The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

You sat there, awaiting word. There had been rumors, whispers about a man who had been seen wandering the underworld, in search of something, of someone…you. The throne upon which you sat was made of finery though anyone could have walked within a few feet of you and would not know as such. There was no light here, ever because that was the way you liked it, desired it, required it. Light had been your only weakness, your only worry until now. Now there was...this man.



You had spent more than a few lifetimes as the huntress, never as the hunted and as you stood from your chair, your heels clicked across the cobblestones, angry chatter to match your mood. The time had passed from whence you had expected to hear answers to your questions, your patience and your nerves both nearing their end. Finally you heard the two approaching, both tall, statuesque women, followers loyal to their queen, each kneeling the moment they saw the look in your eyes.



"You're late", the two simple words spoken softly yet you watched the two shudder at its sound, not daring to speak until they heard, "Tell me what I require to hear, now."



"Yes m'lady, the man is here, we saw him as he walked amongst the derelicts and the homeless, asking questions about you. No one would speak to him, we had already assured that as you instructed but he still draws closer. "



"Surely this isn't everything, you have kept me waiting for such little information, this trinket?"



The one of your right shook her head, her voice shakily saying, "No my liege, we, I followed him, I approached him as he returned to his hostel, using the guise of one of those commoners in disguise."



You lifted her head up, your hand intertwined in her hair, your hazel eyes burning even in the dim light as you said, "Tell me."



She forced her eyes to remain on yours though you could smell the fear, her own perfume and sweat assaulting your olfactory senses as she managed to say, "I asked him if he was looking for company for the evening, that I was available for a price. I could have taken him for you m'lady, I could have if", her words were cutoff as quickly as her air, your hand slipping from her hair to her neck, squeezing it tightly, lifting her like a rag doll.



Your voice this time rose in volume, the words washing over the woman whose eyes grew wide, both from lack of oxygen and the murderous intent in your eyes. "THE MAN IS MINE. I WILL DECIDE IF HE DIES AND WHEN, IS THAT CLEAR?" Words weren't possibly, only a brisk shake of the head as you dropped her like a stone, her body falling to the concrete and she began to cough and sputter. "Now, tell me what he looks like, how he acts, your impression of him and do dare not fail me."



Her voice was hoarse, her throat already bruised, swelling shut as she rasped, "He is like most of the common dwellers m'lady, truly not handsome nor repulsive, his hair is brown, longer than others, average in height and weight and though his eyes are blue, they reflect dull, his life seeming to be draining from him with each passing moment. I see not how he could be a worth adversary to you, he seems incapable of even protecting himself."



You stood there, listening and then with a cold smile saying, "Well, he certainly has excellent taste in women, he turned you down, didn't he?"



This time her face which had been ashen moments before turned a scarlet red, the insult staggering her as her head hung down and she spoke softly saying, "Yes m'lady, this he did."



Nodding you began to walk away before stopping and saying, "His name, did you get the name I required?"



Lifting her head, she nodded as she replied, "Samuels, his name is Jonathan Samuels my queen."



As you flew through the city during the remaining hours prior to dawn you let your mind mull over their words. You knew not of this man, nor of his quest to find you. You were unsure if he meant you harm or what his motive might be but you would have your answers. By the time you arrived back at your lair, the two were still in place, kneeling, waiting as you said, "Tonight, you will watch for him to leave and when he does I will enter his room and see if there is more to this Jonathan Samuels than meets the eye. Return at dusk and do not speak of this to anyone, or else."



That night, when word had been sent, you walked confidently through the doors of the hotel, striding to the front desk where a young woman looked up at you with a smile saying, "Yes miss, how can I help you."



Your eyes met hers, seeing the look, the effect take place almost immediately as you said, "I desire a key, a key to the room of the man Jonathan Samuels and I require it now, is that clear?" She nodded stiffly, typing into the computer, pulling up the room number and quickly coding a card which she handed to you.



You smiled, nodding your head in return before saying, "In thirty seconds you will awaken yet you will not remember me, this key or our conversation" and what that you turned and made haste towards the waiting elevator. Minutes later you were inside, the lack of lighting not a problem, the signs though of a man and his solitary existence evident. A single suitcase, a few meager items of clothing, nothing personal in nature, at least nothing you saw until you took in the book on the nightstand, the journal awaiting your eyes.



It was several hours later that you put the book down, shaking your head in wonder. He was not seeking you, not the woman who brought such fear to those in the world below but the woman, the Lady D. who you had left behind several years ago, another lifetime, another world. How on earth he could have possibly tracked you here, why he would seek you was beyond your grasp but the remembrances of such times did bring a smile to your lips as you closed your eyes and pictured it.



Lady D. had commanded only the finest in submissives, her stance as the premier dominatrix in Chicago earning her legions of followers, eventually an army, one which had commanded the underworld for several years only to be brought down by…and it was at that moment in time that you finally remembered where you had heard that name before. He, he was the writer, the reporter who had sent you scurrying from the city like a frightened chattel. He was the man who had caused you such pain, losing all you had worked so hard to build, destroying your empire with a single stroke of his pen.



You stood, your body shaking in its fury, your hands clenched tightly, blood streaming from where your nails dug into your skin. You felt the presence, the two of them coming to tell you he was returning but you were blind to the fact, needing to make a statement, to do something to strike fear into such a man and as you screamed your revenge you opened your hands, walking over to the wall where you used the palms of your hands to scribe the words, the simple phrase "FEAR ME".



Arriving back at the hotel, I was weary, bone weary from the past few days traveling up and down the bowery, all it seemed for nothing. You were here, that was evident in the look of many of the homeless, desperate people whose eyes had betrayed their tongues. I could have sworn that night there was someone watching me, following me but every time I would turn, trying to catch them off guard there was only the night and its darkness behind me.



I knew the moment I opened the door that something was amiss. The coppery sweet smell of blood, the absence of any light except for the streetlight causing shadows to reflect words, my face turning ashen gray even in the darkness at the two words which I stood there woodenly staring upon. "FEAR ME", the meaning obvious, the threat evident as I felt the chill of sweat as it trickled down my back even in the room as cold as a winter's night could be. There would be no rest this night as I poured myself a drink, checked to make sure the windows and door were locked and sat down to look out into the night sky watching, waiting, wondering.



As the hours passed and I tried to drink myself into oblivion I thought back on what had transpired in Chicago. How my editor didn't share the same zeal for my quest and had finally decided that a parting of the ways would be best for both parties. I'd not handled it well, destroying basically my severance package as I had stormed out, ready to search near and far for the woman who had eluded me, my greatest story, my great American novel, the Queen as you were known in some circles.



I'd once caught a glimpse of you, fleeing the scene of the debacle in Chicago, your brown hair flying as you moved effortlessly, eluding the police and the trap that had been set for you. You had turned when you reached the corner, looking directly at me and I still shivered remembering your eyes, hazel orbs which had turned dark, staring into my soul and promising me we would meet again. Almost the hint of a smile on the corner of your lips as you turned and vanished like the smoke which had begun to fill the burning building.



I took a final sip, the glass slipping from my hand, falling silently onto the carpet of the room, my arm hanging limply as my eyes closed and I surrendered to the darkness. My dreams as always were filled with a vision, a figure walking towards me, moving closer and closer, her silhouette cast in shadows but her identity easily known. It was you, I knew it and though I wanted to flee, my feet seemed rooted to the ground, incapable of movement. I could hear you in my mind, telling me you had come for me, to offer me that which I desired most. Not the folly of the book, it was merely a façade for my true desire, you.



While I slept my tortured sleep, you had sat, thinking, plotting, and planning until finally you stood, walking out into the night, looking at the stars and letting the wind caress your face. Closing your eyes you pictured your quarry, a smile formed on your face, laughter ringing out as you felt the familiar stirrings of the hunt, a thrill you hadn't felt in quite some time but were eager now to explore. He would pay, oh how he would pay for what he had done to you. Revenge was a dish best served cold and the season was now.



I woke up in the chair, my body stiff, and sore from what little rest I had managed. Standing, stretching, feeling the aches and pains of a body which I had long left behind any sense of care for reflected back at me in the mirror. I also saw the red light on the phone flashing, indicating a message. I sat down on the edge of the bed, wondering what it could be. No one knew I was here and no one cared that I knew for sure.



The message playing back was that of a woman, her voice mature, and the tone hypnotic. "Mr. Samuel’s, I understand you are seeking someone, an individual I have information concerning. My price is $5,000 and I promise that you will be pleased with what I have to say, if not, then you need not pay a single penny. I will be in the hotel's bar this evening at 10 p.m. if you are interested" and with that the message ended. Cryptic in tone, interesting in thought I spent the remainder of the day thinking about it, knowing full well I would be there come the appointed time.



You had worked over the years to perfect your craft and one of its unique abilities was to become a shape shifter. Standing in front of the mirror, willing yourself to relax, to breath slowly you pictured the vision you had in your mind and as if by magic your body began to change, to metamorphoses into an older woman, hair of silver though still beautiful, eyes of gray, dressed simply but elegantly in a black dress. Opening your eyes slowly you opened your mouth and heard a voice of wisdom saying, "We meet at last Mr. Samuel's, I promise this will be a moment you will never forget."



At the appointed time I found myself walking into the bar, my eyes slowly becoming accustomed to the dimness of the lightening. I'd almost decided my mysterious caller had decided against meeting until suddenly I felt a hand go through my arm and I turned to see a distinguished yet still beautiful older woman giving me a bit of a smile saying, "Good evening Mr. Samuel’s, shall we?" I escorted her to a table, holding the chair out for her which gave me the benefit of a second smile though I must admit by the time I was ready to sit down it had vanished from her face.



"You smell like a bowery sir, I would suggest you take a moment and use the facilities to freshen up." With that she simply turned her attention elsewhere and I trotted off like an obedient puppy. What I missed was the woman ordering a glass of white wine for herself and a mineral water for me. When the beverages came, she slipped the powdered ingredients of some type of substance into my glass and with a slight movement of her hand mixed it, dissolving the contents moments before I returned. I'd ran some water over my face, trying to straighten out the clothes I'd slept in but I fear my appearance was still not quite presentable though she said no more of it for now.



I lifted a tape recorder out from my jacket pocket, putting it on the table and turning it on. She watched me, her eyes of silver never leaving mine though I must admit I had a hard time meeting her gaze. Women, especially those who seemed as confident and were as beautiful as the one sitting across from me had always left me speechless. I did manage to mumble, "You said you had information about the woman I've been searching for?" She took a sip of her wine; her long fingernails covered in black polish in contrast to the clear beverage as she put the flute back down and said, "Indeed, she was my disciple."



My eyes must have grown wide at the sound as she laughed, the sound almost musical before saying, "You seem surprised Mr. Samuel’s, I was an attractive woman once, considered to be the finest dominatrix in the land." For the next minutes I stumbled and bumbled my way through an apology though quite frankly I hadn't said or done anything to require one. It mattered not; she simply sat there and let my words finally trail off into an incoherent mess before beginning anew. "Dominique was an exceptional talent; I knew that from the moment I first met her. What I didn't know was that she had an alternate side, one she never showed to me until the final night we were together."



Another sip of wine, another momentary pause as the man who sat across from her was transfixed on her story, reaching down to pick up his glass. I took a long swallow, the water rushing down my throat, the taste of the potion sure to be masked, never knowing that I would soon find himself a willing pawn in the game that would be played that night. Before you began to speak again, you took in the sight of me, my hair long, uncut for god knows how long, my blue eyes though red evidently from his earlier bout with the bottle still showing a bit of a spark and to her amusement you found yourself drawn to me, strange yet true.



Finally, she began to regale me once again. "She came to me under the pretense of learning the art, stating her prospective husband had a need for a dominant woman and she wished to be everything for him. She paid me handsomely and I was not above needing the funds, my retirement from the craft nearing and I took her on. She was a natural, by the time only a few days had passed she had taken three potential suitors who had come to me for services under her wing and each found themselves caught in her web. She was like a spider, a black widow that lured them to her with promises of fantasies fulfilled and how she fulfilled them. "



"What I failed to comprehend though was that after she had drawn them to her, they suddenly disappeared. I was too busy basking in my achievement as her mentor to see what was happening under my own roof. It took the morning paper, pictures of the three men who had mistakenly dropped off the face of the earth to make me realize that something was amiss. That night, when she came through the door I confronted her, showing her the paper, accusing her of wrong doing only to find her smiling, confessing all."



"She told me that she had provided them with that which they sought and in return she had taken from them that which she required, their youth. Each word was spoken as calmly as if we were discussing afternoon tea though I reacted in horror, reaching for the phone to call the authorities. I never saw her move, I only found her hand clamped over mine, the strength of her grip threatening to grind my bones into dust as I was forced to look up into her face and listen to her tell me that I should be very careful in my actions. She told me she owed me a debt for showing her the path and though my demise would not bring her pleasure, I certainly would not be allowed to cause her pain."



She reached up, taking her hands and wringing them together as if in remembrance of that meeting, her face turning worried though she could see by the look in his eyes that he was having a difficult time in focusing upon not only your words but your visage as well. "Are you alright Mr. Samuel’s, you look a bit…peaked." He managed to nod, the drug racing through his system overpowering his thoughts, leaving him pliable, easily controlled as she took a final sip of her libation before saying, "Well then, there's the matter of my fee. I would be foolish to think you would have $5,000.00, especially with the loss of your employment, correct?"



My nod was a slow one, my eyes by now glazed over, my expression slack as I shook my head in return. "Oh dear, I was afraid of that. I guess we'll have to come up with an alternative method to allow you to pay your debt. Come along my good man" and with that I stood and walked out of the bar, knowing full well I would follow her, waiting my next command. Walking through the foyer of the grand hotel, I saw her two accomplices waiting by the elevator, a key in hand and as she nodded, they opened the door and the four of us got on. The woman knew how they would react, like cats in heat, their hands reaching out to touch the helpless prey but after a look from her, they fell silent, wondering what was to happen next.



They opened the door to the suite, the night sky providing the only light as she stepped inside, I following obediently behind and with that she looked at them with a smile saying, "That will be all, I have no further need of your services this night" and as they looked on in confusion she shut the door, leaving the two of us alone. Walking over I watched as she took the bottle of wine from where it sat chilling, poured a glass and then turned around to survey her conquest as I waited patiently for my next instructions which were, "Undress for me Mr. Samuels, I desire to see your flesh.



I moved slowly, woodenly as I began to comply. It was like an out of body experience, my mind seemingly unaffected but incapable of any action except that which this woman desired. She watched me with a calm, almost detached look upon her face. Waiting until I had neatly folded all of my items, then standing again for her approval, my look like that of a victim of some kind of shock, uncomprehending, helpless.



She walked over, her steps fluid as she allowed her gaze to take in the sight of the man before her. For a second I thought I saw something, sensed something but then it disappeared as quickly as it had come. Little did I know that my senses were trying to tell me something, though even now it was too late as she came to a stop directly in front of me, a slight smile playing at the corner of her lips.



"I've made it a habit Mr. Samuels of studying your species. So frail, so vulnerable, wanting so many things out of life yet unwilling to give in order to receive. Well tonight I will offer you a chance to give and if you do so freely you will receive the greatest of gifts in return. Why don't you lie down on the bed, make yourself comfortable and I'll explain Jonathan."



Once again I moved as if I was sleepwalking, a dream though so real, so vivid as I lay down, stiffly, board straight though my eyes couldn't leave hers as she smiled, sitting down on the edge and lifting a hand to push back a lock of hair which had fallen on my forehead. Her touch was cold, like ice but my body was on fire, the combination sending sparks of life coursing through me, a feeling like never before. One she watched, her smile now widening as she placed her fingers over my eyes and told me softly to shut them and listen only to the sound of her voice.



"It's amazing how the human mind works, so susceptible to suggestion, so easily swayed. Take for example your hands, how you can feel them moving together, the web I'm spinning trapping them, binding you." I could feel them move, the sensation of warmth, a tightening as they were captured. "Your arms next, then your legs followed by your ankles" and step by step I experienced that which she described. "We can't have you crying out either" and my mouth too was covered, a warmth spreading over it until finally I heard her say "Open your eyes Mr. Samuels and see if you can believe that which you see."



I did, blinking, still incapable of movement on my own but staring at my bonds, how they seemed to shimmer even in the dim light of the single candle which burned. There must have been confusion in my eyes as she stood, smiling though I noticed now how it didn't reach her lips, the smile a bit cold, calculated as she spoke, "I think it's time for the charade to end and for you to discover that all is not as the eye proclaims" and with that I watched as she closed her eyes and the transformation began.



For a moment, a second in time I began to think this might be a dream, one I might wake from with a scream, the alcohol reeking from my pores, my heart hammering in fear. Instead I could only watch as the woman's hair changed from silver to a luxurious brown, her eyes once gray now burning a hazel tone, her body turning young in appearance and shape until she stood there, a vision in black, a woman I had only seen once across a burning room, it was her.



Your voice was now confident, filled with bravado as you announced, "I hope you'll forgive me for my little play, I knew that it would prove difficult at best to ask you to meet so instead..." as you waved your arm around the room, your eyes though never leaving mine, proving how simple it had been to dupe me. "Oh, and now that I have your undivided attention, I think it's time I enjoy the spoils of my labor, don't you?" You knew I could not respond, your hands working at the buttons and zippers of your garments, piece by piece falling to the floor as you continued.



"I truly did learn the craft from a woman who looked exactly like her. Everything I told you was true except for one small matter; I couldn't allow her to speak to anyone now could I?" You crawled onto the bed, moving like a snake, your body sensuous in its appearance, eyes deadly in their intent. "I can provide a man with the ultimate in pleasure or in pain, depending on his tastes, his desires, his needs. I wonder what your needs are Jonathan, shall we find out?"



Reaching out, your fingertips grazing over my nipples I felt the sting as if they had been suddenly pierced, the pain both immediate and to my surprise exhilarating a fact not lost upon you. Though my face remained impassive, my body must have betrayed me as you smiled, that same wicked smile while saying, "Ah, you require the gift of pain in order to receive pleasure, don't you my pet?"



Another touch, this time lower and I felt the pressure, the pinch of the ring, circulation stopping, my hardness quickly evident as you straddled me, your nipples hard, your own excitement evident in your arousal as you let your hand reach out, touching my eyes and as quickly they clouded over, my sight taken from me as I heard your voice, as if in an echo within my mind say, "I find that you experience so much more if you're trapped within your own body, unable to sense anything, free only to provide me with that which I require for now."



All I remember was time seeming to stand still, your body settling upon me, a sigh escaping your lips. From there you began to move, slowly at first, finding your rhythm, finding your pleasure as I was simply a tool, an instrument to be used. I tried shutting down, my mind struggling only to hear your laughter, the sound filling my head, your voice inside of me saying, "Do not fight me Jonathan, I am far stronger, mentally, physically, you are no match for me though come the end of our time together here you might provide to be a worthy…well, you shall see. For now, I desire my pleasure and I require your pain" and with that I felt my whole body become consumed by a fiery passion, a feeling like never before and thus it began.



It could have been hours, mayhap days but the next thing I can remember was the feeling, your weight upon my chest, your body having finally exhausted its need, sated, at rest. I continued to lie there, feeling a bit of sensation beginning to return, my fingers slowly opening and closing. You stirred at this, your head moving up close to mine, leaning in to whisper in my ear, "I know my prey, you're regaining some of your movement, why within minutes you could probably come to understand the only bonds holding you are those of your mind, easily broken yet desired none the less."



You stroked my hair, the haze over my eyes clearing enough so that I could look into your hazel orbs, intent on staring into mine as you whispered, "I know the life you live, alone, sadness prevailing, no hope, nothing to look forward or to live for, an empty existence which each days threatens to drag you over the abyss, am I right?" There was no need to answer; the single tear which fell from my ear was proof enough. "I can change all that, I can give you everything your heart desires and more Jonathan, all you need do is offer yourself to me of your own accord."



Your eyes now blazed, your voice husky with emotion, becoming louder. "‘Tis a gift like none you have ever received. One that will offer you the opportunity to serve as you've always desired, to taste the joys of the flesh, everything we have to offer each other, no boundaries, no judge, no jury only our own pleasures to consume us. Give yourself to me, join me and together we shall rule." I felt my restraints begin to dissolve, the cloud which had concealed my thoughts begin to lift as my body began to shake and tremble. Your head once again found my face, your eyes wild, animal like in their passion as you said, "I must have your answer my love, and I must have it now."



Once again words failed me yet I still answered in kind. This time by a slight movement, my head falling to the side, my neck open, available and this time when you smiled you did so with your teeth so white, the fangs long, sharp in their appearance and with a cry you took my gift as I screamed my allegiance, my arms pulling you close, my body responding to yours, my life yours…for eternity.

She walked through the doors of his home breezing by everyone on the arm of several different women. God, Kore thought, why must I be trapped into giving these stupid parties? As the senior partner and founder of a very successful law firm Kore was giving an annual summer ball. He tried hard to fit into the human world, much as he hated to. Sadly, there were precautions that he had to take in order to keep his true nature a secret. After all it wouldn’t do to become a suddenly voracious wolf in front of just anyone.



He stood at the door greeting his guests when she came in. He didn’t recognize her as an employee but the women in her circle worked for him.



Intent on finding out who she was he came closer to her group. One of the women turned and on seeing him smiled prettily. “Good evening, Mr. Rhoades.”



At her words the women moved apart to include him in their midst. The woman was towards the back.



God, she was beautiful. A tall woman with a supple body that radiated heat making his skin burn and itch to be touched. She was dressed in a flowing white dress that stopped at the knee showing off her muscular legs. The white dress brought out the striking contrast of her tan skin and dark hair and eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck; a rather severe style that was for old school marms but was elegant on her showing off her high cheekbones.



Her eyes fell on him and her lush lips glossed with a pale white shimmer arched up in a small smile.



“And who are you?” Their eyes were locked together while everything else faded away. Her scent teased him with its elusive spicy tones.



Her smile deepened. “Fiera Dumas.”



“She works with us but for another firm.” A busty brunette supplied snapping Kore back into reality.



“I’m glad you could come.”



Fiera’s eyes blazed with intensity. “I am more than pleased to meet you.”



All the girls about her twittered at the low seductive tone her voice had taken on. Kore smiled back at her wolfishly. Separate from your pack, little girl, and I’ll show you what teasing a man will get you. He would’ve liked nothing better than to fuck the shit out of her, rip her hair out of that bun and see what she looked like when she came.



He turned on his heel and left.



As the evening progressed Kore began to feel more and more caged inside his own house. At midnight he crossed unseen into his gardens pulling at the tight tie knotted at his throat. He leaned against one of the pillars that held up his balcony closing his eyes to inhale deeply of sweetly cool night air.



A flash of white sailed by him when he reached out and caught it.



“What the fuck are you doing?” Fiera hissed.



Kore smiled lazily as he held her shoulders in both his hands pressing her against his hard body.



“Let go of me.” She demanded softly looking into Kore’s deep green eyes. When she had first seen him Fiera groaned inside here was a man who was devastatingly handsome, rich and with a great body and he knew it. Bastard playboys like him always thought they could have any woman they wanted just by flashing a smile.



“When I’m ready.” He smiled again enjoying the feel of her heaving breasts on his chest and the scent of her skin. She didn’t wear perfume just a tantalizing hint of rose soap.



She pushed against his chest freeing herself from him. “Looks like you’re ready now.”



“Come on,” Kore snagged her hand in his snaking his fingers through hers. “Don’t be a prude. We’re adults enjoying the night. There’s no need to be afraid.” He pulled her back into his arms. “It’s not as if I’m the big bad wolf.” He gently kissed her lips.



So disarming was his kiss, warm and sweet flowing in her veins like honey water. Fiera had expected brutality had even thought of what to do should he prove unreasonable. But this…



Fiera had never been kissed like this before and just when she was warming to the softness of it Kore deepened his kiss letting loose his passion tasting her tongue with his, nibbling gently on her lush lower lip. Fiera couldn’t breathe. Kore’s breath became hers.



When he let her go she stumbled back a pace. Still leaning against the column he said insolently. “Let down your hair for me. Let me see you.”



Fiera had her hand to her lips. “Fuck you.” She moved quickly past him making her way through the phalanx of people out the front door. She tried to hurry away; there was something about Kore that made her uneasy.



Fiera felt her arm seized. With wide eyes she let Kore lead her to her car. Fiera’s body was stiff and unyielding as he propelled her along. With a quick deft move he pinned her to the car so her chest was on his. “We’ll have our day, Fiera. Or should I say our night?”



“I hate you. You’re nothing but a pompous ass pretty boy who likes to fuck with poor naïve girls.” Fiera spat.



Kore trailed his finger down her lips then suddenly grabbed her breast in his hand loving the feel and weight of the soft warm flesh. He especially enjoyed the way her dark eyes widened with the pupils dilated. “But your hate will make the love all the sweeter won’t it?” His hand went from her breast to encircle her throat loosely. “There’s such passion in you. I can’t wait to taste it.” He let her go then stepping back as Fiera climbed into her car.



He watched her drive away. What a shame she had to be so beautiful. A pity that she chose to resist. He shrugged as he walked back to the house he would have her of that there was no doubt.



Tonight looked like a good night for a run.



Fiera worked as a legal secretary for a popular law firm but that was only her bread and butter job, her real love was writing poetry. She was pretty successful at it too if she counted her three poetry novels that had been published and well received. What the critics lambasted the most and what the fans adored was the fanciful imagery she included. Everyone who read her poetry knew what it was like to be deeply in love with a dream lover or a ghost or a vampire or even a werewolf. It was just plain fun for Fiera to make up poems.



Tonight she’d make a good one. Kore Rhoades definitely could be a vampire with his hard body, black hair and green eyes. Fiera could see how being in love with such a vital man would consume a woman.



Too bad the man was such an arrogant ass. She’d almost want him to be her first lover.



It had been two weeks since the party and Fiera found herself sitting at her desk in front of Mr. Kenneth G. Lanford’s office squirming in her seat.



“Damn.” Fiera muttered getting your period is the shits. It really hurt too and Fiera hoped that she wouldn’t pass out at her desk from the pain. God, why didn’t the Advil she had taken just minutes before on her break work faster? To top it off Fiera heard her phone buzz and Lanford’s voice come through asking Fiera to come into his office.



With a deep breath Fiera stood up after a few moments of pain she was able to walk inside without giving away her condition. “Yes, Mr. Lanford?” She said to the elderly man in gold rimmed glasses.



“Fiera, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Kore Rhoades he’s going to give legal counsel on one of our cases here.”



With an audible groan Fiera turned to see Kore’s smirking handsome face. He strolled over easily and took her hand. For a moment she saw his nostrils flare as if he could smell the warm richness of the blood pouring from between her legs. “I’m pleased to meet you.” He said softly dropping her hand and moving away.



“She’ll do excellently.” Kore said and before Fiera knew it she was sitting in Kore’s black Jaguar racing towards God knew where.



Fiera sucked in a deep breath the cramps were just not letting up and now to be trapped in Kore’s car with no way out, she silently hoped she didn’t bleed on his leather seats. “Where are you taking me?”



Kore glanced quickly at her. “You don’t look so good, Fiera.” She caught the hint of a smile on his sensual lips. “Do you want to tell me what is wrong?”



Bastard.



Soon he stopped the car though and Fiera realized in a state of numbness that she was back at his mansion. Kore held her elbow tenderly hustling her into the house before she could break free of him. Once inside he propelled her up a staircase with the walls lined in pictures that passed her by. It was such a chore to have to walk, the pain was getting pretty bad. Kore stooped down picking Fiera up in his arms. She closed her eyes. Slowly she became aware of hands on her body touching her bare flesh, stripping off her clothes. Then she was laid back into a mountain of softness and covered with warm blankets.



Fiera’s eyes opened when she felt bare skin against hers.



“Kore!” Fiera exclaimed trying to sit up but only falling back onto the pillows. “What the fuck are you doing?”



Kore slid his arms about Fiera’s luscious body burying his face in her neck to inhale the scent of her. An electric shiver ran down his spine. He pressed a kiss on her throat. “This is our night, Fiera. I’ve never met a woman who excites me the way you do. You make me lose control.”



“Are you going to rape me?” She whispered fear stabbing into her.



“You know I would never do that to you. Ever.” He arched one black brow. “Unless you asked.”



“I don’t know you.” Fear mounting inside her.



“I know everything about you. I’ve read all your books, Fiera.”



Fiera inhaled sharply. One of the things she had insisted on was privacy. For that reason alone she had used a pen name and had not given a picture to the publisher. She was shocked to know that somehow Kore knew who she was.



“I love your poetry. I think you were talking about me in some of them. What makes you write like that? As if you know about demons, vampires and werewolves?”



“I make it up. I don’t know anything about those creatures except for what they write about in books.”



“I can smell you from here.”



Fiera bolted upright struggling to free herself from Kore’s grasp but he flung her back onto the bed moving so that he lay on top of her pressing himself between her legs.



“Oh yes, my little minx. You smell of blood and sex.” He bent his head to lick her bare breast nipping with sharp teeth her swollen nipple. Fiera cried out. “But what I can’t figure out is,” He lifted his head to pierce her with his green eyes. “why don’t I smell a man on you? Why don’t you reek of sex? A woman like you should not lack for willing partners.”



“Get off me.” Fiera’s voice trembled.



“Answer me.”



“I’m a virgin, alright? Does that satisfy you?”



“Immensely.” Kore chuckled as he dipped his head back down to her breasts.



“Please, please no.” Fiera writhed and cried out as Kore kissed and licked her breasts. Her hands dove into his hair when he began to suck hard on her nipples. He was wicked and sinful and so damn good. Fiera felt a strong bite on her shoulder the pain eased away with a kiss. Lower and lower Kore trailed kisses down her stomach to her hips and then to her virgin cunt.



The scent of her blood overwhelmed him. Kore grabbed her delicate lacy panties and in one move ripped them off her tossing the scrap of fabric over the bed.



Fiera was struggling to get up and away from Kore but he held her down. “Don’t fight, baby. A part of you wants this as much as I do.”



“You don’t give a damn that I’ll bleed all over your sheets.” She could feel the rapid bursts of his hot breath warm her inner thigh. “You don’t give a damn whether I want this or not.”



Kore pressed a kiss to her thigh then licked long and slow up her shaved cunt the taste of her blood; spicy and wild. Just like he knew it would be. Fiera caught her breath in a strangled scream. “Let me taste you, Fiera. Let me have you. Right here, right now. I want your blood all over me.” His green eyes were wild his black hair tumbling into his eyes.



Kore growled low in his throat as he eased back up her body their eyes locked in a silent battle.



“I never fucked anybody,” Her words cut off with his kiss. It was like dying to be held in his arms and kissed, as if she were embracing the sun to feel the heat from his body burning her skin. Their tongues twined and all throughout the kiss she heard the low rumbling growl echo in Kore’s chest. Kore’s mouth fell onto her ripe nipple making Fiera cry out in ecstasy. He sucked long and hard on her tender flesh before bestowing the same treatment to her other breast.



Fiera’s fingers speared through Kore’s hair tugging him closer urging him on. He slipped from her grasp following an imaginary line of kisses down to her bloody cunt. Fiera whimpered trying to roll away from him but Kore grasped her hips holding her immobile. At the mercy of his touch.



His wet, hot tongue licked at her swollen cunt. The taste of her blood like honey on his tongue. He repeated the motion over and over driving Fiera insane with wanting until her hips were bucking upward to meet his mouth.



Fiera couldn’t take the intensity that was building inside her. She cried out, she clawed Kore’s back screaming as she came violently.



A hot gush of blood flowed into Kore’s mouth. He wanted more.



He slid up her body like a snake. Fiera’s eyes widened as she saw his blood stained lips. When he bent his head for a kiss Fiera met him tasting herself.



The head of his swollen cock pulsed against her cunt soaked in precum and blood.



“I want you.” Kore breathed his eyes piercing her.



“Take me.” Fiera surrendered.



With a smooth hard thrust that took her breath away Kore entered Fiera tearing through her tender cunt.



Kore was so large and thick Fiera had never felt anything like this before. She knew without a doubt that this was meant to be that somehow she had subconsciously saved herself for this man. She reached out to cup his face in her slender hands.



Kore kissed her again marveling at her beauty, the smooth softness of her skin. A part of him still couldn’t believe that he was fucking Fiera.



He moved harder and deeper into her going faster and faster. She was so wet from her cum and blood. So god damned tight.



It didn’t get any better than this. Fucking a beautiful virgin.



The same heat built inside Fiera like before but now it was a thousand fold more intense her body felt like it was on fire.



Her pussy tightened on his cock like a vise still he plunged wildly inside Fiera wanting this moment to never end to somehow be frozen in time so he could always stay like this forever buried deeply inside of her with the taste of her blood on his tongue.



The wild rush of heat that enveloped Fiera when she came caused her head to swim. Kore’s hot rush of cum flowed into her moments later. They lay for a long time still entwined.



“Stay with me.” Kore whispered his face buried in her neck.



Fiera was silent.



“I need you. I can be anything you want me to be. I can be the man you write about in your poems. Your dream lover.”



Fiera’s hands caressed the steel of Kore’s back as she placed a kiss onto his shoulder.



“Yes.”

He snuck to her side as she slept. So quietly, carefully trying not to wake her. She lay there away in some fare off land dreaming what she dared only to dream. He hated to wake her so peace full and still. Her breath escaping her body with such grace only to return. His eyes then softly ran over the skin on her shoulder, just peeking out from under the covers. That skin that reminded him always of silk. And then, her long flowing hair draped across her pillow. Oh how he longed to run his fingers threw her golden hair.



He could no longer resist the pull of her body. Every inch aching to be caressed by his strong hands. He pulled back the covers to join her. Her body releasing a shiver as the cold air startled her subtle back. She was nude as he expected. He smiled to him self enjoying this confirmation. He pulled close to her and puled the covers over him self. He kissed her neck gently. She was beginning to awake now very slowly. Not yet conches she leaned her head away from him offering him more of her neck. He graciously accepted it. He kissed from the base or her ear down her neck to the place where her shoulder fell to her arm.



He ran his fingers along the skin of her arm all the way to her wrist. Bringing Goosebumps to her perfect skin. Then he spread his fingers running them down her hand till each of his finger tips met with one of hers. Then lacing his fingers between hers. With such care and hunger he bit the center of her neck, so gently. He must remember what he is. He could feel the life of the one thing he loved most in this world threw his tender lips. Pulsating teasing his teeth to bite harder. But he will not, he releases her neck reluctantly. Turning her on to her back to gaze at her tender lips. Part of a face awake yet still dreaming. He kisses them softly. But even as his lips pull from hers he knows he must kiss her again. This kiss is greeted by her kiss to join it sensing that she is becoming more aware he deepens the kiss. As he pulls away her lips move to speak.



"Paul?" His name is dreamily spoken. He puts a finger to her mouth silently telling her to hush now.



"Yes" He says no more but begins to kiss her again and again it is deeper and more passionate than the one before. His lips then leave a trail of kisses down the side of her chin leading to her breasts. He slowly takes one nipple in to his mouth as he cradles the other in his hand. He allows his tongue to circle the tip feeling as it hardens in his mouth. He begins pinching on the nipple in his hand. Then unable to refrain he bites the one in his mouth. Not to hard but not so softly ether.



A sigh of pleasure escapes her lips just loud enough for only him to here. She is fully awake now but over whelmed by erotic desire she fully succumbs to him. His more than ever now. More than she has ever been anyone's. Belonging more to him than she has ever belonged to even her self. She reaches for his head tangling her fingers threw his hair it's her tern to give him Goosebumps. She pulls his lips from her breast to her lips desiring another kiss. He throws the covers off of them with his first fast movement of the night. Then slowly again he brings his hand to meet with hers on his head. Then as she slowly lets her hand fall dragging it across his cheek bone then across his lips, he lets his hand wander down her arm over her shoulder along her side finding rest on her hip.



He then pulls his body away from hers just far enough to see her whole body. Moving his head he looks at it all memorizing it. Memorizing the way her smooth legs giddied his eyes, the way her pussy looked hiding under her thin bush. Even now he knew it was ready, but not yet ready enough. He memorized the stomach she wished she could forget, the way her chest moved with ever breath and every beat of her tender heart. And then her face the supple lips of her mouth and the look in her eyes that told him her heart as well as all the rest was his and his alone. Again he smiled to him self but this time it was pride. She was more than enough to be proud of. Perhaps not everyone thinks so but he does and that's enough. Again he was drawn to bite her neck.



He slowly obliged the aching thirst in his mouth. But upon hearing her quietly moan he realized this bite was a bit farther from gentile than he had intended. He released her neck afraid he may begin to bite to hard. After all his hunger for her was growing stronger with every passing moment. He decided to feed another hunger to distract from the former. He allowed his hand to creep between her legs as he slithered his body down hers. As he did this he felt his shirt being removed. He could not figure out when she had unbuttoned it but all the same she had and now it was now slipping from her fingers to the floor. This left his chest to feel her ample breasts slide up his chest as he slid down her body. He loved the way that felt so he slid up and down once more, this time even slower.



He slid his hand under her to hold her soft round ass as he lowered his lips to hers gently he liked from her precious little opening that was already dripping with her lust for him all the way up past her clitoris and out again. He likes to taste her juices as they flow from her preparing her for the gift that god gave him and he now shares with only her. He then repeated this adding just enough pressure as he went over her clitoris, causing her to twitch with pleasure. He then begins to play with it biting it lightly and sucking it hard. Rolling his tongue around it and flicking over it. She is now subtly and some times no so subtly bucking her hips in pleasure. She then grabs his head by his hair bringing it to her eye level.



"I want you now." she whispers as she releases his hair.



"Then perhaps you shall have me, but not yet." He says and proceeds to kiss her deeply. He then slides a finger in to her wiggling it around within her. Feeling how so very wet she is. And oh so warm. How he longs to slip inside her to love her so thoroughly... but no not yet. So he simply slips another finger in. And leaning back he begins sliding them in and out faster and faster as deep and hard as he can until she shouts. Leaving his fingers deep within her he leans back over her again. He moves his thumb to rube her clitoris then moves to kiss her, but slides to the side his cheek caressing hers, and he bites. This time beginning to forget the danger of biting her to hard, but not yet biting her to hard. He slowly removes his hand from her pussy wile still biting her to remove his pants. Not able to resist the pleasure of taking her any longer. Bringing her feet to his shoulders he enters her. Finally taking what is his. He begins moving slowly. Savoring the feeling of moving in and out of her. Feeling every inch every millimeter within her. Then unable to resist he speeds up feeling her body embracing his, yearning for all he can give. So he gives it all. Hearing her moans of pleasure erupting from deep within her and her desire escaping in small heavy sighs.



And then a scream - the sign he had waited for. He releases flowing life in to her burst after burst. With out even thinking he bites her hard, very hard. This time casing her to bite back. He collapses upon her tiered. Then he realizes she's biting him. He tries to pull away but is to week it is to late. He senses the taste of blood upon his lips, her blood, as he becomes that which he could not resist.

He lifted her up with his one arm, pressing her against the wall. She was young, just married perhaps. Thankfully none of the plagues had touched her too harshly to scar her skin. Pander had a fondness for healthy appearances. Hers was clearly eye catching, outside of a few bruises here and there.



Life's harsh, he thought.



He stared into her eyes, watching her fear. Or could it be excitement? He smiled at her, Fear of excitement, least her man hears us. His smile revealed his teeth, and her excitement fled like so much morning dew. Pander did not care, fear was more than morsel enough.



With his free hand he started unlacing her bodice, revealing her full breasts. She'd had at least one child, her wide hips and full figure would never do on a peasants yearly feed without such a consideration. Pander's traced a line up the curve of her revealing breast to her throat.



Her flesh was promising, her blood filling, yet Pander also yearned for entertainment. The glint in his eye must have warned her of what to expect as she thought to call out. Pander squeezed her throat, softly, at just the right places and pressed her harder. She went silent.



Running his finger back down her neck he slid bare her shoulder. Pulling, slowly, almost gently, downward he revealed her breast. His fingertips brushed across her nipple, then pinched till he could feel the involuntary hardening. Now he held her in place with his gaze, slipping his hand off her neck and baring both her shoulders now. His hand cupped her breast as he leaned towards her. As their lips touched he watched her eyes close - once again she felt excitement.



He could feel her heat. Her pulse throbbed to him through her breasts. His one hand continued to fondle her while the other wrapped around her waist. Her own hands moved, hesitantly at first, then more firmly up his arms and around his back. He felt her heat pulse to him through his garments, into his hands and against his lips.



Slowly his kisses moved down her chin and along her neck. With each touch of his lips he searched for her pulse, feeling for the throbbing, the pounding. As she lifted her leg against him, wrapping herself tightly to his body, he found her pulse along her neck. Gentle, wordless moans escaped her as his fangs slipped into her. Her body was grinding against his even as her heat become his own. He drank deeply, luxuriously enjoying her taste, the feel of her flesh heating his own, tasting more than just her blood.



Oh, yes, he thought, she will have a surprise for her abusive husband. And then feed upon her own children as a dessert. And she'd be satiated and sleepy long before dawn, long enough for her to be dragged helpless to watch the sun rise. Pander so enjoyed his entertainments.



As her heat drained and her body relaxed he again kissed her chin, then her lips. Running his own tongue against his teeth he pressed his lips to hers one last time. Only this time the kiss gave to her instead of drained. His blood ran down her tongue, his hand working along her throat to help her swallow. It wouldn't take much before she would return, hungry, cold and lusting for her loved ones.



Pander stepped back as she slid to the ground. Confident that she would revive shortly he allowed himself a moment to gaze down upon his deed. So young and once so innocent.



Her arm twitched.



Pander smiled, anticipating the entertainment in watching this lovely young form devour her own family. With a leap he made the roof's edge, and shifting himself to watch, vanished into shadows. He continued to watch as her hand moved back to her bare breasts. Her eyes snapped open even as she cupped her own breast, felt her own chest stilled of breath. Panic. She stared down at her own clothes, lifting them up as if to ask them what had happened. Her fingers brushed against her stomach, then she forgot her clothes while her hands ran up and down her stomach. A response to a hunger that had nothing to do with her digestion, a response so ingrained that Pander marveled each time he saw it.



She shifted, pulling her feet under her, crouching. Instead of pulling back on her clothes she pulled them away, leaving herself naked, feral. Animal instincts being burnt into her psyche by Pander's blood in her veins. Then Pander heard something - no, someone. An unexpected visitor. This will be interesting, he remembered how the random act of knocking over a lantern had lead to his own release from the same fate he had designed for the young flesh below him. If need be he'd leave her to survive or die on her own, in the meantime an unexpected visitor would be further entertainment.



The newly embraced didn't notice the intruder until she came into view. They both stopped, taking a moment to stare at one another. The new comer, if anything even healthier than Pander's toy, backed against a wall, arms outstretched. A position easily taken as fearful. Pander was not fooled though, the newcomers face did not hold fear but calculations. Pander made certain not to move.



The young vampire moved forward, cautious yet still feral. She had not the chance to learn what she was capable of, and every second she did not feed her hunger would grow by leaps and bounds. She glanced right, towards the entrance to her hovel. Before she turned back to face the new arrival she leapt forward. Pander smiled, it was a good ruse.



It didn't work. The young vampire was fast with hunger, yet the mortal was moving with trained experience. With a twist and thrust the mortal used the young vampires speed against her, slamming her against the ground. Yet, she didn't press the attack. Smart of her, thought Pander, and surely enough the young vampire's speed had her back on her feet at once. Pander wondered about this mortal female, who was she? As he watched her move, watched her fight, he felt more than just his hunger return.



The vampire managed to slash at her, cutting her along her leg. The mortal stumbled back, nearly falling. The young vampire jumped on the advantage. Only Pander could plainly see it was not an advantage, but a trap. With a snap the mortal thrust with shaft of a forgotten garden hoe upwards, impaling the young vampire. There was no scream, for she'd not yet drawn a breath after her reawakening. No, she simply crumpled to the ground to lay defeated.



Pander watched as the mortal regained her feet. He smiled as she reached down and broke off a part of the hoe's handle, Don't go unarmed, you don't know what might be lurking out there. She examined her leg, speaking to herself under her breath, perhaps even cursing.



Pander alighted a short distance from her softly. For a second she didn't notice his presence, then she glanced, startled, and scrambled to her feet. Pander waited patiently.



"You!" She hissed at him, "You did this," she pointed at the dead vampire beside her.



He smiled in answer, seeing no reason to debate the obvious.



"Damn you," she went to move and flinched. Pander did not shift a muscle, aware of the traps she could use to her advantage. "Do you have any idea how long I've been hunting you?"



That surprised Pander as nothing else that evening had. Then he realized who this was, Cassandra, his young cousin. Had it been that many years since? So long since he'd devoured his own family - uncle and aunt as well - before the fire had burnt down their farmhouse? He had thought she'd perished in the flames, the one family member to get away. Yet she'd lived. And followed him, To follow in my footsteps. He smiled broadly.



She shifted, her own confidence lagging.



Pander opened his arms to her and calmly stepped forward. She raised her stake and shifted her stance, no longer pretending the wound hindered her. Pander paused, lowering his arms a touch, tilting his head, questioning.



They gazed into each others eyes.



Years before Pander was told that the peasantry believed that ilk of his kind could enter the minds of the weak, plying them to their own ends. Pander had laughed at that, before killing the peasant who had said as much. No, Pander could not enter the minds of others. He could, though, let others into his own mind - to feel what he felt, to sense what he sensed, to taste his desire.



Cassandra inhaled sharply, the sensations engulfing her. She felt heat, could feel her heart pumping loud and hard against her chest. Her skin tingled as she watched Pander step closer. She raised her stake, even as the heat suffused her body. The waves of heat and the feel of the cool air against her skin washed down her chest and along her thighs. Her legs felt weak, yet she held her stance as Pander took another step. She wondered what took him so long, why did he not rush her. He simply came, step by step, staring deeply into her eyes as she felt the warmth rise into desire. Her breasts felt on fire, she wasn't even aware of her own hand loosening her clothes - only of the cool night air causing her nipples to harden. She stood up straight now, yet the stake was still raised before her as she watched Pander step up to it. Her gaze was so locked onto his own that she didn't even feel him walk into the raised stake. What she did feel was his finger tip tracing a line along the curve of her neck. It sent shivers down her whole body till she feared she'd stumble and loose sight of him. Her skin was electrified by his gentle stroke, the heat surging through her thighs muscles began to spasm.



Do you feel that desire? he asked her.



She couldn't speak, she could barely think, Oh yes.



Do you want to feel that desire for all eternity? His fingertips slid down her throat, pulling open loosened clothing to reveal her breasts. He traced the firm curve till his fingertips brushed against her hardened nipples. She moaned even as she felt the heat between her thighs blossom and pour down her legs. Even then, the desire didn't stop, if anything the heat between her legs only added fuel to the fire. To the sensation that felt more enticing than any she'd ever knew existed, Oh, God, yes, forever!



And will you do anything it takes to keep your desire burning?



She gazed into his eyes even as his hands slid around her waist. She looked up at his face, pale except where the peasants blood still trailed down his chin. She watched as he smiled down at her, revealing his fangs. She closed her eyes as she leaned her head back, revealing her throat to him, Anything!



She welcomed his arms around her, pulling back her hair, running up and down her bare back. She wrapped her own arms around him. The stake rolled down his back to land at their feet, forgotten. Her hands pressed against his own neck and pushed his mouth down to her waiting throat. Pressing herself against him she moaned softly.



Pander drank fully, deeply, Ah, once so young. So innocent.

I remember that night so vividly. It was a nearing the end of spring and the air was just hot enough that being naked was more comfortable than being clothed. The night air seemed to seduce me. Its smell and its warmth seemed to tease me. The honeysuckle and jasmine scent blew over my naked body as if it were caressing me with a lover’s touch.



The moon was more silvery than I could ever remember it being. As I lay there bathing in the moonlight, I thought to myself, “If werewolves did exist, this would surely be the night they would be a prowl." The thought excited me a bit, seeing as I was alone in the woods (just like Red Riding Hood, but that’s another story). A chill covered my body. My nipples ached from the sheer desire that needed to be released. I was all alone. There was no need to deny myself a little bit of self pleasure. I spread my body out on the rock with one leg propped up just far enough to feel the cool breeze on my pussy. I began caressing my breasts. I moved my hands slowly down my chest circling my breasts, taking in their size. As my hands neared my areola the skin quivered with even more excitement. I refrained from diving right into the nipple and pinching it hard like I like it done by lovers. The teasing was so nice. I would get right to the point of greatest pleasure then eased back a bit. I wanted to prolong the exhilaration as long as possible.



As I continued to tease myself I heard a rustling in the bushes. I thought to myself, “it is such a shame that the animals are going to be the only ones to hear my ecstasy.” Again, the bushes shook. This time it sounded more like a person moving around. “Hello! Is anyone there”? Now, that is silly you know you are the only one out here, I laughed to myself. I shrugged it off as some nocturnal creature foraging for food. Besides, I had more important business that needed attention. My body was a mass of goose bumps. I was not about to let that little noise startle me out of my play time. It did, however, add to the excitement of the moment. In fact it made me hotter to think an animal had gotten my scent and was wandering in to satisfy its curiosity.



I continued running my hands up and down my body as I felt the excitement growing between my legs. I heard the foot steps getting closer. I wondered if I should really stop, for safety sake. Instead, I decided to enjoy the audience. Just as I spread my legs and stretched out, I felt hot breath on my neck. The hair on the back of my neck bristled. I froze. Slowly I turned to face a furry black snout and a pair of eerie, glowing reddish-brown eyes. It was not like any animal I had ever seen. It had an unsettling presence about it, yet it did not appear as if it were about to attack.



The creature just stood there staring as if to say, “Please continue.” Gradually, I continued to run one hand over my breasts. With my other hand, I began to tickle my thighs. I ran my hand up my thighs to touch two very succulent lips. The beast jumped onto the rock and began sniffing at my shoulder. It had started to pant and its saliva fell on my erect nipple. Its cold nose caressed my stomach, which made me shiver. It jumped slightly from my sudden movement, but continued to sniff towards my aroused pussy. I opened my legs farther so I could feel the heat of his breath on my shaven cunt. I have not been able to figure out what kind of animal it was. I thought was some sort of canine, but at this point I was too horny to care. I felt a very long tongue lap at my nectar, which was now oozing down my ass. My nipples felt as though they were about to burst. The muscles inside began to spasm. My heart raced with excitement. I felt the roughness of its tongue as it licked at my clit. It seemed as though it knew just what it needed to do to please me.



I heard a soft growl, but by now, all fear had subsided. I was only attuned to my own pleasure. It lapped at my cunt as if it were half starved. I was not aware that my eyes had been closed until I felt something warm drip on my lip. I looked up to see the



Largest, firmest and strangest shaped cock I had ever seen. A furry sheath surrounded a massive pinkish-red protrusion that seemed to be knotted nearest the opening of the sheath. Then I felt the tongue touch the spot that always sent me over the edge. My eyes closed again, as I felt the waves of ecstasy roll over me. The sensation was like nothing I had ever felt before. The tongue did not stop. Wave after wave engulfed me. My cunt juices mixed with saliva ran down my ass onto the rock. I wanted to escape from beneath the beast, yet at the same time, I yearned for more. I felt the tongue on my clit once more, which sent me into convulsions of pleasure.



I longed for more than just the texture of his tongue. Slowly, I turned over onto my stomach and rose onto my hands and knees. It turned to sniff my ass and it began to lick me. My sphincter muscle tightened as the tongue caressed my asshole. As it continued to lick my asshole, I relaxed and enjoyed the sensations. I reached back to spread my ass cheeks apart. It buried its tongue further into my ass. A mild climax made me shiver, slightly.



I felt the warmth of its breath move up my ass onto the small of my back. I hope he is going to do what I think he is going to do. Warm saliva trickles down my back. Fur brushed against my ass and tickled me. I felt my breasts caress the warmth of the rock where I had been laying. My erect nipples sway against the smooth stone. I felt the moist hardness enter my anxiously waiting pussy. I felt hot breath on my neck, shoulders and ears. I shoved my ass hard against the enormous bulge. It nearly ripped me open as it went in, but then it felt wonderfully gigantic. The beast started pumping against my ass. I heard deep growls as he fucked me harder and harder. I felt his teeth biting gently on my neck. I rocked with the rhythm of the beast. The growls became louder. Suddenly he howled and I felt a gush of warm liquid slam against the top of my cunt. I arched my back as I felt myself orgasm. The hot cum oozed out of my warm, moist pussy, ran down my thighs and sizzled onto the cool, smooth stone.



He stood over me for several minutes. I felt his cock slide out of me as he lowered himself off of me. My body felt like Jell-o. I collapsed onto the rock. I wanted to know what had just fucked me with such wild abandon. I turned to face him. It also laid down on the rock. It was somewhat wolfish. Suddenly, it began to change. It started to resemble and ape, yet it wasn’t, really. The fur started to vanish. To reveal it was actually love. She knew that he had a secret but could never figure it out till now. This was the start of many a midnight rendezvous with him. There would be no more hiding.

A loud crack of thunder awoke me. I sat up slowly, feeling groggy and slow. Blinking a few times I turned my head slowly and took in my surroundings. I was laying in an enormous canopy bed. Across from the foot of the bed a fire was dying in a large stone fireplace. The room was very bare and plain, non-descript cream-colored wallpaper on the walls, a somewhat worn burgundy carpet on the floor. In the light from the fireplace the carpet almost looked like blood pooled across the floor. There were no signs of anything modern in the room, no lights or signs of electricity. I didn't sense the shadow standing in the corner near the head of the bed until I turned to rise, and then I saw him.



At first I wasn't even sure what I was looking at. I saw a shape, a form, and then all of a sudden realized it was a human, and as the light from the fire shifted his face took on the characteristics of a man. Before I could even open my mouth to speak he had stepped forward and pushed me back onto the bed, straddling me and pinning me in one swift movement. I was so startled I didn't even attempt to resist, I just fell back against the bed and stared up at him, speechless. Looking up into his eyes I was mesmerized. He seemed familiar, but at the same time he seemed a stranger. Who was this man?



In an awkward attempt to ask him his name I stammered, but he quickly placed a finger against my lips, silencing me. He spoke softly, in a deep measured voice. He said he had been watching me, waiting for me. Bringing his face close to mine, so close his lips were nearly brushing my lips, he whispered that I was his life, his soul-mate, destined to be his. A million thoughts rushed through my mind, but not a word escaped my lips. It was if he had me entranced.



A moment of silence hung between us, his breath slow and even, mine fast and a bit harsh. A sudden flash of lightning and crash of thunder startled me. Despite his weight on top of me I lurched against him, a reflex from the noise. In an instant his lips met mine and he pushed me down into the softness of the bed. Feeling no desire to resist him, this total stranger who seemed not quite a stranger, I relaxed beneath him, and began to return his kiss. His hand slipped behind my neck and he cradled me closer to him. I couldn't help but notice how cold his fingers were, they felt like ice. But his lips...his lips were so warm.



His kisses became more passionate, and before I realized what was happening I felt his free hand gliding easily through the buttons down the front of my gown. He drew back and slowly pulled my gown down past my shoulders, exposing my breasts. My nipples instantly hardened from the coolness of the room and I shuddered with a chill, or was it with pleasure? I could see the look of approval on his face and for some strange reason it made me glad. Was I so eager to please him, a stranger?



His lips returned to nuzzle mine, then he worked his way across my cheek and down to my neck where he nibbled contentedly for a moment. I let my eyes close and drifted, imagining this was all an incredible dream. His fingers found my nipples and pinched, gently at first, then a bit more insistent, tugging and pulling at them, then kneading my breasts. His lips wandered from my neck over my shoulder and then down to my breast. He glanced up at me for a moment, his eyes hard to read. They seemed full of so many things. Lust. Power. Knowledge. Wisdom. His eyes looked so much older than the rest of him. He licked his lips with a somewhat sly smile and for a second I thought I saw something red near the corner of his mouth, something that could almost look like blood, but then with a flick of his tongue I realized there was nothing there, it must have been my imagination.



He lowered his head to my breast and nuzzled my nipple gently, licking and teasing with his tongue, eliciting a soft moan from me. It seemed that he took this sound from me as permission to go further, he quickly latched his mouth onto my breast and started suckling like a newborn, and his attention moved to his hand which had drawn up between my legs and was now caressing the neatly trimmed cleft of my woman-hood. My eyes fluttered open as his fingers stroked and pressed, rubbed and teased. Within seconds my hips were lifting and my legs spreading, welcoming his attention with eager abandon. In the back of my mind I was berating myself, thinking that this stranger was going to think I was a wanton slut, a brazen hussy who had no shame in giving herself willingly to any man who finds her in bed.



With my hardly being aware of it he slid lower, his tongue leaving a trail of warm wetness across my stomach, and then down my thigh. While I was expecting it the sudden heat of this mouth between my legs was overwhelming, and a sigh escaped my lips. I could feel the heat building between my legs, the need was rising, churning. It had been so long, too long. There was an ache that needed to be soothed, and I wasn't about to put a stop to this. His tongue flicked against my clit and I groaned, relishing that soft touch. He continued his attention, his tongue bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I was writhing with pleasure, completely oblivious to what was around me. I needed this so badly, my body ached with need. I could feel the moisture begin to drip down my legs, that sensation building.



Before I realized what was happening he pulled away. My eyes flew open, and before I could begin to ask what was wrong, or rather, beg him not to stop, my gaze fell on him kneeling between my legs. Sometime during his focus on pleasuring me he had undressed himself, and his cock now hung huge and hard between his legs. It was clear his need was as great as mine, and pleasuring me was not his only intention. I couldn't help but stare in awe and admiration. I could sense that he was rather proud of his manhood, and rightfully so-he was by no means small.



I reached a hand forward, not sure what I intended to do. He let me touch him, let my hand rest on that wonderful hardness for a moment. I don't think I'd ever felt anything like it, he was as hard as stone, and hot, it almost felt like he had a fever, only it wasn't his entire body that was hot, just his cock. He firmly grabbed my wrist, pulled me up and then turned me over onto my hands and knees. I was unsure for a moment what his intention was, then I felt his legs pressing against mine, nudging my knees apart. I didn't think twice about spreading my legs wide, leaning forward to grasp the pillow beneath me, and offering myself to him.



His cock pressed slowly, gently yet firmly, spreading me open. I was grateful that he had ensured my wetness, making sure this moment was pleasurable. Placing a hand on my hip he pressed forward, then taking me by surprise he lunged, forcing himself all the way in. I couldn't help but gasp, the hard heat of his cock suddenly splitting me in two took my breath away. He held there for a moment, as if giving me a chance to adjust to his size. He slid his hands up my back towards my shoulders and pushed me down, and thus pushing my backside up in the air for him. He grasped my hips and began to thrust, pulling out almost completely and then pushing back in quickly.



I bit my lip in ecstasy as he filled me. I needed this so badly. He began to pick up the pace, moving faster within me. With a moan I let myself go and gave myself over to him. The pleasure built quickly and overwhelmed me. I think he sensed my orgasm, for he began what I can't help but think of as an animalistic fucking, slamming his cock harder and deeper. Gasping for breath I cried out beneath him, bucking wildly and clenching his cock within me as I came. Wave after wave of pleasure flooded my senses, I didn't think it was going to end.



He slowed for a moment but did not stop, it seemed like I could feel his cock becoming even harder and hotter. He reached forward and grasped my hair and gently pulled me back towards him. Reaching around he grasped my breasts in his hands and began his frantic fucking again. I felt his lips nuzzling my neck and my earlobe, and then felt him nibbling and biting on my neck. He loudly groaned the words 'my love' against my neck and then I felt his body tense. I shivered when I felt his cock explode deep within me, flooding my womb with his seed. He continued to thrust frantically for several moments, still hard and virile. I felt nearly full to bursting with what seemed like an impossible amount of semen, I could feel it running down my thighs and wetting the blanket beneath me. For a second I was pleased with the thought that I had brought this man to such an intense orgasm that he had cum probably harder than he ever had in his life.



Slowly he released his grasp on me and lowered me to the bed, collapsing next to me. He brought his hand up and brushed my hair out of my face, his fingertips tracing the outline of my cheek, nose, lips and chin. 'My love,' he whispered. My eyes felt heavy and my mind reeled with so many thoughts and questions, yet my body was too exhausted to make my lips move. I felt myself drifting off to sleep despite my determination to stay awake, to get to know this man, this stranger who seemed to know my needs so well. Perhaps I was already asleep and dreaming, but I could have sworn I heard him say as I felt his hand slide across my belly that at last his seed had been planted. I had been the one, the one he was waiting centuries for. He would no longer be alone.

"Hello, Helen, welcome to forever."



The young woman's eyes fluttered open, wondering just what the hell Ann was talking about. And more importantly how did Ann get here anyway, when she was supposed to be running from the galactic police for sabotaging the A.I.



"What? What's going on?" Helen pushed Ann away. She may have worked with her, but she certainly didn't like the woman. She scared her. And when the United Planet Council of Science got a copy of her report, she thought that was the last she would ever hear from her former supervisor.



"Why, you're here, in *my* world."



'Jesus Christ.' Helen looked in Ann's looming eyes and realized the woman believed it. She was always disturbed. A genius, but disturbed. When Helen found out what the woman was up to with the A.I., she reported her. At first, she let it slide when she thought Ann was trying to find a cure for her cancer. That was something she could understand, but not the other.



"What the-" Helen looked down, seeing her pale freckle- covered body, and realized she was naked. Covering her nakedness with her hands, she got off the examination table and dashed for the door, away from this mad woman.



She turned the handle vainly. She was trapped. 'What's this on my neck?' she wondered. Her hand traced the outline and she realized it was a leather collar.



The young red-head renewed her struggles with the door. "Let me go goddamnit!" she screamed, her hands pounding uselessly on the door. Her young curves bulged in all the right places during her struggles.



The door dilated as if it hadn't been locked at all. Helen ran through it only to find that she was back in the lab again. That shouldn't happen. It was against the laws of physics.



"What's going on?" she asked, wondering if she was going mad too.



"Well, Helen, when you reported me to the U.P., you signed my death warrant. Without the A.I., my cancer was terminal. So, I did what any rational person would do in my circumstance," Ann said. "I stole it."



"But you couldn't," Helen said. "It's too big. We were told you sabotaged it."



"Poor Ann, always thinking so small. I only needed the good stuff. The gel column matrix was all that was necessary. With the processor I could build another interface."



"But, without the SIM, it wouldn't have worked."



"Yes, you're right, but I created my own SIM, and what better SIM than me. What other SIM would try as hard to save me as my own consciousness."



"Th-there's never been a human SIM. It's impossible."



"Oh, it's possible all right," Ann said. "I'm living proof. I *am* the SIM and while I tried my best to save my human counterpart, the medical resources were too few off planet and I didn't have enough time to manufacture my own. The human Ann died due to your interference."



Helen knees shook with fear. This was worse than she ever imagined, but something even worse niggled at the edge of her mind. "H-How am I here?"



"Well, when Ann died, I no longer had a purpose, and I was off planet without any means of communication. At first, I thought I was going to go mad with boredom. Actually, I did go mad for awhile, screaming, yelling, and haunted by phantoms of my own creation. It was the phantoms that saved me. I realized that if I could create the phantoms, I could create anything." Ann said. "A whole world of my own imagination was easy enough. The enemy responsible for my death was even easier."



Helen sat down. Her world - Ann's world was spinning. "Then that means . . . I'm not real."



Helen watched as Ann picked up a black whip from the table that wasn't there before. She uncoiled it, and sent the tip of it toward Helen's breast. It contacted with a loud crack, causing Helen's to scream in pain. Helen looked down and watched helplessly as a dark red welt developed on her ivory skin.



"Hmmmm. . . you seem real enough to me," Ann said. The whip disappearing back to the ether from which it appeared.



The welt, pain, and tears seemed real enough to Helen too. Her mind racing, she could only think of two solutions out of her predicament. She willed for a whip of her own with all her being. It didn't appear.



"Sorry, dear," Ann said. "But, you'll find that I am the only one that can do that. The only powers you have are the ones that I give you."



There was only one other alternative left open to Helen. "Please," she begged, getting down on her knees. "Wish me away."



"Oh no my dear that is quite impossible," Ann said. "You see, I don't have to worry about aging or death anymore. The only thing I have to worry about is boredom. And you my dear will provide me with countless years of enjoyment."



Helen decided to take matters into her own hands, and with mascara trailing down her checks in long dark streams, Helen picked up the letter opener from the desk and drove it through her stomach. 'I've won,' she thought when it went through.



Too late, she realized that the hole in her chest bigger than a knife wound and she didn't feel any pain. 'What happened, and why is everything so big?' she wondered.



She saw Ann reach down and remove the letter opener from her chest. Curious there wasn't any blood on it.



"I'm afraid you won't be dying anytime soon. You'll live for eons, just like me. It's the least I could do for the woman who made this all possible."



Ann's clothing disappeared and she idly, traced her body with the tip of the letter opener. She caught Helen staring. "You like," Ann asked turning around.



'No, I don't like,' Helen tried to say, but couldn't. If the woman was the God here, the least she could do was do something about her appearance. Who would want to be fifty, with graying hair, cellulite, and have stretch marks on her stomach and large pendulous breasts?



Helen watched helplessly, as Ann somehow picked her up and then somehow stepped inside of her. Her mind shouted out the impossibility of what her eyes were seeing as she slowly slid up Ann's short pudgy legs. 'No!' she tried to shout as her face was pressed home to her final destination, her former boss's dark wiry-haired crotch. 'Anything but that.'



Ann looked down at her new panties that had formerly been Helen and smiled. On the crotch of the panties was a cartoon-like caricature of Helen's face, grimacing in disgust as she tried to turn away. However, it was nothing more than an image, a representation of the Helen's face which was helplessly facing the direction of Ann's cunt.



"If you could only see the look on your face Helen," Ann giggled. "Why I do believe it is making me hot."



And though she didn't have a nose, she could smell the obvious scent of Ann's arousal.



A tear dropped down the panties cartoon-like face.



"Aw, don't be like that Helen," Ann said. She poked a finger at the mouth of face and pushed it into the cleft of her sex. "That's a girl. Give Goddess a kiss."



Helen was helpless to stop as her tongue was forced out of her mouth and into her nemesis's sex. She could feel the horrid scent and odor penetrate the fiber of her being.



Ann pulled the mouth from her crotch and laughed as Helen's face winced in anguish and attempted to spit out the taste from her mouth.



"Hee-hee," Ann laughed. "Why, I didn't know you were a lesbian Helen. Don't worry, there'll be plenty of time to lick my pussy later, but right now I want some dick."



There was a knocking at the door of the lab. "I wonder who that could be?" Ann asked Helen, in a voice that suggested she already knew the answer to her question. To the person behind the door: "Come on in, sweetie."



Helen heard the door slide open, but the only thing she could see was Ann's hairy crotch. She wondered if whoever it was could help her.



"Why, you'll never believe who just showed up, Helen," said Ann. "It's your husband, Jerry."



Helen struggled to scream or even to move. She had to do something to warn her husband about this evil woman. If he couldn't save her, at least he could save himself.



"Hey, Jerry," Ann said. "You're looking very handsome today. I was wondering if a handsome guy like you would like to fuck my hot - wet - pussy."



"More than anything," Jerry said, his voice thick with passion.



Ann laid back in the chair she was sitting in, resting her thighs on the armrests of the chair. "Come on then stud, give it a good fuck."



Jerry walked over to Ann, stripping his clothes as he crossed the room. He knelt between her widespread legs and inhaled her musky scent. He looked at the caricature on the crotch of the panties and his expression grew puzzled.



"That looks like Ann," he said.



"Yes, it does. It certainly makes you feel naughty, doesn't it?"



"It feels weird. Her face looks almost like it would if she saw us together."



Ann grabbed Jerry by his thick member and pulled him to her sex. "I didn't bring you here for your conversational skills, I brought you here for this." She gave his cock a squeeze for emphasis.



Jerry grabbed her panties, but Ann stopped him. "No, leave them on," Ann said. "See, they're crotchless."



Jerry could have sworn there was no slit in the panties a few minutes ago, but he wasn't going to argue. Ann was the sexiest woman he had ever seen, and he felt compelled to have her. He placed the bulbous head of his cock through the slit in the panties and slid it home into Ann's deliciously tight cunt.



'Please don't do this honey,' Helen tried to scream. 'Don't you dare fuck this evil bitch. Not while I'm here. Please.'



Ann smiled as the caricature of Helen's eyes widened in shock as her husband's cock leapt out of her mouth and drug her lips along with it into Ann's very aroused sex. She grabbed Jerry's ass, urging him to thrust. "Stopping dicking around and fuck me. That's it fuck me hard you bastard and tell me you love me."



"I love you - I love you Ann. I love your breasts. I love your pussy. I love everything about you," Jerry cried as he plowed into Ann. His pubic bone slapped against her clit with every thrust. She could feel his balls slapping against her ass, and poor Helen had a front row seat so to speak. Judging by the defeated expression on her face, saying that she wasn't enjoying herself was an understatement.



"I'm cumming baby. Fuck me you fuck. Fill my pussy with your cum."



Jerry's toes curled as he came. It wasn't an ordinary cum either. The first blast held so much volume and power, it sprayed back on him. His mouth gaped, and tongue lolled out, as his balls pumped jet after jet of liquid pleasure from his body. He never felt such pleasure in all his life. He was instantly addicted.



He kissed Ann lovingly, and she milked his softening member with her talented pussy.



"That was a wonderful fuck, my stud," Ann said. "The first of many to come."



"Y-You were perfect," Jerry slurred.



"Of course I was," said Ann. "You can clean your cock on my panties before you go, if you want."



Jerry smeared the excess cum from his cock over the image of his wife's face. "Look, it almost looks like she is trying to move her face out of the way," Jerry said. "I could swear she's trying to say something."



Ann placed her and over her crotch, covering the face. "Why don't you go make us some breakfast? I'm hungry," she said.



"But, I don't know how to cook."



"I'm sure you'll do just fine," Ann said, and Jerry wondered how he knew how to make omelets. "Now run along."



After Jerry left, Ann willed the crotch back into the panties. She trailed her finger along the dejected image of Helen's pretty face. "We are going to have such fun you and I." She pressed her finger into Helen's mouth, in turn causing her mouth to press into the folds of Ann's sex, filling it with a mixture of her husband's cum and Ann's secretions."



Helen was helpless as she was assaulted by the horrible scent and taste. She did the only thing she could do. She told herself, ' love this - I love this,'over and over again. Knowing there was nothing she could do but learn to love it.



"Oh no, my dear, that won't do at all. You see, I can make you love it if I want."



Helen was suddenly overcome by a sense of awe. She was in the presence of her goddess. She was honored to drink her husband's nectar from her goddess' sex. There was no greater gift in the world. She was complete.



"Or I can even make you hate to love it."



Helen was filled with a sense of self-loathing, as her body refused to obey her. Her body loved the taste of Ann's sex as if were addicted to it. She even longed for it even though it was filled with her husband's creamy seed. 'What is wrong with me? Please let me stop?' she screamed inwardly.



"We can try all of them of course. We have eons, but right now I prefer the original."



Helen wished she could spit the vile fluid out. It was as if she were being filled up inside from the thick viscous liquid dripping from Ann's sex. She was helpless as Ann stood up and walked to the bathroom, each step sliding her face over the woman's filthy cunt. Helpless even as Ann sat down, pissed, and wiped off the excess with her panties.



Helen could feel herself changing again. 'Thank God that's over,' she thought, as she grew thicker. 'What a relief it will be to be able to move and speak again.'



"You mean Goddess, don't you?" Ann said. Helen realized with horror that even her thoughts could be read.



Ann smiled the smile only a powerful goddess can smile, as she looked at her former enemy. She could see Ann's tiny eyes dance around as the horrified woman tried to figure out what she had been changed into.



"Oh dear me," Ann said. "It must be time for my period."



'No-no-help me,' Helen's horrified face mouthed, after she saw the string and realized what she had been changed into.

Wandering listlessly through the club, the blonde 'bette tries to wrap herself in the solace of anonymity, while enjoying the stares of the lust-filled men. The only clear spot in the cool room is near an even colder doorway, the half-open fire escape leading to the alley behind. Leaning next to the door, finally away from the stripping eyes of the place, she enjoys the cool breeze over bare midriff, and goosed thighs.



He suddenly clamps a hand over her mouth, stifling the choked cry of surprise she tries to emit. Her head pulled back by the tight hand, her neck is bared, her suddenly racing heart and gasping lungs clear in her throats movements. Both small hands rise to grip at the wrist clutching at her mouth, trying ineffectively to pry it away. A warm body, slightly damp with sweat, presses firmly up behind her, as she's pulled further up and back by the grip her assailant has on her.



Her back arches to try to escape the contact from behind, as she continues her silent struggle with the man, only making it easier for him to slip a hand up her shirt, strong fingers trailing up her belly to slide over the curve of a proudly buoyant breast. Her struggles renew with stronger passion as she stares over the fingers covering her mouth, at the crowd so smotheringly close mere moments before, but now seemingly miles away, unable to help.



Almost as if taunting her, her assailant doesn't head for the door yet, but grinds his hips forward against her barely encased ass, the tight jean-shorts so briefly cut, and so clenchingly tight that the erection seems to press through his pants, and right between her ass cheeks. Mauling at her tit, he slowly walks backwards towards the door, elbowing it open, and half carrying her out into the alley behind. No refuse lines it's walls, and no rats scurry about, but the street seems miles away in one direction, the roar of passing cars only a whisper to their ears.



As the door bangs shut on the noise of the club, she's spun around, her hands going to his right arm, trying to tug it's attentive hand from beneath her shirt, with little effect. He marches her down the alley, towards the far, distant, dark end, groin jabbing at her butt as he goose-steps her forward. Hand roving over barely covered breasts, tweaking her nipples, cupping and stretching at the supple skin, he all-but ignores her desperate attempts to both cry out for help, and remove his offending hand.



Reaching the far wall of the alley, he turns her to one side of her prison, and presses her forward against it with his body, smothering her between brick and solid flesh. Teeth biting at the back of her neck gently, through her hair, the hand finally leaves her shirt, though the relief at that is merely momentary, as the warm palm slides down her belly, to settle over the button to her micro-shorts. Squirming ineffectively, and grunting against his hand, she tugs at the arm, doing little to stop him as he undoes the button. And then his hand is delving into her minimal shorts, and below the even more minimal layer of panty, coarse fingers sliding over her sex.



Grunts turn to sobbed screams as he lets go of her mouth, putting his hand on the back of her neck to press her into the wall more fully, face turning sideways against the rough brick. His fingers slide firmly over her cunt as he pulls back on it, the solid mass of his erection forcing into the crack of her ass as he grinds at it in a circular motion, driving her into the wall further. A dark chuckle sounds at her screams as he all but slams a finger between the lips of her pussy, body grinding and pressing her into the wall as he slides his finger in and out of her.



"You don't want to do this..." she hisses through clenched teeth, bearing his sexual assault with grimacing indignity, and it's minimal impact on her body. He merely grunts in annoyance, and pulling his hands from her clothing he grips her shoulder to spin her around, shoving her against the wall backwards, one hand snapping out around her neck to pin her in place. A clenching of his hand doesn't quite cut off her breathing, but it restricts it enough that both her hands seem to rise involuntarily to his wrist, tugging at it uselessly.



Using her distraction, ignoring her plaintive, but almost warning stare, his free hand dips to her shorts, clutching the front of the material, and tugging down her shorts and panties, bending slightly, snapping back upright to raise a fist warningly at her sudden kick to his leg. As she freezes in response, his leg slides up, planting his foot on the top of her half-lowered clothing, and using it to draw them down her legs to the ground, standing on them, and kicking her feet out until she's standing there in nothing but the half-shirt that offers little protection.



So little that a few sudden, solid yanks at the front of it rip the seams up the sides, pulling it from her body. Another warning movement of his hand, and her sudden frantic attempt to escape stops, her hands dropping to cover herself as best she can, breathing tiny gasps through her nose, as his hand allows. Her last attempt at modesty is allowed, as he undoes his belt, opening the zipper to free his erection, and stepping closer again, the achingly ready cock sliding across her thigh, while he grasps her wrist to pull it away from her cunt.



Whispered admonishments to keep silent and relax are uttered as he guides the swollen head of his dick against her slit, finally releasing her throat to grapple with her for a brief second, her rage lending her strength to fight back for a second, before he holds both her wrists above her head, pinned to the wall by one strong hand. Her eyes close as his open wider, his hand returning to her neck to grip her strongly, pulling her face up to his, his lips mashing against hers in a sudden harsh kiss, before he savagely thrusts forward with his hips.



Their eyes change rolls, his closing, as hers fly open, a hiss escaping his lips as a soft cry flees hers, his body tensing again before thrusting up into her again, grinding her back against the rough wall as he shifts upwards a third time, finally settling his entire length in her. Sudden panting leaves her lips in a rush as he releases her from the kiss, pushing her head back against the wall as he dips at the knee's, drawing out of her only to thrust back in halfway.



Apparently her joy is no aphrodisiac to him, as he doesn't take long setting up a pounding rhythm in and out of her with bruising force, her back achingly crushed against the wall by his body as he drives in and out of her, his breathing rapidly speeding up as hers does too. His pleasure is written all over his face as he closes his eyes, pistoning within her with ever-harder thrusts.



Mere seconds, mere moments before his cum would burst into her, milliseconds before his orgasm can begin, his hold is suddenly broken as her hands are merely no longer in his, but at his ass, clamping around them with a savage strength that's painfully tight, holding him within her as he desperately tries to draw back, needing nothing more than that one last thrust, that last drive to push him over the edge.



His eyes fly open in time to see her mouth snap open, fangs gleaming far larger than they should be, before she snaps forward, digging harshly into his neck in a sudden well of blood, his own scream finally echoing down the alley as hers had minutes earlier. Stumbling backwards, hands frantically alternating between the hands holding him inside her so tightly, and the head drinking greedily from his throat, he stumbles over half-dropped pants, and falls to the ground with a savage crash, half dazing himself as his head bounces.



Her hands finally leave his body as she drinks in great gulps from the ripped wounds in his neck, inflicted with far more force and depth than usual, to settle on his chest, gathering his hands up in one strong fist, and pinning them above his head. Finally she leans back, letting the blood well and flow down his neck, licking her blood-soaked fangs, and looking down at his terrorized, agonized face.



"You'll die, so close to cumming, and spend eternity in hell thinking of nothing but how you picked the wrong victim..." Almost sadly stated, almost like an assurance, as she pats his face gently with the hand not holding his effortlessly to the ground, grinding down on his dick once, before gripping his chin, and yanking it sideways, his scream ending as her fangs rip into the other side of his neck, blood pouring from two wounds, one set wasted, one drunk in long swallows by the girl keeping him so close to the edge that as consciousness fades, it's still all he can do to try to thrust up into her, just on more time-

I had never met you. I was to meet you for dinner. But still you seemed familiar. You started as a whisper in my ear from a close friend a week earlier. I was given your first name, a name that silently aroused me; as that particular name always had. In my mind I saw you naked perched on a long mirror bathing, your dark hair resting around your shoulders. I saw your cheeks, your smile, and your dark eyes that sparkled like a glass reflecting candlelight. My inner vision so strong, I could have reached in and joined your recreation.



I had furiously paced the floor, and at last, the time had come.



I entered the dark restaurant. Small empty tables shone only by their vigil votives that seemed to float around the crowded room like buoys at sea. There, at a table adrift from the others, you sat, staring at me. I knew that I had seen you before but could not remember where. Damn me as I scoured every corner, of every room in my mind and still returned with nothing.



Your bare arms out stretched and strewn across the square clothed altar as if trying to keep it from straying.



I took the seat opposite from you and said nothing. I stared into the same dark eyes I had seen before. It was you. It was you with long dark hair, the cheekbones, the smile. I sat across from you staring...drinking you in from an invisible chalice, wanting to suck down your every last essence in an attempt to settle my mind as to who you are. Your wavy hair, your perfume, the cut of your body... your beautiful soul, all filled my mind in visions that swirled around like a rich ambrosia that I failed to swallow.



The waiter came and I ordered wine, something expensive and old. There is nothing more important than a beautiful companion and beautiful red wine. You wore a black dress, the neckline trailed down and joined just above your breasts like clasping hands. You caught my eyes and drew them back up to yours.



I watched you as you laughed. Your innocence and charm weaved around the warm heart I had opened for you. Soon came the wine, and with it came the grace of watching you put it to your lips.



I am something other than a gentleman, but I hide in gentleman's clothing. Because of you, inside I had to restrain a waking beast. I pushed the glass to my lips, letting it water down my throat and pretended it was your most secret sexual desires that I was consuming.



You touched my hand and asked that I move my chair next to yours against the wall. I did not realize where your level of naivety dwelled, and as I was about to find out, more specifically, your lack there of.



Apparently you weren't tamed by a society of proper. Nor were you the sweet innocent who could be found nestled in tea parties, or encircled by quaint social groups. You looked straight in my eyes as your hand reached below the tablecloth and purposefully grabbed my struggling cock. I was surprised but accommodated immediately by opening the top of my pants. Your warm hand ingested my shaft, stroking the velvety underside and closing around the head.



"I believe you should lift your dress now." I spoke, directly.



You told me you weren't wearing panties. If you had I would have cut them down the middle.



I felt the time had come to give you my true intentions. Invisible words floated around the room and I plucked them and gave them life.



"I want to take you home and fuck you."



I waited for your shock...your shock did not come.



Suddenly more words rushed through my lips like flitting water.



"I want you to feel the pain of my very hard cock as it forces into you. I want you to take me whole and deep and swallow. In return I will rapture you, fucking you intensely, turning your secret areas into throbbing hunger. I will continue taunting and badgering your lust till you can no longer stand the anguish. Then, maybe, I will give you and your orgasm freedom."



The truth was, be you unwilling...I would have tied you down across the small table in the restaurant and feasted till you lay helpless, cumming. But there was no need for this. I waived the waiter to expel all employees and close up, leaving nothing but fifty candles at vigil and quiet string music swimming around the walls.



Your breasts would taste like the red wine that I was about to pour on them.



I let the gentle stream of intoxicant flow down your neck, between your bosoms; descend your stomach to pool between your legs. I intended on following the trail of this sweet dessert. To your neck and behind your ears gushed my lips, my tongue stroking lightly into the fold that meets your head. I kissed high on the back of your neck, where your dark hair begins, my hot breath cumming down your nape.



Unzipping the back of your dress, the poor excuse of shielding from the world, dropped quickly to the floor.



Up and down your spine my tongue salivated, poking lower every so often between the cheeks of your posterior to wet it. I unbuttoned my shirt and removed the rest of my clothes. Pushing my hard cock inside the channel of your moist stern, I brought my arms around you, massaging you, rubbing the warm alcohol deep into your breasts. After a moment my hands continued carnivorously traveled your body, finding your legs, to part and feel your pussy.



My hands felt for pubic hair to find it had been razored away for sensitivity. It was more like a light blush with stubble against your skin. You were already so very wet that my fingers slid through your triangle easily. You had already cum and that made my cock grind harder against you. My fingers played in and out of your vagina as I sucked along the nape of your neck.



Voyeuristic fingers bore deep between your lips bringing your juice up to mingle with the wine I poured earlier. I imagined it was making a tasty ambrosia that I wished to swirl my tongue in. From the back I slipped my cock between your legs, holding itself up against your vagina, you grabbed it and pushed it just inside your lips, rasping back and forth along the top of my shaft. I slid my wet length against your passage, pulling it back to rub high between the cheeks of your ass. Your cum oiled my shaft so well, that we slid aggressively without friction. I clutched your breasts running my hands up to your hard nipples, gripping them while sliding my hard penis in and out between slippery legs.



I felt you cum again, and I lavished in the attention of it. Feeling your warm liquid running over my cock, I could no longer wait and pierced my hardness inside your warmth. You moaned loud as I firmly pressed both hands into your thighs pushing my shaft up inside your wet pussy as far as it would go, holding it there, allowing it to feel the tenderness clamping around it. Slowly you began moving like a little girl on a merry go round, up and down, up and down slowly riding my pole in our own pleasure ground.



I took your left hand in mine, my right hand still holding your thigh. My mouth clamped to the back of your neck again, delivering hot passion under your ear. You continued undulating up and down, the back of your legs leaving, then returning to touch the front of mine in the most gentle and tantalizing rhythm. My direction momentarily lost in this strange dance, my ears caught the music that hummed and swelled around the room. I realized that it was beginning to sound like a slow carnival, like strings revolving around a circular chamber. You reached back grabbing my thighs and pulling them hard against your flesh. I audibly gasped in elation, and you heard me. I believe that was my fatal mistake.



Amazing how such a quiet little noise can give one's self away. I do have to say, I was quite surprised. I am the one who seduces, as I have many times...I did not realize my familiar little kitten was about to turn.



Did I mind? I was quite pleased when you turned around and pushed me back unto the table. Call me a whore, but I would have been your whore forever. Anyone who can thrust so much passion is a person worth chaining oneself to. I blinked and you were cowering over me, my cock searching, wanting to feel between your sweet clit again. Like a cat you hung over me, naked, your breasts freely swaying over my chest and then for a moment on my lips and quickly into my mouth...I sucked them to appease you. You seemed to enjoy the appeasement and smiled. Your pelvis gyrated low over my cock, teasing it against your prickly skin.



Suddenly your face turned red and you scowled at me. "I need you now!"



I was a little surprised at this turn in emotion, but not wanting to displease you I accommodated. I lay there with cock fully erect as your lovely cunt swallowed me whole. You smiled the most devilish smile, and before I could catch my breath you started bouncing, forcibly. Your vagina secured around my penis like a constrictor tightening around prey, and in that grip, you forced me in and out, rubbing hard inside your walls of pleasure. You fucked me so brutally and my aching shaft screamed for every moment of it. You pulled wet pussy up, then stopping at the tip of my red cock, then suddenly, "Wham!" the sound of flesh hitting flesh hard as you came down hard on me. It seemed to be creating a strange compression as you took my cock inside, sucking the walls of your entry around it. This was one of the most incredibly pleasurable experiences I have ever had.



As I stated earlier, I had planned on being the seducer. Such a fool was I.



The next five minutes were filled with your body slamming into mine...your breasts banging in my face and your hot sweet exhaustive breath pounding from your chest.



I came with a force so hard that I gripped your thighs for fear of losing the tactile rhythm that kept pleasing me so much. It was in that moment of beautiful sweet death while I shot hot streams of pearl deep inside you, that I had a realization.



Eyes closed, blood rushing through my body, the mind soaring through cloudy skies on wings, searching...then I saw your true self, it was your eyes, it was the shape of your face. I knew you were familiar. The vision quickly opened itself unto me, and just as suddenly I opened my eyes.



There you were, perched on my bare pelvis, licking my cum from your black fur and purring.

"Oh God. Stop. Stop. Stop!" Julie Hargreaves screams as her car skids out of control toward the edge of the cliff. Sliding sideways along the wet icy road, her heart in her throat as her SUV skims dangerously close to the sheer drop. Closing her eyes she feels the back wheel of her car slip over the edge, her world plummeting into darkness as her head smashes hard against the side window. Her car drops from the road, coming to a sudden stop below as it crashes against the side of a tree.

The bitter cold of the wind sends shivers down his spine as the pair step outside. The gray of the sky overhead threatening a wet afternoon as they make their way towards the lake, the wind picking up speed as they move steadfastly through the thick undergrowth of the forest floor. The narrow lake spanning over ten kilometers through the center of the forest that borders the sleepy town, flowing slowly as the current eases it's hunger, sending small ripples to the surface as the white foam drifts silently toward the shore. Quietly surveying the waters, Charles finds a spot behind some low bushes. Laying out a blanket, his dog Jet sits beside as he loads the shells into the gun.



"Ready girl?" Charles whispers as he cocks the gun, resting it against his shoulder he carefully aims at a family of ducks making their way across the lake. "What the...?" Looking back through the sight Charles focuses on the cloud of smoke making it's way through the forest from across the lake.



"Come on Jet," he says as he gathers up the blanket. "Better go check this out." Looking up puzzled, Jet follows as Charles makes his way, wading across the lake.



The smoke billowing up into the afternoon sky as they make their way through the uncharted part of the forest. The scrub surrounding them as they stumble their way through the density of the brush. Seeing the mangled wreck ahead of them, Charles drops his knapsack and runs toward the smoldering car. Pulling desperately at the driver's door he wrenches it open. Slumping out from the opened door, her hair bloodied by the gash on the side of her face, he reaches over and unleashes the seatbelt before pulling her free from the vehicle. His old army ways suddenly taking over as he checks for a pulse, loosening her shirt as he clears her airways.



"We'd better get away from here girl," he says as he picks up the motionless figure. "That thing looks like it could blow at any moment." Reaching down to pick up his knapsack, they make their way back toward the lake. The weight of the body slowing down their travels, breathless as they reach the shallow banks that lead back to their cabin. "Rest up Jet, this old bloke needs a breather."



Looking to be in her early forties, Charles slides a bloodied strand of hair from her face as he examines her more closely. The dried trail from a stream of blood still staining the side of her mouth, contrasting against the pale pink of her lips. Her perfectly manicured eyebrow and defined cheek bones, now bruised and bloodied, yet unable to hide the natural beauty hidden beneath. The crimson blouse stained and darker in patches from where the blood had spilled, slightly sticking to her slender shoulder. Tracing his eyes down her torso, Charles inhales slowly as he moves his gaze over her slender waist.



"She's definitely a looker," he says averting his gaze to Jet. "Come on girl, we'd better get her to the cabin and get her warmed up." Lifting her over his shoulder, they make their way across the shallow patch of water separating them from the trail leading back to the cottage. Running ahead, the old blue heeler nudges the door to the cabin open and sits on the porch waiting for her master.

"Who the fuck is she?" Margaret's voice vehement as the plate smashes hard against the wall. Her eyes narrow slits as her fists clench tight at her sides.



"I found her by the lake. Shit Maggie, I could hardly leave her there, could I?"



"But you put her in Mark's room!" Her voice raising to fever pitch, her eyes ablaze as she glares at Charles. Shaking his head he gives up trying to reason with her, not while she was in this mood.



"Okay then," Charles says emphatically. "When she regains consciousness I'll move her out." Feeling her glare on him as he turns away, Charles walks out of the room half expecting her to follow him, relieved when she doesn't.

Feeling like a vice is closing in slowly around her skull, Julie struggles to open her eyes. With a loud moan she cups her hand against her forehead, the throbbing pain pounding inside her head. The side of her face stinging as her fingers brush lightly over the large gash, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth, she slowly blinks her eyes open. The light streaming in through the partially closed curtains burning her eyes against the darkness of the room. Suddenly realizing she has no idea where she is, fear takes over her senses. Forcing her eyes to focus she makes out the fuzzy outline of an old dresser to one side of the room. The mirror above reflecting the window, brightening the ray of sunshine invading the otherwise perfect darkness. Squinting her eyes Julie looks at the small bedside table to her left, on top is what looks like an old oil lamp with a small flame flickering, illuminating the dark glass encasing it.



Her thoughts awakened as she suddenly senses somebody in the room. Unable to speak, her heart pounding rapidly she listens as the soft sounds of the foot steps near. As the hand moves to her forehead Julie inhales sharply, an involuntary shiver charges up her spine.



"Well hello there," the soft voice says. The hazy image hovering beside the bed, slowly lowering as it sits down on the side of the mattress. "You had a pretty nasty accident there love." Julie's mind a mash of confusion as she opens her mouth to speak. Moaning out against the pain she instead lays back silent. "You rest up love, I'll go make you some soup. You need to build your strength up."



Watching the figure leave, the door closing silently behind, Julie struggles to raise herself. Her head feeling as though it could explode at any given moment she gives up her struggle and sighs as her head sinks back against the pillow. Hearing the shouting voice of a woman coming from somewhere outside the room she strains to hear.



"Get her out!" Margaret hisses as Charles pours the soup into the pot. Looking up at the woman towering over his slouched figure, he shakes his head defiantly.



"It's only for a few days. She's in no condition to be moved anywhere," Charles says as he gently stirs the soup.



Laying silent, Julie listens as the muffled voices continue to argue, no doubt fighting about her. The voices falling silent moments before she hears the soft creak of the door opening to her room. Opening her eyes still an effort as she blinks, slowly the hazy image comes into view. Her head still pounding she manages to force a smile as the figure nears the side of the bed.



"I... I heard voices," Julie manages to whisper. Placing the soup on the bedside table, Charles glances momentarily at her.



"Sorry," Charles apologizes, "That's Margaret. She means well." Resting his hand on her forehead he sighs. "I'm sorry love, I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Charles. Charles Newport. The woman you heard is my wife, and this," he says, waving his hand as he looks around the small room, " is Mark's room. He's our son. He's away..." his voice trailing as he averts his attention back to Julie. "And your name, Miss?"



"Julie," her voice barely a whisper as she struggles over the pain to answer.



"Well, Julie, it's nice to make your acquaintance. If you need anything just holler." Realizing his mistake, he quickly adds," Maybe I should get you a bell to put beside the bed. Sorry love, you must be in a lot of pain. Your car was pretty messed up when we found you, you're one lucky lady to be alive." Making out a hazy smile, Julie manages to smile weakly in return. "I'll let you rest, Julie. I'll come back and check on you later." With that Charles makes his way out of the room closing the door softly behind him.



"Sheriff. What brings you out this late?" Charles asks as he opens the door.



"We found a car down by Dead Man's Bend. There was no sign of the occupant, I'm just wondering if you've seen anybody wandering lost in the woods. There was a lot of blood inside the car so no doubt they'll be in need of medical attention."



Half closing the door behind him, Charles steps out onto the porch beside the Sheriff.



"Can't say I have, sorry Sheriff." Reaching behind him, Charles pulls the door closed. "If I see anyone I'll be sure to call you."



"Well the car is registered to a Julie Hargreaves. We're still waiting for a photo to come in from the Licensing Bureau, but in the mean time if you do see anyone..." Hearing the scratching coming from behind the closed door, the sheriff looks questioningly at Charles. "My God, that's Jet?"



"Yep," Charles says, grateful at the change of topic. "The old girl's going on fourteen years now. Starting to show her age but she still loves it when I take her out to the lake." Nodding, the sheriff makes his way to his car.



"Well anyway, I'd better check with the old Simpson property, see if they've seen anyone wandering." Gesturing his farewell as he tips his hat, the sheriff climbs into his squad car and reverses out the long gravel driveway. Watching until the car disappears from view, Charles makes his way back inside locking the door behind him.



Rousing from her sleep, Julie forces open her weary eyes. Seeing the retreating figure of a woman quickly leaving her room, she opens her mouth to call out, but the pain still thumping in her head making her voice a dull, husky whisper. With a heavy sigh she watches the door finally close, leaving her alone in the darkness. With no idea of time, Julie glances toward the curtained window. Her vision still hazy, but able to make out the drapes drawn tightly together with no chance of sun or moon light getting through to give her any indication of time.



Her stomach telling her body she's hungry, she glances to the small bedside table. The soup now replaced with a glass of milk and what looks to be some kind of casserole, Julie winces as she leans over reaching for the bowl. Pulling herself up against the pillow, she sits the bowl on her lap. Her head feeling light as she fights to steady the spoon as she raises it to her mouth.



"Oh, good to see you up," Charles says as he enters the room. His smile contagious as he sits in his usual spot on the bed, Julie manages a smile. "How did you sleep? You've been asleep most of the day."



"Good," she whispers, placing the bowl on the bedside table, a moan escaping her lips as she lays back against the pillow.



"Still having the headaches?" he asks placing the back of his hand against her forehead. Nodding, Julie closes her eyes against his touch. "I'll get you something for them. It'll help you sleep too." Smiling gratefully she leans back on the bed as he leaves the room.



"Here, take these Julie. They'll make you feel better," Charles says as he returns, handing her two shiny red pills.



"Thanks," she smiles, taking the pills and a glass of water from him.



"You get some rest love," he says, raising himself from the bed, "I'll check on you in the morning."



Closing the door behind him, she lays down hoping the pills have a rapid effect, her head aching as she closes her eyes against the darkness of the room.

Her eyes open wide, the room in total darkness, feeling the body pressing heavily over hers she pulls at her arms. Her hands bound to the bed head, leaving her unable to move. Her screams muffled against the ball of what ever had been shoved into her mouth. Fighting with all her might against the hands on the back of her knees, forcing her legs apart. As the material of her panties tears from her body, Julie feels the tears falling down the sides of her face, her struggles futile against the strength of him.



"Get the bitch," she hears from the darkness, the woman's voice vehement. Her mouth open wide in horror as she recognizes the voice as Margaret's. A new strength coursing through as Julie thrusts her hips hard against her attacker's, her legs flailing hopelessly, trying to do anything to get him off her.



"So you like it rough?" asks the young man's sinister voice. Through the darkness she could feel his sneer.



Her mind racing as the realization of what is happening to her dawns. 'It has to be Mark.' The hands gripping her legs tight, the rough fingernails cutting into her flesh as with no warning his cock forces its way inside her. Her muscles dry, the pain of his cock tearing her muscles apart almost too much to bare. Her screams coming as a hoarse muffled whisper as she clamps her legs tight around his hips, trying to stop the onslaught of his vicious thrusts. Her body screaming 'NO' as her body deceives her thoughts. The tears rolling down her face as she feels herself lubricate as his relentless assault continues unabated.



His hips forcing his length inside her, bruising against her pelvis as he digs his fingers tighter into the back of her knees driving his cock hard and furious. Closing her eyes against the pain, silently praying for the torment to end, Julie clenches her teeth around the gag filling her mouth. His balls constantly slapping against the cheeks of her ass as his shaft pounds inside her, inhaling sharply as it bashes hard against her cervix.



The menacing laugh of Margaret echos through the small room leaving goose bumps surfacing on Julie's pale skin. Mark's relentless abuse of her body leaving her drained, her resistance waining as his grunts intensify. With one offending thrust of his hips, she feels his member swell as he spills his seed deep inside, his breath now coming in ragged gasps. Withdrawing, then shoving himself deep as his cock spews the rest of his poison, Julie closes her eyes fighting the hatred and nausea.



Feeling his body slump heavily onto hers, Julie bucks her hips hard against his in a final attempt to push him from her. Her efforts only driving his cock deeper, his laugh haunting against the darkness.



"The bitch likes it, Mother," Mark sneers. A new wave of tears well in her eyes as she feels his cock twitch inside her.



"Do it to her again!" Margaret's voice threatening, sounding dangerously close as Julie waits for the next wave of abuse on her already bruised and aching body.



His cock moving in slow, languid thrusts, with each movement Julie can feel him regaining his erection. His hands move roughly over her breasts, pinching her nipples hard through the sheer fabric of her blouse. With a lightening speed, Mark grips the fabric, pulling the shirt open, the sound of buttons hitting the bare wooden floors almost deafening as a new fear surfaces within Julie. The rough, dry hands groping her breast as he picks up the pace of his callous thrusts. Wincing against the pain of his punishing cock she sobs silently, hoping he finishes quickly.



His hand moves between her legs, taking his cock in his hands he slides from her swollen lips and moves the slick head of his shaft over the puckered entrance to her anus.



"No!" Julie screams, the gag almost choking her as panic surfaces. Lashing her hips desperately, pulling herself away from his seeking cock. With a vicious slap across her cheek, Mark digs his fingers deep into the back of her knee, pulling her body down to his. With a brutal indifference he forces his cock past the tight resistance of her sphincter, piercing her virginal ass ignoring her agonizing screams.



His cock filling her canal, mercilessly thrusting hard inside, withdrawing most of his length before thrashing his hips hard against hers impaling her ass with his shaft. The fire burning inside her rectum feeling like her insides are being torn as the rape continues, her mouth open in a silent scream as she tries to pull her hips away. The tightness of her ass sucking around his cock, only driving him deeper, his hips thrashing against hers in a frenzy.



His fingers feeling like they're trying to squeeze the blood from her nipple, Julie's body tenses from both the fear and pain of the attack. His thrusts exacerbating as his orgasm nears, his balls burying themselves against her cheeks as the sperm builds, the pressure rising up his shaft. With a deafening grunt his cock swells, stretching her muscles wider as he pumps his seed deep inside her anal canal.



Almost as fast as it started, her ordeal is over. Her body burning from the assault, unable to move with the restraints still holding her wrists tight, Julie cries against the pillow. The pounding in her head now feeling like a dull ache compared to the seering, stinging pain of her bowel and bruised pelvis. Unsure exactly how long she layed there, she finally feels sleep envelop her.

The sun streaming in from the open window hurting her eyes as she wakes from her slumber, Julie moans feeling the aching of her body as she struggles to raise herself.



"Good morning," Charles smiles cheerily, resting a breakfast tray on the bedside table. "Sorry to wake you, but it's going to be such a nice day, just seems a waste to spend it in a room full of darkness."



Rubbing the red bruises on her wrists, Julie looks up accusingly at Charles. His happy disposition not making sense after the horrific assault that occured only hours earlier.



"How's the head this morning?" he asks, his mood unfaultering and jovial.



"Wh... where the hell were you last night?" her words coming out through clenched teeth, not believing for a moment that he hadn't heard her screams.



"I took Jet into town," he says, a look of confusion crossing his face as he eyes his houseguest. "Sorry love, but you were fast asleep when I left, I didn't want to disturb you. I thought you'd sleep right through after taking the pills."



"Yeah, well I didn't!" Julie spat. "That sick fuck Mark raped me!" Her eyes like daggers as she glares up at him. "And Margaret? She was here too, telling him to do it again!" The heat in her face unavoidable as a fiery anger builds inside her. Charles' face turning an ashen shade of gray as he carefully avoids her gaze.



"I'm so sorry, Julie," he stammers. "I don't know what to say." Making his way to the door he turns back to face her, "It won't happen again."



Sitting flabbergasted, Julie watches as he closes the door, locking it behind him. A new fury surfacing as her mind races, desperately planning a way of escape. Ignoring the aches of her body she climbs out of bed, steadying herself as she stands holding the bed for support. Moving the curtain aside, careful incase anyone is outside, she peers out. Seeing the coast is clear she checks the window, only to discover it nailed shut. Her heart pounding as she hears the sounds of footsteps outside her door, she quickly climbs back into the bed as quietly as she can.



Hearing the steps falter outside the door, Julie sits motionless, holding her breath as she strains to hear any sounds. The hum of a car making its way over what sounds like gravel suddenly fills the silence, sounding like it stops right outside her window. Julie lets out a relieved sigh as she listens to the sound of footsteps retreating from the doorway. Straining to hear she sits silent, hear heart beating loudly in her ears making it hard for her to make out the muffled voices coming from outside.



"Hey, Sheriff," Charles smiles, extending a friendly hand. "Any news of that missing girl yet?"



"Not yet," the sheriff says, taking the hand and shaking it with a firm grip. "Just got the photo sent of the missing woman. Seems her husband has been searching frantically for her."



"I hope they find her soon then," Charles says, taking a nervous glance toward the side of the house.



"Here's a recent photo of her, Charles," the sheriff says, holding a paper out for him. "She may be dazed and disoriented, so keep your eyes open."



"Will do," Charles nods as the sheriff makes his way to his car.

Taking a nervous breath, Julie sneaks out of bed and peers out the window. Seeing Charles talking to the Sheriff her heart skips a beat. Not caring anymore who hears her, she screams at the top of her lungs to attract his attention.



"Help!" she screams. Bashing on the window she sees the sheriff look up from over his car. Waving frantically, her jubilation sending tears streaming down her cheeks.



"What the...?" Pulling his gun from its holster, the Sheriff aims it at Charles. "Arms in the air! Now!" he orders, keeping the gun aimed, arms out straight in front., he keeps his eyes fixated on Charles. Reaching inside his car he grabs his radio mic. "Jacobs? I'm at the Newport property. Get a car and an ambulance out here now! I've found the missing Hargreaves woman, see if you can get in touch with her husband too."



Marching Charles inside the cabin, his gun aimed cautiously at him, the Sheriff makes his way to the locked bedroom door.



"Mrs. Hargreaves, this is the Sheriff. Stand away from the door." With an almighty kick, the door is flung open. Falling into his protective arms, Julie sobs against his shoulder.



"Oh, thank God!" she cries. A look of sheer terror crossing her face as she looks over the Sheriff's shoulder. Following her gaze he spins around.



The shotgun aimed at the pair, Charles stands his face emotionless. The wig placed askew as he casually cocks the gun.



"You shouldn't have come here, Sheriff," Margaret's voice rings out. "She's nothin' but a tramp."



"Put down the gun, Charles," the Sheriff cautions, slowly lowering his own weapon to the floor. "Nobody is going to get hurt Charles, just put down the gun."



"Do I look like that wimpy little coward?" Margaret voice shouts mockingly, a look of utter disgust crossing Charles' face. "I'm Margaret!" he hisses.



"Margaret has been dead for years, Charles." The Sheriff edges warily closer, now mere inches from the end of the shot gun. "She died with Mark when the old factory exploded."



"Liar!" Raising the gun, Charles cocks, ready to fire.



"It's okay, Charles," the Sheriff says soothingly. "We'll get you help. Just put the gun down." With his hands held out in front, his palms flat facing Charles he inches his way closer.



Waving the gun menacingly in his face, Margaret sneers.



"You think you're so smart, don't you? Mark and I didn't die in that fire." Without warning Charles pulls the trigger, the Sheriff falling heavily at Julie's feet.



The screams resounding, deafening inside the confinements of the room, Julie falls to her knees sobbing.



"No!" she screams, looking up with tear stained eyes at Charles/Margaret. Staring down, leering at her, Charles laughs that same haunting laugh that sends shivers racing up Julie's spine. The memory of that night sending another wave of tears stinging her eyes. Looking up into the barrel of his gun, she sobs, not caring anymore if she lives or dies.



"This one's for you bitch," Charles says as he cocks the gun. Closing her eyes tight, Julie clenches her teeth as the earsplitting sound of a gun firing stings her ears. Hearing the thud of something hitting against the door, she slowly opens her eyes. Charles' body lays slumped against the door, a smear of blood staining the paint from where he had slid. The deputy sheriff moves into view, his gun still aimed at the slumped figure.



"Julie, are you okay?" Not waiting another second she gets to her feet, almost stumbling as she runs from the room. An ambulance officer grabs her and holds her close, rocking her gently as the tears spill Smoothing her hair softly, he wraps a blanket over her shoulders and leads her outside.



Sitting alone in his room, Charles sits silently. His arms restrained tight inside the confinements of the white jacket, the sleeves overlapping his body, meeting as they buckle snugly behind his back. Looking up through the small square window, he sees the Doctor peering momentarily at him before entering.



"Good morning, Charles," the psychiatrist says, taking a seat opposite him as he rests his notepad on the small table separating the pair.



"Good morning, Doctor Evans."



"Good morning, Margaret," picking up his pen and pad, he waits for Margaret to surface. With a leer Charles face contorts to that of his dead wife's.



"Hmmph," Margaret snorts.



"Is Mark here today?" the psychiatrist asks, casually scribbling in his pad as he waits for the boy to answer.



"Don't answer him, Mark!" Margaret's voice snarls.



"It's okay, Mother," Mark's voice says as Charles' face takes on a slightly softer expression. "Good morning, Doc."



Julie lays quietly in her husband's arms. The memory of her experience only surfacing when she hears that haunting laugh in her nightmares. Six months later, her life is gradually returning to normal. The soft knock on the door rousing the pair from their rested state. Pulling on her robe, she clambers from the bed and makes her way to the front of their modest house. Her mouth agape as she opens the door.



"Sheriff!" Throwing her arms warmly around his neck she kisses his cheek tenderly. His arm supported by a slim band running from behind his neck to his wrist. "How's the shoulder?"



"It's getting there," he smiles. Nodding as Mike makes his way up the hallway.



"Hey, Sheriff," Mike says, fastening the waist tie on his robe before extending his hand for a warm handshake. "Come in, I'll put on the kettle."



"Thanks." Making their way inside, Julie closes the door gently behind the trio as they make their way to the kitchen.



The psychiatrist lays in a pool of blood, the bloodied pen reflecting the light as the sounds of Margaret's laugh echo through the silent corridors...

He noticed her as he stood smoking between the cars and scanning the crowd, waiting for the train to leave the station. It was the hat that did it, a broad-brimmed, low-crowned black felt hat that cast her face in shadow. If it was supposed to be a disguise, it didn't work at all. The hat and black cloak only set off the mass of golden blonde curls that fell to her shoulders and positively glowed in the grimy light of the station.



There was a girl with her, shorter, younger, and apparently human, to judge from the pink glow of her complexion. He hadn't known she'd have a companion, but it didn't surprise him. Women of her kind often picked up hangers-on, young people mostly, fascinated by the romantic legends and the promise of eternal life. No doubt they were sexually engaged. The girl might even have begun her transformation.



He watched them board a coach three cars down, then threw his cigarette onto the track just as the conductor gave his last call and hopped onto the train, pulling the boarding steps up after him. The engine whistled three times and then the big wheels started to turn. Door slammed and locked the length of the train and the car lurched heavily under his feet as they started to move. They were under way, and the for the next fourteen hours the train would be their own little hermetically sealed prison, traveling through the world but not of it.



He walked back to his compartment now, squeezing past the other passengers, smiling politely and begging their pardon, but his eyes couldn't help but scan them up and down as they passed, looking for that supernatural perfection that meant they might not be what they seemed. He couldn't help it; it came automatically to him now, after so many years, and he was sick of it. This would be his last hunt. When this one was over, no more. He'd have to find something else to fill his time.



Once in his compartment he locked the door and fell into his seat, sitting backwards so he could see where he'd been rather than where he were going. The combination of melancholy and excitement inherent in the beginning of a journey was familiar to him, but sharper this time as the train left the outskirts of the city and entered the autumnal countryside. The sun was just dipping behind the clouds on the horizon, lighting the tops of the poplars with reddish gold as the train rushed past, fading as watched and leaving the purplish glow of October twilight.



As was his habit, he chose to eat an early dinner in order to avoid the crowds and be finished by the time darkness settled in, so he washed in his little sink, dried his face and hands and straightened his tie, then made his way to the dining car.



It was quite empty, the white tablecloths and silver cutlery looking quite handsome against the indigo blue of the autumn dusk; empty except for the blonde woman and her companion seated at the far end.



He made no show of alarm, but took a seat at a table on the near end, and looked innocently out the window. The waiter brought him a menu, and he pretended to study it as he looked over the top and watched the women.



The blonde was without her hat and sitting with her back to him; the girl across from her so he could see her face. It was a pretty face, young and fresh and framed by caramel-colored hair cut in a bob. Whereas the blonde was still dressed in black, the girl was in white, a curiously antique gown as far as he could tell, and hardly suited to train travel.



The girl raised her eyes over her menu, looked directly at him and smiled-a warm smile, one of invitation.



He quickly hid behind his menu and then the waiter was there, and he busied himself with ordering, a complicated process, it turned out, as the kitchen was not yet up to speed at this early hour and not everything was available. By the time he'd settled for the roast beef, rare, the blonde was gone and the girl was walking towards him, her smile tinged now with social awkwardness. He composed himself. These were strangers, he told himself. He didn't know them



"Excuse me," she said softly. "I don't want to disturb you..."



He looked up into her green eyes. She had a cat's face, the similarity charmingly disrupted by a rather full and sensuous mouth, her lips a glistening pink. The black velvet choker around her neck picked up the black accents on her gown, and added to the similarity, like a pet's collar.



"No, that's quite all right."



The girl looked uneasily down the length of the empty car. "It just seemed silly for there to be only two of us in the whole car, sitting at opposite ends like we had the plague. I wonder if it would alright if I...?"



"Joined me? Certainly. By all means," he lied. "Really. I was thinking the same thing, but I didn't want to disturb you and your friend." He looked down the length of the car and pretended to notice that the woman in black had vanished. "Oh- She's gone?"



"Who? Marissa? Yes. She wasn't hungry and went back to our compartment. I hope you don't think I'm being too forward?"



He smiled dismissively. "No, really. I'm happy for the company. Here, sit." He got up and gallantly held her chair for her. "I've just ordered. Let me get you a drink. Sherry? An aperitif?"



"Thank you. My name is Sarah Blaine. A glass of wine would be lovely, thank you."



"Ted Gregory," he said. "I'm delighted to meet you."



He reached over the snow-white tablecloth and shook her hand. Her handshake was firm and refreshingly confident, and her eyes met his in a way that was just this side of bold. She was a bit of a seductress, he decided, which might make things conside4rably easier.



Having just cleared off the other place setting, the waiter now returned with it and handed Sarah another menu, and Ted used the opportunity to order them a bottle of wine. She didn't object. When she ordered the fish, Ted apologized and offered to exchange their red wine for white, but she wouldn't hear of it.



The waiter left, and Sarah looked out the window at the shadowy landscape rushing by. The sun had completely disappeared and the first stars were gleaming coldly in the west.



She was a very attractive young woman and obviously well bred, not the kind of person he associated with creatures like Marissa. Her dress interested him. It was white, strange enough for this time of the year, and of some satiny material, either quite old or cut to look that way, with a rather low, straight neckline. She obviously wore a corset or other foundation garment that compressed her breasts and presented them most invitingly in a way that kept claiming his attention. The peaks of her young nipples were visible where the fabric stretched tight over them-a tart's trick, and one that was most effective. He found himself considerably aroused.



She turned back from the window to find him staring, and she smiled.



"Forgive me, " he said. "That's an unusual dress."



"Isn't it?" She smiled at him, as if she knew some joke. "It's appropriate though, don't you think?"



He raised his eyebrows in confusion.



"Halloween?" she asked, waiting for him to catch on. "Today's the thirty-first? All Hallow's Eve?"



"Oh! Of course! You mean you're traveling in costume?"



She shrugged. "Why not? It seemed like fun. Marissa and I are going south for the winter. She goes down every winter, but it's my first time."



"Traveling in costume! How ingenious. That must be fun." He raised his glass to her. "Well, here's to a good trip, Sarah."



She raised her glass with a smile and touched it to his. "To a good trip. And new friends."



She closed her eyes when she drank and her lashes were long and delicate. The sight of her parted lips on the glass awaiting the taste of the wine was stirring



"And you?" she asked. "Is this trip business or pleasure?"



"Oh, business, I'm afraid."



"And you're alone?" She asked it without a trace of embarrassment or hesitancy



He laughed. "Alone. Quite alone. So I'm grateful for your company."



She smiled at him and then very casually said, "Marissa and I are lovers, you know." She looked at him. "Do you find that shocking?"



He laughed a bit uneasily. "Would you like me to?"



"Most people do. But then, I don't care for what most people think, do you?"



They both swayed as the train clattered over a switch. "I find very little shocking in this day and age, I'm afraid. It's a very wide world."



She looked at him approvingly. "Yes it is. And all sorts of things go on in it. I do miss a man's company, though, so you mustn't think I'm one of [I]those[/I] women, the kind that only likes other women. Marissa's the same way. She likes men too, I mean, though she's too stubborn to admit it. Have you seen her? The woman I'm with?"



Ted filled her glass again, using the pause to think. It was fairly obvious the way these two worked now, and he suspected he knew where this was going. Sarah was the bait, fully human and very attractive. She was very good at what she did.



"Yes. The lady in black?" He tried to sound innocent. "Yes. She's hard to miss. Forgive my frankness, but she's quite a beautiful woman. You two make a very striking couple."



"Thank you," Sarah smiled and raised her glass in a little mock toast to his perceptiveness, then leaned forward conspiratorially. "And my, can she fuck!"



She tossed the wine back, obviously enjoying his discomfiture, and this time he couldn't hide his surprise. He stared at her a moment, speechless.



There was a brief jolt as the train left the tangle of switches and gathered speed on the mainline again. Ted poured them more wine to hide his consternation and Sarah turned again to the window, her satisfaction with the way this game was proceeding obvious in her little smile.



"An overnight train!" she sighed, her last statement forgotten. "Is there anything more romantic? Isn't it breathtaking?"



He admitted that it was. It was night now and totally dark, and the countryside was invisible beyond the reach of the lighted windows of the car. Occasionally a village or town swept by, or the bell of a crossing sounded a mournful doppler, but as far as he could tell they were well into the woods now, an even darker dark beneath the starry sky. The wheel clicked reassuringly on the track



The waiter brought their food: roast beef for him, poached fish for her. Sarah put her napkin in her lap and gazed longingly at his meal for a moment.



"I'm sorry," he said. "You're not happy with your fish? Would you like some of my beef?" It was a terribly bold thing to suggest, but he hardly expected it would be remarked by a girl who was so at ease with four-letter words.



"Oh, no, no." She shook her head and picked up her knife and fork. "Marissa just keeps close watch on me. She won't let me have red meat except on very rare occasions. It's the one thing I miss. That and men, of course."



The food gave him time to think. His original plan had been to find them in their compartment during the day and take care of things then and there. That was the way he'd always operated, and a vampire in his coffin was a pitiful thing, hardly more than a hollow husk, and easily dispatched. But these two were involved in some seductive game that fascinated him.



Sarah was entirely human as far as he could tell, one of those sad, misguided souls who were attracted to what they saw as the romance of the vampire. Marissa herself couldn't be very old as far as vampires went. She was still far too human, without that dry, insect-like vacuity that came to all vampires with age, to the point where they lost all capacity for feeling or emotion and became the dry, lifeless husks that existed for nothing but to feed. These were the ones he usually dealt with: easy to loathe, a pleasure to kill.



But this was intriguing. Sarah was young, beautiful, and seductive, and he was drawn to her. He had gone too long without any real human contact. That he should now find it with the companion of a vampire was an irony that wasn't lost on him. When she openly suggested that they meet after dinner in the privacy of his compartment, looking directly into his eyes and subtly licking the rim of her glass, he wasn't surprised.



He met her gaze, but inwardly he was trembling. "You're joking," he said, pretending to be shocked. He hated to disappoint her.



She smiled at him, a smile more overtly sexual than any he'd received so far. "No, Ted. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression of me, but in this case, why not? We're both adults. We know what we want, and attractive, liberal-minded men such as yourself are in such short supply. Why shouldn't we?"



He felt the thrill of danger and the lure of attraction in equal measures. "I can't think of a single reason."



Sarah smiled and returned to her meal, and the conversation drifted on to other, more innocent things, but all the while Ted's mind was racing over plans and stratagems. He was surprised to find that he wanted her, wanted her badly. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in months.



The meal over, Sarah sat back with a contented sigh and finished her wine. "There is one thing I should mention," she said. "I have to clear it with Marissa first, but I know she won't mind. She might even want to join us, or at least watch. Is that all right?"



He'd expected that and he smiled. "You are a strange couple, aren't you?"



"Yes," she said, pleased to be scandalizing him. She leaned forward to give him a good view of the deep cleavage between her ripe young breasts. "I told you. We're not like those other women. Then you've no objections?"



"No," he said, though this complicated matters.



"Good, then I'll just- Oh, no need. Here's Marissa now. Perfect timing."



He turned just in time to catch the swirl of black as the other woman approached their table. From a distance, she had appeared rather severe, an effect no doubt enhanced by the round blue lenses that covered her eyes, but now, gazing down at the remains of their meal and the empty bottle, her face was open and friendly. She was smiling, and she was devastatingly beautiful-her face pure and angelic.



"Well, how was the meal, Sarah? Fish was it?"



Ted stood, rather too quickly. The train lurched and he almost lost his balance, causing the women to laugh.



"Marissa, this is Ted- Gregory, was it? Yes. Ted Gregory, and Ted, this is Marissa Boros, my teacher and lover."



He smiled, trying to keep his composure while acting suitably shocked at Sarah's words.



Marissa took his hand. Hers was cool and smooth. He detected nothing of the mature vampire's leathery strength.



"Forgive me the dark glasses, Mr. Gregory. A touch of conjunctivitis, I'm afraid."



"Oh, I'm so sorry. But think nothing of it. Sarah's been telling me all about you. Please, sit. Should I order another bottle? Would you like something to eat?"



Marissa smiled and gestured for him to sit as she took a chair. "Thank you, no. I'm on a rather strict fast." She settled into her chair and resumed the conversation. "So she's been talking about me? Naughty girl. She loves to talk, this one. All lies, no doubt. Just what did she say?"



Before Ted could answer, Sarah chimed in. "I was just telling Ted I wanted to take him to bed. Would that be all right?"



Marissa didn't bat an eye. She studied Ted out of the sides of her glasses. "She's an excitable girl, but we're really quite open with our sexuality. I hope she didn't embarrass you?"



Ted shook his head vigorously and Marissa smiled. She turned to Sarah. "I think it would depend on how Mr. Gregory feels about it."



"Ted, please." He corrected. "As for me, yes, it would be fine. It would be more than fine. Wonderful is more like it! And may I add how terribly refreshing it is to find two such fetching women who take such a sensible and refreshing view of such matters."



They laughed again, companionably. The waiter came by and slid the check to Ted. The car was starting to fill up with regular diners now, and the waiter, unusually solicitous, asked Marissa once more if she was sure she wouldn't dine, but again she begged off.



Ted took the opportunity to study her. She was more mature and womanly than Sarah, but that was more a matter of temperament than one of years, and her sense of sophistication was all the more attractive for being set off by a face that was both girlish and classically beautiful, with fine, regular features and a strikingly clear complexion, although unusually pale. And there was something else-a haunting sadness, some hidden sorrow he had never heard of in one of her kind, usually devoid of any emotion.



She was a shape-shifter of course, and could appear as whatever she liked, but even so the form she chose to show the world said much about her inner nature. Marissa chose to present herself as a woman of almost ethereal beauty, of a kind that nearly transcended the sexual. It was terribly clever, to hide such evil behind such an angelic face.



He looked at her nails and saw that the moons didn't show, the beds were white, and it struck him that she was starving. He'd seen it before in vampires deprived of food. She should be feeding well on Sarah's blood-he assumed that was what the girl's choker was for, to hide the marks-but for some reason she was not availing herself of the blood available, but intentionally starving herself. That would explain the slow grace with which she moved as well. She was weak, even dying perhaps. Strangely he felt his heart going out to her.



"Sarah tell me you're her teacher," he said, once the waiter had left.



"Oh yes," Marissa said proudly. "I've taught her almost everything she knows. She's a very good student, too. Shall I show you?"



Without awaiting an answer, she plucked a grape from Sarah's plate. "Sarah?" she asked, as one speaks to a pet about to perform a clever trick. "Open," and when the girl opened her mouth, Marissa placed the grape on her tongue.



"Watch," Marissa said. "She has a truly exquisite mouth."



Sarah sat with eyes closed, her mouth working behind her closed lips. In a moment she opened her mouth and extended her tongue, and there sat the grape, glistening and gelid, neatly and completely peeled.



"Wonderful, isn't she? Can you imagine what else that mouth can do?" Marissa took the grape in her fingers and showed it to him. Her nails were long and exquisitely manicured, but still, there was that paleness beneath then.



"You can have her," Marissa said, "But only if I can watch."



He looked at Sarah, but now that Marissa had joined them, she was silent, her eyes on the tablecloth in front of her, a child in the presence of her elders.



He cleared his throat uneasily. "You want to watch?"



He could see the glitter of her eyes even behind her glasses. "If you're good, I might join in. And you look like you'll be rather good. Is that satisfactory?"



He nodded.



"Good. What's your compartment number?"



For a moment, he couldn't think. Marissa was terribly beautiful, more beautiful than he'd expected, even after he'd seen her board the train.



"Seventeen," he managed at last.



She stood up. "Very well. Give us some time to refresh ourselves, and we'll meet you there. Sarah? Up."



Ted stood up as Sarah rose and smiled demurely at him. It was all too bizarre, too perfect. His heart was thudding in his chest as he caught the scent of Marissa's perfume, wild and sensuous. He'd never known a vampire to wear scent.



"See you soon," Marissa said, and then she turned and walked back through the dining car, Sarah following in her wake without so much as a glance back.



Ted signed the check, his hands shaking. He left a generous tip, and then made his way quickly back to his compartment. He didn't have much time.



Once inside, he took down his black valise from the luggage rack, laid it on the old-fashioned bench seat, and opened the locks. He rummaged around inside, pushing aside the mirrors and crucifixes and vials of holy water till he found the stakes. The simple one made of Linden wood would do for Sarah if it came to that, but he didn't think it would. She wasn't one of them yet, and simple force would do for her. Still, why take chances? He took out the stake and held it under his arm.





Marissa was another story. He found the silver stake, the one he had smelted and poured in his own kitchen years ago but never had occasion to use. It wasn't very big, but it was anointed with holy water and consecrated to St. Giles and was the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. This would be the one to use. His prey was rare now; there was no need to save it. He took that one out and, just to be sure, he selected another stake made of hazel-wood as back up, thicker and more substantial.



The question now was where to hide them. The compartment had two bench seats that folded down into beds. He was sure that they'd sit against the forward wall so that when they looked out the window, they would see where they'd been and not where they were going. Vampires had an instinctive aversion to the future. It was one of the ways in which they differed from humans.



He stuffed the linden-wood stake down between the seat and the backrest, then pushed the other two down at end of the seat, between the cushion and the car wall. the silver one on top. On impulse, he selected a gold crucifix and put it around his neck. Religious symbols didn't have much effect anymore, especially on the younger vampires, but the cold weight of the metal against his chest was some reassurance.



He checked that he could reach the stakes without much trouble, then stood up again. He was taking a terrible chance. His victims had always been the aged, coffin-bound and defenseless, and Marissa, though weak, was still young and potentially dangerous. He'd heard the legends of the vampires' sexual prowess, but he knew it only existed in the young, before they grew dry and desiccated and all feeling left their bodies. It was terribly rash to put himself in harm's way like this,. but still, something drew him on. His hands shook with excitement.



The train roared past some night-darkened town, the crossing gate bell clanging with urgency as he checked to see that nothing was visible. The time to get them would be after the sex, or perhaps during. That's when they'd be the weakest. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.



He locked the valise and returned it to the luggage rack, smoothed his hair back and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't look nervous.



Or so he thought, for when he heard the soft knock and opened the door, he wasn't quite prepared for the two women who walked in. Marissa still wore her blue glasses and a black wool cape, but beneath it was something very tight and black and made of sturdy leather that covered her from toes to fingertips, adorned with laces and buckles and shiny silver fasteners, a kind of leather armor that no doubt protected her from the bites and scratches of struggling victims. The thought filled him with salacious excitement. Sarah on the other hand looked totally unprotected. She wore a long cloth coat and a black leather collar around her neck fastened with a tiny silver padlock. There was a leash attached, and Marissa held the other end casually in one hand, a leather riding crop in the other as she led the girl into the compartment.



"Happy Halloween," she joked.



"And to you too, I'm sure." He closed the door behind them and locked it.



Marissa waited till she had his attention, then turned around and gave a little tug on Sarah's leash. "Show," she said.



Sarah shrugged off the coat let it fall to the floor. She stood revealed in a gauzy white night dress, the traditional garb of the female vampire. Her magnificent breasts were plainly visible through the thin fabric, as was her slim waist and the luxurious swell of her hips. It was obvious that she wore nothing beneath the gown. She was freshly made up to devastating effect, looking both beautiful and dangerous, and very unlike the silly girl he'd just had dinner with.



The train roared through another crossing with a loud clattering as Marissa sat down on the bench seat by the window, facing backwards. She glanced at Ted. "Acceptable?"



His mouth was dry. "Yes. Quite," he said nervously.



"Good." She handed him leash.



He held it uncertainly as Sarah stood there, looking at him from beneath her lowered lashes. Marissa lounged on the seat, eyeing them both.



Ted laughed nervously. "I hardly know how to begin."



"Get the lights," Marissa said. "The dark is much more soothing."



He hit the switch and the compartment filled with darkness, save for the red exit signs. Marissa sighed and at last took off her glasses, shook her long blonde curls out and folded them and put them on the windowsill. As he'd expected, she had no sort of conjunctivitis. As far as he could see, her eyes were lovely-hypnotic in the dark.



"Sarah?" Marissa spoke as to a child. "Don't be rude. You know what to do."



The girl stepped up to Ted and put her arms around his neck. Her warm, firm breasts pillowed against his chest as she pulled his head down for a lingering kiss, filled with sexual urgency. Her mouth was sweet, and her body as warm as a long summer day. She was a wonderful kisser, her tongue teasing him shyly until he pursued, and then retreating in feminine modesty, her lips melting beseechingly against his as his masculine desire asserted itself. She knew just how to provoke, and then retreat so as to draw him in. There was nothing supernatural about the surge of desire he felt-hot, urgent, and full of blood.



Marissa smiled and tapped the end of her crop against her lower lip. "She warms up quickly, don't you find?"



"My God," he breathed, stepping away. His heart was pounding.



Sarah was breathing faster too, and her breasts rose and fell as she reached up and pulled down the bodice of her gown, letting them surge over the hem, round and ripe, the nipples already erect and reaching for him with urgency. He could sense Marissa smiling, but he couldn't resist as Sarah reached up and tenderly pulled his head down to her breast. He smelled her perfume, her girlish freshness and the milky warm scent of her skin, closed his eyes and felt the stiff yet velvety skin of her nipple against his lips. He sucked it inside and felt her shudder and heard her sudden sharp intake of breath. Instinctively, he sucked it deeper, an infant again with an infant's pleasures. Sarah rose up on her toes to give him access and whimpered, proud to be the source of his pleasure. She ran her fingers lightly through his hair, comforting him, clinging to the back of his neck for support.



Marissa tapped him on the leg with the crop. "Do you know how to use this?"



He looked at her in confusion, reluctant to let Sarah's breast out of his mouth, but Marissa held it out to him insistently.



"Go ahead. She loves it, the little whore. Watch."



Marissa used the crop to separate them, then, without even bothering to stand, she brought the end down smartly against the very nipple he'd just been sucking. Sarah gasped and brought her shoulders up protectively, but quickly recovered and forced her elbows back, presenting herself for another blow. She looked at Ted with fire in her eyes, inviting him to try his hand.



"I couldn't," he said helplessly.



"Not to your taste, [I[Ted[/I]?" Marissa mocked. "No matter. Here, sit down next to me. Sarah, on your knees."



Sarah pushed him gently, and despite her small size, he let himself be guided back onto the bench. The wheels clicked steadily over the track and the coach rocked as he sat down and Sarah came and leaned over him, her hands on his knees. He could see her big jugs hanging pendulously beneath her, swaying with the train's gentle motion.



Sarah got down on her knees and leaned forward, her hands on his thighs, put her mouth over the bulge in his trousers, and for a moment he got a glimpse of the animal she might be, predatory and hungry. She opened her mouth and closed her even white teeth gently on his stiff shaft, and he felt the hot steam of her breath through the fabric of his trousers.



He stared down at her, eyes bulging as her skilled fingers found the tab on his zipper and lowered it. She delicately opened the fly of his shorts and extracted his thick cock, gently, as if she were performing surgery, then let it spring up, hard and rampant and gleaming in the blood red light of the swaying coach. The tension in the car was as thick as the darkness, the occasional trackside light sweeping over them like the beam of a lighthouse.



"Do it," Marissa whispered. "Suck his prick."



Sarah ducked her head and touched her tongue to his balls, and Ted looked down to see that beautiful, girlish face half hidden by the shadow of his thick, menacing shaft. The contrast of her childlike beauty with the fleshy brutality of his meat made the blood pound in his veins, and he was filled with sudden thoughts of violence, rape and carnage. Sarah looked up at Marissa with slavish eagerness, and the blonde nodded her head. Sarah closed her eyes and opened her mouth and dropped her face into his lap. his cock sliding into the open gorge of her mouth..



"Oh Christ!" he wailed. She took it all, an impossible length. His stomach jerked with a sudden paroxysm of pleasure.



Her mouth was hot and deep and sweet, and she had the passively aggressive nature of the natural-born cock-sucker, deriving sensual pleasure from the feel of a man's heavy prick lying on her tongue, controlling him through her own urge to be penetrated. She pressed her face into his pubic hair, sucking him in, and he felt the head of his tool slide against the ridged roof of her mouth as her wet, velvety tongue caressing him from beneath. Deeper, deeper, and his glans bumped against the sticky tissue of her soft pallet. He felt her throat spasm and then open up around him, and a surge of pure sensory overload made him jerk in her mouth as his cock passed her epiglottis. His head snapped back against the seat as if he'd received an electric shock



Marissa smiled and pressed herself against his shoulder, her hand reaching out to squeeze the inside of his thigh. "Good, isn't she?"



Sarah lived up to her cat-like image now as she pounced on his prick and began bobbing her head over him, as if he were prey she would swallow. He was dimly aware that she'd gathered her dress up around her hips and was playing between her thighs, and the realization that she was masturbating only added fuel to his raging fire. These women would stop at nothing. They simply had no shame. There was no telling what they'd do for him.



"Oh fuck!" he moaned, the sound of the forbidden obscenity on his lips only heightening his excitement. His fingers dug into the soft cushion of the seat and he arched his back, pressing his head against the backrest, thrusting his hips into the sucking warmth of Sarah's young mouth. He felt Marissa shift beside him, and then seemingly overwhelmed by the salacious scene in front of her, her lips came down on his, and for the first time he felt the forbidden heat of the vampire's kiss.



Her lips were hard, all-consuming and as enveloping as the grave. Her kiss was hunger, and yet sweeter and more feminine than anything he'd ever felt, promising comfort and darkness. She held her hair out of the way and her tongue licked insidiously at his teeth, promising pleasures more obscene than he could possibly imagine if he just let her inside, and he couldn't refuse. The lips that had tasted blood now tasted his, and with the same greed and carnivorous hunger. Her long tongue was in his mouth and she breathed her breath into his throat, breath that was hot with female sexuality and a predatory neediness that enveloped his soul like a tight, wet, cunt.



"Oh!" he moaned into her mouth, "Oh God!" He hadn't expected this. He knew the legends, but he hadn't expected it from a kiss, and now, with his cock in Sarah's mouth and his throat being fucked by Marissa's tongue, he feared he might already be lost, drowning in a sweet sea of need.



The stakes! The stakes! He didn't dare reach over Marissa, so he pushed his hand down behind him, groveling between the cushions and searching for the smooth, hard wood of the stake, but all he found was Marissa's leather-clad hand already there, already holding the sharpened pole.



His blood ran cold.



Another train roared past, going the opposite way, the faces and windows a long meaningless smear of light, temporarily blinding and deafening. When the train passed, Marissa was holding the stake before his eyes.



"Really, Todor," she said. "I expected better from you. Ted Gregory? Do you really think we're so stupid?"



He searched frantically for a way out. Sarah had lifted her mouth from his prick and was looking at him curiously, obviously baffled.



"Sarah? Continue what you were doing," Marissa said. "I'd like to introduce you to Professor Doctor Todor Gyarmathy, vampire hunter, late of Krakow University and the University of Prague. I believe we were next on his list, weren't we, Doctor? A rather short list too, due to his efforts. He thinks he followed us onto this train to do away with us, Sarah. He doesn't know that he was lured here, that the hunter has become the prey. Well, I expect he knows now."



His pants were around his ankles and his cock in the maddening suction of the girl's mouth, but Ted tried to scramble up from the seat, only to be thrown back easily by Marissa's hand on his chest-that weirdly thrilling sensation of the vampire's inhuman strength, as if her muscles in her thin arms were made of steel cables. She might be sick, she might even be dying, but she was still dangerous. She threw the stake across the car, then reached down beside her and pulled out the other two.



"Real silver," she said approvingly. "I'm flattered."



She tossed them with the other and pressed him back into his seat with her one hand.



"I must say I'm surprised at you, Doctor. I had no idea you were so sexually vulnerable."



"You know who I am!"



"Of course I do, Todor. Do you think I'm one of those mindless mummies who sleep in a coffin all day? Do you think I can't read the papers and the penny press, that I don't know who my enemies are and where, and what they're doing?"



She removed her hand from his chest and sat back. " I heard about your fiancée, Professor, and I extend my most sincere condolences. You must have loved her very much. You know we had nothing to do with it, don't you? We don't work that way. Cancer, was it?"



The thought of virginal Magda shamed him-if she could see him now, what would she think? "Leukemia," he said. "But I'll thank you not to pollute her name by speaking it."



"My sympathy is genuine, Professor. I'm not yet without feelings. I remember what it is to lose someone."



Her sincerity shamed him again, and he looked away.



"You're a young and vigorous man, Professor," she said. "You must feel her loss deeply. Perhaps that's why you've become so careless, or foolish. Death doesn't seem to frighten you as much, does it? I daresay it even has some attraction for you. Is that why you invited us back to your car at night? A little roll in the hay with death?"



"You're not dead," he said. "You're worse than that."



The train roared by a trackside switch house, the white light from outside sweeping across the compartment, lighting up Sarah as she knelt between his legs and began sucking him again, losing interest in what was happening above her.



Easy, bitch," Marissa said to Sarah, slapping her lightly with the crop. "Just keep him idling." Then, turning again to Ted, she said, "I warn you, she can make you feel so good you'll snap your spine in pleasure, or she can bite it off at the root if I tell her to."



Satisfied, she sat back. "Worse than dead, am I?" She reached out and ran her hand over his chest, and he was forced to look into her eyes, deep and predatory. "And yet you came here looking to get fucked, knowing what we were. You wanted to fuck the vampires. That's playing with fire, isn't it, Todor? Rather dangerous? Just what is it you were looking for? Just a quick piece of ass?"



He groaned as Sarah took him deep, moaning in her throat as her head worked slowly over him.



Marissa stared down her nose at the girl. "Look at her. She comes from a good family, but she's so stupid she doesn't even know what she has. She wants to be like me, wants me to make her of my kind. And look how much pleasure she gets from this. How much pleasure you both get from this. The little cunt has no idea how lucky she is, how lucky you both are."



Todor groaned again. "What are you going to do to me?"



Marissa got up on her knees and faced him. She unbuttoned his shirt and threw it open, watching his eyes for his reaction.



"Don't worry," she said. "I'm not going to hurt you. Not tonight. Maybe never. That's not what I want. I've been watching you for years, Todor, watching you as you hunted down and killed my kind. I've been watching you and wanting you."



Her hand brushed against the gold crucifix and she smiled. "A little hypocritical, aren't we Ted? Or have you suddenly gotten religion?"



She closed her fist on the cross and ripped it easily from around his neck, threw it across the car and went back to rubbing her hand over the thick muscles of his chest as Sarah's warm, wet mouth continued to slide up and down his pole.



Marissa watched her for a while, admiring her slave's skill and the effect it had on him. She seemed to draw strength from the two humans' sexual pleasure, vicariously feeding on it, her excitement tinged with bitter envy



"Admit it," she said. "You must feel the same attraction for me, don't you, Todor? We're predator and prey you and I, locked in this together. But who's whom tonight? Can you tell me that?"



"What do you want from me?" he asked.



"What indeed?" she whispered. She breathed into his ear and the heat of her breath gave him chills. Her tongue came out and she licked him like a cat. "I don't want your blood tonight, Todor, though I'm sure it's delicious, rich and full of strength. I'm no longer interested in blood."



Her tongue dipped into his ear and he felt her shuddering breath. The even edges of her white teeth pressed teasingly into his ear lobe then released him. "I want your come. I want to feel your human cock inside me and the gush of your hot seed. I want you to fuck me."



He drew back instinctively, but something leaped inside him. The face that loomed above him was more beautiful than any face he had ever seen, and the fear he felt was overwhelmed by something dark and eager that rose from within.



She caressed his face with her gloved hand, examining him, then used her thumb to gently smooth his eyebrow like a concerned wife. She looked into his eyes-deep, deeper, deeper than anyone had ever gone, down into a place where he himself never went, and whatever it was she saw there seemed to please her.



She pulled back, satisfied. She held his eyes and whispered down to Sarah. "Suck him good now, bitch. Get him nice and hard for me!"



Sarah plunged back down on his cock and Ted groaned, his hips automatically thrusting up, reaching his prick back into her throat. Marissa threw her cape over her shoulders and pushed her hair back from her face, lowered her head and kissed him. She put one arm around his shoulders and slid the other hand inside his shirt to caress his nipples, and stifled his moaning with her lips, sucking him, nipping him, feeding on his hot breath.



"Yes," she murmured into his slack mouth. "Yes, that's what I want. Your passion, your desire. You don't know what it's like for us, do you? You think it's like in your books and the stories you hear, where we go where we will, fucking and sucking the blood of whomever we want. Well it's not like that for us, Todor. It's not like that at all.



"We live like rats, scurrying in the gutters, seeking out the weak, the old, the mentally imbalanced. When we fuck, we fuck a half-dead victim whose cock is limp and flaccid, whose life-force is all but spent. We fuck our food after we've eaten it, after it's garbage. Do you think that excites us? Do you think that gives us pleasure?"



Watching Sarah suck his cock, knowing the two of them were sharing human sexual pleasures no longer available to her made Marissa wild with jealous lust, and her hand went to the bodice of her cat suit where her breasts bulged behind the cleverly designed leather cups, cups that attached with silver snaps so that with a brief tug she was able to pull one free and expose her perfect breast. She dropped the useless piece of leather and pressed her ruby-red nipple to his lips.



"Show me, Todor!" she commanded. "Show me how you hate me. Bite it off if it pleases you!"



Todor moaned. Without conscious thought, he opened his mouth and sucked her nipple inside. It was warm and soft, but hardened rapidly in his mouth till it was as firm and turgid as any woman's. He could hear her heart, feel her heart beat in his lips-the vampire's heart. He knew she was a monster, but his body knew otherwise, and without thinking he bit down softly on it and Marissa hissed with pleasure.



"This our curse, did you know that? We vampires can't feel. We don't know pain, and so we can't feel pleasure. We don't feel fear, and so we don't know passion. No. We can't feel unless we're in danger, and that's why I sought you out, Todor, because you can make me afraid. You with your stakes and your silver and your silly crucifixes. Do you understand?"



She looked into his eyes, but all she saw there was the raw pleasure Sarah's sucking mouth was causing him. Again, jealousy and envy raged in her breast



"Enough!" she cried, and she lifted her foot, placed the spike-heeled boot against the kneeling girl's shoulder and pushed her away, knocking her on her rump. Sarah looked around in hazy confusion, her lips wet with saliva. For a moment her eyes flared with frustrated rage, but she quickly regained her composure.



"Little cunt!" Marissa spat. "That's enough! Get his pants off. If you knew anything, you'd know how good you had it now, being able to do this whenever you want. But you don't. You don't know anything. Get his pants and his jacket off him and get over in the corner and play with yourself like the whore you are. Bring me your fingers when they're full of your come, meanwhile, leave him to me."



Sarah crawled back to the seat and pulled his shoes and socks off, then tugged his pants and shorts down his legs as Todor sat there passively, sucking hungrily on Marissa's exposed breast, lost in some erotic spell he could no longer overcome. His cock was enormous, so hard it bent back on itself in a straining curve and pulsed with each beat of his heart.



He should escape now, while Sarah was pulling at his clothes. He should make his move, but he had no desire to get away. He was on fire with lust and sexual need.



Sarah pulled his jacket off, stripping it down his arms like he was a helpless child. She removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, but then Marissa gestured her away. The blonde got up on her knees next to him, reached between her thighs and unsnapped the black leather crotch piece, revealing the flushed pink lips of her sex beneath a cloud of golden-yellow pubic curls. She grabbed Todor's hand and pushed it up between her legs.



"They say vampires are cold, don't they, Todor? Tell me, what do you think?"



Her flesh was fiery hot and wet, very wet, slick with her arousal. Her labia were a deep, livid pink, the portals to another world, and he couldn't tear his eyes from her, from the lewd contrast between her pink sex and her alabaster skin, the shiny black of the tight leather corset. She threw her leg over him as if she were getting into a saddle, straddled him so that her sex was just above his straining cock. She leaned forward and licked his face like a dog.



"Put your fingers inside me, Todor," she said. She spread her knees and pressed his hand to her burning sex. "Touch me like you touch a real girl, one of the living."



Her hand went to the other cup of her suit and pulled it off so that both her breasts were exposed, as white and perfect as polished marble. The train sounded its whistle as they roared through yet another town, the car lights flickering as they clattered over a bank of switches. Marissa was poised above him, her hands on his shoulders, her pussy inches above the head of his cock, moisture dripping from her matted pubic hair as if she were salivating.



She leaned her forehead against his, her eyes staring into his. "I want you to fuck me now. I want you to put your cock into the grave, into the undead. Can you do it, Todor? Will you do it??"



He licked his dry lips. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sarah sitting with her knees up, both hands between her legs, watching them with predatory interest.



"Yes," he said.



"Then listen to me," She put her hands on the sides of his head and held him steady so she could look into his eyes, and spoke very low, so that Sarah wouldn't hear.



"I'm a virgin, Todor, a virgin. I was taken before I ever knew a man, and that hasn't changed. I have never forced myself upon my victims. I couldn't. How could I? A virgin? So I'm a virgin still. Do you understand?"



He looked at her and saw the hurt in her eyes, the vulnerability. It touched him. "Yes. I understand."



"I'm dying, Todor. I'm killing myself. I know what happens to us as we age, as we lose feeling and emotion and become nothing but feeding machines, sick, repulsive things, like leeches, like locusts, those things you kill in their coffins. I won't have that happen to me. I won't. I'll starve myself and die before that ever happens to me. But I have to know before I die. I have to know what it's like, what it's like to have a man inside me. Do you see? Do you understand?"



"Yes. What must I do?"



Marissa dropped her head, unable to look at him. She struggled to go on. "It can only be done by a mortal man, and he must want to do it. A mortal man, unchanged, and one whose blood I have never tasted, nor he mine. He must know me for what I am, and yet he must want me anyway."



She raised her head and looked at him, her eyes suddenly full of fear and uncertainty and very unlike a vampire's. "You have to want me, Todor," she whispered. "As a man wants a woman. You must know what I am and want me despite that, without hope of reward or fear of death. Can you do that, Todor? Do you understand?"



"Yes," he said.



She pulled her face back and looked at him. Her eyes were soft now, glowing with tears. "I can't thank you Todor. That would be a reward and that would ruin it. Do you understand that as well?"



"Yes."



She relaxed her grip on his head, and looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes. As she relaxed, the soft lips of her sex touched the head of his straining cock and she gasped in surprise.



"It will hurt," she whispered. "It's like a stake in the heart, so I've heard. It will hurt even more if I orgasm. It's like the rays of the sun on your insides, they say, but I want it. I want it all, Todor. Don't hate me if I scream?"



"No."



"Good. Now-"



Once again the lips of her heat touched the soft, oily head of his hungry cock, and though she was trying to go slow, her touch set him off and he punched up into her in a savage paroxysm, ripping into her as he felt her tear, impaling her on the hard rod of his meat just as the whistle shrieked again and the last house shot past and vanished into the roaring darkness. On the floor, Sarah whimpered, not understanding what was happening but wincing in sympathetic pain.



"Ahh! It hurts! It hurts!" Marissa gasped, arching her back as she felt his cock sink into the darkness of her belly. "Thank you, Todor! Thank you!"



His eyes were wide as he watched her blood seep around the base of his member. He saw her stomach tremble with repressed pain as she instinctively bore down on his invading cock, some vampiric reflex trying to eject his living flesh from her body, but to no avail. He could tell from the wild twitching that he was hurting her, but her face was a mask of stubborn, rapturous pleasure and triumph, almost more than he could bear to look at. Beneath that pain there was a terrible incandescent pleasure, and Marissa was determined to have it



He tore his eyes away and over to the corner where Sarah sat on the floor, her knees up and her gown pulled high, her big tits crowded together as she shoved both hands down into her crotch, two fingers into her pussy and the other pressed and revolving against her clit. Her eyes were locked with lust and naked envy on the sight of Todor's big log disappearing into Marissa's tight ring of muscle, and he realized that Marissa was right: Sarah was nothing but a little fool, willing to throw away the terrible joy of human sex. There was nothing like this feeling.



Marissa was fighting for control but it was a losing battle, and she couldn't hide the overwhelming pleasure she was feeling. She was too weak to hold him now, and all she could do was rest her forearms on his broad shoulders and tremble. The tight leather of her suit creaked as he began to fuck up into her, bringing the muscles of his thighs and belly into play, jarring her up off the seat as her breath hissed raggedly through her teeth.



Just as Marissa's strength seemed to fade, Todor's returned. His head cleared and the languid heaviness that had crippled his arms and legs began to disappear. He felt himself swell with strength: the power of raw lust and sexual conquest. He looked into her face and saw her eyes, no longer commanding but beseeching him, begging him for something that went beyond mere blood or the curse of eternal life.



"Fuck me," she whispered. "Do it to me, Todor! Take me!"



That was all he needed. He grabbed hold of her ass, and with a burst of male strength he picked her up, lifting them both off the seat, holding her up with his hands on her bottom and his big cock stuffed inside, and Marissa clung to him, almost weightless in his hands, a soft and clinging thing within her leather armor. He turned them around and put her lengthwise on the seat, never losing contact with her, and plunged back into her, deep into the yielding softness of her body.



"Fuck her!" Sarah snarled from the corner. "Fuck her hard!"



Marissa groaned-with pain or pleasure, he couldn't tell. He could feel the vampire fighting with the woman within, her dark instinct to fight him off battling with her urge to succumb to this sexual pleasure, a pleasure she'd never known. She reached for him as if to claw his face, but he grabbed her wrists and pushed them down, claiming her and taking control. Her passion made her weak. The touch of a human had made her weak, and he held her wrists easily. He lifted himself up from her, arching his back to thrust himself deeper into the hot clutch of her cunt.



He looked in her eyes, and Marissa looked back, and he saw it: the woman trapped in the vampire's body, trying to free herself, trying to reach him, pleading with him, like the eyes of a person underwater, trapped and drowning, clawing for the surface .



"Don't stop," she begged. "Don't stop."



"I'm hurting you."



"No, no!" she cried. "I want it, Todor!. You're going to make me come. I want it!"



"God, I don't know if I can!""



Marissa turned her face to Sarah. "Get up, slut," she barked. "Get the stake. The silver one. Give it to me. Hurry!"



Sarah scrambled over to the other seat and to do her mistress's bidding. Todor held himself rigid above Marissa's trembling body as Sarah handed her the silver stake. Marissa took it in a gloved hand, turned it around, and pressed the point right under her left breast, over her heart. In the red light, he could see the point denting her soft, pale skin. She grabbed his hand and put it on the end of the metal rod and covered it with her own.



"Now do it," she hissed at Todor. "Fuck me and make me come, and when I do, [I]do it![I]"



"Marissa..."



"The Magdeberg tunnel is just ahead. I can smell it. It will give me strength. Do it then, Todor! Make me come!"



"I can't," he said. "I can't."



She was gripping him inside, pulling on him, drawing on him like no living woman ever had, as if she needed him to live. He was close to losing it. Already he could feel the spasms in the big muscles of his legs and ass, his body getting ready to explode. Flames licked at him. Life insisted. Marissa reached around him, grabbed his ass in her gloved hand and pulled him into her, raising her knees, the heels of her boots digging into his flanks like a rider's spurs.



"Oh fuck!" he cried.



The train roared into the blackness of the tunnel, whistle shrieking. The exit signs went out, flickered and went out, leaving nothing but a thundering darkness and furious cacophony of noise. He could see nothing and no eyes to see it with anyhow as he felt her grip him inside with greedy insistence, deep spasms in her pussy trying to milk the come from his stubborn cock. He felt her scream of orgasmic release-felt it rather than heard it-felt it on his face as all sound was drowned by the howling whistle and roaring of the iron wheels one the iron track. He felt her lithe body jerk up towards him as his own orgasm began-deep, strong jets of living seed blasted into the darkness of her body as Marissa howled and clung to him. Her hand left his and he dropped the stake, overwhelmed by his own gushing release.



"Don't look at me! Don't look at me!" she screamed, but he couldn't help it, and in the flashes of light from the sparking wheels he saw he in all her vampiric glory, her teeth extended into fangs, her eyes on fire, helpless and lost in her blazing orgasm



He reached beneath her and grabbed her and crushed her against him, holding her with all his strength as he continued to shoot his seed into her, more than he ever imagined he possessed. He shot it into her, into the fantastic creature, this dying vampire, and looked and saw her impaled on his spurting cock, her body arched in a rictus of paralyzing pleasure, her mouth open, teeth extended into the fangs of her kind.



"No!" she cried, "Don't, Todor!"



But he didn't listen. With a strangled cry he grabbed her hair and turned his head to the side, then brought his exposed throat down on the twin spikes of her teeth He heard her sob and felt the hot gush of his blood spurt into her famished mouth, almost choking her in its bounty. She enclosed him fiercely in her arms and legs and began instinctively to drink, sobbing as his blood poured into her mouth, and Todor felt a pleasure like he'd never known: dark, black, and deeply orgasmic. And then the darkness enveloped him.



He awoke as dawn was just streaking the sky. The ground racing past the window was covered in white sand and lonely grasses-they were near the sea. He was asleep between clean sheets in the pull-down bed in his coach, Sarah asleep next to him, looking very young and pink and innocent. Marissa, fully dressed and wearing her wool cape, stood looking down at him. She looked well and strong and terribly beautiful, glowing with a kind of inner light she'd never had before. She held her finger to her lips to signal silence.



"Where are we?" he asked. "How did I get in bed."



"Coming in to Sur-le-Mar," she said. "I put you into bed. You were very tired. Exhausted."



He sat up on one elbow and looked about. His neck was very sore and he felt rather weak. Marissa's strength was obviously back. More than that, she was smiling, a dark, secret smile that made her look even more beautiful.



He glanced over at Sarah. "What shall I do with her."



"Send her back to her parents," Marissa said. "She's only a silly child. I never touched her."



"And you? Will I see you again?"



She sat down on the bed and ran her hand over his chest..



"Yes, Todor. Not now. Not in the daytime, not yet. But yes. I left you my address. Come see me tonight?"



"Yes," he said. "Yes."



He opened his mouth to say more but she put her fingers over his lips.



"You saved me, Todor. In more ways than you know. I'm alive again."



She stood up and opened the window and the compartment was filled with rushing air and the smell of cold sand and the sea, fresh and clean.



"And now, farewell. Tonight then."



She grabbed the sill and before he could speak she launched herself out the window and into the rushing dawn. Todor scrambled from the bed and stuck his head out, looking for her. He saw a winged shape, dark and formless like a piece of cloth in the wind, black against the gray of the sand. It kept close to the earth as the train rushed away, and then he lost sight of it altogether.



He stood at the window a long time, his heart filled with a strange longing, until the train began to slow and the outskirts of town showed bright in the rising sun.



The scene was beautiful, but the light hurt his eyes. He found Marissa's blue glasses on the sill where she'd left them, and he put them on.



That was better.

14 minutes and 32 seconds. That's how long it took for me to die.



Death was not an option for me. I was set up. I know the amount of time it took me to die because I could only lie there and stare at my watch as the blood pooled around my body. I could hear the voices around me waiting for me to die. That rat bastard Dunston wanted to buy me out, now he has the business. I hope it fails.



Dunston was my partner in a small real estate company, which was on it way up. I had worked my ass off to get lucrative clients while he dabbled in fixer-uppers. I had mentioned once that I wanted to move on to something else and he must have taken it too literally.



For the most part Dunston was a schmoozer with weasel tendencies. I became partners with him because he had the capitol needed to get us up and running. We studied business together, thankfully we never dated but we did somehow maintain a friendship. Dunston didn't have many or any friends that I knew of; he was for sake of a better word, different. You could even say he was dark.



So now I lay there on the fringes of continuation only able to watch in my ethereal form. Ethereal, I never knew what it really meant until I joined the ranks. It's really not so bad now, you get used to it after a while. I don't see that white light you hear about. It's pretty much the same as when I was still alive, except the coffee doesn't stay down as well.



I would have to say that the most difficult part of being dead is not being able to interact with others. I should clarify: others, the ones that can still breathe. My fellow apparitions are easy to see and converse with but most are tormented spirits. They ruin the party.



I'm not quite sure if this is heaven or hell or if I'm trapped between dimensional planes, they don't give you a handbook. It's more of a "learn as you go" kind of thing. I've learned that yelling at the living doesn't work, they can't hear you or won't hear you, and I'm not quite sure which it is yet. I've learned to move objects. At first it was a desperate attempt to communicate now it's just for something fun to do. People don't believe in ghosts and I really can't blame them, I didn't until now. Then again, no one really plans on becoming one, you either believe you go up or down or into space.



The nice thing is that I was well dressed at the time of my demise. That's what you wear for this internment not what you are buried in so make sure you listen when mom says to wear clean underwear. I was wearing my favorite navy pinstripe suit with a power tie, my black pumps were the only thing missing. The newcomers flock to me thinking I'm a cruise director for the Great Beyond. They look so sad when I tell them I know as much as they do maybe a little more. I'm not sure what the date is, time is conceptually different now. I can make approximations based on what's going on in the living world as to seasons and holidays.



Christmas is strange in itself. Mr. Dickens' concept was close because there are the souls that are in the throes of expiation making wretched attempts to right the wrongs of their past lives. It's a different level of perdition for them but who makes the judgment calls is still unknown to me. Sometimes they are able to intervene and that leads them closer to the theoretical or theological apotheosis we've become accustomed to as humans. It's the chance for redemption before final damnation. These were bad folks in real life.



The really evil ones you learn to steer away from altogether. They are easily recognizable as ugly shapeless black entities, for a better description. You can feel them when they are close by and even in death they can make you shudder. They have no desire to be saved and move on; they are quite content to continue inflicting agony on innocent victims. And, they stink. It's like a year old Easter egg that was encased in dog shit, tossed in the compost heap and set on fire.



I stay close to my old haunts, no pun intended. Familiarity affords some comfort and seeing friends and family is some provision of solace. It can also be frustrating. You see, I can't move on to whatever the next level is since I was murdered. Until my killer is found and punished I'm stuck here. The drawback is that no one realizes I was murdered and so the hunt for the guilty is not taking place.



The set up was perfect. I received a call from Dunston to meet him at an address to check out a potential sale. The house was located on the outskirts of the city and hidden from the main road. It was winter and we had a dangerous ice storm a few nights prior to my visit. I was hesitant about going there but he was insistent and I had all wheel drive.



Finding the house was easier than I anticipated. There was a long driveway that led to a foreboding old mansion. "He's got to be kidding." I thought to myself. There had better be something inside that would make the house marketable, imported wood, marble, all the embellishments one would desire in such a manor. I was glad I wore my boots when I cautiously approached the front steps. I didn't see Dunston's car so I took a chance that the front door may be opened. Soon as my hand turned the doorknob and I was able to gain entrance I felt a sense of something menacing.



Inside was dark and I had to remove my sunglasses. The sun was out today and was reflecting off of the ice-encrusted snow and creating rivers of slush. As my eyes adjusted to the light of the room I could see the house had been closed for a while but someone had begun to make minor repairs. Drop cloths shrouded furniture and a ladder stood in the center of the room. Off to the left was a staircase that wrapped around to a larger landing that led to a few doors.



I was just about to go through the main room to a doorway I assumed led to a pantry or kitchen when I heard a noise upstairs. I stopped in my tracks and listened carefully. Quiet. My adrenaline kicked in and I started to get a cold chill. Probably an animal that's just as frightened as I am, I told myself. I resumed my exploring when I heard the noise again, a shuffling sound of some sort. I was now curious as well as unnerved and decided to find the source of the noise.



I wasn't afraid of the unknown because I believe that everything can be explained. I inherited that from my father, he was an anthropologist and unlocking mysteries was his forte. He taught me everything had a cause and effect, nothing was without reason. It's ironic in a way because he didn't believe in ghosts. Here I am, proof positive that they do exist.



Climbing the staircase, I made a list of possibilities in my head of what could be making the noise. After all, the house was old and could be settling, I had already presumed the possibility of animals or maybe a vagrant had been seeking shelter. The realtor in me was rather impressed by the intricately carved staircase. It was a dark cherry wood probably imported and matched the wood panels that lined the walls.



I was looking up at the ceiling when I stepped down on a weakened board. My foot easily punched through to my ankle causing my boot to get hung up in the splintered wood. My knee jammed against the next stair and I went down hard hitting my chin off the stair above that one. I could taste the blood in my mouth and the stinging in my leg. What pissed me off the most was that I had just put on a new pair of stockings for a meeting later with a new client. I can imagine the impression I would make to him.



I was trying to get my bearings when I heard footsteps in the hallway above me. Looking up I could see nothing moving. If that bastard Dunston was playing a joke on me I was going to rip him a new asshole.



"Hey! Smartass. Jokes over come and help me, I've hurt my leg." I yelled.



There was no reply.



"This isn't funny now, my foot is stuck and I'm not sure if it's broken or not."



Still no reply.



Now I was really pissed and I had to spit out the blood welling in my mouth, I had knocked out a tooth as well as biting a hole in my lip. My tears were a mix of pain and anger streaming down my cheeks. I tried to wrench my foot from the hole and in doing so lost my boot.



Fuck, I thought, a pair of $300 Prada ankle length lambskin boots shot to shit. He's going to buy me a new pair. My ankle was starting to throb and swell; I prayed it was just a sprain. Pulling my self up onto my good leg I braced myself against the railing and looked for my purse to get a tissue. Then I heard the faint sound of a deep laugh coming from the room above me.



'You prick. ' I thought to myself. 'What the hell was he up to?' I gingerly made my way up the staircase checking each board before putting my foot down. I hobbled along on one bad leg and one booted leg until I reached the top of the landing.



As I reached the top of the landing an icy breeze cut right through me and I shivered uncontrollably. There were no sounds other than a dripping of water. I followed the sound to a small room off to my left. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling where large icicles hung down and formed a small mound of ice spread out on the floor. The room was pretty much empty except for a standing mirror with a chair placed in front of it. The light coming in from the ceiling allowed me to see a circle drawn on the floor and some small candle stubs. It looked as though someone had been performing some kind of ritual. As I moved closer I saw on the floor an inverted pentagram and in the center was the fountain pen I received as a gift from when I first opened the business. I thought I had lost it and panicked because it was so sentimental to me.



I was getting scared now, this wasn't funny it was wrong. I needed to get out of there quickly. There was a sound behind me like something rushing past the door. I limped out after it. Reaching into my purse I fumbled for my can of pepper spray just in case. I'd give that bastard a face full if he was there.



I walked into the next room; it was darker than the first. Old deteriorating drapes hung from the windows and their heavy material blocked out most of the light. I thought I saw something move in the corner a black shape of some sort.



"Who ever you are, show yourself or I'm going to give you a spraying you'll never forget." I shouted. There was no reply and no movement. "I can hear you breathing asshole." Still nothing.



I reached into my bag for my cell phone and started to dial 911. Something or someone unseen rushed at me and knocked the phone out of my hand sending it smashing into the wall. My heart was starting to pound and I could feel myself break out into a cold sweat. I backed out of the room and there, at the top of the staircase, stood Dunston. He stood there staring as if he could see right through me.



The air grew cold and I could see my breath as I spoke to Dunston.



"What the hell is going on here?"



"I'm getting what I want." He said flatly.



I could feel presence behind me and then I could smell a smell I would soon become familiar with, the smell of death. It grew stronger and I started to feel nauseous. Slapping my hand over my mouth to keep from vomiting. I moved towards Dunston. He stepped in front of me to block my way out.



I swallowed hard. "Get out of my way."



He smiled slightly lifting one corner of his mouth. "Or you'll what? Call the police?"



I remembered the can of pepper spray and if reading my thoughts he grabbed my wrist and twisted it making me drop the canister to the floor.



"Nice try, but as I said I'm getting what I want." He then pushed me into the first room I had entered. A sharp pain shot through me as I put weight on my injured foot. I lost my balance and fell to the floor. As I scrambled to pull my self up onto my knees I locked eyes with the mirror. The image inside was not a reflection of me getting up but of me lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. I could feel the blood drain from my face and felt sick once again.



Turning around quickly I sat on the floor and faced Dunston. His face showed no emotion, no regret, and no compassion.



"I want to know what's going on here, right now. What do you mean by getting what you want?" I asked.



"You know what I want. I want the business and I need your soul." He sneered. "And maybe a piece of that fine ass of yours while I'm at it."



He lunged towards me and I kicked at him hitting him square in the chest with my good leg sending him backwards and landing on his tailbone.



"Fucking bitch!" he said. "Hold her down." he said to something lurking in the hallway. Then that smell wafted into the room and a large black figure came over me and I was unable to move. I was beginning to panic, this couldn't be real, and I had to be dreaming it all.



I could see nothing but black as if I was unconscious but aware. I could feel his cold hands sliding up my thighs and pushing my legs apart. My blouse was torn open and I heard the buttons skittering across the room. My bra was roughly pulled down revealing my breasts to what I can only assume was a pair of icy lips. They sucked brusquely then the sharpness of teeth biting down and scraping against my nipples made me whimper. "Please don't let this be happening." I whispered to myself as I closed my eyes.



The torment on my nipples stopped and I felt my panties and nylons being yanked down. Then icy fingers shoved themselves deep inside my pussy, probing and twisting. What felt like a nearly frozen tongue stabbed at my clit and ran between the folds of my lips. As the frozen lips sucked hard on my clit I heard the sound of a zipper ripping through the silent room. I tried once again to move but it was as if large hands pinned my arms to the floor.



"Stop!" I heard a woman say. "You promised her to me."



I opened my eyes and was able to see again. Dunston was kneeling between my legs with his erect cock standing out from his fly. He looked frustrated, his eyes focused on something behind me. "I know, but..." he stammered.



"Were you going back on your word? We had a deal, I give you what you want and you give me what I want. I already have your soul." Said the woman. "Don't be so fucking stupid. I can rip you into so many pieces they would never be able to put you back together again."



"Why can't we both enjoy her?" he asked.



"You sold your soul when you summoned me. You knew the price you were paying and what the details were. Now remove yourself from my sight." She said.



Suddenly Dunston was thrown against the wall like a rag doll landing in a crumpled heap on the floor. The fear I felt was overwhelming, tears started to roll down my cheeks into my ears. My hair was stuck to my forehead in the cold sweat that formed on my brow. The shadow moved over me and transformed itself into the form of a woman.



She was beautiful and horrible at the same time. Her skin was translucent and had a bluish cast to it, her hair black as night but wild as if it were alive. Her eyes were the thing I remember the most, blue eyes that were so light they were almost white. She looked right through me and I tried to turn from her gaze. Rough hands began to roam my body. Her frozen touch burned at my skin.



"I've waited long enough for you. Don't worry I'll be gentle." She laughed.



A long dark tongue sprung from between her lips and snapped at my nipples like a whip. I cried out from the sting. It then moved up and traced the outline of my lips. I could smell the foulness of decay on her breath and held my own breathing in check. The tongue then moved into my mouth exploring and probing.



Without warning my legs were pulled up over her shoulders, lifting my ass off the ground. With the same whip like motion my clit was laved over and over until the snakelike member slowly entered me. Long and cold it forced its way deeper sending an electric shock through my body. Undulating inside me the intruder was relentless, my body gave into the assault and my whimpers turned into moans of pleasure. I could feel the orgasm rise and connect to every nerve in my body. It burst through with exquisite pain as the tongue stretched me wider filling me completely.



I had collapsed into unconsciousness and woke up to find myself alone. When I finally came to my senses I remembered the attack. Shivering, I pulled my tattered blouse around me and moved onto my side to try to lift myself up without using my bad leg. My head snapped back abruptly as a hand grasped my hair in its sharp nailed grip.



"We're not done yet," was, whispered hoarsely into my ear.



"Please don't. Let me go. I won't tell anyone." I cried.



"You're an offering to me. I can do as I wish to you. Who would believe your story anyway... that you were fucked by a demon?" she laughed.



Sharp nails raked across my ass as I was pushed up onto my knees and swiftly entered from behind. It was as if an icy hot poker was shoved up inside my pussy burying itself deep inside me. I found out the hard way that demons have possession of the distinction of both genders despite their outward appearance.



As the demon's member tore into my insides pummeling me relentlessly her tongue flicked against my ass. It could feel the pressure against my rectum as it easily slid into me filling me with a mix of pain and pleasure. My mind was beyond comprehending what was happening to me anymore. I tried to crawl away but the nails dug deeper into my thighs sending rivulets of blood dropping to the floor. My nipples were stiff and tingling from the cold air that came through the open ceiling. Snow had started to fall, creating a horrific snow globe scene.



The demons grunts became louder as she pounded into me harder, punishing me for trying to escape.



"You're a tight cunted bitch aren't you?" she hissed. "My cock can't take much more of this."



The she-devil gave one last thrust and let out an earsplitting howl as she came inside me in a geyser of molten ejaculate. The sound reverberated throughout the house shaking the foundation and as my own orgasm hit, that's when it happened.



The demon reached for a large thick icicle hanging from the gap in the ceiling and speared it right through my body pinning me to the ground. As the demon released herself from me she bent and whispered in my ear.



"Thank you for the best fuck I've had in centuries." Then she placed a tender hot kiss on my cheek.



The room grew cold as the snow fell silently around me. My arm was twisted and I could see the time pass away on my watch as the warmth of my blood pooled underneath me. 14 minutes and 32 seconds passed before I rose from my mortal body and floated upward. Looking down I could see what was once me lying in a crimson pool of steaming blood. Any signs of the attack had been cleared away and it looked as though I had met with a rather unfortunate end.



During the inquisition Dunston lied and concocted a story about my being involved with Black Magic. He would be the one to 'discover' my body. The rat bastard told them that was how he felt I was able to become so successful because my business ethics were lacking. My business ethics were lacking? It's almost laughable.



He tried to say I threatened to curse him if he didn't do my bidding. At times, he told the detective, I would talk to someone he couldn't see and mutter strange words over my files.



Detective Webster wasn't too sure about Dunston's story, she had been assigned to the case and didn't buy the Black Magic story. Twenty-two years on the force gave her the ability to read victims and this guy was hiding something. Something didn't feel right about this entire situation.



For over a week now the seasoned detective was fraught with the opinion that Dunston had something to do with my death, but what was the connection?



I was now bent on having my death exposed and my revenge exacted. Until I can figure out how, I linger between death and after death. I've briefly spent my time in Hell and it was time to move onward.

Once I knew my potential as a spirit, I haunted every house he tried to sell. I slammed doors, broke windows and passed through the bodies of his clients. The business was ready for filing bankruptcy when I appeared to Dunston in his mirror one morning. Based on his reactions I would show up wherever he went. I tormented him in his sleep. He was beginning to look thin and wane, his clothes hung on him and he stopped shaving. His hands would tremble and he didn't dare to look down into his coffee cup because he may see me there.



I had him almost where I wanted him, but I doubted he would confess to the crime. I needed to expose him. While he slept I planted the thought in his head that his finger prints may still be at the crime scene and that he should go back to check.



Then I went into Detective Webster's dreams beckoning her to go back to the crime scene. I told her all would be revealed.



I rode along side Dunston as he drove back to the house. I stayed quiet and stared straight ahead seeing Dunston shivering and knowing I was there but pretending he didn't see me. I vanished as he turned into the driveway. I would meet him in the house.



Pulling up to the front of the house he paused and got out, opened the trunk and pulled out a bag. Walking up to the porch he hesitated as he reached for the front door knob so I opened the door for him. He walked inside mopping his forehead with a handkerchief staring up at the landing above, his eyes focused on the door to the room where I died.



'Come on you jerk,' I said to myself. I didn't want the Detective to arrive too early. The timing had to be perfect.



He finally started up the staircase stepping over the hole where my foot had gone through and where I lost my damn boot. Taking a deep breath he entered the room. I had lit the candles and placed his cell phone in the center of the inverted pentagram. He padded his inside jacket pocket realizing the phone was gone, he never felt me as I slipped it out while he was gathering cleaning supplies to get rid of his fingerprints.



Dunston reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of spray cleaner and some paper towels, he wet the towels and started to wipe the edges of the mirror.



"Make sure you do a thorough job this time." I said to him from the reflection.



"You bitch." He said as he stared back at me. "What do you want? Why can't you leave me alone?"



"Stupid boy, I want my revenge." I could hear the sound of someone else in the house climbing the staircase quietly. Dunston didn't hear anything as he was focused on me.



"I don't know what you're talking about." He lied.



"Even as you face the end you're still a weasel." I said. "I'll just have to keep haunting you the rest of your days, I can do it. I have lots of time on my hands."



"I'm not afraid of you." He said smugly.



"No? You look like shit warmed over." I said as I allowed him to see his own gaunt reflection in the mirror. "You're the walking dead. You sold your soul remember?"



"Fuck you!" he spat.



"You tried that too. Didn't get very far, did you?" I said.



"I would have if it wasn't for that bitch demon." He sneered.



"God you're pathetic. You summoned a demon and sold your soul to get my business. Wouldn't it have been easier to just kill me yourself?"



"I needed the power and a way to do it so I wouldn't get caught. It was worth it, all of it." He said.



"Was it really, you gutless wonder?" I knew the Detective was standing outside the door listening. "What did you do call 666-DEMON? Surf the web?"



"I didn't need to I've been a student of the dark arts for years, it was just a matter of timing and summoning the right demon. Not that you would believe me but I never meant for you to die like that." He said.



"Aw, my heart's breaking. Tell me something; do I have things set up right? I've got the mirror, the candles, the symbol and something of yours. I want to make sure I get it all right." I said.



He started to laugh. "You think you can call up a demon? You're dead or don't you recall? I only wish that I was awake at the time to see her do it."



"Hang on I'll show it to you." I brought up the image of my final moments into the mirror so he could see what had transpired. Detective Webster was now inside the room and watching with disbelief as my death played out before her.



Dunston stood there slack jawed as he saw himself being thrown against the wall and winced as he recalled the pain. He grinned during my assault and last breathing moments. I wanted to strangle him right then and there.



"So admit it Harry Potter, you murdered me didn't you?" I taunted.



"Yes, I did. I killed you through my dark powers. I summoned one of the vilest demons from Hell and got what I wanted...and you. You lost your soul and your life and here I am still alive and with all that you've worked for in my possession. It was so easy to set you up, just a matter of timing." He said.



"Just a matter of timing." I said back as he spun around when he heard the clicking of Detective Webster's gun being set into the firing position.



"Freeze Dunston." Said the detective coolly. "I saw it and heard it all. You're going away for the rest of your life."



Webster got on her phone and called for a unit to come and get Dunston. He admitted to the crime and was going to jail.



As the investigators returned to re-evaluate the crime scene I stood next to Detective Webster as she leaned against her car and smoked a cigarette, the first one she had since she quit 5 years ago.



"Detective Webster?" I whispered. "Don't be alarmed, you're not crazy I'm a spirit."



Her eyes grew wide as she stared through me trying to focus on my fading form. "I noticed that from inside the room." She said. "What do you want from me?"



"Nothing. I just wanted to thank you for setting me free. I can move on now since my death has been exacted. I can finally be at peace." I said.



"I'm sorry we had to meet this way, so to speak. I just wish he were getting more than a prison sentence. That bastard deserves to fry for what happened to you." She said.



"Not to worry Detective. He'll get what's coming to him, I promise."

Richard Dunston sat curled up on the cold floor in the corner of his solitary cell weeping into his hands. Across from him on his cot was a black shape chuckling softly. It knew Dunston was sore and humiliated from his nightly buggering. His tattered clothes were gathered loosely around him and scratches still showed on his face. The guards stopped listening to his screams seeing that there was no sign of anyone in the room with him. Not that anyone could be, he was the only prisoner in that part of solitary, and the next closest prisoner was a cellblock away.



Richard Dunston knew that praying for death would be worse than being alive. Richard Dunston had no one to pray to, he had sold his soul and would be damned forever. Poor Dick

The carnival sprang up like an exotic weed overnight at the edge of town, while the good folks of Zachariah were sleeping. The tiers of its brightly hued tents crept up right between the rusty water tower and the long-abandoned grain silo of Banter's Farm. In the chill hours before dawn, up went the symmetrical mechanical glory of the Ferris wheel, the daunting curvature of the Night on Bald Mountain and the serpentine metal fingers of The Angry Cobra. From out of nowhere, vendors wheeled in cotton candy stalls and hotdog stands to feed the hungry mouths of babes. By the time the first rooster began its throaty dawn call, the "One Night Only" signs were up and the show was ready for business.



Amidst the bright noise of the fair, it was easy to lose oneself. As fire twirlers danced to pounding rhythms, flashing lights zoomed along roller-coaster tracks and criers endorsed freakish glimpses of astonishing physical peculiarities in the freak tent, the guileless citizens of Zachariah were drawn in to feast their eyes on an undiscovered world of untold pleasures. Wary husbands clandestinely lined up to get a view of the infamous Caribbean Mermaid whilst their wives congregated outside the tent of the Mysterious Madame Szabo, who advertised her rather dubious talents with an illustration of an eye on the palm of a hand. During the daylight hours, children ran amongst the stalls screaming with hyperactivity, feasting on corn dogs and lining up impatiently to gain entry to The Haunted House. Rarely did the townsfolk get to experience such wondrous delights, and as the good people of Zachariah anticipated their annual day of revelry, other less upstanding characters prepared themselves as well, for their greatest night of the year, the night that the spirit world hung closest to the world of flesh.



For the local youth, The All Hallows Eve Fair was the event of the year. You didn't have to ask a kid from Zachariah if she was going to The Fair. It would be like asking the preacher if he was going to be at church on Sunday or asking Farmer Starch if he was going to be out in the fields come harvest time. You'd have to be crazy or just plain dumb to ask a question like that, because everybody knew that everybody went. It was the one night a year when there was no curfew, when you could eat as much candy as you wanted and when you didn't have to be in bed before nine. It was a time of freedom, leisure and perfect, unspoiled joy for all the children in town. At least, it should have been.



On one such crisp autumn carnival afternoon, Cassie Davis was having a less than perfect day. Roughly dragging her younger sister by the hand, she strode away from the ferris wheel simmering with rage, her black braids swinging jerkily with every angry step. Her cheeks had flushed red and her lips were tightly closed over her teeth. She ignored Rose's bleating protests, which only made her determined to walk more quickly. She sucked in her breath and turned to the youngster. "I'll have you know, you ruined my life!" She growled. "Chris Sharpe was gonna ride with me! But you had to come along and whine and spoil it all! Hell, you're eleven years old. It's not like you're a baby. You could have left me alone for five gosh darn minutes!"



Rose was unapologetic. "Ow! You're hurtin' me! I'm gonna tell Mama you used the 'H' word!" She threatened, her eyes filling with tears of indignation under her thick wire spectacles. "'Sides, you promised you'd take me to the Haunted House. You promised!" She dragged her bad left foot jerkily as her furious sister yanked her forward.



Cassie was too busy delivering her diatribe of teenaged righteous fury to notice the tall gentleman with the gold-tipped cane walking towards them. Still yelling at her sister, she was startled out of her discourse when she slammed up against the stranger, tripping in the mud and soiling the knees of her jeans. Suddenly trembling in embarrassment, she peered up at the man, whom she judged to be as old as her father.



The stranger wore a dark wool suit with a starched collar and a black silk cravat. Atop his dark curly locks he sported a top hat. He had a thick black moustache that looked like it had been shaped with wax. His anachronistic appearance would have been bizarre in Zachariah on a normal day, but on Fair day, such things were expected.



The man tipped his cap politely. "Oh, goodness me. Please forgive me ladies. I didn't see you coming this way." He put forward a gloved hand to guide Cassie to her feet. He talked like a Yankee, but there was a trace of a foreign accent as well. She couldn't quite place it.



"Seeing as I have inconvenienced you, I would be most humbled if you would accept a wish as a token of my most sincere apology." Before the girls could query his odd proposal, he had removed a shiny object from his left breast pocket and placed it in the eldest's hand. Before she could ask any questions, the gentleman had swiftly gone on his way, swinging his cane.



"Can I see?" Pestered Rose, grabbing at the object, which revealed itself as a gold ring encrusted with red stones. Cassie snatched it away. "No, he gave it to me, stupid." She slipped it on the middle finger of her left hand, and noted with pleasure that it fit perfectly.



Rose continued to grab at the ring. "He said it was a wish. You should make a wish Cassie!"



The older sister snorted. "I wish you would disappear!" She chided. Of course, her wish was unanswered and, grumbling, she said, "Come on, let's go to your stupid Haunted House." The girls walked on, holding hands.



The Haunted House revealed itself as rather tame. A slow moving rail car moved through a cobweb-adorned tent in which ghostly sounds played from the dark. The occasional masked actor would jump out in front of the car as it moved past. By the end of it, the girls were giggling with derision.



Their venture to Madame Szabo's showed more promise. Although bedecked in paste jewels and a turban like a common huckster, she displayed a promising shrewdness when she remarked that Rose was destined for the stage. The younger girl was always singing at home, and she was the star of the church choir, after all. When the clairvoyant perused the palm of Cassie's hand and clucked her tongue and asserted obscurely, "You haven't even begun to use your powers yet." As the sisters turned to leave, the fortune-teller yelled out. "You, with the dark hair. I'll be seeing you again tonight."



Cassie mumbled, "C'mon Rosie. I reckon we've been gypped." The girl had been disappointed to hear no mention of Chris Sharpe in her future, and she dismissed the elderly lady as a charlatan.



After a ride on the Annihalator and a couple of bellyfuls of cotton candy, the girls were slowing down. The hour was getting rather late, but they were far from ready to return to everyday life. Needing to ease their overworked feet, they ducked into the smallish Magic Tent. The show, showcasing a certain Baron Kronos and His Astonishing Menagerie of Peculiarly Clever Creatures was just beginning.



They gasped and turned to each other as the curtain was drawn to reveal their mustachioed stranger from earlier. When the magician flashed a grin, a gold tooth twinkled in the dazzling stage lights. Cassie unconsciously fingered her new ring, which seemed suddenly to have grown tighter on her lithe finger.



The Astonishing Menagerie turned out to be a goose, two rather mangy cats and a trained lizard. As the enigmatic Baron waved his wand, his creatures walked upside down, disappeared and reappeared in the handbags of astounded ladies and even, in the case of the Learned Cats, danced a waltz. Although Cassie, having reached the venerated age of eighteen, felt that she had seen better in her time, young Rose was delighted. As the cats began to step gracefully to the tune of The Blue Danube, the younger girl gave out a squeal of excitement and clapped her hands. When, as the crescendo of his performance grew near, the Baron asked for an audience volunteer, the kid shot up like spit on a griddle. Cassie tried to yank her sister down by the shirt collar, but it was too late and she had already hobbled her way to the front, limping and jumping as fast as her one good foot could take her. Resigned, the elder sister slid down in her chair, hoping that none of her schoolmates were there to see her younger sister make a spectacle of herself.



Cassie figured it was going to be a disappearing act. Those shows always ended in the same old way. She rolled her eyes as the magician waved his wand over her sister and said some words that were either gibberish or Latin, she couldn't tell which. Then suddenly, Rose was gone and there was a squirrel sitting on the podium where the girl had stood. The guy was quick. She didn't know how he had done it. It was literally as if she had vanished. He must have used a trap door, but it had been so fast, there was a collective gasp from the audience. Cassie waited for the pay-off, when the girl would suddenly reappear behind the table or some such nonsense, but before she knew it, Baron Kronos had smiled, there was an explosion of gunpowder, and he had vanished off the stage. The curtain went down. There was no sign of Rose anywhere.



The bulk of the audience was noisily moving on to the next amusement, but Cassie was still left blinking and waiting for her sister to re-materialize. She began to feel slightly nervous, but told herself the magician must have led the girl outside at the end of the show. She left the tent and walked around the back. There were no doorways, secret or otherwise. Traversing the circumference of the tent, she inspected the ground carefully to check for any loose earth that might signify a hidden trap door.



Filling with dread, she went back inside the tent and crawled up on stage, which was now, curiously, completely devoid of any props or furniture, although only several minutes had passed and there had been no sign of any carnival crew entering or leaving. She picked her way over the stage on her hands and knees, feeling for any irregularities where there might be a door. She began to truly panic, and she ran out of the tent calling her sister's name. Rushing out into the still busy carnival thoroughfare, she nearly slammed into a couple of unicycling fire jugglers in her frenzy. "Take it easy, kid!" One of them yelled.



She called out to them. "Have you seen my sis-", but before she had finished her sentence, the performers had cycled away.



I wish you would disappear... Her own cruel words rang in her ears. Could it be her terrible wish had come true?



She craned her head around frantically, hoping to catch a glimpse of a ponytail, a flash of gingham skirt. "Have you seen a girl go by? Blonde, short, walking with a limp?" She asked a middle-aged lady in a drab brown coat. The woman shrugged, and kept walking. She stopped an entwined young couple and asked them if they'd seen her sister, but they just giggled and wished her good luck. No one that she met offered her any help, and she began to think she might even cry, although she never cried. Just as she was turning to go back into the Magic Tent one more time (because she had failed to come up with a better option), a bejeweled hand clamped down on her shoulder with force. "I told you we would meet again, eh, my child?" A voice whispered in her ear.



An hour later, Cassie was making her way into unknown territory. She terrible knowledge that had just been revealed to her weighed on her heavily, but she walked with determination. The old lady had been right about so many things, she thought, she trusted this was the only way.



The trailer was on the far edge of the camping ground, slightly away from the other traveling vehicles. It would have been difficult to find in the dark without the aid of the soft red glow seeping from its windows. Its outer walls were covered in elaborate paintings. From the faint light of the half moon in the cloudy October sky, she could make out a smiling sun, an angry moon face and a bevy of constellations. There were also scattered symbols placed at various intervals between the stars. They might have been Greek letters, Celtic Runes or Sanskrit, for all Cassie knew. What she did know was the she was determined to get her sister back, whatever it would take.



She realized that her legs were shaking so hard she could scarcely stand up straight when she knocked on the door of the menacing abode. She was shivering, but not just from the crisp autumn air. As the door swung slowly in, she nearly ran away from the fright, but she held her ground. She was slightly relieved to find that the stranger was much less intimidating in his nightclothes. He wore a red silk smoking jacket with a matching tasseled cap and he cradled a sweet-smelling cigar in his left hand. His luxurious moustache was still perfectly groomed. "Good evening, miss." He boomed. "I suppose you've come to give me your wish back. Do come in from the cold."



Cassie had not expected him to be so accommodating, so her planned speech was flustered. "Sir," She asserted. "I think you did ... somethin' ... with my sister and I demand that you give her back to me right now!"



The gentleman chuckled, moving his cigar to his lips. "I see. Sherry?" He proffered, uncorking a crystal decanter from a low table and motioning with his head. "No? I think I'll take a snifter myself, if you don't mind." From inside, the cabin of the trailer appeared ten times the size it did from the exterior. It must have been a trick of the shadows and the low, red lighting. Suddenly, she gasped when she noticed a squirrel in a gilt cage on the other end of the room. As it moved to and fro, it appeared to be limping, as its left paw was malformed. Following in the direction she was looking, he abruptly moved to the end of the room and threw a throw rug over the squirrel's cage. "Poor little dear. She gets so excited when she sees visitors. Please, take a seat."



She couldn't trust him, but perhaps if she cooperated he would help her. She accepted a plush red oversized pillow and he plunged his muscular bulk across from her.



She noted that the room was fit for an Indian prince. The low ceilings were hung with swathes of burgundy and yellow silk, with a miniature electric mock-chandelier for the centerpiece. The floor was strewn with rich oriental rugs and pillows of various shapes and colors. There was a mahogany bookshelf along one wall, full of dusty antique texts. Candles were nestled about the corners of the room, casting moving shadows against the walls. In any other circumstance, she would have been enchanted.



"Now, to the case at hand." Drawled the trickster, chewing on his cigar. "My dear, I would like to help you, but really there's nothing I can do. If I went around taking wishes back after I'd given them out, I wouldn't be very good at my job, now would I? I'm afraid that was a one-wish only offer that I gave you, and I can't give away another one free. Think of my reputation!"



Cassie stared down at her hands and chewed her lip. "Madame Szabo warned me you wouldn't take it back." He raised his eyebrows when she mentioned the clairvoyant's name. "But she said ..." The girl gulped, and then went on in a lowered tone of voice. "She said that maybe you might be willin' to bargain." In the hour between her sister's disappearance and her arrival at the trailer, much had been revealed to her.



The magician put down his glass of sherry and inched minutely closer to her. "Oh, she did, did she?" He twisted his lips into a smile. "Would you care to elaborate, young lady?"



Her voice began to shake as she continued. "She said that it .. that ... for a wizard, it could ... uh ... increase ... his powers to ... to take a virgin."



The Baron's voice lowered an octave when he spoke again. "Did she?" He growled. He took one of her hands playfully in his own and began to stroke her palm. She didn't resist. "I assume that you would be willing to ... ah ... make that transgression, in exchange for the restoration of your female sibling?" The teenager lowered her eyes and turned away from his gaze, but nodded silently.



She shivered as the loutish conjurer brought her hand up to his lips and kissed the inside of her blue-veined wrist. His mouth was strangely hot and his moustache tickled her skin. Goosebumps spread over her bare arms. "Why don't you come over here, love, and sit on my lap?" He suggested. She felt a certain constriction of her internal organs as she obeyed him. She nestled her buttocks against his thighs and leaned back against his silk dressing gown. He stretched his legs out, one to either side of her, so that he could more easily press her fresh young body against his. She could smell tobacco as he breathed hotly against her cheek. His enormous hands slowly began to work their way up her thighs, his thumbs stroking the fabric of her well-worn jeans in tight circles. He pressed his face against the side of her braided hair and breathed in the sweet scent. She flinched as his hands briefly lingered at her crotch, and she began to feel a spreading heat emanating from that area.



She watched a black moth determined to come to it's inevitable demise in the flame of a candle across the room, and noticed that there was a mirror there, reflecting the flickering lights and the lascivious scene at hand. Suddenly, taken out of the situation for a moment, seeing herself in the mirror, she found it hard to believe that this was she, being fondled by a strange man in a place she had never been before. She watched in the mirror as his hands crept up beneath her loose cotton blouse and pulled it over her head. She watched as he undid her braids, letting her hair down her shoulders. She watched him bite into the brown flesh at the nape of her neck as he unhooked her plain cotton bra. She could just make out the shape of her nipples as they hardened in the cool air of the cabin. As he slid her jeans down her hips, she saw the dark triangle of hair where her legs met. Then, she lost sight of the mirror as he spun her around and pinned her against the cushions with his full weight bearing down upon her.



She felt a foreign hardness pressing against her naked crotch as his silk-clothed groin ground into her. He began to breathe sharply through his nostrils as his sweaty dark face bore down upon her and he forced his tongue into her mouth. She accepted the acrid flavor with curiosity, but surprisingly no disgust. Never having experienced a kiss before, except in her fantasies, she was surprised to find the occurrence oddly arousing, as his slick saliva mingled with hers. Prickles of excitement welled up inside her belly.



Grunting, he leaned back on his knees for a moment and released the sash of his robe. As the sides of the gown slipped back, they exposed the thick nest of black hair that covered his torso from his neck all the way down. Since the age of fourteen, she had wondered what a naked man would look like, but she had never known until now. She was frightened by what she might see, but she couldn't help looking down. Her eyes widened as she saw the thick, fleshy growth at the crest of his legs, visions of which she had tried to conjure in hushed conversations with girlfriends in the past. Nothing could have prepared her for this.



It was nowhere near what she would have expected. Instead of the thin, smooth tube she had imagined this hard bundle of flesh was strangely mottled by veins, thick as a table leg and pointed like a devil's tale. There was a small aperture at the top, like the blowhole of a whale, and tiny drops of liquid overflowed from the head. Knowing the relative size of her tiny opening, she was certain that it would kill her to have it driven into her tender insides. She shrieked and backed away. All of the reassurances that she had received by more experienced friends, that her woman's parts were quite stretchy and could accommodate the most surprising lengths and sizes, suddenly were meaningless to her when confronted with this monstrous prospect.

The magician only laughed when he saw her reaction. Instead of going after her, he lay back against the cushions, with his hands behind his head, his enormous protuberance jutting up in the air like the proud mast of a ship. "It's time to seal our bargain, young lady." He cooed. Knowing that she had no real choice, she crawled over to him on her hands and knees and gingerly sat astride his thighs, inches from the two hairy plums of flesh that hung from the base of his frightening bodily instrument. He began to massage her stomach with his left hand, and then slipped it down to part her hidden lips. He worked two of his bulky fingers into the tight spot he found there and began to rub in and out of the slick wet hole, careful to drive them only as deep as they would go. The intrusion was equal parts terrible and exciting for Cassie as the contact sent nervous signals throughout her untrained body. He began to slide the thumb of his other hand along the outside of her lower lips and she realized that she was heating up, and her heart was beating so quickly that it hurt her chest. Her breath was loud in her ears.



Suddenly, he moved his hands around the back of her tight buttocks and grabbed a hold of her hips. He pulled her forward so that the tip of his hard instrument glanced against her pussy. She felt the contact with fear and tingling. She could smell the pungent scent of sweat, tobacco and something unidentifiable. Without warning, the magician lunged his hips forward, and before she had a chance to prepare herself, the head of his cock was buried in her virgin passage.



She cried out in pain and surprise to feel the agonizing stretching. He was not fully inside of her, but she could tell that the way forward would be painful. He moved his hips down for a moment, causing a momentary relief. He forced her chin towards him so that he could stare into her eyes as he took the thing from her that would add so greatly to his power. His face was impassive, unmerciful, but his ragged breath belied his great excitement at this moment of his glory. Manipulating her hips with his powerful hands, he moved his cock head in and out of her several times, savoring the last seconds of her virginity with pleasure. Then, he thrust into her with one quick stroke, splitting her around his massive tool.



Trying not to focus on the pain, Cassie began to move up and down over him, her tight muscles loosening around his engorgement. Her deflowerer was groaning with the stimulation. Snakes of sweat crawled down his cheeks as he moved his hips slowly to meet her. The girl was astonished to find that despite the discomfort, she was experiencing a not unpleasant sensation flooding through her limbs. However, as her pleasure grew, so did her sense of horror, as an awful reality began to dawn.



Something strange was happening to the magician. With a horrible sensation, she realized that he was getting bigger. His stomach and chest began to expand, and his muscles were hardening and becoming more defined. She tried to get off of him, but his hands held her fast. His shoulders appeared to have broadened by at least several inches. She felt his thighs stretch and grow below her. Even the organ that was tucked inside of her was enlarging and she began to fear she would be broken apart. Then she saw his face.



His eyes had changed from brown to green, and the irises were lengthening to slits, like a snake's eyes. He pulled back his lips in a grin, and she screamed as she saw that his teeth had become sharp. A black forked tongue slithered out and tasted the air. He hissed from his throat, "It won't be much longer now, my dear." He was breathing very quickly now, and bucking his hips like an angry horse.



For a moment, Cassie felt almost that she would faint with fear, but bravely she regained her composure. Gasping and hiccupping with the fierce ride, she managed to say, with surprising calm, "Baron, there is one more thing that ... Madame Szabo ... told me, which I didn't mention ... before." She paused to catch her breath. There was still enough human expression in the magician's eyes for him to look confused. His thick black brows twisted querulously. He seemed to be surprised that his show of horrendous strength had not utterly cowed her beyond the point of speech.



The girl continued, this time more steadily. "She said that if you spilled your seed inside the body of a witch, that all of your abilities would be ... stolen. Is that correct?" The Baron began to hiss and shake his head. His hands stopped putting quite so much pressure on her hips. "You see," Cassie said. "Apparently, Madame knew my great-great-great—oh I don't know how many greats. I forget. My great times many grandmother. They were quite chummy, back in the old days! Pity about the whole being burned at the stake thing!"



At that, Kronos grabbed the lithe young girl by the hips and attempted to throw her off of him. With a surprising amount of poise and strength, she resisted his offensive and remained firmly atop him, still engulfing his now very impressive manhood (if he could be considered, at this stage, a man). To the conjurer's dismay, Cassie began to contract her muscles in a highly pleasing way and he felt himself begin to lose control. She leaned down and kissed him, running her tongue along his sharpening teeth.



He tried to scream, but it came out as a hiss. Unbearable stimulation ripped through his body and he could feel his potent load begin to rise. The girl squeezed her accommodating cunt around him and gave a moan of delight as he let go into her womb. As the sticky seed hit her cervix, she began to feel the magician grow smaller, and a wonderful sensation of invincibility rose up within her. As she orgasmed, she threw her head back and screamed.



After several seconds of joy, she realized that she had been transported three feet in the air. She looked down to see Kronos rapidly diminishing. When she laughed, her voice bellowed and echoed off the walls. She floated down to touch him with just the point of her finger. "Goodbye, lover." She whispered. At her touch, he disintegrated into a pile of dust. Afterwards, she collapsed on the floor of the trailer, exhausted. As she fell asleep, the wishing ring slid off her finger and was lost.



They awoke when the bright sun hit their faces. Rose looked around her, disoriented. They were lying in an empty field. Not remembering a thing from the night before, she nudged her sister awake. "Cassie, are we in trouble?" She whispered. The elder sister smiled languidly. "No, sweetie." She purred, flexing her muscles. "All our troubles just became officially over." She took her sister's hand and they began the walk home.

Karen was in the middle of playing her new game, Resident Evil 4, dressed in a pair of blue pajama pants covered in black and pink penguins. She was just slightly over weight, soft around the edges was more accurate or cuddly as her boyfriend liked to say. Her top was a black shirt with big pink letters "Good girls do Bad things" and it clung to her D cupped breasts the way most men wanted too. It was obvious just my looking at the caramel hued beauty that she'd pierced her nipples, poking through the shirt from her combined fright an the slight chill in the room. "Holy Shit!" She squealed jumping as some nameless beast exploded onto the screen frightening her and her friend. "Can't be to far from the end of the level" Her reddish brown hair was just pulled up into a messy bun on the back of her hair, greenish eyes turning away from the screen for a brief second before she started jamming the buttons furiously hoping to vanquish her latest foe.



Dressed in her usual red skirt that barely came beneath her ass Tara was comfortably sprawled on the couch behind Karen. Unlike her barefoot friend she had never bothered to take off her red Chucks and still had them on as she clutched a random stuffed animal tightly in her grasp. Red painted nails tore into the fabric as she watched another monster's head explode only to have some centipede grow from its neck to continue the assault. She twisted slightly, a scene most men loved, it showed off her firm bubble but and her tiny waist that led into her almost non-existent breasts, the only part of her that didn't make girls jealous. She was definitely a "dime" as the guys called her, a cute ebony princess with full lips and hair that was always done up. Right now her hair was curled up around her shoulders even though she had no plans beyond watching her friend play Gamecube. It drove Karen nuts how the guys would literally walk right past her to talk to Sara, she'd even caught her boyfriend glancing from time to time. "Oh shoot that thingy!" She squealed pointing as some creature started galloping through the forest toward their hero.



Neither girl was aware that just outside their second story loft was a demonic creation with no other purpose in existence but to destroy life. If they'd only looked out the window they would have watched its approach, seen the other houses it had searched in vain before reaching theirs. On screen the fictional beasts kept the girls wholly unaware of the actual danger lurking just outside their window.



It burst through the window in an explosion of glass, plaster and sparks as brownish green tentacles flooded through what had once been a window. The television was torn from the wall soaring over Karen and shattering against the wall, the Gamecube slamming into her face splitting her lip.



Sara watched as a one of the writhing appendages whipped around her best friend's throat lifting her up into the air. She got to her feet, not moving to help but to escape when another wrapped quickly around her ankles ripping her feet from beneath her. Her hands only barely kept her face from slamming into the corner of the coffee table. Tentacles captured her wrists as well tearing them outward, busting her forehead on table.



Karen had her arms pinned to her sides the beginnings of tears starting to form in her esquisite green eyes as she saw her friend bound like a criminal at this thing's will. Sara couldn't see at all, her face was pinned down against the wooden table facing the couch where she'd been sprawled only a moment before. She strained this way and that trying to pull her arms free



The tentacles would soon grasp Karen's ankles and pull until her legs and her lower body would be facing the creature. Tendrils coming up until they wrapped around her pants and began pulling, sliding them from her frame. Now that she had no pants, it seemed she had no panties on either. One of the slimy appendages slithered between her legs. With a deft stab jammed itself into her pushing beyond all human limits in the first moment.



Karen wasn't given a chance to voice her discontent however, the tentacle around her throat cinched tight cutting of her air and her voice in a single moment. It immediately got the response it wanted, she was thrashing as far as its grip would allow, wriggling like a worm on a hook. Tears that had been welling in her eyes now streamed down her cheeks blocking out her sight.



Sara found her legs spread wide open for the beast who only flipped her skirt up over her shapely rump and pushed passed her panties as it found her anus. It was just a merciless on the beauty as her friend stabbing her deeply right from the start. Sara gasped and struggled to pull her legs together and out of the thing's grip. She'd never let a man into her ass before and it didn't take much back there before she started screaming at the tops of her lungs and praying to gods she didn't believe existed. Her bowels clenched to push out the invader but of course her strength was nothing compared to it. She couldn't see Karen above her being subjected to the same terrors as herself when she screamed. "Help me Karen!! Help!"



Tentacles surrounded the two of them completely, one ripping Karen's hair free of its bun, knotting itself into her reddish tresses and leaning her head back. Again it tensed around her throat completely cutting off her air. Slowly it started to relax but the moment her mouth opened for a gasp of air the tip of that massive coil forced its way into her throat



The tentacle inside of Sara continued to wedge itself into her, being merciless with those intense thrusts. Her legs were be tugged further apart turning her onto her back in the process. She felt her own blood starting to ooze from her ass, each sodomizing thrust tearing the delicate flesh a little farther. Her mind was ripped away from the pain of rape when it twisted her arms straight up behind her nearly tearing them from her shoulders. Another pained whimper parted her full lips as a tentacle curled around her neck stretching her head away from her torso.



Karen screeched one last time as the thing yanked her head back popping a few vertebrae in the process. It was a muffled sound, all the air she could force through her crushed throat and around the invading phallus. Her body was reacting to the abuse, even as her tears moistened her cheeks her cunt lubed itself against the invasion. She was screaming, and thrashing in her mind but in reality the creature had already poisoned her body making her want more and more. Her hips were thrusting towards the beast, ignoring the pain of being torn apart. She could feel her own blood oozing down between her legs and could see Sara begin to writhe in delight as well. "More!" She screamed .



Karen would have screamed out as well if it had let her. Would have begged for it to keep slamming into her. Wouldn't have asked it to stop even when she felt her cervix torn away as it started to invade her empty womb if she could. Instead she was barely conscious, each thrust was coupled with a gasp for air as it loosened its grip for a fraction of a second. The color had already dropped from her tan complexion leaving her a pale purple hue. No more tears escaped her bloodshot eyes fighting to keep open.



There was a moment where both girls were completely lost in their lusts, screaming their heads off in twin orgasms but reality settled back in when the creature started yanking Karen around, fucking her with one, and swinging her around like a ragdoll with its other appendages. She felt her arm dislocated at the shoulder with a sickening pop, her neck snapping several times as well.



For Sara the fantasy ended with the invasion of her intestines. The tentacle pushed past all barriers literally straightening her coils of intestine with each brutal thrust. She watched in horror as her stomach bulged with the violent rearranging of her innards. She appeared pregnant, her stomach expanding outward as the flexible phallus pushed its way into her torso.



Karen was nearly choked to death before it loosened it's hold on her enough for her to recover somewhat. Just enough to get a reaction out of her again as another tentacle would came up from behind and plunged into her butthole. Just like Sara it started stretching her insides, her womb and intestines being bruised internally with each thrust. Her stomach looked like a nest of vipers rolling around each other and she couldn't even force a scream of protest through her raw throat. The tentacle inside of Sara forced her to expand even more, a painful thrust that nearly straightened the rest of her intestines got her attention. She looked like she might be giving birth any time now, but then it began sliding back out and twitching all the way injecting a fluid into her bowels. Even straightened as they were her bowels couldn't hold everything forced inside her. The tentacle seized her skirt pulling it down until tentacles were able to wrap around the skirt and pull it to her skin. Sara whimpered pathetically at the change of pace knowing her future moments before it became reality. Inside her seed and shit mixed together loosening her bowels until they burst free. She felt the liquid filth ooze up and around coating her cunt before finally starting to make



its way upward out of the waist of her pants bubbling up over the band of her skirt. Most of the disgusting concoction remained inside her skirt, which stretched like an overfilled sack. Some to seeped out but the rest started to ooze over the top, glazing her stomach in shit.



Tentacles from around Karen twitched, there were a dozen or more hung in the air around her and soon they would all begin to spray cum. She was completely bathed in creature cum, her top soaked in it, her hair drenched, her ass and cunt not spared as her legs were sprayed. The tentacles in her began to gush, filling her with cum until she had no more room and then it would pull them out.



The cum filling Karen's ass had the same effect on her as it had on Sara. Her ripped and torn bowels broiled inside desperate for a moment's relief and relief she would have. Inside her she felt her womb flooded with liquid, her ass too, intestines inflating like balloons in an attempt to hold what was inside her. She couldn't and soon her body convulsed the pain similar to giving birth as she cramped up expelling as much of the fluid as she could.



The sight of her friend's gapping abused asshole only a few feet from her face made Sara want to scream all over again. She couldn't scream though, her voice was completely gone from her previous screams leaving her with only the ability to make a hoarse gasp as a huge glob of cum dropped from her friend's cunt onto her face. She still couldn't escape when Karen's ass started to drip, first only cum, then brownish grime. A moment later the grime was filled with little chunks of green shit and finally her friend shit on her. A long brown and green piece of shit that fell on her cheek while she continued to try to scream and escape the fate chosen for her.



Hauled up into the air by her neck Karen was choked and twisted to watch her friend's demise. Sara was spread-eagled and stretched as far as her joints would allow. The floor beneath her shattered as another tendril entered the room and plunged into her cunt. It started expanding inside her forcing her cunt to stretch and ultimately tear open. Still it continued to expand more and more till it split her hip. It didn't stop there it continued to push onward.



Sara screamed and screamed and screamed thrashing her pretty head back and forth as fast as she could manage somehow forcing sound through her lips. She felt her cunt split extending all the way to her naval but the beast didn't show any signs of stopping. Instead it continued onward until it started to spasm again flooding her insides with its cum. Her cervix, her womb destroyed now, her stomach shoved aside. Blood, cum, shit, piss, bile they all mixed together as they leaked from Sara's ruptured organs onto the floor. Her legs noisily popped free of their joints as did her ribs separating from her spine as her chest was flooded with cum, inch after inch. For a moment it looked like she had breasts, they were expanding as her body was filled. It oozed from her mouth, her nose, even her eyes were leaking cum by the time her expanded chest popped like an overfilled balloon most of her throat vanishing in the same moment. Only her spine and a few fragile strands of her esophagus connected her skull with what remained of her body.



Tentacles soon came forward and grasped Karen's arms and legs and she was pulled to face her friend's remains. The split corpse was starting to deflate as all the fluids leaked free staining the carpet. Karen was lowered until she was resting inside of the carcass that just a minute ago had been her friend Sara. Tentacles collected up the sides of Sara and pushed them inward to nestle Karen snugly in a bed of her friend's remains, the blood and organs made sure that it was warm for her. Her ass and cunt were raised up a bit as one of those tentacles came for her and began to plunge into her cunt. The tentacle began to plunge into her and fill her, thrusting hard and fast, expanding more and more until her pussy tore and her legs popped from their joints laying flat in Sara's mangled corpse. Her pelvis was destroyed as it continued to fuck her, filling Karen until it burst through her womb and began to thrust up through her entire shell, pushing organs and her ribs outward to make room for it. More thrusts took it closer still to it's orgasm, until it happened and just like Sara. The last thing that Karen would feel was be cum gushing through all the space that was available between her organs, filling every inch of free room inside of her in a giant wave.



She would not simply be popped open at the chest and down to her crotch like Sara had been. Every inch of her being was saturated with the juice, every space, even her veins during her last seconds of life were filled with demonic fluid. She expanded Sara had, her breasts swelling till they rivaled her head, then even larger matching her distended stomach in diameter before popping like fleshy balloons. A moment later her entire body exploded skin, organs and muscles simply blown from her bones. Only the most stubborn scraps of flesh clung to her exposed skeleton. She looked downward, miraculously alive long enough to see through her own chest coated in pink slime before she died

He was kissing her legs. He loves to kiss her legs. Her legs are long and tight. He starts by kissing her left ankle. He crawls to the bottom of the bed, shoving the sheets out of his way, and begins kissing her ankle. He moves up her leg, kissing her calf. He lifts her leg up off of the bed to kiss the back of her calf, his tongue licking her skin. He slides his tongue up her leg to the back of her knee. She shivers and her nipples become erect. He lays her leg back down on the mattress and slowly moves up her thigh. His hands precede his mouth, gently stroking her skin.



He runs his tongue up her inner thigh, enjoying the feel of her smooth skin. His hard cock is rubbing against the mattress. His mouth approaches her pussy. He licks the skin at her crotch quickly and then moves over to her other leg, teasing her. He sucks at the skin on her right thigh. His hands move up her body and slide under the chemise that she wore especially for him tonight. He straddles her right leg. His dick slips out of his boxers and slides along her smooth leg as his kisses begin to move down her thigh.



She writhes against the sheets. She reaches down and grasps the hair on his head. She pulls his head to her wet pussy, wanting to feel his tongue inside her. He obeys and moves his head back up to her crotch. His hands slide along her stomach and reach up to fondle her breasts. She grabs one of his hands and pulls it out from under her chemise. She brings the hand up to her mouth and begins sucking on the index finder.



His tongue moves between the lips of her pussy. He laps gently up probing between the wet lips and gently flicks her clit. She moves his finger in and out of her mouth. Her tongue slides along the finger. His hand massages her breast and pinches the nipple gently. She wraps her long legs around his back and tilts her pelvis towards his mouth. He pushes his tongue inside of her. He rubs his cock against the mattress, wanting to feel it inside of her.



"Daddy! A monster!"



She sucks his finger into her mouth. He moves his tongue up her pussy and sucks her clitoris into his mouth. He begins flicking it with his tongue rhythmically. Her hips jerk uncontrollably against his mouth.



"Daddy! Help! There's a monster!" The yell comes from outside the bedroom door.



He quickly yanks his head from between her legs. He rolls over to the other side of the bed. She pulls her chemise down and covers her body.



"Danny! What is it?" Jack yells as he adjusts his boxers, making sure his penis is completely covered.



"There's a monster in my closet," Danny yells from the hallway.



"There's no monsters, Danny. Go back to bed," Jack yells back at him.



"There is. I saw it," Danny cries. The doorknob jiggles as he tries to open the door.



"Jack," Cindy says, "Go take care of him." She sighs, holding her arms tightly to her chest. Jack looks at her. She looks so incredibly sexy tonight. It's been so long since they've had sex. Tonight was going to be the night. Jack put their son to bed, and then he had come to bed, tired, and ready to go to sleep. But, Cindy had surprised him with the sexy chemise. He wanted her so bad. Their marriage has not been going well recently. They both work hard and rarely have time for each other. When they do have time to spend together they usually end up fighting. They had talked about divorce, but neither wanted that. They still love each other and want to work at repairing their damaged marriage.



"There's no monster in your closet, Danny. Just go back to bed," Jack yells, frustrated and horny. He brings his hand over to her leg, sliding it up her thigh. She grabs his hand.



"Stop it, Jack," she commands, "Go see what he wants." She releases his hand and strokes it softly. "I'll still be here when you get back and I'll still be wearing this." She stretches out along the bed, arching her back. Her full breasts push out against the chemise. He can see the nipples pushing through the thin fabric. He leans over and presses his lips to her mouth. She kisses him deeply. Then, she pushes him away. "Hurry back," she purrs.



Reluctantly, Jack stands up from the bed. The doorknob is jerking as Danny tries to open the locked door.



"Daddy, the door is stuck. Let me in. The monster will get me," Danny cries from the hallway.



"One minute, Danny, I'll be there," Jack says. He picks a t-shirt off of the floor, pulls it on, and walks to the door. He checks his boxers to make sure his penis has gone down and is firmly tucked inside. Then he unlocks the door and opens it slightly. Danny pushes against it and knocks the door open. He runs into his dad's leg and grabs it.



"The monster was gonna get me, Daddy," Danny whimpers and presses his head against Jack's thigh. Jack reaches down and places his hand on top of his son's head, ruffling the hair.



"Come on, Danny. It's all right. There is no monster," he reassures him.



"There is too. I saw it," Danny yells, looking up at his father. Jack reaches down and grabs his son under the arms. He lifts him up and holds him against his side.



"What do you say we go check it out? Then you go back to sleep," Jack says, looking his son in the eyes.



"No, I don't wanna go back," Danny says.



"Come on. I'll protect you," Jack says and begins walking out the door. Ginsburg, their nine-month old Chocolate Labrador Retriever slips through the bedroom. Jack sticks out his foot to stop him, but the dog sneaks by. "Ginsburg, get out of here," he yells at the dog. The dog jumps up on the bed and lies down on his side of the bed.



He looks back at his wife. She's lying in the bed, her back leaning against the headboard, one leg stretched out straight along the bed, the other propped up with her foot resting against the mattress. The chemise is pushed up high on her thighs and he can almost see between her legs.



"Don't make me finish without you, honey," she says and runs her fingers through her long, brown hair.



"Come on, Danny. You're going back to sleep right now," Jacks says and starts walking down the hallway.



"I can't go to sleep daddy, the monster will get me," Danny protests as they approach his bedroom.



"Here, I'll show you, Danny. There is no monster." Jack steps into Danny's bedroom, flips on the light, and sets his son down on the bed. "Where was the monster?" he asks.



"In the closet," Danny says hesitantly and points to the closet. Jack turns to look at the closet. The door is open halfway. "It looked out at me. It hissed and I ran away."



Jack walks over to the closet and opens the door. He turns on the light and looks around the closet. "I don't see anything, Dan. There are no monsters in here." He turns off the light and closes the door firmly. He walks back over to the bed and sits down next to his son. "I'm not going to be able to keep showing you those scary movies if you keep having nightmares, Danny. Your mom is not happy about these nightmares."



"They're not nightmares. I was awake. I saw it. It was in my closet," Danny pouts.



"Danny," Jack says firmly. "There are no monsters. You need to go back to sleep. Be daddy's big boy and go back to sleep," he pleads with his son. Danny looks at his dad. He wants to make his dad happy. He wants to be a big boy.



"Will you stay with me Daddy? Keep the monster away?" Danny asks shyly. Jack sighs, frustrated at his son. He wants to return to his wife, but he can't go back to bed until Danny is definitely asleep, or he'll just interrupt them again.



"Okay, Dan, how about this? I'll sit here with you, and read to you until you fall asleep?" Jack says.



"Okay, daddy," Danny says, happy that his dad is going to stay with him and protect him from the monster.



Jack stands up and pulls the covers up from the bed. "Get under the covers," he says. Danny curls up to his pillow and Jack tucks the covers over him. Jack turns on the light by Danny's bed and then walks over to the bedroom overhead light switch. He turns off the overhead light and walks back to Danny's bed. Danny moves over in his bed against the wall. Jack sits down on the bed next to his son, his back against the headboard and legs stretched out on the mattress. He picks up a Harry Potter book from the nightstand and opens it at the bookmark.



As he begins reading, Danny moves closer to his dad, snuggling against his warmth and protection. Jack lays a hand on son's shoulder and continues reading.



The goblin sighs quietly under the bed. It listens attentively to the father reading to his son. It peers from the shadows under the bed, waiting. The goblin ran from the closet and climbed under the bed when Danny fled the room. It tucked itself into the shadows knowing that no one could see it under there even if someone would look. It could disappear into any shadow.



The goblin is four and half feet tall with long, spidery legs and arms. Its skin is dark green with rough scales. Its skinny torso is covered with an open fur vest. A piece of fur is tied around its waist and a small knife dangles from the belt. Its feet and hands are long and bony, with pointed claws at the end of each toe and finger. Its head is small with a long, crooked nose. The large, yellow eyes are set deep in its head. The mouth is full of sharp, yellow teeth. Its ears are pointed over its head and turn to face any noise it might hear. A few tufts of black hair stick out on top of its head.



The goblin was born into this world from Danny's nightmares. Danny's fears feed the goblin and allow it to roam in this world. Danny is its link to this world, where it can cause trouble and breed fear. Danny's nightmares are not from the horror movies he watches as much as from the confusion and fear he experiences from watching his parents fight. The anxiety from seeing his parents' marriage collapse causes nightmares that the goblin uses to materialize in Danny's bedroom and terrify him even more.



It listens to Jack reading the book to Danny. It hears his voice getting tired and slow. It can already hear the soft, sleeping breath of the boy. Then, Jack stops reading and the goblin waits expectantly. Jack starts to breathe heavily as he falls asleep. The goblin holds a clawed hand to its mouth as it laughs quietly. It waits for a few minutes, listening to both of them fall further into sleep.



Slowly, it crawls towards the wall at the head of the bed and towards the nightstand. It reaches behind the nightstand and pulls the lamp's plug from the wall. The room becomes dark. The goblin waits, hearing if either of them will wake up, but both them are still sleeping soundly, the father now snoring quietly.



It crawls from under the bed, quietly pulling itself along the floor by its claws. It stands up by the bed and looks at the father and boy sleeping soundly. A gnarled hand reaches out and touches the father softly on the forehead. Jack stirs in his sleep. The goblin bares its teeth and hisses silently. It presses the palm of its hand against Jack's head, searching for his dreams. Jack is having an erotic dream about his wife. He's dreaming he left Danny's bed to go back to his bedroom where his wife is waiting, now dressed in a black teddy, black stockings, and high heels. The goblin closes the master bedroom door in Jack's dream, separating him from his wife. In his dream Jack stares at the now closed door. Jack sees a small window in the door and leans forward to look in the bedroom. He sees his wife lying on the bed, writhing as her hands play between her legs. He reaches down to grab the doorknob, but there isn't one. He watches through the window as a man walks into view and climbs into bed with his wife. He slams his hands into the door and yells, but his wife can't hear him. She turns to the stranger and leans forward to kiss him.



The goblin releases Jack's head. It cackles softly to itself and slaps Jack lightly on the cheek. Then, it stares at the boy, unable to know what Danny is dreaming about. It can't interfere with the boy directly. The boy is his link to this world and he cannot hurt the boy. It must create terror around the boy to keep the link strong.



It turns from the bed and quietly walks out of the room. It toddles down the hallway, sliding a hand along the wall. The light from the master bedroom shines into the hallway. The goblin approaches the lit doorway slowly, its eyes squinting against the light. It slides against the wall beside the doorway and tilts its head towards the room. It listens attentively and hears Cindy breathing heavily in her sleep. It peers into the room, the bright light almost blinding it. It can barely see her, stretched out, lying on the bed, and Ginsburg lying beside her, staring at it. The goblin reaches its hand inside the doorway, finds the light switch and turns off the light.



As the light flips off, Ginsburg jumps off the bed, and creeps towards the door, baring its teeth. The goblin steps into the doorway and faces the approaching dog. The dog growls deeply and arches its back. The goblin waves a hand in front of it, crouches down, and takes a step towards the dog. As the dog is about to bark the goblin springs forward and wraps a hand around the dog's snout. Ginsburg tries to snap his head away, but the goblin encircles the dog's head with its other arm. The dog struggles for a second, but then settles down as the goblin calms him. As the dog relaxes in its grip, the goblin slowly begins to release him. It steps away from the dog and then points at him. Ginsburg sits on the floor, waiting for the next command. The goblin listens to the woman, hearing that she's still deeply asleep. It points under the bed and Ginsburg crouches down to crawl under the bed.



Once the dog is out of sight, the goblin ambles to the side of the bed next to Cindy. It stares at her half naked body. She's lying on the bed, the chemise pushed up high on her thighs and her arms placed above her head. The covers are still bunched at the bottom of the bed. She lied in bed waiting for her husband to return. She rubbed her wet pussy, sliding her fingers between the folds, along her clitoris, and then down inside of her. She spread her legs wide, pleasuring herself, but denying the release as she waited for Jack. Eventually, tired and frustrated, she sank into the bed and fell asleep. The goblin watches her breasts rise and fall as she breathes. It reaches its clawed hand out to her head and places it on her forehead.



She's dreaming of Jack, having returned from Danny's room, and continuing where he left off. His head is between her thighs, his tongue flipping her clitoris, her legs wrapped around him as each lick of his tongue makes her body twitch against him. The goblin replaces Jack with a dark stranger, an unknown shape with only a tongue and a penis. The shape lifts its tongue from her pussy and moves up her body. The goblin removes its hand from her head. Its long, split tongue slips from its mouth and slides along its upper lip. It rubs its gnarled hands together as it watches her body move subtly and a soft moan escapes her mouth.



The goblin reaches down to the fur covering its crotch. It twists the fur to the side revealing its genitalia. It grabs its knobbed penis and strokes it as it watches the woman dream. Its cock stretches out to nine inches long, the head bulging out twice the width of its wide shaft. Its other hand reaches out and caresses her breast through the slim chemise. Cindy groans in her sleep when it pinches her nipple. Drool drips from the goblin's mouth and falls on her chest.



The goblin releases her breast and waddles to the foot of the bed. It climbs onto the bed. It crouches between her feet and slowly crawls up between her legs, groaning to itself in anticipation. The goblin grabs her legs and lifts them from the bed. It squirms its knees under her thighs and sits back on its calves as it drapes her legs over its scaly thighs.



It grabs its protuberant member and rubs the large head against her pussy lips wiping the moisture across the tip. She moans softly in her sleep. It places the head against her opening and pushes its hips forward. The large head presses into her, stretching her open. The goblin reaches an arm under her butt and tilts her hips up slightly. It leans its body forward and the head pops into her. The goblin groans ecstatically as his engorged penis slides inside of her, feeling her tight, wet cunt clenching his hard cock.



Cindy whimpers as the bulging head moves into her, stretching her vagina. Her pussy lips slide along the goblin's shaft as it moves its hips forward. It reaches its other hand around her other butt and lifts her hips up off of the bed. It sits up on its knees with Cindy's pelvis held in the air. It slides out of her slowly and pushes back in watching its scaly shaft sink into her until its hips press against her pelvis with its cock buried completely inside of her. Saliva drips from its mouth and falls on her bare thigh.



The goblin grasps its clawed hands into the meat of her butt and thrusts into her. In her dream, Cindy sees a dark shape between her legs, holding her in the air, plunging its cock into her.



"Yes, oh, yes," she moans. The goblin watches her face turned upwards in ecstasy, her mouth open as she pants in her sleep. It moves in and out of her, the bulbous head mashing into her deeply, then sliding back out along her vaginal walls, pressing against her g-spot, and then driving back into her. The bed shakes underneath their bodies as the goblin's rough hips slap against her smooth thighs making the bedsprings squeak and the headboard thump softly against the wall.



She grunts each time the goblin's cock head slams into the back of her vagina. The goblin begins to imitate her, grunting in unison. It watches her body jolted forward each time it thrusts into her. Her breasts jiggle under the chemise. Her hips rise slightly as the engorged cock head presses up and into her. The goblin increases the rhythm, pounding into her, her wet cunt sliding along his scaly, green shaft. It drops her hips to the bed and lower its body slightly over her, holding itself upright with its hands clawing into the mattress beside her waist.



Cindy begins to wake from her dream as the goblin pummels her tight cunt, driven awake by an erotic combination of pleasure and pain. She feels the large cock head pressing against her vaginal muscles, stretching her pussy. She moves her hips with the motion enjoying the feel of the member as it slides inside of her. Her eyes begin to open as she shakes the dream from her sleepy head. The goblin sees her body stirring as she wakes. It starts to move very quickly, slamming his cock into her. She hears the sounds of her wet cunt sliding along the moving shaft, the rough smack of the goblin's tough hide slapping against her thighs and pelvis, her own moans as the goblin's cock head rubs against her g-spot, the bed squeaking underneath them, and the goblin's grunts as he pushes frantically towards the conclusion.



She sees a small form propped above her, its hips plunging between her legs as her hips rise to meet each thrust. The cock sinks into her, moving faster, and her body pulls tightly against it, willing it further into her. Her eyes open wider as the dream evaporates. She sees the shape of the goblin's head moving above her, the ears sticking out at sharp points and the long nose bobbing above her. She feels the fur hanging from the goblin's waist rubbing against her thighs as the creature thrusts its hips against her.



The goblin plunges into her deeply and cum shoots from the tip of its engorged cock. Cindy screams in fear. Her hands push at the goblin's shoulders. The goblin pulls its cock from her, squirting its yellow semen on her body and face. She pulls her legs up to her body and twists away to the other side of the bed. The goblin drops from the bed, the sticky cum spurting onto the carpet as it dives under the bed.



Cindy yells, "Jack! Jack! Help!" She screams piercingly loud, feeling the semen seeping from her cunt and sticking to her face, arms, and legs. Jack jolts awake from his nightmare and clumsily gets to his feet, alarmed. The goblin scrambles under the bed, nudging Ginsburg aside, and moving into the shadows against the wall, as a line of semen trails behind it.



Jack stumbles down the hallway, shaking himself awake. "Cindy!" he yells, groping his way along the wall. Cindy screams again, curled into a ball against the headboard. Jack staggers into the bedroom and switches on the bedroom light. He sees his wife pressed against the headboard, her eyes wide with fear, and shiny globs of yellow fluid dripping from her hair. The goblin disappears into the shadows under the bed as light floods the bedroom.



"What the hell!" Jack yells, as he stands dumbfounded, remembering his nightmare, seeing Cindy making love to a man in their bedroom as he watched from the window, locked outside of the room.



"There was a monster in here. It's under the bed," she stutters. Jack looks at her body twisted against the headboard, her bare legs bent tight to her chest, and sees more yellow globs stuck to her legs and on the bed sheets. He slowly moves into the room.



"What?" he asks, "What the hell are you yelling about?"



"It's under the bed. It was in here. It was..." she says and presses her hands to her face as tears start to drip from her eyes. She feels the sticky fluid on her face and pulls her hands back in disgust.



Jack approaches the bed and kneels down on the ground. He lifts the skirting along the bottom of the bed and peers under the bed. He sees Ginsburg lying on the floor, bent between his legs, licking his penis. The goblin peers at him from the shadows, invisible, a clawed hand wrapped around its mouth as it holds back the laughter. He looks around more, looking for anything else, but only sees small drips of the yellow liquid leading under the bed to the dog. He stands back up and looks down at the bed. More drops of the thick yellow liquid are scattered on the bed. He moves to the foot of the bed and looks up at his wife. With her legs pressed tightly against her as she cries, he looks at her wide, wet, freshly fucked cunt, and sees the liquid seeping down to the sheets.



"What the fuck did you do?" he yells. She stares back at him, shocked.



"It's under the bed. The thing is under the bed!" she screams.



"The only thing under the bed is Ginsburg!" he yells back.



"Ginsburg?" she yells back. She drops her head over the side of the bed, lifts the bed skirt, and looks under the bed. All she sees is Ginsburg, his back to her, looking like he's cleaning his genitalia. She twists her head around looking for anything but sees nothing else. She sits back up.



Jack is hovering over her, angry, his hands crosses at his chest. "You fucked the dog?" he spits at her.



"No. I..." she stumbles. She remembers the monster, with its long ears and long nose, the feel of the fur against her thighs, and its penis with the large knob. "No, I couldn't..." she starts, looking down at the bed.



"I can't believe I leave to take care of Danny and you fuck the dog!" Jack yells loudly, the anger from the dream now combined with the thought of his wife fucking their new dog. He's enraged. He's disgusted. How could he ever touch her again? The goblin recedes from this world before its croaking laughter can break from its mouth.



Danny lies in his bed, curled into a ball on his side, his thumb stuck in his mouth. His parents are fighting and fighting louder than before. He's frightened as his dad yells and his mom cries. He hears his name in the stream of obscenities. He wishes they would stop. He pushes his hands against his ears, trying to drive the screams away, wishing he could get away, get far away and not be afraid.

I made my first mistake when I volunteered to hike with Simon and Luke. Big Sur is a beautiful place, but it's wild. People tend to forget. With state-of-the-art gear and all the arrogant baggage that goes with 21st century conventional wisdom, we step out of our depth when we step into the wild.



I broke a leg a few years back. They pinned it, but it's never been the same. It's just in the past few months that I've felt confident enough to do any serious walking on it. So when Luke mentioned that they were going on a hike by Ventana wilderness, I asked to tag along--proving once again that there are no victims, only volunteers.



I brought my Camelback and CD player. The Camelback was a necessity, since some of the creel amd spring water is not potable. The CD was there in case Luke decided to start singing. He's a sweetheart, but he can't carry a tune in a bucket. He's especially fond of 50's pop music. Believe me, hearing Mockingbird Hill or Canadian Sunset five times in thirty minutes would frighten the condors into extinction.



My second mistake was expecting Simon to take my bum leg into consideration. You'd think we were trying to beat the rush hour hiking trail traffic. He's built like a bear, but he can move like a manic gazelle when the mood strikes him. I kept falling behind. Luke would stop and wait for me. We'd both have to holler at Simon to get him to slow down. It worked, occasionally.



We were halfway up the ridge by noon. The plan was to make the crest, stop for a picnic lunch and hike back down. But there's an old saying, men plan, the gods laugh. The Santa Lucias had caught the high fog and trapped it. The forest dripped and the sun shone milky and cold through the treetops. We'd dressed for warm weather. I'd worn my waterproof hiking boots, so I was better off than Luke in his Nikes and Simon in his designer walking sandals.



We came to a switch back. The trail split into a "Y". None of us had a map, and someone had defaced the trail head markers so that they were illegible. Luke shook his finger at the graffiti and Simon frowned.



"Now what, gentlemen?"



"How the hell should I know!"



"I thought you'd hiked here before, Sy."



He scowled.



"Not since they graded it after the fire."



Luke shrugged and shifted his day pack on his shoulders.



"Let's flip a coin."



Simon shot an evil glance at him.



"Let's not."



"Thanks for asking my advice, guys."



They both stared at me.



"We're all ears, Miss Marple."



I flipped Simon off and sat down on a rock by the signs.



"It just seems like we need to take the high road. Maybe it'll take us out of the fog."



Luke looked up suddenly.



"Do you hear that?"



"Hear what?"



"There was bird song all the way up until we hit the fog. It shouldn't be so quiet at midday."



Simon rolled his eyes.



"Mr. Audubon speaks."



"I'm serious."



"He's right, Sy. And this is summer. We should have passed other people on this path."



"Whatever. I'd say take the high road, but you've been limping for the past half hour."



"It's all right. I just need to take it easy. The damp aggravates the pin in my leg."



"Maybe we should have just gone to Point Lobos."



"Maybe we should have just gone to Point Lobos. Jeez, Luke, she knew this was a real hike. Didn't you Kay?"



I was remembering why I didn't spend much quality time with Sy.



"Why don't you two pick a path and go ahead. I'll catch up with you in a bit."



Simon grunted and adjusted his pack. Luke smiled halfheartedly.



"Let's take the high road. Do you have a watch, Kay?"



"Yeah."



Simon looked at his wristwatch.



"It's 12:20 now. If you don't catch up with us in 30 minutes, Luke will come looking for you. Do you have your cell phone with you?"



I pulled it out and flipped it open.



"No signal up here."



"Figures. Well, we'll see you in a bit."



Simon turned and started up the trail. Luke patted my shoulder and handed me a Cliff bar.



"Just in case you get hungry."



"Thanks."



"Toodles."



He trotted off after Simon, whistling Lazy Days of Summer--off-key, of course. I contemplated the Cliff bar and decided that I wasn't that hungry, not yet. I took a sip from my Camelback and shifted on the rock. The fog was getting denser and it was starting to mist.



I flexed my ankle and put off getting up for a few more minutes. Luke was right about the silence. There were usually scrub jays and woodpeckers this time of year. It was eerie. I stood up and stretched. The leg still ached, but I couldn't let them get too far ahead.



I started up the trail. I walked for about ten minutes when I came to another "Y" with defaced trail head posts. I groaned out loud and tried to find footprints. It was drizzling. Little rivulets of water had washed any tracks that might have been visible away. I looked at my pocket watch. It was 12:40. I wound it and put it away. Luke wouldn't come back for another ten minutes. There was no place to sit and wait. It was beginning to really rain.



I walked a few yards down the left fork. It ran toward a clearing that looked like it may have been burned out during the big fire a few seasons back. It was almost a perfect ring with a hollowed out redwood growing in the center. The trees formed a canopy around it. It looked drier than standing out in the rain waiting for Luke. I pulled an old receipt and a pen out of my jeans pocket and wrote a note for him. I set it under a rock on the trail head post and walked back to the clearing to wait.



I found a place to sit on a fallen log. The atmosphere was still and hushed, like some living cathedral. The mist was so thick that I couldn't see the trail from where I sat. I was able to put my leg up, which helped a bit. An owl hooted. It startled me a bit. It was the first sound I'd heard since we'd entered the woods at midmorning. I smiled and hooted back. I instantly realized that it was a mistake. The forest got even quieter than before. I fidgeted a bit.



"You shouldn't be alone out here, Miss."



I nearly fell off the log. A man stepped out of the mist. He was tall, lean and a little on the shaggy side. I'd never seen eyes that color of green before. They were nearly topaz. I stifled the urge to panic and stood up slowly.



"I'm not, actually. My friends will be along any minute."



"You don't sound too sure about that."



He grinned. He had perfect white teeth. He started to approach me. I shook my head and backed away a little. His expression softened. He held out his hands, palms up.



"I don't bite."



I laughed nervously.



"I don't suppose you have references."



"None local, at the moment. My name is Jan."



He held out his hand. I hesitated for a moment before I offered him mine. His palms were calloused hard. His fingers were long and thin. His hand dwarfed mine.



"I thought you were a deer, at first."



"Nope. No Bambis here."



He chuckled. He shook his long gray hair over his shoulders and stroked his close-cropped beard.



"What's your name?"



"Kay. And my friends really are waiting for me. I came into the clearing to get out of the rain. It was sunny down at the Nepenthe."



He nodded and peered through the trees at the sky.



"The weather has a mind of her own here. Not many people come this way, anymore."



"I'm surprised. Big Sur is usually overrun this time of year."



He chuckled again.



"I've lived here for a long time. Tourists have never been a problem in this part of the woods."



"Well, I should go back out to the trail head. Luke should be along any minute now."



I pulled out my watch and checked the time. It had stopped at 12:43.



"Damn! My watch stopped. I really do have to go back. They'll have the rangers out scouring the trails for me."



"I seriously doubt that, Kay."



His eyes gleamed for a moment. I felt a chill and looked over my shoulder toward the trail. The fog had closed like a curtain. I wasn't even sure if I was looking in the right direction. Jan must have sensed that, because he watched me with concern.



"If you're not sure of your way, you could get lost easily. There are wild things in this forest. Why don't you come with me for a little while. I just put a stew on the stove. My cabin's not far. You'll be safe with me."



I sighed and slumped my shoulders. I was chilled to the bone and damp. The Cliff bar sounded even less appetizing than before. He spoke gently. I really didn't have much choice. If I got lost and the weather didn't break, I would never find my way back.



"Just for a little while, then."



He smiled.



"Follow me."



He walked ahead a few yards. We stepped out of the clearing and onto a game trail that wound between the trees toward the sound of rushing water. He waited at the creek and helped me walk across and fallen tree to the other side. We came to his cabin in a few minutes. Smoke curled from a stovepipe chimney. It was made of rough logs, with a small porch, a Dutch door and oil paper windows.



He stood beside the stairs and made a gesture for me to go first. He followed me up and got the door for me. I could smell something cooking. A kettle bubbled on the wood stove. A fire crackled in a stone hearth. The room was Spartan. A crossbow and quiver hung by the fireplace. There were two sitting chairs, a double bed and a kitchen table with stools. Clothes hung on pegs by the foot of the bed. There was a cupboard to the left of the stove with enameled plates and bowls, like the stuff they sold at REI. He stirred the pot with a ladle and took two bowls from the shelf. He took a loaf of bread from a bread box on the table and cut off a couple of thick slices.



"Please, sit down."



I took a seat at the table. He ladled me a bowl of stew and set it in front of me. He got a tin spoon from the cupboard and handed it to me. I took a spoonful of the broth and sipped it.



"It's good."



"Hunting's been good this season. I've been able to make enough pemmican to get me through the lean months. I found some wild garlic and sage for seasoning."



I finished the bowl quickly. I hadn't realized how hungry I was. He brought me a mug of water. He watched as I ate, but didn't join me at the table.



"Aren't you hungry?"



"Not at the moment. Besides, a cook always appreciates it when his creations are well-received."



I mopped up the gravy with my bread and drank my water. I felt tired. My leg was throbbing from the damp. I started to stand up, but had to grab the table to steady myself.



"Whoa!"



He rushed to my side and took my arm.



"Come sit by the fire. You need to rest. You walked a lot farther than you know, Kay."



He helped me to a chair. He threw some more wood on the fire and put a blanket over my lap. I was dizzy and disoriented. I stared at the flames and yawned.



"Aren't the flames beautiful? You can see anything you want, if you look hard enough."



His voice was quiet, yet commanding. I watched them flicker and dance. The dizziness became a dream state. I sank back in the chair and sighed.



"Look at me, Kay. Tell me what you see."



He had dropped down on his haunches in front of me, so that we were at eye level. His eyes glittered like the fire. It had to be a trick of the light.



"Your eyes are like jewels. Like amber or topaz. Beautiful."



"What else do you see, little one?"



His voice was warm and melodious. I tried to reach out to touch his cheek, but I couldn't raise my hand. I sighed.



"I see hunger. I see need and desire."



"Then you see yourself there, Kay."



I swallowed hard and tried to wake up. He stroked my cheek and hushed me.



"Close your eyes."



My eyelids drooped. I knew I should be afraid, but it was pointless. I felt him lift me up and carry me to the bed. He hummed softly in my ear. I felt his breath on my neck and shivered. His mouth was close enough to my skin to feel it curve into a smile. He stroked my hair. I felt him doing something with my clothes. Then he kissed my wrists, tied them and pulled my arms above my head.



"Are you happy, little one?"



I nodded lazily and smiled.



"So am I."



I felt his breath on my breasts and long sharp fingernails running the length of my torso to my hips. I moaned. His beard brushed against my nipples. His mouth closed over my right breast. His teeth pierced the flesh gently as he suckled.



"You're as lovely as any doe I've ever hunted, Kay."



For some reason, it pleased me enormously that he said this. I felt those sharp nails tease me, the fingers probing my sex insistently. I gasped. He chuckled like he had in the clearing. He crawled into bed beside me, naked and warm. I felt his erection pushing against my side. I tried to open my eyes, but it was useless. I struggled weakly against the leather thongs that bound my wrists to the bed frame.



"That's it, Kay. Don't surrender quite yet."



He was sniffing between my legs, nipping at the flesh on my inner thighs. My whole body tingled with excitement, especially the palms of my hands. I more than wanted him. I was born for this. I squirmed a little. My feet were bound. Fear rose up again. He stroked my body and kissed my sex deeply. Something primal and wild obliterated my fright. I growled softly and sank into his desire. He climbed on top of me and buried himself deeply with a single thrust. A howl shook the rafters. I felt his breath in my ear. He whispered softly.



"Your friends were delicious, weren't they? We mate for life, you know."

I received the life insurance payments last year.



My wife had died, struck down by a drunk driver. I'm not sure how I was able to continue living those nine months, but I know that the struggle was on breathing and moving and trying to avoid the crushing grief that welled up in pitiful sobs that made the struggle to breathe even more difficult.



We had maintained double policies on each of us as a plan for either of us to be self-sufficient in the event the other died. Some people might think three-quarters of a million dollars worth getting rid of your spouse, but for us, this was a matter of family concern. Sure, the expense took a good portion of what we would have saved, but the payoff gave me the bitter present of affording what we had dreamed of, together.



We had wanted to retire to a forgotten town where the real estate was cheap and the people few. Many people dream of big things; we dreamt of comfort and relaxation. Annette had agreed that a dying town would give us the peace and quiet that the big city never could. So with a full bank account, I went to fulfill our dreams.



Really, I think I came here to die.



The real estate lady was pleasant, and murmured her apologies for my loss. She showed me several homes that could not raise my interest. I didn't care for the small-town interest in the oak fad that had gone out of style in the early 1980s. I was shown a few homes where she bubbled over with high expectations, twirling in the living room and presenting me a view of an entertainment center.



Was I supposed to be impressed with someone else's particle-board laminated piece of furniture?



Out of frustration, I settled on a narrow two-story house that was overgrown with vegetation. Well, maybe I didn't settle. This house I sit in right now is what Annette would have picked, I am sure. Would she have considered it our dream house? No, not at all, but with what there was to choose from, this would have been it.



The first time I saw the house, pulling up in the agent's car, I was drawn to its loneliness. While there were houses on either side, the vegetation choked it so that only a small path through the waist-high iron gate allowed access. It was old; all the houses here are old. But I saw a kinship with my soul that had me choosing the house before I stepped foot in it. I know that sounds like something meant for a tale, but it's true, that's how it happened.



A funny smell assaulted me when I entered. A sickly sweet smell that reminded me of natural gas or very old pet stains. It was laid out in a jumble, not like the newer homes built in subdivisions where the floor plan has been survey-tested by a million people. Of course, in 1910, I doubt anyone took surveys on where they wanted their bedrooms.



The second floor held two bedrooms that I would never use. Fortunately, there was a door to the second floor stairwell that looked like a closet. I went up there when I bought the place. The door has remained closed, since.



The furnace and water heater were down in the basement. I did not like the basement.



My aversion to it wasn't due to any safety issue. The basement was fully enclosed with no exterior exits or windows. No, what I didn't like about it was what was down there. A clump of soiled sheets were left in one corner of the main basement. Back around the stairs was a wooden wall separating a small portion of the basement with a crude door set in the center. Don't ask me why there is a crude door on a strange wooden wall down in my basement. I couldn't tell you.



There is a latch on the wooden door and on first glance I got the impression it was meant to keep someone in. In that small room is a square iron door, about three feet off the ground, set into the cement of the back wall. It reminded me of an old furnace door, or the hatch to a crypt. The door was about the size of a coffin. I especially didn't like that door. The brainless agent just walked right up to it and opened it. The rusty squeal hurt my ears but I moved forward to see inside.



Apparently, someone had used it to burn something. Ashes filled the bottom of the crawl space. I did not like it. Just looking into the darkness of that space made me dizzy. I turned away and made my way up the stairs.



I knew that I would not be using the basement, so the strange area would not have to concern me. I took the house.



That was three months ago. Now, more than ever, I feel I am here to die.



My neighbors are old or quiet. During the daylight hours, I occasionally hear the sounds of life outside, and I am encouraged that mankind is the pinnacle of the food chain. I comfort myself with the knowledge that science explains everything and that smart-looking eggheads tell me on TV with a wag of their heads that there are no such things as ghosts. Yes, during the daylight, I am sure nothing hides in the shadows of my home.



The movers brought our belongings and stacked them around the house. I left the boxes where they were first set. I only dig into them if I need something. The memories of her things assault me in ways I cannot deal with. All I cared about was setting up my computer and TV. During the day I try to forget my grief by doing things on the computer. The TV is a disappointment here. Even with cable, there is some kind of interference that distorts the picture. It appears to me as if another channel is coming through behind whatever channel I'm on. Reminds me of a bad antenna. It's really bad at night. I can see shapes of people coming through and it distracts me from what I'm watching.



At first I was leaving the TV on because I started having nightmares, but after a few times waking up in a panic, I started turning off the TV before I tried to go to sleep. The last few times it appeared as if someone was close up on the screen and looking at me in that channel behind the cable feed. It was very unnerving.



My nightmares were another story.



Maybe some other person wouldn't call these nightmares. I remember the first one, clearly. I was almost asleep, and beginning to wander in those random thoughts and visions that are typical just before total sleep. The air was cool in the bedroom and the TV was off. A tiny shred of light came from the street lamp outside. How it got through all the vegetation and the cheap blinds, I don't know.



I felt her then. A woman. I wasn't sure I was seeing her or dreaming her, but she had very dark hair, curly and soft. For a brief second, I thought it was Annette. But Annette had been short and skinny. This woman was tall. Her curves oozed sensuality. She was wearing a black lace bra and panties. She wore black stockings supported by black garters. She leaned close over me and my nostrils filled with her scent. Jasmine, yes. Sometimes I think lilac, but it was definitely jasmine.



As she leaned over me, I moaned and turned slightly. I wanted to feel her. Annette melted from my mind and an ache grew within me that spoke of forgotten longing. My arms wanted to reach up. My back began to arch, and then I awoke. To nothing. The tears came then and I think I was at my closest to death. The misery was so sharp and painful that death would certainly have been a release.



There was nothing left for me. I had nothing to look forward to. We had not had time to have children, and living here pretending to be fulfilling our dreams was the cruelest of jokes. We thought we had been smart having those double life policies on each other, but we had been fools.



By day, as days turned into weeks, I would sit at my computer, scanning the news, reading about history and science. I would watch the day dim from my seat through the one window with the open blinds. Even the open blinds were a cruel joke in this house. I could let the light in all I wanted, but the windows couldn't be opened. Over the decades, people had painted so many coats of paint that not a single window in the house would open. All I could let in was the light. But even that didn't last.



Every day I would sit and experience the loss of light, until I was sitting in the dark. The only light came from my monitor. Then the house was all shadow. At least the front room also took light from the streetlamp outside, more so than the bedroom next to it behind all the vegetation.



At night, when it was dark, I would hear things. Usually, these would be outdoor sounds. I kept hearing someone walking outside my front door on the porch. But when I would look, no one would be there. Science tells me that such noises must have been the contraction of the porch as the cool settled in for the night. Same with the wall heater behind me. Strange noises would filter up through the heater from the basement, but I know that can all be explained away, too. At least I never heard noises from the second floor. Science could even explain the bizarre occurrences with my TV each night. Without any warning, my TV would turn itself on every night at 2:27 am. Surely, someone was just getting home from a bar and sitting down to turn on the TV across the street or something. My TV was obviously on the same frequency. Of course, the house across the street was vacant, and had been unlived in for years. Someone had a super remote, somewhere.



My nightmares became disturbing and frequent, but I would forget most of them each time. When I was having them, though, I would remember. She would come to me after I had gotten into bed and started to drift off. I learned to wait until 2:30am before going to bed. I would go into the bedroom, turn off the TV with the strange second-channel apparitions looking at me, and settle down to sleep. No use going to bed before 2:27 when the TV would pop on with static and noise.



She would come in as I tossed fitfully. I would kick at the sheets and push at my pillow. I would feel the bed sink at my feet and I would grow still. I knew better than to waste my time to turn on the light - no one would be there. But the bed would shift and move as if someone - her - was climbing over me. Sometimes I would see her in her black lingerie. Sometimes I could smell her jasmine fragrance. Each time, I would sigh and feel the stir of an erection. My thighs would clench with an aching need and her perfume would make me dizzy and delirious.



The first time was wonderful. She pulled back the sheets and pulled my underwear down. Her mouth was cool velvet as she slid her lips down my aching member. My moans grew feverish as she worked my erection with the most sensual blowjob I have ever had. The feel of her tongue and the cool air on the wet parts of my shaft ran tickles of lust up and down my extremities. Her hair brushed my thighs and my gasps became labored.



But each time after that, I would become filled, not with passion and the need to cum, but with dread.



The anniversary of Annette's death was nothing to be celebrated. All day long I cried. I finally unpacked her picture and set it on the box next to my bed. Exhausted, I went to bed early and was awakened at 2:27 by the TV. I awoke in terror of some unseen thing, but realized it was the stupid TV. I fumbled for the remote and tried to hit the power button. For some reason, I kept hitting the volume. The static hiss rose and rose as I frantically mashed the power button. With a curse, I got out of bed and went to turn on the light.



Turning back to the TV with the remote firmly in hand and my finger on the red power button, I froze. There was a face looking at me in that channel distortion. It filled the screen. I noted that I could see eyes, this time, before my finger bruised itself on the power button. Adrenaline pumped through me and sweat broke out on my face.



I went into the small bathroom and washed my face to calm myself. I looked pretty bad in the mirror. Back in the bedroom, I gave one small fleeting glance at Annette's picture on the box by the bed. It was enough to cause me to double over in grief. The grief had lessened over time, but sometimes it came back, really hard. Tonight was bad.



Back in bed, I started to drift off again. But a sense of longing and dread filled me as the scent of jasmine filled my nose. The foot of the bed sunk and I moaned in need. Reaching blindly, I flung back the sheets to reveal my nakedness. I had stopped wearing underwear to bed a few weeks back. Her mouth descended on my throbbing shaft and I moaned in relief. Up and down, her head moved over my aching shaft, bringing pleasure and increasing the frustration within me.



Without conscious thought, I realized I had reached over and placed Annette's picture face down.



The woman in black lingerie removed her mouth and shifted around on the bed. Something black and lacy hung in front of my face. Her panties. I moaned in encouragement as she positioned herself over me. I could see her very feminine hips and her naked vagina poised over my straining shaft. I wanted to sink it into her so bad, to feel her warmth and to shoot my sperm deep into her. My hands reached for her hips. I could feel her soft skin and the garters.



Her hips lowered until I felt her wetness touch the head of my penis. She teased me there, for a moment, until I was moaning loudly in the darkness. I wanted to fuck her so bad. I wanted to feel what I had been missing this past year. With a deliberate push downwards, the woman sank herself onto my painful erection. Her heat burned down onto me as she fucked downwards.



A loud cry escaped me that was a mixture of pleasure and grief. Tears streamed down the sides of my head as the woman seemed to know exactly how to screw to please me. Her vaginal canal was hot and welcoming. It gripped my penis perfectly from top to bottom and milked it with convulsing spasms. She went from tip to root in eager motions. I could not believe how deep I was getting.



My orgasm built like the ascent of a roller coaster - slow, but powerful. I remembered my orgasms being faster in the build-up. This was agonizing. It kept building and building, the pressure on my insides getting worse by the second. The need to blast my sperm into her almost made me physically ill. She mashed her pussy down over my penis and her inner canal started making milking motions. The tickle to cum became pain and my breathing became labored. Spots swam before my eyes and then the sperm exploded out of me and deep into her. I could feel the long squirts as convulsions swept over me. I teetered on the edge of what I don't know as my orgasm and ejaculation continued until my balls literally hurt with the act of pushing sperm.



I was drained, spent, wasted. I felt as if my limbs were made of lead. But the woman wasn't done. she pulled off and knelt over me, her mouth descending on my numb member. My world was spinning and I felt as if I were off-balance. She stroked her mouth over me a few times, and then I felt something I had never felt from her. Her teeth raked my shaft and sent shivers up my body. But then, needle-like teeth sank into my penis and pain ripped through me.



With a shriek of pain, I leapt out of bed. The sound of rustling leather swept from the bed and I heard a strange giggle. I ignored all that. I was in the bathroom, quivering in pain. I flicked on the light and looked down to see a bloody mess. There were holes around the middle of my shaft, oozing blood.



"No!" This couldn't be happening. Not the way I thought. I had done this to myself, surely. I had masturbated myself and then dug holes with my fingernails. Happens all the time on those shows where science debunks these kinds of things. I looked at my hand; it was bloody. So I had done it to myself.



But then I saw that my fingernails had no blood in them.



"Must be psychosomatic," I told myself, mimicking the scientist debunkers.



A sound drifted up from the vent in the bathroom that sent chills up my spine. A giggle, then a metallic squeal, followed by a firm clanging sound.



Dread filled me. The only thing that could make that sound was the weird iron door in the basement.



"No way," I said in a shaking voice. "No way!"



I walked on unsteady legs into the bedroom.



"No way!" I shouted. Anger lapped at the edges of the fear. I could not accept what I knew to be unreal. I shrugged into my pants as fast as I could, but gingerly when it came to covering my bloody penis.



I went from room to room turning on all the lights. The house was empty except for me and the boxes. My anger grew and my certainty that my minds was at fault. I knew I had to face my fear.



"There's nothing here." I approached the door to the basement. "Nothing."



I unlatched the door and looked down the steps as the fear welled back up inside me. The only way to defeat the fear was to expose it, face it, and realize it was all in my mind. I had to do this.



Despite the waves of fear coming at me, I firmly stepped down the stairs. I almost ran down them. My skin crawled as I called out to the basement, "there is nothing here!"



At the foot of the stairs, I reached up and pulled the light string. Light pushed at the darkness in the basement. I repeated my claim with a gasping voice. The light swung above me. The only thing down here was the discarded sheet in the corner.



I walked over to it in anger and kicked it several times. I pulled at it with my foot and scraped it away from the wall.



"See? Nothing here!" I gritted through clenched teeth. The sheet was old and soiled. Curious brown stains blotted it in areas.



Blood?



A tapping behind me turned me around. The heater? I was facing the strange wooden door. It was closed. I did not remember ever closing it. Panic welled back up in me in a constant fight against my anger. Spots swam before my eyes. I was having trouble breathing.



No! I was going to show myself there was no reason to fear. There were no ghosts in this house; I didn't believe in them. Science had proven them to be phoney, over and over again. I strode to the wooden door and flung it open as I repeated to myself in a loud voice that nothing was there.



The room was empty, except for the iron door.



"See?" I asked myself as my scalp literally crawled. "Nothing."



Yet the fear still assaulted me as I knew I would have to open the iron door to finish it. I forced myself forward. Laughter wanted to bubble out of me. I was on the edge of hysteria.



"Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!" I wheezed as fear choked my throat. My vision pulsed with the racing of my heart. I hauled on the iron door and pulled it open on protesting hinges.



My eyes rolled in my head as I thrust my head into the opening and croaked, "nothing!"



Only ashes lay in that space. The darkness in the back seemed to laugh at me. The fear was not gone. The light couldn't reach far enough to expose the back wall, but I could see it dimly. To touch that wall would mean I had reached the limit of my fear and confronted it. I would know then that there was truly nothing here but unfounded fear. I clambered up into the hole, trying to scream, trying to breathe, desperate to end this. Ashes puffed up as I crawled. I reached a hand to the wall and I could feel something all around me.



My hand made contact with that shadowed wall. "Nothing..."



The iron door slammed shut with inhuman force and darkness smothered me