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Subject: {Bombadil}JDR"The Masks B"( caution )[2/2]
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JOHN DARK REPOST
The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story
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The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming
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These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of
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=====================
The Masks - A Horror Story ( F/M F/F )
Short Story #3
by Tom Bombadil (c) Oct 1996
Disclaimer: All the standard rules apply. If you are offended
by explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is
illegal to possess such materials at your location, if you are
under-age by law in your location, or if somebody else thinks you
might have too much fun reading it, stop right now and remove this
text from your computer.
This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions
described by me coming straight out of my imagination. As a work
of fiction, it does not condone or condemn any of the activities
or actions described, nor does it relate to any type of real
events in my life, or known to me in the lives of any of my
friends or relatives.
You've been warned.
Author's note: Squeamish? Prone to nightmares? Afraid of strange
noises in the night? Maybe you'd better try a different story.
This one is for those who like cold chills, shivers, and goosebumps,
as well as other things that rise up and get hard. It is not for
the faint of heart.
********************************************************************
=====================
The Masks
A Horror Story
by Tom Bombadil
Via: stbush@iglou.com
Section B:
John heard noises, the sounds of a door, voices from above. (It's
gonna happen. They've got someone else.) He felt guilty about
being happy, but still the relief of knowing his time was almost
done brought out a few tears of joy. He knew what was in store for
the next guy, and the girl they probably had as well, but no longer
had enough emotion left to really care all that much.
He knew that even if he shouted as loud as he could, it would make
no difference. He'd shouted enough in the past when there were
noises, or voices, to be heard. It had taken him quite a while to
realize several hidden microphones were piping in the sounds from
elsewhere. His room was quite soundproof.
The sounds of sex were plain now, and he bent his head in silent
prayer.
********************************************************************
Wally was in heaven. He was lying flat out on the carpet, a
cushion under his head, a mouth suckling on his member, and the
taste of ambrosia in his mouth. His tongue was buried as far as he
could get it inside the crack of the blonde woman, and he was
licking up everything it could reach. There was no concern about
what he'd left there so recently, since it seemed to have
disappeared. Only the sweet juices oozing from her womanhood
crossed his lips. He was in heaven.
Both were now naked. She'd removed his shirt, the only bit of real
costume he'd worn, then allowed him to strip her bare. He couldn't
help but become aroused again while fondling all her abundant
charms, especially those ones topped by strawberry coloured little
nubbins. He'd fondled and caressed and squeezed and licked and
tasted them until her increasing moans, and the signals from below,
told him something else was in order. She'd taken control at that
point, sliding him onto the floor, then mounting his face.
After her third climax, but before she finished him off again, she
got up.
"I've got to go and get things set up in the playroom. You stay
here and watch for a while. I'll be back soon."
Too tired to really do much else, he looked to see what the other
two were doing. His girlfriend was on her knees in front of the
Contessa, who was standing with her legs spread wide, head thrown
back, mouth open, and a wild look on her face. The light glinted
off those fangs of hers. A crazy thought ran through his head.
(I wonder if she bites while kissing?) The teeth looked sharp
enough and real enough to make him wince.
Both women were naked, and Jennifer was very busy in between the
tall brunette's legs. He watched in awe as his girlfriend's actions
drove the other woman to her knees, then onto her back. He stopped
thinking again and just let the images flow into his brain when
the vampire lady pulled the redhead up from where she was kneeling,
into an embrace, and into some full-mouthed French kissing.
The sight of their bodies, one on top of the other, kept him near
his peak. Jennifer's skin was pale, all over, except for her face
and arms, but it was the normal pale pink colour of healthy,
untanned skin. That colour was dark compared to the pasty paleness
of the Contessa. She was a powdered white everywhere, except for
the tips of her breasts and the edges of her labia. The former was
a pale pink, and the latter a pale tan. She had no hair below her
neck to provide any relief for the glaring whiteness either. His
girlfriend's carrot tinted hair, both above and below, provided
the only real expanses of colour for either of the women.
********************************************************************
A noise at the door brought John back into his present. It was the
witch woman, the one who'd trapped him there a year ago. She was
carrying a number of items that he guessed were going to be used in
their sacrifice later. His sacrifice. And another's. The large
flat box he recognized. It was the same one she'd taken the last
guy's mask from. The long wave-bladed dagger with the black handle
he recognized. He didn't know why the gloves or the bucket full of
wet rags, but knew from experience he would learn and wish he'd
stayed ignorant. The pouch always contained something sinister.
She was naked, as usual, and unarmed, as usual, although that had
never made any difference in the past.
Leaving everything at the altar, she walked around and lit the
candelabra, one in each corner of the room, each holding five blood
red candles. Finally she walked up to him.
"How's my little pet doing tonight? Are you excited? Are you
thrilled to death?" She laughed at her own supposed joke. "You
soon will be, and it'll be so much fun! We don't have much time
left, so let's get a move on. I have to get you prepared."
With inhuman strength she pried open the bands holding him prisoner,
using nothing but her hands. He didn't try to run or resist, as he
knew she was much faster and stronger than him, even back when he
was still fresh. She'd proven that with her fun and games many
times. Rechained to the altar and unable to move, with his head
held still between two clamps, he was ready for their ritual.
His head rested on one end of the alter, his bottom on the other.
Both legs were pulled wide and his feet forced to the floor by the
tension of his bonds. Satisfied with her work, she reached down and
picked up the leather sack. From the pouch came a wad of leaves
coated in a greyish powder.
"Open wide. Chew on this for a while. After all, we wouldn't want
you to miss any of the fun. It'll keep you wide awake right to the
end. Oh, and it'll keep you up 'til then too, since tonight you'll
need to perform like never before. It'll be your greatest, and
last, performance. After this, you'll be nothing but a voyeur, just
like all the rest of my pets."
He ignored her words for the most part. He remembered the last
ritual vividly, so he didn't need her reminders. That he would
die he considered a given. He welcomed that. Anything else he
could bear, knowing what was coming. Even the pain.
After putting on the rubber gloves, she began to wrap him up in the
wet rags. His hands, arms, lower legs, feet, chest, and neck. She
pulled up his torso to slide some under his back and bottom. His
upper legs, crotch, lower torso, and face were left bare.
"These'll start to tickle after a while. Don't worry, it won't
last long. No, it'll change to pain!" She laughed again, then
picked up the bucket and left. He soon found that she'd spoken the
truth, as a slight tingling/itching sensation broke out on his neck,
echoed by a similar feeling on his chest. A moan broke out as he
anticipated what was to come.
********************************************************************
A hand snaking around his middle brought his mind back, or at least
some of it. With red lips attacking his face, two fleshy cushions
letting his hands wander freely, and a hot crotch pressing into
his manhood, his brain quickly got sidetracked again. It took only
a few moments for this beautiful woman, and his overheated thoughts,
to bring him back to life.
This time, the blonde turned him around and pulled him on top of
her in the classic position. She was still sopping wet, he noticed
as he slid home, bringing out a gasp from each of them. When he
looked up from their kiss, he saw that the other two had moved onto
the couch, only a few feet from where he and she were coupling on
the floor. The Contessa was sitting facing him, legs spread wide,
staring him in the eye. Jennifer was straddling her lap, knees on
the couch on either side of the taller woman's hips. Her head was
resting on the woman's shoulder, and Wally could sometimes see her
tongue licking at the woman's neck. Both arms were laying over
the back of the sofa, out of the way.
When a pair of hands grabbed his buttocks and began a rhythmic
pulling and pushing motion, he got the message and began stroking.
In his imagination, his tongue was also lapping at the two slits
positioned no more than a yard away. He watched the Contessa's
hands roam all over the body he knew so well, over the rounded
bottom, across the soft, muscular back, down the ribbed sides and
around the narrow waist. They roamed freely over the territory that
was once his exclusively. Her eyes stared at him, challenging, and
he pumped faster.
Amid the sounds of flesh slapping on flesh, his grunts, and the
squeals coming out from under him, he heard the familiar moans and
sighs of his girlfriend. She was ready for more, he knew, and knew
she would be getting it, if the look in the brunette's eye was what
he thought it was. As he watched, one of her hands snaked down
between their bodies, down to the redhead's slot. With one, then
two, and eventually three fingers, she stuffed Jennifer's crotch.
By then her hand held still, and his girlfriend's hips moved up and
down, seemingly independent of the rest of her body. Her head and
shoulders stayed quite still, regardless of the activity lower
down. The Contessa's eyes stared at him, challenging, and he
pumped harder.
With squeals and whimpers, both women approached climax. The
Contessa smiled at him, then opened her mouth wide to bare her
fangs. Moving very slowly, keeping her eyes on his, she lowered
her head to Jennifer's neck. With a twitch of her muscles, she
rolled the woman's head slightly, opening her completely to what
could happen. Her eyes were intent on his, and his were intent on
her fangs. He watched as one touched the skin, then broke through.
There was a brief pause in two sets of hips, then both resumed at
a more fevered pace.
Groans and moans from two women filled the room. A trickle of
blood, no more than a few drops, dark against the pale skin,
slid down her neck. A tongue snaked out and lapped up the thick,
sticky liquid. A pair of similarly coloured lips began to suck
at the wound. Three women squealed in climax. He lost it and
began to shoot, pushing himself as hard and as deep as possible.
Completely spent, he lay there, breathing hard, waiting for
strength, and maybe sanity, to return. A strong pair of arms rolled
him over onto his back, then to his feet, long before he felt strong
enough to stand. The blonde held him up and he wondered where she
found the energy.
"Time to go to the playroom, my pet."
Out into the hall, through a door, past some shelves, through
another door, and down some stairs she led him. What he saw looked
like a normal basement. Leading him over to a brick wall, she
stopped and let him sag down to the ground. He watched her reach
behind a shelf and pull something. With a slight squeak, a section
of the wall opened and he stared into a scene from his nightmares.
Babs grabbed his arm and dragged him, kicking and screaming, into
the altar room. He fought with all his strength, with muscles hard
from exercise and training, with joints toughened by running and
tackling, with the adrenaline-driven surge of power of his terror.
She took no notice of any of it, nor of his punches or kicks. She
almost pulled his arm off when he grabbed the doorframe, and he
lost skin from his palm and fingertips as well as his grip. With
a fanatical gleam in her eye, and calm, deliberate movements, she
soon had him shackled to the wall. After she pulled all the chains
tight, she stepped back and admired her prize.
He was spread-eagled against the wall, all the chains being snubbed
up tight to the staples there. She stood still and stared at him
for a while, watching him struggle helplessly.
"Oh, I'm going to like having you here. A brand new pet to play
with. There's so much for you to learn, so many things for us to
try. You'll love every second of it, I promise!"
It was hard for him to grasp the fact that this naked little woman
in front of him, one who still had his semen dribbling down her
thigh, had just dragged him here like a rag doll and chained him up
like an animal. Her strength was inhuman. His screaming, his
yelling, his arguing and pleading, were having no effect
whatsoever. She reached over and rubbed his testicles for a few
seconds. "Yes, we'll have a lot of fun."
Looking around for something, anything, that could help, he finally
took a good look at the man on the altar. He thought it was a man,
though he had his doubts at first. That something so wasted, so
skinny, and so miserable looking was human was hard for him to
believe. The pitiful whimpers of pain made by that man brought home
the reality of what was happening. He began to shout and struggle
again.
A few moments later, the Contessa came in with Jennifer. The
shorter woman now had several small trickles of blood running from
her neck and down over her shoulders and chest. She was led in by
the hand and positioned at the foot of the alter, before the tall
woman, standing behind Jennifer, took her in her arms. She bent her
head down, and soon a new trickle of blood joined the others. The
redhead moaned in pleasure, reaching up to caress the other woman's
neck.
Wally was screaming at the top of his lungs but with no noticeable
effect. He was being ignored by all four of them. All he could
do was watch in horror at what was unfolding before him.
********************************************************************
John's world was little more than pain. Everywhere those rags
touched, everywhere the liquid flowed, burned like a terrible
fire. Whatever it was she'd fed him kept him right on the edge,
alert and sensitive to every sensation from his body, multiplying
the effect of her torture by not allowing his nerves to go numb.
Despite the pain, he couldn't help but watch what was happening.
He remembered, from a different perspective, everything that was
happening, and anticipated everything that would be happening. He
couldn't stop thinking, no matter how much he wanted to. Soon,
he knew, the ecstasy would start, counterpointing the agony he was
in.
It happened as he remembered, with the tall woman fondling and
bringing into heat the other sacrifice, then helping her step up
onto the alter and down onto his fully engorged manhood. Something
the witch had given him caused that as well, since he was certain
he was in no shape to perform normally. He felt her heat, then
her moisture, then the velvety smooth softness of her interior.
Whatever he was on made it seem far more intense than he could ever
remember. It was fantastically wonderful, and when she began to
slide up and down, aided by the woman behind her, he almost passed
out from the sensations. The pain and pleasure were balanced, but
at a level that exceeded anything he'd ever felt before. He knew
the mask would come soon, and then the knife. He prayed for the
knife.
********************************************************************
Wally had yelled himself hoarse, and could now only whimper. He'd
seen the knife sitting beside the altar. He'd seen the looks of
agony and ecstasy on the other man. He was watching his girlfriend
being slowly bled to death by the nips on her neck. She was
completely oblivious to everything except the cock she was riding
and the woman behind her. There was no awareness in her eyes even
when she looked right at him.
There was a signal passed from the brunette to the blonde, who
reached down and pulled something out of a low box beside her. When
he got a good look at it, he wondered why they would use such a
thing. It looked like a blank facial mask, maybe made of wax or
a similar material, but highly stylized. He watched the woman place
it on the whimpering man's face. It seemed to mould itself to his
features, taking on his looks almost immediately. A loud whine
erupted from the man as soon as he realized the mask was being
placed on him, and then nothing. Wally could see the man breathing,
but he was now silent.
Jennifer was becoming more and more active, bouncing up and down,
tossing her head, groaning and whimpering her pleasure for all to
hear. Babs placed the dagger in her hands with the blade angled
down towards the man's stomach. The redhead didn't seem to notice,
but she held onto the weapon anyway.
The final few events happened very quickly. Later, Wally could
recall them in slow motion, reliving every second in great detail,
but at the time it all seemed a blur.
The man on the altar grunted, slamming his hips up into Jennifer
several times, as though climaxing. At the first sign of semen
escaping from the woman's cleft, the Contessa leaned forward,
pressing Jennifer forward as well, and putting their full weight
onto the back of the knife. It slid slowly into the man's stomach,
angling up under his ribs into his heart, just as it had been
positioned to do. Right in the middle of his climax, he was
sacrificed in terrible pain.
As soon as he stiffened and rattled his last breath, Babs ripped
off the mask. It now looked exactly like the man did at the instant
of death. Wally watched as she brought the mask up and kissed it
tenderly on the lips while she started to masturbate. With one
hand in her crotch, she was making love to that inanimate object.
He could hear her whispers, words interspersed with sighs and
whines.
"Oh, my precious pet" "My wonderful pet" "You taste so delicious"
"Soooo much held inside" "You're perfect, just perfect"
It was then he heard Jennifer begin her peak. Her high pitched
scream tore through him, jerking his awareness back from the blonde
woman. She was still bouncing up and down on the dead man, his
member still somehow hard, and was in the throes of a climax the
likes of which he'd never seen before. With her spine straight and
her head thrown back, he had a perfect view of her neck, and watched
in morbid fascination as those vampire teeth sank deep into her
tender flesh. Blood squirted everywhere before the woman's mouth
closed over the wounds. He could see her swallowing, and watched
the overflow shoot from her lips and all over the body of his
beloved. Jennifer was still climaxing, whimpering in pleasure, even
while her motions got slower and weaker, and her breathing became
shallower and more erratic.
He could only watch, horrified, as she gave one final gasp,
shuddered, and fell still. The vampire woman continued to suck for
a while. When she finally finished, she looked up at him, smiled
a very bloody smile, and laughed. A slight shove, and Jennifer's
body fell on top of the man she'd killed, both completely lifeless.
With a last whimper of denial, his mind finally gave up trying to
handle what was happening. Wally fainted.
********************************************************************
John slowly gained awareness. First came the pain, the awful pain,
surrounding him, but not seeming to be centred on anything he could
identify. Then came the pleasure. Not quite as powerful as the
pain, but just as nebulous in it's origin. He didn't know where he
was, but he thought he should be dead. After all, he reasoned,
hadn't he watched and felt the knife pierce his heart? Yet still,
he thought again, I hurt, I feel, so I must be alive. Unless this
is hell?
The pain never grew stronger, but it never grew weaker either. It
just was, and he slowly grew accustomed to it, and to the pleasure.
He became aware of sound, a sobbing, a terrible heart rending
crying from the soul. He could hear it, and knew it was somewhere
close. With that knowledge, he realized he could also see. It
wasn't like opening his eyes, or turning on a light, it was more
like suddenly realizing that your eyes were open. The room was
still there, but looked different, flatter, sharper, and all the
angles were wrong.
His sight, or his awareness, shifted over to where the sobbing was
coming from. There was a man in shackles, fastened to the wall.
He recognized the man. It was the one who'd come into the altar
room shortly before he himself ... died?
With another shock, John realized why the perspective of the room
seemed all wrong. He was looking at it from somewhere other than
his accustomed spot in chains. He was looking at the room from
about four feet up on one wall. Directly across from him, on
the other wall, one hundred groaning, crying, agonized faces
stared back.
He tried to scream ...
<fin>
********************************************************************
=====================
The Masks
A Horror Story
by Tom Bombadil
-30-
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