Message-ID: <13687eli$9808050213@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13687.txt> From: pjurado@aol.com (PJurado) Subject: (PJ) Witchblade: Demon Gate (f,nc) (1/?) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-Id: <1998080303551200.XAA07672@ladder03.news.aol.com> Witchblade: Demon Gate by PJ http://members.aol.com/PJurado/index.html Chapter 1 Sara Pezzini sprinted through the trees, gasping harshly for breath as she ran. Branches and twigs snapped loudly behind the young woman, letting her know that her pursuers had not given up. Sara smelled the sulfur stench just before a large stream of fire appeared to her left, engulfing several trees in her path. Sara hurled right, extending her hand behind her and firing a green shaft of plasma from the barbed glove wrapped around her right hand and arm to the elbow. A high pitched scream echoed through the forest, making Sara wince in unconscious sympathy. A low hanging branch slapped against Sara's left arm, leaving a painful gash across her skin. Trees snapped behind Sara like thin twigs as something massive smashed through the foliage towards her. Sara leapt over a fallen tree trunk, her lungs burning with fatigue, her legs rubbery from exhaustion. The young woman tripped and fell heavily to the ground, scratching her elbows as she slid to a stop. More trees shattered nearby; a tall, muscled humanoid form appeared from the darkness. *Protect,* whispered the Witchblade in Sara's mind, extending its grey shell across her slim body. The burly human form reached out towards Sara with his large right hand. Sara pointed at her assailant, releasing several razor sharp tendrils from the Witchblade that impaled the large man's hand. The man roared in pain and fury, hastily withdrawing his open palm. "Move away, please," requested a cultured male voice from behind Sara's first attacker. The burly ruffian quickly slid aside, allowing a second man dressed in a long black trench coat to advance towards Sara. The thin man stretched out his right arm, growling words in a harsh language. Bands of purple light wrapped around Sara's ankles and elbows, trapping her on the soft ground. *Protect,* repeated the Witchblade, the red gem embedded within it beginning to glow with an angry ruby light. *No! Wait!* commanded Sara, knowing that a power discharge now would kill her as well as her pursuers. "Take the Witchblade, Samson," ordered the thin man as he ran his hand through his long black hair. As Samson leaned down to take the Witchblade, the thin man chanted again, closing his eyes in concentration. Blue light burned around the man's open right hand and from the Witchblade. Sara felt the barbs that nestled in her flesh slide out while her armor retracted back into the shape of a glove. The Witchblade was free, Samson would be able to take it. *Go! Find another bearer!* ordered Sara desperately, Samson's shadow falling over her. The red gem in the Witchblade flared once, then it extended several thin limbs. It scuttled off of Sara's hand, disappearing into the undergrowth. "Master! It walks!" observed Samson. "Get it, you fool!" spat the thin man angrily. Samson smashed through the trees in pursuit of the elusive walking glove, brushing the foliage with his large, meaty hands. "I didn't think that you could command the Witchblade to abandon you. It truly is an enigma," smiled the thin man, kneeling beside Sara's bound form. "You won't get it. You might as well go." "The artifact may be gone, but it is still linked to you. I've done my homework, my dear. Shall I share what I've learned with you?" "Go to Hell," snarled Sara defiantly. "Oh, I intend to, with you as a souvenir," chuckled Sara's captor. Tabitha sat on the steps in front of St. Francis, cramming for the algebra quiz scheduled today. It was just after 7:00 am, only her and a few other students were here to wait for the janitor to open the school's doors. "You should have studied last night," said Rose, setting her backpack down as she sat next to her friend. "My parents made me go carpet shopping with them." "Ugh! Sounds horrible!" "Believe me, it was," scowled Tabitha, her eyes focused in her book. "Hey! It's yummie little Tabitha! Come here and sit on Gunner's lap!" shouted the tall football jock from the other side of the stairway. "Ah, shit! It's Gunner! Run!" warned Tabitha, grabbing her books hastily and running for the nearby trees. Rose stayed close behind her friend, clutching her pack to her chest. Gunner laughed harshly as he sprinted after them, skidding to a halt at the edge of the forest. "Catch ya next time!" promised Gunner, returning back to the stairs to wait for fresh prey. "I hate..that..shithead," said Rose, pressing her hands on her knees while she gasped for air. "Me, too," nodded Tabitha, brushing blonde hair out of her eyes. "What's that?" whispered Rose, moving close to Tabitha and pointing into the bushes. Tabitha peered into the greenery, detecting a soft scuffling sound nearby. "Maybe it's a squirrel or something," shrugged Tabitha. "Let's go," urged Rose, tugging on Tabitha's right arm. A grey shape jumped out of the bushes, crashing into Tabitha. Both girls screamed, Rose running back to school while Tabitha struggled with the long-limbed thing sitting on top of her. The bulk of the thing slithered over to her right hand, encasing it before stabbing several sharp barbs into her skin. Tabitha screamed again, her throat raw as she felt blood dripping from the barb-inflicted wounds. More barbed tendrils hung over Tabitha's prone body, they quivered expectantly, then dived down at the helpless girl. Tabitha moaned fearfully as sharp tendrils wrapped around her neck, arms and legs. The razor limbs slashed her clothes to shreds before slicing painfully into her white flesh. Tabitha struggled weakly, her mind getting foggy from loss of blood. *Join,* whispered a voice in Tabitha's head, making her shudder in terror. "Please, let me go," begged the young girl, reaching out with her arms to drag herself towards the safety of the school building. *Join,* repeated the Witchblade, forcing Tabitha's legs apart with the tendrils wrapped around her thighs. "No, please," moaned Tabitha, tears staining her pale cheeks. The Witchblade did not heed Tabitha's protests, it thrust a single thick tendril into Tabitha's pussy, tearing through the girl's white panties. Tabitha gasped, feeling the pulsing limb as it slithered through her tender vagina. Tendrils wrapped around Tabitha's young breasts, squeezing them in vice grips. The tendril around Tabitha's throat rubbed back and forth, the tip sliding over her right cheek to prick at her trembling lower lip. Tabitha's thighs shook with each violent thrust of the limb inside her cunt, the probe expanding to fill her entire pussy till it ached. Tabitha felt the thick tendril rip past her virginity, sending a sharp pain throughout her crotch. Blood slid out of Tabitha's cunt, staining the grass under her ass a deep scarlet. The pain slowly transformed into pleasure, Tabitha panting from each forceful thrust. As suddenly as the Witchblade had attacked her, the artifact retracted all of its tendrils, shrinking to the size of a thin bracelet. Tabitha lay weakly on the ground, her legs open, her pussy bleeding, and her blouse and skirt ripped to shreds. "Oh, my god!" exclaimed one of St. Francis' teachers, quickly kneeling at Tabitha's side to check for a pulse. "Get the nurse, now!" shouted the woman, pointing at one of the students who had followed her from the school. "Tabitha!" cried Rose, rushing to kneel on Tabitha's other side and to take her limp hand. "It looks like someone attacked her," said the teacher, eyeing the woods uneasily. A few moments later, the janitor and a strong male senior brought a stretcher for Tabitha. The school nurse put a blanket over Tabitha's ravaged body, holding her wrist as the men carried her to the infirmary. "The Witchblade has bonded with a young high school girl named Tabitha Meredith. She's in the school infirmary right now," said Demona, her brow furrowed in concentration. She held her hand against Sara's forehead, probing the bound woman's thoughts. "Damn, this complicates things," frowned Mephit, digging his hands deeper into the pockets of his black trench coat. "I'll just go in there and take the little bitch," growled Samson, who stood nearby. "That would attract far too much attention, my friend, the wrong kind of attention," replied Mephit with a shake of his head. "Looks..like..you lose," smiled Sara weakly. "Hardly, my dear. I haven't even begun yet," grinned Mephit maliciously. **************************************** -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>