Shokushu High School

Ghost Story

By Swamp Fox © 2006

Original Concept and some passages byStormbringer

Index

Outline

Chapter 1 A New Beginning
Chapter 2 Training
Chapter 3 Sisters in arms
Chapter 4 College
Chapter 5 The Ghost Town Resort and Spa

Forward

This is a piece of fantasy….sexual fantasy in large measure. There is no resemblance to real people, all names are made up. As a piece of fantasy the author would like to make sure you the reader understand that Rape in any form is wrong…No is No! With that in mind enjoy the tales of Shania and soon, her other friends as they embark into a world of submission and ultimate freedom.

Ghost Town
Chapter 1 – A New Beginning
Day 1 - Awakening

The stark landscape of the desert passed them by just outside the windows of the old police blazer. The two occupants were as different as night and day. The old man looked over at the young woman next to him, her head peering out the window, and watched the bleak desert go by. He could sense the loneliness, the desolation and yet its strength and ability to endure, which all matched the mood of the young woman riding in the passenger side of the Blazer. The June sun had moved through the morning sky as they rode, four hours out from the nearest town. The old sheriff had tried to talk with her, but after an hour of her one to two word responses; he had given up and turned on the local radio station. If only she could see what happened to the desert when it rained, how it became a jubilant tapestry of color that sang of life and enduring. He wished that she could see it the way he did, instead she seemed intent on becoming one of the brown husks that littered the ground in death.
He looked over at her now and again. He knew her only by her first name, Shania; it was all he had gotten out of her in almost a week now. There were times he had to remind himself that she really was considered an adult. She was that young looking, even with the tight hard lines drawn by the recent events of her life etched upon her face. She managed to look younger and even more vulnerable to the old man as he drove on. He worked the tooth pick around in his grizzled mouth and hummed along off key to the tune on the radio to make himself feel better about what he was about to do. The dust of the gravel road twirled in the air behind the truck as it continued on its bumpy passage away from civilization and back in time.
The sheriff was familiar with the old place, one of the few that ever came out and checked on the old man that had lived there his whole life. The last of a dying breed that feller had been, a kind old man long past the prime of life, living out his last days so very alone. He had driven out the last time…..hell of a way to live he thought to himself, remembering the dead body upon the upstairs bed, no one would have known for quite some time if she hadn’t been coming to town. He kept the air-conditioning on, kept the truck cool; she would find out soon enough what the desert could do to you. He looked again, wondered how many years it would take to leach the youth from her skin. “Sure hope she’ll ‘ave a chance to grow up fore growing old”, he mumbled to himself, stopped then in mid-sentence and finished the rest in his head, ‘The desert didn’t allow mistakes.’
Sometimes you had to grow up way to fast, definitely the case for her. She should be out with some girlfriends looking at the boys and giggling to one another. He’d tried to talk her out of this, but with just a word or two he’d known it wasn’t going to work. His last idea was to delay her…that too had died quickly on the altar of her stubborn silence. He’d thought that the least he could do then was to try and see after her by taking her out here himself. So much for chivalry, she really didn’t seem to notice, but then could you really blame the poor girl.
Shania had endured so much the last two months. A few months after her 18th birthday, she had to suffer that greatest of losses, the death of her parents and brother, all lost in tragedy. The national news had even reported the story, a massive explosion caused by workers breaching the natural gas pipeline near her family's farm. The fire that erupted had devoured 10,000 acres in the blink of an eye. Winds built it into a raging firestorm that consumed all in its path. It had burned so hot that by the time she had returned from the final graduation outing, with her school mates, nothing much was left. Fate saw to it that she was spared the physical fires, not so the rest. With her family were all dead, the animals, the crops, all gone, everything that was her life gone. It had taken a strength she hadn't realized she had to get through. She had sobbed only twice, once held by her best friend and the second alone after she had signed the papers selling the land her parents had owned, land she no longer wanted with its bitter memories. It had been a place of fond childhood memories, now it was a place of nightmares. She only hoped that her parents would understand and forgive her.
Now the real fires of life tested her strength of resolve, evident in the process of both the insurance settlement and real estate transactions, that had taken their own emotional toll. She didn’t want the money, she wanted her family back. Lawyers, like a pack of vultures called and visited, not understanding this simple fact. She despised them for it. The families of the men that had caused her loss had to deal with their loss as well, and she could sympathize with their plight far more so than the scavengers trying to pick the carcass clean. It didn’t take long for the settlement to her, just more digits in a game of zeros and commas that had nothing to do with success or life. She didn’t really care, was numb to life by then.
It was then that a glimmer of hope had surfaced. An old great uncle, her mother’s uncle was alive out west and was willing to help her out. So she had determined to make her way to her last surviving relative. Everyone spoke about him being a kindly old guy if not a bit eccentric. He lived by himself, she was sure that she would be able to help him, and by doing so, he would help her. Perhaps the best medicine for what ailed her in the world. With a little energy and less melancholy she got the bus ticket, having been taught to be careful with her money and preceded into the great unknown. During the trip she had spent a night in the big city with all its glitz, spent some money frivolously, at least that’s what mom would have thought. It had made her feel better, the first step in deciding her own direction and future. Finally, she stepped off the bus in a strange small town in the middle of nowhere, only to find he too had died while she was en route. She carried on because there was no place else to go.
It was a man in the cowboy hat that had been at that bus station with a small hand written sign in front of him. ‘Shania’, it said. She had gathered up her battered suitcases, saved money buying them from the thrift store, and headed his way. At first she thought her uncle had come for her, it only took one word and the look on his face for her to understand she had lost again. It was a cursed gift indeed. She read it in his posture, knew almost instantly that the fates continued to conspire against her happiness. She wanted to curse the god of her parents, a god that was supposed to be kind and gentle and had let all this happen to her. Now that same man sat next to her on the long ride out, a gentle sole the voice inside said, safe. He had done everything in his power to convince her not to go, she knew in her heart she had to. Something drew her out into this familiar feeling desolation. He still didn’t understand it was something she had to do. She felt like this desert, barren, dead and all used up. Kindred spirit it was to her.
Of course that was the week before; death seemed to come with duties, duties she was loathe to perform in her current state. With the death of her great uncle the process started all over again. While eerily familiar in its day to day requirements, this time there were no shoulders to cry on, she was on her own, away from the friends she had left behind. It seemed that black was going to be the color of her life, though there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of others left for her to grieve over…
Her great uncles lawyer came to met her, was callously met in turn as she outwardly displayed her disdain for the profession given the events after her family’s death. He dealt with her nobly, ignoring the insults, until she knew in her heart he was really trying to help. He advised her that this relative too, a man she had never met and until a few weeks ago did not even know she was alive, had taken it upon himself to leave all of his assets to her, a last minute change done upon learning of her existence. Yet another gain based on loss, it was almost too much and way too fast. She had cried then, alone, and grieved the generosity of a man she would never meet. She had signed the papers were she was told to sign and proceeded through the entire process in a numbed state. When it was done she knew that this was a man she could trust with her own future, much as her uncle had. At that moment he become her personal lawyer, handshake and smile sealed the deal.
The meeting with the banker had gone much the same way. All the paperwork was signed, and electronic beeps and whistles moving at the speed of light down hollow wires ensured that money moved effortlessly into accounts and investments. He had been very kind and helping, calling her lawyer, working the money into her personal trust. As she sat bouncing back in forth in the truck as it made its way down the rutted road, she reflected on her meetings with the man, it was almost a kindness given in a desperate sort of way. It made her wonder about motivations of bankers, at least this one in particular.
Her mom had called it a gift this vision into men’s souls. She often wondered if it wasn’t a curse. Her ability to watch and listen to someone and then be able to tell what they were truly feeling had nourished her at home. Call it woman’s intuition; she could almost hear the underlying currents that drove a person. Her two boyfriends hadn’t lasted long because of it; they just seemed to have been interested in her pants and getting them off. The banker seemed to be that way about her money, instead of her pants. The lawyer was honest and could be trusted implicitly, she new that he would keep the banker honest. It was a new and dangerous game. It scared her.
Yet the scariest moment in her new life had come after that. It was when she had ordered her truck and wrote the check. It seemed like so much money, her writing had suffered while her hand trembled as she wrote out the amount. She bought by cash, in an era of low percentage rates. In the larger scheme of things is was a paltry amount when her new fortune was totaled up. She had splurged, gotten the accessories. The salesman had gone away really happy. With her lack of emotional energy to dicker she paid the premium and left. The transport would get her back and forth for food. She didn’t see much need for anything else.
As she stumbled through her life for the few days she remained in the town everyone she met had kind words; all had been there to help her adjust to this new life of hers, one of a sudden and wholly unwanted modicum of wealth. Now she found herself suddenly in possession of an entire town and a large amount of acreage in a vast unforgiving desert. Population – 0…soon to be one; a temporary sanctuary to think and come up with a future that was right now none to certain. There might be buyers in the future, time would tell.
Then the day arrived. There was yet another funeral on yet another day, this one small, her uncle having been a bit of a recluse all holed up in that town all those years. Being small it saved her the requirement to receive loads of guests, instead she shook a few hands, muttered a few words of thanks in return and it was over. It was immediately afterwards that she and the sheriff had embarked on the drive into the barren wilderness that would be her new home. From a distance she finally spied the town, the tumbled buildings littering the small ridge rising in the distance. That they stood yet a testament to the construction techniques used in days long gone.
The town broods silently in the hot desert air.... silent but for the occasional rattle or clatter as the vagrant wind whistles through, sliding through glassless window frames, banging the doors of the deserted saloon. The nearby mountain, its promise of gold a cruel deception for the many that had come, hangs threateningly over the weathered wooden buildings. Though all but deserted for many years, just one stubborn old man hanging on against all sensible advice, maybe with nowhere else to go.... still the town is not empty...flickering shadows that seem to bear little relation to any visible objects wander like will-o’-the-wisps, suffering the wait..some not lasting the drought.
The sheriff’s blazer pulled into the main street between the old run down buildings and stopped in front of the largest house on the block, skidding on the loose gravel. It was an old corner home with faded yellow paint flaking off the exterior walls where it clung haphazardly. New cans of paint sat on the porch, looking odd in there brightness. “He got the paint when he heard you were coming, was gonna spruce up the place a we bit fore yah got ere.” Shania just stared as she had for the entire trip, he wasn’t sure if it was a slight wetness in the corner of her eye before she turned her head. He’d rather think it was, made her more human than she had acted so far, less the robot going through motions.
“Yah know, I find it easier to talk to a silent woman, you’ve been great.” trying to bait her...those green eyes remaining dead to it all. That worried him.
“Ma’am, I know this is where you’re gunna stay, but if it’d be all the same with you, I’d like to walk round and make sur that it’ll be ok.” She gave just a nod in return. The sheriff and his charge stepped out of the cool air-conditioning and into the blast furnace of a hot afternoon sun in the desert. The’re greeted by a small dust devil drifting down the street, sand rattling off old boards; otherwise not a sound meets them, even the call of a wild bird. The desert has a habit of sleeping through the hottest part of the day; man has never learned that sensibility.
Open doors reveal the suitcases and boxes that contained all of her life. One by one she pulls them from the police blazer, all that the she would have to live on, and places them on the ground next to it. Sweat, from the heat of the sun overhead, runs down her arms in no time. It is less noticeable under the shirt and jeans. She lifts the hat and wipes the back of a sweaty hand across her brow, adjusts the Dallas Cowboys baseball cap back over her head in an elegant gesture. Listlessly she gathers the boxes and bags and carries them to the porch, putting them atop the faded weather worn wood. Finally she sits and taking the cap in her hand fans herself under the shade of the porches overhang. “What have I gotten myself into”, she mutters to herself, “its hotter than an open stove around here.” Still there is no going back, that much is an admission of defeat.
She watches as the sheriff walks over to the old well pump and pushes on the handle a few times. The water looks cool and refreshing in this land of parched heat. The thought of going over to him and simply dunking her head under the spout rides up out of the depths of her mind then decides better of it as modesty wins out over the heat. No place for a wet T-shirt contest, even with the blue bikini top on under the white shirt.
You never leave somebody out in the desert without water he thinks to himself. Then out loud for her benefit, “be sur you drink plenty of water, and never go no where round here without sum…it’ll be your death if yah do…” He looks at her as he continues to work the handle, wondering if she is really paying attention at all. Shania’s face betrays no emotion, just a slight nod of acknowledgement; it is all that passes for communication much of the time. Water sputters forth from the long unused pump; drawn from someplace deep below the sands they both stand upon. “Well, yah got water…Yah got enough vittles for awhile?”
“Yes, you took me, I got some stuff.” More conversation than the entire ride combined in that one sentence. He smiles, a fatherly smile. Feels for the girl, came here to her last relative only to attend a funeral. He’s been beside her as she was taken on a whirlwind tour of the town, the lawyer, the bank; no time to grieve till tonight he thinks to himself as he watches her petite blond form moving the boxes of her goods onto the porch. Now here she is out in the middle of nowhere, on her own, alone.
“Well, thar you go”, a kindly smirk, twinkle in the eye, “if yah don’t mind, I’ll come back out in a few days, check on you. Maybe that truck you bought will be in and I’ll help bring er out. That work for yah?”
“Yes, thanks”. She shivers in spite the heat. ‘This place even feels dead’ she thinks to herself, ‘just hold it together for a while longer girl, nothing is here, it’s just a ghost town.’ For just a moment her skin crawls as if in foreboding of something still there. She shakes it off in time to look up at the old man.
“Jus gonna take a lil walk here abouts, I’ll a see yah in a bit.” A slight tip of the battered white cowboy hat, and the old man turns and trudges off. Shania watches him go, footsteps stirring up small pools of dust with each step down the main street. He disappears into one of the buildings and she turns to continue moving the bags and boxes inside. Then with only the suitcases left Shania just sits on the porch waiting for the old man to return not even certain if she should really be moving her stuff into the house. The reality that this is all hers slowly sinking in to her head. The heat does its best to slow the process as her mind tries to hibernate. ‘Suppose it doesn’t really matter were I camp’ as she looks about.
The sun holds itself high in the sky, bathing the desert in its heat. She waits, the hot sun turning her pale skin a ruddy glow. A man, cowboy hat hung low, walks slowly back to her, the hat keeping the suns rays from his face, eyes hidden behind the dark sunglasses. “I do declare you to be the only inhabitant of yur town. Jus one thing lil miss…..the saloon is off limits…don’t want no drinking by the underage in this here town.” He winked, a grin spreading ear to ear.
“Yes, sheriff”, he was trying so hard with the joke so she had to smile back. She had never been drunk. It was a thought.
He saw the smile then, was relieved that she did have something going on behind that hard head of hers. The thought soon scared him far more as he realized she would be alone out here. A far more serious look worked across the wrinkles and marks of his face, “If yah don’t mind, this maybe a bit awkward, but I’d like to think of yah as me own kid, do an ole man a favor and let him help a lil…ok?”
“Ok, just need some time alone”. Her shoulders took up their slumped position again making her look even smaller than she normally did. The large shirt hung about her slender frame, covering the tops of the new blue jeans she wore.
“Well missy, you done got that all right, being out here.” Another nod was all the sign of life her got…maybe try one more time.
“whall, thanks fer letting me get in a word edge wise, yah was a mighty fine sport...” nothing, “Ok, I’ll see yah soon, next time we can ave a longer talk.” the conversation was done…the face closed and the body turned away. Yep, at least three months for the bank to clear the paperwork, she thinks to herself, maybe if I like it…a lifetime.
The sheriff got back into the Chevy and started up the truck. As the truck drove off the swirling dust in its wake she could clearly hear the horn sound over the still desert air. The sheriff waved, a large hand out the window, slowly receding in the distance. He hoped the young girl was going to be all right out here all alone. He saw her smile and wave back then. If he didn’t come check on her in a few days he’d send one of the boys out just to make sure, one he could trust. She had looked so diminutive and lonely on the ride out. He really did feel for her, and after a few days of helping her out, well, she was as close to family as anybody he had ever known outside work.
Shania was now down right hot from the sweltering sun. Taking the front of the large oxford shirt she wore and tying it to the front together under her breasts, lifting it and leaving bare her perspiration streaked belly. No matter, she was alone in this world of hers; modesty was overrated in this kind of heat. Her slim body moved with a dancers grace as she gathered up her suitcases; the last of her things still outside. The brand new blue jeans clad her long legs trim and slim within them. The oversize blouse now pulled and tied under her breasts gave them the possible illusion of size...her features still hidden by the voluminous folds. She was small for her age being only a little over 5 feet in height. The Dallas Cowboys cap pulled low over her face covered her hair leaving just a long braid of pale blonde hair thumping on her back as she walked. The sunglasses she wore did little to hide the beauty of her small heart shaped face and the pale pouty lips that should have red lipstick on them to drive the men wild in their fullness.
With the three battered and used suitcases, Shania trudged up the steps into the old house. She showed her strength with that move, bags filed with her things thumping against her legs...Perhaps her most treasured possessions remained in these bags, scattered amongst a variety of new items, some still with the tags attached. The treasures in those suitcases was all that she had left from the fire that killed her parents and destroyed her home...yet here she was a 1000 miles west, sole owner of all around her for many miles.... She finally for the first time in days felt free. With that, her voice a parody of a Spanish accent " Luccccyyy I Ammm Hommme"
The door swung open with a protesting screech from its rusted and worn hinges as Shania pushed her way past the threshold and into the big run down house to finish the move inside. It was hers now, all of it, almost for as far as one could see, belonged to her. Even the purple mountain that rose behind the town was hers.
Something seems to quiver through the town at the sound of the young clear voice; maybe a change in temperature caused by a fluctuation in air pressure.... a sense of awakening....
Suitcases fall to the floor in the dusty front room, as she reaches up to pull her sunglasses off. Her green eyes clear and sad as she looks around the beat up furnishings, as a faded curtain curls in the slight breeze... "Lord is it hot here...I wonder if there is a pool or a stream, anything to cool off with... The sun continues to bear the oppressive heat upon her body, even in the shade. She remembers the stream that they had gone by briefly about 30 minutes down the road, by truck… She thought about it for a moment, ‘A bit of a walk when that was all you had left for transport.’ Well Shania I guess its time to check this out ... I do wish mom and dad were here, though they would have looked down on this place.”
Out in the town the batwing doors of the old saloon rattle and sway, though the wind seems to have dropped in the stillness of the late afternoon. If it were darker, the pale red glows, about head height, moving in pairs, would probably have been visible...
Shania moves on into the house singing softly, her voice a rich alto bringing a song to the old town that hadn’t heard it for many years. She sighs at the run-down state of this the main house...the sink rusted and the place a mess. Getting the rest of the boxes from the outside room she carries them into the kitchen, or at least what you would call a kitchen. She almost thanks the old sheriff for making her get the camp stove. At least she will have something to heat the food…might have to eventually learn how to use the old black iron wood stove sitting along one wall of the small room.
‘Well plenty of room for one person’, the thinks as she tours the downstairs rooms of the house, singing softly. The melody is the only sound as the wind catches it and swirls it into the street. “Well girl, you wanted some time on your own, and you got it in spades” A slight quirk crosses her mouth, inside humor; it’s the most emotion she has shown the entire day.
She thinks about her parents, the love they had showered on her. The home they had provided. It was a warm safe place even with the undercurrents of secrecy that she some times sensed. Mom had always helped her understand what she was feeling, even the gift she had. It had always taken the edge of things, but now that was gone and she was on her own.
Shuffling noises that would have been inaudible anywhere but in the desert silence sweep down the main street, yet nothing is to be seen. Shuffling sounds. The dust kicks up a little at odd places. Beyond the town a coyote howls mournfully as dusk approaches. A town yet awakening to the magic in the air: a magic of sound, of smell, of sight, of warmth and inevitably of taste, so long missing. It calls to them, desire, passion, awaken in the fading light of the sun..
The young girl moves out to the living room looking for lights... "Great, just great … an oil lamp and matches.... I am doomed". Shaking her head, she strikes a match and attempts to light the old dusty lamp. On the third try a warm yellow glow highlights her face. Stepping back she unties her sweat streaked shirt and pulls it off tossing it onto a dusty chair. The blouse has not deceived but merely covered the bounty that is her body. Her large breasts threaten to spill from the blue bikini top she has on, as she starts up the stairs. The solitude and heat of this desert retreat letting her relax her dress code for a moment.
How many years has it been since there was a real woman in this lonely place? Sixty? Seventy? There was that hooker the old man brought back once, before he got too old, before he got too poor to pay for such things. But she didn't last long, and even that must have been forty years gone. Not a real woman at all, otherwise she would have lasted longer than the night she had….they had been to fast, to rough even for a woman accustomed to such things. He would ensure things went slower with this one…there might not be another chance. The sighs of anticipation could have been the wind pressing against tumbleweeds...but there is no wind now. Another coyote joins the desolate howling.
Looking about the hallway and the few rooms, Shania finally finds the main bedroom, the musky scent of urine and death hanging still in the air. Nearly gagging she heads quickly back down.... "I wonder where a person goes to the bathroom at here...you don’t suppose.... an outhouse?". There had been no bathroom in the house; primitive was not a word she was used to using.
The old man never knew where the hooker went. Probably assumed she ran off once she had taken his money. Never found the shriveled body in the dried up creek a few miles north. She was still there, along with his money. Pale red orbs, looking darker, more visible now in the dusk...crowding around the windows...looking in hungrily.
Shania walks out the back seeing the small sheds, the hand pump, and the little building with the half moon cut in the door.... singing a bit louder now, a feeling of something sending a little thrill down her spine ...the kind of thrill one gets from being a tiny bit scared but knowing its ok, that nothing is really gonna happen. Alone and on your own for the first time in your life girl…The town is yours, anything and nothing, could happen.
Intangible shapes crowd invisibly as they round the building...watching the girl.... hungrily assessing her...but still respecting her privacy oddly enough as she enters the little hut. Soon they think, nothing to stop them….master sleeping still.
Shania’s voice takes on a sad note as she does her business.... her song one of loss and sadness. Suddenly from behind the door cries a voice of utter despair, "DAMN DAMN DAMN HOW I AM TO CLEAN MYSELF...I HATE THIS PLACE.... AHHHH. Shit, how did they deal with this back then…storming from the outhouse still muttering as she zips up her jeans, a pair of white lacy panties in her outstretched hand. “DAMN - Of course didn’t think about getting any of the supplies like toilet paper. Can’t wait till the truck gets here, might need to come up with a list of things…disinfectant for the bedroom add that as well.” The sentence and curses continue until she is inside the house.
Whispering sounds flow through he town that could have been an almost inaudible conversation... never ever had the town seen such a perfectly shaped girl as the one outlined by the tight clothing...hot damn... Scuffling for views at the windows...not ready to move further... not yet...clothing that covered less than it left uncovered…yes, along time ago, even the harlots dressed with more clothing…did that mean? Hunger begins to gnaw on old feelings, reviving them and the memories. There are fewer, the weaker have long since passed on in this drought. Yet, all can sense the rain, smell it, see it, it only makes the waiting that much harder.
Shania sighs, a lost sad sound as she spies the big tin tub leaning against the back porch. "I guess this is not my day. Hells bells it ain’t my year" grabbing the tub, her small lithe body stronger then it would appear she shoves and tugs it in by the fire. Each move threatens to dislodge firm breasts from the too small bikini that barely holds them in place, a gift to herself from a store in the big city...the next hour is spent lugging in water as the fire now crackles in the fireplace, heating the room as the night’s desert air chills the land. Finally laying out a long sleep shirt, Shania reaches over to the IPOD station on the table and flicks it on. Soft ballads from Sarah Mclachlan dance in the air.
Her blue bikini top falls away to reveal large round pink colored nipples upon her pale full breasts. The jeans, unzipped and sent flying in to the corner with a little wiggle and kick of a long leg. “ta da,”, the rich alto voice sings out again, “never thought taking a bath could be so hard…guess that’s why bath night was once a month.”, a wry smile flashes quickly across her young face, melting a few more years from it, showing she does have spunk in spite the refrained attitude thus far shown. She lies back in the tub and begins to gently wash herself. Spreading soap across her breasts large and full, looking big on her small frame... her tender nipples pink and soft. Soapy fingers glide down long legs that move with grace and fluidity. Song filters through the air gently from her lips in synch with the music coming from the IPOD player. She sways to the melody of Alana Myles and her sultry blues. A melancholy voice echoes off the walls as she cleans herself of the dust with soap and water.
Something almost translucent, yet heavier than the air around it, shaped like a hand.... a dream made more solid than usual.... lifts the latch of the back door which swings open quietly...something, maybe several things, stirs the dust on the floor. Pale orbs take in the slender body with it's flat stomach and slim hips... they admire the small firm bottom and trim legs, the pale skin that looks reddish in the firelight... ahhh.... and the lovely little face... the large, tip-tilted breasts looking so demanding of attention... the nipples full of promise... and.... sweet Jesus... the naked slit between her legs......... There was a general agreement... well, an agreement imposed by the awakened stronger, hidden presence... this one must be made to last... who knows how long until another woman came within this limited sphere of movement. She would never leave of course.... but she was needed whole... preferably in mind as well as body... so she would be brought around slowly. All thoughts of rebellion squashed the others presence grows stronger with each passing moment.
The girl leans forward as she rinses her long pale hair and finally stands, her small body glistening.... one could mistake her for a child with her size, barely over 5' tall, but her breasts spoke of her womanhood. Stepping out dripping on the floor the chill air hardens her nipples as she dries herself. Shania pulls on a tiny pair of green lacy panties that ride high on her slender hips, accentuating the length of her legs in relation to her torso. She then pulls on her long, to her knees, baggy shirt, her breasts swaying free, the hints of her hard nipples caressing the fabric. Pulling the couch closer to the fire and laying down, pulling a musky blanket over herself she drifts off into sleep, the fire crackling and the gold flame from the lamp turned low.
Dreams torment her sleep as fire and death rain upon her from above. She sees the horror of bodies falling, shot from somewhere in the darkness that gathers round them. She sees the small flashes of light stab out into that darkness, a small fire each, consumed quickly and dying, followed by people’s shouts and fire. Fire reaches out and consumes flesh and material alike. People die, suffocating in the fumes, consumed by the heat. This time the dream is a change from her former nightmares of her family and fire, fire that tries to consume her. Her body thrashes under the on slot of its own minds nightmares as the night goes deathly still and the red orbs gaze at the girls form in abject desire. Still their movements are held at bay as another force contemplates the morsel that has been delivered into its domain. It shares the vision of subordinates and seeks to posses the young vibrant flesh just as much if not more so than those that gather around her form. The night passes as each move, each moan and cry is cataloged against her essence and a picture begins to emerge of a tormented yet strong soul. Perhaps the wise ones prophecy will come true at long last…

Ghost town
Chapter 1
Day 2 – The Town

Light streams in from the open window and flickers across tightly closed eyes. Its sensation elicits a stretch from tired muscles as Shania begins to stir from a night of frightful nightmares. Birds chirp in the background as she lies for a few more moments not wanting to pry her tired eyes open. Sleep no longer provides the rest for her weary soul that it once did, not since the accident. The lethargy of her morning’s movements provides ample proof, yet she is not ready to give in and wallow in the self pity that beckons her so strongly. So listlessly she gathers herself up to meet another day and survive it. There is a town to explore, and something, something that she can feel inside watching waiting.

Clasps clang open on the suitcase and after a little rummaging around within its confines she gathers up the wrinkled sun dress and holds it out in front of her. Everything she owns is new to her; she had replaced all of the things she had worn that fateful day her life had gone upside down. With measured movement she removes her night shirt, and carefully folds it placing it upon the faded old coach. Suddenly she stares at the window, trying to focus on the outline of form that had just been there, watching her change. She blushes, the crimson on her cheeks, the hair standing on end on arms and neck. Nothing, “must be my imagination again”, she holds an arm against her chest, trying to hide her nakedness, only making her seem even prettier and more vulnerable. Quickly now, the bra, simple and white is clasped in place behind her, shoulders back and full and round breasts ride upon her chest, a woman’s chest.

She hesitates, then pulls on the sun dress, waiting for it to settle about her frame before she works off the old panties from beneath its concealment and puts on a new pair, modesty and the sensation of being watched making her dress in ways that keep her covered. “Mom, Dad, I love you, hope you aren’t mad at me for selling the place….I …I couldn’t stay, hope you understand.” If they are here, she wants them to understand. Too many fleeting images at the edges of her vision since she has arrived, too many strange feelings, most of them about being watched…”keep your cool girl, mom always said to listen to your heart, not certain what it is feeling today….”

Yes, she is alone now, and takes care of the things that need caring for. In her past this meal for one used to be a meal for four. She would have helped mom, now that comfort is gone. A tear rolls down a single cheek, she whips it away with the back of her hand, “Got to stop feeling sorry for yourself….”. Perhaps the way ahead is to just see what is here, in this sad empty town. A town much like her own heart she imagines, a place to explore, but dead, profoundly dead.

The door opens under her hand, with its now familiar protest. On her own she steps onto the street in front of her house. I live on the corner of Main Street she musses, Main Street USA. Most of the town’s main buildings are clustered off both sides of the street just up the road. She walks over to them and up onto the creaking board walk that runs down both sides of the street, there are hitching posts here and there just off the walk. The first store front yields little to her gaze, its windows still intact but nothing remains within the building to give a clue as to what it had been. The door creaks open as she enters, revealing a small room with a door to the back. Decades of dust have built up on the floor, piles of it trapped in the corners of the room. Not a foot print disturbs its presence but for the ones behind her, fresh upon the floor. She reaches the back door and opens it as well, finds a smaller room, probably for storage and another door, hanging open on its long unused hinges leading to the outside. “Well, this is pointless”, voice showing its disappointment in this the first building. “I hope they aren’t all like this.” Talking aloud to herself, happy to fill the vast emptiness with at least the sound of her own voice.

On to the next store she continues, it is far larger, one large window on each side of a windowed door. A faded sign hangs on two hooks, softly swaying in the slight breeze that from time to time wraps itself about her. Hardware, is all it says, but enough to tell what the store might have been here for. She walks in past the open door hanging forlornly upon its rusted hinges. Inside she continues to walk around several large stout tables, the tops of which are nicked and gouged from whatever had been displayed upon them. Several rusted shovels and other tools lay about leaning against a wall, or upon the floor. The door in the back she ignores, knowing where it will head and turns around instead to go to the next building, and look through the glass seeing the empty room but for its glass case and several built in racks and shelves for holding goods. With its emptiness apparent from the window she decides to not even bother entering.

Another window but this time there is a vast difference. The view through the window intrigues her for the first time; it is like the entire place has been abandoned as it was. Carefully she walks in. Two barber chairs stand in the front room, with various razors and razor straps upon the counters and in the drawers of the built in cupboards. As she closes her eyes she can almost imagine the men bantering about the day’s events as they sit in these old padded chairs. Even the bar of lather and brushes sit, as if waiting for the next customer. The only thing that tells her the place is not open for business is the heavy layering of dust upon all. She opens the door to the back sure that the building is deeper, HUUUGH, indrawn breath, “Oh my…”. She stops and stares at the four copper tubs, green streaked with the neglect of age. Their clawed feet and high backs beckon her forward. Next to each is a stout narrow padded table. As she gazes about the room and sees the brass rods with their ornate rings hanging from the ceiling between each of the tubs she concludes that at one time there were curtains that could have been drawn between them for privacy. She walks over to one and pushes on it trying to test how heavy it is. Not a quiver as she puts her back and legs into the push…This would beat the old tub she is using all to pieces, just clean it up and the luxurious bath you could have….her eyes waver and close, she dreams then, imagining the cool water covering her legs and shoulders. Reluctantly she opens her eyes again and knows one day soon she will have to try it out….

The rest of her morning is spent exploring the town: she notes with increasing interest that some buildings are empty of all but a few items. Others look like they are ready for business and have been left with all their provisions in tact. In each of these later buildings she finds a faded red cross upon the door, each marked as if to ward off something and/or someone. Is this why they are abandoned intact? Nothing seems to have disturbed these buildings; they stand as they had been left, not an item out of place. She notes the locations in her mind, the tools of the trade left behind giving away their use baring any other clues: The drycleaners and tailors, the smith, the saloon with its bottles of liquor along the wall, and the Inn. All look to be able to function in a moments notice, at least once cleaned and provisioned.

On the other hand, the church with its pews, alter, and large yellow paged bible seemed abandoned. Pulling the large rope in the church causes the long silent bell to peel its cry across the town, She feels despair in its song and pulls on the cord no longer. The jail is empty but for its two iron cages, other buildings are harder to discern their functions, as nothing exists within them any longer. She walks the town from one end to the other, entering the buildings, exploring the rooms. Not once does she note an indication that someone has been her recently, her boots leave the only marks in the long accumulated dust upon the floors. Still something nags at her, a feeling of being watched. Finally she enters the last building on the south side of town.

Leather working instruments stand upon the walls, like the owners of this building had also left it in a hurry, gone and simply abandoned in place. In this one, much like many of the other buildings stands full of the tools of the trade, an eerie sign that she ponders. She then notices a single leather strap lies upon what must have been the clerks counter; its golden diamond studs catching her eye. She picks it up and turns it over in her hands, notices the intricate work upon the surface, the suppleness of the leather, the brass buckle. The length is too much for arms or ankles and then shudders at the notion that it would fit upon her neck, quickly putting it back down. Why this sudden feeling like it is hers, like it is part of her future. She shakes her head as blond curls bounce softly about her shoulders and decides to see what the houses may hold.

As she explores the homes she notices that quite a few have the faded red cross on their doors, of those, the contents seem to be left in place. The others are empty of most everything. It is the same red cross as on the doors to the businesses that she runs into over and over again, the same scenario of places abandoned still filled with their goods. If only her great uncle had lived he might have told her the significance and meaning of the red cross. Could it have been a sign of plague, for something had removed the vitality of this town?

In one of these homes she finds a great brass bed frame, tarnished from years of neglect, the mattress in taters across its frame. Yes creatures explored these same homes and scrounged them in much the same way as she now did, looking for anything of use. Her fingers run across its ancient smooth surface, she grips it and pushes. It moves in spite its heavy weight. Shania looks at it and at the narrow door frame. The bolts that hold it together severely corroded. Without being able to take it apart she is unable to get it through the door. ‘Another time’, she thinks, ‘have to get a mattress for it anyway.’

Behind yet another of the houses she finds a couple of rose trees growing by a murky pool of water, with a few wild flowers at its edges still blooming. She smells the fragrance and closes her eyes….imagining what it would be like with water brought to this harsh land, fields of flowers flow through her vision. The light breeze causes her dress to billow upwards, the draft flowing around and between her sweat dampened legs, sliding up to touch her panties, she shivers at the sensation, the smell of the flowers, the heat of the sun and licks her lips as desire wells up inside. She finds herself daydreaming amongst the flowers and awakens to other urges that override her emotions and tell her that the body desires sustenance as well. She turns back to the place she will call home, a place that holds her belongings and food but not yet her heart.

Having explored the buildings of town and with the food gone and stomach satisfied Shania looked about the desert around her town. There wasn’t much left after her morning’s wanderings. Perhaps a little further a field there might be something of interest. With a quick decision she sets out into that desert with her canteen thumping against a swaying hip in rhythm to the falling of her boots. Small tendrils of dust arise from each step to sway about her ankles from the parched earth underfoot. Everywhere the earth seemed brown in contrast with the home she had grown up in with its green trees and green grasses. Life did eke out an existence even here, like her own heart, burnt out in the fires of life’s forge, she existed yet. The thought brought her round once again, off the self destructive paths that she tread so close too. Life was worth living even when it was hard. The desert showed her this; she felt it in the air.

He summoned the host, sent several quickly away. Was his prize even now escaping before he had started? He gave his orders to the others…the ground rules firmly laid. Work needed doing, this with protests from the assembled host….bickering even while she may indeed slip away. He had slept to long and discipline had become too lax in his absence. He would not continue the mistake.

The sun beat down upon her in unmitigated fury, turning uncovered skin red and tender to any touch. “Sunscreen, a girls best friend”…she had some, would use it next time. She walked, the light dress soon drenched in perspiration. Everywhere she looked brown dominated. Brown ground, brown rocks, even the plants seemed to have gone brown. Here and there though in the shelter of the rock or under the shade of a bush grew some small green. An occasional bird flew between the branches of the thorny plants. As she walked about she scared up a rabbit, watched it speed off down some sandy track till a curve or bush hid it from view. In spite the heat and lack of moisture the desert still lived. Her soul felt much the same way. With proper watering she was sure that even this barren landscape would blossom in a tapestry of color. Maybe there was hope in her own circumstances…for the first time in weeks she looked forward to her future, contemplated it with something other than despair and loneliness; silly how being alone could do that. As the day went on she felt the familiar gaze return again.

Wolves followed her in the gathering gloom. She watched them in the distance, feeling their familiar gaze. “dumb, dumb, dumb, I need a gun or something if I’m going to be out here all alone….just be brave girl, don’t let them feel your fear”, The words tumbled from under her breath. She saw the town, relieved some what that they did not follow. She looked back one time as both wolves sat upon the small hill and watched her; even from the distance she could feel their gaze until she entered the house…..
A few miles away the desert was alive with night time noises... animals howled or hunted in the eerie light of a pale moon.... the sand crackled slightly as it gave up it's warmth easily to the night air. Life returns to the desert, even the town that has been so long dead begins show life. Around the house shadows seemed thicker than elsewhere. Maybe it was just the light seeping through the cracked windows... Inside the air around the couch seemed to grow oppressive, as though something was blocking its free circulation. Red orbs looked down at the sleeping figure, judging if she was quite unconscious yet... a gentle introduction was best... a dream of awakening sexual desire... air coalesced, thickened... hands forming, the bodies behind them still invisible.
The scent of strawberries wafts from the figure. Yes, many changes since he was last aroused, this girl tries to stay clean. Her clothes hang neatly upon wires, all smelling of soap. This one likes to stay clean, he will have to remember that.
Shania moans in her sleep the fire around her.... the nightmare.... the screams of the animals and her parents... the fire around as she runs. Rolling on her side her eyes nearly flicker open then she stills, sliding into a deeper, calmer sleep.
A shivering sense of movement as the girl stirs... quieting again.... waiting... then moving closer... hand shapes cool and dry... very gently sliding onto shoulders and over the curved back… caressing… fondling very gently so as not to wake her... not until she was weakened by need. Awakened with a fore taste of what she shall be. Leather is brought, a sign.
Shania shivers in her sleep, turning onto her back, one arm flopping over her head. The old blanket slides to the floor in a random pile. The white cloth of her shirt clings to her full breasts as her nipples raise white points slowly against the fabric. Round darker colored spots sitting upon the full breasts are visible beneath the white shirt beckoning for attention. Shania brings one shapely smooth leg out from under the cover and rests her foot on the floor. Legs now slightly spread apart, as if tempting the attentions of the nights breeze that flows around and across her body. Her chest heaves upwards with a long intake of breath, and then regains its normal state.
Desire sparks, wanting to move faster, to taste the rain and bring relief to parched mouths. Again a clamping down of wills, slower, …awaken her desire, teach the first lesson well and the drought will come to an end…wills collide and are overcome, the hands move slower, more carefully than they would on their own.
A first gesture, hands gently lift the slim graceful neck and encircle it with the leather band buckling it in place. A momentary pause then, as red eyes stop to admire the smooth symmetry of the neck now encircled by his band. The first step is done; the diminutive creature has been marked. No doubt the act will have to be completed several times before acceptance. The next step….red eyes seem to sparkle with joy at the order.
The hands shift to the movement... some move onto the front of the slim shoulders.... four begin to softly caress the parted legs, working slowly upwards... A couple of the almost invisible hands ease the bottom of the shirt upward a bit, slipping onto the softly taut belly, stroking slow and easy. A button on the top of the sleep shirt finds its way undone; only two remain. More warm soft white skin finds its way to be caressed by the cool night’s breeze. Shania’s lips part in a soft moan as she shivers from the cold touches, her nipples hardening. She shivers again as she opens her thighs, her small body amazingly slow responding to the dry cool caresses. Yet it responds, and the shadows take notice. The hands take it slowly, avoiding the more erogenous zones, allowing the sleeping girl to weave their touch into her dreams, caressing hungrily the pale flesh, feeling hard and calloused against velvety skin.... some almost bony even.... stroking close to breasts... exploring thighs... fondling the soft skin between, close to the naked mound.
Further stirring of memories, there is promise in this one, perhaps….perhaps.
Shania moans as the scent of strawberry, as well as that of purity and virginity wafts from between her well toned thighs. A small dark green spot now appears on the lacy panties as she starts to breathe fast stirring from her deeper sleep. The hands draw back at first, anxious not to wake the girl at this stage.... a low muttering.... a discussion? ... Then the hands push the shirt higher, exposing the firm rounded breasts, ghostly fingertips tracing lightly over tautly curved skin, cold bony fingers running lightly over awakening nipples.... lower down an almost invisible hand cups over her sex, excitedly feeling the growing dampness and squeezing lightly as other hands move over her splayed body.

Ghost town
Chapter 1
Day 3 – The Shaft

The noise of the birds chirping in the window sill having found the remains of bread crumbs in the kitchen rattles across her hearing. Eyelids flutter as the light of day slices its way across the couch and onto her pillow. Shania feels the ebb and flow of blood as it flows through her electrified senses. ‘God do I feel horny’ she thinks and then the images begin to tumble from her jumbled mind. She realizes she has dreamed, closing her eyes to the memory and pulling it back from the depths of her mind.

Ryan had been here, the guy that all the girls talked about at school. He had once taken her out; she could remember the night as his masculine scent had drifted to her during the embrace and first kiss. She had been smitten till that inner voice had spoken, had revealed his intentions, and soon his hands revealed them as well. She had pushed him away that time, last night those hands had traveled her body, and she had reveled in them.

Shania sank back into the sofa, reveling in the sensations once more. Ryan had moved his hands across her belly, just as her own hand now traveled the familiar path. The touch seemed to induce tingles from her skin as it passed, less so than her dreams, but still vivid. Her nipples were still awaiting the touch; she obliged and trailed her hand over her shirt to the turgid mounds. Instantly they engorged themselves, her body reacting to her own touch much as it had in her dreams. She trailed the hand up then to her neck. Eyes fly open, large and round, a dark pupil surrounded by white, both hands upon her neck.

Fingers quickly touched the object that rings her neck, while her body stays on fire. Quickly she works at the clasp and unwinds the ring of leather from her body, bringing it out only to stare at it. A collar of black leather upon which stands several golden diamonds appears in her vision. She regards it and then recalls the dream, the dream of Ryan placing it about her neck, marking her as his…she shuddered, it had felt real then, it was real now….was she losing her mind? Memories surged forth, the leather shop, it had to be the same band…sleep walking? She threw it then on the embers of last nights fire. A ring of silver upon her finger would signify something, the collar; could it signify her darkest fears?

The fear dampened her excitement, her need. Fighting the emotions that raged within she got up to find something to wear for the day. A small pink capsule fell from the shirt she had hidden it in, dangling by wires to the battery pack. Feelings and desires remembered at that sight. It was watertight all of it or so the clerk had said, providing lurid verbal examples of how she used her own. She had never seen one of these before she found herself entering that store in the big city, had been embarrassed when she picked up the package, and yet intrigued enough to keep it, once the clerk had talked with her. That had been an ambush of sorts. To put it back would have shown weakness after her interest. The clerk had then suggested some clothing, which in turn had lead to the clothing aisle. A few items for each area of the body, something for a special occasion and she left. Now just holding the item in her hand was sending Goosebumps down her legs. She could feel her whole body go one pins and needles in anticipation. Yes the mind was a powerful part of sex she thought to herself. Smiling she set down the item next to the tub along with the soap.

“Who’d ah thought you’d really be feeling like this”, the girl giggled, felt her nipples stiff against the fabric of her night shirt, pleasure cascaded through them and into her body at the touch. “Today I guess I learn why the dream is so vivid, got to get the water in the tub…..sleep walking.” A small shake of her head sends blond tresses swirling bouncing in the air in small wiggles.

As she walks back and forth to the iron water spigot, gathering enough for her bath the breeze plays across her body just as the sun warms her skin. The air itself seems to squeeze and pull her clothes against the sensitive areas of her body as if it has learned something about her and has a mind of its own. A smoldering fire resides inside, wanting to be let loose, anticipating the next few hours in pure unadulterated lust. She removes the panties, noticing how damp they are and how wet she feels. One last trip for water, she feels the breeze upon her bare shaved mound, its tendrils playing across her lips as if to part them. Imagination or something unearthly, she sighs at the sensation, ‘never felt like this, to the point even the morning breeze is making me horny.’ She giggles, struggling with the 5 gallon jug as she walks through the open back door, her now damp shirt clinging to her firm breasts.

Her voice rolls through his head over and over, success it tells him, and if he could salivate he would be. She already shows more promise than the last hundred he has trained. Still, the small voice tells him to go slow, not sure yet how fragile the humanity of this one is even as the passion promises to be oh so strong. He saviors the moment, anticipates her flesh beneath his own even as he wonders what the pink device is and its manner of magic.

Shania stands in the room admiring her work as water and sweat drip from her body the day becoming warmer, and the fire within surging through her veins to heat herself anew. She wriggles the slightly wet shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor below, and then steps into the cool waters of her tub. “There has got to be a better way to take a bath around her” she mutters to herself. Liquid soap falls into the tub around her slender legs and ankles. Then hoisting up the 5 gallon bucket she dumps it over her head. Water cascades off her body and splashes where it will; some about the tub, some into the tub. Froth builds on the surface of the water as she had intended, long blond hair now slick against her skin, rivulets of water flowing across the gentle curves and swells of her splendid body.

With a deliberate move she bends at the waste and fills the container for another dousing exposing her prominent mound to the red eyes hiding in the shadows of the room. Legs tighten with the motion, lips resplendent between them. This time she pours the water across her well developed chest, bubble froth moving across rounded mounds and down the flat tight stomach and slender waist to drip from between long open legs. She sits, graceful if not sensual, a dancers former art ingrained in muscle memory. The soapy froth now covers her body, hiding it from direct view, what remains still enticing from the sweep of a shoulder to the lines of the neck. Calves and legs emerge from the water to beacon all with their graceful lines and curves. Slim strong ankles tell of a body built for grace and fine movements.

The apparitions watch her every move with undisguised desire as Shania remains totally unaware of their presence except for the vague sense of her inner self that picks up on the emotions reflected about the room. Her own self conscious feeds off those same emotions of desire as she begins her moves. Eyes close as she leans her head back against the back of the tub. She cocks a leg up and brings it close, allowing hands to glide from ankle upwards, slowly the leg extends, hands gliding down the pale smooth skin till they disappear beneath the bubbles and water. Still the look that plays out over her face tells all, tells that hands have continued on their voyage to the sensitive area between up thrust legs. The scene repeats numerous time, each leg used, caressed as the fire within her builds. She continues to explore her flesh. Hands blindly trace the valley between her breasts then up again to the hollow of her thin sensuous neck. Shania brings her feet back into the tub and the water, legs bent at the knee, knees spread as far as the sides of the tub will allow. One hand plays low, hidden beneath the water as the other moves upwards, over the velvety skin of her large firm breasts that appear now and then atop the water as she breaths and arches her back. A Rhythm develops as water splashes occasionally over the tubs sides to pool on the floor. She sighs, the fire ready to rage out of control and sees Ryan working his hands over her body.

One hand, the lower one, snakes its way over the lip of the tub and pats the wet floor searching. Fingers find the wire first and trace it to the pink nub. Eyelids flutter open as eyes seek to focus, and then refocus on the object held in front of her. With the second hand she grabs the larger cylinder and twists with her index finger. She jumps as the buzzing sounds commences by the object in her right hand. She stifles a giggle, “now we will see if this thing is really worth it”. Settling back into the tub the pink buzzing device settles under the water. She drops the tube between her breasts and reaches down with her arms, squeezing the large mounds between them and pinning the cylinder in the fleshy fold of cleavage that results. “MMMMM…..feels good,” muttering to herself. Hands move under the water, seeking to move the vibrator to its position. She experiments, running it across swollen lips, and over her skin. Finally it touches her clit, a strong intake of breath followed by an exhale that betrays the touch to those that watch her every move. Her eyes clench tightly shut as she moves it again into contact with the engorged and sensitive nub. The vibrations send her body shuttering, she forces herself still so that contact is not lost, runs it along and over the sensitive surface. “AHHHHHHHHHHH” the moan crosses clenched lips, the dam inside bursting as she feels her virgin pussy clench again and again as the sexual tension releases itself in orgasm, the buzzing vibrator all but forgotten as hands seek nipples and pussy, working with the sensation, keeping it alive as long as possible.

The water stops its sloshing within the old battered tub as her body finally slumps in the bath water, resting as breaths come in ragged heaves. Shania’s breasts rise and fall in and out of the water with each breath she takes, revealing the sensitive swollen nipples. She opens her eyes and reaches down to turn off the buzzing pink egg, forgotten for these last few minutes. “if sex is only half as good I could become addicted” she laughs at her own voice and what she has just done….”I can see it now, alone and lonely nympho seeks same”. She rests then, reveling in the after glow. Trying to think of why she had turned away the boys when their imaginations, desires, and hands that had gotten too active.

Deep in the dark still air of the mountain that looms over this lost desert town grins a creature that controls this domain. He notes the pink device and its uses, notes the display of passion and if he could laugh and dance would have been doing so. Yes she will do well, each night he shall seek to bring her a little farther along, each day to watch what the night’s advances will have wrought. If she understood her place and the collar she would be ready for the second circle, perhaps even the third. Some girls never advanced that far, in just one night of work she was ready….this was one that would not be able to slip away. Once she left the house he would send his minions back in and see what other surprises remained in those bags of hers. It was time to get the former tailor busy as well. All would be rewarded, but there was work to be done for know and it was all for her benefit.

There is a grumbling sound in the air as her stomach rolls in complaint, which, combined with the wrinkles now upon her hands cause Shania to proceed to get up out of the cool luxurious water. There is a spring in the step and movements that was not there just yesterday; some of the melancholy already fading away. She dresses; denim cutoffs, her cotton bra and a button down shirt, all topped by the baseball cap and sunglasses. As she buttons the shirt she stops midway and just gathers up the ends tying them in place below her breasts, revealing a tight stomach and rounded belly button. She pulls a mirror from upstairs and moves it downstairs, leans it against the wall and admires the look. “Kid you are smokin’” she blows the smoke from the end of her index finger in mock salute and smiles. New feelings flutter through the slender frame, she finds she likes them, an awaking into a world denied or at least hidden from her before.

With the sun high overhead Shania sets out once again, this time towards the ominous mountain that the town rests upon. The road leads upwards past the church in this direction. Jagged ravines head up into the hills the road following one such. Signs of water flow are in each, probably a good idea to not be in them when it rains she thinks to herself. The air grows hot, perspiration drips off her nose as she walks. The air does not stir; oppressive heat bears down as fingers undo buttons to let the shirt catch what breeze there may be, baring more skin.

Up the steep slopes and then over a ridge, to road continues on she glances to her right during a break and sees something glitter in the rocky defile that leads up the mountain. Curiosity gets the better of her and she heads in that direction.
She works her way over rounded rocks and between the sparse thorny vegetation trying valiantly to keep her tender skin from the scrapes and punctures that come of contact with this rough land. Reaches the point between two rocks and notices a silver item wedged between them. With a pull, her muscles straining on sleek sweat stained arms and pale toned thighs, the rock finally budges and the silver object goes free. Fingers reach down and grasp the object, as the eyes see that she has found a battered old silver pocket watch, a part of its torn chain still hanging from the swivel. Turning it over, she reads the inscription, ‘To my loving husband, from Angelina with love always’.

The name strikes a cord in her memories, dredging them up piece by piece. Her great uncle’s wife was Angelina, a name from a long time past told by the older towns’ people to her when she arrived and had attended the funeral. Could this be a trinket from her recently deceased uncle? Looking about there appears to be more. Shreds of leather, perhaps a bag of some sort, buried almost to the top in the sand of the ravine. Intrigued, she bends to the task of removing the sand from around the old object. After some time and the removal of copious amounts of sand and rocks she finds the item to be fairly free. With a pull on the cloth and leather…straining ever harder, furrows lining her forehead with the effort the bag gives way and disintegrates as it comes up, sand and dirt spewing in a dusty trail upon the ground in front of her.

The sudden give of the ground causes Shania to pitch backwards, the jeans saving her posterior from the rocky ground as she lands hard. “ommpff”, sound issues past the tightly clenched lips as she lays upon her back, the leather bag scattering its contents about the sand as it falls apart and finally settles upon her stomach and between her legs. She looks at the small pieces of gold and wonders aloud about what she has found. “Gold?, …what, never came here to be a treasure hunter…what could it be worth?”. Long legs fold under her and lift her back up, as eyes survey the broken ground and the litter that lays upon it. “Damn, but there is a lot here….gotta have something to carry it in.” With a deep breath and a sigh she removes her shirt and places the various golden pieces upon it. As she picks up the gold she notices the worn leather binder still in the sand. Gathering it up she carefully unwraps the cord that encircles in after all these years. Papers of some sort show their faded yellow edges to her, frail looking and ancient she decides it would be best not to remove them. She wraps it all in her shirt and ties the sleeves with the shirt bottom to build small sack to haul it with.

Wiping the sweat from her forehead she looks at the road that continues upwards and decides to press on. Something deep inside calls her up the road as she walks in the hot dry desert air. Feels it in her bones were it resonates through her body. Her fear of it seeks to stop her, yet something compels her forwards, not so much outright curiosity but rather the fear of not knowing what may lay ahead. Over the next small ridge she sees the old left over tailings and the black opening in the face of the hill. The road runs right up to the face of what was a mine. Rumors abounded as to its existence, the fact the town had been founded on a gold mine that one day had stopped producing any thing at all she had heard over and over. To see it now, not well hidden, surprising that no one had every come back to investigate. Could it still have gold after all these years? Is this why her uncle had decided to stay on alone all those years? Is this what a lonely recluse guarded, and the gold in her bag, could it be related? She had to see for herself.

The shirt held gold; she looked at it with the hot sun on her back, noticing how some of those golden rocks had started a small tear. “not doing well girl, not even home and the shirt, ruined….what now?”…Green eyes scan the area finding nothing that will help put an end to the problem at hand. “I’m out in the middle of nowhere, nobody is around….bathing suits are smaller….really its ok…” A second glance about; wondering why she again felt like she was being watched. Yet with the idea, comes a feeling of reassurance that all is well. Strange how the thoughts ebb and flow in her mind. The denim shorts fall to the ground as she wiggles her legs and slides them off revealing the sexy little red thong she wears. Using her shorts to make a better sling, the shirt inside serving as the first layer, solves the problem for now. She works in the hot sun, naked now but for the bra, panties and hat. She has to wonder what possessed her to put on the thong in the first place. The blush crosses her cheeks, as she recalls how horny she had felt this morning. The thong just made her feel sexy inside. It was another first, one of the items gathered at that store.

That store, she recalls the fear of embarrassment that had coursed through her when she had stepped across the threshold. Everywhere she looked had been a world never before seen by her own eyes. The sales clerk had been nice, suggested a few things probably even noticed her discomfort. She had bought some of them, like the pink egg that rested in her bag, once again neatly stowed away. The items she now wore were more, as well as the other outfits, meant for a special someone in her future. As it was now, she was glad she had gone in and bought the things. The more she thought about it the more she felt herself getting worked up again….done with those thoughts….banish them…the echo still played at the edges of her mind, trying to entice her back as she walked down the path.

A need to know, it drove her now as it had in that store. Stepping out, she made her way to the mine, hips swinging just a little more with each step. A new bounce was in her step, one that was not there earlier, getting more pronounced as she approached the dark entrance that sat upon the mountain face. She felt the intense play of fear and curiosity upon her. Felt the strange clothing that was barely there and made her feel more naked than she was. Something deep in her mind called to her with an almost overwhelming desire to loose the last of the clothing and her inhibitions. She dropped the package on the corner of the rusting iron ore car and proceeded towards the entrance. A refreshing breeze sprung up as she entered the darkened shaft and wrapped itself about her pushing the heat of the day to the side with its cool presence.

It floated at the edge of her consciousness, a whisper from deep with in her of desire and fear. She stopped. Felt again the overwhelming desire and trembled. Whether from the dark shaft that swam before her or her own fear to continue she could not tell. Air nudged at her body as if to guide it deeper into the cool dark tunnel with its enormous weight of rock pressing in from all sides. It flowed from behind and around her as if to caress as well. With furtive looks her eyes roam about the darkening passage, seeing the strange shapes of the rocks, the darkened timbers that hold up the ceiling and keep it from closing in on her. There is nothing in the gloom of the darkened cave, light from outside already having trouble reaching the point she has attained. Nothing is here the physical senses tell her, her inner voice however, tells her that eyes dance upon her body in fascination and delight. Still her own senses see nothing in turn. She leans her back against the cave wall, only for a moment….to catch her breath, to let the fear drain from her already tense senses. The cool hard rock digs into her soft skin as blood pulses through veins and sings its own song of life and need.

The entity watches as she closes her eyes and sighs blissfully as the mild breeze he controls plays over her perfect body. He can feel his own madness of need deep within developing as lust and desire cascade through his ancient body. The young girl’s well-developed curves enhance her lithe form and tease him unmercifully and he both curses and honors the fates that have brought her so close. He wills her to continue, to show him first hand what she is capable of. He thinks of the large breasts, which look even larger when contrasted with the slender waist below, and thinks of the uses he could make of them and her. Yet he remains silent.
Eyes stare at nothing, seemingly lost in the haze of the cave. Movement though begins; the body reacts while the mind goes still. She begins to run her hands over the soft, sleek skin of her torso, playing atop the binding bra, flirting with her own touch. Hands blindly trace the hollow of her throat and then downwards onto the soft cotton and lace that lays upon her breasts. Down the fingers go till they can hook the underside of the bra and force it up and over her large breasts, exposing them to her fingers. The fingers continue to explore the soft velvety skin. Red orbs further in the darkness watch with fascination and growing hunger as she continues to work herself into the frenzy of pleasure she has shown herself so capable of.
Perspiration gathers more thickly upon the gorgeous body slowly gathering in rivulets to accent the curves as it travels down her luscious form. Shania cups her breasts in each of her hands, taking their weight, while thumbs and forefingers reach upwards to tease erect nipples, pinching them in growing pleasure. Shania’s mouth opens now, breath coming in gasps at the growing excitement that builds within her. At the edge she senses, not for the first time, the adoring eyes that follow her every move. She strengthens her play for those eyes, begins to move a hand down her flat stomach, feeling the growing excitement in herself and her unseen lover.
Hungry red eyes watch from deep within the folds of darkness that have been his home. Watches as fingers glide across flesh that torments him with desire. Once again the age of man has changed, this female of their species comes before him in clothing that entices his desires and makes him look upon her as more than naked. Wishes the fingers lower, to push aside the dainty cloth and reveal herself to him. Is rewarded as those fingers do his bidding, not entirely his magic that, no she is filled with it as well he belatedly realizes. She is one with his desires as she feeds her own. Oh to posses such a woman, it makes him shudder to think of what she will be like.
Fingers, as if directed by the unseen force that exists in these cool dark shafts beneath the desert mountain, plunge in and out of her sopping wet channel as she makes love to them. Her other hand plays across her body as if guided by something else, yet her subconscious knows the truth, knows it’s in charge, finally having been released from the fettered bonds of modesty, morality, and rules that chain the conscious in its own form of slavery. For a moment she is unbound and free, it will be a while yet before the profound nature of this transition will be understood by her entire self. For now she becomes one with her desire.

She blinks, time has gone still; she realizes with a start that her lace bra is rolled up atop her proud breasts, one hand upon a hardened nipple, the other hand pushing the bottom of the thong aside as a finger plunges into her own hot wet shaft. Then with her next breath she shudders as the orgasm wafts through her body and her consciousness fully returns. Pleasure wafts through her begging her to continue. At last, an awareness of the nature of what she has done, here of all places, slowly ebbing through her modest nature.

The cool walls of the cave press into her back, as her responding body comes back under the control of her mind. She can’t believe she has blanked out in an orgy of pleasure. Looking at the watch upon her supple wrist she realizes the passage of time, over 2 hours gone in the blink of an eye. In that moment she feels it for the first time in her legs and arms as the sensations of tired and worn limbs protest any exertion. Slowly she comes back to her senses. Her inner thighs are wet with perspiration…and she slowly realizes with renewed modesty, her own cum. What is the meaning of all this? To become so wonton and inhibited in the darkness of a cave? That she has blanked out in a total display of desire and passion, bringing herself to orgasm over and over, not even fully realizing it till now….time gone. She smells the scent of her sex below her noise, tastes it in her mouth and wonders, wonders at what she is becoming out here alone in this desert. The feelings of desire, need, and fear.... those feelings drive her legs as she exits the cave in haste and internal torment. Wonders deep inside what she is feeling; is it her or something else?

The sun is low on the horizon as she exits the darkness of the cave. Here eyes go to narrow slits as pupils close and grow accustomed to the light of day once again. Still the summer heat holds the air. She looks at her package and feels the swollen nipples hard against the bra, so sensitive the fabric hurts them. Drinking some of her water and then splashing some more over her head and front, she feels the rivulets cool her skin as they quickly evaporate into the hot dry evening. She sets off then, looking around one more time, half expecting to see another watching her intently. As she scans the hills falling into deeper shadow Her eyes are drawn by a slight movement. There sitting on some rocks in the distance a pair of large wolves’ watch her every move. They watch as she walks; breasts and hips swaying freely in the breeze, bouncing with each step. ‘So that’s the eyes I keep feeling on me today’, she idly thinks. Deeper in the cave the entity rejoices at the spring in her step and the wavering modesty.

As long as it’s just a few animals she might as well show them she was in control. Up comes her head, pride it says, confidence it echoes. Each step brings her closer to home and true safety. With that she proceeds to her town, her home, thong and hat, playing to the wolves who watch her. Strutting on long legs, letting her hips sway and her breasts bounce. She feels alive, more so with each passing day in this place of barrenness. God help the first man she sees, he was liable to get jumped! The breeze only keeps the feeling alive as it plays across her naked sensitive skin, a breeze that if she was really thinking about it shouldn’t have been doing what it was doing. For now it simply feels good, a lovers caress after a long session of lovemaking,,,

AHHHHHH, so close, but if she had come two more steps he may have lost her forever. He swore, in languages long dead, had been able to see her, watch her play her body for his enjoyment for hours….and not been able to touch that pale willing flesh. He cursed those that had cursed him. With time and energy he might be able to break the bounds that kept him in this prison of sorts. He needed her in more ways than he was presently willing to admit. She had to be the one, the fates had tempted him and he had done right. He had done right to let her go from his presence until she would be willing and able to satisfy his cravings. He had many, and his taste varied greatly, she would be trained and perhaps the drought would finally end. He could regain his place in men’s lives; regain much of his lost power. He watched her leave, watched her through the many eyes and saw the sway of hips and the bounce of breasts, rejoiced in them and cursed them at the same time. Time…time….time would tell. For now let her see his power in another way…orders are given, compliance mandatory.
A stomach growls at the indiscretion of its owner, protesting loudly the lack of food as she springs upon the porch steps and bounces through the front door, “oh honey, I’m home” she calls out. To bad their will be no dinner on…..the thought ends, she walks to the side of the couch and sees the filled tub, bubbles floating on its surface, the clothes, dirty before today hanging on a line running across her living room. She breathes in through her nose and smells her scent upon the water, strawberries mixed with the crushed petals of wild flowers. Mouth hangs open, pondering who, or what. Childhood stories of elves and other helpful creatures come to mind. A towel is laid out on the neatly folded blanket. Atop it sits her pink clit vibrator almost like it is expected that she will use it. Upon the couch next to them, is a plate of cut oranges and some canned meat and bread. ‘Elves….right,’ she thinks, “Ok, you can come out now”. Nothing but the breeze moves in the room. She drops the bundle of clothing and gold, covers her exposed breasts with an arm, suddenly feeling utterly exposed and naked. There are better ways to cover her naked form; it does not take long for her to edge over to the couch. The towel makes its way to her hands first, the pink egg discarded as it tumbles onto the seat of the couch. Quickly she wraps it around herself, her nakedness falling to the modesty that she has grown up with her entire life. Others inhabit her home, have violated her privacy, and have seen her…seen her as only her mother and father did the day she was born…
“Who are you?”, she begins to feel the cold bite of fear, “show yourself,…now!” Her foot hits the ground for effect, the sound echoing off the walls in the room reverberating in her ears.
“All right this is downright creepy,…..enough already…” she cries out. She moves about the room looking out the windows towards the orange hues in the sky and sees nothing and no one. Running now, from room to room the house is covered from top to bottom and still nothing…’what does one do, accept the abnormal, or fear it….’, she wonders, feels the dirt, sweat, and grime among other things upon her skin.
“Damn it, show yourself…..please”, the last added in a plaintive tone. Still nothing moves, the shadows remain mere shadows. “Ok, just stay away and let me use the bath in privacy….so help me, if I see a thing move ….I’ve got a knife and I’ll use it”. It seems strange to make such a plea to the walls about the living room. Still it is comforting in a strange sort of way. With towels and old sheets she sets to the task of covering the windows and settles back finally to admire her handiwork. It is a minor triumph in a world gone strangely mad.
Feeling clean again wins out, now that she ha a modicum of privacy assured. But for her own safety and piece of mind the knives are gathered and placed were they can be quickly gotten to. Too many silly horror movies play through her head….run they say, but she has no place to run to. It pays to be prepared even when nothing of what has occurred that points to a pending malicious act. The bath is much more discrete than the mornings…she keeps her nakedness hidden, first beneath the water, and then beneath the towel.
With stomach full and body clean weariness overtakes her tired body, not accustomed to the exertions she has put it through. Night has fallen and with it the crickets have come from their hiding places to sing their songs of mating. She sits back on the couch, her halter-T tight across her chest, the high cut panties accenting her bare legs. She puts the blanket against the top of the couch for later as the desert night cools. For now the heat is heavy even though the sun has set. Her legs muscles ache and long strong fingers work at the soreness, pushing at muscle through skin, stretching it, working at it. It doesn’t take long before she lays back, head on the pillow, blond hair spilling over its folds in an angelic halo about her face. Eyes close and immediately darkness overcomes lulling her to sleep. The tub remains full, to be dealt with on the morrow.
She dreams as previous nights. Her phantom lovers hold her, then begin their touch, she allows it, even goes so far as to take there hands in hers and guides them. Hands work her flesh and move over cloth. More hands than a single lover would have, but it is a dream and dreams have a way of not making sense…when it feels so good and right you let it go. There is no fear this night, nothing to slow the relentless caress that brings joy to her rest. She drifts, unaware of time as it passes, feeling as if she never really sleeps, enjoying the caresses of her dream lovers.
Legs spread wide; this time lopping one up and over the backside of the couch while the other foot finds the floor. She grants Ryan the access he seeks; she wants him to drive deep inside her, is rewarded as she feels his desire to do so in every action and nuance. His face swims before hers, sees his hungry red burning eyes, and then tilts her head back to allow him access to the full length of her neck. Small nibbles and kisses flow down her neck, and then gently reaching beneath her he fastens the leather band about it. It makes him happy and so she allows the gift to be given, yet a small part of her shivers in turn as if there is a deeper significance some how lost. She belongs, belongs to her lover and welcomes him.
The white cloth of her T-shirt clings to her full breasts as her fully erect nipples raise white points slowly against the fabric. Round darker colored spots sitting upon the full breasts are visible beneath the white shirt begging for attention. The lovers do as she asks and work the round orbs with their tall points. Her own hands help them, squeezing the sides of her breasts and pushing them taller. She feels the cloth being pulled upwards off her stomach and shifts her back, letting the cloth wriggle its way up and over her breasts. This time the touch carries the wetness of a mouth, as first lips work there way over her mounds and then teeth tease her sensitive flesh. Both breasts, at the same time get the treatment and still the hands work her legs, her arms, even her face. A cool bony finger works its way into her mouth and she plays with it, sucking it deeper and then nibbling on the flesh. Her chest heaves upwards with a long intake of breath, and then regains its normal state.
She has shown willingness. It must be the time….The answer is no, but a compromise as the pink orb is brought up. Yes, let her believe that she does this to herself. Already the doubts are there, already the confusion at what events occur from her own hand or the hand of others.
Shania continues head long towards eventual climax, body and tired mind respond to each touch, each new onslaught. Ryan works a little further than the night before as mouths come to play. She feels him all around her, envelops her psyche in his and envelops her body in his touch. With her breasts attended to, new hands begin to work there way down her legs.
The hands move faster, not avoiding the more erogenous zones, not tonight. The girl will weave far more into her dreams after tonight, will think she is responsible but will wonder, will wonder and long for their touch anyway. They have been given leave to do so. Wetness appears upon the white cotton panties invigorating the quest to set her off, numerous times if possible.
A slight moan fills the room with its sound as the scent of her cum mingles with the scent of strawberry. A familiar buzz reaches her ears, yet she has trouble placing it given the sleep induced fog in her brain. The hands once again move down her stomach, this time gong under the panties elastic strap, down her curving mound to the swollen lips of her sex. She lifts herself towards them in anticipation, feels a slick surface, vibrating against her skin following the same path. Another finger slips from down her inner thigh and past the elastic about the panties leg holes to her wet channel. She moans again, soft and sweet. The hands move to faster exploration of her hidden flesh. The cool slick vibrating surface moves about her mound as shivers roll across her body. She works to guide it against her swollen clit. Feels it for a moment and then it is off to the side, shifts again to bring it in alignment and is satisfied as it thrums against her. Breaths quicken and come in heaves as she pumps her hips against the device in excitement. The pleasure and euphoria crash over her as eyes flutter open and closed, AHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhh, over and over it crashes, the vibrations driving her wild with delight. Nipples are pulled with her movements and the pain mixes with the pleasure….pain?
Shania sits up her green eyes wide and instantly aware. The buzz of her vibrator fills her ears, the end stuffed into her panties the trailing wires attached to a device in her own hands. The warm pulsing sensations of her ebbing orgasm washed away with the sudden surge of adrenaline as her body goes to an instant fight or flight mode. With nothing to fight flight wins.
With a yelp she rolls away then scampers, half staggering half crawling away from the couch... the room dark save for the red glow of the dying fire. In the dim light the shadowy, almost translucent shapes could be anything.... the stuff of children's nightmares... but the ghostly howl of a coyote sounds so close, so unearthly... on top of the traumatic loss of her parents it's just too much... Her eyes grow wide then, the green white-rimmed as she sees the shapes, not human...yet strangely hinting at human.... the red glow of the fire giving the shadows the hint of red glowing eyes, staring at her, making her feel naked and exposed. With a scream she jumps and dashes up the stairs to the horrid smell, yet here was a door that she could slam behind her. Shania’s fingers tremble as she slides the lock bolt in then turns and slides down the door to hug her knees tightly to her.... the night around her now eerily quiet as she waits the dawn, wide eyed and afraid. Her tight pussy still quivers though, wet and aroused, the pink orb still buzzing, forgotten in the haste . Her mind only dimly aware of the arousal she feels as she holds her self tightly, fear winning for the time being. As she gathers herself together she finally turns off the orb and sighs.
Yes, all were aware of the passion that they had started to invoke. All wished to continue the magic, but the stronger hand prevailed…the girl would be allowed this moment. The time would come; the thirst would be quenched in her. Still the town broods sullenly through the dark night. Invisible forms patrol the streets sleeplessly, watching the little house, eager for the girl within, yet held back. Are they aware that they are guided, or do they think they operate freely? Who knows? Something came into the town that night over 100 years ago, something old and evil. Now it permeates the buildings, hovers in the spaces between them, turning everything to its own ends Do the translucent shapes remember that night… or the other nights before. Maybe they remember about a year before 'that night'. A strange black clad figure riding in out of the desert, his honeyed words so beguiling... "Follow me, do as I say, and you'll have all the gold you can imagine..." And some followed him. Followed him into strange paths where incantations mixed with incense and black clouds formed over desecrated altars.
Maybe they remembered the exalting sense of power as the others, the ordinary people of the town huddled behind locked doors at night. Ah, the power.... power of life and death, power to rape and abuse.... until 'that night' That Night. The night the townspeople broke, hours after finding the body of little Lucy, barely 9... And what had been done to her.... People gathering quietly behind the saloon called to action, knowing what they had to do, steeling themselves with whisky and brave words. Then taking unlit torches and making their way quietly, hesitantly to the old mine where the black-clad stranger had set up his headquarters.
Few of the townsfolk slept well for the rest of their lives. Few of them stayed in the town more than a couple of months. The lurid scene crept into dreams and set throats screaming into wakefulness. The black altar.... the young girl naked and twisted, face contorted with pleasure as something.... some thing took her... then the cries of anger... the shots... and finally the fire...
No one ever approached that mine again.
A few of the tougher men started to open a new mine. But they tended to have... accidents... the whole mountain seemed cursed by what had happened in its bowels. And that curse spread over the town, killing it's vitality as the population dwindled, until only one old man remained.... and until today when the lost souls of the black-clad stranger’s followers roamed the abandoned town and something, trapped here by the incomplete ceremony lurked and directed them. Certainly it could cause physical effects itself, move small objects, but it's power mainly lay in it's control of it's dead disciples. But it wanted more. It needed a willing, live slave to bring other warmly alive bodies close enough.... The old man had been too stubborn, too rooted to the one place to make the slave needed. So he had been allowed to live in the hopes he would attract others. Now in death he had attracted one who was much more suitable... if she could be ... persuaded............
The spirit could have opened the bolt, to allow its followers into the room. But it could not afford a mistake. The girl must be functional but owned, utterly obedient but undamaged. So it waited for the dawn and her recovery.
Shania calmed as the long night wore on... this one not the first time she had sat awake.... the terrible deaths of her parents and destruction of the farm by the rogue wildfire had marked her... in ways she didn’t know it had toughened her yet left her fragile… in need... the need to be touched...held ... caressed... this need is what her body and deep mind had responded to. As her breathing slows, she feels the weight upon her neck. Hands move and flutter about the leather, finding the buckle. Eyes go wide, knowing that something, someone once again has put it there. The buckle is unlatched by slender fingers. Pulling it off, she looks at the gold adorned black leather band with its simple gold buckle, wondering as she turns it over in her hands, finally throwing it into a corner, discarded and forgotten.
She dozes fitfully near dawn then starts awake as the sun shines hot through the window and across her shapely leg... "I … I … don’t belong here... I don’t belong anywhere now. But according to the sheriff there’s that offer from the bank for the land about... but I still can’t sell ‘til the papers are finalized and that is three months yet…" Climbing stiffly to her feet as she unbolts the door and carefully heads downstairs, stopping half way to lean down and look... her pale hair like gold in the light. A length of leather sits upon the floor its significance once again lost upon the young girl.
The shades had been directed to leave the house. Everything looks deserted and normal... Out in the street forms are once more thinned to translucence, eyes flicker so palely as to be almost invisible in the hard light. When she leaves the house the leather will be retrieved. She shall know soon enough, understanding always takes a little more time. For now, time is what he has.

Ghost town
Chapter 1
Day 4 – Church

Shania almost wretches to the scent that assails her nostrils as the morning sun cascades its future warmth across the room, bathing it in light. Nothing has bothered her during her stay in the room, even the dreams have not come back in their vividness. ‘Am I cursed’, she wonders, ‘a repressed slut’. But there is no answer, no simple truth. She thinks back to her mother and wonders what she would think, what would her brother think? Would they curse her too for the feelings that had grown deep within her as she discovered herself in this desert hell away from others? Or would they understand and marvel at her happiness and sexual awakening? She doubted the later, thought about church and god and sin.

“Why”, she cries aloud, and then wonders silently, ‘why has everything in my life gone wrong? Everyone that I’ve loved has passed away in tragedy. Has god sought fit to punish me for some unknown transgression? Perhaps it is all been gods test, perhaps I need to go and discover the truth. There is still a church in town, would it have the answers she sought, much like she had been lead to believe as a child and young teenager. Maybe, yes, maybe there was an answer to all that had befallen her, maybe there was a way to lift the curse.’

Looking about she sees a possible link with her currant fate. The pink orb sits upon the floor under her thoughtful gaze as she ponders if this was her original sin, a sin of seeking selfish pleasure. Had she fallen prey to the sales clerk with her delightful smile and soft words of encouragement? She would leave it in this room she decided, the temptation of its pleasure and the things it had shown to her mind and body would be too great to avoid. Perhaps that would stop the dreams, the lust she even now felt. She hoped that she had not damned herself to the fires of hell already, the many sermons of her childhood playing at the edges of her sanity.

After listening intently at the door for what seemed hours, refusing to breath for fear of missing some tell tale sound that would give away those that stalked her until the blood pounds within her ears and her lungs threaten to scream. Only then does she carefully and quietly slide the bolt on the door back. Opening the door but a crack she peers as best she can down the empty corridor. It moves a little further open, this time with a creak load enough to wake all the creatures of the house. Her heart catches in her throat with the noise and she stops in mid movement. She scarcely dines to breath as her ears seek out any sound. Her heart pounds in her temples as she steps from the room, wondering what she will find. ‘Stupid Shania, stupid’…she thinks as she remembers leaving all the knives behind in her haste to find sanctuary…

Slowly she makes her way down the old wooden stairs of her home, the now familiar course grain of the boards under her toes; only twice do the boards creak. Each time she stops and holds her breath till she is forced to draw another in order to keep herself from passing out. Summoning what courage she has left as her heart pounds within her chest she continues downward, legs like lead, into the simple parlor, dreading entering the living room. It was the room she had to enter to get her sun dress, perhaps the easiest to hurriedly put on and the most modest of the outfits she had, a fitting attribute to her current mental state. Looking around the corner with wide set eyes she scans the room with its rumbled blanket laying upon the floor at the foot of the couch…..not a thing has changed, the room seeming just as she had left it only hours before.

The sundress hangs upon the line, a simple pattern of small flowers dancing across its surface. With adrenaline driven haste she pulls it over her head and smoothes it down her torso, careful to avoid brushing hands across any of her bountiful assets. Gathering up a pair of socks and her sneakers, she quickly and without fuss puts them on, trying to be on her way as soon as possible. Into the kitchen she scampers, gathering up a granola bar and an orange. Her hands seek out the water container and fill it. The kitchen backdoor gently swings in the breeze. There she pauses if only for a second, looking out into the open air, the mountain behind the town looking purple in the morning light, scanning for any signs of movement.

The door opens more fully as her hand comes along side its worn surface and pushes. Moving straight out onto the parched ground she works her way to the familiar old door with the half moon cut into it. Something’s can’t wait. After a quick stop at the outhouse she proceeds down the road, past the dry goods and hardware stores, carefully avoiding getting too close to any of the buildings. Yet for all her care and worry nothing in the town moves. Not even a breeze blows anymore. ‘Too quite’, her paranoid mind tells her. ‘Calm down and think’, says the other side. Nothing watches her, the town is dead, nothing moves in its environs. Is she truly going insane…paranoid delusions?

His minions sharply admonished for their lack of restraint the night before, watch silently from the hidden shadows, giving the young girl room. She stands in front of the one place they cannot enter in this town. The one place that still defies their journeys, but she will return, she will be able to live only so long in that place….they dream of when they will be able to be free….free to fulfill hers and their desires to the fullest.

She stares at the church door and wonders what she will discover today. Do the elves and fairies that play with her mind exist or has she made them up to hide herself from the pleasures of the body she has encountered. Are they an excuse to herself so she may act in self indulgence, or are these feelings good and real, something she will be allowed to enjoy. To this end she opens the doors to the one place that perhaps the answers lay, a concept feed her from early childhood. It is a small hope, and with it perhaps a chance to question the god of her parents on why ….why her. Her foot passes the threshold of the door and her body fells instantly weighed down. The atmosphere is stifling hot, yet she continues by veritable force of will. Before the altar with its unadorned cross she kneels in supplication. The rituals of her youth lead her in prayer, perhaps not proper but earnest at least.

“God in heaven, please forgive me of the sins of my indiscretion and hear me and provide your direction for my life.” The quite voice asks earnestly. Stays kneeling as eyes watch through windows, noticing how long she can retain a position of submission. “Lord, pleaseee, what is to become of me?” An hour ticks by without a move, sweat pools between her knees and the hard wood floor, drips from the end of her nose upon her hands tightly clenched below. The room grows ever hotter under the mid morning sun as it climbs higher into the sky. She breaks her stance to drink and see for the first time the heavy book upon the altar, its pages yellow with the passage of time. She stands and walks to the book, glancing to its pages a passage catches her eye and spills across her vision:

Job 36
10 He openeth also their ear to discipline, and commandeth that they return from iniquity.
11 If they obey and serve him, they shall spend their days in prosperity, and their years in pleasures.
12 But if they obey not, they shall perish by the sword, and they shall die without knowledge.
The text is old and hard to read but strikes her the all the same. She wonders how she will know the discipline she shall open too. How will she know what and whom to obey? Does she obey the inner voice inside her? Has she not become prosperous in a way, and does she not live in pleasure as she listens to the inner voice that calls her. Life beckons, She has done what she can to live, her family struck down by the sword in a moment and they had lived the conventional ways….is it a sign, truth…Did they take the wrong path in life. Suddenly a gust of air blows through the building, pages flap upon the great book upon the alter… Another passage catches her eye upon the now still pages.
Psalm 16
10 For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell; neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption.
11 Thou wilt shew me the path of life: in thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.
“Yes lord, you would not leave me in hell. It is your will I am here, to find joy in your presence, and pleasures evermore.” Her heart flutters, is it a truth she wonders. It is ok to find the pleasures you have shown me. She kneels again in supplication to ponder the truths before her. Stillness again within the sanctuary, a sanctuary that feels dead, that stifles you in its heat and lack of air. She waits for yet another sign.
Tears stroll down her checks in earnestness and hope. She remembers the past, the tortured path she has had to take. Would a god truly destroy all that was close to you in a fireball? Feeling cut off and dead inside, she ponders the words, life was outside these walls, pleasure was outside these walls, the building feels more like a tomb of some forgotten dead with each passing moment. As time seems to drag she thinks more of the pleasures and joys she has discovered. Did her Sunday school have it all wrong? Is that what has been revealed to her? Her stomach cries out, the granola and orange long gone. She stands, any god that would have created what she has felt would want you to explore it….yes, she walks down the aisle, her dress clinging to her in from the perspiration upon her skin.
Immediately as her foot passes the threshold she feels the cooling breeze, feels the desire of the life around her, the world alive and right. Familiar sensations wrap themselves about her as birds’ chirp, the breeze flows by, playing at her skin, and the sun warms all in its heat. Life, it is about living, enjoying. She pondered then how she had always been disciplined and had always obeyed her elders, leaning on their wisdom of experience. Owing all that she currently possessed to them, was that the positive spin on all that had happened, it had taken her to a place where she could grow, live, feel truly alive for the first time in her life. Was this what it meant to be alive; just days before she would never have had the courage of mind to believe any of this. Freedom to explore and seek lifes blessings, yes, it was good to be alive.
Her hips once again swayed, she found pleasure in the mere act and sensed that others would as well. That must be good, and she laughed; a loud uninhibited laugh that bounced of old wooden walls to echo and fill the spaces of this empty town with mirth and joy. Slowly but surely as she spent time in this place she was feeling more and more free she realized. Stopping to unbutton the front of the dress, then pull and wriggle in the middle of the road to get the sodden T-shirt off from under it, feeling the coolness of the breeze enwrap itself immediately upon her skin. Free at last of the layers, like shedding her modesty, one piece at a time. With her free hand she pulls the straps of her dress back over shoulders lifting the fabric back across her pendulant orbs. Not really caring if they got displayed or not at this point…but the sun was playing havoc with her skin, better to get it under the protective fabric after yesterday. With the ball of cloth secured in her hand she preceded down the road to her house, a new bounce in her step. All was going to be all right.
Matted blonde hair clung around the face of the young girl as she bounded up the steps in the front of the house she found to be more a home day by day. She still remembered the terror of the previous night, but found a new way of thinking about it…..that man was allowed this indulgence created by god. She had not sought it out, instead it sought her out. Therefore it was acceptable in all eyes, for she served it not. Last night she had stopped it, nothing had happened after that moment….could it be benevolent? Was it even real, and not something she made up to somehow protect herself? Everything was open once again to discussion.
Feeling the crusted salt of dried perspiration across her entire body, she just wanted to just sit in a tub of water and clean herself. Wondered as she crossed into the living room just how long it would take to get the tube ready.
The entity watched and got ready to play his next hand…slow and steady he would work her training. Eventually he would reveal more of himself as she grew accustomed to her new life….If he could truly be happy he would be dancing now. He would test her acceptance of the first circle today….at this rate she might be ready for him in under a months time…lesser girls never made it this far, lesser girls he had dealt with too quickly and they had failed him in his hour of need. This one was worth the wait; he would ensure her success as a good master should.
The tub was no where to be seen. Not only was it empty but it was not even in the room, she paused there in the doorway wandering what else had changed. Yes, there upon the back of the couch sat a plate, food of some sort probably perched upon it, she proceeded to it, the smell was heavenly and reminded her of how little she had eaten thus far. As she glanced about the room she ate she noticed the makeshift curtains were gone from the windows allowing the light and breeze to dance across the room.
So the unseen servants had been here, done her cleaning and prepared the room for her arrival. They were real…it gave her pause as she thought about the red eyes from the night before. Eyes she had feared; eyes that had not followed her. Next to the plate was an envelope atop the towel, one word upon its surface….Shania in fancy script. The lettering was perfect in its lines and swirls; she wished that she had half the ability. Lifting it, she noticed the blank leather band with its gold coiled beneath. The cursed band was back, she left the letter then, deciding she would eat, then perhaps if her curiosity got to her she would read it…see what it had to do with the band that had always found its way to her throat.
Gathering herself on the coach she eats slowly, savoring the spices and warmth of the meal. The biscuit is light and fluffy, something that she, on her own, had never mastered. The gravy was hearty….it filled her and settled her stomach. During it all she occasionally found herself staring at the envelope, eyes drifting back to its surface, wondering what new missive would be inside. She was almost afraid to look, her mind wandering towards all manner of invites and things that it could portend. The meal gone she at last summoned the courage to slide it open, curiosity providing the final additional incentive.
Your bath awaits in the bath house,
Yours truly….
The words enticed her mind with their many meanings, so simple in their direction, yet so complex in the number of possibilities that this could lead to. What do you wear to a bath? It was absurdly funny, she thought as laughter bounced of the walls of her room. Her secret admirer wanted to provide her with a bath. Her heart fluttered, fear and desire mixed and danced in her head. Do all new lovers feel this way, she contemplated, is this the same as the pre-marriage jitters that make a bride run from her wedding day? So much in those simple little words, she had no idea what they really meant…or if they meant anything beyond what they really said. If they did mean more what would her reaction be? What should it be? “One step at a time girl, just one step at a time”, she muttered under her breath, slowly gaining control of her tortured thoughts.

She picked up the leather band and flipped it over in her fingers. The note had said nothing about it, but somehow it was a piece of the puzzle. Perhaps it was a mere decoration that something found attractive, or had a fetish about. If so it would do no harm to wear it for the ones that seemed to have done so much for her she reasoned. Bringing the leather to her neck with slim dexterous fingers she put it in place. From previous experience she knew she would soon forget about it, the surface light upon her neck, soft enough to not restrict any movements. With that she stood and gathered up the towel, curious at where this next move would lead.

The sun stood high overhead, its radiance heating the ground and air of the desert to a sweltering oven. Yes, she thought a cool bath in the afternoon would be just the thing for getting through the heat. She longed for air conditioning, or at least a pool….thought about having one built out here to use, skinny dipping wouldn’t be such a scary dare anymore….her town, it was sounding better all the time….unless it meant that she really was going crazy by being alone out here!

Shania stepped into the barber shop and bath house just as she had two days ago, though this time there was far more anticipation and fear than the last. The emotions fought one another in a constant battle that brought her past the threshold in tentative steps, not sure what she would see and what would happen to her. All about her the changes stood out in stark contrast to her previous visit. Cleanliness greeted her eyes, everywhere. The dust was gone as if the business was ready for customers once again. The chairs stood ready for their future occupants, scissors and razors gleamed in the light. She spun on her heal then, courage deserting her and raced from the building across the street to the Saloon. It to was clean as if awaiting business....as she raced about, perspiration building and sliding down her body, she noted that all the businesses with the faded red cross where clean, the others stood as they had before…empty.

She stopped in the middle of the street, sun drying the wetness of exertion from her body with its searing heat. Stood staring at the barbershop once again….’what lived here? What would do this? Most importantly perhaps, ‘what would it want from her?’

The yell echoed from the walls of the building closest, a forceful explosion of air from her lungs carried the it off to far away mountains, “What do you want from me?”. Face red from the exertion. Didn’t really expect an answer, shoulder slumping some what again, in a normal voice, “what do you want from me, ….please….tell me?”, Hoping for some sort of answer, receiving none.
“Damn it, I….I don’t know anymore….”

A delicate hand, its long fingers relaxed, came up and wiped at the sweat from her forehead. Walking purposefully back towards the building she continued to watch intently for any sign of movement. The sensation was there again, for the eyes she always felt at the back of her neck. Nothing greeted her vision except the occasional dust devils that seemed to be in perpetual motion about the town. The shutter started deep inside and moved involuntarily through her arms and legs, nerves very much on edge. With a heavy breath and forced steps she continued back to the barbershop, still wondering what would greet her inside, and if she had the courage to face it.

The first change she noticed was that the room actually felt cooler than the outside furnace of the desert at noon, she moved past the inner room into the large room behind it and saw the new cloth hanging on polished brass, unlike the first time she had been here. Reaching out and pushing aside the gauzy fabric that encircled one of tubs she paused with the site. There it sat, filled to the brim of scented water and foamy bubbles. Newly polished cooper glistened in the light from the small windows high on the walls. Next to the tub sat the old massage table, a clean towel upon its marred surface. Everything was clean, even the old floor.

Anxiously she looked about; shy in exposing herself to those that she could not see. The first night she had taken a bath, thought nothing of it…why was it so much more difficult now? Because silly, you thought you were alone! Maybe they respected her privacy…yet her inner senses seemed to feel eyes upon her most of the time now,…it was an eerie feeling, no matter how hard she tried to shake it, it was always there. Her family had been conservative, modesty a virtue to be cherished. Modesty did not seem to appeal to these creatures. Quite the opposite appeared to be true. She knew they watched, felt the desire they exhibited for her through her cursed sense.

So here she was starring at a polished tub filled with clean soapy water, placed there by someone, in an otherwise empty town. She was smart enough to grasp her town was not nearly as empty as she had been led to believe, something was here, it had not caused her harm, and it had proven to be helpful. The not knowing part, not seeing, is what made it so potentially sinister. If she accepted this would she be putting herself in harms way? Shania contemplated the problem, none of the experiences of her heretofore short life where of any help in this dilemma.

Well, it wasn’t like she couldn’t change and get into the tub with the minimum revelation of skin. It was that thought that decided it for her. She jumped onto the table and proceeded to take off her shoes and socks, carefully placing them next to her incase she had to move quickly at some later time. She pulled her panties down from beneath the dress and folded them next to the shoes. Carefully she pulled the sleeves of the sundress from off her shoulders, conscious of the morning’s haste that had led her to go out the door sans bra. Wrapping herself in the towel as the dress fell from her body she avoided reveling herself to anything that might be so hopeful. With a graceful motion she placed her foot in the water, feeling its refreshing coolness in contrast to the bitter heat of the desert. She slid into the water, pulling the towel upwards as she went. With her body beneath the water with its frothy cap she placed the towel behind her over the rim and settled down. The fragrance of flowers greeted her, her mind slowly shutting down, as her body relaxed for the first time of the day. It was so easy to just close her eyes; she felt the collar about her neck for a brief moment before sliding back down the slippery slope of dreams and rest. For some odd reason she decided not to remove it as well. Once again she dreamed.

She felt the hands upon her body, softly working soap across its silky skin in tantalizing circles. One leg brushed over and upon a smooth shoulder and felt a mans wickedly delightful tongue play across her toes while hands lathered slippery soap upon her skin. The hands continued lower while the mouth moved to encompass each toe in its own time. Heat rose inside her as lips and hands paid attention to her body, that he desired her she knew in no uncertain terms. Felt it to her core. All it took was a slight movement of her foot and she confirmed her suspicions in no uncertain terms. Devilish that move, it brought a wicked smile to her lips. Yes it was a man that shared the tub with her.

The move seemed to initiate a similar one in her partner. A simple touch and the moan escaped her lips as his skin moved against the soft petals between her legs. She felt her first leg being placed downward, and willfully offered her second grateful when it was accepted. Strange that in her dream, she was offering, hoping at yet another brush of his hands upon the junction of her legs and their most sensitive of secrets. Who was she really? She saw that the fields where green and the sky overhead was blue…not really so strange perhaps. The hands and mouth continued to work at her leg, knees parted and with the simple gesture access granted, someplace in the dark nether of her mind she knew the meaning, knew that she would not remain the virgin much longer, desired the man that desired her.

There was a shifting, the sloshing of water as her legs found more room at that end of the tub. The strong wondrous hands began to work on her shoulders. Each one of those wickedly delightful hands working the lather about her body, one to the front, one to the back, kept her in the throes of passion. She obliged those hands by leaning forward, granting them access. Soon her own hands found the rhythm and moved with delight across her body. As the heat from inside her rose she stirred, she worked her hands between her legs and across her breasts. She woke then, knew she was awake as the orgasm hit and here hips rolled against her seeking hands. She shook her head violently from side to side sending the damp blond tresses flying like small whips about her. She stared at her own hands for a long time as she sat in the waters, ‘what is it that I’m doing to myself’, she thought. Even with the passing of time she could still feel the simmering heat within her, waiting for another chance to explode forth. Who Am I?

The idea just hit her, “I can fantasize a reality; my dreams can turn me on as easily as life itself…..perhaps easier.” When did this start happening? Is it the town, the loss of all that I once held dear? Too many questions again, she felt on the edge of sanity, one step and she would be consumed by the abyss of her minds own depravity. Her life and taken on a surreal element of reality and fantasy that seemed to twine about one another as vines climbing a tree. Would one stifle and destroy the other?

She got up then, not even mindful of her current state and the eyes that watched her every move. Working the towel through her hair, she smelled the perfume and realized that she had washed herself while she slept…The sun sunk low in the windows to the west, shadows grown long and deep, realizing time had passed with amazing quickness while she had soaked. Saw the wrinkles on her fingers and felt amazed that she had spent that much time in the water, time that had passed in the blink of an eye. Finally dry, she looked over and opened her eyes wide in surprise, “ok girl, that is not what you came here in…” louder now, “where are you…you were here weren’t you,” she felt the hairs on her neck stand; felt the presence like it was laughing, “it isn’t all a dream is it”. She stood beside the tub and wrapped the towel tighter about her. “Damn it, damn you”, she picked up the night shirt and the high heals and headed for the door, back to the place she called home.

The entity was in a state that some might call happy if he could be happy, the girl knew, knew she was on the cusp of pleasure all the time now. Knew he existed but still found herself doubting as she used her own hands to bring pleasure to herself. Tomorrow he would try to draw her out just al little more, disappointed in that she wore the towel as she made her way down the street, yet pleased in the way her walk had changed….the sway of the hips and the bounce of the step said more than her words.

Shania made herself a dinner and worked into the night shirt without dropping the towel. Clinging to her modesty in one last effort to preserve something of her past, she wasn’t in the mood to display herself naked, not yet. It was a past that was fast disappearing. This evident by the band of leather that still circled her neck, forgotten not unlike the panties that still sat next to the discarded towel. That she hummed an upbeat song, a song of love and happiness did much to show that her mind was recovering and her soul was gaining new strength. All things that if Shania had really been watching herself she might have noticed, but given the events over the last few days had been lost in the blur of new found feelings and emotions.

Tossing and turning in the throes of a light sleep her dreams commenced, not nearly as strong as the ones the night before that had sent her scampering to the safety of the room upstairs with its putrid odor. The hands teased her hair and gently stroked her body. Softly and sensuously did they move about her responding body. This time was different, even when she parted her legs. It became a slow descent into hell, always riding the edge, in constant need and heat. Frustration loomed like an insect bite in the middle of your back that can’t be scratched. Finally her own hands worked the buttons upon her shirt and discarded it. Pale skin glistened in the night under the stars and moon. Hair of gold caught the light and shimmered about her head like an angel’s halo.

A hard plastic shell bounced against the seeking fingers, mind recognized its function and brought it down, down her body to the places that would feel the best. It was already on, vibrating gently against her skin, fingers tingling with its energy sucking in a breath of air as it hit home.

Fingers met hers, took the plastic allowing her greater freedom. Fingers land and narrow flowed into the sweet wet channel and parted her labia, flattened it against each side. Always her fingers, they led her upon the path once again as her other hand trailed slow circles upon her breasts. It was the slow kiss upon her lips, the hot dry mouth that met her own wet one with its tongue dancing with hers that completed her climb out of the depths of despair. The kiss broke but it had done its job, she opened her eyes in the darkness of the night, the moon full in the sky outside her window and found her hands upon breast and pussy. Her need drove her to finish what she had started; she came, softly, shuddering there upon the couch gasping for breath with each climax. Pulling her fingers from her sopping channel and sucking on them she tasted her own love juice and found it satisfying. Is what I have become really so bad?

Reality set in as the torrent of passion subsided. For the first time she felt the night’s breeze through the open window. Goosebumps formed on her flesh and she shivered. The chill of the air sent her scurrying to put on the night shirt that sat upon the floor and wrap herself in the blanket. The room seemed empty, as nothing moved; the shadows not nearly so deep. Yes the previous night was just a bad dream after all, always be afraid for your sanity when you start seeing things that go bump in the night. How many times had she cum this day? The sensations were still new and strange, somehow it felt so wrong but so right all at the same time. Turning off the pink orb she feel back into the couch. Finally her body relaxed a bit further, feeling the joy and pleasure she had felt surge through her veins. The little voice inside her told her she had done well….it was all she needed to sleep deeply the rest of the night.

Ghost town
Chapter 1
Day 5

She felt like running a marathon, sleep had come, and as she thought about it couldn’t recall a single dream. Blissful and deep it had been. For the first time in weeks she felt fully rested and ready to go. The sun was already high in the sky, and the hunger of a renewed appetite gnawed at her. Yes, she was alive and feeling better after weeks of self pity and sorrow. Thought about it, how she still missed her family but suspected she would always miss them, “yes, but my life goes on…”, voice full of hope. Her stomach made another sound and she noticed for the first time the scent….a scent of meat, bacon? Others smells greeted her…she got up, stretching in her night shirt and felt her half aroused nipples push against the fabric….”god, why do I still feel horny?”, a blush creped to her cheeks as again she remembered what she had done last night…the nakedness, and what had come after.

A new day, filled with the heavenly scent of a cooked meal wafted about the small room. Marveling at how she had heard nothing, sleep deep and sound, she went about the necessary duties of the day. It was already 10:30 in the morning. Felt like summer vacation, sleeping late on a Sunday morning. Mom would have had breakfast ready as well. Perhaps the fates were trying to address the great cosmic imbalance in her life so far….something unknown to her took care of her needs now.

There in the kitchen sat a small table, before it a chair and upon it a meal…eggs, spam and a biscuit with a glass of water and an orange. She knew it came from her supplies, but once again the creatures had done their work. The food was warm and filled her empty belly. She pondered why they did the things they did and wished that she could meet them. So far they had been strong, silent, and male, well at least one…if there were more. Recalling the strong hands and fingers as they played across her flesh in a heavenly massage of weary muscle from her bath the previous day, she realizes her bath could be ready once again. That it felt in part a dream was obviously due to her lack of sleep in the previous weeks. How she would like to feel them yet again upon her body. “I hope that the bath house is open and ready”, she grins inwardly at the words and sets off to the bath house and barber shop for what she earnestly hopes will be one with those hands upon her, perhaps he will reveal himself so that she may know the man that inhabits her dreams.

Glances out the door into the shimmering desert she scans the horizon as the heat distorts the distant views. A quick glint gains her attention and there in the general direction a small cloud of dust grows. She watches fascinated as yet another glint of sun reflecting off something hits her eyes and the cloud moves along, always dispersing as it travels up into the sky. Then it hits her like the heat of the desert had when she had stepped out of the car for the first time. Somebody was coming; she picked up the outline of a vehicle, perhaps 5 minutes away now, as it bore down on her quite empty town. Fear was a first instinct, to run and hide, and wait the trespassers of her private sanctuary out. Who? Then mind can work in strange paths the fear, then the remembrance of words, the words of a kind man. Could he be doing what he had promised?

Diving back into the house she sheds her nightshirt and throws on the sundress, shoes and socks. Fast and simple that. Pushing on the pump in the kitchen filling the canteen, he had said water, always have water. If it wasn’t the sheriff she would be ready to run…..Then the wait, peering out the window trying to make out the vehicle…Blazer, lights on top….she smiles and bounces out the door to wait on the porch as the old familiar truck turns into town, the canteen of water forgotten in the joy of the moment on the floor of the living room.
The Vehicle came forward and slowed, the billowing dust clouds engulfing it soon after it stopped, taking time to settle. It didn’t matter, she knew the man in the seat, and the old sheriff had come just like he had said he would. A small gesture that meant the world to her after all that had happened. It spoke of caring, it spoke family to her. Relief at his presence settles the tension in her shoulders relaxing her just a little.
“Missy, nice to see you about this fine morning”, Voice gruff as usual, already talking as he climbed from the open door.
“Thanks, This, you coming all the way out here to look in on me…its means a lot you now.” She was smiling at him, the sun behind her.
“Whall I’ll be….” amazed as he watched the young lady, she had almost spoken more to him today than she ever had. “I said I would, even brought yah some things”. She looked different, not nearly the waif he had left here a few days before. Now standing in that sundress that highlighted her legs through the light fabric, he shook it off and glanced away. Maybe being out her was doing some good for her after all.
“Ok, need some help?” She trusted this old man, and he deserved the best of her behavior. Thought about it all, what he had done. A war erupted in her head, she missed something and knew it…
“Gotcha…., you was day dreaming aye, well let me help you out by bringing a few things in for yah”, without another word he pulled one of the sacks from the back of the car.
Shoes moved across the creaking steps as she came down and stood next to him, Then punched him in the shoulder playfully, “you look like you’ve been enjoying this saving the damsel in the lonely castle play a bit too much.” A mans smell assailed her nostrils, pungent in a good sort of way, robust in its essence. It hit her full force; felt the tingling of electricity as her hip contacted his body on accident. The sensation shot straight through her, deep into her loins, starting the heat. Man it said; was then conscious of how her erect nipples tented the dress, female and male essence mixing. She shuddered a little at that, not what she wanted, not what she expected. He was older, a father figure, not some sexual plaything. Fighting with the sensations, she tried once again to pay attention to his voice.
“Yur in rare form…the desert been good to you?” He looked at her now, the healthy glow to the cheeks, the bounce in the step, even the playful laughter that lit up her eyes. Yes something was going well out here. It didn’t take years of training in reading people to understand that. Yet, something was troubling her.
Stealing herself to the passion welling up deep inside, “I’ve enjoyed it more than you would ever know”, she bent down and grabbed a couple of bags herself, anything to take her mind off feelings that weren’t right. Saw the rolls of toilet paper stuffed in one and started to cry, just a tear or two. A pale arm came up to dry them off before anybody noticed….too late.
“What’s wrong……, really now”, low gravelly voice next to her. When her eyes met his she could feel the compassion, desire to help. That cursed gift of hers, that ability to empathize, see into another’s soul. It could hurt you as much as help you. It also showed her what he felt was not the same as what she was fighting through.
“Toilet paper”, she hugged him then, arms about his neck in a plutonic hug of greeting, unwound herself, broke the contact and grabbed the bags, afraid of how the gesture would be read, afraid of what she might try if the contact went any longer.
“If I’d known toilet paper was such a big hit…whall I’d have done it stead of flowers…probably gotten me hitched with 3 or 4 brats and a whole heap of trouble”. He watched the mirth in her eyes, god the things you learn late in life.”
“only works when the woman has none of her own…flowers work better in all other cases.” Rolling a nicely curved and sensuous hip into him as she passed by, arms full of bags.
“Women,” she heard behind her, but she knew he was shaking his head as he said it probably wondering and muttering to himself at the strangeness of that other part of his species. Men did that. On the other had she was wondering why she was still feeling the touch of her hip upon his jeans, and was getting all warm and tingly deep down inside were her legs came together. “stop it”, she said.
“what”, he responded, afraid he had missed something…she was acting a strange…well the whole things about a conversation was strange…saved him from further thought then.
“For me, you could only have done better by bringing me electricity, air-conditioning, and indoor plumbing….a shower would have been great. But if Toilet paper is all you could fit in the car it’s a great start.”
Words, of unknown meaning bounced around in his head as his minions watched and listened in…was the old man a threat. He had seen him before, many times through the years, each time he left after just a short stay….he waited for the same, but bees came for honey, this honey though belonged to him, a sweet little treat he was not going to give up. .
“Yah can’t say I didn’t worn yah thar.”
“Yes you did old man…..yes you did at that.”
He smiled then; so she had paid attention to those earlier one way conversations. “I’ll see what I can do about the list, no promises.” This was far better than before.
“well if your going to try the least I can do is be a proper hostess…..you want something to eat ….you know I don’t have a lot of visitors,” She gave him an award winning smile, just to seal the deal.
Wha’ll missy, I don’t think I could turn down yur cooking, as I haven’t had any yet.” He watched as she turned and bounced up the stairs with a load of bags. She was so different than when he had dropped her off, alive, completely. He had worried the entire time he drove out that he would find her pale body lifeless, the desert working to reclaim all it could from her decaying carcass. That she was a woman there was no doubt, that too had changed, he had to shake the thoughts from his head, he would view her as his daughter. But even an old mans mind could wander, and with her prancing about in the sundress…the bounce to her step that set other things wiggling in ways that could affect even him. Try as you might, you couldn’t help but notice it was just a dress….nothing else was under it but bare skin. That led one to thinking about other things one shouldn’t…
Once inside he saw the small table, listened to her prattle on as she made a meal and put things away in the few cabinets that made up the kitchen. He marveled yet at how she was talking, opening up, a little at a time like a book you couldn’t wait to see the end of. No, the next time he came out she would be alive, and happy….that meant a lot to him. Told him how she had been scared and had gotten water, just like he told her too…..told him about the town. He was proud she had taken his warning to heart. Not much to lunch, sandwiches of canned meat, some chips and a glass of water. He savored the meal even with its simplicity. It was made by someone alive, someone just an hour before he was sure was dead. He looked onto the green of her eyes and saw the sparkle, a hint of mischief and sensuality that rode even hotter in their depths. He looked away, fearing he could be trapped by them.
“I’m sorry, here I’ve been going on, and you’ve been the silent one….how are you, is there anything else I can get you?” Head cocked sideways, looking from under eyelashes….
Swallowing hard, “missy, you are downright a pleasure to hear…I was worried fur you, what alls been going on that has you all in such a happy titer?” Crimson flooded her checks, and eyes went down, cheeks hidden by blond hair falling forward. He watched as the former modesty and shyness asserted itself if even for a moment.
“I’m learning, … learning something’s about myself I didn’t know before…” The blush continued, he could read there was more, but women had never been his specialty, probably why marriage had never been something he had tried. Toilet paper…would have to remember that one.
“Sumtin troubling you?”, He watched the nervousness play out with the hand ringing, could tell right away she was working something through her mind.
“Can’t really talk about it”
“sur yah can, cross my heart, yur secrets my secret” He moved his hand in the gesture across his heart. Gave her a smile and met those pools of green head on.
Shania looked down, “not something I can really talk about”
“Missy, would yah let yur own mother or father now?”
“God no…..I mean….too embarrassing” color rose to her cheeks.
“Wall then, nutting to worry yur perty lil head over; I’m not yur mother or yur father.” He laughed then just a little, to lighten her up. Interrogation techniques did have some merit. Something was going on…He looked about again, noticing things, things that if she were her daughter he wouldn’t have wanted to notice.
“I thought you said to think of you as a father?” She laughed along with him, some of the tension releasing into the air between them.
“Yep, good thing too, I think I’d been embarrassed to talk about sex with yah”
“What?” eyes were wide, then quickly down, color heavy upon cheeks, hands going down into her lap, out of view. “I mean no….your a man, I mean…like that would be gross.”
“Wall if yah don’t ok, be mighty uncomfortable meself, jus yah should put away yur toys fore yuh have somebody over, they might get the wrong ideas.”
“Huh”, she looked back then saw the infernal device on the floor beside the couch and her blanket….”so how is your work?”
“Good try thar missy is that what’s bothering yah.”
“Ah, no….maybe…..yah ever had something happen, I mean you think it’s a dream but its not, like things move on there own….like I’ve heard of men having dreams they thought were so real they well…yah know.”
“Like ghosts…..dreams of sex?”
“Yeah, fairies, angels, something touching you”
“Nope don’t believe in any of it, can be xplained after a while…why…you think you got ghosts?” A apuse then nothing more from her so he continued, “As for the other, it happens when yur young…sometimes.” Trying so hard to keep the voice calm, it wasn’t good that all that innocence and sexual tension was getting to him.
“No…..but if I don’t….I’m sleep walking…and having really vivid dreams.”
“Yah been through a right nasty bit, of late n yah may be jus working it through.”
“Oh, I’m working something through….sometimes have to wonder if it is ok”. The crimson still stained her cheeks as she fidgeted with her hair.
“Wall whatever it is missy, yah look a new person…don’t go back yah hear me”. Yeap, don’t go back to that little waif that is so depressed she kills herself is what he really meant.
Laughter then, light and sweet, “you think?”
“Yah, I know its done yah a wealth of good.” Your alive, in more ways than one…ways that I’m having a hard time understanding.
“I’ve really wondered sometimes, I’ll keep it in mind over the next few days and push myself if you say so.”
“From were I sit, yah done fine so fur”.
She got up then and leaned forward to kiss him on his balding forehead. Couldn’t help but see straight down the valley of her naked chest as the loose collar of the sundress fell open before him. He closed his eyes then, ashamed at the thoughts that cascaded through his head in a moment of weakness. “Thanks again”, the sound reached his ears. When he opened his eyes again she was already headed for the kitchen with the plates from lunch in her hands.
He watched her then, in new appreciation for the girl….realized that she was even moving differently. What another week would do…it was uncanny. She had truly blossomed in the desolation of this vast desert. He got up then, fearing he had overstayed his welcome. “Wall, yah look good, I’ll come back in a few, thay say yur truck ‘ul be ready next week.”
“Oh. Leaving so soon….um, found something our here, could you take it to my lawyer?” Sounding slightly upset, trying hard to keep her voice level given the disappointment that he wouldn’t be staying longer.
“Yah know I’d be down right happy to.”
Rummaging around by the couch she produced the battered leather satchel, bits of yellow papers showed at its corners, “these might be important, seems they were from my great uncle, maybe his father.”
He gathered it up, hands passing against one another for a moment, his old and wrinkled her own smooth alabaster, youthful and fine. “I’ll get it to him, suppose yah look forward to getting yur own truck, eh….I’ll have to find another excuse to see yah. “
Electricity jumped the contact, jolted her mind elsewhere causing her to miss most of what he had said, “umm, yah, I’d like that.” Simply phrase covering the awkwardness she felt as eyes went unfocused and distracted while she mulled over the feelings that tingled through her, ‘not now, not him….’ She thought.
He walked out of the old house then, back to his truck. Footsteps lightly followed his, he heard the boards creak behind him and knew she was there. Needed it to be a simple goodbye, she was too young for him, still the temptation called, didn’t help that he now saw here as a sexual creature, doubly so with the device on the floor and her embarrassment riding upon her cheeks at being found out. It gave her a look of pure innocence that could easily disarm the most faithful man, not a trait he would apply to his own past.
“thanks, ….It does mean a lot to me, I miss not having a dad, and I really missed not having the toilet paper.” The smile was enough to warm the heart of the most stoic old fart. He smiled back and got in his truck, stoic was not what he was feeling right then.
Watching the truck drive off with mounting tension and anticipation at what would happen soon, she smiled inwardly. He, as close to a father as she now had, had approved of what she had been doing; At least in a round about way. That he was happier about her was certain. Everything he said had confirmed what she had done, that maybe it was all ok to just let go….enjoy the body and the pleasures it provided.
The waiting was over, she didn’t even hesitate to go back inside, instead feet moved with grace and speed as small clouds of dust bounced into the air with every footfall. Running down the street she rounded the path into the barbershop laughing as she hit the doorframe. Yes excited to be alive, excited to see what the future might hold. Talking with the sheriff and feeling his presence had already gotten her started up, she knew she needed release, would welcome the dreams today, hoped for so much more.
The smile crosses her face, big and toothy, on seeing the bath water already in the tub, waiting for her. This time however the froth of soap was missing. Anticipation causes her mouth to water; eyes look stridently for any sign of her companion, every one of her emotions and senses on edge. Nothing but another envelop of parched ivory paper upon the table. With mounting anxiousness she opens the seal and pulls out the note. This one simply says;

Close your eyes and wait

Should She? The question rattles around in her head. She had come here hoping, and the bath was ready, yet another twist in the daily grind was being introduced. Everyday was new and different…but what would this hold. She ponders the meanings; were they shy? Was she setting herself up?

Carefully she places the towel upon the table and sitting next to it complies with the notes request. Obey …Obey the word tumbled through her mind …and pleasure shall be yours. This cloak and dagger went against everything in her core, something or someone was here in her town. Waiting to find out who or what was here, she stood, eyes closed. Behind her she hears the rattle of the metal rings upon the brass rod that holds the curtains, feels the presence of something. Not another sound comes to her as she redoubles her effort to keep her eyes closed, fear awakening yet another sensation within her. Desperately she wants to turn around and open her eyes, see for once and for all what is here beside her. She can’t, whether from fear or anticipation she is rooted in place as an ancient tree in firm ground, not a muscle moves to betray her acknowledgement of the presence in the room.

Her belly knots in fear even as her heart beats with the excitement of companionship and her mind pulses in pleasure. It is a strange heady mix of emotions; she breaths life, feels it strongly in the emotions and desire to give life to this desert town. That thought alone encompasses all of the sensations coursing through her nervous system, giving meaning to her life in a way not felt yet, juxtaposed upon her most current past. This town will blossom under her care and all that dwelt here will benefit. She will have to be careful to ensure their privacy, will have to enquire as to their care. Eventually she will know the answers just as she now knew the starting point for the path she will embark upon.

“So stranger, is that you again?” A long pause waiting…

“Still not much of a talker are you?.....

Something soft flutters across her face, then is pulled tighter over her eyes, a startled in drawn breath betrays her. “So you want me to keep my eyes closed, to not see you?” There was no response as the band across her eyes was drawn snug, enough to keep it from slipping away. “Ok, I won’t peek.” What’s next?”

Hands guide her off the table; turn her around so that she stands with her back to the unseen man…well probably man.

“So, you are still playing the part of the strong silent type….I’m really shy as well, Its not like I take a blindfolded bath with a complete stranger every day”, she chuckles at the ridiculousness of the situation she finds herself in. A tabloid romance book writer wouldn’t even dream of this scenario.

“This is really weird….maybe…”

Almost before the words have started she feels the tug upon her dress, feels it rising about her legs. She moves, just a little, hands came down to hold onto the fabric, not sure that being naked in front of someone that she can’t see is something she wants. The dress stops its movement, but a hand still moves behind her. Up her back it goes then no more, until she feels the trace of a finger upon her check, running itself across her mouth and then down her neck the top of the leather band encircling its slender form. She can almost hear the words unspoken by the act; ‘You wear the band; what do you fear?’ It was crazy, the whole idea was crazy, seems she is dealing more with pixies than elves….but it was a bath that this was supposed to be about, and the bath was ready, she’d seen that. She wonders at the finger, male or female, not yet enough to tell. Did it matter anyway…?

“so, you going to tell me man or woman, who do I deal with…”, not voiced but still there in her mind, ‘who would I be more comfortable with…’

With a shuddering out breath she forces her arms and shoulders to relax, slowly raising her arms over her head in a gesture of submission to the act of removing her dress, letting the person behind her know with the simple gesture that she would comply…she shivers in spite of the heat in the room. Involuntary that shudder, perhaps it signifies another part of the armor of her modesty being removed. She had never bathed with anyone before; this would be a frightening first. Unless the dreams were more real than not…but this time she was awake, knew she was awake.

“Did I dream you in the bath, or were you really there last time?”

Still no answer as the dress comes up over her head, gone. Just her shoes and panties remain....she wonders then if she can really go through with it, vowing to herself that she will. Skin crawls of its own accord as her breath catches in her throat. Breasts jiggle slightly in the hot air a slight draft moving over skin that just moments before was shielded from view. A Flush of crimson flashes across their surface as her mind races down paths and potential outcomes, all leave her wondering if she is ready to sacrifice the one sacred thing that she can cling to from her old life.

There has been no move yet that seems designed to force her into anything, allowing her room to breath, to think. The shoes and socks are next, she only moves when she feels the tap upon her flesh. Raising one leg then the other as something works laces and casually discards the few remaining pieces of clothing that hides any part of her. Tension finds its way into her shoulders as the last sock slides free. There is but one article of clothing that remains, yet she knows there is no haste, just deliberate slowness, allowing her to adjust to each step, find her inner center as she pushes herself along a path she has never traveled before. Slowly she submits, allowing the other to do what must be done to prepare her, for what she still can only fantasize. Strangely, she hopes she will not disappoint. Will it be just a bath?….The sexual tension feels strong enough to encircle her in its own embrace.

A deep breath inwards then, forcing arms to relax along her sides knowing that the hardest part will be next….cool fingers hook the sides of her high cut panties ….slowly, ever so deliberately pull them outwards and then downwards. As those hands reach the widest point of her hips she trembles, muscles twitch along her legs, ready, ready to run and yet she manages to force herself to remain stationary. Almost, and then realizing that she has stopped breathing, pulls the air in deeply into her lungs and gulps in a deep breath of air, feels fingers tightly clenched, the two fists she has created; ready to fight if things feel the least astray. Hips shift bringing one leg up slightly, bending it at the knee, she feels the hands glide the cloth over her foot, fingers trail along the skin. Chest thrust out, she smiles, tries to preen, willing herself to look sexy, not really knowing if she is or will be thought so. Standing naked in the middle of the room now in some things presence, she wills herself to be sexy, seductive.

“I’ll assume that we have been together before…you were kind….and male” crimson rose upon her cheeks then as she remembers. Embarrassment for a dream that was no longer so much a dream, he had desired her, easily discernable by the hard flesh she had contacted between his legs. His hand came to hold both of hers, she hadn’t realized till than she had moved them to her front, a last barrier between him and her. He held them then, bringing both up over her head, another hand came down to her hip and started her into the slow spin. Heat spilled again to her cheeks, ran across her chest. Faltering for a split second she almost stumbled, only her dancers training and grace coming in to rescue her as she resumed the spin, slow and steady, trying to think of herself as someone to be admired. The contrary thoughts spun through her head as faster than she spun, she wasn’t pretty, always was a little to short, and her chest seemed too large. Still it was heady to think that someone wanted to admire her, hopefully he would not reject her outright….

“Do you think I’m pretty?” She begged for an answer then, wanted approval for something, anything from this silent creature she could not see. The body in front of her shifted, felt it close the gap between them, noticed that a hard shaft met her lower abdomen and slid upwards as the bodies closed. Not the answer she had expected. Male it was.

“You do ….you really want me….I’ve …I’ve never”

The tap upon her leg stopped the flow of words, low and guiding as a hand held hers. Lifting her leg and following the lead of the hand upon it she found herself stepping up and outward. Balance remained as she was held steady by the grip on her own hands. As the foot was guided over the copper edge of the ancient tub, down into cool water, taking the edge of the heat off the day…she finally began to relax. What was to happen was going to happen. Anticipation flooded her senses as she understood just how much she wanted it to happen, wanted to feel him inside her; her first.

With the next leg she needed no guidance and casually moved into the water. Summoning all the past training in dance, she slowly lowered her entire body into the water that smelled of wild flowers and honey. There was hope he liked the move, hope he approved of her attempt to be enticing. The hand left, and she breathed deeply in the heady aroma of flowers and spice, relaxing fully for the first time since arriving. The tub was long enough for her to stretch out her legs and lean back with her body into the water. The little tub she had spent her time in before she found these was nothing in comparison to the luxury that this one offered. Starting to feel glad she had come here, relaxing in the decadence of cool sweet smelling water on a hot day, her mind focused on the sensations as they came. Fingers working their touch upon each temple as the massage began working the finally tendrils of tension from her face…it felt wonderful, she wondered why she had been so tense as the fear melted away under the onslaught of those magical fingers.

Shania smiled, happy as the servant worked its magic…servant? Why that word, it troubled her for some unknown reason. “oh god yes, if you keep this up I might just slip off to sleep and you’ll have to save me from drowning.” She chuckled at the thought. Servant….hers? The thought gone as hands gently pushed her head back and down, keeping her face high as water was brought to her hair. In a suddenly carefree and rash move she pulled her own head down under the water then back up. Hands did not interfere with the maneuver; no malice threatened to drowned her. Safety, yes, she was feeling safe for the first time. Suddenly realizing that if she was wanted dead by this male then there were a thousand ways it could have already happened. Well, count your blessing girl, he wanted a live body to rub with. She grinned, wide and full, the first for a long time coming. Had to wonder if he was perplexed by all these silly grins and chuckles…well if he was going to be silent she didn’t need to tell him what she was thinking.

Hands found there way to her own and with a gentle tug moved her own to her eyes. The silky fabric met her outstretched fingertips, leaving her to wonder what was meant by this action. Fingers further guided her until her own hand held the cloth in place over her eyes. Laughing a little now she spoke, “so I don’t get to peek is that it…Ok, I’ll play the game”. A poke to her ribs, sensitive as they were she jumped, responding as expected…”that’s not fair, you don’t get to poke me if you want me to keep my eyes closed”, stifling the giggle even while she spoke. Felt like a young school girl now. Alive, happy, how long had it been?

The hand came back over her own as if to reassure her and then she felt the tension released from the band about her head, felt the two ends of the cloth get draped about her arms as they held the cloth to her eyes. “just one peek….please”, the males hand pressed down firmly over her eyes. Well English was not the problem, they could communicate, so there was hope that soon the other might just talk to her in return. Intrigue worked at her as she wondered what was next and waited impatiently for her turn to be allowed to see. Visualizing this stranger before her she imagined his as tall and bronze in complexion, muscle standing out under well tanned skin. Yes, alive and well, getting hornier with each thought, each gesture.

The first indication of what was to transpire was the smell of strawberries from the shampoo wafting through the air about her face. Soon those hands returned to her head and hair, fingers kneading her scalp with powerful and firm strokes. For a moment she had to wonder if she had reached heaven already. Once, before her senior prom, she’d had her hair done in the saloon …felt the strong hands work the soap into her scalp and hair. It was easy to loose yourself in those hands for awhile, until the cool water crashed over your head and splashed about the tub…first rinse, she couldn’t wait to get running water in here….the next rinse was more mellow, working the water through her hair removing the soap. Stretching, she sat up in the tub, her bare breasts standing above the water, the line of her back clear. In a silly sort of way she still hoped that whoever was doing the washing found her exciting to look at, that she needed to make herself exciting to look at. That too was a strange sensation. Seduction it came to her, moving then, trying to make herself more enticing, and for a brief moment wondered why suddenly she would think like this….felt the hand move to her breast and gently squeeze it…an offer of notice. Blushing, the red standing out high on her checks, she knew instantly what it meant. For a moment she felt the embarrassment and then…..seductive…she was enticing….sultry. In a building flash of heat that radiated outward from her loins she finally understood she liked being desired, wanted it, still nothing else happened as he worked at her hair. Yet, she had been noticed in a way she found made her feel giddy and alive inside.

Surprise as the comb moved through her hair. So unexpected she almost dropped her hand from her face. It felt so sensuous, like the person that sat and gave her the bath truly was working to make her look her best. Working at the tangles, he kept the strokes simple before finally working her medium long blonde hair from top to bottom. After a bit the combing stopped, even so she felt a continuous slight tug upon her hair, finally realizing that it was being braded into a single long braid. The tension of the blindfold returned. Hair coiled out of the way atop her head. She let her hand drop, tired from the simple exertion of keeping it up for the time it had taken to finish just her hair.

Feeling horny, realizing that she was really turned on by all the attention, wanting to go to that next step, something had to give. Reaching out with her hands she attempted to discover something, anything about the person that shared this most intimate of baths with her. As she reached out both hands were suddenly caught in stronger ones then brought together. Stopping all motion, she submitted not having to wait long before a ribbon of some sort wound its way around her wrists, binding her hands together. Symbolic more than real, it told her she was to obey, and allow the other to do what he willed. Moving to stand, to end the charade, she shifted in the water….nothing happened. No move to stop her, and if he would not stop her,…then why stop something that was giving her such pleasure? Pausing in the water, she shifted once again back to her starting position.

With hands now bound and eyes still blindfolded she was coaxed up, standing in the cool water while the hot desert air evaporated it from her body so quickly she was soon shivering in the heat. Nipples engorged themselves from the cold and the desire, twin peaks prominent on rounded orbs. Breathing in and arching her chest forward, displaying herself for her partner. The greeting acknowledged by a trailing finger across her chest, as if to emphasize the delights it was providing. Wiggling against that touch, trying to make it more than it was….to rub herself against the flesh of another. The finger ended up next to one turgid enlarged nipple, gently between finger and thumb he squeezed down, watching the expression of her face while pleasure and then slight pain coalesced together.

“Ohhhh, it feels so good, …even as it hurts a little….I feel like a queen, what’s next?”

A shifting of bodies, as his presence moves to her back. With soap and cloth scrubbing her skin she moves against his hands as they glide over its smooth unblemished surface; Always working their way across her body, first the shoulders and upper back. Then moving slightly backwards towards the presence, she is rewarded with a poke of something rigid and fleshy against her upper buttocks, he was still male and excited it told her. Yes, male and ready, turned on by her. Wiggling her but and slowly bending her back, she invited him to closer contact. Again she felt the warmth upon her cheeks, wished her hands were unbound so that she could reach backward and grasp the member, test it. Never before had she touched a man, then neither had she been touched like this.

Those hands continued to groom her body, as if preparing it for things to come. Down they worked across her buttocks, up and down her long legs, shifting open her legs to give more clearance for the attentions of those hands, yet they did not touch her…not in the way she was finding herself desiring. Avoiding her sex it would seem, as hands working the inner thigh not quite going all the way up spread the soap upon her. It was becoming distracting, more and more she was finding herself desiring a touch that would change her forever.

The hands quit their movement, then found her shoulders, a twisting motion which she followed turning slowly, trying to be sexy about it, still wondering if she was really having the effect she wanted to have. So far he hadn’t taken her, hadn’t worked his way inside like she wanted. It left you wondering all the time, left you thinking that maybe you really weren’t all that sexy in your moves.

A hand took hers and pulling gently lifted them up and over a tall head, leaving them wrapped behind the strong neck upon muscled shoulders. He was taller than her by at least 6 inches, moving closer she felt his arousal touch her in the gut, and then pushing her chest forward against his skin as her nipples tingled to the touch. Finally she found herself leaning her head back with parting lips….enticing, waiting for his lips to meet hers. Not yet was the answer…as hands began moving elsewhere. It was enough to make you think the creature wasn’t attracted to human females, except her gut told her other things, and her mind, the small voice inside her said he was about the explode for holding himself back.

Traveling their way across her chest, sliding over the curves of her body the hands worked the soap upon her skin. Leaning into them she found herself pushing forward as they glided against her breasts, kneading the surface, running across swollen nipples, teasing her. Again she felt the soft rigid member against her midsection. Slowly the hands worked there way down, down her taught abdomen, and across her slender waist. The fingers could almost encircle her waist in their girth. She smiled, felt sexy. Without her eyes to see, each sensation of soap, skin and cloth against her felt more real, brought her closer to climax. She lived in a world of touch and sensation. Her arms dropped downward, she knew he knelt before her, his head close to the level of her mound….wanted to feel his breath upon her most private of places. She was wound up tight now, seeking release. Still the hands worked there way up from her ankles to her toes. She kept her hands behind his neck just as they had been placed and used them to knead at muscled shoulders, tried to pull him closer. Fingers hit pay dirt, played across her channel, up the inner folds of her lips. Moaning now, feeling the pressure on her pleasure center she found herself pushing her knees outward to allow closer access, rolling her hips against his hands, trying to get them inside her. Instead they left. Frustration grew then, as the fire grew warmer threatening to go out of control.

“please, enough is enough already, I know you want me….”

There were sounds, and then the fingers returned, playing across her labia, gently stroking the lips and peeling them back. A thumb played against the opening to her clit, stroking the hood till it too grew, revealing itself. A single finger played against her hole, probing at its entrance until it slipped into her wet and lubricated channel. Not far, for its way was blocked, purity and virginity would not allow it further access, but for now it didn’t need to go any further. For such an innocent young thing the fire that raged within her was music to its ears. Something soft and wet brushed against her mound and then between her widely held legs. A soft brush of some sort she guessed pushing against her, spreading something upon her skin. With the tickling sensations she bit down on her lip to suppress the laugh. Sensitivity had increased.

Soon it was replaced by a cold hard edge. Paralyzing fear hit her as she felt the blade against her skin begin to move….The first stroke rubbing against her. It had been several days since she had last shaved; the male was shaving her, holding his finger inside her, his thumb moving against her clit. Suddenly it was all too much, the cold blade, the fingers, the fear, the pleasure, she was restrained, could only feel each sensation. “AHHHHFGGSH, oh my god, AHHHHHHHHSSSHHH”, she came, body cavorting even as she tried to hold still with the steely blade against her curved mound. She couldn’t help it, hips gyrating against the thumb and fingers, increasing the stimulation as she came, standing upon strong legs, inner muscles convulsing hard around the finger. At last with a shuddering deep breath the convulsions ended.

The blade returned then to continue its job, working its way around her sensitive lips, removing the hair, leaving behind a smooth unblemished surface. The tang of copper passing across her tongue alerted her to her bitten lip. Bitten, as she had suppressed the first orgasmic moan as the sensation of the blade moving over her now very sensitive skin took her over the edge. Finally in mixed blessing she felt its cool surface moving down her legs, each in turn….it long steal edge never once cutting into her as she had momentarily feared.

Feeling the shift in her arms first, she knew the male was getting back up on his feet. Waiting now, feeling his bulging manliness against her abdomen, the heat still playing at the edges of her body, she sought something for him. For all he had done he deserved something for his efforts, her friend Cindy had talked about it….just seemed gross at the time. She couldn’t believe Cindy could even think to do something like that; it was just not something in her repertoire of good behavior…could she?

Bringing her hands up over his head and trailing them down his chest as she went to her knees in the now frothy water of the tub, she made her move still unsure of what she would eventually do. His hand caught hers, pinning them to his chest above her head, one option gone. It didn’t matter her face had bumped into what she sought. Her tongue sought the rigid flesh and played over its surface. She felt his other hand upon her head, not stopping her, just resting there. ‘Green light go,’ she thought to herself, ‘well there is a first time for everything.’

The entity detached part of himself into the shadow, he had to experience the sensations if only second hand. He had to experience the young girl as she submitted herself for another’s pleasure. Today was becoming a very good day, a day to be remembered.

Inexperienced lips teased the throbbing prick, as her hair braid became entangled in his hands. With simple motions upon her head to guide her actions she soon found the shaft moving in and out of her mouth. Lips and tongue tried to play with each thrust, teeth hit flesh and still the thrusting continued. Bobbing her head back and forth upon his member she worked faster, letting the shaft pierce her mouth, sucking in as she drew back. Bouncing against his legs her breasts swelled with the touch. As she progressed his thrusting grew deeper and faster. Feeling the shaft enlarge, she redoubled her efforts, knowing inside this was good. The hand enwrapped in her hair pulled her head hard against him, forcing his stiff engorged member deep into her mouth and down the back of her throat. Gagging as her mouth was forced all the way along the shaft, she pulls back slightly in spite of the hold on her hair and twisting, feels the prick jump in her mouth as it spews its hot seed. Spitting and coughing as the shaft pumps itself into her mouth, she gasps for breath, forcing cum to dribble down her chin and onto her swollen breasts. She could feel the cum inside her mouth, found its taste nonexistent; still she tried not to swallow any. The inner voice warned her of slight disappointment in this act, but it was all she could do, a first, even more so the inner voice sang of light, of joy, of desire and pleasure. The hand in her hair relaxed its grip while the other held her own hands tightly. Shania pushed her head back, “sorry, first time, never done that before, had no idea there would be soooo much. “ Still blindfolded she couldn’t see the smile on the man, couldn’t know that he had not cared about her inexperience, that he felt no pain from her teeth, that he was a man in form only…a shadow, that had grown stronger in the experience. His drought was ended. He privately thanked the master for his chance to serve her today, happy to have been a barber in his former life, the owner of this establishment.

The man pulled her hands up, pulled her to her feet to stand before him. Standing there she could feel his eyes upon her appraising her, finding value in her that she had never found in herself before. The emotions pulsed about her, the contact with him allowing her to read some of them, though not in the strength if her eyes had been uncovered and she could see his face, look into his red eyes. Smiling now, she shifted herself, wanting to continue to bask in his approval. Feeling like she was a part of something, almost like family, it was the closest she had felt for a month.

His tender stroke moved the cloth upon the skin about her chin, cleaning her of his cum. The cloth worked its way over her breasts, kind and tender in its usage, cleaning her off, taking care of her. Moving and shifting her weight she leaned into the body before her, and hoped that soon she would be allowed to see him with her eyes, this kind tender man that made her feel so good. He had shown her pleasure she had never before experienced or believed possible, she was happy to have shown him the same.

As she leaned against the cool muscled body she felt the tap upon her leg, let him guide her over the rim of the tub and onto the floor. The bath was over, she almost regretted it. Stepping upon a towel draped across the floor, feeling it under her toes, it signified an end to her. Releasing her bound hands as she turned and stepped with the other leg, she was free, but still she waited, hoping it was not over yet. Standing outside the tub, naked but for the leather strap about her neck, arms bound at the wrists, a blindfold across her eyes, and a smile on her face she waited. Her body tingled with sensations, cooled as the hot air evaporated the water. Again she shivered, found a towel wrapped about her, hands running across its surface as the man dried her. Standing relaxed against his firm body, using it as her body warmed again.

Strong arms lifted her off her feet; she tensed amazed at their strength, and then felt the edge of the table against the back of her legs, let them fold as she seated herself on the table. Realizing her legs were alongside the strange man as his torso came between them. Something rigid was still there, marveling that he would be able to take her so soon after she had gotten him off, she spread her knees just a little more, a hint that she too was still ready. Instead she felt the taps, felt the hands guide her down onto her front upon the table, bound arms above her head. The towel was removed from about her, leaving her lying naked upon her front, her buttocks fully exposed to any touch any action. She moved her legs apart, waiting to see what would come next, hoping.

Something wet splashed down and across her back. Strong hands gripped her neck and stroked it, the oil lubricating them, pulling and pushing at the tension till it disappeared and they worked there way across shoulders and slowly down her back. Tension fading, she was getting a massage. “Oh, that feels soooo goooood.” She couldn’t believe her luck, hoped that it would continue until every inch of her body had been gone over. Once more she was slipping over the edge into a dream….everything was ok.

The dream continued as hands tackled her body. Dozing, she was awoken with a surprise slap to her ass, felt the sharp sting, “ouch, what was that for?” Then felt the hands upon her side and the direction they indicated, rolling over onto her back she realized her dream was coming true, every inch of her body….Bound hands moved down covering her mound as a reflex to her nakedness before a man. A strong hand gathered hers up in its grip and shifting them back over her head then bent back and off the edge of the table. Nothing happened for a moment; she heard the rustling of motion and waited, leaving her hands in place over her head as they hung bound together in the air past the end of the table.

The male was doing something with her hands, pulling; she met the resistance from the ribbons around them. He had tied her down…”ahh….you don’t really need to do that….”. A twinge of fear….Feeling the hands upon her right ankle now, something being wound around it and pulled tight. Once again pulling her leg up she met resistance, had about an inch of give before the foot stopped moving held in place from the ankle. The left ankle was next; squirming as crimson color rose in her cheeks and across her body, trying to keep it free. “Please let me loose, …I’ll be good….I mean its not like I’m going to run away is it?” Vulnerable now, waiting to see what would happen next, the fear heightening her senses as they went on edge.

Both legs were now tied securely and spread to each far corner of the table. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was still unsettling with the male presence still so close. The feelings grew, body responding, nipples growing hard, she felt herself getting wet again. This was not what she had in mind for her first go at sex, not all trussed up. Was this what he wanted from her? A part of her mind was really getting turned on by it, which was scary as hell all on its own. Who was she really? Finally, trying to be brave, “you don’t really have to do this….I’ll be good”. No response; had been none since the whole thing had started.

Hands spread warm oil upon her calves, worked at them no different than when she had laid on her front able to move. Just like he was a perfect gentleman, trustable, moving deliberately across her nakedness in a manner like she didn’t really exist as a sexy young woman entirely vulnerable before him, one that moments before had been sending all the signals that she was available for wild lust filled fucking. Yet Shania felt uncomfortable, some how….embarrassed, was that the word she sought? On her front she was hidden from view, her own face and the emotions that played across it obstructed. Now she laid upon her back, trussed up, every part of her that normally remained hidden up for view. It was a strange thought for someone that had just been given a bath by this same male….or was it? She had no way of knowing. Was she embarrassed because she was revealing just how turned on she was by being tied up and on display?

It was a strange question, but then so was the situation, she had to know, “Do you think I’m sexy?” The motions of the hands only stopped for a moment; long enough for a single finger to trace the curves of her legs, up the long inner thigh, close…close as it moved lazily over her recently shaved mound and up her quivering stomach. Still the finger moved higher, tracing the curves of her firm breasts and then across the outside edge of her rose colored nipple. The path tracing itself along her form like an eye would follow. It lingered then upon her mouth, she brought forth her tongue, felt it in a fleeting instance before the entire hand moved off to rest upon her cheek, as a lover might. “Please let me see….let me see your eyes”. Nothing, only the trace of the finger upon the cloth over her eyes before the massage actions resumed once again.

Still the hands worked magic on her lower legs, seemed intent on the task at hand. Relaxing once again she sunk lower against the table, a little at a time even as the hands found their way up her thighs. “ohhh, thank you….I don’t suppose you’d ever teach me this?” Smiling to the man over her, thinking about how she could do this for him. It wasn’t exactly sensual but still she felt herself responding to the touch. Felt her tender nipples hard and waiting their turn. Hands continuing to work into her slightly spread inner thighs; if she had wanted to keep them out she couldn’t have with the bindings that kept her in place. That she didn’t want them too in spite the situation was a bit unsettling.

More scented oils fell upon her skin, dribbling across and down her mound to slowly pass between her legs adding itself to the moisture that was already there. Fingers rolling over skin picking up the excess oil. A stroke in the close confines, body shuddering involuntarily as her clit is lightly brushed, mind registering how it is almost enough to send her over the edge. ‘Damn, I’m horny again’ she thinks, bringing home just how hot she is. The hands move away as if he knows what they were doing to her and he is deliberately keeping her from the orgasm she hovers around. The restraints on her movement keep her from being able to shift herself into those hands….try as she might. Maddening that, awareness that it could be the only reason she is trussed up. “ohhhh, you are vile”, the smirk upon her lips giving new meaning to the words, the shifting of her body reinforcing it.

As soon as his hands leave one area of her body it goes from relaxed to taut again. “Please, this isn’t working anymore, god, please just a couple of touches, let me cum….I….I can’t relax like this….Take me, just untie me fist …ok” He moves, shifting to behind her head with his hands now working her arms, away from anything that might set her off. Working slowly upwards he massages the muscles, onto shoulders, avoiding her breasts as hands continue moving about. She can’t move, “Is this why I’m tied up, so you can torture me….with pleasure…but keep me from release”

He noted her plea, was instantly pleased that in her helpless state she would beg to be fucked, beg to be brought to release. It bode well for his training plan…so far it was working, slow and deliberate. She had only sought one minor diversion so far in going into the sanctuary of the church, it had played out alright. He gazed at her through the minion’s eyes, found himself switching from one minion to another as he watched. Would she be pleased if she knew that a host was gathered and watching her display of passion…

Shania felt herself getting mad, caught herself on the slippery slope. ‘He’s only giving you a massage and has been a perfect gentlemen about it’, she told herself, willing herself to relax and calm down. ‘first your worried about being tied up and having him rape you, then you get all horny and want to rape him….. girl, control yourself, you can’t have it both ways….can’t stay a virgin forever and walk around naked trying to show off’. Can’t give blow jobs on a lark….well maybe you could’, she giggled, out loud and uninhibited, breasts jiggled in delight. Working her body, his hands continued there way down from her shoulders, slowly along the tops of her breasts. So close, she pushed her chest up and out, arched her back hoping to get those hands in and among her tits. Obliging her at long last, shifting to the side of the table and bringing his hand around the underside of her breast, cupping it, driving it upwards and then forefinger and thumb closing in on the turgid nipple squeezing it tightly and pulling upwards. At the same time she felt her clit rubbed and squeezed. Pleasure cascaded their complex echoes across her mind and she fell. Fell into an orgasm of uncontrollable fury. ” UUUHHHH UUUHHHH UUUHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH”, the scream rang out from within the small building; causing the nesting birds to fly from its roof seeking sanctuary in some other place of town. Body rocking and spasming on the table, withering in joy and happiness as one orgasm after another plays within her pussy, clenching down and sending her own juices flowing across her anal bud. Laying there upon the table for a long time, withering in spent exhaustion, too relaxed to move, the massage and the final orgasm leaving her body limp from head to toe.

The entity noted that already the barber was stronger having tasted her essence. He stood taller, his form and inner strength gaining in vigor. Life given to those whose lives had long since passed, given anew from the body of the lithe diminutive girl that lay stretched upon the table in utter contentment. Yes, she had strength, strength more than enough to make is flock well again, to show them that he alone could tend to their needs.

“Ahhhh, are you going to untie me?” She waited on the answer, then felt foolish as she moved her arms in front of her, moved her legs up….Time had passed as she laid upon the table spent from her sexual release, how much time had gone by she had no idea. “Is it ok to take off the blindfold…..”, adding now, “no answer must mean its ok?” Again she waited.

Moving her hands up and blinking at what little light was in the room, eyes still accustomed to the darkness of the blindfold. Looking down at the bindings upon her arms and she saw the knot was a simple bow. Grasping the end in her teeth and pulling it easily came free; unwinding the ribbon of cloth from her about wrists she frees herself. Then reaching down and does the same for her legs….

Looking around finally, and getting up she notices her red high heels sitting on the floor side by side, as if neatly placed for her. The smirk grows on her face, followed by a stifled giggle. “My we are a bunch of lecherous little creatures aren’t we?” Nothing else remained in the room of the clothing she had come here in. “Do you really think I want to spend all my time prancing naked through the streets?” No answer, and none was really expected.

Had to think on this one: her first thought was to hell with them, and wrap up in the towel that was under her….her second to put on the shoes and stroll down the street…..was it a test? She clung to her modesty like a familiar and favorite stuffed animal, but was it time to grow up and abandon it in a town that there were no rules but the ones she made or allowed? Was this a task, to be obeyed, that she had to show the discipline to not revert back to what she had been before she arrived her. It was tough, all these questions surging through her head, begging for an answer….”damn”. What the hell finally overcame to hell in her reckoning as she bent over and pulled the slender straps over her toes and around her ankles fastening them in place. It was late anyway and the sun was just a glimmer from beneath the horizon. It wasn’t like anybody was going to get a major show out of this anyway….but if it was a show they wanted she would give it to them…..it just felt right in a kind of funny kinky way. If there was an audience waiting in the street she could always run back in for the towel….Always have an alternate plan.

Stepping out on the unfamiliar heals, she almost fell over. It would take practice to walk in them. Thoughts wound there way through her head. Tonight she would dream and they would return…it sent shivers of anticipation through her. Sensing that her virginity might well be in peril, for if the dreams became real she would gladly give it up for them to continue. Virginity was something that she was no longer seeing as an asset, but rather in impediment to her future.

Yes he thought, emotions on edge with delight and anticipation, she had willingly come, had willingly allowed all, she willingly wore his band, had willingly taken his servant, and now strode the way back to the house in her natural glory. His servants rejoiced at his wisdom, stepped into line to do his bidding without a single challenge…he felt his own power growing….she was the key….had to be.

‘Yes, the strange men had been in the house again, a meal awaited her on the couch, its aroma wrapping its tendrils about the room ensnaring her as she walked in. Devouring the offering ravenously she ate in silence. Went into the kitchen and felt the heat from the cooling cast iron stove. Dishes were put away, everything was tidy. “Thank you”, she called out to no one in particular, “the meal was great, and for cleaning up.” It couldn’t hurt to be thankful her parents had taught her. Someone, something, or somebody was doing a marvelous job of looking out for her. ‘Nothing is free’ came to mind, followed by, ‘what will be the cost?’ Intriguing question, had to wonder if she was already paying the price, it did seem the creatures used her dreams, enjoyed her body being displayed….perhaps it was time to up the ante and see what new things would develop. So far the payment was not out of her willingness to pay, as long as nothing too radical where to follow….

It was as if all her hormones had gone crazy for the first time in her life and she was responding to things that in her wildest dreams she wouldn’t have just weeks before. But it was impossible for her to blame being here for that. It had started in that store in the big city when she had purchased the items, some still safe in her suitcase. That was just 3 weeks after prom night when she had turned her date down on his advances, had to punch him to show she was serious. Today she had placed a man’s cock willingly in her mouth and sucked it till he cummed down her chest, had enjoyed the fact she had gotten him off. This time the guy hadn’t even tried to get her to do it; she had because she wanted to. Strange times, she thought, a very strange dream if this is what it all was….

She made her bed, but this time did not add a thing to her current ensemble, simple to the core, and easy to get into and out of. Folding the blanket up and over the back of the couch for when it got cold later in the early morning before dawn, she prepared her nest. Getting out a T shirt and pair of sweat bottoms, she carefully placed them on the floor for later. The day caught up with her as the orange hues of the sky turned her small room to fire and played upon her pale skin turning it a crimson hue.

Exciting, exhilarating, words came to her mind as she laid down, finding her body on fire yet. Mentally noting it was another first for her; in bed naked but for the shoes and leather band, like out of some steamy porno she had always heard discussed in quite subdued conversation amongst some of her classmates. The she was trying her best, and wondering if it would really make a difference in how she spent the next few hours of darkness made her even hornier. Watching the sky outside her window go from a brilliant orange glow to darkness, the heavens with a million bright points of light, dancing merrily above her, thinking about the days events and trying to put them into perspective, her mind working overtime on it all. A lot was happening to her, most in the last several days, in some ways she was behaving very oddly, allowing all manner of thoughts and temptations play at her mind. Understanding this was a tentative start to the healing of deeper wounds upon her heart. Yet the inner voice stayed quite, and her sense of people had not set off warning bells. That she was wanted was clear, that she was horny and turned on by it was also clear. Seeming to go against everything she was raised to believe, she preceded, only the end in retroflection would allow her to know if it had been the right choice. Wisdom came with a price.
Still believing herself to be alone, but knowing in her heart she is not; she looks around carefully one last time. Nothing meets those staring eyes in the gathering darkness, the windows empty of all but the sky of stars and the surrounding inky blackness of the desert. Stroking the swath of cloth absently as if in inner turmoil of what to do, finally the decision reached she weaves it under her hair and over her eyes. Pulling it tight about her face she relegates herself to total darkness. This is how the game has been played, always her helpers hide, so she decides she will allow them to remain so, gathering her willpower to herself to go on and weaving it in the hope they will make the move she anticipates.
Leaning back against the old thread bare couch, she closes her eyes beneath the cloth and sighs blissfully as a mild breeze plays over her perfect body, she feels a thousand little mouths play across her skin and wonders how the very air can do this to her. Red eyes gleam from the darkened corners of the room, jostle once again for the best viewing positions and admire the well-developed curves of her lithe form. They watch the large breasts as each breath moves them in a slow undulating motion of seduction. There size seemingly only larger when contrasted with the slender waist and hips below. Windows glow with red eyes, the room is filled with them….silent witness to the acts of this young girl and her body.
With eyes closed and mind slowly unwinding she remains totally unaware of the physical presence of those around her. Yet, inside she can feel the sense of desire floating at the edges of her mind, almost taste it in the saliva that spreads across her tongue and lips. Indulging those feeling she begins to run her hands over soft, sleek unblemished skin. Starting at the neck, she explores her own body as though for the first time, blindly tracing the hollow of her throat and downwards onto her upper chest, breaths become more jagged and she shutters sending nipples jiggling upon the twin pendulant orbs. Her hands wander onto the upper surfaces of her large breasts, fingers splayed and softly stroking the velvety skin beneath. Soft flesh indents around the figures as she brings increasing pressure to bear. Shadows move quietly about all of them wishing it was their own hands playing over those delicious mounds, but the entity commands them to watch and be silent, to not move closer and intrude upon her, even so they will not be content with watching the girl touch herself. Promises that tonight they shall partake of her sweet flesh keeps them from outright rebellion. It has been too long.
Hands round the firm orbs, teasing them and pushing them under there increasing firm movements. Her hands slip through gathering perspiration onto the softly curved under swells of her breasts. Shania cups them, taking their weight fully in her palms and across her splayed fingers, while thumbs reach upwards to tease growing nipples and you hear her breathing become heavier. As she applies more pressure to her hardening tits, you can visibly see her full and round nipples darken in color as they engorge fully with blood. A shadowy hand reaches forward and is stopped by shear force of will. Shania’s mouth opens now, breath coming in gasps, she begins to fondle her tits in earnest. Hands grasp and squeeze swelling flesh, fingers pluck at hard, erect teats as her chest heaves with excitement. Breasts jiggle, and stomach goes taught as hips arch. Only her shoulder blades and ass remain in contact with the couch as she arches her back and forces her tits forward.
Leaving one hand to manipulate each engorged nipple in turn, she pushes downward with the other over the soft dome of her belly and onto her prominent newly shaved mound. Shadows mill about in fascination and abject hunger as a long finger slides down between her legs to part her glistening labia and disappear from their view. The shadows jostle once again, to fully view the hands upon her mound, to see the finger disappear as it works its way inside her wet canal and wish it was their own heavy full prick that existed in its stead. From the way her hips writhe, the entity knows that she is stimulating her clitoris. Not a shadow in the room remains limp, their own excitement becomes one with Shania’s, feeding it as they watch the sensual display she is providing. To say she does not know what is going on would be false, that she wears the blindfold and feels the desire only shows she is purposefully leading the assembled horde on. What she does not know is that it is not 2 pairs of eyes that glisten in the gathering darkness but a few short of fifty….a number that might lead her to pause and scream in terror. Yet the blindfold keeps her from the full truth and so she continues blissfully ignorant of the situations and commotion she is causing. Aloud then in a voice filled with husky desire, “God I hope you are watching….doing ….for you.”
Moving her hand lower, she works to position a couple of fingers and all in the small overfilled room know what is coming next. They relish the thought of entering that deep wet shaft themselves. To sink into the inviting flesh and live again if only for a few moments. To taste the honey of her loins….a sweet nectar long denied. Sure enough, the fingers disappear upwards as she slides them slowly into her orifice. Withdrawing the fingers for another go, the shadows see they are slick with her glistening juices before she thrusts them back into her welcoming wet cunt. Increasing the pace and rhythm she begins to roll her splendid hips in time with the pounding of her fingers in and out of her body, all the while sighing and moaning ecstatically. The digits become a blur and hips grind down to welcome their invasion, while Shania moans louder and louder with her rising excitement. At last she seems to become aware of the noise she is making, and even though she lives miles from anyone it embarrasses her. Releasing her massively engorged nipples, the girl stuffs her hand into her mouth to muffle the cries of pleasure, just as her entire body grows rigid, then, as an obvious orgasm washes over her, the entity watches in fascination through fifty odd eyes as she shudders with its intensity. He smiles as only he knows how, this has to be the girl he has waited these long lean years for.
He tells the shadows gathered in the room to wait…..wait till she sleeps and then enter her dreams. Keep the blindfold over her eyes and take her as she wills, a test to see what she is capable of. Tomorrow they will reveal themselves if all goes well. The shadows gather closer, waiting for their chance as the night carries on and eyelids from heavy beneath the blindfold.
Resting now, lust satiated only temporarily, Shania longs to feel a man inside her, filling her. As the night moves on and her eyelids flutter in REM sleep beneath the blind fold the phantoms are given leave to begin their work. Eagerness as one after the other jostle for the chance to work with her. It is a work that they have waited for, this time the entity allows much more freedom in their desire, only slowing the hysteria to allow the girl time to recover from each in turn.
Her phantom lovers hold her, then begin their touch, she allows it, even goes so far as to take there hands in hers and guides them. Hands work her naked glistening flesh as the sheen of sweet sweat begins to build upon her. More hands, all seeking her flesh, she obliges them not really asleep but not fully awake either. Heaven descends to earth as the mouths of a dozen lovers begin to flow across her skin. Feeling herself carried as if floating in the air itself, she flows upwards onto soft clouds. No longer constrained by the edge of a couch and its steep back she stretches out her entire body, arms go wide as something wraps itself around each of them, drawing them wider. Allowing it if only to see what will happen….if only to keep those hands and mouths feeding upon her flesh active. Drifting upon a cloud of lilacs and roses, their sweet scent fills her nostrils.
Shania moves to spread her legs wide, this time there are no constraints to her movement, she tugs her arms to encircle one of her lovers but cannot, finds them pinned. Hands and fingers clench and then unclench. She feels the tip of something cool and soft before her mouth, as the moan escapes past parted lips the item presses her forcefully, she tastes it then and remembers. Opening her mouth as a gift to her lover she takes him in. Feels a tongue flick its way across the protective hood of her half erect clit. Hips move in rhythm with the tongue, desiring to reach yet another climax….as many as her lover can provide. Mouth moves in rhythm with the hips.
As she begins to bob upon the stiffening member that dances before her mouth her legs are lifted up and back, each pinned next to her arms at their elbows opening her up fully. She squirms for a moment uncomfortable with the position…but the pleasure of the tongue upon her slit, and the joy she feels with pleasing her lover with her mouth overcomes the momentary hesitation. Fire spreads from her loins and into her arms and legs. Gasping from around the swollen member in her mouth as her throat vibrates with the ensuing moan of her first orgasm she brings him off. While an accident, the sensation sets off the engorged prick as it unloads its hot cum into and then out of her mouth. Sputtering at the taste and texture, the cum dribbles down her chin though this time she swallows some while the moans of her own ecstasy contrive against her better judgment to spite it all out. Lungs scream in gasps of air between moans, but her free mouth does not remain so for long as she feels the shifting of weight under her back, the cloud moving as bodes move about her….bodies? It registers then in a brief passing moment, it is not one, it is two, and is just as quickly forgotten in a haze of pleasure.
She feels another stiff fleshy prick slide against the opening to her pussy, she yearns for it to be inside, pushes up with her hips as best she can in the position she is in…it slides in and halts, she feels it against her hymen, stopping there, knows that her virginity, her pureness will stop any further attempt. Crying out in frustration does no good, the shaft slides lower, against her anal bud, tightly she clenches down, opens her mouth to say a word only to have it stuffed by yet another cock. Settling down again, wondering why her dreams have a way of not going the way she would want them too she works the prick in her mouth. Wants her pussy filled, feels a bony finger slide into her ass instead. Something in her psyche gives in, allow her lover access to whatever will make him happy…Two cocks begin to plunge into her, she adjusts the dream, her lovers it says…two males…her unseen servants, her elves or angels.
As the cocks piston on and out of her she feels more hands and mouths upon her breasts, pushes up her chest to have them suckled fully, feels the pain as teeth bite down on engorged nipples, somehow it only serves to heighten the sensations of pleasure even more so. Thinking it is somehow strange that she revels in the desire that floats through the clouds she lays upon. Wanted and needed by these males, not quite men, yes something is missing. A cascade of sparks through her nervous system shuts off the thought as yet another spasm of her wet and untouched pussy causes her to shudder and moan driving the males to their own release…
She has shown such stamina and willingness. He knows she does not sleep, not this time, there is awareness behind the cloth covered eyes, yet she continues as if it is a dream. It must be the time….tomorrow will be the final unveiling of all before her very own eyes. Tomorrow she will leave behind her innocence in more ways than one.
The girl upon the bed trembles as she continues to climax, body and mind aroused and responding to each touch, each new onslaught. They are all around her, enveloping her in their combined desire as it feeds her own. A moan crosses soft lips, her own music to the sounds of the night as the scent of her cum mingles with the scent of innocence and strawberry’s. She hears over her own moans the familiar buzz and longs for its touch. Soon she is rewarded, its hard smooth surface rubbing her engorged and free clit. Shuddering deep inside herself again and again, she is unable to even consider concentrating on the flesh that resides inside her mouth. Technique, none to good to start, ends, that however does not end the presence, the thrusting within her mouth.
Time blurs as bodies move about her. Pleasure fills her every thought and pore. Eventually the bodies stop moving upon the clouds that support her, leaving her alone. The last thing in the dream is the sound going still, allowing exhaustion to overtake her as she succumbs to a deeper sleep, the bodies long since disentangled from her flesh….Only a pink mist surrounds her, a healing touch that reduces the aches and pains that go with the exertion that her body has been put through.
Awakening the next morning to the familiar sound of birds singing their songs of happiness to a new day Shania shifts slightly in the large bed. The scent of clean air meets her nostrils as she rolls over in the bed and brings in a deep inhalation of air. Yes, it has been a very long nightmare; she will get up and give mom a really big hug….too long as a teenager, to ingrained in her own thoughts. Beautiful green eyes, large and round open, and see the brass bed she lays upon…strange…
”Oh god no,” she cries out, “not a dream…they’re dead really dead…”. Stops then, and sits up as the soft sheet slips from her shoulders to pool about her naked waist. The tears roll softly down her face as her back heaves and shudders with one sob after another. Breathing deeply she brings herself to the reality that is now, trying to not confuse it with the yearning for the past. Sitting upon a bed she ponders reality.
The dreams, must be real, yet….yet there is nothing about her body, no evidence of the cum that dripped from her mouth and ass the night before. Nor does she ache, no muscles are sore….she adds it up in her head; one and one…keeps coming up three. Had she really made love to multiple lovers last night, had they driven her across the brink of pleasure over and over as she had dreamed? Something must have changed, she feels it inside. Feels the tenderness of half engorged nipples, feels the wetness between her legs. Could a person really dream so vividly? Heard rumors boys could, sheriff had confirmed as much. To bad there is no internet connection, no way to research what was really happening to her mind and body.
Hands come up to her neck then, still the leather band remains….realizing then who put it there…reaching back behind her, she takes it off and looks it over, turning it in her hands. Her mind desires its feel about her neck, the hunger to wear it again, that with it on everything will be all right. Another side of her wishes to throw it, the design of all that torments her dreams perhaps. “No, for now I will leave you off…in spite my dreams and the pleasure there in…or maybe because of them”. Strange this, this game, wonders if the band will show back up about her neck in the future as it always has in the past…a small game to be played out.

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