Shokushu High School

The Training - Day 6

It was strange, these dreams, so real and yet lacking the evidence of actually having happened. There was somebody in the town though, that much was clear to her. Somebody made her meals would make the bed and wash the cloths. And there was somebody even now getting a bath ready, one she was sure would be pure heaven. Someone was taking care of her and it felt good again, just like her parents had once taken care of her. Rolling in the bed, enjoying the firmness of the mattress under her back, the bright brass gleaming in the morning sun, it wasn’t so bad being out here she told herself.
Mom would have said you never got anything for free. Well, she would have seen that some things didn’t come at a high price…a very small price to be sure. Mom would have been proud of her, what she had done. It made her happy in the knowing, knowing that she had done well….made the memories of her parents proud. With a smile starting from the inside out she picked herself up ready to meet the day.
Bare feet hit the wooden floor as she hummed a little song to herself. The towel hung over the bed frame, hiding the smooth bronze surface. At least things dried quickly in the desert, towels were never wet the next day. Wrapping its dark blue length around her petite frame, using her ample and firm breasts to hold it up she tucked the end into the wrap and proceeded down the stairs anticipating a warm breakfast. Already the scent of food permeated the air in the upper hallway as she stepped into it.
“It smells good…..your making me hungry….so do I get to meet the cook today?”, the sound of her clear voice carrying through the house. Floorboards creak as feet tread upon them, moving quickly down the staircase. Food was never something she turned away, the metabolism of a rabbit keeping her thin in all the right places. Friends envious as she ate the foods they could not. Well it was not going to be extravagant today, but she new it would be good.
Rounding the corner, the table with its place setting of one was already awaiting her. She ate quickly then, hoping to meet her benefactor in the next place she would visit, a place of carnal delights for the last two days…..hoping to make it a third and finally met the man responsible. Smiling big and toothy, lips full even when thinned by the grin, she giggles like the schoolgirl she should be.
“Perhaps you’d like me to try a little harder,” talking to herself now, bouncing from the table to rummage through a suitcase. Clothes fly as she comes up with the bare rudiments of makeup. Standing before the mirror she had dragged into the room just a few days before she applies the lines around her eyes, making them even more distinguished. A little rouge hits the cheeks, dabs some on the top of her breasts laughing at the act. Finally a thin red pencil, painting in her luscious lips. She stands back a moment and admires the reflection in the mirror. Touches the black leather band about her neck, likes the effect it has of displaying suppleness of her skin. “Kid, you only land the big fish with the right bait...” tries a demure little stance, “My, what big eyes you have….too big, but you have to work with what you have” humming then, she spins and heads for the door.
The entity watches through the eyes of his followers, today….today he will introduce her to the assembled host, entice her to perform for them all. Yes, a little more clothing to draw out the act, a little preparation just as she has prepared herself this day.
Shadows play across the dark spaces of her house gathering up the sundry items the master demands. They steal through the discarded items newly liberated from her suitcase. Only one more remains, untouched until she opens it to them. Strange how powers that seem to have no bounds can be foiled by such simple means of denied access. Perhaps the secrets that reside in it will be soon revealed….it is only a matter of time.
Shania bounces barefoot down the well worn path to the bath house, keeping the towel from falling away by pinning her arms to her sides. Her voice fills the air with song. A song of hope and love, a modern beat, shadows listen intently some absently lifting their feet in rhythm to her song – too long it has been since a woman graced their halls. If she had looked closely enough she might have seen the small puffs of dust, but for now her mind is clearly on but one goal, and that is her bath and the pleasure she derives from it.
Trails in the dust trails as insubstantial feet shuffle slowly forward in the dirt that bare feet had just trampled moments before. Before them are the gifts that will be placed upon the table and await her eventual transformation. Nothing exotic, only the clothes that the master has determined are everyday wear, strange as they may seem to the ethereal types that carry them forth like holy relics to be offered upon some ancient altar.
Bouncing now with anticipation she scampers into the darkened room with its gleaming tubs of cooper. ‘Yes’, it is still true that the tub is filled with its water soap and something that smells of sweetness and innocence. Two items remain upon the table next to the tub, the familiar strip of cloth and an old fashioned pair of manacles. She pauses at the sight, tentatively picking up the black iron and turning over the weighty fastenings in her hands. They are clean, glistening with a fine sheen of oil. Something has been working with these she decides, not a glimmer of rust speckles their perfect black surface. A pause then as eyes drink in their image and the mind ponders the significance.
Yes, she has been tied up. But this, this speaks of permanence of a far greater significance. Just what is this game she is playing? Is it turning to a dangerous level? This was perhaps a step to far for her own comfort level. “I tell you what …I’ll put on the blindfold and we call it even….Glad we could work this out.” No answer, but then didn’t really expect one. She takes the towel and lays it upon the table. With one foot she tests the water temperature, finds it too her liking and steps into the tub fully. Finally she places the cloth about her eyes and ties it in place.
Disappointment…should he have really expected more from her at this point? Yet he had hoped, you could never push the envelope if you didn’t try, and he would have her as he desired, ready, willing and submissive. He had watched her closely, communication at unspoken levels, yes, she had understood the implications, her eyes had betrayed her, her own spoken words backing it up….he had learned to read her actions and her gestures correctly, she would be an open book to him. Still she had not done what she should have and now would have to be shown the way……Anything worth doing is hard and takes time….Yes….it was the way of humans.
Shania sat back in the tub, letting the water enwrap her in its cool embrace. The wait only serves to enhance her already overactive imagination. Blood courses through veins in anticipation, heating her body. Fingers trail over soft smooth flesh as she waits. A thought then, ‘does the man watch her even now…should she make him as hot as she feels?’, With a smirk across her lips she brings fingers to more sensitive flesh, tracing the outlines of her curves, arching her back and pushing her chest out to any that may be watching. The many red eyes watched in fascination and growing desire.
Finally the fingers run through her hair, down her temples…neck…then shoulders. “ahh, your back…I’ve looked forward to you” a smile then, hopes that it is sexy. How do you talk with someone that never answers? How do you let them know you really want them…want them in ways that are not talked about? Sex was a taboo subject back home, yet her she was living with this desire everyday. The whole subject embarrassed her…..the things she had done…..who was she really? Yet the desire of her body drove her on to explore its limits, in spite the nature of her soul.
His hands worked under her shoulders and gently pulled upwards, guiding arms upward and together. Then an audible click at the same time as cold metal came across her right wrist. Eyes flutter open beneath the cloth, a vain attempt at being able to confirm what she fears is happening. “no…”, a second click, a second hand imprisoned even with her half hearted attempt to stop it, “please….you know …I’ll be good.” Arms fall forward, released from the confining grip of her….lover? The weight of the iron manacles settle about her wrists, uncomfortable in the confinement and lack of freedom. Fear springs anew in her mind, “why….please tell me”.
No response but the stroke of strong fingers upon her flesh as the unseen servant settles into the task of cleaning her for the upcoming party. Tasked by the master, suffering from his fate of immortality and the price he has paid of eternal desire. The flesh and female essence beacons him, but he will only participate if she offers….knowing he cannot overcome the innocence that has blocked all their efforts thus far. That shall not last either……
With each stroke, Shania settles herself into the dreamy world of touch, fear passing away like water flowing downstream. Slowly the tension in her shoulders passes away, the manacles upon her wrists forgotten I the touch of strong firm fingers upon her sensitive flesh. Functional and sensual at the same time, she works to suppress the moans that threaten to spill across her red painted lips. Why give up the way he makes her feel? With her visibly relaxed now red eyes glisten with the thoughts of the next step.
Pulled from her revere by the gentle pulling on the chain between the manacles, sign for her to get up. She rises, water splashing as it runs from her hair and down her back to fall once again into the pool at her feet. What is today’s twist? Her imagination active, her arms imprisoned in iron held above her head. With taps upon her skin she steps from the water and onto the wood flooring, this time it does not end there. Each step takes her further from her zone of comfort and familiarity. A tap and she stops. Another almost inaudible click, she strains to her the footsteps, anything to tell her what will happen. Heart pounds within her chest and blood flows harder. Imagination runs wild with the endless possibilities of her demise now. She tests her bonds by moving her arms, hears the rattle of metal on metal as the iron holds her arms firmly overhead.
Fear closes in on her mind. Unable to move away as her hands are firmly anchored over her head, she tensely awaits her fate. With each passing moment fear clenches a little further about her mind like the gathering shadows of a setting sun upon the town. Breaths come a little easier as the familiar towel strokes her skin, drying her body even as the heat of the day evaporates the water from her. Skin goes cold, nipples harden drawing the flesh tight over her breasts as water becomes air; amazing how the desert heat can do that to a person. Goosebumps rise upon her skin in the sudden chill. The hands and towel leave her body then…thinking hard, brow wrinkled above the cloth….how could she get away if she needed to? Did she really want too?
A light touch then, something smooth and silky upon her skin….tickles as it runs down her arms….stifles a laugh as it flows across the armpit. “What are you doing…..that tickles….” Another light touch upon her cheek, then down her neck, flinching away from the torment and being stopped by the iron round her wrists. Giggles slightly, “Your doing this on purpose aren’t you”….a smile. The touches continue, on arms, legs, playing with her. “I’ll get even for this…” laughing now at each touch….”this … not ….fair….” Breathing hard as laughter fills the room. ‘tickled to death’ the thought plays across her mind. Knees buckle and she hangs for a minute, the pain in her wrists overriding the sensations upon her skin….”god, ok……stop now….can’t ….breath…” another laugh rides across her tongue, unable to be suppressed.
I different touch now as string, or twine wraps around her wrist, fore arm, shoulders…pulled tight each time and then let loose. The process continues over her heated body one location at a time. Hands roll the twin down her front, pausing as they go; until every inch of her is touched by it. The smooth texture of the string becomes apparent, if string it is. Fingers linger on her body playing with her nipples and then sliding away with the taught string. Down it moves, then sideways….Legs part, hoping for more of the touches, fingers oblige as the string travels from neck to mound, between breast and over her abdomen. She moves against the hands once again to force them onto her body…delights when they touch her mound, slide further ending in her cunt. They move again…always moving, finally ending with her ankles. The taps tell her to lift each leg one at a time, and then step down upon paper of some sort only to repeat the process again to step upon the wooden planks of the floor, the paper now gone.
The soft fluff returns to torment her… she laughs again, loud and hard from the bottom of her lungs, unable to control it or her swaying body. Unable to get away from the constant attention with her arms stretched and anchored overhead she is forced to accept the light touch upon her skin. The relentless assault continues, so much so she feels the need to pee….makes her uncomfortable, holding back as breaths comes in gasps between laughs. “oh…god….no …tickle….need ….to ….e ….fucked….”
The tickling stops, did she really just say that? ‘Not the way I was brought up’, she thinks the words still echoing in her mind. The fire in her pussy, the wetness between her legs, the hardness of her nipples all speak to the truth of the words….continues to gasp as her breathing catches up. Her arms fall, no longer held up, dragged down by the weight of iron upon the wrists, and continues to crumple all the way to the floor, panting on her back, gulping at the air. Over time the breaths slowly regain their normal cadence, “you still here?” Question answered as something cold and metallic presses between her lips stopping any further discussion. She tastes the tang of the metallic surface, the ridges and swirls of it against her tongue. Brings her hands up then to remove the object, waits a moment and then slips off the blind fold.
A key, tries it on the manacles and finds it works….one click then another and she is free of the bonds to her freedom. Glancing around she sees the table with her clothes…clothes this time, real ones. Jeans, sports bra, green halter top, shoes, socks, lace panties…cowboy hat, sunglasses…all here, like she’s to be ready for an outing. She puts it on, the lace panties being one of her newest additions. Smiles and giggles while pulling the thin little straps up and over her round hips….thinks of having them on for that special someone. Perhaps her bath mate? Leaves the black iron manacles upon the floor, the key by their side, she has no need of them.
The clothing accents her curves, a little wiggle showing up in her walk that wasn’t there just a few weeks ago. Satisfaction however eludes her, the bath not going as far as she would have liked leaving her frustrated and horny. The last week has gone against everything she has been brought up with. Clothing should cover the body when you went…didn’t get naked…didn’t let strangers tie you up. What was she becoming that she actually enjoyed this?
Still the desert seems brighter to her eyes as she walks from her bath, the browns gather a rose hue to them. A smile crosses still red painted lips, far less despair upon her heart. Life is good. Music drifts on the wind that nudges her from behind. Music? A faint pause in her steps, yes she does her something…the keys of a piano play. Eyes dart about, looking for what ears can hear. Remembers then the old piano in the saloon……she turns her attention and hears the melody coming from the old saloon. Will her guests reveal themselves? She scampers the short distance to the swinging double doors, the sun hot upon her skin.
Cool shade beacons from behind the tours, still she pauses not certain what she shall find behind them. Shania summons the courage just as she has so many times before, this time to step through the doors. The music has stopped playing…..what to expect? Sweat already drips down her body, her tank top darkening over firm breasts from the moisture. Grasping the mirrored sunglasses she removes them to see into the dark interior. Pulling off her hat she wipes her face with her arms ...settling the cowboy cap back upon her brow. Just like the cowboys of old, the gunslinger ready to make her unforgettable entrance.
The room could be a set from a modern western film. Though it had been previously dusty, it now sparkles in cleanliness, another change from her first explorations….another building with a faded red cross that suddenly becomes clean and usable. The building is still intact after almost a century, the long wooden bar, tables and chairs, the upright piano. The bottles of various shapes and sizes that line the wall behind the bar now glisten in the light filtering in from the saloon doors. She licks dry lips, parched throat wanting something to drink. Glasses are aligned upon the shelf behind the bar, ready to serve any who may come.
Shania pushes open the saloon doors, , noticing the near silence of the hinges as she steps inside, walking around.... touching her small hand on a stack of rotting cards... new ones should grace this fine table she thinks to herself. Past the piano, a single slender finger pushing a key and shuddering at the flat note that crackles from it. “Owe…. that’s horrible”. Spins then, hair cascading over shoulders from beneath the hat and addresses the make believe crowd... “Well boys, she’s back, the meanest hombre this side of the Colorado river…”
Laughing then, “The ole sheriff said that I wasn’t to frequent this place, but as mayor the drinking age has just been approved at 18.” She smiles, finally walking to the bar and lifting a full bottle of some sort of liquid thunder. That it sits upon the bar with a glass next to it as if waiting for her she seems to not notice. Red pouty lips full of life, her eyes sparkling with mischief, knowing she is about to get into trouble….trouble that was avoided in her past.
Paper, old and flaking, still covers the bottles surface, Johnny Walker it says. Pulling off the top, the cork cart wheeling through the air, she sniffs the bottle and wrinkles her nose. “wooo, this stinks…”. With a comical expression, the petite girl turns to the dusty and cracked-like-a-jigsaw-puzzle mirror, she salutes herself and in her best Cagney voice "Here's looking at you kid", tilting the bottle back she takes a small swig then sputters, coughs and bends over, her eyes watering as she sets the bottle on the counter. Droplets cover the bar before her, “yahhhh, its the good stuff”, she laughs feeling better in the process, “might take a bit of getting used to”. This time she takes a more tentative sip, feels the fire burn down to her very core as it makes its way to her belly.
With a sudden noise the piano begins to play itself. The sound is loud in the silence, startling the girl, making her jump. Eyes, white surrounding the green pupils, look around for the cause. With relief she realizes it is an auto play piano and that touching it must have triggered its mechanism. Though in this town anything is possible….Glancing about, eyes seek something, someone in the darkness of the corners, yet nothing stirs.
The bottle feels comforting in her small hand, still shaking from the shock, her eyes wide as she brings the bottle up again, taking a bigger drink, grimacing as the liquid burns yet another fiery path down her throat. Warmth oozes and spreads from her center. Nothing like the few beers she has had with friends, never like this. She warms to the day, the music, the saloon, what stories it would tell it only it could talk.
Music continues, dancing over to the piano, her hips swaying a bit to the music, she holds the bottle as a lover, spins it in her arms. Remembers her classical dance training from long before, the things parents make their kids do. The thought saddens her, a simple memory of family. “To those we loved and lost, a toast”, she tilts the bottle back and takes a long drag. Setting the bottle down upon the piano top with a clink of glass upon wood, she looks about once again. The room shifts suddenly, grabbing the back of a chair. "O-Oh I… I… think I gonna be drunk.... HICCUP... yeppers I think I am..." Moving to sway with the music her eyes a bit closed as she dances around the tables, Shania hiccups again, her tummy warm from the whiskey as her mind begins to get fuzzy.
Hot eyes crowd the room, watching the diminutive blonde swaying around, seeing her disorientation.... it will be soon… and played right she will never be sure until it's too late.... never be sure exactly what happened much like the nights, the dreams. What she did to herself, what she fantasized it will remain a blur. An unseen hand flicks a switch on the piano, the new tune recognizable... The Stripper…
Shania grins as she spins, pulling off her hat and tossing it to the side. For a moment she senses the joy and desire of eyes upon her, welcomes it, wants to return it. The desire begins to drive her, she pretends that men sit at the tables, at rare moments she can almost see their shadowy forms. ‘yep, this stuff could be very very bad for you’, she thinks to herself, and for the first time, ‘nothing like getting bad for a little while’….out loud then, “let the games begin.”
Legs straight and spread she bends over looks back over her eyelids at nothing and gyrates her ass. Smiling, she pulls off her sunglasses and tosses them onto a nearby table. With a spin she rests her buttocks on the table…leaning back, as she kicks out her long slender legs bending them at the knee, she tosses her hair in a wild abandoned...."YEA BABY! Feel the music...' The alcohol induced haze lowering her inhibitions, making her more extroverted. Laughing she spins to the big billiard table nearly twice her size, and hops on the edge sitting on just one ass cheek as she stretches out a leg... then bending her knee she sexily unties her boot and kicks it off.... pretending to roll stockings down her long slim leg she tosses her sock away... doing the same to the other. Rolling onto the pool table, the small blonde girl strikes a pose; her knees bent, her head back.... then flowing to her feet she spins again, moving gracefully on the raised surface as she snakes her arms, lifting her top away and twirling it on her finger then dropping it in a hole on the table. Jeers and howls of the audience reach her ears as they go mad in lust. Reviling in their desire, she jiggles her tits and ass, senses the desire so strong it shows like fog surrounding her in its infernal embrace. Tastes it upon her tongue, giving her hot flashes along her legs and up into her pussy. Along with the music and the alcohol they combine to release something deep and primal in her core. Awakens to a surge of energy and need far more urgent than any she has felt before….gasps then and produces a feral grin. She hunts.
He smiles, if that is what you could call it. He watches as the young thing begins to open, blossoming into a creature of pure passion and lust. His minions come alive, jostling to get closer to the table, to watch the entire show, a show pushed by their own desire, and her own seemingly unnatural abilities. Yes, there is power there, power from a source similar to his own. Through dozens of eyes he watches…sees the change of light within her eyes,….wonders….
Losing herself in the jingly music, Shania sways and kicks again as she wiggles and shimmies lowering her blue jeans slowly as she squats then with a flick of her foot they sail across the bar... somewhere in the back of her mind that part that is her strength tries to reason, tries to regain control ... clues all wrong here, senses the lustful nature of the shadows, desires to flee... but the fuzz of the whiskey and the need to finally just let go has over-ridden her common sense. With a thrust of her hips as her arms reach behind, the new bra falls forward onto the table, her breasts bouncing, her nipples hard pink points... Finally as she sways and bends, slides her lacy green panties down and then stands, her arms over her head the panties hanging from her finger as the music stops.... her eyes closed and a soft smile imagining the looks of the boys at her old high school if they were to see her now. She can sense what they would be feeling, envisions it and likes it. She wonders why she hadn’t let them into her pants, inhibition loosing to the heat, and some would say common sense as well.
All around, dimly seen shapes sit at the tables, eyes glowing redly, fixed on the slender naked body, an appreciative audience that probably exists only in her own drunken imagination, silently urging her on, asking her to give them a show... The piano starts up again, a slow sensuous tune, firing the blood, she recognizes the tune form her own collection of music, black velvet, the song she had danced to the first night in this town….. The desires of the rowdy crowd taking hold of her mind and reflecting itself in her own mind as she sways upon the table. Body suddenly tingling in response, Shania sways with the music her hands cupping her breasts, her finger splayed apart so the nipples poke through.... She can tell what they want, decides to give it too them and more. Massaging her full breasts she starts a spin and her feet tangle... the whiskey dulling her natural reflexes and grace ... still reacting her hands fly forward as she falls. Lands in the centre of the table on her knees ...shaking her head as she rests there on hands and knees, her legs slightly spread, her heavy breasts hanging like upturned bells, looking even bigger against her slender frame, pink nipples hard and long.
Desire swells in her mind, overpowering in its intensity. With her body tingling with the physical sensations she then does the unthinkable, snaking a hand between her legs, she moves her fingers over her mound and lips, parting the darker edges to show off the wet inner pinkness, inviting the touch. Through cloudy vision she sees the men’s smiles and smiles herself. The applause is deafening in its exuberance, the back of her mind is overwhelmed by it all as it senses the shear and utter maleness about her, wanting her, now!
As she kneels naked and disoriented, shadowy shapes move to surround the girl, seeming almost dreamlike as they ring the table. Hands reach out, feeling solid enough as they grip wrists and calves, holding the blonde immobile. So too do the hands that move onto her body, stroking soft skin, reaching beneath her to cup large firm breasts, caressing slim inner thighs and massaging the perky ass. Shania shakes her head trying to clear it… a part of her aware this is impossible... "No no ahhhh no don’t... Th… this isn’t right." She feels the desire, and now knows what their intention is, no different then those boys from her own town….except…”oh god…. Wh why …do I feel need this”, Struggling half-heartedly as her body shivers from the cool hands that seem to leech the heat of the day from her... Is she really seeing the man she has entertained in the bath…bony hands cupping her breasts as bony thumbs roll her nipples harder...? She shakes her head, the pale blonde hair dancing and caressing over the pale shadowy almost there things... as she unconsciously opens her knees wider, her pussy lips small and puffy, glistening now with dampness... her anus a tiny pink pucker.
A small band of leather with a brass buckle floats in the air before her eyes, she whimpers, knowing there is significance, can feel it in the shadows now working her body. It floats out of view, only for the skin of her neck to feel it as it is brought around. She bobs her head, trying to keep it from being fastened about her. A word comes to her mind, …marked? The leather draws tight about her throat and an awkward cheer erupts about her. Hands once again close upon her skin. So many….so many…..This is not how she has envisioned her first time, not her dream and yet she is responding, wanting them and hating herself for it.
The shadow forms seem entranced by the smooth pale skin, hands wandering everywhere, stroking back and belly, massaging shoulders and calves. The firm full shapes of pendant breasts arouse special attention, two hands on each mound, squeezing and kneading them, bony fingers gripping and pressing the aroused nipples, flattening them slightly, rolling and tugging the rubbery teats. Hard hands grasp the taut skin of a young ass, gripping and squeezing, rotating the firm buttocks in their clasp. Another hand reaches down under her belly, over the smooth curve of clean-shaved mound, a bony finger sinking between swollen lips and into the wetness, finding an erect clit and rubbing over it. Another hand approaches the girl’s sex from behind, spreading her lips wider than she herself had and then sliding a long finger into her pussy until it meets an obstruction.
Shania responds with a moan as her tight pussy grips the cool bony finger... finally will she be fucked as she has desired for the last few days…her blood dancing hot from the whiskey and making her head fuzzy and full.... the pleasure swirling with it as her sensitive nipples swell and extend to nearly an inch, drawing the skin on her breasts to firmness over them. Trying to shake her mind free from this, somewhat dully she thinks... this is not possible ... not possible... then surprisingly she lifts her head and moans deeply ... her pussy clenching hard in a small orgasm. Yes,,,,yes this is what she now lives for, shudders at the thought. Energy pulsates about the room and the shadows jostle amongst themselves to get closer, to feed upon it.
Ghostly fingers keep arousing her body, the hands not leaving Shania alone, squeezing her breasts and ass, tugging on long engorged nipples, massaging the hard clit, somewhere the entity controlling these shapes watches, making mental notes, the most sexually sensitive parts, the easy arousal, the highly erotic nature buried under a veneer of coolness... this could well be the girl he has waited for, for so long. They seek to wrestle yet more orgasms from the lithe frame, to feed their own desire and make them once again strong.
The finger in Shania’s cunt seems unsure what to do about the obstruction, exploring it with its tip, then withdrawing as though to some unheard command. Almost seeming to raise itself, a billiard cue moves from the wall rack, carried by a shadowy figure that drifts behind the girl. Red eyes glow, fixed on her open pussy. Then the cue is angled until the thick end lines up with her pussy’s entrance, touching slick pink skin, twirled around to gather love juice as it starts to move inside. Shania arches in her drunken haze, moaning as the thick end twists inwards, her pussy gripping it hard causing it to grab and tug the sensitive lips... her mind clearing a bit as she looks with glazed green eyes through the hair across her face... now straining more, somewhere in her mind saying ‘this is wrong’ but deeper a need, an unfulfilled shadowy need, that seems to know that she is on a path she can’t leave… and desperately desires. How long has she pleaded in her dreams for them to enter her, do what they will….Still she struggles a bit, her nipples hard as her silky smooth pussy grips the round wooden cue. "No no stop no no thi… this isn’t right….I …wan…..want...flesh”
Though it cannot be flesh, for the innocence of the girl will not let them pass. First it must be dealt with and then they can give her what she wants. In circumspect they would abide by the girls desires, but a first step would have to be done without their own shadowy flesh. Hands came back and with their soothing caresses got her ready for the step that would have to come.
Bony hands grip firm calves spreading legs wider as the thick cue butt widens her tight little pussy, sinking deeper until it meets the obstruction of her hymen. Insatiable, the other forms surround the girl, working over hard swollen tits, milking erect nipples, squeezing her taut ass. With a sharp thrust virginity is torn apart, the impetus driving the cue deep, slick with her juices and released blood
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" Shania arches and struggles as the sharp pain of her hymen tearing clears her mind.... her eyes wide now as she looks over her shoulder at the shadowy forms, their red eyes filled with desire scaring her more as her own lust and desire to give them what she wants fills her mind. She wants them all with a burning lust...a lust she feels to her core due to the curse that dwells inside, a lust that feeds her own. Her tight pussy quivers and grips hard stopping, for a moment, the inward thrust of the cue. Inner muscles much stronger than any woman these shadows may have found before. The shade holding the cue seems surprised as the thick stick is gripped, taking hold of it with both hands and drawing it part way out, ramming it back in against the resistance, barely avoiding rupturing her cervix as it drives deep, using all it's strength to shaft the long cue slowly in and out of the girl’s cunt while she continues to grip it tightly in her struggles. Heat builds inside, wanting release…Shania screams now as the cue bounces off her cervix...pain from the first time cascading and clearing her mind. Struggling within her mind now, as the heat builds wildly within and yet a part of her still believes this is wrong, bad… horror before her eyes…not men…no …something else.
Straining as her pussy grips, feeling the gathering heat that threatens to erupt from within even as drops of blood fall from her pussy lips to splatter on the table, the dry felt soaking the moisture from it and quickly turning black... as Shania struggles now, her breasts swaying in the grips of the cool hands, her nipples teased and rolled, she feels her blood stir... her stomach hot, her breasts tight.
With a final tug the shadowy figure pulls the cue out of the tight pussy and sets it to one side on the table. Absently she thrusts backwards, trying to regain the shaft, to bring it inside her. Crawling up behind the girl, the shadow kneels between her legs; its thick hard cock pushes forward to glide between puffy wet lips, the head spreading tight walls wider than the cue did as he thrusts in. At the same time another shadowy figure climbs up before the confused blonde, taking her hair, pulling her face around to look forward, dragging her face up to confront another heavy prick. Shania tries to pull back from the shadowy cock...forcing herself further upon the thick cock in her pussy… arches her back, not fully realizing she is wiggling herself further upon the hard fat shaft….Lips part to accept the one before her, feral passion building within. The thick cool cock thrusts into her pussy, hips gyrate wildly now, her fiery hot pussy squeezing the cool cock there hard... very hard.... quivering as it tries to keep him inside. Something awakens inside her now, something beast like, wanting to mate, filled with lust.
Bony hands grip slim hips as the cock in her pussy drives deeper, forcing itself fully inside the tight channel of Shania’s cunt, resting there for a while, to let her feel the fullness of it inside her. The figure before her drags hard on long blonde hair, holding the sweet, heart-shaped face immobile and using the girl’s moan to shove it’s large cock between her parted lips and into her mouth. The assault on her nipples and clit continues relentlessly. Shania’s lips grip the cock as she bites down... her tongue swirling over the tip, trying to push it back…allow her to breath... her pussy quivering as it adjusts to the bigger cool cock... her blood beginning to roar in her ears, her body hot as the afternoon sun outside in stark contrast to the cool hands roaming over her... then her ass clenching and her pussy quivering and squeezing as a second orgasm stronger then the last dances along her nerves. She feels like electricity flows along her skin, pulsing and tingling as her pussy continues to quiver in a long lasting outpouring of pure pleasure.
The shadow before Shania seems impervious to the pain of her teeth; the only effect to slow down its movements as it holds her hair roughly, fucking her mouth. Nothing like the blow job she had done previously…this is animalistic, her response much the same, the beast within rules her now. Behind her, the shadowy figure drives into the tight, spasming cunt, cumming fast, the discharge seeming real as it spurts up inside, though no fluid seeps out. Moving aside a new shade takes it's place, a new cock replacing the old in the recently virgin cunt. Shania gags as the cool cock slides into her throat, her lips tight around its shaft as she moans, her throat vibrating and her lips quivering... she struggles again as she feels the second cock thrust easily into her slick HOT pussy.
The two shades fuck the tiny girl fast and hard, using both her mouth and cunt, cumming their ghostly fluid and making way for a new pair. The hands on her tits withdrawing as those holding them move to take their turn. But the hard grips on her nipples remain, holding the long hard tips still and letting the swaying motion of the girl’s breasts pull against them, first one way, then the other. She moans as she orgasms again, her eyes watering from the pain of her taunt nipples as she tries to move ... rocking with the thrusts yet her nipples hold still.... the desire, need, pain and helplessness mixing with the shame of taking so many in her first real sexual encounter. Yet her body responds to each touch, her pussy squeezing and quivering, gripping each new cool cock, as she feeds off the needs of the shadows and they feed from her. Each orgasm a bit weaker than the previous as her body pays the price, the shadows slowly leaching the energy from her mortal flesh.
One after another, the shadowy figures use Shania’s cunt or hold their thick cocks in her hot mouth as she sucks them voraciously, inhibitions lost in a miasma of pleasure. Finally, arms fail, no longer able to support the weight of her body, giving in to utter fatigue…leaving her face upon the felt surface, her cunt the only orifice still used. As each finishes a new one takes its place in a seemingly endless line. The room dims as afternoon turns to evening, until finally the last one takes her cunt, thicker and longer than the rest, stretching her a bit wider, fucking her a bit longer then spurting ghostly fluid into an abused pussy. Shania quivers as another orgasm plays through her exhausted body.... how many drawn from her body she can’t tell... but through the last hours they seem nearly continuous, one after the other... She lays there, her ass thrust in the air her knees wide apart, her pussy open and quivering as she rests her face on one cheek... her eyes staring at the twilight through the doors.... her mind a fog of disbelief, pleasure and pain.... her nipples aching, body sore, her clit engorged and tingling from the wisps of breeze.... Then she begins to cry softly, mind still reeling, not really knowing if it is out of sadness or joy.
As she kneels crying, a shadow leans over and breathes, a pale shimmering mist washing over the girl’s body, over her abused sex, into her pussy. Shania can almost feel the sensations fading, almost feel her pussy tightening and returning to its original size. As the hands release her exhausted body, she sinks fully down onto the table, too tired to move, whimpering as she curls tightly into a fetal position, her arms griping her knees... crying softly, her mind trying to sort out what happened.... finally giving in to the blessed darkness, her eyes closing as she slips off into a fitful sleep, the leather band still about her neck, forgotten in her exhausted state.
One last act of kindness as a blanket is brought and draped over the exhausted figure. They watch her sleep, and do not disturb it, grateful for what she has given them beyond the mere use of her body. Hope, yes, hope in all its glory, a chance to once again feed the hunger that torments their immortality.
The entity controlling the town would be smiling if it knew how. His minions thirst temporarily satiated after so long a drought binding them closer to him once again. He too had feed from a distance…would wait for the day he could feed directly on her energy. Yes he had seen many rocks in his time and no matter how well you cut a polished them they were still a rock. Today he knew he had a raw precious stone, one that had been forged in the pressure of life’s fires, one that with the right cuts and much polishing would become his most precious possession. No, this is no rock….
Upon the table the diminutive figure sleeps soundly. In the morning she will wake with the taste of liquor and a confused impression of losing control. And in front of her eyes will be a billiard cue, marred by her own blood. Will her mind reject what actually happened and believe that she used it on herself while drunk and horny? Either way she is softening up nicely. The band still about her throat, he applauds the decoration, hoping to put a new one there soon.

Ghost Town
Attempted Escape - Day 7 Sunday

Shania’s sleep is fitful as her mind dances in her memories...playing out her recent past…a past of death and pain. Her mother, distinguished with a personnal inner strength that she admired and missed. A Father that taught her the value of life and now was no longer there. She had lived her life trying to please them, loving their smiles and hugs as she accomplished the tasks of a dutiful daughter.
Mom, she had been the comforting presence in her life, the one that told her her gift was special and good. That kept her focused on the positives of life. Mother remained an enigma to her even in death though. Rumors abounded about her, of power, and mystic sight, but never confirmed. Dreams came and went and always it was her mother that provided the rock of stability in her life. It was the trait that endeared her to her own offspring. While some shunned her it was obvious that her father had loved her with all his heart.
Memories moved on to the day everything changed. The field trip as she flirted with Joey and Mark...wishing it were Ryan, pretending it was. The incessant beeping of her cell phone, the call and the frantic ride with the police... the terrible blackness of the farm... The curling layers of smoke as they slowly wafted into the air from what was still left of the empty burnt shell of the house and the barns.... a gagging stench of burnt flesh hanging in the air... "There was nothing anyone could do it happened to fast ...much too fast” Sobbing in her best friends arms even as the news crews stuck their cameras in her face. The national news media played the story for a day.... a gas line explosion in a rural area killing 25 in a fiery blast, that then burnt an area of 10000 acres... but only one farm wiped out.... her family's ...everything gone ... her parents, her cats, the cattle and crops.... her whole life gone in an hour... just like that... she discovered during the next several weeks that she had an inner strength she hadn’t known....she graduated, life went on.
She had only cried a few times...sobs that racked her small body to its very core... then she squared her shoulders as her father had taught and got on with it... she handled the paperwork guided by the bank…. selling everything as it all just held sadness for her anyway... leaving her with a nice amount of money in the bank...The lawyers that came calling to sue those responsible…a pack of vultures… the family lawyer found her a relative ... a great uncle on her mothers side that still lived out west and yes he had been contacted and after being told how much she was worth.... he had agreed to take her in.... The train ride out had been long and uneventful...a chance to see the countryside, a chance to see the big city along the way… Shania had decided over the weeks to open a bit... she had always been a bit shy and introverted...always had family to guard her and keep her safe. Now she had none of that…what was safe…the shelter of home was gone, it was time for her to make it on her own. The world at large intrigued her…the store intrigued her…she took some of her money and bought a few daring outfits that she hid in her suitcase.... something just a few months ago she wouldn’t have dreamed of doing...She thought about boys, and if she would ever have the guts to wear one of the outfits for one…
What had helped lift her was the friendliness of the locals she met ... how sad they were that her uncle had just died....The sheriff had just about adopted her, his kind eyes spoke to her in a way others did not. She felt their grief almost as if it was her own…Felt it even now, as a half awake mind felt the presence of the town, and misplaced it in dreams.
The desert was beautiful in a way that matched her need... lonely yet alive as she watched it unfold riding out in the pickup with the sheriff... then she was alone out here ... time to think ... to grieve. Suddenly she had found pleasure in life, immense as it was it drove her now, in ways she was not sure were right, right for her, or any other.
Then the nightmare returns... surrounded by fire... chased... Screams of her parents and the animals...changing that…to a cacophony of voices, pointing at her, calling her witch, seductress….harlot… but now there were also cool dry hands groping her naked body as she ran.... and ran ...and ran but never getting away from the hands and the glowing red eyes. The other voices continued the verbal assault, The devils consort they cried, striking at her because the bony hands could not be touched…but she could be….stone her they yelled. Saw the rocks tumble about her as she ran, some struck her…pain then, even as the hands continued to grope her naked flesh. She no longer ran from the hands, but rather the voices of hate and the stones they threw…she welcomed the hands, felt them upon her flesh and opened herself to them…they brought pleasure, the others only pain….
Shania wakes with a start and sits up on the big billiard table, the morning light dancing in through the windows... Gasps, as she removes her hand from between her legs, fingers wet and sticky the reality of the dream and her situation colliding. She shivers in the cool desert air as a breeze from the door wafts slowly over her naked form, a blanket lying in a pile next to her. The first realization of were she is. Not a bed, not her room or house, but a pool table. Eyes dart about, looking for the telltale signs in all the darker corners…red glowing eyes, someplace she knows she will find them watching her. Can feel them even now, growing hungry again never fully satiated.
Tired muscles protest as she moves, looking about her as mind reacts and forces the body to its will. By a pocket on the table are her green lacy panties and on the floor her tank top... grabbing those she quickly pulls them on. All she has time for as adrenaline surges through her veins bringing new strength and resolve with it. Runs to the doors not looking back, bare feet not even feeling the course wood beneath each foot fall. Mind set on attaining her freedom from this place of perversion... Shania nearly falls as she tumbles through the swinging bat doors of the saloon as they clang behind her, bouncing on the old hinges heading for the one house she thought safe, now knowing that the things that go bump in the night are real, as real as her perverted desire for them.
In the bright daylight the town looks so normal, just another faded and abandoned town, left to the heat and the rain, someday to fade away as it already has in the history books. The pale red glows were almost invisible, the shadowy shapes fully translucent.... but they were there... watching.... waiting, she could feel them. The cursed gift, realizing now the dreams and how they tangled together, was confusing the current reality with the past. The tank top not made to keep hear full breasts under wraps in a full out sprint slides downwards exposing her to the red eyes. Still she sprints heedless as tears flow down cheeks, a temporary wallowing in self pity as she continues down the dusty street, feet in panicked rhythm. Why me? She cries out then between gasps for air, “god, why me?”, not really expecting an answer. Shadows hear her call of despair, understand what now drives her down the street sobbing, still they clamor for the sensual nature of this girl. Desire her, grow stronger because of her.
During the night, the town entity had considered. This girl wouldn't break easily.... that was both good and bad. Good, in that subtle plans were probably no longer necessary… Good in that she would make a strong adept slave…. But bad in that she might be strong enough to shatter rather than bend to his will... A demonstration was needed. No doubt she would run. If not she would be.... persuaded to run.... and then a lesson would follow. Each lesson, both carrot and stick would be offered, for every thing done right he would show he would take care of her, and for what went wrong….well he had to uphold the training, ensure her of who was master.
Next time… he considers, yes, next time there won’t be any clothes left for her to find refugee in…only items that would make her eventually feel even more naked than if she had gone without them. Yes, she would learn that he would provide the clothing; even now his minions toiled to the specifications he had laid out for them. Obviously she did not understand her full worth, her bodies glory, or she would not spent so much time covering it at all…unless the clothing only enticed one to view her more closely.
Eventually he would ensure she was taught the forms, the manners that would make her fully his. It is an amusing addition to the training; even more so since the fashions had changed to wearing far less, but even so, the girl seemed to need what was left even more so, using the scraps of cloth to cover only the bare essentials in an effort to cling to her own outmoded modesty. Slowly ever so slowly she will run out of the cloth with which to cover her astounding body, a body that deserves to be viewed naked, supplicated before him, to be used for pleasure, to serve him.
Shania begins to move faster, her bare feet kicking up dust.... with a wide eyed glance back behind her she takes off fast... she had run a little track before and could run very fast when needed; her fear, her disbelief, added wings to her feet as she pumped for the house skidding in the dirt trying to turn...then bounding up the steps in two long strides. So on edge is she that the sharp rocks that gouge her tender skin are ignored in the desperation to be gone from this place….a place until last night she had believed to contain the greatest pleasures she had ever partaken in and even last night those pleasures had awoken a primal beast within her, something she now feared, feared the direction she was seemingly headed. The shadows watch her going with cold longing eyes. They have their instructions, recognized as such or not. This was not the time for them, no...not yet, they could only hope it soon would be. It would not go well if the master lost them this treat.
Shania’s mind is a whirlwind of activity. Inside now…door flying open with a clatter … need clothes... jeans and my other shoes.... will need water...food.... something to carry it in. I don’t care what they say I am out of here....bad idea this….I don’t know what they were but... but all of them...used me…wanted it…wrong…not a dream, not just a pool cue. No… No Shania don’t think on that now... plan... plan what you need to do…
Somewhere is a tub, filled to the top with water and bubbles, that much evidenced by the towel that is laid out on the couch… next to it as if…..How? Why? not time to think, must go …. She glances at herself in the mirror by the fireplace, and realizes, feels the weight upon her throat forgotten till now. “Damn, I’m not some stupid dog, let me be”. She pulls the leather collar off in haste, throws it into the ash filled fire place. “I do not approve….you hear me you bastards….”, stop the thought…must move…my virginity with…Shania don’t dwell, action…
Around the house pale red eyes watched implacably. Not getting too close, not interfering. If the girl were to go back into the town they would have fun again.... if she headed away... well, she would be back.... and they would have fun again it mattered naught to them. She would learn that the master got his way. And they, yes they would feed, already the desire for her echoed through empty ethereal bellies. There was a price to be paid for immortality, a price worth bearing once again now that she was here. The eyes followed her every move, hoping for the first time in many years an end to their emptiness, to drink once again of her essence and yes others as well, was it too much to hope for?
Clothes fly, nothing fancy, just quickly done, pulling on her snug fitting jeans and a loose blouse over the tank top ... not bothering to add a bra.... no time for that... no desire to once again bare her breasts to the eyes that surely lurked about, watching, waiting. Her hiking boots gone someplace back in that… that place she didn’t want to think about... so she pulls on her running shoes... nearly running to the kitchen.... an old plastic jug and a canteen.... pumping them full of the cool clean water and then sticking her head under the stream herself.... Her tummy growls soft with hunger but that can wait.... she has energy bars in her things and candy and some other things... grabbing it all up into a single suitcase... the sexy contents dumped over the carpet as she heads out towards the next town hundreds of miles away.
The shadows grouped together watching her head out towards the desert. There was a vague murmuring sound... discussion... regret.... or just the wind? The pale red eyes spread apart, pairs going off in different directions ... she would be back... and they were used to waiting…It was now the turn of the beasts, the master had decreed. Each would have his turn, for they all served the master in life and eternal death. There numbers greatly depleted over the years, all that are left are male, it will serve her right to run from him and into their paws.
Shania jogs down the road, the strap of the small suitcase cutting across her shoulder... chewing and swallowing a second energy bar, haste driving her hard. She pulls out a bar of candy to eat... her hunger pains ease as she watches the desert slowly pass by her. 4 hours by car down the bumpy gravel road, 80 maybe a 100 miles…several days on foot at best she concludes. Mental calculations keeping her mind off other subjects now recently made taboo.
Silent, invisible, shadows drift on the wind.... skirting the road...seeking and finding what they look for a couple of miles away... Conversation of a sort then, this time they will watch. The half men, half beasts have their orders, but this time their eyes gleam with renewed strength, for they to, will feed of the essence of the one....the shadows having failed. Yes, the one they have watched the last week for the master and hungered for more than the cattle that feed their physical belly.
Shania slows to a steady walk her stride smooth and fluid as her jeans darken along her thighs from her sweat... stopping she takes a slow drink of water as she looks around, regretting now not grabbing her other sunglasses in her rush to leave... the desert bright around her, the heat nearly smothering as the sun continues to climb into the sky.
A little further down the road, the beasts congregate, their own feral natures waiting for the opportunity to drink... feral red eyes watching and waiting, hoping to be given the opportunity.
Shania walks on... "Yes I thought I remembered a big old tree...there was a steam there ...what did the sheriff call it...oh yea 'Black Run' something about coming from that mountain back there" Stops at the tree, a big old oak (she thinks) and sets down under its shade....”god its hot” Is it best to travel at night?…no time, must go soon, Kicking off her shoes she slips her feet into the tiny creek, the water cooling her ... pulling out her jug she takes a long drink and sets it down, relaxing a few as she leans back her eyes closed. Adrenaline long played out, exhaustion racking her body, a body that has known nothing but exertion. Nothing has pursued her, perhaps this was all they had wanted, wanted her gone. Well they can call it success!
The large grey shapes slink out of the scrub across the stream, a hundred yards away, sitting and watching quietly.... maybe waiting... large grey wolves, six of them, bigger than average. At least that is what they appear to be. Tongues hang down in the heat, each of them panting to stay cool. Shania dozes a bit in the heat, loosing her blouse, the cool water playing over her feet and toes, the shade of the big tree comforting in the heat as the beasts move closer, looking menacing in the hot air, loping easily until they are a mere twenty yards from the other side of the stream, watching... waiting....Keen noses gather in her scent, while the twisted minds feel her essence in it. They smell the sex of a women, one that has been active recently, yet there is no man smell to her….strange that to their simple minds. The transformation years ago has left them less than they were. Still they understand the commands of the master and obey…for now….it has been too long since he has fed them, perhaps they should not share this one?
No, she will not escape them; time will tell what will become of her. It will be her decision in a macabre sort of way. Today they shall feed, satisfying a different type of hunger, a hunger long denied. They sit then, and drink in her curves, her feminine nature her lack of adequate clothing. They remember their own past and the women they have known….she is different….somehow…better.
Shania stretches tight and tender muscles as she sits up, arching her back, her full breasts straining the tank top beneath the open blouse, her nipples still a bit hard and tender, remembering the pain (and pleasure) of the fingers holding them. She senses something in the air, strong and male filled with desire, eyes watching her. Leaning forward to grab a shoe she sees the wolves and stops, her eyes big and green, white showing all the way around the pupil. They sit silently, looking back, making no move to get closer. They seem to be waiting patiently as Shania slips on her socks, careful to make no threatening moves, then her shoes. Shifting to a kneeling posture she fills the jug, all the time watching the six big wolves, her voice soft as she speaks calmly "Hello there.... my, you are some big ones aren’t you... I don’t mean anything ... now we aren’t gonna have a problem are we? I am just gonna walk on past down the road and you guys can go right on with your business ... ok"
The pretty young girl stands and slowly follows the road, working forward to cross the stream being careful not to show her teeth or really look in their eyes... or be threatening in any way. “So you the ones that have been watching me?”, she says, trying to keep the tension and fear from the sound of her voice as her heart pounds in her chest. Alive it says, how much longer the mind murmurs. Nothing happens until her first step into the water, the wolves stand, mouths back in a soundless snarl showing their wickedly sharp teeth. It is the signal they have been waiting for, their freedom to take what they want... bounding forward, they move in front of her, a semi-circle of large wild looking animals, each of which would be as tall as Shania if they stood upright, maybe bigger.... grey fur bristles upon their haunches and red eyes gleam with more than animal awareness. Green eyes go big as she sees the red gleam, sudden understanding that these are not ordinary wolves.... backing up a step, then another she shifts her suitcase and with her free hand pulls a still shiny knife out, the edge sharp "no…no ...I… I know you... like those things back in the town... you…you won’t take me again.... I… I warn you."
They snarl as if in reply, intelligence shines in those eyes as her panicked refection glides across their pupils. The wolves take their time, following as she backs up, keeping a short distance away, just out of the arc of her arm with its wicked blade clenched by the white knuckles of a hand. Two remain directly in front and two to each side, leaving backwards as the only free way to move. Red eyes flick from her face to her hand, looking around, calculating...desiring. Not ordinary wolves no, intelligence in that act. They all recognize the blade, the danger that it carries for them….does she understand the significance of it?
Shania steps back and back again, her head twisting back and forth trying to watch all six at once while holding the suitcase by its strap in her left hand and the knife in her right... "Please… please I don’t want to hurt you...I… I like animals... just let me past.... whatever you are just let me go. You had your fun.... I… I won’t tell anyone I swear.... who would believe me anyway?" One of the wolves snarls low in its throat... a reply... an animal challenge? Wolven heads turn; glances exchanged.... a series of barking sounds then an almost human nod of the head from one of them... With short rushes and retreats, the animals herd the girl backwards, out of the stream... then as she reaches the far bank, the one which had nodded springs straight for her.
Shania swings her suitcase, the strap breaking, never having been designed for this.... but still it is big enough and she with her frantic speed as it swings to meet the wolf’s spring succeeds in spite of all. The Wolf tumbles back into the stream. The other wolves make no move to close, keeping their positions as the suitcase tumbles to the ground, contents spewing forth... waiting while the chosen attacker regains its feet and springs again, mouth slavering, fangs bared for a slender throat. Shania times it perfectly.... ducking at the last and letting her free hand guide the wolf’s spring at the big tree.... rolling to the side, she raises the knife trembling now.... eyes wide in fear, yet clear and aware ...thinking fast.
Again the co-ordination of the assault that tells her these are not ordinary wolves. The others never losing discipline in a desperate charge but forming a loose circle now, the tree at her back as the chosen assailant recovers to spring once again. Shania takes a deep breath and stabs this time ...not holding back as she rams her free arm under its neck lifting its teeth away from her...again she STABS…She feels the agony of the creature, also feels desire, the sort no creature should posses. She trembles at the emotion flooding through her system. Eyes lock between them.
Something very knowing, very aware shines in the animal's eyes as its head is stopped inches from Shania’s face. It almost seems to wink at her as it twists it's long, lean body, taking the knife between it's ribs and twisting the blade from her hand as it's momentum carries it on... then the fire of intelligence disappears from the wolves eye and there is nothing but a dead animal.... the girl’s weapon trapped underneath it as smoke curls upwards from under its body as it seems to disintegrate right before her eyes. The remaining five begin to close with mocking expressions. Shania staggers back, her eyes flicking fast.... there… a long old tree branch.... a foot out of her reach.... a side step as she bends to grab the branch her eyes on the wolves. One disappears from her view, out of her range of vision as the others close, driving her away for the carcass now turned to ash, the gleam of silver glinting in the sun from under the remains.
The four wolves maintain a circle, backing her against the oak tree as they slowly close, one or another occasionally darting in and snarling, then retreating fast, keeping the girl moving, unbalanced, uneasy. Shania misses the branch as she backs against the tree. Crouched a bit her hands up and ready...she will fight...knowing the odds here are bad...very bad...the tree a strong presence an inch behind her, offering protection for her back. Two pale red orbs close from behind, the owner now standing on a pair of hairy legs... silently closing on the blonde from behind her field of vision.
With one hairy hand the creature to her back reaches out with tremendous speed and grabs a slender wrist. Shania twirls around in desperation trying to break the hold, creating a fist with her other hand and swings it ineffectually against the beasts chest in furious blows. Slowly the blows subsided in speed and strength as the initial adrenaline surge of fear wears off. Collapsing against the hairy chest her breaths coming in sobs she feels the thick hard phallus against her abdomen. Emotions flood her mind mixing with the events of the previous day; she faints, falling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
Wolves mill around the fallen girl’s body, sniffing the woman smell, licking areas of exposed flesh, their cold noses nuzzling intimately. Paws press down on her back as sharp fangs worry at clothing, ripping at the top. Hands pull off the brown leather belt, then unsnap the clasps of the jeans and roll the top over curvaceous hips. Biting and shredding close to soft flesh, breath hot on bared areas, the masculinity of these four animals becoming very apparent as they expose more of Shania’s pale skin. Jeans are pulled at, dragging the prone unresponding body into the water before they slide free. Water hits her face springing forth a soft moan, arms stirring. Slowly she pushes herself up, her blouse front falling forward and off, the back ripped completely asunder, collar and the arms cut through by the jagged teeth.... the tank top split at its back and its straps torn, clinging barely to her skin... As she slowly stands shaking her head, her jeans off, floating in patches down the creak, the last piece being pulled by two wolves in a real tug of war match, snarling at each other over bared fangs. The lacy panties remain whole as she watches a wolf shake its head playing with them and sniffing at her scent. None of this registers in the young girl’s turbulent mind as the water trails down her naked body in small rivulets.
Shania rolls over and begins to get up on hands and knees. She smells the musky masculine scent feels the call of her inner beast as it rumbles in her body, awakened to the others that circle her. The emotions cause her to sway a bit, her hands on her head, as she takes a step forward into the stream then falls to a knee with a splash. A moan escapes tight lips as the pain in her head resounds through her body. With a grunt she forces herself upright swaying as her eyes and mind try to focus.
The wolves form a tight circle around the small girl, heads up to her waist as they look up, sniffing and snarling, giving her no room to run. A large male stands to her front, looks down at her with red glowing eyes his well muscled frame covered across his back, chest and abdomen with at least a light sheen of hair. Tufts of hair hang long and shaggy from other areas of his body. The slight snout and large sharp teeth betray him as not totally human. He too snarls from deep in his throat, his large callused hands with their dirty dark fingernails come forward to place the circlet of leather about her throat as the master had decreed.
Shania looks to her front seeing the large muscled chest and arches backwards as she gasps at the eyes that met her own. Senses come alive, as she feels both mentally and physically the desire that emanates from this man thing and the wolves that lick at her flesh. Cold leather runs around her neck again, “please, no, not ….not a dog….I’m not a dog….”, she calls out”,……help me…please”.
The eyes soften slightly as if in answer and a large hand pulls her chin up to lock her eyes to his. Hot breath blows across her face then, a long tongue running across her lips, thrusting its way between them. Tongues meet within her mouth, too fast, too soon. She squirms backwards, feels the hand in the small of her back pull her close pinning her against his hot hairy body. Thoughts of horror movies run through her head, of ghosts and were wolves….not something you actually encounter, not real her mind screams, but the body knows differently. A heady musk permeates the air around her, pheromones igniting a fire deep inside; simple human chemistry going crazy…overriding her normal sanity, her normal actions, as she slips into a spell of molecular proteins. A part of her mind goes deep inside itself, watching the reaction and not really wanting to believe she could suddenly feel this way….not with beasts, not with the hot shaft against her abdomen and a course tongue driving itself into her mouth….Fear being replaced by desire all because of a few molecules.
Paws cross her shoulders, set upon her back. She feels the large hot shaggy animal to her back, its coarse tongue trailing across her skin, leaving behind long lines of wetness. Moving away from it only drives her harder against the toned and firm man to her front. While the two of them pin her between their shaggy bodies, the others rip at the remaining clothing with sharp teeth, scratching and grazing soft flesh occasionally as she moves about, stripping the slim girl quite effectively, shreds of clothing fluttering into the stream, slowly tumbling over small rocks and away, to never be seen again Noses nuzzle naked skin breath hot upon it. Soon only her shoes and socks remain, the scratches and cuts cause red lines all over her body except strangely on her full breasts and her firm ass, the slick thighs... whimpering in fear, she knows what is next now, mind grasping the predicament, the horror, the revulsion. She can’t stop it and it shames her. Her nipples are hard points against the fur of the wolf, her fear (and perhaps the feeling of helplessness) tightening them, her pussy lips puffy and tight yet moist from her fear.... her anus a pink virgin pucker. Her body’s response an even greater torment, ‘how did she ever become like this?’ She thinks to herself. Thrust and counterthrust as feelings change from panic and fear to something else…slowly…ever so slowly. The words tumble from her mouth and into the air, “why, why do I want this?”
Thrusting against the big man to her front, her hands trying to push him back, but not hard now, not fighting with all her strength...The long hot cocks, feeling more human than animal, touching her exposed back and her bare tummy she calls out one last time, "No…no god…not this”, eyes large and round as they see the large cocks about her, feel them pressed against her, “can’t…too big…too big for me, oh god no…..pleassseee not my ass". The creature to her front stops his actions and looks down at her, as if to challenge her…to wait until the moment she betrays herself and begs for his attentions. The nose before her sniffs long and hard wrinkles up and then the mouth smiles, as if knowing something that she is not even aware of herself. For a moment while her brain gains some clarity she can almost feel their feral desire for her. She shudders as the white teeth spread before her in an all knowing smile. Knowing what they can do to her tender skin, knowing that she will not become food for their body, but rather their soul. Finally realizing that she wants him, will take them all if she can have him….not ghosts, this is a man. ‘What is up with me?’, she questions, never understanding the chemistry and empathy that feeds her mind, and thereby feeds and awakens her body.
With her clothing out of the way and the own girls awakening sexuality apparent the beasts and wolves lose no time. The one behind Shania opens its mouth encircling her neck from behind, testament to its power, its control. In its own way it asks for her total submission. Even as her body and mind accept her fate, even as they go so far as to beg these creatures to enter her as her hips grind against them she knows that it is not she that would make the decision if they so choose. It is not her choice, but it is not one that the larger part of her would willingly turn away from. She wants them, accepts them in control. Only that small part of her hidden deep down loathes her submission and desire as the fangs threaten to pierce the arteries of her neck.
The wolf behind her keeps it's fangs pressed only lightly against her neck, she can’t help but know those fangs could sink through flesh like butter, rending... snapping her spine if she were lucky, tearing her body apart slowly if not. The half man, half beast up against her front lowers his head, a long pink tongue emerging from its half snout to lap slowly and roughly over firm breasts, rasping over the nipples. Then it's mouth stretches wide, taking a full breast inside, fangs pressing into softness… not very hard, just dimpling taut skin with pointed teeth as its long tongue swirls over the captured globe and flicks the hard nipple to full erection.
Shania moans from excitement, pleasure even, and immediately hates herself in spite the desire she feels for them. Deep inside fire wages war with ice, ice melting with each new sensation forcing it back further into the hidden spaces of her mind. Mind and body war with the sensations and what should be the reaction to them, her hands on either side of the man’s head trying to pull it back and off her taught nipple, a part of her not wanting it gone and pulling he head forward, burying it in her chest, excited and turned on by the raspy tongue that slithers over her sensitive flesh. The fire of the south, the desert flares within her even while the hot noon day sun smothers her in its oppressive heat, adding to that of the bodies she is sandwiched between, baking her as her own heat builds within. The nipple responds, grows, and thickens with each flick of the playful tongue ‘til it tightens the skin on her breast, so that the needle sharp fangs send shivers of pain inward from the breast to her core, still the pleasure builds. Knees grow weak from having to bear the weight of herself and the wolf that leans on her back and holds her neck, it own tongue pulsing against the taught and vulnerable flesh.
With fear, desire, and the heat, her head still aching in pain, muscles spasm and as if in sympathy to her plight the hand behind her tightens its hold, pulling weight from her feet as the man continues to play with her engorged nipple. Her movements to pull back from the continuing onslaught of her nipples by the beast does little but drag the tips of sharp fangs over swollen flesh, pain cascades dully through her mind, as couple of small trickles of blood to flow over pale skin, the beast lapping them and seeming to enjoy the salty taste as it transfers attention to the other breast, capturing it a bit harder, fangs pricking as the insidious tongue arouses her half erect nipple. She pushes on the body of the man/wolf to her front, the attempt is half hearted, the heat flaring in her belly and into her thighs tells a different story. Pain, pleasure, revulsion, and desire all mix in a chaotic stew. She feels what the desire of the wolves is, and she feels her own need to help them, sensing the desperation from deprivation that they have felt these long years. The last of the fight against the cascade of sensations ends as she fully welcomes their attentions. Empathy to them, their emotions becoming hers as feral instincts deeply hidden amongst civilized man came to the fore.
Shania shifts just slightly and gasps in pain that turns to pleasure. Gasp followed by moan, the beast and wolves pick up on the subtle cues, noises and ears more sensitive than a humans. Female pheromones cascade from her body in each droplet of sweat calling with their own sweet scent her desire to mate. Body still responding as her other nipple hardens too, her clit growing, engorging as it responds to something in her besides the fear and shame and loathing.... arched back by the wolf behind, its mouth drooling long slippery streaks of saliva down her body as it holds her slim pale neck in its sharp maw... the hot slobber sliding down between her breasts and slowly down her back to drip between her firm ass cheeks. She submits, closing her eyes and flowing in the sensations as they flow from every part of her body. Multiple tongues work at her flesh, each finding the sensitive flesh a delight to play with.
While the two upright bodies pin Shania between them, gripping her neck and worrying at her firm breasts, two others begin to nuzzle lower down, insinuating long snouts between her body and the upright animals. One noses into a firm ass, tongue lapping between the cheeks, rough surface moving up the cleft again and again, rasping over the knot of her tight anus. The other noses between partly open thighs, finding a soft cunt already half open and moist, as its tongue slides up into the slit.
"Godd …how…..How can this feeeelll soo gooood” her scream echoes over the dry desert land as she squirms to center the tongues more firmly upon her most sensitive flesh. The wolf’s hot wide tongue pressing and wiggling in her as she squeezes hard around it, her pussy hot, wet and strong. Whimpering and moaning, held by the wolves and strange men/beasts, afraid to move yet not wanting to end the sensations, her hands still half pushing away then pulling him towards her as he continues to play/bite and worry at her breast and aching hard nipple.... somewhere her mind is screaming, telling her to run, to fight.... but the teeth, the sharp teeth control her, and even more so her own desires and the pleasure she feels, anticipates, contrive to root her in place. Fear, a desire to live at any price, a desire, slowly from the depths of her mind rising unbidden, trying to tell her that even in this abomination pleasure could be had instead of the pain and death. ‘Noooo’, she screams at the other voice in her head chasing it away to hide till some later time. Snarls and bits down on the neck of the one to her front, tasting the salt of blood, lips curled back in a grimace of pure lust.
The fifth wolf rears up, almost overbalancing everyone as its paws land on the captured girl’s shoulders and its maw closes about her free breast, one abandoned earlier by the man/beast. Now there are four tongues, all concentrated on the most sensitive zones. The warmth within grows steadily, body slowly winning out over the half of her mind that still desires to fight. Each tongue guides a fire, building it, heat moving out in waves to engulf her. Both turgid nipples are being lapped at once, her anus tickled and the tongue over her labia flattening to reveal the erect clit, licking insidiously at the aroused bud. Shania moans and quivers, her knees nearly buckling as she orgasms, her clit sensitive and sending tingling through her entire body as she feels the heat of the mouths on her breasts flow through them, the baking fur of the wolves surrounding her... as her body responds with its own added heat. “AHHHH”, the sounds escape across her lips, as the first orgasm cascades through her body.
As one wolf laps Shania’s pussy, the man to her front brings himself upright before her. Loosening his grip she slides down wards on knees weakened with the exertion of her orgasm and the weight she bears across her back. Knees sink into the cool water as heavy firm breasts flow across tawny fur, mouth now inches from the up thrust and fully engorged cock. Hands strong and full grab at her blonde tresses gathering them up in their grip. She looks up into the eyes of the strange creature and knows what he desires, knows what he demands.
The man still upright before her crouches slightly, it's cock looking disproportionate and not at all wolf-like as it's blunt tip seeks her mouth. Hands guide her head as he pushes the shaft past trembling lips and into the moist soft wetness. He steps back one small step, controlling her head and forcing her forward, keeping him in her mouth. Weight shifts upon her back as the wolf now rests more fully upon its arch. She clings with both arms to the thrusting buttocks of the man/beast to her front. Keeping herself up as her head bobs upon his swollen shaft.
The wolf’s hard blunt shaft lodges itself against her wet hole, driving against it and forcing its way up into her tight little cunt. Each thrust of the wolf turns its head slightly as she feels the teeth tear at her throat. Sweat trickles down her nose and drops onto the shaft that moves within her mouth; each thrust from behind her driving her forwards, further up its shaft till her lips touch the base of it, and her throat is forced open. She gags then; strong hands pull her mouth back, allowing her to recover, breath once again. Even while the thrusting continues as inch by inch the hard shaft slowly works its way up her wet channel. Shania struggles now as breaths come in gasps, the shaft in her mouth filling it as it reaches the back of her throat, the sharp teeth digging into her throat drawing drops of blood as she slips slightly from the lost grip upon the creature to her front. The hot cock sliding into her tight hot pussy... gripping, squeezing, longer than any from yesterday... thicker, spreading wide painfully.... teasing clusters of nerves as it slides past...She tries to say something, her mouth filled and then she screams….pleasure wafting over her as her mouth hums about the shaft that resides their and her pussy vibrates around the other.
The controlling entity broods, watching the scene through the eyes of its followers. Each moan and gasp analyzed; each twitch and thrust given scrutiny. Excellent... an awakening sexuality that could hardly be bettered, a virgin like creature yet in experience, but such a readily aroused one... Now if something could be arranged to keep that arousal at a higher level all the time it would be so much easier...
The entity watches and thinks...
As the other wolves surround the girl tightly, playing at her swaying nipples. Both cocks spear deep, one stretching muscles healed by the mist of yesterday, spreading her tight cunt, thrusting deeper to bang against her cervix... the other bounces past tonsils then back out so she can breath…teaching her a rhythm. Shania whimpers in pain, even as other parts of her experience pleasure. The thick hot cock spreading her wider than she ever thought.... this was nothing like the romance novels she had devoured when she was younger.... nothing like a shining knight she had fantasized about...nothing like the boy she would wear the clothes packed away in her suitcase for, this was worse, far worse... yet she thrust her hips against the wolf, meeting its own thrust, driving it deeper as her hands gripped his flanks and pulled herself upon the other shaft that resided in her mouth. Finding the rhythm, using her own tongue for the first time, guiding and helping it ravish her body, her eyes glazing in the heat spreading once again from her sex, warming her belly and breasts, skin reddening with exertion and the flush of pleasure endured.
If the entity could smile, it would do so as it watches her response. She is willingly taking both, no longer just a spectator to her own body, but participating, working to bring pleasure to others all the while finding her own in the actions.
Behind Shania, the wolf gripping her neck shifts position and opens its mouth, freeing her neck at long last. She feels the cock expand within her, stretching her even further as if a knot travels along its shaft….then the wolf howls, long and hard as she feels the spurting seed fill her, creating even more wetness within her. The cry is one of joy; the others stop working at her for a moment and join in, a celebration of sorts. Emotions cascade within her in empathy to the creature’s response, she orgasms yet again, the trembling of her lips, mouth and throat enough to cause the man/beast to her front to cum as well. She gags once again as hot seed spills forth from her mouth and down her chin, coughing and sputtering around the shaft as he waits silently. Waits then till she recovers and looks at him with wide green eyes. He gives a simple nod then and guides, with his hands still wrapped in her hair, her mouth back to his erect dick. Mouth is guided by him against the erect shaft’s surface; she licks with her less agile tongue, cleaning it, removing all the cum from him.
He sinks to his knees before her, allowing her to fall forward, hands now in the water. As she finishes cleaning him, cum dribbles from between her legs, stands upon her heaving breasts, rests upon her chin. Watches in fascination as another of the creatures transforms before her very eyes, assuming a man shape to more readily accommodate the master’s wishes.
The new man beast lies back in the stream and pulls her to him. She accommodates his surging need by crawling over him and impaling herself upon his rigid upright shaft. Another wolf moves behind her then and nuzzles her with no response to its own desires as she drives herself hard downwards, feeling the man’s fullness rammed inside her to his full length in one animalistic thrust. Breaths come in hard gasps, eyes unfocused in pleasure while working the penis within. “go , take me …you ..know …fuck my assss….pleaasee”. The wolf behind smiles in a feral grimace upon hearing the words, the abandonment of her previous statements.
There is a shift, sexual energies flow in discordant directions, converging back again on the young girl, the beasts feel it, are drawn into its web, not sure who is feeding on whom anymore. It does not matter anyway; the hunger is too great, the time too long. They converge in a feeding frenzy of lust. Voices rise in the afternoon sun, a song of joy, of satisfaction, knowing that she will outlast them all.
The wolf behind will wait no longer and jumps upwards, front paws on her shoulders knocking her forwards onto the man, her heavy breasts with their sensitive nipples moving against fur covered skin. The wolven cock seems far too big for its body, at least a foot long and almost three inches at its widest. It seeks her anal bud….It's long hot cock sliding down the cleft between her small buttocks, its sensitive tip finding the ridged whorl of her anus and pushing against the tight muscle, forcing it to give as the cock head sinks slowly into her tense young ass. Shania’s eyes snap wide open in shock, holding still because of the hands wrapped tightly in her hair, quivering in pain as her virgin ass is forced apart, gripping and quivering, the cock within her still sliding in and out even while she goes rigid and stops her own movement.
Pushing deep from under her he rubs her hot enlarged clit as he simply looks her in the eyes reading all that passes within them.... With a hard thrust from behind, the wolf sends it's cock powering deep into her ass, past the tight muscle ring opened by it's blunt cock-head as it takes the narrow channel with it's thick shaft, while hot rough tongues play over her nipples and hot shaggy bodies press against soft flesh. Shania cries out then, rolling her hips imprisoned by the man’s shaft and arms, as she tries to get away from this new assault she had just moments before begged for. Muscles spread slowly, inexorably as the large shaft penetrates passed the outer hole and works its way deeper.
As she cries out the final wolf lunges forwards and plugs the hole with his cock driving it into her mouth passed guarding teeth and rolling tongue. Three cocks work her as one, each filling her, and with each she begins to again find pleasure, becoming one with all of them…a center of pleasure, used and using the creatures that surround her…heat…from the sun, the bodies and her own inner needs rises, threatening to overpower her in its stifling embrace.
Shania moans in joy around the cock within her mouth, a plaintive gurgling sound, as the cocks stretch her fully.... moving and pressing against the membrane that separates her ass and her pussy ...forcing and pulling, a tingling in her that makes the scream end in a ragged moan as she cums hard, her ass and pussy gripping, quivering, squeezing and teasing, dancing along the thick wolf cocks and the man beasts as well... somewhere her mind floats shuddering as her body shudders, utterly aroused by this.... unable to comprehend why or how she could enjoy this.... this perversion…or so sings that small detached part of her mind.... yet the helpless abandon of it.... her mind floats wrestling in thought her body responding as if this was an everyday occurrence to make love to wolves and beasts, …no less three at a time.
All three cocks impale the slender girl fully, almost lifting her off her knees and hands between the strong wolven bodies. Then they begin to move, not co-coordinated, sliding against each other through the thin membrane, and slipping over tightly stretched inner walls, fucking her cunt and ass with hard jerking thrusts. Shania whimpers as her hands now grip the flanks of the man/wolf and help drive it into her.... her knees sliding a bit farther apart, the weight of the wolf on her back, and the continuous exertion taking there toll. Slowly she is forced down....onto the body beneath her, her whole body slipping and sliding over his, all her skin tickled by the short furry hairs of his torso. The stream cool as it flows over her feet, lower leg and knees.... her eyes tearing in joy as the cocks drive in and out hard.
The entity watches in satisfaction as his minions impale the slim delicate-looking girl between them. For one so inexperienced, she was taking the violation very well, body overriding her mental reserve, an excellent potential slave and one that should last a long time, even when used hard…He was delighted…
The beast under her, his cock gripped by both cunt and cervix loses control, hot sperm jetting up into the girl’s womb as it cums, crying out in shear joy then bringing teeth to her breast and biting hard, breaking the skin in it's orgasmic loss of control. The wolf behind her still savagely pistons his mighty cock into her tight ass. Shania rocks with the thrusts, the wolf pressing down, her hands wide, holding her as she spreads her knees wide and lifts her ass, meeting the thrusts, whimpering in pain, yet feeling the pleasure, blood dripping from many small cuts and bites to swirl away in the stream... the glaring sun beating down now.... the land about strangely quiet save for the soft slaps of the wolf against her ass and her own grunts of exertion.
The one that pumps into her mouth continues, as her head rolls sideways onto the chest of the creature beneath her. She bears down on his dick, sucking in hard as he pulls out, lips and tongue playing with the flesh, trying to keep him inside with total lack of technique.
Somewhere the entity watches Shania’s acceptance, the way her sexual desires override what should be a horrifying experience, not just raped but also raped by wild animals. And not just accepting, but responding, taking what they do to her and climaxing hard, over and over. A suitable tool indeed for the entity.... but not quite yet…
The wolf crouches low over her outstretched body, hot breath on her neck, front paws pinning slim shoulders down, as its large cock pumps jerkily into a painfully stretched ass. While another two lope about, waiting their next turn, its prick swells thicker, spreading her anus more as it snarls, biting into a shoulder as it climaxes, hot streams of cum flooding the tiny body. Shania cries in pain… in pleasure as the hot cum fills her bowels ... more dripping from her pussy, past the half engorged cock that still resides trapped by her own tightness.
Her blood feeds the water of the hungry little stream as it cools her hot feet and hands, the last wolf spasms within her mouth, the second of the day…cum spews for it to join mix with the previous beasts and be carried off by the water. She gasps as the cocks all slide from her. Rolls her wide hips in the air, seeking yet another cock to pleasure her fire in a desire to have herself filled yet again. Muscles in her arms buckle, falling forward on elbows, her hot breasts now dipping into the cool water. It only serves to make her nipples ache staying hard and taunt.... small fists pound the water....The wolf no longer holds her neck, and yet she does not move, only awaits with full anticipation the next, surely they will all use her, and she will inexplicably allow them too and enjoy it. Perhaps more than anything this is what tears at the fabric of her sanity. The sex gave her a sense of strength, power, that these things need her and want her for what her body can provide them.
The wolves are only too happy to oblige their young play thing; they toy with her, licking and nipping at her flesh. Till another takes it's place, a hard rigid tool stabbing eagerly between her legs, indifferent to which hole it finds, just wanting some of that tight slippery heat inside the slim body, spearing deep.... the cunt as it happens... using her body urgently, claws scrabbling on the sweaty back as it rides her hard...Shania responds to its desire, feeling the heat inside her build to yet another climax, wanting and needing the creatures, mind crying out in horror at this wonton need.
The pulsing of her body around the imbedded shaft is too much for the feral creatures that fuck her, more quickly do they succumb with each orgasm that washes over her contorted frame. With a mighty howl the creatures lets loose, coming within her. She gasps as the wet sticky cum rolls down her leg swallowing hard to regain her breathing rhythm and to await the next. The heat within her does not dissipate, instead it grows stronger she wants more now….wants them fully…pulls on the shafts as they go flaccid within the holes they have so recently pounded. Pulls with muscles clenched about them as they withdraw from her. Her eyes resemble theirs, feral in nature, dangerous if not given what they need. The wolves respect her then, an alpha female, one that belongs to the master, but is willing to participate in this act with them….the master goads them on…all is ok.
Shania arches up her response weaker, the heat sapping her energy, the cuts and pains clouding her mind, the pleasure... somewhere in her the pleasure of the hard cock makes her tingle... on its fourth hard thrust she lifts her head and moans deep, cumming... pussy squeezing hard, clenching the cock as it quivers and spasms then relaxes it’s grip… the next wolf doesn't last too long, Shania’s spasming pussy milking it's seed to add to the previous occupant's. Then another takes her, then the last … how many times… how many loads of cum fill her pussy or anus? Enough to leave Shania wringing with sweat and trembling with post-orgasmic weakness....She crawls just far enough to rest her head upon a rock, getting it out of the stream. There she stops, lying in the cool water, letting it wash away some of the cum that drips from every orifice…totally spent, the feral look fading from her eyes.
At last the session is over. The wolves circle once more around the prone body, licking it with long tongues to gain one last taste of her…something to remember till the next time. Paws scramble across the wet stones of the creek, sending water flying, and return to the other side of the stream, sitting quietly and watching her.... will she try to leave the town again? Or has she learned the penalty for attempting to escape? It matters naught to them, either way they will have her again, sooner or later. The red eyes glow more brightly, satiated for now, but looking forward to another chance.
Shania lays in the stream moaning, the cool water playing around her abused body as her eyes open, seeing the wolves spread out on the side of the stream, one in the road blocking her way... her mind struggles, then like a sharp beam of light it dawns on her they won’t let her leave... It wont let her leave.... she is smart.... even during her ordeal part her mind thought.... it was clear there was one mind behind this... in a way that she didn’t yet understand. Her mind struggles clear... in a way it was easier knowing only one was behind all this... one she could out think.... not many.... still she curled into a ball, the sun shining down on her as her tender pussy and ass dribble cum, her nipples still long and hard... whimpering as she rested and tried to think.
The entity watches the diminutive figure resting, waiting to see if she will head back to town, if she is smart enough. Then switching attention, causing a watching and invisible shadow, to approach quietly and release a cold, sparkling breath that envelops her body and begins the healing process.
Shania shivers and her eyes widen as she feels her body tingle and itch.... sitting up slowly she sees her cuts heal, the bites fade as if the ocean was washing over marks in the sand, even the redness from the sun fades leaving her flesh pale and smooth... lifting her head she screams out “DAMN YOU DAMN YOU WHY WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME!!!” Nothing but silence answers the curses, unless there is an edge to the sharp, hot desert breeze, a flat inhuman chuckle and a murmur that could be no more than the rustling of dry grasses... because you're here...
Softer this time…not sure her ears have deceived her…”Why do I enjoy it….why…”, She hits the water wither tiny fists, cool spray erupts from under them, showering her with small droplets, and then a single tear rolls down her face. Can something that feels so good be so bad….”am I bad,” she calls out….”mom…am I really bad to enjoy this, to want a man inside me?”.
Shania staggers to her feet still wearing her shoes and socks both soaking wet.... moving the soaked suitcase, she rips it open to devour several pop tarts and three energy bars...all her supply nearly gone... she gathers up what she can , finds the knife and glaring at the beasts from across the stream points at them. Downing several aspirin she takes a long drink of water and picking up her suit case and canteen and with a contemptuous whirl of her hair she heads back to the old town hips swaggering suggestively until the wolves are out of sight. Damn them, DAMN HIM, she thinks, they think they can do whatever, there will be another chance, she will find it. Until then, she shudders, realizing what it may cost her before she escapes, beginning to wonder if she will even wants too, the feelings that intense within her.
He smiles to himself, yet another set of clothing gone, she would walk for miles now, bare assed, the wind caressing her smooth silky skin. Yes he could see to that, a constant light caress. A constant state of arousal…. till I find a better way…..
The breeze feels good, cooling, yet it is almost like the light caresses of unseen hands as she walks, her nipples, riding high and firm upon her breasts stay ridged and the breeze seems to play across their sensitive surface. It is not a normal breeze she realizes as the air moves down the crack of her ass. A light touch plays across her still semi swollen clit, like the breath of the wolves, she shudders. Will it ever quite?
“Stop you asshole….this is not what I want….really.” She sticks out her tongue before continuing; sure now he sees all and hears all she does. “Please just leave me alone, give me some time to think….”, then very softly, almost a whisper, “god why do I still want to fuck.”
Smiles at her spunk, but even more so the last words she utters…carried by the breeze he has created for her…carried to his ears. She must be the one!
Pale red eyes watch the return, eagerly devouring her slender naked body...moving from the high full breasts to the shaved slit; the small buttocks rolling suggestively even at a normal walking pace... Shania staggers and sways... still weak even if her wounds had been healed... finally, slowly, she climbs the stairs to the old house, the sun low in the sky and her whole body now red from its touch on her way back... Almost falling onto the couch she barely has the strength to pull off her shoes and socks.... dirty.... dusty, cum dried on her thighs, her hair tangled and entwined with twigs and dirt, she fades into a fitful sleep.

Ghost Town
Day 8 Monday
Gunslinger

While Shania sleeps, the entity moves over the town, wakeful, thoughts passing through its mind slowly, turning over the events of the last days. After more than 100 years of waiting, it could afford to be slow, thorough. The girl seems to be a natural. Whatever her mind thought about it, her body needed to be used, filled, but never was it forced to respond, ah that it did on its own, he recalls the feral eyes upon her face that shone that need. It was that weakness would lead to her inevitable defeat, her slavery. But care must be taken. The finest tool could break with incorrect use. Better to be slow, sure.... Her outburst suggested that she believed a single being was against her. Smart, this one is all the more reason to be careful. How strong was her will to live? It seemed solid; she had maintained her balance in spite cumming as the two beasts took her at once. She must not be allowed to escape, either physically or by killing herself. And his minions must not be allowed to use her too roughly. Luckily she didn't realize that or it would make her more difficult. He sent the minions to the house, to all the buildings, gathering up the knives and sharp objects. No it never hurt to be careful. What she needed he would provide. Tonight it was sleep.
Shania sleeps deeply her body's weakness overriding her racing mind ‘til both lay calm. The chill of the night did little to disturb her save harden her nipples... nipples that never fully relaxed but had stayed aroused even now hours later....The blanket later tucked about her still form, The collar that marks her his added once again in total patience. The movements within the house as the master’s servants cataloged all her worldly possessions did nothing to disturb her. When she awoke her world would be orderly, simple again.
With a start she sits up, the morning sun pouring in the window, warmth bathing her face, not letting her remain asleep. Franticly the green eyes pour over the room, trying to find the telltale signs of those that watch…feels their eyes upon her. Heart races ready to flee before her mind can take over and start the calming process. Think….think of a way, a way to avoid the conditions of the last two days. Hair frazzled, body stinking from its own perspiration. “God I feel dirty,” she glances down, the last flakes of cum still dried to her skin. “Got to get a bath.”
Feels then the collar about her neck, and once again removes it, face contorted with anger…flinging it into the fireplace “damn you….I told you I’m not your dog….get it through your thick skull!” Angrily she stomps about the room, “I’ll get rid of the thing one way or another” Moving to the kitchen and gathering up some of the gas and matches for the little gas stove….stomping back to the fire place like a five year old brat that’s favorite toy has been taken away. “I’ll show you….you pompous little ass kisser”, looking within the fireplace for the leather strap…ashes fly, hands and arms black with soot as she digs through the debris from numerous fires. The fury abates, slowing her movement till she is still.
Sitting then before the fireplace, naked sweat covered skin glistening in the morning sun, streaked with soot and ash from her frantic search she begins to softly cry…”you asshole…ahhhh….won’t even let me have my way…..next time you wait…next time its gone.” Almost sits in the position of submission, back on heals, legs spread at the knees though not knowing the significance as her anger seeps away into despair…. Despair at who and what she was or had become.
His mind screamed to break the blonde one, to have her submissive form before him… yet… He liked the spunk she showed, as alien as it was to him…that it was tantamount to open rebellion in a slave and was therefore not allowed under penalty of death…well, maybe he was getting weak…or maybe he just wanted a small spark to remain so that it could slowly build again just so he could wipe it out of her over and over in an endless game. His people would never follow one that showed such weakness for a leader…but then they were a dying race, needing rescue, none of his people were here, perhaps none lived.
Rebellion was expected amongst ones followers and guarded against by those that would remain strong.…even the shadows and Wolven that he had influenced would and could. It kept the race strong, allowing only the strongest to pass on their immortal seed. He sensed the rebellion in the Wolven already…one wanted to be the Alpha, the others following its lead. Wolven had seen her as alpha, seen her as a suitable mate, that too was new.
He had finally begun to feed again through his flock. It felt good and for once he was gaining energy not just losing it. She was a veritable feast, one that would surely provide satisfaction for him. Ah, would be good…yes.
Thought formed patterns in a mind that was not human….could this be the answer to the prophesy, this one that would be tamed, but perhaps never really conquered….a battle of wills that… Anathema to his kind…intriguing in its vileness, to touch the cusp of chaos….Shania, the word floated before him….he would have to change her name….slaves did not get to keep theirs, even if they were part of an ancient prophesy..
He watched her again, a new look was needed, answers to questions that should not perplex him so….timeless as he might be age must be getting to him, that and this strange race of beings that he and his kind enslaved for their use…
Gathering up some clothes she thought of how to tempt fate. Perhaps the dirt could be worked in her favor, she shuddered at the thought of not being clean, but everything was about being clean with this one…the one that ran things. The fireplace was as good as any to start with; perhaps he would think her mad and let her be….a plan of sorts began to form in her mind. Scampering about on the floor gathering up the ashes….then rolling in the mess….hair, face, and body streaked with ashes, black and grey stripes about her body till the pale skin had all but disappeared….she swatted at the remains with her skirt and shirt, sending puffs of ash into the air….Laughing aloud like a demented idiot. Haphazardly she puts on the skirt and blouse, making sure that they did little to make her appealing. ‘you want insane and broken …I give you insane and unstable…’, Shania thought to herself, ‘naked would have worked better, but then he seemed to want her that way and the spirit in her was going to not give him a thing he may want’.
A meal then….she was hungry enough. Rummaging in the kitchen....she devours a can of tuna with her fingers, smearing the fish scent upon her legs and cloths when she finishes. Next ... the jars of fruit.... she tips the jar back above her open mouth, the juice flowing over her lips and down her chin just like the cum the day before had. She wipes the back of a hand against her mouth and then across the skirt…crackers finish the meal.... finally a little burp of fullness parts her pale grey lips.
Pale red eyes watch through the windows but make no attempt to interfere, just watching hungrily, every move, and every hint of flesh. For those coherent enough they question the masters wisdom….perhaps he has pushed too hard …too fast once again…others have been lost to this madness…others many times before.
The entity watches through others eyes, seeing the Grayness… the lack of color return to cheeks, but there…there in the eyes….the strength returns to green eyes, the game had begun…..he moved yet another piece…
Slowly she sips on a glass of water then turns to stare fully into a pair of the red eyes for a heartbeat, then a second... then her eyes narrow, the green pupils swirling in the light as she stands, sticks out her tongue and stomps from the kitchen into the other room. There before her sits her soap, shampoo and a towel….hint of a bath that awaits her elsewhere. She shudders, “Damn you, I will not ….be your entertainment”. Then her eyes take in the leather collar curled around the bottom of the shampoo bottle. Anger flairs, face going red as she reaches out and picks it up, arm comes up as the band is thrown with all the force she can muster out through the open door into the street beyond. “bastard”, she yells.
Shania feels the dried cum, ashes, and filth upon her skin, sees through the trap the other has setup yet almost stops, cleanliness coming close to derailing her from her need to escape, to find a weapon and run. Slipping on her damp running shoes she begins a complete search of the house.
Finally upstairs, rummaging in the old closet she finds pay dirt. Under the rotting blankets and drapes sits the big heavy shotgun....Alright, old fashioned Remington side by side double barrel 12 gauge, thankful now that dad had spent the time to teach her to hunt. Slides the lever sideways and hears the distinctive click as she opens the back of the gun, “damn”, empty though, “have to be some shells around”, starts the search the gun cradled under her arm, open and ready.
Three hours had passed in her search... three long hours as she thought about what happened. Without realizing it her nipples have hardened and her pussy has moistened... The thoughts of yesterdays sex beginning to work on her libido making her horny all over. “what is wrong with you girl…it wasn’t like you really enjoyed it….ok I did, but god I don’t want to go through it all again…I want it on my terms not somebody else’s”. work at the task at hand she thinks as she reaches in again and drags out an old box…opens it.... shotgun shells and something more… her hands trembled as she lifts the faded diary... an old black and white picture falling out of a smiling young woman... by a sign that said "Black Run, writing on the back… “1903”....was this a relative?
Shania gingerly opens the book and begins to read the yellowing dried and crackling pages…Carefully she turns each of the brittle pages to reveal the handwriting; spidery and faded but still easily read. Turning page after page, the young girl feels a dreadful horror descending on her, even as her nipples harden in sympathy... or in lust... The town was dying fast. Ever since That Night things had gone from bad to worse. The marks upon the doors of those that had fallen doing nothing to keep them away even in death. The preacher was the first to succumb, his body found swinging from the churches bell rope.
But it was the personal experiences of the then young woman that had the most effect... Shania pursed her lips... the experiences mirrored her own to some extent... The words chillingly familiar:
They came today, while I worked the back room of our general store. I felt the breeze first, enjoying its cool embrace…twas not an ordinary breeze I was soon to discover as the caress grew stronger and more decadent. I pray to god to forgive me now…I wanted its caress upon my skin, felt it as the fingers grew from it and I saw them for the first time. My breath caught in my throat and my heart beat faster beneath my bosom as the hands closed upon my most private of places….was it wrong that these hands gave me greater pleasure, pleasure I have never felt from my husband who is a good and kind man. I felt things deep inside I have never felt before as they took me like a normal man, yet unlike them. Even the crying of little Joshua did not stop either them or myself….I split my legs for them, how many I cannot tell. Now guilt consumes my soul…how do I tell my husband…how do I go on?
The stories continued…the invisible assailants sneaking around, solid enough when they cornered her in back of the grocery store she helped out in.... all too solid as they held her bent over a barrel and took her again and again until she could barely walk... and other experiences, almost unbelievable.... furniture that came to life, farm animals with red glowing eyes... being taken again and again, until she felt she would go mad.... then the final entry.... a letter slipped under her door... instructions.... go to the old mine if you want it all to stop, or suffer a lifetime of being taken daily, each time they took her she had wanted them only to regret it later as she guiltily thought about her husband and their young children….finally blank pages…and nothing more... just some blank pages…
Had she gone to the mine….Shania eyes are wide as she screams..."DAMN youuuu what did she do tooo you, oh god what did you do to her, she had a kid….damn you…. She was my great grandmother, and … and I never knew, knew her, about her, damn it, DAMN you “
Tries to remember some of the family history….Grandfather had been born around the turn of the century…probably after this picture….married late in life. Mother had been born as his last child, and she too had been born as a last child, when you looked at the face of it, she was probably one of those late in life mistakes, having come a good 10 years after her only brother. Why was her life going through the same hell as her late grandmother? Her own diary pointed to the many similarities between them. This telling was enough; she had to get out of her…before one of two possible fates befell her. Would she die as her grandmother, or would she grow to accept what she had become and welcome them without a fight from the very beginning, neither appealed to her, it was time to run….just one thing to do on her way out of town…. .
The young girl stands with a purpose, loading the shotgun and pocketing the shells... Looks one last time at the photo and tucks it into the belt pouch, to be remembered and cherished. She strides downstairs, all pretenses of acting insane gone, some might say she is...Quickly, her last three energy bars tucked into a belt pouch and the canteen slung over her shoulder she storms down the road at a fast walk the shotgun ready.
The entity absorbed the pages of the diary as it was read, somehow overlooked all these years.... so that was why the old man refused to go, her offspring... his seemingly aimless pottering about was no doubt an attempt to discover something useful....Joshua had disappeared and never returned….Could she be Joshua’s offspring?….
And the girl....oh, how well it remembered her.... almost perfect for it’s needs, but just too weak at the final stage….perhaps the guilt too strong...never considered that into his equations.... no wonder this new one was so susceptible... the same blood flowed through their veins.... the same lusts fired their loins... and this time there would be no mistake…
Fate had been to kind…but what of the other blood that formed her lineage…could it be….could she be the one, by blood, blood that would bring forth the new age? No, she must not be broken entirely, bent to his will yes, used to become stronger by his minions so that she would be able to stand by his side public…and lay under him so as to pleasure him in private.
The old cemetery is overgrown by the tumble weeds that line what remain of the wrought iron fence that once encircled the small plot outside the church. The gravestones yield their secrets one at a time, the battered remains still readable in most cases. Finally the inscription she has been looking for, a double plot, many years however separating the two dates of death upon them. The date she seeks says 1888 - 1908…so young to have died, and already with two young boys. One would be her grandfather, the other the old man that had welcomed her to this place and died before she ever got here. Married at fifteen, the age she was in the photo, pregnant with her grandfather not long after….. Respects are said, along with a small prayer and Shania bids farewell, knowing that this will be the last time she will ever see this grave.
Moving at a ground eating jog, it doesn’t take long to reach the stream with its crossing, her mind ablaze with anger yet not thinking clearly as she strides forward raising the shotgun. But the sight over the stream is enough to give anyone pause. Instead of the five wolves there yesterday there must be over fifty of them, milling about, watching; the redness visible in eyes even from this distance.... Would she risk it? Killing five... a dozen.... knowing the others would be upon her.... knowing what they would do to her, one after another....
He smiles at her dilemma as the illusion is maintained…if only for her benefit, it confirms that she is susceptible, susceptible to believe that which she cannot understand but that she has experienced in some smaller way.
Shania stops frozen...her eyes wide in disbelief.... all males.... all bigger then they should be.... impossible there can’t be that many wolves in the state.... turning upstream thinking the road had curved that way on the other side she begins to follow, careful to stay out of the stream. Unaccountably her nipples had hardened under the stares of the 50 pairs of red glowing eyes as they all turned to look at her.... hungry... full of lust… the scent of 50 rampant animals heavy in the still air. A scent that assails her nostrils and drives home the depth of their maleness…she did not come her to be gang banged…she turns, trying to find a path that they will not be covering, even as the scent heats her body from the inside as the sun heats her from the outside.
The wolves move easily, keeping pace until a spur of the mountain hides everything beyond the far side of the stream, its smooth walls impassable. Ahead the spur provides shade and there is a sense of moisture, thicker, greener vegetation and a tinkling sound. The large cotton woods provide shade form the overbearing sun, she stops a moment in their depths and fans herself as the seat pours from her body and continues to soak her shirt and skirt. She moves on, following the stream as it deepens a bit maybe a foot deep now the twinkle of yellow.... maybe gold.... in its bed.... pushing her way deeper into the area, the sheer walls raising up just 20 feet away on the other side of the stream.
The entity stirs slightly, the girl coming closer...not near the old mine, but tangibly closer to the heart of it all. A second time…oh the desire is there, but thought, clear thought that this is too soon and that she is not yet ready.
Shania comes to the small gap in the cliff wall, the spill of water from out of the ‘rock only a foot or so across but falling like a fine spray in the air...the pool below maybe 20 feet across and feeding the stream.... a soft sand twinkling with flecks of yellow fills the bottom of the pool. Despite everything, the young girl stops and sighs at the beautiful grotto, the cliff curving farther along beyond a tumble of rocks making it impossible to go farther that way... looking all around she slowly steps into the pool, the water seeping up the skirt and darkening it to her knees... A serene peace falls over her, the water sparkles in the sun, the large trees providing shade to rest in. Birds fly amongst the branches twittering to one another. It is like a place out of a fairytale, strange this paradise in the midst of the desert. Slowly she turns, walking, waiting, her body itching and sticky...finally she moves to the edge by the falls and sets down the gun.
The entity is aware of the girl, watching her as she explores, an idea spreading, a new development and a new display of his power over this entire area…
Shania undresses slowly watching... stopping, waiting, her mind taking in everything.... but Shania had always been a clean girl she couldn’t stand how her body felt.... the stickiness between her thighs... the dirt.... the smears of her blood.... "Ok it looks safe enough and I gotta clean up” she says aloud and to herself. The insanity having failed the moment she read the diary, knew he’d been watching and was probably wise to her plans. The wolves no longer prowled in the area, she could only hope that this path had taken her away form their domain….time would tell, until then she needed to stay alert and ever vigilant even with her own bath.
Finishing undressing, she steps over to some plants.... "Lucky I paid attention in class... this is what the Indians used to clean themselves. Its sap should make a lather that will work... I hope." Grabbing several handfuls she walks back under the cold water of the falls, her nipples instantly hard as she begins to clean herself, using the plants sap to scrub into a lather that covers her small body, filling the area with a soft scent.

The entity watches the naked girl thinking her body looks too narrow to take him when the time comes, knowing that it will, if it can be trained right...knowing by now that those soft curves hide a tough resilience that goes beyond the physical. There is something more to her, something strong and powerful beneath the smooth flesh. Yes, should have looked into that, looking through the red eyes that watch her now, taking over and examining the aura that flows about her.
As he watches the power surge about her the hues and shape constantly shifting. Has he underestimated the mere human? Amazed at what he finds there, such strength and power, could she be the southern anchor of the cardinal directions? The power of heat and sun flowed about her. Could she be the first, anchor of the four? Bloodlines…maybe
Shania twists and turns under the falls letting the cold water splash as she washes out the mess from long hair that barely darkens in the water... finally she stands there, shivering as she leans back, letting the cold spray play over her succulent body. The heat of the sun finally held at bay by the water.
The entity concentrates on a creeping plant that grows beside the falls, causing it to inch out, taking the shotgun in its viney grip and dragging it slowly away.
Shania steps out of the falls shivering, picking up her skirt and rubbing her arms, the hot dry air starting to dry her sun burnt body as soon as she steps from the water. Goose bumps roll down naked flesh as the water evaporates quickly causing a chill to run across her flesh, and then feels something, something close at hand.
The figure that steps out of the trees hardly wavers at all, looks very solid in fact... and also very clichéd. A stereotypical gunfighter from 100 years before, dark clothing trimmed with silver accents, low slung gun on the left hip, western hat pulled low to shade the eyes which still manage to glow red.... and the shotgun, the girl’s own shotgun, held in the right hand, pointing at her. Shania freezes there, her nipples hard from the cool water that cascades over her body, eyes wide as she stares at twin barrels that look huge to her, "who… who are you" Shania raises her hands as she gulps.
The entity watches as the figure he created, call it a three dimensional hologram that has solidity, moves closer. But like a moving statue, it has no working parts inside; no throat to make sounds with, nothing beneath the clothes even, the outer skin is just that, what you see is what you get. It is an illusion of sorts, one with substance not unlike what the shadows are able to do, yet not as capable. A mere extension of his will…he wonders if she will feel him through this figure, a chance to learn something more of her strengths…
It has taken time to put together this demonstration of his power, even shadows take time to move, to gather the items and deliver them as his figure begins the task at hand.
The figure moves closer, until the shotgun is pressing lightly into her belly.... red eyes meeting hers without any trace of humanity, then sweeping down over the trim body as threatening barrels press close, forcing her into stepping backwards, gasping, her green eye wide in real fear, the cold barrels of the shotgun against her ... her nipples hardening more with the fear, swaying as her breasts bounce gently with each backward step until she is pressed against the rough stone wall, sharp places pressing against her back and thighs… "Please don’t kill me… I… I don’t want to die".
While the shotgun dimples Shania’s soft belly, the gunfighter's left hand reaches out, taking her right wrist and moving it until the hand is behind her head, then doing the same with the left wrist. A prod with the gun warns not to move as the hand reaches to her face, tracing full lips almost gently, then stroking lower, fingers encased in the inevitable black leather gloves molding the firm swell of her right breast. "No… no please” The gloved hand stops, the eyes look into hers as if to measure the response.
“oh god no”, feels the swelling of heat within her core, down low, begging for the hand to continue to stock the flames of passion within her. The beast buried deep within her quivers and rises against the gloved hand upon her breast, touching the phantoms power with its own in a cavalcade of energy. Pulsing through her then, she realizes that she is lost, will do anything to satisfy the rising lust that fills her loins. In submission to the needs of her body she moves her chest against the gloved hand, twisting to rub it against the being that stands before her. The hand moves then and cups the breast. She holds still as the leather hand massages her right breast, raising a tiny bit on her toes as her feet spread to brace herself better for the future onslaught that she knows that she will welcome with open legs….her own feelings scare her more than the black clad man that now stands before her.
The long fingers press into taut skin, circling the firm globe, moving it slightly, stroking over the tip-tilted nipple, then abruptly grasping soft flesh in a tight grip, squeezing a handful of the large breast while emotionless red eyes stare down from the tall body. "AHHHHHHHhhhhHHHHH” ...arching back against the stone as she begins to drop her hands, the shotgun jabs hard into her belly in warning. The gunfighter silently working Shania’s firm tit, squeezing and kneading it, testing its resiliency, then holding it from above, squeezing the sides inwards and making the big nipple stand proud. He looks into her face and sees the signs of fear within her and feeds on them, not fully understanding she now fears herself and not him.
Shania whimpers as she brings her hands back up over her head shifting her chest forward lifting her breasts more..."please...what… whatever you are...let me goo...you… you had my aunt, isn’t that enough?" Knows inside that the words are all wrong, that she will gladly succumb to the pressure that even now is building within.
“why do you want me?” her eyes pleading for the answer, “Why won’t you talk to me?” The breeze rustles about her, on the edge of it do her ears mistakenly pick up the chuckle and the words, because you enjoy it. Deep inside she hopes she has not heard what she has, hopes to dismiss it. It haunts her none the less, no less so than the shadows. It is the answer to her greatest fears, those simple words full of the truth she does not want to hear but knows so intimately. She sees in the dark stranger’s eyes the cusp of life she stands upon, to submit her will to this fear, or to continue to fight it either way she risks what is left of her sanity.
The shotgun moves upwards, the muzzles moving to the underside of her breast, barrels cold against warm flesh, then sliding higher up the curve. The end of one barrel delicately presses over the hard nipple, encircling it, hiding it from view, then abruptly pushing forwards, twisting the gun into soft flesh around the aureole, withdrawing to show a ring-like mark around the nipple. A sudden shudder runs through the Shania as cold metal twists her flesh, sending lances of white pain and pulsing pleasure into her... whimpering, moaning... yet her nipple responds.... throbbing as the barrel pulls back...nearly an inch long and thick as a pencil now, sensitive and tender, Shania holds herself still, her eyes on the gun now not the red glow under the hat. At that time the decision is made, and with it a fire flares within her, no longer suppressed….”Pleaseee, what …what ever you want, pleasssee take me.”
The gun barrels waver between pouting breasts as the leather clad hand keeps squeezing, finger and thumb moving to capture the nipple, rolling and tugging it's tumescent peak between them. The gun points to Shania’s unmarked tit, moving slightly as it approaches, eyes watching the nipple disappear inside a barrel, then the gun pushed forwards, squashing the breast, twisting and withdrawing to leave another ringed indentation. "Please Sir, please, that hurt... mmmm what do you want me to do with you.... suck your cock.... let you fuck me...is that it?" Her voice is reasonable.... her eyes though are watchful... hopeful even...Little does she realize that she will learn to do whatever he desires of her…but it is a start.
Standing before the man she lets her eyes travel downwards, seeking confirmation of what she believes he desires. Somehow this is different, the familiar bulge of desire does not exist on his crotch….has she gotten it all wrong? Does he not find her appealing? Suddenly the thought hits her like a brick…she wanted him to find her appealing, she wanted to be sexy, desired. It was becoming an overriding concern the longer she remained here in this desert of dreams and nightmares. That scared her more than the man that now stood before her, with her gun in his hand. Then she understood, the dawning growing in her mind…the voices on the wind, she was of far more value alive…he did need her, and there in lay her power in all the equations between them.
The deadly shotgun slips lower while the gunfighter’s hand moves from one breast to the other, alternately squeezing roughly and then teasing the long nipples, mixing pleasure and pain while the girl stands helplessly. The gun moves below her waist, onto her thighs, tapping them and gesturing Shania to spread her legs wider. “I want you…you won’t kill me….so…just take me and enjoy it won’t you….why the theatrics?”
With a shiver, lower lip quivering, she slides her feet a few inches apart ...then more as he taps them again, until her feet are wide and she is high on her toes, barely moving as she spreads them... hinting at the ease that she can spread them.... wider then any of those town women... standing like that on her toes, her legs take a firmer shape, adding a difference the entity hadn’t seen before.
It entices him to see what else those legs might be able to do…imagines himself between them, under them….it gives ideas for a fertile and demented mind…he chuckles and looks about finally finding the area of the canyon wall that will do nicely for a test of….to see first hand the possibilities.
There is a tap of the shotgun again, and then the finger points, gestures to her. At first she lacks any understanding of the simple gestures…finally, hands still over her head she stands straight again, chin up in defiance. She will do what he asks, even as hope begins to fade that her desires will be met. Has she misread the situation? Moving slowly along the canyon wall, till she has to stretch her leg out on the narrow shelf she shimmies along to cross the gap in it. There he stops her, legs spread across the wide gap. One last gesture and she raises herself up on her toes again, legs straining to hold the pose.
The leather-clad hand reaches between spread legs, cupping over the curved mound and squeezing softly, middle finger sinking between puffy lips into a dampness that stains the glove a darker black. As the digit finds her clit and strokes it, Shania moans softly then bites her lip, her pussy gripping the leather finger hard. The hand strokes lower, the leather covered middle finger locating the entrance and curling up, sliding inside her pussy as the shotgun barrels rest just above the girl’s swelling clit. Shania shivers as her pussy grips hard quivering around the finger in a near orgasm. Hope springs anew, he is interested in her.
The gun barrels press lighter this time, the twin ring shaped marks barely visible even on such pale skin as that of her naked mound. There is something odd in the expression of those red eyes, something mocking as a second finger pushes into her tight cunt and begins to thrust in and out. Shania grits her teeth fighting it... the pleasure as her pussy squeezes and quivers... closing her eyes, she leans her head back.... trying hard not to give this thing satisfaction in her cumming so quickly... hands grip the rough stone as her hips arch out a tiny bit, her thighs taunt.
Fingers slide out of the wet cunt abruptly, reaching for swollen sex lips and spreading then wide apart, holding them open as the gunfighter crouches down in front of the girl, any idea of taking advantage of the situation stifled by the twin barrels steady against her sex; barrels that slip down her open slit and suddenly push up, entering her cunt. Eyes go wide as she looks down between large breasts. Shania can’t help but notice the finger is still on the trigger, remembering all too well the gun is loaded.
"NOOOOOOO please noooo,’’ whimpering now. This was not what she had in mind with her first acquiescence. Yet even then she feels the surge of energy and fire through her system. The rigid metal within as her pussy squeezes around the twin barrels as they slide inside her, spreading her tender walls... the sun heated barrels spreading their heat into her as she slowly descends upon the barrels legs spread wide. With a grunt, following the gestures of the dark figure before her she slides the twin barrels in and out moving her torso up and down, the gun held perfectly still. Each thrust she makes takes a little more strength from her straining legs….then her knees quiver as she shudders, cumming around the hot steal barrels, tears dripping down her cheeks… but they are tears of shame, The shame of enjoying this …this torment of sorts.
The barrels enter deeper, the finger on the trigger a constant threat, but one she does not believe will be acted upon, as Shania is works the object she saw as her salvation in and out of her slim body. With small movements, withdrawing then pressing deeper the long barrels inch further up into her cunt, meeting the resistance of her cervix and pushing through, filling her until they seem ready to come out of her mouth. The pleasure pulses through out her body, centering on her pussy as the hot steel slides deeply inside her.
Shania sobs in pain and pleasure as she quivers, the hot barrels making her ache, her clit quivering as it grows just inches from the red glowing eyes...sobbing she lowers herself as far as she can.... her hips wiggle trying to ease the unyielding iron into her yielding fleshy passage... then a strong orgasm shakes her... her voice moaning and echoing in the grotto. Hands come down upon her knees, helping to keep her upright during the spasms that wrack her body. Her own juices drip sliding down the metal barrels, catching the sun in glistening reflection.
Stealthy trailing plants reach out to the discarded clothes as the gunfighter watches her thrust her uncle's shotgun deep up inside her slender body, most of the barrel hidden inside her cunt, juices trickling down over the sun heated metal.
Fingers on trigger an edgy danger as the gunfighter watches the young girl take the hot steel deep inside, thrusting herself up and down, already having cum twice. The steel slides into the tightness of her body, red eyes watching without expression. Shania feels the shotgun press against the back of her womb slowly on each thrust.... forcing it to adjust.... stretching its shape as it slides in and out in a slow pleasurable torture.... her pussy orgasms again then again, her knees ready to fold as she whimpers in pleasure.
As her legs tremble with the effort of staying upright, the shotgun, it's barrels shiny with cum, slips out of her spasming cunt and the gunfighter steps back away.
He gestures and watches as she places her hands above her head once again. Holding something in his hands now, she recognizes the pink egg….wonders what new torment of pleasure she will endure. It is not a long wait as legs quiver, still holding the pose, ready to collapse except for shear force of will. That she holds herself upright is an amazing testament of stamina and will, one that will be tested again and again.
Placing the vibrator against her wet and lubricated channel he pushes it in. Pulling a leather band of sorts from another pocket he gestures yet again. Shania following his lead lifts her leg up, moving it next to her other leg and inside the circle of leather. She sees clearly for the first time the leather thong with its small attached loin cloth. Pulling it up securely the gunfighter ties it in place about her hips. The leather strap cuts across her mound riding against her engorged clit to run between her labia lips and across her anus. All of this securing the pink orb inside her, held in place by the leather strap. The loincloths flap is only an inch wide and hangs to the point her legs meet. Ancient golden script decorates the bottom half inch, writing that she will may never decipher unless she is the one. The gunfighter finishes tying the battery pack into place along her hips using the cords of the thong. Twisting the top he turns it on and steps back, gestures for her to move towards him.
The egg dances within her now, her body trying to naturally expel it outwards and failing as the leather strap keeps it in place. Moving as directed she steps, feels the tight binding pull against her clit with each step, tremors from the touch cascading through her pussy to dance with the vibrator. Her thong had been tight against her; this one tormented her with pleasure. The golden hem of the loin cloth bounced against the base of her mound, adding to the sensations. Was he really expecting her to walk home like this? “I…Too much…going to cum…if have to walk…” breath ragged in need of release.
Looking up into the red eyes that seemed to sparkle in anticipation she had to wonder what torture was next. Was this it, to only walk herself into orgasm, again and again…Nothing seemed to cruel if it showed her that she was a slut, able to find pleasure in all things. Yet, she was finding every minute exciting, even as she feared what she had become. Every time he had waited till she desired it, was fighting herself for the chance to be wanted, desired, and consumed by passion and she submitted just as the verse had told her too, found ultimate pleasure in the submission.
It came as a complete surprise then when he pulled out the black halter vest of leather, its edges trimmed in the same golden script. Holding it out to her he waited. She took the supple and soft leather in her hands, turning it over and over. Placing it over her shoulders she noted the fit….perfect as if sculpted for her body. There were no clasps upon its front, nor did they close completely about her chest. Rather it rode to each side of her breasts, bisecting each nipple. With each movement there would be a flash of flesh. She moves about, testing its limitations. Heat builds between her legs as the thong pulls and the egg dances in a never ending wave of pulsating pleasure. Wetness creeps down her inner thighs in answer to her state of being.
The hand opens before her offering up a short leather strap between two bleached white canine teeth. She takes it in her own hand and stares not knowing what it is for. With a tap upon her lower breast and the vest she looks, sees for the first time the small eyelet hidden in the golden script. The tooth easily fits within it and the other on the opposite side. The vest pulls snugly against her firm breasts pushing them together and upwards, the craftsmanship evident in the way it molds and holds her form.
Finally the knee high leather boots are brought out from behind the bush. The heals tall and slender, not something you would consider walking in the open desert in. Still the gunfighter gestures, Shania compliant as she bends over and pulls them on one after the other. Again the fit is perfect. She walks a few steps, feels the swing of her hips and what it does to each part of her as leather rubs against her sensitive flesh. No longer does she have to crane her neck to see the gunfighters eyes, she stands another 5 inches taller, a large gain when you are only 5’ 2” tall. “Where, where did you get this…..?” looking up into the red eyes searching for an answer.
He spins her then, half way around and she feels the pull of something as it goes through her hair. The sensations cloud over and she closes her eyes to feel them closer. A hand works its way to her front and undoes the leather clasp of her vest. Her hair flops back against her bare back. A braid, holds it in place…strange that he would care for her hair. She follows the gestures commands and turns. Looking him in the eyes, looking for any hint of what may be next, but hoping anyway he finds her attractive in the clothing he has dressed her in….trembles in fear at the thought….has she fallen so far?
A single finger brushes against her wetness, sliding along the leather band between her legs the up, flicking her clit ever so softly. She moans, not caring that he will know the state she is in; turned on still but now without any objections. The wrinkle around the eyes tells Shania that he is smiling behind the bandana; she leans into him then, just one last time, seeking his touch and her release. He allows it, feeling her up with one gloved hand while the other works over her breasts. The earlier edgy ride now supplanted by a softness, perhaps even tenderness.
The sensations demand closeness, and so with deliberate moves Shania hops up and wraps her legs around the gunfighters hips, arms about his neck and lips play at the bandana before his mouth. This totally unexpected, the entity pleased by the pressure those legs apply about his construct. The hands make one last assault against her flesh, pinned as they are between the entwined bodies. The moan, final desperate sound issues forth as her head falls backwards…all she wants is in the gesture, a chance to be the initiator, her legs tremble at the effort to keep herself pinned upon his body. Holding him closely she rides out the after affects of a long steady orgasm, egg still buzzing at the apex of her wet quivering hole. She collapses against the leather clad chest, fighting for air but not releasing the stranglehold of her legs even as they quiver from the day’s exertion.
The slap upon her ass awakens her to the here and now, pleasure even form that. She unclenches her legs from about his waist and settles back with her feet firmly on the ground. He reaches forward and turns off the vibrator with a twist upon the top of the cylinder. Their eyes lock, it is she who looks away from those piercing red orbs that penetrate to her very soul. She feels those eyes travel over her body in approval, feels something yet stirs again within her because of it. Yet for some reason he has not himself taken her, “Don’t you want me?”, pleading almost. ‘Am I that far gone?’ she thinks to herself….looking for any sign in the eyes.
The reverie broken as a rabbit jumps from the bush nearby and with a defining crash tumbles through a cloud of dust. Shuddering then, Shania truly realizing that the gun could have done that to her, that at no time was it unloaded….Watches as the black clad gunfighter walks over to his kill and picks it up tying a bit of leather strap to its neck and bringing it back to her. Having hunted with her father she showed none of the city bred squeamishness as the hand holds out its bloody trophy for her to take.
He holds out the shotgun then, as if begging her to take it. Trembling she reaches a hand forward and takes it from his grasp. Does she dare point it at him and pull the trigger? Does he deserve her wraith or thanks for what he has done…shown her this day? Before the thoughts finish cascading through her mind to their eventual conclusion they are interrupted by a tremble from deep inside. Startled eyes going clear again…back to the here and now she feels the egg dancing within her again, sees the gunfighter smiling as he motions for her to follow…..across the desert they go, a small lithe girl of light skin, blond hair, and dark leather following a black clad gunfighter.
Only once do they stop on the way back to the town. But this time it is she who fires the shotgun…finding it hard to concentrate with your nerves on fire from the dance within your belly and the pull of leather across sensitive points…even so she hits the target and adds another rabbit to the previous. No doubt tonight she will dine on some sort of rabbit, all thoughts of running temporarily gone.
As they reach site of the town the gunfighter turns to face her and bows. He places a leather finger against his lips and then with another slashing motion, runs it across his neck. Then before amazed eyes the solid image flickers and fades from view. Gone, just like a dream that never happened. A breeze springs up and wraps itself around her…no not gone; always here it seems to say.
‘What did that mean’…She shudders as much from the knowing fear, as well as the pleasure that seeps into her with each step. She cries out then, the fear winning out for a moment, “God, what is it you want…This cannot be right….” Lower then almost a whisper “can it?”. Falls to her knees her face in her hands sobbing now... the sobs shaking her body as something lets go in her.... the grief in her forcing the wracking sobs that go on… minutes lengthening as she cries until her little body stills finally.... slowly she stands, her green eyes puffy from the tears….a lost look in them...She has consorted with ghosts and beasts and found pleasure in it. Wanted them, and so was alone……, so alone….. They would lock her away if she ever said a thing. Was that what the gunfighter was telling her?
The entity feels a sense of satisfaction at the scene, looking at the tear stained face, the humiliated expression, and the dribbling pussy... a good lesson…you desire it all, want the pleasure that it brings in spite of yourself… nowhere was safe, and there was nothing that couldn’t be turned against her, or be used to pleasure her. The others would see a different girl now. She would see a different girl as well…a woman of great attraction…of pleasure.
Shania finally knelt and picked up the shotgun, the two dead rabbits with the leather tie holding them together. Picks them up as well clad in the leather the gunfighter had given her, feeling each step the sun still in the afternoon sky watching the small clouds of dust play about the town. Wondering what it all means. Yelling then, “I live you bastard…and enjoy it!”…feeling the breeze blow itself across her….”submit to my pleasure” it seems to say back. Startled then by an answer of sorts…there is nothing more to say. By the time she reaches the edge of the town she is amazingly and surprisingly only a little dusty, but once again very horny.
Reaching the main street, she sees truck, the familiar Blazer of the sheriffs, then notices him sitting on the steps of the house, patiently awaiting her return. He gets up as she starts running down the street in the high heals, her braid thumping against her back. She shouts out in joy, “Hello, you old goat”. Watches as he slowly gets up, eyebrows going up, almost like he can’t believe she is the same girl. On the run still she drops the shotgun, canteen, and rabbits and in one smooth motion, forgetting herself, launches into his arms, legs up and around, arms over shoulders and plants a kiss upon his lips. The man lurches backwards caught off guard by the sudden momentum and weight. Crashes into the side of the blazer and stops. She pulls her head back and looks into his puzzled eyes.
“Oh, sorry…” the back of a hand wipes across his mouth, legs and arms disentangle from him, “I forgot….forgot what it was like to have somebody around…sorry bout the”, she blushes, crimson staining her cheeks, “kiss….but… Yur such a good lookin feller” eyes regaining their sparkle and lips crinkling on the ends in mirth.
“Uh…ain’t you a little light on clothes…thar missy?” uncomfortable with the whole situation showing through his demeanor and raspy voice.
“opps, ah,” she turns around, sudden adolescent embarrassment, trying to hide her open front until she can get the strap out of her hair. Suddenly she wants her clothes, wants to be wrapped up against the eyes of men, modesty rebounding strongly from the old mans mild reproach.
Her rounded ass, just a thin strip of leather between the cheeks is all that greets the eyes of the sheriff. “I’ve been, ah, busy…”, turning once again, the vest held clasped together by the leather strap with its teeth, she looks back at the sheriff, “hope I didn’t keep you waiting long?” Still the flash of a red half orb sits along each side of the vest as it plunges down her front, her evident arousal barely hidden now.
“not too long thar missy, glad to see yur ok.” He shook his head, a smile crackling the lines upon his face, “must say I didn’t spect to see yah like this, yur a strange one thar.” Still hard to breath and think straight with the charged sexuality that exudes from the girl, in her every move.
Jabbing him then with her finger in his ribs, “I do declare thar sherrrifff, I’mm no stranger than yur”, doing her best at a good southern drawl. “come on in, its not much,….. the least I can do is give you a drink of water, I’m afraid there isn’t much else around here.”
She leads the way, hips gently sway as the muscles bunch in her legs and ass, making him breathe a little heavier. The sheriff searches his memory for the little waif he had met at the bus depot. It was her face, her hair, but everything else was different. He had never thought of her as strikingly gorgeous. Never thought she would have the curves that were displayed so predominantly now. Even the eyes were more alive and vibrant. Something had happened out here, had changed her in ways that were not necessarily bad, at least he hoped. He watched as she sashayed up the stairs and bounded into the house, no not the same girl at all. This was a woman,….she was a woman, yes, but totally unaware of her affect on the men about her, innocent of anything you wanted to accuse her of.
It felt good to have a real man around, company to talk with at last. Could feel the eyes watch her and follow her every move. She liked his eyes upon her, but still might be better to put on the sundress; even in its modified form it covered her better than the leather did. Somebody was altering her clothing…that did piss her off some.
“Tell me what’s going on in your town”, handing water glass out, looking at him, measuring him. The small voice still spoke to her, the sheriff was perplexed.
Before he had a chance to say a thing she heard the distinctive crunch of gravel and the billowing dust cloud spoke to the arrival of yet another vehicle…. “Its here….you brought my truck”, spinning around and looking at the old man, “oh thank you …thank you…thank you”. Ran to him and placed a kiss upon he check this time, acting like a little school girl at Christmas….
The other vehicle pulled up. Her truck, the diesel engine chugging along in a perfect rhythm, stopped in its own cloud of dust. She had spent considerable time deciding on its features, knowing she was going to be in the middle of nowhere. It was a bit of a step up for her to get in, small price to pay for something that could get you around in a desert, and haul a bunch of supplies in and out. It paid to plan ahead with your purchases when you lived so far from any town.
The young man got out and walked towards her and the sheriff. She watched his eyes alight upon her body, drinking it in, his eyes never making contact with her own. She shivered, those eyes made her uncomfortable, no…. unlike the red eyes that glittered about her during the days and nights in this town. ‘Why no under things, no bra, no panties’, she thought to herself, feeling even more naked under the stare. Vulnerable to all, it was a good thing the sheriff was here.
“Mike here, he agreed to drive yur truck on out. It seemed a good ‘scuse to come for a short visit. So how you doing?”, looking to change the subject, not liking what he was seeing in those eyes.
More like a young boy, probably her age. His eyes were wide with wonder, felt their intensity on her. Stunned by the look she brought her arm up as if to further cover herself. The look brought her back to herself….the danger she might pose for these two men.
“Ok,” enough said, going back to the one syllable response. It saved you from the emotional baggage of being utterly alone…alone with strange things going on that nobody was going to believe anyway. Saved you from probably getting some one killed if the watching shadows saw something they didn’t like.
“gotcha, well let me and the boy help you out by bringing a few things in for yah”, Without another word he pulled the sack from the back of the car.
“I need a signature, for delivery”, finally a look into her eyes, they did little to hide his hunger; it was scary, no better than the red ones, perhaps worse. She was then conscious of how her erect nipples pushed against the fabric, aware of the male essence next to her. “Your keys”, was all he said.
Warm metal touched her hands, the click of keys singing songs of freedom to her soul. She grasped them in her hand, smiled and nodded, trying to get away from his prying eyes by turning her back and moving towards the old man. This meant freedom, ghosts or no ghosts, her chance to leave.
“Missy, this ers Mike, Mike this ers the lil waif I met at a bus depot once upon a time”, thumb indicating the blond with the slowly unraveling pigtail and little black leather vest that flopped open in the breeze, and the thong of leather with something plastic…wires running between her legs, the scent of sex wafting from her body to fill the nostrils and cloud the minds of men.
Eyes never left her body; she felt them on her hungry, ready for a feast. It sent shivers through her, She bent over then, retrieved the shotgun and rabbits, realized as the eyes traveled it had been a mistake….bending at the waist that is. She looked over her shoulder and saw the feral smile upon his lips, too late, he would read it as the invitation it was not. Doubted even the threat of the shotgun was going to keep this one away….dead rabbits added nothing to the equation as well.
What she was going to do with the rabbits was beyond her, but they were here, and for all she knew that would be in tonight’s meal if she didn’t get the boss mad at her. The equation had changed, she had keys and a vehicle…had the sheriff if she wanted a ride out of here. Would he stop her? That would be a definite yes, and he would kill the kindly old man that stood before her…she couldn’t let that happen.
Moving inside she propped the shotgun against the door and went to the kitchen grabbing the dress from the line along the way. She threw the rabbits into the sink, and dropped the vest from her shoulders, wiggling into the sundress before a pair of astonished eyes, forgetting the men in the other room. Hands worked at the leather straps, untying the leather thong, reaching in and removing the egg from within her, then tossing them aside as well. She turned and caught the men’s eyes, realizing her mistake….or was it? Smoothing down the fabric of the sundress that only now went just passed her upper thighs…only enough if you were careful and didn’t bend over. ‘What was with her?’ Tried to change the subject then, feeling a bit uncomfortable with what she had done. Met their glazed look, words tumbling out, “damn, I’m sorry….I’ve been here a week and lost all my manners, too long living with the damned.” Disappearing from sight she worked at hostess, only a moment while she went to the well for the water and filled the jug.
The old man looked over at mike and worried that maybe he had not been the best choice. Shania seemed to be lost in deep thought and given her innocence was sending all the wrong signals….signals that the boy besides him was picking up in all he wrong ways….they were going to have a long talk on the ride home. He could only hope that Mike left her well enough alone.
She gave them each a glass of water, held hers out and with a mock toast “to freedom and trucks”, smiling at the men, even while the dress rose dangerously high from her upraised arm pulling on the fabric.
Glasses were quickly emptied, the sheriff sending Mike to the blazer, looking at her now. “What’s wrong, really now”, low gravelly voice next to her. When her eyes met his she could feel the compassion, desire to help. Another of her cursed gifts, that ability to empathize, see into another’s soul. It could hurt you as much as help you.
“just caught me at a bad time….I ….I like it here, but I promise, now that I have the truck I’ll be social…look you up.”
“yur sure?”
Leaning close she whispered, “He worries me…but yes, I’m sure.”
“I’ll talk some sense into him missy, don’t yah worry bout that.”
“Thanks,….really thanks for bringing out the truck…I’ll see yah soon, I promise.”
Was he glad to see her safe, mind sound but different from the girl he had brought out here. A final word, as he asks her to be careful, glad she has the shotgun. With the bags sitting upon her porch as she had asked the men turned to get back in the Blazer. She should have offered them something, was afraid to delay them any, did not want any blood on her hands. Death was already a part of her life. The incongruity of it all, death had taken everything from her, what more did she have to give? With that they part their ways, dust fills the air. Always dust, it is what is left when men leave.
The click of high heals against worn wood; one by one the sacks find a new home inside. There was all wonder of goodies, mostly canned stuff, necessities really. A wonderful gift all the same, from a man that had kept his word. The sheriff new what she had come with and had anticipated what she would need fairly well. She heard a noise from the main room, remembered the shot gun still by the door. Dumb, leaving it behind.
She checks and finds it still against the outside door jam, looks out once more and sees a fading trail of dust on the horizon…Once again she enters her home, a home that offers her no safety, no sanctuary from the shadows that move about. She slips off the sundress, alone again except for those that have seen her nakedness already. With a last effort the boots come off, her feet sweaty within their confines, now drying. There will be a copper tub of water ready for her at the barber shop. It is like he reads her every thought. She walks there to see…make sure knowing it will be ready.
The tub of water beckons, full as cool water topped with a good deal of lather waits. ‘Screw you’ she thinks …she feels nothing in the area, her senses alive to any sort of presence. She ponders the feeling of being alone and uncared for, is someone trying to care for her, is it the meaning behind the water and the tub? The constant attention that has been given her this last week, before the attention turned to other more personal needs.
Hunger, humiliation, the naked feeling, and dirt all wage a fight for her control. She steps into the water and the relaxing aroma of strawberries, her scent, her mark, dirt wins, ‘what the hell,’ she thinks, ‘I’m already naked, rather put clean clothes on a clean body’. She sinks into the water, daring to relax just a little, worn out from the days of exertion…of walking and running, and…fucking. She cleans herself of the dirt and dust then gets up and towels herself off.
Shania dresses yet again, wearily finding the clothes next to the tub suitable. Her snug jeans and a loose blouse ...for some reason she couldn’t understand she had not put on any underwear, nor did she even contemplate the fact none had been offered.... her feet were bare... the paint on her toes faded. A clean change of clothes after a bath almost brings her back to life, her stomach growls.
He watches from the shadows, happy to see her finally take an offering, happy that she prides herself on cleanliness, looking good.
The girl eats, finding the stew in the pot upon her camp stove edible and nourishing. Probably the rabbit, for the meat doesn’t have that tang of iron to it of something that comes from a can. ‘one more little item to look into, then get the truck and run’ . Thinking to herself, realizes then that she has to take care of herself if she is going to have the energy to find her escape. The simple stew slips across her tongue and soothes her mouth in the way of real food. She looks out the window and watches the setting sun. The sky goes to a bright orange hue, reminds her of both fire and passion. Memories of both flood her mind, causing a single tear to trail down her ruddy check, even as the swell under her shirt tells another tale. For what she has gained or what she has lost escapes even her.
When she finishes she heads back to the main room, her towel hanging on the line as it dries in the breeze. She looks carefully about the room, the shotgun barrels following her every movement, hairs standing on the back of her neck. Even the gesture, maybe meant to be reassuring is anything but; she has heard or seen nothing.
Footsteps crunch in the gravel of the deserted main street as she heads to the leatherworkers shop. Carefully opening the door, gun forward and leveled, ready to fire at the smallest movement. Still nothing moves, all is still in the gathering twilight. Eyes take in the changes, the mannequin, her height, her build, disturbing that…the new leather…the smells that it brings with it. Someone or something has been working here. Forms of a foot are spread upon the floor. She pulls off the new boot and places her foot upon the form. A perfect fit. Sits down then, “so am I the new project…to be shaped, to be worked to your image?” The fit of the leather so far is perfect…yes tailored to her body….”Why….I bet your getting tired of that question….well….to bad, because I’m leaving, and this time there is nothing you can do about it.” With that she strolls from the building hips swinging shotgun over her shoulder like a gunslinger of old.
She closes the doors into the house and sits upon the couch, heart beating fast. Slowly as the minutes go by her heart unwinds, the exertion of the days events, the full belly all conspiring against her, she finally begins to rest, her mind struggling to regain control, the shotgun across her knees as the light fades...a fire crackling in the fireplace, its golden light dancing in the house. The metal of the keys in her fingers, it brings her happiness to just see them and feel them there. Tomorrow, during the day she says to herself….tomorrow, sleep now.
Darkness falls fast in the desert. The clear air turns black and millions of stars stud the sky. Oppressive heat turns to cold. Within the town and its bubble of influence, the entity watches. Mostly it watches the slender girl who it is intent on possessing. Fate may have brought her here and made her attractive. But there was more now. With each incident, each lesson, each violation, the entity found itself more eager, and found her exude a little more power. There was something about her that stirred a response way beyond casual desire. It didn't just want to take this girl, it wanted her badly, wanted to feel her squirm beneath it's bulk, wanted to see her kneel before him, and yes, despite his unearthly origins, he was male. And the maleness reacted to the femininity of Shania. He wasn't in love. But he was in lust. And the drive to own the diminutive girl was beginning to drive him.
More and more his attention focused on that slender figure and the pleasures he would extract from it. He had already taken her dozens of times in proxy, but to feel his own cock stretching her.... that would be something different. To hear her beg for more, to watch her grovel in front of him.... the purpose in owning her was becoming secondary to the driving need to simply have her as his willing slave... to use her for every twisted desire he could imagine... and he could imagine a lot...
Awakening slightly at last, Shania watches the sun set...a almost dream…the stark beauty of the hues lifting her spirits... and as the stars come out... so many and so close here she felt she could, with a wave of her small hand, cause then to swirl and spin... the moon hadn’t yet risen.... she couldn’t even remember what phase it was in...her green eyes wide in the dark as the desert chills.
She held the shotgun loosely over her knees ready, both barrels loaded. She had eaten and cleaned herself off... her pale hair a white shadow in that dark, catching the yellow and reds of the fire that crackled in the room behind her.... and she waited, her mind calming and regaining control as she slowly began to realize the effects the past two days had brought to her body.... how tender her nipples were, how her clit tingled, still aroused and enlarged. This she couldn’t understand... she had been used and responded... by something.... by wolves... by something else.... how could she be aroused by this…what would you call it when your body responded and eventually the mind in the most primal ways to something that should have thoroughly repulsed you... it made her confused, so she sat there staring at the stars and thinking, till the stillness of the night took her again and the shadows came to life, moving her and making her comfortable.
A warm hand closed upon her leg, laughing voices filling the room, mind suddenly and instantly awake as the cursed gift warned her of pending violence and mayhem. Her eyes flew open wide full circles of white about full dark irises, dark shapes in the room with her. Screaming she kicked out, only to have her leg pinned in a vice like grip.
“come on girl, we only came for a little fun….and by the look of things you is ready for it”, a laugh then, the alcohol laced breath cascading over her face.
“stop, please….”, realizing she was on the bed, naked, wondering how she got there. Strong arms pinned her down as she squirmed to get free. There were more than one of them…sensed and felt at least three. Nothing seemed right about this game, fear is what she felt to her core, there was no pleasure, no desire to submit. She fought them then, with all her strength.
“hold her down…yeah like that”, weight shifted above her as rough cloth and metal scrapped her skin. “now I’m gonna give you what you wanted earlier.”
Wasn’t sure yet if this was a nightmare….until she heard the sound of a zipper being undone, felt the hands down low, the thick hard shaft upon her abdomen. Shania screamed, filling the room with her desperate song, hearing it echo off the walls of the small room and filter into the dark night. Off in the night came the answer, a howl to her ears….long and strident. ‘Mar…no..Mike, yes Mike’….”Mike, don’t, just leave…please no.”
“Hell, Mike, she knows your name”, another voice from out of the darkness at her feet.
“Oh, just shut up, and get her leg over….we came here for some fun and she’s the fun. Cost us four hours….should keep us entertained for at least that long”
Legs painfully wretched apart….this couldn’t be happening to her…what had she ever done to them? A face came close to hers, the putrid breath washed over her again…this time she lunged forward and bit down. Something warm and salty swirled in her mouth as the weight shifted above her and scream rent the air, “AHHHH, the bitch bit me!”
In a blur she saw the fist and then the stars spun before her eyes as her head bounced upon the mattress sideways. Then another strike as her temple throbbed and her lip split, warm blood trickling across it and into her mouth. “You Bitch, I’ll teach you”, red hot anger flared through the contact between them filled with violence and hate. Inside she recoiled from it, even as her body shuddered physically. Hands closed about her neck … ‘they’re going to kill you and rape you’ the thought flowed even as she struggled to breath and darkness began to descend upon her.
A growl close at hand, ‘must be dreaming now’ she thinks, ‘or dead’, voices in panic about her, arms free bringing them up to protect her face from any more blows. The bed bounces beneath her as skin meets fur and the shouts grow more intense in their desperation. Nothing holds her now, she moves, not of grace and fluidity but like an old woman, muscles tight and unyielding. Shania rolls off the bed as the fight breaks out around her, searching for the shotgun…’downstairs, yes must be, last place I had it.’ Moving quickly to the stairs she arrives at the landing, the need to survive kicking in her adrenaline. A body blocks her path at the top of the stairs, she kicks out hard, and striking with her heals, watches as the man bounces down the staircase.
The body moves slowly, moaning and scrambling to get out of the house, out of the way as she follows down the staircase running. Outside an engine flares to life, headlights suddenly illuminating the interior of the old house through the open door and open windows, bathing it in a surreal white light. Yelling and growls erupt from outside, sees dark shadows play across the floor as she heads to the couch and the shotgun leaning against it. “I’ll make you pay for this” she screams into the lights. It seems to take an eternity as the shotgun comes up to her shoulder, then, not really aiming she fires, a blossom of fire sprouting from the end of the barrel, lead racing through the door and into the oncoming lights.
Sparks fly as some of the lights go out, hears the engine whine as gravel is spit into the front of the house, the large tires churning. Shania runs then for the door and into the street as the red lights flash away. Once more the flame erupts and once again fewer lights remain amongst the sparks that cascade from the back of the vehicle. For some time she stands in the street, panting, fighting for life giving oxygen, shot gun in hand. Her legs feel the furry creature to each side of her. Looking down she sees the great red eyes, sees the satisfaction in them….”thank you”, a sparkle then in those eyes as she turns to go inside again trembling in the cool breeze. Once again she feels the throbbing of the flesh upon her face as the adrenaline fades and reality sets in.
Opening the back of the shotgun she picks out the shell cases and discards them, putting two more in place from the stockpile next to the sofa. Carries the gun upstairs and puts on a robe…her only one, its hem far shorter than it used to be. Sits upon the bed and watches out the window for the return of the truck…two large wolves move to settle down upon the bed on each of her flanks, one nuzzles her neck, the other places its head in her lap. After a long while the night and the days exertions take their toll, eyes close feeling the security that the wolves provide…feels safe in their embrace…protect they seem to say…play latter….

Ghost town
Day 9 Tuesday
The Blacksmith

Nothing moves in the still morning air. The town remains deathly quiet. Shania awakens and stretches aching muscles, working the stiffness from her limbs, wondering what the day will hold. Fur rolls next to her; a warm wet sensation moves over her face. She knows that she has only dozed, on and off through the night. The Shotgun, instrument of her demise and redemption just yesterday rests upon her lap, dried stains upon its barrel. Her real salvation lies next to her and atop her. “Stop it…..not the face you mangy mutt.” Moving hands up to the large furry neck, she kneads and scratches its surface. It moves, moves and licks her still perky nipple, she twitches at the feeling, “ok…ok the face then”.
She shudders at the thought of what she has gone through, what she has enjoyed. Her mind and body having been at war with one another until this morning now are strangely silent. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this. These feelings of joy and pleasure, induced in the most hideous of ways. Then remembers last night…not a dream….two warm and furry bodies reside next to her upon the bed.
She massages her legs, feeling like she has worked them harder than at any point in her life. Legs protest her move to get up and off the bed. She gets up, lacking the dancers grace as muscles howl in protest. The light cotton robe feeling good in the heat, nipples still stiff against its soft fabric. Stiffly she walks to the small shack outside and back upon bare feet, cradling the shotgun in her arms like a newborn babe. She winces as the sharp rocks poke into the bottoms of her bare feet, stopping once to pull a thorn from her tender flesh.
Nothing bothers her as she moves about. She scans the town for the telling red eyes, and ethereal forms. Hope springs anew that perhaps they have gone, quickly silenced by the knowledge of her plight. She can feel their eyes upon her, watching, waiting. Running has proven to be out of the question. Her mind begins to work, moving ideas and plans back and forth. Running is impossible and only invites the worst of degradations. There was no way she would be able to make it in the loafers or the couple slender high heals that she had left to wear. Her feet were still soft and tender, would not bear up under the relentless assault of the desert with its rocks and thorns.
Putting on her clothes, then looking for the keys….’god damn it’….not finding them anywhere. Sitting then, have the creatures taken the keys…keys to her salvation that sits right outside the house even now. Running is all that is left.
Her legs protest at the very thought of running. Even dance and track practice had not worked her to the degree she has with these hideous creatures. She stretches her body, exposing long legs and their subtle curves to any that wish to watch. Calves rounded and toned blend into slender ankles. A telling Space of air between her legs just under her proud mound bounded by soft pale skin. Her slender cut blue jeans tight against her skin, protecting it now from sight, but doing little to not reveal their shapeliness. She bends at the waist, letting her head down, till it touches her knees, hands splayed over those slender ankles. Does the stretch with her back to the wall, giving her audience as little to cheer about as possible.
She notices that the sun is up fairly high in the sky. Dry heat hits her like opening an oven door. It is small wonder she thinks that she hears no birds, senses no life at all in the shimmering haze brought on by the heat rising from the ground. Her stomach gurgles in protest and she moves to the kitchen. Food, wanting it simply for the nourishment it provides and to rebuild the muscles that have been pushed to their limit in the last few days. She feels a drop in her own energy level as her body digests the sustenance within. She wants to sleep a little longer as well, mind unwilling to allow it. Surely there must be a way out.
Looking out the window she sees a cloud of dust billowing up into the sky. It rebuilds itself a little closer … continuing to …could it be Shania thinks, salvation. It is coming closer, the road. Yes someone is on the road. Joy leaps within, she realizes that this is it, the chance she has been waiting for, hopes that it is not another trick. A surge of energy courses through her frame reviving her in ways the food had not.
She can feel the presence behind her and turns. Red eyes, a large body in an apron, one of the unholy ones. A shudder rolls through her unbidden; she knows that her eyes betray her even as the hand comes forward towards her mouth. The gesture to remain quiet as a finger touches her lips. Then the other gesture, the giant creature she does not recall pulls his hand across his throat in a cutting motion. Like wind from a sail, the surging energy leaves. She well understands that she will cause the death of whoever comes should she say anything….Body shudders as the shadow seems to just fade away.
Her mind reels, was he here all along watching, can they appear and disappear at will. It isn’t fair, she moans, a lone tear tracing a watery path across her dirt stained face. Poor Shania, everything has gone wrong, like the fates had decreed that her life would be a living hell. Sure, she had felt more pleasure in the last three days than an entire lifetime. But she really wanted to be wanted, needed, and loved. The thought crept in, she was used, perhaps needed, but it was not enough, there had to be a way to get out of here.
Time seemed to stand still as she watched the dust cloud get ever closer. She knew that her life and the life in the approaching vehicle were possibly forfeit if she made one bad move. She still had no desire to die, had no desire to cause the death of another. That’s how it was when lately your life seemed to be all about death. It was a rather morbid dilemma.
She saw the glint of sun reflected off something, knew now that a car approached, and then another glint, further back this time…yes, two vehicles approached. Who could it be? ‘Oh god no, not more boys…men…the attempted rape of the night and their return, a return to exact revenge upon her’, she thought. Shania clutched the shotgun a little closer then, “The bastards will get it worse now.” Two furry shapes got up and paced the porch around her, agitated by her own disturbing thoughts. Dogs could do that, pick up on the disposition of their master….why not wolves. Breathing deep, working a calm into her inner being willing the chaos away. It would mean she would wait. Wait for their arrival and her chance to finish what they had started. Looking about she had to wonder if the shadows ever slept, if they ever stopped watching…Doubted it. Would they also work to protect her as the wolves did?
She watched from the patio of her small house, growing tenser with each minute, yet dreading the coming conflict, knowing what would happen to her if she lost…..”Damn, if only I knew where I put the keys”. The air about her already seemed on fire, a fire that reminded of death. Shania wanted to put the shotgun down by leaning it against the backside of the door jam, out if sight to those that would come, but close enough if they wanted a fight….but it was her last defense, even with the paltry number of shells she had left.
The billowing clouds of dust beckoned the arrival of the first truck, a familiar white blazer, only this time the lights were flashing, their red and blue alternating splashing the lurid color off bleached buildings. Visibly she relaxed, shoulders releasing the pent up tension within. The shotgun slipped from trembling fingers as the blazer’s door opened, and she sow the familiar face…one she had seen just yesterday. Stumbling now, adrenaline gone, she descends the steps and into the street, almost collapsing in the old mans arms….smells the familiar scent and begins to cry…..
“Its ok missy……..its ok….”
Only sobs met the voice, deep and full….safe for now. A profound sense of relief as the other car pulls up, another police vehicle…Closes her eyes then and settles against strong essence of a man that only wants to protect her, reminds her of the wolves….protection, safety….
“Ah, missy, ah those are some big wolves ….friendly?” No threat yet from them, still they are wild and therefore unpredictable.
She turns a little in the mans arms, looking at them…”Its ok…friend”, watches then as the two wolves lay down upon the porch, eyes closed, drinking in the morning’s sun.
“Missy, I got to ask some questions…..thars been an accident….Detective Palmer is here if ..um ..yah got sum….female things to talk ‘bout”
Shania looks up then, sees the middle aged women and her hard look, it softens a little as their eyes meet. Had that edge that said I mean business…yet there was something maternal behind that look.
“Did anything happen last night missy….” Eyes looking like he hoped not, was sure now something had….
“Yes….” Felt the body next to her tense….a fathers worst nightmare about his daughter coming true, “tried….tried”
“Its ok, I know you tried to fight them off……how bout we go in and sit?” Voice filled with concern
“No ….not that”, knowing he had it a little wrong….
“No to inside?”
“Yes….” They were getting her all muddled up; she broke away then and led them inside picking up the shotgun, the barrel still smelling of fire and smoke.
“Missy, is it ok to talk about it….what happened last night?”
“Ok…..ah, Mike came back…”
The two officers glanced at one another, knowing glances exchanged…she watched them….realizing that she would have to tell the tale.
“I was tired, long day….never heard them….till, till they were in the room and I felt them grab me.” She looked up then, gesturing outside, “the wolves came to my rescue ….saved me”. It hit then like a brick….the wolves worked for him…the wolves had saved her, helped her. “oh god, he saved me”
“Shania, who saved you?”, female voice this time.
Fear crossed her heart, she didn’t want these two killed because she had slipped….”the wolves….the wolves saved me.” Hoped they would let it go at that, hoped it would be enough.
“How do wolves save you?”
How indeed, how did you make it sound like you weren’t crazy…”Mike came back…the wolves guard me…saved me.”
“You said Mike came back….could you tell me more?”
“yes….I heard him, saw him in the dark…he was on top of me, before…before the wolves came……I told him please no, but he was….” She looked down, quite now, “he said he was going to have me…one of the others said his name after I did…it was him.”
“Shania, I know this is hard, but did he touch you….anywhere…the bruises on your face, from him?”
Hands came up then, felt the tenderness of her face, “he hit me, I bit him…didn’t want him, he got out his …..was rescued then….got the shotgun and fired at the car, hit it….saw the lights go out “
“Shania, would you be willing to have me check out the scene, take some photos of you….” Eyes met, maternal and kind now, the business end hidden, felt it then like a current in the air, this women would do anything she could to put people in jail when the time came….realization even deeper…something that gave her cause.
She looked directly into the eyes of the sheriff then, “I need to talk girl stuff….be ok”.
“Missy, detective, be right outside taking a looksy”. She waited till he cleared the door before looking back at the detective.
“You were raped weren’t you”. A telltale gasp from the detective gave it away.
“How…how did you know.”
“Can feel it, the common cause….I’ll help, Mike will go to jail” saw the expression then felt a new tug in the current in the room, new emotions “you never told anybody did you?”
“I don’t understand….how” eyes wide as if she were dealing with a ghost of her own.
“Mom called it a gift, I can feel the shift of your emotions….since being out here I’m getting even better.” Snaking a hand out and grasping the older womens, Shania tilted her head back and closed her eyes. “you hate that part of you, the fact he got away with it…. parents….hate there at that word….did they have something to do with it?” she opened her eyes then to look the woman in the face.
Pulling away, bewilderment in her eyes, “came to talk to you….don’t…long time ago, never happen to another woman or girl…what happened to me….so there you have it. “
“Oh..... Mike….Mike didn’t get far, not as far as he would have liked…got stopped before … before he could….ya know….and his friends got less.”
“Were did it happen?” Shania noted the slight tremor in the voice, things had changed, and she felt bad for the woman, felt lucky herself…she had a protective patron….wondered now if she really wanted to get away from him or not.
Shania got up then, “upstairs, bedroom….I’ll show you.”
“Thanks, Shania you ok with this.”
“With you here, yes, …how did you get here so quick, I mean learn about it?”
“There was an accident, a cell phone call, a lot of babbling on a 911 tape, your friend outside was concerned that they could have been here…he is worried he picked the wrong guy to bring your truck out.”
“Oh…..” gesturing then. “This is where they found me…” a hand stopped her as she prepared to enter the room.
“Don’t have to go in…what were you sleeping in…I’ll need it.”
The blush rose on her cheeks, embarrassment, “I wasn’t….Like…” voice lower, “I mean I’m out here middle of no where and”
“Its ok, got it…have you washed off….anything like that?”
“Not yet…just put on these” pulling at the clothes she wore.”
“Alright, let’s go downstairs and let me get the equipment….I’m going to have to check you out, take pictures maybe a swab or two, ok?”
A large breath then, “I’m ok…you’ll get mike….this time they won’t get away.”
“Don’t know the half of it, the others didn’t get away…they died in the accident.”
“Oh god”, stared at her hands and wondered if this blood was on them…
“Shania, I’m sorry, it’s not your fault…..” Felt the hug of arms around her, holding her close. This is why she does this job…to right a wrong done long ago against her…wishing she could get the man who had done this to her….
“He is still alive isn’t he…you know him don’t you…..”
“Mike, yes.”
“No not Mike….your nightmare.”
Stiffening then, “Yes…yes to both, just its now yours and my secret….ok.”
“Ok”
For a long time they just held one another, finally she broke, “I’ll get the equipment and get started….left then, Shania alone watching the two police gathering cases and equipment. She came back in finally with the sheriff lugging several large metal cases. Pulled out the camera and started the pictures, outside first, the house, then inside….finally had her sit down on the couch and did the face shots, the shots of the bruises on her arms and ankles she hadn’t realized where there.
“I’ll be looking for any hair samples, also semen…did he get it out?”
“Yes, felt it against my stomach….”, pointing to the area.
“could you show me?”
Shania just took off her shirt and stood there, watching the look of astonishment cross the woman’s face…’what, I know shouldn’t be taking my shirt off…but, you wanted to see….’ Didn’t say it aloud, just waited as the woman looked her over, finally scrapping something from her gut onto a little vial. It was a clinical process, nothing sexual, even when she asked for her to drop her pants. Shania started and then paused….’god, she was shaved, what would she think about that, they, the shadows, had done that to her’. Struggled with it for a moment and then dropped them. This time the woman tried not to react…” he didn’t penetrate?”
“no”
“thanks, is this all you’ve worn today?”
“yes, got dressed in a hurry this morning…” maybe that would explain the lack of anything under the jeans and shirt.
“I’ll need to take them down to the station, see if anything transferred from your body to the shirt and the pants…ok”
“Go ahead”, didn’t say, ‘I’m running out of my clothes fast….those are my last pair of jeans….’ But then new stuff was showing up, things that she really shouldn’t wear in public…but were exciting all the same. Shania walked over to the sundress and pulled it over her shoulders, turned around and realized the woman was still watching her.
“Sorry….just you move…the way you move….” She dropped her eyes downwards then, left Shania wondering what she was really talking about.
It took the better part of the morning before the equipment was packed up and the search was over. All she could do was scratch the wolves’ neck and wait. Something about that gentle caress of her nails in the fur was making her horny….she could feel the desire in the wolf and it scared her right then….quid pro quo came to mind. Drove it out then….but looking into those eyes she could see the intelligence, that they were more than wolves, she had been with them before.
“Missey, is thar anything yah need?”
Broke from the revere she looked up into his caring eyes. Grinning, “yeap, more ammo…..you know I’m staying here, not leaving, not yet. Its ok…. and it’s not your fault.”
She watched as his eyes watered a little, “thanks…sorry you’ll have ta get yur own ammo.” He tussled her hair then, she liked the feel, all friendly and warm.
“I’ll see you in a few when I come to town….I promise.”
There was nothing more to say, they left then, two vehicles trailing dust in their wake. Two faces remain, looking up at her with expectant hunger. They seem to smile at her, look at her like she owes them a treat…a bone. “Yes, I owe you for saving my life, thank you again…”. One seems to smile even larger rolling over on his back, showing her his maleness….erect and full, more like a mans…. “Oh no….I….I can’t…..”. Even as her hands begin to scratch the fur of his belly. The touch brings out the sensations of desire and need, feels the heat of the beast and feels her own heat flare….”oh, my god, I mean I really do want this, can’t be….”. Even so she feels herself quiver deep inside, as a rough wet tongue snakes out to touch her thigh just under the hem of the dress. The sensation scares her, and so do the thoughts she actually entertains within her head….Arrives at the strange decision, they are men…used to be, not animals…makes it ok.
“no, I can’t …anything but that.” The tongues and nuzzles don’t stop, they know her body, her mind….have tasted it and desire to taste it again. A word, single letter pops into her mind, Alpha….then female… All of them are male, she has become their surrogate, their Alpha. The intensity and intelligence of the gaze, the way they play their tongues over her leaves no doubt as to what they seek…At this rate she will be plunging her own fingers inside her wet channel…why not…if she does will it bind them more closely to her, prevent the bad men from ever getting close to her again? “Can..can you at least…like change…look human?” There is no answer except the continuation of rolling tongues against her soft flesh. Submitting her will at last she looks closely into their eyes, “Ok, but don’t ever say a word to anyone.”
Shania gathers her feet beneath her and walks upstairs, to the bed she goes…not like animals this time. The thought brings peace suddenly, happiness…what is she submitting herself to and why the sudden elation about it. Reaching the bedroom she notices the newly made up bed, the pillows all stacked at the head of the bed…”did you do this?” She asks, deep inside knowing the answer, Cops did not take time to make the bed after they take the sheets to the lab with them. Two wolves jump onto it, panting, their long tongues hanging out, the same as other parts of there anatomy, almost like they are showing themselves off for her benefit, a seduction of sorts. Shania sees the intelligence in their eyes and knows these are not beasts that she will cavort with, the inevitability of it all sinking in. They are far more, they were once human.
Feeling like she watches the act from a place far away she sees the dress fall away as she stands before the two wolves. Watches in fascination as she lies back down on her back between them and moves her hands across each. Long pink tongues move over her flesh, licking and rubbing. She closes her eyes to imagine its men that make her feel this way….goes easier then. Sensations cascade through her, awakening her own beast, feels it rubbing the other two next to her, pleasure flares as they chase and rub themselves through all three participants. It is a type of sex that goes even further than the mere joining of two physical bodies. Gasping in the thrall of the sensation as her pussy quivers, wanting to feel the stiff cocks slam into it once again.
She rolls onto her stomach and lifts her ass into the air, feels the cool wet nose move into the slit between her legs, the rough tongue against her lengthening clit. A moan escapes past clenched lips. She wiggles her hips, as if to send a message to the beast outside to hurry and mount. The wolf wastes no time straddling her wiggling hips, the tip of its large blunt cock pushing at her tight entrance. Shania pushes back against the thrust, feeling her muscles stretch to accept the thick shaft within her. Inch by inch it worms its way into her depths making her shudder in anticipation of the future thrusts. Finally it hits her cervix, intense pleasure gripping her as muscles spasm about the shaft in a first orgasm.
In one long move the wolf pulls himself almost all the way out and then rams his way back in, Shania thrusts backwards in rhythm, the speed and urgency driving her. The thrusts grow faster, more powerful as her back bucks up and down to meet each thrust. The heat building till, taking her own hand backwards she rubs her index finger over her own engorged clit…..spasms shake the small body beneath the large wolf….”AAAHHHHHHH” she cries out into the early morning…feels the knot of cum roll up the hard shaft within her then burst as she holds it deep within and her own orgasm clenches and unclenches about it. Even as she basks in the warm glow of her first rolling orgasm of the day the wolf withdraws his cock from her. She lies still for a moment, but only just….
The other wolf quickly follows the first, slamming himself within her wet cum soaked shaft in one solid thrust. She screams out in pleasure mixed indelible with a little pain at the force and speed of the thrust. The second wolf wastes no time enjoying the tight wet channel. Paws scramble for purchase upon her own shoulders, saliva dripping upon her bare back…wetness flows down her inner thighs to pool upon the sheets below her. As the force of yet another orgasm rolls over her the other wolf lets loose. Yawls fill the early morning air….there two metaphysical beasts twine about one another as power fills the room. She can see the shifting of colors upon the white walls in the early morning light. Shania gasps for air as each climax forces another moan from her lips.
Rolling over again, she closes her eyes and feels the furry body’s roll next to her in contentment. Tongues lash out and lick the wetness from between her thighs, touching sensitive skin and bringing forth bubbling laughter. “Oh…stop…god,,,that tickles….”, She cries out finally. Languishing on the bed for a while longer before moving again….feels the weight of her own body as it protests now, after the pleasure of the morning.
‘I submitted…fully and …..and it was wonderful’ she stretches out like a cat that just had its fill, body lithe and full of curves. ‘I started it this time….I let them take me…wanted it.’ Awareness flowing fully of what she has done, desired…and the pleasure derived. Still the thoughts come, ‘is this what it meant, to submit and find pleasure as the words had been written…..’. She got up then and flowed down the stairs, going to the mirror and looking at the reflection in its depths. Looked at herself closely, the curves of her body….perhaps the hips were a little to small, the breasts a little too big for her frame….her face…startled then, her face not a blemish or bruise. She had always felt the healing touch, had she slept in the paws of her lovers, been healed. Smiling, she was home…cared for, desired, at peace.
“All I need is a good bath and I’ll be good as new…..”
The gun was still there; she picked it up and checked it. Still loaded, that was a good sign. Whoever rules this town allowed her this weapon, had shown her what it could be used for as well. Paled a little at that thought, how close to death she had been as she drove it into her depths. Enough ok, maybe everything wasn’t peaches and cream, but it was a start.
Now what was with the bath? She felt tired and dirty. Found her robe and drew it about her shoulders not wanting to really walk all the way to the bath house naked…not after last night. She walked there anyway, knowing the way of things in this town. When she arrived it was ready for her. It always was, almost like magic.
She stared at the tub, finally walked over to it and put a hand in. The water felt soothingly cool against the building heat of the day, the fragrant bubbles floating through her to play at her senses. Reaching up and pulling off the loose robe she lets it settle to the floor next to the bench. Tired aching muscles lower her body into the cool fragrant water. She lets the sensation push at her senses, feels the tightness of her body relax a little, and closes her eyes. She floats for a while in another world, the lack of sleep and energy expended in the toil of the last few days taking there toll as she slips into the other world of dreams and rest.
Shania dreams, feels herself floating in a cool mist, the scent of wild flowers surrounding her. Fingers massage her naked flesh, easing the knots in the muscles of neck and shoulders. She parts her lips, breaths deeply and relaxes into those strong bony fingers, feeling them work the knots loose, a relentless assault. A simmering fire remains stoked deep within her, hands work to keep it going, but also to keep it from flaring.
Hands and palms knead sore muscles, working slowly up her legs. She relaxes ever further, coolness upon skin even as breaths bring in air hot and dry. The hands continue to work each leg as they part to allow them full access up the length and breadth of her thighs. The dreams continue as she floats upwards and feels the hands work her backside, from neck to legs. Her body lightens, responds to the movement of hands upon her flesh. Wanting and allowing them to wonder were they will. The heavy massage growing lighter and lighter upon her skin.
Dreams come and go, dreams of strange cool fingers massaging her scalp, working through her long blond hair, head now floating in the softness of a cloud. The hands and tension slowly fade from her body as a deeper sleep hits.
The entity restrains his minions. The bath and all that went with it a reward for a job well done. She had taken his minions willingly, revulsion put away for a moment as she submitted to a whim…a whim that led to two satisfied wolves lounging on her bed….It would be his bed soon enough, his contentment. He would have killed to keep her, had not had too. Even the bath had taught him things about her body.
She awakens, suddenly startled by a feeling, something is out there. The bubbles are gone from the water, floating on the surface are the remains of wild flowers, taken from the surrounding desert. Muscles no longer hurt, she felt refreshed, alive, yet vulnerable in her nakedness once again. A towel is there next to the tub upon the bench; she grabs it, and quickly dries off. Sitting upon the bench are the rest of her cloths. Shania puts on the simple cotton bra and panties….her t-shirt, steps over towards her jean shorts and tugs them on.
On the way back to the house the tension returns to her shoulders undoing the work that was done for her. She finds and lifts the gun, alert now to every nuance; something tingles at her senses, driving the hair upon her neck to stand on end. She moves to the front door, looking out through the open door frame. Nothing moves but the small dust devils that twirl in the street. Hair, perfumed by flowers, hangs across her face. Strange, she doesn’t remember washing it, then the dreams come back. “Hell no, you …where are you…you bastard, its not going down like that….I make the call….. “
No, she has not learned…perhaps this time she will. Vain and stubborn, she must be slowly worked. The order goes out to continue the process.
A knife finds its way to her hand as she cautiously scans the main room from the kitchen. She summons her courage over a deep breath that fills the loose T-shirt and pushes it out, stepping into the room, watching carefully for the signs of man or shadow. Nothing comes to view, nothing moves except the air that had hung so still all morning. Now a light breeze wafts about her….a voice carried by it “come” it says.
“Hell no”, she answers back…
Something rattles the latch on the back door, trying to open it. Shania spins as she stands on the front porch, her finger too ready as the shotgun BOOMS, the kick knocking her to stagger back then fall off the stairs to land, a bit dazed in the dirt. No longer clean, but ready to fight now. The rattling just grows more insistent, then the door creaks open. The girl scrambles back to her feet and charges up the steps, back into the house, the shotguns barrel leading as smoke still curls from one barrel… “DAMN YOU damn you ….get out….I’m not a dog…I don’t do fetch and come.”
Shadowy figures with glowing red eyes crowd through the door and into the house.... parts of them are indistinct, insubstantial... but the eyes... the hands.... and the large stiff erections.... are very visible even in the dim light.
“you got me once…I was weak….I decide…not you.” BOOOOOM. As the blast passes through several and shatters the back window, the small blonde backs up as she breaks the gun open and fumbles out the 2 spent shells... backing again as more specters crowd in. “Noooo….damn you, I ….I will fight you…. I’ll win” The figures crowd closer, seemingly unaffected by the pellets that passed through their gaseous simulation of matter... hands reach for the girl. Shania snaps shut the gun... only one barrel loaded and BOOOMMM... she turns and runs now heading out of the front trying to load another shell. If she were calmer, the girl would probably have realized the shadowy figures were not so much trying to grab her as herding her, directing her flight towards a specific building.
Shania tumbles out through the door and turns for the desert but another group of shadows is walking down the street, cutting off that line of retreat. The truck she thinks…then realizes that she doesn’t have the keys…She spins, dropping a shotgun shell in the dirt and runs down the street, deeper into the town… her bare feet silent yet kicking up puffs of dirt, breasts bouncing as her hard nipples move against her clingy t-shirt... she stops and turns, fires again into the advancing group with both barrels as the fire stabs out. Spinning her back from the kick, she moans as the gun tumbles from her numb hands, ammo gone.
As the two groups of shadows merge to follow the girl down the street, a third group walks towards her at an angle from the front. A large sliding door stands invitingly half open and Shania dashes in ... part of mind telling her its a trap... but her fear of them and… and no, her fear of herself…her wanting them and enjoying it... pushes her on... she turns at the door trying to slide it closed. “I am not a slut….God Damn it….wasn’t it enough I did your dogs today?” Almost crying now as she struggles with the door, then suddenly the door moves almost too easily, slamming shut. It won't open that way again. Red eyes crowd the dusty windows, look through the gaps in the walls but inside the place seems deserted; an old blacksmith's cum livery stable by the looks of it. They do not enter, as if warded from the building.
Shania leans against the door, panting as she calms, her eyes taking in the forge, the bellows in the near shadows... the rest hidden from her view by the darkness. She gropes her way to the forge, hears the thud of lumber behind her and turns. Then there is a sudden flare of light as a large lantern ignites, the click of its glass shade being replaced sounding very loud in the quietness. A shadowy figure grows more substantial, placing the lantern on its hook then turning towards the girl... tall, over 7 feet, broad as a door, thick grizzled beard and a leather apron, the blacksmith is home. Shania gasps as she turns, flees to the door and tugs trying to slide it open. "Damn you get away from mee…"
Back at the house, shadowy figures search carefully. Every scrap of clothing is gathered up. Searching the opened suitcases reveals some interesting garments. Under direction of the entity, these are placed in a separate bag. The remaining clothes, along with sheets, towels, curtains, anything that can hide nakedness, is dragged behind the house and some burned, some saved for a latter day to be earned back. The bag of special items is moved to a safe place.... for future use.
The blacksmith has a slow, ponderous way of moving, as befits his size. Not that he is fat, muscles bulge on bare arms. But he is big and slow, thoughtful maybe. He walks slowly towards the young girl as Shania tugs and tugs, then backs away from the door, looking for any way out... side stepping as large hands reach out, deceptively quickly. They close around her waist, fingers overlapping as hands ring the slender form in their grasp, picking the girl up easily and ignoring her attempts to wriggle free, carrying her across the room, red eyes inhumanly looking up and down her body, a bulge beginning to stir the apron that presses against her torso.
"Nooo, pleassee let me go…,” a small fist hits him in the face... again and again as her knees drives hard into the bulge in the apron... grabbing for anything to swing at the... the thing… The large figure shows no sign of being hurt by Shania’s attack, carrying her implacably, not even enough humanity to laugh at those feeble attempts to escape despite his human appearance. In an open area, a huge anvil is set onto a wooden base. The gift within flares, she senses the desire, the need, knows that he will take her when she is ready. Something inside also tells her she will be ready; will want him when the time comes. Fear flares then, fear of her own self and what it will do in this place. She sees the anvil, senses intent struggles harder against both the smith and herself. The smith sets the small girl onto it, then presses her down until she is lying face up, arched over the cold metal.
“I…I will be gooood…” gasping at the strength of those arms, trying desperately to shift the thoughts of her antoganist. “My name …you know and yours….?” Nothing stirs in the air. Shania kicks and struggles still as the cold hard iron presses into her back... grabbing an old rusty horseshoe she swings with all her strength right into the face of the thing… the inhuman thing... hits him square across the face, not unlike what Mike had done to her that last night. Now the smith seems to come close to laughing as his free hand grasps the horseshoe and wrenches it from her hand.
Oh god what have I done…she thinks to herself…he must have been the black smith…”I’m sorry, just let me go…your .. your strong, I like strong…I can show you a good time if you let me…” The babbling continues trying desperately to change the course of events. Knowing … knowing she will submit and some where deep inside be angry with herself about it.
Ignoring the bruise mark on his cheek, he places a large knee across the girl’s soft belly to pin her to the top of the large cold anvil. Then taking the wrist that wielded the horseshoe, he bends the arm back and down. His strong hand holds both wrist and horseshoe against the wooden base, Shania’s wrist inside the curved shape. Reaching for a large hammer he gives a couple of powerful blows and the ends of the horseshoe are driven into the wood, her narrow wrist trapped by the metal tightly but still allowing circulation. She struggles to pull the hand out of the encircling iron….clawing with the other at whatever she can reach unable to roll off the anvil, pinned in place by the leg of the smith.
Stuggles to no avail and then cries out, “NOOOOOOOOO LETTT MEEE GOOOOOOOOO". … She struggles, wildly kicking, her arm held tightly by the old horseshoe acting as an iron cuff impossible for her to pull free. Her free hand clawing at the face in desperation…even as the heat in her belly begins to flare…..somehow the sensations different than what happened during the night. Still she bucks like a wild animal, remembering the previous evening, but this time she knows the wolves will not assist her…knows that her own self will betray her in the end. Still it feels good to vent, to at least try to make it difficult…maybe it will make the catch worth the chase.
Slowly, stolidly, as if he were dealing with an unruly horse, the smith works. First pinning the girl’s other arm above her head, then her ankles, spread wide and pinned with horseshoes on opposite sides of the anvil. Stepping back he looks at the curved body secured at four points and bowed back over the old iron anvil. Shania struggles still, wriggling on the cold iron, her body in an arch, her breasts under the t-shirt thrust at the ceiling as her pale hair hangs down almost to the ground, catching the yellow of the lantern.... her eyes wide in fear now as she sees the red eyes staring through every window and every opening in the walls, even the small holes dug out by time... all watching. “Ok“, breath coming in gasps, “alright, I’ll do….do anything you want….don’t have to tie me down….”. Looks into the red eyes with hers, searching for some vulnerability, some sense of humanity.
Once again moving with deliberate calculated slowness, the smith reaches down to a large, rusty looking pair of shears, then walks across to look down at the girl, ensuring she sees them and then waiting. “Please, no…I’ll take it off, just let me loose…really….. Carefully one side of the shears slip under the open neck of her T-shirt, gradually snipping down the front of the garment between her breasts to the waist. Her eyes meet his, knowing that she will be sheared, bared of all that covers her body, a body she had just been admiring in the mirror but hours ago, a body that would be displayed to all their eyes, unable to run and hide….in spite the fear or maybe because of it excitement grew, excitement she could only hope she hid from view…could not admit to….not yet.
Then cutting across her shoulders and down her arms, shearing her like a sheep, letting the remnant fall free, pinned between her twitching body and the top of the anvil. Shania shivers as the cold rusty shears slide down her chest. Moving between her heaving breasts and passed her flat tummy.... begging now "pleasee pleaseee I… I don’t know what you are gonna do but… but I will go along... please just let me uppp pleasee" Yet her nipples have hardened to long hard pink points under the white cotton bra, tenting the material as her desire grows….no longer hidden from view.
In a dark corner of the stable, something watches silently. Not one of the minions, the entity himself, driven to see this through his own eyes, partly materialised, attention fixed on the small girl he wants so badly... soon he must feel himself inside her...welcomes as music to his ears her begging to be naked, her eagerness to be pleased….
Red eyes fix on the up thrust breasts, the long hard nipples, the eyes glowing now.... hot... She shivers as she lifts her head and sees the apron bulging more as he moves the shears down, carefully sliding one side under the tight denim, then snipping... snipping... until she feels the cloth lifted up and off her crotch, cool air upon her sweaty skin…still she has her bra and panties, takes some hope in that. “How would you like me to dance for you….I’ll take the rest off real slow….you’d like that”, trying hard to sound seductive and in control. The eyes regard her, a large hand closes around her right breast, pinching the fabric of the bra around her nipple and pulling “Owww, that hurt”, holding just fabric as the nipple slides from his hold beneath it. The shears close upon the fabric snipping it off, a small round hole reveals her full and erect pink nipple. Cold metal glides over her breast then, working its way through the hole as she strains her neck to keep her eyes up and fixated on what is happening…..soon there is nothing left of the cup that contained her breast, cut away till the support system that surrounds it is all that is left….Watches as the same thing happens to the other side…amazed that those large hands and large shears can be used so delicately…..Not long now, as a hand covers her private mound, cuts a hole in her panties and works it wider, till all that remains is the edges of the panties support structure running down between and around each leg. She callopses back bowed over the anvil, unable to see a thing, but feel, yes she can feel each pass of the metal around her mound and ass….feel the breeze upon her now bare skin.
Shania is crying, more ashamed then before… arched like the horseshoes driven into the wood... helpless as the... the thing strips her... leaving only enough fabric to remind her of how naked she is….and ashamed of how hard her nipples are… and that her tight smooth pussy is moist.... ashamed as the red eyes in the windows burn with desire, watching her being stripped, naked and spread for all to view. Ashamed that they can all see just how turned on and ready she really is….words lacking the conviction and meaning under the circumstances.
A something changes in the room. If an invisible flickering could be somehow seen, that is how it would express itself. The entity in the corner fades away, but the blacksmith seems to grow more vital, more alive... more commanding... and much more than the previous holographic shell. Not that the entity can take the girl fully, she isn't ready yet... but a part of him has entered the smith... to experience a small foretaste.... and to mark his future slave…
The smith's eyes look down into hers with more awareness than she has seen before in any of the red orbs, and his hand strokes her cheek as though settling a spirited filly. Shania is crying, tears rolling down her sunburned face...still she welcomes the stroke upon her check, and rolls her head to kiss the strange hand. ‘Perhaps she can convince him to take her, keep the others at bay…not such a slut then….’ Watches as his eyes touch each part of her body a body glistening in utter paleness in the lamp light... her nipples as hard as they have ever been, firming her breasts, drawing them to set high on her chest, the fullness flattening them as she lays on her back.... her clit engorged and her pussy wet, her body ready, yet still she tries to fight it back, still she tries to think of a way out.
The hand is joined by another, both of them massaging her shoulders, then slipping down over her upper chest, finding the swollen mounds of her breasts and circling them with calloused fingertips, tracing their shapes, spiraling upwards over the taut flesh while red eyes devour the exciting shapes.
"Noo… NOO… pleaseee no god stop… pleasee.... ohhhhh.” She wiggles a bit as her thighs open a little wider... in spite of her fear… her shame… “If….want….be …good to ….you….see”, she wiggles in his hands as they continue to explore, tries to bring up her head to met some part of him and kiss it, lick it, get loose…
Hands palm the full mounds, squeezing, exploring, arousing, feeling them swell harder under the touch. Then finger and thumb, one set to each nipple, taking the erect nubs and rolling them, feeling the hard rubbery surfaces pulse in his grip, stroking them outwards in a milking motion, tugging lightly, teasing them relentlessly. Shania shakes her head gasping at the sensations... her nipples tender and sensitive from the last two days.... the feel sending a response into her breasts that slides along her spine... a moan of pleasure forces it way past her tight lips… then she grits her teeth in a desperate try to struggle, to resist... her soft musky scent wafts in the still air... as the chill speckles her flesh in goose bumps... eyes partly hidden by her hair that has whipped across her face in her frantic struggles. Feels the power in the grip, feels the desire for her growing ever stronger, never this strong before….inside she leaps, feels the joy cascading through her system but not ready to admit it….no not ready to submit…submission must be her choice, her conditions, yet the traitorous body seems to have its own ideas…
Arousal is the key this time, not humiliation, not rape. The body beneath his hands is awake now, ready to respond. The mind might fight but the body craves a touch, desires to be excited, and longs for the shuddering climaxes that have wracked it so often recently. Something more too, the girl wants to feel wanted, needed, and not quite so alone. So for a short while the entity will be a caring and considerate lover, giving the body what it needs physically and emotionally wearing down the mind and its resistance. She will submit fully learn something from this about herself and he….it is his choice….
Fingers arouse the nipples to a point previously unimagined by the naive girl. Then lips replace hands, closing around a firm point, drawing the turgid nipple into a warm wet mouth, tongue lashing over it gently as it is suckled continually. Hands now free roam down, exploring the inward curves of the softly delicate waist, the womanly flare into slim hips as the mouth and tongue work first one nipple then the other. Shania squirms and writhes, her flat tummy quivering as she snaps her knees together, shivering from the cold iron under her back and the chill air… so she thinks.... her mind trying to remember anything... to distract her body... yet the warm tongue circling a nipple, teasing its tip… the softness around its base, soon has her moaning… unable to stop herself.
The huge body bends over the smaller one, mimicking her arch as lips arouse long nipples to aching hardness. Large hands caress soft skin, tracing hips and flanks, stroking softly and reassuringly as though quieting an animal, then moving over the tops of thighs… caressing the tender flesh, moving upwards, fingertips following prominent hip bones, then stroking down inside them onto the sensitive skin of her lower belly.... gently fondling the prominent hump of her nearly hairless pubic mound. Shania quivers as she clenches her thighs tightly, wiggling the tiny bit she can, trying to move from the large hands... hands bigger then her fathers… bigger than any of the few boys she had been out with... ones she wished now she had let touch her like the large hands, just so she could use that to fight with... then a soft shiver of an almost orgasm... from just its tongue and touch... makes her tummy quiver.
The entity feels her warmth beneath him as part of his being fills the blacksmith's large frame. It would need a much bigger body to contain all of him, but he can see, can feel.... feel the soft skin beneath the hands, feel the quivering of imperfectly hidden arousal, as his own arousal tents the leather apron. Breath that is warm and a bit ragged washes over swollen tits as his head leans back to look with satisfaction, the large nipples swollen even more, no longer a pale pink, now a darker red with the blood tingling in their erect shapes. Almost reluctantly lips kiss down the under swell of firm breasts and onto the soft swell of her tummy.
Shania whimpers... maybe in shame maybe in need and pleasure... she herself not completely sure... "God… god what is wrong with me... pleasee I… I… god give me the strength..." now she wishes she had paid more attention in Sunday School... the prayers she learned having slipped away like water between her hands. All that remains is the last lessons… submit and enter my pleasure….is this really what is meant.
Then hands slip down onto closed thighs, gently stroking, urging a response as lips move lower over the slight dome of her belly, teasing the navel with a tongue tip, then lower.... kissing the hairless mount of Venus, tongue trailing the grooves on either side where her hips join her body, lips moving lower to the little bit of her slit that peeks above slim thighs.... tongue pressing just above her hidden clit. The young girl moans now as her thighs quiver, still together but her muscles no longer tensed clenching them... she hangs her head fully back arching more, her pale hair swirling in the dirt... her slim neck pale and long and bare.... almost begging.... she licks her pale lips as her musky scent cloys and curls into it’s nose... cleaner and softer than those females he had smelled all those many years ago.
The entity feels the warmth rising from beneath closed thighs, smells the musky scent, and feels the slackening of muscles in the slender legs beneath his hands. Gently but firmly the large hands press knees apart, wider, ignoring the sudden tensing resistance as his mouth skirts the aroused sex and trails kisses down the velvet skin of her inner thigh. Shania strains against the mans strength that forces her knees wide, then wider…forcing her to lift her hips… taking the little slack she had away. Her thighs quivering as she strains.... her clit large now, even the hood darkened from need… her tiny pussy lips parting a bit as her knees spread… glistening from the moisture there.
With a sudden move, the blacksmith stands and walks over to the wall, “no….god damn it take me…..what…what you …waiting for.” Mad now as she watches with upturned eyes him taking down pieces of old harness from their hooks. Working with calm deliberation, eyes straying often to the arched body, he adjusts straps. Then large hands take a knee, binding a leather strap around it, taking the attached strip of leather and looping it around the horn of the anvil, pulling her knee outwards until it can't move, then repeating with the other leg, looking down with satisfaction; the legs parted wide, the pussy exposed and vulnerable, glistening pinkly. Feels her legs pulled and does not fight it…wants to be vulnerable now, if this is what it feels like….let him do his best….if it pleases him and brings back his touch she will let it happen, let herself be trussed up to wait for the return of that touch….Almost can’t forgive herself for that thought.
Shania moans as her knees are spread wide… wider than he had thought she could handle... till she has her hips lifted quivering...... her eyes clenched tightly... yet this time she didn’t plead, only moaning and squirming a tiny bit in her helplessness.
The entity feels a warm sense of certainty flowing through his mind. This girl was responding so well, she could have been born to be his sex slave. All it needed was for her mind to accept what her body knew already, and for her body to be made ready...
The smith looks down at the splayed and accessible body, bound and arched, helpless to resist anything that was done to her.... and maybe not wanting to resist too much if the traces of her arousal spoke true. But it needed something more, it needed the sense of belonging, of protection.... with a twist of course... why one lesson when two could be taught... With a sudden decision, the smith looked up at the red orbs crowding every visible opening. Good. The girl would learn she was protected, had learned that last night.... desired, had learned that many times thus far... and the minions would learn their place again. And if the knowledge of so many watching eyes helped break her a bit further, so much the better...and to add the final twist she should be able to see all. Orders went out, waiting just long enough for the deed to be done. Then with out further hesitation he walked to the door, watched her eyes as they slide to the heavy bar. “Please no….just you….oh no, too many….sex…private…between two….”
No she would have to learn the truth, that the master decides how many and the audience…. The blacksmith flings the door aside with a powerful arm... Shadowy shapes with hot red eyes crowded in, formed a circle around the anvil, several bodies deep, keeping barely six feet away but not approaching closer.... hot eyes and shadowy erections all around the exposed girl.
Shania starts at the raspy squeak of the sliding door and lifts her head.... her eyes widen as she see the shapes slip in silently... all sizes of cocks... shadowy and cool... as they crowd around held back by… by… by the thing... her head moves around quickly as she gasps, her thighs tensing trying to close her knees...held by the straps. "God Nooo...Stay Away… pleeease keep them away" Yet her pussy lets fall a single drip to glitter for the red eyes as it falls to be devoured by the dry dirt. With eyes on the smith…”Please…just you….I’ll make it good…..please, not a slut.” The words say it all. She seems to be terrorized of this one word in particular…’slut’, whatever it means she does not like it.
Watches as the body on the anvil shudders under the gaze of so many eyes…laughs then with the thought. What is required for her….so that she may view all that happens? The order is carried out. It takes time, time though is unimportant as the great mirror arrives from the back of the bar. A shuffling of feet, a movement of bodies as the inhuman bodies find a way to hold it over her supple and out stretched body. More shuffling and she is ringed by mirrors…brought from all over the town. Any way she glances she will be met with her naked form, displayed for all to see. He looks into those green eyes and gestures upwards, looks up as well, meeting her eyes on the reflection of the mirror….perfect, as he watches her squirm, able to see the length of her body, able to see everything he will do to her, and watches as the body shudders once again, notices the realization come across her face that she is splayed wide, made ready. “Ohhh, evil man…..nooo, not watch….what am I?”
In a silent answer the smith stands before the widespread body, pleased by the result, close enough to feel it's warmth radiating from between her legs, eyes roaming hotly with desire, long term plans winning over lust as he crouches down and kisses the soft belly again, lips trailing down between thighs now widespread, moving softly over swollen labia, then a thick tongue emerging to lick slowly from ass to clit. He looks upwards then and catches her eyes watching him….good.
Quivers fill Shania as she watches and feels the first heated touch of the tongue, squirming a tiny bit… all she can manage to move as it trails slowly down... then her pussy quivers as she orgasms hard from just the first touch over her labia and clit... the orgasm quivering her tummy and her breasts as her head hangs back, a moan escaping from her pale lips... a lost moan … a sad moan… yet filled with passion. She wants the touch, momentarily forgets the audience as her eyes close to the sensations wrought from her all too willing body. Opens them again and sees the audience, smiling, hot lust filled desire in their eyes….had she ever been so sexy to the boys at school….would they be reacting the same way…would she be?
The tongue laps slowly but insistently, concentrating now on the erect clit, swirling over it, pushing the nub from side to side and moving the hood over the sensitive inner core. Lips close around her cunt, sealing softly and sucking gently. Her helpless, immobile position emphasizes her powerlessness as he works her clit as he previously aroused her nipples. Shania orgasms again quickly but weaker.... her pussy tiny… so small and hot... and strong, as she grips and clenches.... her clit sensitive.... more so then the frontier females of the first time... her smell and taste clean and heady…her body stronger in places theirs weren’t... her mind not breaking like they would in the same place.... she is so different as she quivers in the continuing orgasm.
The entity assesses her differences; emotional as well as physical, approving the changes that have taken place in the outer world. Such soft delicate skin, so clean and fresh, yet strong too, mentally and physically, a definite improvement over the women whose bodies he had used before from this land….makes him think back to another time, another place….the one women that he lost to his nemesis, the one woman that puts all others to shame. Will this one replace her, everything indicates the possibility, except perhaps the slenderness of the hips…will she be too tight, too small….time will tell, more tests…..
Lips and tongue move over pink skin slick with moisture, lips closing on the swollen clit directly and sucking it while the tongue tip teases.... and a thick finger finds her tight entrance, easing it's way gently inside. Shania squirms a tiny bit, held helpless as she feels the pleasure and the helplessness... "Ohhhhh pleasee... aahhhh soo good.... pleaseee..." trying to decide if she should resist, if she should be ashamed as hanging her head back her greens eyes see the burning red hot eyes of the shadows as they silently watch her. When she looks up she sees the smith hovering over her sex, head moving, then backing off for a moment so she can see the finger sinking within as she feels it sliding back and forth, her pussy quivering about its thick calloused surface. The only escape is when her eyes glaze over and close…close to the sensations to better feel them….exactly the thing she does not want to demonstrate to her audience. The finger slides deeper through her uncertain resistance of muscles not sure whether to welcome or reject the invader, helped by the moisture coating the tightly ridged inner walls. While lips grip her swollen clit between them, mouth softly sucking on it, the thick digit begins to slide in and out of her heated cunt.
Around the girl spread over the anvil as if for some heathen sacrifice, red eyes burn hotly and swollen cocks jut towards her, longing to use the small body but prevented from doing so... for now, hoping all the same. They see the changes within her, know that they will enjoy her even more than the last time…she is becoming far better….far more sensual.
Sensations of pleasure flood her body again, eyes closing but this time the audience reacts as feet and hands begin to stomp out an unearthly rhythm, a rhythm in tune with the gyrations of her own body….all around her comes the beat, ears picking it up her body rolling in time to it. A hard sensual beat that drives her desire, sex and stamina, energy swirls around them like a tempest, Shania at the center, and apex battered by the winds her hair flowing about her head as if blown by a storm and yet it seems to enliven her, make her heart beat stronger, her pulse race as the flush of sex spreads across her skin, every inch of her a magnet of sensitivity.
Shania tenses again as she moans... her pussy tight and gripping upon a single finger, her ridged walls a tight vice... hinting at what it would feel when he truly takes her...when the tightness is stretched. Her anus quivering as she wiggles a tiny bit.... "YES oh god pleasee take me…just you…… I can’t fight it any more... pleasee stopp, stop before…..I need all of …you…..let …me be good" But the blacksmith seems to be waiting for something more as he keeps working on her clit, tongue flicking over the tip of the bud held between his lips, a second finger gently introduced to her cunt, spreading her walls a bit wider, filling her a bit more.... though less than she has experienced recently... Shania rises quickly closing to the edge as her body shivers.... ready to explode in an orgasm... an inarticulate murmur escaping from her clenched lips. She fights the sensations, the wracking explosions in an effort to not give any satisfaction to those that watch. Each time it only makes the end result stronger, as if she was meant to be watched, enjoyed, pleasured, her fighting the inevitable only making her more susceptible.
The blacksmith-entity keeps working over her wide open cunt with steady deliberation, tonguing her clit faster while the twin fingers slide in and out, aided by the juice streaming from her aroused channel, waiting… This time Shania orgasms hard her moans echoing in the building, her body quivering and shuddering... a powerful orgasm for such a small body.... her eyes partly open and glazed as part of her mind slips and detaches… aware and watching coming to grips… the rest losing itself in what she is feeling... her body very subtly shifting.... in a way opening more... accepting.
That was what he was waiting for, the orgasmic release caused by his gentle touch, an orgasm coaxed from the small body. With a sigh of satisfaction he stands, looping the apron out of the way to expose a long, thick and very rigid prick. Standing between splayed thighs, bending slightly, he angles it down and begins to press it into the still tight entrance to her pussy. Shania’s eyes widen at the thickness spreading her pussy, whimpering a bit at the pain... then her pussy relaxes as best it can… untrained.... she shakes her head somewhere her mind saying this is wrong he isn’t even human... but… but so big... so hard...”yes…” the sound escapes her clenched lips, almost inaudible.
The entity encased in the blacksmith's shell takes it slowly, teasing her pussy into accepting the thick intrusion, withdrawing a bit then pressing back in slowly, easing his cock deeper into her pussy with each move, until it is embedded just short of her cervix. Shania squirms as best she can, bent back over the anvil and secured tightly in place, adjusting to the thickness as her pussy quivers, the ridged walls teasing the sides... moaning deeply, lost in the feeling.... the fullness a bit painful yet somehow pleasurable.... 'OOO god you... you fill me soo... hot.... pleasee don’t… don’t stop."
Red eyes glow at the words. Holding the cock still inside her grasping walls, the blacksmith leans over and with a superhuman twist, pulls first one then the other horseshoe free from her wrists. Reaching below the slender back he lifts her upright until her eyes can look into his, allowing an expression that she can interpret as tenderness. While she sits there, impaled on his cock, he reaches into the pocket of his apron, and takes out a stiff piece of black leather like a wide strap, bending it around her delicate throat and fastening it behind, looking to see if she recognizes the significance this time.
Shania eyes widen as her hands come to her neck trying to loosen the wide strap... her eyes knowing the symbol... “Oh my god, not a dog….NONONONO I… not a dog but a ….slave…no I am no slave…NOT A SLAVEEE.. th this… this not some some novel...I threw…threw it away…" Her body, with some slack now that her arms are free, tries to pull back, her pussy gripping very hard as she does so. The straps on her knees and horseshoes on her ankles, the hands within the small of her back, stop her moving far. Red eyes look into hers, a hard hand holding her chin, forcing eye contact. A thick finger taps her breast, then the collar, points to the blacksmith. Shania shakes her head, “No… no....” slapping the face... “NEVER!!! I… I AM NO SLAVE… NEVER” Her eyes are wide with fear.... and deeper a longing.... as she slaps him again, her chin soft in his hard hand, the lips plain.... unlike the images in the old mans girlie magazines he had bought when younger.... her other hand at the back of her neck feeling for the way the collar is hooked trying to free it.
The blacksmith looks unimpressed, placing his hand between the girl's breasts and pushing backwards, catching both wrists as she flails for balance, pinning them to either side of her, wide apart, pressed onto the top of the anvil. Bending over her, he looks down into her eyes again, with implacable certainty.
"Pleaseee noo if… if you want to fuck ok… ok but this is America ... we… we don’t have slavery.... pleasee I beg you ... don’t... I… I will fuck you and… and be good for you. Why… why are you doing this to me… why… why won’t you tell me... whyyyyyyyy?"
Dark eyes seem to twinkle as they look down into green ones, the message quite clear. She was going to get fucked, was in fact being fucked since his long cock was still inside her, and that with or without her permission she would fuck whatever he wanted her too….and would soon learn to love the act of submission and the freedom it gave for her body to enjoy the act. To emphasize, he begins to slide the thick shaft back and forth in her tight cunt. Shania shivers struggling weakly ... then moans as she cums quickly from only a few thrusts... this one not strong... almost tentative... as if trying something out... her green eyes begging but could it be ... wanting this too? The entity holds the slender girl by the wrists, pressing her back against the anvil as he stands between her widespread thighs guised as the smith, fucking into her steadily, eyes never leaving hers as he watches the changing emotions, impressing his gaze on her, letting her see only those eyes as the pleasure wafts through her body.
Shania’s pussy quivers, with each thrust deeper than the last, until he thrusts the thick head into her womb.... she tightens her pussy wrongly in trying to help.... her inexperience showing... she hangs back her head breaking away from the glowing red eyes that commanded her.... that owned her in one look.... that lusted for her... She shivers as she moans again, her arms straining in the inhuman grip as he drives deeper yet.... How big is he? Only the shotguns barrels had pushed so deep... his bulk molds itself to her, as she does to it, infinitely more pleasurable, her pussy wide and tight around the thick shaft as the head presses in then against the back of her womb, the size of the invader ridging her lower belly, yet she feels there is still more to thrust in. She feels the space between his legs and her inner thighs…wonders how much more she can take as another moan and tremor erupt within her….
With a speculative look the smith releases her wrists, holding her waist instead as the long thick cock thrusts slowly and deliberately in and out of the tightness of her cunt, it's movement as regular and remorseless as a piston. Shania’s hands reach to her neck trembling as she touches the collar... the mark of a slave... she shudders, a deep moan rasping from her throat as her pussy quivers, the ridges rubbing as she tightens like a hot vice, strong.... hinting at how she will feel later... cumming ... once then twice then a third time in quick succession the orgasms dancing like fire along her nerves. The smith looks down at her as the walls of her pussy spasm strongly, imagining them stretched by the full girth of the entity's own cock, imagining her kneeling, head pillowed on her arms and thighs spread wide as the entity kneels behind her, driving into her tight little cunt…
Shania’s fingers tremble as they find the thick buckle at the back of her neck... hard and strong... trembling there, touching it her hands behind her neck, her breasts thrust up toward the beams across the ceiling... the multiple orgasm she had still dancing in her... clouding her.... not understanding why, how she can feel this way.... her finger trembles, shaking from the thrusts, her own orgasms, her voice is soft barely heard, as if trying the word as she thrusts ... "m… m… master"... a shake of her head as she twists the collar around trying to unbuckle it, actions and talk not matching, not yet.
The smith reaches down her body and grasps a handful of hair from behind her head, not interfering with her fingers on the collar, but supporting her neck and directing her eyes to look up into the red heat of his own as he begins to fuck her faster, cock swelling with arousal, stretching her to take it's bulk as orgasm approaches. Shania squirms, trying to handle his whole size inside her… her finger fumbling at the buckle… partly freeing it.... "Too big… hurts… stretching… tooo… nooo pleasee it hurtsss" her hands move to HIS chest trying to push him back the collar partly open ... her pussy tight, hot still, sometimes pleasing in how it moves but mostly nothing, just the quiver, the tightness. He looks down at the partly opened collar, shaking his head slightly with apparent disappointment. The cock shafts in and out more rapidly, her cunt tight enough to provide the friction needed even without any refinements in how she grips. She watches the red eyes still focused on her even as they blur slightly on the verge of orgasm before her own blur and close.
" ooohhhh… god PLEAsee AAAAAAAA... aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa” this orgasm is the strongest of any she has had in the few days she has been here... strong enough to take her breath away as her nails dig into his chest ... her pussy so very tight now, gripping so very hard. The climax playing over the hard full length within her, only the entity relaxing slightly as she cums, stopping all movement allows him to stay in control as her pussy clenches down upon him. He waits as the orgasm plays out, then drives faster into the resisting muscles, their grip rapidly taking him over the edge into his own orgasm, hot seed shooting up straight into her womb as his huge body shudders over hers, eyes finally losing contact, losing focus completely. Shania whimpers as she squirms, rotating her hips on the slowly moving cock that stuffs her so completely.
The blacksmith's body jerks hard over hers as more cum erupts, squirting into her and lubricating her passage more, the bloated cock driving slower now, twitching occasionally as the orgasm begins to fade. The girl’s pussy quivers as cum drips from around it... sliding down over her tight anus then dripping to the hungry dry dirt.... dropping her hands to hang down by the sides, her head back, breathing in gasps as her body quivers still, the pussy relaxing as her womb fills with the hot seed. Then the smith slows to a halt, eyes regaining focus, cock held inside her, hand still gripping her hair and supporting her neck as he stares expressionlessly down into her eyes.
Shania’s green eyes slowly open.... the light of the lantern adding a gold tint.... as they focus then clear, locking with the red glowing eyes that seem to burn into her very soul.... something there scaring her now. She feels the disapproval….intense as it is…but at what, she has just brought him off, with herself feeling something more intense than ever before. He looks down from her eyes to the partly unfastened collar, head shaking slightly in disapproval, then looking back into her eyes with a stern expression, the message plain.... she did wrong.
"Pleaseee please don’t hurt me.... pleaseee... I… I don’t want to die...I…didn’t you like….like the fuck” She rotates her hips again, trying to pump his cock, still not flaccid within her cunt…feels it there. Her trembling hands reach to the collar trying to twist the buckle back around to the rear.
While the ring of red eyes watch silently, the blacksmith takes the partly unfastened leather collar and unfastens it completely, removing it and tossing it into a corner with a blank expression. She feels his continued disapproval, but also the underlying slowly fading pleasure wondering what he is really up too, hope even so, “See, I’ll…I’ll treat you good….said I would,” still looking inot the eyes, trying to turn them to approval, “I..I liked it…..you…..you can have me…again”. Stepping away from the small girl, he picks up a bar of iron, two inches wide and over a quarter inch thick, using no tools but his large hands to bend it over the anvil horn into a rough open circle as she watches over her shoulder, daring not to move a single muscle, not even the ones of her jaw. Reaching towards her, he opens the ring enough to slip it around her neck, and then strains muscular arms to close the ends together, the iron band a loose collar around her slender neck. Shania’s hands grab the collar as it closes trying to stop it, her fingers slipping as the metal warms from the pressure of the inhuman strength, then as the weight settles around her neck her green eyes wide, very wide, she starts crying. Tears stain the flushed cheeks, ride down to mix with other liquid upon the parched earth.
With a look that says 'take this one off if you can', he bends down and releases the straps around her knees, then pulls out the horseshoes holding her ankles. Taking a grip on her hair, he leads her across the room to a heavy freestanding wooden bench. Shania struggles along behind straining at the heavy simple iron band till she is bent over " NOOOOO PLEASEEEE STOPPP I… I AM SORRY.... M… M… master pleasee stopp I… I will… I won’t remove it again."
He stops, looks at her again. The look makes her bring up her arms in order to cover herself…she looks silly standing there one arm across her chest the other in front of her crotch. He gestures to her again, taking out a long stick. Recoiling like he will spank her, it is a thought, but not what he has in mind….no she will remove what remains of her covering. He taps the garments, the band of her panties, the strap of a bra. The crowd of shadows tenses, then begins up the same thumbing beat, feet, hands anything that can stomp….wanting a slow tease.
A blank look upon her face replaced by a tinge of fear as the beat continues and the smith waits patiently. It brings back memories of another place, another time that a crowd surged forward as she shed her cloths for them. She looks into the red eyes of the smith…perhaps if she does just this the crowd will be kept at bay….hands move a little, stiff and tentative as she swings a hip, not graceful, not flowing, but full of understanding. Hands move up behind her and unsnap what remains of the bra, bared breasts heaving through the ragged gaps in the cloth. She cups them then, and bends forward, the ragged remain of straps falling off her back and over her shoulders. Wiggles a little to get the swollen mounds free of the under wire support and throws what is left of the bra in to the audience. There is a jostling were it lands, fighting for the scraps of her clothing to breath in the scent of her, to get closer. Moving her hands to the band about her waist she hooks both thumbs under it…swings her thumbs and pulls on the material. The elastic stretches beyond the size of the sweet swelling of her hips and passes it over, trying to stay with the beat of the feet. Turns and bends at the waist before the smith, trying to make his the eyes that will see the blossom of her sex as she pulls the ruined panties down her smooth legs. There is applause at that, a rise of crimson upon her cheeks, which flares to the top of her proud breasts. As a strip tease goes it’s not much, the panties flying into the smith’s chest, caught by one massive hand that brings them to his nose. She turns to stand before him and colors at the gesture, her scent and the scent of sex strong around her.
The smith smiles, the filly is breaking nicely, learning she can make men desire her, learning that anything can be asked of her and she will do it….He will tech her a small form, one that she will learn latter the significance of….the form a standing submission. Taking up the stick again he stands, and with taps and gestures puts her legs one in front of the other, crossed over at mid calf. Then with a gentle tug raises her to her toes. Stands back and looks then, finds satisfaction in the gentle curves of her strong legs. Straightens her back then, head down, hair cascading across her breasts, pulls it back, away from them as they should never be covered by anything, should be gazed at not hidden from view. With a few more taps he has her hold both hands forwards, arms crossed at the wrist and then splayed open. Yes, grace in the stance, a little stiff, but will become fluid as muscle memory gets used to the poses, learns to move through them in a sort of communication to a master. Dropping to his knees now in order to look up into her eyes, meeting them to show his pleasure in her… ”M…M…Master….Why?” He stands, brings the stick hard enough to sting across her buttocks, she falters out of the stance, staring at him….she will learn to retain the stance no matter what is done, but it is enough for now. His look of displeasure and a tap of his stick upon the ground is all it takes, she resumes the stance. He smiles at that, it is a good start. Takes hold of her head and brings it up to stare upon the bench and waits again.
Upon it sit the old black manacles. Hands go to her throat, the heavy iron band scrapping across tender flesh. She watches the simple gesture, pointing to the manacles, her wrists…the commands clear even if unspoken. With eyes wide, she stumbles against the lip of the heavy work bench, one hand out, whether to push them away or take them up still undecided in her mind, “Please…..ma…master, I’ll ….don’t need ….” Looks into those red eyes, knows the displeasure is still there, she grabs the manacles in slender fingers, the jet black in stark contrast to her light flesh….fumbles with them. Finally she lays the open end upon the table and snaps the cuff about one of her wrists. Tears continue to drop, falling upon the dry old wood, leaving small stains upon its pitted surface. With her manacled hand she snaps the other end closed around another slender wrist.
She looks up into his red eyes, sees approval. She smiles now, thinking she is done, until he hands her two wide leather bracelets. Confusion at first, her wrists already weighted down by the iron, then he simply points to her ankles. Sitting then upon the dirt floor, she buckles the leather over each ankle in turn, Finishing she plays with the metal hoop retained along the side. Finally she looks up again, sees the iron rod in the hands of the smith. He bends over and slides one end to her ankles, gestures for her to slide at behind both her ankles. The bar is heavy as she struggles with its weight and that of the manacles. It would seem that cold iron is to ring her….she looks up again, waiting to comply with the instructions, bent on obeying, happy with the approval it brings. Another gesture along with two D-rings. She snaps them into the rings at her ankles and lifts the bar, one end at a time, finding the wielded half moons at its front to slip the D-ring through, anchoring her foot to the bar. At his gesture she struggles then to stand, her legs spread to just over shoulder width apart. She has locked herself into a position that there will be no running from.
For the breaking of a horse it is necessary that the human do all the work in putting the blankets upon its back…the saddle….then to finally ride it, to show who is boss. For Shania, the training has been gradual, slowly getting her used the instruments that would confine her body, always ensuring that pleasure followed from each confinement. Now she has confined her own body, the first step in the eventual acceptance of her state. That a human would willingly do such not knowing there fate was a clear indicator of their readiness. Only a few more things for him to do to ready her for what remained….each step opening new possibilities on the night.
This time the fear is real as he bends her forwards over one end of the bench, using the straps still on her knees to tie her legs wide apart to the bench legs, the ankles kept apart by the iron bar and cuffs. Then looping another strap around the chains to the manacles, he pulls them taut above her head and secures them so her head and arms lie flat on the bench. She feels the eyes travel her body, she brings her chest up off the bench surface, straightening her back….feels then a leather strap go across her back. With a tug her back is forced into a curve, chest hard against the bench, immobilizing her entire torso…only the ability to slowly squirm against the rough surface remains. Feels her ass like it hangs in the air, open to any thing that he may wish of her.
Shania struggles, her breasts squashed under her as she tries to move... her body quivering "god… god pleaseee don’t kill me… pleasee" The smith crouches down, head close to hers, looking into her eyes expressionlessly. The girl’s eyes are filled with tears ... terrified.... lost.... but something there is aroused too, tender nipples hard on the dry rough wood ... aching from the pressure of her body on them. She looks into those eyes, it is not death they seek, no, she feels it they want her, want her in a way she does not yet understand fully. “Yes…..ta…take..me again ..m…m…master.”, bows her eyes then to him, waiting.
What was she thinking, knows that she alone has placed herself at his mercy by putting on the iron. She has put the chains upon her wrists, placed the anchor on her ankles. Mind come rushing back…’you ..you …you ‘ is says, you gave him this, made yourself a prisoner. He doesn’t want her, not now, something else…what else. Feels the air shake and crackle, wonders what is real.
The entity watches her through the smith’s eyes as a clipping noise is heard, the circle of shadows parting as a large black stallion walks into view, circling the table several times, reddish eye looking sideways at her with an expression rather too aware to be purely animal. Shania gulps as she glances over then realizes.... a stallion………….ready. “NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN... NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GET… GET AWAY… HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... HELLLLLLLLPPPPPPPPP….” She frantically struggles against the bonds… "nonononooooooooooo", table actually moving some as her body scraps against the wood.
Watches in pure fear as she senses the desire riding within the creatures eyes, as its movements show her what it has in store for her….she screams, the cursed gift revealing the truthful agony….knowing it is possessed and would not be doing this if it were not so….she is helpless, straining against the bonds, some of which she has placed there herself. Watches the stallion intent on letting her see what is to come; it's prick heavily erect under its belly, huge balls swollen and bouncing slightly as it watches her reaction. Silently the smith keeps watching her face as the horse circles, then moves behind the girl who gasps.... her eyes trying to follow the horse... she had ridden horses on the farm, that was how it went …you rode them, not the other way around….’oh god she thought’, but this was different… it was huge… she couldn’t possibly take the length…the width.
"Pleasee master… please master you…only you can ..put an end to it…please I… I can’t… can’t possibly take that... it… it will tear too deep in me. You don’t want me dead do you?" She was begging for real now, a pure note of fear in her voice, learning as well…yes only he could put an end to it. The smith’s eyes look into hers, nodding slightly at her acknowledgement of him as her Master, but also stern and resolute... she acted wrongly and she must be punished.... she will be punished. Realization dawning in her eyes, this one is strong, smart, and able to see the actions beyond.
There is power to her, immense power given to him in her last orgasms…there is something of heat, warmth, the south….It is power that if he is careful will be his to put to use…but dangerous still. He looks again at her, behind the expressions adopted so easily by deep red eyes, yes he is pleased. This girl was breaking nicely. A mixture of reward and punishment, a bit of companionship, someone to cling to, and fear of being left alone again ... fear of failure... if that could be instilled the battle would be almost over...
Shania tries to move... her ass firming and her thighs flexing as she strains... her nipples hard on the dry wood, rubbing a bit as she flexes, “HHHHHHHHHHHH... HEEEEEEEELLPPPPPP... PLEASEEE SOMEEE ONEE HELPPP MEEEE… Pleasee master please I… I know girls better looking then me... lots… lots more prettier.... they… they could please you better then me... they… they would fuck anything you want... pleasee master th… that horse will kill me". Still eyes wide she tries deperatly to look behind her, to see the stallion just out of eye shot.
The entity feels satisfaction at the idea. Not just one victim, but she could bring others too, extend its influence…but she must bend to his will, feel she cannot live without him….several more days at least….a number of lessons.
She hears as well as feels the snort upon her ass, something wet splatters over its surface and hot air flows over her entire rear area, going down her front as well as across her ass. “Stay away…..god stay away…” With a thud the stallions fore hooves land heavily on the table to either side of the prostrate girl; its breath is hot upon her back, snorting again as saliva splatters about her, feels the lips of the stallion upon her upturned ass, and its long tongue slide between her legs, striking her belly and then rolling upwards along her slit and clit in one long stroke. She cries out again as her pussy tingles in wetted anticipation. The hooves to her front move slowly up the table straddling her prostrate body. She trembles with each new shuffle of the hooves upon the table till she feels the tip of its mammoth cock just touching her slit. One last time she looks at the smith, begging, the smith looks back at the fear filled eyes, keeping them fixed on his own.... pleasure or pain... make your choice to earn the pleasure....his lips seem to say relax…over and over again….
Shania pussy clenches tight, her face pale with fear.... she licks her lips and manages to speak, her voice wavering "m… master please let… let me suck it’s cock... pleasee anything you want.... pleasee master I… I beg you…" The entity's red eyes dance slightly, an approximation of laughter... she will suck any cock any time he wants her to... and she will take anything he wants to allow to fuck her....But someday, yes, someday he will allow her to do just that….today however, will not be the day. He smiles then, as if to say, yes…later, then pats her hands reassuringly. She feels the lack of movement by him, his steadfastness and knows beyond a doubt that he will let this happen, even wants it too….
Shania’s eyes drop as she sobs, her lips murmuring a prayer finally. A prayer of understanding that even though she has been taught it is wrong….she looks forward to it, an understanding that the next time she will not have to be locked in place….if she lives through this….this monster cock. Right now bigger does not seem better
The horse shuffles closer, hooves scrabbling on the wood beside her, cock lodging its blunt and wide tip against the lips of her cunt. The smith watches her eyes widen with horror as the thick cock begins to find the hole he so recently used, push ever so slowly into that hole, stretching her, even having his own huge shaft in her didn't prepare her for this invasion. Shania’s hot wet pussy quivers against the HUGE head….A scream then fills the room as she stretches passed the threshold of pleasure and into the realm of pain….“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE... EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII... NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.... PLLLLLLLLEEAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.... NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” Shania’s gasps for air between each outburst of pain, the lips before her still telling her to relax….she can’t….as her pussy is stretched wider then she thought possible. But her pussy doesn’t tear.... though stretched to a thin white line around the huge cock as it slowly slides in. The stallion pushes forwards relentlessly, more than an animal while the entity controls it, but it's animal nature is taking over as it forces itself deeper into the reluctant haven of her little cunt, stretching her almost to breaking point as it sinks inside. It pushes the saying ‘no pain no gain’ to the limit.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.... EEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII... NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO....” Gasping “ PLLLLLLLLEEAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.... NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO… AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…”
The entity seems pleased that she can take such a big cock without being damaged.... his mind swarming with thoughts, how it will feel to take her fully...The first major test of her capability slowly being passed..
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.... EEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII....” Shania quivers as she feels the white pain as her muscles are forced apart then the stallion pops through her defenses and into her womb. It slides free for several inches ‘til it stops against the deepest part of her.... she has no idea how much is left... the thrust moving her breasts and nipples, dry wood rubbing her tender teats as she sobs, shaking her head. Even the pain begins to dissipate, changes as pleasure fires into her, as she reads the desire and need of the creature to spill its seed within her….beast awakening beast.
The entity's consciousness switches more fully to the stallion's mind, looking down at the young girl’s slender back, feeling the cock spreading her tight walls to capacity, tight membranes clasping his sensitive shaft as it slowly drives further into her body. Shania lifts her head high and screams again as the cock forces her womb to extend in the wrong way.... up deeper into her... slowly the cock closing to its base, her ass and thighs quivering in pain….yet even that continues to change.
The entity splits its attention, as the blacksmith holding her hands for support looking into her eyes a little sadly... why did she make him punish her...? But as the stallion, feeling rampant, the long thick cock buried so deeply inside her, so fully encased by her, starting to slowly withdraw for another thrust, Moving out almost to the point of leaving her, she gasps at the sensation, and then feels the entire shaft reenter her…feels it all the way in till the tip batters against the wall of her womb, stretching it as the shaft moves within the tight walls. Shania’s pussy quivers, then grips hard, her muscles slowly recovering... sobbing… her eyes pleading and begging… Meanwhile the entity wallows in the sensations, her cunt gripped deliciously tight around the huge shaft, foretaste of how it will feel to take her in his natural form. Bending his will to control it he restrains the stallion's impulse to take her too hard, too fast, wanting her to feel some pleasure from bring taken by something so big... planning ahead. Each slow pulse erases the memory of the pain and fills it with pleasure….pleasure at being stretched to her limits, at being able to feel the cock deep inside her, in places she has never felt anything before. “Oh god……” feeling the building deep within her as the cock plunges once again to her full length…
Shania sobs and exhales loudly as her orgasm suddenly dances along the horses cock... "No… no… god I… I can’t cum like this.... I… I can’t... not… not like this." Shania screams again as the cock presses deeper, something shifting a bit in her as the cock thrusts slowly… teasing. The orgasm finally relaxes her, allowing her to subconsciously adjust to the cock within her. Pleasure comes more readily now, feeling each thrust as pure joy.
The smith’s eyes keep watching hers, as his large hands clasp her small ones, offering her a sense of companionship, a feeling that she is no longer alone, secretly drinking in her responses to the huge invasion, thinking about how she will react when the entity’s own cock takes her tiny body. Shania’s fingers lace with the big hands, gripping hard in pain held as she is fucked.... her nails short, the faded hint of paint on them... her pussy's ridges sliding and quivering... still inexperienced in how she could tease... yet a few hints of her potential as her muscles tighten and loosen and then quiver as the pain and pleasure builds… finally she feels the horse’s balls swing and slap her tummy, the base of it’s cock stretching her pussy that much more.
The stallion is embedded fully inside the diminutive girl, her belly distorted by the thick clock pressing up so deeply into it, the entrance to her cunt stretched obscenely wide, heavy balls swinging against her clit, sending moans from her mouth with each thrust. The bench shivers each time the stallion thrusts into her tight channel. The entity concentrates his attention inside the stallion, feeling her cunt reacting, feeling it trying to enhance the experience for her the thick cock and exulting.
Shania is gasping her head laying on the bench as each thrust shakes her small body, pushes her legs tightly against the legs of the bench. The heat of the horse sends rivulets of sweat to pool between her shoulders. Its front hoofs splayed out past her head... each thrust draws a grunting squeak ... gasping for breath.... the smith’s attentions fixed on her, eyes looking at the painted nails digging into his palms, then back to her eyes, seeing the mixture of pain and arousal in them, guiding the stallion to keep taking her slowly, wanting to see if she is ready to cum hard from an assault like this one. Shania thuds her forehead on the wood shaking her head as she is trying to resist something, "nonono no… no… no… no… no… nono…”
The entity feels a pink mist in its mind, watching her from different angles amongst the circle of shadows, able to take control of any of those dozens of pairs of red eyes surrounding the scene, watching the girl get fucked by another part of himself, feeling every move of the horse's cock stretching her, seeing her eyes fighting an irresistible lust.
"NOOOOOOoooooooooaaaaahhhh" the girl’s pussy grips hard...squeezing and quivering… squeezing and rubbing… a hot TIGHT vice locking around the shaft as she orgasms hard, drawing a moan from her lips as blood drips from her forehead, split open by the way she was banging it onto the table, trying in vain to deny her body’s urges and pleasure.
The entity watches her from one end, seeing her eyes cloud with orgasm, her body shuddering with release even as it feels her cunt grip tight around the stallions shaft, squeezing it hard, and milking it, forcing the cum up the thick shaft, spilling it out into her womb, jerking faster and harder, hot breath on the back of her head. Shania sobs in shame shuddering in the orgasm that wracks her tiny frame. Hooves scrabble for purchase beside her head as the stallion bellows it's release, shaking the wooden building with its cry of lust and almost deafening her, cock jerking hard into the tight channel as it's cum dribbles down inner walls to smooth it's passage, then animal-like, pulling out and wandering off as soon as it is finished.
Shania shudders from the orgasm even as she sobs. The stallion now gone, feeling the dribble of cum down her legs as her pussy tightens, expelling some of the huge load that no woman would ever be able to keep inside. Now laying still the sobs racking her small body while the smith watches her expression with dancing eyes, certain that she enjoyed in some way being taken by something approaching the size of the entity’s own erection; also certain that she will be more tractable in future... and the lesson not yet finished, all those hot red eyes surrounding her, waiting their chance. First things first, standing up, breathing a shimmering mist over her....
The small girl shivers as the red mist falls on her ...tingling...and itches... shaking her head... knowing what this means as her skin pales from the burnt red of the sun to its natural pale creamy color... her pussy quivers and closes as the horses cum drips from it... her sex tightening until she feels it clenching shut. The smith returns to crouch down and look into her eyes again, waiting until they focus on his, waiting to see what she will say this time... She senses this time he has enjoyed himself, that he is pleased with what she has done….still does he desire her.
"M… master pleasee let me go… I… I hurt so... I… I felt it deep in me.... I… I think I may be hurt bad... please master... water... I… I am thirsty."
The smith pats her shoulder, standing up and fetching a canteen full of water from the pump outside, holding it so she can drink, then dribbling the remainder over her sweating head and back, over the tangled rats tails of her sweat soaked hair. His eyes meet hers again, then drift off to the red orbs ringed around her, returning to look at her and nodding slightly.... she belongs to him but he chooses to let these shades use her...
"No… no master pleasee... I… I hurt...nooo more strengthhhh" She tries to move but can’t, can only lift her beautiful face. The smith looks down one more time, face resolute, maybe a bit disappointed that she didn’t accept his decision. Then stroking her cheek he moves away, footsteps receding as he leaves the building. She will learn that broken she will be ridden by whomever he wants, that she is not nor shall be a one rider horse…
"Nooo PLEASEEE STOPP LET ME GOO.... MASTERRRRRRRRR"
As the large figure shambles out of the door and away, the shadows close on the prone figure helplessly available to their lascivious attentions. There is a degree of shoving and pushing, amorphous shapes jostling into a rough pecking order. Then the first one lines up behind the helpless girl, cock already erect, leaning over her and pushing it in hard and with little warning. The girl squirms in her bonds as the cock enters her roughly. So much smaller than the stallion that’s cum still lubricates her cunt, still that mist has tightened her channel again and the ghostly cock feels big as it rams deep.
The smith walks into the deserted house, and over to the bag of items saved for the special occasions they will have, tipping them out onto the couch and sifting through them with interest while Shania struggles, the shadowy figures crowding around her... more helpless this time than when last they took her. The first shadow rams hard and fast into her tight little cunt, well aroused by the scenes it has watched in the preceding few hours, it soon spurts ghostly seed into her and withdraws, to be replaced by the next one. The girl seems aware of the change, maybe a different shape, or a different rhythm, twisting slightly in her bonds, protesting vocally to deaf ears, occasional moans mixed in with the denials as she is taken roughly.
In the house, the smith sorts through the tangle of items. Some more bits and pieces, collected from the various places the girl was enjoyed while outdoors are discarded, as are all the baggy or opaque items of clothing. Only a couple of pairs of shoes remain on the dwindling pile, the best ones red and strappy, with long slender heels.
As the second shadow shoots into her quivering pussy, the girl gives a small shudder, her body reacting again to the desire she feels, mimicking it inside herself and cumming around the cock as it spasms. Then the cock pulls out and she gives a gasp of pain. The third shade seems to prefer the tight bud of her anus, pushing into it with little finesse, forcing the muscle open as it's shaft spears her up thrust little ass. This too only makes her quiver, pain no longer holding sway over the pleasure that cascades though out her.
The smith looks at the remaining items, all flimsy, erotic, designed to accentuate nudity rather than conceal it... a red uplift quarter-cup bra that will display breasts without hiding them... matching red lacy thong panties and some hold-up stockings to go with the shoes. Another bra, transparent black with a pair of matching transparent panties.... also in black, a fishnet body stocking.... eyes glow at the image of large pink nipples trying to poke through the mesh....Yes, these clothes are interesting, never having seen the likes before. What does this new age have in store for him, wishes he could see it, but till then, his tailor will work his designs for the girl, that and these few things….
One after another, the shadows take the supine girl, each in it's own way but all silent, all deaf to her pleas, all using one hole or the other... or both... fucking her mercilessly until they cum, then making way for the next one. The small blonde throws her head from side to side as she is used again and again, alternately moaning and protesting, body quivering again and again the lie and her verbal denials cease among the constant orgasms. She knows then she has succumbed to being a slut, an instrument of her own insatiable desire and that of those around her….
Still more panties, mostly high cut to accentuate long slender legs, in assorted colors... a front opening bra cut low so the nipples will peek above it's lacy edge... stockings, black and red.... one pair of hold-ups ribbed and thick looking, black, designed to almost touch sex lips when pulled up full... not sure about what the small vials and bottles contain….make-up?, eye shadows and lipsticks, all retained…awaiting the discovery of their purpose as some have only been used once so far…from now on they will get much use, her object is to be her best when around him…the keys, he knows there use…the other small objects within the small bag, one with her picture upon it, he keeps….the age is new, unknown.
Shania mind swirls considering what has happened the collar heavy around her neck... The cling of the iron manacles about her wrists, the iron bar that spreads her feet…forcing her to remember what she is... this is no game... no novel she could put down... it owns her... and… and.... and she… she wants it... how can that be... how? Shania’s body shudders now, nearly in a constant orgasm... her nipples so sore from the rough wood that rubs them... her pussy sore, her ass quivering... a feeling of shame but also something else... something else… How many shades? How many hours? How many orgasms? She would never know... sensations merging together into a haze of pleasure punctuated by quivering climaxes as the night passed and dawn touched the sky.... finally the last prick withdrew, and cool air washed over her ass, tickling her abused holes as they are abandoned by her ravagers.... her body slumped on the bench, almost drifting off to sleep... knowing she is not forgotten as the gift reminds her she is cared for…wanted…desired.
The smith stuffs the fragile clothing into a bag, taking it with him, aware the shadows have finished, not rushing but not wanting to leave the girl too long with her thoughts, not just yet. A mental command would ensure a minion disposed of the discarded items.
Shania’s mind is floating.... then the fire chases her... her voice calling out for her parents... yelling to them to run to save themselves.... as the fire holds her, simmers deep within, then cool as it dances over her body sending a shiver of pleasure through her....not killing her, making her stronger…a shimmering wall that builds outwards from her body, feeling her surroundings and the lines of power that flow down the main street just a few yards away…grabs them and twists them to her, feels her muscles relax, her aches and pains go away, the pleasure of it setting her off one more time in orgasm…then fading. She starts awake from the nightmare... from the nightmare of her memory to the nightmare of reality.
Her muscles healed as well as her ass and pussy.... her legs no longer aching from how they have been held immobile... her wrists no longer raw from the iron holding them and her struggles....feels refreshed, yet tired….a physical need for rest.
The girl’s mind settles a bit as her body stills... "How…”, the question still comes even after all the times, “I have enjoyed it…a horse...no less…. A master….. a slave to something not even human.... oh god…submit and feel pleasure…. maybe if… if I play along I… I can figure a way out of this... yes… yes that will work. Play along… appear to accept it... yes.... the sheriff would return if I don’t get back…I… I can last that long... can’t I...?" Yet her body is tender and sensitive.... somehow more alive even with how weak she feels, how her skin crawls. “I… I don’t remember much about that novel… can’t think... but… but a slave wears a collar.... punished... why was I punished.... I.... I tried to remove my collar… ok I see the rules, this I can handle.”
The clothes, flimsy and sexy, the entity carried back were all new... never worn except in a dressing room... some she bought on a dare from her girlfriends before she left.... some she bought in that store on the ride out….something to make her laugh and feel pretty... as if she really was pretty...
The blacksmith walks back into the forge and looks down at the slender figure, pussy looking full and ripe the lips pocking out from the narrow slit, ass tight and closed. He stares for a moment; something is different, something missed by not keeping at least one eye on her.
Crouching down he releases the strap around her back and then frees the strap about the chains on her manacles. Then free her form the manacles themselves. Finally he undoes her legs, picking her up and looking into her face, holding her upright easily, a foot off the ground as he assesses the smooth skin of her yet hard and erect nipples. Shania shudders, her muscles spasming as they tingle again under his gaze.... "Ma… master..." her hands tremble as they try to touch his face.
She should be sore, rubbed raw, yet nothing seems wrong with her….Eyes intently on her then….still nothing….except….was that a flicker….time will tell, places his minions on alert to never leave her alone, to watch her at all times. Then standing her on the floor, he moves over to an old wooden chair and sits, wondering how much she has learned, how many circles has she really progressed to ….how much gold…perhaps none.
Shania looks unsure, thinking, then kneels... all wrong, her eyes looking at him big and green, her shoulders sloping as she quivers still. The smith nods slightly, then corrects her, picking up a stick and using it to tap various places on her body.... back straight and shoulders square, bottom resting on heels, head straight, thighs and knees parted and arms bent at elbows, hands clasped behind her back, one on each arm. Satisfied at last, he sits for long minutes just looking at her naked body resting in classic slave girl posture, the seated position of obedience. She feels the satisfaction in him at long last, satisfied with her display…maybe the game wouldn’t be hard to play….
The young girl shivers at each tap... moving her muscles, still feeling her pussy ooze its captured fluids out onto the floor, her knees a bit farther apart than master had tapped... she not even realizing she moved them that wide. Her grace is apparent even after the past nights ordeals.... almost as if she has held similar positions before... after being shown her muscles hold her in a way that is like poetry... graceful... unlike most she has an easy grace that that is so different. Even though exhausted she holds herself.
The entity seems satisfied with the pose, pleased even at the graceful way the girl holds it, as though born to her position... as though remembering it from some previous incarnation. Even back in the days of Atlantis, when his temple had been rich and ornate, he had rarely seen a girl so adept at the pose. And since then, the infrequent summonses had almost always yielded disappointment.... inferior females considered expendable by shamans or others who thought he wouldn't notice. This one, this slave was intelligent, beautiful and passionate, a fighting tribute to his power and prestige.
There are other forms for her to learn, both sitting and standing, though tonight this is enough….if she will remember it for the morning. If she is really smart and good she would shift from standing submission to seated obedience at once….showing in the forms her readiness to submit and obey.
Like a father with a child, the smith reached down and picked up the physically spent girl, cradling her in his arms. A short kiss upon her forehead, “Ma…master, wha…what?”, his large calloused finger against her lips, gesturing for her to be quite. Shania obeyed, closing her eyes as the large shade carried her out of the doors to the shop. The eyes never opened, not even when he laid her back upon the bed in her house and the wolves joined her upon the sheet less bed.

Ghost Town
Day 10 Wednesday
Decorations

She awakens in her bed, not remembering how she got there. Two furry bodies crowd in next to her still asleep. Visions from the previous day of torment and pleasure roll about in her head. The feeling evoked in the reliving, feeling it yet again as her mind slowly returns from the depths of exhaustion. Rolls upon her back and spreads her legs, running a hand between them, down to the slick slit, the shaved mound. The cold nose upon her own wakes her fully from the dream, ‘oh god, I’m…..after all that happened.”
She sits up then, hunger rolling through her belly like a freight train, hoping to find food downstairs. Almost as one the four eyes follow her, small whimpers as they watch her go. “Not now, gotta get something to eat…..wouldn’t want me to die of hunger now would you.” Winks at them, at there downcast and wide eyes, begging for a treat, one that only she can provide. She turns, feeling the weight of iron upon her neck, reminding her of what she now is.
Something is being cooked, the aroma of which tantalizes her nostrils and sends her mouth to watering. Reaching the bottom of the stairs she pauses, only now remembering the lack of clothing…getting used to her nakedness. “Oh well”, she sighs, “got some thing’s down here…” rounds the corner to see the smith on the couch, watching her, the cook placing things upon the table. Momentary indecision takes hold…but only for the moment, the weight upon the neck not so gently reminding her of her new place in life. The nakedness hits then in an instant…alone, naked, with the shadows to her front, the beasts to her back, even now their hard nails scratching at the bare wooden boards of the staircase.
The smith sees the pause, disapproval upon his face. Fear then of his disapproval gets her moving and she scampers to his side…sensing he expects something, he waits. Flows then into the stance of submission, looking down as taught legs crossed one in front of the other upon her toes. Not a good position to be able to move quickly from. Senses then a growing approval, she shifts again going to the sitting position of obedience, feeling the additional approval, though still she senses that she has missed something, something important.
The floor is hard and unyielding, her knees feeling every little ridge in the wood. Two furry bodies move to each side and stop….she can feel their eyes upon her, expected, full of desire. For what seems like an eternity she sits, nothing moves, not even the cook makes a noise in the kitchen. Finally, a short yip comes from the wolves, hears the clatter of their nails upon the wood floor, sees the legs of one come into view, its cool nose nuzzling up under her chin, tongue out, licking. The other soon joins him, both working themselves across her front…still she remains still, having given no leave to do else, not wanting the wraith of the smith. The tongues lick, trailing wet slickness across her skin, across the nipples that harden under the onslaught, across her belly, nuzzling lower, forcing the cool tongue between her legs. Still she sits, scarcely breathing, the desire within her building, wanting to respond, wondering if she is allowed and still hating herself for even thinking the thoughts.
The couch creaks, soon she feels the cool wispy breeze to her back feels the large hands upon her head, as they guide her entire body too turn around, the wolves dancing merrily in and out with their damn able tongues caressing her flesh. The hands still guide her, laying her back wards till her head rest between the shadows thighs upon the seat of the couch, forcing her body to arch, bowing it backwards, exposing herself much like the time upon the forge. His hands remain to each side of her head. Tilting the head so she may watch down the length of her body, so she can see the erect maleness of the wolves, feels herself quiver in anticipation. The position obviously for her benefit, so she can watch the beasts take her….this time she wants too. ‘have I changed that much’, she thinks to herself as paws scramble alongside her body and she lifts her hips to meet the oncoming phallus. Her hands scramble along the flanks of the creature as she feels the hard shaft along her slit… seeking… finding the hole and pushing passed her tight ridged entrance. Flexing, she drives herself upon he hard shaft in rhythm to the beasts own thrusts, feels the shaft drive hard and deep. Gasping, the first tremors already starting as she tips her hips and feels the blunt tip bounce against her G-spot…tries to grip then on the beasts outthrust, pulling at the shaft that slides within her wet cunt. For the creature it is too much, the hard knot of cum riding up the expanding shaft. Bearing down then, she is amazed at the sensations she can give herself before she explodes and spasms, hot cum erupting into her.
The second wolf moves into position as soon as the first finishes. This time she reaches down and grips the hot cock in her hand. Positions the head against her and lets it ram itself all the way in with a single thrust. The thick hard member bounces against her cervix, sending her panting and moaning all over. Her hand grips its base and lets it slide between her fingers…the sensations sending the wolf over the top far faster than the first, surprising her in the intensity, the idea that her fingers can help. This time he pulls out as the knot of cum travels up its shaft and around her fingers. Still the beast rocks back and forth in her grip, spewing it seed upon her abdomen and chest…cum streams about her skin, glistening in the mornings light filtering in from the window. With their loads spent upon the girl the two wolves depart, looking for something to fill their own bellies.
Shania is not sure about the sensation of cum upon her belly and tits…unlike the shadows, this remains a very real and substantial substance. She glances at the smith, sees him shake his head and take hold of her hand in his. ‘What has she missed’ she thinks to herself. Fingers touch the cum upon her body, then are guided to her mouth….tentatively she places the cum encrusted finger in her mouth, smells and tastes the maleness of it. Dares to look up at the smiths eyes and sees satisfaction bounce through them, looking down she proceeds to wipe her body of the cum, licking it from her fingers….not stopping until she has plunged those same fingers into her cunt and drunk of the mixed essence there in. Senses approval as the smith moves and she resumes her position…still she hungers…physically, and sexually.
Sitting before him she can smell the sex and maleness in the air…it only serves to entice her even further…’god why am I not satisfied’ she thinks. Movement again, she hears the clatter of pans, smells the aroma of food. Fingers close on her chin raising it and holding out the lipstick and mascara containers. She blinks and then takes them. ‘Does he want her to….must’, she sees the mirror, feels the hands gently tug her to her feet….’yes… must be it’. Works at the makeup, not something she is accomplished in, but lipstick and mascara, not difficult…full red lips, eyes brought larger by the dark sweeping lashes. Looks herself over then, still seeing the flaws, the problems no one else sees. Sees the two shadows swimming in the background, sees the desire in their eyes, well at least they appreciate her, but would they if her friends stood next to her…no her friends were much better looking she thinks.
Turning for them, hands instinctively to her front, covering the naked mound as the are clasped together….though not all together modest, not as she squeezes the upper arms together and pushes her chest outwards. The sexuality is there; slowly making its way out…still more training is needed. The smith watches as she bits her lower lip in nervousness. Walks to her then, moves her hands to her sides and works her fingers so that they splay along side each of her thighs. He gestures, and works his way around her, adjusting the pose….watching….she holds it well, from the cant of the hips, the slight bend to the arms and legs. He runs a finger across her body as he displays her for the cook and himself. She can’t help notice the cooks apron is now tented…ready for her…appreciative of what he sees. Still what would happen if they had somebody else…someone really attractive? It comes then as a surprise then the finger flows between the cleft of her ass and then around to her slit…the gasp comes unbidden, the pose only slips for a second. The touch gone, but in her mind she forces the sensations to linger, momentarily hating herself for it.
With a firm slap to the ass the smith sends her to the cook….another test? The cooks apron tented, the food upon the table, her stomach rolling, her pussy quivering. She glances back, but is unable to read anything in those red eyes…looks forward again…at the cook. Swallowing hard she walks to the cook and puts her arms around the shadowing neck, pulls herself up and locks her legs around her torso. Hot lips on cold ones as tongues collide and worm against one another…heat and coolness. Foreplay is rare with shadows; they don’t play by the same games. It comes as no surprise when she feels his fingers upon her slit, one sliding into the hole so recently vacated by the wolves. Those same fingers guide the hard shaft upon her slit…she squirms just a little to get the head aligned true and then settles her pussy upon it, sliding her entire body down the front of the cook. Hard firm tits squish and flow against the man’s chest, soft skin pressed tight against the ethereal matter. The wetness of the wolves squishes and oozes down the shaft letting her take him fully and quickly, not as large as the wolves....still pleasurable.
Felt the table top hit her ass as she settled upon the shaft, watched as the cook untangled her arms and pushed her back down upon the table surface. The food so tantalizing close, still she was being feed something that nourished her in a different way and took it. She watched the eyes gaze upon her body as the shaft drove itself in and out of her. She squirmed under the sensation, realizing that the shade liked her, and appreciated her for how she looked. Brought her legs backup then and dug her heals into his back, pulling herself along the shaft each time he drove himself back home. Speed in the taking, hard and fast, never a moment between each thrust as he pumped into her well lubricated hole, he speed warming her insides. Nerves danced on edge, felt something coalescing about her, power and then the orgasm flared…”ahhhhh, oh god don’t stoooppp”, felt the eruption of insubstantial seed within as a wail broke forth from the cook…or was it her own voice crying out and echoing off the walls?
For a moment she lay gasping for breath on the table…still shuddering from the climax….second, third of the day….already. Saw the hand swim before her eyes and she grasped it, helped her up like a perfect gentleman. Her body trembled from the exertion and lack of food…the man helped her, held out her seat and seated her at the table. Felt the slow trickle of fluids fill the wooden chair seat under her naked legs, it didn’t matter as the aroma brought saliva heavily into her mouth. A table with food….watched as he placed the cloth napkin in her lap, raised her chin and mouth to his…a short kiss…and gone. “You have got to stop doing that too me…” stopped then, holding her hand against her mouth as she caught the stern gaze of the smith from the corner of her vision. “Thank you for breakfast…..” Savoring the food, no matter how simple the fair…perhaps with a real kitchen and real food he would work wonders. She was willing to see. When the last morsel was gone the smith gestured….training was to commence.
She was taken a bit aback over the next hour when all the training seemed to consist of was walking….ok a lot of walking. Back and forth, barefoot upon the wooden boards she trod. How to place her feet, how to sway the hips, at first it was just funny…over time it started feeling plain slutty. Every once in a while she would steal a glance at the smith, watched the eyes change from disgust to satisfaction. Ok, he seemed to be getting some enjoyment out of this, that’s when it finally clicked, began to feel a certain power in the walk, a power over those that might desire her. Just once down and back with her body jiggling and it all ended. He stopped her then with a look and knew she was in trouble…went into the sitting position before his imposing form, not certain what for. She watched as his feet disappeared from view.
Sounds came from out of her vision, she dared not look up, feared his anger growing because she feared what else he might reveal about her inner self. He returned shortly and laid the black nylons and black high heals upon the floor before her, then sat down again on the sofa. Had to wonder if she would ever sit on that sofa again…bending forward she retrieved the items and started snaking on the hose. The stick hit her on the side of the leg. It stung, and she looked up, into the angry red eyes, pantomimed a slow and sensuous pulling. “Oh …master…is then everything, well like ….oh…. I’ve never done it that way, please don’t be angry…I’ll try.”
This time she took her time, used her body and the stocking. Stood up, and with the dancers training bent forward at the waste, turning to offer him the rear view, brought her leg up just far enough to hook her foot through the opening and then pulled the stocking slowly upwards, gliding her fingers across her flesh till she reached the end of her stocking, then pushed her foot forward and on bent toe ran her fingers up her legs again, brushing out the wrinkles, pulling the fabric tight at the top of her thigh. The next she did with body straight, just brought the foot up, hocked the stocking and then slowly straightened the leg pulling the stocking up along with it. If she had too she could bring the leg up even with her shoulder…did so to show off. That was before shoes…after shoes things could get a little trickier. She felt more than naked now, shoes and stockings…nothing else. She glanced up and met the stern face with the eyes bouncing in approval. Something else twitched with approval as well, smiled at that.
The smile didn’t last long, it was back to walking again. The heals seemed to catch every warped board, every gap, threatening to send her sprawling upon the floor in a very undignified and unsexy heap. Concentrating on the task at hand she managed to only stumble once catching herself on the wall, not hitting the ground. The smith got up once to reposition the full length mirror, moving it so she could watch herself walk, watch the smith’s reflection in it as he watched her walk. She felt like a slut at first, then, then felt the adoration, the desire that she could elicit from him. Would other men react like this?
The smith makes a decision and stands. He gestures for his new slave to accompany himself, leading her out, the heals and hose all she wears. She still doesn’t fully understand her self, though it is starting….another lesson is necessary, watching her walk having gotten boring anyway, and his own needs and desires weighed heavily. No it is time to begin to show her the play thing she will become. They head once again to his former work place. A place of iron and heat…a place of personal embellishment for the slave so that she will remember always she was but a toy.
Opening the door, he goes inside, she follows, hesitating and shuddering at the door…but the red eyes of the others are not here, nor is the stallion. Perhaps it will be different. He goes forward, leading her back to the bench and gesturing for her to sit on the edge, and then lie back. Shania takes a moment, whether still learning or in fear, then moves quickly to the place shown, she lies back trying to be alluring as she does so.... but apparently unused to her nudity… unused to the gaze on her... as if she didn’t realize her beauty… her moves not those of a woman that did... but controlled and precise even as she moves ... a dancers grace. He gestures to her and she removes the hose, slowly, sensually trying to be what he might like, feeling inside her his pleasure at those moves. Once again she lies naked before him.
The smith trails a finger down the centre of her body from her iron enclosed throat, down between her firm full breasts, over her flat tummy to her rounded mound. Slowly she rotates her hips trying to bring the touch inside her. His hand rose slightly…avoiding her efforts. Then moving slowly, feeling for any resistance, taking a wrist and fastening it above her head, the strap secured to a leg of the bench, the other wrist fastened likewise. Shania tenses at first as her arm is pulled over her head.... her eyes searching... then she lets herself relax... or tries... still her mind is strong.... her body tense even when trying not to resist. Fear of new discovery, or her finding some sort of pleasure again tonight that will go against everything she grew up with pulls at her mind. That she has been secured almost daily for a week makes time less of a threat, becoming rather a given, a prelude to pleasure…submission…pleasure…so simple and yet so difficult for her young mind to accept.
The huge man discards the apron so that she can see his naked, muscular body, the long cock partially erect, swaying before him as he moves. Looking down over her form, he allows the splendid curves to have their effect, eyes taking in the swells of her breasts, the secret curve of her mound, cock hardening in response, showing her the effect she can have, silently demonstrating her attractiveness and her value as a slave. Shania blushes at the look, feels the desire building within her, still unsure how to react....yet her hips lift a fraction as she opens her thighs wider in desire. The small movement doesn’t go unnoticed as the smith takes an ankle, bending down and securing it to the leg of the bench, then the other, fastening it in place so that her thighs are spread widely, looking slow and long between them at the pink little pussy near to the edge of the platform. He knows from earlier she can be spread very wide, pushes her to the limits then, enjoying what she can achieve. Shania wiggles her ass lifting it to him her eyes closed.... now her upper lip quivering.... as if she is warring with herself. Quivers in anticipation as she is displayed thusly, to the pleasure of a dead man…sure that others watch as well….wonders if she will pleasure them all again, the suppressed nymphomaniac raising its dirty little secret before her. “Master … will others think I’m sexy”.
He is amazed by the question, does she really not understand her own value, her own simmering sexuality. The bulky man moves to stand between her parted thighs, looking down the length of her body, erect cock towering up over her mound, red, glowing eyes, alike yet different to those of the shadows, a deeper red, flecked with gold, taking in the graceful curves of her body, letting her know that he is looking, letting her feel the heat of her master's gaze on her young body. She arches her back then, expands her chest so that her breasts rise higher, trying to entice. The girl gulps as her green eyes look back.... slowly realizing that to him she is lovely... her eyes widen in a way that is different, almost alluring... instead of the unintelligent girls before, the smarts and learning easy to see as she takes in his look. “Thank you master.”
It says it all, even as the entity follows the changing expression, seeing how quickly the girl learns, praising again the luck or the fates which threw such an apt girl into his path, satisfied that she will make a perfect slave, a valuably intelligent one, once she learns the lesson of submission well enough. Large hands stroke gently up her sides as he look into her eyes. Shania shivers at the touch blinking once as her green eyes narrow a bit... still unsure.... her expression unguarded, easy to read.... knowing that she should resist but also wanting to be wanted. Large hands slide up from her sides to cup the firm mounds of her breasts, holding them gently and squeezing rhythmically, nipples covered by hard palms as the smith watches the naive girl’s face tell it's own story.
Shania’s nipples harden fast as a soft moan escapes her pale unadorned lips.... "Ma… master do… do I please you?" still questioning, still uncertain. The blacksmith feels her nipples harden in his palms, rotating calloused hands over them as red eyes look a bit taken aback by the question. With a bit of experimentation, muscles move into an unaccustomed smile as he nods finally, knowing from previous experience that this is the correct response to her question. The young girl smiles shyly.... lowering her eyes... shivering then as the hands massage her full breasts.... thrusting them once again upwards against his hands, making her nipples ache. Seeing her willingness to let him play, showing she is ready for the next step….
The entity's eyes fix on hers encouragingly, touching his finger to her lips, then holding her left breast in one hand, squeezing firmly, holding the mound steady with the nipple protruding, taking the erect teat between finger and thumb and pulling it taut, then the other hand moving.... a sharp pain, near the base of the nipple as a sharp pin drives through, then a click as the heavy gold ring fastens into place. Shania arches abruptly... gasping, her eyes watering as she cries with the sudden pain. The smith waits several minutes, massaging the flesh of her breast and allowing her to experience the pain before breathing a shimmering mist over the breast.
Shania cries....from the pain, or the fear is unknown yet her woman scent is strong as she wiggles underneath the man.... something fragile in her eyes, something that yearns as well. It is apparent as she squirms beneath his touch that she was not at all aware of what the night would bring.
The smith turns the ring several times, admiring the yellow metal against the pink of a nipple held erect by its presence. He lets her feel the tugs upon her sensitive flesh, showing her his pleasure at the decoration. That the understanding she has had to earn this ring will come later and with it another level of her training completed. It shows his pride in the fact that she has done well enough to wear his metal, a metal of power.
It was this metal that brought the town here... that led to his summoning...that led to many of the great craftsmen he employed coming here…how fitting to use it for this purpose, to decorate his slave, to show his pleasure in her. Under his hand the girl shivers with each turn of the ring.... moaning and whimpering, her skin blushing and adding a pale tint of red to her breasts and chest and face. Then he moves his attention to the other breast, aware that she will know what to expect this time. He shows her the ring, its golden hue glittering in the afternoon sun as it streams through the open windows and gaps in the boards. Gripping the firm mound and stretching the nipple up, ignoring her automatic attempt to shrink away as he takes a matching ring and quickly pierces the teat near its base, locking the hoop into place. The gold ring, its diameter as thick as a small sized nail, lies snugly against the lovely breast it adorns. A thick finger rests over her lips as the smith leaves the pain to impress itself on her mind again.
Shania whimpers, tears running down both sides of her cheeks... clenching her lips together, upper teeth showing on her lower lip, not a sound is emitted just as her master has wished….wiggling on the table her hips thrust up.... as if she is waiting to be fucked.... no idea what is coming next. Perhaps a little out of order, but he will adorn her tonight as her ability warrants, and as her mind is willing to accept.
The smith finally breathes over the second nipple, healing it…stopping the pain, then takes a ring in each hand, holding them lightly, and twisting them, turning them through her sensitive teats, tugging on them lightly, moving them around in circles and watching her breasts change shape as they follow the movements. Shania arches up gasping... "No… no... This can’t be ...please master how can ….oh my….OHHHhhhhhhhh" shaking her head, the pale hair whipping about... yet her tummy quivers in a small orgasm.
The man does not stop at all as she quivers, plays as though fascinated, moving the rings about, seemingly unaware that they are not only arousing her but also making her very conscious of their presence, their adornment making her breasts into play things, toys for her owner. Wide lips descend, taking both nipple and ring into a warm mouth, tongue tip hooking the ring and teasing it as he sucks on her teat. In response the girl shudders as she squirms and writhes, now moaning openly her hips grinding against the big blacksmith... "Ohhhhh god noo it… it feels ssoo good ooohh… so different… heavy…”
The entity could hardly be more pleased. The girl is reacting so well to each stage of her conversion to a useful slave. Soon she would acknowledge herself fully owned and be content with her position, eager to please in any way. Not yet, but soon as he counted time.
The smith drew back, looking into hot green eyes with a sparkling expression in his own, heavy cock lying pressed over her mound, and then leaning forward. Almost playfully again, the man lightly slapped her tits, making them quiver, making the heavy rings pull against her nipples as they move from side to side... letting her know how it will feel with every move she makes in future, every step she takes. Shania shakes her head trying to resist this, her eyes frantic... but her body quivering as she rubs herself along the big cock her pussy lips sticky and hot, her heat easy to feel.
Then he moves lower, sliding the heavy cock over her slit as he moves, crouching down eyes level with her pussy, fingers spreading the swollen lips wider, holding them apart, a finger from the other hand lightly stroking her clit, teasing it to full erection. The girl wiggles and squirms as she lifts her head, her eyes at first shifting from one gold nipple ring to the other then looking between the full mounds down at the red inhuman eyes flecked with gold... they seem to be almost smiling at her as the finger arouses her....She pushes her head back, to enjoy the sensation as eyes begin to glaze and the fire builds anew….Arching her back she rotates her hips against the finger….wishing he was in her again.
The finger withdraws from her erect button as the hand holding her lips apart uses finger and thumb to grip her clit near the base, holding it erect. When the original hand returns, there is a sharp, blinding pain, the pin driving through the flesh under her clit, the ring snapping shut, circling her nub and holding it proudly away from her body. Shania screams in the blinding pain struggling hard as she wiggles her hips. The smith breathes much quicker this time, the pain receding almost instantly, only the heavy, slightly uncomfortable feeling remaining, one that no doubt she will grow accustomed too.
Shania is sobbing in shame.... laying still.... something in her sobs not having anything to do with this... deeper, something closer to her core.
The entity's warm breath plays over her pussy as he looks at the ring, counterpart to the other two, moving it around, then letting it lie heavily on her clit. Standing up and looking into her tear-stained face, he brushes the tears away, kissing her softly for the first time ever, eyes showing their approval of her. Shania kisses back hungrily, her small tongue playing over the teeth of the blacksmith’s mouth... seeming talented in kisses ... talented not skilled. The smith draws his head back slowly, looking down into her eyes, trying to judge how far she has moved towards accepting her slavery, how many circles has she earned.
Shania lies still, barely quivering... a joyous glint in her green eyes that wasn’t there just a few minutes before. No longer playing, feeling the reality of her condition…a condition she has begun to embrace fully, without condition or subterfuge.
The blacksmith bends over the small girl tied to the bench, her body stretched over the edge, breasts thrust up each with a thick gold ring through the base of it’s erect nipple. Between her spread thighs another glint of gold from the ring lying against her clit. Deep red eyes flecked with gold stare down appraisingly into wavering green ones as he bends again to softly kiss her lips, the long hard cock laying across her belly at odds with the gentleness of his kiss.
Shania whimpers softly... the shame of what he just did striking deep into her... tearing at the limits of her.... yet the soft kiss on her lips and the way it… he... master looked at her… made her wet with desire... the cool heavy gold tugged on her nipples and laid over her clit, her neck still ringed in iron, a reminder that he owned her. The girl’s tiny tongue slips against his as she softly... hesitantly kisses back.
Slowly he kisses the slender girl… carefully, intent on adding a sense of tenderness to make the slavery more easily accepted, lips brushing softly... trailing down the firm little chin and onto the softly arched throat, exploring the sensitive neck.... a reward for accepting her position. The girl’s neck is pale against the rough, rusted iron band... the collar that weighs heavily around her slim neck... she squirms, a soft lost moan showing her fight to retain some part of herself.
With strong hands the smith grasps the rough collar and opens it wide enough to remove, tossing it aside with a clang. Reaching into the pocket of his discarded apron, he pulls something out; a delicate gold filigree band, inset with precious stones, hinged at the front and with a small lock designed to be hidden by flowing hair.... showing it to the girl, he looks at her questioningly, then looks over to where the metal band fell. Shania gulps.... then slowly leans her head back... tears dripping from her eyes to trail down her soft cheeks... she holds still quivering. “if …if it please master….”
Something sparkles in the red eyes as large hands place the incredibly ancient collar around his slave's neck. Once worn by a queen in Atlantis, it was in no way lessened by the lovely girl it now adorned. With an audible click the lock fastened shut. Shania shudders at the sound crying openly but holding still... a part of her closing away with the snap... yet another slowly opening.
The smith fetches the mirror, forcing the girl to confront herself, not leaving her the ability to pretend to herself, the glass big enough to show the band around her throat, angled so she can see her breasts, and if she lifts her head, even see her own sex, all marked just as his last special slave was, thousands of years before. Shania shivers as her eyes widen, lifting her head to see the glimmer of the gold. "M… master I… I don’t deserve this... I… I can find others that would relish what you offer.... me I… I am scared... so scared.' The entity shakes his head slightly at this questioning of his judgment, taking the left nipple ring and tugging it sharply.
“AAAaaaAAAAAAAA,” Shania arches and whimpers as she nods. "Y… yes master… I… I am yours."
The entity nods slowly back, accepting that response. Then his lips move closer, kissing softly down the neck and over the band, then onto her upper chest, brushing collar bones, then trailing lower, feathering down the base of her cleavage onto her ribs.... moving towards the underside of her left breast and kissing the soft swell more firmly, lips moving around the mound, kissing and nipping while Shania quivers and squirms. Slowly the lips move higher, sucking at the taut flesh, leaving small red marks, eyes looking up towards hers and glowing as the burly man takes an erect nipple between them and sucks it into his mouth, lips closing over the ring as well, the suction pulling on it gently, tongue flicking the tip.
Shania moans as she shudders in an orgasm, her nipples so very sensitive now... more than she could remember.... the warm air of the day rolling in the doors... how long had it been... hours... she came in here a different girl than she was now.... now she was fully a… a… a slave.... her mind finally gripping with it...realizing the number of times she found the leather about her throat, getting ready for this day. Weakly Rationalizing that this was the way to survive and escape, not sure it was anything close to what she wanted anymore, so much had changed in just hours. Soft lips worked over one breast then the other, arousing nipples to hard peaks which strain upwards as though in supplication as the mouth moves lower.... trailing down the soft belly.... over the shaved mount and down to the musky warmth of her excited pussy.... lips finding the distended clit more accessible now, held to prominence by the ring.... closing over it and teasing the band with a rough tongue while sucking the hard nub into a warm mouth. The young girl shudders and wiggles and thrusts against the hot mouth, her pussy tight and wet.... her moans more signifying acceptance and could it be, the hint of enjoyment.... her body more sensual in her writhing... almost arousing.
The smith moves his head away, squatting back on his heels, movement’s quick and certain. Almost before she realizes, there is another sharp pain lancing through her sex, an almost instant healing breath. Then the mouth returns, closing now on a clit adorned with two rings, the second higher up and smaller, not overlapping the first. As his lips move, she realizes the second ring has passed through the hood, the hidden part of it rubbing lightly against her clit with every movement. Shania shudders in an instant orgasm as she whimpers.... "No… no... Oh god I… I am lost a… a slave.... a slave to sex… a sex slave." She thrusts her hips up to her master, quivering. The entity keeps moving over her pussy, sucking and licking her clit, exploring her hole with the tip of a strong tongue, forcing it some way inside to lap her juices, intent on giving her a sense of gentle pleasure as she begins to accept her fate.
Shania shivers from the pleasure... the tease...the rolling orgasm… then softly almost too softly to be heard... "Fu… fuck me master... make me cum ... t… take me anyway you want." The smith looks up, red eyes blazing at the words, then climbs onto the bench, kneeling astride her chest, long thick cock pointing towards her mouth as he presses it down between the firm hillocks of her breasts, thumbs on the nipple rings as he squeezes them around the shaft and begins to slide it back and forth. Shania opens her pale lips; her eyes closed as her tiny tongue wets the lips. Maybe not what she wanted, but it was what he wanted, lesson she would have to learn and learn well.
The smith holds her breasts tight together, thumbing the nipples as his cock slides up between her tits, heavy balls rubbing against her chest, the tip of the head pressing her mouth, trying to fit into it. With a sudden rattle, the door slides open and a large shaggy grey shape slinks in, sniffing her aroused pussy, then rearing up, large paws resting on her thighs as a thick cock forces itself into her cunt. Shania gasps as the thick cock spreads her tight pussy.... the gasp opening her mouth just enough that the BIG head barely forces its way in, her pale plain lips stretched around the shaft just under the head as her tongue swirls over the top.
Patiently he holds his cock still, just the first couple of inches inside the tightly stretched mouth, absorbing the feel of her exploratory tongue as the red-eyed more-than-animal wolf thrusts deeper into her tight little cunt. Then Shania arches up, amazingly lifting the BIG smith and the wolf as she thrusts against the animal, her pussy a hot tight vice as it quivers in an orgasm... her moan vibrating her lips and mouth and deep along the BIG smiths cock.
The entity feels extremely pleased as he gets more reaction than he even dared hope for. Not only is she taking the wolf but also she is responding strongly, her buried sexuality becoming very strong in her now. Soon it will overpower her mental resistance and she will be happy to keep her Master happy, fearing only to be set aside, her body abandoned.
More and more he remembers Atlantis and the lost queen. So different in appearance and yet so similar in her responses.
The smith moves very slowly, his shaft caressing the young girl’s cleavage, thumbs working over her pouting nipples and cock head moving carefully in and out of her mouth, accustoming her to it's bulk in there. Meanwhile the wolf's cock thrusts deep, popping through her cervix as it begins to fuck hard, paws scrabbling for grip on smooth thighs. Shania falls back weakly, the wolf’s thrusts shaking her small body as her pussy quivers and spasms, the ribs along the walls teasing the wolf as it thrusts... her mouth slowing as her tongue lazily swirls over the cock ... the ache in her jaws hinted by the muscles quivering along her cheeks each time the BIG head slides in.
Patiently the entity contents himself with allowing the girl to arouse him, keeping the cock head moving between her lips, taking it slowly in contrast to the furious battering the wolf is giving her, it's thick cock stretching pink walls and pistoning in and out with savage thrusts. It is important she learns to give pleasure as well as accept being used. Shania orgasms again then again her moans sending little vibrations into the head and shaft as she begins to suck, her tongue a slow tease under the hood of the head as it stops.... her body paling as she gets a small bluish tint to her skin... barely breathing as she slowly learns how to suck a cock. The smith pulls his cock back slightly, allowing it to move freer between the taut flesh of her breasts, sliding faster in the confined space, slipping in her perspiration and holding the nipples tighter as the wolf snorts and growls in approaching orgasm.
Shania moans softly weakly still orgasming, her face partly covered by her pale hair as she weakly squirms. "Ma… master I… I’m so hot and tired... I… I’m cumming so much... Never felt like this... a… a freedom…"
The entity moves his cock back to her mouth; its head deep red, swollen, and barely fitting between her lips, stroking the shaft now as he holds it in place. With a loud growl, the wolf cock explodes in the tight channel of her cunt, spurting cum up into her womb, rocking the small body with its uncoordinated jerks. Seconds later the cock in her mouth also swells and erupts, thick cum showering into her throat, jetting hard. Shania gags at first the cum slipping from her lips then she swallows and swallows... choking on how fast it fills her throat and mouth... her pussy quivering in another orgasm as it squeezes and milks the wolf’s cock.
Even while enjoying her body through the smith and the wolf, the entity assesses her words.... cumming so much.... is that the key to taking away the last of her resistance? Well, something can be arranged.... when she had recovered her strength....
As the wolf pulls out with a slurping sound, slinking away as quietly as it had entered, the smith's cock slows it's emissions, gradually fading away to nothing, though he still holds the head against her mouth even after he has finished his orgasm. Shania licks her lips trying to get the cum that slipped out, then leans to kiss the head, her tongue pushing into the hole in its tip to get the last of the cum.
The blacksmith moves away at last, freeing the girl from her bonds and carrying her weak body back to the familiar house and placing her on her feet, then sitting on the couch. Without prompting, she slides to her kneeling position, swaying a bit but almost perfect... her shoulders a bit wrong her head not exact. With firm gestures, the blacksmith corrects her position and watches. Watches as she feels the weight tugging on her sensitive tits and clit….watches as she holds the position, ready to accept any thing he wants.
The smell of food permeates the room…He hears the growl of her stomach as the cook makes the meal and lays out the table. Still he leaves her kneeling beside him for half an hour, making sure she understands he controls all things, then he gestures to the cook….cups her face in his hands and points it to the erect member and waits to see her response…..
“Master, how would you like me to please you….how do you wish me to take the cook?” Yes intelligence is behind those green eyes, trainable this one, trainable to the highest level of the arts. He gestures to her to lay back upon the table with her food…cook following closely, moving over her, hands playing with the new rings as well….that she moans and wiggles under him, trying to seduce, to please him….The cook is not one for finesse, a simple thrusting motion as she bounces on the table, her tits swaying upon her torso. It doesn’t take long, his own cock soon slack between his legs as he leaves. Shania jumps from the table and scampers to the Smith’s feet, falling back into the position of a slave, waiting for instructions. He watches, she has learned well, pleasing the cook for the fine meal, but not partaking until given leave….yes, a rare find this one, much better than this morning.
Then with gestures he directs his slave to go and feed herself. Returning shortly to kneel beside him again, no thought of running at present, the girl waits. After another time that must have seemed endless the smith gestures again to the exhausted girl, allowing her to crawl onto the couch beside him, placing her head on his lap and curling up as she falls into a deep sleep. Having no need to rest himself, the entity watches through that part of him that is manifested as the smith, looking down at the little figure, slightly amazed by her strength, her ability to take everything he threw at her. The minions would bring back the blanket to keep her warm, the clothes that she would were in training tomorrow. That she finds security and happiness in his arms a great beginning…how many others were rigid and terrified when he held them?
Another test would be forthcoming soon, another examination of her sexual stamina.... and one more way to break any remaining resistance in an orgasmic haze that she would never forget.... then.... then soon she would find herself confronting his full form... and she would either take him and be possessed totally.... or she would die trying. For now she could rest.
Shania is surrounded by the fire... chasing her... the screams of her family... the animals… her nightmare... forcing whimpers as she curls herself into a ball sobbing silently.... the fire burning... then the red gold eyes... Then fire still around... Turning unaccountably to water... People screaming as they drowned.... the buildings falling...but this time thousands perish…the lines of energy going strangely absent as the water cascades over them all….Yet she stands, alone now, and the air itself begins to hum….hum as the light blue lines build about her and sparkle on their own accord. She watches in paralyzed horror as they seem to tighten about her…attracted to the cold, sparks fly and pain hits her nerves setting them on fire. Confronts then the swirling blue keeping the pain at bay… The beast within growls loudly, taking over allowing her eyes to watch as it bends the icy blue to its will, her will. No longer does the burning cold affect her, as finger tips play at its edges watching as the energy seems drawn to her….filling her then leaving ….Lines of power reappear before her eyes. She can see through the hazy walls of the house, see the power cascading down the street. Stretching out, she breaths deeply and relaxes…relaxes in the lap of a shadow called The Smith.
The entity doesn't really understand human emotions such as love, pride, and affection. If he did he would probably feel at least proud of his slave and maybe a degree of affection towards her. Certainly he feels pleased, pleased to be so close to owning such a valuable possession, pleased that his desires can be met in her delicate body, pleased that he can start planning again, the long wait almost over.
He must prepare, and set himself to the task that will have all ready for her first visit to him, thinking about that night….It happens then, feels the wrenching jolt of power through the nexus point in the center of his cavern, Startled he looks about seeing nothing. Then casting a wider look, noting that the energy flows stronger now, the simple sputtering trickle that has kept him alive all these years flowing slightly stronger. Yet nothing has changed. The girl sleeps peacefully upon the sofa, his minion watching over her. He will have to watch this closely; perhaps one of his own race is nearby, sensing his weakness just as he has finally begun to feed again.
Tossing and turning upon the disheveled sheets the dreams came again. Fire blazed from a hundred torches, sprouted from the iron barrels punching red gapping holes in men and beasts alike. The flames licked at her flesh, pain as the heat tore along her nerves, consuming pieces of her, marking her. The voices receded the noise going away as she slipped along the rock walls of her prison and felt the pain of the fire race along her damaged skin. Why do they not finish her….do they not see she yet lives? Happily, she hides, waiting for another day another chance to strike back at them all. They are a race of slaves, without her they will amount to nothing. The dream slows and stops…breathing heavy and slow as she relaxes even further into the coolness of the night.

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