Friday 13th

And then every muscle in Jane's body seemed to tense and her legs were forced together even harder, Andy felt as if his brain was coming out of his ears, his head was exploding, his mouth filled with her juices and the pull on the chain increased. For maybe thirty seconds her whole body was rigid until, finally, she collapsed and relaxed back into the chair. Andy was gasping for breath, panting with exhaustion still kneeling before her until Jane lifted her leg off his shoulder and placing her foot firmly in his face, kicked him away. He sprawled across the floor, landing in a heap and lay still for a few moments.

When he looked up from the floor it was to see another pair of feet in front of his face.

"Did you enjoy that, worm?" He was sprawled at the feet of Alice and it was apparent that he was not going to have time to get his breath back before she took her turn with him. "Well, did you?"

"Yes, yes Mistress." Andy thought it best to answer positively.

"Well, you're not going to enjoy what I'm going to do to you. Look up. Look at me." Alice's voice was full of menace.

Andy looked up. She towered over him and stood with her hands on her hips holding her robe open. Jutting from her groin was an enormous dildo. In the flickering firelight he could make out the leather straps which held it in place. His heart sunk as he realised what she was going to do with it.

Roughly Alice bent down and grabbed the wrist cuffs. She then attached them to the chain which still hung from the ceiling, and started to pull. Once again Andy was forced to move as swiftly as possible to minimise the pain as his arms were tugged in directions they were never meant to go. He ended up knelt on the floor, his arms pulled upwards, forcing his head down and his bottom up. Alice removed the cuffs that bound his ankles only to replace them with a bar that held his legs stretched a far apart as they would go. There was no mirror but it didn't take much imagination for Andy to picture in his mind how he must be, upended, presenting his open arse to the world.

Then he felt something cold and slimy slapped into the crack of his buttocks.

"Chicken fat: I thought it appropriate." Alice laughed.

Busy fingers worked the fat into his anus, pushing deep inside. Andy had thought that when he had had his prostrate examined it had been bad but, by comparison, his doctor had been gentle and considerate. Alice, on the other hand was forcing her finger, and the chicken fat, deep inside him whether he wanted it or not and, if her finger was uncomfortable...

Alice wiped her hand on his buttocks and knelt down behind him.

"I'm going to make you scream." She snarled. "The more you scream, the more it turns me on. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress." Andy whimpered.

And then he felt it. Alice leaned forward and the tip of the dildo pushed against his sphincter. He tried desperately to relax, not to fight it, but his nervousness was working against him. Harder and harder the blunt, rounded end of the dildo pushed against him until finally he was open and it was forced inside him. Alice pushed until it was about an inch deep. Andy felt as if he were about to spilt in two; an involuntary groan of pain escaped.

"Is it too big for you?" Alice asked sweetly.

"Please, please, I don't think I can take any more." Andy replied between clenched teeth.

Oh yes you can, and you will!" Alice thrust forward and it felt as if his backside were being raped by a rod of fire. Andy's scream was all that Alice could desire. His whole world was now a ball of pain and he couldn't help but try to pull away but this only meant that the upward tug on his arms increased threatening to dislocate a shoulder. Again and again she thrust into him. Time ceased to have any meaning for Andy, nor was he aware of what he was babbling, pleading, begging. If only she would stop, even for a moment, let him get his breath back and he'd give anything, anything at all if only, if only, if only the agony would cease. The thrusts built up, harder and faster, blurring into one. Alice grasped his hips, digging her long nails in like talons, pulling his buttocks back to meet her.

And then, at last, it was over. The thrusting reached a crescendo; Alice screeched and, with one final deep, deep push, collapsed over the back of him. For a moment she just lay there and then Andy felt her withdraw, the chain was released from his wrists and he collapsed, battered, beaten, and totally broken in a heap on the floor.

For a while the room was silent except for Andy's sobbing. He lay there, in the middle of the floor, bound, beaten and broken, waiting for the next part of the nightmare.

He didn't have to wait long; he felt his wrists being freed, he was rolled onto his back and his wrists were refastened and attached at floor level leaving him stretched full-length in front of the fire. At no point did Andy put up any resistance, all the fight was gone from him, he was theirs to play with; he would do anything, anything at as long as they didn't hurt him any more.

This time it was Lilith who stood astride him. She slipped off her robe and towered over him, statuesque and completely naked apart from the belt around her waist. The flickering light from the fire made her skin appear to glow and Andy knew he had never, ever, seen a woman as beautiful as this before.

"Well, worm. Are you ready for your Goddess?"

"Please, Mistress, I'll do anything you want, anything at all, just please don't hurt me any more."

"Anything at all." Lilith echoed. "Jane took your servitude, Alice took your pain, I'm going to take your manhood. When I've finished you will be mine, you will love only me. I will own you, own your body and your soul."

Lilith knelt down. She unfastened the collar around his balls and took his penis in her long, slender fingers. Andy felt too exhausted, too wracked by pain to be able to achieve an erection but the play of Lilith's fingers was skilful and delicious and soon had him stiffening in response. As soon as he was hard enough she shifted forward and slid him deep inside her.

Andy had never felt more conflicted. Every inch of his body was in pain: his shoulders had been twisted this way and that by the various contortions they had been put through, his body, and especially his buttocks, were covered in wheals from the flogging he had endured and his backside felt like it would never recover from the brutality that Alice had inflicted upon it but, and it was a huge but, he had never felt anything as erotic as the feelings he was getting as Lilith eased her way backwards and forwards with his penis deep, deep inside her.

At first her movements were small as she rocked her hips back and forth, one hand playing with her clitoris as the other massaged her breasts. Gradually she increased the tempo, pushing harder and firmer down on him. Andy, almost without thinking, started to return her thrusts but immediately she leant forward and her hands rested on his chest.

"If you move again" her fingernails dug into his nipples "just the slightest movement and I'll cause you so much pain you'll think Alice was being easy on you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"And don't you dream of coming before I'm ready; this is for my pleasure, not yours."

Lilith, her fingernails still gripping his nipples, started to move up and down. Andy had never felt anything so sensuous, her vagina muscles seemed to grip his penis and he had never felt so large, so engorged. His balls, his poor tortured balls, seemed to swell. He could feel the pressure rising within him; it felt so good, so very, very good. The sheer intensity of the contrasting feelings within him, the pains that wracked his tortured frame and the sexual tension within his prick and balls, was an experience far, far beyond anything he had ever felt before.

Faster and faster she rode him. Her eyes locked on his; her stare locking him down as surely as her body or the chains were. Andy could feel himself starting to come. In desperation he tried to distract himself, to think of anything, anything that would stop him climaxing to early. He thought of the quarterly results for the North West region and how the team weren't going to make much of a bonus this year, he thought of the disastrous match when United had lost by two goals to City, but despite his best efforts he was distracted by the amazing sensations emanating from his groin, how his prick felt as this wonderful woman worked her magic, how the pace, the intensity was increasing, how he couldn't hold out much longer, how he felt as if his whole being was going to explode, how he could feel the muscles of her vagina getting tighter and tighter around him, how...

"Now, worm, now!" Lilith forced herself down on him and simultaneously twisted his nipples. He screamed in a mixture of ecstasy and agony as time after time he ejaculated within her. His whole world centred around his prick, and the joyous release as, still moving firmly, her body pumped him dry, draining him, exhausting him.

Sated at last Lilith leaned forward, her hands moved to his shoulders and her long hair fell forward, touching his face.

"Now you are mine, mine forever. You'll come back, time after time, crawling on your hands and knees, begging to serve; you'll be back when the moon is full."

"Yes, Mistress." Andy replied. His body felt empty; he was washed by waves of fatigue. He had given, no, Lilith had taken, everything he had and he was but a shell. He looked into her eyes, her deep dark eyes and her irises seemed to spin, the room seemed to spin, his world seemed to spin.

"Yes, Mistress." His voice was just a whisper and the world went dark.

It was cold, bitterly cold, and Andy felt frozen to the bone. He reached out for the covers and, finding none, opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying on the floor of a ruined house; by the amount of charred timber around it must have been destroyed in a fire. A cool breeze blew in through the holes where the windows had been and the sunlight streaming through the many holes in the walls and roof heralded a bright spring morning. Dazed and confused, his eyes darted here and there, trying to reconcile the ruin he'd woken to with the house he remembered from last night. It must have been some sort of dream but, if it were a dream, why was his body covered with bruises and why did his arse hurt so much. He stumbled to his feet, every muscle complaining. Swaying slightly he looked around; the burnt remains of three armchairs stood around a stone fireplace and, neatly folded across the arm of one of them were his clothes.

He checked the pockets of his jacket; his wallet, complete with cash and cards, was still there as were his phone and car keys. In fact everything seemed to be there, neatly folded and mercifully bone dry. The only thing missing were his boxer shorts. In their place was a pair of feminine red lacy panties. He picked them up and looked at them. He desperately needed to get dressed, he was freezing and he didn't fancy trying to explain himself if anyone were to see him like this. For a moment he considered going 'commando' but his backside, as well as being sore as hell, felt slimy and sticky and he didn't fancy getting whatever it was that was oozing out of him on his good suit so he slipped the panties on. After all, no one was going to see them.

As he dressed he was made more and more aware of the state of his body. His shoulders ached from the contortions he had been put through; his nipples were so sore that the lightest touch was agony and his body was covered with wheals and bruises.

Once he had finished he stumbled his way back to the car. The conflict between his vivid memories and what he saw continued. The car was neatly parked and bone dry; there was no sign of last night's flooding. He got inside and turned the key in the ignition. It started first time and he wasn't that surprised when the Sat-Nav burst into life as well. He checked himself out in the rear view mirror; he was unshaven and his neck showed signs where the collar had bit into him. Still, there was nothing he could do about it; he fastened his seat belt, wincing as it brushed against his battered nipple, and drove on down the hill.

He'd gone less than a mile or so when he reached a village and, mercifully, an open service station. He pulled onto the forecourt and went inside. To his immense relief they had a coffee machine so he found the necessary change and purchased a cup. The coffee was ghastly but it was hot and sweet and he was beginning to feel alive again.

"Good morning." A teenage girl appeared behind the counter. "Can I get you anything?"

"No thanks. Just the coffee." He replied.

"That's a nice car." She gestured to the forecourt. "Did I see you parked up in Gallows Lane this morning?"

"Err... Yes." Andy thought fast. He didn't want to get caught up in a web of lies but he had to give some explanation. "I got a puncture last night and got stuck. Ended up sleeping in the car."

"Yes, Gallows Lane can be tricky at night, especially that corner by the old manse."

"The old manse?" Andy queried.

"Yes." She replied. "The ruin just before the village. It burnt down ages ago and now there's all sort of stories about it."

"Stories? What kind of stories?"

"Oh, you know what these villages are like." She continued, laughing. "It's supposed to be haunted. Strange lights in the windows at night; that sort of thing."

"Haunted?" Andy echoed.

"Yeah, silly, isn't it. I mean, who believes in ghosts nowadays?" She gave him a long hard stare. Andy suddenly wondered if she knew exactly what being parked up by the manse all night meant; were the marks on his neck obvious? She relaxed and smiled. "If you're interested, there's a bit about it in the village guide book. It's only five pounds and the profits go to the kiddies' hospital."

She reached for a slim booklet and held it out to him. Intrigued Andy found a fiver and handed it over. Another customer came into the shop distracting the girl, so he had time to flick through it as he sipped his coffee. Mostly it was blurry photographs of local beauty spots and suggested walks across the fells but there were a couple of paragraphs about the manse. Apparently it had burnt down in 1987 killing Lady Lily Woolthorpe and her sisters, Alice and Jane. There was an accompanying photo showing three middle aged ladies in fifties clothes standing on the front steps. The quality was not good and it was difficult to see the details but it was obvious that the women were tall, thin and dark. Andy stared at the photo; if the women had been middle aged in the fifties they must have been quite elderly in the eighties. The women he had met last night, although he wouldn't dare guess their age, had been anything but elderly. It was just another contradiction to add to the list.

Andy finished his coffee and, waving goodbye to the girl, went back outside to his car. For a moment or two he sat in the driver's seat, looking again at the photo. Was last night real or a dream? Common sense told him it was a dream but the aches and bruises all over his battered body told him otherwise. Shrugging off his thoughts he opened the glove compartment to put the booklet away but as he did so he noticed a black leather strap inside; one that had certainly not been there before. He pulled it out and looked at it. If it wasn't the collar he'd worn last night it was certainly very like it. There was a label attached to it and on the label, in fine copper plate handwriting

You're mine now, worm.

Come back when the moon is full.

Thoughtfully he turned the collar over in his hands. He remembered the feeling of suffocation as Jane had crushed his head between her thighs; the sheer agony as Alice had analy raped him with her strap-on, but most of all he remembered Lilith (Lily?) and how good it had felt as she had used his body. In comparison to her all the girls he had ever had had been just that, girls, but Lilith was all woman and deep down he knew he would never, ever, desire another woman the way he desired her. Last night may have hurt; indeed most of him still hurt, but it had still been the most intensely erotic experience of his life.

He rummaged in the glove compartment where he knew there was a cheap diary which he had been given as a freebie by one of his clients. Sure enough it showed the phases of the moon and, as he was beginning to suspect, last night had not only been Friday the 13th but a full moon as well. He flicked through the pages; in four weeks time it would be full again. An image formed in his mind; he was kneeling before the three women wearing nothing but the collar and the red panties, ready to serve, ready to be used.

Would he be back? He looked at the collar lying on the passenger seat, his collar, the one he knew he had to wear again. But really, who believes in ghosts nowadays?