A Little Superstition

Magda looked good tonight. That had been an important part of the plan, after all.

Finally, they came to a landing and Spencer stopped. He leaned on the balustrade and looked down at the room spread out beneath them, a satisfied smile on his face. Magda's voice caught in her throat as she stood next to him, her mind struggling to take in the scene arrayed before her.

The room was much larger than she expected. She thought of Hawthorn House above and realized that the footprint of such a place likely took up most of the area underneath the manse's grounds. The chamber was essentially a cavern, consisting of mostly rough-hewn stone walls and a smoothly polished stone floor.

Flickering images were projected on the chiseled walls of the chamber. They changed every few moments, alternating unpredictably. Magda saw an inverted cross, some kind of burning shrub, and a stuffed fox with a sprig of berries clutched in its mouth all shown in quick succession.

The images were strange and sometimes disturbing, but what drew her attention more than anything was the crowd of people writhing about the cavern floor.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

"I know, right?" Spencer asked, resting his forearms against the banister of the landing and gazing across the sea of naked humanity.

Magda looked out at an orgy of flesh. The sheer amount of people fucking was hard to fathom at first, but gradually she began to pick out details. The light was dim, the illumination provided by the flickering images projected onto the walls augmented by torches set in scones at regular intervals across the cavern.

Her eyes quickly adjusted, and Magda was able to pick out people she recognized. She observed some talking head she'd seen on the news, a political pundit of staunch family values who espoused morality in all things, reaming a squealing coed from behind while he shouted and slapped her ass until it was cherry-red.

Young men and women moved throughout the crowd carrying silver trays filled with champagne flutes. As Magda watched, one of the servers, a young man, was stopped by an older woman with silver hair and a shimmering dress of black silk. She dropped to her knees, pulled aside the flimsy loincloth the man wore, and practically inhaled his cock.

A hunger rose within Magda, and she gave a little involuntary moan. She felt her sex slicken between her legs.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" Spencer asked.

Distracted as she'd been by the spectacle unfolding below her, Magda hadn't realized he'd moved behind her. She felt his breath on her ear, and she shivered. Gooseflesh ran down her arms, and the delicate rosebuds of her nipples stiffened underneath the rough cloth of her peacoat and bra.

"I'll take you to where you're going soon enough," Spencer whispered. "But I like to get a taste of the girls first. Just to make sure I'm delivering top quality; you understand, don't you?"

Oh, I understand, you pig. Still, it was hard for her to maintain her anger when she suddenly felt so damn wet.

"Sure," she breathed, and that was good enough for the blonde man. He reached underneath her peacoat, his fingers hunting the warm moisture between her legs. When he found her pussy soaking, he chuckled. The sound of his laughter was at once humiliating and arousing, and Magda felt a little trickle of her female dew run down her inner thigh.

Ah fuck.

There was a rustling noise as Spencer pulled aside his toga, and when Magda felt the mushroom-like tip of his cock pressing into her folds, she leaned back against him, pressing the firm globes of her ass into his pelvis. He entered her while she watched the orgy below, gasping a little as he pushed into the tightness of her cunt.

"Fuck, you're soaking wet," he grunted. "You want it bad, don't you whore?"

"Yes papi," she moaned. "Give me that thick fucking dick right in my nasty hole."

In response Spencer gripped her hips with his hands and began to fuck her harder, moving to piston his cock deep inside her clutching channel. He ran his hands up her torso under her peacoat, fingers pulling at her stiff nipples through the sheer fabric of her lingerie and massaging the small swells of her breasts.

"You're so cold baby," he said as he felt the chill on her supple flesh. "Let me help you warm up a little."

The Yale man grabbed a handful of her hair and bent her over the balcony's railing, screwing into her hard and fast in full view of any who cared to look up. Magda closed her eyes and let the humiliation wash over her, knowing that as it came, so too would a special kind of feeling that only visited when she was getting properly railed.

Her jacket hung open, flapping gently like a pair of dark wings as Spencer took her roughly from behind. It must have been obstructing his view, for she felt his hands lift the fabric from her back as he pulled the coat off of her.

"What an ass," he said, a note of worshipful awe in his voice.

She felt a stinging slap as he smacked the bronze curve of her rear. He leaned in to trace the muscles of her back and the groove of her spine with his tongue, licking her skin as if she were a meal to be savored.

"Fuck me, daddy," she moaned encouragingly. "Fuck me hard!"

As Spencer began to lean into his thrusts she reached between her legs, fingers rubbing against the hooded pearl of her clit. With his cock sawing into her and her fingertips dancing on her exposed bud, Magda felt the orgasm building within her. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensation.

"Uhh, ah fuck!" Magda cried like an animal in heat.

Her legs trembled as she came, and her pussy clamped down tightly as the pleasure exploded throughout her body. Spencer grunted in happy surprise behind her at the vice-like grip of her drooling love tunnel.

"God you're tight," he said, slapping her bouncing ass as he continued to rut her. "You're a greedy little cock-socket, aren't you?"

"Yes daddy," she purred. "I'm a nasty slut for you. Unf, ugh, oh FUCK!"

As she shrieked her pleasure out across the cavern a few of the participants in the orgy below took note. Drawn by her ecstatic cries, they looked to the balcony and saw Magda, bent over and being reamed from behind by the toga-clad form of Spencer.

She wasn't sure if any of the watchers actually knew the young man, but they pumped their firsts and whooped their encouragement to Spencer all the same. He grinned and waved back without breaking his pace, the sound of his balls slapping against her cunt clearly audible to Magda's ears despite the distant thump of music from the party above and the moans and cries of the orgy below.

"Alright slut," he panted, "get on your knees. It's time to give them something to really cheer about. You want to swallow my load?"

Magda felt his cock pull from the wet socket of her cunt. She turned and fell obediently to her knees.

"Of course," she replied submissively. "I'll eat up anything you need to get out of you."

Magda knew she had her role to play, and finding Christine was well worth a little bit of her dignity. Besides, the thought of this arrogant kid painting her face with jizz to the cheers of a watching crowd excited Magda in a way she hadn't felt for quite some time.

Just when you think you've done it all, she mused as she heard Spenser groan and felt the first hot spray of his seed splatter against her lips and cheek.

"Take it, you stupid townie bitch!" he shouted. "Take all that cum, you dirty whore!"

He wanted to put on a show, so Magda obliged him. She took the root of his cock from his tugging hands and pointed it at her face, making sure the strands of spunk she wanked from him plastered every inch of her pretty features. Her tongue darted out to clean her lips, and when the taste of him exploded in her mouth, Magda felt a little lightheaded.

Fuck. That's delicious.

"Holy shit," Spencer gasped, shaking the last droplets onto Magda's bra-clad chest. "You just about sucked the soul out of me there." He smiled. "Oh yeah, they're gonna love you downstairs."

Magda moved to clean herself up, trying to wipe her face clean of cum as best she could. Spencer made her stop, insisting on taking a picture of her fouled beauty with his phone before he allowed her to finish. She fully expected that the images would make their way around the lacrosse team before the week was through, but she didn't much care.

Now that Magda wasn't overwhelmed by the sight, smell, and sound of the orgy unfolding below, and she was no longer being spitted on the end of Spencer's cock, she noticed the staircase continued to wind its way downwards, heading into flickering torchlight.

"Wait," she said. "By 'downstairs,' you don't mean down there with them, do you?" she nodded to the orgiastic crowd in the cavern below the balcony.

"Nah," Spencer chuckled, shaking his head and tucking his cock back into his toga.. "We've got to go deeper, to the special room." He pointed at the descending stairway lined with flickering torches.

Deeper? Magda balked, eyeing the crowded cavern below the balcony. "There's more to this place? Just how far down did the roots of Hawthorne House sink into the New Haven soil?

"Are you scared?" he asked. He didn't seem to intend cruelty. Perhaps he was genuinely just curious. "Most girls wouldn't want to go down there."

"I'm not most girls."

Plus, you and your shithead friends have got my Christine.

"Yeah, I can see that. Alright, let's go."

***

Magda followed Spencer down the twisting staircase until they came to another landing. It seemed to the dark-haired girl that they'd entered another world, the depravity of Halloween night in New England left behind for something stranger. It was almost sepulchrally quiet at the bottom of the staircase. The only sounds Magda could hear were the crackle of the torches burning in their sconces and Spencer's breathing.

"Here we are," he said, gesturing at the doorway.

The portal was framed by twin pillars of carved limestone. The intricate carvings were painted in gold and topaz, and seemed vaguely Egyptian to Magda, although she certainly didn't consider herself an expert on that kind of thing. The tops of the columns were carved into what looked like stalks of some kind of grass, possibly wheat.

As followed Spencer through the portal into the antechamber beyond, Magda bent closer to inspect the carvings, then recoiled when she saw what they depicted. Men and women with skull-like death's heads were fornicating with beasts while winged demons watched from thrones, rivers of carnelian-colored blood painted flowing around their clawed feet.

The fuck?

The short antechamber was similarly lit and decorated, lined with fluted columns intricately carved with scenes of mayhem and depravity. Spencer watched her reaction eagerly.

"Pretty fucked up, huh?" he said with glee.

"Yeah," she replied, trying to keep her cool. "You could say that."

Damn it, Christine, what the hell have you gotten mixed up in?

"I know, right? And we're so deep down here, you could scream as loud as you wanted and no one would ever know. Anyway, this is it. Guess it's time for you to get to work."

The floor of the torchlit room beyond the antechamber was covered in sand. Three braziers were set up around the room, with thick, sweet-smelling smoke pouring out of their open tops.

A group of naked men clustered around two young women, also fully nude. They looked impatient, shifting from foot to foot as Magda watched with an air of frustrated anticipation.

What are they waiting for? Me?

Her attention went to the naked girls kneeling in the sand before the men. One of the women was a beautiful girl with braids and dark skin the color of polished onyx. The other had a head of flowing chestnut hair, the curls framing a delicate, elfin face spangled by freckles.

Christine.

Her eyes were glassy and oddly vacant, but there was no mistaking Chris. It seemed that at last, Magda had found her friend.

"I come bearing gifts, boys!" Spencer called out as he entered the room. "The third offering has arrived!"

"Finally," muttered one of the waiting men.

"Spencer, get your fucking mask on!" shouted another. He was older, with a pot-belly and a thatch of greying hair covering his chest. "Oil her slutty ass up and bring her down here so we can get started."

Magda saw that he wore a mask of scintillating green in the shape of a serpent. She took a second look around the chamber and noted that all the men seemed to be wearing animal masks of some kind. She spotted dogs, birds, and reptiles, and one which she thought might be a dragon.

"Fine, fine," Spencer grumbled, stripping off his toga and tossing the garment to the side. He reached into an alcove and withdrew a mask shaped like the head of a peacock, complete with a sharp beak and bright blue plumage.

"Alright... what did you say your name was?"

She hadn't but didn't feel like pressing the point. "Magda."

"Alright, Magda. Get naked. I'm gonna grease you up, and then you're gonna get in there, join the other whores, and do what you do best."

He pulled out a bottle of what she assumed was oil from the same alcove, then gave her an expectant look.

Magda gave a mental shrug and started to undress. It wasn't like she hadn't expected it to go like this. She eyed the strange room and the masked men. Well, maybe not exactly like this.

When she was fully naked, Spencer poured glistening oil into his hands and began to spread the liquid over her body. Warmed by his hands the oil felt pleasant on her skin.

"Still so cold Magda?" he noted, working the oil into the most intimate places of her body. "Don't worry, I think you'll be running hot soon enough."

Thoroughly coated in oil, Magda's skin gleamed smooth and bronze in the torchlight. Despite the insanity of the situation, she felt flush with confidence. Now that she knew Christine was alive and within reach, it was as if a burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

All I have to do now is rescue her from a subterranean temple filled with creepy men in masks. How hard could that be?

At Spencer's direction, she stepped towards the group of naked people, her slender limbs sliding across her oil-slick body and making her feel surprisingly sexy. Along with the black-skinned girl, Magda saw that Christine was still staring ahead vapidly, a goofy smile on her face. She shifted in the sands she knelt in, and the sight of her beautiful tits swaying gently was undeniably erotic. Magda felt desire bloom unbidden between her legs.

"The third offering is accepted," said the snake-mask man, tugging his cock to stiffness and eyeing the dark-skinned girl hungrily. His words had a ritualistic tone to them, and once again Magda wondered what exactly the Bonesmen were playing at here.

Magda was pushed down onto her knees on the sandy floor by a man wearing a whiskered mask she thought was supposed to represent a panther. Within moments, she was surrounded by a ring of cocks, angry and hard and throbbing and pointing directly at her face.

She didn't need to be told what to do. Magda ran her hands up and down her chest to gather some of the oil, then reached out, taking a dick in each hand even as she opened her mouth to accept a third.

Magda wrapped her lips around the tip of panther-mask's cock and hollowed her cheeks, swirling her tongue around his mushroom-shaped tip while she sucked. At the same time, she started to stroke the warm male flesh she held in her hands, the oil acting as lubrication for her efforts.

One of the men knelt next pulling up his mask so he could suckle at one of her breasts. She felt the heat of his mouth around her nipple, his teeth sinking a little into her skin as he gave her a love bite. Magda squirmed at the pain but didn't ask him to stop.

"Careful," one of the other men said. "Get your mask back up."

While she stretched her jaw to take more and more of panther-mask's dick into her mouth, Magda wondered at the comment. Did these men want to preserve their anonymity that badly? She'd already seen Spencer's face; what did it matter if she saw the others?

Above the smells of wet cunt and the nutty odor of precum, the sickly-sweet scent of the smoke rolling off the braziers hit Magda's nostrils again. Magda peered through the forest of differently shaped cocks, searching for Christine in the crowd. Her friend's eyes were glassy and vacant.

What's in the smoke? she wondered. She looked closer at the masks and thought she could see small bundles of what looked like dried flowers poking out from a few of the nose holes.

Whatever it was it didn't seem to be affecting her yet, and in truth, Magda wasn't overly worried. These nights, she found that she could hold her breath for a really, really long time.

The thought almost made her laugh, but she immediately sobered when she realized what it meant for the other girls.

Oh hell no, she swore. There was no way she was going to let these fucking entitled Bonesmen drug her friend and some random woman into a gang-fuck.

"Hey," she shouted, looking up at the men surrounding her. "It's me. All of you only want me. Isn't that right? Yeah, all eyes on me."

A tremor passed through the assembled throng of masked men. A few of them shook their heads and blinked, but as one they turned their attention to Magda, leaving the other girls to kneel together unmolested at the edge of the room. The women continued to stare straight ahead, eyes fixed vacantly at some point on the column-covered wall of the chamber.

Shit, I'm glad that worked. The dark man had shown her how to use that particular gift before he'd abandoned her, but she'd never enthralled so many people at once.

Magda returned to sucking panther-mask off with renewed vigor. She would blow her way through these guys, get to Christine, and figure it all out from there. It wasn't a great plan, but it was all she had at the moment.

Magda felt the cock in her mouth twitch against her tongue, and moments later a torrent of hot spunk filled her throat. She gulped greedily, once again savoring the taste and heady smell of semen. The dark-haired girl moaned encouragingly as the man worked his hips, unloading himself into her mouth. At the same time, she heard a grunt from her right, followed by a hot splash of sticky wetness on her shoulder and arm. It seemed that one of the men she'd been stroking off had found his pleasure as well.

"Por favor, dump your loads on me boys," she begged.

"Damn guys, we've got a live one here," another man said, stepping up to take the place of panther-mask and presenting Magda his balls. She obediently slurped them into her mouth, covering them with spit and slobber and pressing her face into the heavy sack of his nuts.

"If you think my mouth is good," she said around a mouthful of testicle, "you should try my pussy. Wanna take me for a ride?"

"Shit yes," the man said. "Sit on my cock, slut."

Magda stood up as the man laid down on the sandy floor, then squatted over his cock. She gripped his base, guiding him into the sodden folds of her cunt as she lowered herself, slowly impaling her pussy on his length.

As she started to buck atop the man, her eyes met Christine's. For a moment it seemed like her chestnut-haired friend might not recognize her, then a slow, silly smile blossomed on her face.

"Oh hi Magda," she said, her voice slow and thick. "What a party, huh?" Her voice was slurred from the effects of whatever billowed from the braziers.

She seems unharmed, at least, Magda thought, but the idea of her friend being used by these men in such a way sparked a flame of rage in her heart. Her hands tightened around the throat of the man she was riding, and she began to work her hips, slamming herself down on his dick with vicious enthusiasm.