A Little Superstition

Behind his mask, the man's eyes bulged, but in a few moments, his cock was jerking and twitching inside of her, unable to resist the punishing pace she'd set. He gasped for air as he exploded inside of her pussy, his hot seed flooding her already soaked channel.

The sensation of the man coming inside of her knocked Magda out of her anger. She ground her cunt against him to milk the last of his seed from his emptied balls, then felt hands on her arms. She was manhandled off the wilting cock by a pair of men, each eager to be the one she would ride next.

"I got next bro," said one, who wore a mask fashioned into a snarling wolf.

"Nah, I got next," replied the other, the scales of his fish head mask glinting silver in the torchlight.

The man in the snake mask settled the matter. "Don't bother taking turns, you fools," he said. "Use the bitch together."

Magda wondered at the hierarchy among the Bonesmen as fish-head laid down in the sand and pulled her on top of him reverse-cowgirl. There were masked men of all ages in the temple chamber, ranging from toned, ripped college kids to what she assumed were older alumni. It seemed that several generations of the Skull and Bones were represented at the gathering tonight.

Fish-head pressed a hand into the small of her back to brace Magda, then took his dick in his fist and guided it towards her hole. When she realized exactly which hole he intended, her eyes bugged.

"That's an exit, not an entrance-" she started to protest, but he was already slipping inside of her, his tip pushing apart the tight clench of her anus. She'd already been lubed by the oil, and his cock slid in a few inches easier than she expected it would.

"Relax and take it," fish-mask encouraged her. Magda tried, but her instinct was to resist.

"Stop trying to shit out my dick, you dumb Spanish cunt!" the man growled, taking a firm hold of the flare of Magda's hips and ramming his cock upwards. She wailed at the intense mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Where is he, girlie?" the man with the snarling-wolf mask asked.

"H-he's in my ass," she trembled her reply.

"Fuck yeah he is."

Wolf-mask knelt between his compatriot's legs and pushed Magda's knees apart. He slapped his cock against her cunt, rubbing it up and down her slit a few times before pushing it in.

Oh fuck. Magda had never taken two men inside of her at once, and she felt deliciously full. She felt like they were going to split her apart, and she struggled to maintain her sanity as another orgasm was fucked from her shaking body by the pistoning cocks of the masked Bonesmen.

"Take. It. Slut." Each snarled word was punctuated by a thrust, and lost in the ecstasy, Magda wasn't sure which of the boys were speaking.

Dios. It was so wonderfully humiliating.

"Aieee!" she screamed and wailed as the tide of her orgasm burst inside of her. Her shouts of, 'You're gonna break me!' quickly turned to begging.

"Break me, break me!"

As if they could.

The man fucking her cunt pulled out and exploded all over her body, the force of his climax sending jets which painted her skin from nether lips to the tip of her chin. Heavy drips of cum ran down her pert breasts, puddling in the hollow of her chest.

The man up her ass didn't stop his rutting, and soon another boy straddled her face, slapping his cock against her lips insistently until she opened wide and took him into her mouth. Her only view was the dark thatch of the new boy's pubic hair, so she couldn't see the next man who climbed between her legs and shoved himself roughly inside of her well-lubed pussy.

Shame and humiliation blossomed in the fertile soil of her degradation, but so too did ecstasy. She wanted it hard and rough and mean. Her pussy demanded nothing less. Magda felt the lust rise within her and resisted the sudden urge to bite down on the man fucking her face.

Blood is best, the dark man had told her. But other fluids will suffice should you have no recourse. He'd said the word fluids with distaste, but Magda had been intrigued.

She flexed her jaw slightly and the man in her mouth winced.

"Ah! Careful you stupid slut!" He frowned at her. "You've got some sharp little teeth."

Magda just grinned up at him, and the man shrugged. "I'm close anyway. Open your whore mouth so I can use you like the cumdumpster you are."

It didn't take him long to jerk himself off onto her tongue, and when he stepped away she finally saw who had been fucking her. He wore a mask in the shape of a pig, the snout bristling with dried flowers. Despite the disguise, she would have recognized those sad little eyes of his anywhere.

"Brock?!" she exclaimed as he pumped his cock into her cunt.

"Hey Magda," he said with a shy smile. "I guess you're wondering what I'm doing here, huh?"

Her mind raced even as the sensation of the cocks invading her holes threatened to overwhelm her reason.

Why in the hell is Brock here?

"They needed three girls," he explained, slowing down his pace as he spoke. "We got Mia and Christine, but the third one vanished, and it was my job to find a last-minute replacement. I came up with the whole 'missing girl' bit and the ad in the Yale Daily."

Holy shit. And the bastard had the audacity to sound pleased with himself.

"It was super important they have a third girl," Brock said. "Three is a special number when it comes to these sorts of things, you know. Just like there are thirteen of us here now."

Magda thought of her abuela's advice for warding off evil. Spit three times.

"So I've heard," she replied, glaring at the brown-haired boy between her legs.

"Aw c'mon Magda, don't be like that," he said in the face of her anger. "You know I like both you and Chris, but this was my chance to get in good with the Skull and Bones. I'm a Bonesman now, can you believe it?" He sounded inordinately content with himself.

Brock was big, dumb, and with a trust fund as deep as the Mariana Trench. Magda was pretty sure those qualities were exactly why social-climbing Christine had picked him in the first place, and for all her cleverness, it seemed that Chris had made a mistake. Brock wasn't quite as guileless as he seemed.

"C'mon," he said, beginning to stand up with the intent of pulling her off the cock embedded in her ass. "I wanna cum on your face while you make out with Chris."

"I bet you do, big guy," Magda said, working her hips and swallowing the cocks invading both her holes. She grabbed Brock by the shoulders and held him inside of her with surprising strength. "But how about you just concentrate on me for now. Don't you think I look pretty, getting double-stuffed?"

***

Hours and countless spurting, squirting orgasms later, the three girls knelt in a line in the sand as the man in the snake mask chanted words over a brazier. He held a curved knife in one hand and spoke words in a language that Magda didn't understand.

Both Christine and the other girl, Mia, sat next to Magda with the same placid, doe-eyed looks on their faces. Although naked, they had been completely left out of the gangbang, almost as if the Bonesmen had forgotten they were there.

Magda, on the other hand, was absolutely plastered with drying cum, spit, and god-knew what else. She'd been plowed by so many different cocks that she felt like a merry-go-round the men had all taken turns riding. The black-haired girl had lost track of the depravity she'd been put through. The world had blended into a torrent of ecstatic sensation, warm cum, and the scent of fresh fucking.

Still, she felt energized rather than exhausted.

Finally, when all the men had spent themselves upon or within her willing female flesh, the Bonesmen ordered the girls into a line on their knees and had begun their strange chanting.

Magda got the sense that the ritual was coming to an end, and given the wicked sharpness of the knife and the pliant, cow-like state the other two women were in, she didn't imagine it was going to end pleasantly for them.

Spit three times, querida.

The words of her abuela came to her then as she watched the robe-clad man in the snake mask finish speaking and approach the kneeling women. The firelight flickered like gold on the edge of the knife he held in his hand.

Her poor abuela. She had meant well, but she should have known a little superstition wasn't enough to keep the real darkness at bay. It hadn't worked for Magda two years ago when the dark man had come for her and changed everything, and she was damn sure it wouldn't work now on the Bonesman who was approached across the sand. Through the holes in the mask, Magda could see murder in his eyes, and her thoughts turned to the boy who'd betrayed both her and Chris.

Brock, you son of a bitch.

She could almost forgive him selling her out; she was just a townie, after all, and New Haven was filled with disposable girls like her. But Christine? She was one in a million, and the fact that Brock had been willing to sacrifice someone like that on the altar of his own greed irritated the shit out of Magda.

Those thoughts fled as the snake-masked man approached. Magda didn't know what she felt; it wasn't fear exactly. More like anticipation. She'd wanted to know what the ultimate goal of the night would be, what the culmination of the ritual the Skull and Bones performed would require. Now, it seemed she had her answer.

The knife was so sharp that there was barely any pain at all as it slid into her bare chest. Evidently, the man in the snake mask knew his grim business, for Magda felt the blade make its way unerringly toward her heart. She gasped as she felt the cold metal sink deep. She remained on her knees and looked up at him with wide, dark eyes, a wicked parody of the way she'd gazed at the men she'd sucked off earlier as she knelt in the circle of their bristling cocks.

Snake-mask stared at her, perhaps expecting Magda to cry out or slump to the ground. When she did neither, confusion replaced the bloodlust in his eyes.

"Uh," Brock said from the edge of the circle where he watched along with the rest of the Bonesmen. He tugged at his pig-shaped mask. "Shouldn't there be more... blood, or something?"

He seemed disappointed to not be getting the grisly show he'd been promised.

"Don't worry," said Magda, rising to her feet and pulling the knife from her chest. The weapon made a horrid sucking noise as she tugged it free. "There will be."

She felt her teeth lengthen in her mouth and she smiled a wide, predatory grin. When the man in the snake mask saw her fangs, he took a step back.

"I hear that this room is so deep underground, you could scream as loud as you wanted and no one would ever know," she growled. "Wanna find out?"

"Oh, shit," was all he had time to say, and then she was upon him.

***

Magda sat on the front steps of her shitty apartment smoking a cigarette. Her face, hands, and a large portion of her body was smeared with the drying blood of the Bonesmen from the ritual room, but it was Halloween. Everyone was expected to look a little sketchy tonight.

"Don't worry, it's all fake," she'd said to the staring college kids as she helped Christine and the girl with the braids through the lavish rooms of the mansion. "And these two have had a bit too much to drink, you know how it is amirite? Gotta get 'em home."

With her strength and vigor, it was easy for Magda to manhandle the girls into a cab. After the visit from the dark man two years ago, a lot of things had become easier. Picking up two insensate coeds was a piece of cake for her now.

'Course, she mused as she took a long drag of the cigarette. A lot of things got harder too. Like getting a tan, for one.

Dawn was fast approaching. She'd been able to feel it coming ever since the dark man had changed her. Its presence was a ball of fire that she instinctively knew spelled doom for her and any who were like her. She didn't need some shitty horror movie to tell her that greeting the sunrise would mean her end.

Magda threw the butt in a coffee can on the stoop and rose to her feet, stretching. Christine and the other girl, Mia, were sleeping inside her apartment, and Magda knew that she couldn't be there when they woke. They would have questions of the kind that she wouldn't be able to answer, at least not in the daylight.

That was alright; before he'd left, the dark man had told her it was important to have options. You never knew when you might need another place to wait out the day. There was an abandoned warehouse by the West River that would do just fine.

Magda decided to leave figuring out just what the hell she was going to tell the girls as a problem for tomorrow night. Right now, she just wanted to rest.

She looked up at the window of her apartment, beyond which she knew Chris slept safe and sound. Magda smiled.

You did a good thing tonight, she told herself, although she thought the Skull and Bones probably wouldn't agree. The memory of Brock begging for mercy warmed her cold, unliving heart, though she knew there would probably be consequences for her actions. You didn't give an organization like the Skull and Bones a black eye without bracing for a counterpunch.

Before she turned away from the apartment to lope off into the night towards West River, Magda turned and spat three times on the pavement.

Alright abuela, she thought. Maybe a little superstition won't hurt.