tagErotic HorrorAll Hallow's Wish

All Hallow's Wish


Mari could not be lost. She took this track so many times she could follow it with her eyes shut. In fact, she had come home so close to dawn a few times that her eyes had been closed more often than open. The moon had traveled two thumbs widths since she'd left Trent's home, and it never took her more than one. The moon was dark, but stars provided enough light to see the well-worn path, which was as familiar to her as the insides of her eyelids. Just off the path, though, she didn't recognize anything that she could see. She could not be lost, and yet she was.

Sighing, Mari strained to see what lie just beyond the range of her vision. After a few minutes of searching she saw a large pine tree she recognized, but it would be much farther into the woods than the track she was on. Should be on. She must have stumbled onto one of the side paths without noticing, her mind still too caught up in the sweet memories of Trent and what they had just shared. If she was where she thought she was, it would be dangerous to try to make it home tonight. The pine tree would have a comfortable layer of needles to cushion her from the forest floor, and the low hanging branches would provide protection from the wind and the rain, should she be so unlucky.

It wouldn't be the first time she had spent the night out of doors. That was why she always went to Trent's home, rather than he to hers. Since Mari was a small girl she had been known for her odd ways, sneaking away from home to be alone, preferring the company of nature and animals to that of her peers. More than once she had been caught by nightfall and found the next morning, surrounded by the flower garlands and herbal bunches that had distracted her from the coming darkness. While she had learned to present a more acceptable face to the village, inspired in no small part by the whispers between the old women and the priests, her parents would not be surprised or suspicious to find her bed empty in the morning.

There was another reason for the arrangement, of course. Were Trent to be caught in her bed he would be publicly flogged and exiled; if she were caught in his, however, he would be forced to marry her. Mari gave a little snort of contempt as she gathered the pine boughs around her, her fingers automatically weaving the little needles into a ring. She and Trent would already be married if her parents weren't so old fashioned. Nearly all the girls in the village were married by sixteen. But Mari's parents came from the Old World before she was born, where tradition dictated a maid may not marry until after the Christ's Mass following her eighteenth birthday. Although she had been eighteen for over four moons already, it would be another two moons still before she would be allowed to wed Trent. Mari was practically an old maid among those peers she had so carefully avoided as a child.

If only her parents knew...

Settled in and wrapped warmly in a blanket of fresh smelling pine, Mari let her mind drift back to tonight's encounter. It had been brief as Trent needed to rise at dawn to accompany his father into the big town for supplies. But tonight they went as far as they had ever dared to go before. Mari wrapped herself in the memory like a gown of the softest silk.

Trent had been asleep when she came in through the open window above his bed, or at least he had been pretending to be asleep, which suited Mari just fine. Without a word she had wrapped herself around him and let her hands wander across his shirtless chest. Though just eighteen himself, Trent was as big and strong as any of the men in the village, and touching him sent shivers through her whole body. After several minutes Mari had grown bold, her hands slipping down below Trent's unbelted waist. She had teased him, groping his thighs and belly while carefully avoiding his increasingly larger manhood. He had groaned, eyes still closed and rolled to his back. His chest glimmering in the faint starlight had been irresistible to Mari. She had kissed his neck, working her way lower and lower until her lips took over the job her hands had been doing moments before.

She had touched him before, even enough to satisfy his need, but tonight she had wanted more. She had wanted all of him. So in one swift movement, before she could talk herself out of it, she took all of him into her mouth. The taste was sweet and salty, and the bulk of his manness brought tears to her eyes as a shudder went through his body. His hands had tangled themselves in her hair as she had slowly worked her mouth up and down the length of him, slowly at first, then gaining speed until she could feel he was nearly at his climax. And then she stopped. Another groan erupted from Trent, and she had stopped it with a kiss.

"You'll wake your parents," she had whispered hoarsely, her passion making her breath ragged.

"I don't care. I would marry you tonight in this bed. Especially if you do THAT again," he had replied, though quietly and with obvious satisfaction.

And then he had taken over, unlacing her blouse with nimble fingers and removing her loose clothing with ease. Left in just her bloomers, Mari's nipples had stood out in the night air, but Trent soon took care of that, covering one with his mouth and crushing the other with his hand. He had taken his time, leaving no inch of her skin unkissed and working his way down with the same maddening slowness she had just used against him. He seemed to hesitate at the top of her bloomers, and Mari was nearly wild with passion.

"It's okay," she had told him. "They won't know." Another of the Old World traditions her parents insisted on was having a midwife inspect their daughter previous to her nuptials. This and only this had prevented Mari and Trent from allowing their passion to overwhelm them. Trent's parents were well off, but his father expected him to earn his keep. Without Mari's dowry, which would be forfeit if they did not follow her parents' rules, it would take them a long time to be able to make a home for themselves. And they very much wanted a place to call their own.

Encouraged by her words, Trent had lowered her bloomers and began kissing just above the fuzz that marked her womanhood. As he became more bold, it was Mari's turn to groan, causing Trent to chuckle. A pillow over her face had allowed Mari to express her longing without risking discovery. Trent's tongue had been everywhere. Mari had touched her secret spot before, as had Trent, but the feelings she felt this time swelled up within her like a wave, threatening to crash and drown her pleasure.

Then his tongue slipped inside her and she had gasped. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?" he had asked worriedly. There would be pain, Mari knew, if they had gone too far. She assisted the midwife from time to time, helping prepare herbs and brews, and the old woman had been frank and honest about the workings between men and women. Whether she was trying to help or frighten Mari was unclear, but Mari was grateful for the information either way.

"No," Mari had whispered back once she caught her breath. "It feels wonderful." Emboldened now, Trent had gone straight back to business, caressing, stabbing and sucking until Mari thought she would burst. And then she did. Had it not been for the pillow over her face she would have screamed with her delight. Her body shuddered and leapt off the bed. Trent had held her legs until the shaking stopped, and then he was on her, his manhood pressed into her stomach like a sword. They moved together, their bodies slipping over each other, pressing and rubbing, until Mari had felt a stickiness between them and felt Trent tremble as he satisfied his need.

For a long time they had lain together, breathing as one, not daring to break the spell of their intimacy. At last, Trent had whispered into her ear, "Let's run away. I can apprentice as a blacksmith in the big city. It won't be much but at least we'll be together." There was need in his voice, a longing not just for Mari's body, but for all of her. And she wanted so badly to give it to him.

"You would never be happy," she reminded him, rolling out from under him and searching for her clothes. "You are an artist. Here you have the freedom to work. An apprenticeship in the big city would be little more than slavery for you. I could not do that to you. Besides, it's just two moons until my the Christ's Mass. And we have the nights..."

"Yes," he conceded, watching her dress. "We have the nights."

Mari had sensed he wanted to say more, but there was nothing to say. She would not let him sacrifice his dreams to spare her a few months more in her parents' house. So she had kissed him and slipped out the window, ignoring his pleas to let him walk her home. Now she wished she had taken him up on that offer.

Mari snuggled deeper into the pine, tasting Trent on her lips and willing herself to sleep.

Then a light caught her eye. This far out into the woods and so late at night there shouldn't be anyone around. Of course, Mari was here, but that was by accident. As she squinted through the pine boughs she could see the light was moving, so it must be a lantern of some kind. There was no way whoever it was could see her, hidden as she was. She was safe. Yet her curiosity was getting the better of her. Against her own good reason, she left her nest and followed the light, determined to find out what was going on without being seen herself.

Slipping from tree to tree on the silence of practiced feet, Mari made her way toward the light. As she approached she saw there were three lights, not one, each being carried by a person in a cowled robe. Priests? They had secret rituals, she knew, but surely none that involved heading into the deepest part of the woods on the darkest night of the month.

A shudder went through her at that thought. The whispers of the old ladies had not always been a frown upon her odd ways. There were darker things hinted at that had been carried to her in her hiding spot just behind the creamery. Evil things. Mari's curiosity turned to a cold fear in the pit of her stomach, and she turned to retreat into her hiding place.

"So nice of you to join us," said a hooded figure directly in front of her. "We've been waiting for you." And then world went black as Mari slipped to the ground.

When she came to she was in a clearing she did not recognize. A large bonfire burned brightly off to one side, the robed figures on the other. Mari was in the exact center. She tried to sit up, to escape, but she was tied hand and foot. As she looked down to see if she could slip out of her bonds, she cried out. She was dressed in a red gown of expensive muslin, her feet clad in shocking red boots. Who had done this to her? Why?

Not sure she wanted the answer, but too afraid to simply lie still, she called out "Who are you? What do you want from me?"

The tall man who had surprised her in the woods stepped forward. She could see in the light of the fire that he wore a mask carved with intricate designs, and the sight of them sent a lance of fear down her spine. "It is not what we want from you, Mariella, but what we want for you."

The sensuousness of his voice surprised her nearly as much as the fact that he knew her name. She had expected a rough, angry voice, but this man's voice made her feel the same way that Trent's caresses did, and she blushed at the heat that went through her secret area.

"Who are you?" she demanded again, determined to hide both her fear and the arousal she felt.

"Friends," he said simply. "We've been watching you. We know your desires. We can offer you everything you want, for just a small price," he added with a slight sneer.

Questions rose in Mari's mind, but all she could manage to whisper was "What?"

"A small thing. You won't even miss it." He was close to her now, kneeling beside her with his hand casually brushing along her midriff. "You can take your time to decide."

Then he kissed her, the rough wood of the mask digging in around her nose and cheek. Mari tried to resist, she held her breath, thought about Trent. But it was too overpowering, and she succumbed to it. Her lips parted and the strangers tongue found hers. He tasted of cloves and wine and something that seemed to slip past her memory, something she should know.

I'm a prisoner, she told herself, I have no choice. But her body betrayed her. As the stranger's lips passed down around her throat she groaned aloud, his touch sending sparks through her body in a way Trent's never had.

"Yes," he said, soothing, enticing.

"Yes," she whispered back, tears stinging her eyes at her betrayal.

The others formed a semicircle around the pair, trapping them between themselves and the fire. There were more now. When had they appeared? Mari tried to remember, but there was no room in her mind for anything except the strangers hands on her body, his lips on her skin.

One of the group approached, and Mari realized it was a woman. Though garbed exactly the same as all the others, the way she walked shouted her femininity. She was holding what appeared to be a metal cross, but there was something wrong about it. As Mari tried to concentrate, to focus her mind, she realized the cross was upside down, and the end of it tapered into a knife blade.

Beautiful, she thought. No, evil. But beautiful too. But as the woman raised the cross knife over her head as if to strike down at Mari, pure terror sliced through all her drowsy musings. Before she could react, however, the stranger was there, kissing her again, and the world melted into a calm lustfulness as his tongue caressed hers, that strange taste filling her entire world.

"You won't run, Mariella." It wasn't a command, but not a question, either. This strange man simply knew her mind, knew that she was powerless over her own body so long as the taste of him was on her.

He released her, and the woman plunged the cold metal down, somehow slicing her bonds without touching Mari or the beautiful dress at all. Then she moved closer, and more carefully cut through the ropes around Mari's wrists. She was free, yet trapped nevertheless.

"Eat now, and drink." The stranger offered her a platter of fruits from seemingly out of nowhere, fruits that had been out of season for two moons. Mari bit into one, its juices running down her chin and onto her bosom, where the stranger licked them off, causing Mari sigh in contented ecstasy. He offered her a cup then, a strange metal cup bearing the same type of markings as his mask. Mari took it and drank thirstily. She started to put the cup down, but the stranger held it up again, and Mari emptied it.

The others moved then, tightening the half circle around them, chanting in some language Mari could not understand. The sound moved her the same way the strangers voice did, a guilty wetness growing in her secret area. Her head swam. Her body tingled. And that taste...

A half-memory floated up to Mari. The old midwife asking her to retrieve a jar of herbs from a secret drawer. A woman had been laboring for two days, the baby surely dead within her. "This will calm her, help her forget," she had told Mari. The scent of it was now the taste on Mari's lips. Hawthorn root. A forbidden herb.

Three other women approached and knelt beside Mari. She did not need to see them walk to guess their sex. Their robes were open at the throat, revealing slick, naked bodies. They began pulling at the intricate ribbons holding the dress together, all the while touching, soothing, kissing. At last the dress slid open, and Mari's own naked body was exposed. The night air should have been cool, despite the bonfire, yet she felt warm.

Two of the women each took one of Mari's breasts into her mouth. She could not have imagined such an act between two women before this night, yet it felt like the most right thing in the world as they licked and sucked and bit her hard, protruding nipples. The other woman moved down between Mari's legs, her mouth performing a far more complicated and satisfying version of the act Trent had tested for the first time this very night. The wave rose within her as the women continued their magical manipulation of her body, and when it crashed over her they did not let up. Over and over again her body thrashed with pleasure. She cried out, half begging them to stop and half begging them to never stop. Slowly, their ministrations slowed, and Mari felt her body calming, the tingling pleasure lingering on her breasts and between her legs.

The stranger was there again, stroking her damp hair back from her eyes, his lips barely brushing hers, breathing into her ear. "Do you know what day this is, Mariella?"

What were days? She couldn't remember anything other than the play of skin against skin, the shameless desire for more. Slowly, it came to her. "October the thirty-first."

"All Hallow's Eve," he agreed, pleased with her. "We have waited many turnings of the seasons for the dark of the moon to fall on this night. We just need one more thing to make it complete. Will you give it to me?"

"Anything," she breathed. "Anything for you."

He grinned, an almost demonic look temporarily coloring his eyes, then his sensuous smile reappeared. Another man stepped forward, robe open to reveal a hard and throbbing manhood. Mari wanted it. No, she needed it. The stranger moved down, his hands caressing her everywhere at once: her breasts, her toes, her stomach. The new man stepped over Mari and knelt. She reached for him and brought him into her mouth slowly, wanting to savor every moment, every taste. She moved her lips up and down his shaft, her tongue contorting around it as she went. She pulled back and licked furiously at the head of the thing, causing it to bounce upon her lips, then it was in her again, thrusting until she could barley breathe. A hot, sticky saltiness filled her mouth and throat as the man shuddered over her. He removed himself and rejoined the group.

The stranger was still caressing her, looking at her expectantly.

"More?" she whispered lustily. He chuckled, and another man approached. He was not as big as the first man, and Mari took all of him into her mouth at once, reveling in the power she held over him. She teased him, stopping just past the tip of his manhood, again and again, until he arched himself back and forced his way into her, stopping just short of the back of her throat, his seed spilling into her all at once. She swallowed while his was still inside her, coaxing the last drop into her, a warm feeling spreading through her.

The man stood up shakily, making his way back to the group while another approached. Mari was as drunk on her lust now as on the herbed wine she had drunk. As the next person took position over her, Mari found herself pleased that it was a woman. Her mouth dove into the task, tasting what she had often smelled on her own fingers late at night. In and out her tongue darted, around and around. She wanted to drown in the taste and feel of the woman's secret place around her. All too soon, the woman cried out, followed by a long, low groan, and it was over.

One by one all the rest came to her. Lastly was the woman who had slashed her bonds. She was much older than her strong and confident gait had implied. Her flesh was loose around her secret area, her taste stronger and sweeter than any before. She did not yield as easily as the others, either. Mari was thrilled. Taking her time, she explored the woman, tasting, sucking, tickling, her own desire flowing out into the woman above her. When at last it was done the woman leaned down and kissed her, something none of the others had done. Mari tasted power there on her lips, even as the old woman tasted herself on Mari.

As the old woman retreated into the group of robed figures around her, Mari became aware of the stranger again. He was standing now at her feet, his robe discarded and his body gleaming in the firelight. The chanting grew louder, filling Mari with its rhythm.

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