Debauchery Falls Ch. 05

*** Disclaimer ***

The following story may contain themes of hypnosis, mind control, non-consent, paranormal, cheating, cuckoldry, voyeurism, incest, gang bangs, and other forms of debauchery. This may not be the story for you.

This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Debauchery Falls chapter 05

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BEFORE THE EXPLOSION...

Halley was reading the computer screen and jotting notes. She'd been scrolling through the names of the missing town's people, and cross checking them via social media, looking for any kind of recent activity that might let her know their status.

Currently, a cherub-faced bottle blonde by the name of Elizabeth Pierson, age 19. "Lizzy" to her friends. Apparently the girl was bored of rural life, as indicated by the constant photos that cried out for attention. Selfie after selfie-- most of them displaying her impressive cleavage-- dominated the screen. Barely an original thought in this girl's head. She was a total attention whore who posted an average of three or four times a day. But suddenly she'd gone media dark at about the same time as the rest of the town. Odd.

Halley scribbled some notes, glanced at her watch, and sighed.

"Check in time," she spoke into her radio. "Lincoln?"

The woman's voice was immediate. "Standing by."

"Poe?"

No response.

She frowned and tried again. Dead air. The same result when she tried to call Chaney.

Halley bristled. A town had gone totally missing, and now so too had two of her men. Maybe she was being overly paranoid, but she wasn't willing to take any chances.

"Lincoln, do you want to check that out? It seems a cat got their tongue," Halley said.

"Roger that," Lincoln answered back.

Halley gave her the last location-- mostly just a rough estimate. But if anyone could locate them, it'd be Lincoln.

"I'll meet her over there," Captain Graver chimed in, having overheard.

"Do you need us, Captain?" Brubaker asked.

"Negative, stay with the camp. We won't be long."

"Should we be worried?" Jessup turned to Halley.

She hesitated. "It's probably nothing," she responded.

***

Britt Lincoln had been creeping her way through the two-story on Beach Street when she'd gotten the call from the boss lady. Good thing too. Her tracking had thoroughly creeped her out.

After the incident with the siblings fornicating in the mud, Lincoln had sought her own answers-- mostly to prove to herself that she wasn't crazy. That she really *had* witnessed that, and furthermore, the group of hooded spectators that had been watching from the dugouts. Both had up and disappeared like phantoms, after the perverse act had concluded.

But Lincoln found herself genuinely alarmed by the lack of clear tracks or evidence. She located the spot where they'd mated just fine. The mud jumbled up into a mess of handprints, knee prints, feet and limbs. However, where they'd gone after that was impossible to tell. It was like they'd up and vanished.

The dugouts were even more peculiar. No tracks in or out. A dozen men-- ones hardly dressed as ninjas at that, encumbered by bulky clothes-- and not a single trace? It wasn't unheard of. The rain could have easily washed away any sign of their movements, but so quickly?

Oddly though, Lincoln's exploration had uncovered the route that the sinful siblings had arrived at the field from-- right up to the front door of a well maintained two story, that (despite the depressed little valley) hinted at wealth. Every town needed a doctor, she supposed.

Lincoln had found the door frame splintered, and the door opened with just a soft nudge. Not a good sign. Neither was the signs of disturbance. Overturned chairs, broken glass. She eyed the family photos on the wall and noted that the two she'd seen in the field going at it like bunnies indeed were siblings, not just a pair of weirdoes roleplaying a kink. Seeing them in photos as clean cut, wholesome, well bred and well mannered twins that they were made the memory of them plowing each other in that muddy field all the more surreal.

She'd been just about to do a sweep of the upstairs rooms when Halley had called in about Poe and Chaney being MIA.

That worried her. Those two didn't dick around. If they weren't answering, that meant something. Maybe bad, maybe something as simple as dead batteries in their radios. Regardless, all possibilities could be dangerous.

She left the house and made her way south, cutting in between homes, and moving from tree to tree like a ghost.

When she reached the southern-most edge of town, she scowled. Beyond the last street was nothing but overgrown forest-- a wall of nearly impenetrable trees that grew like the jagged spires of a storybook forest. It was unwelcoming. Somewhere, past it all, she could hear the ceaseless rush of the Jernigan Creek.

She scanned with her eyes and spotted a break in the trees. A mud path really. It was large enough to drive a truck through, though if it constituted a road, was hard to say. She knelt and inspected the tire tracks in the mud. Flanking it were boot tracks. The heavy steps of Chaney, and the light agile ones of Poe. Both men were skilled enough trackers, god bless them, but they were clumsy as hell, even when they weren't trying to be.

Lincoln followed the trail into the tunnel of trees and the world of darkness. But as it led deeper, she started to get a bad feeling. With each passing step, she felt less like a soldier and more like a little girl, lost in a fairy tale forest full of wolves and witches.

***

When the radio finally squawked, Halley nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Hellfire, this is Cat Eyes, over."

Honestly, Halley was hoping she'd hear from Poe or Chaney before Lincoln had to call in. She brought her radio to her lips. "What's going on out there?"

"I'm at the road. I've got no sign of the guys, over."

Halley sighed. "What do you mean no sign of them? They wouldn't have just walked off. They've got to be somewhere out there."

"Stand by."

That response annoyed Halley, but she knew what it meant-- Britt was going to take a look at something and needed a few seconds without her boss's badgering.

"Really? What the fuck does 'stand by' even mean?" Jessup vocalized her concerns for her.

"It means 'shut the hell up and wait'," Halley explained. She glanced out the window and sighed. The taillights from Graver's Jeep were fading in the distance. He was nearly at the bridge, headed into town. Lucy had gone with him. They were going to regroup with Britt and scout for their teammates. She wished they would hurry.

The rookie closed his mouth. He turned away from her, embarrassed and instead peered out the front windshield. The rain was still coming down. Visibility sucked and Jessup was uneasy. He began to pace the length of the RV.

After what felt like an eternity, Halley's radio buzzed again.

"Scratch that," Lincoln said. "I think I've got a twenty on them. Looks like they're checking out an old church."

"An old church?" Halley rifled through her maps with a scowl.

"Stand by."

"Christ!" Jessup grumbled.

"Shut up!" Halley barked, and the ferocity with which she said it instantly silenced the rookie. He looked slightly afraid of her. He wandered to the trailer door and opened it, peering out into the night. Brubaker had stepped out a few minutes ago to do a walk-about of their staging area. Jessup didn't like it. He wished Brubaker would come back to the truck.

"Hellfire, I think that's a non-issue," Lincoln said calmly. "It's definitely them."

Halley sagged with relief. That was good news.

"Want me to pick them up?" Captain Graver asked over the radio.

"Yeah, if you could," Halley replied. "We'll regroup back here. Lincoln, just tell him where this church is."

"Stand by."

Halley rolled her eyes. Maybe Jessup was right-- that *was* annoying.

"It looks like there's other people here and--"

Halley didn't get a chance to hear the rest, because a moment later, Jessup came bursting into the trailer, pale and urgent. "Halley!"

"Not now," she told him.

"Yes now. Brubaker is missing."

She looked up sharply. "What the fuck do you mean he's missing? He's supposed to be right outside." She strode across the cabin and joined Jessup by the door. He was gripping his rifle nervously, peering into the night.

They looked in either direction, and like he had said, Brubaker was gone. They stepped out into the wet grass, the RV door slamming shut behind them. Jessup stayed close to Halley as they walked in a slow circle around the trailer.

They came around the far side, and that was when she spotted it. At first, she didn't comprehend what she was seeing. It looked like a man in long ghostly black robes with some sort of hood or hat-- it was bobbling wildly, the robes blowing out behind him wildly. The silhouette so confusing to her, that she didn't even register it as a person running away from her, until she heard the sound of retreating footsteps all around her. More than one person was running from the RV... not running, but sprinting like their lives depended on it. Then Halley saw the flame, the gas tanks. It all clicked...

"Get down!" She grabbed Jessup, practically yanking the startled young soldier off of his feet. She pulled them both several feet into the forest, and behind the nearest, most solid tree that they could find. She threw him to the dirt, into a little water-filled gulley.

A second later, the RV exploded in a tremendous ball of fire that rocked the forest around them and lit up the night.

A sound on the horizon chased them, distinct and impossible to deny, before the explosion was even finished-- though their ears were too concussed to hear it. Britt Lincoln's voice was very high pitched and childlike when she screamed. Those screams melted into something equally loud and steady, though much more pleasure-filled. And to the northeast, across open fields of tall grass, the shooting started.

The night had begun.

***

MINUTES BEFORE THE BLAST:

Britt Lincoln had paused to call Halley. "Hellfire, this is Cat Eyes, over." She said softly into her radio.

"What's going on out there?" Halley's voice was cold and distant. She never cared much for the codenames, and did nothing to encourage it.

"I'm at the road. I've got no sign of the guys, over."

"What do you mean no sign of them? They wouldn't have just walked off. They've got to be somewhere out there."

Lincoln felt scolded. She knew that wouldn't go over well with the boss. Maybe she needed more information before she called in again.

"Stand by," she said, buying herself some time. She moved a little quicker down the road, keeping to the shadows. Along the way, she passed an old picnic pavilion covered in moss. A few meters up the road (definitely a road now, however overgrown it may be), through a break in the trees, she spotted some light. With the sun mostly set now and night settling in, it was easy to spot the faint ethereal glow.

She crept closer, until the trees parted before her, and the structure stood like a beacon.

A church. Ancient and weathered, the siding blackened with mold, and the roof fuzzy with moss. The steeple listed to one side, the structure damage apparent. Light shown through stained glass. Not electricity. Power was still out. This was candle light. There must have been hundreds burning inside. The glow was a flickering Halloween orange that cast out into the fairy tale forest of darkwood.

Lincoln immediately suppressed a shiver. There was something about it all that she did not like. Someone had to be inside, to light and tend those candles. Why on earth they'd pick this place as a shelter from the elements instead of any of the dozen better kept homes in town was beyond her rationale.

The image of the cultists in black robes with spired hoods came racing back. Was this their den?

Movement caught her eye, and her heart jumped. Two men, moving amongst the shadows, and for the briefest second, Lincoln was positive she was about to encounter those hooded lunatics again.

Then she spotted the baseball cap and the curly hair of one of them. Poe. Chaney was moving nearby as well. Rain running from his boonie hat. He was inspecting a rust bucket old Ford parked beside the church.

"Scratch that," Lincoln whispered into her radio. "I think I've got a twenty on them. Looks like they're checking out an old church."

"An old church?" Halley's confusion was clear.

Lincoln had no other information for her boss. She was blinking stupidly, still thrown off by the sight of this place. "Stand by." She inched closer. She really didn't want to approach the church from her vantage point in the trees. But for whatever reason, Poe and Chaney seemed okay with it. Maybe they'd already cleared it. There was a slow, non-urgency to the way they were moving that implied no immediate danger.

Lincoln felt relieved by their body language. "Hellfire, I think that's a non-issue. It's definitely them." She stood from her crouch and stretched her legs, deciding to just ask them why the fuck they weren't answering their radios.

Over the radio, she heard her captain's voice asking if he should go pick them up. That was fine. They could call regroup and figure this thing out together.

Chaney was standing by the tailgate of the rusty old pickup. Poe just a few feet away, staring calmly at the trees.

"Yo, what's the deal?" Lincoln approached and put her hand on Chaney's shoulder. "Why aren't you ass hats answering your radios?"

Chaney looked up from her touch, but when they came face to face, he blinked stupidly at her. There was no recognition in his gaze. Like staring into the blank eyes of a cow. Lincoln turned to Poe, but the short Italian man wore a matching stare of confusion. They were like zombies.

"The hell is wrong with--" then she spotted them. Men in the trees, barely lit against the flickering orange glow of the church lights. The same dozen or so robe-clad cultists who she'd spotted in the baseball field, watching the fornicating twins. Why weren't her teammates reacting to their presence?

She reached for her radio. The alarm she felt earlier rapidly returning. "It looks like there's other people here and--"

A hand on her shoulder. Chaney had grabbed her.

"Chaney, what the fuck..." she turned, and when she glanced down, her eyes widened. His penis was jutting straight out of his fatigues. It was hard, swollen to a degree that she couldn't imagine. It was twitching pleasantly up and down in excitement and desire. It looked... good.

Despite herself, Lincoln felt a stirring within her that she could not possible explain or comprehend. She had always been a bit of a free spirit, enjoying sex instead of shying away from it. But like this? Out in the open, on a mission with one of her own guys, surrounded by...

The cultists! For a moment, she'd actually forgotten about them. Too distracted by the sight of a cock. What the hell was wrong with her? She wasn't some hormone driven teen who was seeing one for the first time. And yet...

"You feel it, don't you?" A voice among the cloak wearing men. When she turned, the circle of them had drawn closer. Standing on all sides around her, her men, and the rusty pickup.

The voice continued on. "The urge within you. The raw animalistic need." It was a soothing voice. Warm, even. Understanding to her muddled thoughts and conflicting urges. "You suddenly find yourself like a vampire who needs to feed, don't you?"

The ring of hoods parted. A man stepped between them. Slender and squirrelly. The light from the glowing church reflected from his thick glasses. He was wearing a priest's collar. Lincoln blinked stupidly at him. He seemed... he seemed alright. Nice even. Lincoln took a deep breath and felt safe when he approached. Probably why, when he reached out his hand, she offered him her rifle with no questions asked.

"Good girl," he smiled at her. Then his eyes looked her up and down. "You're quite a sexy one. You remind me of..." He paused. "Actually, I don't know who you remind me of." He admitted. "Tinkerbell, maybe? But I've never seen eyes like yours before. Gold... like the eyes of a cat. I can see now why your men are quite fond of you."

Even as he said it, Chaney's hand drifted from Lincoln's shoulder down to her chest. He grasped one of her breasts over her vest and she sighed. The feeling explosive, like fireworks to her. The sensation like nothing she felt before. Poe stepped up to the other side of her and mirrored the gesture. Lincoln felt weak with pleasure and unexplained desire.

She would normally never sleep with either Poe or Chaney (sober anyway), but here in the woods... with this strange man and his strange bunch of followers, she felt safe. Uninhibited.

"It's okay to just give in." He said.

Lincoln's knees shook as her teammates cupped her chest. Chaney had moved on to lowering the zipper of her tact vest. Poe's hand cupped and squeezed at her breast, much the same way as she had by herself, behind the garage, watching that wild sex in the mud. But Poe's touch felt so much more satisfying, so much more electric.

The man in the priest collar watched lustfully as her jacket opened on her perky tits. "To feel that urge and to not run away from it."

Lincoln moaned and whimpered as Chaney and Poe slid their hands beneath her jacket, invading her uniform and rubbing her nipples over her sports bra. She sucked in a breath and mustered the strength to nod at the priest's words.

Abernathy continued. "You are safe with me. In my flock, you are welcome to do as you like, be as you like, with whoever you like. You're free of judgment, free of punishment, free of shame."

Lincoln shut her eyes, allowing the men to fondle her. She wanted that. She wanted to be a filthy slut. This whole mask of being a soldier-- of working a job that put her in danger-- that was just to pay the bills, to weave herself into the unnecessary complicated constructs that society invented so that they could control others. She didn't want that. Nobody *really* did. They were just afraid of being shamed for living the dream of being the animals that they were. That they all were. Halley... Captain Graver... the Lieutenant, the Sarge, those twins in the muddy baseball field. All were just animals who wanted nothing more than to roll naked in the mud and mate with as many different partners as possible. And they all could-- they were all attractive. It was the men who couldn't that fabricated the laws of 'decency' so that they could give themselves a fair chance by holding back others.

Brittney Lincoln understood that now, maybe for the first time in her life. She didn't want to conform to the rules of lesser man. She wanted to shed her uniform and roll naked in the mud like the slut that she was. She wanted to open her body to all takers, and accept them inside of her... She wanted to listen to her body and nothing else.

She opened her mouth, but no sounds came out. Just the steady panting of her deep breaths. Chaney's calloused fingers found her nipple and rolled it, pinching it until it hurt. Flashes of pleasure matched the lightning in the stormy sky.

"It's okay, my child." Abernathy assured her with that easy smile of his. "Enjoy yourself. You deserve it."

Lincoln fought for the words, even with the roaming hands of Poe and Chaney making their way down her tummy and starting to pull at her belt and pants.

"There's... ahhh," she gasped. "There's more of my team... on the way..." she managed to grunt out the warning to Abernathy.