tagErotic HorrorDying to Remember

Dying to Remember


She remembered dying: It was still clear in her mind. The van was filled with gaiety, alcohol and pot, all overpowered with a dense cloud of sexuality pulsing with desire, when in an instant it all changed. Sexuality became terror as the van left the road preceded by the sound of metal enmeshing with the guard rail. Laughter was replaced with screams as the van tumbled through the air. Alcohol and pot dulled her mind, banishing the chaos surrounding her as a scream welled up in her throat. As quickly as it had started, it ended with the deafening sound of metal in agony as the van impacted the bottom of the gorge, taking her life from her.


Life, death, Heaven, Hell, God, Satan...The words resounded in her mind like a mantra: Words rather than ideas. Having never thought of the words as real concepts before, they brought no memories; neither did they evoke any fear. The only memory she could find was of her death, being neither vivid nor clear it was certain. Being sure she was dead, the only wonder within her was how she remembered anything.

A nervous laughter arose in her mind as she realized she remembered her death yet had no memory of having lived. Maybe I'm not dead, she thought to herself. As soon as those words arose in her mind she recoiled as the thought assaulted her rationality. No: I'm dead. That thought shocked her even more, being clear, distinct and lucid unlike her memory which was in contrast unfocused, somewhat unreal, more dream like.

Lucidity brought with it logic: If I'm dead, I must have been alive. Searching with willful intent she could find no memories, not even her name, all that remained in her cognition was the wreck which ran through her mind like a repetitive loop, and the surety of her death. Thinking she should be afraid while intellectually wanting to scream she could find no emotion within her. Even as awareness faded there was no panic. Knowing she was dead, she was somewhat relieved, thinking she should fade from existence: It seemed right.


Intense blinding pain filled her body letting the scream that had welled up in her throat out of her mouth as another jolt of pain expanded into the remotest corners of her mind filling it completely. Still unaware of her own identity, the body she was in seemed somehow wrong. Again her mind contorted in harmony with her body as she screamed, pain filling every part of her. Panic filled her mind, fear took her sanity while terror took all rationality as she screamed hysterically unaware of who or where she was. Through it all there was only one thought: I'm dead. This can't be happening. I know I'm dead.

The droning chant filled her mind as consciousness expanded out from her, slowly bringing her world into focus. Lying on a cold stone altar, bound into place she strained to see in the dimly lit room. The pain this time came from a whip applied strongly to her upper thighs. Writhing in pain her scream was cut short with the forceful addition of a ball gag into her mouth. Within the chant was laughter, cold not warm. The whip fell in cadence to commands coming from a hooded figure as her hands and feet were released. The commands were spoken in a feminine voice while the harsh whip seemed to be wielded by a male hand. "Get up on your knees. Sit up straight. Bow your head. Hold your wrists behind your back."

Each biting slash of the whip brought forth a scream muted by the ball gag in her mouth, adding to the chant rather than interfering with it. Scrambling to obey her orders in complete submission to the voice commanding her, the room came slowly into focus becoming less dream-like, more real. Dim flickering candles and a dense cloud of intoxicating smoke from the brazier created an eerie environment but not unreal. Being surrounded by hooded figures chanting with power seemed familiar yet did not raise a memory.

There were memories in her mind however she was sure they were not her own. They belonged to someone named Ann. The memory of Ann's death was as vivid in her mind as her own. Having no time to think about it, her attention returned to her body as the whip kissed her harshly across her ass. "Listen carefully. The body you are in is not your body. Your body is dead. Obey me exactly and the body you are in will become yours... The memories you have are not your memories. Pay them no mind, they will soon fade"

Any attempt to make sense out of the words was interrupted by harsh irregular slashes of the whip as it laid new red stripes across her ass and thighs, bringing muted screams from her mouth. Hooded figures closed in around her filling the space with their chant while exploring her body intimately with their hands. The hands caressing her seemed to have their own life, not seeming to be connected to the chanting figures who owned them, raising her new body to arousal.

As if coming from a distance, the words were barely heard; however they were clear in her mind as the ball gag was removed and the chalice was pressed to her lips. "You are Alice. This is your memory. Drink it... Remember... Remember when the hands first touched you. Remember the party. Remember the lust. Remember being Alice, a little slut... You must retrieve your memories or you will fade with Ann's memories. Drink your memory or you will soon be as dead as your body.

Fear ruled her mind, bringing blind panic both wanting to scream and wanting to run. The memories in her mind clashed within her consciousness vying for acceptance. The memory in her mind of Ann's death was as real as the memory of her own. A shot of pain erupted on her body trying to enter her cognition. Experiencing the pain vicariously, arousal was now firmly within her cognition as moans of passion filled her mouth as well as her mind. For the first time she feared death. Fear melded with pain raising her arousal to lust.

The same way fear kept her hands clasped to her wrists in self-bondage; unfettered fear demanded she drink deeply from the offered cup. Laughter filled the room as the memory filled her mouth expanding into her mind like a cloud, ethereal rather than substantial.

Diabolic laughter faded into the laughter of gaiety surrounding her as she remembered. Bits and pieces of Ann's memories pulsed in and out of her consciousness as her memory became more real while Ann's memories became less real. Before they left completely she became aware Ann had not given up her body willingly. Her life was taken from her in a ritual on the altar Alice now knelt on as her memory expanded taking her back in time and space removing her awareness away from the ritual and the altar; however the sound of the chant went with her.

As her memory solidified around her the only connection she retained to the ritual and the altar was the chant, almost drowned out by the blaring rock and roll music filling the area around her. In her memory the bondage she was in was not self-maintained rather her hands were bound behind her back with a bright red silk scarf. Being led into the revelry by the leash attached to the wide sequined collar around her neck keeping her head high while her eyes lowered in submission.

The elaborate costume hid her face while displaying her body. The white gauzy dress barely covered her being thin enough to show her red garter belt while proudly displaying the dark mat of pubic hair as if there was no covering. Walking on her toes from the radical heels she wore, she was led through the merriment

As the memory became real, it expanded back in time allowing her to remember the circumstances of her bondage, having started when she pledged to the sorority. Aware of the sordid reputation of the sorority when she pledged and eager to experience defilement she removed her parent's imposed morality along with her dress. Naked before the sorority, in full submission she publicly knelt before Mistress Karen, kissing her shoes and accepting her as was her sponsor while promising to obey her completely.

Having served her mistress as maid and concubine through the first part of the school year, she was comfortable in her bondage. The Halloween costume party she was attending was her first public outing as a slave; although she was not comfortable in her public display, she was excited by it. Embarrassment colored her face while bringing her to full arousal, having never been as excited as she was now.

It was not as if she was a virgin, however she was not very experienced having lost her virginity by conscious decision at her high school graduation party. The fantasies of her coming of age had been much more exciting than the event itself, which was over almost before it began. Since she had pledged to the sorority her life was filled with erotic pleasures and duties. Karen sometimes used a strap-on but mostly called on her tongue. When she used the strap-on it was usually used for domination rather than seduction. Although she found the experiences pleasant, she was sure she was not a lesbian. Her fantasies, even when kneeling between her mistress' legs, were of submission to a strong man demanding her obedience.

All musing ended as she was led into the midst of the crowd, replaced with driving arousal as her body was assaulted by a myriad of hands. The crude public handling of her body brought embarrassment as well as arousal, raising her passion to lust. A cup of beer was placed to her lips by her mistress with a command. "Drink it all."

As the cup was tilted up she drank as fast as she could however the amber liquid came faster than she could consume it, spilling most of it onto her sheer dress which became transparent as it molded itself to her pert body. Her breasts were not large but were well formed and fully erect bringing her nipples to prominence. When the cup was removed from her lips, it was replaced by a harsh slap and glaring displeasure. "You spilled it. You are such a sloppy bitch. You can't do anything right. You're a sloppy bitch whore, aren't you?"

'Yes mistress. I am a sloppy bitch whore." The words were spoken clearly having learned the proper response well, taught by her mistress and the whip she used to enforce her commands.

"Whose sloppy bitch whore are you?

"I'm your sloppy bitch whore mistress."

Crude hands explored her body while beer was poured over her until the dress was fully wet and she was fully exposed. Her mistress's whip covered her ass with stinging lashes as anonymous hands raised her to a state of pure lust, bringing a song of passion from her lips while her hips rocked against the hands wanting more than caresses.

Beer and passion were forced onto her. The alcohol she consumed was reinforced by the fumes from her clothing taking her rationality from her. Becoming a feral beast, wishing her hands were free, she wanted to fondle those who fondled her. Unable to use her hands she fondled anything she could reach with her hips and her mouth.

Although her memory was vivid and clear it did not remove her from reality, being assaulted by the hands of the coven as she knelt on the altar in submission, covered with Ann's blood, filled with lust and the droning chant which now filled her mind as full as lust filled her body.

Alcohol intoxication in her memory was replaced by intoxication from the smoke filling the temple. As if the mistress of the ritual were involved in her memory, her whip echoed the whip in her memory in rhythm; however it was applied much harsher. A schizophrenic reality captured her mind pulsing from reality to memory while hands incessantly demanded her passion in both worlds.

Being pulled through the throng of revelers, she was handled casually as she passed. Wanting the hands to attend her more intimately, frustration arose in her mind taking the intensity of her arousal from her. Led up a small set of stairs onto a low stage she was knelt on the floor in a row of slaves. The deep kiss from her mistress was followed by harsh commands punctuated by a sharp slap to her face. "You had better win the contest bitch."

"Yes mistress," left her mouth by rote while strong hands removed the mask and then ripped the dress from her body leaving her naked before the cheering crowd.

A strong male voice filled the area around her as he spoke out in a loud voice to the crowd. "Ten little cock suckers in a row. Give them a hand. They'll entertain us tonight." The crowd noise expanded, as they yelled, whistled and hooted. When the crowd noise lowered the male voice continued. "Fifty dollars buys you a blow job by the whore of your choice. The money will go to the mistress of which ever whore drinks cum from the most erections. Blow jobs are all you get. We'll auction off the whore's little cunts latter. Step right up. Put your money in the jar and pick the whore of your choice. You have fifteen minutes."

Crude comments and fondling hands assaulted her while erections filled her mouth. Unable to use her hands, she was not able to modify the assault. Coughing and gagging between thrusts, the rape of her mouth lowered her arousal, while anonymous incessant hands returned it. The erections in her memory became more real as the coven filled her mouth with real erections covering her face with real cum. Before the contest was done all of the slaves on the stage were covered with cum while she knelt on the altar with cum dripping from her face onto her naked breasts, caressed by the chant which had lowered in volume but not in intensity.

The erection in her mouth exploded as the bell rang, ending the contest. The pulsing erection in her mouth was added to her total, while her closest competition was still working on the erection in her mouth, bringing her mistress victory and a smile as she scooped the money out of the jar, holding both hands filled with money high into the air while dancing a dance of victory, bringing the crowd alive with revelry and cheers.

In her memory she was led to the back of the stage to be washed, makeup redone and hair brushed. In the temple she was led from the altar to a small alcove to be cleaned by a naked slave while the hooded figure with the whip became a beautiful, fully mature woman in corset and heels with the removal of her robe. Laid back onto a low wide couch, almost a bed, she remained in self-bondage as the woman assaulted her senses with kisses and bites of passion as the coven continued to rise her passion with their hands.

The words were spoken into her mouth almost intimately. "Do you remember? You are such a slut."

"Yes mistress. I remember. I was a slut."

Biting her sharply on the neck her mistress spoke harshly without volume. "You are a slut. You were a slut then. You are a slut now. Whose slut are you?"

Lowering her eyes as she replied, a surge of arousal spread through her flushing her face while swelling her vagina. "I am your slut mistress."

Placing a goblet to her lips as she knelt beside her, the words from her mouth were as smooth as velvet caressing her mind as the hands of the coven continued to stimulate her body. "I have another memory for you Alice. Drink. Remember well my little pain princess. Drink or die."

Having no doubt her life depended on it she drank the draught offered to her, the hands sensuous caresses became instruments of pain, raising her passion to lust as the memory expanded into her mind. In her memory her hands were bound above her head as she perched on the edge of an armless reclining chair with her legs bound to the legs of the chair holding her open to the lusty gaze of the audience. The chair she was bound too was one of ten chairs set up across the stage. Each of the other pledges was bound in the same way. In her reality she was in the same position however her openness resulted from self-bondage commanded and enforced by the whip which was wielded harshly while the woman wielding it seduced her with kisses and caresses. The chant and the hands never stopped.

Raging with desire, little moans left her mouth as her hips rocked against the hands between her legs trying to capture them for her pleasure. Reality faded as her memory took her mind. The open display of her body brought her hips alive writhing in need as she whimpered. Only her mistress Karen standing next to her kept her from begging aloud for her violation.

The loud male voice addressed the audience. "It's time for the Pain Princess Contest." The roaring hooting crowd caused the emcee to pause waiting for the cheers to die down. "I'm sure you all remember last year's pledges. They all graduated. They are now full-fledged sorority sisters. Give them a hand as they come back to help us with the contest."

A line of young women stepped up onto the stage; all of them wore brief costumes, some of them quite lewd. Parading around the stage, they posed for the audience, kissing each other while fondling themselves, occasionally walking to the edge of the stage allowing the audience to fondle them, kissing them lewdly as they did. The energy of the crowd had become loud and rowdy when the emcee directed each woman to kneel before the bound woman from their sorority before returning his attention to the audience. "Simple rules: You supply the pain while the sisters on their knees supply the pleasure. When everyone has had their fun we'll vote, the winner's sorority takes it all."

When he had finished talking two young women entered the stage bringing the crowd alive. Their arms and legs were bound to each other with bright colored scarfs holding them close together, each one having one leg and one arm free. Naked except for panties and stockings held up with a garter belt, each one held a large glass jar in their free arm; one jar was filled the other one empty. "Give our Siamese twins a hand; they have the instruments of pain I know you'll buy."

The crowd noise drowned out the emcee as he led the bound women around the stage posing them while fondling them. When the crowd noise died down the emcee directed them off the stage as he continued. "Our twins have clothes pins in one jar. They cost twenty dollars apiece, six for a hundred. Put the money in the jar. When the clothes pins are gone and the money jar is full, the contest will begin. You will then come on stage to deliver pain to the whore of your choice. Be sure and check out the twins. They'll be auctioned off tonight with the rest of the little whores on stage."

The focus of the crowd shifted from the stage to the twins as they moved through the crowd collecting dollars and crude fondling as they were assaulted by the lust of the crowd. When they returned to the stage, the clothes pins were gone and the empty jar was now filled with money. "Let the contest begin."

Using her whip for stimulation Karen smiled with pleasure while the woman between her legs brought her passion up. Little shots of pain appeared across her body as the clothes pins were attached to her most sensitive places bringing sharp exclamations from her mouth melding with moans of pleasure, as the hands continued raising her arousal. Pain and pleasure melded together bringing her to a feral state of arousal. Using her whip to intensify her pleasure Karen spoke between kisses and lashes. "Sing for me. Sing like a whore in heat. Win the contest or I'll buy you tonight. Scream for the audience right now or you'll scream for me all night."

Fear engendered by her words combined with the pain across her body and the pleasure between her legs bringing her passion to lust as she screamed out her orgasm. Before it could die she rose up to another. The orgasms became one long orgasm filling her body, mind and mouth as she shrieked out her pleasure.

Reality and memory merged in the temple as she was covered with clothes pins and lust. The chant caressed her mind while the hands caressed her body. A hooded figure knelt between her legs bringing her to full arousal. Her new mistress captured her mouth filling it with lust and a lively tongue. Between kisses and lashes she cooed into her ear. "Alice you are such a slut. You are a little pain princess. Sing for me. Sing for the coven. You now belong to me."

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