Home by the Sea

He shoved her down hard to the bed, then quickly rolled her over and jerked down her pants. "Nobody asked you what you wanted. I was telling you what I'm going to do."

"Fine, do whatever you want. I don't care," She responded, but her quickly pulling off her blouse and the wetness between her legs betrayed the truth of how badly she wanted it.

He grabbed her hips, jerked her up onto her knees, and then pushed the head of his cock inside her.

He groaned, and she moaned, as he buried his rod inside her. She was hardly a virgin, but she still squeezed his thick cock tight in her velvety, wet depths. After anticipating this all night, he was in no mood to waste time. Victor pounded her pussy, digging his fingers into her hips.

Cat yelped with every thrust of his prick inside her. Her tits bounced painfully under the strength of his thrusts, and her hands kept sliding forward every time his flesh collided with hers and pushed his rod into her cervix. She felt heat building in her loins as her juices ran down her thighs, his relentless pounding never easing up in the slightest.

She reached back with one hand to rub her clit, the next thrust shoving her hand forward and causing her to fall face first on the bed. He held her hips tight and never lost his rhythm. The hot sensation in her depths was now intensified by a growing pressure – an orgasm building toward explosion. She rubbed her clit in fast circles, screaming as each thrust pushed her closer to the edge.

Victor grunted in pleasure, enjoying seeing her face down on the bed while he jammed his dick into her depths. He could tell by the way she bit off her yelps and started to groan between clenched teeth that she was close. Releasing his grip on her hip with one hand, revealing ruddy imprints left by his fingers, he pulled his cock free from her for a moment and shoved his thumb inside her.

She loudly moaned in protest, but he remedied the reason for that protest by removing his thumb and replacing it with his cock once more. He then roughly shoved his pussy-slick thumb into the puckered ring of her ass.

She let out a loud scream when his thumb violated her ass, and pulled her hand away from her clit to raise her upper body off the bed again. She was so close to the point of no return now that she didn't need to rub her bud anyway. He pierced her flesh half a dozen times more, and then the bubble of pressure in her depths ruptured.

She screamed, the sound loud and staccato, as he continued to assault her spasming pussy. Her orgasm just kept spiking, never really stopping and making her body feel like it was on fire. Her skin flushed crimson as the heat within her manifested itself outwardly. Her fingers tangled into the bed sheets below her, and his thrusting cock made loud squishing sounds as her juices flowed in a torrent.

He pulled his thumb from her ass with a pop, and then grabbed her hip again to take two more thrusts, before slamming home with all his strength, pushing her down face first into the bed again.

His seed spewed into her in hot bursts, his hips spastically rocking beyond his control as he emptied his balls into her clenching depths. She moaned deep in her throat as she felt his cream filling her, clenching her muscles tight around him and shuddering.

He pulled from her with a gasp, trailing thick ropes of cum, and collapsed onto the bed. Catherine let her hips fall to the bed, though she ground her crotch against the bed every so often as aftershocks passed through her body.

The couple moved to the head of the bed, away from the sticky wet spot at the foot, and lay down to sleep for the day. They set no watch, doubtful there was a reason to do so, and confident in their well-trained senses to awaken them if a reason did arise. They did this all the time, and the few times they had miscalculated, those responsible for the interruption had spent a long time tied up in their own home, or lying in pools of blood.

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Some hours later, Victor awoke with an urgent need to piss. He grunted and rose from the bed, causing Cat to growl and pull the sheet over her head. His head throbbed painfully and his thoughts were fuzzy, as if he had awakened from a drunken stupor, even though he had not consumed enough liquor to cause more than slight intoxication.

He walked over to where the chamber pot had stood and found it missing. He grumbled, "What the fuck?" He then looked around, failing to find the missing pot anywhere.

He growled, pulled on his pants, and then opened the door, wincing from the sunlight in the hall. The windowless room was nearly as dark as night, and the sudden light was painful. He let his eyes adjust for a few seconds, closed the door, and moved in a crouch to avoid detection through the windows, proceeding down the hall to another bedroom.

Entering the room, he found the chamber pot here missing as well, even though each of the bedrooms had contained one before. Grunting, "Fine!" he aimed his dick at the bed. He pissed all over the mattress, chuckling as he did so.

He turned to head back to the master bedroom, but a growl from his stomach prompted him to return to the kitchen for something to eat instead. He crept carefully through the halls and then down the stairs toward his destination.

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Cat felt a hand rub against her thigh through the sheet over her. "Fuck off, I'm sleeping," She mumbled from beneath the covers pulled over her head.

The hand continued its journey, creeping upward toward her pussy. She growled and kicked out behind her, surprised that the kick connected with nothing.

The sheet over her suddenly pulled off her body, and then completely off the bed, in a single swift jerk. Cat rolled over with a growl, planning to kick Victor square in his family jewels, but gasped when she saw nobody in the room.

She shook her head and rubbed her eyes, staring into the gloom. She remembered then that Victor had left the room. Getting up, she saw the sheet that had covered her was indeed lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. She put her head in her hands as a throbbing headache assaulted her.

Standing caused the cum inside her to seek escape. She moved to the chamber pot and squatted, emptying her bladder as the sticky mixture dripped from her.

When she ceased dripping, she pulled some article of clothing from the nearest drawer and wiped her pussy clean, tossing the soiled cloth over near the chamber pot.

Rubbing her eyes again and groaning, Catherine grabbed the wine bottle and took a long draw. She sighed, took another drink, and then carried the bottle back over to the bed. She sat it down on the end table next to the doused lantern and picked up the sheet from the floor to pull it back onto the bed.

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Victor walked up to the kitchen door, wrinkling his nose when he smelled something foul. The stench only grew worse as he walked into the kitchen, and when he opened the first storage barrel, he discovered why.

The salted pork in the barrel was covered in slime and crawling with maggots. The reek from the opened barrel made him heave. He slammed the lid back down and stepped away quickly. "What in the fuck?"

Looking at the basket of apples they had eaten from earlier, he saw the fruit was brown and shriveled, with gnats buzzing in a great cloud around the basket.

Help me.

The voice was faint, almost inaudible, but he heard it. Victor spun in the direction from which the voice had emerged, but saw nothing. The voice had sounded like a little girl – the tone pitiful and frightened.

Help me, someone. Get me out of here.

The voice was different this time, obviously masculine, but with the same tinge of fear and barely audible. Victor turned in the direction from which the voice had arisen and once again saw nobody there. What he did see was a large butcher knife, which he quickly grabbed.

The knife felt good in his hands. It was a far cry from his well-balanced daggers, but it would serve well enough when he found whoever was fucking around with him. He stood in a defensive crouch, ready to spring into action. For several minutes, he stood and growled silently at the pounding in his head. He heard nothing and saw nothing as he scanned the room with his eyes, body tensed for battle. Eventually, Victor noticed that the stench of befouled food had disappeared from the room.

Turning to look, he saw the apples were still fresh. A peek into the barrel showed that the salt pork was likewise uncorrupted. Victor muttered, "What the fuck was in that brandy?"

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Catherine took a final pull of wine, staring at the empty bottle in irritation as she sat it back down. She wondered where in the hell Victor had gotten off to, and why he hadn't come back yet. She also wondered what had caused the weird dream that had made her kick the sheet off the bed.

Maybe the wine wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Shaking her head, she lay back down and pulled the covers over her. If there were a problem, he would let her know. He probably had just gotten up to get more food. The man ate constantly, and complained constantly if he couldn't.

She soon drifted back off to sleep.

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Victor walked out of the kitchen, munching on a hunk of jerked beef. Three more slabs stuck out of his back pocket, and he carried the butcher knife still. He had decided that he must just be half-asleep and half-drunk, and had imagined the voices and other weirdness.

The knife in his hand still made him feel better, though.

There were curtains over the windows in this part of the house, so he paid them no mind as he walked back toward the stairs. After a while, he looked around in confusion. He should have reached the stairs by now, and there was an intersecting hall ahead that he knew shouldn't be there.

"Walked past the stairs, asshole," Victor muttered and turned back around, pulling another chunk of beef from his pocket.

Again, he knew he had walked too far, and had not yet found the stairs. He should have reached the kitchen again by now, but it was nowhere to be found either.

"No more fucking brandy," he grumbled, stopping to concentrate, to try to get his bearings. He saw a sitting room up ahead, and he walked toward it, thinking he remembered how to get back to the stairs from it.

Walking into the room, he hissed, "Shit," when he saw a woman in the room.

She turned toward him, and his eyes widened. The woman had the biggest tits he had ever seen. They stood out proud and firm, the upper half of the globes well displayed in the low-cut neck of her servant's dress. He knew there was no way that tits so big could defy gravity like hers did, but there they were right in front of his eyes.

The rest of the woman's body was just as shapely, with long legs that were also well displayed by her uniform. Her full, bee-stung lips curled into a smile and she flipped her blonde hair teasingly. "Are you new? My, you're a sexy one. It's my lucky day."

She walked toward him, and he moved out into the room to avoid the confining space in the doorway if she was not alone and he had to fight. He also wanted to be closer to her so that he could knock her out and tie her up with something. He didn't want to kill her unless he had to, because she looked like a damn fun ride. He moved in front of a couch, holding the knife out in front of him in plain sight.

The woman continued to saunter toward him. "Oh, poo. Put that thing away. I want you to stick me, but not with that. Sit down."

A voice arose from somewhere near the ceiling, Sit down.

"Sit down," the approaching woman repeated, echoed by another voice behind him. Victor turned his head to look where the voice had come from but saw nothing.

"SIT DOWN," the woman screamed, and suddenly shot forward, pushing him to the couch before he could react, as he turned back to look at her.

Victor's hand hit the arm of the couch and went numb. The knife dropped from his hand, and he quickly scrambled to pick it up. Impossibly, since it had simply fallen from his hand, the knife was nowhere to be found.

"Forget that silly thing," the serving woman said. She gripped the neckline of her dress and pulled hard, popping the buttons in the back and freeing her impossible breasts. Her pinky-sized nipples pointed straight at him, at least a full inch in length, as she shrugged her dress down past her hips.

The thick hair surrounding her sex was soaked with wetness, and it dripped down her thighs as well. Her scent of arousal was overpowering, slamming into Victor like a hammer. His cock swelled to hardness, and a drifting, drunken feeling flooded through him.

She gently pushed against his chest, guiding him to lie down and moving over top of him. She jerked down his pants and purred when she saw his rapidly rising cock, immediately dropping down to engulf it in her mouth.

He could have sworn she was trying to suck his balls out through the slit in his dick. Every stroke downward nestled her nose in his pubic hair, and she didn't choke in the slightest when his prick slid into her throat, even when he rose to his full, erect length.

As soon as his cock was fully engorged, she let it slip from her lips and climbed onto the couch above him. She reached down and pointed his throbbing member straight up, poising her hips over him. A drop of her juices spattered on his cock, mixing with a drop of pre-cum that was oozing from him.

With a moan, she lowered her hips until her nether lips made contact with his hard flesh, and then she slammed down to envelope him inside her. She was impossibly tight, squeezing him like a vice in her saturated canal. He groaned as she started bouncing up and down off him, stroking him into her tight twat.

Her juices squirted from her around his cock every time she slammed down on him. Her head lashed back and forth, while her enormous tits bounced hypnotically before his eyes. She screamed in ecstasy, never slowing or pausing in her relentless bouncing dance on top of him.

Victor felt his sack draw tight and the unmistakable itch that told him he was going to come. Just before he exploded, she slammed down on him one last time and let out an ear-piercing scream.

A torrent of sticky juices washed over him. It felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of pussy juice over him, soaking his legs to the knees and washing up into his navel. Her walls contracted around him in a rhythmic pulse, from tip to root, and he spewed his seed inside her with an animalistic scream of release.

His head swam, his eyes closed, and all sound save the loud, rapid beat of his heart thudding in his ears vanished.

Images then assaulted Victor’s mind. People he had never seen. Places he had never been. Sorrow. Delight. Endless summer days. Long gloomy nights. He felt as if he was reliving the lives of a hundred people at once.

The jumble of images only stopped when Victor lost consciousness.

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A hand inching its way between her legs once again awakened Catherine. She sat up with a snarl, and then looked around in confusion when she found nobody in the room. She watched in wide-eyed terror as the sheet was jerked from her hands and off her nude body. A scream tried to emerge from her, but an icy cold, invisible hand tightly pressing against her mouth muffled it.

Other invisible hands – cold and clammy as a corpse's – grabbed her wrists. The one on her mouth shoved Cat down to the bed. She struggled against the invisible assailants, but couldn't dislodge the hands. When other frigid digits wrapped around her ankles, she bit the invisible hand over her mouth. She could feel the cold flesh between her teeth, but the hand didn't even twitch.

Shadows began to move into the room. They passed through the walls, the door, the ceiling, and the floor – unaffected by the furniture in the room. They even passed through the bed and her body, causing gooseflesh to break out on her skin from the chill, incorporeal touch. Each shadow was vaguely man-shaped, but the things moved so fast that they appeared as little more than a blur.

The frightening apparitions whirled around the room while Catherine lay pinned to the bed – helpless. The specters drifted without direction all around the room, dancing before her and at the edges of her vision. One flew over the bed directly toward her and she saw its eyes – filled with longing and despair, but tinged with anger and hatred as well.

As one, the shadows suddenly stopped, hovering wherever their chaotic dance had placed them. A great sigh and a moan erupted from every corner of the room.

Help us.

Free us.

So long.

Dreaming.

Undisturbed.

The words came from a hundred voices, repeated over and over again in a maddening chorus of unsynchronized cacophony. Catherine closed her eyes and screamed into the hand covering her mouth.

As suddenly as they had begun, the voices stopped. The hands that had restrained Cat released her. She opened her eyes and darted them back and forth in mute terror, the sound of her heart deafening in her ears, her breathing ragged and doing little to bring air into her lungs.

Cat shook her head and felt her wrist. She could still feel the hand there, but there was no evidence that it had happened. A grip that tight upon her as she struggled should have left marks. Gods knew that Victor's hands did, when she made him take her roughly.

"What a stupid dream," she said under her breath, but she was hardly convinced. Her stomach churned. The fear she was denying and trying to suppress manifested as a case of the flux threatening to incapacitate her.

She sat on the bed, slowly mastering her emotions as nothing odd happened. Her brow furrowed as she wondered what in the hells was taking Victor so long to get back to the room.

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Victor came to with a powerful, throbbing headache. He groaned and opened his eyes, wincing and screaming as the faint ruddy light streaming through the windows made his head hurt worse.

He opened his eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light, groaning from the pounding in his head that felt as if a sadistic boson was beating out a rower's cadence on his skull. He was lying on the couch, his flaccid cock in his hand, with trails of cum splattered all over his chest and pooled in his pubic hair.

"Dammit," he growled and sat up, screaming when the action intensified the throbbing of his head. He jerked a throw from where it was draped over the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He then wiped his seed off him as best he could.

When he opened his eyes again, the throbbing in his head had died down to a dull echo of its former intensity. It was nearly dark, he realized as his senses returned to him. Looking around, he found his pants on the floor beside the couch and picked them up. The butcher knife fell to the floor with a clatter.

Pulling on his pants and picking up the knife, he grabbed another hunk of beef from his pocket to gnaw on it unconsciously, swearing silently that he would never touch another drop of brandy again in his life.

Victor walked in the direction he expected to find the stairs, and was relieved to discover that they were exactly where they should be. His head felt a little clearer now, and he shook it in confusion, remembering the servant girl. He assumed that it must have been a drunken dream of some kind, because he had awakened with his dick in his own hand and cum splattered all over him, not up in the twat of some huge-tittied slut.