Succubus Ranch Ch. 10

That was the other thing that was wrong with the scene now, too. It no longer appeared that the five men were raping her. It looked more like she was fucking three of them with her mouth, ass and pussy, while she willingly jerked off the other two. All five men, at the same time, went stiff as stones and opened their mouths wide as their hips pressed forward toward the woman that was making them cum.

The two in her hands shot more than three blasts toward her, and each time it was a perfect aim for the semen, as it landed on her back, arms and hands. None of it missed the target, as if her body was attracting it out of the air. The three men that were buried deep inside her orifices just remained as deep as they could go before they relaxed and she started moving again.

Greg felt his own orgasm growing closer; even as he watched the young woman's body becomes even more gorgeous before him. He continued to stroke his cock, but he kept a distance away from her, knowing that this was completely wrong and he didn't want to be a part of it. The thought of leaving the room and escaping from the brothel and calling the cops raced through his mind just as the five men's orgasms started again.

Greg knew this was his chance, since Gary was busy enjoying the pleasure. He looked at the ruthless man's face, to make sure his eyes weren't on him; and the sight made Greg's blood run cold and his erection disappear in the space of a second. Gary's face was sunken in, as if all the fat in his cheeks and under his chin had just been wiped away. The brute's eyes were sunken in, and they looked devoid of life. The expression on his face was no longer one of great pleasure but of excruciating pain.

Greg let his eyes race to the faces of the other three men kneeling on the mattress and he saw the same look on their visages. They were not enjoying this; but they no longer seemed to have the ability to escape it. His eyes went down to look at Charlie, and what lay beneath the woman made Greg finally lose the bile in his stomach.

Charlie's body looked like it was little more than a skeleton wrapped in human flesh. The fat and muscles were almost completely gone, and even the eyeballs looked like they were in the midst of shriveling up as the fluid in them dried out. There was a rasping sound of escaping air coming from Charlie that was just barely audible over the noise of the moans and grunts of the young woman that was raping the five men to death.

Greg looked up from where he had just threw up and his eyes feel on the wet, clean, glistening and glowing body of the woman that was fucking her remaining four attackers. He could not see her face, but the long horns that rose from the top of her head and curled around the side of it reminded him of those mountain rams from National Geographic. That was enough to cause Greg to regain control of his feet and race toward the door.

At first, he was confused, because there was only darkness where the door should have been. He couldn't see anything but shadows, and the only noise was of the woman's moans, grunts and wet sucking noises she made as she drained the life out of those five bastards. Then he saw the thin line of light peering from beneath the door. Greg raced to it, felt for the knob and begged silently for it to not be locked.

To his gratitude, he found the handle and it turned with ease, the door flying open with his hard pull, almost hitting himself in the face with it. As soon as he was in the hallway, the door slammed shut on its own; and Greg didn't even look back as he ran for the entrance of this brothel of hell.

As soon as he was outside the entrance, he saw that there were only two cars in the parking lot, the two that they had come in. He then remembered that Charlie and Gary drove, so they must still have the keys. In total dispair, Greg sat on the top step and placed his head in his hands and began crying. He felt ashamed for calling such evil men his friends; and he felt worthless for allowing them to do what they had just done to Jason and tried to do that poor girl.

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Greg entered the door to Succubus Ranch and closed it behind him. He saw that the door to the room where they had tossed Jason's dead body earlier was still closed. He worried that it was Jason's ghost that he saw earlier. Either that or it was just his imagination. If it was the second one, then he finally understood that damn Edgar Allen Poe story, "The Tell-Tale Heart". The only difference was that it wasn't the heart beating but the dead man talking.

Greg walked quickly past the closed door, giving it a wide birth, afraid that it would burst open and the dead man would reach out for him, drag him back inside, and rip out his own heart in brutal fashion. He walked quickly to door with the number 4 on it. He stood there a moment before reaching for the handle. He was just about to turn the knob when he heard a woman grunting behind it.

Greg yanked his hand away as if it had just been burned by the metal and stared at the wooden barrier. A woman's voice whispered in his ear, and he quickly recognized it as his mother's.

"Always remember your manners, Gregory," she had told him when he was younger.

Greg reached up with his fist to the upper portion of the door and lightly knocked on it. After a moment of silence, he stepped in closer to it, and knocked a little harder, hoping that the woman inside wouldn't yank the door open and drag him to his death.

The door did open, though; but the woman on the other side didn't drag him in to his death. Instead, the young woman that the other five men attacked earlier stood there and gave him a pleasant smile. When he looked at her eyes, he could see that the smile didn't even touch them. This was a predatory smile, and she was looking at him with angry hunger.

As she stood there, her nude body still glistening with the exertion of what she had done with the other men, Greg couldn't keep his eyes from roaming up and down that beautiful flesh, admiring the perky youthful breasts, the toned body and legs. He could even smell her arousal; but when he looked at her face, his heart melted, seeing the face of a very young woman, barely (if even) out of her teens.

But her eyes had a hateful glow about them, and the curled ram horns were still present on her head. Even this, though frightening, gave rise to Greg's arousal for her. He felt ashamed to want her so badly, knowing that what he others tried to do, and the fact he did nothing to stop it, gave her every right to kill him in his book.

"I...I, um," he stammered. The woman reached out a hand and placed it on his chest while she remained in the dark interior. The touch, through his shirt, was electrifying to Greg's mind. He suddenly felt his lusts rising, and knew that if she were to touch his bare skin, he would be sucked into her grasp and she would drain him as she did the others. And he wouldn't resist her.

"Speak up, before I make you pay," she said. Her voice was no longer sounded like a frightened little girl. It had a commanding tone to it that belied her actions earlier.

"I'm s...s...sorry," Greg said, his eyes looking into hers. As he looked he felt as if he were falling under a spell. Her hand started to slide up his chest toward his neck, inching ever closer toward the edge of the collar and his bare skin. He was doomed if she touched him; but he already knew, from the feeling of losing himself in her eyes, that he was already hers.

"For what?" she asked, this time her voice had a playful tone to it.

"I'm sorry for not trying to help you, when they attacked you," he said, his voice sounding miles away to his own ears. "I should have done something, even if it meant they would hurt me."

"Anything else?" she questioned, her fingers now reaching the edge of his shirts collar. He could feel her long fingernail starting to scratch the flesh.

"I'm sorry that I had even thought such bastards were friends," he said. "I want...I want to..."

"You want to what?" she said, her fingers suddenly giving the skin where his neck and shoulders connected a light caress as they slid up, over and then along the back of his bare neck. Greg felt the world fall away, and his mind nearly lost all thoughts of anything but giving this woman his life, no matter how painful the experience may be. Before he lost his mind completely, he got out what he was trying to say.

"I want to make it up to you, in any way possible...willingly," he blurted out.

The woman gripped the back of his neck tightly and she yanked Greg toward her. Her mouth latched onto his and she pressed her nude front to his. Her body molded to his, and he felt her free hand come up and grope his painful erection. She deftly pulled it out of his jeans through the zipper and gave it a gentle squeeze and several arousing strokes while she kissed him.

Greg's mind melted and lost all thought of anything but this monstrous woman. Her tongue probed all inside his mouth, and her breath was hot inside his throat as he breathed it in. Her saliva tasted of sulfur and he had a vision of what Hell must smell and taste like as you were burned to a cinder for eons. His eyes closed as he gave up willingly to her assault, knowing that she was about to punish him for his failure to be the gentleman that he had been brought up as.

Then he felt cold hard metal pressed into the palm of his hand and a cold breeze on his face. His ears filled with the loud crash of a door slamming, and he found his face was nearly a foot from the numeral 4 and the closed wooden door. Taking a step back, he looked down and saw that he had a key in his hands and his dick still protruding painfully forward. There was no key ring; and it was definitely not the key to one of the two older model cars that Charlie and Gary drove.

"There you are, dear," said a woman's voice close by. Greg turned around and found himself staring at a woman who had the beauty of all of his wet dreams. Her face, body and even the way she stood in the middle of the hallway, was the most arousing thing he had ever seen in his life.

Greg fell to his knees and felt his balls contract as the woman's eyes bored into his mind. Images of such sexual delights flashed and blazed through him, every last one of them coming to rest in his groin and causing his cock to finally release the orgasm that he'd been denied for so long.

"That's enough, Greg," the woman's voice said; and like that, his orgasm stopped. "When you get your legs to work again, would you be a dear and take the convertible in the parking lot back to the rental company that it came from? The lady that drove it here has decided to stay with her husband and run with his pack."

After a couple of minutes, Greg used the wall to climb to his feet, feeling his knees shake from the explosion of his orgasm. He looked back to where the woman had been standing; but she wasn't there. Looking down, he saw his spent semen on the floor slowly sink into the carpet and disappear from sight.

"The building absorbs everything to retain its power," Jason's voice said from behind Greg. On wobbly legs, he turned and saw the co-owner of the demonic brothel looking at him. "You survived the attentions of one of our most dangerous daughters. That's got to count for something.

"Do as Maradith asks, and keep the money since your fantasy was never fulfilled," Jason continued. "When you're through with the questions that are going to be asked about Charlie, Gary, Max, Larry and Joe, come back and maybe we can fix you up with your true fantasy, now that they aren't blocking your desires like they had before."

Greg only nodded and left Succubus Ranch, $10,000 richer, driving a rental car back to Las Vegas. As he drove, the entire story of how he and those bastards had gone for a ride out to Succubus Ranch. When he finished with a fantastic night of fornicating with one of the girls, he found that his brutish friends had played a prank on him by leaving him behind. Thankfully, the brothel gave him the loaner of a rental car that needed to be returned.

Look for Greg's return to Succubus Ranch in the future.

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Copyright 2010 © by Jason Morris. All rights reserved.