The Shadows Whisper

"I insist, Gentlemen, as before, the ladies as well and then I'll pay the tab for the follow up off the top shelf, my friends."

Jacob Stutzman appeared to beg off but Petar was insistent even enlisting Carole's help in swaying him to the toast. In the end they persisted and with cheers around, each man and woman raised glasses and partook of the Zagreb beverage. For Carole it was satisfying a craving since she first tasted it on her lips. It was soothing, almost forbidden and exotic to her tastes.

When her sister was home she introduced the young Carole to a Mexican spirit mostly unknown in small town Maine and the two sisters drank the liquor long into the night chasing it with grains of salt and small pieces of lime, a green fruit she had never seen before. One of Evelyn's paramours had enticed her with the drink and she wasted an entire weekend in the clutches of both.

Petar's liquor was different. It warmed her body, her breasts and lightened her tongue with sensual desire. As before she watched the odd foreigner in rapt conversation with the menfolk catching his eye on occasion behind the bohemian spectacles that hid whatever lay beneath. In conflict, her sensibilities fought the sensual urges and desires that began to overwhelm her in the parlor.

Petar offered to refill whoever desired it and Carole offered no objection when he came to her. He poured the liquor carefully, his hand on hers to steady the glass, he whispered. Jacob had taken a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs and was in conversation with a fellow and his own eyelids it appeared. That was unlike her husband, she reasoned, since he was always the lively participant at the affairs of the firm when home.

He noticed the slight concern on the young blond woman's face and smiled slightly to himself. While oddly attired and foreign he was always fancied a ladies man of sorts.

"I'm sure he'll be fine in the company of the gentleman he's conversing with, my dear." Petar gazed over the woman meeting her eyes, the sparkling blueness her most striking feature.

"Oh I have no doubt, sir. I suspect the long journey yesterday took much out of him"

As she conversed with the Balkan gentleman, she found herself distracted with the spreading warmth of the elixir and images of an erotic nature. Her mouth was warm and her throat heated; the desire to fuck as Evelyn always put it. She imagined the black haired man naked before her, his cock fully engorged, his hand on the back of her neck urging her toward obscenity...

"Carole... Carole? Carole?..." Mrs. Hansen interrupted her daydreams as she stood there distracted from the conversation.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Hansen. I don't know what overcame me. I was thinking of things, well, things back home. What were you saying, Ma'am?"

Carole's breath was excited and the heat of the elixir, twice that of the evening before, was overwhelming her societal reservations and she forgot her place as the erotic imaginings heightened her arousal. She glanced at her husband and he seemed almost incapacitated while engaged with the gentleman friend. An occasional wisp of chilled air tickled at her throat, very nearly in unison with Petar Vukovic's movements around the room. Another gentleman brushed her hip in passing by and more heat enveloped her budding clitoris.

"Jacob, dear, we should be going. We have an early start tomorrow." Carole implored with intimacy her desire. She needed him now.

Jacob looked up with heavily lidded eyes and slowly stirred to his feet and but for Petar's strong arm in assist he might have collapsed back into the chair and spent the night. The three of them managed to the stairwell and up to the 2nd floor where Carole unlocked the guest room door ushering each of them into the chamber.

Jacob was sprawled on the divan, his clothes loosened and wasted into unconsciousness as Petar reached into his waistcoat removing the elixir and two small tumblers.

"A nightcap in the Zagreb tradition, my dear" as he poured an ample portion into the glass intended for Carole's lips and just a taste for him.

The young wife brought the edge of the glass to her lips and the smooth iridescent liquor coated her tongue and swirled upon her palate before introducing intoxicating warmth into her smooth throat and radiating through her firm body. The contents were swiftly consumed and the blueish cast of the latest strike of lightning filled the room.

Carole never noticed the odd man's firm hands upon her waist. She never glanced at her unconscious husband. The crash of Zeus's hammer outside the window meant nothing. She thought only of Evelyn's wickedness and how it strove for some sort of revealing in her own suppressed soul.

For Petar Vukovic, it meant the forbidden treasure of Jacob Stutzman's possession was within grasp and his prick stiffened in his trousers. A cool breeze snuffed the lamp wick and the room darkened, lit only by the storm's eerie glow outside. With a quick rip the bustier was pulled apart and the ripe white flesh of his conquest was exposed, her long nipples hardening in the cool air.

Petar forced the young wife onto the ruffled bed and reached under her pulling the remaining clothing free of her lithe body. With his own clothes hastily removed, he perched on his knees admiring the naked, exposed virtuous body beneath him. Her thighs were splayed wide, the dark blond curls opening up and revealing a luscious, pink cunt almost inviting his entry. Her breasts were heaving on her chest as she lay there dreamily mostly unawares of the ravishment about to begin.

For Carole, it was a dreamscape, surreal and intoxicating. She could feel the cool breeze on her naked body, a man lying on the divan and her husband above, maybe; she couldn't really tell, the fire within her made it all irrelevant. Her fingers found the curls of her mound and further, the aroused clitoris and vulva of her cunt. Yes, her cunt; that was what Evelyn called it, a cunt or a pink pussy.

The storm continued outside and she felt a strong hand remove hers from her pussy and a cool mouth enveloped her entire sex and without hesitation a warm tongue entered her vagina, filling it entirely like a fully engorged cock. The tongue fucked and licked her cunt going so far as to reach her un-entered cervix and womb. It bathed the soft hot insides of her vagina and on return strokes it lathered her aroused and hooded clitoris.

"My God, keep doing that, Jacob." She screamed out with her hands on the top of the man ministering to her womanhood. She clutched at the long manes of black hair knowing and not knowing it was the odd foreigner, Petar Vukovic. It didn't matter, the tongue or whatever it was had breached that virtuous recess and Carole began fucking her hips into the mouth of the Creature who was bringing her such intense pleasure.

She screamed in pleasure as her body wracked in orgasms, her thighs held almost inhumanly wide by the man's strong hands as he continued massaging her womb deep inside the convulsing vagina with his unnatural instrument.

Just as her orgasm subsided, Petar mounted her with his hand rubbing a fully engorged and unnaturally large prick up and down her moist vulva and with a single slow thrust watched his cock slip into the young blond cunt. Slow deliberate strokes, buried on each as he fucked his conquered beauty. Cool fingers tugged at her nipples as he ravished her body.

Carole's eyes were closed. It was almost more than she could endure as the man fucked her. This was certainly not lovemaking or the in and out of one of Jacob's quick spurting releases. The cock fucking her owned her, literally, as it worked her cunt filling and stretching and reaching that place where his semen could be ejaculated straight into the womb.

The pink walls of her pussy clenched at the cock as it pulled out before plunging back in; her pussy milking the prick with each stroke. Petar pinned his conquest to the mattress and with his full weight and chest pressed against the wife's heaving bosom, he furiously fucked her until knowing he was close, raised up and thrust his cock in short deliberate strokes until he held it tight against her cervix and burst jets of milky white semen, his ass clenched tight as he looked down on his prey.

Her own contractions continued to milk the cock until a frightful streak of hideous lightning brought her eyes opened wide only to be met with the gaze of the man who fucked her virtuosity into something whorish and illicit and carnal. She became what her sister already was, a whore.

The eyes peered intently at the woman beneath them; her own once innocent blue eyes wide in fear and amazement at the creature she was still impaled upon. There was no shriek, only silence as she recognized the greenish yellow animal like eyes of Petar Vukovic. She closed them when a cold chill rushed across her torso and only then did the man disappear into a shadow of the Imagination...

March 8th, 1893

The midwife patted the young wife's brow as she struggled to push the child down the birth canal grunting expletives most unlike the lady all expected her to be. The child was difficult, had been though most of her time with him. He started kicking in the womb until he grew more and then it was a rhythmic tapping against her cervix almost as if he was growing impatient or perhaps trying to arouse her as she found it oddly pleasurable at times.

On this day, there was no pleasure, he made sure of that. The midwife held her hand and with one final burst of throbbing veins and an aching back, the child made his entrance. The doctor gasped and regained his countenance before placing the child in the midwife's arms. She wiped him clean and suppressed a slight giggle before bringing him to the young wife's arms.

Carole glanced at her new baby and suppressed a groan; the boy had a full mane of jet black hair and as with many newborns his eyes were grey but she knew; the child could not be Jacob's as both of them were blond and blue eyed. As she examined her child's body her eyes grew wide; his manhood or what would become such was erect and endowed even at that early age. She thought back quickly of that thunderous night and how unnaturally large he had been...

On the same evening many miles from Portland, in a private hospital room in Boston, another delivery was occurring. This one with a widowed middle aged mother who lived in fear of this day throughout her entire pregnancy. She had never been the same since that stormy night at the Brown's House Inn and resorted to hiring a boat to carry her to Stonington Isle the next day. She was able to conceal her early pregnancy well and in the fall returned to resume her station in the Boston townhome.

Catherine McGill delivered a boy, much like his brother with a mane of jet black hair, well- endowed for such a young age and when his eyes assumed their natural color, they were Green with just a yellow tint, like the beast of the Imagination who ravished her naked body that night many months ago.

She never touched a drop of alcohol after that night refusing even a tonic offered by a friend. The bastard child nonetheless found a loving home in the McGill townhome being raised with the name of Mason McGill and accompanied his mother every summer to Stonington Isle. He grew strong and by his teens was the envy of peers and known for his prowess with the young girls of Boston...

March 8th, 1911

The plod of heavy leather boots worked its way up the stairwell to the third floor of the city town building on Freudenreichova ul. in the upper town of Zagreb. The young man stopped at the doorway before entering knowing already what was waiting; the young cunt downstairs he had fucked the previous evening couldn't keep her tongue in the quest to gain favor with the black haired young man.

"Happy birthday, Abel." The blond woman dressed in fine apparel yelled out as he entered the parlor.

He grinned broadly as the several other women and girls of Zagreb's finest bordello or kupleraj as the working class stiffs not allowed in its desirable chambers called them smiled and patted him on the back. Abel Miller had been working as a hand of the house since he was 14. Carole had named him Abel and gave him her maiden name instead of bringing further shame on Jacob.

The marriage of Jacob and Carole Stutzman came to a rather quick end when the black haired boy arrived and with a generous stipend to keep the matter hush, Carole left the home and sailed to Europe taking the boy with her with just a few belongings. The stipend was enough to get settled and the mother and child moved into Wurzburg taking a small flat in a working class townhouse along the river.

Having grown up in a 2nd generation German home, Carole's grandmother taught both young sisters her native tongue until both were quite proficient. It helped immensely in finding suitable work to earn some income.

She found some domestic work teaching English to the children of several well to do bourgeois' families away from the river. It met the financial needs yet she hoped for more having been spoiled by her position in married life. It came to a head one day when the matron of a well to do household accused her of engaging in whoredoms with her husband. Of course none of it was true but the accusation was enough...

Sixteen years later and an addiction soothed by the city's secretive green elixir, Carole Miller presided over a household tending to the varied and often times perverse desires of a well- heeled old world establishment where discretion was of the upmost. She wasn't always in such a vaunted station; she arrived in Europe fastened to a cheap flat in the river district of downtown Wurzburg and it wasn't until propositioned by a very wealthy German gentleman that she found her niche. He flashed a bag of 80 gMarks and the lust of that stormy night at the Brown's House Inn found it sated again on her back in the city apartment of her patron.

Zagreb was always entrenched in the back of her mind and eventually the lure or tug, whatever that compelling force, brought her to the city and a place where her lustful desires could be explored. It started in a well to do house with a regular book of habitué and over the years she rose among the ranks of the sordid to preside over Freudenreichova ul. in the upper town.

"Mother, I have something for you." Abel motioned to the vial on a silver tray.

The small vessel with a crystal stopper holding its contents glowed with a green iridescence, the swirling color amplified by the shine of the lamp behind it.

"It was distilled only for special occasions and you should use it sparingly according to Hr. Dagodd. He recommended precious amounts with the cognac you keep on your best shelf."

Carole held it up to the light and the lustful thirst almost overcame her but she prevailed.

"You have your provisions for your journey, Abel?" Carole asked.

"Yes, Mother, I leave from the station in the morning."

A rite of passage for the young Croatian men coming of age, many took themselves on a journey outside their city or village confines. The rural youth might travel to the city for a while and immerse themselves in a variety of intoxications and distractions. Many traveled to the west or to the Mediterranean. Abel had booked passage to travel to America, the land of his mother, her gift to him when he came of age.

With the birthday festivities concluded, Carole and her protégé readied themselves for the evening...

"I would like the American woman." the odd black haired man said in almost a whisper.

"I am sorry, she is not available." The courtesan smiled while puffing her ample bosom.

The odd man pushed back his black cape and pulled out a brocaded satchel and placed 5 gold Krones on the table. The young dark haired girl smiled.

"I'll see if she can break away, sir."

Several storms had broken up the day and into the evening as Carole pulled the windows shut after airing the room and scenting the potpourri pots. It had been a busy evening but she had intended to take the evening for herself until one of the newer girls told her of the profitable offer.

Being a middle-aged woman now, Carole still struck a fine and beautiful pose. Her bosom had filled out some since the birth of Abel and while the younger girls were busy though most evenings, Carole had discretely chosen to consort with only a few habitué, all of them moneyed and with influence.

The oil lamps were turned down to give an ambiance, an old courtesan trick and the pillows fluffed upon the bed. Carole wore a dark red silk camisole and as became her trademark, bright red lipstick.

Almost forgetting the vial Abel had given her, she poured several drops into the small shot glass of bourbon from a stock she had sent over from America. Many of her 'guests' took great pleasure in the Kentuckian beverage.

With the distinctive elixir the smooth bourbon traced her tongue and coated her throat with a sensual and warm embrace. This was different from her customary addictive pursuit but there was no time to savor it. A knock at the door and the dark haired girl appeared with her guest.

Carole looked over her man, an odd, maybe strange fellow a bit younger than she but familiar in that Balkan manner. His hair reminded her of the night she was relieved of her virtuous innocence, his dark glasses shielding his eyes from sight.

'It couldn't be." She thought to herself. He would have to be a man mature in his mid- sixties at least with silver hair and not these long black locks.

The elixir was working its magic and Carole turned to her pleasures. Her moist womanhood glowed with eagerness, her nipples hardened in anticipation of their ravishment. With the skill of a courtesan, she unbuttoned his torso and unclasped the black leather belt of his trousers and after removing much of his clothing, led him to the bed.

As the heat enveloped her entire body, she unfastened her camisole and lay back on her bed inviting the man to come forward.

"I want you to do it the French way for a while." He said as he brought his very large cock into view.

All the girls in the house were familiar with these requests. Sucking cocks of all sizes was a required art form to earn a better than average fee. Carole was no different. For that matter, she took great pleasure in doing it, especially when consuming the elixir.

The prick before her was thick and full with a large bulbous mushroomed head when the skin was pulled back and it felt hot in her hand. His full sack of balls hung below covered in jet black hair. There was no way she could suck all of it but she worked the large head into her mouth and with her hand stroked it up and down.

It hardened further in her hand and he grasped the back of her head. The elixir was working especially strong now as the prick plunged in and out of her gasping mouth. Pulling the prick from her mouth, he pushed her back on the bed and into her surreal and erotic dreamscape. Hr. Dagodd had delivered as promised as he watched the whore work her fingers into her moist cunt almost oblivious to him.

The strange man dropped down and with cool fingers, grasped her milky white thighs and as his mouth enveloped her wet sex, a cold blast rushed across the room and snuffed the life out of the gas lamp. It swept across Carole's torso and stiffened her elongated nipples so that they stood up upon her chest.

Her eyes shot wide open in revealed knowledge as the thick protruding organ in the man's mouth pushed into her vagina and began fucking it way deep to her cervix, even prodding beyond. A burst of blue lightning struck outside and she watched his fingers take each nipple into his grasp and twist and tug violently as the hot strong organ continuously fucked her cunt. It furiously attacked her clitoris until her body could hold out no more and Carole exploded in a frenzied orgasm shooting tremors throughout her limbs and torso,