The Thing from Under the Bed

Rose had been married to her husband Cyrus for three years. They had met through introductions in the proper way. He was in university and she was in the care of her Uncle. Cyrus was a few years older than her, starry-eyed and driven. She had liked that he knew what he wanted out of life and not take no for an answer. When her Uncle passed, it was her husband who convinced her to keep the family estate. She had wanted to sell it and use the money to secure something modest in the city. But Cyrus was adamant they keep it as a sign of status and prosperity.

It was too big. A grand manse with far too many rooms to sort through. They had spent the last summer just clearing it of cobwebs. Repairs cost so much that Cyrus had to spend weeks away at a time working for his father just to keep the main boiler running.

The worst of it was how she could never shake the feeling of being watched. Especially when she was alone, as she was now. The house was large, and there were places she had never been, rooms sealed long ago to fight the cold of the manor. There could even be other people here she thought, how could she tell?

Cyrus called her worries foolish, and under the pressure of his logic, her fears could not hold in her. but they always came back. The longer Cyrus was gone the more they grew. She doubted her sanity. The feeling of being watched made her ever nervous, and she would find herself jumping at any sound.

On this day it was the sound of a door closing. A sudden impact caused her to drop a piece of fine porcelain, shattering it to the floor. Her heart raced as she looked around the room in panic. "Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing down the hallway and beyond. She had been rearranging the furniture in one of the many guest rooms when she heard it. Craning an ear she listened for some response. Hearing a faint creaking sound that echoed from the hall as if some great weight was moving through the manse. She stood still for a moment, "Old houses creak" said the voice in her head. Rose took note that the dismissive voice in her head had become Cyrus' voice. Had she given up even her own thoughts to him? "Well Cyrus isn't here," she said with defiance. "Besides, this sounded different". She walked down the hallway towards the source of the noise, her heart pounding in her chest.

She reached the end of the hallway and peered into the room. The door was ajar. In the failing light, she could see movement. Her heart froze, and she pressed against the wall. Keeping to the shadows, she eased ever closer. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light until she could make out the culprit. An open window, and a thin ghostly curtain flapping in the early evening breeze. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Clearly I'm too tired for more of this," she said, shutting the window and heading upstairs to wash off the dust of the day.

The private bath off the master bedroom was her only real joy of late. True solace in the fiasco that was this house. It held a large, claw-foot tub of hammered brass with a marble tile surrounding it. Dark green tiles that reminded her of deep ocean water. Unlike most of the rooms in the house, this one could hold its heat, and she kept it heated. The water was always hot and ready for a bath. Warmed from the old massive boiler that sat deep in the roots of the house.

She turned knobs and left the steaming pipes to fill the tub as she undressed and donned a robe. Once it was full she stood there watching the steam rise off the water. Prolonging that moment when she would lower herself into its warming depths. The anticipation was sweet, another joy she found for herself. Joy was rare and she learned to draw out these moments when she could.

The water was almost too hot, but she wanted to feel that heat on her skin. She dropped the robe to the floor, closed her eyes, and let out a sigh of relief as she settled into the tub.

Rose let her mind wander. She reached for the soap and began to lather her body. Her hands glided over her curves, feeling every inch of herself. She had kept herself pure before her wedding. Giving her flesh only to Cyrus. But in stolen moments like this, she wondered about the sensation of being touched by someone else's hands.

Her fingers danced over her milky breasts, feeling the weight of them in her palms. She pinched her nipples between her fingers and felt a jolt of pleasure course through her body. Her hand moved slowly down between her legs...

She summoned into her mind again the feeling of being watched. This time on purpose. She imagined it until she could 'feel' the presence in the room as she touched herself. A shadowy figure standing in the doorway, watching her. It had been watching her for a while now, she thought. Drawn to her. The figure could feel the heat radiating from her body, and it was intoxicated by it. It wanted to touch her, to taste her, to make her moan.

In her mind, the figure drew closer. Watching as she continued to touch herself. She was so beautiful... So perfect...

So COLD!

Dear god, why was the water so cold so suddenly? It shocked Rose out of her self-indulgence. She quickly stood up, her wet body dripping water all over the floor. "Damnation!" she exclaimed as she pulled the plug on the tub and walked out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. She was shivering now and could feel goosebumps on her skin. Her nipples turned to ice from the night air.

She sat down on the edge of the canopy bed pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them for warmth. She looked at the empty space next to her, where a man should be. A shiver running through her body.

Blowing out the nightstand candle she turned and crawled under the covers in exhaustion. "No more tonight," she said to herself. But as she lay there, her hand of its own mind returned to her breast and she closed her eyes. She felt a familiar warmth spread through her body as she teased herself. Sliding down to her stomach and then lower, finding the soft hair between her legs. She sighed as she touched herself, feeling what was likely the only heat left in the house, there between her legs.

She moaned as she slid a finger across her lowland palace. She began tracing the line of her cunny. With her eyes closed she could imagine the hands being someone else. Her other hand found its way to her breast. She rolled to her belly, her face buried into the pillows to muffle her moans. Feeling her pleasure build. She pressed against her breast and slid a finger into her wetness. Her hips began to grind against her hand, as the pleasure built.

She felt the eyes on her again, but she was lost in the pleasure, her body moving against her hand. She heard a wet sound in the room, moving. A creaking from the bed. Cyrus's rude fumblings could not make the bed creak like this she thought, laughing at her abandon.

Her laugh caught in her throat when a third hand grabbed her. Something had slithered under the sheets and held her by the calf. She froze as she felt it, creeping up her leg. She felt the heat of it against her skin, and then the wetness of it on her thigh. She could not decipher its shape. Fingers at one moment, rope at another. She was a ball of fear and frustrated desire when the thing spoke.

A craggy whisper from the darkening room warned her "Do not open your eyes''. It was slithering up her leg and beneath her hips. She gasped as she felt it coil around her fingers there, the heat of it on her clit sending a shiver through her body. She let out a moan as it moved against her cunny, feeling the pleasure build inside of her.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"Perhaps, I am what your husband called me. 'Moonlight and shadows. A trick of the light' it whispered. She felt more shapes slide onto the bed, under the blankets. Somehow she sensed its boundless form. ".. I am the thing from under the bed."

Hot ropey tendrils coiled around her. She felt the heat of it against her chilled body, and she moaned as it warmed her. The full weight of the thing pulled onto her, sliding its length along her ass and to her spine.

It settled in the small of her back, tendrils extending from a central mass. They were swollen and as hot as a branding iron. She gasped as its fingers searched for purchase, the tip of them seeking out her openings.

"I know you," she said, fearful and tingling "You are a vile beast" She moaned, "come to force yourself on a goodly helpless woman".

"Force?" the thing laughed. "Open your eyes. Open them and banish me once more to the shadows. I will vanish like smoke, and be no more". She felt more tendrils coil through her hair.

"Open your eyes..." it taunted

"... or your legs" it dared.

She was horrified, not by the taunt, or the idea of the thing's boldness. But by the confusion within herself. To her own shock and horror, she was considering the offer. There was a need inside her. An ache. She bit her lip and kept her eyes shut.

Slowly, she spread her legs apart.

A dark chuckle oozed from behind her. She felt the tips of it part her lips. It was long and hard. A muscled heat now moved inside her, and she could feel the head of it press against her walls. She gasped as it began to writhe and explore her.

Her body was wracked with pleasure as the many armed thing from beneath the bed fucked her. She moaned as it filled her. A guttural moan her husband never managed to pull from her lips. Its tentacles coiled around her wrists, shackling her arms to the bed. Lifting her hips into the air with each retreat, before slamming back into her.

A strange heat built up from a well inside of her, and she cried tears. Her body was wracked with alien pleasure as the thing gave thrust inside her again, and again, and again until she came to her fullness.

She woke up with a start and looked around. She was in her room, in her bed. The moonlight streamed through the window and across her alabaster skin.

It was gone. Or it was never there... but that strange wet heat still lingered with her. She touched herself, and the dampness of the sheets. She raised her fingers to her nose to smell the juices on them. A musky mixture of her, and something else.

"Oh god..." she whispered.

She rolled over onto her elbows and pulled her knees beneath her. After a moment, she raised her ass up into the moonlight. Her eyes shut as she called out to the thing from under the bed.

"I'm ready for more."

-- The End