Watchers

Beyond the parlor was yet another corridor. Doors lined the walls on either side. Most were closed, but a few were open, and seemed like portals into obsidian darkness.

The corridor ended before a scarlet red door. It was the first object of color Matt had seen since entering the house.

Nyx turned to Matt and laid her arms over his shoulders. He leaned forward, she parted her lips, and he kissed her hard. His tongue slipped into her mouth. He felt her teeth nip at it, and he pulled back.

She laughed, then turned to the door. Again, it seemed that she merely had to place her hand upon it, and it opened.

"This is my room," she said. She stepped through the door, but Matt hesitated, suddenly fearful to cross that threshold.

Nyx put her hands on her hips, tilted her head to one side, shook it in disapproval and said, "You've come so far. Will you disappoint me now?"

Matt was unable to resist her. He stepped into Nyx's room.

It was large enough to feel like open space. When Matt looked up, he could not see the ceiling. There were no windows. The only illumination came from a quartet of tall pillar candles on metal stands on either side of a large, four poster bed. There was no other furniture visible in the room.

A thick scent of incense filled the room, but beneath it, Matt detected another odor; something foul, like rotten meat or mildewed fabric.

Nyx stood at the foot of the bed. Her cloak dropped to the floor. To Matt, it looked almost as if it had slithered off her shoulders.

She undulated her torso and the shoulder straps of her dress slid down her arms. The front of it fell to her waist, revealing her full firm breasts and erect nipples.

"Undress," she told Matt. He pulled off his jacket and fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

With a flick of her hips, Nyx's dress fell to the floor. She stepped out of it and stood before him, naked but for her black boots.

Matt tossed his shirt to the floor and kicked off his shoes. His hands shook as he unbuckled his belt and pushed down his jeans and boxer shorts.

He could not take his eyes off of Nyx. Her slender thighs met in a tangle of jet black hair that perfectly matched the cascades of curls that tumbled over the tops of her breasts.

He bend down to free his feet from the tangles of his pants, and when he straightened up his cock was fully erect and pointed straight at her.

"You are ready," she said, smiling, "Come to the bed."

When he tried to embrace her, she put her hand on his chest and pushed him back. "Lay down" she said, "I shall attend to you."

It did not occur to him to do anything other than obey her. He laid down on his back and realized the bed was bare. There were no sheets, no blankets or pillows.

Nyx climbed on the bed and knelt beside him. She grasped his swollen cock. She stroked him a few times, then bent down and flicked the tip of it with her tongue, just once. Rising back up, she looked down at him and said, "You will do nicely."

Matt was distracted for a moment. He thought he saw something moving in the darkness behind Nyx. It's just the smoke from the incense, he told himself.

Nyx crawled on her knees towards the head of the bed, then raised one leg and straddled his chest. She gently raked his cheek with the sharp tips of her nails.

After staring down at him for a few seconds, she slid forward, pinning his shoulders to the bed with her knees. Her cunt was right above his face. It's scent was pungent and strong.

Matt stretched his neck, yearning to reach it, to lick her, to taste her, but it was just beyond his reach.

He felt her grip and raise his right arm. Something cold touched his wrist. He tried to sit up, but could not. He strained harder, but somehow she had the strength to hold him down. She took his other arm, and he felt the coldness touch there.

Nyx climbed off of him. He looked from side to side and realized she had manacled him to the iron headboard with heavy chains.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed.

She laughed at him. "It is a game," she said, "You will enjoy it."

She turned her back to him and, from somewhere, produced a long wooden matchstick. She ignited it and went around the room, lighting more candles. As their illumination grew, Matt once again had the feeling that there were things moving in the darkness.

And were there whispers?

"Is there someone else here with us?" he asked, trying to hold back a rising panic.

"It is just the sound of the wind," Nyx said dismissively.

"But there are no windows."

"I assure you. You and I are the only living things in this room."

Nyx knelt at the foot of the bed.

"You were watching your friends," she said.

"No, I..."

She squeezed his calf, her nails digging in just enough to cause him pain. "Do not lie to me. I saw. You watched as she pleased him with her mouth."

She pushed his knees apart and lowered herself between his legs.

"You will watch me now."

He pushed himself up on his elbows, and looked down along his body at her.

In his fear, Matt had lost his desire. Nyx examined his limp member and raised one eyebrow. Her right hand slid up his thigh, and reached beneath his scrotum. She lightly scratched at it with the points of her nails. Matt held his breath, fearful that she might claw at his balls, that she might rip them from his body. But her touch was gentle, pleasurable. He felt his cock twitch and thicken.

Nyx stared into his eyes as she ran her tongue the length of his cock. It swelled as if his engorging blood was following it. She lifted her head and looked closely at it again, then once more gazed into Matt's eyes.

She smiled and parted her lips. From his vantage point it appeared that his cock tilted toward them, like the compass of a needle pointing toward true north. Of course, he knew that could not be true.

She brushed her lips against the underside of his cock, still staring into his eyes. For a brief second, he was again distracted by the impression that there were shifting shapes behind her, but when she cupped her lips over his cock head, he lost all thoughts of anything other than Nyx, and the sight of her mouth engulfing him.

Her lips formed a perfect circle around his shaft. As she lowered her head, they seemed to almost crawl along its length. She easily took it all in, and never dropped her gaze from his eyes.

As she rose, he felt her tongue skittering along his sensitive flesh. She still held his balls in one hand, and while her grip had grown tight enough to cause him pain, he did not mind. The pleasure of her mouth, and his fascination with watching its manipulations overrode all else.

Her other hand moved up his chest and one sharp fingernail made circles around his nipple. He imagined her slicing it off, but could not bring himself to care.

He found that if he gripped the chains that held him to the headboard, he could pull his upper body higher and improve his view. He wanted to watch her every motion, to relish the nuances of each flick of her tongue, to seer the vision of her extended lips, her hollow cheeks, her piercing eyes, into his memory forever.

The whispering in the room grew louder, while Nyx made no sound at all. Even when the tip of his cock must have been deep into her throat, she never choked or gagged. She never withdrew for a gasp of air.

He felt the unmistakeable sensations of an impending ejaculation. His cock was totally immersed in her mouth, her face was pressed against his groin. It felt as if her throat was undulating, milking him, and he was certain that he would come at any second.

He was excited by the thought of seeing his cum in her mouth, glazing her face, dripping down from her lips.

His hips shook and bucked. He moaned, a long, low sound that could have been extreme ecstasy or profound agony.

But he did not come.

Nyx squeezed his hips with both hands, hard enough to dig into the flesh. She raised her head and laughed. The sound of it echoed through the room.

Matt fell back on the bare mattress, panting for breath. His cock was so swollen it ached. It felt as if some invisible cord had wrapped itself tightly around its base, choking it off from the rest of him.

"You will release when I allow you," Nyx said.

She rose to her knees, and for an instant, Matt saw a hideous, distorted face peering over her shoulder. He stared in wide eyed terror, and screamed. Nyx waved her hand and the face dispersed into mist. She turned her hand to Matt, and his scream was strangled in his throat.

She crept forward, a knee on either side of his thighs. The expression on her face was tender and sympathetic. "You shall receive the honor," she said, taking hold of his cock, "You shall have what you desire."

She straddled his hips and guided his cock into position at the mouth of her cunt. Matt held his breath in anticipation.

When the tip of his cock entered her opening, he felt a tremor through his body. As she lowered herself on to him, the sensation was like that of exposed flesh on a winter's day, so cold that the skin seems to burn. And yet, it was intensely pleasurable. If not for the invisible barrier Nyx had somehow imposed, his cock would have immediately erupted in a liquid explosion.

She engulfed him, but then became still. He lifted his head and saw her, totally motionless astride his loins, and yet, he felt ripples of movement along the length of his shaft, as if her cunt were an independent being.

But it was apparent that she was responding to the cock inside her. Her head was thrown back, and her chest expanding and contracting with mounting rapidity.

She began to mumble words Matt could not understand. The flames of the many candles flared, and more of the room was illuminated.

In the brighter light he could see a fog that must have crept in through some unseen opening. But as the light became brighter, he saw that the fog contained shapes. He saw the vague outsides of multiple human forms. They wavered, vanished, reformed, all around and above the bed. With each form there was a face, and with each face, a pair of staring eyes.

Nyx's voice grew louder, but Matt still could not comprehend her words. He was overwhelmed with terror. He strained against his chains, and once again, screamed in silence.

The whispering voices grew louder and he understood that they were engaged in a call and response with Nyx.

Despite his terror, the urgent desire to ejaculate became unbearable. His balls throbbed and his lower belly cramped.

Nyx began to move her hips now, passionately riding him with an undulating motion. The pressure of imminent orgasm coursed through his body.

She held her arms above his belly, turned them palms up, then in a single motion, raised them to shoulder heights while leaning back and letting his cock spring free.

Great jets of semen spurted into the air. Matt felt a great feeling of evacuation, as if much more than just his ejaculate was pouring out of his body.

He swooned and must have lost consciousness for a brief moment. When he became aware again, he tried to convince himself that he was asleep, trapped in a surreal nightmare.

Nyx was still astride his legs. The terrible faces were crowded around the bed, close enough that if he were unshackled, he might have swatted them into mist.

He thought he saw sparks before his eyes, but realized that he was not seeing some trick of the light, but his own semen, floating weightlessly in the air in glistening silvery droplets. Nyx waved her hand and they moved, forming a slowly turning spiral.

The numbness of incomprehension was almost soothing. He felt distant, and watched her perform her mad ritual as if he were not an involved participant.

She smiled at him and once again, he thought she had the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

He wondered if it was real.

She reached out and placed her hand on his chest. He thought she might lean down and kiss him, but he felt searing pain as her nails dug into his flesh. She raked him open from the base of his throat to his navel.

Matt fought to hold on to his consciousness through his fear and pain. Nyx raised her hand, and a cloud of crimson droplets rose and followed it. One by one, they joined into the silver swirl that still hung in the air above him.

Nyx leaned back and began to chant, but Matt's senses were slipping away and her voice was barely audible. He saw the spiral of bodily fluids slowly turn, moving closer to Nyx's face. She made a beckoning gesture and it disassembled into long, wavy tendrils. They streamed toward her, encircled her head, then flowed into her nostrils and her open mouth.

The multitude of faces looked on. Their whispering had risen to a cacophony.

The world went black. Matt felt nothing. There was no mattress beneath his back. Nyx's weight was gone from his loins. His hands were free but when he placed them on his torso, he touched no flesh.

Slowly, he gained some sense of his surroundings. He was not in total darkness, but in a dark fog. There were shapes a short distance in front of him, and when he thought to move closer to them, he did, by some means he did not understand.

The shapes were rough human forms. Most were male but there were a few females among them. They were shifting and ephemeral, forming, disintegrating, reforming. He could not see their faces as he approached, they were all turned to face a dimly lit central point.

He moved further forward, and the fog thinned. The light became brighter. He moved among the forms. When he touched them, they would drift away from each other, like objects floating on gentle waves.

He drew close enough to the edge of the fog that he could see through it.

He was gazing down into Nyx's room. He saw himself on the bed, his arms still shackled. Dark streaks ran across his torso and his penis lay, still half engorged, against his thigh.

His eyes were staring into the darkness. His mouth hung open and a line of drool ran across his cheek. I am a ghost, he thought, but then, with a great wave of revulsion, he noticed a slight motion. The body on the bed, his body, was still breathing in a shallow, halting manner.

Movement on the edge of the fog caught his attention. Two men, or some things that had once been men, approached the bed. They were naked. Their eyes were blank and their chins drooped. Nyx followed them, once again in her black dress and cloak.

She spoke to her minions, but her voice was muffled, as if it was coming from another room. Still, the tone of command was obvious. Moving slowly, the men each went to one side of the bed and unshackled Matt's wrists from the headboard. They put their hands under his shoulders and hoisted him to a sitting position.

Nyx gave another command and they pulled him to his feet. From the fog, Matt watched as his own body slowly shuffled mindlessly away with them. He felt nothing as it disappeared into the darkness. He was transfixed by Nyx as she moved about the room, snuffing each candle with a pinch of her fingers. He could not take his eyes off of her, mesmerized by the grace of her movements, the beauty of her face, the sensuousness of her body.

As she doused the candles, the room grew darker, until the last flame was extinguished and she was lost to his sight.

Nyx was gone, but he knew that she would return. When she did, he would be there, and he would watch her.