Wilder West Ch. 03

Back in the orgy room Molly raised her head, concentrating. If she'd actually been visible she would have looked like someone listening for something or even a bit like a hunting dog sniffing for game. The poor girl was confused; she was like an amnesiac, knowing something was amiss, but not what. When her thoughts were closest to clear she felt like she was on that edge of sleep and wakefulness when dreams and reality blend. She didn't know it consciously, but she'd stayed here in the room where she died ever since leaving the false comfort of the gypsy's enchanted crystal ball. There had been nothing to draw her from this place, nothing more powerful than the echoes of high passion that reverberated through the room. Neither customers, nor whores had been in the mood following the girl's death, so O'Reilly's had been without sex for going on a week, longer than it ever had since opening its doors. Tonight, however, something was happening, something magnetic, something compelling and the force that had been Molly McCoy flowed toward its element.

O'REILLY'S -- PRESENT DAY: The essence of Molly had never been weaker and its connection to the material world was tenuous at best. It had begun to move, like an iron filing toward a magnet, but suddenly it stopped, the link broken.

"Hey, it's cold!" Gina complained, breaking off her kiss with Paul.

"No wonder," offered Jerry as he and Barbara also let loose their lip lock. "Stretch left the window wide open."

Grinning sheepishly the basketball star quickly returned to the open window and brought it down with a bang. He arranged the black cloth Jerry had hung to keep anyone outside from seeing their lights and then turned around and shrugged. "Sorry."

"Hey," Jerry said slyly, "I'm glad you enjoy the party room, but are you ready to see the rest of the Haunted Mansion? It's pretty creepy."

"Yeah, sure," agreed his friends and the four teenagers entered the hall. "Wow, it's really cold out here!" declared Barbara, huddling into her coat.

"Yeah, most of the other windows in the place have broken glass or only boards," said their tour guide, Jerry. "Come on, this way," and he headed off to the right, away from Molly. "Check this out." He opened a door a little ways down the hall from theirs. "I almost set up in here because this room doesn't have any windows to let in a draft and it's already equipped with some very important accessories." The teens walked past him into the room and Barbara squealed in fright when the footing changed underneath and she nearly fell.

"What the ...?" exclaimed Paul as he also stumbled. Shining his flashlight down he saw that the floor was entirely covered with a mattress. The others shined their lights all around, exposing that the walls were covered the same way.

"A real padded room?" said Gina in awe.

"Wall to wall fucking," cheered her boyfriend, sharing a high five with Jerry.

"Why do I stay with such an immature perv?" asked Gina, shaking her head.

O'REILLY'S -- 1931: Dr. Gabriel Franck, formerly Chief Psychiatrist at O'Reilly's Asylum sat trussed up in a straitjacket in one of the padded rooms he himself had directed be installed. In a lucid state at the moment he sat up against one of the walls and pondered his fate. Yes, he recognized that gang raping patients was an unorthodox treatment, but it had certainly worked for Agnes Thompson, snapping her right out of her crippling, suicidal depression. And it wasn't as if it had really been his idea in the first place, was it? He had described the red headed demon to them so clearly, and they'd heard the same story from many over the years hadn't they? But still they refused to believe him. Accusing him first of faking mental illness to stay out of the regular prison, and then accusing him of actually being as crazy as any of his patients. But it was all true. Just let any of them try to stay at O'Reilly's for any length of time, then they'd see. They'd feel the incessant pressure in their groins, experience the memories and fantasies playing so vividly in their minds it was like watching live shows of your most forbidden thoughts, see the people around them through that red haze that made everyone's passions stand out. Yes, if only he could get them to come here for a day or two. If only he could get his mother to come here for a day or two, oh that would show the cold hearted bitch. Only she wouldn't be cold to him then, would she? No, she'd be hot, so hot for him, begging him to fuck her and he would, he and the red demon together they'd fuck mother so hard, make her beg for mercy.

Dr. George Sampson noted on his clipboard that the subject, Gabriel Franck, was once again violently dry-humping the padded floor as he did everyday, four or five times a day. Taking another look at the poor bastard through the small window in the door, he shook his head sadly and headed down the hall. Glancing at his watch he saw that it was almost 4:00, just about time for Nurse Crandall to come on shift. His step became livelier as he turned toward the nurses' station. He'd never really thought about cheating on his wife before, but something about Susan Crandall was just so hot...maybe it was that red hair.

O'REILLY'S -- 1872: "This is nice room, we go in here, okay?" urged Lee as she pulled Jacob across the threshold of a room that would one day be covered with padding instead of flocked wallpaper and Persian rugs. Ying Ma came after; closing the door behind them and helping her partner guide the big man to the large brass bed, where he sat hesitantly.

Things had been starting to get pretty wild out in the saloon after the first blowjob started, but no one really wanted to take the action back to the orgy room where Molly had died so recently. So by silent consent the various couples and other groupings had headed off to the whores' rooms to pay special tribute to the memory of Molly, Queen of Sluts.

Jacob was feeling sorely confused. Out front, when the two Chinese beauties had begun stroking, rubbing and squeezing him he had felt guilty and ashamed when his peter came alive under their touch. He felt like he was betraying Molly who hadn't been in the ground even a week. Then something had changed. It was almost like their last night together when they'd been fucking separate people side by side at the Halloween orgy. She hadn't been jealous or angry that he was screwing Ying Ma instead of her; instead Molly had been encouraging him, wanting him to give the tiny woman a good hard fuck. That's how it had felt in the saloon a few moments ago, like Molly was standing right there egging him on to plow his massive tool into the two whores.

When Molly had entered the saloon a rush of excitement swelled up inside her, here "it" was, that something she'd been unconsciously seeking as she tried to absorb the memories in the orgy room - hot sex. There was Jeannie on her knees sucking big Colin McCaffrey. She was doing it just right, just the way Molly had taught her and it looked so good it made the red head's juices flow. Then suddenly SHE was sucking Colin's hard cock. His throbbing pole was reaching into the top of her throat and she swallowed, clutching the sensitive head with her throat muscles. Then she WAS Colin and Oh My God is this what it feels like to have your dick sucked? No wonder men couldn't get enough of it! Looking down she saw his balls banging up against Jeannie's chin and the girl looked like such a slut with her mouth full of cock that Molly/Colin couldn't stand it and started spasming in orgasm, sending jets of cum down the whore's throat. No painful beating in the chest now, just wondrous release.

The big man stumbled back and sat down hard on the sofa. Fuck, it was like he'd never come before, he thought, that was incredible. He reached down and grabbed the girl by the arm, pulling her up to sit in his lap as he hugged her tight.

This felt so good Molly "thought", so right, just the way it should. But wait, somewhere nearby something was wrong. There was passion sitting, waiting in the pot, but only simmering, not coming to a boil. She flowed along the sofa. Lovely Lee! No, Lee was not the problem. There was a pool of sadness here, but Lee's internal fire was ready to go, to turn the sadness to steam and let it sail away. And Ying Ma! Molly spiritually stretched her limbs; how different it felt to be so petite. The red shadow laughed when she realized what it was that felt so different -- her tits. She'd been carrying around those big, heavy melons so long that she felt like a feather with Ying Ma's small, pert berries.

Ying Ma and Lee gazed at each other across the broad expanse of Jacob's chest. Each girl gave a slight nod to the other to say, yes, I feel her. Raised to be more in tune with the worlds around them the two young Asians realized that their beautiful white lover was with them now as an elemental, reduced to her most basic nature by the way she had lived and died. They could feel that her passion was still fueled by love, just as when she was alive and so they did not worry about her being trapped on this plane. They believed that eventually Molly's soul would rise to the next level after it had served its purpose here.

Jacob. Here was the problem, Molly sensed. Her beautiful man was so burdened with sadness that he wasn't taking joy from her friends' attentions, he was feeling...guilty? She reached out and stroked his cheek, ran her fingers along the strong jawline and then into the thick hair.

Jacob gasped, he could see the girls' hands on him, but not near his face and head, yet he could swear someone was gently massaging his temples the way Molly used to. Now the hands were reaching behind his head and pulling it forward where it met...a breast? He closed his eyes and yes, a full soft breast pressed against his lips. He inhaled; only Molly smelled like this and he breathed her deeply into his lungs. Now he felt hands in his lap, undoing the buttons of his trousers -- the Chinese girls working together to get to his cock! He clenched his legs together tightly and reached down to stop them, he couldn't act this way in front of Molly. But suddenly the hands he'd felt cradling his head were gripping his own hand, stopping it from interfering with Lee and Ying Ma. He was being made to reach out in front of him where he found a silk-covered mound; Molly's prominent sex with its fine red carpet. The lips were already opening, gaping a little and they were wet. Molly wasn't upset with him for being with the other girls, she was excited by it. "Yes!" flashed into his head with that thought. His guilt melted away as he realized that Molly wouldn't be any different in the afterlife than she'd been here; the feeling their hearts had for one another didn't interfere with the pleasure they shared between themselves and others.

O'REILLY'S -- PRESENT DAY: The October Gang reentered the hallway of the southern wing headed back toward their starting point. "Wow, this place is creepy," Barb said with a shiver. "I can't help but think about those poor patients locked up in their rooms. Some of the ways they treated mental patients, even less than a hundred years ago, was pretty barbaric."

"Well, just wait until you see what we have at the end of the hall," Jerry replied as he kept going past their party room. His flashlight picked out the handle of an oversized door and he reached out and pushed it open. Stopping in the doorway he gestured for the others to enter. "After you," he intoned in his best Bela Lugosi.

Barbara walked in hesitantly, flashlight pointed at the floor to avoid any more tripping like back in the padded room. This floor was plain white tile, chipped and cracked in many spots. The foursome played their beams back and forth exposing a room much larger than any of the others except for the common areas at the front of the hospital. This room also didn't have any windows. It seemed to have been sectioned off into smaller divisions by partial walls. Walls that were covered in white tile like the floor.

"What was this place?" asked Paul.

"Look over here," responded Jerry, gesturing with his flashlight. The beam landed on a waist-high wooden table mounted to the floor. "A surgical table," he explained. "I think this was the treatment room for patients who got sick or hurt. Although I'm not sure if you wouldn't sometimes be worse off After your treatment," he continued as he led the way around one of the separating walls. Here was a table much like the other, except it had the remnants of leather straps hanging off the sides and up above they could see a bundle of wires. Jerry guided his beam along the wires and showed where they ended in an electrical box of some sort.

"Electro-shock therapy?" Gina said in disbelief.

"A little 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' action in here my friends," Paul said with a manic tilt to his voice.

Barbara snuggled up against Jerry. "Let's get out of here; this place is too sad and creepy."

O'Reilly's former orgy room had indeed gone through a drastic, depressing transformation from the time Molly had died here, but it was still the place with the most sexual energy absorbed into the walls, so it was still the place she gravitated to when there was nothing else happening in the hotel. It was where she'd returned after losing the brief connection she'd had with the teenagers earlier. But now they were right on top of her and she tagged along with them when they headed back to their party room, almost like a burr they'd brushed up against and got caught in their clothes.

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October 2008 Sam's Island Publishing