Bad Moon Risin'

Jonathon Parker finally admitted it to himself, He was lost, totally and irrevocably fucking lost. He looked at the clock on the dashboard, 11.35PM.

"Some fucking Halloween this is," he thought to himself, "The Vicars and Tarts Party will be in full swing by now, and instead of getting fucked, here I am, lost on the Yorkshire fucking moors."

He thumped the steering wheel in frustration, as he tried to peer through the interminable rain that was lashing down. The lightening flashed again, followed by horrendous peal of thunder. All had been going well, until he was 50 miles up the M1 motorway, and realised he had forgotten both his cell phone, and his map. At least he had remembered to dress like a vicar, with his pristine white dog collar around his neck. Jonathan had considered turning back, but decided against it, he knew the general area where Byfield Hall was, and he could always stop and ask the way. What a mistake that had been, leaving his phone and map, with not a single fucking soul, or building to be seen anywhere.

The swinging set always had a Halloween get together, last years bash had been in Surrey, easy enough for him to find, and what a night it had been too. First a gang bang, with Annie Johnson taking on all comers, 8 men had fucked her, all three holes too, what an awesome fucker that Annie was. Later, he had joined up with the Thompson Twins, they were not twins of course, but God could they fuck and give wonderful head, he had discovered.

"But not this year Johnny boy, no fucking chance. Where oh where is this fucking road taking me too?"

Again he peered through the windscreen, trying to search the almost invisible horizon. He seemed to be on little more than a cart track now, and he considered turning round to retrace his tracks. The he realised, there was nowhere to turn around, and all that he could do was follow the road, and see where it took him. An open gateway appeared before him, leading to a sort of courtyard. He could just make out what looked like a farmhouse through the murk. An old plough, the kind pulled by a horse appeared briefly in his headlights. John stopped the car, doused the lights, and took in his surroundings, as best he could.

This was a farmyard, no doubt about it now, not just the plough, but an old cart as well, with a broken wheel. He looked towards the house, and could see light, but it was very dim, almost just a glimmer. But, what could he do, he was lost, at least there might be a phone he could use, and maybe get a hot drink also. He stepped from the car, dashing across the flooded yard, as lightening again lit up his depressingly dark night. Jonathon hammered on the door, shouting

"Hello, is anybody home?"

He waited, trying to protect his head from the rain that was still bucketing down around him. Again he thumped on the door, and was just about to shout once more, when it opened, just a fraction. A thin sliver of faint light, slashed across his legs. "At last" he thought to himself before speaking.

"I am sorry to disturb you so late, but I am totally lost. Please, is there any chance I can use your phone, to call my friends?"

The door opened wider, and John saw an old lady, 90 if she was a day he thought, holding up a hurricane lamp, and peering at him through her glasses. She was dressed in what could only be described as a tatty black dress, with a dirty old Paisley shawl around her shoulders. In any other setting, she would have looked like an archetypal witch. She answered Jonathon's question, in a croaky voice, which confirmed his suspicions about her age.

"I think that you had better come inside young man, out of the rain, don't you?"

He stepped inside, following the old lady, everything looked old, old and musty, and the place had a smell, "a damp almost earthy smell" he thought to himself.

"Please, would it be possible for me to use your phone, and call Byfield Hall? I am supposed to be at a Tart's & Vicar's party, hence my looking like a vicar, but I got totally lost I am afraid"

"Oh I am sorry Sir, we don't have none of them there telephones here, nor that new fangled electric stuff. Best thing be you stay here till morn Sir, then find your way in daylight I reckons."

Her croaky voice rasped like a rusty hacksaw blade on Jonathon's teeth, making him cringe. But, he realised that she was correct, there was no way out of here in the dark, and the pouring rain, that might not stop for hours yet. He looked at his watch, it was now a quarter to twelve, indeed, and he heard a clock chime the three quarter hour somewhere in the house.

"I suppose that you are correct, I wont find the Hall tonight, and it is probably best to wait till daylight, and then head on back home. If you don't mind that is? I hate to intrude upon your privacy."

"No, that be fine Sir, there is a room up top that you can use, but be quick, you need to be there before the hour of change Sir, Come, up these stairs, follow me."

He followed her, moving slowly behind the old lady, up three flights of stairs, and down a long dark corridor. He watched as she took a key from the ring at her waist, and heard it grate against the lock, as she turned the key. She pushed the door open, and Jonathon suddenly felt a cold chill, as the noise of the door creaking slowly open filled his senses. The old lady stepped inside, and lit two candles, that were already in place in brass candlesticks. One candle on each side of the bed. He watched from the doorway, unsure, a feeling of trepidation consuming him, then inwardly admonished himself, for being so stupid, and childish. "This woman was 90 if she was a day, there was nothing to fear here," he thought.

She turned to face him, looking almost stern now, and the friendly face of earlier having disappeared.

"You need to hurry Sir, please, come in now."

Jonathon entered slowly, looking around the room, as the woman handed the key to him. He heard the clock again, pealing for the hour, as it started to chime the four quarters.

"Here Sir, take the key, you must lock the door, before the first chime of midnight. You do know it be All Hallows Eve, don't you Sir?"

He looked at her, relaxing now, and smiling.

"Yes, I know that it is Halloween, but that is all superstition, its just another day in reality, isn't it?"

She stepped outside, and spoke again, her voice urgent now, almost pleading with him.

"Sir, lock the door from inside, NOW, please Sir, lock it."

She had barely finished speaking, when the first chime of midnight rang out, from the clock downstairs.

"BONG"

Jonathon started to move towards the door, only managing two steps, before stopping dead, and staring out through the doorway.

The darkness had been replaced by light, not white, but a deep dark shade of blue. Almost fanning out like a halo, an aura, from the frail old woman that had let him into this place. But she was not frail anymore; the bend in her back had gone. She stood tall, long hair falling about and past her shoulders. Her eyes now steel blue, matching the aura that she was now generating a force throughout the house it seemed. Jonathon could feel them, her eyes, piercing into his head, his mind, and his brain. He could only stand and watch, his legs seemingly frozen in place.

Subtle changes were happening now, the blue light, interlaced with flashes of silver, growing stronger with every passing moment. The drab clothes that the old woman had been wearing; now almost seemed to change, into a sheer silk gown. A see through gown, Jonathon could now see her full breasts, and two dark nipples, pushing out against the material. His gaze lowered, to the small triangle of dark pubic hair, at the join of her legs. He wanted to pinch his skin, to see if he was dreaming, but movement he had not, all he could do was watch, and then, listen, as the "creature before him spoke, in a sultry husky voice, that just dripped with sexual innuendo.

"Too late Jonathon, My Lord had promised me a gift, and My Lord has delivered."

She paused for a moment, as if she was composing herself, and then continued.

"You will only speak when I allow it Jonathon, for now you are mine, to do with as I wish. You remind of another Jonathon I knew once, his name very similar to yours, hmmm, it must have been over a hundred years since him. Maybe you have heard of him? I believe there was a book written, Jonathon Harker? Does that ring a bell I wonder?"

It certainly did, and even though Jonathon could not move, he could think, and remember. Jonathon Harker had been a Bram Stoker character. His heart sank slowly, as he remembered Jonathon Harker`s untimely end.

"I see you do remember your namesake Jonathon, how apt, and, how fortuitous for me."

He was trying desperately not to look at her face, but could not help it; he had no control over his eyes it seemed. He looked at her full red lips, and had to admit they were beautiful. Watching, as her tongue snaked out, licking them lasciviously. He looked into her eyes, immediately feeling the control that she had, knowing that it would be useless to resist, and probably very painful also.

"I will release you Jonathon, and then you will take off all your clothes, and lie on your back on the bed, spread-eagled. Do not even think of trying to escape little man, for my retribution will be swift, and very severe."

Jonathon felt his muscles relaxing, as movement now returned to his limbs, consumed by fear, he knew that he had to try, to run from this evil apparition. He had hardly made a single step toward the doorway, when her hand rose up slightly, and a bolt of blue light flashed from her fingertips. His leg giving way beneath him, as excruciating pain seemed to cut right through his kneecap. Jonathon lay on the floor, looking up at her, seeing the smile upon her lips.

"I did warn you Jonathon, let that be a lesson to you, you do not fuck with Lady Madeleine, NEVER. Now, strip, and lie on the bed."

Slowly, he got to his feet, and started to remove his clothing, he was not normally shy about his body, for it was quite muscular. He was also fairly well endowed, the ladies told him, just short of 8 inches erect, and fairly thick with it. But at this moment in time, he felt shy, his cock tending to shrivel, as he tried to cover his genitals from her view. He lay on the bed, naked, but with his hands still covering his groin.

"Now don't be shy Jonathon, your size is of no matter to me yet, as you will discover. Out with your arms and legs, spread yourself for your Mistress Jonathon. Yes, I said your Mistress, and if I allow you to speak, you may only refer to me as Mistress. Have you got that Jonathon?"

"Yes Mistress." He managed to croak, in a subservient voice that surprised him.

She raised both of her hands, pointing at the bed, and staring deep into his eyes, locking his gaze. He could not see the straps, which circled around his ankles and wrists, but he could certainly feel them. He tried to pull against them, to free his limbs, but totally without any success. She moved closer, gliding across the floor, rather than walking, her hand slipping under his head, lifting it, as she placed a pillow there.

"I want you to see this Jonathon."

Moving to the end of the bed, she stood before him, unfastening the tie at her neck, and letting the gown drop from her shoulders. Jonathon gasped, as the room filed with a soft white light, and his eyes at last took in the vision of her body. She turned around slowly, as Jonathon watched, marvelling at her milky white skin, and perfectly proportioned body. Lady Madeleine had long black hair, in ringlets, hanging down to her waist. The swell of her buttocks, looking soft, yet firm.

She faced him, her round soft breasts heaving slightly as she breathed, the nipples hard and erect, with a purple hue about them. Her hand moved, to brush against the dark triangle of pubic hair, leading the way to her sex. He watched in fascination, as her hand slipped between her legs, and she pushed a finger upwards, between her pussy lips. Sighing as she slowly worked it in and out, and then licked it clean.

"Do you like the taste of wet pussy Jonathon? Would you like to taste Mistress's cunt?"

"Yes Mistress, I do, and I would love to taste you Mistress."

Jonathon could not believe his ears, he had no intention of saying anything, and yet he had, "or was it someone else?" He wondered. Again she fingered herself, and then moved, to slip her finger between his lips, watching as he licked and sucked upon it. His cock was now responding, he could not help it. Tasting and eating pussy, was the one thing in the world he loved more than any other. Removing her hand, Mistress took hold of his cock, pressing it against his belly, before straddling him, and lowering her wet pussy against the length of his cock. She groaned a little, before moving slowly, and with subtle little movements, began sliding back and forth on Jonathon's shaft, wetting it thoroughly.

She slid a little higher up Jonathon's torso, leaving a wet trail on his body, as she cupped a breast.

"Suck it." She said to him, pushing her nipple between his lips, and moaning as he followed her command.

"Oh fuck yes, bite it, pull on it, hurt me you fucker, and bite me."

H bit her, not too hard at first, then increasing the pressure, as she pulled back, stretching out her nipple and tit against his teeth. She offered him the other tit, her free hand between her legs, rubbing furiously at her clit. Jonathon was now enjoying this, somewhat against his will, but nevertheless, he was.

"STOP"

Jonathon immediately stopped biting her nipple, opening his mouth in surprise. He watched as she moved higher up his body. Rising up, so that she was hovering above him, as he stared straight at her sex. Her hands came to her lips, pulling them open, very wide open, as she lowered herself onto his mouth. Jonathon licked at her lips, now wet, and swollen, catching her fingertips as well, while she moaned softly. She tasted delicious; he could not deny that, even though he was still concerned about the eventual outcome of this scenario. She started to slide back and forth, rubbing her pussy against his mouth and tongue, one hand against the wall, the other twisting her hard nipple.

"Yes, just like that Jonathon, eat me, eat your Mistress, oh fuck yes."

He could not touch her, to position her pussy above his face, and had to rely totally upon her movements. She slid back a little, telling him to suck on her clit, and bite it.

"Make Mistress come Jonathon, suck and bite it, pull it for fucks sake,"

Being in no position to argue, he bit on her rosebud, trying to push his head back into the pillow as he pulled. Hearing her screaming in pleasure.

"Oh Christ I am going to come, tongue fuck me, ram it in my cunt now, go on, taste my come you fucker, now, NOW."

He held his tongue rigid, as her opening seemed to expand, and took his tongue in, clenching against it, while her spasms shook all of her being. She did not gush, as Jonathon had feared she might. Worrying that if she squirted, as had happened with other women, he might even drown in her wine. It trickled free from her cunt slowly, allowing him to drink, and savour at her fountain. Licking her, sucking when he could, and generally lapping at this vibrant cunt above his face.

She moved off his body, standing by the bed, and looking down at him, with lust filled eyes, now almost half closed.

"Close your eyes, Mistress desires to taste her come on your face."

He did as ordered, retreating into temporary blindness, and waiting expectantly. Jonathon was now sure that he was going to die on this night. He could see no other outcome, and he also knew that he could not get out of it. His bonds were too tight, and this woman, this thing, had complete control of his body. His whole being belonged to her now, and maybe even forever.

Her hot breath came first, softly grazing the skin on his face, quickly followed by her tongue, the tip slowly licking around his mouth. It was the most erotic thing that he had ever experienced, making his cock throb with excitement and anticipation. Almost as if she was reading his mind, Jonathon felt her fingers wrap around his shaft, as she started to stroke it. Licking slowly all over Jonathon's face, she stroked his cock relentlessly, occasionally moaning to herself. He felt her hair, trailing across his face, and her breath close to his ear, as she released his cock. Without warning, she gripped Jonathon's throat, in a vice like manner, and hissed into his ear.

"Remember little man, I am the one in control here, and even if you want to come, no matter what I do, you will not be able to. I control both yourself, and your body, and you will only be able to come when I say so."

He opened his eyes, in shock at the strength of her grip, and the severity of her words. He watched, as she moved again, settling between his legs, and taking hold of his rock hard dick, cooing gently, almost talking to it. He felt it first, in his cock, a strengthening almost, a sharp pain that made him jump a little. He tried to raise his head more, to look closer, and stared in abject horror. His cock was growing, fattening out, and increasing in length, as this thing above him talked to it. In what seemed to be no time at all, his almost 8 inches was now 10 inches plus, he was sure of it, and it was fatter, the veins throbbing, and standing out now. She looked at him, an evil smile on her lips, her voice once again husky and sultry.

"That`s more like it little man, if Mistress is to be filled, and stretched, then it must be done properly eh?"

He said nothing; fearful now, terrified even, of what she might do next. Holding him with two hands now, she licked at the heads, lapping at the steady stream of precum that was now oozing free of him. It felt wonderful and the excitement, combined with the fear, was a lethal combination. He wanted so bad to come, to get his release, and shoot his load out. Squeezing his leg and groin muscles, he tried, My God how he tried. She flashed her dark eyes at him, and once again hissed, in her horrible crackly voice.

"When I say little man, and not before."

Her hand left his cock, grabbing at his balls, and squeezing HARD, making him scream out in agony. Dismissing his scream with a cursory glance, she opened her mouth wide. Struggling almost, to push the head of his cock between her lips. Again he watched in disbelief, as her mouth seemed to stretch, almost like elastic, to take his cock in. She immediately took him deep, he could feel her throat, as his cock touched it, and her muscles squeezed him. She had deep throated him, on the very first thrust, her nose against his groin as she sucked, and licked him.

Closing his eyes, Jonathon tried to relax, to ease the feelings welling up inside, the need to orgasm, to feel the release of his sperm, but it was useless, she had him, and there was not a thing that he could do about it. She fucked him with her mouth; there was no other way to describe it. Her head bobbing up and down, faster and faster, rubbing her clit with one hand, and groaning in pleasure, until she came. Shouting and screaming in pleasure, her orgasm wracking her body, as her teeth scraped on Jonathon's dick. Slowly she released him, before rising up, onto her knees, her pussy directly over his engorged cock.

"Would you like Mistress to fuck you now little man?"

"Yes Mistress." He replied feebly

"What sort of an answer is that you little fucker you. Do you want your cock in my cunt or what? Dont be shy, you can tell me, I wont bite, you, well, not yet."

She laughed at him, that horrible cackle once more grating on his ears.

"Yes Mistress, I want you to fuck me, to take me, make me your slave and fuck me hard, please Mistress, PLEASE."