The Chase


Lindsay awoke to the sound of a distant police siren cutting through the night like a banshee's shrill wail. He lay in the darkness of the tiny motel room for a few confused moments with his arm across his face, forgetting where he was, why he was there.

Memories returned and with them came the cold grip of fear. He quickly lunged over to turn on the lamp, assuring himself there was nothing else in the room. The dull light showed he was sprawled across the old, worn bed still in his underwear after a much needed shower. With a groan, he sat up and held his throbbing head in his hands. He had only meant to stay for a few hours when he had checked into the isolated, rundown motel earlier that afternoon.

The motel might have been modern and serviceable when it was built decades ago, but without the highway traffic to support it the place had fallen into disrepair. The bathroom and bed were clean if dilapidated and dingy, but Lindsay hardly noticed.

He was exhausted, physically and mentally. He had been running for so long, interminably fleeing his every waking moment until he could barely remember his life before this nightmare had started.

There were still some recollections in of the past buried in his sleep-deprived mind if he made the effort to dig them out: a decent, sedentary job as a computer programmer, no worries greater than his rent and car payments, blissful ignorance of what existed out there in the shadows of the so-called real world.

His money was running low, his bank account almost gone and his credit cards nearly maxed out, but he had to pay to stay in motels even for the inadequate rest he stole during the day. He couldn't afford to be taken in or detained by the police or highway patrol for even a few hours. Constant, headlong flight was his only chance.

He swung off the bed and staggered to the bathroom, his throat parched. In the stark, fluorescent light, Lindsay stared at himself in the dull mirror. Healed scratches were barely visible lines across the bare skin of his neck, torso and arms. He had lost weight, he couldn't remember his last decent meal. He couldn't remember how long he had been running, whether weeks or months had passed, but it had hardened him, mentally and physically, forcing him to find resilience and strength he had never known he possessed.

He splashed tepid water across his unshaven face and drank handfuls until his throat no longer felt sore. He had to leave at once. The day was his only chance for rest, he had to keep moving once it was night.

Lindsay walked swiftly back out to the bedroom, but before he could grab his travel-stained duffle bag and tug on his wrinkled jeans and shirt, the locked and bolted door of the motel room swung open.

She stood there. Lindsay had known who it was before the door opened, there was no one else it could be. A small, slender figure standing poised in the doorway in a baggy leather jacket and tight, black miniskirt, leather gloves on her hands and an expensive purse slung over her shoulder. Silvery-white hair, wild and unruly, was cut short in back and draped over in the front, hiding half her face. The silvery color of the tresses looked like a bad dye-job, though Lindsay knew it wasn't. Pale, smooth skin shown luminescent in the dim lamplight.

"Hi," she said simply and walked inside. She wore a tight pink top under the jacket and her skirt clung to curving hips, below elegant legs were outlined in black fishnet stockings.

"You're slowing down, Lindsay. You didn't get nearly as far today," her voice was musical and entrancing with an accent that might have been Irish but was actually something far, far older.

Her head turned toward him, Lindsay knew she could see perfectly well even with her hair hanging in front of her face. He stood frozen in terror, unable to move or make a sound.

"Maybe you're letting me catch up. Did you think about that?" she asked him, tossing aside the purse and shrugging off her jacket. Her firm breasts were clearly displayed by the meager half-top that left her sleek belly bare. Her skirt rode very low on her hips and Lindsay knew the only thing she wore underneath was her stockinghose. "Maybe you're finally getting tired of trying to get away. You can't you know. No human male can escape a Mahdron Sidhe."

Sidhe. Lindsay hadn't known what one was before he met her. Wouldn't have known to pronounce it 'she'. Wouldn't have believed the ancient legends which told of sinister faerie lovers who delighted in tormenting the men they chose as partners.

"Stay away," Lindsay croaked, finally able to speak and move, edging toward his duffle bag. "Just stay back, Sifania."

She ignored him, walked over to the bed and took a jumping seat on it, testing its springs with several bounces of her bottom. "I have some bread and biscuits, sorry cookies I mean, if you want to have something to eat first," she offered him.

Lindsay knew better than to eat any food offered by a faerie. At least all those computer role playing games had taught him something about myths. He never would have had the chance to run at all if he had consumed anything she ever prepared for him.

She was pulling off her gloves and kicking off her boots, tucking her stockinged legs underneath herself on the bed. Her hands small and slender but her fingers were inhumanly long and they had wickedly sharp claws on them. She turned her head up to him and her disorderly hair tilted to the side, from the nose down she could have been a beautiful, human woman, pert nose, perfect, heart-shaped lips and a slender chin.

Behind her hair and above the line of her nose, she was a monster, her eyes were feral, yellow pits of glowing malevolence, her brow curved forward and down where the bridge of her nose should have been, she had no eyebrows only only rows of small, sharp scaled ridges, it was a face reminiscent of a shark or some other sea creature even more ancient and vicious that had swam through primordial oceans.

"You better eat something, you're going to need your strength," she told him, and her mouth split into a voracious smile, her glinting white teeth were double rows of jagged fangs.

Lindsay made a wild lunge for his duffle bad and dragged out an old, rusted crowbar. It had been hard finding one that wasn't made from tempered steel. Gripping the crowbar in both hands, he brandished it at the slim, other-than-human woman sitting on the bed.

She looked at him calmly, her delicate nostrils flaring as she caught the scent.

"Pure cold iron. You are learning," she admitted. "No more silly guns and useless bullets. But that's not going to be enough to keep you from me."

"I'm not letting you get close this time," Lindsay threatened.

"I won't have to, Lindsay. You'll come to me," she said and rose up from the bed, turning her back to him and lifting her arms to pull her top off over her head.

Lindsay's hands began to shake as the Sidhe began to undress. There was a row of short spines that led from the back of her neck and down between the shoulder blades of her smooth, gracefully muscled back, a bare back that would have looked very enticing without the inhuman spines.

Then she turned around, her lips turned in small teasing smile and her arms crossed over her chest. She slowly dropped her hands and spread her arms apart and let him look at her without the slightest blush of embarrassment. He tried not to see the curves of her perky breasts or her translucent, flawless skin. He tried to remind himself what would happen if he let the crowbar drop and took her into his arms the way he was already longing to do.

"I told you. No human male can escape a Sidhe," she said, undoing the button down the side of her skirt. It snapped free of her hips, leaving her in only her fishnet stockings and Lindsay knew he was lost. The crowbar fell from his hands to the floor as a horrible, unearthly desire filled him as he gazed at the enticing, snowy white thatch of hair between her thighs. Unable to stop himself, he strode forward and pulled her into a crushing embrace, burying his face into her silky hair.

She sighed with pleasure and wrapped her arms around him, giving a squeeze in return with her claws digging into the muscles of his back. She pulled them both back toward the waiting bed and Lindsay felt himself respond to the soft luxury of her naked body.

"No. Don't," grunted Lindsay through gritted teeth, even as he arms kept her close, but she was already dragging him onto the bed with her, pulling him down on top of her. She was much smaller than him but there was inhuman strength in her limbs. She easily scrapped off his underwear with nimble hands as she leaned back on the bed, her lithe, stocking-clad legs sliding up and wrapping around him.

"Ah yes!!" Sifania gasped as she pulled at Lindsay with her arms and legs and the hard, throbbing erection he had not even been aware he had possessed suddenly slid into her warm, eager body.

"No, God no," Lindsay groaned in answer, unable to stop himself from letting his weight sink completely onto her and driving himself all the way into her. Pleasure coursed through him as he arched above the feminine creature squirming under him, supernatural delight washing through his mind, trying to claw at his sanity and tear away his will.

He might have been able to pull away in that first moment, but her fingers dug painfully into his shoulders and her legs were tense and clamped around his hips, allowing no chance to win his way free.

There was only one other way to end the horrid, unearthly sensations that threatened to consume him. Desperately, he slid his hands under her smooth hips and took gripping handfuls of her bare, rounded bottom. He began to thrust with frantic haste, moving as fast and hard he could, the springs under their bodies complaining as the bedframe began to jump with his efforts.

He closed his eyes, trying to trick himself into believing it was an ordinary woman under him, her warmth and softness the result of human passion and desire, not unearthly lust and faerie appetites. He almost succeeded, the swiftly growing ecstasy filing him as he tried to bring himself to climax before she could realize what he was doing.

But then her small, supple body went taut under him and she pushed him back, her shocking, yellow eyes staring up at him from her frightening face with a malicious, knowing stare.

"I don't think so," she gave him a fanged smile that chilled him to the bone. She tightened herself around his manhood until he gave a gasp of pain.

He ignored the sudden, excruciating tightness and desperately drove harder at her, heaving himself within her embracing arms and legs, her fishnet stockings leaving red marks on his skin. Straining hard with his teeth gritted tight, he almost reached the edge of the release he sought but just as he was about to climax, she grabbed his head and dragged his face down into a deep kiss.

Her mouth was very, very sweet, but her tongue was disturbingly thin and long. It snaked far into his mouth while the fork at its tip painfully pulled and tugged at his own tongue like a tiny, grasping hand. Far worse was the nearness of her eyes, now less than an inch away as they kissed, her golden, unnerving stare boring into his mind and keeping him from breaking their gaze or even closing his eyes.

She stopped his climax, he did not know how, but just as he reached the point of agonizing, welcome relief, his body was stopped short, leaving him with only the distress and physical anguish of his unfulfilled effort.

"You don't think I'll let you end it so quick, do you?" she broke the kiss to snarl into his ear. "You're not going to get away with doing that this time. Now move."

The last word was spoken in the inhuman, musical language of faerie, but Lindsay knew what it meant even though he did not speak a word. That single utterance reached down into his being and made him start to move his hips, cycling them between her clutching thighs against his will as he laid himself across her body, unable to stop himself.

"No. No, don't do this," Lindsay gasped, gripping the sides of the bed and trying to shove himself away even as he continued to forcefully thrust at her, the pressure and torment of his halted climax growing worse even as the anguish was mixed with a renewed pleasure from the velvety feel of her body, her stiff, aroused nipples pressing into his chest as she wiggled beneath him.

"Mmmm, that's the way. Faster," she told him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, reaching far down to dig her claws into his back and drawing her knees up higher until they were almost under his arms.

"Oh God," he groaned. The pain became much worse as his pumping increased in speed in response to her command, his hips going faster with each passing moment. He had heard the old stories of faerie music making humans who heard it dance until they died from exhaustion. Lindsay had another song filling his ears now, the lilting, feminine gasps and grunts of inhuman pleasure that goaded him on with an unearthly compulsion, forcing him to ignore his straining muscles and sexual anguish.

He drove himself deep within her body until she was lifting up her back from the mattress, crying out his name in ecstacy, heedless of the obvious suffering in every tense line of his harshly rigid body above her, or perhaps she was aware but only more aroused by his pain.

"Ah!AH!Oooohhh!!Don't stop!Don't stop!" she shouted.

She pulled her stockinged legs up even higher and slid them around his arms until her slim ankles were resting on his shoulders in a limber, flexible pose which left her laying folded in half underneath him. The position had her thighs forcing him a little bit away from her but her hands still gripped his neck, keeping him in place as she smiled and gazed hungrily up at him, her disturbing yellow eyes fervent and voracious.

Lindsay could not look away even though it horrified and unnerved him to stare at that inhuman, ecstatic face, her features a macabre combination of eerie beauty and monstrous horror. Part of him struggled to break free and escape and part of him intensely yearned for her in spite of his fear and torment.

"AHHHH!!" she finally screamed as she climaxed, throwing her head back as tears of pure joy burst down her cheeks. Lindsay could feel her shuddering in his arms as pleasure washed through her. He was abruptly released from the faerie spell that compelled him to keep moving but not the one that prevented him from bringing an end to their coupling by ejaculating into her.

He still moaned in relief as he was able to stop thrusting and collapsed on top of her, his rigid erection sore and throbbing and still buried deep within her. It hurt too much to try to draw it out and he could only lay there, gasping along with her as they both recovered their breath.

"Mmmmm, that was nice," she eventually whispered and he felt her lips form into a wicked smile against the side of his neck. He felt a knowing chill of dread just before she pushed him over onto his back with a shove, keeping him inside of her as she sat up and straddled his body.

"But we've only just begun," she grinned down at him, her accent thick as she ran her hands over his chest and dragged her fingers down so her claws left deep scratches in his skin.

She began to lift herself up and drove her whole body weight down onto him. Lindsay yelled out, his aching manhood still trapped inside her warm, painfully tight channel as she plunged herself onto him. The excruciating pain of the sensation almost brought tears to his eyes and he had to clench his arms tightly at his sides, gritting his teeth against the anguish.

"Stop it! Oh God, that hurts! STOP!" he groaned, knowing it was useless. She only smiled even wider and began to quicken her pace, sliding her soft thighs against his sides and heaving herself above him until the bed was swaying like a ship at sea.

"I'm only just starting, you sweet man. We have a nice, long night ahead of us," she laughed and cried out with eager delight, suddenly tightening her body around his erection so fiercely the pain made Lindsay black out.

He had drifted back and forth into consciousness while Sifania rode him on the bed for what felt like hours. She climaxed more times than he could count, biting and clawing at his body in her passion while she relentlessly used him. Her spell kept him hard and rigid, restraining him from releasing himself in a climax and the frustrated, throbbing torment had exhausted him worse than any of the exertions she made him perform for her enjoyment.

The scratches, the bruises and the aching, horrible pain would have been bad enough, but Lindsay was assaulted by a growing longing and desire as the faerie woman used him. He could feel her will trying to force him to give into her, to yield to the seductive pleasures she offered that would end his suffering. But Lindsay resisted, sometimes barely holding on to his reason by his fingernails, until she finally decided to take a break from their efforts and take a shower, leaving him feeble and weak on the bed, his throbbing manhood still erect and painfully hard.

The sound of the water running in the bathroom drew Lindsay out of his sore, fatigued stupor. Biting back a moan, he cautiously pushed himself up, all too aware that Sifania could hear even the slightest rustling of the sheets from the bathroom. He thought the echoing splashing of the water might be enough to cover the noise, and he slowly got to his feet, almost unable to support his weight and nearly falling to his knees. It was his chance, he realized, while she was refreshing herself in the shower. He had to escape, though he could not imagine how he was going to manage putting on a pair of pants over his aching manhood. But he had to leave before she started with him again, sometimes she would not stop using him until the dawn came.

He was trying to mentally plan how he could dress himself and flee out the door without making any noise, when Lindsay suddenly realized he was standing in the doorway to the bathroom. He had walked over without meaning to, drawn there by the same unearthly compulsion which kept him hard and erect. His naked reflection in the mirror looked haggard, fresh new scratches covered a great deal of his torso, but Lindsay barely noticed, his eyes were drawn to the shower.

Through the foggy glass doors, he could see her. Her lithe, slim body outlined through the glass, moving with a sensual, unnatural grace. His mind screaming insanely at him, but Lindsay walked over to the shower and slid the door open.

She turned to face him, her hair wet and matted down, her inhuman, monstrous features starkly plain as rivulets of water glistened all over her alluring body.

"Why hello," she said, gazing up at him with her sinister yellow eyes. Lindsay did not speak as he stepped into the shower and pushed her nude body back against the tiled wall. She let him lift her slender form up in his arms and with his mind still shrieking silently at him, he let her down onto his erection.

"Uuhhh!" he groaned at her eager tightness.

"Ahhh!!! Mmmmm," she murmured blissfully as he entered her.

It was even more painful than before but he could not stop himself. He held her up off the floor pressed against the shower wall, her head leaning against him, the warm water running down her face, her eyes closed as she luxuriated in his embrace.

"Let's finish this," he moaned against the side of her wet, dripping head, no longer resisting her, no longer fighting. "I'll do what you want."

"Take us back to the bed," she whispered, her arms helping him as he held her under her buttocks and carried her, dripping and wet, back to the bedroom. She stared up at him as he carried her to the bed, her yellow eyes half suspicious, half aroused by his willingness.

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byGroade© 7 comments/ 20196 views/ 32 favorites

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