The Crypt of Unthinkable Dreams

The Crypt of Unthinkable Dreams
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ISBN:  9781780803203
Author:  J. Waters
Word Count:  8,878
Format:  eBook

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You look around as best you can. You're still in the sinister mausoleum, in the center of it. You feel the bitter cold of the marble slab beneath you. Your wrists are pulled together above your head and held to the slab by the chains, and your ankles likewise at the other end, although they are pulled and secured apart. Your movement is very limited. You cannot even scream; there's a gag in your mouth, tied behind your head...

A road sign looms into view through the swirling fog, Turn of the Century Cemetery Ahead. A little further on another sign, hand-painted on old weathered fencing material, says to turn left, onto an older gravel road. Trees seem to block out any brief glimpses of moonlight, the branches closing overhead. In the rear-view mirror all that can be seen is red rear lights blurring into the thickening fog and drizzly mist. The darkness envelopes like a thief's cloak. There's a clearing ahead, a crumbling gray and green stone wall approaching through blurred headlights. Heavy iron gates loom, rusty and twisted and weathered, leading to bondage, domination, and submission...

To your right you see shadowy, black and gray marble steps leading up to an arched doorway. The heavy wooden door has iron straps and hinges bracing it together. You move your head around to see the rest of the room, in itself a difficult task with the leather collar and its chain pinning you to the marble slab. Areas of the walls are covered with green and brown vines that have crept in from outside, and there are some stalls, in which you can see partially decayed caskets, and flickering light dances from freestanding candelabras and taunts you with macabre glimpses of the weathered bone occupants that remain in this place.
   It fills you with dread, and makes you feel you're in some terrifying, ancient, surreal morgue.
  The lights splutter and spit as a gust of wind drifts into this frightening place, causing the shadows to dance like frenzied harridans across the walls and vines and webs and twisted bones, up to a skylight in the open stone roof. You can barely make out the moon and some stars as they reflect their mystical wisdom down upon you. You feel the cold marble against your back, as the night air turns from chilled to a morbidly encompassing cold.
   You hear the creaking of the heavy door as it opens. The chain attached to your collar rattles as you look fearfully and see hooded figures walking silently down the marble steps, and you suppress the scream that wants to wrench itself from your lungs. As the figures approach you and the marble altar you're chained to not a word is spoken. One stands at your widely parted feet, as two others stand beside you on either side of your head.
   You hear the deep voice of a man tell you to relax and do as you're told. You gasp as icy fear increases its ever-tightening grip on you. The hood and shadows hide his face, but his voice is deep and disturbing as he tells you you're not going to make a sound. He tells you he would not be at all pleased if you did, and with your wide, fearful eyes you tell him you won't.
   His hands are cold against your neck as he unties the gag, then moves it up to your eyes and ties it firmly again behind your head. Now you know it's black velvet and you can see nothing. Your senses are spinning with fear and the trepidation of what might happen to you. Your mind races as your heart speeds like never before. You hear the man tell you to be quiet again, otherwise you know what will happen.
   You feel a second figure touch the chains around your ankles, then slowly run his hands up your legs, fingers caressing your calves, then your knees, and then he takes hold of the hem of your red dress and pushes it up your thighs. You hear the first hooded stranger say, 'Here you go, let me help you...' and you feel the cold steel of a knife against your flesh as he begins pulling up on one of the spaghetti straps of your dress. He cuts it, and it falls freely away from you. He moves the blade slowly across your skin, loitering for a few seconds in your cleavage, as if teasing you with it, and then he lifts and cuts the other strap with a deft flick of his wrist.
   He murmurs something you don't really hear, then slides the cold blade down between your breasts. You want to breathe, but you daren't. But then you have to and your breasts rise and fall from your labored panting. Further within your ruined dress moves the knife, deep between your cleavage, until it engages and catches against the stretched lace of your white bra that nestles between your quivering breasts. You hold your breath again, knowing what to expect, and then you gasp as you hear the phlit! of razor-sharp metal slicing upward through the hopelessly defenseless lace, the subtly of the movement making your breasts quiver again.
   Now it is easy for them to fold your dress down and pick the cups of your bra aside, exposing your firm, ripe, breasts. To your shame and dismay you know your naked nipples are hardening in the cold air. They stiffen until they actually ache. The chill of the night has induced tiny goose bumps all over your body... your inexplicably excited body.
   You feel the cold steel drifting over one of your breasts, tracing the underside, moving upward until it reaches your hardening nipple and toys with it for a moment, making you want to die with shock and shame. Now it moves down into your beasts' inviting valley again, and then up the other side to your other nipple as you bite down on your lip so as not to make a sound. Your confused mind is filled with mixed emotions of shameful excitement and fear of what might happen to you.
   You feel the knife lift away from your flesh, and then you gasp as the stranger leans down and nibbles one of your erect nipples, dragging his teeth across the tender tip and giving it a firm bite. Then he sucks it deep into his mouth and devours more of your soft flesh, his flickering tongue tormenting your spinning emotions. You feel the stranger rise up, releasing your breast from his mouth, and then he drags the knife down across the center of your ribcage to the hollow of your tummy. You feel the pressure from the cold steel tip as it moves across you, then you feel your dress being tugged, causing you to lift your hips slightly. You hear and feel the skirt being sliced up the middle, between your parted thighs, from hem to waist, until finally the dissected material parts completely and is folded aside onto the cold marble slab, revealing your shivering, chained body, naked apart from your delicate white panties.
   You know the moonlight is shining on your bare flesh as you lay there, utterly helpless, framed by the tatters of your red dress and flimsy white bra. The stranger runs the knife over your shamefully moistening panties, brazenly tracing the outline of your pussy lips through the silky material, pressing the vicious blade against your bed of soft pubic curls. He finds your aching clit and you hold your breath again, hoping he'll be careful and won't hurt you, and then you exhale slowly as the blade moves down one outer lip to the start of the valley of your shapely ass, and then back up the other swelling lip.
   Now he's sliding the cold, exploring blade across your inner thigh. With the fingers of his free hand you feel the stranger begin to pussy spank your clit through your wet panties as you let out a small moan and begin to squirm, the chains rattling as you do. The knife passes your knee, now it's against your calf, and then it proceeds to turn and make its way back up the outside of your thigh, slowly, up, up, until it probes beneath the edge of your panties as they moisten even more. You jerk a little as the stranger cuts through the side of your panties, exposing almost all of your body to the macabre strangers. The blade moves on, up to your tensed tummy, where it moves in small circles around your belly button. Then it's under your panties on the other side, at your hip, and they are cut away from your silky smooth body with arrogant ease.
   You lay on the cold slab totally naked and exposed, utterly at the cloaked strangers' mercy as the knife begins moving down once again, tracing the outside of your other leg. Then it moves back up as you feel a hard smack of the stranger's fingers against your naked clit. They pinch it firmly and rub.
   The hooded stranger, the one who seems to be in charge, leans over you and bites your inner thigh, grinding his teeth against your tender flesh. You want to squeal in protest, but you dare not. The stranger begins sucking as he bites, first one thigh and then the other. You feel his cold hand cupping your sex mound, his palm stroking your soft pubic hair, and then squeezing firmly. Another hand strokes your shoulder, your cheek, your throat, and then meanders down and cups your perfect breast. You think it's him, but you can't be sure.
   What are the others doing? Are they just watching, wishing they could touch you too? Or is that one of the others caressing your breast? You don't know. You can't see and you don't know what the others are doing. Your attention comes back to the first stranger as you feel him shifting position slightly. The hand that cups your sex moves so that the thumb rests firmly against your traitorously aroused clit. The hand molesting your breast moves away for a moment, and then the fingers pinch and roll your nipple, sending exquisite shards of painful excitement to the core of you. Your lips feel dry, and you instinctively moisten them with the tip of your tongue. Your breasts rise and fall and shudder as you breathe deeply, trying to suppress the reprehensible pleasure you're shocked to be experiencing. But the breath catches in your throat and you cannot suppress the staccato gasp escaping your lips as the stranger suddenly sinks two fingers deep inside your tight wet pussy. The thumb rotates against your aching clit as the fingers begin probing inside you.
   The fingers at your nipple move away, and the hand drifts along your side to your hip, giving you a tingling pleasure as it drags against your smooth skin. The fingers in your wet pussy begin moving in and out, your natural wetness making it more and more easy for the hooded stranger. He's widening and closing his fingers inside you as they move - in and out, faster and harder. The free hand has moved down to your thigh, and you feel the sting from a sudden smack there. You want to shriek a protest but his words are still in your head, warning against such petulance. So you remain obediently silent as another quick smack stings your flesh. Your breath quickens as the rhythm of the fingers increases inside you. You again feel lips and teeth on your clit as they drag across it for a moment, and then another stinging slap across your thigh, much harder this time.
   The fingers move within you faster and faster, their tempo increasing with each spank to your thigh as you feel the tongue sliding between your juicy pussy lips. You feel yourself being drawn closer and closer to a climax you know you shouldn't be having - let alone wanting. Through clouds of conflicting emotions you hear the stranger growl as he feels your pussy quiver and tighten around his fingers and tongue. The hand that's been administering the unjust spanking is moving again. You feel it slide across your hip and inner thigh. Your back begins to arch with the oncoming tremors your body feels from the growing flood of the orgasm rising from deep within you.
   A finger prods and nudges between your clenched buttocks and begins teasing your poor tight anus. You could die with shame. You've never been touched there before, or ever considered being touched there before, but in response your traitorous pussy tightens around the thrusting and invading fingers. And then you stiffen in your chains, and you do gasp as a finger penetrates your virgin rear entrance, sinking so deep with its first thrust that the hand is squeezed between your cheeks.
   There is a brief pause, as if allowing you to become accustomed to being so completely violated, and then the fingers begin moving again, in unison, alternating their thrusts. They find their spots deep inside you. They thrust in and out, their tempo matched with practiced ease. You're going to orgasm. You don't want to, don't want to give these loathsome creeps such a triumph, but you know you're going to. You're so confused now you don't know if it's only the first stranger touching you, or more of them, but however many it is they don't stop abusing you until you slump, exhausted, on the cold marble altar.
   You feel the blindfold being removed. You feel hands brusquely raising your head from the slab, as you hear a male voice sternly ask if you would like to see who has done this to you. Wearily you open your eyes, and let them adjust again to the murky gloom as you squint. Strong hands are still supporting your head, and you see one of your captors is fully disrobed now - and to your utter shock and bewilderment you see it's a woman!
   'Oh, my God...' you start to gasp, but as you do you feel the bite of another slap across your reddening thigh. You look down as a shiny flash catches your eye, piercing the gloom as it sweeps down, and you see it is not flesh that strikes you but a cold, hard metal gauntlet a cloaked figure beside you wears, and you grimace as the long, pointed, spiked fingers clamp onto your stinging thigh and squeeze it tightly. You groan 'no' with surprise and dread as the blindfold is tied back into place, condemning you to bleak darkness once again, robbing your senses of their place in this nightmare you are caught up in.
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tha crypt of unthinkable dreams
Monday, 25 May 2015  | 

I did like it thank you.


Rating:  
Ok Book
Sunday, 3 February 2013  | 

It was ok for the cost.


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