Friday, August 23, 2013

(Fan)fiction Friday 12: Shallya's Will Ch. 4

Darkness, A New Friend

Tags: [Futa/F] [Rape] [Drugging] [Nightmare/Flashback] [Blindfold] [Ritual] [Imprisonment]

The first thing she noticed was that breathing was harder. Something was covering her, but she was still stuck in the split-second between sleep and awareness, darkness retreating from her mind and senses. She wanted to move, to sit upright, but found her limbs sluggish, easily held in place by a hand against her shoulder. Sleepily, her eyes cracked open, swimming a little. She could see the threatening shape of white cloth very close to her eyes, held over her mouth. Above her, a hooded shape hovered. All that was visible in the faint light of the beginning morning were strong, feminine lips and an equally powerful and somehow sensual chin.

Vesper’s vision had already begun flagging, feeling as if she was spinning around inside herself. She remained entirely conscious that she was lying still on the bed, on her back, throughout the experience. Colors drained from the world slowly. The shape above her grew monstrous for a brief moment. Finally, she sank back into blackness.


The first half second, she felt no pain, merely registered that the blade had penetrated her robe, her stomach and finally stopped when the tip settled in the pillar behind her. The force of the thrust had pushed her body into a slightly angled posture, from which she looked down and saw the blade sticking out of her, saw blood flooding out along the blade. Clasping at her stomach, the initiate looked up at the black-armored warrior in wide-eyed shock.

The giant man stepped back, yanking his weapon free of the girl in one violent movement, pulling her with it until she simply fell forward. Vesper hit the ground sideways, her body prickling and convulsing, the thorny flower of agony blooming inside her. The only thing that came out of her mouth was blood, her eyes remaining wide, almost bulging with shock. Blood spilled from her mouth and from her stomach, quickly spreading from the clingy, damp cloth of her robe and onto the ground.

With her eyes misting, she more felt than heard or saw the bodies around her hit the ground. Muted screams tore through to her blurred mind, screams born not only of impending death, but of worse things happening before the final release. Vesper’s mind was awash with so many images. Thoughts of Amelia surfaced, desperate thoughts of how she would now never complete her ordainment, but above all, the all-consuming need to relieve the pain. She attempted to summon up the will to stutter out a prayer of healing, but only bubbling gasps burst from her lips.

Weakness crept over her mind and body, her previously spasming legs merely flexing instinctively, her thoughts drifting as she became more and more numb. The world was slipping from her grasp. Thoughts evaded her and left nothing but pain itself. Soon, even the scything pangs of pain grew distant, leaving only apathy. Her head fell to the right, her cheek landing against the ground roughly.

The scene played out in front of her should have horrified her. The few of her sisters that were not dead were being abused around her. She could only passively observe as the revered mother, the abbess of the temple, was dragged out of the main building and forced to her knees. Vesper could see tears on the old grey-haired woman’s face as she looked out over the courtyard filled with butchered women. The ruins of her temple, littered with the dead or dying youths she had helped raise for so many years, would be the last thing she ever saw.


Something wet and slightly rough pressed against her face hungrily, then disappeared again. She felt the fingertips of a feminine hand trail from her thigh up over her body, circling briefly around her slightly protruding hipbone. Her lips cleaved open, ropes of built-up saliva bridging the gap, quivering as she took in a deep gasp of air.

Something was covering her eyes. It felt and seemed to be dark cloth. Her head hung over the edge of what felt like a polished and smooth block of wood. It reached from her shoulders and down to the middle of her firm  bottom. She tried moving, but quickly discovered that her wrists and ankles were tied to something at the base of the block. Only when the feminine hand trailed further up, over her gently rounding side and up to the bottom of her ribcage, did she realize that she was naked.

Vesper flexed, straining as best she could against the ropes. There was little she could do. Whoever had tied this certainly knew how to handle rope and keep someone in place. Slowly, the scent and sound of the room around her infiltrated her mind. A tangy, sweaty smell with a sweet note was all-pervasive. Around her, sighs and moans of satisfaction and pain mixed with the lewd smacking of skin against skin. In the background, there was the faint sound of steel on steel, and shouting.

“N-no!” The protest had burst from her lips as the hands trailing over her form had reached her breasts, caressing gently over one, twisting the nipple before ending up on the initiate’s shoulder, holding her even more firmly in place. She was soon answered by coarse laughter, both male and female.

The hand left her shoulder. For a few brief moments, she laid there, bare and unable to see, feeling the bodies all around her in whatever room she was in. The petite girl turned and angled her head, attempting to hear the people around her better. With a shriek, her head was dragged upwards with a hand in her hair, the parted lips of the panting initiate meeting a luscious, slick set of lips.

Vesper was breathless, gasping for air through her nose as a thousand prickly needles bored into her scalp. The grip of her hair did not let up, it only grew stronger as someone stole a deep, demanding kiss from her, shoving a tongue into her mouth. When her lips were finally free again, she could feel hot breath against her skin, then her ear.

“Mmh… You’re going to be so much fun, just like your sisters.” Warm air from the feminine voice filled her ear, making her shiver slightly. The breathless initiate’s back arched slightly as she once more strained against her restraints, only to be yanked down again, her back resting against the wooden block. Vesper’s shoulders and thighs were beginning to hurt from the strain of having her limbs tied below her, but she had other things to occupy her busy mind with.

The hand gripping a fistful of her long, curlish, golden-brown locks started pulling downwards, dragging her head with it, eliciting a pained, wet gasp from the novice. As her head was forced down, her tense neck became increasingly exposed, tendons defined clearly due to her pain-clenched jaw.

Vesper’s form jolted as hot, moist lips pressed against her neck, nipping at her skin lightly as they made their way down over her form, trailing over her collarbone and down over the gentle rounding of her flattened left breast. The initiate could not hold back a gasp as her nipple slipped between those suckling lips, once more soliciting laughter from the unseen crowd around her.

As soon as those lips left her body, she started writhing and struggling against her bonds again. Her teeth gritted, her entire small form tensing in an attempt at overworking the ropes holding her firmly in place. A hand from landed on her thigh with a sharp smack, making her gasp. A warm, dull ache spread where the hand had hit.

She could feel the air move against her skin. Someone walked around her, walked from her side to where her knees pointed. The bound initiate pressed her knees against each other even more resolutely, instinctively trying to cover what she could of herself. The hand on her thigh dragged over her soft skin, fingertips circling gently around the tip of her knee. A second hand landed just above her other knee, sliding to the inside of her leg.

Vesper barely felt the mounting pressure outwards at first, but as both hands increased the strength of their push, her thighs tensed, tendons in the back of her knees stretching the skin. Her pearly-white teeth began to show as she gritted them, her breathing coming powerfully through her nose. With all her might, she forced her legs against the pull outwards, her back pressing down against the wooden block, her shoulders straining upwards against the bindings.

After another ten heartbeats of struggle, a hand was removed from her knees, and the one left relaxed its pressure. The initiate relaxed ever so slightly. The next moment, a fist slammed knuckles-first into her taut stomach, driving a gasp of air from her lips and forcing her to reflexively curl up as much as she could in her restraints. Immediately, both hands were back on her knees, pulling her legs apart. Hips were jammed in between her thighs, leaving her open and unable to stop what was to come. Coughing, with beading sweat and droplets of spit running from her mouth, up into her nose up over her face to be soaked up by the blindfold, she continued to struggle in vain, thrashing her head from side to side.

Around her, the room had grown more and more silent as the struggle played out. Now, as she had been split open, a vague, monotone mumble rose to a chant. For a moment, her insides froze in terror. Images of what she had seen in the forest, on the night her temple was burned, tore through her mind. But there was a different note to this chant, she realized. It felt like a horrible call, as if it was egging someone on.

Over several minutes, the chant slowly rose in intensity until it filled the air, surrounding the struggling, blindfolded girl on all sides. Vesper continued to vainly try and force the strong hips between her thighs out, but there was little to do but lie there and wait.

Finally, as the chant seemed to be nearing an almost feverish crescendo, the girl’s legs were forced further apart, painfully far due to the nooses around her ankles holding her legs down, limiting her flexibility considerably. Her chest rose and fell swiftly, her twisting, revolting body giving a jolt as hands lifted something and let it go. A heavy, warm length landed against her pelvis and firm lower belly. The strong hands quickly moved to her sides, fingers spreading slightly as they dug into her skin.

The initiate’s struggles gradually died down until the only activity left was the heaving of her chest and occasional turns of her head when she felt someone or something come close. The chanting around her wavered back and forth in intensity, and the smell of the room seemed to grow increasingly oppressive. The shaft against her tummy pulsed lazily, soon reaching up far enough to almost reach her bellybutton. She struggled upwards, her blindfolded eyes staring blindly down in the direction her captor had to be in.

The fingers grasping her sides grew more painful, their grip tightening. The form between her thighs withdrew slowly, as if to ensure that the bound novice felt the entire length slide from root to tip off of her center. Vesper’s toes extended, then curled and extended again. What muscles the girl had bulged in a last-ditch attempt at freedom.

She felt the hard, wide cockhead push up at her, parting her, stretching her more and more widely. Her thighs tensed harder than ever, her hands balling up, nails digging into her skin. The initiate let out a gasping sob, but it drowned instantly in the chanting around her.

“N-nnnh-nnn-“ her voice strained, tinges of pain flowering inside her pelvis as the wide length forced her apart. Too tired to keep her head up any longer, she let it fall over the edge of the wooden block. It took only moment before tears pooled against the inside of the blindfold, soaking it only to reform and flow down into her hair. She writhed, her protruding hipbones pressing against her skin as her back arched. The shaft continued to firmly press into her tight pussy, past the point of fullness. In the back of her buckling mind, she wondered how much more of it there could be.

It took what felt like an eternity until the initiate for the first time in her life experienced the unfamiliar feeling of churning balls pressed up against her. By that time, blood was dripping from her clenching hands, so hard had she dug her nails in. Her chest heaved heavily, and her form felt slick from the thin sheen of sweat that was forming on her. Her jaws hurt from having been closed tightly for so long. But it was nothing compared to the wide, horribly warm and veiny shaft hilted in her stretched cunt.

The nameless body between her thighs stayed hilted in her forever, long enough that, in the end, Vesper simply could not hold herself taut anymore, falling down against the wooden block in a gasping, sweaty mess. The chanting around her came to an abrupt and immediate hold, replaced with rough, promiscuous cheering. Warmth rushed in around her. She felt the hands and tongues of many, many people press against her, tug and caress her hair, face, feet, breasts and body.

The balls felt sticky with their combined sweat as they peeled off her skin. What could have been a moment of relief for the initiate barely even registered. She was overflowing with fright and uncertainty as every inch of her skin was licked, caressed and nibbled on. It was only when the wide cock began plowing steadily into her that she fully registered it. The rape was coming to fruition. In the middle of an insane, licking, grasping throng of heretics, she lost her innocence to an unknown cultist.

Vesper’s form rocked back and forth, the pounding she received making her gasp. Gradually, the mass of hands and tongues dwindled, the last of them leaving with a longing lick of the girl’s nipple. Then, it seemed, the unwilling performance was back to merely being eyecandy. The lewd noises of the room started again around her, and she simply rocked back and forth, back and forth.

Occasionally she would struggle against her restraints vainly, but otherwise, all that existed was the cacophony around her, the enveloping smell of sweat, sex and blood, and the wide cock pistoning in and out of her stretching, grabbing pussy. Vesper’s back arched lightly as her rapist entered a more feverish state, thrusting at a harder and harder pace. She felt the hands on her sides clench painfully, and then the thrusting slowed some, as the large dick pulsed out thick, sticky cum, splattering into her abused cunt.

It was an unwelcome, foreign feeling of warmth. She felt dirty, even more dirty that she was, covered in spittle and sweat. The person holding her seemed wracked with pleasure, hilting one last time in the initiate and then pulling backwards. The last weak ropes of sperm launched at her, one shooting up over her pelvis, splattering stickily around her bellybutton, the others landing against her slightly gaping pussy. The warm, gooey liquid made her shiver with goosebumps as it rolled down over her abused form. She felt it drooping, felt the weight of the gobs of spunk redistribute as the ropes became long, obscene strands hanging down from her.

Vesper had halfway expected the next cultist to come up and repeat the rape, remaining tense for quite a long time, but there was no further contact to her skin. She was simply left in the center of the room, her body stretched in a wide, inverted U around the sticky wooden block. It was hard to tell how long she laid there, bare and open for all to see, but it was long enough that the cum dried on her skin.

Eventually, even her thoughts gave way to nothingness. She simply hung from the block, disgust slowly creeping into every fiber of her being. Disgust, and regret.


She was awoken by hands untying her wrists and ankles. She was dragged off the wooden block, her feet stumbling as they fell against the stone floor of the room. She could hear and feel sleeping forms close around her, but the two figures hooked arms under her shoulders, and pulled the stumbling initiate along the floor, outside of the reach of any one of the bodies she could feel around her.

The atmosphere changed drastically, and the low, mumbling noise of the room she had been in disappeared behind her. The air became colder and more damp, and increasingly oppressive. This had to be below ground. The two people dragging her by her shoulders stopped, and she heard a metallic, grating sound against stone. The initiate regained her footing shakily, only to be pulled off of her feet once more when she was pulled through the opening. After a few more seconds, she began to hear breathing, low mewling, crying and faint moans around her.

Vesper felt her bearers stopping and turning, and once more she heard the grating sound of metal against stone. She was carried forward, and then thrown. She landed heavily against the ground, only barely managing to take most of the fall with her hands. The door was slammed shut behind her, and footsteps paced away, quickly lost amongst the other faint sounds of the dungeon.

With a shaking, cold hand she reached up, pushing the black blindfold up to her forehead. Almost no light hit her wide eyes, but enough that she could just barely see the outline of a female body in the dark, up against the wall of the cell she was in. The initiate pushed against the floor, her skin sliding uncomfortably over the cold stone as she dragged herself up against the opposite wall, her eyes fixated on the other woman in the cell. Slowly, she got up into a sitting position, pulled her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around herself. The cold of the stone seeped into her, made her shiver, but she was too scared and unhinged to notice the pile of rags in the corner next to the other figure.

“I ain’t going to hurt you. They got their hands on me too.” The voice had a foreign accent. Vesper was too tired to begin considering where the woman might be from, but she did relax a little, examining her once again. The other woman was a far more impressive sight than Vesper imagined herself to be. The woman looked like she was around Vesper’s age, she had dark, dull red hair that looked almost black in the faint light of the dungeon, a proud face and a well-toned fighter’s body. Her breasts were considerably larger than Vesper’s two handfuls-and-a-half, too. She was covered in superficial cuts and bruises, but appeared to be taking it quite well.

“Name’s Julia. You okay?”

The huddled initiate simply nodded in return, her empty eyes darting around until they came to rest on the small pile of rags and blankets next to Julia. She swallowed, grimacing a little. Her throat was dry. “Julia… I-I mean, I’m Vesper.” She glanced at the redhead’s eyes before looking at the pile of cloth again.

Julia’s green eyes scanned the scared woman in front of her. “Really, with her demeanor, girl’s more appropriate than woman,” she thought, but immediately regretted her judgement. No one came through the first nights in here without noticeable scars, emotional or physical. The bruised woman attempted a reassuring smile, but it turned into a grimace rather quickly. Smiling made her abused face ache. Instead, she gathered up the pile of blankets and rags in one arm, stemming her other hand against the wall to push herself up on slightly shaky feet.

“Listen, Vesper. I’m, ah… Sorry. Everyone here deals differently with, you know. It all.” Julia realized that her sudden apologetic behavior probably came off rather strange. It was usually everyone for themselves in here, but the quiet, shaken strength of the brown-haired girl thrown into her cell had somehow pierced the tiniest of holes through her shell. She felt dirty for having fallen into judging this Vesper as quickly as she had. The fighter took a step closer to the girl. Their eyes met and locked.

Vesper swallowed, looking down and away from Julia. It was obvious that she was trying to hide tears, but even the faint light in the cell illuminated the wet, wavy lines down her cheeks. With a quiet sigh, Julia took the last three steps to the other wall, sinking down along it, her behind hitting the floor with an audible smack. She grimaced. Her strength had been sapped entirely by a long night of fighting in the orgy hall. “The Hall of True Beauty” she had heard the cultists call it.

“Fucking freaks,” mumbled the redhead.

Vesper barely registered the redhead’s voice, so quiet was the whisper. The woman sitting next to her radiated warmth and a measure of safety, but then, so had the abbess. She stayed still, frozen in place as Julia began wrapping one of the blankets around her. The woman removed her arms once the blanket was in place, wrapping them around her own knees. Vesper swallowed, resting her head against the blanket hanging between her knees. She began rocking back and forth.

There was no concept of time in the dark place. Not a single sign of the time, not a single window to let in fresh air. Vesper had no idea how long she sat curled up, rocking back and forth. Finally, she heard the woman beside her sigh. Not an exasperated sigh, but one of frustration with herself. The initiate stayed very still as she felt a toned, strong arm carefully drape around her shoulders. She felt herself pulled lightly against Julia, and did not resist.

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