Chapter 19

‘Right then, all set?’ Hugh beamed what he fondly imagined to be his friendly, encouraging smile in Susie’s direction. Bitter experience had taught her it was in reality his smarmiest and most triumphant grin, and that Hugh not only knew exactly what the next few hours held in store, but was looking forward to them immensely. Which in turn meant that he had something planned for Susie, something that would almost certainly involve her submitting to the unwanted attentions of strangers. Hugh’s enjoyment came from the power of making Susie do whatever it was, and from knowing that she wasn’t particularly relishing the prospect. Thus the warm wetness already leaking into her knickers was her private victory over Hugh’s unpleasantness. The secret knowledge that being cajoled into questionable activities with people she didn’t know or like filled her with liquid delight enabled her to face Hugh without slapping him around the face and wiping that sanctimonious smile into the middle of next week.

Hugh was wearing his wristwatch camera, set to a wider aperture that, he explained, would allow in more light and hopefully let them distinguish faces this time, but Susie wasn’t taking any chances. Although privately quivering with sexual anticipation, she still didn’t plan on having to go through it all again because of some technical ‘hitch’ that Hugh had engineered just so he could watch her being fucked by men in fancy dress every Saturday night for the next month.

So, as he flicked the switch that primed the recorder hidden on the back seat of the car, to which his wristwatch would send the images that should incriminate the night’s participants, Susie merely settled her handbag more carefully over her shoulder, her own tiny camera secreted inside, which she could hopefully switch on later at the right moment.

She got out of the car, waiting for Hugh so they could climb the stone steps up to the big house together. Once again Susie had followed his very precise instructions about how she should prepare for the evening; he said they were relayed from the one who got a kick out of playing the role of master, but Susie was more inclined to believe that Hugh just enjoyed telling her what to do and wear and having her obey.

So, as ordered, she was freshly bathed and carefully shaved, leaving just a neat blonde triangle, the curved fullness of her pink lips smooth and soft, filling the sheer white silk with a delicate bulge of visible promise.

As they walked up the steps Susie’s mind was already roaming across an uncharted plain of potential sexual abandonment, and she was startled when the large front door opened even before they reached it. ‘Good evening,’ said the enigmatic man called the master, smiling politely. ‘I’m glad you’re so punctual, because we have a slight change of plan. It’s nothing serious, just a different venue for this evening. I’m afraid this house isn’t really the right place for the, um, the ritual we’ve planned, so we’ll be going elsewhere. No, no,’ he went on as Hugh reached for his car keys, ‘don’t worry about that. Leave it here and pick it up later. There’s plenty of room for us in my car, and it’ll be so much more convenient. Come with me, both of you.’

Hugh’s face was blank. Susie tried to read something into it but saw nothing, and in the end concluded that he too was surprised by the change of venue. If he’d been expecting it then he would have enjoyed her discomfort far too much to keep the smirk off his face.

As a chauffeur opened the door of a big black Mercedes and they climbed in, Susie began to feel more than a little worried, because this unexpected development would scotch the plans for police back up. It would also render Hugh’s camera useless.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked as the car swung out of the drive and turned eastwards.

‘Not far,’ the man said. ‘Just a few minutes’ drive.’

Silently Susie thanked her foresight in bringing the handbag camera with her. Now she just had to hope there would be an opportunity to switch it on and put it somewhere it could see enough of what was happening to get the story finished. But whatever it saw, she knew she would be at the centre of it.

They drove in silence. Hugh had settled now, seemingly unperturbed by the change of plans, and once again Susie was tempted to speculate that it was good acting on his part, that he actually did know something she didn’t. Fear of the unknown mingled with her excited anticipation, provoking the inevitable result between her legs, and the silky material of her damp knickers hugged her smooth, freshly-shaven pussy, and slid slightly against the soft leather of the rear seat.

After only a short journey the car slowed and the three passengers turned their attention to the outside; on one side of the road the corn stood tall, on the other side a brick wall parted at a gateway now missing its gates. Clearly the entrance to an imposing house, it guided them onto a wide sweeping drive, but Susie could see at once that it was all wrong. Not just because of the missing gates, but also because of the wild undergrowth that encroached over the edges of the deeply rutted gravel drive like Triffids waiting to attack.

There was a morbid air of decay, the distant house derelict and forlorn in the darkening countryside. It was an eerie feeling and Susie shivered as cold fear gripped the pit of her stomach, and as they emerged from under a copse of trees the house loomed over them, even more creepy than its ghostly silhouette had been from a distance.

Susie gasped, and even Hugh looked a little disconcerted as the car crunched to a halt in front of what had once been a magnificent front entrance. It still was, in masonry terms at least, but without the woodwork of even the frame, never mind the double doors, it was a stark hole that led into a dark, foreboding interior. Derelict was indeed the word; there was not a piece of surviving woodwork anywhere. No doors, no window frames, no roof. Just a huge, empty shell of ornately laid stone, as if it had been at some time in its history gutted by fire, leaving only the triangular gables and the slab front, with its gothic window arches silhouetted against the sky.

‘Right then,’ the man said briskly, and in the shadows of the back seat Susie had the presence of mind to reach into her bag and set the camera running, just before the rear door was opened by the chauffeur.

Susie and Hugh followed the man, his footsteps crunching on loose gravel as he skirted the steps up to the yawning black entrance, and instead chose a narrow flight going down, leading into the ruin from below ground level. Conscious of the shortness of her skirt and the damp warmth in her knickers, Susie felt vulnerable, easily violated, and the sensation only added to her plight as her body flowered. The steps were dank and slimy with dark green moss, and led into what had been the basement of the huge mansion. Now it was a flat, grassy plain, surrounded on all four sides by the towering walls of the ruined house, their ghostly emptiness heightened by the sharp beams of moonlight that picked their way through every window and the open roof.

But what alarmed Susie more and made her gasp with apprehension were the silent ranks of black-robed figures, rows and rows of them forming a sinister square. There must have been more than a hundred people there, and for a moment Susie feared she’d have to fuck them all, until she noticed that some of the black robes were shorter than others, long shirts in fact, and the legs of those figures, visible in the pale light of the moon, were definitely female. The Sisters of Light, she guessed, and she estimated they made up at least a third of the assembly, maybe more. Certainly there were more than enough of them to make the evening less daunting.

In the centre of the grass area was a large black square of black cloth, clearly marked with the circular and angular pattern she recognised from the other evening, and which the Internet had told her was the pentagram revered by Satanists and witches everywhere. At the far end stood the black covered altar, adorned with black candles at either end, flanking an inverted crucifix, and scattered in apparently random disarray were the various accoutrements of magic ritual, with which she was now more than familiar. Her research had also informed her that the picture hanging on the crumbling wall above the altar, which had been present at the other house, was the Baphomet of Eliphas Levi, the eighteenth-century representation of the devil himself, as half man, half goat, with cloven hooves, pointed tail and horned, goat-like head.

As Susie, and Hugh she noticed, stared around the bizarre scene, their silver-haired companion removed his robes from a leather briefcase offered by his chauffeur, and slipped them over his head as the driver did likewise. Pulling up the hood, and taking up the chalice, dagger, and large leather-bound book, he became the master once more, moving purposefully to stand with his back to the altar, facing his congregation, who began to shuffle closer, herding Hugh and Susie in towards the centre, until they stood alone in the middle of the pentagram, the horseshoe of black-clad worshippers watching them intently.

Holding a sputtering black candle in one hand the chauffeur, now transformed into a robed assistant, walked around the ruin, ringing a bell in all four corners, and then to some other predetermined pattern Susie didn’t understand. All the time low music droned soothingly, and the incense burners around the perimeter of the grass area wafted spirals of pungent white smoke.

Susie felt increasingly vulnerable. The air of expectancy that had been omnipresent within the stark remains intensified as the silent multitude drew closer, almost as if they were focusing their energy in Susie’s direction, so that now the tension was a palpable presence, as if the air itself had thickened and was pressing against her. Still unsure of what lay ahead, apart from the certainty that it involved sex, Susie shivered apprehensively, and she could feel the heat from her pussy encased snugly in her knickers.

The bell ringing ceased, and there was a long silence during which no one moved or made a sound. Hugh refused to look at her, and she wondered why he was beside her.

Eventually the master took up the large book, opened it at a marked page and began to read in hushed tones, the words indistinguishable from each other, just like the vicar in church on a Sunday when Susie was a young girl. Except he read from the holy bible, whereas the leather-bound tome laying open across the master’s hands was named Grimoire, or something like that, from what she could just make out.

Susie heard footfalls on the grass and felt hands on her wrists; female hands that held her while others took her bag... no, not her bag! The hands holding her wrists stopped her from doing anything but watch in despair as the bag with its precious contents was carried away. So disturbed was she by the loss of her secret camera, she hardly noticed as fingers lowered the zip at the back of her dress and brushed the garment from her shoulders. One hand released her wrist to remove it completely and the dress fell at her feet, leaving her standing in the moonlight, naked but for her white knickers. For a moment she neither noticed nor cared; her bag had been placed in a niche about six feet off the ground. Some beam or joist or something had been slotted there when the house was complete, but now it made a safe resting place for her bag - which was, by an incredible piece of luck, facing the right way, its tiny hidden eye watching all that took place.

Greatly relieved, Susie turned her attention back to her immediate surroundings. A breeze wafted across her nipples, making them rise for all to see. Then knowing hands were at her waist, gently pulling her panties down and off.

The women were young, and dressed only in short black shifts she’d earlier thought were cloaks, and now she could see they were made of a diaphanous satin, so that their shadowy breasts could be seen swaying provocatively in the moonlight.

They held her naked, and then the unexpected warmth of sweet-smelling oil being poured on her shoulders followed a soft liquid sound behind her. The viscous stream oozed down onto her breasts and into her deep cleavage, and then further, leaving a trail over her flat tummy and trickling into the neat triangle of shaped blonde curls.

Almost before she had the chance to enjoy the sensations the hands were massaging her shoulders, rubbing the sweet-scented oil into her skin. It seemed to tingle softly as it soaked into her, burning gently with just a little more heat than its natural warmth would have created, and somehow it seemed to make her flesh come alive. Now she could feel the caress of the cool night air on her shoulders and breasts, cooling the tips of her nipples, contrasting with the unexpected warmth of the fragrant ointment. And as the sure hands circled her shoulders and slithered lower, cupping her breasts, lifting and smoothing, she could feel the texture of the girls’ skin, and feel the ridges and whorls in the fingertips that brushed her so softly. Her nipples strained, so hard she thought they would burst, but the gentle hands came only close enough to tantalise, never allowing the relief she sought by touching her where she needed to be touch.

‘Ah...’ A soft moan escaped Susie’s lips and her shoulders moved slightly as she tried to manoeuvre herself into the path of the slowly pleasing hands, but to no avail. Then there was more oil, dribbling its incandescent path down her thighs, over her bottom, trickling across the smooth globes and into the narrow valley that separated them, running faster down the back of her legs as the hands sank lower, across her tummy on either side, kneading the malleable flesh of her buttocks. The hands moved in concert but belonged to different girls, the timing slightly different as they caressed and massaged, separating her buttocks, squeezing and dividing, tugging gently at the soft pinkness that nestled below.

Her feet moved apart a little, a slight but definite invitation, but the hands passed on, smoothing the backs of her thighs, leaving only the memory of their closeness to that part of her which now burned with a searing heat of its own. Two hands on each of her legs, the Sisters of Light massaged steadily downwards to her ankles and then began to climb again, warm circles of sensation that set her calves on fire first, then her thighs, higher and higher, fingers brushing up between her legs. Their steady rise was a command that she could not ignore, and she moved her feet again, opening her thighs, waiting for the touch between them, straining forward, hardly breathing as she tensed for the first finger that would slither between her waiting lips and sink so easily into the hot darkness there.

But the touch never came. Instead the hands continued to massage her thighs, circle her buttocks and run smooth traces across her tummy, all but touching the light blonde curls that appeared almost white in the moonlight, but never quite reaching her centre. The girls paused, watching the master, who suddenly interrupted the dreamlike quality of the night.

‘Hail Satan,’ he said, quietly but firmly, and from all around Susie countless voices echoed his call.

Solemnly, the master took the silver chalice from his robed assistant and raised it to his lips, taking a long draught, which he swallowed reverently. Then he passed the heavy goblet to Hugh, who lowered his head in salute before drinking an equal amount of the contents, before handing it back. Eyes shining expectantly he watched with a self-satisfied smile as the master stood in front of Susie, whose naked body was glowing with the scented oil that still tingled on her flesh. The chalice contained a dark, sweet-smelling liquid, like mulled wine, thought Susie, as the master placed the rim against her lips and tilted it, pouring the contents into her mouth so she had little choice but to swallow, although not fast enough and the overflow spilled from the corners of her mouth, running dark red down her chin and dripping on her breasts.

The drink was spicy and not at all unpleasant, but it was warm, and seemed to burn with the same kind of glow as the massage oil. So now there was an inner warmth too, spreading through her veins, radiating from her centre to her outspread extremities. Already alight with arousal thanks to the gentle hands that still attended her, Susie felt herself also beginning to burn with a desire that urgently demanded immediate fulfilment.

Her head felt light, and as the mist swirled in the moonlight it seemed to her that everyone was floating, drifting in the night, and indeed she did feel lighter than air, as if she could fly. If the hands holding her wrists and ankles slackened their grip she would simply glide away into the night, and be looking down at the scene from somewhere high in the clouds.

The master was reciting another litany of devil worship, but though she could hear the individual words quite clearly she couldn’t understand what they meant, or what he was saying, until he paused and looked deep into her eyes with an undisguised greed, the intensity of which she had rarely seen before. And then when he spoke the words rang clearly in the night.

‘Who gives this woman?’

‘I do,’ said Hugh, and at once two of the Sisters of Light took him by the arms and, one on either side, led him forward to the altar, and Susie immediately understood that once again Hugh had known more about what the evening entailed than he’d admitted to her. But the warmth of the oil on her flesh and the relaxing heat of the drink seemed to suspend both reality and normality, and it was impossible to be angry. There was just a pleasant relaxed sensation that filled her entire being.

‘Let it be so.’ The master looked only briefly at Hugh as two robed figures loomed out of the mist and took him by the arms, but although he made no resistance as they held him, she thought she saw fear in his eyes, real fear, and the realisation was like a wave of cold water as she understood that something was wrong, but the understanding subsided as quickly as it had come and before she could even think about reacting to it. But as more shapes emerged from the mists and she saw they were more Sisters of Light, he appeared to relax again, looking assured once more.

Still reading from his book in a subdued monotone that made the stream of words still more difficult to interpret, the master turned to the altar, holding the book out so his assistant could place the gleaming dagger on its open pages. Turning back he faced Hugh, whose eyes flickered wildly once again; he’d seen the dagger before, when he’d given blood to become a member of the sect and he clearly wasn’t happy to see it again. And he looked even less happy as another cloaked figure lifted it from its resting place on the pages and turned to face him.

Susie saw his face change, the expression quite clearly one of fear as the dark figure leaned towards him, hand outstretched, silver blade glinting in the night air. After a brief pause, during which Hugh held his breath and Susie was conscious of the steady thumping of her pulse, it descended slowly, the tip slipping under the collar of Hugh’s shirt. Then with one aggressive swipe it sliced down, shredding it to the waist.

Hugh gasped, a mixture of shock and relief, and then gasped again as the knife was inserted into the waistband of his trousers. There was another sound of razor-sharp steel slicing through material and the figure stooped in front of Hugh, cutting down one leg, then the other, silver blade glinting in the moonlight as the rest of his clothes were quickly and efficiently cut away, leaving him pale and shivering in the drifting light of the moon, the look on his face one which Susie could only perceive as terror. Hugh was genuinely frightened, and Susie couldn’t help enjoying the moment even though it meant events had definitely passed out of his control, if they were ever in it, which could be ominous for both of them.

But with a mixture of relief and regret she saw his fear was once again only momentary, and the avaricious expression she knew so well was soon back in his eyes, the reason only too clear as two Sisters of Light advanced to stand beside him, reaching out with the small bowls, and as the warm oil dribbled across his shoulders he began to relax. As the skilled hands smoothed the aromatic oil into his arms, his chest, his buttocks and his thighs, Hugh began to rise proudly to the occasion. The chanting masses gathered in a semicircle behind the tableau at the altar appeared not to notice, continuing their mantra in unison. But the Sisters of Light whose ministrations had produced the reaction saw at once. Unashamed and unhurried their fingers, slippery with perfumed oil, wrapped around his shaft as it reared up, and began to rub it slowly. Behind him other hands massaged the oil into glistening buttocks, deep between the firm cheeks until one probing finger sank inside him, and with a jerk his erection was complete.

In the same instant several dark figures detached themselves from the throng and moved close, some bending to the foot of the altar, grabbing coils of rope which lay there and others grabbing Hugh by the arms and lifting and laying him on the altar, tying the rope around his legs and arms, binding him firmly in place with his erect penis spearing up into the night.

Susie understood at once; the other ends of the ropes had already been tied around the sturdy wooden legs of the altar in preparation for this moment, so that lashing Hugh in place took only seconds. Once he was pinned down one of the sisters who had administered to him earlier stepped forward and poured more of the pungent oil onto his now wilting erection, letting it trickle over his testicles and down between the cheeks of his bottom. Her other hand massaged the shaft back into life, thickening and straightening again as the fingers soothed his tightening sac. In one smooth movement the woman straightened her finger and sank it slowly but firmly between his cheeks again, making him whimper pathetically, although his erection stiffened further and pulsed with involuntary spasms.

Though everything was becoming increasingly surreal and blurry as the drink robbed her of coherent thought and movement, even of the ability to focus her eyes properly, Susie felt her own arousal grow as the woman massaged Hugh’s erection. It seemed that they - Susie and Hugh - were going to be the centrepiece of the night’s entertainment, and the idea of having him inside her seemed a lot more appealing now than it had done only a few hours earlier. In fact, she could feel the same old telltale warmth between her legs just looking at that glistening column of rigid flesh.

The proud tip was purple, the shaft straining hard and straight, painfully erect, as the sister moved away. For a moment Hugh was a stark white form on the black altar until, still reading from the tome, the master stepped into her place, waiting while she raised his robe waist high, revealing his white thighs and buttocks and his own erection protruding in front of him. Pouring a generous splash of warm oil from her jug the sister massaged the master’s erection, spreading the fluid and completing his growth with half a dozen steady strokes. He stood, reading constantly, as she guided him into place and with one smooth thrust he impaled Hugh to the hilt, spearing him between the buttocks and forcing himself roughly deeper and deeper. Hugh inhaled deeply and squealed, but the master continued his litany, thrusting into Hugh’s bucking body until the ritual ended with the familiar call of, ‘Hail Satan!’ and this time it was the master’s buttocks that quivered and clenched, and incredibly as his back straightened to push forward during climax, the silhouette of Hugh’s erection jerked and thick jets of semen arced across his torso, splattering powerfully and audibly onto his chest.

Strangely and intensely aroused by the utterly bizarre image of Hugh there, being fucked by another man on an altar, Susie pulled against the arms holding her as the crowd gathered closer in the darkness and matched the master’s call, hailing Satan in a regular, hypnotic chant. And even in her stupor she realised that their eyes were all turning on her, and the sisters were back, their hands spreading the warm oil into her skin, making it radiate as the fingers dipped lower and lower, caressing between her legs, the slippery smoothness of the unguent mixing with her own hot juices in a blazing cocktail of need.

She gasped as two fingers spread her, holding her open, and two more slid inside, slithering around, carrying the aromatic lubricant deeper so she was smouldering inside and out, no longer able to tell her own lust from the heat of the oil.

‘She’s ready, master,’ said one of the women beside her, fingers squirming deeper into the slippery wetness and making her gasp an audible confirmation.

She was still writhing as the master began to wave his arms as wraiths of mist crawled through the gaping windows, carrying the sharp tang of pasture and woodland as they rolled across the grass and the smell mixed with the heady incense and the oil to make Susie think it might all be a dream and she was about to wake up, safe in her bed in Norwich with her hand buried between her legs, searching the warm darkness for the source of all that moisture. Because she was very wet, again or still, she was no longer sure of anything except the growing urgency of her need to be filled. The heady scent of the incense was burning her nostrils, her skin was aflame with the heat from the oil the possessive hands smoothed knowingly across buttock and thigh, squeezing breast and nipple and slithering in a tantalising wave of wetness between her legs. The drink had gone to her head, and her eyes seemed unable to focus on anything more than a few feet away, and what she could see fell into two sharply contrasting halves of impenetrable gloom in the distance and fuzzy brightness nearby, as the glow from a thousand candles lit the misty air and fringed every shape with their light, so that her world seemed to have been painted by an artist in the impressionist style.

Now more figures were coming forward, joining the master in the mist, and the hands that held her pulled her downwards, laying her across the pentagram. Ropes were placed around her wrists and ankles and pulled roughly tight. There was a sudden coarse hammering, and Susie saw wooden spikes being driven into the ground, to which the ropes that held her wrists were tied. Then there was pressure as the bindings at her ankles were pulled tight, dragging her legs wide apart, so she was spread out on the ground, a pale white star against the black cloth.

Then the music and chanting rose to a new and higher level as the crowd gathered around in a semicircle, looking expectantly beyond the altar into the mist, thickest and most volatile around the dark hole in the ground, the staircase that opened down into the disused cellar. And it seemed as if the cellar was the source of the mist, that it emanated from below ground instead of the surrounding cornfields, billowing upwards in thick swirls that seemed to be lit from within by a deep, reddish glow.

As the light grew brighter the music swelled and the chanting grew louder still. “Hail Satan!” they repeated, over and over again, and as Susie looked around at them, their faces rapt and intent, she almost believed that they almost believed. And then the chant became a crescendo as they flung themselves down as one, kneeling on the ground, heads bowed, still chanting into the night, and Susie turned her head to see what had prompted their fervent actions.

At first she could see nothing but light and shadow, but then... then there was something, a shadow, a figure in the night. Through the swirling mist it moved, swaying as it walked, as if it was having difficulty standing upright, lurching slightly from side to side. At first she thought it must just be the picture of the man-goat being carried towards her, but even allowing for her woozy condition and the swirling mists and smoke, she quickly realised it was something more than that, far more sinister than that, growing bigger and rising higher until it was taller and broader than the master, and then she saw its eyes were glowing red and faint wisps of mist trailed around the head as it breathed from nostrils that glistened as if they were as damp as those of a sweating bull.

And then it opened its mouth to let a long, sinuous tongue loll sideways, and Susie felt her body freeze and her heart stop because it was alive, and it couldn’t walk properly because it was hard for a goat to walk upright on its hind legs, swaying unsteadily on cloven hooves, long, arrow-pointed tail swishing angrily from side to side.

But it wasn’t a goat because though it had horns and pointed furry ears, the face was a hideous mixture of animal and human, with blazing red eyes under a low forehead, an evil, pointed snout and a drooling mouth full of sharp teeth. More man than goat, it was still a beast, though as it slouched towards her through the mist she could see it had human arms and a broad, hairy chest. And beneath a narrow waist it was all masculine again. Between its legs - its animal legs - swung a pair of heavy testicles and a thick pole of dark, leathery skin.

The sheath had drawn back and a pink tip trailed dribbles of viscous fluid, long strands that dangled towards the ground and meandering rivulets that trickled down the shaft, making it glisten in the glow of the candles. It was standing over Susie, nostrils dilating as it sniffed her, and when it detected the musk of her arousal small dribbles of semen splashed across her stomach, hot and thick and sticky.

Still feeling as though she was floating, surrounded by the hypnotic music and the encircling mist and smoke, warmed by the incense, the oil and the strange liquid from the chalice, Susie’s perceptions were blurred but her instincts were on full alert; as she looked through narrowed eyes, trying to hold the scene in focus, she felt a familiar grabbing lurch between her legs as her body yearned to be filled.

Feeling dazed and uncertain of what was reality and what wasn’t, Susie lay still and silent as the creature raised its head, and as its mouth opened the ground shook with the power of its ferocious roar and a wave of stinking breath carried the foul smell of sewage and rotting compost into the night air that parted before it and closed in again afterwards, long, curling tendrils of white mist.

There was complete and utter silence from the assembled throng as the creature crouched awkwardly above her, arms stretching out to take the weight of its body as its back legs, unable to kneel, bent backwards, bringing the huge black stalk down between her thighs, lower and lower, closer and closer until it finally rested against her. As soon as it sensed the heated wetness of her open sex the creature snarled and lunged, sinking its shaft inside her.

A cold shaft, Susie realised with shock, cold like a piece of metal or stone, it was soft and flexible like flesh, but frozen like ice. And enormous, she realised with a shock as it moved deeper, spreading her squirming body wider and wider, stretching and pulling at the tender pinkness, deeper and deeper until she feared she could take no more.

At last it stopped and she was full, long and thick and cold, pushed into her like a skewer of ice that not even the heat of her body could warm, still less melt. Yet she could feel herself clinging to it, feel it freezing her where it penetrated, but still warm and wet so the obscene thing could slide easily in and out as the figure began to fuck her, stabbing thrusts in a frantic dance of carnal lust with no thought for rhythm or style. This was simply animal need, a pounding race to the finish with only one objective in mind. And as the thought occurred the creature lifted its head and roared another savage call of triumph and lunged even deeper into Susie. Somewhere inside she felt as though a steaming geyser had erupted, filled by a continual stream of liquid heat that oozed back around its base and leaked down between her buttocks, where it seeped outward into the black cloth on which she lay.