Author's note: Please start with part 1. This tale of Lovecraftian cosmic horror has been dancing in my mind for quite a while, and I hope you enjoy it. Note that some parts of the story will contain dark elements and non-consent. I'm eager for feedback, so please leave a comment. ***** Orne Library loomed over the intersection of College and Coolidge stre...
I arrive at the room an hour before you are supposed to arrive to prepare everything. I take a shower, shaving my pussy bare, then wander naked around the room, placing and lighting candles. I quickly dry my long red hair, admiring how it shines as it spills down my back. I think of how you like to pull it, and shiver in anticipation. I get dressed now, putt...
(continuation) I've managed to get off the bed without waking her... I prepare the coffee, some toast, some butter – just in case Donna will ask again for some bread & butter, some bacon and some salami... I take the tray and enter the room – Donna is sitting on the arm chair, combing her hair. "Hey! You're awake! Good morning!" I say with a cheerful voi...
"Celaeno Alcyone, as I live and breathe!" Daniel Castourus says as he treads down the steps of his two story estate in New Paris. "It has been a long time since you were here in the city." He is dressed in a very nice and very expensive business suit. Celaeno can't recall a time she ever saw the man in anything else. Things haven't changed in all these year...
// Hey Everyone! :D I got a request for 3-4 pages in the comments, so hopefully when this is uploaded it will be at least 3 pages. Every chapter since chapter one has been to give you more to read. But it's going to take me 2 weeks to write a full chapter now because to write another page for Literotica equals 6-7 more pages of writing on Microsoft Word. I t...
You have me face down and spread eagle on the bed, secured by the ankles and wrists as tightly as the straps will allow. I can't see anything you are doing, I can only hear you moving around. Suddenly I feel a cold metal edge on my back, the sharp point of the blade biting into my skin just enough to leave a mark. You tease me, running the blade all over my...
"You know only A heap of broken images, where the sun beats, And the dead tree gives no shelter..." T.S. Eliot * In the dead land, they met on the road. She had been distracted—which was unlike her—by a highway sign, leaning drunkenly from the weed-choked berm, so weathered and windworn as to be indecipherable, anonymous. He had surprised her there, bou...
Carl Jenkins holds the coin toward the light. It's shiny surface marred with congealed blood from the dead woman's hand, smearing the images cast upon its surface. His mind is full of questions as he looks upon the body. With a sigh, he places the coin into the zip seal bag and continues with the autopsy. "I wish you could talk, miss Casey Phillips." "Hey,...
The minutes passed by 12:14. He looked at his watch repeatedly since he had walked there at 11:45. She was late again, she was always late. Every time he would pick her up he would have to wait, and just as his patience left him and he would start to leave she would appear. 12:17. He had instructed her to take a midnight walk on the darkest path through rota...
(There are three points of view in this story. The characters are: The Woman, The Hunter and The Camper.) THE WOMAN She struggled to catch her breath, wanting nothing more than to stop, stop just for a moment. Her legs ached, her lungs burned. She felt that she must have been running for hours and hours. Her children couldn't go much further. Maybe they co...