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Authors: Jeff Gelb

BOOK: Dark Passions
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So there it was. Thirteen girls in twenty-four hours. I would have to fuck each and every one of them. If I failed, I would be eaten alive by the Furies, fully aware and conscious as they sucked the marrow from my very bones. Thirteen girls in twenty-four hours ...
If I was a teenager, I could've done these thirteen in an hour. At forty-two and after those four scotches I'd had only hours earlier, I wasn't so sure. But what choice did I have? According to the scrolls, I was safe from the Furies until I tried to unlock the first lock, but how could I walk away from the treasures that the Hazaa offered, especially now that the police would be looking for me for Hormsley's murder? But if I did it ... If I fucked all thirteen of them, I'd be like a god. With the services of the Furies, I'd have no need to worry about the police or any of man's laws.
I looked from the redhead to the others. All of them writhing on the ground, either thrusting their fingers into their own pussies or into the pussy of a girl next to them. This was like some sort of pornographer's wildest fantasy. Thirteen absolutely gorgeous girls, all moaning in ecstasy as they pleasured themselves, all waiting for me to enter them. I didn't know if I could fuck each of them in the twenty-four hours I'd be given, but I didn't care. As I stood watching them, as I felt the hotness of my blood pounding through my head, I didn't care. It didn't matter. All I wanted was to fuck them.
My hands shook as I took off my overcoat, then my boots and my clothes. As the girls saw my erect cock, they started moaning even louder than before, which made my cock even harder. I looked down at it. It hadn't been this hard in years, if ever. It was far more than any arrow: it was a fucking battering ram.
I looked at all of the girls once more and felt dizzy, felt like my heart was going to explode out of my chest. The pounding in my head was like island drums. The redhead was still on her knees. I joined her, taking hold of her small hips, and as she removed her fingers from that perfect tight pink opening, I slid myself into her.
Things changed instantly then. Instead of the warm, tight pussy I was expecting, it was more like I was fucking a swamp. Something primevally foul. And it unleashed the most rotten stench imaginable. Like decomposing corpses and sickness and vomit. And her skin that just moments before had been so smooth and firm to the touch was now more like some squishy, gelatinous substance. She changed too, no longer a beautiful girl but becoming a hideous creature, her flesh bloated and an awful gray, her form misshapen and bulbous. She still had the same red hair and green eyes from before, but that was all that remained of what she had been. Her hips were now wide and grotesque, and as I held them my hands sunk into her flesh as if it were mud. Then I looked down and what had been so perfect before was now more like a cow's udder. I stared in horror as it moved as if a living thing, the lips of that udderlike genitalia sucking on my cock, making the most godawful unearthly slurping noises.
I wanted to scream. I looked around and saw they all had changed, all of them becoming these hideous mockeries of the female form. What had once been small but perfect breasts were now large drooping, oozing sacks of flesh, and those beautiful pink nipples had transformed into massive purplish wartlike things. But it was their bodies that were the biggest horror, no longer slender and lithe but bloated as if they were waterlogged corpses and now the shapes and colors of nightmares. They were still all pleasuring themselves, shoving their clawlike fists up their holes, but they were no longer moaning in ecstasy. Now it was more of a caterwaul of screeches and cackles and other ungodly sounds.
These thirteen creatures were the Furies. The same that were carved on the outer gate. The same that were illustrated within the Scrolls of Hazaa. While there was no mention in the scrolls as to how many Furies there were, there was no doubt that these were them. And I had to fuck each and every one.
I wanted to scream. I tried to pull out, but those slurping lips held tight to my cock, and then I remembered the scrolls. If I failed to open any lock that I started on I would be instantly feasted on by the Furies. My resolve hardened. I'd be damned if I'd let these foul creatures slobber on my flesh and lap up my blood.
Somehow I kept going, pounding into that swamplike hole, all the while her gelatinous haunches pushing into me and seeming to melt around my body like slime. I tried to think of the way she had been before the transformation, but I couldn't hold on to that image. All I could think of was the hideous creature she now was. I forced my thoughts to the last girl I'd been with, a Chinese girl I had paid for in Iraq, and with a soul-deadening horror I ejaculated into the creature before me.
Those lips still held firm to my cock, and I had to pry them open as if prying open a clam. Exhausted and sick to my very core, I fell to the ground. Then the others came crawling toward me, their clawlike hands grabbing for my limp cock, their bluish purple tongues—as rough as sandpaper—running over my body, darting into my ears, pushing into my ass. I tried to ignore it; I tried to ignore them. Otherwise I knew I'd go insane.
One down, twelve to go.
I lay there with my eyes closed and tried to conjure up other girls I'd been with, all the while trying to ignore the feel of their claws and their tongues on my body. Somehow I was able to bring Emily to mind. She was this dark brunette I had slept with for nine months in Florence, Italy. I tried to picture myself taking off her panties and then studying that wonderful black bush of hers, all the while playing lightly inside her with my finger. After that I reversed positions so I could lick my tongue around the lips of her pussy and then her clitoris while she sucked on me. As I thought of that, I pushed those foul claws and tongues away and stroked myself until I became hard again. Then I grabbed the nearest of those foul creatures. I couldn't get her on her knees and instead had to go at it missionary. God knows how I did it. My body sank into that gelatinous mass, and with horror I realized that her pubic area was more alive than I could've imagined. While they had only had a small amount of peach fuzz when they were girls, now it was more like steel wool, except each strand was living. They were like little thin worms that slithered and pricked at me. Somehow, although it seemed to be an eternity, I came once again and, like before, had to pry open those lips to free myself.
I checked my watch. Over two hours had elapsed. With each one it was going to get harder and harder. As it was, I knew it was going to take years to forget this nightmare I was now living. How many flesh-and-blood women would I have to be with to rid myself of this foul memory? How many years would I close my eyes at night and have to relive this horror? I knew the answers to both of these questions would be in the hundreds, but I would have all of eternity to cleanse myself. Eventually I would. Then I remembered the passages from the scrolls recounting how the Furies would feast on me if I failed. I couldn't allow that to happen. The thought of that was beyond horror.
I fucked four more of those creatures, each time first bringing to mind a woman from my past and then making myself hard enough so I could penetrate that vile, ungodly hole. Each one was more horrific than the last. Instead of fucking a swamp, it was like I was fucking a pool of congealed blood, and their bodies were even more grotesque, with lumps that moved and crawled under their skin. The last one, God, the last one—it was like fucking a vat of mucous, and all the while those hideous lumps under her skin sucked on my body as I pounded inside her.
When I finished with those four, I collapsed on the ground, and then I must've passed out. A cold chill shook me awake, and I became aware again of their claws and tongues slithering over my body. With a start I looked at my watch and saw that I only had five hours left. Five hours to fuck the remaining seven monstrosities. I almost gave up then, but as I lay there with my eyes closed, listening to their cackles and screeches, I imagined them flaying the flesh from my body and then the greedy and obscene looks that would form over their faces as they sucked my flesh down their throats. That thought forced me to keep going. Somehow, I forced myself to become hard again.
Fucking them had gone beyond horror. Their screeches as I thrust myself into them, the way those monstrous udders sucked and slurped at my cock, it was enough to drive any man insane. But I kept going. I had to. I had to survive this nightmare so I could be with a real woman again. I had to feel human flesh instead of this gelatinous obscenity. I had to feel the warmth from a female mouth and tongue again. I had to touch the delicate curve of a woman's belly and trace my fingertips down her thigh and feel the moistness between her legs. My last experience couldn't be this. It couldn't be this horrible stench or the slimy feel of their bloated, gelatinous bodies or the fetid sourness from those hideous mouths. And worst of all, the touch of those eel-like tongues along my skin. Somehow I had to get through this. Fucking these living nightmares couldn't be the last experience I had.
Somehow I kept at it. Somehow I would force myself to become hard and ignore their horrors as I pounded away inside them. I knew I was on the edge of insanity, but I kept it up until I had ejaculated into twelve of them. Twelve of these unholy locks unlocked. I looked at my watch. I only had ten minutes left. I steeled myself. I had gone through too much already to give up now.
Hell and back
was no longer an abstract concept. Over the last twenty-three–plus hours I had endured horrors that no man should ever have to imagine. One last of these horrors to endure, and then I would be free.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember what it was like to be with a flesh-and-blood woman again. As I imagined it, I stroked myself until I was hard, and then I entered the last of the thirteen Furies. Pushing myself again and again into that dank creature while listening to her insane cackling. As I did this I recognized patterns on her back and lumps and indentations along her thighs and buttocks and realized that I had already unlocked this one. Staring bleary-eyed at my watch, I saw I only had six minutes left. I had to pry myself free, all the while with that creature cackling hysterically over the joke she had pulled on me.
They were all on me then. One by one I pushed them away until I found the last of them. Then, wrestling her to her knees, I forced myself into her. Inside, though, it was cavernous, and as I pushed my cock into that hideous creature there was nothing for it to rub against, no way for me to unlock that thirteenth lock. She started cackling then at my situation. Less than two minutes were left. Out of desperation, I forced those lips open and pushed my fist deep into its hole so I could stroke myself as I rocked back and forth within that creature. With only seconds left I ejaculated a drop into that horror. Spent, exhausted, I pried myself loose and collapsed onto the ground.
The redheaded creature crept over to me and smiled with something that could only be described as contempt. I asked it whether I had unlocked all thirteen locks.
“Yes.”
“So I now have immortality?”
“Yes.”
“Agelessness?”
“Yes.”
“Virility of a god?”
“Of course.”
With that answer, I noticed my cock had started to throb, growing hard, erect. It felt like it was on fire. I looked away and back at the redheaded Fury.
“The services of the Furies for all eternity?”
A look of confusion twisted her shapeless face. Then she started making a sound like glass being scraped together. She was laughing over a private joke, and when she could she repeated to the other Furies that I thought I had their services for all eternity. They all started to make that same sound. Of glass being scraped together.
A panic overtook me as I tried to remember the text from the scrolls. “I have the services of the Furies for all eternity!” I insisted.
“No,” she corrected me. “You will service the Furies for all eternity.”
I remembered Hormsley warning me about the nuances of the Akkadian language. About how easy it is to make a mistake.
I remembered the text, realized the mistake I made. Then in a blind panic I scrambled to my feet, but before I could make it to the hallway they were on me, grabbing me and dragging me back to the redheaded Fury.
“No!” I yelled.
“You will service the Furies for all eternity. As written in the Scrolls of Hazaa.”
“No! God no!”
She ignored me and sunk her claws deep into the back of my thighs, then pushed me into her so my now rock-hard cock slid into that monstrous hole of hers. She then used me as a human dildo. There was nothing I could do to break free. Nothing to do but be pushed over and over again into that foulness. To have that sour, fetid breath against my face. To feel that ungodly tongue poking into my ear. All I could do was scream, but their own orgasmic screeching drowned me out.
For all eternity.
Beauty and the Beast
Richard Wilkey
 
 
 
 
d
on'tlookatmelikethat
Someone seemed to be scolding him. The voice was faint, hazy, almost distant. It sounded like a woman, but his mind was cloudy and his head ached so badly that it was difficult to concentrate. Where was he? What was going on?
don't-look-at-me-like-that
There it was again, but, hell, he wasn't looking at
anyone.
His fucking eyes were closed; he felt too dizzy to open them.
“Don't look at me like that!” her voice screeched again, intensifying his headache.
Jason Walker struggled to open his eyes to a wavering blur. Could this be the worst hangover of his life? The room seemed to sway to the left and then to the right, rocking as if he were on a distressed steamer on a stormy sea. As his senses gradually improved, he realized he was naked from head to toe—and strapped to a straight-back wooden chair. His worst hangover became his worst nightmare.
“Are you happy now ...
stalker
?”
He almost did a double take when his vision finally focused on her. She was stunningly gorgeous, with long brown hair that tumbled over her shoulders and a dark, even tan everywhere that he could see. She had sparkling blue eyes and was packed inside a light blue cutoff T-shirt that was at least a couple of sizes too small. She obviously wore no bra, because the nipples of a pair of what seemed to be grapefruit-sized, near-perfect breasts strained against the thin fabric. She wore ultratight, supershort shorts and looked like one of those Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders in black spiked heels. Few women in his life had taken his breath away, but the sight of this one could damn near put him inside an oxygen tank. But what the hell was she talking about? He hadn't been staring at her; his fucking eyes had been closed!
Jason tried to focus. A dog barked from another room of this scarcely furnished apartment. “Wh-what?” he managed to mumble. The nightmare was now transforming into his wildest fantasy. Here he sat, naked, his clothes obviously having been removed by this virtual goddess. Could it be some kind of twisted, sexy role-play that she wanted? But something felt wrong. She was almost a dream come true—except for her demeanor. She was fidgety, like she was either high on something or was suffering from withdrawal. She paced back and forth, taking short, quick steps, mumbling beneath her breath. Then she stopped and stared directly into his eyes.
“You were
gawking
at me, you asshole,” she hissed.
Jason expelled a burst of pent-up breath, becoming more aware of his nakedness. Who the hell
wouldn't
stare at her? But what the fuck was she talking about? He tested the tension at his bound hands and found it uncomfortably tight.
“Hey,” he began, “help me out here. I'm—”
“SHUT UP!” she yelled, her face a reflection of mounting anger. Jason realized that his perception was shifting once again, this time making a sharp U-turn from Fantasy Boulevard back to Nightmare Junction. The damn dog, still unseen, continued to bark incessantly.
This was crazy. He vaguely recalled meeting this sexpot in a bar. She'd been overtly flirtatious, and he thought he'd struck gold when she invited him to her place. They had made out on the sofa, but he couldn't remember much beyond that. It seemed she had made him a drink, and then ...
“You were leering at me,” she spat. “At the bar ...” Jason swallowed hard. “What? No!” he defended himself. “I wasn't leering at
anybody.
But you put something in my drink and—”
“Liar!” she interrupted him.
Jason slowly shook his head, but even the slightest movement amplified his headache. “Lady, I was just minding my own damn business at that bar when you—”
She stomped her right foot, the tip of her high-heeled black shoe slamming against the hardwood floor. “SHUT UP!” she yelled again. “Don't lie to me.” Her voice almost echoed within the sparsely decorated walls.
Jason struggled against the ropes and glanced around the room for any hope of help. He could barely see a worn-out sofa ten feet or so away, but the lights in that area of the apartment were off. He thought about yelling to get the attention of neighbors, but her own loud voice hadn't called attention to herself. Anyway, this bitch obviously had something evil in mind, and she could do whatever she wanted long before anyone could come to his assistance.
She stepped directly in front of him and bent over toward him, yielding a close-up view of her ample cleavage. “You wanted to
fuck
me,” she whispered.
There was definitely something wrong with this bitch. She was incredibly beautiful and sexy on the outside, but there was something dark and wicked within. How should he respond to her? Which answer did her twisted mind want to hear? “What?” he finally answered. “No, I didn't—”
She backed away and glared at him again. “You're all alike. You're
disgusting,
” she interrupted him again.
Now he was angry. Of course he'd wanted to fuck her. She'd baited him from the beginning, and he'd swallowed her hook. What the hell did she expect from him? Wasn't that what it was all about? “Listen, bitch,” he snarled, “I don't know who the hell you are or what you're trying to prove, but I want
out
of here.”
She smiled for a split-second, then hissed, “I told you to
SHUT UP!
” She stared at him through narrowed eyes and slowly shook her head in apparent disgust. “Besides, my name is not Bitch. It's Carla. You're thinking so much about fucking me that you can't even remember my name.”
Carla. The name did seem familiar. But she had obviously drugged him and wiped out much of his shortterm memory.
“But I remember
your
name ...
Jason.
” She pronounced it like it was a fresh pile of horseshit. “But names aren't important now.” She backed a step farther away and eyed her prey like a cat stalking a mouse, playing with him, taunting him. “Do you honestly think you can just lie your way out of this?” she said, finally in a calmer voice.
Jason shook his head again. The headache was clearing, and his senses were rapidly returning. He knew he had to do something. “You're fucking crazy, lady. I want out of here ...
now.
”
Carla strutted seductively toward him, laughing. “You're not in much of a position to tell me what to do ...
pervert,
” she said slyly.
Jason tried to calm himself. She was right. He shouldn't be so demanding. He'd have to be diplomatic to get out of this mess. The air conditioner kicked on, and a vent directly above him blew cold air across his exposed skin, raising chill bumps. No matter how he tried to lower his pulse, however, he couldn't control the anger in his voice. “I told you, dammit, I was just trying to get to know you. Sure, I was looking at you, but I never leer at
any
body. The way you were dressed, everybody in the whole damn place was giving you the eye.”
“Oh, so it's
my
fault now?”
Jason slowly shook his head and exhaled in frustration.
Now, suddenly, her attitude shifted again. She smirked at him, pursing her lips and batting her eyes seductively. “Do you really expect me to believe that you didn't want to fuck me?” she said. She ran her fingertips through her hair and jutted her breasts out farther. “Think you could pass a lie-detector test?”
Jason groaned and shook his head harder. She was crazier than he'd imagined. He struggled against the ropes again, but they were as tight as ever, offering little hope of escape. Should he play along with her? Maybe she'd loosen the ropes for whatever she had in mind, and he could make a run for it then. He was at a loss for words as the air conditioner chilled him even more.
“I'm not stupid. I knew all along what you were up to,” Carla said. “I know
exactly
what you want.”
Jason groaned in exasperation. “No, that's not—” He stopped in midsentence, reminding himself of her lie-detector question. “Yeah, yeah, I could pass a test,” he finally said. “Like you just happen to have a fucking lie detector in your closet, huh, bitch?”
She smiled, and her nerves seemed to suddenly calm. “Oh, no, not at all,” she cooed. “There's a lie detector right
here.
”
She was staring at him as she said it. What the hell did she mean? She wasn't making any sense, and he couldn't figure out what to say next. He swallowed hard, then said, “Okay, okay, so let's see your fucking lie detector.”
She stepped directly in front of him, bent to her knees, and stared at his crotch. “Oh, it's not
my
lie detector, honey. It's
yours.
Right there ... between your legs.”
She seductively pulled the tight T-shirt up and over her head, her breasts springing free with the most erotic jiggle he'd ever seen. Her dark pencil-eraser-sized nipples were erect and bobbing directly in his face. Her perfection seemed even more flawless than before. Jason was captivated.
She leaned closer, and he could smell her perfume, her mint-flavored breath. “If your lie detector doesn't move, I guess you really
don't
want to fuck me.” She slowly glided around him, her hip lightly grazing his naked arm. Then she leaned in close against the side of his head, nibbling at his ear and neck. “But if it points straight up ...” she whispered as she stepped back in front of him and slowly peeled her shorts down to her knees. She was wearing no panties.
Jason leaned as far back from her as he could get and closed his eyes. “Oh shit, this isn't fair.” He gasped. The familiar tingle began at his groin.
“Look at me!”
she hissed. She pinched his bare thigh sharply as she stepped out of her shorts and stood totally nude in front of him, revealing her smoothly shaven snatch. She slowly ran her fingertips down her body to her crotch, enticingly running her fingers between her legs. “If you're lying and your lie detector points straight up,” she repeated, “I might just have to ...”
His eyes expanded as she reached behind him, dangling her breasts in his face and bringing back a long, menacing knife.
“Cut it off!”
she spat.
Jason momentarily held his breath in shock, then pleaded, “No!
No!
”
She grasped the knife in her right hand and took in several deep breaths, thrusting her breasts forward, then slowly approached him. His dick responded as it normally did, as any heterosexual male's would. She smiled and wet her lips with her tongue, then carefully straddled his knees, facing him, leaning against him to whisper in his ear as she gazed down at his manhood. “Uh-oh. Your lie detector says you're lying,” she whispered.
Jason summoned all of his strength, trying to rock the chair to knock them both to the floor. “Oh God, no, lady—
please!
”
She laughed in his face and slid the blade of the knife against his cheek. Sensually she ran the fingers of her left hand through her hair again and softly moaned.
She's completely over the edge,
Jason realized. He leaned away from her again and felt his erection lightly graze against her pussy lips. It was maddening.
“When Pinocchio lied, his little nose grew,” she said in a lighthearted tone. “Looks like something
else
grows when
you
lie.”
“My God, lady, what the hell do you want from me?”
She brushed her breasts against his face, and he fought the urge to take an erect nipple into his mouth. “Just the truth, fucker,” she hissed. “I only want the truth.”
Jason's heart pounded against his chest, his skin tingling now with fear. “Please, lady. For God's sake, I've never done anything to you.”
She smiled wickedly and leaned in closer, pushing her breasts against his chest. “Oh, but you
want
to do something to me. That's all that men like you
ever
want, isn't it?”
His mind was spinning now. His dick stood at attention, and there was a sharp blade only inches away. He was at her mercy. “Listen, we can work this out. Do you really
want
me to fuck you? Is that what this is all about?”
She laughed and stared blankly into space for a brief instant, then kissed him long and passionately. When she pulled away, he saw an expression of lovely hatred, beauty and the beast all in one. His erection began to wilt, far too late. Terror consumed his consciousness. She glanced down at his crotch again and slowly shook her head. “Oh, too late for that,” she said. “The truth hurts.”
Carla smiled at him seductively, appearing almost normal again. Then she slid back along his lap to straddle his knees, making room to reach down between his legs. “Looks like I'll be adding another one to my collection... .”

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