Necromantic (6 page)

Instead, he reached around me and grasped the nipples of my right breast. He gave it a quick painful pinch before beginning to knead it gently.

“See how this works?” he whispered in my ear. “When you’re a good girl, you get good things.”

As red as some of my body parts were, I was definitely beginning to enjoy this. I decided to play along. My time limit, whether three or seven hours, felt like an eternity away. There was no shame in having some fun first.

“I’ll be good.” I put a little squeal of fright into my voice.

*CRACK*

“You’ll be whatever I want you to be. Is that clear?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“If I say you’ll be good, then you’ll be an angel. If I want you bad, you’ll be a nasty little cunt. Is that clear?”

I bristled at his use of that word. Games or not, I didn’t like being called it. Still, when in Rome... “Crystal.”

*SMACK*

“Master!” I quickly added.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded.

When I did so, he looped the belt around my face so that the strap was now between my teeth. I felt him tighten it in his fist behind my head.

“Hold still.”

Using his other arm, he grabbed me around the waist and dragged me slightly backwards, straining my restraints, so that I was at an angle. I knew what was coming next.

The tip of his engorged member came up between my spread thighs. I felt it press against my pussy lips, coating itself in the juices that now flowed freely from me. I tried to lower my hips so that he entered me, but he pulled on the belt, yanking my head back.

“I
said
don’t move,” he growled. “I will do things in my own good time.”

I tried to protest, but it came out as a muffled grunt.

“This is your punishment for last time,” he continued. “You will do nothing but take me as I see fit to give myself to you. If I want to fuck you slowly, I will.” The head of his penis rubbed casually against my vulva, driving me mad with desire. “If I want to take you hard and fast...” With one violent thrust, he filled me. I let out a muffled gasp as this body was stretched to its limits. Harold’s meaning was clear. He was in charge and there was nothing I could do about it. The truth was, I didn’t want to. All thoughts as to my predicament, my time limit, or anything else, fled my mind.

There was only flesh, his inside of mine.

Chapter 8

Harold took his time. He must’ve fucked me for nearly an hour. At times, he was excruciatingly slow, sometimes taking an eternity to do more than move an inch. At other moments, he jack-hammered me mercilessly until the only things keeping me upright were my restraints.

I orgasmed at least twice, once explosively so. Whoever this body was, she was a bit of a squirter. A small puddle of my wetness lay below where I stood. At last, when I could barely stand it anymore, I felt Harold tense up.

“No,” he spat. “You’re not worthy of my gifts.”

He pulled out of me. A few moments later, something hot and wet splashed against my backside. I felt it -
him
- drip down my body, down my legs. I was like a dirty slut who had just been used. It was marvelous.

He pressed up against me again and I felt his rapidly deflating cock push between my ass cheeks.

“This is all you get,” he gasped, rubbing himself clean against me.

The euphoria of being screwed was starting to wear off and I found myself struggling not to roll my eyes at his dominant male shtick. The things that some people got off on - go figure. Of course, I was no better...or at least the body I inhabited wasn’t. Hadn’t I thoroughly enjoyed what had been done to me? As much as I hated to admit it, I knew the answer to that one.

When Harold was done using my ass as a dishrag, he stepped back and took a moment to catch his breath. During that time, I began to get a little nervous again. What if he decided to leave me as I was? My arms and legs were already beginning to ache and not just from his whippings. I was beginning to feel like I had been crucified. He could potentially choose to leave me tied up for the duration of my stay, and there would be nothing I could do about it. While I’d escape in the end, he could still make my remaining few hours a living hell.

Fortunately, that didn’t come to pass. After regaining his composure, he reached down and untied my ankles. Once that was done, sore as they were, I was able to position them so that I wouldn’t fall flat onto my face when he untied my arms, which he thankfully did next.

“Thank you,” I said sarcastically, once freed.

“What?” he asked in a mock hurt voice. “Don’t tell me that wasn’t fun.”

I wasn’t about to blatantly lie...at least about that. Instead, still feeling his residue on my backside, I asked for a towel.

“Help yourself,” he replied offhandedly, strolling over to the bed.

Under his watchful eye, I nonchalantly walked to the bathroom and grabbed something to dry off with, catching a good look at myself in the mirror. The body I inhabited wasn’t exactly ugly, but one could easily tell she had seen some tough times. I remembered my earlier thoughts of world-weary. It definitely fit this person.

Stepping back into the bedroom, while wiping off any excess stickiness clinging to me, I asked, “So what’s the story here. What happened to J...,” Fortunately I caught myself just before saying “Julie.” Harold hadn’t told me her name. Hell, he hadn’t told me any of their names as of late. I really needed to be more careful. Once more, though, I wondered why I didn’t just spill my little secret to him. Wouldn’t that be for the best?

Again, I wasn’t sure. It was just a gut feeling, I guess. “I mean, what happened to that other girl? She was kind of cute.”

Harold just shrugged. If he had any indication of what I had been about to say, he didn’t show it. “What can I say; variety is the spice of life.”

“Besides,” he continued, after a momentary pause. “What does it matter what they look like? I know that it’s you inside. That’s what matters.”

I was touched. As odd as the statement was, it was sweet nevertheless. I felt my heart melting a little for him. Had I really been angry over something so trivial?

Keeping up with the conversation, I playfully asked, “Yeah, but what about once I’m gone again?”

“My interest in them fades with you, my dear,” he replied, looking me in the eye. “I do enough to keep up the charade, then quickly usher them out the door, cab money in hand, if need be.”

Wait a minute. He hadn’t ushered Julie anywhere except maybe back into bed. Hell, his interest hadn’t seemed to wane either, judging by the daddy-dearest fucking he had given me thinking I was her. I was likewise willing to bet that he hadn’t exactly turned her away once I’d finally departed from her body, the taste of his dick still strong in my memory. Was it because she had been so young and pretty, or was it all yet another lie?

The next hour and a half would tell me my answer. I just hoped I’d be around to see it.

* * *

Harold and I spent the time lying next to each other, mostly just engaging in small talk. As the time of my presumed departure neared, I asked him if he’d like to tie me up again. After all, that’s how this body’s owner had been when I had taken over. He shook his head, though; explaining to me there was usually enough confusion to warrant a slight change in the situation. “Besides which,” he said, “I’m too tired. I think I’ll just ask her to get dressed and leave.”

I looked down at his body and sure enough, he was still flaccid. Maybe I was grasping at straws.

Harold glanced over at the clock. I followed his gaze and saw that my allotted time was up. Would I be shunted back to the beyond or would my little switcheroo work? I didn’t feel any different, but that didn’t mean anything. With Harold’s original...mixture, I guess, the change was sudden. It was only under the modified recipe that it happened gradually.

I figured it was best to act it out, just in case. I’d vacated enough bodies to know how it worked. I could do a fairly good approximation of it from memory alone.

I shuddered and lay my head down, Harold watching me the entire time. I opened my mouth and said, “I love you.” Then I closed my eyes and lay still, waiting to see if I would actually leave.

“Goodbye, Lydia,” he replied, and then was silent.

For some minutes, I lay there, feigning unconsciousness. I counted the seconds in my head. Still nothing. When I was certain my time limit had passed, I let out a breath. It was more sigh of relief than anything, but apparently Harold took it as sign that I was coming to.

“Darla? Are you awake?” His hands gently rolled me over onto my stomach. “Because I have something just for you.”

With a start, my eyes opened wide as something penetrated my rear end...my husband’s no-longer flaccid cock.

Chapter 9

Harold roughly ass fucked me as if I were no better than a cheap whore. Hell, for all I knew that’s what Darla was. My hair was pulled, my ass slapped, and welts were left up and down my back. All the while, I did my best to pretend to be someone else. I adopted what I hoped sounded like tawdry language, screaming out to him to “Do me like that, baby!” and other such trashy phrases until, at last, he shot his seed deep inside of me.

“That was nice,” he said, rolling off of me, breathing heavily.

“I aim to please,” I replied in the rough voice of this body, not really knowing what else to say. Still, an idea began to form in my mind. “You look kind of tired. Want me to hit the road?”

Harold raised an eyebrow and looked at me. Had I just given myself away?

“Don’t be silly, baby,” he replied. “That was just the backdoor. I want to try all the other entrances too.”

I forced a giggle at that. Christ, did other women really dig that kind of talk? “I can’t wait,” I said in a voice that hopefully sounded enthusiastic.

“Let’s just relax for a bit and then I’ll show you what I mean.” He pulled the covers over him and put his arms behind his head, closing his eyes. Apparently
relax
was code for
pass out
. Good. That would give me a chance to do a little more exploring.

First, though, I decided to probe a little. Harold’s failure to respond to my earlier statement of love hadn’t gone unnoticed by any stretch of the imagination. Sure, it had been difficult to formulate a proper response while he had been ramrodding me from behind, but now that my orifices were clear again, so was my mind.

“Nice house,” I said conversationally.

“Mmm hmm,” he murmured in response.

“Live here a long time?”

“Yep.”

“Seems like a lot for just one person. You got a wife, maybe a girlfriend?”

“Why, you interviewing for the job?” he asked with a chortle, his tone suggesting that he was being dismissive.

“Not me. I like the single life,” I said, pretending to not notice his attitude. “Just curious is all. This place looks like it’s seen a woman’s touch.”

“I used to be married,” he replied, eyes still closed. “But that was a long time ago.”

Okay, now we were getting somewhere. I just had to be careful with how deep I probed. “What happened?”

“It ended.” He turned over, facing away from me. His body posture said he was getting comfortable. I only had a few more seconds before he would be out. I knew Harold. Insomnia had never been a problem for him.

“Divorce?” I asked casually, knowing that not to be the case.

Thus, I was stunned when he replied, “Something like that,” before beginning to snore softly.

* * *

What the hell did he mean
something like that
?! I was tempted to smack him awake and demand answers, but realized that would be counterproductive. I knew there would be time to dig further later on. Harold hadn’t caught on with the ingredient switch. As soon as he was asleep, I’d be free to continue what I had started last time.

If I played my cards right, the same scenario would play itself out again for as long as the supply of mandrake lasted. I’d screw his brains out as both myself and whomever I was impersonating (which I had to admit wasn’t entirely a bad thing. I wasn’t exactly suffering in that regard), then, when he was asleep, I’d have some time to try and put together the pieces of the puzzle Harold had become.

I waited patiently. Unfortunately, just as his snores became deeper, he rolled over and pinned me down with his arm. Fuck! If I tried to pry him off of me, I’d run the risk of waking him up. If that happened, I’d be back to square one.

I laid there on my back, one of Harold’s arms draped across my chest, waiting for him to move. Eventually I started to get bored. Remembering that I’d soon be shunted back to Never-Never Land, where I’d have to wait until again summoned to taste of earthly delights, I decided to use the time wisely. Reaching down, I began to touch myself.

I was light at first, exploring what this body responded to. Gradually, though, I began to get bolder. My breathing intensified as I rubbed my swollen clitoris. I began to shift my upper body, feeling my nipples rub against the course skin of Harold’s arm. It seemed he was going to help me out again after all, regardless of his intentions.

Eventually, I reached down and inserted two fingers into myself while continuing to masturbate with my other hand. It wasn’t quite the same as having Harold inside of me, but it was good enough. I felt a shudder rip through me as my nerve endings caught on fire.

I tried to hold my breath, despite yearning to cry out, but a small gasp escaped my lips regardless. Right then, Harold shifted. Still in the grip of orgasm, I turned my head toward him. My vision was hazy, all my senses directed toward my lower body, but I could see his eyes were still closed. With a snort, he turned over and began snoring louder than ever, drowning out the heavy sighs still coming from my mouth.

* * *

I must have dozed off for a little while after taking care of myself, for when I again looked toward the clock I saw that my time was running short. What should have been three hours of free exploration was now less than one. I mentally cursed myself. Served me right, too. Here I was, jerking myself off like some lonely teenager, when I should have been concentrating on the task at hand. Stupid!