Worlds of BBW Erotic Romance - Box Set (8 page)

She could feel that tight warmth building again in her cunny… the tension winding like a delicious spring.

He slipped his hands under her back so that he could hold her, while using his elbows to hold himself up. He continued his vigorous athletic thrusting as the tension of Julia’s own pleasure built.

She suddenly had a mad desire to get as much of him inside of her as possible. She spread her legs and eased them up over his back, locking her claves around his taut buttocks. This pose opened her as fully as possible to him, while she pulled him in deep with her legs. So deep, indeed, that she felt the tip of his prick might kiss the mouth of her very womb…

“Unhh!” he moaned. “Pretty, what are you—?”

His face suddenly looked tense and troubled, and he bit his lip. “It’s too much,” he told her. “I’m not able to hold… Uh…”

“Let go,” she told him, smiling up at him, stroking his bearded cheek. “I’m almost there, too… Let’s go together, Edwin… Please… As fast as you can.”

He needed no further encouragement.

He picked up his tempo even more, thrusting almost viciously into her now. But there was no pain for her, only a heightening pleasure…

Building and building like a storm about to erupt in a peal of glorious thunder.

Her entire body was vibrating with fiery tension and a need for release…

Edwin went first. She heard him grunt loudly, and felt him shudder as he pushed in deep. She knew that he was giving her his seed, and she imagined that he could feel the warmth of it deep inside of her.

That sent her over the edge. With her legs wrapped around his buttocks, she held him deep as her cunny spasmed and churned around his jerking cock.

His mouth came down to meet hers, kissing her deep, their lips and tongues locked together as they were joined in their climaxes. The white-hot quivering pleasure seemed to blend their bodies and souls into each other.

As his climax faded, Edwin propped himself up on his elbows, his prick still sheathed inside her. He planted tiny kisses on her cheeks and forehead.

“I need that… always…” he whispered. “Julia, I need you… Always.”

“I know,” she said. “I believe you.”

And she truly did. She wished that their time alone together could last forever.

But she knew that was not to be…

#

When it was over, they lay together in each other’s arms. Ed held onto Julia for dear life, knowing he never wanted to let go, never wanted to lose her…

But what chance did they really have? Still, he would do his best to try and make sure she was safe, at least.

The room was now cloaked in darkness. They had slipped under the covers of the bed, and Ed held Julia’s soft, naked form, smelling the subtle floral scent of her perfume as he kissed her shoulders, then buried his face in her mane of fiery hair.

“We ought to get dressed in our shifts,” Julia said at long last. “Perhaps arrange the bundling bags so that it appears that we’ve been restrained the whole time?”

“No,” Ed said. “To hell with them. I’m not letting go of you until I have to.”

“But Edwin,” she protested. “We can’t upset father now. We got carried away, but it’s important to—“

“What’s that?” Ed asked. There was a rhythmic noise suddenly, building in intensity, the vibrations strong enough to shake the bed. “It sounds like footsteps.”

They hadn’t heard any footsteps in the hall outside for several hours. Suddenly, though, the dull thudding of feet could be heard downstairs.

Feet moving in unison.

The first thing that came into his mind was that it was a bunch of soldiers, maybe from the garrison in town? Because it sounded a bit like a march.

But the rhythm was too slow for a march, though it was becoming very loud:
BOOM-silence-BOOM-silence-BOOM.

It was as if many people were climbing the stairs with heavy steps, all lifting their feet at the same time.

Suddenly, there was a scrabbling at the door. As Ed and Julia scrambled to put on their shifts and cover themselves, there was the sound of a key in the lock of the door on the other side. 

The door creaked open… Only halfway…

Revered Mott entered with the now familiar crackling sound of his dry, dead steps, his bony mouth working soundlessly as he gazed at the pair on the bed.

He sucked in a breath with a hiss, then croaked: “Thhhhhey mmmarchhh nowwww ffforrr theirrrr G-Goddd, gird-ded by hisssss blood-deeee wrrrrathhhh. And the daaaay of juuuudge-ment comessss forrrr the un-riiii-chus!”

The footsteps came closer: 

BOOM-silence-BOOM-silence-BOOM.

In the hall right outside now …

And then, the sounds stopped, and all was silent.

Rector Powell slipped through the half-opened door. He was trembling, his hair plastered to his sweat-damp forehead …

But his blood-red eyes were wide and wild.

Ed worried that he might be angered that they had escaped from the bundling bags. But the Rector seemed to be caught in some insane ecstasy, and didn’t even notice that the pair had escaped from their bonds.

“Children!” he gasped. “The penultimate phase is over. The Master has shared the fruits of his spirit with so many. Soon, our turn will come. But, for now … ”

He moved aside, and the door creaked open, revealing the marchers in the hall.

Mrs. Starks was there; Ed immediately recognized her white hair and grey dress. Mister Starks, too, with his holey boots and his natty beard.

Ed could pick out several more of the servants based on these little details, and for a long moment his mind played this game, not wanting to really see them—their skin, their faces, the unnaturally stiff way they stood …

Julia’s desperate screams brought him around, and then he had to really look at them, had to
see
.

There were about twenty of them, filling the hall and now pressing into the doorway, entering the bedroom.

Ed guessed that every servant in the house was there, from stable boy to scullery maid—or at least, what had once been the servants.

They
had been
changed.

Their skin was grey and porous, muscle and tendons glistening underneath. Their red eyes were bulging like little rotten fruits, and each wore a terrible, lipless smile. The things’ chests rose and fell in unison, the raspy hissing of their breathing like a chorus from hell, burning in Ed’s ears.

The Rector came forward now, grinning as the things stomped into the room behind him.

“We must talk, child,” he said to Julia, bending over the bed. “Things are moving very quickly.”

Ed felt cold and numb all over. “You bastard,” was all he could think to say, and it came out in a choked whisper.

“You rutting … evil … bastard!”

It was time for yet another mad supper at the Rector’s house.

Ed sat next to Julia, in the same seats they’d taken before. Mott was across the table, grinning with his blackened teeth as usual.

Beside the table, along the wall on either side, a row of ghoulish servant-things stood guard, arms crossed, breath rasping. There were five of them on each side, and Ed was nauseated by the acrid smell of their porous flesh.

Still, when the Rector put a plate of stale biscuits and cheese in front of him, Ed took a few bites, washing it down with a large sip of water.

He knew he needed to keep up his strength.

While he nibbled on the biscuit, he noticed a single knife nearby on the table—no doubt forgotten after a previous meal. Carefully, he reached over and took hold of the blade, sliding it beside his plate where it was largely hidden.

Julia glanced at him as he moved it, but said nothing. He wanted to push it into his lap and slide it into his trousers, but her father was coming …

The Rector seemed downright giddy as he approached the table, skipping over to them with his own plate of food, singing some patriotic hymn:

“Sweet Albion, our blessed land, may God’s grace touch you al-ways …”

“You’re singing about God?” Ed asked.

Actually, what he’d wanted to say was:
You have the gall to sing about God while you prance around the walking corpses of your servants, you smug-faced demon sodomizing heretic?

But for Julia’s sake and his own, he didn’t want to anger her father at the moment.

The Rector shrugged. “Well, old habits die hard, as the common saying goes. There were many years when I felt that I burned for God, the God of the Holy Bible …”

He took a seat across from them, and leaned forward, grinning, to explain:

“All of my life, I’ve had a fire burning inside of me. This is but an outward manifestation of that blaze,” he explained, pointing to his crimson eyes. “I knew that I had a drive towards holy violence, to tear down the walls and palaces of the mighty. I thought it was a divine calling, and that through the Church I might find my destiny. But I was
wrong.”

Smiling, he shook his head as if to say,
silly me.
“I found my real Master on this estate, under that mound. He told me that I was destined by ancient design to serve his will. And his power is no divine mystery to be understood only through prayer and meditation … It is real, palpable, strong! Behold his work!”

He spread his arms to indicate the servant-things.

“That demon in the pit did this to them?” Ed asked.

“He is NOT a demon!” the Rector snapped back. “You are in no position to judge him, boy!” He stood and leaned forward, raising his hand as if about to bludgeon Ed with it …

At the last instant, he held himself back. Instead, bellowing with rage, he swept his arm across the table, knocking Ed’s cup and plate and the knife beside it to the floor.

Julia gasped in her seat beside Ed …

But then, the Rector pulled back, sliding slowly down into his chair, rubbing his eyes like a man much wearied.

When he withdrew his hands, his smile had returned. “Your ignorance is understandable, I suppose,” he said. “The Master is no beast. He is of the most ancient intelligent race
.
And he is—and always has been—the wisest amongst his kind. And now, human men and women shall be his vessels.”

“But these vessels have holes,” Ed said, nodding towards the servant-things behind him.

He felt Julia’s fingernails biting his arm in warning.

But Ed knew that he had to try and understand what was going on, what the Rector was thinking. He needed to learn everything he could if he was going to get them out of the place.

The Rector sighed. “Well … It would take a long time to explain. Suffice it to say that the Master has an
affliction.
Ideally, that affliction would not spread to these human vessels, but alas—we have been rushed in our work. It is no matter. With so many vessels, my Master will soon be indestructible. His mind and will shall dwell in every corner of the land!”

Ed suddenly remembered the map of the colonies he’d seen in the basement, with the red lines running to all of the cities. “You’re sending those things … uh, vessels … out to the cities?” he asked.

The Rector laughed. “Oh no! This run with the servants was just a final test. Tomorrow, after he’s had a chance to rest, the Master shall project his soul across all of the land. His soul will be reflected in the mind and body of every man, woman and child. All will be
changed
, yielding their flesh as well as their essential beings to him.”

“So they’ll ALL be like … this?” Ed gasped, looking at the servant-things.

Everyone
—
in the town of Bramble Gorge, in all of Pennsylvania, all across the colonies
—
walking around like a mindless corpse, a flesh-puppet for that Croatoan monster in the pit?

EVERYONE?

Rutting hell!

Ed tried to imagine all of them, everyone he’d ever known … his parents, his brothers, Constance Clement, Mother Henne … all suddenly looking up from their daily work as Croatoan’s hate washed over them, eyes rolling up and limbs going stiff as their flesh was partially dissolved.

He wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, even upon all those whom he despised.

And what about Julia?

He imagined her in a wedding gown, pretty and glowing in white, smiling as her pink lips melted to putrid goo and her freckled face was forever lost to a bony grin …

There was no way he could sit by and wait for that to happen!

And now, he knew--even if they escaped the house, she would still be lost.

“Will they all be like these first ones here?” The Rector asked aloud, tilting his head. “Yes, I expect so. I know they are unsightly to us now … But think of the spiritual union with the Master! Do not worry. When the time comes, we shall all be included. Even you, my dear Constable Bolt. You will not be able to resist this time. Then all of our worries will end—all earthly concerns gone, forever and ever. Amen.”

Julia was shaking, turning pale. “But Father!” she cried. “What about the WEDDING? You didn’t forget?”

“No, dearest child,” he shook his head, smiling. “Of course not. We can hold the ceremony tonight, if you’d like?”

“So soon?” she sobbed. “But Father, it has to be special! There should be music and candles and decorations and … um … other things.
Wedding things.”

She glanced up at Ed as she said this, and he saw a hint of some plot in her eyes …
             

Of course!
She was trying to stall her father. If the wedding might be put off, then the Master’s plans might also be delayed—at least until the Rector had fulfilled his promise to his daughter.

It would buy them some time …

“We need a marriage certificate,” Ed said, nodding sagely and hoping he sounded authoritative enough. “I know that from working with the clerk’s office. Need a marriage certificate with the local Magistrate’s seal to make it official and legal and all, right?”

The Rector nodded. “Very well. The machinery is in place below and the Master is resting, so I should have time to prepare a few things. I can send a message to town for the certificate. But tomorrow must be the day, and then … well, by tomorrow evening the Master will be rested and ready for his own triumph.”

Rutting hell.

So perhaps they couldn’t delay the Master’s plan. But could they put themselves in a better position to get away? If only they could warn someone, the Magistrate or one of the churchmen in town, or anyone who might listen.

But they had to get away from the Rector first.

Ed had a sudden idea … He leaned over and whispered in Julia’s ear.

She nodded at his suggestion. “Father,” she said. “I think we should have the wedding in a proper church. Someplace pretty like … well, the big church in town?”

The Rector shook his head, closing his eyes as if pained. “Daughter, child … the Master will not want us to leave this house now. You must understand. I will do whatever I can to make the ceremony special for you, but we must have it here.”

Damn it all.

And yet, Ed realized, there was another possibility … But would the Rector allow it?

In order to convince him, he’d have to put on an act. Ed had always hated those who lied easily—yet now he knew that their lives and the fate of all the people in the American colonies might rest on the glibness of his own tongue.

“Julia,” he said, “please … um … dear, don’t be unreasonable. Your father’s right. The Master will soon be inside everyone, everywhere, and we must accept it, even on our wedding day. We can’t run from him, right?”

Julia’s eyes widened and her lower lip trembled, as if she couldn’t believe what he was saying. Under the table, he squeezed her hand hard several times, hoping she would understand that this was a game, and that he needed her to play along.

“We have to accept the Master’s plan, right?” he continued. “So, Julia, if you want to have the wedding in a place like a church—why not hold it in the Master’s cavern? There are all those shiny pillars down there and it’s very … umm … cathedral-looking, isn’t it? We can get married right beside the Master’s pit and await the seeds of his soul and … all that.”

The Rector nodded enthusiastically and clapped his hands. “Yes, a wonderful idea! You can pledge your bond in the presence of the Master, before he creates a bond with all of us. How wonderfully symbolic!”

Symbolic it might be, but Ed had his own reasons for the choice of the place. There was a door leading directly out of that cavern to the estate grounds. Guarded, perhaps, but they had no other chance.

It might be a way for his dearest Julia to escape …

Ed himself had another duty.

The demon itself lived in a pit down there. Croatoan was a tough little beast, but Ed would try to kill him—bare-handed, if need be.

He didn’t know if it was courage or practical truth that had led him to this path. After all, if Croatoan had his way, then there’d be
nowhere
safe, no place to run …

And at least if the beast killed him, he’d never end up as a walking piece of spoiled meat.

But Julia! For her, he had to do whatever he could…

“Is this arrangement all right with you, daughter?” the Rector asked. “It sounds like splendid idea.”

Julia nodded, smiling nervously. “Yes,” she said. “My Edwin is so clever to come up with such things.” She squeezed his hand hard several times under the table, answering his earlier signal.

Good,
he thought.
She knows. She understands.

The Rector spread his arms. “Well, then. Let us eat and preserve our strength. Tomorrow we should all be quite busy, yes?”

“Oh Edwin—your plate! I forgot!” Julia exclaimed, quickly bending under the table. The Rector was buttering a biscuit and didn’t seem to take any special notice of what she was doing below.

Ed saw her grab his plate, fumble for the cup … and was she sliding something into her stocking, under the cover of her skirt?

The knife!
He’d almost forgotten about it. Did she have the knife?

She pulled herself out from under the tablecloth, set Ed’s plate in front of him, and placed half of a dust-soiled biscuit back upon it.

Turning to him, she nodded, as if to say,
I knew what you needed, I got it for you.

So he would have a weapon, after all …