She leaned against the wall letting the steaming water wash away the unclean, oily feeling on her skin. Her bright green eyes stared, unseeing, as the twenty one year old druid focused her thoughts on the prophetic dream.
The dream had been dark and hazy. The images had rushed past in an incongruent jumble.
Brianna blinked her eyes and brushed a water straightened lock of her normally curly auburn hair off her lightly freckled cheek.
The dream had been to chaotic and unclear. The images had come to fast and to clouded for her to completely unravel its meaning.
The hot water had washed away the soiled feeling of the dream, turning her pale, freckled skin pink in the process. Despite the heat, a cold chill ran through her slender, athletic body as she thought of the dream’s one clear message.
An awesomely powerful and ancient being had stirred from it’s home on a higher plane plane of existence. It was extremely dangerous and it was coming to play.
*****
“Hurry up Heather,” the nineteen year old coven leader demanded, tapping the toe of her knee high, stiletto heeled boots impatiently.
“Coming Miranda,” Heather replied submissively, swinging her legs over the wrought iron fence and dropping to the ground awkwardly.
“Bout time,” Miranda huffed.
“Sorry Miranda,” Heather apologized, embarrassed by the lack of grace and athleticism in her eighteen year old full figured body.
“Whatever,” the pretty blonde said dismissively. “Let’s go, it’s almost midnight,” she said, turning abruptly.
Heather bent over, retrieving the back pack she had tossed over the fence before making her less than picturesque climb. She slung the straps over her shoulders as she started walking deeper into the old cemetery, hurrying to catch up.
“Are the other girls coming,” Heather asked, trying to make conversation.
“Those bitches better be set up and waiting already,” Miranda answered brusquely, her tone indicating she didn’t want to talk.
Heather took the hint and resigned herself to silence.
Feelings of jealousy, admiration and hidden lust filled the shy, chubby and secretly bisexual teen as she snuck discreet glances at the girl next to her.
Miranda’s creamy skin and golden hair glowed in the light of the full moon. Her fishnet clad legs carried her in long, purposeful strides. Her full, perky breasts bounced alluringly above the low cut bodice of her short black dress with every step.
With frizzy, mouse brown hair, a build she didn’t know how to utilize and a face that was more pleasant than pretty, Heather felt drab by comparison. She brushed at her black t-shirt and the front of her jeans self consciously.
“Let’s get started,” Miranda said as they entered the area prepared by Becky and Liz, the two other members of the coven.
They moved into position quickly, none of the three wishing to incite Miranda’s wrath.
The air was redolent with the smell of burning incense as Miranda led the rituals, giving praise to and asking favors of their deity.
Heather, still chanting, looked at her coven sisters as she registered a sudden and dramatic cooling of the warm summer air. Liz and Becky looked back, her alarm reflected in their eyes.
“It’s a sign,” Miranda cried joyously, finally registering the cold. “We are being given a blessing! Glory be unto our lord!”
“Glory be,” the three girls echoed in an automatic chorus that lacked their usual feeling.
“Look,” Miranda shouted excitedly, pointing at the center of their circle.
Thick, black smoke billowed from the ground in front of them. It spread outward and upward, stopping at the edge of their circle and about twelve feet in the air. The inky black smoke thickened rapidly, first obscuring the other side of the circle then, blocking it completely.
Heather ran around the smoke circle, trying to locate her coven sisters. She rounded to the other side and spotted Miranda, dancing and laughing with insane delight. She looked around frantically for Liz and Becky, finally spotting them as they ran down the path that led out of the cemetery.
“Isn’t this magnificent,” Miranda cried as Heather approached. “Look at our blessing Heather! Look at the power of our Lord,” she said, grabbing Heather and turning her.
The smoke had begun to swirl counter clock wise, resembling a miniature and unnaturally dark tornado.
“We have to get out of here,” Heather said, suddenly sensing a powerful and malevolent presence looming unseen in the swirling darkness.
“Then go! Go with the others! Be gone and good riddance to ye faithless bitches,” Miranda cried, pushing Heather away roughly.
“Please Miranda,” Heather began but, her plea died on her tongue as the smoke began to rapidly dissipate.
Heather froze, eyes wide and mouth agape as the thinning swirl briefly revealed the silhouette of a monstrous creature.
Warm piss soaked her jeans, ran down her thighs and puddled in her shoe unnoticed as she struggled to run, scream, something. Instead, the world around her went dark from the outside in as she feinted, barely missing a headstone as she fell to the soft grass.
Miranda stopped dancing and watched the smoke clear. Her eyes blazed insanely as she waited to receive her blessing.
A tall, handsome man stood in the center of the clearing circle, looking down at himself as he moved his arms and flexed his fingers.
“Are you a demon,” Miranda asked hopefully.
The man looked up at her, his eyes flaring briefly with an orange, fiery light before shifting to a bright blue.
“I have been called such,” he answered absently. He ran his hand down the front of his white t-shirt and the thigh of his jeans, becoming acquainted with the texture of the clothing.
“I command you to tell me your name demon,” she ordered confidently.
“You command me nothing,” he replied, running his fingers through his thick, black hair.
“You were sent here to serve me,” Miranda shouted, crossing her arms in front of her breasts. “Now, tell me your name!”
His gaze broke her confidence. Shattered her illusion of control and filled her with fear.
She took a step back, dropping her arms and preparing to run.
Something that felt like the hands of an invisible giant seized her, halting her second step and lifting her off the ground.
“You humans always have been stupid and insolent,” the man said conversationally as Miranda began to move toward him. “You command me? Sent to serve you,” he said mockingly.
Miranda came to a halt inches from the man’s face, her eyes wide, her breasts heaving with her heavy, panicked breathing.
“I serve only myself! No one commands Marliel,” he shouted in an inhuman growl.
He relaxed visibly and ran his eyes over her body. A sinister grin grew on his face as he reached out and took a firm grip on the bodice of her dress.
“You have my name human. Now, I will take what I came for,” he said.
Mariel pulled on her dress, his supernatural strength ripping the material from her body with no apparent effort.
She struggled to cover her exposed breasts but, the invisible bonds wouldn’t let her.
He hooked a finger in the string waistband of her black panties and ripped them off too, baring her clean shaven pussy.
Shame, embarrassment and fear flooded through her as she was propelled backward and placed on the flat top of a large headstone. Her fishnet and boot clad legs were spread forcefully apart.
Through wide, tear filled eyes, she watched Marliel approach, moving with a predatory grace.
He stood between her legs and reached in his pants, pulling out a massive ten inch cock.
He leaned over her, grinning sadistically. He clamped a hand around her throat, lessening her air without cutting it off entirely.
Burning pain shot through her as he shoved his cock into her tight, dry pussy. Her body went rigid as the thickness of his dick split the sensitive flesh of her womanhood in a single, merciless thrust.
He pulled back and shoved in again, the length of him hitting, then pushing, deep inside.
Miranda nearly lost consciousness as he pounded into her, adding a stabbing pain in her stomach to the feeling of being split in half.
Mariel watched the girl’s tits bounce wildly as he drove into her. He reached up and grabbed one of the firm, pale globes. His fingers dug in as he squeezed, bruising the pale flesh.
He brought his hand to his face, extending his index finger. His fingernail changed in the blink of an eye, transforming into a razor sharp black claw.
He lay the claw on her chest and pulled it up her tit and over her pink nipple. A shallow cut appeared, welling blood in spots.
Miranda’s eyes flew open as he cut her nipple, the burn in that sensitive flesh adding to the pain of her battered pussy. She watched with tear filled eyes and gritted teeth as he repeated the cutting process on her other breast. A trickle of blood ran from her burning nipple, down the inside slope of her breast and pooled between her bouncing tits.
Mariel snarled through clenched teeth as his cock began to pulse, spewing cum deep inside the girls battered, bruised and bleeding cunt.
Miranda cried out, her violation complete, as she felt his demon seed shoot into her. A liquid, burning cold started in her lower stomach, growing in intensity and spreading up her body with every pulse of his massive cock.
His orgasm finally subsided, he pulled his cock from her tortured pussy. His cum spilled out of her cunt, tinged with the blood of her torn flesh.
He put his cock away and zipped his pants. He looked down at himself, taking note of his rumpled, blood and cum stained attire. With a thought, his dirty garments were replaced.
Miranda, released from the invisible hands, slid off the headstone and crumpled on the ground. She curled into a ball, sobbing with shame and shivering from the cold inside of her.
Mariel headed for the path, glancing disinterestedly at Heather as she began to stir.
He strode casually down the gravel path, his form faded as he slipped into a higher plane of existence were he could rest and search for more fun.
*******
Brianna placed her hands on her small, perky breasts and squeezed as hard as she could again. Her tits were covered in fingertip sized red marks, some of which would become bruises on her pale, freckled skin.
Her right hand slid down her flat stomach, through the soft red curls of her pubic hair. She slipped her fingers into the warm, slippery wetness between her slit and began to rub hard and fast, causing further reddening of her sensitive pussy.
The fingers of her left hand pinched hard and pulled her already swollen nipples.
She writhed in a combination of pain and pleasure, pushing her blankets further off her big, four post bed onto the floor with the clothes she has fallen asleep in.
Brianna had searched and searched for further information about her dream, using vast amounts of energy in the process. She had fallen into bed too exhausted to undress.
She had sat up suddenly, pulling her clothes off and throwing them uncharacteristically on the floor. She began her rough masturbation moments later as sleep unknowingly became the connected trance she had been trying for.
She plunged as many of her fingers as deep into her dripping hole, pounding them in over and over.
She lay her left hand on her thigh and curled her fingers like a claw, her nails digging into her skin.
Her right hand stretching and bruising her pussy, she drug her left hand up her body.
Her nails dug into her skin, leaving dug out hollows as she scratched up her thigh to her stomach. She dug a little deeper, drawing spots of blood as she ran her nails across her stomach and up the small mound of her left tit. She clawed deepest as she crossed her small, hard nipple, leaving a deep, ragged cut.
Blood ran from her nipple, down the bottom and inside of her breast. Her pussy gushed, wetting her hand and the inside of her thighs, leaving a dark, wet circle on the bed sheet.
She sat bolt upright as the last pulses of her orgasm shot pleasure through her body. The last of her moans died softly in her throat as her green eyes flew open.
She forced herself to hold on to sights and sounds of her dream trance. Grasping at the images of a cemetery, the sight of a pretty blonde being stripped forcefully and raped on a headstone.
Brianna saw the girls tears and bouncing breasts. She even saw the girl who feinted. She saw everything except the being responsible.
She plunged her fingers into her thick, auburn hair and squeezed her temples with a frustrated growl.
She threw herself backward onto the bed and drew in a deep, soothing breath. Her focus drew away from her trance and she suddenly became aware of her damaged body.
She looked down, wincing at the blood, scratch marks and bruises. She stood, her beaten pussy flaring.
As Brianna walked stiffly toward the bathroom, something deep inside of her spoke a single word. A word spoken in the beginning of her trance.
The young druid girl smiled victoriously as the single word floated to the top of her consciousness and echoed in her mind.
Now, she had a place to start. A clue to go on.
She started the shower, repeating the one word over and over like a chant.
Mariel.
Mariel.
Mariel.