From: skimble@jellicle.demon.co.uk (Richard Bellingham)
Subject: ST: Rite of Passage (1/3) (t/t)
Date: Sun, 19 Apr 1998 07:30:35 GMT
Approved: moderated.stories@bigfoot.com
Well, I haven't had many people replying about the first story I posted,
'Dragon', but what I have had is good. I hope you all enjoy this one
too. It /does/ contain explicit scenes of sex between late-teens.
Have fun!
Stories: Part One of 'Rite Of Passage'
It was a warm summer's night when fifteen year old Dave Wheeler
made his nervous first appearance at a meeting of the Secret
Moonlight Society. By tradition, the meetings always took place at
midnight, and so he came to be approaching the allotted meeting place
at a quarter to twelve.
He stumbled through the quiet wood, flicking his torch-beam from
side to side across the leafmould beneath his feet. He searched for
any hint of the flickering campfire which he knew to be somewhere in
the night. His heart beat swiftly, a clammy sweat oozing from his
palms and slicking the knurled barrel of his torch.
The weight of the heavy torch was comforting in his hand. It was
one of those big American jobs which double up as a club if the
circumstances require it. He started as an owl hooted mournfully off
to his right, and he jerked his torch over in that direction as his
heart and lungs went into overdrive.
He stood silently for a moment, and his stuttering heart finally
eased itself back into its normal rhythm. As the thundering of the
blood in his ears grew quieter, Dave thought he could hear muttered
conversation to his left. Dave sighed in relief and switched his
torch off, straining eyes through the gloom as he waited for them to
adjust to the scant moonlight which filtered down through the dense
foliage.
There, just a few yards away, he could see a faint light
flickering through the wood, between the gnarled and twisted trees.
He smiled lopsidedly, realising that he'd almost found the meeting
place. He switched the torch back on, in order to proceed more
safely through the wood. Before long, he could hear the soft voices
more distinctly, and he could see enough with the light of the fire
to switch his torch off again.
'Halt... Who goes there?' enquired a voice echoingly. Dave gulped,
steeling himself to answer the traditional challenge.
'D..Dave Wheeler.' he answered nervously. There was a small pause,
and then the voice spoke again.
'Speak the password.' the voice instructed sombrely
Dave wrestled with the pronunciation, wondering why in hell the
Society had chosen such a strange word for the password.
'Ou..Ouroboros.' he finally uttered. The voice, which sounded as
though it belonged to an adolescent boy, laughed and spoke again.
'Pass friend, and welcome to the Society.'
Dave muttered in gratitude, and wandered towards the clearing. He
could see the fire burning brightly, and hurried his pace. He
brushed between two ancient and mossy oaks, and finally joined a
Meeting of the Society.
Around the stone-rimmed fire sat six boys of around Dave's own
age, a few of them perhaps a little older. Dave recognised a couple
of the guys from school, including his friend Sam, who'd introduced
him to the Society.
Sam Winters stood up, and waved to Dave. 'Hiya, Dave. Let me
introduce you to the other members of the Society.' Dave nodded,
and smiled to each boy as Sam gestured to him, supplying names to
go with the faces. 'That's John, this is Joe, this here is Rich,
that's Jake, and last but not least, I'd like to introduce Brian.'
Each of the boys nodded and grinned as they were introduced to the
latest member of the Society. 'Everyone, meet Dave.' Sam ended the
introductions, gesturing for Dave to sit on the patch of ground to
his left. John, the eldest of the group spoke in a quiet yet clear
voice. 'I now declare this meeting of the Secret Moonlight Society
open.'
John looked around the circle of attentive boys. 'As Chairman of
the Society, I shall tell the first tale, and then we shall proceed
clockwise around the table as is usual.'
So saying, he plucked a handful of a whitish powder from a small
leather bag which lay at his feet. Wordlessly, he cast the powder
into the fire, causing a bright white flare. In the unnatural light,
strange forms and shadows seemed to caper gleefully in the clearing.
Then, as the fire died back down to normalcy, John began to tell
his tale. He spoke in a solemn voice, his tone carrying well across
the crackling fire. Dave guessed that John was about eighteen, a
tall lad with blond hair and green eyes. As he listened to the adept
speaker, Dave became enthralled by the unfolding story.
'Once, when the world was young and power thrummed yet in nature,
there was a man who wished to live forever. He was a dangerous fool,
and in order to fulfil his desire, he made a pact with the skulking
evil which even now lurks within the shadowy hearts of mortal men.
'He was granted his one unholy desire. Upon his death, this
foolish seeker of immortality rose once more to stain the Earth with
his dark presence. His was the power of Darkness, his strength vast.
And yet he was doomed never to view the pure rays of the cleansing
sun whilst he lived as an undead monster. His immortality was his
blessing and most of all his curse. For the immortality which he had
so craved came at the price of blood. Gallons of mortal blood,
several kills each night, the blood of mere beasts unable to sustain
his unholy flame of life.
'Without the blood, he became unto a walking corpse, his skin
withered and dry like ancient parchment. His eyes sank into the
long-toothed skull, his hands became feeble and twisted claws. Ahh,
truly the blood was the life, and so he cursed his maker for his
dark life. And yet, he was not willing to lose the immortality which
he had given so much for.
'And so, this first Vampire wept tears of blood as he drank from
human vessels in order to maintain his youth and power. He could not
limit the amount of blood he stole from his victims, falling into a
blood frenzy until his victims were entirely drained of their vitae.
Each bloodless corpse rose as did he, a legion of undead which
spread through the globe, a legion of darkness and horror.'
John paused for a moment, his luminous green eyes flickering over
each of the boys. 'What very few people realise,' he continued
menacingly, 'is that Vampires still exist to this very day. In a
small town somewhere in the American Midwest, people began to die in
strange circumstances. Autopsies revealed that the victims had been
almost totally drained of blood. The only clue to their deaths was a
small pair of pinpricks, directly over the jugular vein...
'But my story does not end there. A few days after the burial of
each victim, their tombs were desecrated, opened to the outside
world. The official report drew the logical conclusion... that some
sick person had stolen the corpses for their own personal amusement.
What the official report didn't state was the chilling fact that the
tombs had been broken from the inside!' He hissed this last,
injecting the notion full of menace and horror.
'Before long, the town became deserted, all of the residents
either dead or fled. But by night, the undead population rose from
their places of daylight refuge, spreading the curse of the leech
further and further afield.' He paused again, smiling maliciously.
'For all you know,' he whispered sombrely 'I could be one of
them....'
His story finished, John passed the pouch of powder to Joe.
'W..wow.' Sam breathed uneasily. 'That was some story!' The rest of
the boys muttered their agreement. Joe cleared his throat, preparing
to cast his powder on the fire and begin his tale. Dave found that
he couldn't turn his gaze away from the next storyteller. He'd seen
him at school, and knew that Joe was a year older than himself. This was
the first time he'd really met the guy socially, however, and he
couldn't help but get a guilty erection at the sight of the guy.
He was shirtless, as it was a warm night, and the fire had raised
small beads of sweat on his smooth, tanned, skin. There was hardly
an ounce of fat on him, his muscles prominent and sleek.
Dave found his gaze travelling down Joe's body, his eyes lingering
at the perfectly sculpted abdomen, as he wished that he could caress
the shallow navel with the very tip of his tongue. His gaze
travelled down further still, and he saw a slight bulge in the
crotch of Joe's cutoff jeans. His smoothly tanned legs were muscular
and lithe, tapering down to sockless ankles inside spotless white
trainers, which Dave found incredibly alluring.
He looked up at the perfect body, drinking in Joe's face like a
man dying of thirst. His eyes were soulful and brown, his hair a
wonderful shade of charcoal black. In an extremely appealing
gesture, Joe absently brushed the loose fringe out of his eyes. His
nose was thin and perfectly formed, his teeth white and even. To
Dave's mind, he was fantastically handsome.
Then their eyes met, and a jolt of excitement passed through Dave
as Joe winked and then glanced down at Dave's crotch. He smiled, and
Dave felt his erection throbbing gently. "Nah, who am I trying to
kid?" he thought. "There's no way a good looking guy like him would
be interested in me, even if he was gay." In Dave's opinion, he was
too tall and lanky, too scrawny. He was all arms and legs, a
gangling youth with a mop of blond hair and clear blue eyes. In
actual fact, Dave had a pretty good figure. Not as muscular as Joe,
but not exactly a stick insect either. Joe grinned again, feeling
the same desire for Dave that Dave was feeling for him. But how to
let him know he was interested?
Joe cast his powder onto the crackling fire, and the flash of
white light made his eyes glimmer mischievously, glinting from his
smooth skin and sweaty black hair. Dave found his erection growing
even harder yet as Joe began his tale in a wonderfully smooth tenor.
'Three guys, about the same age as Dave and me went camping once,
in a place very much like this. It wasn't very far from the village
where they all lived, but it was far enough for the whole trip to
seem like an adventure to them. They pitched their tent as dusk fell
on the first day, finishing the erection by the light of the full
moon.
'They played around for a while, and then dined on sausages cooked
over the open fire.' Dave noticed that Joe had a slight Somerset
accent. In fact, he found his voice extremely sexy.... 'Well, after
supper,' Joe continued, 'they finally went to sleep, all of them
snuggled together in one huge sleeping bag.' Dave pictured himself
in a sleeping bag with Joe, and his penis began to ooze gently.
'They were all naked,' Joe went on, 'because they were all very good
friends and they loved to have fun and mess around with each other.
Their hot skin felt good next to each other as they went to sleep.'
Dave looked around the rest of the circle, and notice looks of
distaste from Rich and Brian. He pondered for a moment. All this
stuff about guys messing around? Joe almost /had/ to be gay! Dave's
heart beat rapidly at the thought. Joe caught Dave's looks as he
continued to spin the tale, and winked meaningfully.
'At around two in the morning, the guys were woken by a hideous
howling. Ben slipped his hand onto the large silver crucifix that
his mother always made him wear, muttering a small prayer. His wide
open eyes were already scanning the tent as the other two woke
moments after him, shivering at the terrible howling noise. The
three naked boys huddled together for warmth in the chill of the
night and their fear, as the spine tingling howl ululated through
the crisp night air. "I think it's getting closer!" exclaimed Steve.
biting his bottom lip in fear. They remained huddled closely
together, as whatever made the howling grew closer.....'
'Then, without warning, a growl was heard right outside the tent!'
Joe paused, the tension in his tale as taut as a tightrope. 'The
tent canvas was swiftly rent apart, as a huge brindled wolf lunged
at the three boys! It went straight for Ben, as Steve lost control
of his bladder in fear. Instinctively, Ben raised his arm to protect
himself.
'The wolf's eyes glowed redly in the darkness as its slavering
jaws reached out for the young man. He held his crucifix at arm's
length, in an instinctive show of faith. By a miracle of
coincidence, or perhaps just a miracle, the wolf impaled its eye on
the silver cross. A hideous stench of burning filled the tent, and
a mixture of blood and ichor spattered from the ruined orb. The
massive wolf left the tent at a lurching run, still howling as if in
pain. After a while, all was silent, and the three naked boys
huddled together, sobbing in the urine stained sleeping bag.'
There he was again! Mentioning the nakedness! Dave was sure that
Joe was trying to drop a hint. 'But the worst part of the boys
misadventure was yet to come. As the badly frightened lads walked
home, subdued, the next morning, Ben tripped and fell over an object
which had been concealed by a dip in the path. He turned back to see
what it was that caused his fall, and screamed. It was his mother.
Naked. Dead. And she only had one eye.....'
Everyone congratulated Joe on his story. Dave caught his eye
again, and they traded meaningful winks. The bag of powder was
passed to Rich, and the now familiar burst of light filled the wood.
Rich began his story in a youthful voice, doing his best to sound
like Vincent Price.
'There are many tales concerning the undead. Legends of Zombies,
Vampires, Ghouls and sinister liches are delightfully creepy, making
us shudder at the cold horror of them.' He paused, licking his
lips briefly before continuing in a voice which was full of menace
and barely discernible over the crackling of the fire. 'But there
are other types of undead, some of which are even more dangerous
than the dreaded Vampire....
'Many years ago, when the Egyptian Valley of the Kings had barely
been raped by the greedy archaeologists, and the ancient mummies
were as yet slumbering in their stately tombs, an ambitious
Egyptologist was abroad in the desert like a wandering dervish. His
name was Al Khassim, and a greater cur and despot never lived. He
treated his assistants as little more than slaves, continuing to work
for him only out of fear. His burning ambition meant that no
desecration was too unholy in his quest for a legendary hidden tomb.
'The existence of this wondrous monument to a dead Pharaoh had
been described in ancient legend, and this most unscrupulous of
Egyptologists had decided that the honour of its discovery must be
his, no matter how many people had to die if they got in his way. He
felt that he was growing ever closer to the object of his feverish
search. One sun scorched day, he had his assistants dig once more in
the location he was sure of in his heart. After his men had been
digging for a number of hours, his black heart was quickened by the
dull sheen of sand pitted electrum. "Faster, you lazy curs!" he
instructed his toiling diggers, mopping his feverishly excited brow
with a red silk kerchief.
'The uncovered patch of electrum soon expanded, and to the
excitement of Khassim, revealed to be the capstone of a massive
pyramid. Khassim had found his target at last.
'Time passed. Several days later, a pathway had been excavated
through the golden sand. The sealed entryway to the monument had
finally been exposed at the bottom of the pit-like dig. A ladder led
down to the huge stone doors, flanked on either side by the huge
sand piles which had been concealing the pitted and scarred
pyramid.' Rich paused for effect, allowing the image of the
monstrous stone monument to linger in their young imaginations.
'Khassim sent his assistants away, unwilling to share the glory of
"his" discovery with anyone else. He descended to the bottom of the
excavated valley, as the desert wind puffed fine sand and grit into
his bushy black eyebrows. His eyes glinted with pride and joy, as
the fruit of several murders and incalculable bribes fell at last
into his outstretched hands. His trembling fingers touched the
hieroglyphs on the portal, stone carvings which had endured the
millennia.' With a sudden rush of flame, Rich cast a second pinch of
the powder onto the fire. He shouted: 'Pain! Incredible pain!
Searing pain shooting through the outstretched fingers which touched
the hieroglyphics.'
Everyone in the Society jumped as the fire seared white, and Rich
continued smoothly with his story. 'Khassim was flung backwards in a
burst of crackling energy which exploded from the seal, and before
his half blinded eyes he could see an afterimage of the fiery
sigils. It was a curse, a warning, offering a hideous fate for any
fool who should happen to break the seal and desecrate the tomb. As
his vision cleared, Khassim dusted himself off. "Curse, my foot...."
he growled, grabbing an axe as sparks shone from his eyes. With a
muttered curse of his own, he swung the axe at the seal. With a
sound like that of rolling thunder, the seal broke cleanly into two
halves, and the door which led deep into the crypt swung slowly
inwards.
'With an oil lamp for his scant illumination, Khassim ventured
further into the cool, dry tomb. His avaricious dreams were more
than met by the fabulous panoply of priceless treasures, some of
which Khassim would have killed for alone. His joy was only
partially overshadowed by the presence of continued curses against
desecrators.' Rich wet his lips with a can of Coke, leaving them
glistening in the firelight as he continued with his tale of grave
robbery. 'A few moments after he had entered the third chamber of
the tomb, his lantern was snuffed by an unfelt breeze.
'Khassim paused in the airless darkness, attempting to re-light his
lantern. "Gas!" he thought to himself, thinking of the dung-traps
which were used to produce deadly carbon dioxide traps in
some pyramids. But no, he could breath perfectly well, he just
couldn't light the lantern. Even worse, each match he lit did not
dissipate the gloom by the tiniest amount. Khassim's heart started
to clench in fear. He frantically tried once more to light the lamp,
but soon realised the futility of his actions. Angrily, he hurled
the lamp away.
'Nothing.'
He paused for a moment. 'Nothing, when there should have been the
sound of a glass and iron lamp shattering into pieces against an
impenetrable stone wall! The Egyptologist felt a cold shiver of fear
run down his spine as a pair of orbs glowed green in the
preternatural darkness. He felt his bladder relax and felt the warm
stream of urine as it flowed down his leg. A hissing sound
sussurated in the pitch-blackness. "Dooooooooooooomed...." The voice
came echoing in the dark and formless void in which Khassim found
himself trapped. With a faint gibbering sound, Khassim realised that
something frightful was moving towards him like a dark and
unstoppable train. He caught a glimpse of those green glowing eyes,
and felt the slashing of ancient claws as the dust of eternity
drifted onto his half-open lips. He felt himself sinking into the
dark black waters of death...
'A huge desert storm erupted that night, completely burying the
pyramid. Although a thorough search was made, neither Khassim nor
the pyramid were ever seen again....'
The society murmured its appreciation of the story, as the powder
was passed on to Jake. Jake was about fourteen, at Dave's guess, a
slight youth with fine blond hair and blue-green eyes. He would have
been more attractive, thought Dave, if he wasn't permanently
frowning.
The fire flared once more, and Jake began his tale in a high
adolescent voice. 'There have been tales of strange creatures in the
world's seas for many years. Giant serpents which undulate beneath
the waves, cruising under the cold oceans. During the second world
war, our valiant submarines fought a clandestine war against German
U-boats and shipping in the Atlantic and Pacific. It was a dangerous
job, and the submariners were some of the most respected and medal
endowed members of the Royal Navy.
'The Royal Naval submarine HMS Narwhal was on patrol during the
winter of 1943. The Atlantic was bitterly cold due to frosty winds
blowing from the icecaps, and when it surfaced, icicles formed on
the subs' topsides. One morning, the atmosphere was tense as HMS
Narwhal tracked a German E-boat, running silently beneath the icy
seas. They'd been tracking the enemy vessel for most of the night,
when the unexpected happened.
'Depth charges descended through the water and found their target.
Somehow, the E-boat had become aware of HMS Narwhal, and now
tortured shouts and screams filled the cylindrical steel coffin.
Water rushed in to fill the breached bulkheads, and the submarine
began to descend to the distant bottom, as the water pressure slowly
increased around the vessel, caressing the steel at the same time as
crushing it. The emergency ballast was released in a frantic attempt
to surface, but this was to no avail. Resigned to their fate, the
shocked submariners prayed silently for their souls as the sound of
tortured metal shrieked in their ears.
'But then... there was a loud thud against the bottom of the
vessel, jarring the crew off their feet. There was a faint grinding
noise, but the popping and shrieking quieted and finally stopped.
"Sir!" exclaimed the crewman who monitored the depth gauge. "We're
rising!" The crew was jubilant as the submarine reached the surface.
The emergency pumps set to work and before long the sub was buoyant
again. The Captain rushed to the conning tower, eager to see what
had been the instrument of their salvation.
'He gasped at what he saw. Between his vessel and the E-boat were
four huge and mossy humps, which undulated towards the enemy vessel.
At the front he could see a towering leviathan of a creature, a huge
serpent with massive teeth and glittering eyes. It fell at last upon
the German vessel, and both boat and monster disappeared into the
sea, with a mere sprinkling of flotsam to reveal it was ever there.
The Captain smiled, and went below deck to supervise the repairs.'
Jake smiled, and took a sip of Coke. Appreciative murmurs were
heard around the circle, and then Jake passed the sack of powder on
to Sam. Dave glanced at Joe, and found him staring in his direction.
Noticing he'd got Dave's attention, Joe slowly ran a hand over his
naked torso, cupping his nipples and licking his lips suggestively.
Dave grinned and winked. Sam leaned forward, and cast the powder on
the fire, and as the flare died he began his tale.
'Hallowe'en is supposedly the time of year when ghouls,
ghosts and such are abroad. We treat it as a joke, but it has its
origin in the mists of time and should be treated far more
seriously....
'Jim and Nige were friends. They were as different as chalk and
cheese, yet somehow they managed to build a lasting friendship. Jim
was the daring, devil-may-care type, always taking risks and living
life to the full. Nige was far more sober, a quiet and bookish lad
who thought twice or even three times before taking any action. A
strange friendship, and yet it worked well. Perhaps Nige's sensible
nature offset Jim's daredevil one, and their friendship hovered
somewhere between the two.
'As in most towns, there was a large old house in Nige and Jim's
hometown, which was reputed to be haunted. Of course it was an
irresistible kid-magnet, a place of uncounted passage-rites. But
nobody dared to go there on Hallowe'en.. Except Jim.
Of course Nige was against the idea right from the start. "But
Jim!" he whined plaintively. "It could be dangerous!" Jim would have
none of it, and eventually he got Nige to agree through wheedling,
begging, ridiculing, and appealing to his admittedly small sense of
adventure. Reluctantly he agreed to spend Hallowe'en night
in the haunted house, and Jim was overjoyed. "Ya won't
regret it pal!" he assured the nervous boy. Nige sighed. "I
sure hope not..."
'Although he'd agreed to the venture, Nige was determined to
garner a little information about the ghost-ridden place before he
set foot in it. He went to the library on the 29th of October in an
attempt to find out something about the alleged haunting. The
results of his search made interesting reading. It turned out that
the old wooden building had once belonged to a wealthy and solitary
lady. The rumour was that she was a witch, using her supernatural
powers to blight the lives of those who crossed her. Well, these
rumours found the ears of the Witch Finder General. She was beaten,
tortured, and interrogated, and finally burned to death at a stake
in her own front garden. The legend stated that she walked from the
fire as her flesh charred and her eyes ran like tallow down her
cheeks and embraced the terrified witchfinder, carrying him with her
to the grave. The ghosts supposedly haunting the house were
supposedly those of the old woman and the Witchfinder.
'Hallowe'en night, the two boys told their parents that they were
going trick or treating, and as their hearts beat excitedly, they
walked slowly to the house. It was very old, the weathered timbers
looking weak, every pane of glass long gone. They entered the old,
ivy-covered dwelling through a bay window, and treading carefully on
the weak floor wandered around the ground floor. It was bare but
quite grandiose, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, and a
hint of fine decoration on the mildewed walls. Everything was
festooned with cobwebs, and the dust lay inches thick on the floor.
Nige's research had revealed that woman had been interrogated in the
library, so this was the room in which they decided to wait.
'They sat on a sheet they had brought with them, to avoid getting
the dust on their clothing, and they settled down to wait. Before
long, they began to feel restless, uncomfortable on the hard wooden
floor, impatient for something to happen. Distantly, they could hear
the town clock striking twelve.
'Suddenly the temperature of the room seemed to drop. The two boys
shivered, huddling close together to share body warmth.' Dave felt a
faint throbbing in his underwear at that thought. He winked at Joe,
who smiled winningly. "I must be /really/ horny tonight..." thought
Dave. 'Then, a frosty white light seem to fill the room, shimmering
like a reflection on the surface of a lake.'
'As the two boys shivered in their fear, the spectral shimmering
began to solidify into a translucent image. Before long it was
discernible as a woman sitting in an old fashioned wooden chair, her
hands bound. She had a fine and intelligent face, her eyes
glimmering with that intelligence. Her ghostly form was limned with
a pale blue light as the boys watched fearfully. A ghostly trickle
of blood ran in a rivulet down the woman's cheek, and her right eye
had been blackened, and still she appeared defiant and aloof.
'Both of the boys jumped as another ghost entered the opulent
library, slamming the ghostly door behind him. The second spectre
was a tall, stooped man with hawkish features and malevolent eyes.
His spirit seemed outlined in blood red. His long coat flapped with
the speed of his long strides as he walked over to the restrained
woman. His mouth opened, and his voice could be heard like a
faint breeze. "So witch, are you ready to confess to your foul
deeds?" The woman gazed at him defiantly, spitting in his face. She
too spoke, and her words were stronger. "The only crimes that I have
committed are the healing of the sick, the helping of the
despairing, and the service of God, pathetic little man."
The male spectre growled and slapped the aristocratic woman on the
cheek, snapping her head violently to the side. She glared defiantly
at him, the evidence of her previous beatings apparent on her face.
Jim, watching intently, noticed that Nige, the normally
unadventurous boy, was muttering "This shouldn't have happened, it
isn't right!" under his breath, and clenching his fists. Steeling
his courage, Nige began to walk over to the ghosts.
'"We shall see how defiant you are when you burn at the stake,
witch-woman." Nige was approaching them now, as Jim desperately
tried to call him back. Nige's face contorted, and he screamed
"Leave her alone!" The world shifted.
'All of a sudden, the two spectres became solid, the room
returning at once to its former glory. The Witchfinder looked aghast
at the sudden appearance of the boy. The witch merely smiled
knowingly. "What Satanic trickery be this?" exclaimed the horrified
Witchfinder, backing away from Nige. Jim had passed unconscious in
fright, and so was blissfully unaware at what was going on. Nige
continued to advance on the Witchfinder, his eyes blazing anger and
hatred. Nervous, the much older man backed away. With a 'Zzzzzzing!'
he drew a sword from the handle of his cane, waving it nervously at
Nige. Nige halted, and raised his hands palms outward to the
Witchfinder. "Begone to where you belong!" he called, in a voice
that was not entirely his own.
'With a gesture, Nige caused a hole to open beneath the feet of
the Witchfinder General, who sank downwards into the stench of
brimstone with a hideous scream. Nige gestured again, and the hole
closed. He gestured a final time and the witches bonds fell away,
her wounds healed. She stood, touching the young boys' shoulder, her
eyes full of love and twinkling merrily. "You have done well, my
great, great, great Grandson." And with that, she vanished.
'A few days later, Nige went back to the library. Somehow the book
had been changed. The supposed witch managed to escape, and the
Witchfinder vanished without trace. The witch became a great healer,
her memory much revered. And the haunted house was derelict no
longer. Instead, Nige found himself living there with his family,
and it was as it always used to be. The only explanation they
could think of was that the potent Hallows magic had hurled him
back in time to confront the Witchfinder with his latent witchcraft.
And only he and Jim could remember the world as it was before that
fateful Hallowe'en night....'
As they congratulated Sam, he wordlessly passed the pouch on to
Dave. Dave gulped. What was he going to come up with to follow the
others? Should he include a gay theme? The others were waiting
patiently, but he had to begin soon.... Whoomf! The fire erupted,
and Dave began his tale.
'Um, in a small town something like this, there was once a
mysterious rash of disappearances.' he thought frantically for a
moment, almost enjoying the challenge. 'All those who went missing
were cute looking young boys.' At that, Joe grinned at Dave, and
licked his lips raunchily. 'The cops had no leads, no bodies, and
the case seemed insoluble. Fifteen year old Carl was disconsolate
when his fourteen-year-old brother Mark went missing. They were as
close as brothers get, often showing affection and love for each
other in public which other boys would have been too embarrassed to.
Through his bitter tears he vowed to find Mark, and the person
abducting young men in his area.
'His search began the very day after Mark was taken from him.
There were no obvious clues. and before long Carl was depressed by
his lack of results. He sat on a bench in the park and began to cry,
memories of his brother overwhelm him. He sat crying for a while,
and was suddenly startled by a hand touching him on the shoulder.
Gasping, he turned to see whom the hand belonged to. Perhaps Mark..
But he was disappointed. It was an elderly man touching him, one of
the town's many tramps from the looks of him.
"What's the matter, boy?" he asked, in a kindly voice. There was
something familiar in the old face, and in the tired voice. "Do I
know you, sir?" asked Carl. The man sighed and shrugged.
"I dunno." he replied. "I lost my memory somehow... First thing I
remember is waking up on that bench over there..." Carl frowned.
There was definitely something familiar about this guy... Where had
he seen him? "And you can't remember a single thing before that?"
he asked bemusedly. "No, not a thing." sighed the tramp. Carl felt a
voice nagging in the depths of his mind. He felt sure he knew this
guy. The tramp yawned, stretching his arms, and Carl got a good look
inside his mouth as he did so. He gasped, and lifted his hand to his
face in shock. In his mouth was a chipped tooth... chipped in
exactly the same place as Mark had chipped his a mere day or so ago.
The flare of recognition came again, and this time, Carl recognised
the young boy hiding beneath the facial structure of an old man...
It was Mark!
Dave paused for a moment, licking his lips. He was thoroughly
absorbed in his tale now. '"My God!" cried Carl, recoiling from
Mark. "What the fuck happened to you?" The old man who was still his
brother looked dismayed. "I already told you, I don't know!" Carl
gasped, almost hyperventilating in his shock. "But you're my
brother! And you're supposed to be fourteen years old!" Mark shook
his head, looking at the kid oddly. "You're crazy, kid. How could
that be true?" Carl shook his head, tears spilling from his eyes.
"I don't know... But I aim to find out."
'Carl took Mark, who protested all the while, to a place deep in
the woods, where he hoped to spark a memory in the man of the boy
he'd once been. "Don't you remember anything? Nothing at all?" Mark
shook his head, sighing. "No, I can't remember a single thing." Carl
racked his brain. This was a little different than a disappearance..
someone had aged his brother. But how could they do that? And who
could do that? He desperately tried to think. Where had Mark been
the day before he disappeared? With a flash, it came to him. Mark
had been to the new doctor's for a physical check-up... and he'd
vanished the next day. "That could be it!" he cried jubilantly.
'"Mum, I don't feel too brilliant." Carl said, sitting at the
kitchen table with an untouched dinner before him. "Could you please
book me an appointment with the doctor for a check-up?" His mother
looked concerned, and nodded. "Ok, Carl. I'll get you booked in for
as soon as I can."
'The doctor's surgery was a sterile place smelling faintly of pine
disinfectant. Carl reported to the receptionist, fear making his
stomach clench painfully. He really didn't feel too well at this
moment... The receptionist greeted him kindly, giving him a plastic
card with a number on it. "Just take a seat and wait your turn." she
advised. Carl nodded, muttering a brief thanks before going into the
open plan waiting area. There were a couple of other people before
him, both of them elderly, and coughing in deep hacking spasms.
After a wait of about ten minutes, it was his turn to go into the
doctor's office. He slotted his card into the hole which went back
to the reception, and wandered along the plushly carpeted corridor
to the office.
'He knocked, and a young voice called for him to come in. He
pushed open the door, and entered the starkly modern office. The
young bespectacled doctor looked up and grinned. "Do take a seat."
Carl did so, his gaze drawn to the doctor's eyes. They seemed old...
Much older than he looked. On the desk was an apothecary bottle of a
greenish transparent fluid. "So what appears to be the matter?" the
doctor grinned predatorily, it seemed. Carl made up some hokum
about headaches and nausea. The doctor nodded, that strange grin
again on his face. "Well, I just need to take a blood test..."
'The doctor unwrapped a sterile syringe, and swabbed Carl's arm.
Something was wrong... You didn't take a blood test when someone had
a cold....
The doctor jabbed the sharp needle into Carl's arm, and then began
to pull back the plunger. Carl gasped in shock. The stuff coming out
of his arm was the same green as the stuff in the bottle. This was
it! He was somehow extracting his youth!
'Carl pulled away from the syringe, surprising the doctor, and
spurting a fine spray of blood as the needle was withdrawn. Somehow,
he was filled with strength, and he turned the syringe on the
doctor. A white light filled the room as the syringe filled with
concentrated green youth. The doctor aged before his eyes, becoming
a truly ancient man, and finally disappearing into dust. Carl
grabbed a load of sterile syringes, took the apothecary bottle, and
then ran swiftly out of the back door before he could be stopped.
'He injected himself with a tiny amount of the youth, replacing
that which the evil doctor had stolen. He found the elderly Mark,
and gave him a full syringe full. Before his very eyes, he became
younger, eventually back to his fourteen year old self... and naked.
The large clothes he'd been wearing fell away as he turned back, and
he threw them away in disgust, hugging his brother tightly.
'They injected the other vagrants who'd suddenly appeared. There
was just enough of the youth to return each of them to their true
age. The parents of the missing children hailed it as a miracle when
their kids were returned to them... And perhaps it was.. the miracle
of one boy's overwhelming love for his brother.'
Dave smiled, rather pleased with his story. The Society gave him a
round of applause, and John smiled. 'Not bad for a first story.' Dave
grinned at Joe, feeling his erection returning as he gazed on the
slick perfection of his body. feeling somewhat dazed, he passed the
bag on to Brian, not noticing the look of hatred which he gave him
as he did so.
Brian cast the powder on the fire, and the light made him look
cruel, frowning as he began his tale. 'There were a couple of queer
bastards once who lived in a town a bit like this.' Dave winced,
sensing that Joe was also uncomfortable with it. 'They were real
perverts, having sex whenever they could, in all sorts of perverse
ways. They were about the same age as Joe and Dave, and they did it
all in secret so they didn't get caught for underage sex.' Dave
didn't like the way this tale was going.
'Well, one of their favourite places to carry out their perverse
sex acts without being caught was this old house. Nobody ever went
there, it was one of those places that's supposed to be haunted.
Well, they were out trick or treating one Hallowe'en night, and they
got horny. They went to the old house, all the time stroking one
another through their trousers, as they talked about the filthy
things they were going to do.
'They arrived at the house, and they went up to the old bedroom,
taking all their clothes off to lie on the sleeping bags they'd
brought previously. They were right into the sex, grunting like
animals, when something caught one of their ears. The younger one
stopped his bestial fucking of the older, and said: "Did you hear
that?" The older one replied that he'd heard nothing. "Just fuck
me!" he said.
'What neither of them knew was that something malevolent was
waiting for them in the old house on that night... The young one,
his cock buried deep in the arse of the older one, was about to cum.
Suddenly, the rutting queers were bathed in a red light, and his
penis suddenly wilted to a limp thing. "I heard something!" he
whispered, his heart beating quickly. Just then, the older one heard
him gasp and scream, as a massive black talon came through his
chest, blood exploding in gouts of red gore. He screamed too, as the
head of his perverse lover was struck from his body, flying through
the air to leave a full stop of blood on the floor as his body
collapsed to lie next to it. "Jesus!" screamed the doomed queer, and
then everything went black....'
Dave shuddered. Was this guy a homophobe or what? He was worried
by the fact that he'd said the guys in the story were about the same
age as he and Joe. Did he suspect? Did he know that Joe was gay? He
shivered, and noticed that Joe was also looking uneasy. There was an
embarrassed silence for a few moments, then John cleared his throat
as Brian passed him the bag. 'Um, I think that story wasn't what we
like to hear, Brian. I've warned you about this in the past....'
Brian screwed up his face, and launched himself to his feet. 'Jesus!
But you let queers into the Society!' He glared at Joe for a moment
before stalking off. 'As chairman, I declare that Brian Kennedy is
no longer a member of this society.' The others all nodded, and Dave
felt relieved. John put the small sack of powder into his rucksack,
and then declared the meeting of the Moonlight Society closed. The
fire was snuffed with a bottle of water he'd brought with him, and
the members dispersed, talking about the stories as they wandered
through the wood. Dave lingered, and so did Joe. Soon, they were the
only ones left in the clearing.
'So, where abouts do you live?' asked Joe, breaking the silence.
'On Gilmore street.' Dave replied nervously. Joe grinned, his face
lighting up. 'Cool, I live about five minutes walk from you.'
He smiled again, stroking his chest absently. 'In fact, you're on my
way home. Wanna walk home together?' He stood up, brushing dirt from
the seat of his cutoffs. Dave smiled, unable to believe his luck.
'Yeah, that'd be great!'
The two boys began to walk through the wood, Joe still shirtless.
Dave found himself admiring Joe's torso as he walked close beside
him, loving the look of the muscles rippling beneath the tight skin.
Joe noticed the looks, and grinned. Dave suddenly felt embarrassed,
and looked away. 'No need to be embarrassed.' assured Joe. 'I like
you too... Look, why don't you take off your shirt too, you must be
really hot.' Dave grinned, his erection raging, and slipped his
cotton tee-shirt off over his head. 'That's better.' grinned Joe.
Dave agreed, loving the feel of the cool night air on his slick
skin. They could see well enough by the light of the moon, and the
pale silver light accentuated each muscle on their torsos. Dave
glanced down at Joe's crotch, and noticed a distinct bulge in the
fabric of his denim cutoffs.
'Hmm.' mused Joe. 'I'm still too hot.' Saying this, he undid the
button on his cutoffs, slid down the zip, and stepped out of them.
Dave couldn't believe his eyes. Now Joe was dressed only in a sexy
pair of boxer shorts. He grinned, nonchalantly slinging his shorts
over his shoulder and walking on with them making a dark patch on
his moonlight-paled skin. Joe mock-sighed, shaking his head, as Dave
admired the taut buttocks revealed by the fabric of his boxers.
'It's no use, I'm still way too hot....' And with this, he slid the
boxers down and off. His penis sprang forth as they slid down his
legs, and Dave found his heart pounding as he admired the naked Joe,
whose trainers looked even more sexy against the nudity. Joe smiled,
and put his hands on his hips. His penis was around eight inches
long, Dave guessed, larger than his own six inches. The foreskin
almost completely covered the wide penis, only a small patch of pink
glans visible beneath the fold of skin. His testicles were large and
heavy, hanging low in the slightly hairy scrotum which Dave longed
to feel in his mouth. A dark vee of pubic hair surrounded the base
of his penis, the only hair on his wonderfully smooth body apart
from that in his armpits. Joe noticed the appreciative glances.
'That's much better.' he sighed, moving his hand to languidly hold
his hard penis. 'Why don't you join me?' he asked. Dave grinned,
rapidly stripping off the rest of his clothes. 'I thought you'd
never ask.' Dave was thinner than Joe, and less well muscled, but
there was a breathtaking beauty there nonetheless. His penis, while
not as large as Joe's was perfectly formed, the foreskin teasingly
revealing a glimpse of his head.
His testicles were a little smaller than Joe's, but eminently
suckable. A small amount of fine pubic hair clustered around his
penis, and his body was smoothly perfect. The dark ovals of his
nipples stood out in contrast to his pale skin, and Joe felt an urge
to take them in his mouth. So he did.
Dave felt intense pleasure as Joe bent down to take the nipple in
his hot mouth. Gently, he nipped at the bud with his teeth,
thrilling Dave in a mixture of pleasure and ecstatic pain. He
circled the round teat with his tongue, tasting the sweat and
masculinity which had collected on Dave's skin. Dave held his head,
guiding it over to the other nipple, which he spent time
pleasuring. Dave sighed in the pleasure of it as the woodland breeze
caressed his skin, and Joe looked up. 'Nice?' he asked. Dave just
nodded, overwhelmed by his feelings for his lover. Joe leaned
forwards, and Dave felt the pressure of another mouth on his own,
the tongue probing at the crack of his lips. He surrendered, parting
his lips for the delicious invader, allowing Joe to take his mouth,
tasting the warm chocolate of the young mouth, feeling saliva flow
and mingle between them as they shared each other's air. Dave ran
his hands up and down Joe's back and sides, thrilling to the feel of
the taut flesh beneath his trembling fingers. He found Joe's
buttocks, holding and squeezing them as the lover's kiss seemed to
stretch on into eternity.
They broke the kiss, and they stared into each other's starstruck
eyes. Their hands began an intimate exploration of each other's
body, no part remaining secret or undiscovered. Joe found Dave's
body with his tongue, roaming over the warm landscape of his flesh,
tasting and scenting the things that made Dave what he was. He
scooped out the shallow navel with his tongue, rimming it with the
very tip as he knelt before Dave. 'Lower!' he gasped, guiding Joe's
head down as his penis oozed with slick precum. Joe grinned, and
took the very tip of Dave's penis into his warm cavern of a mouth.
Dave couldn't believe the sensations, the first time anyone other
than himself had touched his most private organ. Joe sucked softly
on the foreskin, before sliding his tongue between the skin and the
delicate glans. Dave shuddered, rising to his toes as Joe held the
tip of his penis in his mouth and stroked his thighs. Joe could feel
the tensing of Dave's muscles as he shivered uncontrollably in
ecstasy. Joe teasingly withdrew from the penis, and lowered his
mouth to Dave's testicles. He licked the smooth scrotum, feeling the
balls quiver as they were pleasured. He took them into his mouth one
at a time, rolling them around his tongue and soaking them in warm
saliva. He returned to the slightly throbbing penis, holding and
squeezing the base as he took the head once more into his mouth.
Dave groaned, his breathing becoming faster as he neared the brink.
Joe slid the whole of his breathtakingly beautiful penis into his
thirsting mouth, feeling the warm head nudge the very back of his
throat.
Dave felt himself losing it, knew he wouldn't be able to hold the
orgasm back for much longer. The feeling of his penis sliding in and
out of Joe's mouth was incredibly sensuous and amazingly
pleasurable. Then Joe began to squeeze the base between his fingers
and slide them up and down a little, at the same time as sucking and
tonguing the beautiful penis. Dave arched his back, stabbing his penis
even further back into Joe's throat, and finally releasing
spurt after spurt of pearly semen into the waiting gullet. Joe
swallowed every drop, feeling the semen sear into his stomach. He
slipped the still-hard penis from his mouth, kissing the tip and
then wiping it against his eyelids and smooth shaven cheeks. His own
penis throbbed with desire, precum oozing from the urethra as he
kissed Dave again, stroking his back and sides. 'Jesus that was
good!' moaned Dave. Joe smiled. 'Good.' he replied. He reached down
with a finger, penetrating Dave's tight anus. Dave gasped, arching
his back as his penis came again to full mast.
Joe smiled. 'May I?' he asked, pointing to his jutting erection with
his other finger while Dave squirmed on the pleasure of being
invaded. Dave nodded, but then said; 'Only with a condom..' Joe
nodded, and grinned. 'I brought one because I knew you were going to
be here...' Dave was stunned... Joe had been interested in him
before this evening?
Joe withdrew his finger, and asked Dave to kneel on the soft
leafmould. He fetched his shorts, fishing a small silver packet from
the pocket. He also had a tiny tube of lubricant. He quickly rolled
the condom on, and smeared half of the KY on his rubberclad shaft.
He felt his balls aching painfully as he prepared Dave. Kneeling
behind him, he smeared the rest of the KY on and around his anus. He
slid a finger in as Dave gasped, penetrating easily. He added a
second finger, making Dave gasp again. 'Is that OK?' he asked. Dave
moaned. 'Oh that feels goooood!' he replied. Joe grinned, and added
a third finger, stretching the muscles around Dave's anus to prepare
the way for his invasion. After the addition of a fourth finger and
no complaints from Dave, Joe decided that Dave was ready. He took
the fingers out, and Dave moaned again... 'Take me! I want you in
me!' Joe prepared to acknowledge Dave's request, kneeling close
behind him and touching the very tip of his sheathed and lubricated
penis to the puckered opening. Dave sighed as Joe's penis began to
enter him, and Joe gasped. Dave seemed to clasp at his organ as it
entered, clenching his muscles around the smooth invader. Joe slid
it in further, and now Dave felt the tip probing deep inside him,
stimulating his prostate gland and raising him to ecstasy. Losing
control, Joe slammed the rest of himself into Dave, causing a slight
moan of utter pleasure. He began to thrust and pump, feeling Dave's
tight passageway surrounding him utterly as an owl haunted
mournfully in the distance. The leaves rustled beneath them as he
took Dave harder and harder, reaching in front of him to hold and
stroke his penis. 'Yes!' sighed Dave, totally absorbed in the
feeling of Joe's penis sliding to and fro deep within his secret
depths, near another orgasm. With a sudden moan, Joe shuddered,
ramming his penis in as deep as he could, the condom filling with
bursts and spurts of semen at the same time as Dave spent his load
into the carpet of leaves. They collapsed together, Joe's spent
penis still deep within Dave. 'Don't take it out.' he sighed. 'I
like you in me.
Joe nuzzled the back of Dave's neck, smelling the scent of his
boyish masculinity, and never wanting to be apart from this
wonderful lover again. As they rested in a dreamy half snooze, both
Joe and Dave realised that they had fallen deeply in love.
Deep in the trees, a shadowy figure watched the comsumnation of
their love, and his eyes burned with a hatred which seemed to sear
the very night...
--
Richard Bellingham.
--
'Remember the truth that once was spoken:
To love another person is to see the face of God!'
-Les Miserables
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