Chai
Strawbby Shortcake™
- Joined
- Aug 24, 2017
- Location
- United States
spirit board __ ● ● ● ● ● ● a roleplay by Chai & Father Figure W A R N I N G : contains nsfw images ! |
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spirit board __ ● ● ● ● ● ● a roleplay by Chai & Father Figure W A R N I N G : contains nsfw images ! |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● Laughter echoed through a largely bare living room, soon followed by the popping of uncorked liquor bottles. Ellie adjusted herself from her spot on the floor, wedged between the couch behind her and the coffee table in front, and then leaned over to push her shot glass towards the center. "Another one, Ellie?!" Her best friend Kaitlyn feigned surprise but poured the soju anyway, filling the glass to the top. "If you don't slow down, we'll have to end the night early. And then who are we gonna celebrate after we put you to bed?" "Still me, obviously. To finishing school and getting my dream job," Ellie raised a toast to herself, grinning as she snatched the glass away and downed the sugary alcohol. Kaitlyn was right—drinking was never something she could keep up with, evidenced by the sheen in her brown eyes and the warm, pink flush across her cheeks that contrasted with her dark hair. Still, she was happy to be surrounded by friends, and a few extra shots wouldn't completely ruin her. There were five of them total—Kaitlyn and her boyfriend Josh, Lexi, Michael, and Ellie herself—friends who had met in college and stayed together as they moved from adolescence into adulthood. And here they were years later, celebrating her as the last of their group to graduate and venture into her own journey beyond late night study sessions and cramming for final exams. Her diploma now hung proudly in her combination office and art studio: 'Elizabeth Hana Kim, Bachelor of Arts in Art History' was displayed above her desk, sleek and shiny underneath a delicate glass case. They'd spent the Saturday afternoon helping her move into a quaint, newly renovated townhouse, lugging around furniture and boxes at the promise of free food and alcohol. Her new home was only a short drive to the museum she would soon be working at as an archivist, but quite the distance from her parents' home and college apartment. All of them had been traveling between the three places, packing what they could into their cars and hauling it back and forth across the city. Miraculously they'd managed to finish it all, and now at 11pm they lay strewn across the living room couches and floor, decently buzzed and enjoying themselves after a long day. Muted footsteps padded against the hardwood floors, growing louder until Michael sunk into one of the couches after having returned from the kitchen with a beer in hand. "Thanks again for this, Ellie. What are your plans for the weekend now that we've moved all your shit?" "Well I don't start at the museum for another week, and thanks to you guys I barely have anything left to pick up from my parents' place. I guess furniture shopping?" The young woman laughed, leaning her head back and letting her long hair spill onto the cushion behind her. "And donating all that stuff over there." She nodded toward a couple open boxes pushed to the far corner of the room, the contents within covered in a thick layer of dust. It clearly wasn't something Ellie had brought with her. "What is it?" Asked Lexi, nosy as ever as she got up to inspect the strange goods. "Stuff left by the owner. She told me she inherited the house from her mom, and I guess this was forgotten in the crawl space when she turned the attic into an extra room. Katie and Josh found it earlier. I texted the landlady and she said I could get rid of it myself or wait until she gets back next week." "Look in that second one, Lex." Josh snickered and pointed to the box in the back. "You'll love it." Lexi peered in and gasped, pulling out a board and then rummaging through the junk once more in search of something else. After a moment she found it, lifting both pieces up to show the group. "Let's play," she exclaimed, an almost childlike smile on her face as she held up the Ouija board and the matching planchette. She didn't wait for a response, instead walking back and moving various bottles out of the way to place the board on top of the coffee table. Ellie gave Lexi a look, her gaze switching between the board and her friend, before rolling her eyes and sighing in resignation. "Okay, fine. But if something happens, you're paying for the rest of my lease." "Great." Lexi flashed her a toothy grin before pushing the Ouija board to the center of the table as the five of them gathered around. "Some rules first: we start this thing"—she held up the planchette—"on goodbye and end on goodbye. I'm going to open the game, and don't take your fingers off until I end the game, yeah?" "You're taking it so seriously," Kaitlyn teased. "Would you rather I didn't?" Lexi raised on eyebrow, and no one answered. "That's what I thought. Now if you all could..." She waited until each of them had one finger on the board before opening the session. "Hello. If there are any spirits here, we ask them to come forth now," she started, looking up and letting her eyes skim each of her friends. "Is there someone with us?" The wooden piece was still. "If anyone is here, move the planchette." Nothing. "Worst game ever," Michael muttered under his breath, making a round of nervous laughter go around the table. Lexi just rolled her eyes and continued. "Okay... are there any spirits here that would like to communicate at all?" Ellie frowned, staring down at the heart-shaped wooden piece with a glass lens in the center. Then, to the surprise of the five people present, the planchette began to move across the board. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● In the vast expanse of twilight, there existed a void - neither living nor dead, an endless stretch of nothingness where time and space dissolved into one another. Within this oblivion, the spirit floated, a formless presence with no consciousness of itself, no memories to anchor it to what it once was or where it came from. It was a thing of shadows, a lingering fragment of something long forgotten, drifting aimlessly absent of purpose, or thought. There was no sentience that it could point to as self but rather a collection of fragmented sensations: whispers of emotion, broken echoes of despair, and fleeting impressions of life that had once been. It existed in a state of suspended unawareness, untouched by the passage of time, indifferent to the world that lay beyond. There was no hunger, no pain, no desire; only the perpetual drift through an endless night, where nothing stirred, and nothing called. But then, a flicker of light, faint and distant, appeared in the spirit's periphery. It was a pinprick of illumination, a fragile pulse that cut through the nothingness, pulling at the fringes of its awareness. The light wavered, faltering as if it might blink out of existence, but it did not. Instead, it grew stronger, more insistent, like the dying embers of a fire reignited by a sudden gust of wind. The phantom, unknowing and instinctive, began to gravitate toward it, drawn by something beyond its comprehension. As it approached, the light expanded, there was a feeling unfamiliar warmth. It was not a physical warmth, not something that could be felt by flesh, but a kind of warmth that stirred the dormant fragments of the shade's existence. The light was a beacon, a connection to the world of the living, and within it, the spirit felt a pull. An urge to reach out, to touch, to be known. It had no concept of language or thought, no understanding of what it was doing, only the compulsion to move closer to the source of the light. The connection was made, a tether to the world of the living, a fragile bridge crossing through the veil that separated the realms. Puzzlement found a place in the emotions that it was experiencing, as it recognized the siren call of voices asking the simplest of questions. It reached out blindly, seeking to communicate, touching the minds of those who spoke into the ether, and it realized the most startling of deductions. These were practically children, barely into their adulthood, and that it remembered the taste of innocence. Ravenous hunger filled the remaining emptiness of its being as otherworldly memories flooded through the mind of the entity, anchoring it to the planchette as the physical world grew into a surreal haze round its perception. And it knew in that moment exactly what it was. Images flashed before it. Glimpses of obscured rooms, of bodies entwined in the throes of passion and despair, of whispered promises and broken oaths. INCUBUS. The word came to it not as language but as an intrinsic truth, a label that fit the twisted shape of its essence. It was a creature born of desire, a predator that fed on the vitality of the living, drawing strength from their lust, their fears, their murkiest dreams. This was its purpose, its role in the universe: a devourer of life force, a corrupter of souls. It existed to seduce, to invade the sanctity of sleep and take what it desired, leaving its victims hollowed out, drained of something essential and unseen. The specter, now conscious of its identity, felt a wave of revulsion mixed with an insidious thrill at the power it wielded over the fragile beings it had once haunted. The floodgates of its mind burst open to reveal the full extent of its actions. The faces of those it had touched began to surface, men and women alike, their eyes glazed with the false ecstasy it had given them, unaware of the price they were paying. It saw them crumpled in beds, lifeless in the aftermath of its feeding, their once vibrant souls now withered remnants. It had been drawn to their vulnerabilities, their unspoken desires, twisting them into instruments of its own survival. The incubus had reveled in this, in the dance between pleasure and destruction, but now, in the light of the Ouija board, those memories were tainted with the bitterness of guilt, a pall of remorse that had no place in its existence. And yet, the Incubus could not fully grasp this remorse, for it was not a creature of empathy or regret. It understood its nature, its purpose, but not the morality of its actions. It was neither good nor evil. It simply was. And it replied. Yes. Yes! YES!!! ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● Ellie watched the planchette move across the board, her eyes widening in skepticism and just a hint of fear. She could feel her heart beating in her chest, and she felt the urge to tear her hand away from the board. "Don't," Lexi urged her, "you can't remove it until I close the game. All of you." Kaitlyn glared at her boyfriend beside her. "Stop that," she hissed. "Stop what?" "Pushing it." "That's not me." Josh gave her a careful sidelong glance, his usual joking nature replaced by uncharacteristic seriousness. Then the planchette suddenly stopped like it was locked in place, refusing to move any further, the glass directly over the word "yes." An awkward moment hung over them until Michael laughed, the sound seemingly too loud in the otherwise silent room. "Bullshit," he said, "one of you is fucking with us right now." He locked eyes with Ellie, who simply shook her head. Still, Michael lifted his other hand to muss the short curls at the top of his head, clearly skeptical. "No way that's real. Ghosts gotta prove their existence. If you're real, give us a sign or something." The wooden piece remained where it was and he looked up, satisfied. "See? Not real." "Not how it works, big brain," Lexi murmured, "you have to ask a question." She cleared her throat, then rephrased his request. "To the... spirit that's with us, are you real?" The five friends waited, the seconds seeming like an eternity before the planchette slowly moved. It circled once around the board before it landed on the "yes" again. Kaitlyn sucked in a sharp breath and looped her other arm around Josh's bicep. Only Lexi seemed to stay calm, a small smirk tugging up the edge of her lips. "That's not funny, Lex." Ellie gave her a disapproving look, tilting her head to the side and making a face. Some of her dark hair fell forward, gently framing her cheeks before she lifted her other hand to tuck the strands behind her ear. Somehow the room seemed colder to her now, just a couple degrees lower but still sent a shiver down her spine. It set her teeth on edge and raised goosebumps on her arms. She wondered if it was just in her head, or did the others feel it too? Or perhaps it was just the alcohol making her feel chills. Lexi returned a cautious gaze of her own. "It's not me either. If you want you can all ask it your own questions." The group of friends stared wordlessly at each other, and Ellie herself was torn between taking her up on the offer or asking her to end the game. In the end, her curiosity got the better of her. She reached for for the bottle of tequila and poured herself a shot, needing the liquid courage. Insane, she thought to herself as she tipped her head back, doing her best to ignore the burn of the amber liquor sliding down her throat. Ellie looked thoughtful for a moment, and then asked: "What do you want?" ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● They were all so beautiful. The Incubus marveled at the warmth emanating from the circle of young mortals, their life force glowing like a beacon in the cold darkness it had known for so long. It was drawn to them, irresistibly, like a moth to a flame. They were vibrant, pulsing with an energy that the Incubus found intoxicating. Their laughter, their fears, the tremble in their voices as they played with forces they did not understand. All of it was beautiful. It watched them, slipping between their thoughts, feeling the warmth of their flesh, the rapid beating of their hearts, and the rush of blood just beneath their delicate skin. Each one was a masterpiece that it yearned to touch, to taste, and to consume. The dark-haired girl, Ellie, captivated it the most. The way her hair framed her face, the subtle curve of her lips, the delicate rise and fall of her soft bosom as she breathed. Each movement was an entreaty of unspoken lust. The spirit hungered for her, the essence of her, to know her deepest fears, her wildest desires, and to claim them as its own. Though the others were beautiful in their own way. Kaitlyn, clinging to her boyfriend's arm, her heart beating faster with every passing second of the game. She was a bundle of nerves, a perfect vessel of anxiety and hidden need. Josh, strong and steady on the outside, but with a current of doubt running through him, a need to protect but also to dominate. Lexi, with her confident smirk, masking the dark curiosity that bubbled just beneath the surface, a curiosity that mirrored the Incubus's own. Michael, silent but perceptive, his thoughts a mixture of skepticism and intrigue, making him ripe for manipulation. So much potential. But then Ellie's voice cut through the silence. "What do you want?" And the Incubus felt a thrill ripple through its form, like the young girl had reached out and placed a finger on the very fabric of its existence and plucked. A ripple vibrating through its mind that completely fixed its attention upon her. Obsession blooming with sudden intensity. It fixated on her small frame, so full of vitality and potential, and her delicate features. At just 22 years old, Ellie was a perfect blend of womanhood and lingering naivety, a combination that sparked a ravenous hunger within the Incubus. She was like a carefully crafted porcelain doll, fragile, and how it yearned to break her, to bend her, to shape her and remake her under its own influence. It was that attention fixated upon her which dropped the temperature of the room for the young woman, hardening her nipples beneath her clothing, the sensation of breath wafting across the back of her neck bringing goosebumps to her skin. And she was waiting for an answer. And it answered. I (pause) W – A – N – T (pause) L – O – V – E But the answer came with more than just the movement of the planchette across the wooden board. Phantasmal hands slid to touch the young girl, a wicked sensation accompanied with thrill for those fingers knew how to caress. They brushed across her forearm, sliding to wrap round her wrist. Invisible fingers moved along the slender thigh, gripping to claim possession, digging in with poised precision so close to the heat between her thighs. It was real, just as real as the burning alcohol that blossomed into warmth within her belly. There was something there in the room with them, but it wanted her. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● The planchette moved slowly, Ellie's eyes darting back and forth between the wooden piece and each of her friends. Assessing, even despite her drunkenness, who might have been pushing the piece across the board. She searched them for signs―perhaps shiftiness in their gaze or a jerkiness to their hands―but all she saw were the same emotions mirrored in herself. Confusion, curiosity, and a flash of fear. What was different was the quarternary sensation, a heat that was steadily growing as she sat there on the floor. It was like a viscous magma ebbing and flowing through her body, oscillating her between cool and warm. Ellie frowned, confused at its existence. She'd had too much to drink, she decided. Perhaps the tequila was one shot too many. "I... want..." she read aloud for the group, following the planchette as it rolled leisurely across the board. Then, just barely perceptible, she thought she felt a feather light touch on her arm. It skimmed down her shoulder, skipped a few inches, and then returned to her forearm, grazing the flesh softly. The trailing caress on her skin left it electrified. She swallowed and breathed deep, the fabric of her t-shirt brushing against the sensitive peaks of her nipples. Another shiver went down her back, this time pleasant, almost sensual. What was wrong with her? “… Love. I want love,” Lexi finished, and the group broke out in a round of nervous laughter. "Don't we all?" joked Josh, a slight grimace on his face at the spirit's answer. The response appeared to be extraordinarily human―anyone could relate. Kaitlyn giggled next to him, using her free arm to snuggle in closer. "Maybe it's lonely, the poor thing," she said. Ellie’s breath caught in her throat. The touch felt clearer now, unmistakable as it slid up her bare leg. It stopped just at the hem of her shorts, seemingly tracing the delicate skin, edging closer and closer to her inner thigh. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and swayed a little, closing her eyes as she felt something grasp her wrist. "Hey, you okay?" Michael reached out an arm to steady her. "Yeah―I'm good," she replied, her lids fluttering open as she shifted again, this time as if allowing more access between her thighs. Pink flushed deeper on her cheeks as her abdomen tightened deliciously. "Drank too much." "We can see that," Lexi laughed and pushed a glass of water toward her. "Do we need to stop?" "No, don't!" Ellie didn't know if she was responding to Lexi or whatever it was that held her. She could feel the blood pulsing through her body, the heady mix of alcohol and pleasure making her head spin. The water she sipped on only seemed to highlight the sensation even more, the cold liquid in her stomach contrasting against the hot wetness beneath her shorts. Lexi grinned at her. "Well great then. I, for one, am very curious about this thing's non-existent love life." She sat up straighter and then asked the spirit, "Do you have someone you love?" ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● The little flower did not wilt underneath the attentions of the Incubus, but instead replied in the only way she was capable of communicating. With her silence, her lust, and her acceptance of its attentiveness to her delicate form. The young woman could brush away the concept, not accepting of the reality of the situation, but deep within Ellie would know the truth. Even if she were afraid to face it. And the Incubus, it reveled in the response it received from the mortals that had found their way into its presence. They were so delectable, and the dangerous spirit considered the manner in which it could manipulate them, heightening their emotions, turning the situation into something far more depraved. Like the ancient hedonistic parties of old, reveling in flesh and fornication. For now, though it would ply the one it had chosen for itself, but now that it had touched them, none would be safe from its machinations. Lexi’s eyes sparkled with a mix of intrigue and mischief as she awaited the planchette’s next movement. The earlier nervousness that had gripped the group seemed to have faded into the background for her, replaced by a burning curiosity. "Come on, spirit," she whispered under her breath, leaning forward as if to coax it into revealing more. Her fingers twitched slightly on the planchette, eager for the next word, the next answer. She shot a quick glance at Kaitlyn, who was still clinging to Josh, giggling like she was already drunk. Lexi resisted the urge to roll her eyes. As Kaitlyn leaned closer, snuggling, Josh’s grimace eased into something softer, and he turned his head to give Kaitlyn the smallest of kisses to her temple. Michael could not shake the gnawing concern that had settled in his gut. She usually laughed off stuff like this, but now she looked different. The idea that she was just messing with them did not quite sit right with him, but he tried to convince himself it was nothing. Maybe it was just the alcohol. Still, something about it made him uneasy. Michael had never really thought of himself as the jealous type but seeing her caught up like this made him feel protective and maybe even a little possessive. Which was stupid when it was just a dumb game they were playing. Michael was simply not sure what was bothering him, he just knew he did not like seeing her like this, and did not like how her focus had shifted away from the group. Away from him. His hand squeezed her arm, his voice almost demanding. “Look, maybe we can stop…” The planchette moved. E – L – L – I – E It had to be a joke, right? A prank that the others were playing on Ellie. But the sensation of hands upon her no longer seemed to be a sensation that could simply be ignored. Unseen fingers curled up under one perfect ripe breast, giving a confident squeeze of appreciation. Her nipples taunted, teased, tugged into little peaks beneath her shirt. And the invisible hand between her thighs did not just creep further, it bridged the distance to cup the gap between her legs, giving a slow grind that no clothing could protect her from. Phantasmal digits plied open the sweet wet sex of the succulent girl, opening her to an exploration that should never have occurred without her permission, but it seemed to know with accuracy the perfect execution of its task. As if it knew her intimately without ever having touched Ellie before. A slow graze of teeth across her throat was its hallmark, leaving a small reddening of her flesh, and the planchette completed the thought that the Incubus’s actions had already assured Ellie of. M - I – N – E Michael made a slow breathless noise before he spoke aloud. “What the absolute fuck?” ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● Hot, Ellie felt too hot. The air around her seemed thick as she breathed deep, struggling to come to terms with what was happening to her. The grip around her wrist squeezed tighter, almost uncomfortably so, before releasing and sneaking up under her shirt. She felt a hand gliding up the smooth skin of her stomach until it reached her breast, and then gasped as she felt the other hand dip between her legs. Vaguely she was aware that the planchette was moving beneath her finger, watching with half lidded eyes as it spelled out her name. Her name. Panic flooded her, the adrenaline spurring her to action as she tried to jerk her hand away from the board. Tried―but failed. Something prevented her hand from moving, some invisible force that held her in place. Several of her friends shot her a concerned look, and Kaitlyn's face paled. "Ellie? Ellie." But she said nothing, only attempting to pull away again, and was answered by the spirit toying with her body. It entered her, fingers that teased and pushed through wet folds to claim her. A breath caught in her throat and a slight groan escaped her lips, her head tipping backwards. She was caught in a place between fear and arousal, her breathing coming and going in quick shallow bursts as she trembled. Trembled from the unknown violation, or trembled from how it made her feel, she didn't know. The fingers stroked her knowingly and her walls tightened around them, her body betraying her to the unseen entity. The planchette moved again, faster this time, but Ellie didn't see what it had spelled out. The young woman was too preoccupied by the sharpness against her neck and the exquisite, but confusing, contrast it created as the fingers plunged further, deepening the heat pooling at her sex. She moaned again, some of her dark hair falling away from her shoulder to expose the reddening patch of skin above her collar bone. "What the absolute fuck?" she heard Michael say beside her, followed by Kaitlyn yelling something incoherent from across the table. Three of them―Josh, Kaitlyn, and Michael―removed their hands from the Ouija board to surround her, and Ellie felt her hand fall limply beside her, finally released from the hold. She cradled it on her lap as if nursing an injury and realized with sudden clarity that whatever was happening to her had stopped. The hands had disappeared, leaving the tingling skin on her breasts and the aching, pent up pressure inside her as the only evidence it had ever been there. "Ellie, are you okay?" Kaitlyn hovered above her, supporting her head as she inspected the mark on her neck. "What is this?" Michael turned a stern gaze to Lexi. "We're done with this shit," he said, "I don't know what you're trying to pull, Lex, but that was fucked up." "I didn't―it wasn't supposed to―" Lexi stammered, remorse and guilt plastered across her face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't think anything was going to happen." "But it did." "I'm sorry," she repeated, her voice small. A moment passed and then Lexi tentatively spoke. "We should probably close―" "Lexi. Stop." Michael looked angry now, his brow furrowing together in a tight line. He snatched the Oujia board and planchette from the coffee table and tossed it back into the box from which it came, then hoisted it up in his arms. "Take this," he told Josh as he nudged the other box with his foot. "We're taking this shit to the dumpster where it belongs." The two men left, and Ellie shivered. The chill felt even colder now, uncharacteristic of the September weather, and she rubbed her hands across her arms. There was still no explaining what had just happened or why it had only happened to her. She hoped it was some elaborate prank, but deep down she knew it wasn't. Whatever game they were playing had opened them to a danger they had never intended on inviting in, and she seemed to be at the center of it. Lexi cleared her throat, the remorse slowly being replaced by curiosity. "What... what happened?" she asked, an inquisitive lilt to her voice. Ellie opened her mouth, then paused as she thought she felt a thumb brush against her parted lips. A fleeting sensation, gone all too soon, but reminding her all the same of its presence. "I don't know," she answered. It was the truth. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● The apartment was quieter than usual, its stillness settling over Ellie like a thick blanket as she moved through the dimly lit hallway. It had been a few days since the incident with the Ouija board, and while life had returned to a semblance of normalcy, an unsettling undercurrent remained. She had tried to shake it off; to tell herself it was all just a bizarre coincidence, something her overactive imagination had twisted out of proportion. But the feeling lingered. An invisible presence that clung to her like a shadow she could not escape. Ellie stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her fingers absentmindedly brushing through her damp hair as she prepared for bed. The soft hum of the fan and the faint trickle of water from the faucet were the only sounds that could be heard. She told herself it was just exhaustion from starting her new job, just stress from the move and the weirdness with her friends. But every night since that evening, the same sensation would return: a chill that prickled her skin, and the faintest whisper of a touch that seemed to trail along her body, as though someone was always just out of sight, watching, waiting. Her reflection stared back at her, tired but unchanged. She had avoided looking too closely at her neck, where the faint mark had appeared after that night. What looked like a bruise but was not. It had faded now, almost gone, but when she pressed her fingers against the spot, she could still feel the memory of it, the strange warmth that seemed to pulse beneath her skin. She swallowed hard, pushing the thought away as she set down her brush and turned off the light. Moving to her bedroom, Ellie pulled back the covers and slipped into bed, the cool sheets offering a brief reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere that seemed to close in once the lights went out. The exhaustion felt bone-deep, settling into her muscles, and wrapping around her mind like a fog she couldn’t quite shake. Her eyelids fluttered, the soft blur of her bedroom fading into the haze of approaching sleep. Every breath felt slower, each inhalation drawing her further away from wakefulness, until the world around her became distant, muted. She fought it for a moment, a faint resistance born from the unease that still lingered in the back of her mind, but the pull of sleep was too strong. Soon, the edges of her thoughts softened, drifting out of reach as the darkness quietly enveloped her. -------------- Ellie found herself standing at the edge of an ancient forest, its twisted trees rising high above her like jagged spires against a sky devoid of stars. The air was thick with mist, clinging to her skin and filling her lungs with each shallow breath. The ground beneath her was soft, too soft, like damp earth that threatened to swallow her feet with each step. The trees, blackened and gnarled, reached out with crooked limbs, their bark splitting open to reveal hollow knots that seemed to watch her as she moved. The air was heavy with a silence so profound it felt unnatural, as though the entire forest was holding its breath, waiting. The world around her seemed suffused with an eerie glow, the kind that could only exist in nightmares. Soft, pale, and sickly, casting long shadows that danced and flickered at the edges of her vision. She couldn’t remember how she had gotten here, but her legs moved on their own, carrying her deeper into the woods as if drawn by an unseen force. Every step was accompanied by the distant crack of breaking twigs and the rustle of something moving through the underbrush, just out of sight. There was something in the woods with her. She could not see it, but she could feel it. A presence, hulking and immense, stalking her through the gloom, moving with a predatory silence that set every nerve on edge. Something snarled, low and guttural, an inhuman sound. She could feel it now, not just behind her, but all around her, closing in like a predator toying with its prey. Circling. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● The dreams started the night after the Oujia board incident. Ellie had always been a vivid dreamer anyway, but these were different in a way she couldn't explain, in a way that felt real. It was ludicrous to think they were, of course, and half the time she chalked it up the nerves of that strange night along with the start of her new job. The other half of the time she tried to convince herself that the odd occurrences around the house were pure coincidence: doors left ajar that she was sure she'd closed, creaks that should have been impossible in the newly renovated unit, and the shadows. Sometimes from the corner of her eye she would see it in the hallway or hanging just outside the entrance of her office―looming but elusive, disappearing if she ever tried to give it her full attention. But then, maybe that was a trick of the light, too, and she was just paranoid. And maybe she would have come to believe that if it hadn't been for the dreams. The shadows made their appearances when she was deep asleep, infiltrating her consciousness, always in her periphery. The first one had been mundane enough, being lost among a strange city full of people she didn't know, yet the shadow was there. It watched her from the alleyways and hid itself among the crowd, yet she could always sense it was there. The dreams that followed in the coming nights were relatively unchanged, which made tonight's dream all the more different. Her senses filled with an earthy scent, rich and green, as she found herself walking through trees. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, making the misty forest seem alien and heavy, almost unrecognizable. She was barefoot, her feet sinking into the thick of fallen leaves and moss with every step, with a white dress that draped over her body and hung to just above her knees. Curiously these woods weren't teeming with life like she would have expected it to. No, it was quiet―too quiet―not even the sound of crickets or cicadas echoing in the dark. The forest was, in fact, devoid of life, and Ellie quickly came to realize this was no dream. It was a nightmare. Would she see the shadow that had been haunting her other nightly fantasies? She barely had time to contemplate the question when she heard something rush past in the dimly lit distance, and she whirled around, suddenly on edge, to catch a glimpse. Terrified eyes flicked left and then right, the chocolate irises filling with fear, and her muscles tensed as a creeping sense of danger overcame her. "Hello...?" she managed to choke out, the words vocalized as a broken whisper. And the being answered. A growl that surrounded her, made her teeth clench as it reverberated through her; deep, wild, and menacing. Run! her whole body seemed to scream, and she did. Without direction or destination, Ellie turned on her heel and sprinted as fast as her legs could take her. Adrenaline fueled her body forward, even when she heard the rumbling snarl that threatened to close in from all sides, and she didn't dare look back. Light turned dimmer as she raced further and further into the forest, the density of the underbrush somehow becoming thicker as if to purposefully slow her down. Leafy fronds reached out through the mist, their thorny branches skimming and tearing across her dress as she pushed through. Sweat beaded at her forehead; her calves cried out. Still, she ran until she could hear her own heart thudding in her chest, working and straining to keep her going. And just when she thought she could take no more, her lungs threatening to give out, she saw it: the glimpse of a hiding spot, a tree hollow just barely covered by a layer of saplings and shrubs. She could have sobbed in relief as she hurriedly maneuvered her way across the tangled roots and into the opening at the base of trunk, pressing her back up against the wood as if to make herself one with the tree. Heavy, ragged breaths heaved her small body, her chest rising and falling as she gasped for air. But the danger had not released her yet. She couldn't see it and couldn't hear it, but somehow she knew whatever was hunting her had not relented. Desperate, Ellie brought up a hand over her mouth to stifle her breathing, but a whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it. The sound was small, weak and soft, and she could only pray that the predator outside hadn't heard. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● The growl that answered Ellie’s whimper was the sound of the earth splitting open, a primal noise that seemed to come from the very roots of the forest itself. It rumbled deep and low, vibrating through the ground and into the air, shaking the leaves above her head. The presence was no longer just an idea or a distant fear. It was alive, and hungry. It breathed with the night, surrounding her like a tightening noose, and when the snarl reverberated again, it was as if the forest exhaled in anticipation. A rustling emerged from the shadows, then a crunching of leaves, as though something massive was pushing through the undergrowth, and it was close. Too close. In the gloom, a pair of glowing eyes flickered through the mist, cutting through the oppressive atmosphere like burning coals. They were locked onto her, sharp and malevolent, brimming with a predatory intelligence that sent waves of terror crashing over the landscape. The creature, the nightmare, had found her. It emerged slowly at first, as if savoring the chase, its monstrous form materializing from the depths of the twisted forest. The creature was a wolf, but no ordinary wolf. Its body was hulking and grotesque, towering above the underbrush like a specter woven from the night. Its fur was matted and thick, almost blending into the shadows, and every inch of it seemed to writhe with the energy of something not entirely of this world. Massive claws dug into the earth with each step, leaving deep furrows in the ground that seemed to smolder with an unnatural heat. Its face was the stuff of nightmares with long, jagged teeth jutted from a gaping maw, dripping with saliva that glistened unnaturally in the sickly moonlight. Its eyes, those burning orbs of hatred, were fixed on her, unblinking and hungry. The creature's breath came in ragged huffs, the scent of decay and blood filling the air around it as it prowled closer, every muscle in its body rippling with predatory intent. The wolf growled again, the sound vibrating through the trees, a vicious, guttural promise of what would come if it found her. And underneath that growl was a word. No, a name. My god, it said a name beneath the deep vibration of its horrifying sound. Ellie. Its massive snout twitched, sniffing the air, tasting her fear on the wind. It knew she was near. It lowered its head, shoulders hunched, muscles coiled like a spring ready to explode. A soft growl rumbled from its chest, almost as if it were laughing, toying with her, savoring the game before the final strike. The brush creaked, twigs cracking as they bent and snapped as the large beast lumbered towards her, those eyes hypnotizing beacons as it bridged the distance between them. There was no safety in this world for Ellie, no hint of reprieve from the spike of fear that served to lock her into place. Sickeningly, like a twist of knot deep within the confines of one’s stomach, the terrible beast seemed remarkably well endowed. And worst of all, aroused. Its maw came close to Ellie’s face. And it smiled. Ellie. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● Terror flooded Ellie's mind, her eyes widening as the wolf emerged from the darkness. A ragged breath caught in her throat as the mist gave way to its massive form, its eyes glowing amber and dangerous. She could feel her whole body tensing, trembling, and when a twig snapped under the weight of the wolf's paw, it took everything within her to stop a broken sob from escaping her chest. It neared, causing her to slide her body against the wood until she was at the edge of the hollow's other entrance. She swallowed, hearing her heartbeat thud loudly in her ears. And then it said her name, and her blood turned to ice. The young woman was shaking now, her small body shivering from both the cold and her hyperventilation. Ellie was light headed by the time it approached her, barely registering the hot breath blowing in her face. Her eyes were shut tight, her face turned away, yet she knew it was close enough to touch her. The wolf's saliva dripped down on her dress and legs, sticky and searing against her skin. It's snout brushed against her cheek, sniffing, not with curiosity but with a singular malicious intent. Somewhere in Ellie's heart, she knew it was hunting and she was its prey. A deep rumble sounded again and she jerked, but turned her head to squint at the beast. Its eyes were still fixated upon her, the pupils shining eerily in the low light. The wolf seemed to smile at her―grotesque and snarl-like, it's jowls lifting to bare razor sharp teeth―taking obvious enjoyment in her fear. Ellie, it said again, her name reverberating and cutting through the silence. "No... no," she replied, more to herself than anyone else, her voice barely a whisper but broken. Her head was shaking back and forth in some desperate plea for escape as her feet pushed her backwards slowly towards the other entrance to the hollow. Tears rolled down her cheeks but she made no effort to wipe them away. Then the wolf stepped forward with one of its heavy paws, and Ellie shrieked loudly in panic. "NO!" Her knees drew to her chest as she used her feet to push against the monstrous head, feeling the unnatural warmth emanating beneath its fur. She kicked and screamed, hysterical, before digging her hands into the ground behind her to hoist herself out of the hollow. Fingers scrabbled at the dirt and leaves before she was finally able to stand, her exhausted legs seemingly dragging against the ground. Behind her, a sickening distorted growl rang into the air, and she could have sworn the wolf was laughing. Panicked sobs tore from her chest as she ran blindly, her cries getting progressively louder as she heard the galloping paws closing distance. Ellie, she heard again, and felt a force catch her dress and pull her back a few feet. Her small body dragged against forest floor, moss and other debris tangling in her dark hair, until she heard the fabric rip, leaving her ass bare. Ellie looked down, horrified to find she wasn't wearing underwear; her fair skin glowed an odd color in the sickly, greenish hue of the moonlight. And even more horrific was the wolf that now circled her. It looked somehow larger out in the open, its orange eyes unblinking as it walked along its path. The same guttural, otherworldly laugh raised the hairs on Ellie's neck. She looked down to see the wolf's aroused member below its belly, unsheathed and enormous, and she instinctively tugged the tatters of her dress down. It couldn't be, but... the wolf was stalking forward now. It looked hungry. "Stop," she told the beast weakly through her crying and sniffling. "Don't..." ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● The forest seemed to shift in response to the impending violence, its twisted trees bending inward, their skeletal branches clawing at the sky like witnesses to a brutal spectacle about to unfold. The once-silent woods were now alive with the sound of the monstrous wolf’s pursuit. The pounding of its paws like thunder rolling across the earth, the snapping of branches, and the eerie groan of the wind that howled through the twisted limbs above. The air was thick, suffocating, as though the forest itself held its breath, waiting for the moment when blood would be spilled. Even the moon, weak and pale, barely filtered through the dense canopy, casting a faint, sickly glow over the scene as if reluctant to bear witness to the horror. The damp earth clung to her skin, cold and unforgiving, as if the very ground sought to swallow her whole, to consume her before the wolf could. The soft whisper of leaves brushing against each other became a sinister murmur, a chorus of death songs that filled the air with dread. Even the mist seemed to thicken, wrapping around her like a suffocating shroud. The very atmosphere was charged, humming with the promise of violent degradation. And oh, how the wolf smiled as its shadow fell over her. The wolf’s growls echoed through the woods, primal, sending tremors through her skin as it approached. The weight of the creature’s presence pressed down upon her, a relentless force that threatened to crush her spirit as much of her body. The smell of its dark black fur, something animalistic, but underneath was a remnant. Something that had no place there. The flickering memory of the smell of candles and booze, a fragment of thought as a reminder of the night she and her friends found the Quija board. The size of the behemoth seemed to plunge Ellie into darkness, a thing born of nightmares and cruelty, the embodiment of some ancient hunger. And it leaned down over her to lick the terrified woman’s face, a slow disgusting swipe of its tongue that longed to taste the tears off of her silken skin. Her pleas did not seem to deter the creature, and why would it, for this was a nightmare and, in a nightmare, there could be no reprieve. Roots sprouted from the ground to take hold of her limbs, jerking her arms up above her head, splaying open her thighs as the massive beast continued its appraisal of her slim body. Viciously the roots grew thick, wrapping around her wrists and ankles, keeping her in place as she squirmed in desperation with no relief. The wolf’s breath, hot and strong, washed over her live a wave, a predator savoring the decisive moments before the kill. Though it did not seem, at least in this horror, that her death was on the horizon. Not as the tongue that lapped at her face continued downwards across the soft swell of her breasts, the tatters of her dress no deterrent from its attentions. And then, horrifyingly, the beast spoke once more as its mouth opened and it raised its head to stare into her beautiful eyes. “Don’t,” it said mockingly. “Stop,” it laughed deep in its chest. “This is your dream. You want this.” Suddenly she was mounted, the massive cock finding its way to her soft folds, opening her with a brutality befitting such a monstrous visage. The toothy grin widened as its weight came down against her, the beast somehow finding a way to angle to continue its vicious penetration. And as it began to burrow deep within her it raised its maw to the moon above and howled its victorious cry. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● The wolf's howl, sharp and booming, rang above Ellie's head and echoed through the otherwise silent forest. It drowned out her own broken yelp at the violation within her sex, her mind still not finished processing the suddenness of the intrusion. Pain flooded her senses as the wolf's massive cock forced her open, shaking her small body every time it thrust into her. Still, despite the discomfort she felt the wetness between her thighs was undeniable. She hadn't realized it yet but her arousal and fear were inexplicably connected; the evidence dripped from the soft, pink lips of her pussy down to her butt, the leakage disappearing between pert cheeks. Desperately she pulled against the roots holding her place, but to no avail. The woody tendrils seemed to tighten instead, digging into her wrists and ankles with biting pressure. When she attempted to close her knees, two more roots shot out of the ground and wrapped themselves around her thighs, squeezing the soft flesh. Ellie gasped as they violently pulled her legs apart once more and angled her hips upward to offer the beast easier access to her body. The young woman's face was frozen in a voiceless scream as she stared up at the wolf, the sickly hue of the moon casting a green tint on its dark fur. If she didn't know better she would have said the wolf looked like it was in pleasure. It snarled softly on top of her, baring its teeth in that twisted grin she hated. After a moment its amber eyes connected with hers and it snapped its maw next to her head, the sharp fangs coming dangerously close to her face. Ellie flinched and turned away, her head falling to the side on the soft grass. She squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth as she felt the animal's tongue sweep up the milky skin of her neck to her cheek. She she felt its snout at her ear, the wet nose making contact with her earlobe, and the wolf rumbled a low growl while burying itself deep inside her. Ellie's breath hitched in her throat and to her surprise, her velvety walls quivered in response. The pain had significantly subsided now, leaving only a tender ache and the sudden awareness of how full she felt. The wolf's mocking words replayed in her mind: This is your dream. You want this. Did she? The thought crossed her mind but she knew she wouldn't have to ponder it. Already she could feel the shame spreading across her face, hot embarrassment at the truth she refused to acknowledge. The wolf above her seemed to recognize the inner dialogue she was having with herself, and she heard it chuckle then pick up its pace. Ellie could feel its cock sliding in and out deliciously, stretching her more than she had ever felt before. The tiniest of moans escaped her lips, her body betraying her pleasure as she felt herself tightening around him, pulsing in rhythm every time it drove itself into her dripping cunt. There was a momentary lull as the wolf briefly stepped back, and the roots around Ellie’s limbs flipped her onto her hands and knees. Strangely the restraints released her and fell limp to the ground, yet Ellie made no move to escape. Instead she laid down her head and pushed her ass up in the air behind her, an unspoken invitation for the beast to take her again. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |
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● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● Such a feast. The Incubus reveled in the unfolding terror, its essence swelling with each pulse of fear that radiated from Ellie like waves crashing against a shore. Her terror was intoxicating, a sweet, raw energy that fed the very core of its being. It was not the chase or the violence itself that satisfied the entity, but the complete dominion it now held over her mind and spirit. Every frantic breath she took, every desperate heartbeat, only deepened its connection to her, binding her to it in ways she could not begin to understand. The Incubus fed on her fear, not like a mere predator consuming prey, but as a connoisseur savoring the most exquisite of delicacies. Her emotions were laid bare before it, each one a rich offering. The dread that coursed through her body as she ran, the horror that had frozen her in place when the wolf lunged; it all fed the Incubus, each moment of helplessness another thread in the web it was weaving around her soul. The power of her fear was primal, raw, and deep, filling it with a profound satisfaction. It was not just feeding on her terror; it was becoming part of it, intertwining itself with every dark thought, every helpless cry she tried to stifle. And then the sumptuous twist of fear and horror into desire and lust. The final disgusting manifestation of the Incubus’s power over the woman, as her own hidden urges were given expression. Control. That was what it savored most of all. The knowledge that it had orchestrated this nightmarish landscape, that it had taken Ellie’s darkest dreams and brought them to life in a way that no mortal mind could comprehend. Ellie was no longer just a victim; she was a vessel, her emotional and spiritual energy flowing into the Incubus like an endless river. Her tear-streaked sexuality, her fear laden arousal, was potent. It was electric, and it crackled in the air, feeding the entity’s hunger in a way that physical sustenance never could. It drank deeply, and it felt Invincible, but the Incubus, in its dark mastery, did not merely take; it gave back in equal measure, returning the energy it drained from Ellie in a twisted, perverse cycle. It amplified and distorted, transformed into something more potent. A cocktail of exhilaration that enveloped Ellie completely and deepened her dependence on its presence. And in turn Ellie herself began to participate in the dream, an offering given of her own accord. When Ellie turned over on all fours, raising herself so that her young derriere was spread wide in supplication, the wolf smiled. There was no denying that she had taken her own satisfaction in his depredations upon her tiny frame. The evidence of excitement glistened along the folds of her slick cunt, but it was the continued need which drew a hungry growl of excitement from the beast. The intention was clear, and invitation to continue, and he would, but not as he was. No, the time of the beast had come to an end. What Ellie felt next were simply hands, strong and certain as they touched her hips. A man, yet somehow still that ravenous monster, his fingers taking hold in the dream. The reflection of her needs given shape in masculine form. Still amorphous, indistinct in visage, but a framework to be defined. Those hands held her securely, guiding, and penetration occurred anew. This though, was the same, the thick massive prick that went deep inside of her slender form. There was no time wasted as the Shadow began to fuck her, the movement of his hips becoming a staccato slap against her backside, obliterating the young girl with ferocity. There was no need for it to howl any longer, for its victorious cries were quickly replaced with the sounds emanating from Ellie’s beautiful throat. ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● |