Feature Writer: Dean_Harper
Feature Title: VESPER
Published: 05.09.2025
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
Synopsis: A man who preys on women is preyed upon in turn.
Author’s Notes: I hope you enjoyed this tale. If you think the ending is fucked up, then you should Google “Tarantula Hawk” and learn more about parasitic wasps. Nature’s scary — This story was written for the 2025 Dark Fairy Tales author challenge. It has some content not everyone might be into, but I hope you enjoy it. If you don’t like the protagonist at the start, just know that he gets the ending he deserves.
Vesper
Golden sunlight filtered through the dancing green of breeze swept leaves to cast swaying shadows upon the forest path. Hot sun and cool shade came together to make the forest floor almost pleasant.
Almost.
Cecil scoffed at the mud accumulating on his boots, which had been shined just that morning. Nature. Peh. A dirty, smelly state of being that civilized men actively removed themselves from. It was an unfortunate necessity that a man as well fed and well dressed as himself had to leave the comfort of his manor or the town which ran and, mostly, owned.
“Ah, there it is.”
Two saplings were twisted around one another just off the path. Beside them was a game trail so narrow only a rabbit could use it without rustling the bushes on either side. Cecil made his way up the path, quietly cursing every branch and twig brushing against his fine coat. The path stayed narrow for some time, then it widened and the man – whose hair was greying – could hear the gentle babbling of a nearby brook.
“She had better be there.” He muttered.
Moving on, the middle aged aristocrat soon came upon a lovely sight.
A stream had carved a wide recess into the forest floor where it ran slowly and gently over round river stones. On the far side it was waist deep, but the nearer shore could only cover one’s ankles. It was on that close side that several boulders had been exposed in centuries past. By chance, the shade cast by surrounding trees didn’t cover those large, flat rocks. Each was warm and dry.
Of course, Cecil Blummonte didn’t care at all for the beauty of nature or the promise of a delightfully cool dip. No. The only beauty he cared for was that of young women, and his gaze fell upon one such woman in a wheat gold dress sitting patiently upon a sun warmed boulder. Was she nineteen? Twenty? He didn’t know. Or care.
She rose when he came into view and gave a quick curtsey. “Mr. Blummonte.”
He grinned. “Chastity.” His voice was calm and smooth.
Thin. Fair. Blonde. Young. And most importantly, all alone. She was just his type.
She didn’t look straight at him. She couldn’t. And her hands were shaking so badly she had to hold them behind her back. He came down into the little river bottom, stones crunching under his boots, and leaned against the other boulder.
“I would like to ask if there was some other-”
“No.” He said. “There isn’t. Now show me.”
Chastity wasn’t slow. Rather, she moved quite quickly, clearly hoping to get her task done and over with. She started by undoing the buttons on the front of her yellow dress. Then she peeled it from her torso and pushed it down her legs. Beneath was a white petticoat and undershirt. The petticoat was quickly pushed down as well, leaving the blonde in only her boots and the clean fabric of her under garments.
“Show. Me.” Cecil repeated.
She took a breath, then undid the ties that held that soft fabric close to her body. Soon enough, all of her cloth sat on the boulder instead of on her body.
Chastity was tall for a girl. Cecil didn’t like that. Her hips were narrow. He didn’t like that either. But her breasts looked nice and round and perky. And her skin was so pale…
“Turn around.”
She did so. He stared at her rear. A bit flat, but nice enough.
“Good.” He said.
“Good?” She turned back around, a look of hope in her eyes. “Then I can-”
“No, obviously not. I meant ‘good’ as in, good you aren’t ugly or deformed. You aren’t done here, Chastity. Now get on that rock. Show me.”
She did as she was told, climbing up into the boulder, spreading her legs…
“Touch yourself.”
She finally looked straight at him. “But that’s sinful!”
“Do it!” His voice cracked. Calm, smooth tones briefly gave way to something small and shrill.
Chastity put her fingers upon her womanhood and slowly rubbed. Up and down. Side to side. Then around and around. Sinful or not, she’d done it before, that much was clear. Cecil couldn’t help but smile and grope the bulge in his trousers.
“Pinch your nipple.”
She had to learn further back to do it. But she did. Pinching and tugging at the pink nub capping one of her modest breasts.
Cecil fought with buttons and ties for a moment before exposing his engorged manhood to the fresh forest air. It wasn’t particularly long or thick, but it did have a fat purple head and a noticeable curve to one side. He stroked himself and groaned. Chastity looked down along her naked body and her eyes went wide when she saw him. She paused.
“Keep going.” He said.
Chastity whimpered, but continued for a few minutes more.
“Have you ever been with a man?” Cecil asked.
He wanted to pound the delicate flower between her legs. If she had been with a man, then there was no virginity for her to lose and he could stretch her out with little evidence. But Cecil was also revolted by the idea of going where another man had gone before. He needed his women to be pure, to have never known the touch of another.
She held her hand over her “I have not.”
There were still options.
From his pocket, the wealthy man pulled a small bottle of oil. He poured some into his palm, then rubbed it across his stiff pole.
“Come down off that rock, then turn around and bend over.”
“Mr. Blummonte!”
“Do it!” Shrill, again. “Do it or I’ll fire your father from his job at the mill, release your mother from her duties as a seamstress and raise the rent on your home! You know why you’re here, Chastity. You know what this is about. So either walk away into a life of poverty, or turn around and bend over!”
For a moment, the only sounds in the world were the babbling brook and rustling leaves.
Chastity whimpered. Then she turned around, tilted forward and put her palms down on the warm stone. Cecil strutted up behind her and poured oil between her pert cheeks. The gold-green fluid ran across her pale skin, briefly, before his finger scooped it up and pressed against the wrinkled button of her back door.
“N- No…” She muttered.
“I don’t care much for that word, Chastity.”
He pushed. And pushed! And then his finger was inside. One knuckle. Two. Then all the way to the third. Her whole body was tense.
“You should relax.” He said. “Or you’ll hurt yourself.”
He pumped her for a moment before pulling his finger free and wiping it clean on a handkerchief. Then Cecil pressed the oiled head of his swollen tool against Chastity.
Pressure mounted. She clenched. She tried to stop him. More pressure. More! Suddenly, he was inside her. It was just the tip, but he was in. Chastity’s hands balled into fists. She grunted. Cecil slapped her ass and grabbed her hips. Then he pushed forward. Slowly, but surely, more and more of his wealthy cock slid into her poor ass. When he bottomed out – which didn’t take too long – he started to move.
Life was good.
Cecil’s father had died while he was young, leaving the entire family estate to him. He’d used that wealth to buy many of the buildings and businesses in town and establish himself as mayor. Now the townsfolk had to do what he told them to. He was their landlord. And their employer. And their government. That gave him power over them. That made him better than them.
Chastity had loosened up a bit. By slowing down, Cecil could hear her mutter to herself. Prayer? Her hands were clasped together, her head bowed. Cecil grinned. He liked it. She was praying while getting fucked up the ass by a man old enough to be her father.
Could what he was doing be wrong?
No. Obviously not. Every threat he made against Chastity’s family was something he had a legal right to do. And she herself had the option to walk away at any time. He never forced her. By the laws of man, Cecil had done nothing wrong.
And as for the laws of God, well, sodomy was a grey area. If what he was doing was wrong, God would punish him. But no bolts of lightning came crashing down from the sky. There was no rain of fire, either. No pestilent swarms. No boils. Nothing. Nothing at all to suggest he was doing anything he shouldn’t be.
“Take it!” He said, slapping her ass again. “You love it! I know you do. You all do! You young whores, walking around town, showing off your ankles and shoulders. You’re all just begging to get fucked. So stop pretending you didn’t want this. I know- I know you did!”
Cecil grunted and groaned and pushed himself against Chastity, pulling her by her hips until his sack pressed against her virgin flower. His balls tensed, his cock twitched, then he erupted within her. One spurt. Two. Then a third. Then he was done.
The wealthy landowner pulled back from his tenants ruined hole and admired his handiwork as it dripped and ran down her legs. Chastity’s knees failed her and she slid down to kneel on the small river stones that made up the stream’s shore. He put a hand on her golden head and turned her to face him. Then he mashed the slick bulb of his manhood against her lips.
She struggled.
“Do it.” He said. “Do it!”
She did it. She was passive, there was no licking or sucking or slurping, but she did it. For as long as she could, at least. The blonde eventually reached her limit, pulling away to gag and heave.
Cecil pulled out his handkerchief, then he thought better of cleaning himself with that and instead used Chastity’s petticoat.
“You did good, Chastity. Be proud, you’ve helped your family.” He didn’t actually believe she had anything to be proud of, but he found those words helped to smooth out many of the wrinkles left after those sorts of encounters with the local girls.
Cecil Blummonte then put his cock away and left the girl to clean herself in the stream. There was a smile on his face and a spring in his step.
Life was good.
xxxxx
Further in the forest there was a long dead tree, its hollowed carcass filled with frost despite the summer heat. What little light found its way into that dark place shimmered as ghostly greens and blues across the thing that dwelled there. Looking out from its lair, ilthe thing could see a hole in the forest; a gap between trunks and branches and leaves giving it a clear line of sight of a distant stream and sun warmed boulders.
It watched Cecil and Chastity.
When the sun set, the thing flew from the dead tree on wings the colour of rust. When next it touched the earth, round river stones crunched under its clawed feet. There was a stain on some of those stones; the stink of seed. The thing took a deep breath of that musky smell, then launched again into the night sky.
xxxxx
A cool night breeze carried the smell of flowers into Cecil’s private chambers. When had he opened the window? He hated birds and bugs and fresh air, preferring the smells of a roaring hearth and cigars and sherry. He was going to close it, then he stopped. Was that a giggle from his bed? Was someone there, hiding behind his bedcurtains? The aristocrat pulled back the curtain and found…
Nothing.
He turned around and stood in the town’s main road. All around him, people hustled and bustled in their daily routines. There was someone there. Someone new. There! Standing on the other side of the crowd was a young woman. He saw glimpses of her as townsfolk walked between them. She was facing away, wavy orange hair falling around her shoulders, standing out against a dress so deeply blue it could have been black. A broad cloth belt of pale green pulled tight around her tiny waist.
Cecil tried to move towards her, but his arms and legs were so heavy, his stride so slow, by the time he made it across the road it was already night and she was lone gone.
“Hello?” He asked.
“Cecil…”
The word was soft and airy and came from somewhere above him. Looking up, he saw a girl on the roof of a building. No, a young woman. Her face was a blur, though everything around her was crystal clear.
“Who are you?”
He took a step forward, tripped and fell to his hands and knees on small river stones. Looking up again, he saw her sitting on the edge of a flat boulder.
She was clear!
Wide hips, a buxom chest and a wasp thin waist suggested a body built for sex, but that face… with pouting pink lips and doe eyes the colour of the sea, framed in waves of brilliant orange, she was the picture of innocence. Of purity.
God, how he wanted to defile her.
“Cecil…” She said again, her voice light and sweet.
He staggered to his feet. Then he took a step. Then another. He reached out to touch her. If only he could touch her!
The girl fell away from him, down the steam, off the roof, across the road, and out his window. Higher and higher! Faster and faster! She fell and fell and fell until she hit the dome of stars and dreams and shattered the night sky.
xxxxx
Cecil Blummonte shot up with a brief yelp.
He was alone. His body was covered in a glistening sheen of cold sweat. The bedcurtains were open and a cool breeze billowed in from his window. The man rubbed his temples. God, how they hurt. Like some vice had been clamped to his skull and only just been removed.
Closing the window was the first order of business.
Pouring himself a stiff drink was the second.
xxxxx
It was days before Cecil Blummonte enjoyed a restful night. Days more before his nerves had settled enough for him to prowl around town in that faux-friendly way he so enjoyed. The man was not much of a dreamer, so to have such a vivid vision in the night was distressing.
Another woman!
That was what he needed to feel better, some pleasant enough young tart to push around. The coopers were behind on their rent and had a daughter set to shortly be wed, perhaps he would pay them a visit and offer her a chance to pay off the family debt. There was also the woodsmans wife on the edge of town. She was still young and pretty enough. Cecil could tell her his plan to tear down their old home, unless she could convince him otherwise.
He could always see Chastity again. Maybe drag her into the church so her prayer would be more appropriate while he ploughed her back field. Just thinking about it was enough to make him stiff.
Walking the main road through their little town, he started to hear things…
“She’s so young. And you said she has no family?” Gossiped a mother.
“Pretty girl like that shouldn’t be living all by her lonesome.” Suggested a young man.
“I don’t trust her. Can’t trust anyone livin’ out of a wagon like that.” Grumbled a weathered old man.
In such a small community, it didn’t take Cecil long to find out who they were discussing without having to ask.
Her name was Vesper.
She had arrived only a few nights prior, only for the mule that pulled her wagon to run off in the night and leave her stranded on the edge of town. Now she stayed there, living out of her wagon, doing odd jobs around town in exchange for food. She was supposedly thin, fair, young, and all alone.
Just his type.
Cecil Blummonte could feel his own pulse quicken when he learned where her wagon had been stranded. It was on one of the many tracts of unused land he owned. Yes. Yes! How could anyone say he was a bad man when God gave him such gifts? He hadn’t even met the girl and already he had an edge.
Walking with some pep in his step, the wealthy land owner made his way to the far end of town and spied a covered wagon sitting a little ways in the distance. It wasn’t like him to spend too much time out in the sun, but if it meant being alone with a young woman who had no support from the community, he’d be more than happy to suffer a stroll across an overgrown field.
“Hello?” He called out in his friendly voice a little ways from the wagon. “This is Cecil Blummonte, the local Mayor and owner of the land you are currently squatting on.”
There was rustling inside the wagon. Then the canvas flaps covering its back end flipped partway open and a head covered in wavy orange hair popped into view.
“Oh! The Mayor! I’ve heard so much about you. Just one moment, please, I am indecent.”
Her head popped back in, leaving Cecil to stand in the field with wide eyes and a slack jaw. It was her! The girl from his dream! With orange hair and pink lips and eyes like the sea. But how? How could a woman he dreamed of be walking around in the waking world?
Cecil was not a superstitious man. He’d heard people say that dreams could contain prophecy, but that was uncivilized foolishness. Wasn’t it? If it wasn’t, if he dreamed of her before he met her, what did that mean? Was she meant to be his?
More importantly, was the rest of her body just the way he’d dreamed it?
Stepping forward, the greying man found the flap hadn’t closed all the way. He could see into the wagon. See the young woman in her undergarments, pulling a deep blue dress up her legs. Those hips… that waist… and that chest! She was just as he dreamed. The face of an angel on the body of a whore. She could have been eighteen. She could have been twenty one or two. It was hard to say, given the contrast between her youthful beauty and well developed body.
Cecil stepped back and waited for her to finish. It took another minute before the wagon flap flipped fully open to reveal a young woman and a wagon of assorted personal effects.
“All better!” She said with a chipper smile. “I’ll just- Woah!”
The girl started climbing down from the wagon, but slipped. Cecil was close enough to catch her on the way down. She was light as a feather. Holding her made him feel strong.
“Oh, why thank-you, Mr. Blummonte. I’ve had some bad luck recently, but it looks like maybe things are starting to turn around.” She smelled of flowers. “Might I ask you to put me down?”
He grinned and held her for a moment longer, then he obliged. Soon. Soon. But it was important not to scare them away. Not right at the start, at least. Not until he’d sunk his hooks into her flesh. Not until he had a way to yank her back to him.
“You already know who I am, but as Mayor and as this lands owner I need to know who you are.”
“Oh! Right. Excuse me, I can be a bit scattered at times. My name is Vesper.” She gave him a curtsey. “I’m not from around here.”
“So I’ve heard.” Cecil smiled a practiced, disarming smile. One he’d used to worm his way into people’s lives time and time again. “Tell me, Vesper, what is a woman like you doing living out of a wagon?”
“Oh, well, my mother passed away some time ago and my father was lost at sea just last year. Since then I’ve been all by myself. I wanted a change of pace, so I sold most of my possessions to buy a wagon and a mule and set out into the world to look for something new.” She was beaming with pride. Then she wasn’t. “And, ahh, a few nights ago I stopped here to sleep and my mule ran off. Now I’m stuck.”
“So you have no parents?”
“I’m afraid not, no.”
“And no friends?”
She coiled a bit of her hair around one finger and swayed side to side. “I can make friends. I had friends back home. But, umm, not here. No.”
This was promising. Very promising. The laws of man and God could only hold people back so much, after all. If Cecil did what he really, truly wanted to do with the women he got his hands on then it would only be a matter of time before he was clubbed to death in the middle of town. He knew his very public killing would somehow have no witnesses.
But this girl – Vesper – she truly was a gift from God.
“My lady…”
She giggled and covered her mouth. “Sorry, It’s just, I’m hardly a lady. This year will only be my twentieth winter.”
His grin grew. “You are a fine lady, Vesper. But I’m afraid you’re also trespassing. Well, squatting, really. I’ll have to charge you rent for the lot of land you’re currently staying on.”
Her eyes went wide. How they shimmered. Were they green? Or blue?
“Oh no. Oh no! How much do I owe you, Mr. Blummonte?”
He looked around. Then he pointed. “This plot of land stretches from those trees over there…” Then he pointed in the other direction. “All the way to the town’s edge. I haven’t divided it, so I’m afraid I have to charge you for the whole thing. I’d have to do some paperwork to figure out exactly how much you owe me already, but I know it won’t be cheap.”
Her hand shook. Her lip quivered. Tears welled in her eyes.
“Oh, I see… I’m so terribly sorry, Mr. Blummonte. I’ll… I’ll get my wagon off your land anyway I can. And I promise-” She gasped. “I promise I’ll pay back what I owe. It just might take me a while.”
Easy. So easy. So sweet and pure and innocent. So foolish.
She turned away. “I’m sorry, good sir, but life has been so hard and then my mule ran and now- and now-”
Cecil put a hand on Vespers shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze.
“Don’t worry, my dear. Don’t worry. Why don’t you come with me to my manor and we can figure something out over dinner. I can even send someone to bring your wagon and leave it nearby.”
“You’d- you’d do that for me?”
“Of course. I can’t promise anything, but at the very least I’m sure we can figure out some kind of arrangement. Perhaps you could work off your debt somehow.”
“Oh, thank-you Mr. Blummonte, thank-you!” She hit his chest with nearly enough force to knock him over and wrapped her arms around his body. “I’ve never known a man as kind as you.”
Kind. That was a word, though not one that had ever been used to describe Cecil Blummonte.
xxxxx
“Might I have some more wine, Mr. Blummonte? I can see now why people drink it all the time. It is so good!”
“I think perhaps you’ve had enough, Vesper. There is still much for us to discuss, and do, and I don’t want you too drunk to remember. It’s important that your remember.”
“Oh, such a gentleman. Thank-you for looking out for me, Mr. Blummonte.”
His house staff had been dismissed for the evening and following day. How grateful they were to still be paid for the time. That left him and Vesper all alone.
They sat at a little table in his study. He had insisted they not put business before pleasure, and so they dined on meat pies and drank red wine. The girl was proving to be a lightweight. He wanted her loosened up a bit. A little uninhibited. But not falling over drunk.
Because it really was important to him that she remember.
Cecil got up from the table and sat at his desk. There, he looked over some charts and added up some numbers. “It doesn’t look good, Vesper. I have to charge you for that entire plot of land for each night you were there. Even if you sold your wagon…”
“Oh!” The threat of tears returned. “Could I ask you to waive the rent? Please? I had no way of knowing that land was yours or anyone else’s. Not when I stopped there in the middle of the night.”
He frowned and turned his palms upward. “I’m afraid not, my dear. Were the other renters to discover I waived your charge, they would start expecting the same for all sorts of petty, trivial reasons. I have to hold you to the same rules I hold everyone else.”
“I see.” Vesper rose from her seat and gave him a curtsey. Holding herself together was clearly a struggle. “I will find someone in town who will purchase my wagon, and any other possessions I have that others might desire. Hopefully, all of my worldly possessions will amount to what I owe you. Thank-you for the meal, Mr. Blummonte.”
“That might not be necessary.” He smiled. “There are ways you can work off your debt.”
“There are?”
“Yes. Not all of them are pleasant, though.”
She was perking up. “Oh, that’s alright. I can do unpleasant work.”
“Can you? Because if you are willing, and I mean really willing, to do what I want, you could work off your debt tonight.”
Vespers face lit up. “Really? So, as soon as I find my mule, I could be on my way again?”
Cecil nodded.
He was grinning. It wasn’t the friendly smile he used in public. No, it was a predatory smile. One that sat more naturally on his face. One women saw only when he was using and abusing them.
“Come, have a seat.” He patted his knee.
“Oh. Umm, okay.” Vesper crossed the room and sat on his knee.
How he loved her. Her confused look suggested an innocent ignorance to what he was doing. It was going to be such fun opening her eyes to the pleasures of the flesh. And that body, those large breasts, that round bottom, separated by such a narrow waist, he wouldn’t let her go. No. Never. He’d pay to have her wagon moved to and dumped in the next town so everyone would think she’d found her mule and left. Then he could do whatever he wanted with her.
Forever.
Cecil’s hand rested gently on the small of her back. Then it slid down.
“Oh, um, Mr. Blummonte, I’m not that kind of girl…”
“Of course you are.” He hissed, his free hand groping the bulge in his trousers. “Every girl is, when they’re in debt. And you’re in debt, Vesper. A lot of it. Now, face me.”
She slowly spun around on his leg, stopping when her knees were together near his groping hand and throbbing erection. She looked off to the side.
“I- I can cook and clean. And I can sew!”
“Undo your dress.”
She did as he asked, her fingers trembling at each button. “And I’m not adverse to physical labour, if it’s required of me. I can push and pull and shovel.”
The blue-black garment was undone to her waist, where her pale green belt held it closed. No matter, the soft white fabric of her undershirt was laid bare. How it struggled against her considerable bust.
“Put your hands above your head.”
She raised her arms up, bending them so each hand could hold the opposite elbow. Cecil’s own hands then leapt into action, grabbing and fondling her chest. So soft! So big! So sexy and vulgar on a girl so innocent and pure! She was everything a man like him wanted a woman to be.
Vesper was breathing heavily. Her cheeks were flushed.
“Look at me.” He said while pinching her through her undergarment.
Slowly, her face turned to his. She brought her arms down and rested them across his shoulders, her hands behind his neck. There! Right there! Past the innocent confusion, there was defiance! Yes! A little bit of resistance was the spice of lust. A man couldn’t properly break a woman unless she fought back in some way or another.
His fingers pulled at the ties holding her clothes to her body. He needed to see her. To feel her skin. He would start with her chest. Yes. All over her chest. Then he’d let her think that was it, that she had paid off her debt and was free! Oh, the look of betrayal she would give him when she learned her ass was next…
“Vesper.” Cecil muttered through his own heavy breathing. “Have you ever been with a man?”
She looked as though she was about to cry.
And then she smiled.
A lance of fire shot down through Cecil’s neck before striking his heart and exploding. Fire. That was all he knew. A searing heat that overwhelmed the senses. Every muscle in his body tensed. His vision went white. He thought for certain he had died.
Could that light be heaven?
Black spots appeared in the blinding light. They grew in number and size until only darkness remained. Somewhere, both very near and so very far away, someone was speaking.
“No, Mr. Blummonte, I have never been with a man. Not yet.”
xxxxx
The all consuming darkness eventually started to fade into black shapes moving against a black world. All the same, but somehow distinct. In time, Cecil rediscovered shades of grey so deep they could only be seen for what they were when held against that infinite black.
His body ached. He could feel again.
Colours! Brilliant blues and greens smeared against the darkness! And… And orange!
His thoughts turned to the girl with orange hair, Vesper. He was… what was he going to do with her? Right. Right! He was going to do all the things he’d always wanted to do to an innocent young woman. Vile things that would get him killed by the townsfolk if they knew. But they wouldn’t know. Because Vesper wasn’t one of them. She was all alone in the world. So sweet. So vulnerable.
Cecil groaned. Then he blinked and blinked and blinked until he could finally see clearly.
He was laying naked in bed. The bedcurtains were pulled all the way back. Looking across the room, he could see the night sky through his window. A full moon poured light into his dimly lit home, brighter than the candles by his bedside. Something was standing against the wall by the window, something so large and so dark it was like a hole in the world.
“Ugh, what… Vesper?”
What happened? Cecil tried to sit up, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t! Panic set in. His limbs were numb. He couldn’t move them.
“Vesper? What happened? What’s going on?”
Cecil could still use his neck and spine and, just barely, his shoulders. He managed to worm his way up his pillow. Once propped up, he could better look down along his body.
“What did you do to me?”
There were holes in his body. One in each shoulder. One in each hip. They weren’t large, but the flesh around them was swollen. Blood and something black as ink dribbled from each.
What happened?
He was with Vesper. And then he was seducing her. She was receptive, that was good. And then her arms were on his shoulders, her hands were behind his neck… and then there was fire in his neck.
“You bitch!” He snarled. “Fucking harlot! I’m going to have you in chains for this. No one is going to save you from me!”
“No one is going to save you from me.” Said something from the darkness by the window. The words came as a mixture of his own voice, Vespers, and something else that whined like a bow scraped across a violin.
The darkness moved. Blue and green shimmered across its surface. And orange! The hulking shadow moved into the silver moonlight and there she was… Vesper. For one moment Cecil forgot he had been poisoned and paralyzed.
Dear God, thank-you for Vesper!
The face of an angel on the body of a whore.
Vesper. Wavy orange hair, big eyes in the blues and greens of the sea, pouting pink lips… Her breasts were two perfect teardrops. Round, heavy, but still somehow pert and perky. Pink nipples as vulgar in their sexuality as the rest of her capped those glorious breasts. Her body narrowed to a waist so thin one would think she was wearing a corset, if she wasn’t nude. Further down… wide hips and juicy thighs framed a smooth, hairless, virgin flower.
Reality hit him like a slap in the face.
“Vesper!” He struggled, but his heavy limbs refused to move. “Get out. Get out now! If- Ah, the only way you’ll escape me is if you run away. Now! If you don’t, then the things I’m going to do to you-”
“Shhh.” Vesper held a finger to her lips. It was long and black and made from something hard. Her nail was thin and pointed like a needle. “Save your strength, Mr. Blummonte. You’ll need it.”
The young woman got closer and closer to the bed. Cecil couldn’t settle on where to look; her obscene body or the predatory smile on her lips. She crawled onto the bed and made her way up to his manhood on her hands and knees.
“Rrraaah!” Cecil lunged at her. All he managed to do was throw his head forward and bounce a little.
Vesper covered her mouth and giggled. “Oh, Mr. Blummonte, you won’t be able to move your limbs for hours and hours and hours. I’m afraid you might even soil yourself before you’re strong enough to get up and move.”
He tried again. The result was the same.
“Just lay there and enjoy it.” She said while laying down and putting her face next to his cock. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? A night with a beautiful virgin?”
It was. And it wasn’t. Cecil would prefer her to be the one trapped and panicking on his bed.
She held him against the side of her face, closed her eyes and smiled. “Mmm, I can feel your heartbeat. It’s so fast, Mr. Blummonte. But, why aren’t you hard? The girl of your dreams is naked in your bed and you’re as soft as an old man.”
“Vesper. Don’t- you-” He was looking around. There must have been something he could do. Anything!
“I know just the thing to get you ready.”
She grabbed his balls and the base of his shaft and, leaning in, slurped the tip of his cock into her pretty mouth. Then Vesper held up her finger – that long, black, needle tipped digit – and slowly moved it down between his legs. He felt a sharp pinch in his taint. And then fire. Fire! A wave of heat crashed over his balls and flowed up his shaft.
Vesper’s eyes went wide. She choked and gagged, but held herself there, letting him grow hard in her mouth. Cecil could feel himself throbbing against the back of her throat before she pulled back.
“Ah! Oh, Mr. Blummonte, you’re so big and hard!”
“V- Vesper!” Cecil could only gasp.
He was big. He was hard. He was throbbing. Veins pulsed along the sides of his cock. His skin was red and purple. It hurt. Oh god, it hurt! How could an erection be so strong as to hurt?
The orange haired girl gave his swollen tip a wet, sloppy kiss. Then she crawled up Cecil’s body and kissed his lips. He tried to turn away, but he was helpless.
“Mwah! Oh, Mr. Blummonte, I’ve never kissed a man before. Is that how it’s done? And I’ve never been with a man before, either. Will you teach me? Will you show me all the ways a man and a woman can sin together? Will you corrupt my sweet, innocent mind?”
She leaned back and the splendor of her breasts almost washed away the horror of what was happening. Almost.
“Wait!” Cecil had moved onto pleading. “Wait, just. Not like this. Your first time should be, uh, romantic. And gentle. I wouldn’t want a night like this to be your first taste of… of love making. I can set something up, something special for your first time, but for now you should leave.”
The girl leaned forward and ran her tongue up the side of his face. “I’ll leave when you pump my innocent womb full of seed, Mr. Blummonte. We aren’t making love tonight. We’re fucking like animals.”
Vesper reached down between them and found Cecil’s painfully hard cock. Then she guided it to her womanhood, and then she sat back down. She was so sopping wet he slid right into her. So soft her body could have been lined with the finest silk. So tight he could pressure at every point around his cock. So hot he forgot about the burning in his own throbbing veins.
Cecil was left in awe.
“Ahh! Oh, this is simply wonderful! If I knew this felt so good, I’d have fucked you a week ago!”
A week? She’d only just arrived a few days earlier. But that wasn’t the first time he saw her. No. That dream. That night we woke in a cold sweat after seeing her fall into the sky…
“Stretch out my virgin pussy with your big, manly cock!” Vesper was bouncing on his lap. Her perfect tits shook up and down in time with her chants of “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“Vesper. I’m- I’m-!”
Cecil wanted to. He had to! It was all too much! His swollen balls churned with seed, but his erection! Dear God, he was so hard his own flesh was squeezing him closed. He couldn’t cum!
“More. Oh, how I want more.” Vesper lifted herself into a squat with her hands on his shoulders and her feet on either side of his belly. Then she started impaling herself on his manhood with greater and greater force. His bed creaked and groaned with each slam of her pelvis into his. “You- You wanted to crush my little flower, right? That’s what men like you do to girls like me? Ruin us? Ah! Ah! Yes!”
Cecil grit his teeth, turned his head away and closed his eyes. There was no helping it. No stopping it. All he could do was try to endure. To let it happen and hope that maybe, just maybe, it would be over soon.
“Ugh! Oh, Cecil!”
She’d never said his name before. Not since he saw her in his dream. It was enough to open his eyes.
He slammed them shut again.
“No. No. No. No. No.”
It was only a glimpse. But that glimpse was too much. Vesper wasn’t a girl. What Cecil saw was a hard body of midnight black. Where it was touched by the light, it shimmered like the sea in blues and greens. And the orange. Hair? No. Two rust coloured sheets of something like skin sprouting from her shoulders.
As horrible as all that was, it was her face that haunted him. Behind closed eyes, he could still see it. Burned into his memory. Bulbous. Grotesque. Was there enough drink in all the world to forget that inhuman face?
Cecil whimpered. “Oh God, please, if you’re listening, please let this nightmare end. I’m sorry for any wrong I might have done. I- I’ll give money to the church. Please, please, God…”
“Ha. Haha. Ugh, I love it when you pray.” Her voice was wrong. It was Vesper, but the shrill cut of bow against violin had returned. “Ah! Ah! Ah! Your cock is so good, Mr. Blummonte. No wonder all the young ladies secretly want you, even when they say they don’t. That’s what you believe, right? What you want to be true?”
“No more. Please, no! No!”
“I don’t care much for that word, Cecil.” His own voice was added to the choir of her speech.
Long, hard fingers wrapped around his neck and squeezed. Cecil could feel his blood struggle to slip past that iron grip. Wet heat and sliding pressure stroked another orgasm from his unwilling body. “Hrg!” Cecil tensed as he tried to cum again. Still, nothing could escape such a painfully full erection.
His second orgasm wasn’t his last. Neither was his third. Or his fourth. Five times. Cecil hadn’t ever cum five times in one night. Not even as a young man. And it was on the fifth that he finally, finally, erupted inside of the most heavenly feeling pussy any man could ever know.
Cecil shuddered and gasped.
Vesper groaned and screamed.
Oh how it hurt. But at the same time, it felt so good. It wasn’t just the feeling of cumming, it was the release of all the tension in his lower body. A sudden draining of his swollen balls.
More than that, it meant the nightmare was over. He had no reason to believe she’d leave after he came. The thing that had been riding him for hours had no reason to be truthful. But still, he held on to that hope. It was all he had.
Suddenly, the pressure of her hard body against his was gone. Cold air chilled his still stiff pole and sent a shiver up his spine. Cecil dared to open one eye.
Vesper was young and beautiful again. She lay on her back on the foot of his bed, holding her knees up to her chest. Orange hair framed her innocent face. She was staring at him. Dear God, he could still see it behind his eyes. Every time he blinked, he saw her for what she truly was.
“P- Please. Just leave. Just go.” He muttered, eyes wide, tears streaking his cheeks.
“Hmm? Oh, I guess I should. I said I would, didn’t I?”
Vesper stood up and stretched. She was up on her toes. Her hands together, up and up and up. Seeing that body put on display like that should have driven him wild. Instead, he simply wanted to be rid of her.
“Before I go, Mr. Blummonte, there’s something I need to do.” She crawled back onto the bed. “You like to think you ruin women for other men, do you not? That when you’re done with them they can find no pleasure with anyone else? I like that idea.”
Her delicate fingers wrapped around the top half of his shaft. Then she squeezed. Then she jerked her wrist ninety degrees.
By the time Cecil finished screaming, Vesper was long gone.
xxxxx
It was a full day before Cecil Blummonte was strong enough to crawl from his bed to his pantry. There he ate raw vegetables and whatever fluids he could reach. It wasn’t until the following morning that his staff returned and found him in such a sorry state.
The first words he said when they helped him were, “I will ruin your lives if you tell anyone of this.”
Months passed and Cecil Blummonte was never quite the same.
He couldn’t get hard anymore. Which meant he couldn’t enjoy young women the way he used to. Cecil still tried other forms of cruelty in a desperate attempt to scratch that itch, to feel strong and dominant and in control of others, but nothing could wipe the shame of his broken manhood from his waking mind.
And nothing could wipe the image of Vesper from his sleeping mind. No drug. No amount of alcohol. No amount of prayer. When night came and Cecil closed his eyes, he fell into a world of nightmares.
Nightmares that chased him into the day. Only a few weeks after his night with Vesper, Cecil made a fool of himself in town. A flying insect landed on his hand while he collected rent and triggered something in his brain, some unstoppable fear that sent him running and screaming for his study. He rarely left after that.
Summer passed. Autumn passed. Winter blanketed the Earth.
Cecil didn’t leave his study. Not if he could help it. He ate at his desk. He slept in the chair by the fire. And always, always, he looked with fear towards the wall his study shared with his private chambers.
xxxxx
“Hrm? What?”
Cecil Blummonte shook himself awake. He was laying in his bed. The bedcurtains were drawn all the way back. The window was open. Silver moonlight poured into his home. By the window, there was a shadow darker than the rest. He knew this dream. He’d had it countless times before. But this was different. This was worse. In his dreams, he was nude and it was early summer outside the window, just as it had been that horrible night.
Now, though, only his shirt had been removed and it was the dead of winter.
“No. Wait, no! You said you’d leave!” He shivered uncontrollably. Swollen holes at his shoulders and hips dribbled a mixture of blood and something foul.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t be back.” Said the darkness, with two voices and a shrill chord.
Cecil struggled. His limbs wouldn’t move. He gasped. Then he cried and screamed, “Help! Help! Someone! Please, I need help!”
The shadow moved and Vesper stepped into the light of the moon. Young. Beautiful. And very naked. But there was something different. Her breasts were rounder. And her belly…
“Shh.” She held a black finger to her perfect pink lips, then she rubbed her round belly. She was nine months pregnant. “I can feel her squirming.”
“No. No! Please! Anyone!”
“No one is coming, Mr. Blummonte. Your staff is gone for the night. You live apart from everyone else. And even if they did hear, do you think anyone from the town would come and help you? Or would they just sleep tight, knowing something bad is happening to a bad man?”
“Vesper, please. I’ve… I’ve turned my life around. I gave some money to the church. I didn’t raise anyone’s rent. I- I don’t run around with young women anymore.”
“I don’t care about any of that. I’m not some karmic being here to punish you for your misdeeds.”
He was crying. “What are you, then?”
“I’m a mother. All I care about is taking care of my daughter. Our daughter.”
“Our-?” He shook his head. “No. Just take some money and leave.”
“I’m not here for money.”
Vesper crawled onto the bed, then got up into a squat above his stomach. Her belly! Oh God, her belly! He could see something writhe beneath her skin. She leaned back, balancing herself on her hands, displaying her womanhood to the man who’d impregnated her.
“I’m here to give birth, Mr. Blummonte. To bring my daughter into the world. To let her meet her father, if only one time. To make sure she gets the best start to life possible.” Her face was red. She closed her eyes. “Oh, oh she’s almost here. Cecil. Cecil!”
She shook. She cried. She screamed.
Cecil watched as her once pristine flower parted. It was… No, it wasn’t…
He closed his eyes and looked away.
“No. No. God, please, no.”
“Ugh, Cecil! Keep praying. I like that. That’s helping, that’s really helping me- Ahh!” She suddenly got louder. “AHH!”
Vesper groaned and heaved and gasped and something heavy, hot, and wet fell onto Cecil’s stomach.
“Ohhh, ohh, yes. Oh, that’s… Oh my, you have no idea what a relief that is…”
The thing moved a little on its own, but stayed where it was. Cecil didn’t want to look, but he had to. He had to! One eye opened, then the other. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked in confusion at what she’d birthed on top of him.
“What’s… you said you were having a daughter… this…”
It was round and off white and covered in a sticky yellow slime. The thing was also clearly soft. Something moved around inside it, pushing against its walls. Vesper sat down between Cecil’s legs and gently caressed the disgusting thing between them.
“This is an egg, silly.”
“An… what?” Cecil had never before seen an egg not laid by chicken. “An egg?”
Vesper nodded with a prideful smile painted across her face. “Yup. An egg. Our egg. It’s going to hatch soon. And do you know what our daughter is going to do when she comes out?”
Cecil continued to stare in horrified confusion. Eventually, he managed a quick shake of his head.
“She’s going to be cold. So very cold. So she’s going to burrow, Cecil. Right into the warmest thing around.”
“No. No!” He tried to move. To fight. To run. But all he could manage was to shake side to side. Even that wasn’t enough to remove that vile egg.
“And she’s going to be hungry. She’ll start with the unimportant bits in your stomach before moving up to the more vital organs. When she’s had her fill and you’re all hollowed out, she’s going to sleep and grow. And then, in a few days, I’ll reach up inside you and pull out a beautiful baby girl.”
Cecil was driven to madness.
His teeth were clenched so hard his gums bled. He shook side to side. Rocked back and forth. He tried, tried, tried!
Vesper got off the bed and returned to the shadow by the window. “I think I’m going to name her Cecelia.”
The egg squirmed. Then it split. Its thin, rubbery shell peeled down as the thing inside unrolled itself on his stomach. A baby’s face whimpered. A fat, white, segmented body throbbed. Cecil’s daughter was a human maggot the size of a newborn. The baby opened its mouth and cried and cried and cried. A pair of jagged black mandibles unfolded from within the newborn’s mouth as it wailed against the chill in the air. Cecil screamed along with it.
Then, Cecelia Blummonte took her first bite.
THE END