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I Surrender to the Spirit of the Night

Novel By: Dante Mendoza
Erotica



Twenty one year old Greek American Terasita Orestiada "Tera O for short" is a psychology grad student who reluctantly accepts a semester study program in the small town of Moroni, Oregon in the field of parapsychology. As she is placed in a ghost hunting expedition at the Worth Bed and Breakfast Inn, Tera tries to prove that ghostly phenomenon is simply the work of a troubled mind. However things start to become complicated when she begins experiencing several apparitional visitors in the forms of four randy, virile male spirits. Also adding her problems is the fact that she is hiding her psychic abilties which poses a threat to a dark, evil force that has ties to the past. Can this virtuous college student finally accept her mystical gifts and stop this supernatural threat while trying to comprehend her growing feelings for each of her ghostly male suitors? Find out in this erotic, paranormal tale! View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Submitted:Dec 20, 2012    Reads: 1,457    Comments: 1    Likes: 4   


"The darkness is my lover

And nights of pleasure

So I surrender to the spirit of the night"

-Samantha Fox

PROLOGUE

Ya Ya Dita always said I had the gift. I never understood what she meant until the day I began to see things that weren't there. Some called them ghosts, spirits, or apparitions. I called them people and other times, friends.

With the exception of Ya Ya, I never told anyone. Growing up, all the kids and even the neighbors looked at me funny like some sort of freak which made me the social pariah of my community. I did not have many friends back and by the time I entered high school, my close connection with the dead left me with none. I often sat alone at lunch secretly conversing with members of the afterlife hoping to gain some insight into what happens when we die.

It was a fruitless effort through. None of these so called ghostly visitors ever provided me with answers only cryptic clues and the realization that we are not alone in this world. In frustration, I've learned to block them out, ignore their pleas for help and live a normal life. Preventive medication also to aided in my hallucinogenic visions and I've learned that these haunting apparitions were simply figments of my troubled imagination. I guess that is why I developed an interest in a psychology and the effects that one's mind plays on the human condition and body. At an early age, I knew that it would be my chosen career path.

For a while, the ghostly visits stopped which kept me relieved at the opportunity for some normalcy in my life. However where the sight of apparitions ended, the visions of both the past and future began. Prophetic dreams. Bizarre images and all too real scenarios began to enter my thoughts when I slept forcing me to live another life in another time…

It is 1850 and I'm blonde. I can tell by the light hue of long curls falling to my shoulders covering the barely there, tight corset that I'm wearing. I can feel my back press against a wooden rack as my wrist and ankles are chained to the post preventing me from escaping each time I struggled. I am helpless as a captive and fearful of the terrible fate that is to befall me. I hear my pulse race with, sweat pouring down my forehead as I pray to God for His guidance and wisdom to help through this ordeal. Yet, I knew that my prayers would never be answered.

My eyes glance around the room. It appears I'm in a dark cellar or basement of some kind. Wooden planks cover the ceilings as several lanterns are strategically placed around the room where several lit candles surround a concrete altar with a carved triangle and cross appear on the stone slab. It is then that my vision observes a naked, male figure positioned in a spread-eagled formation while his hands and legs are tied down with thick rope. He struggles with his binds but is powerless as our captors will soon show us no mercy.

Tears immediately fill my eyes as I feel sorrow pierce my insides. At first I don't understand these strange emotions welling up inside me. Then it finally dawns on me. I love this man. I soak in the stranger's appearance from the reddish copper skin, his dark eyes and long black hair. Exotic features form around his well-structured face examining every inch of his perfectly symmetrical pointed nose, the cleft in his chin, and square jaw. It is then that I realize that he is Native American. A rustling of noise captures my attention as a small group of male and female nude bodies in hoods descend down the stairs led by a beautiful auburn haired woman with brown eyes. Her attention focuses on the native prisoner.

"Hawke Rainwater!" She cackled. "I see you're now awake!"

"Let Mabel go, you bitch!" He hissed. The naked stranger tugs at the tight rope around his limbs until he finally stops to sneer at the woman.

The woman releases a smirk before sliding a finger across her captive's muscular chest. Trailing the digit over each amazing curve of tanned pectorals and perfect areolas, she made her way down the hard ridges of his abdomen and planted a kiss on his navel.

"Mmmmm," she purred. "I can see why Mabel fell in love with you." Her eyes directed her attention toward me. "You're absolutely magnificent. Isn't that right, Mabel?"

She focuses her attention toward me and my mouth drops. This woman, this body, this person I inhabit is named Mabel and she is holding me and the other man named Hawke prisoner. Fear starts to creep up my spine. This strange woman means to do us harm and I can sense the wickedness in her body. My wrists tug at the manacles again but it is no use. I can't get free.

Dark eyes shift toward me coming from the handsome Hawke Rainwater. I can read the hurt expression in his eyes. Agony. Sorrow. Forgiveness. Love. I inhaled a breath, gulp down my fear, and finally speak the words.

"I forgive you, Hawke!" I tell him. "I love you!"

"I love you too, Mabel." The handsome Native American gentleman tells me. A hurt expression displays on his face. "I'm sorry."

The evil woman smirks. Tossing her auburn hair with her hands, she folds her arms before shooting a glance toward me then to her captive.

"Love," she cackles. "How touching. It's too bad that love can't help you in this case."

Hawke pulls at the ropes. The ropes burn his skin making scarlet welts until finally the flesh breaks and small droplets of blood slide down his arms. I know he feels pain. I can sense it but even that does not stop him as he struggles to break his binds. He spits into his naked captive's face to which she remains unfazed by the assault and simply wipes away the saliva from her cheek.

He hisses. "What do you know about love, witch. You have no heart?"

"Love is for the weak and powerless," she grins. "Strength is measured by power." Her brown eyes stare at me. "And I want HER power."

"ASTRID!" Hawke screeches.

I finally know our captor's name. It is Astrid. Gesturing a hand to the back of the crowd, Astrid calls forth a naked, cloaked, full figured woman who nervously approaches. Cellulite and wrinkles surround the strange female's body as her long silver hair comes down her sloping breasts like straw from a haystack. Casting her eyes down, she bows before Astrid before getting up to receive her orders.

"CHLOE!" Astrid screams.

"Yes, Mistress," the frightened older woman obeys.

Astrid reaches into her cloak and removes an ornate shaped dagger and places it into her minion's wrinkled hands. "Please make the symbol on Miss Adamson's chest there! Right between her breasts would be nice." She laughs wickedly as she points to me.

I turn to Hawke whose eyes widen in fear. Small tears streak and I feel my heart pine for him. He struggles while protesting.

"NOOOO! ASTRID! STOP!"

The auburn haired woman laughs again and slaps his face hard. "QUIET SHEEP!"

Sensing the fear inside me, I attempt to break my manacles but realize that my efforts are futile. The older woman named Chloe sadly walks up to me with knife in hand and points it toward my chest just above my chest right in between my breasts. Pointing the tip near my skin, she hesitates before whispering to me.

"I'm sorry Mabel," she tells me. "I have no choice. You were one of my favorite working girls."

Astrid screeches. "CHLOE! CUT HER NOW!"

Though brutal the attack, the carving is quick. The first four cuts still hurt like hell. I felt the knick of the blade barely burn my skin where Chloe made the small diamond shaped pattern on my chest. Biting my lip, I felt the last two slashes which formed a small cross across the already bleeding wound. I screamed as droplets of scarlet strained my corset and my skin enflamed with cruel agony. With the mark now set in place, the older woman back away with the bloody dagger and returned to her peers.

Smiling at me with her cruelty, Astrid grabbed the knife from Chloe and laughed. Hawke's face exhibited with pain at my torture. Fighting through the searing heat of my wound, I rapidly inhaled a breath while secretly praying for an end to this madness.

"LET HER GO!" Hawke pleaded.

Grinning with such heartless evil, Astrid straddled the Native American and placed the bloody dagger to his side. Undeterred by his restraints, the copper skinned man fought against the ropes causing more of his skin to bleed underneath his bindings.

The auburn haired woman scanned her captive, touched his muscular chest with her hand, and began to stroke her fingers down the well-formed ridges of his abdomen. Smiling at her prisoner, she shifted her gaze to her servants and barked her instructions.

"Time for the ritual," Astrid giggled. "Everyone! Remove your cloaks and fuck!"

I observed in both disgust and amazement as each of the minions obeyed their mistress. Long pieces of material was discarded and thrown about while all types of body shapes big and small began to participate in a cluster of sinful activities. Breasts were suckled. Mouths and tongues were explored. Bodies connected in various illicit ways as every orifice was filled, every position exhibited, and every profane fetish carried out right in front of me. Turning my head away, I tried not to look but instead my eyes focused on only one pair.

Hawke and Astrid.

Observing the man, I can tell he hated being touched by the woman. Forcing his thighs apart, the auburn haired woman grabbed his limp cock in between her hand and began to stroke it. Hawke's eyes displayed with hatred as him mind fought off her advances but his body willingly submitted to her whims. Descended her mouth upon his shaft, she licked and kissed his sex until it finally grew hard inside her lips before her tongue coated his enormous flesh with her saliva.

"It seems Hawke that you willing to give yourself to me," she smiled.

"I HATE YOU!" He hissed.

"Good," she grimaced.

Returning her mouth to his shaft, her lips sucked on his cock, slurping it up in a rapid pace before allowing it to escape her mouth. Teasing the flesh with her tongue before kissing it again, she gripped his sex and stroked it until remained hard and ready for the next phase of her plan. Hawke cursed himself for his body giving in to her as he gritted his teeth while she slowly straddled his thighs.

"GET OFF ME!" The Native American man demanded.

"Not until I'm through lover!" Astrid grinned.

Wrapping her hand around his hard cock, she pressed the head near the entrance of her pussy and slowly impaled her body along the copper colored shaft. Hawke's sex disappeared inside her as the folds of her slit separated and easily adjusted to the reluctant invasion. Rotating her hips, Astrid placed both her hands against the Native American's chest and lowered her head to plant a kiss on his lips. Hawke's eyes grew cold despite the face his body responded to the evil woman willingly.

"Mmmm…your cock feels wonderful indian!" Astrid groaned. "No wonder Mabel couldn't keep her hands off you!"

Gritting his teeth, the Native American turned his face away to look at me as a small tear streaked down his cheek. He cursed the auburn haired woman.

"GET OFF ME YOU WHORE!"

"You say that now," teased the evil female. "But your body says otherwise."

Gliding her hips up and down his shaft, Astrid's pussy entered and withdrew until finally she shut her eyes signaling to everyone in the room that her climax was about to be achieved. Grinding another stroke of Hawke's hard flesh, she tossed her head back and screamed.

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming! AAAAAHHHH!"

I witnessed Hawke biting his lip in disgust drawing a bit of blood as a splash of wetness dripped from Astrid's pussy. Then with quick hands, the auburn haired woman grabbed the bloody dagger by his side, raised it up in the air, and brought it down on the Native American's chest. My worst fears came true as Hawke screamed as a pool of scarlet splattered everywhere and his dark eyes showed nothing but darkness. I felt my heart ripped open as I watched the man that I love die in front of me.

Bizarre light surrounded the altar as it coiled into small glowing tendrils, entwined around the two naked bodies on the slab, and wrap around Astrid in big cocoon. Raising her arms in the air, she pointed the bloody dagger high and celebrated.

"I FEEL IT! I FEEL IT!" She cackled. "I FEEL THE POWER FLOWING THROUGH ME!"

Still engaged in their decadent orgy, her minions continued to fuck like wild animals as the glowing light grew brighter in the room. I could feel my own strength leaving me as I looked down to see the bloody symbol on my chest growing as well. My legs felt week and my arms grew heavy beneath my manacles while my eyes struggled to stay awake. Managing to lift my head, I observed Astrid rotating the bloody dagger in the air as she still straddled my dead lover.

"GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE ME ALL THE POWER!" She screeched.

Anger bubbled up inside me. I could feel the rage, the fire, the burning inside me. This evil woman defiled the man I love and murdered him in cold blood. I wanted vengeance. I wanted this woman to die. Forcing my eyes awake, I stared at the lit candles and the lanterns overhead. I felt the fire flick and dance against the wick. I wanted them to dance even more. The flames grew bigger, then larger until it burst into one huge fireball streaking across the room and lighting every corner into one enormous ember.

Seeing the flames, one of Astrid's minions screamed in mid-coitus. Then the fire darted across the room and covered the entrance of the stairs. Suddenly, a huge inferno surrounded the underground room. Naked peoples screamed as the smoke, flames, and ash covered everything. Astrid got off my dead lover and backed away as the flames licked her feet.

"This cannot be!" She screeched. "I was given the power! I am not the sacrifice!" She then turned to me and stared at me with rage. "You are!"

I smiled with my own wickedness. I feel the flames around me clay to where I could mold it, shape it, and direct it in any way I wanted. What I wanted at this moment was justice. The fire grew bigger as Astrid's naked minions trampled each other hoping to make their escape but I refused to let that happen. Painful heat scorched their bare flesh, cooking their skins like a roasted pig on a spit, as their screams of agony consumed them.

Astrid ignored the pleas of her foolish followers as she raced toward me with the bloody dagger in her hand. Her intent was murder me and strangely enough I was prepared to die.

"I KILL YOU BITCH!"

Lifting the blade up high, she plunged it into my chest as blood splattered everywhere and smoke blackened the burning room. I felt no pain but the metallic taste of crimson inside my mouth. My body started to leave me.

Laughing at her ridiculous folly, I managed to gasp my last few words.

Spitting blood on her face, I laughed. "Let's die together, witch!"

The flames rose as Astrid grew scared. The flames licked her feet. Raising her head to the ceiling, she screamed as the huge blaze engulfed. The inferno surrounding us finally exploded and all we saw in the end was nothing but complete blackness.

I woke up safe in my bed. The warm , quilted comforter drenched with sweat as my flannel pajamas soaked up my frightened perspiration. Outside, I head the patter of rain against my window as I turned my head to focus on the alarm clock on the nightstand beside my bed. It was only 3:30 in the morning.

Tossing my head back against my pillows, I grumbled.

No more late night snacks of hummus and pita bread before bedtime for me. It tends to give me nightmares.





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