Possession

POSSESSION

Nothing was a coincidence.  Life never presented such things, even in my meager experience.  A scapegoat to human nature, I guessed. 

So, I just want to be clear, okay?  I did know better than to let that cute guy talk me into accepting a ride from him.  However, my frayed brain and usual common sense were overruled by pure fatigue hand-in-hand with a charming and handsome stranger.  He could have been a customer from the dive bar I worked in six days a week at the crossroads of nowhere and a few corn and soybean fields. 

After a while, all the men in dusty boots and worked-in denim looked the same, yet there was something familiar about this guy’s eyes.  They were an odd in-between of emerald or sapphire as if they couldn’t make up their mind which jewel-color they preferred, but no less dazzling in how they caught the light of the dashboard. 

Regardless, Mama warned me never to trust a bodily response of attraction, particularly if you were impaired.  Such things could blind you to the truth of a situation and lead you astray.  Now was the worst time for me to choose not to listen to Mama’s wisdom. 

Fool!

“Come on, sweet thang,” the cutie coerced with the friendly flash of his grin.  “It’s a long walk to the next town, and it’s after three in the morning.  Let me help you out with a lift.”

His plain white passenger van slowed down at the pace I walked on the edge of the road and line of grass.  I’d made it maybe two miles from County Road 25, where I broke down and traveled east on Devils Hole Road, which was halfway between Loki’s Pub where I worked and the tiny town of Sugar Ridge where I lived.  My damn LG phone had not been charging in the car as I hoped. 

Another stupid mistake!  Ugh! 

The other problem faced was the late hour, as the stranger pointed out.  No other vehicles passed me in the last 30 minutes.  There weren’t any houses where I could ask to use a phone even if I thought someone would answer their door to some sketchy young brunette like me at such an ungodly time of the morning.  With no battery life and no transportation, my choices were limited. 

On my feet for the last 13 hours while being smacked on the ass and pawed at by drunk farmers and factory workers, was exhausting work, yet the tips made it tolerable during the lunch rush, dinner time and the peak after-hours periods.  It paid the bills better than the previous waitressing job at Shorty’s Diner I started at 16.  Since leaving the restaurant in Michigan, I earned my GED and moved out on my own, ending up no further than Ohio. 

Without further delay, I decided to hoof it home.  I’ve done it before and was sure to do it again until I could afford a newer car without 258,000 miles on it.  At my apartment was a futon calling my name as well as a phone charger that operated properly.  I could call my favorite mechanic (who I bought the car from) and see if he could pick up my POS and repair it for the third time in six months while letting me borrow a loaner so I could get back and forth to work if he couldn’t fix it in one day.  He reminded me of my Paw-paw and was exceptionally nicer to me than his grandkids.  I would take whatever advantage I could get at this point.

The radiant sliver of the waxing crescent moon shined high at one point, hadn’t it?  So wrapped up in my tattered thoughts, I didn’t realize how pitch black it was.  I barely saw my feet stepping in front of me.  A rumble of thunder sounded close from the west with the flash of lightning.  I jogged while pulling my sweater closer. 

I’d worked two shifts at Loki’s Pub for a little extra cash but was dead on my feet.  Noreen, the owner and cook, felt sorry for me and threw in some additional tips.  The good thing was that I didn’t have far to go by car.  The bad thing was that I didn’t feel so good today besides being worn-out waiting tables and tending bar.  For most of the day, my head pounded as if someone used it for a snare drum in a marching band.

“Come on,” he coaxed with the inviting wave of his hand.  “Hop in.  I swear I won’t bite.”

I slowed my jogging to walking before halting and staring at the guy with amazing eyes.  The rumble of thunder sounded close.  The smell of moisture filled my nostrils, announcing what was about to happen.  I put my hand on the handle of the passenger side door and opened it.  A waft of smoke billowed out of the cab.  I coughed and waved my hand before my nose and mouth.  Cigarettes always turned me off, but he smoked cigars, which were ten times worse in how the odor curled my nose hairs and made me hack a lung.  The man grounded out the lit dark stick he just puffed.

“Sorry, sweet thang.”  He popped some gum in his mouth and began chewing with his grin.  “I know my cigs aren’t for everyone.”  The guy chuckled with amusement and waved at me again.  “Come on in.  It’s okay.  Come.”

When the first of the raindrops pelted in fat droplets, they were more the motivator for me to accept the stranger’s invitation.  I slid into the offered seat, which was comfortable as if made for me.  Once I slammed the door closed, he rolled up the window.  The rain poured with intensity in the following seconds, thus hindering visibility.  The vehicle crept forward. 

I was glad not to be caught in the downpour that rocked the van.  However, I couldn't seem to override the unease seizing my gut.  My arms folded around me as I shivered with the fine hairs on my arms standing on end.  The stranger turned on the heater for me, but such efforts could not help this chill of mine. 

Accepting rides from unknown people was imprudent; I knew that but sensed no threat in van guy’s grin or in his bright blue-green eyes.  A gentleman was all he was for sure.  I gave him a side glance and realized that no, that wasn’t all he was. 

The stranger was a big man, filled out his faded jeans with tight cords of muscles that ran up the expanse of his fit chest.  The guy donned a red T-shirt with the black lettering spelling “Bat Outta Hell.”  He definitely exercised daily, but I wouldn’t have imagined him to be the sort of man to listen to Meatloaf, who was crooning at low volume over the van speakers. 

“I’ve seen you around Loki’s right?” the stranger inquired while taking a generous sip from a dark brew steaming from his Styrofoam cup.

My eyebrow lifted because I’d just been thinking about that.  “Yeah, maybe.  Why?”

He shrugged his big shoulders.  “Just making conversation.”

A lie.  Later, the stranger would chat away, telling me that he’d been watching me much closer.  For the last six months, to be exact, he discovered a lot about me.  He knew where I lived.  Apartment 204 on Long Road near the train tracks he was able to recite from memory.  The guy also discovered that I liked to shop at the grocery in Bowling Green every Monday on my day off.  The bar wasn’t open then when I always walked to the Circle K gas station not far from my house to have a coffee.  While enjoying the small luxury, I sat on my little balcony and read a book I checked out of the library. 

This stranger learned every move I made, so it seemed.  He’d been following me everywhere.  At the back of my mind, I thought that he looked familiar because of the customers I served at Loki’s.  No.  I should have dug a little deeper to realize that I caught glimpses of this guy in other places I traveled apart from work, but I was too pooped to bother with that coincidence at the moment.  Now, I wished I had taken precautions.  If only… 

The guy turned on that friendly grin again and rubbed a hand through finger-length hair covered in warm blond highlights.  Damn, he was attractive up-close.  Smelled good as well.  If warning bells rang, they muted at my hearing.  My loins were unused for several months since Austin and I broke it off when he moved away to go to grad school in Washington.  They tingled at the thought of this hunk of masculinity driving the van, putting to good use that equipment he honed.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” the stranger suggested with a glance at me with both hands on the steering wheel.

I shook my head, feeling my auburn ponytail bobbing from side to side.  “No.”  The index finger of my right hand pointed down the lonely road I traversed rain or shine.  “I’m not far from here.”

I memorized the way by Wood County State Park like the back of my hand.  Not much traffic by it was observed, especially tonight with the warning of flash floods.  Houses on one side of Mercer Road and Fuller Preserve on the other could not be seen.  Once or twice since arriving in Ohio, I explored the trails of both woodland areas that had meadows.  There wasn’t much to do, but I was okay with that. 

I never appreciated the big city life, like living near the college town of Ann Arbor.  Open spaces and being closer to nature held my preference.  That kind of existence had always been good to me and Mee-maw, who raised me after Mama died when I was eight.  I never knew my father.  Both Mama and Mee-maw never agreed on much except that Dad was no good.  He hustled meth, pot, and whatever else he could get his hands on.  Unfortunately, none of his schemes panned out. 

All of this was true, considering the Michigan Correctional Facility remained a revolving door for Dad.  His last stint behind bars was set for the rest of his days.  A drug bust gone very wrong resulted in the murder of an undercover cop.  After a few years, someone shanked Dad in the kitchen where he worked, but no one saw how it happened.  It didn’t surprise anyone.  He was a colossal asshole.  At every opportunity, he dodged his child support just as he avoided meeting me.  Not once had the man looked upon my face in the flesh. 

Despite the paternity test Mama got proving I was his daughter, Lou C. Furr denied my existence, so the story went.  I overheard the heated conversations that he and Mama had over the phone about me multiple times.  The sum of it?  A bad man to the core, he could not think of anyone beyond himself.  All his life, he had been selfish, uncaring, and greedy for a life beyond the trailer trash he came from.  Once I was old enough to understand this, I felt it was great that my father didn’t want any part of my life.  No remorse existed in my heart either about this deadbeat who helped in creating me.

It was hard to miss something you never had anyway.  My life was full and rich without him thanks to Mee-Maw and her steady lover I called Paw-paw, who lived in the trailer park next to ours.  None of us ever had much, yet we made it work.  Both were older folks living on a fixed income of social security and Medicare while looking after a little girl.  They had been factory workers for years working side by side until they retired from the hard labor that left them with almost crippling pain in their backs and knees. 

They showered all the love on me that they could.  I loved them in return just as much.  Having a clean bed to sleep in and a warm meal to eat on a daily basis was terrific.  Happily, I performed duties like assisting with cooking, making preserves in jars, and planting the garden each late spring.  They made these things fun, and I learned skills that would help me survive when I left home.

Every Sunday, I called them like I promised so that they wouldn’t worry.  I was grateful for the stability Mee-maw provided because up until Mama got sick, we moved around a lot.  I supposed the restlessness of Mama still lived in me because as soon as I made enough money, I was ready to forge ahead and find my own way in the world.

“I don’t mind helping out such a pretty little girl like you,” the stranger commented, barging into my thoughts. 

I gave myself a little shake from the past and stared into my present.  “Thanks, um, what do I call you?”

“Call me, Troy, little girl.”  He reached over me and clicked me into the seatbelt I failed to wear, for I don’t know how long.  I stiffened and blushed once I realized what he was doing.  His hand grazing my breast was more than brazen and made me very uncomfortable.

Troy coasted down the gravel road at a crawl because the hard rain continued beating on top of the van.  It rocked a little as well but stayed on its four wheels.  “Really, I could have—oh!”  I jumped when the thunder boomed with lightning that struck right in front of us.  The burst of light was so bright that I could have sworn for a split-second it was daylight. 

When he slammed on the breaks and my body braced against the seatbelt, I was thankful that Troy did what he had.  My hands gripped the front of the glove box.  I stared at him, wide-eyed when he resumed our movement forward.

“Safety first.”  Troy flipped the windshield wipers on the highest setting and continued with confidence.

My mouth went dry as alarms went off in my head.  It ached more in the fear that edged up my spine for reasons I could not turn off.  I’d been wrong before about my impressions.  I hoped that I was now about Troy’s intentions being anything but good-mannered.

Problems never ceased when it came to me.  Somehow the dark cloud over my life followed me into this moment with Troy.  The air felt heavy, lingering with the stench of nicotine, and something else.  I could not put my finger on it.  The sinister gleam that entered his bright blue-green eyes unnerved me.  His smile, though, remained friendly.  It said I could trust it, trust him.  A contrast I sought to believe and not the creepy suspicion that wormed its way into my consciousness. 

Troy flipped on his brights.  Nothing beyond the narrow beams of light outside seemed recognizable.  Water smeared the windshield like a dream sequence and thrust me into a foreign world.  The wind battered the rain against the van in sheets.  My unease increased.  We should have been near the bend in the road where we would need to turn.  Devils Hole would not be hindered by a stop sign or stoplight.  The road was remote and lightly used since the bypass on the state highway was built.

“Um, Troy?” I began tentatively.  “I think, uh, we should have turned into town back there.”

“Oh, yeah?”  He continued along the same path.  “How can you be sure?”

“We passed a big mailbox with a red tractor on it that belongs to the Crowley farm.  Spring Ridge Road is where we needed to turn before it.  I always know when I see that mailbox that I’ve gone too far.”

Troy nodded with a crooked smile.  “Very observant you are, aren’t you, little girl.”

I swallowed in a dry throat, not sure I liked him calling me a little girl since I was a woman over 21.  My eyebrows scrunched together as I thumbed out the passenger window.  “Um, you know what?  You can just pull over here, Troy.  I’m sure I, uh, can find my way—”

He cut in smoothly, “I won’t hear of it, sweet thang.  Yeah, not to worry.  We’ll get you right where you need to be.”

“No!”  I cleared my throat when his eyes widened.  “Um, I mean, no.  Please.  Thank you for everything, but, um, really, I can take it from here.  I swear.”

“It’s pouring down rain.”  His mouth reverted in a downturn, and his eyes turned mean fast.

“Stop!” I shouted and began tugging on the lock on the door and lever at once, but it wouldn’t budge.  “Let me out!  Let me—”

His fist flew at my temple, forcing my head into the glass window with a thud.  “Ahhh!”

The second time Troy rammed my head into the window, tears flooded my eyes in the starburst of light that stunned me as much as the crashing pain compounding through my head.  Immobilized, I struggled no longer as my body slumped against the seatbelt. 

“Ugh!” I groaned with a strike against something sharp sticking me in my left arm.  My hand was batted away as the prick lingered for a time. 

“There, there, little girl,” he purred in a soothing tone while stroking my hair.  “Troy here will be taking good care of you.  You’ll see.”

I tried to keep calm and not panic.  It was impossible as my breath escaped me in hurried pants.  The blood pulsed in my veins, running whatever junk Troy pumped into me.  My head felt weighted down by bricks with squeezing pressure. Whatever he drugged me with made things foggy.  I could not think straight or move now.  Trying to scream and struggle was useless.  My body refused to respond.  My breath through my slack mouth was rapid, and I heard my fearful heart pounding as loud as my head.  The need to get away was the last thing I recalled as I saw the wicked grin of a predator loom near. 

Awake now to surroundings that were not familiar, I attempted to shake off the panic driving my heart in a race.  I waited to discover the nature of my demise.  However, I’d seen movies like these.  I knew what was to come.  In real life, abductions of pretty loner girls like me never ended well.  No immediate friends lived close.  I drifted from place to place when the mood suited me. Whatever I was looking for, I hadn’t found yet, and I was okay with the adventure of the unknown in what I might discover in the next town that struck my fancy. 

I heard music muted in the distant dark.  No light shone where I laid naked unable to lift my limbs.  Heat and stagnant air filled the space that I could not distinguish much from the shadows.  Sweat poured from my body that was scented with rose oil, not something I used.  It reminded me of Mee-Maw.  I wished I was home with her now!

Footsteps creaked near, and overhead lights flicked on over me.  I squinted against the harshness of it until my eyes adjusted.  No windows were revealed; only shelves.  Lots of gray metal ones appeared sturdy.  Shiny things waited neatly on them.  Things I didn’t understand the purpose, a purpose though that escalated the fright already climbing in me.  I had no clear idea of how long I remained like this. 

A door across from the bed opened and clamped shut.  An impossibly big man stood there, leering at me through latex eyes.  It was shiny and black like crude oil with cutaways at some vital regions of his body.  I tried not to look at the length of girth that must have been his penis but could not bring myself in stark terror to look away from him. 

Something happened next that I never imagined.  A wand started erupting the silence with buzzing like a giant bee.  He strapped it on my clit.  When he retreated to watch in my shock, I never hated a man more.  For hours, the latex man watched for a while before he left me entirely to undergo the constant pulse of the vibrator that was plugged into a wall and receiving endless electrical current.  I could not escape it no matter how I wiggled. 

In the meantime, I braved a horrific yet sweetly forced torture.  Repeatedly, I reached a climax that drained me.  My muscles contracted, and I could not control them.  Pleasure flooded my head even as I grappled with my impending murder.  I panted, squirted, cried, and begged for it to stop.  Still, the device ushered my involuntary cumming, where I laid pooled in sweat.  At some point, I passed out completely overwhelmed and devoid of juices over the apparatus.  Fighting my bonds at my wrists and ankles, I could not find relief from the persistent clenching of my aching pussy.  I was weak from pleasure until it hurt.  Snot ran from my nose.  My voice became hoarse from my blubbering cries.

Latex man returned to watch my agony.  I withered in respite when he removed the device.  My taut nipples stood on end as he breathed over them, bathed in standing sweat.  No vibrator did I have then, but my pussy clenched painfully as I came from that act alone by him.  His latex finger coated with my juices replaced the device.  He pinched my clit as I cried and tried to scream.  I lost my voice.  My throat burned from screaming earlier, and I’m sure that I must have damaged my vocal cords.

Panting for breath, I felt the trace of his fingers, exploring my labia, and his tongue licked his fingers.  His tongue coasted inside me, exploring, and I came again, hard.  I suffered through the pain, but it was nothing like his huge latex cock.  The stranger started gradually with only the tip digging in me.  His hips worked in circles to stretch me right, but as I breathed harder at his effort, so did he.  He thrust in and out of me from where he stood, gripping my waist.  Latex man rocked the entire length of the latex cock between my thighs spread as wide as I could stand when I came heaving.  I must have fainted because everything was dark when I woke. 

Every part of me ached as I remembered how the creepy man used my body for his lust only after sending me into an overload of forced orgasms.  Tears sprang from my eyes without me noticing.  My heart was numb like my limbs felt from maintaining such a position of helplessness.  I hated that this evil man reduced me to an object for his depraved desires.

When more of the same happened, and the shock of his action wore off, I saw him for what he was.  His desperation to reach orgasm while exhausting himself with fucking hurt, but he gave me pleasure.  It was a pleasure I could not believe.  I tried not to want it, to crave his cock taking me places, I never realized existed.

What the fuck was wrong with me?  This bastard kidnapped me and fucked me until I passed out!  He took what he wanted from me while giving me pleasures I hated to want.  I hated myself for the moans I made and his response.

Troy left me only to return and wear me out.  Each time we began, I would be clean and smelling of rose oil.  The sheets I laid upon would smell laundered.  He continued to tie me up with rope to the bed.  My arms were over my head.  Spread wide for him were my bruised thighs where he could take what he craved.  Sometimes I would awake with him grunting and fucking me under the bright lights.  The last time though, there was no latex suit.  It was dark.  Skin on skin, he entered me slowly, mastering every sweet spot I had, making me tremble and beg for release.  He offered it to me as a gift to bring me along for the ride of my life. 

“Ooo, fuck!  I love fucking you!” he shouted when he came inside me.  I found my release with him.  He loosened my ropes and held me for a time in the afterglow.  When I faded to sleep in his arms and awoke later, I sobbed at the memory of how fucked up I was to want more of his offerings.  More of his tenderness.  More of his loving. 

A plan.  If I didn’t figure out one, I would never leave this place.  Instead, I would be his sex prisoner forever and the incubator for his seed that would take root in my young womb.  I comprehended myself very well.  What shred of sanity I hung on to would flee like my hope of freedom.  Never could I survive those terrors.

Too many days had gone by for me to know if anyone missed me.  Did Mee-maw and Paw-paw call the police?  Maybe.  And what would the authorities discover?  A girl who drifted from place to place and could have done that again?  How long would they look for me? 

The only door in my prison opened.  The harsh white light clicked on above.  I winced with a groan.  Troy stood before me, wearing a towel around his waist.  He dripped wet with whiffs of steam from his hot shower, I imagined.  My tormentor reached a hand down and squeezed my breast.  His thumbs flicked my hard little nipples. 

“Ahhh!” I gasped and squirmed but could not escape his touch.

Troy licked his lips as he stared into my eyes.  “Ooo, yes, little girl!  You want to fuck.”

His cock that only had been flaccid when he walked into the room was huge now while tenting the towel up.  Hunger filled his eyes as he looked me over and then kneeled between my thighs.  “What a juicy little cunt you have!”  His tongue lapped liberally at my pussy.  “Ooo, you taste so good!”

“Fuck me, Troy,” I whispered, for my voice had not recovered.  “And when you do, let me fuck you back.  Please.”

His grin faltered a moment as if he was confused.  He blinked at me in a study before he questioned, “You want to fuck me?”

My eyes never trailed away from his.  “I need to feel your big dick sliding into me again, making me cum as no one has ever before.  Make it rough.  Fuck me hard.  Please fuck me now.”

Troy needed no other invitation to tug off the towel and to climb on the bed with me.  Big hands clutched me around my neck.  The burning in my throat was an inferno now.  My eyes rolled in the back of my head as Troy choked the air out of me and raided my pussy the way he wanted.  The sounds dominating around the room were the bed knocking the wall and the squeaking of the springs in the effort of him pillaging my pussy for its treasure. 

When his grip loosened at my throat just before I lost consciousness, I groaned, “Let me fuck you.  Please, Troy.” 

Troy was not soft.  It seemed he never was when he raped me raw, but I tolerated him beating up my small walls because the bonus was that I liked it.  I loved his weight holding me down, the excitement that flooded my system, and then the pleasure of his cock pile-driving into me. 

Troy rebounded quickly at my words.  His eyes glittered with the exhilaration that I responded to him in such a way he must not have anticipated.  He untied my hands and legs.  For a moment, his teeth worried his lip as he contemplated what would happen next.  From beneath him, I gripped his muscular arms and my legs wrapped at his waist.  My pussy found his thick girth, and I fucked him as I said I wanted.  His grin returned full-blown while he howled on all fours.

My beast hungered from within as the moon grew full.  Its cycles, whether seen or not, couldn’t escape me.  It called to my blood like the lust that unfurled inside me.  I flipped Troy to his astonishment, straddled his narrow hips, and hammered my battered pussy on his jutting prick.  The sound that echoed the room was the repetitive smack of flesh.  The pain was nulled for the pleasure of rocking and rolling his cock inside, striking all the points that craved attention.

A clock struck twelve somewhere overhead, and the shifting began tingling along my slick skin.  The devil was free in the witching hour before three.  Leather wings expanded from my shoulders and back that grew broad and wide with my roar.  My legs snapped with my cry as they lengthened with talon toes that tapped on the floor.  In the place of my human pussy, a twelve-inch cock stabbed inside his ass as my claws for hands held his legs toward his chest. 

“Noooooooo!” Troy screamed with tears in his dread as he pissed himself.  He could not escape the beast he awakened. 

The fallen angel known as Morning Star possessed the body of the lost soul of Lou C. Furr and impregnated my mother on All Hallows’ Eve.  My true father, Master of the Deep, ruler of demons, was who I sought yet could not find as the thought returned fully to mind.  In my transformed state, while the human slept, I could reach him.  The trigger for the recovered memory was a worthy sacrifice.

Ahhhh!  So good not to hold back the demon who possessed me!  So good to make the predator bleed who would dare provoke me.  I am free to fuck, and to fucking up Troy as I promised to do.

I drilled his ass tirelessly until my demon seed exploded in his belly.  Staring at me in helpless horror, Troy gaped in paleness, his lifeforce fading into me.  I laughed as the floor shook and at how his flesh sizzled and shrank off his bones before burning to soot and ash.  Troy screamed and cried like a baby, begging for his life, and trying to fight.  It was too late.  In my demon form, I was too strong. 

The gate to hell was open as the flames caught everything around us, including the walls and ceiling of my prison.  Not me, of course.  I was flame retardant, but my fiery eyes were jubilant in the heat that consumed Troy’s soul.  Troy paid as he should for his heinous crimes committed against the innocent lives that he stole.

“Oh, there will be no escape for you in my father’s realm, you pitiful fool,” I announced to the lost spirit of Troy, who wailed for forgiveness he would never find.  “Your soul is mine!  So is your ass for me to use and bleed.  No one will care, least of all me, how you beg and plead.  So, in hell, you’ll stay, a gift to repay until Dad sees fit to release you on doomsday!”