A Helish Threesome

By | November 1, 2008

Hurld headlong flaming from th’ Ethereal Skie
With hideous ruine and combustion down
To bottomless perdition, there to dwell
In Adamantine Chains and penal Fire,
Paradise Lost, John Milton, 1667

When Peter and Kate eventually entered the kitchen, the other couples were already picking at the food as they carried it through to the dining room.

Emily was talking to Mark, next to the sink. She stopped short on seeing Kate, frozen by her stare. Mark raised a hand to her shoulder and said something, just too quite to hear. Emily drew close to Mark and laid her head on his shoulder, but did not take her eyes off Kate. Another few words from Mark and she began to help Charlotte transport the food.

Peter adopted his role as host, serving drinks. Seeing that Emily was distressed for some reason he crossed to Mark. They exchanged a few earnest words then both broke into smiles. Kate couldn’t quite hear what was said. “The horny bitch …”, “but you where down here?”, ” … you should see the scratches on her thigh, it must have been some dream.”

Kate found herself smiling, but not knowing why.

By ten to midnight the food had been transferred from the kitchen to the adjacent dining room. Music was playing quietly and the three couples huddled round the open fire in the huge hearth for warmth. A chill had entered the house, the cold become intense as midnight approached. Alcohol helped to keep out the cold but wasn’t raising the spirits as it should have done.

“Time for ghost stories.”, declared Peter, “Any volunteers?”. He looked at the assembled friends in turn. Mark shrugged, “Don’t look at me”. “I don’t have an imagination”, said Luke, grinning. Emily averted her gaze and snuggled deeper into Mark’s arms.

“I’ll start”, it was Kate.

Rain began to fall again as Kate settled on a small stool in front of the fire. Her audience of five friends arranged on an assortment of pillows and bed sheets in a semicircle around her.

“You know why this house is called Yew Tree Manor don’t you?”

“Because someone planted a bloody great yew in the back garden, perhaps?”

“Not quite, the tree was old before the house was here. Not this house, the original house. That was over 800 years ago. Some people still call yews the “eternity trees” you know. They grow for millennia.

“Nobody knows his name, but the builder was a local lord, an important noble, well connected, powerful, avaricious.

“He even had his own private army. Small but effective, nothing more than a group of tame thugs by today’s standards. But useful at the time for extracting higher and higher rents from tenant farmers.

“Since when were you the local historian? Or is this all fantasy?”, Asked Charlotte.

“It’s all true. He wasn’t always so wealthy though. Originally a charcoal burner in the forest, he cleared the land on this hilltop with his bare hands while plying his humble trade. You’d have thought the trees would have grown back but they never did. Funny that.” Kate smiled.

“One autumn evening he came back from the village and found a figure stooped over the stump of an old yew which he’d hewn and burnt only a few days earlier. Why did you cut it down?’, asked the figure. What business is it of yours?’, replied the woodsman. I planted it’. Rubbish, that was five hundred years old judging by the rings’.

“The figure stood up and threw back the hood of its cape. The hideous visage which confronted the woodsman froze the blood in his veins. This woman, if indeed she was a woman looked five, ten twenty centuries old. And yet her crystal blue eyes drew him towards her. His feet raised and fell of their own accord taking him into her, outstretched arms. You took my tree, now pay for it’, she screamed as her gnarled hands wrapped around his throat and took him for her own.

“They lay together that night, conceiving a daughter.”

“‘Lay together’, you’ve been reading romantic books again!”, smirked Luke. The icy stare Kate gave him wiped the smile from his face and made cold beads of sweat erupt from his neck.

“These things should not be forgotten!”, barked Kate.

“The woodsman and his new bride grew in power from that day. Seen by all as a beautiful young woman nobody suspected that his bride was neither mortal or benign. The yew tree sprouted anew and the old hall was built next to it.

“Until one day when the local abbot called to collect alms for the poor of the village. As he approached the hall he heard shouting, an argument between the Lord and his Lady. The daughter burst from the hall crying, and ran to the abbot’s arms.

“As he approached the door the abbot saw the Lord cowering before a dreadful apparition. He saw, unmasked, the Lady, the demon that had taken possession of the woodsman.

“The abbot ran to the village, gathered a mob and returned to the manner. The doors were barred and the windows blocked. The manor was burnt to the ground with the Lord and Lady screaming inside.

“So that’s alright then.”, said Peter, “I do like a happy ending.”

“They had a daughter. And this very night I remembered who I was. I remembered my mother’s screams!”, said Kate, her crystal blue eyes flaring as a lightening bolt struck the yew tree outside.

The shock from the lightening blew open a window with a roar. Emily screamed. The lights went out, leaving the room illuminated by the huge log fire.

Kate stood and unfurled her wings, her dress fell to the floor, she stood before them in the firelight. Breasts pert, nipples hard, pussy silvery wet. She pointed at Luke, then Mark. “You, and you, come here.”

Unable to refuse they took their places before Kate. Without a word of command they undressed, throwing their clothes aside. Kate pounced on Luke’s already proud member, licking and sucking. Despite himself, still terrified, Luke found himself moaning with pleasure.

“Fuck me damn you!”, commanded Kate, flashing a murderous gaze at Mark.

Luke fell to his knees, Kate’s mouth still wrapped around his cock. What was that licking at his member? Two tongues, or was it one split like a serpent? Luke knelt behind her, and slid himself into her greedy pussy. He was gripped by her, drawn in. As he thrust in and out, thrusting harder than he ever would have with Charlotte, he felt Kate’s pussy grip him. He could not have pulled out even if he had wanted to. And he didn’t want to.

Watched by their partners the carnal beast they created, bucked, groaned and fucked in the firelight. The partners could not move, transfixed by fear and drawn to the spectacle by the shear sexual power Kate had over her two men. They were her men, she possessed them, and they wanted to be possessed by this powerful sexual demon.

Kate clawed at Mark’s buttocks with her talons as Luke slammed his pelvis into her. Lightening grew more frequent and intense. Each flash freezing the sexual beast with three backs for an instant, in a macabre blue-white vignette.

Mark and Luke screamed as they came, howling like animals, crying out like demons from the depths of hell. Mark felt himself drained as his cock jetted cum into Kate’s mouth. Not only of his seed, but almost of life itself. Luke sensed his soul being torn from him and a grey veil fall over the world around him. Luke slumped back , white and barely breathing. Mark followed a few seconds later as Kate unhooked her talons from the flesh of his buttocks

Still on all fours Kate’s forked tongue licked the cum from her lips. She stood and looked at the huddle trio, Peter, Charlotte and Emily. “Now you three.” And she laughed, a cruel joyless laugh.

But the spell had been broken. Peter grabbed Charlotte and Emily, dragging them through the hall to the door.

Still Kate laughed.

The key would not turn in the lock.

“No!”, yelled Kate.

Peter heard the sound of Kate’s wings beating as she launched herself after them. Peter tried again and the lock turned. He managed to slam the door shut just as Kate reached the doorway. Turning the key from the outside he locked her in.

“Will that keep her in?” asked Charlotte?. “How the Fuck should I know?”, replied a white faced Peter.

As the three of them ran down the drive towards the village, they heard a scream behind them from the pits of Hades. “Mark!”, cried Emily. “I think we need a mob.” said Peter.