She’d had a long day and she was tired and ready for bed. Her train had been delayed by ‘leaves on the line’ the conductor had said when he announced the reason that they had been standing for so long in the middle of nowhere.
She had no idea why a few leaves could possible cause such a long delay. The next time he passed through the carriage, she asked him.
“That’s just what we say as a quick explanation,” he said quietly, although there were only two other people in the carriage and they were at the other end. “The train in front of this one had to stop at a junction but the wet, fallen leaves make the rails slippery and it slipped past the signal. That is what caused the delay. So much to be tested and checked before they can be sure it is safe to continue.”
And so, here she was, just before midnight on this horrible wet Autumn night.
The short walk to her car had not been much fun either. The wind had turned her umbrella inside out and some of the spokes had broken so it was useless. Her hair, shoulder length and blonde, was a mess and plastered to her face and her black jacket and skirt were soaked through so, before getting into the driving seat she peeled the jacket off her shoulders and threw it onto the back seat along with her briefcase and climbed in the front.
The first thing she did after starting the engine was to switch on the seat heater then pulled down the visor to look at her appearance in the illuminated vanity mirror set into it.
Seeing the glistening rain water, smudged mascara and dishevelled hair she gave a deep sigh of irritation and banged the visor back up into the roof lining feeling considerably older than the Forty-five years she actually was.
Carla pulled out of her parking space and drove to the barrier and pushed her ticket into the slot.
After a few moments of the barrier remaining perfectly horizontal, she cursed,
“Oh Damn it!” realising she had not paid the fee and now had to get out and go to the pay station which, fortunately, was located just the other side of the road.
Grabbing her purse from her hand bag she took the small paper ticket and opened the door, hitting the edge of it on the ticket reader.
“Damn, Damn, Damn!” she shouted and stooped to check the paint-work. The machine had a plastic casing so she was relieved to see that the paint was not marked and continued to the pay-machine and paid the fee indicated.
There was a shelter, of sorts, but the wind was driving the rain in to it and by the time she got back into her car, her white cotton blouse was wet and sticking to her slim figure, her white lace bra showing clearly against her pink flesh.
This time, when she fed the ticket into the exit machine, the barrier rose and she pressed her foot on the accelerator. With a soft growl, the smooth V8 engine revved easily and she pulled out onto the main road and headed for home.
She had about twenty miles to drive, about half of which was on the motorway.
Before long she had relaxed a little. The heated seat had driven away the cold and the comfortable leather upholstery calmed her soul as well as her body.
She steered the big Mercedes up the slip road and onto the deserted motorway, setting the cruise control to a steady seventy miles per hour.
To her dismay, moments later, she saw a sign. ‘Motorway closed at next junction’ and the gantry lights above were showing white arrows pointing to the left.
“Oh Great!” she thought. Although she only had to travel two junctions, this one was unknown to her and she hoped that the diversion was signed.
She cancelled the cruise control and slowed down to a stop at the ‘T’ junction at end of the slip road. No signs!
“Hmm, left or right?” Carla knew that when she turned off at her usual junction she always went right at the roundabout so she decided that right was probably the way to go.
The road soon became a dark deserted country road heading out over the wild deserted moorland. She wasn’t concerned. She lived on the edge of the moors and she wondered if maybe, this would actually be a good route to beat the daytime traffic instead of going through the big towns as she normally did.
Mile after mile she followed the winding road, noting that she must get petrol in the morning and hoped she had enough to get her home.
As this thought was passing through her mind she came to a village. Only a small village, just a handful of old stone houses arranged round a small church yard and village inn. This was the end of the road and, once again, she had two choices, left or right. She looked around for a sign but, to her dismay, there wasn’t one. It was then she realised that she had absolutely no idea where she was!
“Oh, Stupid!” she exclaimed out loud, remembering the car’s built in satellite navigation system which she immediately selected on the screen in the centre and waited impatiently for it to locate her position.
It took it’s time, the small words at the top of the screen flashing until changing to the centre of the screen, ‘Unable to locate satellites’.
“Oh damn this lousy weather!” she shouted, punching the steering wheel with both fists.
She looked for clues both left and right but she didn’t know this place at all and finally opted to turn right, released the hand break and pressed the pedal.
“What the hell…?” she thought when nothing happened. The car remained motionless and silent.
It was then that she noticed the small orange light on the dashboard, the one shaped like a petrol pump and the small needle on the gauge resting on the E.
“Oh, Bloody fantastic!” she cursed, turned of the ignition and grabbed her mobile phone to call the the breakdown people. There was no signal!
Carla was furious now,
“Twenty-first bloody century and I can’t make a simple call!” she swore and threw the phone into the passenger foot-well in her fury.
She sat for a while thinking about what to do next, surely someone would be along soon but, when she looked at her watch and saw that it was just midnight it occurred to her that it was possible no-one might appear for several hours and already, without the heated seat and the climate control, she was getting cold.
The wind was still lashing the rain against the car so she decided she would have to disturb someone. Reaching back she grabbed her still damp jacket from the back seat and got out into the cold night air.
Everywhere seemed deserted as she walked towards the inn and peered through one of the dirty windows, her hands shielding her eyes as she tried to find any signs of life. She could not see anything in the gloom so she went to the front door and knocked hard against its flaky painted timber.
Nothing!
She stepped back and looked up at the windows which were still in darkness and then went back and banged as hard as she could. The sound echoed inside and she even called through the letter box as loud as her voice would allow but still nothing.
“You’ll not get a reply, not at this time of the night.”
The voice seemed to come from behind her so she spun around and saw a thin young woman leaning nonchalantly against the wall of the arch over the church-yard gate.
She appeared to be in her very early twenties and dressed like an Emo or Goth. Her long shiny black hair straight down over her shoulders and black lipstick and mascara in stark contrast to her pale flesh with seemed to glow in the light from the car’s sidelights.
Her thin, waif-like figure was adorned with a long black bustier dress which ended in tatters just below her knees and she wore an old, black Victorian style coat open at the front.
Carla’s mouth opened and closed at the unexpected contact.
“Who? What?” she mouthed, uncertain of what to say.
“Come out of the rain,” the young woman called and Carla obeyed immediately, running across the road behind her car, the red tail lights giving a momentary eerie glow to her face as she passed.
Once in the shelter she pulled her soaked jacket tightly around her, shivering with the cold.
“I need… Carla began, “Ran out of…” for some reason she was lost for words. Something that, as a successful and powerful business woman, she had never experienced before especially in the presence of such a slip of a girl.
“Come on, this way.” The girl turned and skipped off into the church yard.
Carla hesitated for a moment. The rain was still lashing down but the wind had eased and she had some misgivings about the churchyard.
The Emo girl stopped and turned.
“Do you want to stay there all night?” she shouted and when Carla shook her head called, “Come on then!” and skipped away along the path towards the church.
This time, Carla followed. She had no choice after all.
The thin woman took her to an entrance through a small porch on the side of the Norman church and the heavy oak door groaned loudly as she swung it open.
Carla followed inside and her shoes clicked and squelched as she walked across the stone flagged floor, each tap of her stiletto heels echoed loudly against the silence.
She looked around and saw that the church didn’t seem to be used anymore. The pews were haphazard and he crucifix behind the altar had fallen over and was leaning, upside down, against the naked stone.
It felt even colder now and she was shivering uncontrollably in her wet clothes but at least she was out of the rain now.
“Welcome.”
The young woman had been joined by an older but equally beautiful woman who was also dressed in the black Gothic style but her dress was long and covered her feet so that when she walked she appeared to glide, the fabric dragging along the cold stone floor between the rows of pews.
Carla was afraid now, the breath leaving her lips and misting in front of her face.
Once again she stuttered.
“M… my car.” She made a half effort to lift her arm in the direction of the road. “I… I must go…”
“You cannot leave, Carla.”
She remained fixed, trembling still but now with fear, not cold.
She stared at the woman
“How do you know my name? Why can’t I leave?”
There was a sudden sound of thin laughter all around her and a flash of lightning revealed the silhouettes of others hidden in the shadows around the nave.
“You car? Broken?” came the reply “And your number C4RLA?”
Carla felt stupid then and she blushed deeply, the sudden rush of blood driving away the cold and some of the fear.
As the initial surprise receded the cold returned and she began to shiver again.
“Come, Carla, let us take care of you. You have no need to fear us.”
But Carla did fear them.
“W… who are you?” she asked through chattering teeth.
“Oh, how thoughtless of me,” the woman replied benevolently, Forgive me please. I am Imperia and this is Lila,” indicating the thin girl.
Carla tried to smile but all she could manage was a slight nod and a twitch at the end of her lips.
Imperia spread her arms with a flourish.
“These are my sisters,” she said and as she spoke others moved forward out of the shadows.
“Adreana, Keres, Hadria, Malvolia, Delia, Bronwen, Athanasia, Zillah and, finally, Thana.”
Carla looked at each one as they stepped forward in response to their name, each one dressed in a variation of Lila and Imperia’s style, and each one tall, slim and beautiful with very pale skin, black mascara and lipstick and long, shining, jet black hair. She noticed also that each had exceptionally dark eyes, almost black.
She didn’t feel cold or afraid any more, just numb.
All the names she had heard tonight seemed somehow familiar and yet strangers they were, without a doubt.
She felt a hand touch her hair, brushing it away from her face.
The sisters all seemed to be talking at once but Carla could not hear words, just a murmur as if of the wind blowing through the dead leaves outside.
Fingers deftly unfastened the buttons holding her blouse and the wet cotton was peeled away from her body and she let her arms be lifted a little to allow the soggy garment to be taken from her.
Although her breath still hung in the air, she was warm and felt good inside. All the memories of the day were gone. All that remained was the pleasure that was building inside of her. Nothing else mattered.
The waistband of her skirt was became loosened and the rain heavy garment fell quickly to the ground around her feet, each of which she raised upon feeling a gentle pressure on her calves, one at a time and stepped out of it without protest.
Against her almost naked body the sisters pressed and writhed as their hands busied themselves removing her white lace bra, lingering, touching her breasts, pinching her nipples and caressing her whole body.
Any resistance Carla may have felt had long gone. All her inhibitions had left her along with her garments.
The final, almost invisible covering, her thin lace panties began to be drawn down over her thighs, exposing her totally hairless mound and still firm buttocks. The night air against her damp naked flesh made her quiver with excitement and the cold hard fingers, pressing and probing her most intimate places was sending her to a wonderful place she had never before experienced.
“No… I…” she began to protest but in truth she was past caring. Imperia’s sisters could whatever they pleased and she would let them. She belonged to them.
Again, the soft pressure on her calves caused her to lift her feet to allow the scant fabric to disappear.
Her breathing was becoming laboured now, slow and deep and little moans began to escape from deep within her.
Carla had reached a different plane. She was standing almost naked, wearing nothing but her heels and stockings, being caressed by eleven beautiful women. The sensations of their cold hands all over her body made her feel as though she was floating on a cloud. She felt soft but cold lips touching her neck and ears. Hands, fingers, lips on her breasts and nipples, nipping, pinching, massaging her willing flesh. There were cold hands between her legs and behind her, delving between the firm globes of her buttocks, touching her in places where even her husband was forbidden and it felt so wrong, so wanton and dirty but yet, she was becoming carried away on a cloud of desire..
Deep inside her, she felt the first stirrings of orgasm begin to build. The muscles in her thighs ached under the effort of keeping her upright and her breasts screamed under the onslaught of so many lips and fingers.
When she felt the soft pressure of lips against her throat she allowed her head to roll back, enjoying the sensation of a tongue tracing the line of her oesophagus from the dimple at the base of her neck to the tip of her chin and gentle kisses back down.
She felt the moisture forming inside of her, the heat building and the dull throbbing of her straining clitoris as a dozen fingers, toyed and rolled it.
“Stop!” a commanding voice and all caresses ceased. “Enough, she must be prepared.”
The words sent a chill through Carla’s mind but it left no impression on her now. She couldn’t even form an opinion as to what she may be prepared for.
Suddenly she felt Lila’s hands draping a brilliant white cloak around her shoulders. It was exceptionally light and yet warm and soft against her flesh.
It was tied at the neck with a thin bow.
From her position at the end of the aisle, Carla could see the stone table that had once been an altar. In the darkness beyond she could barely make out the shape of a solitary figure standing motionless, arms outstretched in front.
She could see no detail of who this was but somehow she knew it was a woman and the coldness in her heart made her afraid once again. Inside her head she could hear a voice, commanding her to walk and so she obeyed. She had the choice to refuse but the thought never entered her mind as she placed one foot in front of the other, taking slow, careful steps over the uneven stone floor, her heels clicking and the white cloak dragging behind her, revealing her nakedness.
The eleven sisters followed behind, whispering words that Carla could not understand until she reached the stone steps. She ascended them, one, two, three, then stood obediently in front of the mystery woman.
No words were exchanged but as she raised her head and drew back the black hood from her face, Carla, whilst never having seen nor met this woman, knew her name, Adrasteia!
“You know me, Carla!” It was a statement rather than a question but Carla felt compelled to reply.
“Yes, Mistress.”
The Mistress’s hands spread outwards in indication that Carla should lie upon the table and she felt hands embrace her. Arms encircled her and lifted her, placing her carefully down upon the cold hard slab. The bow at her neck was tugged gently and the flimsy cloak parted and fell away to the sides, falling down over the edges of the altar.
Without command, she lay flat and still, her arms straight down her sides and her legs tightly together.
Adrasteia bent forward, her face so close that Carla could feel her cold breath upon her lips, her black, soulless eyes empty of emotion.
Carla closed hers and felt her lips being parted by an inquisitive cold dry tongue and she allowed her mouth to open and accept this welcome intruder. She could feel the warmth being drawn from her body but she wasn’t cold, nor was she afraid for she knew that this was her destiny.
Once again, hands were touching her, squeezing her breasts, harder and harder, crushing the soft flesh until the exquisite pain began to make her cry out. She felt lips upon her nipples drawing up her aching flesh and stretching it, sharp teeth biting and pulling. She had never experienced such pain before but it was glorious and exciting and it made her tremble with desire.
The sisters parted her legs and she could feel the moisture trickle from her as fingers parted the soft folds of her labia and she felt herself being opened, entered, stretched beyond endurance but still she kept her eyes closed and accepted the pain willingly.
Slowly, her knees were drawn up and apart, exposing her vagina and anus and whatever had been inserted into her was withdrawn. The respite was brief, however as, being totally exposed, the fingers returned and penetrated her vagina once more but now she groaned as she felt another finger being pushed roughly into that tighter, virginal orifice. Soon it was joined by another but not from the same hand because she felt her tight, crinkled flesh being stretched, opened to its limit. It hurt her and she felt as though she would tear. It felt hot and she cried out with the ecstasy of the pain. She was no stranger to sex, she had been married for twenty-five years but it was always just normal, her husband laying atop of her and over in minutes. Never had she been exposed to such treatment, not by anyone including her husband or doctor.
She gasped deeply as she felt a cool breath against her back passage and tried to push her legs forwards when something nudged against its tight opening but she was held firmly and then, pushing firmly, whatever it was entered her and she cried out yet again, though not in pain this time but with the sheer wanton pleasure of a soft tongue pushing through the ring of muscle that, until now, had only one purpose.
She felt the movement deep inside her and she wanted to push against it, get it out but it was firmly inside her. She cried out again as a digit forced it’s way beside it and then a second.
The pain was excruciating! She felt as though she was being torn apart and yet, she loved it, an amazing fullness causing her vagina to contract and pulse, fluid leaking out and dripping down into her cruelly stretched anus.
Her heart was pounding with wanton desire as hands caressed every part of her body, both inside and out and then, to her dismay, the fingers were removed and every hand that had been upon her withdrew.
Carla looked down her body and her eyes opened wide. Between her still restrained, wide-stretched legs stood Adrasteia but, what caught her attention was the implement which was standing out in front of her through a opening in her cloak, in the place where a man would have his penis was not one but two huge phalluses attached by means of a harness, one above the other.
Her mind screamed out ‘no’ but she could not stop her.
Lila and Imperia each took a side of the fabric and slide the heavy cloak from Adrasteia’s shoulders.
She stood tall and beautiful, her pale, almost colourless flesh seemed to glow in the half light, her long black hair and dark eyes stood out in contrast. Her firm, high breasts with their dark points stood out proudly as she stepped forwards to take her position between Carla’s legs.
The two thick shafts began to edge into her, pushing incessantly into her vagina and anus simultaneously, stretching her beyond any limit she imagined she had and she screamed out.
Adrasteia pushed once more, forcing the remaining length deep inside her and then, slowly, began to pump gently, back and forth until the pain slowly gave way to pleasure and Carla relaxed until, with little warning, the biggest orgasm she had ever experienced exploded through her tight body. She gripped both phalluses internally as her lower muscles tensed rigidly and she cried out with abandon, her back arched and pushing hard against these unstoppable invaders until she collapsed against the solid cold stone.
Adrasteia withdrew and waited a moment whilst Delia and Bronwen removed the phalluses then walked around to Carla’s side. She leaned over her recumbent form and her lips brushed against her neck.
For an instant she felt a sharp pain, like two needles penetrating her soft flesh and into her jugular vein.
The last thing she heard as the warmth finally drained from her inert body were cold words whispered into her ear.
“Welcome, Sister Amarande. Now we are complete. Now we are thirteen once again.”
Some hours later the rotten timbers of the church door crashed inwards.
“Over here Sarge, I’ve found her!” The police Sergeant pressed his two forefingers against Carla’s cold neck where she sat, leaning against the front of the stone altar, unmoving.
“Better get an Ambulance, son, but I think she is dead.”
The young constable used his radio to make the request.
“What was she doing here anyway. This place has been empty for donkeys years. Why would she drive so far from home. It’s not like the motorway was closed and even if it had been, why would she leave the main road and park up here?”
“I wish I knew, son,” the Sergeant replied. “There’s nothing wrong with the car either. The key was in the ignition and her phone was in the foot-well, still switched on and with a good signal. The engine started with the first turn of the key. Why didn’t she call someone? Her husband had called her and the missed call are still on the screen”
“Maybe she came here on purpose, Sarge. It’s miles from anywhere and you really couldn’t get here by accident.”
Both men suddenly stood up straight and looked around.
“Did you hear that, Sarge?” the young constable asked nervously. “Sounded like a woman laughing.”
“Now then, lad, don’t let the situation spook you,” the Sergeant did seem entirely convinced himself, “It’s just the wind, son, just the wind.”
