Into Darkness Ch. 11

Disclaimer.

The next few chapters describe the summoning of a demon and the destruction it reeks. Whilst this adds to the structure of the story, in no way is it an accurate account of summation. Scenes have been removed from this story to comply with Literotica Submissions. As with all things concerning dark powers, do not mess with them. If you are of a sensitive nature, then please do not read on.

Callum was convinced the drink was now fine, and downed it quickly too. Putting the glass besides Cassandra's. When he turned back, she had lifted the tapestry to reveal a door. She opened that and dragged Callum by the hand down another corridor. Where they were in the house, he could not guess. But as Cassandra turned a corner, he could see there were some steps downwards and guessed they were heading for the cellars. Was she taking him directly to the room where the ritual occurred the other night? As he got to the bottom of the stone steps, his knees buckled. He grabbed out to Cassandra for support and managed to steady himself, but his head was spinning and beginning to ache. He felt too that he was looking at Cassandra down a long dark tunnel. Not too far from the truth, but he realised his visual perception was not right either.

Cassandra smiled. "Feeling drowsy? Sorry Callum, had to make sure you would come down here without a fight."

Callum realised too late he had been duped. "But the drink...?" He said, his tongue thick in its inability to operate properly.

"Yes, well I assumed you might try the switch on me, so I proffered the one without the drugs in it, expecting you to make me drink that one. I really am sorry, but I need the contents of those balls of yours and could not have you backing out on me."

Callum felt himself being lifted my strong arms, and before he slipped into unconsciousness, heard Cassandra saying, "Get him prepared."

The chanting in the room brought some semblance of coherence to his scrambled mind. He had heard something similar before, but could not recall when or where. He looked about the room, it was darkly decorated, candles supplied the only light. Pictures about the walls depicted the ravaging of women by groups of men and creatures, and some were of the reverse, men being feasted on by women as they waited their turn to straddle the erect cocks. He couldn't remember whether he had been here before or not. In fact, he couldn't remember much of anything.

He tried to move and realised that his hands were manacled together above his head and secured to the column he rested himself on. He seemed to be wearing a black robe, loosely tied about the waist. On either side of him, stood similarly clothed figures, diminutive, so potentially women, but he was not able to tell at this point, as no features were visible and their backs were turned to him. The chanting reverberated in the room, and his head, making it pulse with an intense ache. His scrambled brain, just not able to make sense of anything.

Looking over what he took to be a 'Y' shaped altar, he could see a man of similar age to himself, also secured to a column, but this man was naked. His head was bowed, whether he was unconscious, Callum could not say. To one side of the alter, was a large wheel-like object. It had upon it, what looked like a pentagram, carved into the wood. There were points to secure a person to it, by the looks of things, and two of the cloaked figures slowly span the wheel about its axis. Was this some form of torture? As he looked further, his eyes growing accustomed to the light, he could make out more cowled figures, their backs to him preparing something. Callum heard the occasional muffled cry, in amongst the chanting, but found he was in no way concerned about it.

Before him a cowled figure suddenly appeared. Pulling back the hood, a beautiful if somewhat cruel face was revealed. The stark red lipstick, standing out as the dominant colour in her make-up and black-long hair, making her face look very pale. "Here we are again Callum. Are you ready to worship me with your Earthly phallus? I must have it; you know that don't you? You will fill me with your seed, empowering me to eternal life upon this Earth." The woman leaned in and sucked upon his lips with hers, making a loud slurping noise. "It is almost time."

Callum felt numb. The kiss did nothing for him. The woman, felt like a complete stranger, though he had a feeling he should know her. The overriding impression that he got from that brief contact, was the deep cruelty apparent within her. An oldness, despite her seeming youth, a hunger that stemmed from years of abstinence, years or decades or millennia. The woman walked to the other man, and kneeling before him, sucked his flaccid cock into her mouth. Deep-throating him, all the while staring at Callum. The man stirred and groaned, whether in pain or pleasure, Callum could not tell, but suspected the later, because as the ruby-red lips of the woman withdrew from the man's penis, Callum could see it was already hard. The woman's work done, she stood up and instructed two of the other cowled figures to start playing with the man and keeping him hard.

A scuffle to his left, drew his eyes to what was happening near the wheel. A woman was being dragged into the room. By the look upon her face she was not normally part of the proceedings, her tear stained cheeks implying that she had been crying for some time, her lovely eyes wild like a spooked horse. Suddenly they latched onto Callum, recognition seemed to flare in them. She tried to cry out, but the ball-gag prevented anything other than a loud muffled moan.

Callum looked on with a strange detachment as the woman turned to the naked man and appeared to call to him. She seemed to be trying to rouse him, to stop the cloaked figures from manipulating his cock, but they paid no heed. She looked back at Callum, wild eyed. Imploring him to do something, even though she could see his arms were secured. But Callum remained impassive as she tried to explain something to him through their eye contact, as the cloaked figures began to secure her to the wheel. She began to struggle again.

Strangely, rather than being interested in the woman as she was being roughly handled by the acolytes, it was what she was wearing that made him stop and think. For some reason the tight jumper and the quite short, pleated skirt struck a chord within him. He tried to grasp why? Had he perhaps seen her before and wearing these clothes? Where did he remember it from? But he could not grab hold of the tenuous memory, no matter how he tried and it slipped easily away. So, instead he continued to watch the proceedings with detachment.

With the woman fully secured, the cloaked figures moved away, leaving just one standing before her. That one held what looked like a dagger in their hand. It was jewel encrusted and the large hilt, made the person's hand look rather small. They stepped in front of the woman and drew back their hood. Callum and the secured woman reacted to the figure in different ways. The woman attempted to scream and struggled futilely against her bonds. To Callum there was recognition in her eyes, that spoke of fear and of loathing; of hatred and disgust. Callum though, saw only an old man, frail, small almost genial. How could he be involved in what was happening here? Whatever that was?

The knife caught the light as it was wielded in practised arcs before the restrained woman, then stabbed forwards. Callum thought that the man was about to stab his victim and was surprised when his body reacted and tried to move to stop what he was doing. But he was drawn back by his manacled wrists. Besides, the old man had stopped the thrust, a distance from the woman, instead, he used the keen edge of the blade to run along the length of one of her sleeves, cutting it from wrist to neck. He then changed hands and did a similar move with her other sleeve. Then he put the knife to the bottom of the jumper and ran it up over her stomach, between her breasts and to her neck. The woollen item of clothing, simply fell to the floor.

Callum could see the old man leering at the large breasted woman. And why wouldn't he. Even in these circumstances, she looked beautiful. Her breasts were perfectly formed, in Callum's eyes and were large, yet pert. They appeared a golden colour in the candle light and as she continued to struggle, they jiggled enticingly before the man, who appeared to be riveted to the spot with lust.

"Umm, I want to suck upon one of your nipples my pretty. Shall I take one into my mouth...no? You don't want me to defile you? Oh, but my precious, I already have, and on quite a few occasions." He laughed, which quickly turned into a hacking cough, then he stepped forwards, grasping one of the woman's nipples and pulling at it. He then put the sharp blade across it as if he were going to cut the nub of erectile tissue off. "Perhaps then I shall have your nipple in my mouth this way eh?" The woman was in near hysterics, she sobbed and tried to cry out. Dribble flecked her chin, her eyes filled once more with tears as she shook her head, looking at Callum imploring him to intercede. The man simply laughed again, releasing her nipple and slowly got to his knees.

With a few more practised swings of the knife, the woman's skirt fell to the floor, revealing very shapely legs, encased in light coloured stockings and a white suspender belt. She wore matching panties by the looks of the lacework, but it was the stockings that held both of the men's attentions. The old man buried his face into the woman's panty covered crotch, sniffing loudly and cackling before standing and facing her.

"Oh Christina, naughty Christina. I can smell sex on you, and you are wearing stockings. You have not worn stockings for a while now...yes, I know everything about you. You have had sex, recently haven't you? And we know it is not with poor Niall over there don't we?" All heads turned to the naked man who jerked as his erection was rubbed to the inevitable conclusion, his ejaculate being caught in some form of chalice by the cloaked figures, who collected every drop before leaving the man alone. He raised his head to look at Christina, then turned away embarrassed.

"So, who have we had sex with then Christina eh? No matter. I told you that all things will come to the Church in the end. And you can expect a lot of coming tonight Chrissy. Unfortunately, though, it won't be you."

Callum's ears pricked up. 'Christina?' Why did that name ring a bell? And why was he so intrigued that she was wearing stockings? Of course, they were an arousing piece of erotica, and on Christina, they were exquisitely presented, but there was something else about them, or was it about her, about...Chrissy?

The man now deftly ran the knife blade up Christina's thigh, letting it get caught in the elastic of her small panties. As the blade snagged, the sharp implement severed the thin lacy material, which dropped down and away from her thigh. "Eager for the big reveal, are we?" The old man panted, "or is it the thought of the pleasure of receiving my cock that is making you aroused?" Christina turned away her head, as the man dragged his blade across the other side of her panties, cutting through them. He held onto the small garment, bringing the gusset up to his nose and smelling them again, before sticking out his tongue and licking along where Christina's pussy had recently been. "Umm, my dear, you taste just how I remember, though there is a definite hint of cock there too. You have been fucking haven't you!" It was a statement, not a question. That Christina ignored.

"Ah, well, you will be getting more cock this very night, than you have had in years I don't doubt my little whore. And I will make your husband watch it all as I make you cry out in pleasure. No wait, that will be me crying out in pleasure won't it, as I shoot my seed into you." He leaned in and pinched her nipple hard. "And it won't be the first time I have shot my load into you either. Curtesy of your weak-willed husband." Chrissy cried out, looking back at the man with utter hatred.

"Chrissy," Callum whispered. "Chrissy...Chrissy...CHRISSY!" Suddenly his wits flooded back to him. And with them, all that had gone before. He realised immediately that the old man must be Michaelson and that thought brought on a loathing that he had rarely ever had for an individual of whom he had never met. At that moment, the old man turned to Callum and still holding Chrissy's panties to his face, he walked over to him. As he stood before Callum, he was joined by the dark-haired beauty, Cassandra. Who with no more ado, dropped her cloak and stood before them both, resplendent in her nakedness. She was still wearing the black stockings and suspenders, that he remembered from earlier, but had now adorned the hooped piercings to her nipples and her clitoris, and was wearing the chains linking all together.

He wondered just how much time had elapsed since he had disrobed her and since she had wanked him dry. He wondered how close they were to the witching hour and to the ritual that he knew they were going to try and perform. These thoughts kept his penis very much under his control, despite the gorgeous body of the naked, lithe woman before him. Callum could not help but admire the beauty of this fine-looking woman, the cruelty in her eyes had momentarily gone and she looked like any other luscious, naked girl, standing before him. Maybe even a little lost. In other situations, or other times, he could even see himself with her as a girlfriend.

"So," said Michaelson. "This is the phallus bearer?"

"It is, would you like to see?"

"I would yes."

Cassandra signalled to two of the cloaked figures and they moved in front of Callum and reached up to undo his manacles. He could see from their slender arms and painted nails, that they too, were both women, and he could also now see the fullness of their bosoms. Occasionally, they both rubbed their breasts against him, unnecessarily so he thought. Throughout, they kept their faces covered.

Once they had released him, they untied his cloak and pulled it from his broad shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Callum made no move, deciding that he would need to wait for the right time to escape, taking Chrissy with him. At the moment, there were too many of them, even though, as he suspected, many if not all, were probably the women from the previous night. Besides, he was still groggy from whatever Cassandra had given him, so he waited, hoping the right time would present itself.

"Is he not a fine specimen?" Cassandra said, seemingly unable to resist running her hands over his pronounced pectoral muscles and down across the ridges of his intercostals to the flat pain of his stomach. In his resistance to her touch, he tensed his stomach muscles producing his well-defined six-pack that lay just beneath the surface of his skin. He could see Cassandra break out in goose-bumps as she was affected by the allure of touching him. She fidgeted rubbing her thighs against each other as her arousal took hold. "And take it from me, he is virile and large when erect." She almost panted out, biting upon her bottom lip as her internal struggle increased.

Michaelson flashed a look of anger at Cassandra. He could tell as well as Callum that she was getting aroused. "Have you drained him already? I told you that the phallus bearer needed to have a full set of balls, why have you disobeyed me?"

Cassandra's eyes dropped to the floor in submission. "I am sorry for being weak. But seeing him again, made me want him. I think the Saining ritual has had a particularly strong effect upon me and has infected me with lust for him. But as I told you, and I have borne witness to this myself. He is able to spurt his seed multiple times. At least three. And what I took from him, was hours ago. Would you like to see him erect?"

"Oh course!" Michaelson barked. "Though perhaps you are not trustworthy enough to do that. Shall I get one of the acolytes to..."

"You forget my Magus, that all here have imbibed his sperm, so as a result of the ritual, will all be in his power. I will however control the urge."

Michaelson nodded his head in approval. Cassandra looked at the acolytes either side of him and said. "Hold him." They grabbed a wrist each as he watched Cassandra kneel upon the flag-stone floor and raise a hand to his flaccid penis.

"Let us hope you are up to the task Magistra, for it would seem your naked charms are not enough to excite this well-formed individual? But then, maybe that is because he only has eyes for Christina eh?"

Callum realised that he was looking at Christina, and cursed the old goat for not missing a thing. But Cassandra said nothing, she just gently pulled back his foreskin, slipped her lips about Callum's glans and sucked him into the heat of her mouth. Swallowing his length into her throat and beginning a manipulation of his phallus that he had never felt before. The rhythmic pulses that she was able to induce, began an arousal in him that was both fast and furious. He could not stop it, despite himself and despite his surroundings; his cock began to swell and take on form. Cassandra sucked upon him, withdrawing so that only half of his length was within her, then thrusting back down until her lips were at the base of his growing beast. She began to gag as his cock grew, saliva dribbled from her lips and his balls to the floor. With her airway blocked by his increasing girth, she pulled from him completely and stood, proudly displaying her handiwork. She turned to the acolytes holding his wrists. "Remove your cloaks, time approaches. Keep his phallus hard, by any means you need, but take care, he is bound to you and you to him. If you spill his come before the ceremony is done, your lives will not be worth the living!"

She turned to Michaelson, "There, did I not tell you."

As the now naked women either side of Callum, pulled back on his foreskin, revealing his glossy plum-coloured head, he looked down at his cock, unsurprised that it was fully erected and waggling within their grasp.

"Indeed, an impressive specimen." Michaelson grabbed the end of Callum's cock and ran his hand along it as he looked into Callum's eyes. Callum could not be sure if there was jealousy, lust or simple curiosity showing there. But he was sure of the evil of this man. Frail though he may be, he was the embodiment of evil.

"Will he not be perfect my Magus? His earthly phallus will give the life we need, for as many times as we need, of this I am sure."

"So be it. And now I understand we have an extra surprise? Suzy, Vailenga, Tessa and Julia, prepare the altar. Charlotte, Melissa, Ingrid and Trudy, bring in the subject."