Tsuchinoko
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PREFACE: So this is (another) somewhat lazily written story. Do note, however, it does have some violence in it, as well as some animals (Goats) employed to dole out torture. So y'know, if that's not your thing, just know both are in here! It also entails urination (though, minimally, done for narrative realism)! So again, if none of that's your thing, this may not be the short-story for you. I'm still extremely inexperienced in writing, as well. So apologies in advanced for the potential lack of quality control going on with the story!
Lastly, the presentation format is probably hard to read, since I type these things in Obsidian and the formatting doesn't seem to transition very well. As such, if you would rather read it in a (somewhat) more clustered sort of format, I direct you to the story's alternative location: Here.
Anywho, on with the show.
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"What about that place?" Meredith asked, pointing out a dilapidated manor not far from the town's outskirts. "No way, you wanna get jumped by junkies?" Marvin snipped, turning his attention back to the road. "We need somewhere that won't get us killed." Continuing, he prattled on about the potential of junkies and homeless vagrants who may or may not harbor ill-will towards the group.
"Yeah, but doesn't Jeremy own a knife?" Reagan chimed in from the backseat. "He does, see? We can use that place!" Excitement palpable in her tone, Meredith playfully smacked Marvin's arm, to which he snapped back. "Heyhey, no! I'm driving, you want us to crash!?" "It was barely even a slap, you big baby."
Sinking into the seat, Meredith watched as the car pulled off to the side of the road. Stepping out, she gave the manor a brief look-over. "It seems about right. What all do we even need?" She asked, glancing back to Reagan. "Just a few candles and an Ouija."
"I really don't think this is a good idea, guys. My brother's a pr-" "Relax, preacher-boy. Ghosts aren't real, and neither are demons." Meredith exclaimed confidently. "It's just a fun way to spend Halloween~!" Cheerfully slapping the hood of the sedan, Meredith jumped back into the passenger seat while the two looked over the yard in front of the home.
Grass which should be green, had wilted due to neglect. Soil reclaimed the land from the foreign import, as the grass dissolved into a sickly shade of golden brown. Patches proved to be muddy, sunken into the earth as accumulated pools swelled with each rainy day that came and forgot to leave.
Windows were shattered, the walls looked burnt to a crisp in some sections, yet, they went with it. It was going to be a killer Halloween, paranoid delusions shouldn't dissuade fun while fun can be had.
When Meredith was dropped off, Marvin shouted before pulling off. "Be ready at 10, I swear if you're late we're not doing this! I'm not having a repeat of last year!" Flipping him the bird in a loving manner, Meredith returned to her room.
Neglecting to reply to her Mother's request to take her little brother trick-or-treating, she merely barked back with a slothful shrug followed by a head-shake. Scowling, her mother followed her up to her room in order to receive a proper answer.
"What do you have that's so important you can't take Kyle out? You got to go when you were his age!" Groaning in annoyance, Meredith lashed out "Mom, I'm leaving for college, this is my last fuck-" "LANGUAGE!" Further groaning at her mother's interruption, she briefly composed herself.
"It's my last year here... I want to spend it WITH MY FRIENDS." Rummaging through her drawer, Meredith scoffed at her mother's subsequent questioning. "And what, Kyle's not a friend? He's YOUR BROTHER!" Turning around, miniskirt and tank top in tow, she murmured her reply. "He's not my brother, he's Gerald's son. That doesn't make us related."
While her mother raged, screaming about familial bonds transcending blood, and being about union, Meredith ditched her dress-shirt and jeans in favor of the lighter load attire. Cloaked in raven skirt, which blossomed into plume-like ends resting along the mid-point of her thighs, the top was no more so covered. A tank-top at least one size smaller than usual, giving off the skin-tight look, hugged her slender frame. Applying a thicker layer of eyeliner than usual, topping it off with black-lipstick, Meredith looked at herself in the mirror.
Paper skin, caramel colored eyes, partially covered by hair draping down one side of her face. The white-dyed hair spanned towards her chest, and had been fixed expressly to hug her left side. Putting her snakebites into her lips, she'd left the bathroom and once more fell into her mother's radar.
"Where do you think you're going dressed like that!? This isn't another thing with Jeremy, right? That boy has a rec-" "MOM! I'm eighteen, for christ sake. I'm allowed to leave the damn house, for ONE FUCKING NIGHT!" Another screaming rage ensued, even after Meredith had slammed the door shut, and proceeded to venture towards the meeting point an hour early.
She realized, by the time that she'd been halfway towards the meetup, she left her phone on the counter. She was in such a frazzled state, drowned in rage, that she left it just lying there. Smacking herself figuratively, she kept on.
"Oh shit, you're early?" Jeremy noted, giving Meredith a hug before a peck on the lips. "Guys, are you sure we don't want to do somewhere else?" Marvin cautiously inquired, pointing out the various holes in the lawn.
"Are you... afraid of some fucking dirt, Marv? Jesus." "No! I'm ju-" "Relax, Marvin. It's not actually haunted." Reagan reminded him, pushing the Ouija board into his hands before approaching the gate.
"How'd you even get the keys?" Looking towards Jeremy, Reagan simply smiled, flashing doe-eyes as she answered. "Dad's the sheriff, dumbass." As she twisted the key into the lock, he turned towards Meredith. "That didn't explain anything, did it?" To which, she simply shrugged.
As the gate creaked open, the group began along the cobblestone path towards the stairs. "S-So what are we even doing?" "Christ, Marv, stop freaking out. We're doing whatever the fuck we want, before we live this shithole." Jeremy's response did nothing to satiate Marvin's curiosity or to quell his doubts, but Reagan's opening of the door surprisingly did.
The interior seemed surprisingly pristine. Whereas from the outside it looked to be a decayed, burnt abomination, lucky to even be standing. Inside, it looked to be a freshly kept palace. The stairs were polished wood, the walls were spotless with seemingly that new paint smell. Mirrors rested around every corner, furnishings were antiquated, but pristine and tidy all the same.
Despite the victorian era chairs, gothic tables with jagged edges, and a fireplace looking like it was meant to cook a person whole, it seemed brand-new. "I-I thought you guys said this was abandoned?" "Who fucking knows. Maybe some realtor's trying to flip it, man." Jeremy discarded Marvin's concerns once more, proceeding to slam the door behind the group.
"Jesus, Jeremy, we're still fucking breaking in. Don't alert the neighbors. They're probably gonna call the cops if you do stupid shit here." Rolling his eyes at Reagan's concern, he dropped himself onto the chair nearest to the fireplace, kicking his feet up and laying them on the counter.
"OI! GHOSTS! COME FUCKING OUT! IT'S THE DEVIL'S DAY, Y'PIECES A'SHIT!!" His scream echoed through the entrance, and ascended up the three floors above. Everyone simultaneously telling him to shut up, similarly bounced between the walls.
"Christ, there's no one fucking here, you babies. What the hell's wrong with'ya?" "Can we focus?" Reagan injected, setting the Ouija board onto the table that Marvin once had his feet on, having shoved them aside to make way for said board. "Now, everyone sit around, and hold hands. I'm gonna light the candle, and start the incantation."
As the group circled around the table, each slowly joining hands, Reagan began to light a series of wax candles they'd brought into the manor. Upon lighting the final, she proceeded to grab Marvin's and Jeremy's hand, whilst reciting seemingly some inane trite found online.
"In nomine dei nostri satanas luciferi excelsi! Dark spirits, we call upon thee to imbue us with your might. Regale us lowly mortals with tales from the infernal depths! Sing to us the songs of Tartarus oh lord of light!"
A moment of silence stirred following the incantation. Nothing... no movement, no uneasy breaths drawn, simply stasis. Were it any other setting, any other situation, that may in and of itself appear daunting or disconcerting. However, given the silliness of the situation, it was about what was expected.
"OH SHIT!" Jeremy's outburst caused Marvin to release both hands and jolt back, as though something had lurched from the board and towards him. Naturally, Jeremy fell backwards as he mockingly laughed at Marvin's overreaction. Slapping Jeremy's shoulder, Meredith berated him. "That's not funny, you know how-" "Can we focus, please!?" Reagan asked, impatiently waiting for the childish distraction to subside.
"N-no, no. I'm not doing this. My b-brother was right, we shouldn't be playing with this stuff." Marvin barreled towards the door, pushing it open and disappearing behind it. Reagan, jumping up, shouted for the boy and met the door, only to find him nowhere behind it.
"Marvin?" She cried out. "He's fucking with'ya, he's all pissy." Jeremy's explanation was taken as sufficient, as Reagan backed away from the door, and settled herself back to the board. Her hand placed onto the chip laying dormant atop it. "Let's resume." She cleared her throat amidst her speaking, looking to Meredith for some reassurance that Marvin was just playing some out of ordinary prank.
As the three held a hand each on the chip, Reagan began to question the beyond. "Are there any spirits here?" Moments passed, only for the chip to move. "A" "S" "JEREMY!" Reagan shouted as the chip moved only to return to another 'S' laughing, Jeremy simply shrugged. "The ghost's got tast-" "Stop fucking around!" She demanded once more, as the chip continued to move towards the skull painted haphazardly along the top of the board.
"I'm not doing it! One of you are, don't bitch't me!" His exclamation led to Meredith slapping his shoulder once more. "C'mon, stop messing with us. It's not funny." Despite the two of them having let go of the chip, Reagan stared at the board with a mortified expression.
"S"..."E"..."E". "The hell does that even mean, Rea? Don't bullshit us, christ." Jeremy stood, scoffing at the chip before glossing over the room. "SEE WHAT, HUH YA FUCKING CASPER?" Turning back to face Reagan, whose hand remained on the chip, he once more belittled the presumed prank. "This shit's for literal children. Why the fuck aren't we drinking? Y'know what! I bet this place has some tweaker's stash'a lightnin'. They couldn't'a gotten it all~" Excited by his own random accusation, he turned towards Meredith who simply shook her head.
"Whatever, you girls stay 'ere, I'm gonn'a get us a real party when I find ole bubba's stash." Reagan, continuing to look mortified at the stilled chip, turned to face Meredith with watery eyes. "W-W-we'vegottago." Whispering, practically inaudible in said delivery, Meredith simply leaned closer to hear what she said.
"I didn't do it." She repeated, releasing the chip and slowly inching away from the board. Meredith, thinking it a joke, burst into laughter. "Oho come on! Don't try to do this sort of prank. There's no such thing as ghosts." Confidently exclaiming her belief, Meredith silently watched the panic retain its hold over Reagan's face.
Stiffening up a bit, she nervously continued to laugh. "S-Seriously. T-there's no such thing, R-reagan. You do-" A thud interrupted her reassurance, originating from outside the manor. The two girls simply looked at one another before turning towards the door. It remained shut, although for half a second, as Meredith blinked, she seemed to peer into something nonexistent. The room, in that instant, had been crumbled, burnt to ash, with no wall to speak of. Yet, it remained pristine when her eyes fluttered back to normal.
"The...fuck?" She mumbled to herself, as Reagan shambled slowly, wearily approaching the door. As she peeled the door back, yanking on the handle, she breathed a relieved sigh when Marvin stumbled into her arms. Said relief, however, was incredibly short lived, as a crimson liquid seeped into her celestial themed shirt.
Marvin, gasping and wheezing with every drawn breath, had been grievously injured. Claw marks draped themselves from his now missing right ear, to the pocket of the hips. Chunks of his arm were vacant from their typical resting points as well, with bone protruding unevenly from the gaps.
"JESUS FUCKI-" Interrupted by retching, Meredith's stomach threatened to flee her body as she soaked in what was standing before her. Running Marvin to the chair, the pair began screaming for Jeremy. When he came in, he paused, shocked by the look on his face.
"Who the fuck's'at?" He curtly questioned, pointing at what was Marvin, only for the pair to see someone entirely unfamiliar. Grizzled, an elderly man appeared to be just as mangled as they'd thought Marvin was. "W-W-W-" "Marv-Mar-" "Christ, what the fuck are you two doing? Call the fucking cops'r somethin'!" Jeremy snatched the phone from Reagan's hand, only for the gray haired man to interject.
"W-Whahghtughr." With a look, Jeremy had all but told Meredith to get the man some water, which she rushed towards what she assumed was the Kitchen to oblige. As she stumbled, nearly dropping the fancy glass as she lowered it to the faucet, tears began to well in her eyes. "WHY WHY WHY" All that ran through her mind was confusion, how could that not be Marvin. It was Marvin. There was no question, no doubt. Yet... it wasn't. It objectively wasn't.
When she came back, she handed the man some water. He, however, recoiled. "WHAT THE FUCK'S WRONG WITH YOU, MEREDITH!?" The glass was snatched from her hands by Jeremy. Upon reviewing it, she nearly choked on her own stomach again. Septic, filth and bile filled the cup, as roaches skittered in a futile bid to escape the depths of the sludge.
"J-Just go fucking sit down, holy shit..." Jeremy barked, frustrated and visibly stressed at the situation. The operator on the line continued to ask him to hold, as the number of calls received tonight had been 'high'.
As Meredith sat, she noticed the man's gaze. It was affixed on her, and a crooked smile seeped over his face, only for a moment. When she blinked, he was unconscious as he'd been prior. Beginning to hyperventilate, Meredith got up to walk around the house. Unbothered, and concerned more so with the man clearly on death's door, neither of the two spoke up.
As she went up the staircase, she heard rattling. As though a pipe were clacking against a wall, or twig against a window, there was a perpetual rattle. When she entered the room that seemed to be the source of said disturbance, she found herself in a desolate, decrepit tomb of a room.
A shrine, depicting an unrecognized man sat with candles lit before it. A concession box was lain beside it, with a towel cloaking an unknown figure beneath. Hesitant, she contemplated leaving, until the rattle resumed once more. With a horrid curiosity, her brain screamed in defiance to her body's action.
As she peeled the cloth back, what looked like a bulky, bloated body, turned to be worse. Lurching merely a hair's length from her cheek, a diamondback soared from beneath the cloth, slithering out into the hallway. Glancing back, she shrieked and fell before crawling opposite of the cloth.
Innumerable flies and maggots were swarming what looked to be rotten vegetation. An untold amount of apples festered, wholly decayed as the buffet for insects' stench finally assaulted her nostrils. Shambling out into the hall, the man who previously was injured grasped onto her arms abruptly.
"Don't you see?" He posed his question, wheezing between every syllable, his breath rancid with the smell of sulfur and death lingering behind his tongue. His eyes were fixed squarely onto her own, as his skin dropped from his face, distorted and unnatural as wrinkles spanned akin to what a corpse's flabby flesh may bear.
Screaming and thrashing, she punched firmly at the 'man's' face, only to find her boyfriend now keeling over with a bloody nose. "AUGH!? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, WHAT THE F- GA- DAMMIT!" Apologizing profusely, she tried to explain herself only for the cloth to be covering nothing.
"I SWEAR! IT WAS FUCKING REAL!" She continued, while Jeremy dismissed her delusions as stress induced hallucinations. "I can't fucking get emergency services, and I'm pretty g'damn sure that old ****'s dead. Kay? I don't need you fucking batshit on top'a it all. That damn bitch is alr-" "Don't talk about her like that, and I SAW WHAT I FUCKING SAW!" Meredith's interjection was met with her back pushed to the wall.
"Listen to me, god dammit." Jeremy sharply whispered, an inch from her face. "You both are fucking nuts. That's fine, I dig it. THIS AIN'T THE FACK'N TIME, THOUGH, GOT'T?" In disbelief at the dismissal, she pushed him off her and proceeded to venture downstairs, rushing out the front door.
"The fuck you going!?" He shouted from the porch. "FUCK YOU!" Her only response, in tandem with the middle finger, as she pushed past the gate. Walking down the street, she failed to notice any of the vehicles beside her.
Abruptly grabbed, however, a man apprehended her shoulders. "Young lady, from where do you come at this hour?" Shrugging them off without so much as looking, she was grabbed much more roughly, pushed onto the ground. It was then that she noticed. Paved road didn't exist beneath her, only sediment, gravel which pierced her tank-top, poking holes into the fabric.
"L-LET ME GH- HMGMMGHPH!!!" The man's hand covered her mouth, followed by a wedge of cotton shoved firmly between her teeth. "We've one here, men! One of the coven's most foul." A flurry of men stormed and eventually surrounded her, picking her up and shoving her into a carriage. She noticed Marvin, bound and held by two men in what looked to be frilled attire befitting the colonial era.
Gagged, with several bruises scattered across his face, Marvin's appearance began to terrify Meredith. Closing her eyes, she desperately repeated to herself that none of this was real. However, the pair were dragged off and into the woods. Entering a seemingly freshly constructed cabin, the two were held in place.
"The both of thee stand accused of heresy, treason against the almighty, and crimes of the occult. How thy plead, shall dictate thine trial." A man in a golden garment stated, holding a bible against his side as he approached Marvin. Eyeing the man, he tilted his jaw upright. "The man bears the mark'a satanael, a prophet of him, or perhaps even Aamon."
The surrounding men all gasped, as they observed Marvin's tattoo, a mere crucifix, which due to distortion and blood on his neck, made it look deformed, mangled even. Protesting through his gag, Marvin attempted to refute the charge, only to receive the book slamming against his cheek.
Crying out, Meredith attempted to shut her eyes, only to be forced to bear witness as well. "You reap what's sown, harlot. The dark prince has deceived thee into think your might usurps that of Christ. We, child, are of the lamb. You, are serpents to be cast where you belong." An uproar followed the man's remark towards Meredith, before several men converged onto Marvin.
Dragging him out, the congregation left the cabin, as they began to take Marvin towards what seemed to be a stake rising from a nearly harvested tree. "NNNGH! STHGHHP!!!" Meredith's shrieking, thrashing, and general nuisance outburst paused the mutilation. With the group coming back, and the seeming leader releasing the cotton from her mouth.
"Speak, witch." He uttered, awaiting her reply as the group kept hold of the still thrashing Marvin. "I-It was all me! I a-am the one who brought about s-sa-" A thunderous slap stung her. The piercing force drew small droplets of blood, which flicked across the forest's floor. "Silence, harlot! Speak no name aside the lord's in our presence. Your tongue is vile, just as your soul. Why would we believe the words of a heretic? I'm privy to the fact your sort are of the lesser intelligence, but you'd be wise to get some sense while you can." Twirling his hand, the men slammed Marvin to the floor, holding him steady.
Meredith, however, was now being dragged back into the cabin, the leader and follower who'd apprehended her being the only to enter it alongside her. "We shall extract the truth from you, foul wretch. Know that it shall be insufferable." Abruptly, her top was torn from her body, with the man who caught her now ripping it apart and peeling it from her figure.
The skirt similarly came undone as she was tossed onto the hay-coated floor. High-heels followed, as did her panties and bra. "What articles you have are none like I've seen. Further evidence." The leader remarked, tossing her t-shirt and skirt aside. "No morally righteous wench would wear such filth." Rolling her over, her arms were bound with rope to her ankles, leaving her hog-tied on the floor of the cabin.
The leader, kneeling before her, began to pull on her lip-rings. "S-STaUGHP! FUCKSAKE L-" Another violent slap rippled waves of anguish across her cheek as the man's ringed hand left an indent. "Silence, wretch. Know thy place, lest the lord invoke me to strike thy down here and now."
Glancing to his comrade, the leader's hand trailed across her taut stomach. Prodding along the black stud embedded into the hole, he cited further evidence. "The piercings defile the flesh. The mouth from whence lies spew, and the umbilical, from whence life feeds. The filth is evident."
Thrashing about, Meredith's face becomes flustered. Not on account of any perverse actions, but disgust towards the two men mockingly imprisoning her. The contempt had been incalculable, with hate fuming and festering within her soul.
Pushed back onto her stomach, her breasts flattened against the prickly hay, as the man who'd caught her tightly held onto her ankles. Meanwhile, the leader had begun to rummage through instruments littering one of the wooden tables.
Coming out with a horse brush, Meredith seemed confused. She dared not speak, however, as she knew he'd simply strike her again, and her face was already swollen on the right side thanks to his penchant for wanton violence.
With no warning, her sized 9 soles, narrow with a rounded top and pointed end, plush full-figured toes wagging in the air, ended up feeling the full embrace of the brush's sharp, sturdy, and stiff bristles. Once pristine, baby-soft soles now scrunched in an instant as her cheeks became aglow with rage. The swift strides, flicking his wrist and guide the brush from her pointed heel along the mid of the sole and up diving into the toes, drove her from silent to maddened in a heartbeat.
"MmP-GAHTYEAAHEAWAHAIGHT! STHAYAHAGUHP!" She really hadn't anticipated tickling to be employed as an 'interrogation', especially given that these lunatics were pretending to be at a witch-burning. Or at least, she believed it was pretend.
As a child, she'd never really been tickled. A few times, sure. Never enough to familiarize herself with the sensation, however. This? This wouldn't have mattered, there was no way to prepare oneself for such a vicious assault from the get go. Her heady laughter being to fester, filling the room with echoed chortles as the brush swiftly swept across the naked, delicate sole.
The bristles pushed past the wrinkling, which now resembled a crumpled piece of paper. Each little hair, each little tooth of the brush dug, sinking beneath the plush surface and against the muscles below, raking in violent strokes as a painter angered with his canvas. Bucking, her chest heaved with each breath, shrill laughter flooding from her lips as her lungs soaked in what little air they could.
"Confess who's truly brought about the unspeakable one, and relay to us their location, witch." The man demanded, twisting his wrist as he did so to rake the bristles across the fatty padding of her toes, tightly sinking the tines into the cake-like mass held up by the gangling stalks. Her eyes began to water, to say that her feet were among the most ticklish spots of her body, would be understating it.
With the caress and lap of toothed brush running amok across her helpless, uncurlable digits, she began to scream in response. "IAHAYAHAM MEHEYAHARCHGY STAHAYAGHUP TIHI-" Thrashing about, another brush began to run across both soles, vertically striding as they scraped across the heel and back towards the toes.
"EAEYAEHANHAYGHO NAHGYAO MAHAYGHRE! PLEAHYAHGSE AHAYAI AHYAHAGHTEIGHECKLING!" "I care not for your lies, harlot." The man coldly dismissed her confession, continuing as the scrubbing brushes painted ghostly soles a vibrant color of pink. "We may not harm thee without confession, but you shan't revel in a lick of respite til you've professed your sins, truthfully."
The man began to horribly speed the brushing up, running their sharpened ends across the mid of her soles, twisting his wrists so that the bristles not only indented the malleable tissue, but stabbed it while doing so, grating along every inch, every pore it passed over.
"IAAHAYABEHEYGEGH-- ST- AHAYAGHP!" Becoming short of breath, the torture subsided for a moment. Her panting, wheezing a sign of oncoming exhaustion. Leaning in, kneeling beside her, the man forcefully rose her head as he spoke coldly to her gaze.
"Your flesh will be cleansed one way or another, you vile cretin. Know that the lord watches over all, he has assigned you frailties apt to your treason." Dropping her head, she resumed her panting only for her body to be rolled over. Laying on her side, the man began to open a door across from her, opposite of her viewing range.
Some clattering was heard, before sprinklings of... some matter befell her tired soles, and nestled themselves into her toes. "S-Stahaughp. I beg you... p-plehease... c-can't take this... I'm the w-witch. I dihid it." No response came from her gasping confession. It resonated with her, though she refused to accept the thought. They wouldn't believe a woman could do something they believed efficient.
If this coven was such a threat, as they implied, it must be a man behind it. She remembered all the talk of witches being 'manipulated' by satan, brides of the devil, all blame enacted on the women, but attributed to a man's will. They'd never stop, not so long as she states she did it.
With once more, no warning, a brash tongue slobbered across the naked heel of her right foot, eliciting a horrified shriek. "EEEYAEH? STHAYAGHP! NoNONO! PLEAYUEAYAGHSE!" Crying out in hysteria once more, a cacophony of chortling and begging followed rough, bumped tongues slathering sickly saliva across the delicate skin.
The elongated tongue wrapped, coiling around her big toe as it fluttered here and there, cleaning her foot of the substance sprinkled onto it. It wasn't human, this was an animal, it was too longue, too coordinated and hastily moving. It was hell. "MAHEAYEAHAKEITSTAHAHAYGHP!" She had screamed just as loud as she had before.
The saliva coated the foot into a skating rink for the alien appendage to wander unobstructed. It missed no inch, from the cushions of her peds, to the stalks, arches, and all down the soles. When they were cleaned? Her respite was short lived as more sprinklings looped the hell anew.
When the second round ended, she'd been drooling, silently crying to herself before the animal was brought around once more. "N-nngh...o...more" Whispering, she was shoved onto her back.
Meeting her face, a goat glared emptily into her eyes. held onto by the man that brought her here in the first place. Her stomach, sinking and rising rapidly, began to receive a smothering downpour of what she now recognized as salt. From the waist, towards the ribs and just beneath her bosom, with her navel entirely filled.
"Confess." The man demanded, readying to signal for the goat to be freed. "P-Ple..I..di-" Before she could finish, the tongue had begun to wander beneath her breast, slashing itself across the wafer-thin tissue coating her ribs. "AHEAYAHA DIDHYAHADIT! STOPSTOPSHAYHATP!" Shrieking, the men held her steadily as she otherwise would've assuredly bucked away.
As the goat's tongue slid across her ribs, bumps grating and grinding across the silken skin, it left soft little marks painting a sordid message into her flesh. Her chest rattled, chaotically clambering to soak air in before forcing it back out, while her belly sank into itself in horror.
Her stomach was admittedly a point which she was least proud of. Certainly, it was by no means littered with excess, and was indeed rather slim. However, it was squishy, softer than it was firm. Taut when sucked in, but when not, it proved capable of being pinched, plucked at. A fact she loathed, given her aspirations of athletic pursuits.
Swimming, however, would not save her in the present. The tongue swirled across the midriff, circling her shallow oval like a vulture waiting to swoop on a fresh kill. As the stomach became nude, and only the salty sea stirred within her button, the tongue plunged itself into the hole.
It pierced the rim, curling into itself as it proved too girthy to actually fit fully into the button. As such, the bulbous tongue sipped and supped, flicking in and out in rapid succession, allowing the sharpened end to scrape from bottom to top along the interior wall, crawling and carving into the floor with wanton cruelty behind each lap.
"MAEYAEHAK- ATHAHA... ST-STHAY-" Her laughter became choking, as the tongue's persistence suckling along her stomach brought her into a quiet fit once more. As her stomach turned red, the tongue withdrew once every lick of salt was... licked.
"M-mehercy... pl-" Her mouth was gagged once more with cotton, as the man stood over her and began to sprinkle salt once more across her exhausted torso. "PLGHGHS! NNNGH!" Despite the begging, once again her midriff found itself target of a torturous serpent crawling across it.
The belly sank, capitulating to the weight of the tongue, and indenting, impressing the imprint with every twist, every tilt or jab lain by the abhorrent appendage. The muscles, exhausted, weak, and burning, began to violently spasm. Every laugh stabbed at her lungs, harder than it did her tortured core.
By the time it'd ended for the second round, she'd lost control of her bladder, staining the hay beneath. When the trickling of shameful yellow subsided, the leader once more spoke in a condemning tone. "Vile." The man spoke, dismissing the goat back to its pen as he made his follower clean her mess. "Confess your crimes, lest you suffer further anguish, lecher."
"I...be-" She choked on her own spit, coughing heavily, she looked on with tear-stained cheeks as she begged knowingly in vain. "S-stop this... h-have mercy... le-let me go to prison... please!" Without words, the man straddled the woman, as he untied her bindings, dragging her by her hair towards the end of the cabin, before tying her right wrist to the overhead railing, whilst the left similarly stood upright.
The height forced her to stand on her toes. "Please... PLEASE PLEASE! NO MORE! FOR THE LOVE OF GO-" A horrific ringing echoed in her ears, as her face began to swell, blood trickling from her lips briefly as another harsh lash crossed her cheek. "*****! DO NOT SPEAK OF HIS NAME, LEST YE'R READY TO SWEAR THYSELF TO HIM!"
Following an unsettling quiet, the follower returned with a bucket. Setting the bucket before Meredith, the leader sank his hand into the matter, before rubbing it into her right armpit. The process of which, itself, triggered her nerves into a gentle tickling, causing her to grit her teeth and twist about aimlessly amidst begging.
"PLehEyease! I did it! Ihi'm the EhEhwiHitch! STAHAyaghp!" No response. Instead, the leader was handed the horse-brush, and her eyes shot open wider than ever. "NONONO! NO NO N-" Scrubbing. Shrieking followed, the shrill scraping sound of sharpened tines and spikes prodding and tilling ticklish tissue with each flutter of the wrist. Scrubbing the hairy brush from the sunken shallow depths of the pit, down towards her breast, the raking prickly hairs sank into the flesh like a hot knife through butter.
The lotion, as she figured it might be, aided the carving ends of each tine to skate across the ticklish skin with precision unattainable otherwise."AYEAHAEHA CAHAYANGH'T TAHYAEAHAKEIT! MEHEYEARCHGY! PLEAYEAHEAHSE! STAH-" Choking once more on her spit, she began to realize there wasn't merely one scrubbing brush, but two. The follower had taken to raking his own horse-brush along her heels, jumping from foot to foot as lotion slathered down her soles, etched into the dainty skin by sharp mawed brushes.
"BAYHAEYAA BEHEAYLEHEASE! PLEYE- Pl- P-" Falling quiet, the scrubbing persisted as one pit filled with blush, the leader merely swapped to the virgin pit. Meredith's chest flung itself constantly, rattling with each cackle, each anguished exclamation of mirth drew her bosom into a bouncing fit.
Though not exceptional in size, the B-cup's were perky enough that the leader took note of them, and made to exploiting them all the same. Cupping the left breast within his head, whilst his colleague continued to rake the brush across her soles, the man began to dust beneath the breast tissue.
"NAYAHAGHOMHAHAR-" Once more, she'd begun to choke, her lungs drawing deficits as she fell silent. Wheezing pumped her lungs, rattling her stomach into a quivering, spasming fit, indicating the torture was still efficient, thus perpetuating it. As the bristles licked beneath the fatty mounds, the man tilted his wrist so that the top of the brush would graze the underside of her hardened nipple with each strumming spurt of motion.
Every harsh grating glide, painted more misery into her nerves as tines tapped incessantly, hungrily on the doughy flesh, craving and chipping at the surface in a bid to have at the raw nerves. Before long, her head grew heavy, the tickling began to induce pulsing, pounding headaches into her.
As the lights flickered, the follower's brushing had entered her legs, crossing over her thighs. Molding the cake-like squish of the inner thigh into a ravenously chewed, ticklish hell. The bristles slowly but surely threatened to venture further up, only to inverse their positioning and bleed into her backside. With her rounded bottom becoming a dry erase board, and the follower determined to erase every last bit of white.
Within a matter of ten, maybe twenty minutes of the process, she'd passed out with an unbearable pain pounding her temples. As she came back to, she was greeted by bindings holding her onto a stake. Naked, as she had been, she looked over to see Marvin. His body reddened just as hers had been, with similar marked carved into his skin.
As she scanned her surroundings, she felt hands groping at her sides. A thumb wedged itself firmly into her back, resting as it pressed against the small of her backside. Tilting inwards, two sharpened nails sank against the muscle as they'd begun swiveling, twirling in place while the eight remaining digits all sunk into squeezing fits across the front of her body. The edges of her belly began to quiver, vibrating as her sides were relentlessly kneaded. Every weave, every buck forwards or back, futile.
Palms remained planted, the digits remained aligned along her curves, and steadily curled only to uncurl in the same second. "MEYEAHAEHARCHEYEHY! STHAYAHAGHP! NOHAHGAGO MAHAYRAHGE!" Crying out in genuine agony now, she'd craved the release of death, a life of servitude in some medieval prison, anything over this torturous mockery.
Before her, a man approached with two more horse-brushes, proceeding to run them rabidly across her ribs. The tines pinched between the bones, clasping and dragging against the thin layer coating them, probing between, painting their outline with reddened marks. Only to dive down, gliding over the navel and piercing the hips, running along the lower lips only to raise back towards the ribs.
Her cackling turned to incoherent blathering, before waning into a faint whine, only to fall silent. Tears blinded her, only alerting her to more torture as a tongue returned to curl and coil around her toes, dragging and pulling them into splayed positions so that it may suckle the salt up. A faint gust of breath entering her ears, before a tongue probed the lobe and delivered its message:
"Do you see?" The man asked, the old man to be specific. The grayed individual who feigned Marvin's appearance. The one who'd threatened her. He now stuck his tongue into her ear, mocking her, laughing in jest at her own miserable mirth.
"HEYAEHALP MEHEYEAHEA" The last words she managed to screech before once again, spreading the ground with golden trickles, and spreading her consciousness thin into slumber.
As she woke, she had been faced with only the man. He held with him a lone apple, to which he offered Meredith. "Take of it, my child. I can only aid you if you accept my blessing." Without thought, she'd bitten into the fruit extended before her face, only to feel a pounding against her chest.
"Fuck, Can you see them!? CAN YOU SEE?" Jeremy screamed, desperately pummeling Meredith's chest as she woke groggy on the floor where she'd been attacked by the snake prior.
"HOLY SHIT! MEREDITH! WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY!?" Jeremy asked Marvin, who was standing on the phone with what she assumed was emergency dispatch. "W-Wha-" "Don't try to stand, just wait, okay? You'll be fine... I promise!"
Jeremy reassured her, as Reagan paced the room. "What sort of fucking house has a rattlesnake!? What the hell?" "T-the old man..." "Huh?" Jeremy perked, looking at Meredith with concern. "Where's the old man?" She resumed, to which Reagan knelt next to her.
"You were talking about an old man, even though I TOLD MARVIN NOT TO SCARE YOU... but it was just Marvin. He dressed up in some old devil outfit, bloodied himself, and then you just freaked. We've been trying to re-" "NO." Meredith injected, clasping at Reagan's collar.
"Bullshit, you saw him! I know you did. You said you didn't move the pi-" "Baby, calm down. You got some harsh fucking bite. I got as much as I could out, but I dunno what it did t'ya."
As Meredith was examined by the ambulance crew, she stared on, exhausted, stuck in disbelief at the nature of this supposed 'trip'. In the corner of her eyes, however, she made out a figure shuffling behind a closed curtain at the top of the manor. One housing the same physique as the man, issuing a mere wave before fading into oblivion.
Anxiously, Meredith burst into laughter, proceeding to bleed into maddened sobbing.
Lastly, the presentation format is probably hard to read, since I type these things in Obsidian and the formatting doesn't seem to transition very well. As such, if you would rather read it in a (somewhat) more clustered sort of format, I direct you to the story's alternative location: Here.
Anywho, on with the show.
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"What about that place?" Meredith asked, pointing out a dilapidated manor not far from the town's outskirts. "No way, you wanna get jumped by junkies?" Marvin snipped, turning his attention back to the road. "We need somewhere that won't get us killed." Continuing, he prattled on about the potential of junkies and homeless vagrants who may or may not harbor ill-will towards the group.
"Yeah, but doesn't Jeremy own a knife?" Reagan chimed in from the backseat. "He does, see? We can use that place!" Excitement palpable in her tone, Meredith playfully smacked Marvin's arm, to which he snapped back. "Heyhey, no! I'm driving, you want us to crash!?" "It was barely even a slap, you big baby."
Sinking into the seat, Meredith watched as the car pulled off to the side of the road. Stepping out, she gave the manor a brief look-over. "It seems about right. What all do we even need?" She asked, glancing back to Reagan. "Just a few candles and an Ouija."
"I really don't think this is a good idea, guys. My brother's a pr-" "Relax, preacher-boy. Ghosts aren't real, and neither are demons." Meredith exclaimed confidently. "It's just a fun way to spend Halloween~!" Cheerfully slapping the hood of the sedan, Meredith jumped back into the passenger seat while the two looked over the yard in front of the home.
Grass which should be green, had wilted due to neglect. Soil reclaimed the land from the foreign import, as the grass dissolved into a sickly shade of golden brown. Patches proved to be muddy, sunken into the earth as accumulated pools swelled with each rainy day that came and forgot to leave.
Windows were shattered, the walls looked burnt to a crisp in some sections, yet, they went with it. It was going to be a killer Halloween, paranoid delusions shouldn't dissuade fun while fun can be had.
When Meredith was dropped off, Marvin shouted before pulling off. "Be ready at 10, I swear if you're late we're not doing this! I'm not having a repeat of last year!" Flipping him the bird in a loving manner, Meredith returned to her room.
Neglecting to reply to her Mother's request to take her little brother trick-or-treating, she merely barked back with a slothful shrug followed by a head-shake. Scowling, her mother followed her up to her room in order to receive a proper answer.
"What do you have that's so important you can't take Kyle out? You got to go when you were his age!" Groaning in annoyance, Meredith lashed out "Mom, I'm leaving for college, this is my last fuck-" "LANGUAGE!" Further groaning at her mother's interruption, she briefly composed herself.
"It's my last year here... I want to spend it WITH MY FRIENDS." Rummaging through her drawer, Meredith scoffed at her mother's subsequent questioning. "And what, Kyle's not a friend? He's YOUR BROTHER!" Turning around, miniskirt and tank top in tow, she murmured her reply. "He's not my brother, he's Gerald's son. That doesn't make us related."
While her mother raged, screaming about familial bonds transcending blood, and being about union, Meredith ditched her dress-shirt and jeans in favor of the lighter load attire. Cloaked in raven skirt, which blossomed into plume-like ends resting along the mid-point of her thighs, the top was no more so covered. A tank-top at least one size smaller than usual, giving off the skin-tight look, hugged her slender frame. Applying a thicker layer of eyeliner than usual, topping it off with black-lipstick, Meredith looked at herself in the mirror.
Paper skin, caramel colored eyes, partially covered by hair draping down one side of her face. The white-dyed hair spanned towards her chest, and had been fixed expressly to hug her left side. Putting her snakebites into her lips, she'd left the bathroom and once more fell into her mother's radar.
"Where do you think you're going dressed like that!? This isn't another thing with Jeremy, right? That boy has a rec-" "MOM! I'm eighteen, for christ sake. I'm allowed to leave the damn house, for ONE FUCKING NIGHT!" Another screaming rage ensued, even after Meredith had slammed the door shut, and proceeded to venture towards the meeting point an hour early.
She realized, by the time that she'd been halfway towards the meetup, she left her phone on the counter. She was in such a frazzled state, drowned in rage, that she left it just lying there. Smacking herself figuratively, she kept on.
"Oh shit, you're early?" Jeremy noted, giving Meredith a hug before a peck on the lips. "Guys, are you sure we don't want to do somewhere else?" Marvin cautiously inquired, pointing out the various holes in the lawn.
"Are you... afraid of some fucking dirt, Marv? Jesus." "No! I'm ju-" "Relax, Marvin. It's not actually haunted." Reagan reminded him, pushing the Ouija board into his hands before approaching the gate.
"How'd you even get the keys?" Looking towards Jeremy, Reagan simply smiled, flashing doe-eyes as she answered. "Dad's the sheriff, dumbass." As she twisted the key into the lock, he turned towards Meredith. "That didn't explain anything, did it?" To which, she simply shrugged.
As the gate creaked open, the group began along the cobblestone path towards the stairs. "S-So what are we even doing?" "Christ, Marv, stop freaking out. We're doing whatever the fuck we want, before we live this shithole." Jeremy's response did nothing to satiate Marvin's curiosity or to quell his doubts, but Reagan's opening of the door surprisingly did.
The interior seemed surprisingly pristine. Whereas from the outside it looked to be a decayed, burnt abomination, lucky to even be standing. Inside, it looked to be a freshly kept palace. The stairs were polished wood, the walls were spotless with seemingly that new paint smell. Mirrors rested around every corner, furnishings were antiquated, but pristine and tidy all the same.
Despite the victorian era chairs, gothic tables with jagged edges, and a fireplace looking like it was meant to cook a person whole, it seemed brand-new. "I-I thought you guys said this was abandoned?" "Who fucking knows. Maybe some realtor's trying to flip it, man." Jeremy discarded Marvin's concerns once more, proceeding to slam the door behind the group.
"Jesus, Jeremy, we're still fucking breaking in. Don't alert the neighbors. They're probably gonna call the cops if you do stupid shit here." Rolling his eyes at Reagan's concern, he dropped himself onto the chair nearest to the fireplace, kicking his feet up and laying them on the counter.
"OI! GHOSTS! COME FUCKING OUT! IT'S THE DEVIL'S DAY, Y'PIECES A'SHIT!!" His scream echoed through the entrance, and ascended up the three floors above. Everyone simultaneously telling him to shut up, similarly bounced between the walls.
"Christ, there's no one fucking here, you babies. What the hell's wrong with'ya?" "Can we focus?" Reagan injected, setting the Ouija board onto the table that Marvin once had his feet on, having shoved them aside to make way for said board. "Now, everyone sit around, and hold hands. I'm gonna light the candle, and start the incantation."
As the group circled around the table, each slowly joining hands, Reagan began to light a series of wax candles they'd brought into the manor. Upon lighting the final, she proceeded to grab Marvin's and Jeremy's hand, whilst reciting seemingly some inane trite found online.
"In nomine dei nostri satanas luciferi excelsi! Dark spirits, we call upon thee to imbue us with your might. Regale us lowly mortals with tales from the infernal depths! Sing to us the songs of Tartarus oh lord of light!"
A moment of silence stirred following the incantation. Nothing... no movement, no uneasy breaths drawn, simply stasis. Were it any other setting, any other situation, that may in and of itself appear daunting or disconcerting. However, given the silliness of the situation, it was about what was expected.
"OH SHIT!" Jeremy's outburst caused Marvin to release both hands and jolt back, as though something had lurched from the board and towards him. Naturally, Jeremy fell backwards as he mockingly laughed at Marvin's overreaction. Slapping Jeremy's shoulder, Meredith berated him. "That's not funny, you know how-" "Can we focus, please!?" Reagan asked, impatiently waiting for the childish distraction to subside.
"N-no, no. I'm not doing this. My b-brother was right, we shouldn't be playing with this stuff." Marvin barreled towards the door, pushing it open and disappearing behind it. Reagan, jumping up, shouted for the boy and met the door, only to find him nowhere behind it.
"Marvin?" She cried out. "He's fucking with'ya, he's all pissy." Jeremy's explanation was taken as sufficient, as Reagan backed away from the door, and settled herself back to the board. Her hand placed onto the chip laying dormant atop it. "Let's resume." She cleared her throat amidst her speaking, looking to Meredith for some reassurance that Marvin was just playing some out of ordinary prank.
As the three held a hand each on the chip, Reagan began to question the beyond. "Are there any spirits here?" Moments passed, only for the chip to move. "A" "S" "JEREMY!" Reagan shouted as the chip moved only to return to another 'S' laughing, Jeremy simply shrugged. "The ghost's got tast-" "Stop fucking around!" She demanded once more, as the chip continued to move towards the skull painted haphazardly along the top of the board.
"I'm not doing it! One of you are, don't bitch't me!" His exclamation led to Meredith slapping his shoulder once more. "C'mon, stop messing with us. It's not funny." Despite the two of them having let go of the chip, Reagan stared at the board with a mortified expression.
"S"..."E"..."E". "The hell does that even mean, Rea? Don't bullshit us, christ." Jeremy stood, scoffing at the chip before glossing over the room. "SEE WHAT, HUH YA FUCKING CASPER?" Turning back to face Reagan, whose hand remained on the chip, he once more belittled the presumed prank. "This shit's for literal children. Why the fuck aren't we drinking? Y'know what! I bet this place has some tweaker's stash'a lightnin'. They couldn't'a gotten it all~" Excited by his own random accusation, he turned towards Meredith who simply shook her head.
"Whatever, you girls stay 'ere, I'm gonn'a get us a real party when I find ole bubba's stash." Reagan, continuing to look mortified at the stilled chip, turned to face Meredith with watery eyes. "W-W-we'vegottago." Whispering, practically inaudible in said delivery, Meredith simply leaned closer to hear what she said.
"I didn't do it." She repeated, releasing the chip and slowly inching away from the board. Meredith, thinking it a joke, burst into laughter. "Oho come on! Don't try to do this sort of prank. There's no such thing as ghosts." Confidently exclaiming her belief, Meredith silently watched the panic retain its hold over Reagan's face.
Stiffening up a bit, she nervously continued to laugh. "S-Seriously. T-there's no such thing, R-reagan. You do-" A thud interrupted her reassurance, originating from outside the manor. The two girls simply looked at one another before turning towards the door. It remained shut, although for half a second, as Meredith blinked, she seemed to peer into something nonexistent. The room, in that instant, had been crumbled, burnt to ash, with no wall to speak of. Yet, it remained pristine when her eyes fluttered back to normal.
"The...fuck?" She mumbled to herself, as Reagan shambled slowly, wearily approaching the door. As she peeled the door back, yanking on the handle, she breathed a relieved sigh when Marvin stumbled into her arms. Said relief, however, was incredibly short lived, as a crimson liquid seeped into her celestial themed shirt.
Marvin, gasping and wheezing with every drawn breath, had been grievously injured. Claw marks draped themselves from his now missing right ear, to the pocket of the hips. Chunks of his arm were vacant from their typical resting points as well, with bone protruding unevenly from the gaps.
"JESUS FUCKI-" Interrupted by retching, Meredith's stomach threatened to flee her body as she soaked in what was standing before her. Running Marvin to the chair, the pair began screaming for Jeremy. When he came in, he paused, shocked by the look on his face.
"Who the fuck's'at?" He curtly questioned, pointing at what was Marvin, only for the pair to see someone entirely unfamiliar. Grizzled, an elderly man appeared to be just as mangled as they'd thought Marvin was. "W-W-W-" "Marv-Mar-" "Christ, what the fuck are you two doing? Call the fucking cops'r somethin'!" Jeremy snatched the phone from Reagan's hand, only for the gray haired man to interject.
"W-Whahghtughr." With a look, Jeremy had all but told Meredith to get the man some water, which she rushed towards what she assumed was the Kitchen to oblige. As she stumbled, nearly dropping the fancy glass as she lowered it to the faucet, tears began to well in her eyes. "WHY WHY WHY" All that ran through her mind was confusion, how could that not be Marvin. It was Marvin. There was no question, no doubt. Yet... it wasn't. It objectively wasn't.
When she came back, she handed the man some water. He, however, recoiled. "WHAT THE FUCK'S WRONG WITH YOU, MEREDITH!?" The glass was snatched from her hands by Jeremy. Upon reviewing it, she nearly choked on her own stomach again. Septic, filth and bile filled the cup, as roaches skittered in a futile bid to escape the depths of the sludge.
"J-Just go fucking sit down, holy shit..." Jeremy barked, frustrated and visibly stressed at the situation. The operator on the line continued to ask him to hold, as the number of calls received tonight had been 'high'.
As Meredith sat, she noticed the man's gaze. It was affixed on her, and a crooked smile seeped over his face, only for a moment. When she blinked, he was unconscious as he'd been prior. Beginning to hyperventilate, Meredith got up to walk around the house. Unbothered, and concerned more so with the man clearly on death's door, neither of the two spoke up.
As she went up the staircase, she heard rattling. As though a pipe were clacking against a wall, or twig against a window, there was a perpetual rattle. When she entered the room that seemed to be the source of said disturbance, she found herself in a desolate, decrepit tomb of a room.
A shrine, depicting an unrecognized man sat with candles lit before it. A concession box was lain beside it, with a towel cloaking an unknown figure beneath. Hesitant, she contemplated leaving, until the rattle resumed once more. With a horrid curiosity, her brain screamed in defiance to her body's action.
As she peeled the cloth back, what looked like a bulky, bloated body, turned to be worse. Lurching merely a hair's length from her cheek, a diamondback soared from beneath the cloth, slithering out into the hallway. Glancing back, she shrieked and fell before crawling opposite of the cloth.
Innumerable flies and maggots were swarming what looked to be rotten vegetation. An untold amount of apples festered, wholly decayed as the buffet for insects' stench finally assaulted her nostrils. Shambling out into the hall, the man who previously was injured grasped onto her arms abruptly.
"Don't you see?" He posed his question, wheezing between every syllable, his breath rancid with the smell of sulfur and death lingering behind his tongue. His eyes were fixed squarely onto her own, as his skin dropped from his face, distorted and unnatural as wrinkles spanned akin to what a corpse's flabby flesh may bear.
Screaming and thrashing, she punched firmly at the 'man's' face, only to find her boyfriend now keeling over with a bloody nose. "AUGH!? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, WHAT THE F- GA- DAMMIT!" Apologizing profusely, she tried to explain herself only for the cloth to be covering nothing.
"I SWEAR! IT WAS FUCKING REAL!" She continued, while Jeremy dismissed her delusions as stress induced hallucinations. "I can't fucking get emergency services, and I'm pretty g'damn sure that old ****'s dead. Kay? I don't need you fucking batshit on top'a it all. That damn bitch is alr-" "Don't talk about her like that, and I SAW WHAT I FUCKING SAW!" Meredith's interjection was met with her back pushed to the wall.
"Listen to me, god dammit." Jeremy sharply whispered, an inch from her face. "You both are fucking nuts. That's fine, I dig it. THIS AIN'T THE FACK'N TIME, THOUGH, GOT'T?" In disbelief at the dismissal, she pushed him off her and proceeded to venture downstairs, rushing out the front door.
"The fuck you going!?" He shouted from the porch. "FUCK YOU!" Her only response, in tandem with the middle finger, as she pushed past the gate. Walking down the street, she failed to notice any of the vehicles beside her.
Abruptly grabbed, however, a man apprehended her shoulders. "Young lady, from where do you come at this hour?" Shrugging them off without so much as looking, she was grabbed much more roughly, pushed onto the ground. It was then that she noticed. Paved road didn't exist beneath her, only sediment, gravel which pierced her tank-top, poking holes into the fabric.
"L-LET ME GH- HMGMMGHPH!!!" The man's hand covered her mouth, followed by a wedge of cotton shoved firmly between her teeth. "We've one here, men! One of the coven's most foul." A flurry of men stormed and eventually surrounded her, picking her up and shoving her into a carriage. She noticed Marvin, bound and held by two men in what looked to be frilled attire befitting the colonial era.
Gagged, with several bruises scattered across his face, Marvin's appearance began to terrify Meredith. Closing her eyes, she desperately repeated to herself that none of this was real. However, the pair were dragged off and into the woods. Entering a seemingly freshly constructed cabin, the two were held in place.
"The both of thee stand accused of heresy, treason against the almighty, and crimes of the occult. How thy plead, shall dictate thine trial." A man in a golden garment stated, holding a bible against his side as he approached Marvin. Eyeing the man, he tilted his jaw upright. "The man bears the mark'a satanael, a prophet of him, or perhaps even Aamon."
The surrounding men all gasped, as they observed Marvin's tattoo, a mere crucifix, which due to distortion and blood on his neck, made it look deformed, mangled even. Protesting through his gag, Marvin attempted to refute the charge, only to receive the book slamming against his cheek.
Crying out, Meredith attempted to shut her eyes, only to be forced to bear witness as well. "You reap what's sown, harlot. The dark prince has deceived thee into think your might usurps that of Christ. We, child, are of the lamb. You, are serpents to be cast where you belong." An uproar followed the man's remark towards Meredith, before several men converged onto Marvin.
Dragging him out, the congregation left the cabin, as they began to take Marvin towards what seemed to be a stake rising from a nearly harvested tree. "NNNGH! STHGHHP!!!" Meredith's shrieking, thrashing, and general nuisance outburst paused the mutilation. With the group coming back, and the seeming leader releasing the cotton from her mouth.
"Speak, witch." He uttered, awaiting her reply as the group kept hold of the still thrashing Marvin. "I-It was all me! I a-am the one who brought about s-sa-" A thunderous slap stung her. The piercing force drew small droplets of blood, which flicked across the forest's floor. "Silence, harlot! Speak no name aside the lord's in our presence. Your tongue is vile, just as your soul. Why would we believe the words of a heretic? I'm privy to the fact your sort are of the lesser intelligence, but you'd be wise to get some sense while you can." Twirling his hand, the men slammed Marvin to the floor, holding him steady.
Meredith, however, was now being dragged back into the cabin, the leader and follower who'd apprehended her being the only to enter it alongside her. "We shall extract the truth from you, foul wretch. Know that it shall be insufferable." Abruptly, her top was torn from her body, with the man who caught her now ripping it apart and peeling it from her figure.
The skirt similarly came undone as she was tossed onto the hay-coated floor. High-heels followed, as did her panties and bra. "What articles you have are none like I've seen. Further evidence." The leader remarked, tossing her t-shirt and skirt aside. "No morally righteous wench would wear such filth." Rolling her over, her arms were bound with rope to her ankles, leaving her hog-tied on the floor of the cabin.
The leader, kneeling before her, began to pull on her lip-rings. "S-STaUGHP! FUCKSAKE L-" Another violent slap rippled waves of anguish across her cheek as the man's ringed hand left an indent. "Silence, wretch. Know thy place, lest the lord invoke me to strike thy down here and now."
Glancing to his comrade, the leader's hand trailed across her taut stomach. Prodding along the black stud embedded into the hole, he cited further evidence. "The piercings defile the flesh. The mouth from whence lies spew, and the umbilical, from whence life feeds. The filth is evident."
Thrashing about, Meredith's face becomes flustered. Not on account of any perverse actions, but disgust towards the two men mockingly imprisoning her. The contempt had been incalculable, with hate fuming and festering within her soul.
Pushed back onto her stomach, her breasts flattened against the prickly hay, as the man who'd caught her tightly held onto her ankles. Meanwhile, the leader had begun to rummage through instruments littering one of the wooden tables.
Coming out with a horse brush, Meredith seemed confused. She dared not speak, however, as she knew he'd simply strike her again, and her face was already swollen on the right side thanks to his penchant for wanton violence.
With no warning, her sized 9 soles, narrow with a rounded top and pointed end, plush full-figured toes wagging in the air, ended up feeling the full embrace of the brush's sharp, sturdy, and stiff bristles. Once pristine, baby-soft soles now scrunched in an instant as her cheeks became aglow with rage. The swift strides, flicking his wrist and guide the brush from her pointed heel along the mid of the sole and up diving into the toes, drove her from silent to maddened in a heartbeat.
"MmP-GAHTYEAAHEAWAHAIGHT! STHAYAHAGUHP!" She really hadn't anticipated tickling to be employed as an 'interrogation', especially given that these lunatics were pretending to be at a witch-burning. Or at least, she believed it was pretend.
As a child, she'd never really been tickled. A few times, sure. Never enough to familiarize herself with the sensation, however. This? This wouldn't have mattered, there was no way to prepare oneself for such a vicious assault from the get go. Her heady laughter being to fester, filling the room with echoed chortles as the brush swiftly swept across the naked, delicate sole.
The bristles pushed past the wrinkling, which now resembled a crumpled piece of paper. Each little hair, each little tooth of the brush dug, sinking beneath the plush surface and against the muscles below, raking in violent strokes as a painter angered with his canvas. Bucking, her chest heaved with each breath, shrill laughter flooding from her lips as her lungs soaked in what little air they could.
"Confess who's truly brought about the unspeakable one, and relay to us their location, witch." The man demanded, twisting his wrist as he did so to rake the bristles across the fatty padding of her toes, tightly sinking the tines into the cake-like mass held up by the gangling stalks. Her eyes began to water, to say that her feet were among the most ticklish spots of her body, would be understating it.
With the caress and lap of toothed brush running amok across her helpless, uncurlable digits, she began to scream in response. "IAHAYAHAM MEHEYAHARCHGY STAHAYAGHUP TIHI-" Thrashing about, another brush began to run across both soles, vertically striding as they scraped across the heel and back towards the toes.
"EAEYAEHANHAYGHO NAHGYAO MAHAYGHRE! PLEAHYAHGSE AHAYAI AHYAHAGHTEIGHECKLING!" "I care not for your lies, harlot." The man coldly dismissed her confession, continuing as the scrubbing brushes painted ghostly soles a vibrant color of pink. "We may not harm thee without confession, but you shan't revel in a lick of respite til you've professed your sins, truthfully."
The man began to horribly speed the brushing up, running their sharpened ends across the mid of her soles, twisting his wrists so that the bristles not only indented the malleable tissue, but stabbed it while doing so, grating along every inch, every pore it passed over.
"IAAHAYABEHEYGEGH-- ST- AHAYAGHP!" Becoming short of breath, the torture subsided for a moment. Her panting, wheezing a sign of oncoming exhaustion. Leaning in, kneeling beside her, the man forcefully rose her head as he spoke coldly to her gaze.
"Your flesh will be cleansed one way or another, you vile cretin. Know that the lord watches over all, he has assigned you frailties apt to your treason." Dropping her head, she resumed her panting only for her body to be rolled over. Laying on her side, the man began to open a door across from her, opposite of her viewing range.
Some clattering was heard, before sprinklings of... some matter befell her tired soles, and nestled themselves into her toes. "S-Stahaughp. I beg you... p-plehease... c-can't take this... I'm the w-witch. I dihid it." No response came from her gasping confession. It resonated with her, though she refused to accept the thought. They wouldn't believe a woman could do something they believed efficient.
If this coven was such a threat, as they implied, it must be a man behind it. She remembered all the talk of witches being 'manipulated' by satan, brides of the devil, all blame enacted on the women, but attributed to a man's will. They'd never stop, not so long as she states she did it.
With once more, no warning, a brash tongue slobbered across the naked heel of her right foot, eliciting a horrified shriek. "EEEYAEH? STHAYAGHP! NoNONO! PLEAYUEAYAGHSE!" Crying out in hysteria once more, a cacophony of chortling and begging followed rough, bumped tongues slathering sickly saliva across the delicate skin.
The elongated tongue wrapped, coiling around her big toe as it fluttered here and there, cleaning her foot of the substance sprinkled onto it. It wasn't human, this was an animal, it was too longue, too coordinated and hastily moving. It was hell. "MAHEAYEAHAKEITSTAHAHAYGHP!" She had screamed just as loud as she had before.
The saliva coated the foot into a skating rink for the alien appendage to wander unobstructed. It missed no inch, from the cushions of her peds, to the stalks, arches, and all down the soles. When they were cleaned? Her respite was short lived as more sprinklings looped the hell anew.
When the second round ended, she'd been drooling, silently crying to herself before the animal was brought around once more. "N-nngh...o...more" Whispering, she was shoved onto her back.
Meeting her face, a goat glared emptily into her eyes. held onto by the man that brought her here in the first place. Her stomach, sinking and rising rapidly, began to receive a smothering downpour of what she now recognized as salt. From the waist, towards the ribs and just beneath her bosom, with her navel entirely filled.
"Confess." The man demanded, readying to signal for the goat to be freed. "P-Ple..I..di-" Before she could finish, the tongue had begun to wander beneath her breast, slashing itself across the wafer-thin tissue coating her ribs. "AHEAYAHA DIDHYAHADIT! STOPSTOPSHAYHATP!" Shrieking, the men held her steadily as she otherwise would've assuredly bucked away.
As the goat's tongue slid across her ribs, bumps grating and grinding across the silken skin, it left soft little marks painting a sordid message into her flesh. Her chest rattled, chaotically clambering to soak air in before forcing it back out, while her belly sank into itself in horror.
Her stomach was admittedly a point which she was least proud of. Certainly, it was by no means littered with excess, and was indeed rather slim. However, it was squishy, softer than it was firm. Taut when sucked in, but when not, it proved capable of being pinched, plucked at. A fact she loathed, given her aspirations of athletic pursuits.
Swimming, however, would not save her in the present. The tongue swirled across the midriff, circling her shallow oval like a vulture waiting to swoop on a fresh kill. As the stomach became nude, and only the salty sea stirred within her button, the tongue plunged itself into the hole.
It pierced the rim, curling into itself as it proved too girthy to actually fit fully into the button. As such, the bulbous tongue sipped and supped, flicking in and out in rapid succession, allowing the sharpened end to scrape from bottom to top along the interior wall, crawling and carving into the floor with wanton cruelty behind each lap.
"MAEYAEHAK- ATHAHA... ST-STHAY-" Her laughter became choking, as the tongue's persistence suckling along her stomach brought her into a quiet fit once more. As her stomach turned red, the tongue withdrew once every lick of salt was... licked.
"M-mehercy... pl-" Her mouth was gagged once more with cotton, as the man stood over her and began to sprinkle salt once more across her exhausted torso. "PLGHGHS! NNNGH!" Despite the begging, once again her midriff found itself target of a torturous serpent crawling across it.
The belly sank, capitulating to the weight of the tongue, and indenting, impressing the imprint with every twist, every tilt or jab lain by the abhorrent appendage. The muscles, exhausted, weak, and burning, began to violently spasm. Every laugh stabbed at her lungs, harder than it did her tortured core.
By the time it'd ended for the second round, she'd lost control of her bladder, staining the hay beneath. When the trickling of shameful yellow subsided, the leader once more spoke in a condemning tone. "Vile." The man spoke, dismissing the goat back to its pen as he made his follower clean her mess. "Confess your crimes, lest you suffer further anguish, lecher."
"I...be-" She choked on her own spit, coughing heavily, she looked on with tear-stained cheeks as she begged knowingly in vain. "S-stop this... h-have mercy... le-let me go to prison... please!" Without words, the man straddled the woman, as he untied her bindings, dragging her by her hair towards the end of the cabin, before tying her right wrist to the overhead railing, whilst the left similarly stood upright.
The height forced her to stand on her toes. "Please... PLEASE PLEASE! NO MORE! FOR THE LOVE OF GO-" A horrific ringing echoed in her ears, as her face began to swell, blood trickling from her lips briefly as another harsh lash crossed her cheek. "*****! DO NOT SPEAK OF HIS NAME, LEST YE'R READY TO SWEAR THYSELF TO HIM!"
Following an unsettling quiet, the follower returned with a bucket. Setting the bucket before Meredith, the leader sank his hand into the matter, before rubbing it into her right armpit. The process of which, itself, triggered her nerves into a gentle tickling, causing her to grit her teeth and twist about aimlessly amidst begging.
"PLehEyease! I did it! Ihi'm the EhEhwiHitch! STAHAyaghp!" No response. Instead, the leader was handed the horse-brush, and her eyes shot open wider than ever. "NONONO! NO NO N-" Scrubbing. Shrieking followed, the shrill scraping sound of sharpened tines and spikes prodding and tilling ticklish tissue with each flutter of the wrist. Scrubbing the hairy brush from the sunken shallow depths of the pit, down towards her breast, the raking prickly hairs sank into the flesh like a hot knife through butter.
The lotion, as she figured it might be, aided the carving ends of each tine to skate across the ticklish skin with precision unattainable otherwise."AYEAHAEHA CAHAYANGH'T TAHYAEAHAKEIT! MEHEYEARCHGY! PLEAYEAHEAHSE! STAH-" Choking once more on her spit, she began to realize there wasn't merely one scrubbing brush, but two. The follower had taken to raking his own horse-brush along her heels, jumping from foot to foot as lotion slathered down her soles, etched into the dainty skin by sharp mawed brushes.
"BAYHAEYAA BEHEAYLEHEASE! PLEYE- Pl- P-" Falling quiet, the scrubbing persisted as one pit filled with blush, the leader merely swapped to the virgin pit. Meredith's chest flung itself constantly, rattling with each cackle, each anguished exclamation of mirth drew her bosom into a bouncing fit.
Though not exceptional in size, the B-cup's were perky enough that the leader took note of them, and made to exploiting them all the same. Cupping the left breast within his head, whilst his colleague continued to rake the brush across her soles, the man began to dust beneath the breast tissue.
"NAYAHAGHOMHAHAR-" Once more, she'd begun to choke, her lungs drawing deficits as she fell silent. Wheezing pumped her lungs, rattling her stomach into a quivering, spasming fit, indicating the torture was still efficient, thus perpetuating it. As the bristles licked beneath the fatty mounds, the man tilted his wrist so that the top of the brush would graze the underside of her hardened nipple with each strumming spurt of motion.
Every harsh grating glide, painted more misery into her nerves as tines tapped incessantly, hungrily on the doughy flesh, craving and chipping at the surface in a bid to have at the raw nerves. Before long, her head grew heavy, the tickling began to induce pulsing, pounding headaches into her.
As the lights flickered, the follower's brushing had entered her legs, crossing over her thighs. Molding the cake-like squish of the inner thigh into a ravenously chewed, ticklish hell. The bristles slowly but surely threatened to venture further up, only to inverse their positioning and bleed into her backside. With her rounded bottom becoming a dry erase board, and the follower determined to erase every last bit of white.
Within a matter of ten, maybe twenty minutes of the process, she'd passed out with an unbearable pain pounding her temples. As she came back to, she was greeted by bindings holding her onto a stake. Naked, as she had been, she looked over to see Marvin. His body reddened just as hers had been, with similar marked carved into his skin.
As she scanned her surroundings, she felt hands groping at her sides. A thumb wedged itself firmly into her back, resting as it pressed against the small of her backside. Tilting inwards, two sharpened nails sank against the muscle as they'd begun swiveling, twirling in place while the eight remaining digits all sunk into squeezing fits across the front of her body. The edges of her belly began to quiver, vibrating as her sides were relentlessly kneaded. Every weave, every buck forwards or back, futile.
Palms remained planted, the digits remained aligned along her curves, and steadily curled only to uncurl in the same second. "MEYEAHAEHARCHEYEHY! STHAYAHAGHP! NOHAHGAGO MAHAYRAHGE!" Crying out in genuine agony now, she'd craved the release of death, a life of servitude in some medieval prison, anything over this torturous mockery.
Before her, a man approached with two more horse-brushes, proceeding to run them rabidly across her ribs. The tines pinched between the bones, clasping and dragging against the thin layer coating them, probing between, painting their outline with reddened marks. Only to dive down, gliding over the navel and piercing the hips, running along the lower lips only to raise back towards the ribs.
Her cackling turned to incoherent blathering, before waning into a faint whine, only to fall silent. Tears blinded her, only alerting her to more torture as a tongue returned to curl and coil around her toes, dragging and pulling them into splayed positions so that it may suckle the salt up. A faint gust of breath entering her ears, before a tongue probed the lobe and delivered its message:
"Do you see?" The man asked, the old man to be specific. The grayed individual who feigned Marvin's appearance. The one who'd threatened her. He now stuck his tongue into her ear, mocking her, laughing in jest at her own miserable mirth.
"HEYAEHALP MEHEYEAHEA" The last words she managed to screech before once again, spreading the ground with golden trickles, and spreading her consciousness thin into slumber.
As she woke, she had been faced with only the man. He held with him a lone apple, to which he offered Meredith. "Take of it, my child. I can only aid you if you accept my blessing." Without thought, she'd bitten into the fruit extended before her face, only to feel a pounding against her chest.
"Fuck, Can you see them!? CAN YOU SEE?" Jeremy screamed, desperately pummeling Meredith's chest as she woke groggy on the floor where she'd been attacked by the snake prior.
"HOLY SHIT! MEREDITH! WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY!?" Jeremy asked Marvin, who was standing on the phone with what she assumed was emergency dispatch. "W-Wha-" "Don't try to stand, just wait, okay? You'll be fine... I promise!"
Jeremy reassured her, as Reagan paced the room. "What sort of fucking house has a rattlesnake!? What the hell?" "T-the old man..." "Huh?" Jeremy perked, looking at Meredith with concern. "Where's the old man?" She resumed, to which Reagan knelt next to her.
"You were talking about an old man, even though I TOLD MARVIN NOT TO SCARE YOU... but it was just Marvin. He dressed up in some old devil outfit, bloodied himself, and then you just freaked. We've been trying to re-" "NO." Meredith injected, clasping at Reagan's collar.
"Bullshit, you saw him! I know you did. You said you didn't move the pi-" "Baby, calm down. You got some harsh fucking bite. I got as much as I could out, but I dunno what it did t'ya."
As Meredith was examined by the ambulance crew, she stared on, exhausted, stuck in disbelief at the nature of this supposed 'trip'. In the corner of her eyes, however, she made out a figure shuffling behind a closed curtain at the top of the manor. One housing the same physique as the man, issuing a mere wave before fading into oblivion.
Anxiously, Meredith burst into laughter, proceeding to bleed into maddened sobbing.
