A Thing of Mist and Shadow

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

The fog was rolling in as their car pulled in to the small inn of the village. "Finally!" Connor declared as they got out of the car. "We beat that fog, I was afraid we'd be stuck trying to drive in it, and that mother is the thickest I've seen in a long while!"

"I haven't seen many fogs, but that one is awfully thick," Beau said, not wanting to pick a fight over such a detail. "It looks almost solid."

"That's what I mean, a fog that thick, your lights don't go out more than five or six feet, you have to creep along and you can get lost easy. Plenty of people did in the old days before there were paved roads and such. But we're here and hopefully the fog won't be around in the morning.

They walked into the inn with their bags as the fog spread its arms out like small tendrils reaching for them as they entered.

Connor led them in, twenty-nine years of age, he had neatly cut blond hair he kept parted in the center of his head. His blue eyes were keen and kept darting about as they walked as if suspicious of everyone and everything. His face was rather soft and boyish and he was slender built, but had a lot of fight in his five foot nine inch frame for anyone who tried to bully him.

Beau followed him, bigger than Connor by four inches, he was thirty-one years of age, also blond haired with a slightly darker, more golden hue than Connor's, his body also had more hair on it especially on his lower legs, his blue eyes were more trusting and with perfect teeth, he wore an almost perpetual grin on his face as if the world had never mistreated him so he had no suspicions of anyone and anything, unlike the smaller Connor. When you saw Beau, you saw the man who was the perpetual sportsman, and sports were his life though he also taught math in school in addition to baseball which was his primary avocation.

Connor's suspicions were heightened by the innkeeper, a rather withered and decrepit old man who handed them a pen for signing in with a withered hand. "Staying a few days, are you?" he inquired.

"Naw, just the night," Connor replied.

"Oh, but the fog won't be gone by then," the innkeeper replied. "When it's this thick, it lingers for at least three or four days. Come now, we can accommodate you, be sensible and wait for the fog to lift."

"I don't like driving in fog any more than the next person, but if you think I'm sticking around this moor any longer than I have to, you're crazy!" Connor snapped, then reined himself in. "We both have commitments we have to keep, so staying over is not an option."

"I'll just reserve your rooms for four days to be safe," the innkeeper persisted. "When Faizeh and Mayishin come around like this, nobody ever leaves."

"Who's Fayzee and Mayeesha?" Beau pronounced poorly.

"Faizeh and Mayishin are the spirits of the fog that bring these heavy mists to our moor. Any poor soul who is called and wanders out among the mist falls prey to them. They are bound until the two go to sleep again and the fog clears. You should be careful to lock your doors and stay inside night and day until they leave."

"Really?" Beau asked, half-convinced.

"Oh, bosh and nonsense!" Connor declared. "I'm not buying that, I have to get back to my job by Monday and that is that, if I have to drive at two miles an hour for a few miles, then that's what I'll do!"

"He's right," Beau said to the innkeeper. "I have a class on Monday to teach."

"Faizeh and Mayishin will capture you on the road!" the innkeeper warned them. "You should stay here where you'll be safe. The fog can't get inside this building. Didn't you notice the doors?"

Beau looked, the doors were lined to close in an airtight manner. "Maybe he's got something, Connor, something in the fog might be dangerous."

"Oh, really!" Connor sneered. "A few people disappear on the moor, and that's how these things get started, and we'll stick to the road and drive slow. So never mind this old wives' tale!"

The innkeeper just shook his head and handed them their door key. "Room 8, it has two beds and a partition you can draw if you want to between them."

"Thank you," Connor took both keys and stomped upstairs, leaving Beau to tag along after him helplessly.

But the food in the dining room was pleasant and the beds were comfortable and the breakfast was delightful and they started out the next day in good spirits. The fog by this time was like walking through soft cotton candy. "Feels like it's sticking to me," Beau said as he got back into the car."

"Fuck it, we'll drive slow and leave it behind before long," Connor declared.

Less than a half mile from the inn, the car began to sputter and then the engine died. Connor cursed and he and Beau got out, and they shone a flashlight to look at the engine, but nothing seemed to be wrong, the engine had just died.

By now, the fog felt like it was a cloth wrapping around them. Beau found himself batting at it, and even Connor was swatting like he was pushing flies out of his face. "I don't like this," Beau said nervously.

"Don't be a sissy," scoffed Connor. "That old innkeeper has you scared, is all, given you the heebie jeebies. It's all in your head."

"Well, my head is making me feel like I'm being pawed all over," Beau declared.

"We're not far from the inn. Let's push this car over to the side of the road and try walking back to the inn, we can call for a tow truck from there," Connor declared.

They got the car out of the roadway onto the bank and began to walk back, but Beau found his footsteps began to feel lighter than they should be. "It feels like I'm floating."

Connor's voice was uncertain this time as well. "I know what you mean. Like I'm walking on tiptoe, only it's not difficult."

Beau found himself veering off course without meaning to. "Connor, what's happening?" he flailed and realized he was no longer in control, his body was no longer touching the ground!

"I don't know, something's happening here!"

Beau realized that he couldn't see anything. Nothing but the fog. It was so solid that he could barely see his own hands and his feet were barely visible. He couldn't see the ground, couldn't see Connor, couldn't see anything. His arms were moving and his legs, he was moving to become spread-eagled, outspread, suspended in mid-air, weightless. Was he dead? If so, where was God? Or...or Satan?

"Yawp!" he howled as he felt the painful grip seize his balls through his pants and briefs, a strong, strong hand had somehow grasped both of his nuts and had them in thrall, and he moaned as the fingers of that hand used its powerful grip to ply and move them about as if they were toys, juggling them about and twisting them around, until he yelped and howled and yelled and begged for the whatever-it-was to stop, swearing he would be good from now on, he'd go to church every day, twice a day, if this thing would just stop, please, please, stop!

Connor could hear Beau but he had his own problems, he had experienced the same lifting and spreadeagling effect, but instead of having his balls grabbed, he had suffered the humiliating feel of having his pants torn apart by brute force and with his ass exposed, his ass was roughly violated by a thick dong that stuffed itself inside him, making him cry out in his own pain and fear. In all this, he hardly noticed that his own balls had been gripped in a hold of a hand that fondled and manhandled them, pulling and tugging on them, but also a tongue that licked and lapped on them, making the pain of his ass compete with the pleasure from his balls and a conflict that strained his senses and boiled the two into a common sauce that made him treat the two sensations as the same, he found the mix both painful and oddly intoxicating, as his cock was gripped by a second hand that began to pump on it as well.

Beau watched as his shirt unbuttoned itself and his belt buckle unbuckled itself and his pants fly unzipped itself and his shoes unlaced themselves. He was being undressed, and would be naked for this...whatever-it-was's...desires. "Oh, God, God, no!" he moaned. What had he done to be so deserted by the Lord like this?

Connor's clothes were being torn away from him, as he kept being fucked and he writhed as he was hammered by the hard dong sliding in and out of him, it seemed so big that it was sliding a foot or so of prong in and out of him, pushing all the way into him and out of him as it moved, though he didn't feel any injury or tearing as it did this. His cock was now freely being jacked and his balls were now blatantly being sucked on instead of mangled, though the mouth would grip and tug on his nuts now and then, it was a playful thing instead of torment, and he gasped and moaned, and growled, "Oh, shit, wait until I get free, I am going to fuck you up so hard, I'll beat the shit out of you, whoever and whatever you are, I'll ram that thick cock of yours down your fucking throat!"

If the thing heard him or understood him, it didn't respond.

Beau moaned as his clothing was stripped from him, and when he was totally nude by this odd self-strip act, he was mortified when the strong hand and fingers encircling his balls (which hadn't been budged by the actions of the clothing) gripped tighter and suddenly yanked him up higher into the air,, and he screamed as he was lifted by his balls, skywards hanging like a ragdoll with arms and legs dangling downwards.

Connor was similarly nude by this time, and he felt the huge cock in his ass reach climax and blast a load into him and he snarled at the musky smell of jizz as it flowed into his butt, and then as the massive prong pulled out of him, the hands that held his cock and balls held him tighter and like Beau, he was hauled upwards into the air.

At this point their paths diverged.

--o-8-o--

Beau found himself in a...place. He couldn't define it better than that, but it was a place and there was the thing that had gripped his balls and several smaller things (call them "minions") that swarmed around him. Beau remained in mid-air though the pain in his balls was ameliorated in that he was not being "lifted upwards" any more, and he wished he could reach down and rub his poor balls.

He need not have worried, for one of the minions scurried over with the others and he soon found his balls being washed and bathed by the minions' warm mouth and being juggled and teased by the things mouth and Beau sighed, feeling much better.

And then the minion that had done this for him reached up and grabbed his balls and twisted them inside his ballsac (his scrotum was a loose-hanging thing already and the things took advantage of that) painfully and he cried anew at this agony reborn and wondered if this was to be his fate, a constant agony and amelioration and renewed torment that would go on forever. He was in Hell!

The other minions worked on his cock, pumping it and nipping at his cockhead while they did that, making him wince at that, and more were nibbling at his asshole, he wondered if a good long fart would scare them off or encourage them? Tongues extended from the minions and he found himself being probed into his butthole, enough to make him squirm despite himself, any man straight or gay, finding his asshole invaded without being ripped discovers that the feeling is something undeniably enjoyable even if they wished it weren't!

Another minion seized his cockhead in his mouth and Beau was grateful for that, though he feared the thing might want to bite it off at a tender moment, but the thing began to suck on his prong, and he groaned, between his ass and his dick, he was feeling a heck of a lot of joy, if only they would leave his poor balls alone, the pain from there was really...not that bad! When you added it all in, it kind of felt...exotic, strange, exciting...good!

God, he was so fucked up inside, that he could get into this! What the fuck was wrong with him?

Other minions were working over his body, alternately licking and nipping at his various bodily parts, from his fingers and toes to his tits (ooh, those poor nipples, they were being wrenched about like his balls) and he had so many things working on him (none of them were tangible, he identified them by their feelings on his body, not by seeing them, it might be one gigantic thing, instead of many smaller ones for all he knew) and he gasped and moaned and wondered what would happen to him next. He didn't know if he should be happy or miserable, he was so messed up inside, this was triumphantly good and ignominiously horrible, all at the same time, and how could he even think straight right now?

He got his answer about what came next the hard way, in that a hard cock came knocking at his nether regions, slid in at his back door, hit the small entrance and then pushed itself inside roughly, filling him to the breaking point and beyond, and he howled out at the invasion with a hearty, "EEEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

All the myriad stimulations his body was incurring had their effect on him, the cock pushing into his ass didn't affect him the same as if he had been plowed into alone. But his anal invasion was only one sensation among many and that diminished it to his surprise, and he ended up with an assful of hard cock and the cock moving back and forth without himself being in an impossible agony.

He moaned just the same as he felt the last vestige of his masculine superiority slip away from him. He was no longer "the cock of the walk," he was "the bitch of the day" and if any of these minions wanted to do him next, they could take him, he was defeated and helpless, a piece of humbled manmeat ready to be fucked and loaded with hot come by any who wanted to take him.

Beau sobbed a little as he felt his body rocking back and forth like a chip of wood in the water, floating in the air and being licked and sucked and nipped and nibbled and tugged and fondled all over his body while some huge thing humped his poor, poor butt.

"You bastards, you damned, damned bastards!" he sobbed. "I hate all of you, every last one, and you have broken me down, damn you all, and I can't do anything but let you have your fun, and curse every last one of you to Hell!"

He closed his eyes and let his body do what it would. As he feared, the sensations were doing the only thing they could, they converted the pain into pleasure and added it to the pleasure he was getting from the other places and soon his body was shuddering and being wracked with the desire that he feared would occur, and though he cursed himself for feeling this, he hoped that it would end things, and he let it happen, let his body reach for the clouds of climax, and when he breached that high state, he almost sighed with relief as well as joy.

"I'm coming, you bastards, coming now, AH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-AH-AH-AH-AH, AH-HAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he erupted in a huge load that shook his entire being and he felt like his entire entrails were being shot out of his body in that one single orgasm, he spewed hot spooge like rockets over and over and over, and it ended like it always did, and he felt exhausted, totally worn out and done and relaxed and prayed that this was the end of it. As he climaxed, the thing in his ass also sprayed painfully heated spunk into his ass and it seared his insides like hot sauce, and he winced and tears formed in his eyes and he moaned and prayed for death instead of the mere surcease that climax brings a man.

But the things didn't release him, he felt his body being massaged and played with and teased and he felt his body stirring and rising again and he knew that this ordeal hadn't ended, but was just getting started.

--o-8-o--

Connor found himself in a similar state as Beau, but was suspended in darkness where he could not see anything. All he felt was hands and tongues and fingers and other unmentionable things playing over his body.

He felt come dripping from his ass and something was lapping it up as it dripped, and then the tongue began to dig more of the come out of his butt and probe into his asshole and lap at it, demeaning yet also comforting as it laved and soothed the internal walls of his intestines that had been strained though he didn't feel any tears which would have stung when the tongue hit them inside.

Other mouths and tongues and fingers were busy on him, one had his nuts and was busily twisting and wrenching them, then letting go long enough to let another mouth lap and bathe it, as if contrite for what they had done to him. The hand would move to jack his cock and that felt good as well, then the hand would grip his cock again and that would let the mouth move to suck his prick again. Those two things ought to get together for they were confusing his mind like crazy!

Other mouths and fingers and hands were doing things like mauling his poor titties, they had both his nipples tight and were wringing them like they thought they could get milk out of them or something, and other mouths were biting at his toes and making him flinch and others were sucking on his fingers like they were little cocks, which was stupid, and sticky and wet. His entire body was being similarly misused, he was getting licked and bit and sucked and nibbled all over his skin from top to bottom and left to right and it had his senses on overdrive.

He wasn't surprised with another cock, or the same one, stuck itself back into his butt and began to fuck him again. He was already opened wide from the first fuck, so he hardly felt it, hell, he was an open asshole now, come one, come all, fuck me while you have the chance, I'm a hands-around whore now, come and get me!

The pains and pleasures of his body were both exciting and excruciating, both pleasurable and abominable and his mind didn't know how to process it all and he finally gave up and let his baser instincts decide what to do, and they had an answer, however crass and disgusting it might be.

Climax. He loosed a short, loud roaring groan of "HUH-UH-UH-UH-UH-HUH-HUH, UH- HUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" and blasted a geyser of jizz into the mouth of whatever had been working his cock and balls all along and it gulped at him greedily, which didn't surprise him much, these things or thing was definitely in it for the sex. He had just finished his own orgasm and was beginning to relax when the cock pumping him burst into climax and filled him with more come, which the minions scrambled to fish out of his butt when it withdrew. Unlike Beau, he wasn't surprised that they didn't let him go. He knew they planned to keep him captive forever and ever.

--o-8-o--

When dawn came, Beau and Connor staggered, nude and fragile, to the inn and the innkeeper, who had opened his door, saw them and came to them. "Oh, now, I did warn you, did I not?" he said as he ushered them indoors. "Don't worry, I kept your rooms and I'll send my boys down to fetch your car and its belongings up here. You can stay for the next few days until Faizeh and Mayishin have had their fill of you and will let you go and lift the fog hereabouts. You'll be safe and able to leave then."

"I'm just glad that's over," Beau sighed.

"Well, until tonight," the innkeeper told them.

"Tonight?" Connor asked, appalled.

"Yes, tonight you'll be summoned back," the innkeeper said. "I'll put you outside then so I can seal up, as you would break down the door to get out otherwise. They've got their hold on you and will keep you here for those days. But after those days, they'll be done and you can leave. Take comfort in that. Come now, you'll need some food and sleep."

Weary, but resigned, the two men followed the innkeeper resignedly to the room. After all, he knew best.