Bdsm Sex Stories

by Olga Menson

  I picked her up then and ran. I didn't know where I was going, not really, so I just acted on instinct. I went down. Down the stairs to the first floor then down again, to the basement.

  Yeah, I know how that sounds. I just knew I had to get her away from those...things. And down was the farthest I could go without taking her outside.

  "Put me down, John," Ashley said. There was a quiver in her voice, but she sounded remarkably calm.

  "I don't know...I mean we might have to..."

  "No, John. It's ok. They aren't coming. You need to put me down."

  I looked at her then. I couldn't understand her tone. When I saw her eyes, I saw fear, yes, but mostly concern. For me.

  "Oh...I mean of course," I said stupidly, not really understanding any of this. I put her down, gently, my arms shaking. Why were they shaking that much? It wasn't fear. I was definitely afraid, but right now I was deep in fight or flight and the rest of my body was ready to act and strong. She wasn't that heavy either, nor had I carried her for long. That's when I noticed the marks.

  Curling around my biceps and shoulders of both arms were long bruises. Far too long to be fingers, but that was clearly what they were. Ashley very gently touched one, and I felt sharp pain, grunting involuntarily.

  "I'm sorry! Fuck. I don't know what to about these."

  "I don't think anything can be done about them. I think they just need to heal.:"

  "This is my fault. They wanted me. They wanted me but hurt you."

  "They can't fucking have you."

  "But they will! This is...it's my dream. It's all coming true. They're going to fuck me and kill me on that fucking rock, and there's nothing I can do. And you're just going to end up dying trying to protect me."

  "No! I won't let you die, and I won't die either. We can leave today..."

  Ashley shook her head, sadly.

  "They won't let us. I know that now. They're going to take what they want. Its best just to give it to them, so they don't hurt you any more..."

  "No!"

  My shout reverberated in the tight basement. I swear it felt like the house shook in that moment.

  Ashley hugged me then, and I held her. Neither of us knew what to do.

  * *

  We got cold fast down there. After waiting for a half hour, I went back upstairs, cautiously. As if I could sneak around spirits. I searched for Ashley's room. The only sign anything was wrong was a lamp I'd knocked over in my hurry to leave. It wasn't even broken.

  "It doesn't look like the sort of place where there'd be demons, does it."

  I jumped. Ash had followed me despite my wishes, but I wasn't about to yell at her. I started putting on my clothes.

  "I'm going outside."

  "What?"

  "I'm going to get the car started. When I do, I'm going to honk. Just get dressed and run out. We'll leave everything else behind. Fuck this place."

  Ashley's expression turned from fear to pity.

  "Ok. I'll be ready."

  From her tone, I could tell that she was just humoring me though. She knew what I had only dimly become aware of. She had said as much, too.

  I ran outside in my bare feet, not even taking a wallet. I got in my car, slammed the key in the ignition and turned it. Nothing. Just a click that sounded like the finality of death.

  Fuck.

  I went back inside, aware but not running anymore. I opened the door to more bad news. Ash stood just inside the door, waiting, as I had asked her. She was wearing a long t-shirt and was still in bare feet.

  "The phone's dead," she said, simply.

  I didn't bother even telling her about the car. I could tell that she already knew.

  "Ash, I...we can walk out in the morning."

  "You know it won't happen. These things...they want what they want. And they're going to have it."

  "I'm not letting you just walk out there and die!"

  I was aware that I was the panicked one. Ash was eerily calm. I knew that she showing more courage than I ever had. She sighed.

  "I think they're done for the night, but they'll be back tomorrow evening. If we can't figure out a way out, I'm going to them. I won't let you die for me."

  I didn't argue. I knew there was no point.

  "Wait," she said, in a very different tone, her eyes wide in surprise, but there was...hope? I didn't understand, nothing had changed.

  "What? Have you thought of a way out?"

  "No...and it might be nothing...but the package."

  "The what?"

  "The one mom gave me, remember? She said if anything went wrong while they were gone, I should open it and read it."

  I doubted that it would have any insight into this particular problem, but Ashley wasn't talking about wandering off in the woods to get killed or worse by monsters, so I wasn't going to argue. Instead, I followed her up to her room. She might have been scared, but she wasn't hesitating. She took the thick envelope out of her nightstand and tore it open. A book, almost the size of a composition notebook, fell out onto her bed.

  "Look how old it is! And the pages...they're even older. Someone must have rebound this."

  The handwriting was quite legible, but the paper was ancient. It had been expertly and lovingly preserved. The original binding had probably fallen apart, but even the new one looked like it dated to the 19th century. The pages were probably decades or even centuries older than the cover. Abruptly, almost as if pushed, a note fell out between the pages. Ashley snatched it up.

  Ashley sat and read the first paragraph. I leaned over her, and she folded it shut, abruptly. She met my eyes, sadly.

  "John, I think I should read this first."

  "Why, in case it tells you to do something crazy and self-destructive?"

  "If I promise that I won't, will you give me privacy to read this alone, first?"

  "Goddammit, Ashley. The one thing I don't think you should be right now is alone."

  "I swear that I won't do anything hasty. And I'll be sure to share anything important that I find, either in the letter or the book. Mom gave this to me, though. And she made it clear that it was [I]only[/I] for me. I want to respect that. I think you should too."

  I sighed but made no effort to hide my frustration.

  "Fine. I'll come running if you scream, I guess."

  I turned to stalk off and pout, but before I got far, I felt Ashley hugging me from behind. Her soft warmth pressed into me, and my anger vanished, leaving only the desperate fear for the safety fo the sister that I loved too much.

  "Don't be mad. Let me do this, and then we can decide what to do, together. I won't abandon you."

  I patted her hand in what I hoped was a reassuring manner, and then left the room, closing it quietly behind me.

  * *

  I patrolled the outside of the cabin a few more times, then went back inside. I didn't know what else to do, so I made sure it was locked and shuttered tight, and then decided to try and nap. I finally fell asleep just as the dawn started to brighten the horizon.

  I woke up in the late morning. Ashley hadn't left her room. I made her some eggs and bacon, which she took gratefully. I could tell that she hadn't slept at all. She was still reading the book, and she'd gotten one of her own notebooks out and was making careful notes in her own small but neat handwriting. She'd drawn a few simple pictures too.

  "Those are from the rock, aren't they?"

  I realized then that maybe I shouldn't have looked, but Ashley just smiled and finished eating a piece of bacon.

  "I guess some of them were out there when our ancestors showed up, but some they added. This book is...well, it's wild. I still have some things that I need to understand, but I'm going to come down and share the important parts with you soon, ok?"

  I left her alone again, feeling helpless to protect her. And if I couldn't protect my little sister, what use was I?

  Although I knew it wouldn't be helpful, I packed some food and camping supplies into a backpack. Despite what w
e both knew to be true, we could try and bolt down the winding road or cut through the woods.

  Even if I couldn't save her, I'd still need to tell someone what happened.

  That thought was too much. I ran to the downstairs bathroom and threw up. No. No, she wasn't going to die. And if she was...I wasn't going to be a passive witness. I'd go too. It was a grim thought, but it made me feel a little better for whatever reason.

  "Soon" turned out to be in the middle of the afternoon. I'd packed and planned and looked at maps all afternoon, and I finally had slept a little more. Later I'd be glad I did, but at the moment I was just frustrated that Ashley hadn't come down. We needed to decide what to do, and soon.

  She came downstairs just as I was splashing water on my face in the kitchen sink while I boiled water for coffee. Ashley smoothly took over the coffee making, and I got out some leftovers from last night. I didn't bother heating them up. We had to eat, but I doubted she had any more appetite than I did.

  To my surprise, Ash wolfed down a piece of cold lasagna. I did the same. When she was done, I realized that she was staring at me. She was calm, but still looked worried. Except it seemed like her concern was for me. Strange.

  "I think," she started cautiously, "that things might be ok. If we do something specific and in the right way."

  "What?"

  "I can't really tell you. I mean, I would but...I think you need to read some of the book. I picked out the important parts. You don't need all the details. There are more books like this in mom and dad's room too. I took a look at a few. This has been going on for...a while."

  "Do we really have time to be reading?"

  "Yes. We can't do anything until they come out and that won't be until after dark. We've got at least three hours, and I really need you to understand all of this...before I ask you for a favor."

  I was about to tell her that I would do whatever she wanted, but I decided to read, instead. Ash was right. We had some time before the things came again.

  "Ok. Tell me where to start."

  To my surprise, she kissed me, gently, on the mouth. Then handed me the book, already open to a specific page.

  * * *

  The Book

  * * *

  Spring, 1645

  The Elders have decided to settle here, on the frontier, beyond the protection of the main colony and its strong arms and steady guns. Although they do not know it, I recognize the markings on the rock. This is a place of the Ancients, and the natives must have known it, and respect its boundaries. They will not trouble us here, and they probably haven't lived here in centuries, if not longer.

  The water is clear and clean, rain is prevalent, and the ground fertile. Cate has told me that she wants another child and I am pleased to try and give one to her. Margaret, John, and Rachel all seem to love it here.

  God has granted us this place of solace, and we are grateful for it.

  * *

  I'm not going to lie, seeing my name here did not please me. In fact, it made me shiver. I looked up, and Ashley was watching me read. She took the book and turned it to a different page, and handed it back to me wordlessly.

  * *

  Early Summer, 1645

  Our homes are solid and safe, our lands are fertile. We should have known that there would be a price.

  After much thought, I have decided to enact the rites. Shadows have been seen about the outside of the colony, and little Gwyn ran to her father Aled while he worked to clear the old forest. She was drowned in tears and sweat, the poor thing, and could not even describe what had terrorized her. I was there, assisting in the difficult work, and saw how her dress had been torn. The Ancients here have not had proper offerings in a very long time, and are lustful.

  The rites my grandfather taught me will enable me to find out how to lay the Ancients back to rest or bring them on the side of the colony. The "god fearing" Elders would not approve, but I do this for them and their descendants as much as my own.

  Such an endeavor can be dangerous, but I must risk it. Else the Ancients will simply take what they want with no care for the dead they leave behind them.

  * *

  Again, Ashley took the book from me and turned to a different page before returning it to me. Her hands shook, and as I read, I reached out and put my arm around her. She leaned into me gratefully. Even as stressed as we both were, feeling her body against mine was welcome.

  I cleared my mind and read further

  * *

  Late Summer, 1645

  What have I done?

  I know it was the only path forward. I know it. But...the Ancients demanded so much. If not, they will take all of us, starting with the women and children, and return to slumber once all of us are used and dead.

  They...they ache with carnal passions. The natives were not foolish to leave this place alone. They demand abomination and taboo. I should not be surprised, but in my hubris I believed that I knew better.

  I agreed to their terms. What other choice did I have?

  I must explain to Margaret and John what their duties are and how they must accomplish them. Cate already knows and understands, although she hates forcing such a thing upon her children.

  * *

  Late Summer, 1645

  Margaret has fled us. I do not blame her.

  Cate and I explained things as best we could. Margret and John have always been...close, so I hoped that they would both agree, even if not eagerly. Margaret has always been protective, however, and she refused, saying that she would not damn John because of my sins and witchcraft.

  John stayed quiet, but I knew that he must have considered the idea of laying with his sister. I feel he would do so if only to save her. Perhaps love might come from such a union, but it is not a necessity. He must lay with his sister, and she must bear him at least two children. One boy and one girl. They must lay together often and at least once a year upon the rock, spilling his seed and her fertile fluid upon it. In this way, the Ancients will be sated and will not need to "harvest" us, as they call it.

  Cate said that she would speak to Margaret again upon the morrow when she was calmer, and we went to bed. I should have known that Margaret, always an impulsive child, would act without thinking. When we awoke, she was gone. There was no note, but we all know why, save Rachel, who asks us questions and does not understand our silence.

  John and I will leave shortly to search for her in the wood, where she would have to flee through to get back to the main colonies. Cate and Rachel will ask about her in the village. If anyone asks we shall tell them that she ran back to Boston to be with a boy, she had met there. It would not be to her character, but the truth would not be wise to share.

  God save her.

  * *

  Ashley again took the book and flipped forward. This time not as far and the handwriting was obviously different, although still masculine in nature. It resembled my own.

  * *

  Early Fall, 1645

  Father has given me his journal and told me to record both the sad and necessary events that have occurred over the past month. He says that he has no stomach for it, but it is needful to do so. Future generations must understand their duty.

  For if they fail, then not only will our family suffer, but the descendants of all who lived here will fall forfeit to the contract as well.

  We did not search long on that bleak fall morning. Only a few hours. I remember the smell of leaves mixed with that of blood. She...Margaret was in the trees. They had not been gentle to her. She was torn asunder as if by the worst beasts of the wood, and her parts were laid out upon the branches. Father said nothing, but I know that she suffered before her death. With his help, we collected everything we could and buried her there, in the forest.

  We told the town that she had been torn apart by wild animals and that we could not bear the various parts back to the house, to spare my mother and sister. We were not lying. We had a somber service in the new meeting house, and then Father a
nd I led the reverend out to bless the grave where she lay. We took down the simple stick we used to mark her place of rest and put up a more sturdy wooden cross. I wept openly and for the first time in many years.

  We returned home, somber and dead inside. I loved Margaret, and she loved me. Perhaps more than what god intended, but she could not be with me as...as a wife. I feared for our safety and our future. Rachel is of age, but she does not know much of the world or of our family's connection to the Ancients. She would probably abide by Father's wishes in any case. She had been obedient in the past.

  But would I hurt her? That was the question in my mind. Would it harm her to have such an act perpetrated upon her? Father suspects but Mother does not know that I am no virgin. I had a barmaid many times back in New Amsterdam. Before we left to start anew here, I was even thinking of wedding her. Winnie was no pure dove, but she was fair and kind and open. She had no interest in leaving the town, however, and I did not blame her. I was sad for a time but hoped to meet a new woman here, to lay with and perhaps marry.

  I did not expect her to be my sister.

  All of us spoke together in the evening. Mother and Father explained all to Rachel. She listened, and her face grew even paler. I felt for her, more than I expected to. She had been close to Margaret and had been wrecked by her death. Such instruction as this on the heels of awful news must have been terrible for her.

  To my surprise, Rachel was much more agreeable than I thought she would be. After we all spoke together, She and mother spoke in private, most likely praying. Rachel returned to the hearth, blushing, but smiling at me, if somewhat sadly. I saw her then as if for the first time and a great and profane hunger woke in me. She is well-rounded and heavy in hip and breast. I would blame the Ancients for this new lust, but I know that would be a lie. Now that it was likely I welcomed the opportunity to lay with my fair sister. She is beautiful, sweet, and submissive. What else could a man ask for in a wife?