Day 17 - Threesome or Moresome - Scooby Doo

“If you knew who it was you stood before, you would not be so quick to make fun.” The black-clad woman looked down her nose smugly.

“Yeah, right,” Velma snorted. “If I believed everybody with a drama school degree and a spirit halloween frequent customer card, I wouldn’t get much done as an investigator.”

“You dare mock the queen of the vampires?” The woman puffed herself up as large as she could.

“How do you even become the queen of the vampires? Aren’t you guys all around the world? Was there an election? Do you oversee the vampire beheadings, or is it like the British where it’s-”

The vampire queen snarled in frustration and her eyes suddenly seemed to grow large and bright as searchlights, the deep red of blood. It was an impressive trick, certainly, but when you had an insurance policy to claim, people got pretty creative. There was this one guy pretending to be a wolf man who’d even put a red silicon…

Velma felt her muscles unknotting as a sort of distant alarm bell, her flashlight suddenly falling slack by her side and clattering to the floor. She blinked and shook her head, but when she opened her eyes again the brilliant lights of the queen’s eyes were all she could look at. She couldn’t turn her head, couldn’t look away, even consciously trying to.

“And how quickly the cocky ones grow meek,” The queen’s voice was loud enough to fill the hall, but it felt like a whisper.

“Juh…” Velma managed in response.

The most common recurring trait in those who had been hypnotized or who vouched for the efficacy of a practitioner's hypnotism techniques was a willingness to be hypnotized. She hadn’t wanted to be. Granted, the queen was beautiful, certainly. In that kind of austere and unthinkable way that made her seem almost artificial. She had chosen her ruse properly. She wouldn’t have been able to pass for a witch or a monster. She seemed to genuinely think she was better than you. If she had asked Velma if she wanted to be hypnotized… Velma probably wouldn’t have said no…

Why was she playing along? Why was she humoring this? Velma shook her head and blinked again, but when she looked back up the queen was directly in front of her, eyes now completely filling her vision. Velma felt her muscles relax even more, feeling but not controlling her jaw as it relaxed and slid open. Oh god, was she drooling in front of this woman?”

The queen reached out and casually unbuttoned Velma's skirt. With a gesture, Velma felt her own arms move to grab the bottom of her baggy sweater and then lift it up over her head. The queen helped, but for the most part it was Velma undressing herself without really understanding why. When she was standing naked but for her shoes, she should have felt embarrassed, or if not that, at least cold in the wide and mostly empty hall. But still, all she remained fixated on was those eyes. The queen lowered her face into Velma’s chest and pressed into her skin, shockingly cold against her.

“Ah, such a wonderful body. Such magnificent shape. And such a vital, warm heart.”

Suddenly she bit down gently into the soft flesh around her, or at least it seemed gentle. Velma saw with some surprise a trickle of red slip from the queen’s lips, but mostly she felt the warmth of her mouth against the coldness of the skin around it. When the queen looked up and her eyes flared playfully, it only made the warmth seem to spread. Velma was aware of a genuine desire forming inside of her that hadn’t been there even a moment before. When the queen pulled her lips away, she trailed an impressively long tongue along the small wound she had left behind.

Stepping away, the queen returned a moment later with a long rope. Velma raised her arm and her leg as the queen needed without instruction or nudge, moving around her and draping the rope about before pulling it tight in a sort of shibari harness, then running the other end somewhere unseen and slowly hoisting her up from the ground. She hung in a sort of one-legged hogtie, arms close to her back and one leg left to dangle to the ground. The queen finally planted a kiss on her lips before stepping away again and throwing open one of the side doors of the hall.

“Oh my darlings,” She sang in a voice smooth but powerful.

Several pairs of feet came shuffling into the hall, all crowding and adoring around the queen, kneeling and kissing her feet and outstretched hands. Men and women alike, all beautiful, first choices of a woman who likely never had to experience rejection. Their eyes were all wide, a strange mixture of adoring hunger and gnawing emptiness. One of the men kissed up the queen’s leg and toward her crotch, but she set a hand on his head and pushed him gently away, pointing to where Velma was still hanging placidly. They all rose eagerly and made their way to her.

Her body was suddenly being caressed by a dozen hands, kissed by as many lips. Alive with the gentle scratch of stubble, the soft scrape of fingernails, the wet warmth of lips and the gentle prod of teeth. Two of the girls kissed from her dangling foot up to the inside of her thigh and parted ways, one continuing up to her cunt and the other biting into the soft meat of her leg. One of the men, his face gentle and boyish even under the soft beginnings of a beard, came forward and kissed her deeply, hands cupping her head and running through her head, teeth grazing her lip over and over again without ever making good on their implicit threat. She felt hands and tongues and finally teeth on her breasts, a broad pair of lips kissing down and up from her navel to her bush and back again, strong hands gripping her hips, closely-cropped hair occasionally brushing the bottom of her ribcage. Each bite was short, without any pain beyond a slight pinch. Some of them dug in and rolled their teeth around inside to impart the forcefulness of it, the marking claim of their jaws and the clench of her skin in their mouths, but they matched gently and intimately what they imparted roughly.

It was all distant, dreamlike. Still Velma could only focus on the queen’s eyes, even with somebody’s face pressed to hers, even unable to keep herself from shuddering with pleasure. Every time something would obscure the queen’s eyes, they would linger burned into her mind like they’d been branded in, then when she would get to look into them again it was like intense relief. Her body felt warm, almost feverish, but her head was rushing. She felt stretched thin between a hundred touches. She felt like she was going to pass out, which she probably was. The queen had slipped up her black skirt to expose her own pussy and had started to stroke herself watching her thralls have their fun and take their meal. Against her cloud-white skin the red of her cunt and the black tangle of her hair seemed like streaks of paint on canvas.

Velma’s own pussy was starting to ache with desire, the warm wetness of a tongue brushing forcefully and adoringly against her clit while another thrall kneaded and sucked at her breasts. The full-body worship and adoration, even if it was undercut by the dragging pull of blood being sucked from her around her legs, her stomach, arms, made her feel like the centerpiece of a great living work of art, all writhing bodies, scent and color. Gnawing sensations of desire and the churn of flesh, sweat-streaked hair and the smell of sex and exertion. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Still the gaze of the queen sat, burning. So ever present even the inside of her own skin couldn’t hide her from it. So close it could see every pore, every nick from shaving.

The thralls must have sensed she was getting closer, building towards something, because one of them shifted her attention to Velma’s ass. A tongue ground against and pushed inside of both holes, her nipples were so overstimulated and so constantly under pressure and touch that they ached with stiffness. The man’s tongue rolled in her mouth, his breath sweetly metallic on her lips and his hands firm on her neck. All she could do was squirm and swing gently in her ropes. Her vision was starting to go dark around the edges. Now matter how gentle, how painless the bites were, the steady multiplication of them was making her feel weak, lightheaded, even woozy. The queen seemed to notice as she pleased herself.

“Darlings,” She spoke slowly and clearly, none of the harshness she had once used was present, leaving only a ghostly softness, “Leave her something, please.”

All at once the teeth which had broken the skin left and languorous tongues circled the wounds they had left behind. With renewed effort they went to pleasing, to worship, and made clear how much their absence had restrained the slow build of ecstasy. Suddenly with new fingers, new tongues, new lips the steady trickle became a stream and then a torrent. So intensely warm despite the coldness of their bodies, bringing weak straining out of her and sounding the creak of the rope like a metronome as her eyelids fluttered, fingers and toes clenched the air.

And then burst suddenly, the electric light of release brought out by lips and tongues and digits and seemed to flow out from her skin into theirs as they pressed close around her in a great pile of bodies. Even hung from the roof, rope biting into her skin, prey and food on display, Velma felt like the center of a tremendous cluster of embraces and comforts. Hands stroked her sides, her hair, her stomach, her legs. Voices gentle and gruff both praised her, thanked her, encouraged her. They coaxed her further down with each drop, gratifying her each time her chest would withdraw and heave outward, more and more tense energy unspooling down her legs, into their mouths, along their wrists. They adored her as they did their queen, both in how they embraced her and how they hungered for her. That was what made the divinity, the royalty, that for even a moment one could be so completely central, so unifying an edifice. She was intimately loved, she was romantically held, she was food, she was relief, she was nurturing. If only for a moment, she shone like the queen did, and the queen allowed her. The queen wanted her to feel it.

As Velma came down from the high and remained shuddering and swaying in the ropes, some of them departed to be with the queen. One knelt between her majesty’s legs and brought his tongue to her sex. Some remained, trailing kisses or gentle touches still, trying to awake the fire again or at least keep the coals burning. The queen gestured for one and brought her close. She started to give a command, then smiled and leaned in to whisper in her ear. The girl left for a moment and then returned with a tray. Chocolate-covered fruit, honeyed oats, piles of nuts.

“Eat, darling,” The queen spoke to her, and being called one of her darlings, being recognized was a goosebump-raising pleasure in and of itself, “The change will be slow, and we will want to feed again before it finishes.”

The female thrall set the tray on the ground below Velma and pushed a strand of ruby-red hair from her eyes as she picked up a chocolate-covered slice of orange and put it between her lips, then brought them to meet Velma’s. She pushed it into Velma’s mouth and it began to melt between their tongues, soft warm chocolate and the sweet acidity underneath coming onto both of their lips. Behind her, one of the men rubbed the head of his cock against her pussy and kneaded the skin of her hips with his hands forcefully enough to make the skin bloom red.

“There will be pain, but we will do what we can to guide you through it, as we have done so far.” The queen rested her hand in her own thrall’s hair.

The head of the male thrall’s cock split her lips and slid inside of her cunt as the orange burst between the teeth of the female’s, lighting their saliva with the tang of citrus. Velma’s legs shook, if she’d been standing her knees would have buckled. Her tongue reached greedily for the orange and she felt teeth softly pinch it as the man pushed more of his shaft into her, bending double over her back until his breath was close in her ear and his hands moved to her breasts. He was filling her, hot as a brand and stretching her around him, the throb of a heartbeat through his cock suggesting that perhaps humanity did not end where beast began. His palms were large enough to handle the heft of her chest and the size of his body was enough to make her feel small, more suspended for him to use and envelop than something he had to reach and grasp at. A strawberry slipped between the pair of lips and the taste of honey met the retreating tang.

For the first time in a long time Velma realized that the gaze of the queen had left her eyes and that her body could move of its own accord. The queen was looking down at the thrall between her legs, leaving Velma and the two on either side of her alone in their way. There was no thought of resisting, even now that she could have brought herself to thrash about and scream. The bite marks that dotted her skin didn’t hurt, and she was still so lightheaded and so lust-drunk that all she wanted was to stay where she had awakened to find herself. The dark hands of the thrall behind her kneading her chest, clutching occasionally for her neck, her hips, his voice soft and his breath hot in her ear. The female thrall broke their kiss as his thrusts started to rock the hanging rope back and forth more forcefully, twisting her stomach up in knots of pleasure and anticipation. She instead reached down for the plate and kissed a slice of honeyed apple before pushing it with her fingers into Velma’s mouth. She watched Velma swing and chew, then brought up a slice of peach covered in white chocolate.

She felt the man straighten up and grip the rope around her arms, using it to pump her onto and off of him and give his hips as rest. She was being pushed and pulled back and forth through the air, dragging the lips of her cunt wetly across his cock both ways, gripping onto him with her sex and slapping his balls against her clit each time he speared her down toward him. She let her mouth hang open, letting him hear her moans and her whimpers and getting something salted and caramel for it. Then he shifted and brought himself back down near to her, his hands on her breasts again. The sound of his breath now was much faster, higher in pitch and more erratic as he lost his breath, pounding into her but holding her in place. The other thrall brought their lips together again, a flush of sweet and sour and salty all at once, Velma felt her body shudder and freeze again, suddenly cracking like glass.

Her cunt was on fire, squeezing and squirting out of control on her partner, drawing a relieved sigh and moan into her ear as he reached his climax too. Even as her body shuddered and jerked in her own eye-rolling bliss, she could feel his seed spilling out into her, heat and intensity spreading with the beating rapid pulse of his twitching cock. He suddenly felt as warm around her body as a blanket, and the lips of the other like fire. Flavors crashed and mixed in her mouth, colored like pleasure and running like intersecting streams. Colored spit ran down both chins as mixed semen and wetness ran down both legs. She was drenched in sweat, both her own and strange, and the beads of it made every inch of her not touching someone else feel cold. The man kissed the back and side of her neck, the girl held her cheeks in either hand and kissed around her flushed face.

And when Velma opened her eyes again it was the queen kissing her face, bringing sweet fruits to her lips, smiling at her like for all the world Velma was her favorite. Then moved her face up to kiss the man, his cock still buried in Velma and softening.

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