She leaves, but doesn't take anything

I figured that everything I could learn from the office, I'd learned. I made my way out, grinning at the goon outside when he gave me a "yeah, I know what just happened in there" look. The stupider they thought I was, the better. I casually walked down the steps, and out the door.

I made my way down the road back toward town. I spotted a hotel. It wasn't much to look at, but a bed and a room are better than nothing. I paid out of the expense money, and made my way to room 15. The room had most certainly seen better days. I could still smell the rye whiskey that the previous occupant must have shaken like champagne at a wedding to get that much smell in the room. The one bed was unmade, and the trash was full. I sighed, and sat my bag down.

I wasn't sure I even wanted to see the bathroom, but when I found it, I was pleasantly surprised by its cleanliness, and the big claw foot tub it had. I pulled a small flask out of my bag, and took a sip of rum before putting my hair up, slipping my dress and blouse off and my evening gown on. It was a skin-tight green dress that Mike had bought me for a job. My pale leg showed out of the slit, and my breasts nearly tore the bustline in half when I breathed. The corset beneath accentuated my already tapered waist. I put on my lipstick, eyeliner, and blush, and looked at myself in the mirror. It had taken me a while to look sexy without being sluttish, but I've learned how to pull it off.

I tucked the automatic in my handbag, and sat down on the bed for another nip of rum. It must have hit me a little harder than I thought between the rum, scotch, and sex. I laid back briefly, and before I knew it, I was asleep.

I had a dream. In it, I saw Dumas in a black robe, chanting at the edge of a circle. I was in the center, my legs tied to stakes in the floor. The chamber was massive. I sensed others in the darkness, but couldn't see their faces. The chanting went on and on, and I noticed I was naked except for a black silk scarf draped lazily across my hips. I tried to squirm, but couldn't. I breathed in thick, heavy incense with each breath. The chanting grew louder. Dumas made shapes in the air, and I could see the images linger in an afterimage. Pentagrams, swirls, and Hebrew letters.

I started to struggle now. Dumas smiled as he incanted. A redhaired woman in an open black robe kneeled in front of me. Her gorgeous body shown in the pale moonlight and the glowing symbols. She held a bowl of grapes. I tried to talk, but no words would come out. Delicately, she picked up a grape and studied it briefly. A wicked smile turned her pouty lips up, and she lowered the grape to my pubic hair. I gasped as she slid it down my lips, and gently pushed it into me.

She repeated this six more times, filling my pussy with plump, juicy grapes. She quickly left. I couldn't see Dumas now. He was at my head, chanting loudly. I saw a shape in the darkness move. It moved like a tiger would move in the zoo, but it looked, almost, human. I heard Dumas clap his hands, and then all was silent for a moment. Not for long.

It rushed onto me, more horrible than any illustration. Its body was warped and twisted. Its ribs stuck far out from a shriveled torso while its long arms and legs moved like a spider on a web, keeping it close to the ground. The worst was its head and face. Eyes as black as 8 balls, no hair at all, and a mouth three sizes to wide that hung in loose, bloodhound flaps with yellow boar tusks jutting out made up its mug. I barely had time to see its glistening, knobby member before it was on top of me.

It slid up to my pussy and sniffed deeply threw nostrils that looked like knife wounds. I gritted my teeth as its tongue slid out, snaking its way to my cunt. I closed my eyes as the slimy thing slipped inside of me and curled under the first grape, drawing it out, and hitting my G-spot, with a loud slurp before it swallowed it. I tried to think of something else as it popped the juicy grapes out slowly, savoringliy, one by one. I felt its tongue slide as deep as it could go to find the last grape, and when it was done, I barely got the "N" of "No!!!!" out before it scrambled up my body and rammed that thick, meaty thing into me.

I screamed then. It has huge and as a cold as a block of ice. My body arched against the ropes as it fucked me, my pussy clamping down, constricting against the ice-cold, foot long prick that slid in and out over and over and over. I felt its hot breath on my face and neck. Its slimy tongue slid out and ran over my pouty lips. Thin fingers as strong as cables gripped my bouncing tits and mauled them ruthlessly. In the background, I could hear Dumas laughing, and something else. A tingling sound. A phone...