COLLEGE COEDS OF THE CORN

Part VII: Ritual

Tom Miller moaned, mindlessly, animalistically, repeatedly, as he felt a pair of small, soft lips kiss the swollen head of his cock. He instinctively recognized the pattern, but it was hard to say that he was thinking about it. He didn’t think about much anymore.

For the past week he had been tied up in the barn. He was given enough water and food to keep him going. Other than that, whether he was awake or asleep, he was caught up in a sexual cycle that hadn’t made any sense before he’d let his brain shut down, and certainly now had just become an external part of the rhythm of his body’s functions.

After the streetside orgy he and Diane had been dragged humping and moaning into, the next thing he had remembered had been waking up in the barn, surrounded by dozens of other faces he recognized from town. During that first day, they had hurriedly networked among each other and realized that other than a couple of missing individuals all the men in town had been gathered and tied up in that barn.

The count had been slowed down by the women circulating among them. When Tom had first awakened in that barn, Jack Paulson next to him had been half-consciously receiving a handjob from a perky-titted woman with a tousled blonde bob haircut and had only joined the conversation after he had watch her plum hips saunter over to Casey Lister and settle directly onto his waiting erection. Jack had transitioned from disconnected from the conversation to complaining about the woman leaving him unfinished to participating in trying to understand what they were all doing there.

Tom had participated from the start, but had been slightly distracted as he had watched a tall, toned, busty black woman with long hair a few “stations” down rubbing Anthony Tapper’s dick with her perfectly smooth, achingly perfect breasts. Tom had watched her, and then as he had watched this woman move to her right and begin jerking off Hank Letter he had felt a faint flutter in his stomach as he had come to believe she would be working her way toward him and his fluttering, curious erection.

Once they’d established that basically the whole male population of Stradlin was gathered in that barn, there had been struggles to escape. Younger, stronger men had attempted to break Free of the leather bonds holding them down but had ultimately either tired themselves out with failure or been distracted when their turn with one of the women circling the barn had arisen. Tom had watched as Rocky Collins, a young farmhand who seemed the likeliest to be able to snap his leather straps, had given up in frustration, then tried to take that frustration out on the tall black woman as she left Anthony Tapper and started trying to lick Rocky’s dick. His attempts to strike her with his knees, swiveling around on his tied ankles to do so, hadn’t deterred her, and before long even the angry young man down the line had found himself moaning at her tongue’s work. Rocky had gotten so into it he had started aggressively dirty talking to the woman, cursing and saying things like “Yeah, I hope you choke on the massive load I’m gonna blow down your throat!” and “Suck it you little whore, untie me and see what that big stick can do to your Pussy you bitch!”

When the beautiful ebony woman had left Rocky behind to move over to John Freeman, Rocky had first started cursing and trying to swing his legs at her, then had resorted to asking, then ultimately begging her to come back to him and finish him off.

By this point, though, it was becoming clear: these women were very zealous in their work, and several of them were very clearly and vocally enjoying that work, but they had no intention of fully satisfying any of the men in that barn.

Still, Tom had clung to the idea that he would be different. He had been sure that, as excited as he felt watching the woman’s dark, glistening skin as she glided through the barn, an angel incarnate bestowing her blessings on all those less deserving men, he would be so eager to blow his load that he would be able to unload it before she could stop herself. Tom had psyched himself up as she approached, confident that if he could build his excitement as high as he could before she had reached him that her merest touch would set him off.

Someone deeper in the barn had been yelling, sounding as though there had been something to fear back there, but all Tom had feared was not getting the fullest possible excitement out of the steadily approaching woman. Someone nearby had been talking to him, but he had already, to a certain extent, given into the situation, no longer caring what these women’s true intentions might have been and as long as he got his turn.

He had thought briefly on his Wife, but the last thing he’d remembered of Diane was her reaching hand holding the head of the girl licking her special place and still moaning with loud, public satisfaction even as Tom’s vision had gone black. He’d had a strong feeling — and correctly so — that wherever she was, she was still enjoying herself as much as when he’d last seen her. In fact, as he had watched his ebony obsession pull her mouth off of John Freeman’s disappointed erection, Diane was getting her first taste of Isaac Chroner’s inhuman erection and not at all thinking of where her husband might be right then.

When the dark-skinned woman had stopped in front of him, staring down with a blank look on her face, Tom had become worried that she had seen how eager he was to feel her and was going to pass him by. He had considered preemptively begging, but just as he’d been widening his eyes desperately the woman had leaned forward, lifting one of her dark nipples up to his lips and letting him taste her skin, the salty taste of her exertions exhilarating on his taste buds as he had flicked her firm flesh with his tongue until she had given a light moan over his head.

And when she had pulled her breast from his mouth, he had feared that that was all she was going to give him, a taste and nothing more, not even her knee brushing his raging boner as she stood up straight. He had once again prepared himself to beg when she had turned around, her plump, juicy Ass swaying right at his eye level for a moment before slowly lowering itself onto his lap.

Tom’s mouth had hung open as he watched her descent, catching a glimpse of pink before it had disappeared beneath the curve of her Ass, finding it again with an altogether different sense as her wet lips had landed their mark right on his reaching, eager cockhead. Someone had been saying his name, others had been cursing and yelling around him, but all of his senses had been attuned to the stranger settling her weight onto his cock.

As soon as he had gotten completely inside that tight, burning Pussy, she had leaned her body back against him, wrapping her arms around his head and beginning to move her hips in ways that Diane never had. He had thought of his Wife again, and decided that if he got to blow his load inside this perfect figure slowly swiveling her Ass on his lap he didn’t care if Diane rode every man in town. Hell, if he had seen her working her way through that barn he would have told her to have fun and they’d trade notes later.

He never saw his Wife in that barn, though, and he didn’t bust his load inside that woman, either. He didn’t bust his load all week, his mind growing more and more lost as he became part of a whirlpool of sexual energy in that barn. Tom became so enraptured with the sensations he felt that week that he began to see through to the other side, the ghostly figures that haunted the Reverie and their unending orgiastic flights that these figures took through reality. He even began to see the altered shadows that followed every girl through the barn, the distillations of their minds, bodies, and spirits into purely sexual beings reflected against the clouded backdrop of reality. When one of the women put his cock in their mouth, he saw the second mouth that drank of him and took something more. When one of the women wrapped her legs around him and the pole to which he was tied and humped him, he saw that his dick was penetrating one body and another spirit. When another woman spread her cheeks and pressed him into her tight asshole, he saw the brilliant explosion of shapes and colors beyond the veil that accompanied this new experience.

His dark-skinned angel had guided him through the gate, and now whenever she cycled through to him he saw that she was perfectly attuned to the shadow behind her. There was no division between body, mind, or spirit, and when he entered her he entered the entirety of her at once.

Tom understood these things instinctually, but when Brett tried to get him to explain the situation in the barn, he could only roll his eyes and moan, feeling the gentle strokes of the spirits as they aroused the deeper part of his own spirit connected to the Reverie while he waited for his next turn being touched in body. If his Wife could have seen him, she would have seen a familiar change coming over him: the growth of his cock, not so large as that which Isaac boasted but striving to fill itself up with the energies the Reverie had to offer, growing so that by the time Brett arrived to observe what Tom Miller had become the speechless man was hardly ever left alone, the women seeing and feeling in him the piercing touch of the Reverie so that no visitor bothered to jerk him, or suck him, or titfuck him; no, in that barn he had become special, a station above the others whose cock was now devoted entirely to filling the graced pussies of those who tended the men within the barn.

Brett caught onto this quickly, and saw the jealous looks of the men in the barn who were still cogent enough to think beyond the next handjob, the next Blowjob, the next chance to maybe, just maybe, perhaps accidentally Orgasm before they were dragged from the barn.

“This has been a… a very tryin week,” Anthony Tapper managed to sigh as a slim Asian girl with long straight hair gently massaged the head of his dick with her lips. “A lot of men’ve just shut down, like Tom over there. Though… not quite like Tom. Tom’s… whatever’s… whatever’s… hmm… whatever’s gettin us has got Tom real bad.”

“But like… do you have any idea what the actual hell is actually going on here?” Brett asked, eyes on the artistic ways those lips danced on his neighbor’s rod and knowing enough already to look forward to some part of the tiny woman to find its way to his cock next.

“Satan,” someone said from behind Brett. “Satan’s come to Stradlin. Satan found us weak and is trying to turn us against God. He’s sending every false-faced demoness he can to turn us against the Almighty. He’s trying to use the sin to make sinners of us, but I won’t have it.”

“Don’t you mind Kevin back there,” Anthony said, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. “He’s gotten his willy sucked as much as the rest of us. The words he’s sayin when it’s happenin might be prayers, but there sure ain’t no piety when he’s sayin em.”

Kevin mumbled something behind them, but spoke no further. The animalistic sounds of the barn, close in both function and form to what one might normally expect in such a building, continued on for a little while. Brett let Anthony Tapper enjoy the gentle licks and kisses he was receiving uninterrupted for as long as he could stand, then asked, “But what are they trying to do here? Is this just some sort of… of experiment, or weird revenge, or something? I mean it sure looks great, but why is this happening?”

“Not sure why, but there is a goal of some sort,” Anthony said, frowning as the Asian woman released his cock from her mouth with a light popping sound. “There’s a process. At some point men get taken away, and they don’t come back. Used to be much more crowded here.”

The petite woman rose from her knees, glancing ahead toward Tom but pausing nonetheless to drop to her knees in front of Brett. Wide eyes looking up from the floor, she quietly began to lap at Brett’s tensing flesh with her tiny tongue. He groaned lightly, gritting his teeth for a moment before looking away and asking Anthony, “And no clue where there are going? What’s happening to them? Anything?”

Anthony’s eyes had locked on the woman licking Brett’s cock, and he snapped himself out to say, “No clue, son. No clue. At this point, I’m just hoping one of these girls spends enough time with me to give me some relief before I get taken out there myself.”

There wasn’t much left for them to say. Brett relaxed back and watched the head of his cock slowly slip deeper and deeper into this new woman’s mouth. He was fully erect, throbbing against her narrow lips, trying not to let himself believe that his balls would save him from this pattern all the men had spoken of and unload on her wet tongue, her smooth face, her straight hair, her little tits, all over her twice over if the heaviness in his balls was any indication.

She only had eyes for Tom Miller, though, and his shockingly large, erect, unused cock. He could see the flush in her cheeks and could only imagine how wet she was with eagerness to take advantage of that supersized erection.

Seeing the look of crestfallen disappointment on the Asian woman’s face as that tall redhead walked in and made her way directly to Tom Miller gave Brett a small bit of vengeful satisfaction. Frowning, the Asian woman continued to lick him as Mallory bent over at the hips, spit on Tom’s dick, and turned to slip the entire length confidently into her Pussy.

Brett turned back to watch the young woman hanging on his cock force her mouth further down, her annoyance turning into Brett’s benefit as she began to bob her head faster on him. He thought maybe this turn of events would swing to his advantage — a thought that also crossed Anthony’s mind jealously — but then Mallory began talking to Brett from Tom’s lap.

It took Brett a moment to realize she was talking to him, but he caught on quickly enough to catch her statement: “Your woman is still missing, Outlander. Do you think she ran off and left you for us to play with?”

“Huh?” Brett said, turning and making eye contact with her jiggling breasts as Mallory slowly moved her hips back to front against Tom’s hidden rod. “Vicky? I-I don’t know,” he said, struggling to look Mallory in the eyes as her perfect breasts clutched his vision. “What do you want her for? What do you want us for?”

Mallory’s mouth twisted in an approximation of a smile. “She Who Loves Behind the Rows must share her passion with all the world,” she said, reaching up and squeezing her breasts for Brett. He licked his lips, feeling his balls tighten at the sight. Just keep licking down there, he thought, staring as Mallory began shaking her breasts for him. With your licking and her tits, I can be the one to break the curse in this barn.

Mallory started moving faster, letting her breasts fall across her chest as she planted her hands on Tom’s hips and began bouncing on his cock. “She wants all the world to know Her passion,” she grunted. “She wants all the world to join Her in the fertile fields,” she moaned. “Sh-She wants all the world to feel — to feel the state of constant pleasure She lives with!” she cried as she reached between her legs to start rubbing at her clit. “Oh fuck, fuck yeah! Fuck! Fuck!” she screamed, dropping down deep onto Tom’s lap, holding his cock as far in as it would go, rubbing her clit faster, legs tensing, mouth opening wide until her next noise was a long, guttural cry as she claimed her next Orgasm.

Brett was sure that the sight would be enough to bring him right to the edge and that the girl on her knees in front of him would blow him over that edge, but as though reading his mind she had lifted her head off of his lap. She was watching Mallory too as the last spasms of her Orgasm relaxed her against Tom’s disconnected body. She continued to slowly, gently, absently rub Brett’s cock, but he knew it wasn’t enough even before Mallory slid off of Tom’s lap and the petite Asian woman rushed to take over his waiting rod.

As Mallory stumbled slightly to cross over to the pole Brett was tied to, she said, “And if your woman doesn’t hurry, she won’t be able to stop us from offering your body to Her tonight.”

“Is-is she…?” Brett began to ask, wondering if She Who Loves Behind the Rows was as attractive as all the other women he had seen, but he began to feel in his gut that the question had a far darker answer than he wanted to hear.

Before he could figure out what to say next, Mallory had gestured towards the entrance of the barn and a group of women approached.

Still caught up in the hypnotic curves of Mallory’s breasts, mind still awash in the possibilities as he was surrounded by six naked bodies pressing close around him, Brett didn’t consider that he should put up a resistance. By the time the thought occurred to him that he might be able to Free himself from his situation, his ankles and wrists were retied in a position that would just allow him to shuffle along as one of the women tied a rope around his neck and started to guide him away from the spot to which he’d been bound.

Not that he felt escaping was going to be easily made a priority when there were so many perky asses for him to follow out of the barn. As he stepped blinking into the fading yet still blinding sunlight outdoors, however, he got a glimpse of a strange structure at the edge of the yard he was being led toward, rising ten feet tall just at the edge of the cornfield.

Anthony’s warnings about all the men who were taken from the barn and never returned broke suddenly into his thoughts, cracking the veil of excitement he’d allowed to fall over his rational thoughts. Taking a deep, centering breath, Brett forced himself to hold back against their nubile guidance as the gathering walked away from the barn. He bumped into a smooth, nude body behind him, brushed a bare shoulder beside him, but was disappointed that his bounding cock touched nothing but his own hip.

“Wait, hold on,” Brett said, still struggling to bring them to a stop. “What-whatever you guys are planning on doing with me, can I at least use the bathroom first? Give a guy a break.”

The women looked back and forth between each other, before Mallory, boredom sketched across her face, said, “Sure. Get Sarah.”

“Huh?” Brett asked, confused as they pulled him off the dirt path leading from the doorway and around to the side of the barn.

“You have to piss?” Mallory asked.

“Y-yeah….”

“We’re open to all forms of lust here,” Mallory said as a curved brunette with big hips and bigger breasts came out of the house and crossed the yard. “The filth by which a person satisfies themselves is personal to them. This is Sarah, and she will use your filth for her pleasure.”

“What? You’re kidding,” Brett said, watching in shock as the curvy brunette knelt in front of him in the dirt beside the barn and started fingering herself while lifting one of her breasts up for him with her other hand.

“She likes to feel dirty, Outlander,” Mallory said, huddling closer and holding Brett’s erection pointed straight at Sarah’s tits. “Cover her with it. She loves getting off while it’s running all over her.”

“This is disgusting,” Brett said, looking back and forth between Sarah’s massive breasts and Mallory’s close, suddenly seductive face.

Despite his words, however, as he felt his full bladder struggle with decades of propriety, he felt himself getting excited. Maybe it was just how long and how thoroughly he’d been teased, maybe it was a secret, filthy pleasure inherent in what they were telling him to do, but as he finally let his bladder release, as he felt the vibrations of it coursing through his cock, as Mallory gently stroked him despite the filth of the thing he was doing, as Sarah started giving sharp little moans of pleasure as she was splashed by his stream, but for the first time he admitted to the possibility that there could be something inherently sexual in what all of the women around him were unabashedly watching him do just then.