'Tis the Season
- 'Tis the Season
- - Answer to the Fictalk Halloween Challenge
- by Kate441 (email@example.com) and Raine (firstname.lastname@example.org)
- Rating: NC-17, ***Adult Themes***
- Summary: Witheld at authors' request
- Disclaimer: There is no way the man would want responsibility for this
- But just in case, 1013, FOX, Chris Carter own them, we don't.
- Category: SAH
- Keywords: Challenge Authors' notes at end
- Tired. So tired.
- He leaned his back against the rough-hewn rock and hung his head while
he tried to catch his breath. Although it seemed like he'd been down here
in the dark forever, two hours was probably closer to the truth. He wondered
if he was any closer to an exit.
- Ducking into the cave had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
And when he heard the search approach his hiding place, he'd been happy
to discover a tunnel at the back that he could disappear into until they
moved on to the next search area.
- But they didn't move on.
- They'd followed him into the tunnel.
- So he'd headed deeper into the dark with only a pen light to guide
- Which explained the large bump growing on his forehead; he hadn't realized
the roof of the tunnel had large protrusions hanging down until he'd found
out the hard way - with his head. He'd actually seen stars after his sudden
discovery. After that, he'd made sure to swing the light up to the ceiling
regularly, allowing him to avoid further 'surprises.'
- Now that his breathing had slowed down, he could just make out the
rustling sound of those who were following him. He didn't want to think
about what would happen if they caught up to him, so he didn't. Wearily,
he pushed away from the wall and switched the little light back on to guide
- How in Christ's sake had he managed to get himself into this one? He
wondered ruefully, pausing to rub at one of the developing goose eggs on
his cranium. After everything he'd been through, he should have more sense.
Silently swearing at himself, he heard the whispering sounds of his pursuers
- He'd just had to go for the brass ring. It was a top security installation,
and he'd gotten cocky, underestimated his mark. Again, he started down
the tunnel, only the flickering, small point of light to guide him.
- The soft scuttling, whispering sounds of his followers echoed down
toward the hunched man. The acoustics made them sound impossibly close.
Involuntarily, he shuddered. If they caught him...He couldn't think of
what would happen and also keep his fear at bay, so he concentrated only
on the path ahead of him.
- It was just too bad that he had horrible claustrophobia, and the tunnel
was growing impossibly small.
- It was just his dumb luck that the pen light chose just that moment
to release its last bit of life, flaring to an almost brilliant brightness
before leaving him in complete darkness.
- Shit. Perfect.
- Without the little light, the sounds of pursuit seemed to swell in
volume. Or, they really were getting closer. He took a deep breath and
tried to reign in his rampaging claustrophobia. He couldn't just stop and
wait for them to catch up with him here in the dark; he had to keep moving.
Putting one hand up to protect his aching forehead from further damage,
he used his other hand to guide himself along the rough rock of the tunnel
wall and, bent almost double, continued forward.
- Once again, time expanded and filled the cramped darkness. And little
rustling sounds surrounded him. His mouth was dry and his heartbeat pounded
in his ears.
- An unknown amount of time later, the man realized the darkness was
no longer absolute. An infinitesimal amount of light drew him forward like
a beacon. Before long, he realized he could see the silhouettes of the
obstacles hanging from the ceiling between him and the light. His back
was cramping from bending low for so long, however long it had been. He
felt like Atlas holding the world up on his shoulders.
- The tunnel grew larger as the light increased. It meandered towards
the light, never giving him a glimpse of the actual source of the illumination.
With the improved visibility, he was able to pick up the pace. His pursuers
also seemed to be moving faster. Or were they just that much closer? He
put that thought out of his mind and concentrated on getting to the light.
- 'These boots weren't made for walking, that's for sure,' he thought
as he plodded on. He wished he had his running shoes on; they were so much
lighter. But then, considering the unevenness of the tunnel, he'd have
probably broken an ankle by now. So, it was probably better that he was
wearing his favorite boots, even if they were starting to feel like lead
- Of course, a hard hat would have saved his head from all the damage
from low-hanging rocks. 'Maybe I should make a miner's helmet, lamp and
all, part of my regular gear from now on...' he mused. 'Naaa. A much better
idea is to *never* go into a cave from now on!' he promised himself.
- Coming around a sharp turn in the tunnel, he stopped, blinded by the
light shining directly in his eyes.
- The cave emptied out into a empty field of painfully bright white light.
Blinking, the pursued tried desperately to adjust his vision. His body
twisted in confused, involuntary reaction to the light, his hands up to
his eyes. One of his boots slipped on the rocks at the entrance of the
seemingly limitless cave. Grabbing against the stone archway, he managed
to maintain his balance quickly.
- Just as he was tentatively moving his foot outward to verify the impossible,
his pursuers reached him. The whispering, scraping sounds of their footfalls
began to make the final turn to the dead end where he was huddled.
- Frantically, the shaking boot felt blindly for any purchase, any sign
of solid ground at all. There was none offered.
- As the first soldier screamed, "Halt!", he took a deep breath,
pulling his black stocking cap down more firmly onto his head out of sheer
- And stepped into a smooth, impossibly lit void in the middle of the
- It seemed like he was both falling and hovering forever, both at once,
in a kind of endless, terrifying, nausea-fest. It was like those chambers
they used to train astronauts to endure weightlessness, he thought. Or
that's what the government said they were used for, anyway. After his studies
into NASA, he wasn't as sure as he had once been.
- In consternation, he shook his head. He was in the middle of, quite
literally, nowhere, falling in a damn unusual manner for being in the middle
of a mountain, and he was thinking about conspiracies. Maybe he should
think about a new occupation. After all, it wasn't unheard-of to change
careers at his age.
- The tube of white he was floating in had lit the rocks bounding it
brilliantly, and through the light there were flashes of what he presumed
were quartz. Jesus Mary Mother of God, he thought, now it's rocks. He clutched
his head, wondering if he were going insane, and if that would be such
a bad thing. His body moved with impossible slowness, ever downward.
- Then he heard it, and his panic threatened to grow too large for his
body to contain it.
- "Hello." The modulated woman's voice reverberated the length
of the cave the man was falling in. The crystals caught the pitch of her
"L" sound and hummed them in endless echo.
- Still floating slowly downwards, he jerked his head up and around to
look over his shoulder, instinctively looking for the source of that voice.
Somehow, that action caused him to spin and pick up speed.
- 'Uh, oh.'
- And he landed. On his back. With a thump, but not a splat, like he'd
expected. 'Well, that went better than I'd hoped....'
- Before he had a chance to catch his breath, some sort of black sack
was pulled over his head, thankfully blocking the bright light, but also
preventing him from seeing. Rough hands hauled him to his feet.
- The rustling and whispering surrounded him and echoed in the chamber.
His arms pinioned behind his back, he felt more hands (at least, he hoped
they were hands) tearing at his clothes. Buttons popped and seams tore
as items were removed and inspected for weapons and snooping devices. Each
time one was found, the whispering grew louder and then he heard a 'crack'
as it was smashed against the rocks.
- Soon, he was completely naked. His hands cuffed behind his back, there
was no way he'd be able to remove the hood.
- More hands poked and prodded and petted him all over. He tried to twist
away from the hands, but they were everywhere. He shivered. He wanted to
run, to hide, but there was no way he could in his present condition.
- Gritting his teeth, he growled, "What do you want from me?"
- The whispering stopped.
- But the hands probed him more intimately.
- Again, "What do you want from me?"
- Some of the hands were very warm. Some were icy cold.
- The woman's voice spoke. "Do not concern yourself. We will take
what we want."
- At that, his teeth began to chatter.
- What in the hell was he going to do now? From the sound of things,
he thought, assessing his situation quickly, there were several people
- Something deep in the recesses of his mind said, 'Interesting, but
what if they're not people?' As quickly as the thought formed, he shoved
it away. In spite of his interests, at heart he was a practical man and
did not like the idea of something...
- 'Formless? Ghostly?' His mind supplied unhelpfully.
- All other musings were squelched when the hands started to make their
demands more clear. Of course the cold hands had to be the ones to grab
his balls, he thought, whimpering aloud.
- The same soothing, yet detached voice spoke. "I apologize for
the temperature. An unfortunate side effect of our...Well, let's just say
- Why, he wondered desperately, did the woman sound so familiar? He couldn't
quite place it, yet he knew somewhere he'd...His arms released from the
cuffs, only to be jerked upward and tied together again, this time with
rope. Then they were pulled together above him until his toes were the
only thing touching the ground, and them only barely. Too bad he wasn't
still wearing his boots, he thought dimly. He might have been flat footed
then, and it wouldn't have been so painful, hanging from his arms.
- Reality was starting to seep away from him. With the recognition of
experience, he knew it was shock, but he didn't struggle against it too
hard. His impression was that he was going to need the psychological buffer,
- His assessment was validated when the woman spoke again. As she spoke,
the invisible hands started pinching, stroking. He jerked as one slapped
his ass, stinging his flesh.
- "They tend to get carried away. It's been a long time...For all
of us." Her voice moved closer, becoming sibilant. "And we crave."
- No, he thought. No, he had to fight against this. The hands crawled
over his body, and the fingers felt like countless little insects swarming
into the most intimate crevices of his body.
- Maybe that was what was happening, he thought. He was unconscious,
knocked out and on the floor, and he was covered with bugs. Oh God. As
extreme his hatred of insects was, the thought was comforting.
- But that mental ploy too was shattered when he felt her. His teeth
chattered uncontrollably as the swarming hands moved slightly to allow
her purchase on his body. He could feel her, pressing against him, and
she was as cold as the grave. She stroked his arms, and he could feel his
flesh numb where the pressure (hands they're hands they have to be, he
thought) moved to.
- Then the cold was between his legs, grasping him, sliding along his
length, and he could feel himself becoming hard as if his body had no say
in the matter. It was so freezing, he thought, beginning to drift from
consciousness. The pressure moved downward, and an even icier suction took
him in, complete with velvet sliding sensation, an obscene parody of a
mouth, leeching the warmth from his bones and the strength from his body.
He jerked desperately, feebly, the toes of his bare feet only sliding on
the packed dirt. Even the dirt was freezing.
- Teeth chattering and feeling like a giant popsicle, he thought it couldn't
get much worse. He was wrong.
- A frigid finger (at least he really hoped it was a finger) covered
in a chilly gel began to probe the puckered little opening in his ass.
Squirming only got more of the icy hands busy groping other parts of his
body to hold him in place and did nothing to discourage what was happening
either in front of or behind him. He thought he heard muffled giggles behind
him. Cold as he was, he couldn't stop the sudden blush that turned his
face and chest red with embarrassment. Glad now that his face was covered,
he hoped they hadn't noticed the new color of his chest.
- They had. Icy wetness (more mouths?) began toying with his nipples,
licking and teasing, sucking even the warmth of his embarrassment from
him. His mind went blank as his body went into sensory overload.
- The mouth slacked off somewhat while the finger continued to work the
icy lube deeper into his ass. Other helpful hands held his cheeks apart
as a second finger joined the first in penetrating him. Another icy hand
reached from behind to lift and separate his balls, rolling them gently
in their sack. They felt so cold, he wouldn't have been surprised to hear
them clink when they rolled together.
- Since it looked like whatever happened was going to happen no matter
what he did, he tried to relax to make it easier on his body. But it wasn't
working. All the relaxation techniques in the world were not going to help
as his most sensitive body parts slowly numbed from the icy attention they
- By now, at least three fingers were stroking deep into his ass. Now
he was squirming because it was actually starting to feel good, cold and
all. This time, as the fingers withdrew, they turned and scraped lightly
across his prostate. The frozen pleasure/pain made him cry out as it pierced
what little warmth remained in his body. If he didn't explode soon, he
thought he just might shatter instead.
- He hung there, his toes scraping against the cold earth, his hips being
jerked faster back and forth between the ghostly figures at work on his
body. Whimpering, he simultaneously prayed for the motions to cease and
never stop. The cold began to leach into his bones, lowering his core body
temperature and sapping his will to even think about fighting against the
enormous, building force in his body.
- With a dull curiosity, he wondered if he would be frozen when they
finished, if he would break apart like so many splinters of an icicle.
Were they intent on taking the last vestiges of warmth from his most intimate
core? Suddenly, even as he felt his body reach the point of no return,
the bound man knew who they were.
- However, his realization arrived too late, and he screamed, chattering
and jerking helplessly as he came, still hanging from the ropes his arms
were tied to.
- Tired. So tired.
- He hung his head while he tried to catch his breath. Although it seemed
that he'd come forever, he was a realist - two minutes was probably a lot
closer to the truth. He wondered if he was going to freeze to death and
die, since he couldn't see any other way out of this situation.
- Still weak in the knees, shuddering, and shivering, he suddenly realized
the tone of the whispering and rustling around him had changed. Intensified.
'Now what?' Feeling the sluggishness of hypothermia setting in, he knew
he'd never survive another session like the last one.
- New hands started roaming his body. Surprised, his brain finally registered
that they were actually warm and soft. He started to feel the tingle of
a thaw setting in.
- And then he heard a rattling sound. And then hissing. And then more
rattling and hissing. All around him. 'Shit.'
- His frozen body tried to respond by retracting his icy balls even further
into his body for protection, but there was nowhere to hide, not for any
part of him. All he could do was wait. And hope the end came quickly.
- Unprepared for what he felt, the bound man jerked at the first contact
with his stomach. And then with his butt. And his arm pit. And his knee.
- 'I probably look like a fucking marionette,' he thought as he recoiled
from yet another touch. And then the physical sensations finally connected
with his brain. He stopped jerking as he realized he was feeling warmth,
not pain, spreading from the contacts.
- Smooth, creamy warmth.
- It might have even smelled good, like pine or menthol or something,
but he couldn't tell for sure over the mustiness of the interior of the
- Before long, his entire body, from fingertips to toenails, was covered
in a layer of warmth. It felt fantastic, whatever it was. 'I must be hallucinating.
They say you feel warm when you stop shivering and slip into hypothermia.
That's okay, this is the way to go...'
- The hands left him alone in the warmth. Drowsy, he thought he'd kind
of miss them when he died. He wondered if they'd miss him.
- Startled, he jumped when he felt the sharp metal edge scrape along
his stomach. The voice spoke, "It is in your own best interest to
remain as still as possible. We do not wish to harm you."
- Suddenly wide awake, he did his best imitation of a statue as more
sharp edges began scraping other parts of his body, removing the smooth,
creamy warmth. The air currents chilled the newly exposed areas of flesh,
causing goose bumps to follow the paths of the blades.
- He almost jerked again when another hand lifted his balls to shave
them as well, but he stopped himself in time. Taking deep breaths, he tried
to relax as the last vestiges of body hair were scraped off him. 'If I
survive this, I'm not going to be able to go swimming or to the gym for
months! Everybody will laugh at me! Have to wear turtlenecks all summer.
Can't wear shorts. Shit! And if I don't survive this...Fuck.' He didn't
want to think about anyone finding his lifeless, hairless body.
- What felt like soft cloths were used to massage every inch of his body.
Again, he couldn't stop his body from responding to the attention. Like
a compass, his erection proudly pointed towards true north as he felt bodies
on each side of him and hands wrapping around various body parts. Then
he heard it,: the click and whine of cameras taking pictures.
- He cringed in his naked hairlessness, but there was nowhere to hide.
And the insistent hands refused to let his erection sag as positions were
changed and exchanged. He wondered which of his enemies was behind this
and where the photographs were going to turn up.
- Finally, the photo shoot ended.
- The sounds became louder and louder, mocking his renewed attempts to
get free of the bonds which constrained him. Too much...Everything that
happened was overloading his system. Finally, the high-pitched whining
grew unbearably loud. When his wrists were suddenly released, his body
slumped forward, unconscious.
- "Urrghpphh." The man's head, face down on the keyboard, moved
slightly. A muffled groan was his only sound. His arms hung down limply,
almost touching the floor. The large black cat draped over the monitor
watched the proceedings with disinterest.
- "Is he awake yet?"
- "No, he's still out cold." A high-topped sneaker kicked at
the empty bottle. "I can't believe he can hold all this."
- There was a snort. "He can't, that's the problem. Based upon his
body weight, he shouldn't have imbibed half that." There was a sigh.
"Does he even know the news?"
- "I think I-" The man's voice sounded uncertain.
- "Never mind. It doesn't matter now, anyway. We might as well let
him sleep it off." Resignation colored the answer. "It looks
like he was listening to those old surveillance tapes all night."
- "I know, I turned them off when I came in. That old tape machine
was making this high-pitched whining sound, like the tape was stuck or
something. Anyway, I thought he was over her already." Puzzled tones
colored his next words. "And I still don't understand why he's wearing
that knit hat over his eyes while he's naked. It can't be keeping him very
warm. I mean, right next to the window? He's asking to catch his death,
not to mention giving the street sweepers a show."
- "Somehow, I don't think that was bothering him. From the looks
of the scotch bottle, he was feeling no pain. Who knows, maybe it's some
kind of anniversary." Byers shrugged. One hand reached down to pet
a large, furry animal. The dog gazed up at him adoringly, then jumped up
to lick the man's bearded cheek, rough tongue scraping.
- Langly said, "God, I hope not. I'd hate to see this every year.
Well, whatever, at least Ruby was here to keep him company." He grinned
down as the dog moved back to the man lying in front of the window, nosing
Frohike's limp form.
- "We can't just leave him face down on the keyboard; he'll never
be able to move when he wakes up. You take that arm and we'll move him
to the couch."
- When the two men leveraged their friend up out of his chair, they discovered
what his slumped form had been hiding - an enormous erection. His eyes
big, Langly looked at Byers and grinned, "I always thought his feet
were pretty big for a guy his size!" Byers just rolled his eyes as
he shook his head.
- As soon as they dropped him on the sofa, Frohike curled up in a ball
and started snoring. Byers closed the window and Langly covered their icy,
erect friend with a blanket retrieved from the bedroom.
- Byers said, "Well, let's go. We should return your sister's dog
before it gets too late." He paused. "Does she know about the
- "Nah." Langly clapped and crouched, receiving the bundle
of fur. He patted the drooling mutt's neck, smiling fondly. "What
she doesn't know won't hurt her."
- On their way out, they turned off the lights as they shut the door
quietly behind them.
- Authors' Notes: Trick or Treat!
- Did we scare ya, huh, did we, huh? Give us feedback or we'll be back!
- Kate441 (email@example.com) and Raine (firstname.lastname@example.org)
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