The Visitors

                            by QuantumLeap (a former pen name)

                               Part XVI


The next few days passed quickly. I rarely saw my wife or Spike. The
bedroom door was closed when I left for work, and they returned to our
home together, very late at night. When they arrived, he always led her
silently by me, retiring to their room and locking the door.

She was always dressed in her best clothes, presented to her customers
as the elegant lady that Spike promised, bringing a price that few of
the most selective callgirls could demand. Her face was always
downcast, ashamed to look at me as he tugged at her reluctant hand,
towing her after him like a worrisome possession. Occasional glimpses
of her expression revealed her nightly exhaustion, the dark circles
beneath her tired eyes framed by the drying semen in her matted hair.

I had been virtually ignored the entire week. Spike had now excluded me
from every detail of their secretive comings and goings. Now, only he
watched as she serviced the select group of men able to afford her.
As I viewed the nightly surrender on her worn face, I felt her slipping
away from me, a little at a time, until I feared that Spike would own
her completely.

Friday evening I returned to find the house again empty. Pouring myself
a needed scotch, I peered through the kitchen window, watching the
inviting rippling of the crystal water in the oval pool. I had argued
against it when we built the house, not caring much for the water
myself. My wife got her way, having been a swimmer in high school and
college, and used the pool daily. She loved the water almost as much as
I loved watching her in it, although the approaching fall weather left
fewer and fewer opportunities for me to enjoy her agile body gliding
over the ice-blue surface.

It was then that I noticed the figures by the side of the pool. Legs
and arms intertwined, mouths sloppily sucking at each other, they
wrestled together on the smooth tile. My wife wore only the
yellow bottom of her most daring bikini, her firm, tanned
breasts flattened between her and the boy. He looked to be about
eighteen, all waist and legs, his lean body twisting and straining
beside her. As he rolled over her, I saw her hand working gently inside
his red surfer trunks, teasing and stroking him under the loose
material. Their bodies glistened in the late afternoon sun, heavily
oiled with lotion from the now overturned bottle.

"Ain't love beautiful!" Spike joked, startling me from behind as I
watched in disbelief.
"Eric's dad has BIG bucks, and a wicked sense of humor! He paid extra,
so a few of his buddies will be showin' up soon. We're havin' a pool
party, and you're the cook. Get the ground beef we bought today and
make us some burgers. I'll bet these guys will be workin' up some huge
fuckin' appetites!"

Camcorder in hand, he strolled outside and headed for the busy couple.
He stopped ten feet in front of them, kneeling to get the best angle as
he taped my wife with her young customer. Averting my eyes from the
degrading spectacle, I turned to the refrigerator to prepare the meal.

Just as I had finished shaping the five pounds of beef into a huge pile
of burgers, Spike strolled into the kitchen, followed by my wife and
her companion. My eyes were drawn to the shared fist between them,
fingers interlaced, her thumb moving slowly and gently over Eric's
trembling hand. He glanced repeatedly at her exposed, bouncing breasts,
the front of his trunks stained from the pre-cum of his still-erect
penis. They followed Spike into the family room, where I soon heard the
thudding beat of some unfamiliar hard rock blaring from my stereo.
Spike returned to the kitchen, ordering me to "Fire up the grill, the
others will be here soon!" My wife and the boy remained in the other
room, their laughter occasionally rising above the irritating music.

As I lowered each burger to the steaming surface, I couldn't help
thinking that it would be fuel for those who would use my wife later
this evening. Had Spike already given her the drugs, or was she truly
excited by this young, eager boy? How many more would show up to sample
her body, and in what ways would she be expected to satisfy them? Each
hiss from the raw meat was a mocking reply as it met the hot grill,
small voices ripping at my frayed mind.

Spike appeared beside me as I worked, opening a handful of the familiar
capsules, pouring the contents over one of the remaining patties.
Kneading the powder into the meat, then reshaping it, he replied,
"Guess who gets this one? Just make sure you keep it separate from the
others and see that she eats it. We don't want to disappoint anyone, do
we!" I placed it on the far corner of the grill, disgusted at having to
feed my wife the powerful drugs that would turn her into an insatiable
slut for this evening's entertainment.

Soon I heard the laughter and cheers of the others as they burst from
the door onto the tile deck. The boy's four friends carried two coolers
to the side of the pool, each filled with assorted brands of their
favorite beer. My wife and Eric followed them, stopping as she was
surrounded by the small crowd. They joked with her, boldly commenting
on what parts of her body were their favorites. She seemed to enjoy the
attention as her eyes devoured every inch of the five well-muscled
bodies.

"Let's eat!" Spike shouted, as the rowdy group closed in on my
topless wife. Opening more beer on the way, they headed for the grill,
the smell of the freshly seared meat distracting them for the moment.
I loaded the food onto the plastic plates as they passed by, making
sure to give my wife her special portion. She ignored me, talking to
the others as I gave her the drug-laced meat.

They devoured the meal in gulps, most returning for seconds and thirds.
I wasn't sure if they knew she was my wife, but I suspected they did
by the sly looks and grins they shot me as they returned to the grill
for more.

Soon, half the beer was gone and the five grew impatient, becoming more
aggressive, fondling and kissing my wife as their inhibitions melted
away.

The sun had slipped over the horizon unnoticed as everyone's attention
was fixed on my wife, preoccupied with the fantasies she evoked in each
boy's hopeful imagination. The fall night air delivered a sudden chill,
again ignored by the excited teenagers.

Spike strolled to the middle of the group, then led my wife to the far
end of the pool. He spoke quietly to her for a minute, then returned to
a nearby chair to watch. After a long look at the leering boys, she
slowly lowered the tiny yellow thong over her trim legs, stepping out
of it as it fell onto the cool tile. They gasped, speechless for the
first time tonight as they stared at her wet, swollen vagina, slick
and pink, ripples of light flashing over her from the water below.

Carefully, she eased herself over the edge onto the inflated raft
floating below her. Stretching her excited body over the length of it,
she paddled to the center of the pool, hands and arms dipping into the
warm liquid.

The surface of the pool glowed from submerged lights burning under the
heated water. The bobbing raft was transparent, displaying her as
though suspended on an undulating plane, six feet above the pool
bottom. A smoky mist rose around her as the warm water met the cold
night air, capturing the rippling luminescence, isolating it from the
surrounding darkness.

Eyes closed, head arched backward, she placed both hands between her
parted thighs. Opening herself to their hungry gaze, she spread her
flowing liquids over the fleshy folds, fingers rolling and stroking the
sensitive lips and hood. She began to pant, short little cries and
moans escaping her, causing small clouds of breath to condense in the
crisp air above her.

Unexpectedly sobered by the fantastic scene before them, they watched
in stunned silence, with only an occasional "Jesus!" or "My God!"
drifting quietly into the night air.

Frantic fingers finally coaxed the orgasm from her, hips rising and
thrusting, head rolling from side to side as her wanton moans blended
with the music, its slowing rhythms matching her gasping recovery.

Spike stood, smiling proudly, more than satisfied with her performance.
He watched the stunned boys as they gaped at the sleek, breathless
vision floating before them.
"I believe she wants some company, guys," he called, waiting for them
to respond.

Glancing at each other for just seconds, they stripped off the dripping
trunks and entered the pool, quickly surrounding her, pulling the raft
to the shallow end. She rolled off the raft as they overturned it,
finding herself suspended by five pairs of exploring hands.

I stood by helplessly as they held her, their stiff, bobbing cocks just
visible under inches of the clear water. Each of her hands found
smooth, hard torsos to her left and right, enjoying the response she
brought to them as she ran her eager fingers over their lean chests and
abdominals.

Eric eased past her submerged legs and entered the open space between
them. Her hands disappeared below the water, reaching for his erection,
pulling him closer to her glowing, pink slit. He began to thrust
instinctively as she rubbed him against her pouting labia, trying to
find her flowing entrance. Once found, he filled her at once, plunging
into her with adolescent abandon. She tried to draw him nearer, to run
her hands over his young body, to see the lust in his eyes as he fucked
her, but he resisted, standing between her straining thighs, ramming
her repeatedly, possessed by the urgent need that now controlled him.

He came very quickly, the muscles of his arched back tensing as he
released the hot semen deep inside her. Far from being satisfied, she
pleaded with him as he pressed against her.
"Please, no, not now, not yet!"

The others laughed as Eric pulled away from her, grinning from ear to
ear. A second boy took his place at once, now eager to hear her beg him
for more as he worked the head of his penis inside her. She moaned
softly as he pumped his rigid young cock into her, splashing small
waves of water onto her belly and breasts. He also orgasmed in minutes,
throwing his head back and howling like a wolf in heat as his strong
hands dug into the hard flesh of her upper thighs. Again disappointed,
she cried, "Oh God, no!" as his cock fell from her burning pussy.

Each of the others waded between her spread legs, always masturbating
into her, never satisfying the drug-induced lust that continued to
torture her. Tiny, white snakes of semen rose to the surface of the
water, dancing and twisting in the currents that flowed past her still-
hungry body.

I shook with rage and disgust as my wife begged them for more. She
promised them everything from blowjobs to anal sex, clutching at them
as they left the pool, humiliated as they joked and laughed at her.

Tired and very drunk, they gathered their belongings, stopping to thank
Spike on their way out. As they left, everyone turned to take one last
look at my wife. She stood at the edge of the pool, staring at them.
Her wet, naked body was silhouetted against the blue glow from the
lighted pool behind her. The swollen features of her genitals were
visible in the small space between her slim thighs. Tiny, sparkling
droplets of water clung to her skin as she panted, incredulous,
watching them wave goodbye.

Spike showed the boys to the door, then returned to the pool, looking
slowly up and down her wet, trembling body. Extending a bony hand, he
covered her crotch, slipping two fingers inside her. Her eyes closed
at once, moaning softly as she anticipated any relief he could offer.
She opened her eyes suddenly, surprised as he began to lead her to the
house using the two fingers, now digging into the engorged wall of her
vagina. Looking back at me with his sickening grin, he motioned for me
to follow them.

Once inside, he towed her to the bedroom. I followed them, stopping
just inside the open door. "Get on the bed, bitch," he ordered. She
climbed onto the king-sized bed, displaying her swollen genitals as she
crawled to the center. "On your back!" he spat. She rolled onto her
back, eyes tearing with uncertainty as his instructions hit her like
hammer blows.

"Tie her," he ordered, shoving two lengths of cord at me as I watched
from the door. I took the rope, using it to tie each of her delicate
wrists to the heavy posts at the head of the bed.

Spike now loomed over her at the foot of the bed, taking in her bound,
raging body. "Do you wanna get fucked?" he demanded. She studied him
nervously, pausing for a dangerously long time before giving him her
answer. "DO YOU WANNA GET FUCKED, YOU LITTLE SLUT?" he shrieked.
"Yes, please," she answered quickly, terrified at his building rage.
"Yeah, I thought so. Well, wifey, since those five guys couldn't
satisfy ya, I thought I'd let some of MY friends have a shot at ya."

I saw her face freeze, horror replacing apprehension, as she looked
past him at the wavering surface of the large mirror. He stepped aside
just as the creature burst from the silvery surface, making its way to
the foot of the bed. The all too familiar red eyes were fixed on her,
paralyzing her with its gaze. The misshapen mass of oozing flesh and
appendages snorted and grunted as it studied its victim, the huge,
pulsing phallus leaking vile fluids from the gaping opening in the
bulbous head.

Her terrified screams began at once as the monster climbed onto the bed
and worked its way between her thrashing legs. I looked on in horror as
the immense, gnarled organ disappeared inside her, the demon's bulk
pinning her helplessly to the bed. Her cries increased to a frightening
intensity as the abhorrent beast washed her face with its thick, sticky
tongue, dripping strings of yellow saliva into her open mouth.

A second creature penetrated the mirror's surface and stood by the bed,
waiting to taste her warm flesh. Turning to study me with glowing eyes,
it reached for me with a scaly, clawed hand. Panic-stricken, I backed
away quickly, just as a third monster squeezed through the portal.

Inching away from the creature's advances, I stumbled and fell
backwards through the open bedroom door. I crashed to the floor just
before the door slammed shut, my wife's shrieks continuing as a growing
number of creatures filled the dark room to foul her helpless body.

Her screams continued throughout the night. I waited, trembling, in the
guestroom for the hoard of fiends to finish, then to come for me,
perhaps ending this nightmare, once and for all.







                             - Part XVII -


I returned to our bedroom door soon after hearing my wife's
screams slowly fade. As I neared the closed door, I found her shrieks
had become quiet sobs, her continuous crying just audible over the
creatures' disgusting grunting and growling.

Collapsing onto the floor against a nearby wall, I was assaulted
by the relentless sounds of her torture for the rest of the night. I
fought unimaginable levels of helplessness and rage as my mind was
filled with images of what must be taking place in our room.

As dawn approached, I was wrenched from a light sleep by my wife's
sudden, horrifying scream. It pierced the quiet morning, jolting me to
my feet, as it continued to echo through the house. Then, as suddenly
as it had begun, it stopped, replaced with a dead, eerie silence.

I ran to the door, watching in disbelief as it slowly opened ahead of
me. The hinges groaned a sinister invitation as it slowed to a stop.
Entering the dim, stale smelling room, I was shocked to find it
completely deserted. The furniture was not just overturned, it was
slashed, gouged, and broken into pieces. The carpet and bedding were
sopping wet, the smell of sweat and semen wafting by me as I surveyed
the damage. The only object left intact was the large mirror, rising
grotesquely from the piles of rubble.

A week passed, then two. My wife had vanished without a trace, taken by
the demons to a place I remembered all too well. I had tried to smash
the full-length mirror, but each time I entered our bedroom, the smooth
surface began to distort and ripple, many pairs of glowing eyes warning
me from the other side. I was resigned to the despair I felt, living
from day to day, helpless and defeated.

Two months later, I received the first email.

---------------------------------------------------

     Friend,

     We can help. Look for your wife in the Grotto.

---------------------------------------------------

The header included a cryptic address, containing symbols unlike any I
had ever seen. Was this a trap set by Spike or one of the other demons?
Was it possible that someone, somewhere, knew of the creatures, that
they walked among us, using us as they wished? I had to find out.

The Grotto was not the pleasant sounding place its name implied.
Located on the west side of town near an abandoned industrial site, it
had become a collection of biker bars, pawn shops, and adult book
stores. It was an area frequented by drug dealers, prostitutes, and all
varieties of the most unsavory characters the city had to offer.

Arriving thirty minutes later, I cruised the main drag, looking for
some clue to my wife's whereabouts. It was a Saturday night, and the
streets were crowded with hookers and their prospective clients. A
small group of "ladies of the evening" strutted and posed in their
scanty outfits as they hovered near a gathering of leather-clad thugs.
The largest of the group climbed off his bike and took one of the women
by the hand, leading her to the closest alley.

As my headlights flashed across them, I was stunned to see my wife's
face, almost unrecognizable under the heavy makeup. She strolled
willingly beside him, headed for the dark alley. The black, leather
halter barely concealed her breasts, pushing them up and over the front
of the skin-tight top. A long expanse of bare waist led to a tiny,
black, leather skirt, just covering the bottom of her firm ass. Her
hips swayed as she skillfully maneuvered on the four-inch heels. The
once long and luxurious black hair was now cropped short and slicked
back over her head, exaggerating the bright blue eyeshadow and red
lipstick.

Shaken at the sight of what she had become, I continued down the
street, pulling over a few blocks away. I circled the block on foot,
entering the alley from the opposite end. Halfway into the alley, I saw
them. She was bent at the waist, holding the dumpster for support. The
tiny skirt was pulled up, exposing her to him as he pumped his huge
cock into her. The biker towered over her as he worked, arching her
head backwards as he grasped her by the hair. Each of his savage
thrusts jolted her compact body, crushing her large breasts against the
side of the rusty container.

Her eyes were closed, her face expressionless, showing neither
excitement nor disgust, as she allowed him to use her cunt for as long
as he wished. Then, with a loud grunt, he came, spewing his cum into
her as he rode her like a mindless animal.

When he finished, he shoved her to the ground, throwing a fistful
of bills at her before returning to his gang. She just sat there,
breathing hard, staring at the far wall of the alley. Finally, she
collected the money, crawling to recover it on her hands and knees. I
watched her from behind as the tiny skirt remained gathered around her
waist. Her gaping labia were slick with the biker's semen, thick globs
dripping from the reddened slit as she scrambled for the scattered
bills.

As I walked toward her, she turned, crawling in my direction to snag
the last bill. She looked up from the pavement, surprised to see
someone standing so close. Slowly raising her head to look into my
eyes, she stared at me, her face showing the horror and humiliation of
her new life. The meager halter failed to contain her breasts, which
now spilled out over the top, both dark nipples pointing toward the
damp cement beneath her.

"Oh,...nooo!" she sobbed, still looking up from below me. "H-how did
you f-find me?" she asked, now crying openly. I reached down, pulling
her up into my arms, allowing her to cry harder as I tried to comfort
her. We stood in the dark alley, holding each other, each of us
struggling with the onslaught of emotions that suddenly overwhelmed us.

"We're going home now," I promised.
"No...you don't understand...I can't," she sobbed.
"Why not?"
"They're watching me. They did horrible things to me. I just can't go
through that again! They make me give them the money I earn. They
said my torture would be worse if I didn't cooperate. Please, we
can't stay here; they'll see us. I have a room. We can go there."

I followed her out of the alley, fighting the rage from yet another
humiliating situation brought about by the disgusting creatures. The
bikers whistled and fondled her as we passed, assuming I was one of her
customers. She pushed their hands away halfheartedly, smiling coyly as
she led me into a nearby stairway. Climbing the steep stairs to the
third floor, she produced a key from her small, leather purse and
opened one of the doors lining the narrow hall, leading me inside.

The room was small, sparsely furnished, and smelled like dirty laundry.
Peeling wallpaper provided a depressing backdrop behind the simple
table and chair and the single unmade bed in the opposite corner. A
small clothes rack hung from the wall, containing a row of outfits so
revealing that at first glance, it was difficult to tell how they
should be worn.

She lowered herself carefully to the bed, sighing as she dangled her
bare legs over the side. I winced as I noticed the biker's cum still
leaking from her, the tiny skirt unable to hide her reddened slit as
she sat facing me.

"So, how did you know I was here," she asked. "I really can't-or, um,
shouldn't tell you that now," I answered, believing she was safer not
knowing. "Just get in the car and come home," I demanded.

"I told you, I can't. They're watching you too. They see every move we
make. Oh, God! What are we going to do?"
She began to cry again, the tears melting her makeup into a pitiful
mask of blue and black streaks.

Suddenly, we heard the doorknob rattle, then the furious pounding from
the other side of the door.

"I told ya to keep the fuckin' door unlocked, bitch!"

Horrified, she jumped to her feet, shaking as she stared at the door.
"Oh, God...it's Spike! Hurry, hide in there," she whispered, pointing
to the bathroom door. I bolted across the room, closing the door behind
me just as she let Spike in.

I watched through a small crack in the rickety door as he circled her,
inspecting his investment.

"So, you're cryin' again, huh? Won't you ever learn? Jesus, you're
harder to train than my fuckin' dog! OK, let's go over this one more
time. If you don't start showin' me that you like your new life, we'll
take a little trip back to "my place" for some extra training."

"Now, what are you?"
"I'm your whore, Spike."
"Good. Do you like being my whore?"
"Yes, Spike."
"OK. Who do ya love, baby?"
Her hands went to his belly, sliding up under the t-shirt to his
scrawny chest as she answered.
"I love you, Spike."
"Show me!"

Shaking with rage, I watched her kneel in front of him, pulling the
punk's jeans to the floor. She closed her mouth around his thin, white
cock, capturing it as it bobbed inches from her tear-streaked face. As
he buried inch after inch of it into her throat, she raised both hands
to his pale, hairless scrotum, gently teasing his balls with her gentle
fingers. She licked and sucked hungrily on the purple, rubbery head,
leaving thick strings of saliva when she paused briefly to catch her
breath.

Soon, he began to thrust harder, stomach tensing, as the demon spurted
the vile contents of his body into her. She closed her mouth tightly
around him, not allowing a drop to escape as she pumped the thin, hard
shaft with both hands. Swallowing desperately, she milked every drop
from him, knowing that his disappointment would bring unbearable
torture.

He watched her lick and suck his shrinking erection, knowing she would
not stop until he gave his permission. "Alright, alright, that's
enough," he said, grinning with satisfaction. Turning away from her, he
hiked the torn jeans to his waist, now looking through the only window
onto the busy street below.

"Strip," he ordered, his attention still focused on the passing
riffraff as they prowled the sidewalks beneath him. Visibly shaken, she
rose slowly to her feet, hesitating just a little too long.

Turning to watch her, Spike exploded. "I said, get your fuckin' clothes
off, bitch! We've got work to do! NOW!"

Deliberately, mechanically, she shrugged the leather halter from her
shoulders, then peeled the tiny skirt over her hips, letting it fall to
the floor. She stood before him, naked and dazed, wearing only the
black heels, afraid to imagine what he had in mind.

He strolled to the rack of outfits on the far wall, removing a
particularly tiny item from its hanger. Returning to her, he fastened
the narrow leather collar around her neck, then attached the six-foot
leash to it, tugging several times to test its strength.

"Let's go," he ordered, as he led her by the leash, disappearing
through the door into the hallway beyond. After several minutes, I
opened the door, hurrying across the dreary room to the window. Shaking
with anger and disgust, tears clouding my eyes, I watched him parade
her, naked, into the street.

Whistles and cheers rose in a sudden chorus as the bikers spotted them,
the outrageous display quickly drawing a small crowd. As a sea of
leather surrounded them, an imposing figure drifted from the growing
circle of bystanders to where Spike offered her to the highest bidder.
She sauntered boldly to face my wife, stopping two feet in front of
her. Well over six feet tall, she smiled cruelly at my wife, eyes
roving over her firm, naked body. 

Her resemblance to my wife was uncanny. Except for her towering height,
the hard, slim physique and black, cropped hair made them a perverse
match, silencing the circle of anxious spectators.

I continued to watch from the window as Spike spoke to my wife while
removing her leash, grinning excitedly at the stunning, statuesque
beauty. My wife went to her knees, reaching for the zipper at the side
of the lesbian's skin-tight pants. Then, with a few firm tugs, she
peeled the soft leather down over her long, muscular legs, pulling it
over both six-inch heels.

Kneeling before her, she placed a hand on each sculptured thigh, then
slowly traced a path to her moist slit. Parting the meaty labia with
both hands, she leaned forward, burying her mouth in the slick valley
between her shaking fingers. Her mouth and throat pulsed rhythmically
as she worked her tongue along the wet, swollen inner lips, then
plunging into her warm depths, finally circling the hardened clit with
the tip. Her customer grasped her hair with both hands, guiding her
mouth, forcing her face against her sopping cunt, while my wife
struggled to please her.

The scene below was almost surreal; my wife worked feverishly between
the beautiful dom's legs while the street filled with an ever
increasing crowd of eager onlookers. Spike was in his glory as he
watched his new possession, now defeated, willingly perform the
ultimate act of submission, a public display of her obedience.

Eyes closed, full lips parted, the panting amazon soon shared her
orgasm with her audience as she gyrated wildly against my wife's
face, now soaked with her juices. The crowd's "oohs" and "ahhs" quickly
turned to outbursts of cheers and applause as they watched her cum,
using my wife's wet, aching face until the violent orgasm finally
subsided.

She backed away from my wife as she recovered the leather pants, then
returned to Spike, handing him the money, retrieved from the small
pocket. After planting a quick kiss on his pale cheek, she turned and
disappeared into the cheering crowd, proud of her performance.

Spike returned to my wife, still kneeling on the street, her face shiny
with the secretions of her latest customer. Reaching down, he fastened
the leash to her collar, then, with a sudden jerk, pulled her to her
feet. The crowd parted as she followed him, many of its members bidding
for the next chance to sample her, begging Spike for her submission to
their depraved fantasies.

He led her through the frenzied crowd, domination and profit buoying
him to new heights of satisfaction; he, the proverbial piper, she,
the intoxicating lure that attracted the vermin that followed them.







                             - Part XVIII -


I turned away from the grimy window, shaking and defeated, after
watching Spike lead my naked wife through the crowd below. He towed
her down the middle of the busy street, putting her on public display,
a fantasy come true for every degenerate in sight.

Anger and frustration overwhelmed me as I descended the narrow
stairway. I exited the building unnoticed, the bikers now distracted by
the show Spike provided several blocks away. Entering the adjacent
alley, I jogged to the next street, desperately needing to escape
the humiliation and helplessness of the situation. My pulse raced as I
ran, my mind preoccupied by what I had just witnessed. The alley seemed
endless, as though I had entered another reality. I drifted as if in
slow motion as I tried to force my legs to move faster and faster.

The shrill squeal of tires jolted me, stopping me in my tracks as the
silver Mercedes appeared suddenly in my path. I stood three feet from
the now motionless car, panting and gasping for breath. The heavily
tinted rear window descended just enough to reveal part of the
occupant's face, hidden behind large, tortoise-shell rimmed dark
glasses.

"Get in," she said, urgently. I hesitated, remembering the last time
I was ordered to take a ride in a large, black limousine. Immediately
understanding my reluctance, the shadowed face moved to within inches
of the half-open window, quickly uttering the familiar words.
"Friend, we can help."

The door opened slightly as I reached for the handle, inviting me
inside. The driver pulled away quickly as I settled into the leather
seat, the force of the sudden acceleration pressing on my heaving
chest.

She eyed me quietly as I caught my breath, waiting for me to recover.
Removing the dark glasses, she replaced them with an untinted pair,
revealing her striking green eyes. The impeccable auburn hair was
pulled back tightly, giving her a "bookish" appearance. An
expensive tweed jacket and white silk blouse beneath it said she was
all business, a woman who knew what she wanted and exactly how to get
it. My attention was drawn to the long expanse of smooth, white thigh
freely displayed from under the brief skirt.

Soon we had circled the block and were headed back toward the noisy
crowd that surrounded Spike and my wife. The driver slowed as we
passed, allowing us to see through a gap in the spectators.

She was spread-eagled on the hood of a large car. A disgustingly obese
biker stood between her legs, holding her slim hips in his vise-like
grip as his monstrous body pounded her repeatedly. Each time his hips
slammed into her, bulging rolls of fat covering his tattooed body
continued to shake and quiver. Spike sat propped against the
windshield, her head in his lap. Her face glistened as he smoothed a
thick coating of cum over it, stopping occasionally to allow her to
suck his fingers clean. Her hair was completely drenched with the
thick, white goo, deposited there by the mob of bikers, now satisfied
just to spew their cum onto her face as Spike spread it over her
trembling lips.

Body shaking, mind slipping over the edge of reason, I reached for the
door. A firm hand grasped my wrist, retrieving me from the potentially
fatal mistake. "Not now," she said, her strong but sympathetic eyes
holding me as the driver accelerated past the disgusting scene into the
night.

Releasing her grip, she adjusted her skirt as she crossed her legs,
revealing more distracting flesh.

"My name is Alyssa. I've been designated your primary contact. I'm
a member of a group working desperately to fight the creatures
that have taken control of you and your wife. We need your help, if
you're up to it."

I nodded my head at once, still trying to absorb her words as she
continued in her sober, business-like manner.

"My husband and I were also once slaves of these creatures, as were
many of our group's members. He was a physicist, responsible for most
of our understanding of the demons and their world. I was his
assistant."

"Was?" I asked, expecting the worst from her answer.

"They killed him. His death was long and painful. I was forced to watch
him bleed to death as they stripped the skin from his body."

"I'm sorry," I muttered, wondering how she could possibly have the
strength to continue her pursuit.

"I've vowed to eradicate these creatures from our world, to use his
discoveries so that his death was not meaningless. I'll send them back
to hell, or die trying."

"What can I do?" I asked, the words "die trying" still ringing in my
ears.

"We've learned to control the portals they use to enter and leave our
world. We'll return later tonight - with a little surprise for Spike."

We drove into the city, finally stopping at a bustling Italian
restaurant with chairs and tables arranged under a bright green awning
over an open patio. We talked over heaping plates of pasta. I asked
endless questions; she answered them in a straightforward, emotionless
way, careful, I realized, to use terms I could easily understand.

"These creatures exist in a reality that is very different from ours.
Do you know anything about quantum mechanics?" she asked, her eyes
searching for a connection.

"Ah, no, not much," I answered, vaguely recalling the phrase from my
college chemistry.

"Wave-particle duality?" she continued.

"Um, kind of," I lied.

"Light behaves as either a wave or a particle, depending on the
experiment used to observe it. To our common sense, it can't exist in
both forms, but it does. This suggests that light is something so
different from our everyday reality that we can't yet comprehend
exactly what it is. They fall into the same category. It doesn't
matter whether you call their home 'hell' or another dimension. What
does matter is that my husband found a bridge from our world to theirs,
and that we can use it against them."

She continued to elaborate on the discoveries of her late husband,
often losing me as she attempted to keep the complexities of their work
from sounding like alchemy. I grew to admire her intelligence and
resolve, trying to imagine the loss she must have suffered, having
shared such a common bond with him. Her eyes seemed to give me
strength as she peered through the large glasses, her empathy
comforting me, preparing me for the still unknown tasks ahead of us
later that night.

The Mercedes sliced smoothly through the night as we returned to the
Grotto. During the long drive back, Alyssa explained her plan and what
was required of me. Slowing to a stop, the driver pulled to the curb
just a few doors away from my wife's building.

The street was nearly deserted as we entered the decaying structure and
climbed the stairs to my wife's room. Alyssa carefully inched the door
open and peered inside. Glancing back at me and nodding, she opened the
door and entered the room, motioning for me to follow.

She was asleep on the bed, her naked body showing the consequences of
the bikers' abuse. Strands of matted hair were glued to her face, the
remnants of dried semen clinging to her eyelashes and lips. Dark
bruises were beginning to appear on the insides of her thighs and
over her hips and stomach, painful reminders of the crowd's endless
violation of her helpless body.

Alyssa walked quickly to the bed, reaching out to place a hand on her
bare shoulder. My wife's eyes opened slowly, looking up at her; then,
rolling onto her back, she spread her legs, waiting for her newest
customer to take her turn.

Alyssa smiled at her, shaking her head as she helped her to her feet.
My wife's confusion turned to relief as she saw me arrive beside her,
tears streaming down her cheeks as she collapsed into my waiting arms.

We explained Alyssa's plan as she dressed, her face reflecting pure
terror as we unveiled the steps necessary to rid her of Spike's
cruelty. She knew our failure would result in her return to Spike's
world, where she would be tortured by demons whose brutality exceeded
her present suffering tenfold. Alyssa tried to reassure her, but her
attempts made little difference as my wife reluctantly followed us out
of the dismal room.

We descended the stairs to the ground floor, then down a darker flight
of stairs to the basement. Alyssa led us through several brick archways
to a small room containing the laboring furnace, rumbling and leaking
steam as it struggled to provide the aging building with a supply of
heat and hot water.

To the side of the roaring beast, fixed to the stone foundation, was a
large mirror, reflecting our images back at us as we stared into the
potential doorway to the creatures' abode.

Alyssa walked directly to the mirror, expertly connecting several clips
to the top and bottom edges, then attaching thin wires from the clips
to the small box she had placed nearby. She returned to me, handing me
the remote unit. Gazing at me intensely with her penetrating green
eyes, she replied, "Let's do it!"

I ushered my wife behind the furnace, where we watched through the maze
of twisting pipes rising from the hissing boiler.

Alyssa stood before the mirror, watching her reflection from a
dangerously short distance. She removed the jacket, then, slowly, began
to unbutton the silk blouse, finally discarding it on the floor beneath
her. Her white, rounded breasts hung invitingly, the large dark nipples
a stark contrast to the ivory flesh as we gaped at her reflection.
Quickly removing the short skirt and lace panties, she stood naked
before the now rippling surface of the full-length mirror. Both
delicate arms rose behind her head as her fingers worked to free the
tight knot of thick hair, allowing it to cascade about the soft
skin of her naked shoulders.

Shaking the mane of auburn hair free, she brought both hands to the
long slit between her parted thighs, slowly separating the outer labia
to present the wet, pink folds of her vulva to glowing eyes on the
opposite side of the mirror. A single finger from her right hand
entered the wet center, then moved slowly along the hooded clitoris,
causing it to swell and glisten as waves of liquid flowed from within
her. Her neck arched gracefully backward as a low "Ummmm" escaped her
supple throat. Her slim body swayed as her hips rocked to meet her
probing fingers, causing my cock to stir and thicken as I watched
beside my trembling wife.

Suddenly a pair of bony hands extended through the wavering surface of
the mirror, reaching for her inviting body as she writhed in self-
induced heat. Slowly, arms, shoulders, head, and torso passed through
the portal's shimmering plane. Spike pushed through his familiar entry
to our world, fascinated by this exquisite new prey, offering her
willing body as she masturbated for him.

Alyssa's eyes met mine just as she shouted, "Now!" I hit the remote
switch just as Spike was halfway through the portal. The flowing
surface pulsed once, then settled back to a solid, flat pane of glass,
trapping the monster between our world and his. He screamed in agony as
his body was severed, green liquid spewing over the mirror's surface.

"Nooo! Mother, please, help me! Aghhhh..."
His screams stopped suddenly as the visible portion of his body dropped
from the mirror to the floor, a puddle of thick, green slime flowing
from the gaping wound.

My wife began to cry hysterically as she approached his limp body
from behind the furnace. The horror was nearly unbearable as she
realized the creature that had sold her to an endless parade of abusive
customers was the same alien infant she had given birth to in the
monster's lair.

Alyssa ran to the mirror, then looked back at me, pointing at the
control in my shaking hand. "Open it, hurry!" she shouted. Quickly
flipping the switch in the opposite direction, I watched the
mirror shift and waver as the portal again opened.

She thrust her head and shoulders through the surface, then, lean white
muscles straining, she pulled the lower half of the demon's body back
through the mirror, allowing it to fall to floor with a dull thud.

She shook the green slime from her hands and arms, noticing our
surprised expressions.
"We can't leave body parts behind - they attract the creatures to the
portal, then lead them here, to us."

She stood facing us, back to the mirror, her slim, naked body
surrounded by the oozing fragments of her latest conquest. She seemed
oblivious to her striking nakedness, reveling in the satisfaction of
her gruesome kill.

My eyes widened in horror as I saw the huge figure squeeze through the
open portal behind her. I activated the control again, hoping to repeat
the plan that had left Spike a neatly severed corpse.

I was too late! The immense monster loomed before us, now even larger
and more sinister than when he last ejected us from his domain in a
furious rage.

Alyssa saw the fear that now paralyzed us, then turned slowly, looking
into the glowing red eyes of the giant demon.

Surveying the carnage before him, his gaze traveled from Alyssa to me,
then finally to my wife. Smiling slightly, he eyed her from head to
foot, amused by the outrageously revealing outfit from Spike's
collection.

"Come here, my dear," he ordered.

My wife hesitated, shaking violently as she stood beside me. The red in
his eyes intensified, causing her to gasp as he invaded her.
Surrendering to him, she paced across the room, stopping so close to
him that her breasts brushed his bulging chest with every deep breath.

Sensing her terror, he replied, "Ahh, you expect retaliation for your
part in the senseless destruction of your son. Life comes very cheaply
to us, my dear. Many others have grown to take this one's place in the
short time since his birth." Now grinning widely, he continued.
"Judging by your appearance, he has served us well!"

"Strip for me. I've always enjoyed watching your body respond as it
swells and drips with desire for me. I'm sure you've missed my special
talents."

She discarded the scraps of clothing, now standing inches from the
monster, totally naked and under his control. Raising both hands to her
nipples, he chuckled as he pulled and twisted them, hearing the low
moan escape her trembling throat.

"Yes, I knew you would be easy."

His huge hands traveled over her shoulders and neck, finally grasping
her head in his powerful grip. Pulling her mouth to his, he kissed her
brutally, mauling her lips and tongue as he held her helpless body. We
watched her shudder several times, then saw her hands enter his heavy
robe, finally caressing his meaty cock with greedy fingers.

She fell to her knees as he released her, fingers still dancing over
his rigid penis, now coaxed from the opening of his parted robe.

Turning his attention to Alyssa, his evil grin widened as he
recognized her face, then her body, as she stood defiantly before him.

"Before I kill you, show us one last time how you used to cum for me."
Her body spasmed, face wincing as he invaded her mind with his unheard
words.

She began to breathe deeply, thrusting her small, firm breasts forward,
hardening nipples rising from the smooth white globes. Her long, narrow
slit opened immediately, revealing wet, pulsing folds of flesh, now
dripping freely as she fought the lust he created.

Her entire body shook with uncontrollable desire, swaying breasts
quivering as her thighs glistened with juices that flowed from the
gaping hole between her legs.

"God damn you," she uttered, just seconds before the massive orgasm
descended on her. A long moan escaped her as her body twisted and
jerked helplessly, cumming and surrendering to his will. The monster
watched with satisfaction until she collapsed to her knees, exhausted
from the crushing spasms.

As she struggled to recover, his grin evaporated, replaced with a
somber stare.
"I should have destroyed you when I took your husband," he toned
menacingly through clenched teeth.

"Did you know that I keep his skull in my collection, as a trophy?"

"Fuck you!" she spat, glaring at him with unbridled loathing.

"Fuck that," he replied, his anger rising. Thin red beams of light
jumped from his eyes to hers, causing her to cry out as the pain
stabbed at her. She turned suddenly toward the furnace. The lean
muscles of her thighs and calves hardened as she fought his hold over
her. Haltingly, step after step, she approached the steam-filled stub
of pipe that jutted from the scalding boiler.

Now inches from the blistering surface, she released a frightening
"Noooo!" as he commanded her to take the sizzling phallus inside her.
She screamed in agony as he forced her closer, the sensitive tissues of
her exposed genitals inflamed from the scorching heat.

Without warning, the large mirror began to vibrate, threatening to
shake itself loose from the stone foundation. For the first time, I saw
fear in his eyes as he glanced first at the mirror, then back at
Alyssa.

"What have you done?" he roared, as he began to lose his control over
her.

She turned to face him, returning a look of hatred and satisfaction
that, for an instant, froze the beast where he stood.

He turned and ran toward the mirror as its surface softened and flowed.
Dragging my wife by the neck, he leaped into the portal, pulling her
through it after him to the safety of his own world.

Seconds later, a blinding, blue-white glow burst from the mirror,
causing my eyes to ache as I shielded them with both hands. I heard
Alyssa's cry as her body collided with mine, landing on top of me
against the far wall. Immediately the mirror exploded, sending a shower
of glass across the room. Razor sharp fragments rained down on us as we
lay against the wall, keeping our backs to the deadly storm.

I raised my head slowly as the last of the knifelike shards fell
around us, sounding oddly like the music of many wind chimes caught in
a sudden breeze. The weight of Alyssa's body pressed against me as I
looked cautiously about the room, echoes of the falling glass still
ringing in my ears. Her head lay motionless on my chest as scores of
tiny cuts over her lean back and buttocks oozed trickles of blood into
the curves and valleys of her ivory body.

Just as I was about to wake her, she was suddenly looking at me, those
determined emerald eyes causing my slowing pulse to quicken slightly.

"You OK?" she asked. "I think so," I croaked, trying to put aside the
effect her self-assured beauty was having on me. Her lips formed a warm
smile that tried to melt away any restraint that I had tried to muster.

She lifted her weight off me, standing, then helping me to my feet. I
saw her wince as the fire from the many cuts over her back found her,
now overcoming the adrenaline rush that had numbed the biting wounds.

"Did you...do that?" I asked.

"Well, not alone. Thirty minutes ago, over a hundred members of our
group each opened a portal and placed a device developed by my husband
on the other side. I placed mine when I recovered the remains of
Spike's body."

"I didn't notice," I replied.

"You, or anyone else, weren't supposed to. The devices 'tunnel' energy
from our reality to theirs, releasing it in a synchronized burst. It's
not quite like combining matter and antimatter, but the chain
reaction is thought to cause massive damage on the other side."

"My wife...is she..."

"I'm very sorry. We're not sure if the creatures really 'die', or just
retreat to a reality we don't yet understand; but a human wouldn't have
had a chance on the other side of the portal. She was an unexpected
variable; I had no idea he would take her back."

Without warning, the pain and anger engulfed me, crushing me as I began
to cry. They had finally won. My wife had been tortured and humiliated
for months, then was taken from me just as we found new hope for our
future together. Now she was gone, taken by the monster in one last
cruel attempt at revenge.

I felt Alyssa's arms around me as I stood there in shock and despair,
then felt her gentle sobs as her tears wetted my shirt. Were her tears
for her murdered husband, my lost wife, or sympathy for me? Maybe there
wasn't just one reason why either of us cried. Maybe we cried for
everyone. Maybe it was just the pain.

We parted company soon after leaving the Grotto. Riding together in
her car, we watched silently as the yawning door of the dilapidated
building shrank, eventually fading from sight. We sat quietly during
the ride to my home, neither of us speaking a word, our thoughts
occupied with the awful past and our uncertain futures.

As the car finally pulled to a stop in front of my house, I glanced at
her tear-streaked face, then, looking away, mumbled, "I, um, ah, ..."
I felt her hand land gently on my arm, stopping me in mid stammer.

"I'm sorry about your wife. If I could have done anything to save her,
I would have. Try to put this behind you. It won't be easy, but you can
do it. I did. I must go now."

Smiling with great effort, she squeezed my arm firmly, then released
me as the door opened.

"Have a good life," she offered warmly, as she placed the large dark
glasses over her reddened eyes.

I climbed from the car, then turned back, looking into a face that now
appeared as it did the first time we met, half hidden behind the smoky
lenses.

"Will they be back?" I asked.

She looked at me for a long time before answering.

"We'll watch and wait. Time will tell."

She reached for the door, closing it with a soft thud, leaving me
staring at the tinted window. As the car pulled from the curb, the
window lowered a few inches, allowing a narrow shaft of daylight into
the dark interior. She looked back as the car picked up speed, the dark
lenses hiding pools of tears rising in those unforgettable green eyes.







                              - Epilogue -


I've struggled to put the past events behind me as Alyssa suggested. As
the weeks and months drag on, the pain is slowly beginning to fade,
although I'm sure the effect the past has had on me will be long-
lasting. Looking into any mirror fills me with gnawing anxiety, and I
will always search for a slight gleam of red in the eyes of anyone I
meet.

I reported my wife as "missing" soon after the incident. The
authorities asked all the typical questions; I answered in half-truths
and lies, knowing the real story would probably put me in prison or a
mental hospital. After a week or two, they stopped asking, telling me
they would keep the case open, but "not to hold my breath". I didn't.

Three months later I would open my door to find those pleading, green
eyes looking back at me as the late afternoon sun spread a brilliant
halo about her glistening hair.

"Can I come in? Can we talk?" Alyssa asked.

The ambivalence I felt at the first sight of her was unnerving. The
excitement of her warm smile brought with it a flood of memories I had
only just started to forget. We spent the day talking, finally making
plans to see each other again.

We became close friends, then, after a long time, devoted lovers.

As I hover over her tonight, she reaches up to me, chasing away bits of
the past that still leak through the walls I've built against it.
Adjusting her long body under mine, she raises her narrow hips to meet
me, welcoming the last inch of my erection inside. Her hands move over
my shoulders and chest, skilled fingers dancing, electrified, over the
surface of my skin. Withdrawing slowly, I pause, then begin to fill her
again at the same even pace, hearing her quiet moan when I'm again
tight against her. Those maddening fingers trail over my stomach,
continuing down, entering the small space between us when I again pull
away. Lightly, delicately, she caresses my tightening sac, returning
me inside her as she tugs at me.

I'm lost in the pleasure she gives me, taken to another place as my
orgasm beckons. A slight twinge in my groin startles me, then a long
steady ache from my scrotum shakes me from my impending release.

Blinding pain suddenly engulfs me. I look for the source in confusion,
finding her grinning face staring up at me with red glowing eyes. Now
panic-stricken, I claw at the sheets, trying to escape the demon as it
clutches me tightly, its deep laughter pouring from her exquisite
mouth.

I break free, landing on my back; now paralyzed, I'm unable to escape.
I begin to scream as it approaches me, now closing in on its helpless
prey.

Opening my eyes one last time, I hear the echoes of my own terror
hanging in the air about me. Soft hands cradle me, and a gentle
"Shhh" floats down from Alyssa's worried face, waking me from the
hideous dream, a nightmare that will be a part of us for the rest
of our lives.



THE END