Other hands gently part your thighs as you yourself are joined by a man whom you don't recognize. On his knees before you, he draws his fingers across your inner thighs. His lean body invites your eyes downward, from his broad chest to his well-proportioned uncut cock. Though he strikes you as "generic hunk," you won't complain until you sample his technique.
He wastes no time - bending immediately to part your labia with his tongue. You feel his hot breath upon your damp flesh. His fingers continue their dance on your inner thighs as his whole mouth - tongue, lips, and teeth - attend to the pleasures of your clit. Occasionally, he plunges his tongue (his unusually long tongue, you discover) into your pussy to savor your fresh nectar. With no small effort, you place your hands on either side of his head, encouraging him to delve deeper. You rotate your hips in small circles, grinding yourself against his face, as your breathing becomes more labored. He points his tongue at the underside of your clit, laps gently at it, then flicks, and your thighs snap tightly around his head, then release. He repeats this on and off, alternating with attention to both your outer and inner labia, until you begin to tremble the moment you feel his tongue on your clit.
His finger probes your ass, gathering your flowing moisture, and slipping softly in, stopping for a massage of the outer ring with just his fingertip, then as you relax, gliding in to the next knuckle, then another pause with gentle swirling motions, then the final plunge to the base of the finger. With each knuckle, you feel the disorienting downward plunge of white water rafting – slow and calm, then a rush of sensation. He continues to tongue you and at this point, you would swear that his tongue is several places at once. The sounds of passion coming from the other couples grow louder and more ragged. The threesome on your left is making the most noise, the two men grunting in time to their thrusts, and the woman emitting a slowly escalating whimpering moan, the waves of her passion splashing up then receding, each time going a bit higher with each thrust from the partner in her pussy.
By now, the woman to the right, gasping throatily under her own passion has let her hand drift downward toward your trimmed outcropping. Her hand rests lightly between your clit and your navel, sheltering the place, and holding the passion inside. Now and then, it awakens and rubs lightly, then returns to stillness.
Your skin begins to flush – you feel your muscles tensing and relaxing all at once, your ass clenching down on your partner's fingers, milking ripples inside your unoccupied pussy. Your orgasm is approaching – with every suck and nip now, you shudder a bit, surging along with the heightening moans of those around you. Your splayed legs drop and lay slack then pop up again, fighting strong gravity as they seek to draw your eater deep within you.
Without warning, your partner flies backward, throwing out his arms as he is wrenched around, spiraling into the darkness. "Enough!" announces Weisshart, "Now is the time." and he appears in front of you, between your legs. You stare straight at him, a twisted grin on his face; his hands, his cold, cold hands gripping your sides securely. Your eyes travel further down, and come to a halt, beholding the most enormous, engorged red cock you could possibly imagine. It grazes your inner thigh, and chills you to the bone – you try to back away on the table, but you still have no strength in your limbs, and his cold, iron grip holds you fast. "Now is the time," he repeats, glistening black eyes fixed on you, "Soon, she won't be able to touch you again."
Sheer terror keeps you from crying out; whatever holds you to the table keeps you from struggling. His cold beast of a cock hangs down and half-lays upon your stomach as he hefts your body closer. As he takes cock in hand, doubtless to begin insertion, he too is thrown back, this time by a streak that appears from behind your head and sails over your body – crashing into him and dragging him to the floor. In their tumbling through the half light at the edge of the lamps, you can barely make out waving red hair. In a surge of panicked hope, you imagine it to be Cassandra, but have no idea any longer of who is saving you from whom.
Lamps are extinguished, pots shattered, oil splashed everywhere as the two tumble back and fort trough the shadows. The scene is made more bizarre by the fucking taking place in the shadow of the violence. The couple to your right, however, begin making sidelong glances that direction and finally, when both look over simultaneously, fade into nothingness. You assume they are real, and were finally disturbed from their dream enough to waken. Cassandra seems to be taking the upper hand, pouncing on the figure of Weisshart now in slow retreat, though you still notice him eying you as he maneuvers around the room. Cassandra keeps herself between Weisshart and you, slashing at him with her fingers, now grown long and wiry, topped with long nails that glisten even in the soft lamplight. Weisshart makes a sudden lunge to his left and Cassandra lashes out, off balance. Weisshart sees his opening and throws his shoulder against her, sending her sprawling against a column. As she crumples there in a daze, he sees his opportunity and sprints toward you, grasping hand outstretched. You watch in numbed horror as this wraith-like winged creature rises up behind him, closing the distance in an instant. Streaks of blood spatter you as the creature's talons shoot through him just above his shoulder blades. As he falters, you finally feel the heavy blanket that held you to the table lifted. At the same time, the threesome to your left flickers and disappears, leaving nothing behind.
The wraith rises into the air with Weisshart and flings its now limp adversary into a corner, then retires to the far corner of the room. You watch apprehensively for a time. No knowing where to flee to, you sit and regather your strength, waiting for some sign of activity from where you last saw Cassandra.
Thought the room is by no means cold, you sit tightly coiled, shivering. You weep softly, trying to figure out how to break the dream spell and return to your own bed. As you resolve to rise and search for some means of escape, you spy Cassandra limping in from the shadows. You tense, but wait on her approach. She rolls herself slowly onto the table on the far side, clearly exhausted. You scoot away, keeping your eyes on her and ask slowly and deliberately, "What - do - you - want - from - me?"
She gives a wry, pained smile - taking a moment to reply, "It was foolish... I should have come to you directly. Instead, I asked Weisshart to introduce us. I had no idea what he was doing the first night. By the second night, I doubted his motives. Almost too late tonight, I realized he was going to rip your soul from you and devour you."
