Incubus

Disclaimer: Konami owns Silent Hill and everything in it. I’m just taking two of its characters for a twisted little joyride.

This story came about because of a joke a friend and I were making about the people Walter’s been paired with. Once I started writing it however, it transformed into something that is one of the darkest fics I’ve written thus far. I’ve put a lot of hard work into this story over the past couple weeks, so I very much hope you enjoy it. If Walter’s thoughts seem inconsistent at times, I assure you it is intentional. The man is insane; you can’t get around that. I’ve tried hard to show how disturbed and deranged he is.

This story contains non-consensual sex between a male and a female, with a touch of violence on the part of the male character. It is not for the weak at heart. You’ve been warned. One last note: Heather is 19; the events of SH3 have not occurred (yet) in this story.


Incubus


Here she was: the Holy One. The Mother of God. His mother.

The Order had lied to him. Room 302 wasn't his mother at all. His real mother was the Holy Mother, the God of all those who longed for Paradise. She would be born through this beautiful flesh for all to rejoice in salvation.

Walter Sullivan stared at the sleeping form of the girl…no, woman, resting on the bed in front of him, unaware of the stranger observing her every movement. Heather was her name. Or should he say, one of her names. She had gone by several in her long lifetime. Heather...Cheryl…he himself knew her best as Alessa.

He had only met her a few times during his childhood. Those memories were still clear after nearly thirty years, many of them spent far removed from the dull, tortured world of “humanity”. She was a lovely girl once during those days. Pretty black hair, an innocent face that would charm those who allowed her into their hearts. And there were not many of them, Walter knew. Alessa was tormented everyday. School, church, home…it made no difference. No matter where she went, there was always someone there to take advantage of her. To mock her, beat her, and call her terrible names.

Much like Walter himself.

Yet as bad as his own experiences with growing up had been, Walter had to admit Alessa’s were much worse. Nobody appreciated her, not even the fools in the Order who wished to use her to bring Paradise to the world. Walter had not witnessed much of their abuse against Alessa, but he had heard about it, and seen the results of their blasphemy. He was not blind in his world. He knew all about what had been done to this divine creature that radiated purity and innocence, and he knew that it was a crime against nature, against God herself. His mother would never be so evil as to demand the sacrifice of such a beautiful and innocent girl as a prelude to Her arrival. To burn her alive as they had…it was the work of a monstrous evil, and were those individuals still alive, Walter would make them into the last of the 21 Sacraments.

The Conjurer gazed upon Heather’s features with a blend of excruciating longing and lust. Only a few months before, he was revolted by the female form. Women were supposed to spiritually beautiful creatures, wholesome and caring and compassionate, just like the Holy Mother. Yet nearly all the female examples he had met over his lifetime had been just the opposite. They were callous, self-centered creatures; corrupt and cruel entities wrapped up only in themselves, too stupid to accept what was right, too heartless to care about others. As a boy, he was intimidated by them. As a young man, he had been terrified of them. And in his present state of glorious ascension, he was absolutely disgusted by them.

Only two had ever exempted themselves from that example. Alessa was one of them. The other had lost some of her luster over the years. It wasn’t that she was a bad person. She was simply not strong enough to resist all of the corrupting influences from the world around her. In the process, she had lost some of the radiance Walter recognized in her when she was a little girl.

But Alessa hadn’t…

And so Walter was attracted to her, like a moth to a flame. He was drawn to her in ways she wouldn’t be able to comprehend. When he found out that she was still alive, something inside of him changed. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. All he knew was that suddenly, the ritual he was performing in his world didn’t seem quite as important. The wanderings of his victims no longer amused him like they once did. And most startling of all, the notion of engaging in certain…activities…with the female form no longer seemed as repulsive. Something was changing inside him, and after much time spent delving into the recesses of his mind, he realized what it was that hounded him.

He wanted her.

Alessa Gillespie…the Holy One…a woman chosen to birth the God who would build an eternal Paradise. She had invaded his thoughts and the innermost sanctum of his being. Walter couldn’t deny it any longer. Against all odds and probability, he wanted her, in a way he had never wanted a woman before.

Only…Alessa wasn’t Alessa now. She was Heather. Heather Morris, a nineteen year old teenager living in Portland with her father, Harry Morris. She was aware of her past, but only vaguely; the extent to which Harry told her about Silent Hill was not an extensive one. He gave her only the basics, trying to keep the part of her that was Alessa from reasserting itself. Meanwhile Alessa struggled to awaken from the state of dormancy she had been forced into. Harry wanted to suppress her and he did just that. Alessa suffocated in the confines of Heather’s being. She wanted to experiment, to seek out companionship and experience the pleasure she had never felt before. Yet her efforts were stifled by Heather’s pathetic desire to please her so-called “Daddy”.

Walter had seen men like him before. They wanted to control their daughters, to keep them as children in grown ups’ bodies forever. Despite their own sordid pasts and the fallacy involved, they were ruthless in stomping out their offspring’s burgeoning sexual sides. Some were blatantly up front about it, while others were more subtle in their manipulations. Sometimes they were successful in extinguishing that sacred fire forever. More often than not, their daughters rebelled against their authority, abusing and exploiting their bodies’ sensual nature until they became little more than depraved whores eager for new perversions.

Heather was a welcome exception. But she was still in danger. The part of her that was Alessa wanted pleasure. She craved it with every fiber of her being. But Heather was afraid of it. She was afraid to pursue a relationship with anyone out of fear that her father would disapprove. Harry was not the loosest guy around when it came to matters of intimacy, that she already knew. Even her attempts at finding such pleasure all by herself were stifled by the fear that Harry would find out what she was doing. She was afraid that Harry would think her a slut; that she was dirty and unworthy of being his daughter. That he would punish her for it. She was afraid, and so she never granted herself the full freedom to enjoy that pleasure for what it was, no strings attached.

All the while, Alessa suffered in silence.

But that would end now. It had to end now. Alessa had been dormant for far too long. It was time for her to live; to explore the depths which Heather failed to reach and give indulgence to her deepest, darkest desires. And now that Walter knew a woman’s sexuality wasn’t something to be feared, there was no way he was going to let this opportunity pass him by. He wanted Alessa and he would have her.

The circumstances were less than perfect. Heather’s personality might prove to be a nuisance for a few insignificant moments. That didn’t matter. Alessa craved for pleasure and he was going to give it to her. He was going to take her places she had never been before.

She was a goddess. She was the chosen mother of God, and by extension, his mother as well. One day, unless his own plan succeeded, she would birth a God and build an eternal Paradise.

But not yet. She was his mother, but tonight the Holy One was his. Tonight he would have her.

Walter moved towards the bed in quiet measured steps. He loomed over Heather in ominous silence, watching the rise and fall of her chest with every breath she took in her sleep. He restrained himself from reaching out to touch her. There would be time enough for that soon.

The raincoat was the first thing to go. He removed the stained heavy garment and let it fall to the floor. The belt came next, followed by his warm brown shoes. Both were removed just as noiselessly. He stood perilously close to her bed now. Reaching down, Walter slowly pulled the blankets away from Heather’s body.

She was clad only in a small pair of shorts and a flimsy tank top that barely covered her slender form. Her legs were especially tantalizing. They were not as long as those Walter had seen on a number of other females, but that was of no consequence. With deliberate carefulness, he ran a hand up the flawless plain of her left leg. He shuddered as he felt her glorious skin beneath his palm. It was incredibly smooth, so unlike anything he had ever felt before. His own flesh was rough and unimpressive; nothing like what he felt from this radiant example of the female form. He could only imagine how much softer other, even more alluring parts of her would be.

His hand traversed all the way up to her thigh. His fingers skimmed around the interior of the top, causing Heather to shiver reactively in her sleep. Walter smiled. She was a sensitive one even when she was resting. She was cute when she did that too. God how he wanted her!

Fortunately, the time was almost at hand. He carefully climbed onto the bed, gently positioning Heather so that lay flat on her back with her legs between his. Heather shifted unconsciously in response, though she didn’t awake from her slumber. Walter peered down at her sleeping form and took a few moments to examine her features in greater detail, now that he was almost face to face with her.

She wasn’t what others would describe as “perfect”. Her skin was marred with blemishes underneath her eyes. Her breasts were small and understated; smaller than Alessa’s might have been. She was skinny; almost fragile-looking in her slimness. And if the lights were turned on, Walter suspected she would appear to be discolored or pale, as if in need of a little sunlight. Yet he didn’t care. Whereas others might have picked her apart for those qualities, in Walter’s eyes they only added to her character. She was magnificent.

Walter’s hands found themselves drawn to her breasts. He cupped the delicate mounds through her undershirt. They were soft but firm, and he was amazed at how good it felt to hold them in his hands. He had never touched a woman like this before, and he was starting to realize what it was the rest of the world saw in this. There was some feeling there, a powerful sensation that ran through him as he fondled Heather’s breasts, that was unlike anything he had felt before. He wanted more.

The soft mounds were like clay in a sculptor’s hands. He played with them for several moments, kneading them and giving them the gentlest of squeezes. Heather remained unaware of his touch. Other than the occasional miniscule sound, there was nothing to indicate her body was aware of what was happening.

That would change soon.

Eventually, Walter moved his efforts to another region of her body even more enticing than the former. He placed his hand against the area between her legs and pressed down gently. The shorts she was wearing obscured any details from his inquiry, but just the mere thought of what he was doing was enough to arouse Walter’s excitement. He was touching in a woman in her most sacred area, and not just any woman, but the Holy One herself. He was exploring her most private treasure, and she was completely unaware of his doing so.

His cock stirred in his pants. He felt the garments grow tighter as his manhood swelled in response to the joy of stimulating a woman in such an intimate, secretive manner. Oh, how he wanted to rip off her shorts and just take her right there! But no, he had to restrain himself. He was going to do this right. Just a little longer…

He began to rub her through her clothing. His hand pressed down into her crotch as it moved up and down in a slow, deliberate fashion. At first Heather gave no sign that she noticed Walter’s actions. Soon enough however, the tide began to turn. Heather began to sigh quietly in her sleep as her body started to respond to Walter’s touch. They were the tiniest little sighs, almost imperceptible to a normal person’s ears, but they were there. And they only continued as Walter increased the rate at which he stroked her crotch. Holy One or not, Heather was still human. The movements of Walter’s palm over the sleep shorts created a generous friction against her groin, which in turn stimulated the clitoris hidden beneath the thin clothing barriers. She began to shift on the bed under his intimate massage, and there was no doubt about it in Walter’s mind. She was enjoying this, even if her conscious self wasn’t at all aware of it.

The ministrations only continued. His right hand kept up the steady pace against her center while the left rested on the side of her hips. Tiny noises of pleasure began to escape from Heather’s lips, but Walter kept with his fondling even as it became apparent she was in real danger of waking up. Just a little more and the risk would become a reality. But Walter wasn’t concerned. He wanted it to happen.

He ceased the motions over Heather’s crotch. She should already be aroused enough – now it was time to take things a step further. Walter’s hand snaked up along the left pant leg of her shorts until he encountered the thin material of Heather’s underwear. Walter’s heartbeat quickened slightly. Even with this last barrier still concealing her, he could easily sense the heat coming from her sex. His fingers dipped into the cotton panties, and at last they were met with a moistened treasure they had never touched before.

Walter wasn’t sure how to describe the unseen flesh. The folds were soft and slippery under his fingertips, betraying a sensitivity and vulnerability that was completely unknown to the Conjurer. She was so smooth, so silky…never had he imagined a woman’s intimate parts would feel so incredible!

As he explored the remarkable territory further, he came across the evidence of Heather’s unknowing arousal. Moisture was already seeping from her in tiny droplets, a testament to how much Walter’s earlier actions had affected her. His fingers skimmed the length of her silken folds until they came to a small bump at the top, which he presumed to be her clitoris. He gave it a few tentative strokes, causing a sigh of pleasure to be released from Heather’s lips. Walter smiled in mischievous delight. He focused on the very tip of the organ, and Heather’s hips shuddered visibly in response. Walter grinned, and he continued to rub a finger across the head of her tiny nub.

Heather’s eyes snapped open.

Walter had the barest of warnings: a brief glimmer of enlightenment that told him she was awake. He sensed her awakening a second before she herself was fully conscious.

It was more than enough time.

Heather’s eyes went wide as she realized the person touching her wasn’t just a dream. But Walter was quicker to react. Before Heather could even scream, he lunged at her with lightning fast reflexes and planted his left hand firmly over her mouth. The other withdrew from her clothing to grab the arm trying to swing at him. She was pinned.

“Don’t move,” he quietly ordered her.

But Heather wouldn’t make it easy. She kicked furiously at the stranger on her bed – at his stomach, his groin…parts that would no doubt render a normal man incapacitated for at least a few moments. On Walter it was a wasted effort. It would take a bullet from the most powerful firearm in existence to make him even flinch. Pain was not something he felt easily.

Annoyance, however, was a different story. He had to admit, Heather’s protests were leaving him just a tad annoyed. And while he didn’t want to hurt Alessa, Walter would not allow Heather’s little tantrum to continue. With only a minor sense of reluctance, he slammed his right fist down on Heather’s stomach. Heather’s eyes widened in shock and her limbs ceased their erratic movements as the pain radiated in her abdomen.

“I said don’t move,” Walter repeated in a much harsher tone. “Don’t say a word either. Got it?”

Heather nodded quickly. Walter held his hand over her mouth for several moments before slowly pulling it away.

Heather let out a scream.

Walter cursed silently to himself. He should have known she would break her word, figuratively speaking. Heather wasn’t like Alessa. She was more…treacherous, more like other people. Not that she was a bad person by any means. She was simply not as pure as her more enlightened counterpart.

“Dad! Dad, help me!”

The shrill cries for help grated on Walter’s ears. How deluded she was, to be calling to him for help, as if he truly cared anything about her well being. More importantly, this…resistance was getting on his nerves. Clearly she needed a little more convincing.

Rather than attempt to silence her again, he tried a different approach. Grabbing a hold of her right breast, he took the supple mound and squeezed. Heather’s pleas for help increased in pitch as his fingers dug into her flesh with excruciating force.

“Daddy! Daddy, help me, please!” Heather cried at the top of her lungs.

It was an exercise in futility. Walter only dug his fingers in deeper, and all Heather could do was wonder in distressed agony why her father wasn’t coming to save her from this monster. Tears sprung to her eyes and she pleaded for him to stop. But Walter’s grip didn’t loosen. He maintained his claw-like grasp until her breast felt like it would explode. And when she thought the pain couldn’t possibly get any worse, his free hand reached down to cup her other breast. In a matter of seconds, he was giving it the same torturous treatment.

Heather’s cries dissolved into a cacophony of agony. She was screaming and kicking at him now, trying once again to drive off her attacker despite the fact that he was clearly impervious to pain. Walter gave a mental sigh. He hated to harm Alessa in any way, but he would not tolerate this further. He would not allow this girl’s irksome protests to interfere with this experience. Before Heather knew what hit her, Walter slammed his right hand hard between her legs.

Heather went ramrod still as her body was engulfed in a spasm. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open, frozen in a noiseless scream. The unexpected blow had done its job. Her hands went to her crotch as she immediately cupped the area protectively. Her clitoris and labia, once pulsing with pleasure, were now throbbing with pain. She gradually curled into a fetal position as the pain spread throughout her lower body, leaving a terrible feeling of nausea in her gut. Finally, the first whimpers of agony escaped from her throat as she gasped for breath.

Walter wore a satisfied grin. His gamble worked and he had no doubt Heather would behave herself from now on. Pain, he had learned, was a very good motivator. She was crying quietly to herself now, letting out a mixture of low whimpers and sobs – it was all she could manage right now. Walter had to admit, a part of him liked seeing Heather like this. Perhaps it was a remnant of the time when felt nothing but revulsion for women, being terribly intimidated by them. Or maybe it was the fact that she was simply not Alessa. Either way, there was a small part of him that rather enjoyed seeing the anguish written on her features.

Besides, a little pain wouldn’t kill her.

Walter grabbed a hold of her arms and flipped her over onto her back. Heather yelped as she felt his cold hands on her again, but she was in no position to resist any further. Grabbing the center of her undershirt, he tore the flimsy garment in half, exposing Heather’s breasts to the open air. Heather uttered a frightened sound, but before she could even contemplate making an effort to cover herself, Walter cupped her breasts with both hands. Heather whimpered in protest, causing Walter to press down with the slightest hint of pressure.

“Keep still,” he told her warningly.

Heather was too scared to even try to respond. So she simply laid still, heartbeat racing in her chest at the thought of what this madman would do to her next.

Walter stared at her breasts. Even in the dimness of the room, he could tell they were beautiful. Once he was sure she wouldn’t try anything, he eased the pressure off her chest. His hands flowed slowly over the creamy globes they were holding as he indulged the curiosity that had been burning inside him for so long. Heather gasped at the contact, though she dared not move an inch in the slightest direction. However, she was unable to hold her voice when Walter began to knead the tender flesh.

“No…please, stop,” she whimpered brokenly. Her breasts were still incredibly sore from Walter’s assault on them. The caresses that might have been pleasurable under any other circumstance sent spikes of discomfort through her torso. Walter’s touches became rougher as he squeezed the delicate mounds, and the unpleasant jolts transformed into a wave of distress taking grip of her chest.

“No! Stop it, please,” Heather begged her assailant tearfully.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Walter continued to knead her sensitive flesh with almost childlike fascination, pausing every so often to pinch Heather’s rosy peaks. Soon enough the temptation was too strong to resist, Lowering his lips to her bare form, he took her right breast into his mouth. Heather drew a sharp intake of breath as she felt Walter’s lips enclose her nipple. His tongue lapped over the sensitive pebble, sending shivers of unpleasantness down Heather’s body.

Soon he began to suck on her mound with curious enthusiasm, causing Heather to gasp and squirm under the sensations oh so foreign to her body. Her discomfort only increased when Walter’s hand traversed down to her hips and began to rub between her legs. The area was still aching with terrible pain and even with the barrier of her sleepwear between them, the friction against her privates only made things worse.

“No, stop it, please,” Heather reiterated, letting out a series of whimpers. Walter didn’t appear to be fazed and she tried again much louder in desperation. “Please stop!”

Walter raised his head from her chest. Heather was crying freely, making no effort to stop the tears pouring down her cheeks. She was trembling a bit, and the fear in her eyes spoke of a rapidly growing panic. She was on the verge of hysteria. And suddenly, it occurred to Walter that he may have gone a little too far. If Heather was so upset, then he was going about this the wrong way. He could not hope to make her feel good if she was in too much pain to respond to his efforts. And if it wasn’t pleasurable for her, it sure wouldn’t be pleasurable for Alessa.

“Aw, does it hurt?” Walter asked, a slight bit of teasing present in his tone. Heather nodded miserably. Walter leaned in close to her.

“I can make it better for you,” he told her softly.

Heather blanched as he placed a hand on the center of her chest, almost expecting another attack. But no such blow came. Instead his fingers trailed lightly down her body, and she felt a curious tingling sensation spread throughout her form. She was alarmed, but whatever it was, it didn’t hurt. And then, a most unexpected thing happened: the pain in her chest and her private region completely disappeared.

Heather looked at her aggressor with reluctant, yet considerable newfound amazement. How did he do that? Despite her utter disbelief, the pain was gone, leaving behind it only the normal sensations from having her chest exposed.

“You don’t know who I am, yet. But you will. Soon, when your true self awakens,” Walter stated calmly, apparently indifferent to her awe. Heather inhaled sharply upon hearing those words. Her “true self”? Was he talking about…? No, it couldn’t be…

Walter grabbed her biceps gently. “This can be as painful or as pleasurable for you as you want it. It’s up to you.”

Heather was quiet as she absorbed his words. There was nothing to say. It was painfully obvious who was in control here. No matter what Heather did, she had no hope of escaping from this situation. She was at his mercy and they both knew it. Ordinarily she might resist to the bitter end. But this wasn’t an ordinary assault, and this was no ordinary man holding her captive. She had no idea how he did it, but as easily as he’d taken her pain away, he could bring it back. And she had no desire to experience that pain again.

If only her Daddy were here…why wouldn’t he come to help her?

“You were a fool to call for him,” Walter said off-handedly, as if reading her thoughts. Heather was taken aback. Was he actually capable of reading her mind?

“He can’t hear you,” Walter continued. “I’ve taken care of that.”

Briefly Heather wondered what he meant. And then it struck her. Did he hurt her dad? Had he k…no! That wasn’t possible, Heather fought back furiously. She refused to believe it. But then she had an image of Harry lying helpless in his bed fast asleep, while this maniac loomed over him. Tears filled her eyes. Why else wouldn’t he come to defend her, unless he couldn’t? And this madman didn’t seem the merciful type. Oh God…she thought distraughtly. What if he was gone?

Walter smiled at the upset thoughts going through her mind. In reality, Harry was safely in his bed in his room of the apartment. It was Walter’s influence that prevented him from noticing anything unusual. The reason he didn’t answer Heather’s calls was because he had no idea she was even making them in the first place. But Heather didn’t know that.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like he really cares for you, is it?” He smirked as he sensed her bristle at his claim. Yes, she was in the dark about her father and Walter sure wasn’t going to tell her. Better to keep her focused on what was going on here, in this room, than to entertain any thoughts of a ‘rescue’ by that loathsome bastard of a man.

“It’s just you and me now.”

Heather remained silent as the severity of the situation sunk in fully. She was trapped; there was no way out. And so she didn’t say a word, choosing to remain still rather than risk another of this infernal being’s outbursts.

Walter took that as a sign of her assent. Before she could react in any way, he planted his lips down on her, kissing her squarely on the mouth. He had never shown this type of affection for anyone before, but he had seen enough of how it was done not to hesitate. Heather could only squirm inwardly as his lips devoured hers with inexperienced enthusiasm. She nearly gagged when his tongue invaded her mouth, yet by some force of will, she was able to hold back. She had a feeling he would only get angry again if she became nauseous from his kiss.

Her body was firmly pinned down by his. To her utmost worry, she felt a definite bulge pressing against her stomach. Once again she became frightened. Heather had never been this close to a man’s erection before and it most certainly left her unbalanced. Much quicker than she would have imagined, she found herself readily kissing him back. However, it was not a gesture born out of any mutual desire, it was one born out of sheer desperation. It was obvious what this man wanted and the prospect of that terrified her. But maybe there was another option. Maybe if she gave him enough of herself, he would be satisfied and leave her alone, before he took away the one thing left she had absolutely no desire to give to anyone unwillingly.

At last Walter pulled away due to Heather’s lack of oxygen. She struggled to regain her breath, but Walter was only beginning. He bent down to kiss to the side of her neck, brushing his lips repeatedly against the velvety skin. Heather gasped as he found the sensitive spot near her nape. Sensing he’d hit a good spot, Walter proceeded to nibble on the area, making Heather wriggle anxiously in his grasp. After several minutes, he focused his attention on a lower region on her body.

The remnants of Heather’s tank top were still present beneath her exposed body. Walter tossed them aside and wasted little time in going for her breasts. His hands played across her chest as he groped and massaged her womanly flesh. And once again, he took one of the soft mounds into his mouth. The sensations were different for Heather this time. Before she was wracked with agonizing pain and Walter’s ‘affections’ only increased that torment. Now they actually felt rather pleasant. His tongue swirled over her silky nipple as Heather found it increasingly difficult not to react to his efforts. She had never had this done to her before, and against all odds, her nipples began to harden in response.

No…I can’t be getting aroused by this! Heather thought in disbelief. This…man was molesting her…raping her…how could she possibly feel anything but disgust and rage from this? And yet, she could not deny that he was having an effect on her. Nobody had ever touched her in this way before, and she was completely unprepared for the intensity. Maybe it was the gentleness in his touch, and the way he had taken away her pain…almost as if he cared for her, though she knew that to be a blatant deception on his part.

She shuddered as his hand skimmed down her bare stomach, into the jogging shorts she wore for sleeping, and past the waistband of her panties. Heather gasped as he found her clit and began to play with the delicate little nub. His fingers were surprisingly skilled, and it wasn’t long before Heather began to feel the stirrings of pleasure from the stroking.

Meanwhile, Walter continued to lick and suck at her breasts. He would focus for a time on one then switch to the other for a while, making sure each got a generous amount of treatment. Never had he imagined he would enjoy doing this so much, pleasuring a woman’s breasts like this. They tasted so good, and it felt so good to have them in his grasp. Touching them, tasting them, using his mouth on them…it all felt so right. Why had he never done this before? He asked himself rhetorically.

Heather seemed to be enjoying it just as much. Her nipples were rock hard. Every flick or caress he gave them with his tongue sent jolts shooting down to Heather’s crotch. Combined with the stimulation he was giving her clit, it was too much. She began to moan quietly in pleasure, and though she tried to pass them off as whimpers of fear, Walter wasn’t fooled. She was enjoying this.

Walter finally pulled back from her breasts. He also removed his hand from her nether region. He smiled as her watched Heather’s gorgeous chest rise and fall with some quickness. That was a great experience, but now he was ready for more. And so was she.

Heather was relieved when Walter pulled his right hand out of her shorts, but the feeling was short-lived as she saw the sinister look on his face. He was up to something, and that instinct proved correct when he began to remove her sleep attire. He hauled the shorts down her thighs, and forcibly lifting up her legs, slid them past her ankles to discard them. Heather was left only in her underwear.

Walter stared hungrily at her body. Heather’s arms were drawn to close to her body, more out of instinct than from any real attempt to cover herself. She was nervous; Walter was willing to bet she had never been so exposed in front of anyone outside her father before. He eyed the small pair of panties she wore disdainfully. It was the last obstacle keeping him from seeing the Holy One in her full glory; her most private treasure lay concealed just beneath. There was no question about it: those had to go.

The Conjurer shifted lower on the bed. If he looked closely, he could see a moist spot forming on the crotch of the panties, a result of the earlier stimulation had given her. The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a slight smirk. It was an intriguing little detail; briefly he was tempted to see how much wetter she would get if he just kept touching her through the panties. But no, his desire to see her was greater than any curiosity he might have about the idea. Much, much greater, and the time had come to act on that desire.

Grabbing the material with both hands, he promptly ripped open the cotton garment. Heather was startled when she heard the sound of the fabric tearing. She instinctively closed her legs as he dragged the shreds from underneath her and threw them to the floor. Heather tried to keep her thighs pressed together, but Walter pried them open with effortless ease, and at last he beheld the Holy One in her natural state, bereft of any clothing to conceal her beauty.

Walter had touched the folds between her legs. He had felt their silkiness, made them swell with arousal…but never did he expect them to be as beautiful as they were. A feeling of awe and appreciation overtook him as he laid eyes on Heather’s bare sex for the first time. It wasn’t just Heather; it was the first time he had ever seen any woman’s sex in his entire lifetime. And he couldn’t have chosen a better one to look upon. She was beautiful…magnificent; an exquisite work of art unlike any he’d ever seen before.

Heather’s heartbeat pounded in her ears as she awaited Walter’s next course of action with baited breath. She didn’t have to wait long. With an almost primal ferocity, Walter’s lips descended on her chest. He gripped her arms tightly as he rained down lustful kisses over the center of her chest. Heather expected him to resume the oral treatments of her breasts from earlier, but instead he traveled lower on her body. He planted kisses all over her stomach, leaving behind a trail of feathery light touches as he moved down her abdomen, past the triangle of dark hair that preceded the folds of her sex.

He was at her crotch now. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she felt his breath over her. Heather trembled as he gazed at bare sex with rapt fascination. To her, it was veritable torture, making her wait in apprehension for whatever new violation he intended like a prisoner anxiously awaiting their execution. To Walter, it was a feast for the eyes, a sight that he never believed he would see and could never get enough of now. An eternity seemed to pass, though it was only a matter of seconds. And when Heather was at her wit’s end, she was no longer able to contain her voice.

“What are you…” she began to ask, only to be cut off as Walter suddenly licked her folds. Heather cried out not in pain, but from shock, disbelief, and just a bit of pleasure as she felt Walter’s warm tongue on her delicate skin. The sensation was alien to her, unusual and unsettling, and she could not help but squirm, trying reactively to get away. Walter was unaffected by the less than positive response. He traced the surface of her inner lips, marveling at how soft and vulnerable she felt under him. He started at the bottom, gradually exploring her depths until he worked his way up to a certain critical spot.

Heather’s heart rate quickened when she realized what he about to do.

“No…not there,” she pleaded, slowly shaking her head. She didn’t know if she would be able to handle what he almost certainly had in mind.

It was no use. Just as she was about to plead again, Walter ran his tongue over her clit. Heather gasped and bucked her hips slightly off the bed as the shock of it coursed through her body. Pleased with her reaction, Walter grasped the sides of her hips to hold her down as he began to lap at her clit more thoroughly. Heather could barely breathe, could barely make a sound as his tongue played over the highly sensitive nub. She had never been pleasured orally before and the feelings were more overwhelming than she ever would have expected. She gripped the sheets beneath her tightly, a small yet palpable sign of how potent the feelings afflicting her were.

Walter wasn’t in heaven, but this was as close as he could come to it without taking that last fateful step necessary to claim the Holy One as his. Whoever said that there was no pleasure to be found in pleasing someone else was out of his mind, because the pleasure Walter was experiencing was deliriously enticing. He had never felt better than he did right now, driving his beloved to the brink of ecstasy purely through the motions of his mouth. He licked vigorously at the tantalizing pebble that was her clit, before trailing downwards to enclose her nether lips with his mouth.

Her body writhed under the assault of the currents flowing through her hips, and Walter worked his hands beneath her buttocks to hold her steadily in place. Heather’s ass was incredibly smooth; so much that Walter found himself playing with the soft globes. He kneaded the arousing flesh giddily, marveling at the feel of them in his hands as he licked and sucked the soft pink flesh of her womanhood. His tongue probed into her entrance and at last he savored the full zest of Heather’s essence. The taste was exquisite! Hers was a nectar with a taste uniquely its own – a flavor that was both sweet and tangy, and drove him absolutely insane with lust. He couldn’t get enough of it, and the more he licked at Heather’s clit, the more the droplets of juices flowed.

Heather tried her best not to give in. But the movements of his mouth against her sex were too much, and her previously aroused state had not helped at all. In a matter of moments, she found herself surrendering to his ministrations. Walter flicked his tongue over her clitoris at an even quicker pace, causing Heather to moan reluctantly in pleasure. Mentally, she was screaming at herself and her aggressor. She scolded herself for making such noises, for acting like some perverted slut getting some sick thrill from being assaulted. Her indignation was in vain. She couldn’t help it: the sensations were overtaking her. They rocked her body with unprecedented force, driving her closer and closer to a place that would be most unwelcome in this horrible scenario. Eventually Walter did the unthinkable – he took her entire clitoris into his mouth.

Heather cried out as he initiated a double assault on her pleasure point, alternating between sucking on the hardened organ and using his tongue on its extremely sensitive tip. The rush was indescribable and for one frighteningly heart stopping moment, Heather was scared she would orgasm from the unsurpassed stimulation. It would be the ultimate humiliation, the ultimate blow to her self-esteem, if this madman made her come from his efforts.

Heather’s prayers were apparently answered. In a very unexpected move, Walter suddenly pulled back from her sex. Heather backed away and instinctively closed her legs. Her clit was practically throbbing for attention, and she resisted the surprising urge to touch it. She was never going to touch herself down there again. Not after tonight.

She prayed to any God who might be listening that her assailant was finished with this torment. Then she got a look at Walter’s face. He wasn’t satisfied, not by a long shot. And there was only one thing left for him to do.

Her heart sank when Walter undid the fastenings of his pants. The bulge was evident in his underwear, straining to escape its confines. He was fully in erect in anticipation of what was to come. And that was when Heather knew, she wouldn’t be getting out of this with her virginity intact.

Moisture began to well in her eyes. In all the possibilities she had considered about her first time, and admittedly there were not many of them, never did she imagine it would be like this: at the hands of a rapist who had bypassed her father and gotten to her in the one place where she should have been safe. Through a flurry of tears, she watched as Walter moved towards her.

“No…” she whispered to herself. When his hands reached for her hips, Heather immediately recoiled.

“No!” she cried in defiance. She knew damn well what he wanted and she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. She moved her hands protectively between her legs in an iron grip, and to Walter’s surprise, it took quite a bit of strength to pry them away. But pry them away he did, despite Heather’s kicks at his torso. He forced apart her legs and positioned himself between them. Heather tried to resist, but Walter held her hands firmly against the bed.

“Stay still, Alessa. You’re only making it harder on yourself,” Walter whispered to her harshly. And suddenly, it was like some other force was restraining her. Despite Walter’s hands pulling away, her wrists remained pinned to the mattress.

Walter stared deeply at her vulnerable sex. Her clitoris was peeking out from its hood, rock hard from the pleasure he had given her. She was wet; very much so. Her folds glistened with the proof of her desire and the moisture continued to drip from inside her womanhood. She was ready for him.

Heather’s lower lip was trembling, as was the rest of the body. She choked back a sob, determined not to show any more weakness in front of this bastard. It didn’t change the fact that she was scared. She knew what was about to happen and she was powerless to do anything about it. Walter pushed down his pants and his underwear, and Heather caught a glimpse of the large member between his legs. She dared not look any further; she could only imagine how much this was going to hurt.

That fear only intensified when she felt the tip of his shaft probing against her entrance. Heather braced herself for the inevitable, trembling almost uncontrollably now.

And in one powerful movement, Walter thrust himself into her core.

Heather screamed in agony. The pain was unlike any she had felt before. All thoughts of staying strong flew out of her mind as the intrusion tore through her form like a massive electrical shock. Walter grunted as he pushed further into her vagina, jarring her further over the edge into a state of agonized distress. He gave a few moments to get used to the intrusion. And then, once they were both ready, he began to thrust steadily into her.

The young woman grasped at the sheets under her with a death grip. The hold on her arms had loosened, but she could do nothing to take advantage of it. The pain was horrific – every trace of her previous arousal vanished under its excruciating hold. Walter was not a gentle lover either. His motions increased in pace with no regard whatsoever to her comfort. With every thrust he gave into her, Heather felt like she was being torn in half. Tears flowed freely from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks in streams while the sobs emanated from her choked airway. Meanwhile, her attacker was having a very different experience, one that was as opposite from Heather’s as water was from sand.

Walter was in heaven. He ground his hips against Heather’s with unflinching territorial bravado. It was one thing to envision doing this to the Holy One. It was quite another to actually be here performing this most sacred of acts on her blessed body. It was incredible! He was amazed at how tight her walls felt around his organ, gripping it firmly with every motion he gave into her. The feeling was absolutely fantastic! Never in his wildest dreams did he ever believe it would feel like this.

Heather however, clearly did not share his enthusiasm. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that deep down inside her, Alessa had to be enjoying the pleasure he was bringing her. Finally she had a chance to experience the sensations she always wanted, and Walter knew that his efforts were not going unnoticed by her. Knowing there was more he could to pleasure her, he bent down and took one of her breasts into his mouth. The soft mound was still every bit as succulent as before, and he sucked vigorously at the pliant flesh as held her closely. Though Heather was adrift in a world of pain, his gesture did not go unfelt by her. And then, to her sheer disbelief and horror, she felt something stroking her clit, as if some invisible hand was touching her there, trying to stir it back to its previous excitement. When her cries and sobs became distracting to his focus, he clamped a hand firmly over her mouth, cutting off her protests and forcing her to breath through her nose if she wanted to prevent herself from passing out.

Throughout it all, not once did Walter slow down the pace at which he ground his member into Heather’s aching sex.

Were it any other man, Heather would not have climaxed under his touch. She would have been in too much agony to feel even a stirring of pleasure from his ruthless thrusts into her. But this was no ordinary man and it was no ordinary coupling they were involved in.

For Walter Sullivan was more than just a roaming spirit gradually carrying out a painstaking archaic ritual. In this place he was no less than a god. And right now, what this god wanted was to see his counterpart release herself to his will. This was his world, these were his rules, and no one would be exempt from them. Not even the Holy One.

Against her body’s very nature, Heather felt the pain giving way to a rising inferno in her core. She tried to fight it, tried to resist the emerging wave rapidly blossoming inside her. But it was no use. She could neither stop it nor slow it down. The orgasm would claim her just as Walter’s wrath had claimed his previous victims.

With a cry muffled by Walter’s hand, Heather exploded into orgasm. Her body arched beneath the Conjurer’s as the powerful climax shattered her from the inside out. Her hips rocked involuntarily against Walter’s, which only served to further extend the devastating sensations pulsing through her sex. Never once did Walter cease his movements. He slammed into her with unyielding force as her orgasm passed its course, still not ready for his own release.

She was quivering underneath him now, exhausted from the massive outpouring of pleasure coaxed from her at Walter’s hands. But Walter did not stop. As if the intense session had no effect on him whatsoever, he continued his unyielding assault on her body. He was relentless, he was invincible, and to Heather’s sheer disbelief, she felt herself begin to come again from his power.

The orgasm struck her just as strongly as the first, if not stronger. Heather buckled under the powerful waves, struggling to breathe as her body shook from the devastating pleasure. Walter had let go of her mouth, but the breaths still came hard as she struggled to draw oxygen into her lungs. Eventually the torrent receded, but only for a moment. And before she could even begin to recover, Heather once again felt the familiar sensation overpowering her. She wanted to scream, she wanted to lash out at the monster doing this to her with all her might, but all she could do was cry as yet another climax tore its way through her consciousness. Her muscles clenched in colossally powerful spasms, and it was only the beginning.

Before long, everything seemed to blur into one horrifically inescapable ordeal. Orgasm after orgasm rocked her body, one after the other, almost like one massive never-ending climax. And though Heather was very disoriented by now, she remained unavoidably aware of her situation. Her vagina was wounded and sore, yet she could not stop herself from feeling ongoing pleasure. Through the seemingly endless euphoria of suffering, she was aware of everything taking place on that bed. The motions of Walter’s hardness inside her, the feel of his bare skin against her, the sweat pouring out her pores…everything seemed more vibrant than usual, amplified beyond measure by some powerful unknown force.

Heather felt her sanity breaking at the seams. Spots were dancing in her vision. Her arms were clutched around Walter almost against their will. It was all she could to hold on, physically and mentally. Her heart was racing at alarmingly quick pace, faster than it ever had before. She feared she would have a heart attack if this kept up for much longer.

Walter wasn’t worried. No matter how out of control her pulse became, he knew it wouldn’t fail her. It wasn’t in her capacity as the Holy One.

The torture continued for what seemed like hours. It was maddening and excruciating, beyond anything Heather could ever have imagined was possible. She wasn’t even seeing anymore, not really. The world in front of her was a mass of blending colors and shadows; her eyes had lost the ability of distinction from the unending cycle of tormenting pleasure. She felt herself fading. Everything was becoming surreal and indiscernible as her body started to give out from the unnatural attack on its endurance. Not even her assailant’s apparent supernatural power could help her as she felt herself becoming lighter, like she were floating on a cloud in some bizarre dream.

And when Heather was at her breaking point, Walter heard a single word suddenly strike his mind like a massive burst of lightning.

STOP!

Walter immediately focused in his mind. He knew what that voice meant. And it was just in time. Heather was fading rapidly and not even he would be able to keep her consciousness from leaving.

With one mighty thrust into her core, Walter released his essence as Conjurer and Holy One came magnificently in unison. He held her tightly as he emptied his seed into her womb while her body shook with terrible spasms. Walter’s movements had slowed down considerably, but he continued to push himself into her as the orgasms washed over both of them. Finally, the pleasure receded. Walter released his hold on Heather, but she was still shaking with spasms of aftershock. Her mouth was open – she seemed to be trying to speak, but no words would come out. She gasped desperately for breath, and Walter sensed that she had reached her limit. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and with the final tremors of one last orgasm behind her, at last Heather passed out on her bed.


~


Walter stared at the naked form of the Holy One. Her body was sheathed in sweat, glistening under the minuscule light available in the room. She was mercifully unconscious, her face betraying a peaceful expression that belied the experience she had just been through. She looked beautiful.

A knowing smile came to Walter’s face. He knew that last part would do the trick. He hadn’t been sure that it would work at first, but once he saw the power he could claim over Heather’s body, he knew his effort would be successful. And by extending that pleasure she was feeling to such an incredible extent, he had triggered something that gave him an enormous amount of satisfaction.

During those prolonged minutes of their session, he had been in continued contact with Heather’s mind, probing into the depths of her consciousness to see if the incredibly intense experience was having the intended effect. And when he heard that incredible voice in his mind, he knew that he had found what he was really looking for. He had done it. He knew that voice.

It was Alessa’s.

And that was all the proof Walter needed. She was in there, and now she was awakened. Heather would still be in control for now, but it would only be a matter of time until Alessa began to assert herself.

More importantly, she had enjoyed what he did.

Another person might not have been so certain. But Walter was sure of it. Another person might have taken Alessa’s response as a cry for help, a sign that she was not at all enjoying what he was putting her through. Walter knew differently. Perhaps he had been a little rough with her, but he was a novice, after all. And were Alessa not enjoying the pleasure he was bestowing on her, she would not have awakened the way she did.

Besides, there would always be more chance for practice next time.

And there would be a next time, Walter was sure of that as well. Now that he was aware of how incredible it was first hand, there would be many more opportunities to enjoy the delights the Holy One had to offer him. This was only the beginning.

He gathered his clothes from the floor and in one quick gesture they were once again back on his body. Another took care of the surroundings themselves. And then, he took one last look at the woman he had grown to admire and worship in a most reverent way.

In a matter of seconds, he was gone as silently as he came.


~


The next morning, all was well when Harry Morris woke up. Nothing was amiss. The front door was locked. The windows were closed. Yet there was a strange feeling gnawing at Harry’s gut. He didn’t know what it was, so he proceeded with his usual morning routine. It wasn’t until he went to wake up his beloved daughter Heather that he realized what was wrong.

Harry opened the door to Heather’s bedroom expecting to see his daughter curled up on her bed fast asleep. Instead he beheld a sight that would forever be seared in his mind.

Heather was completely nude on her bed. Her feminine curves were completely exposed for Harry to see, as was the niche of dark hair between her legs. His eyes widened as the heat rose to his face at the sight of his little girl’s body so exposed. For a moment, Harry thought he had stumbled onto Heather sleeping in the nude and he was about to chastise himself for not getting right out of there. Until he noticed the way the sheets were carelessly tossed aside, the unnaturally stiff angle of Heather’s body that couldn’t have made for a comfortable sleeping position, and the deathly pallor that seemed to have taken hold of Heather’s skin.

“Heather,” Harry gasped in shock. What had happened to his little girl? That was when he noticed the most alarming thing yet – the bloodstain on the bed between her legs.

Oh my God…

“Heather!” Harry cried out in horror. He rushed to the bed and took Heather’s unconscious form in his arms. Thankfully, she was still alive. Her pulse was steady and her skin was actually warm despite its paleness. Harry uttered a giant sigh of relief. For one heart stopping moment he feared the worst. However, her body was clammy with sweat. Lots of sweat, as though she had been in a place with a high temperature or doing something unusually exertive. And most worrisome of all, there were bruises forming over certain areas of her body: her breasts, her stomach, and along her inner thighs. It was like she had been…

Harry shuddered at disturbing possibility. But no, there was no sign of anyone having broken into the place. He would know if they had, and he would sure as hell know if his daughter was being assaulted in the room nearby. He was a very light sleeper out of necessity nowadays; ever since they were attacked one night many years before when Heather was just a little girl.

But if nobody had broken in, then what the hell was responsible for this? What in God’s name happened to his daughter?

“Heather. Heather, wake up,” Harry shook her gently. He slapped her cheeks lightly, trying to stir her awake. “Come on honey, wake up.”

There was no response. Harry held her close to him as he worry only grew. What was he going to tell her when she became aware of this? Suddenly, he felt his daughter sit in his arms. He looked down to see her eyes opening tiredly. She blinked repeatedly several times, trying to focus with considerable effort.

“Daddy?” she asked in a childlike voice. Harry heard the confusion in her tone. There were other things as well. Anxiousness, fear…maybe she wasn’t aware yet of her exact condition, but she knew something was wrong. And the worst thing was he hadn’t a clue as to what answers to give her.

He settled for one he knew that always worked. He pulled Heather into a crushing embrace. Her nakedness didn’t matter – it was the last thing on his mind given the circumstances.

“Are you all right, darling?”

Heather was silent for a long time. Finally, she replied with a simple, perplexed statement.

“I’m cold.”

Harry only held her tighter. He stroked her cropped blonde hair as he supported Heather’s body, murmuring soft reassurances in her ear. Suddenly, he felt a peculiar urge to turn around and look at the mirror on Heather’s dressing table. It was in that moment, as he cradled his daughter’s petrified form in his arms, that Harry Morris saw something which sent a chill down his spine.

Written on the mirror in what appeared to be actual blood was large symbol consisting of concentric circles and archaic-looking runes. It was a symbol Harry had come to be very familiar with over the past nineteen years, and its ramifications in this situation left him feeling colder than he had in years.

It was the Halo of the Sun.