The Club of Death and Rebirth Ch. 01-02

"Why are they wielding swords?" She had not realized she had spoken aloud until a deep voice answered her right next to her ear, sending shivers of fearful pleasure down her spine.

"They seek to tame the harpy and that particular bird never gives it up without a fight."

Half of her wanted to turn and see who had managed to catch her unaware, but she couldn't seem to turn away from the screen. A form jumped from the sky and landed atop one of the two. It was female and it was nude. Her arms were tattooed with feathers in a shade of brilliant azure. Her lips were pulled back in a snarl and her hands were gloved in sharp metal. The purpose of the bracer became evident now as those claws reached for the belly of the one man, but were met and barely held. The second quickly drove her off and helped his companion to his feet. Both begin circling now using their swords to keep her claws out of range and herding her towards a corner of the pen.

The harpy jumped, twisted, and dove over the back of the right sided one taking a hit to her thigh, but leaving a nasty gash along his back. She had more room to maneuver now, but it was obvious that these two were not novices at their blade work. It cost them two more cuts on arms and sides before they managed to corner her and glove her deadly hands and feet. The swords served one final purpose before being discarded, and the leather thongs fell to the ground. The harpy was picked up between them and held aloft easily despite her thrashing. The right sided one held up her legs and spread them as the left sided one begin working his cock into the glistening folds of her pussy. By the time half of him was buried the right sided one had switched his hold from her legs to her breasts. There was no longer need to hold her legs as they now clung tightly to the left sided ones sides, her heels digging into his ass as she seemed to be desperately trying to force his impalement deeper and faster.

By the time he was fully seated sweat beaded on both their forms and though she seemed to thrash harder than when she was first captured she no longer seemed at all interested in getting away. The left handed one arched backward wrapping one arm tight around her waist to hold her still and the other spreading one of her ass cheeks. His companion wasted no time helping spread the other and guiding himself inside the tight rosebud of her ass. It was obvious from the strain of concentration in his expression and the sweat glistening on his body that he had to face an even greater challenge to get his length buried inside the harpy. Her hips shook back and forth as if never satisfied with the depths the two were buried to. Finally their hips begin to move as one seeming to lift her each time they reached an end inside her body. She seemed as if she was going into convolutions between the two and Sam realized that she must be climaxing.

Almost as soon as her climax begin both men shifted their hold slightly one switching to grip her hair and stretch her neck to a long length and the other moving to frame one breast in a grip so tight the skin around his hand mottled. Both men seemed to strike at once. One of them was closing his mouth over that newly bared throat and the other seeming to swallow the breast. The men themselves begin to shake then, quite obviously enjoying a climax of their own.

Finally managing to tear her gaze from the screen she realized that her hand was rubbing against the pad of her own cunt as she had watched and that the man who had whispered in her ear was still there behind her. She turned quickly and found his gaze focused right where she had been rubbing herself just a moment before. He was tall and thin, though he looked corded with muscle like a channel swimmer. His hair was jet black with a white streak going almost from one temple to disappear around the back of his neck. His eyes looked almost purple in the odd lighting of the club. Those eyes slowly climbed her body until he was staring into her own and then he smiled. For some reason that smile struck her as chilling even as it made her pussy cream a little more.

"She is a tasty looking one." The husky feminine voice behind her made her jump as if struck. Quickly she turned to see who had spoken and once again could do nothing, but stare.

She was lushly female, curved and padded skin over panther like muscles. She closed the distance between them like a cat stalking a mouse. Her skin was pale and unblemished. It was also covered in butterfly tattoos. Every inch of her was bare and very few of those inches had been left untouched by an expert needle. Just enough room was given to allow each butterfly its own space to fly. Giant moth looking wings curled around her breasts, the aureoles becoming almost a spot within the wings of those magnificent creatures. Another one about the size of a fist rested gently above the curve of her pussy seeming ready to sip from the clitoris sticking out noticeably from the puffy folds. Even her legs were covered in them. Every color of the rainbow graced her form and probably at least one of every type of butterfly known was there as well.

The only thought that filled her brain then was that the stairs at the back were safety. They led to the manager's office and surely if she could reach them then she would be able find a moment to catch her breath and still this need that was convulsing in her womb almost like cramps. She began backing away down the steps, unknowingly being herded. As she was passing one of the levels she heard a noise like a whistle and felt the brush of air past her body. She stopped and turned to see what had made it seeing only a naked man doing a dance that was more combat then recreation.

Two points of silver glinted in his hands as they weaved and flowed through the space and as she watched someone walked too close and though they did not pause in their step; their clothing failed to follow them down to the next level. She had time to think that maybe this was why so many of the dancers down below were nude, but between that thought and her next step her own clothing seemed to float away from her body in numerous pieces. The man seemed to smile at her and she quickened her pace to get through the room. Nothing was left to cover her, but a thin strip of cotton already quite soaked from the acts she had witnessed earlier.

She finally made it to the dance floor, her pursuers never seeming to get closer, but never getting farther away either. As she stepped down onto the stage her predicament changed again. The stage was packed with people utterly engaged with the music that now seemed to be flowing through her chest and out through her cunt making it pulse in time with the primal beats. She kept moving towards the opposite side of the room, but she was no longer responsible for her own movement. Hands seemed to come out of nowhere to direct her, some pushed her along others pulled. She danced a thousand frantic heart beats with strangers just as nude as she was.

The need kept winding tighter as she felt naked flesh, both hard and soft; grind against her. Lips seemed to appear out of the crowd to kiss her. Teeth tasted her flesh, and tongues lapped sweat from her flesh. Her nipples were teased to aching stones upon her chest. Fingers, lips, and teeth were all taking a taste and then pressing her ever onwards towards the other side. Even that small strip of cotton was lost somehow in the crowd. Every inch of her had been caressed and teased, stroke and tormented, touched and sampled. By the time she was halfway across the dance floor she could barely remember her name, let alone her goal. Still she was moved ever onwards to her destination.

As she stumbled out of the crowd and started up the levels on the opposite side she noticed she was still being pursued; and though she continued her progress towards the stairs she half hoped she would be caught. The need was a fire inside of her now, with every inch of flesh exposed and sensitized until the very air seemed to caress her as much as the people had. Contradicting thoughts flashed through her mind. The need to escape. The need to run. The need to be caught. The need to capture. Over it all however, two thoughts remained dominant. She had to reach the stairs, and she had to get someone to end this torment. It was on the heels of this thought that she saw him.

He stood like a king. An air of authority and power rested upon his shoulders like a cloak. As the woman had been covered in butterflies so he was covered, but his skin was decorated in animals and symbols. A giant black panther seemed to flow over his shoulder one paw going down the length of almost his entire arm. Its head rested upon his chest and gazed out upon the world. Some of the pictures made upon his flesh looked like cave drawings, primitive, but powerful. Some looked so real that she feared to hear them roar in challenge. The symbols were not from any language that she could recognize, but that was hardly surprising. They did feel similar to her though to the ones that had flared so briefly upon the edges of the door.

She stumbled over to him; certain this must be the manager. Her clit was on fire, each step she took rubbed it between the lips of her pussy and her thighs seemed to squeeze it like fingers. She felt slippery down to her knees. She gripped his arms as she got close enough and was already begging. "Please you must help me." She wasn't even sure what she was asking for help with. She didn't think she would care if she woke up tomorrow still feeling the victim in her own head as long as this need was eased now. His voice was exactly what his body would make her expect, a dark growl of a sound that made more cream ease from between her overheated lips.

"Don't worry Sam. We will help you." With a nod to someone over her should he grasped the top of her arms and started to lift her. Two unknown hands gripped her legs and raised those as well so that she was easily carried between them. The hands at her arms promised reassurances, safety, and love. The hands at her ankles promised fear, and the hunt, and sex. It was like standing between a block of ice and an oven. Both burned, but for entirely different reasons.

A third set of hands touched her flesh. These ones were much softer than the other two sets gripping her. They seemed to be tracing patterns across her flesh leaving trails that burned both with the arousal screaming through her system and perhaps something else. Sam could almost muster up enough brain power to admire the coordination it would take to walk between two people carrying a third and trace those intricate patterns.

She felt the world shift as they started going up an incline. She couldn't stop the words tumbling out of her mouth. She was begging to cum. begging to be allowed some relief. The hands gripping her arms tightened for a moment then she heard his voice again. "Do it."

The woman laughed even as she complained. "This isn't easy you know." Then the man holding her legs shifted his grip so that each was held in a separate hand and her feet rested against his forearms. Before she could figure out what was going on he had spread her legs wide and forced her to arch like the suspended woman she noticed when first entering. All she could see was the hard planes of the manager's stomach and the trails of short hair leading to the small bush nestled just above his cock.

Soft fingers were tracing the inside of her thighs and she had just enough faculties to realize the woman now walked between her legs before those fingers started playing over the lips of her pussy. Her back arched even more she felt each lip stretched and toyed with. A soft tongue began licking up the cream that had slid down her thighs even as the fingers called more from her body. The first bit of pressure as her fingers squeezed and played with her clit was like a rocket going off inside her. The lash of her tongue as it finally moved from her thighs directly to the source of that cream she seemed to enjoy so thoroughly jump started her orgasms once more and seemed to jump her from one to the next unendingly with each lash of her tongue.

Her body felt saturated with pleasure, every breath seemed to drag it into her like trying to breathe underwater. She felt two fingers stretching her and then they began to tap and scrap across the top of her cunt and just behind her clit. Her spine felt like it was going to break from the tension. Her muscles had locked her into an arch between the two men carrying her. Waves of sensation tore through her body jerking it within their grasp.

She came back into her own head still floating in that sea of pleasure and feeling another wave building. She realized that she was no longer being carried, but was instead strapped down. She was blindfolded and could see nothing of where she now lay. Her legs felt a mild strain as they stretched within the bonds, and the air felt cool against the exposed and sensitive folds of her pussy.

She felt hands upon her flesh teasing the sensitized skin into a fevered pitch. One set was work roughened and as they passed over her flesh they left both pleasure and a mild sense of fear in their wake. The other set was softer than silk, as were the lips that came down and tasted her own, and with those hands and that kiss she could feel every shield she had ever erected falling. Every wound upon her soul was brought out into a light that should not be there with the blindfold over her eyes. Then she heard his voice. Somehow she knew neither of the other two would speak and that his voice would be the only thing she would hear.

"My name is Koronos. I welcome you to the Club of Death and Rebirth."

She hoped he didn't expect her to speak, because nothing that passed her lips would even begin to sound like English, even were her mouth not filled with the gentle petting of the other woman's tongue. Her body jerked as fingers so much larger than those of the woman's began to stretch and fill her, repeating those early efforts of tap and slide that had made her black out earlier.

"This is Phobos and Psyche. Their gifts are especially suited to my efforts here on your behalf."

Her mind was divided, part of it was focused on the pleasure being inflicted upon her flesh, but part of it was focused on nothing but that voice. She wanted him to keep talking, but she also wanted him to just take her. To pound his flesh inside her own until she could slip into oblivion.

A new sensation worked itself into the dazed sphere of her awareness. She could feel the gentle moue of her ass being stretched slowly. Whatever liquid the object stretching her was coated in seemed to cool the pain while starting a strangely pleasurable burn. The fingers continued their tapping and stretching even as the plug was slowly worked deeper into her body. Still with every touch of those hands the fear seemed to work itself a little deeper. Latching onto those memories and the pains freed by the most gentle of ravaging kisses. It seemed to float there beneath the surface tension of the pleasure racking her.

"It saddens me that we found you so late, and only after you had already gained a rider. There is no way for you to understand yet why your life has gone the way it has or why you feel the way you do, but those things will come in time."

The plug stretching her ass started to slowly expand and vibrate. Those silken fingers plucked and twisted her nipples making her scream into the mouth pressed so closely to her own. The fingers driving spikes of pleasure into her womb with every tap slowly withdrew causing her to arch her hips trying to follow them. No sooner were they gone then she felt something much larger stretching her cunt. The flared head of his cock tunnel into her stretching the muscles there. Just as with his fingers it seemed as if every push of that silken rod brought almost equal doses of pleasure and fear. She somehow knew that when that tension of pleasure broke the fear would come pouring out with it. She just wasn't sure whether her sanity would survive the experience.

"I wish there was an easier way to do this. I wish that you could avoid learning what you will soon know, but if you want control of your life this is the path that must be walked. Though what you learn here can never be unlearned."

The fingers were gripping her nipples so tight she was certain they would be bruised, but the pain only seemed to drive the pleasure higher. She could not decide which way her body wanted to move, which pleasure it would respond to, but the restraints left her little choice in that matter anyway. The thrusts reached the end of her in a constant beat against her womb like the primal melodies of the music on the dance floor. She whimpered out her pleasure into the lips and tongue of Psyche.

"I would give you complete freedom of choice, but I am afraid in some things the fates leave us only so many options. Know pleasure now and let it strengthen you for the ordeals to come."

She knew what he was saying was important. Knew it clear to the depths of her soul, but all she could focus on was that she wanted him to stop talking and take Phobos' place between her legs. She could not explain why that thought crowded out almost everything else, but it was undeniable. As great as the pleasure was, she just knew it would be something more if he was there. Just as he finished speaking, her orgasm blew through her body. It was ground zero of creation and destruction. She could feel forces of chaos born within her body and then borne upon the waves of her pleasure out into the universe. She screamed into the mouth covering hers and arched tighter against the hips grinding against her as she felt his release wash the inside of her walls. Her vision started to darken and she was certain she would pass out.

In that instant just as she thought it might, the fear burst through the pleasure. Her mind tried to flee, to embrace that darkness the pleasure would have provided it, but a sphere of runes filled the darkness trapping her with the fear. Though she knew she was not using her eyes she could not help, but see the bloated ugliness that festered inside her. A rider he had called it, and she could understand why. Like a tick feeding upon the blood of her negativity and fear it had allowed her no other responses until this place. Then another shape sprang from the darkness. The only thing her mind could come up with was panther, but that was not what it was. No jungle cat had ever possessed the claws that raked into her rider. No animal of Earth had ever possessed the teeth that were used to rip the thing to shreds. She could feel the lightness upon her soul as the rider perished, and looking into the eyes of the great beast she recognized that terrible intellect reflected there and knew she was seeing Koronos. Either she grew larger or he grew smaller, but she felt him suddenly able to fit in the cradle of her arms and felt warmth against her chest as he settled there till he was only a tattoo upon her chest. The darkness claimed her.

Once more she was being carried, though this time she was cradled gently and only one set of arms held her. She looked down and saw that she was carrying that mark upon her still. The panther that was not a panther crouched with teeth bared a challenge and a claim. She looked up into the same eyes that had stared at her from vision. Unfortunately the first thing that popped into her head also fell out of her mouth.

"Why didn't you take part? I wanted you there." She knew she wasn't making sense, but he seemed to understand her anyway.

"I could not take part and fight for you both. The fighting had to be done today. It will not be so needed later."

She could feel the promise in that statement and strangely could feel only relieved. "You marked me?" Even she was not certain if it was question or statement.