Summary:
Libby's adventure continues on the drive to Nova Scotia. Who is waiting for her in the blacked-out van?
Notes:
If you're still with me, congratulations, you made it past level one. Level two is even more intense, as each chapter exponentially ramps up from the previous.
Read the TW's. Do not replicate or reproduce any of the acts in this series.
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Ch. 02 - Highway to Hell
She took in the people who occupied the van, and her muscles locked one by one.
Both sides were occupied by guards in jump seats. They wore identical black uniforms, their faces entirely covered with black balaclavas and opaque sunglasses. Libby couldn't make out any distinguishing features, not even their mouths, but it was obvious that every single one of them was a man.
The interior was large, almost the size of a small bus. Elaborate tech equipment lined the walls and ceiling, and several monitors displayed maps and video feeds that showed distinct images of every room in her house.
She could see her bedroom, the buttercream-yellow coverlet on top of her bed still unmade. Her small kitchen was next, the orange light of her crockpot a reminder of the chicken and rice soup she would never get to eat. A surge of bitter embarrassment made heat rise to her face when she saw that every angle of her bathroom was on display: her shower, the closet, the fruit-shaped rugs that littered the floor. Only the toilet, which had a privacy door, had been spared their vulgar voyeurism.
Several emotions ran through her all at once. Confusion, indignation, disgust. But the one that settled in the marrow of her bones and stayed there was an all-consuming, white-hot fear.
Fenrow didn't speak as he settled them both on the foam-padded floor and tucked Libby between his long legs. A thickly veined hand slid up and gripped one of her exposed breasts, and more heat rose to her face. She forced herself to stare at the floor, refusing to acknowledge his touch, willing herself to let the presence of the other men fade into the background.
The realization that she had no plan and no hope of being found was finally starting to sink in.
Surviving.
That was her only option now.
The threats Galen and Fenrow had made while they'd taken her, the prospect of her unknown future, all of it swelled in all at once and threatened to overwhelm her.
No. She couldn't think about that right now. Right now, she had to live in the present. They'd been cruel, but it didn't sound like they wanted to kill her. As long as she was still alive, as long as she pretended to play their game, she still had a chance to escape. Eventually. She only hoped she could retain her sanity until then.
The van lurched forward and pulled away from the library. There were no windows back here, so there was no way to know which direction they were headed.
A hazy memory surfaced. Galen had mentioned something about a 'portal' across the border in Nova Scotia. Unless these people were rich occultists who thought they were going to find a tear in reality in the middle of fuck-all nowhere, then that hadto be a euphemism for something else. A bunker? A facility? Some sort of blue-blooded hideout they'd had in their family for generations?
Even though she couldn't see their faces, she could feel the eyes of each guard drinking in every square inch of her naked flesh. Erections strained against the inside of their black cargo pants, and a few of the men had already reached down to adjust themselves more than once. She tried to make herself as small as possible, hating that she had to tuck herself into Fenrow's chest to cover herself.
"Nervous?" Fenrow's hand came up to lightly stroke her knee, a fond smile curling the ends of his lips. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss at her temple, the contact like a searing brand. It took everything in her not to flinch away, though the zip ties across her ankles and wrists made actual movement impossible. "Don't be. We've got a long drive ahead of us, so you might as well get comfortable."
He stroked her throat with featherlight touches before sliding his hand down to do the same along her arms. She let her eyes unfocus and put her efforts into regulating her breathing.
Libby hadn't seen Galen since Fenrow had scooped her into his arms and carried her through the gloomy library. At first, she thought the dark-haired man had likely taken another vehicle, but as the partition slid open and Fenrow exchanged a few words with the driver, another disguised guard, she'd spotted him.
Galen was in the passenger seat, engrossed in whatever he was reading on his tablet. The only thing Libby could occasionally make out on the screen was a series of indistinguishable numbers and diagrams.
What must've been an hour passed in silence. Exhaustion was creeping in, and Libby kept finding herself on the verge of passing out. She had to strain to stay awake; the idea of falling asleep in front of these men made her ever-present fear lodge even deeper in her chest.
Libby had foolishly hoped the guards would eventually get used to her, maybe even become desensitized to her presence. It seemed Fenrow, however, had other plans. At some point he'd started playing with her nipples, alternating between agonizingly slow pulls and punishing pinches.
The more Fenrow played with her breasts, the more Libby became aware of the rippling waves rising from the body of each guard. The air around them seemed to pulse and distort, wavering like steam rising from hot pavement.
Stress. This had to be a byproduct of her stress. That was the only explanation for what she was seeing. God knew she'd been under more than she'd ever been in her entire life.
It was then that Fenrow finally spoke.
"As of this evening, Galen and I have officially claimed Libby as our concubine. My brother and I wanted to take a moment to thank you for your efforts over the past few months."
Their concubine. Brothers. They were siblings, which raised as many questions as it answered. Their faces certainly bore some resemblance, though Galen's dark hair and olive tone made Fenrow's appearance seem all the more stark, as if the color had been leeched out of his hair and his fair skin.
"Libby's virginity was promised to us, yet she defiled herself before we could claim it." He sighed, as if this were all very exasperating and inconvenient. "If you can imagine, my brother and I are heartbroken. As much as it pains us to do this, we must take extreme measures. It falls to us to correct Libby for her crude behavior and to ensure she understands her new status."
A bad feeling, separate from the others already churning in her veins, was beginning to unfurl in the pit of her stomach.
"We want you to know that neither my brother or I blame you for her actions. She made a choice, and none of that has any bearing on your performance." She distantly recognized that Fenrow was petting her head, which only built her sense of unease.
"Now, since you were the ones primarily responsible for her safety, we think it's only fair that you are rewarded for your exceptional service. I'm sure it's been a temptation to watch her day in and day out without getting to sample her for yourselves. So, in recognition of your efforts—and until we reach Nova Scotia—all of you are free to use her cunt as you please. It's not like Galen or I have a use for it anymore."
An outraged cry left her lips, but it was quickly cut off as a heavy blow cracked across her battered backside.
Two chips of ice bore down on her, daring her to continue. She bit down on her inner cheek hard enough to draw blood and wrenched her eyes away from his icy stare.
She barely had time to feel the first spike of dread sink in before he started speaking again.
"So gentlemen," Fenrow said, addressing the group once more. "You will have exclusive access to her cunt, and only her cunt, until we reach the portal. As this opportunity may or may not present itself again, I suggest you take advantage of it while you can."
Fenrow continued to address the men, but his words washed over Libby without meaning. She was fairly certain she was about to pass out. Would have already done so, if Fenrow hadn't been harshly tugging on a dusty pink nipple to keep her present. He gave it a sharp twist, and she nearly lurched out of his lap. The steel band of his arm came around her middle, and he made a soft sound of admonishment.
"Come now, sweetheart. I need you to be good for me again. Can you do that?"
Libby was already shaking her head, but Fenrow wasn't looking at her. He braced his shoulders against the double doors and rolled Libby onto her back until her head rested against the center of his abdomen. He drew her knees towards her chest and reached around, trailing his hands past her hips. Cool fingers hooked onto each side of her cunt and pulled, spreading her open until every part of her was on display to eight hungry gazes.
Every woman has considered what they would do if they were faced with a situation that deprived them of their autonomy. How hard they would fight, how much they would emotionally distance themselves, how far they would go to get away. Perhaps they even thought they would reach a point where their tears would dry up and there would be nothing left to give.
Libby thought she'd be stronger. Be able to compartmentalize and distance herself from everything. However, faced with unthinkable degradation and humiliation, she knew, with soul-shattering clarity, that she'd been mistaken.
She wasn't strong. She wasn't brave.
She was just a scared woman alone in a van with eleven terrible men.
Libby had started sobbing again, ugly tears rolling down her cheeks and drenching her collarbone. Her face was red and splotchy, adrenaline surging through her veins like trapped wildfire, stifling and sick and wrong.
The first man to her right stood from his seat, prowling towards her as he freed his cock, already fully erect in his hand.
Reality came to a screeching halt. What she saw hit her like a punch to the gut and confirmed fears she didn't even know she had.
Just below a defined stomach, what looked like ropes of muscle covered the length of his heavy shaft, the tip tapering to a point that angled towards the ceiling. It was an angry purple at the end, most of the surface corded with webs of twitching veins. Libby's mouth went dry when she spotted a slitted opening on the underside of his bulbous head. It pulsated like a small, gasping mouth and leaked a steady line of thick pre-cum.
Libby frantically shook her head, trying to roll herself away, but Fenrow's arms caged her in on either side. She could only stare as it came closer, the world bleeding away and narrowing to that grotesque, inhuman cock.
The guard knelt in front of her, his knees brushing against her backside. Every hair on her body rose as he pressed his pointed head against her dry folds, only to hesitate when he couldn't slide in.
Fenrow chuckled and gave her a pat on her flank, which only served to remind her of the plug he'd slipped into her bottom before they'd left the library.
"She's going to need some help, I'm afraid," he said, circling her opening with a finger. "Finish on her cunt and slick her up for the others. You'll have plenty of chances to use her again once she's nice and wet."
The monster fisted his cock in his hand and began to work himself above her exposed center. Libby let her eyes fall shut, unable to watch what was about to happen. A sharp crack followed by a bloom of pain along her flank made her eyes fly open and another cry escape her lips.
"Keep your eyes open," Fenrow said in a voice so menacing it made her breath hitch. "How can you learn a lesson if you aren't watching what happens to girls who throw away their virtue? You made your cunt worthless, Libby. Now you get to see what we do with worthless cunts in our world."
Libby stared up at the guard above her warily. He was moving his hand in rapid, jerking movements along his shaft, his heavy breaths audible through his mask. Though she couldn't see his face, she could feel the heat of his gaze burning through his glasses. A chill ran down her spine when she realized she could make out two glowing spheres from behind the tinted lenses, a neon yellow that only cemented her belief that none of these men were human.
Did that mean Galen and Fenrow were monsters too? Just because they looked human clearly didn't mean shit. Her world had been upended in a single night and she doubted she truly understood where any of the pieces fit anymore.
The man above her hissed his release, and a white slurry of cum splashed across her parted folds in stringy ropes. The twisted bands of muscle that formed his unnatural cock pulsed in time with his orgasm, the slit along the base flaring open with each spurt. His fluids scorched her core, and a strange prickling sensation made a shocked, repulsed gasp slip from between her clenched teeth.
The guard shook the last few drops from his pointed head and rose to his feet. Fenrow beckoned to the next man to approach, nodding when the man notched himself at her opening.
"Tell me if she closes her eyes," he said to the new guard. Fenrow leaned down and whispered in her ear. "If you do anything beyond a blink, know there will be consequences." Without waiting for an answer, Fenrow's hands came up to her backside and fully supported her weight as he lifted her lower body off the floor.
Libby was suddenly claustrophobic, and a streak of vertigo made her feel lightheaded. Above her, the guard acknowledged Fenrow with a curt tilt of his chin. The walls of the van were too close, the breaths of the men too loud. She couldn't do this. She couldn't—
The guard shoved inside her in one fluid stroke. She cried out in disbelief, her pussy fluttering helplessly around the massive intrusion. Her eyes nearly closed on their own, but she fought to keep them open, forced to watch her horrified expressions play out across the lenses of his sunglasses. At first he thrust into her slowly, his movements teasing and exploratory. But all too soon, his thrusts became impatient, the burning length harshly driving into her unprepared cunt.
Libby whimpered, the cock stretching her to the point of discomfort. She was past her limit, too sore and too full from both the plug and his vile cock. An unpleasant mix of hot and cold was brewing in her center, and she shied away from trying to interpret her turbulent feelings. Above, Fenrow was watching her, a lascivious grin stretched wide across his too-perfect face.
A grunt punctuated the guard's orgasm, hips pumping into her as he moaned and finished himself off. With a deferent bow to Fenrow, he pulled out, rocked back on his heels, and shook off his cock above her soaked mons.
Fenrow slid a bent leg under her back to support her before moving to drag his fingers through her drenched folds. He found her clit and started rubbing the little nub with the pad of his thumb. Trapped between his legs with nowhere to go, she could only lie there and take it. He masturbated her gently, circling and flicking and lightly scraping it with his nail. Every attempt to twist away only pressed her into his obscene touch, her protests reduced to cries that only seemed to encourage him.
A chilling realization slammed into her without warning. She hadn't bothered to take the pill since she'd broken up with Brandon, and that had been almost three weeks ago. When she'd told him about her stalker, he'd been more useless than the police and had stopped coming over to her apartment. In those last few days before they'd broken up, her stalker—or stalkers in this case—had become much more aggressive. They'd intentionally moved her possessions around to scare and confuse her, had stolen several pairs of her underwear, and flooded her apartment with LED headlights every night at three A.M.
They weren't human, she reminded herself. She wasn't sure if that was true for Galen or Fenrow, but they had made it clear they wouldn't use her pussy. There was no way she could get pregnant.
She clung to that hope and prayed it was true.
A second man replaced the first, his cock more swollen than the last. Like the others, it was gratuitous and grotesquely deformed, the bulging network of veins the most prominent she'd seen so far. He sank into her used pussy with ease, the cum from the previous man flooding out with a wet squelch.
Fenrow didn't let up on her clit, his other hand still supporting her lower back. A dark cast of contemplation shuttered his features, his nostrils flaring as he took in her distant eyes.
"There it is. The first sign of recognition. You're finally realizing what you're here for, aren't you? Yes, that's right. We can and will let anyone we choose use your cunt. In a way, I suppose you've done us a favor. This useful little cunt will be perfect for entertaining our friends and allies."
The second man laughed as he came, relishing Libby's horrified expression as he let several jets spray across her lower belly, then plunged back inside to give her the rest.
At some point, her tears had stopped, and now her body was gradually betraying her little by little. With Fenrow's careful ministrations and a steady stream of cocks incessantly ramming into her pussy, the strain in her core was turning into a rising heat that made fresh shame curl and bleed through her like poison.
The guards were blending into one another, and she no longer saw them as different people. They were just the masked assailant, a twisted cock filling her to her limit, black glasses reflecting her flushed, anguished face.
Fenrow didn't stop teasing her clit, not once. It was glazed with so much cum she couldn't even see it, but his fingers deftly stroked her until she finally came with a weak cry on the fifth cock. Her walls clenched around the ridged length and wrung the shaft dry, mortification chasing on its heels and spearing right through her center.
When she felt herself slipping into that hazy space between consciousness and oblivion, a cock was jammed into her mouth and shoved down her throat. She gagged violently, her useless hands scrabbling to push it away. Fingers pinched her nose and cut off her air, spiking her panic higher. A hand brusquely slapped her cheek before sinking into the hair at the back of her head and forcing her head up and down, feeding her more and more of the swollen organ.
She started drifting into the abyss again, fairly certain that a sixth cock had just entered her pussy. The one in her mouth pulled back, allowing sweet air to rush into her lungs. Blinking past tears, her eyes focused on Fenrow's calm face, his hard length still fisted in his hand and covered with her saliva. Her eyes were blurring with tears, but she could tell there was something very wrong with his cock.
"Tsk, tsk. You closed your eyes, love. I told you not to do that." She had. She'd closed them when Fenrow had made her come. He wiped a stray tear with a knuckle from under her eye. "I have to admit," he said with a sigh, "you aren't very good at this. Your ass did a much better job of taking me." At her burning glare, he gave a derisive snort. "Alright, alright. I suppose your throat will have to do for now."
Fenrow fisted her hair again and pulled her mouth back down to his cock. Every time she tried to get a better look at it, he would give her a reprimanding slap across her rear and agitate the plug inside her ass. The bumps and ridges she could feel along her tongue and the roof of her mouth confirmed one thing, however. Fenrow wasn't human. And if Fenrow wasn't, then neither was Galen.
Hours passed. Black uniform bled into black uniform, and it was impossible to track how many times each man used her. The only thing she knew for sure was that most of them had gone several times. When Fenrow finished in her throat the first time, he'd pushed past the ring of resistance and emptied himself directly into her stomach. The second time, he'd covered her eyes with his hand and finished on her breasts, rubbing it into her skin and telling her how pretty she was.
She didn't know when, but Galen had started filming them on his tablet, telling Libby that he would play it at the 'unification rite' in a few days. An event that everyone in their 'community' would attend. She forced herself not to think about it. If she let her thoughts drift to such terrible places, she would start sobbing again, and if she did, she didn't think she would ever stop.
Libby blinked open bleary eyes, realizing she must've passed out at some point. The few moments of stolen sleep had been too brief a reprieve, the harsh reality of her circumstances scorching away the lingering vestiges of an senseless dream.
It took her a few seconds to realize the van was travelling on a bumpy stretch of road, sharply jostling her with each dip and rise. The motion made a soft cry leave her lips, the rocking of the vehicle only exacerbating the throbbing ache blooming between her legs. No one had bothered to clean her up, her well-used cunt still soaked with semen. A puddle of it had gathered beneath her and leaked onto the floor, plastering her backside to the foam.
Before nausea could strike, her body suddenly pitched to the side and arms came around her middle, pulling her upwards until a hard chest supported her. Fenrow.
"Welcome back, Libby. You have impeccable timing. We're almost there." A wavy lock of his snowy hair had fallen across his unlined forehead, somewhat softening his predatory countenance. "Now, a fair warning. Once we go through the portal, you're likely going to see some things that may scare or even confuse you. Probably a bit of both. But no lasting harm will come to you if you follow my orders. In fact, if you open your mind to it, you might even find moments of pleasure in your new life."
Like all the others, Libby did not, could not, consider the implications behind those words. She stared at the floor and avoided their gazes. The guards may have been sated for now, but she didn't want to risk reigniting their lust.
Belatedly, she realized her zip ties were gone. They must've been off for some time, for the red marks they'd left behind had already faded to faint blemishes.
A spark of hope flared in her chest, though her rationality quickly crushed it beneath its heel. Even if her arms and legs were free, it hardly made a difference. She was still naked in the middle of nowhere with a van full of monsters.
"It's going to be cold outside, so Galen will carry you as we climb the rest of the mountain. Don't worry, he'll make sure you stay warm."
She didn't comment as the van came to a stop. Them carrying her up a mountain aside, she was uncertain if spending time with Galen was better or worse than with Fenrow. Both were terrifying in their own right. From what little she'd observed about them, Galen was egotistical and didn't shy away from cruelty, but was otherwise impassive if she cooperated with him. It was Fenrow whose moods were unpredictable: saccharine sweet one moment, devious the next.
A crucial fact remained. Whatever supernatural shit was going on, she struggled to understand where she fit into it.
One of the guards tossed Fenrow a heavy blanket. He deftly caught it, covered her head, and began wrapping her until she lost the use of her arms and legs.
When Galen opened the rear doors, Fenrow passed her over and helped settle her in his brother's arms. It was dark outside and likely very early in the morning, maybe an hour from sunrise. The crescent moon was low in the west, and the stars were the brightest she'd ever seen them. This far removed from humanity, streaks of gold and bronze threaded space dust through the inky sky, and meteorites, too many to count, shot across the endless vista.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the guards erupt into plumes of black smoke and disappear like wisps on the wind. Her head snapped back to get a better look at them, but Galen was already striding towards the treeline, fresh snow crunching under his feet. Her eyes went wide as she realized Galen was walking barefoot, the tips of his toes ending in long, sharp claws.
Galen was unbelievably fast, leaping from outcropping to outcropping, taking them higher up the rocky cliffside. Below, an ocean of evergreen firs mingled with other deciduous trees, their boughs varying shades of black and grey in the wan light of the moon.
Libby should have been freezing, but she was warm. Almost too warm. Galen was a furnace, sweltering heat rolling off him in an unrelenting torrent. He wasn't much of a talker, which was fine with her, and his eyes remained fixed on some distant point above them. Libby didn't know if she'd hallucinated it, but the one time Galen had glanced down at her, she'd sworn she'd seen flames surging in the depths of his eyes.
She'd lost sight of Fenrow in the pre-dawn gloom some time ago. Her last glimpse of him had been brief, a ripple of white hair she'd seen scaling up and over a rocky outcropping before disappearing from view.
The portal was, in fact, an actual portal.
At first, she didn't know what she was looking at. It was just a black hole in the side of the mountain, a place the light of the moon didn't penetrate. However, the longer she stared, the more she realized it was a perfect oval, a twenty-foot section of rock precisely cut away from the cliff face.
Galen's arms tightening around her was her only warning as he bent his knees and launched them fifty feet skyward, hurtling them directly into the center of the abyss.