The Loop

I woke up on a movie set. Again. Somehow I remembered everything now. The crime threads were leading me to an old hotel. Casey leading me. I collected memories, visions, echoes. Fragment by fragment. I followed him... We didn't meet in the alley today. Maybe Alex was already dead. The small lobby of the old building was flooded with warm light. I bypassed the luggage carts with boxes blocking the entrance to the staircase and went up to the next floor. New dusty corridors awaited me. A cycle. I wandered between endless hangers, suitcases, musty paintings and trash as if in a maze. It should have smelled old and musty. But I couldn't smell anything, like I wasn't breathing. Was this place real? Who created it? I got lost. I'm at a dead end, filled with props. I need to make my next edit. Open a path further into the wing. Deeper into the darkness. Write a new narrative. I pulled a sheet of paper from my bag. Hands unsteadily crossed out familiar words, scribbling others again. Mark after mark. I had to get the text right. The world shook. I did it. I felt the ether vibrate. I saw how, in a moment of flickering light, the scenery changed, depicting a new scene in the production. Everything changed. Red light flooded the mottled walls of the hallway. At the end, instead of boxes an open door now gaped open. It called, beckoned, and demanded that I enter. My feet tread gingerly on the soft, faded carpet. I plunged into the darkness. I floated in it, floundering among the junk, wading forward. My lantern was a beacon to cut through the dense gloom. At the end of the old-fashioned room another door shone with a halo of dim light. Muffled moans came from the second room. I stepped gingerly inside. My eyes were fixed on an incredible scene. Beautiful and disturbing at the same time. The crimson room was in semi-darkness. Candles arranged in a circle cast quivering, bizarre shadows on the walls written with cultist invocations. The reflections played on a beautiful figure suspended in the center, standing out marble pale against the bloody background. The faint beam of a lamp beneath the ceiling illuminated her with a theatrical soffit. The deep Rembrandtian shadows gave the picture a resemblance to a painting. My appearance made the body on the ropes sway, and hundreds of bright lights flickered across his skin, glistening with sweat. Wet russet hair clung to her forehead, almost covering her eyes. His head tilted downward, hiding facial features. Quiet sighs and muffled sobs erupted from his heaving chest. The naked, sturdy body was bound by ropes in an ornate, knotted pattern that went to the ceiling. Stubby arms raised up and locked as if in supplication. Knee-bent legs, tightly sheathed, spread apart. Below the contracting abs, a swollen, throbbing cock protruded beneath a neat growth of curly hair. The slender, almost waxy body resembled a statue frozen in impulse. Erotically tantalizing, curved in a dramatic pose by a ruby network of fetters. A martyr to the infernal gods. I recognized that shibari pose. A prickling inside. The man's tense belly was mottled with the white marks of dozens of hands that had tortured his body for the ritual. Long, jagged streaks of lashing had left his thighs red. His strong shoulders and back were adorned with golden streaks of wax, striving toward his clamped nipples. My mind shook with confusion. It was like breathing in fresh air after the stench. I was swept up in a whirlwind of sensations, smells, and sounds. I could hear his breathing very clearly, smell the musky odor of his sweat, the resinousness of the candle burn, the honeyiness of the wax, and the fresh tart spice of... Semen? Semen spilled at my feet. I looked down. There it was. White clots puddled on the symbols carved into the floor. Suddenly, the hovering man raised his head. A wave of fear and confusion washed over me. From the cheekbone face stared clear blue eyes that burned through my soul. Alex Casey. Has Scratch really caught him? — Is this your perfect work of art? — Casey growled hoarsely, staring me straight in the face. — The warped, slutty fantasy of a prophet..... — What? — my throat is dry. I would never write that. Not humiliate. The darkness had already reached a new chapter. — You're a cult leader. I saw it in your eyes. The depravity. Your novels are filled with filth... How many more will be tortured and killed by sick bastards following your Bible of fornication? Pervert! — No! — I suddenly pleaded. — It's Scratch! Scratch, — he was wrong. Scratch took my form. He fixed my book. — You tortured me here hour after hour, made me come. Whipped me, poured hot wax on me, choked me, raped me, used me, fucked me! I almost forgot there was pain. Every page of your books has lust between the lines, — he inhaled deeply. — Is this what you really want? Are you ready to find out, — Casey suddenly sobbed.        He shivered. The veins in his temples swelled with tension. His face contorted in a magnificent agony of pleasure. A tiny drop of sweat fell from his forehead to his chest. Veins showed under the skin. A hot white stream splashed over me. I held my breath and hesitantly moved closer. My hand slid from his shoulder down over the dull crust of wax, scraping away the frozen droplets. The wax melted under the heat of my palm, leaving a honeyed viscosity on my fingers. They flew down his breasts, trailing tight clips over her nipples and below, playing across the delicate relief of body, collecting sweat at the tips. An elusive, tainted beauty. A work of art. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to feel the tenderness of a human underneath instead of the cold of typewriter keys. Alex was obediently silent. I don't even know why. His heavy breathing fanned the flames in my soul. I squeezed his thigh, digging into his skin. It felt unbelievably good to touched him. My chest shook as if a bottle of champagne had exploded, flooding me from the inside out with excitement and shame. A storm washed over me, drowning my mind in inky waves. Maybe he was right. I loved the sight of his spread thighs bound with scarlet rope. I liked the rounded firmness of his buttocks where my palm rested on them. I liked the small uncircumcised cock sticking out. Casey was right. Desire. It oozed onto the pages of the book, just as it was now oozing from the cum-filled head I was dying to lick. Scratch wasn't correcting my words. He corrected me. I was too eager to know what he tasted like. I dropped to my knees and felt his seed soaking the fabric of my pants. Alex hissed and jerked nervously as I grabbed with my mouth his head. I hadn't been careful. He wiggled in tight bonds under my caress. Every touch of my wet tongue against the sensitive frenulum. Which of us was the seductive snake? Delicious taste. I savored it, sucking on his flesh. I'd never wanted to take a man's cock in my mouth before. I swallowed greedily, savoring every last drop. My palms rested on his thighs, squeezing his skin, stroking his groin, his tight, tense scrotum. Alex sighed with increasing intensity, struggling in the noose like a gentle bird. He moaned, throwing his head back and forth, shrieking from my efforts. His strong-willed voice quavered with exhaustion. His body was exhausted from the torture. How many times had he come? The still hard cock protruded excitedly. My tongue circled every vein, licked the delicate dimple, and played with the frenulum. I kissed his balls leisurely. Like an animal, my teeth clawed at the silk cord around them. I was covered in cold, dripping sweat from my heated body. I sucked hard, making him sob with difficulty, trying to get air into his lungs. The sounds only made me press my nose against his curly pubic hair, happily inhaling the musky scent. I rubbed my face against the hot cock, smearing the copious amounts of lube that had dripped down my cheeks. My own cock was swelling. The pants were tight. My hands gripped the ropes, rocking his body from side to side, letting myself be pendulum fucked in the mouth. Alex was right. I was overcome by a wild desire. It was something I was afraid to even tell myself... I always wanted to see someone else fucking my wife. Another hard cock entered her. But it wasn't about Alice. I know that now. It was about what I wanted. To feel another man's cock. Hard, throbbing, oozing in my mouth. To squeeze it in my palms until it spurted cum. My hands roamed madly over the wiry body. I cupped Casey's firm ass, enjoying the resistance of the muscles. Awe-struck sighs erupted and I echoed them with sweet mooing. My fingers moved to the delicate ring of his anus, unexpectedly hitting the scotch. Alex twisted suddenly. I felt for a slightly protruding ribbed object. A vibrator that presses mercilessly on his prostate. Taped to prevent the body from rejecting it. I was scorched with heat. I tore off the tape in a fit. Under the pressure of his cramped abs, it fell into the palm of my hand. Hot and wet. I desperately wanted to insert it back into the trembling, tender entrance. I was electric, my lower abdomen twisting with excitement. Just thinking about it made my own cock throb in my pants. It felt like I was about to come as well. Casey mooed harshly, his whole body shaking. Wild fantasy images flashed before my eyes. It was as if I remembered how I'd enjoyed dropping hot drops of wax on his pale skin, leaving little light burns. How I'd beaten him with a whip until he cursed incessantly. I didn't want to resist anymore. Was that what he wanted to tell me? My hand placed the toy gently against his sphincter and pushed it sharply all the way in. Casey screamed hysterically. But stopping wasn't the plan. I moved my hand up and down, penetrating his womb. My lips formed a tight ring around his throbbing cock, traveling from the head up the length of the shaft. He was sweating all over. Cold sweat trickled down his neck and cheeks, dripping onto my face. Alex was almost howling, flinching with every move I made. He was on edge. I taped back the strip of tape holding the toy in place and slapped his body hard. The palm of my hand landed on the beautiful roundness of his bottom. It felt insanely good. Like I'd spanked him before. His chiseled face slowly relaxed. It seemed like one more orgasm and he'd pass out. My juices were dripping from that image. I could feel the sticky moisture on my thigh. My hand was furiously unbuckling my belt. I clumsily tore off my pants, unwilling to let go of his bound body. My hand ran over the trembling skin, caressing my stomach and thighs. Without dismounting, I turned him around on the rope and sat down. My brain wasn't thinking. I couldn't think anymore. My aroused cock rested against the end of the vibrator, squeezing inward under the toy with a strain. Alex howled. And so did I. From the pressure that pressed with maddening tension. At the savage. I gasped in a rush, moving feverishly inside, trying to get under the rubber shaft. Waves of vibration stimulated my cock. It felt nightmarishly tight. Just a few more seconds and I'd come. I wrapped my arms around him, my forehead resting on his back. I pressed down, kissing the cold skin indiscriminately. Alex groaned in a rising moan, in time with my accelerating movements. His voice bounced with intoxicating notes. I didn't hide my sounds. Suddenly my wandering gaze fell on a white spot. A sheet of manuscript had fallen out of my bag. It was already corrected; I saw the marks. No! It flashed through my mind. Everything around me changed in an instant. ..... I ended up on the floor. Naked. Crucified. Scotch-taped to a cross-shaped rack in the center of the vortex the cultists had drawn. The lamps around me glowed scarlet neon, forming symbols at distorted angles. Melted candles spilled wax onto the floor and weeping from candelabras and walls. Scratch had tricked me! Between my spread legs lay Casey. He watched with rapt attention, pressing his hard cock against my sphincter. I cried out in pain and surprise. Alex had entered. He burst in and flooded me with his juicy. A bomb exploded inside me, burning me from the inside out. I couldn't tear myself away from his arrogant face. He thrust into my body with fierce jealousy. Back and forth, back and forth. Again and again and again. Like hellish Cerberus digging into my neck, leaving teeth marks and hickeys. Was he trying to get even? No. There were no marks on him from the last game. He just wanted me. I stared into his crazed face, his mouth contorted with effort. I liked what I saw. My straining cock lay on my stomach, stimulated by his hard abs. Alex grinned predatorily and I smiled and leaned back. Something snapped. Released to the outside. A different kind of intoxication. Opium poison. I wanted it to happen. I wanted to feel the way he knew how to fuck. Through pain to pleasure. It enveloped me, swallowed me whole, drowned me. Euphoria. I could hear his scrotum slapping against my skin. I was thrown into a fever of crazy sensations. Breaking under the electric shocks. I was sweating. Nasty drops ran under my hair. He licked the wet skin, absorbing the salty taste. He savored the virgin tightness of my anus. His neat head stretched the narrow entrance with every inch. All his movements caused a throbbing inside. A tingling. His cock pressed with every thrust, bringing us both closer to orgasm. I gasped for air under his thrusts. I was choking on darkness. "I am the Dark Place," — echoed silently around me. A few more minutes. The tension peaked. I was twisted. It felt as if the spasm would make me rip out the boards. Nerve impulses struck with the force of divine lightning. I screamed. I know, even though I couldn't hear myself over the gooey, squeaking sound of my relaxed ears. Semen poured onto my stomach, smeared against his skin. Casey's face was indescribable at the moment. Alex breathed heavily and grabbed my arms. He stretched across me, intertwining his fingers in my palms. Two rejects in the throes of passion. Instead of the pressure of friction, I felt a soft slide of wetness inside. Incredibly pleasurable. I wanted to do it again. And again. He came too. "I want to kill you, but I can't," — I read in his hazy blue eyes. Suddenly he kissed me for real, sweet and hard. And relaxing, he let his head fall on my chest. I finally caught the familiar scent of cologne. I looked up at the ceiling. A shadow was descending on us like a bottomless demon. The darkness pushed me under. And I pushed Alex into the abyss. I fixed my sketches over and over again. I'd never written sex before. Wasn't that what I was afraid of? I robbed Alex of his happiness every chance I got. I divorced him from his wife. I tortured him. Broke him. Killed him. But I couldn't let go. Alcohol, drugs, wild fans. I ran to Alice. But there was something in her eyes that made me howl. I broke down, I lost my temper, I poured out my hatred on everyone with my fists. At myself. I hated myself and begged for forgiveness. He was the only one I could trust with my thoughts. My own mind had created the perfect hero to fulfill my sick fantasies. Bringing him closer to what would happen with every stained page. Me to what happened. Immersing me in the twisted desires hidden deep within. The darkness poisoned me. Swallowed me whole. I woke up on a movie set. Again...