by E M Beastly
Kalina chuckled and replied, "You make assumptions fast, but you're not entirely wrong. You see, I've been told that there is nothing under those gravestones. In fact, most of the graves in this whole place are empty. The headstones are just markers for those who have disappeared. This place is more of a memorial of sorts."
"Disappeared?" I had to inquire.
"Surely you have heard the stories? About all the strange disappearances that have taken place in this small town? They have been going on for over a century."
"No...I don't know anything." I replied in quiet shock. I immediately assumed she was teasing me. Nonetheless, doubt arose in my mind. Had I not appropriately researched my new home? A secret I should have researched before choosing to move here.
Kalina laughed at my reaction and then added. "Don't worry about it, they're just stories. You find a lot of them around here. This is just one of them... Anyway, I don't know what the statue is about. He's quite kinky if you ask me."
I ended up smirking at that remark. I want to think it was because it was amusingly weird to see a statue of any kind with such a phallic display. Not because when I looked at this surreal and masculine image that it stirred inappropriate feelings. Like a child, I was a bit immature around him. It was like my first time lauding at the nakedness of the statue of David and how it was just there for everyone to see. However, Michelangelo made art, this I wasn't so sure about. Every time I was amazed how this onyx statue seemed to change shape by simply switching my perception of him. It was the dandiest magic trick I ever saw.
"Anyway…" Kalina continued, "I may not know what he is about, but… there are stories to tell if you're not so scared to hear them?"
"Sure... What's a cemetery without its ghost stories?" I replied in a way that hid my discomfort of discussing such things. By this time, I had already walked this path several times over the course during the first month since moving my studio into one of the many empty rooms of Kalina's old home. I would like to say that I had grown used to the perils of this path and the way it made me feel, but alas, only my words held courage.
"Well, it's said that if you come out here by yourself at night, you might just find a new headstone leaning up against that statue with your name on it. If you do, well, then the Nightsteed will come after you. That while you sleep, he will come into your room and haunt your dreams like the night terror he is. Then he will fly off with you into the night and you never will be seen again."
"You're making this up as you go aren't you?" I said with a tease.
"No, no. I swear. That's the story, or at least one of them." Kalina replied.
I wasn't sure if her sincerity was sarcastic or not.
"It's the reason I don't walk this cemetery at night," she finished.
"Ok, now I know your joshing me. You're saying you have lived here how many years and never once been here at night. Please... You walk through here like its nothing, while I still haven't gotten over my heeby jeebies."
"Would you believe I never have been through here by myself until I met you? I always wanted to, but I didn't want to come alone. And now that I have seen him, it was worth it. I wouldn't mind being carried off by him, if you know what I mean."
"I don't believe it." I said bluntly. "No really, you're shitting me. I've seen your house, don't give me this shit. You've probably got at least twelve boogieman stories just for it. And if you don't, I could make up a few. This place has just got to be a walk in the park for you."
Kalina had to force herself to keep a serious face, but I could see through her bluff easily as she went on to goad me into a challenge.
"Alright then," she followed suite, still trying to be just as serious as she could be, "Then why don't you come here tonight by yourself? You can stay extra late at my place working on your art, and then you must walk home alone through this cemetery while it is still dark. I will give you some bright ribbon, so by tomorrow when we walk together again, I will know if you succeeded if I see that ribbon tied to that onyx penis."
"His penis?" I had to ask, with the utmost dumbfounded look. "Why his penis, you pervert?"
"Well, if you're going to be out here with him, we got to have some fun and entertainment to amuse ourselves."
"By putting ribbons on a penis?" I continued, still dumbfounded.
"Sure, it's not like anyone else is going to see it right? Or are you some sort of prude? I mean, come on, he is the one thing that brightens up this gloomy place: An ironic twist to an otherwise bleak setting. We might as well make it just a bit brighter don't you think. Besides, I think he could use a bit of color."
"That's cute." I hesitantly replied, not really knowing how it was best to do so without seeming like I was a prude.
"What? You're not going to do it? Ah come on, don't be such a scaredy cat. At least be a bit more amused by the idea." Kalina continued to tease. "Besides that, tonight is another full moon. What better time to try something so... oh what's a good way to describe it? ...Adventurous!"
"Then why don't you do it?" I retorted, "I mean you have been here long enough. You should be the first. So don't give me shit about being scared."
Kalina just giggled intensely instead of retorting me, and it made me look at her strangely. Finally, I caved and awkwardly gave a small chuckle myself as I asked, "Ok, what's so funny?"
"Well, it's just that... I think you will do it." She said with a matter of fact attitude that still held her chuckling and grinning facade. "You see, every time we make the walk to my house you have to come see him. Sure, it was my idea initially to show you this interesting bit of history, but since then you haven't protested once. You only groan and whine a little after the fact, that is until we get to see him. He's the only part of this shortcut your not in a hurry to pass."
"Well...so what. Again, it's not like you're much different." I retorted again.
"Except I'm not as uncomfortable as you walking through this place; just more cautious." she quickly responded. She then paused before adding, "I didn't make up the story. It's true, if you're willing in believe in such things. Also, I was the one who dared you first. If you don't, then I won't let you leave and you'll have to stay the night at my place. And I know you are just as uncomfortable with doing that."
"Well at least I wouldn't have to tie anything to a penis. Besides, why are you so adamant that I do this?"
"So that you will come to my place anytime you want, silly. Then I wouldn't have to hold your hand all the time, and you could get more done without having to spend most the day walking the long way to my house."
It was then I knew I caught her in her bluff, or at least the part about her never being here alone. Nonetheless, what she said did make sense. The long route was so much longer. Why the main road had to take such an indirect route to her house I couldn't guess, but the time it took to walk up it, and down again in the evenings, did cut out time I could be spending on my canvases and paints. Besides, it was just a cemetery; an old bit of land that the dead were buried. The dead couldn't hurt the living, and what was a lewd statue of some pagan horse god anyway?
I spent the evening thinking about it as I went to work painting a beautiful scene behind Kalina's home. That was another benefit to her place; it has some of the greatest mountain scenes for me to gain inspiration from. Just behind her house there seems to be an entire country all to itself, with its vast meadows and a gorgeous lake that is unfathomably cold and deep. I don't think I will ever run out of things to paint. It made me think about how convenient it would be if I would just get over my irrational fears. Sure the cemetery was gloomy, spooky and scary; Kalina's home being equally so. Nonetheless, I had to admit that it added to the mystique of this strange place. Light and darkness intermingled to create a beautiful twilight. I had my inspiration for the epic high fantasy I loved to paint, while in the shadows I was getting inspiration for some kinky horror.
So by late that evening I finally and hesitantly agreed, and not because I was pestered into i
t either. I think any outside observer would disagree with me on that, because did Kalina make it her duty to ask me if I would do this thing whenever she could. She even came to me with the colored ribbon whilst I painted a thunderous scene full of dragons. The ribbon was a god-awful neon pink.
It wasn't until it was good and dark outside, and with a bright full moon hanging over the mountains, did I prepare myself and step out with the ribbon in hand. I can tell you I had strong second thoughts about this endeavor and nearly took to taking the long way home like always when I traveled alone. However, I had never stayed this late at Kalina's. In the dark glow of the full moon, even this path seemed terrible and frightening. I turned back to look at the looming estate. Kalina must have gone to bed shortly after I left to discourage me from returning. Not that I wanted to, for in the gloom it was far more terrifying than the unseen road before me. Her house now stood as a dark monolith. It's windows lightless and still; if Kalina was watching me from one of them I couldn't tell in the shadowed weight the old, crooked placed now seemed to push down upon me. Things definitely take on a different perspective in the dark of night and under the beams of a haunting moon scattered by skeletal arms of all the nearby trees.
"God, what have I gotten myself into," was all I could repeat to myself as I took the first precautious steps into that grave wilderness. I would have backed down sooner, but Kalina had done a rather good job of distracting me for the evening. She had me do a portrait of her. It had been a long time since I had painted the likeness of another person, let alone someone in the nude. It was funny painting something like that, but I put all my creative will into it just as I had with any of my landscapes. Kalina had the most interesting body for it too. She has a strong athletic body that I would suspect is accustomed to the work on a farm or a ranch. Somehow I got the distinct impressions she rode horses. She didn't own any, nor did I know of anyone close by who did. I painted her as an erotic Lady Godiva riding her way through the cemetery; naked and carefree; for that is how she always was regardless of how spooky her surroundings were.
I wish I had that same ability as her now. The flashlight she gave me was hardly sufficient in helping me drive away the shadows that lurked all around me. Everything looked so different at night, and I almost lost my way. At one point I thought for sure I stumbled off the path; only to nearly trip on the hidden headstones I had become familiar with hidden in the weeds. The regular old names and dates of the long deceased peering up at me were nothing like the ones I was searching for near where Kalina wanted me to tie my dirty deed. I tried to hurry down the hill and through the thickets of that haunted place as quickly as I could without tripping or worse. The place was still and quiet, just as it was in its gloom of the day. I did not hear or see any animals, but I felt that I was always being watched. Interestingly, for how badly I wanted to make my way through that odd place, it somehow exhilarated me. I couldn't wait to get back home and somehow find a way to express this excited feeling. Perhaps in pencil or in pen I would draw rough sketches in a notebook for future reference of the ghastly terrain sprawled out before me, lit only by soft rays of the moon and my weak flashlight. I loved the lovely strands of spider silk glistening in the bony and gnarled tree limbs that looked like terrible claws reaching out to snatch me. The dark silhouettes contrasting deeply with the soft glow that outlined them and the swirling heavy mist that danced close to the ground all made me appreciate the dark beauty that I so wanted to escape from. Still, I was determined to find my prize before I escaped and prove to Kalina, and mostly to myself, that I could conquer my fears. All I had to do was push past the next set of willows and...
There he was! There she was! And who were all the others? The whole scene set up like a theatrical stage, and the moon acting like a spotlight. I counted three... no four woman; all naked and glittering in the moon's rays. They were all clamoring, clawing and climbing that onyx beast. I quickly coward back behind the willows and their shadows, not wanting to be seen. I thought I had already been caught for the willows were not far from where these girls were doing their thing, and these willow branches must have made enough of a rustling to alert them to me. Yet, it was strange that I hadn't heard them until now. I know I didn't because I remember reflecting on the serene quiet that surrounded and unnerved me as I made my way carefully through this grisly grotto. Now here in the moonlight these women were making a ruckus of erotic sounds that I should have heard easily long before even entering the confines of this haunted place.
I was terrified but also curious. I spent a good amount of time those first minutes huddling under the cover of those weeping willows. Hiding and shivering as I wondered what to do. Should I run? Should I calmly pretend I saw nothing and walk away? What about my ribbon? Was the task worth the effort now? Yet, most importantly, who were these girls and what exactly were they doing?
I couldn't see any of their faces; they either all had their backs turned to me, or their faces were in shadow. All I knew is that they huddled around that beastly statue and his flared horse-sized cock. They obviously were sexually endorsing themselves to him. Their movements were slow and sensual. Their moaning coos and delightful giggles were recognizable as ones that even I might make if I were in a frisky mood. My mind raced through a plethora of ideas. Maybe they were just a bunch of silly local girls with a weird fetish; the statue did have a big enough plaything, and this place's seclusion could make for some weird fetish games. Perhaps, they were members of a cult: A coven of witches coming here to do a pagan fertility ritual. Then, of course, the idea came to me that maybe I was seeing ghosts: Obviously, that was a silly idea, or it was until something else began to move in the moonlight.
"No, it couldn't be? I'm just seeing things. It's just the shadows and the light playing with each other," I kept telling myself while my growing curiosity made me ever more bold to strain my eyes into that erotic scene. Nonetheless, the longer I watched the more I swore that horse statue moved. Between the folds of soft skin and flowing braids of blonde, brown and brunette hair, I swore that the statue was swaying in a way that stone could not do. Only the movement of flesh heaving and flexing, stretching and squishing was capable of such a display.
"No, no, my eyes deceive me," I said to myself reassuringly. But then I saw his massive flopping cock no longer proud and pronounced in hard stone. Surely, again, my eyes are being deceived. I only saw the massive cock for but a small moment; these girls were all over it with their bodies and fingers. Yet, when they gave me a window to see, I am certain it rolled and bounced for them as they passed it around and slapped it against their naked flesh.
I had to come to terms with what I saw as real when I saw the tanned and weathered colored maiden with shapely curves to her frame climb up the body of the statue to lock her lips with that equine beast's. It would have been fine if she was just locking lips with a cold and motionless statue. Yet, this was no statue when it wrapped his warm, strong arms around her to embrace her back. It would have been a very romantic and touching scene, especially with the mighty harvest moon shining behind them. It was his beastly appearances and the many other girls clamoring around his ankles and his dangling cock that threw the scene into chaos. It fascinated and enthralled me. If it wasn't for the highly erotic and kinkiness of what I was about to witness, it would be the exact type of fantasy I would want to immortalize on canvas and paint.
I still couldn't see any of the girls faces yet, which was strange with all the light pouring out of the moon behind them. They brought a wickedly scandalous element to the bright moonlight romance. Their shadowed faces began to indulge in open oral sex with the beast and his mighty appendage. His cock swung seemingly limp and unexcited, but that did not harm either its impressive length or girth. It had plenty of surface area along its black shaft to have the three other girls find places to each lick and polish it to a glowing shine.
The two passionately embracing each other by lips and tongue moved from a romantic embrace to an erotic fornicat
ion game with their mouths. They licked, nipped and twirled their tongues together. The big horse creature won the game of push and tug, and in his victory moved from her mouth to lick down her cheeks. His black tongue stroked her open neck and continued down into her bosom. Her breasts bounced as the equine snout jostled between them. What began as simple intimacy turned into and orgy of touch between the two, and yes that is still with consideration to the others playing with his dangling bits.
However, for all that I saw and witnessed, and for all I could understand. I could not tell who these women were. They were black silhouettes in the moonlight with only hints of skin tone winking at me, adding beautiful color and contrast to this night's ritual of lust. All I could do was watch and be amazed at this dream I must be having. I couldn't explain this event as anything other. I tried, as I sat watching agasp with awe, terror and every other emotion the scene wanted to conjure inside me. I had heard that witchcraft was once a part of the old town, perhaps it was still. The statue could be a man in a costume or other some such ritualistic nonsense. If that were true, where was the real statue, and how could they have moved it?
The greatest mystery and assault on my senses was yet to unfold. As the scene dove deeper into its lewd display, I would gain a glimpse of one of the faces in the fray. It was the witch with her tongue twisting around that of the ebon beast. She was climbing higher and higher up his torso; grinding her hips against his abs and chest as she went. The beast was a mighty tower; a monolith even when cast in black stone. She, an empress being held by her throne above the others. He locked his arms around the back of her knees where she could hang in his grasp, perform her acrobatics, and lay herself across the open moonlit air with an arched back whilst her lover kissed her naked lips between her legs. Soon she was dangling upside down, her head not far from the base of his flaccid cock. The other girls quickly went about to caressing and kissing her face like it was some new prize. I could see a hint of her inverted smile on luscious and familiar lips. I almost thought I had been silently discovered by the way the contours of her face suggested she might be looking my way; but I could not say for certain.