Deep Blue

by Aishling Morgan

  He put it to his ear, his tension rising as first one, then another constable signalled that they were ready. With a final instruction to secure the lights as soon as possible, he stepped clear of the bracken and put his megaphone to his mouth. The music stopped with a grinding sound and he yelled out, ordering the crowd to stay put.

  Somebody screamed, another cursed and abruptly the lights went out. Once more Perkins yelled, calling for light and running forward as shouts and screams rang out on all sides. The mound was ahead, its bulk silhouetted against the sky. Figures could be seen, the grotesque octopus head, a tiny form, no bigger than a child. No light came, only the crash of equipment and a bass voice cursing the police, then laughing. Perkins swore, pushing aside a naked body, determined that whatever else happened he would catch the girl who had tricked him before.

  Aileve had felt a wave of panic at the blare of Perkins’s voice. Even as Nich cursed and pulled quickly from her body the memories came back, of the fat belly of Constable Weekes wobbling as he masturbated over her bowl of porridge, the taste of his cock in her mouth and of the sperm as she ate what he had done.

  She ran, stumbling as the lights went, falling across a naked body, rising and stumbling on again. Shouts were sounding on all sides, screams and curses, the flash of torches cutting through the dark. Again and again she struck people, until she had lost all sense of direction. Forcing herself to stop, she ducked low, fighting her panic. The moon was visible, a brilliant crescent. Using the flashes of the torch beams to find her way, she ran forward, crouching, down the slope and to the right, towards Aldon Head. Somebody bumped her and she felt naked flesh, hard and muscular. She grabbed for him, finding his arm, then a hand, which he took.

  They moved together, down among the bracken and gorse, the sharp points scratching her body as she went. The noise moved behind her, the flickering of the torches away, and slowly her heartbeat began to return to normal. Still she pressed on, following her companion’s lead, her eyes gradually adapting to the moonlight until she saw the pale reflected gleam on the surface of the sea, far below, beyond the cliff edge.

  ‘Shit!’ her companion swore suddenly. ‘We’ve come the wrong way. Who are you, anyway?’

  ‘Alice, and you?’

  ‘Topher. You’re Alice Chaswell, the scientist who’s going to open the barrow?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You are one hot lady. You were on the mound, with Tammy, yeah? Nice moves.’

  ‘Thank you. Do you think they will search here?’

  ‘Maybe, maybe not. Bastards, eh?’

  ‘How true.’

  Lights flared and Aileve flattened herself into the grass. Topher cursed and his arm came around her back, pressing her down and hugging her to his body. She watched, trembling as the spotlights were turned on to the mound and set to full width, bathing the area in brilliant white. Police were swarming over the grass, dealing with those partygoers too dazed or drunk to try to escape. They were in blackness, the scent of his body strong and male in her nostrils, his arm firm and protective about her shoulders. He had been in a girl when the raid began, a slim, white girl, much like her, bending for him as she accepted his cock from behind. Nich had been in her at the time, the same way, the way she liked best, with hard, male flesh pushing against the softness of her bottom.

  ‘Get on me,’ she said softly. ‘Take me like you took your girlfriend.’

  ‘Here? Now?’ he answered.

  ‘Yes, now, before they take us, if they do. Cover me, protect me.’

  He gave a grunt, maybe scepticism, maybe defiance to the police, then moved one heavy leg across her body. The other followed and he was on her, his cock thick and firm against her bottom, then between her buttocks as he moved. Aileve sighed and pushed herself up, feeling the firm meat slip deeper into her crease. He began to rut, his cock growing as it rubbed in her crease until its full length was jammed between her pert buttocks.

  ‘Lift it up,’ he whispered and his weight rose from her body.

  She obeyed, raising her bottom as his erection probed between her legs. His hand came down, guiding it, and then it had found the mouth of her vagina and was sliding inside, filling her as his weight once more settled on her bottom. He began to hump, pushing into her with little, sharp grunts, his front slapping on her bottom with each thrust. She was moaning, and squirming her bottom into him, with her pleasure once more rising to fill her head, as it had while she danced and made love, to Violet and to Nich.

  Pushing up, she forced a hand in under her belly, finding her sex. His balls were rubbing between her thighs, then slapping on her hand as she opened her legs and he came down between them. She began to masturbate, alternately clutching at his big, rough scrotum and rubbing at her clitoris. He kept moving, making her head swim with pleasure until she began to feel the rise of her approaching climax.

  ‘In, right in,’ she begged. ‘Push it in.’

  ‘You are one hot lady,’ he gasped and pushed the full length of his erection into her.

  The firm, hardness of his belly was pressed to her bottom, his cock filling her to the hilt. Grabbing his balls, she began to rub them, squeezing the big sac on to her vulva, and moving its contents over her clitoris. He grunted, pushing yet harder into her, and she began to rub faster, finding her rhythm, one big testicle bumping her clitoris, over and over, her mouth opening, her nipples tingling against the grass, and she was coming, biting the ground and panting, pushing her bottom up on to the intruding penis, over and over as he once more began to move inside her.

  She was still coming, riding her orgasm and rubbing herself as he grunted, jerked his cock from inside her and came over her. She felt his sperm splash between her buttocks and into the mouth of her vagina, then the firm rod of his penis as he pushed it into her crease and finished himself off, rubbing it between her buttocks in his own sperm. Aileve relaxed, letting him finish at leisure.

  He rolled off and she lifted her eyes again, finding the mound much as before, brightly lit, but with fewer people visible. These were scattered into groups, and seated, each with a police officer standing over them. Some were dressed, more clutching ill-matched clothes to their bodies. The beams of police torches could be seen to the side, searching the slope that led down towards the estuary.

  ‘They’ll wait on the roads,’ Topher remarked. ‘It’s only the organisers they want, and anyone who was dealing. Too much hassle to nick everybody just for stripping off, I reckon. They’ll take the clothes, though, just ’cause they’re mean bastards.’

  ‘There’s a way down,’ Aileve answered, ‘to the west and through Rocombe Woods, down to the sea. At high tide you can jump.’

  ‘Jump? How far?’

  ‘Thirty feet.’

  ‘Right. Well maybe, but we’ll still be naked, and wet. Anyhow, they know me and they know I was there. You go for it, if you’re crazy enough. I’ll stay here, and the longer they take searching for me, the better.’

  Aileve moved to kiss him, then rose into a crouch and left, moving through the black shadows of the gorse.

  Perkins flashed his torch along the line of a hedge. She was in there, he was sure, crouching among the foliage, doubtless scratched and bruised after her flight across the fields. By luck he had seen her leave, another policeman’s torch catching her as she ran north, down the slope of Aldon Hill towards Abbotscombe. He had followed, keeping her pale form in his beam, never letting her get too far ahead, yet never striving to close the gap between them.

  Now Aldon Hill was a black bulk to the south, the sounds of the continuing chase no more than noise fading on the light wind. He had her, he was sure of it. Linnet, a tiny woman, well under five foot and naked, could never outrun him. He had the torch as well, its beam enough to light his way and to blind her if she turned. She may run, but it would only add to the thrill of the chase. He would catch her, and when he caught her he would take his revenge.

  It would be good. He would take his belt to her first, across her
tight little arse, her legs and her back while he held her by the hair, teaching her the lesson she needed to learn, that nobody, but nobody, messed with him. Once he’d had enough and she was mewling on the ground, out would come his cock. He’d toss over her face, letting her know what was going to happen. She’d be spread, naked and bruised, plenty of material to wank over. He’d give her a facial, a spunk face scrub, just as he had to Ed’s Lil, and when he had come in her face he would rub it into her features.

  Again he flashed his torch, and this time he saw her, her eyes reflecting green like the eyes of the cat. He started forward and heard the rustle of the hedge as she darted away. He followed, crashing through a gap in the hedge and vaulting the fence at its heart. The field beyond was a sheet of liquid gunmetal in the moonlight, Linnet a pale ghost, already halfway across and running for all she was worth.

  Perkins followed with a sadistic leer, then with his teeth gritted as he forced himself to greater speed across the flat pasture. She was in plain sight, her legs flashing as she ran, her hair swirling behind her, her tiny buttocks moving in time. His muscles had begun to burn, yet he was gaining. She looked back, and cried out in despair as she saw how close he was. The waving torch beam caught her face for an instant and Perkins felt a new thrill as he saw her fear. He pushed himself harder, hoping to trap her against the far hedge with a last burst of speed.

  A gap in the hedge ahead became visible, a gate closing it off. Ahead of him Linnet abruptly changed her angle, darted for the gate and threw herself over it. Perkins followed, moments behind, only to clasp the top bar and realise that it was ringed with barbed wire.

  Cursing and shaking his injured hand, he scrambled after her. Again she had a good lead, and was heading towards the jagged black outline of a wood, down the slope. As he forced himself to greater speed he decided that a beating and his come in her face would not be enough. He would beat her, hard, and not just her rear but her front, too, her thighs and belly, her tiny breasts, until her whole body was red with welts. When he was done he would have a good feel, touching her up on her neat bottom and pert boobs, fingering her little cunt. Only then would he spunk in her face, and make her eat it on the threat of another beating.

  He was gaining again, and she was slowing, her tiny body unable to match his fitness and male stamina. The end would come soon, that much was certain, and it would probably come before the wood, where he could then drag her for her beating and spoiling. He was panting, the blood singing in his ears, but she was a mere ten yards ahead, then five, only for her to find the energy of sheer terror and once more move ahead. Perkins knew it was her last gasp of effort and kept his pace, pounding after her.

  She reached the wood, scrambling over a low wall. He followed, his torch catching the green and brown of trees and foliage, then the pink of her skin, feet away. Lunging forward, he felt his fingers on smooth skin, even as he stumbled and a branch lashed back across his face. He cursed, the falling torch catching her as she skipped away, briefly showing her naked belly and the black tangle of her pubic hair before she was gone.

  He rose, cursing and rubbing at his face. There was blood on his cheek, which brought new anger. As he set off he knew he would have to take it all the way, to beat her and feel every part of her body, to force her to suck his cock and finally to fuck her, down in the grass or leaf mould, her little thighs spread wide, his cock working in her tiny cunt as she whimpered out her misery and defeat.

  She was ahead, darting between the trees, her small size now an advantage. He pressed on, dogged, determined that she would never get the better of him. Again and again he lost sight of her, only to catch a glimpse of pale flesh or reflected green eyes. She was stupid, or too scared to think, never hiding but always trying to get further away, the reaction of blind panic. Twice he came within an ace of catching her, but both times she slipped away, always a hair’s breadth out of reach, until at length he reached the far side of the wood.

  Beyond was another field, Linnet standing not twenty yards away, panting, with her body bent and her hands resting on her knees. As she saw him she ran and he followed. His hat was gone, his face and hands were bloody with cuts, his muscles burning with the strain. None of it mattered, only the need to catch her and to teach her a lesson, to thrash her and fuck her, to ruin her and rape her.

  Ahead she was limping, missing steps with her right foot, and slowing. She had angled to the right, making for a dim line beyond which the spire of Abbotscombe church showed black against the night sky. Perkins pushed himself, realising that she meant to find a house, to seek sanctuary. Doubtless she had guessed what he intended, or at least feared it, and knew that if she could not avoid arrest she might at least avoid violation.

  She was yards ahead, but still running, seeming to go a touch faster each time he forced himself on. The far side of the field was coming closer, a low wall, beyond which was only the black of the night, distant trees and the church. He clutched for her and missed, his foot finding something soft and slippery with the next step. For a moment his balance was gone, but he regained it even as the rich, pungent scent of cow dung reached his nose. He could feel it on his leg and cursed her, telling himself that a mere cock in her cunt was not enough. No, he would fuck her, and make her suck, but when she thought her degradation had reached its depths he would bugger her. He would make her kneel and hold her little cheeks apart. He would make her grease her anus, as Ed had made Lil grease hers, but for Linnet it would be with juice pulled from her own cunt. He would bugger her, ramming his erection home into the tight sheath of her rectum. It would be tight, so tight, tighter even than Lil’s. She might split, and he wouldn’t care, he would come in her dirt box and make her suck the come and mess from his cock…

  He hit the wall, moments behind her. She was over, vanishing and he followed, vaulting high, out and into nothing. Panic hit him a moment before the ground. His ankle caught something hard, twisting and sending a jolt of agony the length of his leg. He screamed in pain as his shoulder struck hard earth, then his head, jarring his whole body. Rolling on to his back, he clutched his leg, his teeth gritted against the burning pain. The scent of cow dung and sour milk filled his nostrils, his body sinking into the filthy mud as he moved. Above was sky, and the wall, rearing a good twenty feet above him, and on the wall was Linnet, outlined black against the moon and laughing.

  ‘Bitch!’ Perkins hissed and scrabbled for the torch.

  He shone the beam up, finding her body. She was standing wide legged, the pink of her cunt visible in the light, her hands on her hips, her impish face set in an expression of cruel mirth. He cursed, trying to rise, only to collapse at the agonising pain in his leg. She laughed again, a shrill, high-pitched peal of delight. He lay back, panting, trying desperately to think what to do. Once more he shone the torch up, illuminating Linnet.

  ‘Look…’ he began, only to stop.

  There was no mercy in her face, no fear, no uncertainty, only a demented, evil glee. He drew his breath in against the pain, determined not to show weakness, but in response her mouth twitched in obvious derision.

  ‘Is this what you wanted, Sergeant?’ she asked, and her hand went to her sex, spreading the damp pink lips to show off the centre, her hole wet, her clitoris a gleaming bud where her tiny inner lips joined, the centre bulging. She sank down, squatting, her spread sex directly above him, and as he watched in horrified anger, a stream of golden liquid erupted from her vulva, spraying out in a long arc to splash down on him in tune to peal after peal of demented laughter.

  Thomazina sank down to the sand, going to her hands and knees in exhaustion. Beside her Nich also came to a halt, slumping full length on to the beach.

  ‘We’re safe, I’m sure,’ he panted.

  She nodded a response, thinking of the safe embrace of the sea and then deciding against it. In the darkness and chaos of the raid she had made for the cliff path, confident in her knowledge and the bright moonlight. She had made it, but found she was being follow
ed, first with fear, then relief as she had recognised Nich’s naked body. They had gone as fast as they dared, moving down into the shallow valley that cut Aldon Hill from the Ness, then to the tunnel mouth and so the beach. Her tension was draining, slowly, the lights and sounds still coming from Aldon Hill now seeming distant.

  ‘Who else made it?’ Nich asked.

  ‘I don’t know, it was too dark, too confused.’

  ‘I lost Violet. She was holding my hand but someone jostled us.’

  ‘I’m sorry. She was fine, so fine. You also.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I… we had hoped to talk with her, as she dreams, but tell me, why did she call that name?’

  ‘Sigodin-Yth? The explanation is not simple, but in essence I wish to promote belief in gods other than the Christian. It is my life’s work.’

  ‘You know of him, then?’

  ‘I have read of him, enough to believe and enough to hope his essence is not wholly spent. He is the barrow god, a pre-Celtic deity of succour and fertility. I had hoped to reinforce his worship and so give him new force. Had it not been for the cursed police I might have. And they have doubtless taken my octopus head.’

  ‘It is odd for a man to be called. Did you dream?’

  ‘No. My belief derives from innate certainty. But what of you? You are a worshipper, a handmaiden, to Sigodin-Yth?’

  ‘That is the Celtic name. The true name is Txcalin.’

  ‘You know this? How?’

  ‘As you say, I am a worshipper.’

  ‘There is a cult? Is that how his vitality has been maintained across the centuries?’

  ‘Yes, in a way.’

  ‘And the cult takes the dreamers as worshippers?’