0 comments/ 45528 views/ 3 favorites Bloody Mary By: NecroDraft I don't know fully what to categorize this in. I just hope that you travel along the road I walk and enjoy my warped sense of erotica. It is after all just a story. Is it good or not, I don't know. Please enjoy. I accept all e-mails. * * * * * Have you ever heard the story of Bloody Mary? The old folklore of the woman killed in such a horrid way that she now haunts those who call her name. Those that taunt her over and over again. I am sure once she was young and innocent. Maybe even naive. Now she is none of those. Her spirit still wanders searching for her killers. Who I am sure have long died of old age, if not foul play. I remember her from my childhood imaginary dreams. How we all would stare into the mirror standing in a darkened bathroom, calling her name for her to appear. She never did appear, not to me anyway. I was introduced to her, calling her name as a little boy. I stood in front of a mirror calling her name over and over and over again. Ten times in all. It was at an after school center that I went to. I was younger then my fourth grade son is now. It was a dare for us at that age. All those that entered the dark bathroom before me ran out screaming, claiming they saw her. I never did see her. Never, that is, until the last time I called her. Called her when I was too young to know what a mistake I was making. She didn't appear in the mirror as all claimed. No, not at all. She appeared behind me. As I was about to run out of the bathroom screaming, as I have done before, claiming to have seen her, I stopped. I should have screamed, but I couldn't. She looked at me and smiled. A smile like a someone would give when approving of how their lover looked. I wanted to scream but the simple touch of her bloody finger silenced all. She lightly placed her finger upon my lips, as you would your own self to shush another. I looked upon her visage. I blinked thinking I was seeing things. How I feared that I wasn't. Her appearance, a bloody mess. A dress once clean, beautiful, and immaculate was now tattered and incomplete. Her hair in disarray and disheveled, which should have made her unattractive, but didn't. Blood covered her. Long tresses no longer blonde. Their were patches where skin could be seen, even spots that showed a nice healthy flesh tone, but there was no mistake about it. She was killed in an untimely yet bloody cruel way. She was a mess, yet rather beautiful. What stood out most was her neck. Her throat in particular. It was missing, taking away her ability to speak. I was still able to hear her in my mind. I have heard stories on how bad she looked, never did I believe them. How could anyone be described in such a horrible despicable way? The flash of her emerald green eyes drew my attention. They were incandescent, and sparkled with such fire and brilliance. Her body was tight. Her breasts filled her dress quite well, pushing against the fabric, as if they were trying to escape. She spoke to me, as wing would whisper to a tree. She told me that I was to be hers as soon as I got a little bit older. She said that I was chosen. I didn't know for what. I remembered what she said for a long time, but as I grew older it slowly disappeared from my mind. So did she. Looking back I realized she watched me grow older. There were times when I would pass a mirror, I would have to look again. Did I see something? Of course I would look back and there would be nothing. Occasionally when I showered, the lights would shut off. Caused of course by some power shortage. At those times it felt like someone was on the other side of the shower curtain, patiently waiting. It was a feeling that I grew so accustomed to it became normal. No longer did I get the cold chills as if someone were sliding their nails slowly down my back. I even forgot that I had forgotten her. That faded too. When I next saw her, I was older, a lot older. She wasn't even a faded memory, she was forgotten. Then, as if everything was to happen at any special time, it was now. A word was spoken. My ears heard it not, but I did. It is a word that I promised never to say, never to utter, not even to a single solitary soul. I never did. Nor will I even for this story. I will however tell you what it meant for me when I heard this word. It meant she was ready, and in that instant everything I knew about Bloody Mary came rushing back into my head. I visually saw her, saw us, as if it were rehearsed, back when I was just a child. I heard her again. This time she said "You will remember." I was steps away from my bathroom when I had the urge to close my eyes. Doing so changed my surroundings. I could still see, see in a way I never thought possible. I was watching myself stand there, yet I felt myself stand there. My body's eyes were closed, but my soul looked on. I watched as her being stepped closer in the wide open space I was now in. She looked exactly as she had those some twenty years past. She was still beautiful, even though she was still wearing the same attire. She Stopped only when she was less than an arms length away. What happened next was like a car accident. It happened so quickly and there was nothing I could do to stop it. We stood, my eyes closed, hers open. My arms were lead by hers, and she wrapped them around her waist. I pulled her close to me with such force our bodies made a noise, much like slabs of meat being slammed against a table. Her lips pressed against mine. I could taste the blood that lingered on her tongue. I grew excited. My heart quickened, my blood spreading through my veins causing me to perspire. I felt like a man possessed by nothing less then pure lust. The kind you get that can not be controlled. A bed appeared behind her suddenly and without reason. It didn't matter though, I wanted her. I wanted her like I wanted no other. I had to drop my seed inside her. To thrust my manhood into her womb. Why should I try to figure out why a bed appeared when she was offering what I wanted? No, what I craved. Quite simply I needed to fill her like a whore. My fingers rushed through her hair, getting tangled in the bloody mess. She had the body of a girl just becoming a woman. Her dress held tight against her bosom. I knew her breasts would stand against gravity if she would remove her clothing. She must have died as a teenager. Everything was still peaking to perfection. How old her body was I will never know. It's not something that was on my mind. Only the constant throbbing of my hard dick that wanted to be inside her was what occupied my jumbled thoughts. I never understood why she never changed her appearance. I thought it was a trick that the dead could do, and after all, she was dead. I stepped forward pushing her back. We floated to the bed. We should have fallen but our bodies just seemed to crash like feathers. My tongue jabbed then fenced and even retreated when her onslaught grew rough. It only made me more excited. Moans escaped her lips as I pressed my hands upon her bosom. Her hands were upon my back. I could feel the wet texture of her life essence. Her blood never dried. It would drip from her body, but I didn't care. I wanted her, I wanted to be inside her. To fuck her like she never was before. In fact, I believe she died a virgin. That could possibly have been the very reason she died. She didn't want that taken from her. A gift for her true love. The years past and she became more lustful, and eager, like a bitch in heat. There was no foreplay, just hard core sex. I lowered my pants in one quick motion. There was no hesitance as they dropped to my ankles. My one arm wrapped around her and my other pulled her dress up above her waist. She did not resist. In fact hearing her in my head, she begged. I could wait no longer. I had to have her, to take her, to make her mine. Or me hers. After all it was she who first appeared to me. As I delved into her. Her nails, like talons, dug into my back. With each thrust of my hips my length and girth expanded. I could feel the tip of my cock against her inner flesh. The sensation was wet, unlike any that I have ever known. I knew that I bled her, I bled her fresh. It was an eerie shriek as she convulsed and thrashed in orgasm. My back was torn by her nails. We came together in one fluid motion. Her hips pressed against mine, our thrust matched our ferocity. Our minds connected and I was able to feel her climax and her mine. It crescendo till we peaked. My back bloody, as bloody as her body. I lied there in her embrace. Eyes still closed, but still watching. Blood and sperm mixing with sweat. It was intense. Even more intense then with anyone I have ever been with. My arms were wrapped around her in a lovers embrace. We were ear to ear, her breath so sweet on my neck. I heard her voice this time, not in my head, but with my own ears. I thrust back and opened my eyes in shock and surprise. I wanted to see her, but when I opened my eyes, she wasn't there. A sadness filled my heart. I was not in a bed with my concubine, I was standing in my hallway much like I was when I closed my eyes. I realized I must have been standing there the whole time. How sweet and real that illusion had been. Although I was sure this had been some sort of dream, my back was in pain. It felt like a searing heat was spreading. I stretched from elbow to shoulder trying to reach. When I pulled my hand away it was blotched with blood. I stretched again, more blood. How bad was it? I wandered into the bathroom feeling the fluid drip to my pants, pulling off my shirt as I went. I gazed into my reflection, my back was torn up. I still wear the scars to this day. What caught my eye though was not my reflection. It was what appeared to be a smudge. On closer examination it was the imprints of a kiss. Was it lipstick? Before I even finished that thought, I answered myself "No." I placed my thumb next to them. The lines showed clearly that bloody lips were pressed hard against it. I traced my thumb over it pretending that they were Mary's lips. It didn't smudge. She left me a memory, one that would never disappear. One that with only a glance at my mirror would remind me of the best sex I never had. Well, that and the occasional itch my back gives me. When I moved out, the print was still there. I tried cleaning it away, but the harder I scrubbed the more my scars hurt. It was as if she was telling me "Don't forget me." The complex I lived in tried cleaning it as well, trust me I know. My scars were hurting then too. I heard they even changed that mirror many, many times, with no avail. The lips always reappeared. I wouldn't be surprised that they are still there. After all it is difficult to clean the other side of the looking glass. She was after all a myth, a legend, no she was real. Just over time she became lost and simply became a folklore. Bloody Mary "Just do it already!" Sarah sighed in exasperation. "It's just two little words." "Yeah right, smart ass. Two little words I have to say three times!" Cindy rolled her eyes and slapped my bottom. "Just do it already, Michelle." You see, some of my friends and I were invited to a Halloween party but, as all 19 year old College girls must do, I invited my girlfriends over for a pre-halloween sleep over. Ok, and maybe I wasn't the bravest person in the world. But can you blame me? For as long as I can remember, creepy things seemed to find their way to me. Footsteps behind me in a dark hallway, something breathing on my neck while I try and sleep...it's always centered on me. If it's scary, you can bet your ass it's happened to me. And now it's the eve of Halloween and I'm being asked-no, forced- into standing before my bathroom mirror with the lights off. Perfect. And I was being shoved into saying 'Bloody Mary'. Shudder. But I stood up straighter, tossed my long blonde hair over my shoulder, pushed my 34D breasts out and took a deep breath. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary." Wait... Wait... Wait... Breathe out. Nothing happened. I'm alright. High pitched giggling broke through my terrified haze. "You should see your face!" Sarah shrieked as she flipped the light back on. My two blue eyes stared back at me through the mirror and I could see what she would find so funny. I looked like Casper-the-not-so-Friendly-Ghost had just felt me up. It was pretty funny looking. Cindy laughed too and slid out the room and fell onto her mattress. "I'm going to sleep now, bitches," she said, closing her eyes and stretching. Sarah and I agreed. I got into my bed and tried to relax my tense muscles, but I was too worked up. How was I just supposed to fall asleep after all that? After tossing and turning for a few hours I finally gave up. Sleep wasn't going to happen. I kept feeling my hair being tugged and something touching my leg. Maybe it was all in my imagination, but after all my experiences in the past, I couldn't be sure. I got out of bed, tiptoed my way around my friends, and padded my way down to the kitchen. After downing a glass of milk, I staggered back up the stairs, stubbed my toe, and cursed loudly. Just before climbing back in bed, I heard a noise in the bathroom. Cindy and Sarah were still fast asleep, so my heart started pounding and sweat broke out over my skin, making my silk night-dress cling to my body. Making my way towards the bathroom, I took a deep breath in anticipation of what I might find. Inching into the bathroom, I stopped dead. There was nothing there. I could still hear the noise, like nails tapping on glass, but I could see nothing. As I turned back to get back in bed, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I froze. The hand started guiding me backwards and I glanced back quickly. A pale arm had stretched out of the mirror and it was pulling me towards the mirror. But then my heart stopped. It wasn't just a hand. Inside the mirror stood a girl with limp black hair and white, lifeless eyes. A thin night-dress covered her body and I could see dark nipples showing through. Before I could properly register what was happening, I was sucked into the mirror. It was like being frozen solid and then suddenly thawed again. I landed flat on my back and gasped in shock, but before any motor functions could properly return, I felt hands all over my body, ripping my dress apart. The air over my body made my nipples hard and cooled my hot pussy. Sleeping without panties always made me feel good. If I was 'in the mood' it would be as simple as sliding my hands under my dress and bobs your uncle. Now it just made me feel vulnerable. I looked up and found myself in an exact mirror image of my bathroom. I could still feel the hands on my body, but I couldn't actually see the hands. Soft fingers grazed over my nipples, rubbing over them gently before squeezing them deftly. I could see my nipples indenting and pulling, but I still couldn't see who was doing it. My guess was the girl from the mirror. I could feel my pussy getting even wetter and I whispered softly: "show yourself." Almost immediately, the girl appeared above me. Her hands were placed on my breasts and a hungry look was in her eyes. Ok, I know this is going to sound strange. I'm a total scaredy cat and nearly pissed myself when I heard the noises, but now that I had this supernatural being groping me inside my mirror, I was pretty turned on. I slid my hands up her body and ripped her dress off too. A look of shock passed over her face and I grinned maniacally. Guess she didn't see that coming. Another thing she didn't see coming? I was the dominant type. And I was horny as hell. I grabbed her shoulders and rolled her over so I was on top and my hands found their way to her breasts. Kneading them in a firm manner, I leaned down and forced my mouth onto hers and started pinching her nipples hard. She cried out against my mouth, but I didn't relent. I slid my knee between her legs and used it to rub up against her sex. Her juices gushed against my leg and I grinned like a crazy person. Leaning down, I sucked on her nipple one by one, rolling my tongue over and over while my hand made the same movements on her other breast. Squeezing her breast tight, I opened my mouth wide and sucked as much of it in my mouth as I could. Licking my way down her body, my tongue finally found the sweet nectar it was looking for. Flicking my tongue over her clit, I grabbed her ass and started rubbing and massaging it while she squirmed beneath me. Saliva and pussy juice slid down between her ass cheeks and I took my moment to slide my thumb inside her ass quickly. Her back arched, pushing her pussy harder against my mouth and I growled in appreciation, sliding my thumb in and out. I could feel that her body was beginning to tense and I grinned as I started to spell my name on her pussy with my tongue. I made it to the second L when her body shuddered violently and she shrieked. I took that as my cue and shoved my tongue into her pussy at the same time that I buried my thumb in her ass. Both her ass and her pussy clenched on the intruders and I shivered in my own arousal. Once she was finished orgasming, I retreated, but didn't let her get up. When she had recovered completely, I crouched over her face with my pussy directly over her mouth. "Lick me," I ordered and nearly came right then and there when a long, serpentine like tongue slithered out her mouth and flicked onto my pussy like a whip. I twitched in pleasure and grabbed her legs behind the knees, pulling her ass up. Holding her legs on either side of my body while she licks me, I leaned forward and licked her from her clit straight to her ass, then pushed my tongue straight into that tight hole. Her body tensed and I felt another smaller orgasm rack her body. I dropped her legs and ass and it landed with a soft thud. I looked down and watched as she retracted her tongue slightly, pressed it against my clit, and let it run down my pussy. The tip slid into my hole and I shivered in delight as her long tongue kept coming, running against my clit and into my hole. I gripped her raised knees in surprise as her tongue just kept growing longer. It fed over my clit, into my hole, curled back out of my hole and into my ass. She wiggled her tongue and I felt the flood gates open as I cum hard, my whole body squirming and twitching as my pussy gushed it's juices all over her tongue. Once my orgasm had passed, I rolled over onto my back next to her. "Fuck me..." I whispered in disbelief. She simply nodded. "Who the fuck are you?" I ask, propping myself up on my elbow. "You should know," she whispered in a husky voice. "You called me earlier." I grinned. Bloody Mary is certainly my new favourite "superstition".