1 comments/ 21526 views/ 1 favorites The Ebony Clock By: jthserra George Prosp was proud of himself, in this time of anxiety and fear he had found the perfect solution to the plague that had taken so many of his generation. Not a doctor or a scientist, he approached the problem in a very pragmatic way, a way any other accountant would be proud of, the perfect solution was a simple quarantine. The plague that threatened them was horrific, leaving its victims pale and emaciated, covered with dark purple lesions, weakened, they were susceptible to all sorts of maladies, even something as innocent as the common cold could kill. At the time medical science was as a loss, this plague threatened to decimate populations, not of the old and infirm, but of the strong, in the prime of their lives. It was an intolerable disease in a time when tolerance was fading. Unwilling to bow to the constraints of lifestyle that the disease demanded, Prosp and a few close friends devised an ingenious plan, not to eradicate the disease, but to save themselves from it altogether. Inspired by medieval history, George thought of the castles and moats that the 'haves' erected to keep out the 'have-nots'. The principle was the same, except when considering the plague, the idea was for the 'have-nots' to exclude the 'haves'. As George described it to his friends, "It's simple, if we create a club, a group of people we know, without any chance of doubt, are clean, we effectively quarantine ourselves from the disease." "But how do we know for sure?" "It's like a castle, there are several levels of protection, each on its own should be enough to protect you, but when used in combination, you are perfectly safe." "Castle?" "Okay, follow me here. Our first line of protection is a sworn statement we all will sign, swearing that prior to joining the club our activities have been exclusively with healthy people. We will also swear that once we join, we will confine our intimate contact with only other club members. That is the castle walls. "Additionally, we all agree to an initial screening and blood test and then follow up with periodic tests to confirm we remain disease free. That is the moat. "To carry this metaphor a bit further, any new members can be allowed in, 'the drawbridge'", George accented this point with his hands making little quotation marks in the air, "provided they go through the same rigorous medical and personal screening the rest of us do. That, with their sworn pledge, will allow us to bring in new, certified clean, people." Several handshakes and toasts later, they formed the club, calling themselves The Ebony Clock Club, after one of George's prized antiques: an enormous ebony grandfather clock that must have been well over a hundred years old. Understandably, the club was a big success and after only a couple of months they had to move their meetings from George's office, to a banquet room at a local hotel. The meetings quickly became a starting point for all sorts of combinations between consenting adults. The club now boasted a membership of nearly fifty people, an eclectic assortment of couples (married and otherwise), singles, gays, straights, bi-sexuals, meta-sexuals (whatever that meant), a few pre-operative transsexuals and several others. Within a few more months, the club would simply rent an entire floor of a hotel for the meetings, and with the help of hotel security, the entire floor would become simply a mass orgy. Even though the membership grew to nearly a hundred people, they all shared a common interest, so most were very open about their activities. George would often walk the corridor, peeking in on all sorts of sexual combinations and positions as he decided which one to join. Tonight he would walk into a room where a woman kneeled over a man, taking his cock into her mouth, he'd pause watching the couple. The woman stroked his cock, with one hand, as her mouth bobbed up and down over him. Her other hand reached under him to slip a finger into his ass. As the man pumped his hips upward, thrusting his cock into her mouth, George would slip behind her, wet his cock with saliva and gently slide it between her legs. After a quick glance back to see who was joining her, the woman resumed her mouth action on the man as George slipped his cock inside her. He'd quickly work to match the woman's rhythm on the man's cock as the pumped her from behind, keeping at it until the man raised his hips and came in great spurts into her mouth. Then George would slip himself out of her, give her a kiss on the ass and slip out of the room to find another landing place for his cock. Often George would visit a dozen or so rooms this way before finally spending himself deep in a woman's pussy, or a man or woman's mouth, ass or whatever other orifice he could squeeze himself into. He luxuriated in the complete sexual abandon that had become so rare in recent times, so happy to have created a safe haven for these beautiful people. The club continued to grow to where George had to hire a staff to administrate all the members, schedule blood tests, take statements and schedule meetings. Soon the club had its own lab and doctors for all testing and they were considering opening a general clinic for other medical needs of any club members. With the one year anniversary coming up, George had to bring in a team of consultants for the anniversary party. They had decided upon a masquerade ball, using a huge meeting room instead of the hotel floor. A few well placed curtains could provide privacy for the few shy ones, but otherwise the evening promised to be one enormous and anonymous orgy. George planned to bring his Ebony Grandfather Clock and as it struck midnight, everyone would stop mid-fuck, suck, or whatever they were doing and reveal their identities. George worked closely with the consultants so when the party finally rolled around, everything was perfect, the room was laid out just as he wanted it, security was installed at all entrances and exits, the food was ready and the drinks were chilled and ready to serve. That evening club members walked into a feast like they had never seen before. After a detailed screening at the entrance, all members were required to wear a masque until the clock chimed midnight. Couples were encouraged to follow separate paths to further encourage sharing in the wonderful promiscuity the club safely provided. The party was well underway when George arrived and although he knew the size of the spectacle this party was, he still gasped when he finally took it all in. Besides the music, food and drink, the room was a mass of individual groupings of bodies groping and writhing in all sorts of ecstatic contortions. People dripped in wine, perspiration and come as they moved from one group to the next. George had already decided to penetrate or be penetrated by as many different people tonight as he possibly could. In just a few moments after arriving, George was thrusting himself into the mouth of one man, while another pressed his cock deep into his mouth. Knowing he had to move quickly, George quickly disengaged and moved onto a woman who was on her back, licking a man's balls as he thrust himself into a woman doggie style. George slipped his hard cock into her pussy and leaned forward to suck her nipples as he moved himself in and out of her. He watched as the man withdrew his cock from the one woman's pussy and moved it down into the other's mouth all the while spraying his white come all over her face. Avoiding the splash, George withdrew himself to move on. As he continued, George noticed two other people who, like himself, seemed determined to sample each and every person at the party. Both dressed similarly in Victorian attire, they didn't even bother to completely remove their clothing. The man simply walked around with his cock protruding rock hard from his pants, while the woman deftly lifted her skirt to whatever cock or mouth awaited her. Looking more closely, George wondered who they might be. Over the past year, George had sampled most of the men and women in the club, and though the masque prevented him from seeing the faces, George was familiar with enough other parts of club members to usually know them by the appearance of their genitals or how they reacted during the sexual act. Hard as he stared and watched he simply had no idea who these two people could be. Both appeared very thin, and from what skin was exposed, both were very pale skinned. The woman's arms seemed hardly more than skin and bones, and though her hair was beautiful, it was obviously a wig. The man was also very thin, but though his pants and long sleeve shirt, George couldn't tell exactly how thin the man really was. Though they were very thin, they were very active moving even faster than George was. When George finally sampled her, pulling her over him as she skewered herself onto his cock, he was surprised how light she felt. Figuring he was fucking some supermodel, George eagerly grabbed her waist and pulled her down onto him. Lost in the thought of his cock inside a supermodel, he nearly came, but quickly got control of himself and gently lifted her off of him. "Thank you Ms..." "I thought we were to remain anonymous," she whispered. "Well it's almost time to reveal anyway and by this time, I doubt many people are still anonymous. I'm George, and you're...?" "Allan, its Ms. Allan." "Have you been a member long?" "No, not very long, though it feels like I should have been here from the start," she answered and them moved off toward another group. Later George found the man and quickly drew his cock into his mouth. It felt very warm, even in the midst of all this action, it felt almost feverish. George tasted the pre-cum that flowed freely from its tip. After a few moments he withdrew the cock from his mouth and said to the man, "I met your, uh, your..." "You met my wife?" "Your wife, I met your wife a little while ago. I am George." "I'm Edgar." "Well Edgar, soon we will be able to meet more formally when these masques come off, but until then I must move on." George then moved onto another group. As the time got closer and closer to unmasking time, George began to hear a murmur roll over the people. Where he expected to hear moan and groans he began hearing whispers and odd silences. He picked up parts and pieces of conversations. "...they're not members." "...snuck past security..." "...snuck in like thieves in the night." Finally, just minutes before the ebony clock struck midnight, George noticed a large group of people circled around the two strangers. George immediately rushed over, where several security guards held the two. George pulled off his masque and asked, "What is going on here?" "They are not members, no one here knows them, and security doesn't have them recorded in." George looked to one of the security guards, "Is this true?" "We videotaped everyone who arrived and went through screening. We have no record of these two." "Damn," George mumbled to himself, "Okay, let's get their masques off and see who they are." The security guard grabbed Edgar's masque and pulled it off as a sudden gasp ran over the crowd. One woman screamed and many others bent over retching. George looked closely at the man's face and saw what so shocked everyone else. His face was marred by three dark splotches, lesions! "Open his shirt," George shouted. The guard exposed his chest which was marred by several other lesions. The man was clearly very ill, with his ribs protruding a sullen gray skin. George looked to the woman and nodded to the security guard, who pulled off her masque. A single lesion marred her right cheek and as she smiled, her lips cracked and oozed in several places. "I should have been here from the start, but you wouldn't let me in," she cackled at him. "Get them out of here," George screamed and settled into a chair as the security guards led them towards the doors. An incredible silence fell over the party as everyone came to realize what now shrouded them all. The ebony clock began to chime. "And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and..." AIDS "...held illimitable dominion over all." * * * * * from Masque of the Red Death, by Edgar Allan Poe