Two figures, dark cloaked and masked, diligently scanned their surroundings as they guided a boat toward the sandy strip of beach ahead. The tang of the sea hung heavily around them in the humid air, leaving the approaching boat shrouded in mists.
The sea was calm and glassy in the faint light of the crescent moon, only the surge of the waves against the shore and the faint sloshes of water against the bow of the boat breaking the silence.
The keel of the boat barely scrunched into the sand when the figure in the front of the boat, the leaner of the two, swung over the edge and leapt to dry land. The person moved with a quick, silent efficiency to pull the stern closer to the beach, allowing the other cloaked passenger to disembark without stepping into the water.
Both figures then pulled the boat through the sand toward the hill rising above the beach, aiming for a tangle of driftwood and assorted flotsam pushed up against the hill by the relentless and frequent storms that pounded the region.
Upon reaching the tangle, the lean figure pulled away a section of nailed boards, which likely came from a boat wreck, revealing a carefully excavated hollow in both the tangle and the hill. The void was conveniently of a perfect size to house the boat that the pair now pushed inside.
After concealing the boat in the hollow, the stockiest of the pair replaced the boards while the leaner took up a branch and moved back along the path gouged in the sand by the keel of the boat and the feet of those dragging it.
The one figure moved up the hill, leaving the sand and loose dirt behind in favor of the grass-covered rise, while the other expertly erased all evidence of both boat and passengers from the sand.
Their tracks covered, both now lay at the crest of the hill, watching and listening for any evidence that they had been observed. With patience born from years of practice, both lay silent and motionless for a quarter of an hour, until they were sure the way was clear and they were unobserved.
Their eyes roved over the building, an old design that looked more like a fortress than a manor home. Constructed entirely of stone, it was flat roofed and sported gargoyles on each corner of both floors.
No word or signal passed between them, but they rose to a crouch simultaneously to creep amidst the swirling fog toward their objective. They moved directly toward the corner of the manor, knowing that the blind spot created by a lack of windows with a direct view of their approach would help mask their movement toward the structure, should anyone glance outside.
Once again, they crouched in silence upon reaching the stone wall of the building, waiting for sounds of alarm or movement.
The leaner of the two knelt to remove a pair of dark boots, before climbing the wall. The stones were closely fit, and well mortared, but it proved to be little obstacle to the climber. The figure ascended quickly, as if able to stick to the wall like a spider. Reaching a landing upon the roof where the second story sat back from the first, the climber stopped. Once more, they waited.
A rope dropped to the climber's cloaked partner, who shinnied up the wall and then pulled the rope up after. The pair carefully crept along the roof toward a nearby window, listening for any sounds before moving to peer inside.
Seeing nothing, the more muscular of the two stepped aside while the other worked a tool through the crack between the windowpanes and disengaged the latch holding the portal closed. Once the tool was secreted back inside its owner's dark cloak, both figures climbed in through the window and stepped into the floor of the hallway. Each checked to the left and to right.
They carefully picked up the tiny slivers of wood that dislodged during the break-in, closing and re-latching the window. The evidence of their entry now concealed, they began stealthily exploring the manor house.
Every door they passed was wide open, the rooms curiously windowless. The numerous windows of the manor only opened into hallways and sitting rooms on the seaward corners of the each floor. Every room was dark, revealing no evidence of anyone within.
Upon reaching the entrance foyer of the place, Victor Kaoten pulled back the cowl of his cloak and whipped off his mask, stuffing it into a pocket of the cloak. He scratched at his cheek where the mask had irritated five days worth of unshaven beard, and then ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. "Not a fucking soul."
His partner, Catherine Vata pulled off her mask as well. The face that the action revealed belied her nature. She had a face you could trust, seemingly innocent, naive — and beautiful by any standard. Only a spark of mischief in her emerald eyes betrayed the truth of her. "Something doesn't feel quite right."
Victor shrugged his broad shoulders. "Just makes things easier. We don't have to tie up anybody while we take what we want."
Catherine pulled her long, blonde ponytail out of her cloak, letting it fall to swing at her waist. "Vic, we've been watching this damn place for three weeks. Nobody has come in or left the whole time, until the freaks left this morning. There's no way those two could keep up with this place. We should have had to knock out or kill a half a dozen people who keep up this place."
He furrowed his brow. "Forget it, Cat. You're just upset you didn't get to earn another bloody tear for your tattoo. They're fucking freaks. They probably spend all their lives cleaning up the place and do nothing else. Let's just pick the place clean and get out of here."
He walked over to toward the door, avoiding passing directly in front of the windows, and picked up a candelabra near the front door. Walking toward a beam of moonlight, he examined it. "This is pure silver — I'd bet my left nut on it. This is going to be a good haul."
He pulled a large sack from his concealing cloak and stuffed the candelabra in, "Let's split up and start checking all the rooms. We'll save that one with the double doors near where we came in for last. Looks like the Master Bedroom, and there's a good chance the crazy bitch's jewelry is there. Small, light, and valuable. We want to get as much shit out of here in as little space as possible."
Catherine nodded, pulling out a lantern as Victor did the same. The burglar's lanterns would let them shutter or direct the light emitted wherever they wished, helping to avoid detection as they rifled the dwelling for valuables.
Every room seemed rife with treasure, and the two practiced thieves quickly filled their bags. Whenever they would find a smaller item of greater value, something large would come out of the bag and be deposited on the floor. Nevertheless, both bags were extremely heavy by the time the pair met at the door of the master bedroom.
Victor had a bright smile on his face, knowing he had a fortune in precious metal, jewels, ivory, and art in his sack, picked up and pried from everywhere in the house. He had no doubt that Cat's bag was the same. By his guess, they could live well off what they carried now for three or four years.
Catherine's smile was a reflection of his, as she understood the same. They would have no need to spend long nights of boredom out in the elements casing targets for quite some time.
"Now, the real prize — I hope. If we can stuff our pockets full of jewelry in here, we'll be set for a decade," Victor said, sitting his bag down in the hall.
Catherine did the same, and then blew out a long whistle of surprise as they opened the shutters on their lanterns and beheld the room. Everywhere there was the glint of silver and gold. It trimmed the dressing tables, chests of drawers, and even the bed.
In addition to the precious metals, the woodwork was of the highest quality. Each piece of furniture was a work of art, shaped to look like animal heads and plants, and every flat surface had scenes carved into it. Expensive carpets covered nearly the entire floor. Tapestries that incorporated gold and silver threads obscured the stone walls as the carpets did the floor.
The bed dominated the room — huge and canopied. It could have easily let four people lie upon it comfortably. The curtains and bedclothes were obviously of high quality, as was everything else in the room. The entire place was opulent, but this one room put all the rest to shame.
"Nice fucking bed," Victor declared with a snort.
Catherine walked up and pushed on the mattress. She then sat down her lantern on a bedside table and flopped onto the bed with a sigh. She sat back up and said, "Nice bed for fucking," licking her lips and twitching her eyebrows.
"We've got work to do, Cat," he argued, but didn't take his eyes off her. This was something that often came up whenever they felt they had plenty of time to pilfer a place. It excited them both — especially Catherine.
She pouted for a second, and then her crooked smile returned. She shrugged off her cloak, revealing a blouse and tight pants that clung to her every curve. The blouse was nearly transparent from the sweat that had dampened it, and her nipples pressed hard against the material. "There's nobody here. They were packed up like they'll be gone for a month. I want to fuck in their bed until the wet spot covers half of it and let them smell our sex every night. It's such a wonderful bed. It's a shame to waste it. Come fuck me, Vic. Fuck me and make me leak pussy juice all over."
Victor walked over and grabbed her by the ponytail, jerking her head to look up at him as he stood over her. "You are one sexy fucking bitch — you know that?" He growled in arousal and then ground his lips into hers.
As he pulled his lips from hers, still holding her in a tight grip, Cat said, "Stop talking and fuck me."
"What if somebody comes in? What are we going to do then?" Victor asked while staring down into her eyes.
"Tie them up. Kill them. I don't give a damn. Actually, I'd rather kill them. I just want that dick inside me. We haven't fucked in three days and I feel like I'm going to burst."
He shoved her to the bed and chuckled. "Just a little while ago, you were worried. Now nothing?"
"Are you going to fuck me, or stand there?"
He pulled off his cloak. "You'd better get that shit off, or I'll cut it off you."
Catherine quickly tore off her clothes, jerking off her blouse to make her firm breasts jiggle. She then peeled off her tight pants with her heart-shaped ass turned toward him. Facing away from him also revealed the aforementioned tattoo between her shoulder blades — an eye weeping bloody tears, which currently numbered twenty. She turned over and kicked away her pants, spreading her legs and running her finger over the short strip of hair above her sex.
Victor jerked down his pants, his thick cock already quite erect. He walked over to the bed, his rippling muscles glittering in the lantern light from the sheen of sweat coating his body, and pulled her up by her ponytail again. "We've got work to do first. I don't want to have to leave without getting the jewelry I know is here. But since you're such a teasing little bitch, you can suck my dick first. That won't take too long."
With that, he pulled her head toward his cock. She opened her mouth wide and sucked him into its warm embrace as soon as her lips touched it.
"That's it, suck that dick. I'll give you a nice hot squirt right down your throat, and then we'll load up everything here. Then I'll fuck that tight little cunt of yours."
Cat moaned around his cock as she sucked him, her cheeks concave and her head bobbing rapidly up and down on his shaft.
She reached back to touch her aching sex, but Victor used his free hand to roughly jerk hers away. "Not yet. Nothing for you until we've cleaned this place out, Cat."
Catherine groaned in protest around him, but made no further effort to touch her throbbing pussy.
Victor groaned and growled as she stroked his hard flesh with her hot mouth. Feeling the cum bubbling up in his balls, he gripped her ponytail tighter and fucked her mouth.
Catherine opened her mouth when the tip hit her throat on the first thrust, letting out a croaking cough as it threatened to gag her. His grip tightened, pulling painfully at the roots of her hair, and she quickly closed her lips around him once again.
He fucked her face mercilessly, forcing her to cough and fight off her gag reflex several times. His shaft was thickly coated in her saliva, which strung out into tendrils from her lips every time he pulled his cock back to thrust again.
He loosed a loud, gasping growl and shoved his cock hard into her mouth, the tip going into her throat. His balls tightened and in hard spurts, he spewed his seed directly down her throat.
Catherine gagged, and then coughed the first spurt out of her throat and back into her mouth. She managed to pull back far enough to keep his cock from choking her, and continued to suck his throbbing member as he filled her mouth with cream. She swallowed it greedily until he ceased to squirt, and then let him slide slowly from her mouth.
She leaned back with amusement in her eyes and her mouth wide open. Sticky threads of his semen and her saliva trailed from his twitching prick to her mouth, breaking to dangle from his cock or fall against her body. She licked her lips as he gasped and a final drop of cum welled up from the slit of his prick. She darted forward and licked it off, prompting him to growl and then to hurl her roughly to the bed.
He gathered up his pants and pulled them on, gasping again as the cloth slid over his still twitching cock. Catherine rose from the bed and moved toward a dressing table with a large mirror, the obvious place for a lady to leave things of value. Victor likewise began rifling a chest of drawers nearby.
Catherine made a constant show of bending over to check the lower drawers, displaying her ass and soaked pussy to him with good effect. He looked every time she did so, once taking a moment to step over and smack her hard on the ass, leaving an obvious handprint.
A nice pile of jewelry and ivory toiletry items rested upon the bed when the pair finished digging through every nook and cranny. Victor had even found a bag of gold coins hidden in a false bottom of one drawer, and the bag was just large enough to contain the entire haul from the room.
Victor hefted the bag and smiled. What was inside was probably worth twice what they had already found — perhaps more. He was no expert in gems, and they might be more valuable than he guessed. Thoughts of gorging himself in some fine inn on steak and ale set off a rumbling in his stomach.
"There's a bunch of stuff down in the kitchen — meat and apples and shit. Bring us up something to eat. You know, I think we should load up some of that junk we've tossed aside and wrap it up in sheets and take it too. We can probably live the good life forever off this place."
"I want you, Victor. My pussy feels like it's on fire," she argued, pressing her naked body up against him and stroking his cock through his pants.
He pushed her away. "And I'm starving. We eat, then we'll get all this shit together and get it down to the boat. We'll crash out here until nightfall, and then head out. It'll take too fucking long to get all the shit down to the boat and be too close to sunup by the time we're done."
"I just finished bleeding yesterday. I want your cum up in me," Catherine teased, rubbing her fingers over her nether lips and parting them to let him see the wetness gathered inside her.
He let out an excited growl. "We do it quick, then. Then I'll fill that twat full of cum and leave their bed smelling like your pussy. Go get us something to eat."
Catherine half-scowled and half-pouted, but picked up her cloak and pulled it on, going to do as Victor had instructed.
As they pushed the concealing planks back into place over their boat, Victor's prediction proved true. The time was indeed dangerously close to dawn. While the area around the manor was more or less deserted, out to sea they would pass areas frequented by fisherman, and they had no desire to be spotted in the vicinity.
The fog was beginning to dissipate, but a look at the clouds told the pair that the day would be overcast, and that it was likely to storm. Victor hoped it wouldn't be much of a storm, because the boat was loaded to capacity and they would have to be careful to avoid capsizing it even on moderate seas.
Creeping back into the manor, the larcenous pair stopped at the kitchen to take more food. Victor was pleased to find three bottles of wine and a bottle of brandy. The brandy and one bottle of wine rested in the crook of Victor's arm as the pair returned to the master bedroom, where they planned to sleep for the day. The room was large enough to offer plenty of room to fight — if it came to that — had two exits that were both double doors opening inward, which could be easily blocked. The room provided the best defensive location in the place with quick escape routes.
They sat down to eat, dousing the lanterns when the rising sun offered enough light to see through the open door from the windows in the hall. Victor broke open the brandy and wine, and the two thieves drank enough to make them feel good, without impairing them.
Victor stared hard at Catherine, obviously becoming aroused. She made no move to acknowledge it, even though she was soaked and aching once again as well.
Victor heavily sat the brandy down on a dresser and stood up, pulling down his pants to reveal his hairy cock. "Now I'll fuck that pussy for you," he rumbled, shrugging off his shirt and walking toward where Catherine sat on the bed.
"What if I don't want you to any more?" Catherine replied, crinkling up her nose and snorting to punctuate the statement. The hunger in her eyes betrayed her real thoughts, however, and it was far from lost on Victor who knew this game all too well.
He shoved her down hard to the bed, then quickly rolled her over and jerked down her pants. "Nobody asked you what you wanted. I was telling you what I'm going to do."
"Fine, do whatever you want. I don't care," She responded, but her quickly pulling off her blouse and the wetness between her legs betrayed the truth of how badly she wanted it.
He grabbed her hips, jerked her up onto her knees, and then pushed the head of his cock inside her.
He groaned, and she moaned, as he buried his rod inside her. She was hardly a virgin, but she still squeezed his thick cock tight in her velvety, wet depths. After anticipating this all night, he was in no mood to waste time. Victor pounded her pussy, digging his fingers into her hips.
Cat yelped with every thrust of his prick inside her. Her tits bounced painfully under the strength of his thrusts, and her hands kept sliding forward every time his flesh collided with hers and pushed his rod into her cervix. She felt heat building in her loins as her juices ran down her thighs, his relentless pounding never easing up in the slightest.
She reached back with one hand to rub her clit, the next thrust shoving her hand forward and causing her to fall face first on the bed. He held her hips tight and never lost his rhythm. The hot sensation in her depths was now intensified by a growing pressure — an orgasm building toward explosion. She rubbed her clit in fast circles, screaming as each thrust pushed her closer to the edge.
Victor grunted in pleasure, enjoying seeing her face down on the bed while he jammed his dick into her depths. He could tell by the way she bit off her yelps and started to groan between clenched teeth that she was close. Releasing his grip on her hip with one hand, revealing ruddy imprints left by his fingers, he pulled his cock free from her for a moment and shoved his thumb inside her.
She loudly moaned in protest, but he remedied the reason for that protest by removing his thumb and replacing it with his cock once more. He then roughly shoved his pussy-slick thumb into the puckered ring of her ass.
She let out a loud scream when his thumb violated her ass, and pulled her hand away from her clit to raise her upper body off the bed again. She was so close to the point of no return now that she didn't need to rub her bud anyway. He pierced her flesh half a dozen times more, and then the bubble of pressure in her depths ruptured.
She screamed, the sound loud and staccato, as he continued to assault her spasming pussy. Her orgasm just kept spiking, never really stopping and making her body feel like it was on fire. Her skin flushed crimson as the heat within her manifested itself outwardly. Her fingers tangled into the bed sheets below her, and his thrusting cock made loud squishing sounds as her juices flowed in a torrent.
He pulled his thumb from her ass with a pop, and then grabbed her hip again to take two more thrusts, before slamming home with all his strength, pushing her down face first into the bed again.
His seed spewed into her in hot bursts, his hips spastically rocking beyond his control as he emptied his balls into her clenching depths. She moaned deep in her throat as she felt his cream filling her, clenching her muscles tight around him and shuddering.
He pulled from her with a gasp, trailing thick ropes of cum, and collapsed onto the bed. Catherine let her hips fall to the bed, though she ground her crotch against the bed every so often as aftershocks passed through her body.
The couple moved to the head of the bed, away from the sticky wet spot at the foot, and lay down to sleep for the day. They set no watch, doubtful there was a reason to do so, and confident in their well-trained senses to awaken them if a reason did arise. They did this all the time, and the few times they had miscalculated, those responsible for the interruption had spent a long time tied up in their own home, or lying in pools of blood.
Some hours later, Victor awoke with an urgent need to piss. He grunted and rose from the bed, causing Cat to growl and pull the sheet over her head. His head throbbed painfully and his thoughts were fuzzy, as if he had awakened from a drunken stupor, even though he had not consumed enough liquor to cause more than slight intoxication.
He walked over to where the chamber pot had stood and found it missing. He grumbled, "What the fuck?" He then looked around, failing to find the missing pot anywhere.
He growled, pulled on his pants, and then opened the door, wincing from the sunlight in the hall. The windowless room was nearly as dark as night, and the sudden light was painful. He let his eyes adjust for a few seconds, closed the door, and moved in a crouch to avoid detection through the windows, proceeding down the hall to another bedroom.
Entering the room, he found the chamber pot here missing as well, even though each of the bedrooms had contained one before. Grunting, "Fine!" he aimed his dick at the bed. He pissed all over the mattress, chuckling as he did so.
He turned to head back to the master bedroom, but a growl from his stomach prompted him to return to the kitchen for something to eat instead. He crept carefully through the halls and then down the stairs toward his destination.
Cat felt a hand rub against her thigh through the sheet over her. "Fuck off, I'm sleeping," She mumbled from beneath the covers pulled over her head.
The hand continued its journey, creeping upward toward her pussy. She growled and kicked out behind her, surprised that the kick connected with nothing.
The sheet over her suddenly pulled off her body, and then completely off the bed, in a single swift jerk. Cat rolled over with a growl, planning to kick Victor square in his family jewels, but gasped when she saw nobody in the room.
She shook her head and rubbed her eyes, staring into the gloom. She remembered then that Victor had left the room. Getting up, she saw the sheet that had covered her was indeed lying on the floor at the foot of the bed. She put her head in her hands as a throbbing headache assaulted her.
Standing caused the cum inside her to seek escape. She moved to the chamber pot and squatted, emptying her bladder as the sticky mixture dripped from her.
When she ceased dripping, she pulled some article of clothing from the nearest drawer and wiped her pussy clean, tossing the soiled cloth over near the chamber pot.
Rubbing her eyes again and groaning, Catherine grabbed the wine bottle and took a long draw. She sighed, took another drink, and then carried the bottle back over to the bed. She sat it down on the end table next to the doused lantern and picked up the sheet from the floor to pull it back onto the bed.
Victor walked up to the kitchen door, wrinkling his nose when he smelled something foul. The stench only grew worse as he walked into the kitchen, and when he opened the first storage barrel, he discovered why.
The salted pork in the barrel was covered in slime and crawling with maggots. The reek from the opened barrel made him heave. He slammed the lid back down and stepped away quickly. "What in the fuck?"
Looking at the basket of apples they had eaten from earlier, he saw the fruit was brown and shriveled, with gnats buzzing in a great cloud around the basket.
The voice was faint, almost inaudible, but he heard it. Victor spun in the direction from which the voice had emerged, but saw nothing. The voice had sounded like a little girl — the tone pitiful and frightened.
Help me, someone. Get me out of here.
The voice was different this time, obviously masculine, but with the same tinge of fear and barely audible. Victor turned in the direction from which the voice had arisen and once again saw nobody there. What he did see was a large butcher knife, which he quickly grabbed.
The knife felt good in his hands. It was a far cry from his well-balanced daggers, but it would serve well enough when he found whoever was fucking around with him. He stood in a defensive crouch, ready to spring into action. For several minutes, he stood and growled silently at the pounding in his head. He heard nothing and saw nothing as he scanned the room with his eyes, body tensed for battle. Eventually, Victor noticed that the stench of befouled food had disappeared from the room.
Turning to look, he saw the apples were still fresh. A peek into the barrel showed that the salt pork was likewise uncorrupted. Victor muttered, "What the fuck was in that brandy?"
Catherine took a final pull of wine, staring at the empty bottle in irritation as she sat it back down. She wondered where in the hell Victor had gotten off to, and why he hadn't come back yet. She also wondered what had caused the weird dream that had made her kick the sheet off the bed.
Maybe the wine wasn't such a good idea after all.
Shaking her head, she lay back down and pulled the covers over her. If there were a problem, he would let her know. He probably had just gotten up to get more food. The man ate constantly, and complained constantly if he couldn't.
She soon drifted back off to sleep.
Victor walked out of the kitchen, munching on a hunk of jerked beef. Three more slabs stuck out of his back pocket, and he carried the butcher knife still. He had decided that he must just be half-asleep and half-drunk, and had imagined the voices and other weirdness.
The knife in his hand still made him feel better, though.
There were curtains over the windows in this part of the house, so he paid them no mind as he walked back toward the stairs. After a while, he looked around in confusion. He should have reached the stairs by now, and there was an intersecting hall ahead that he knew shouldn't be there.
"Walked past the stairs, asshole," Victor muttered and turned back around, pulling another chunk of beef from his pocket.
Again, he knew he had walked too far, and had not yet found the stairs. He should have reached the kitchen again by now, but it was nowhere to be found either.
"No more fucking brandy," he grumbled, stopping to concentrate, to try to get his bearings. He saw a sitting room up ahead, and he walked toward it, thinking he remembered how to get back to the stairs from it.
Walking into the room, he hissed, "Shit," when he saw a woman in the room.
She turned toward him, and his eyes widened. The woman had the biggest tits he had ever seen. They stood out proud and firm, the upper half of the globes well displayed in the low-cut neck of her servant's dress. He knew there was no way that tits so big could defy gravity like hers did, but there they were right in front of his eyes.
The rest of the woman's body was just as shapely, with long legs that were also well displayed by her uniform. Her full, bee-stung lips curled into a smile and she flipped her blonde hair teasingly. "Are you new? My, you're a sexy one. It's my lucky day."