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My name is Hobblenock and I’m a hob-goblin of the horny variety. My duty to write about what I have seen and what I know while clamped into my special high chair by she ( who I must obey ). My next story is about a woman who’s circumstances change dramatically and is ultimately transformed. Some might say for the better and some would say for the worst, but who’s story continues in further writings.
As I look into my crystal ball I can see that all will be revealed,
‘Heah, Heh, Heh!’ If you see what I mean.
In an average town, on an average street, in a average house sat an average looking woman; her expressionless face lit by the harsh light from the television set. She stared at the moving images without any reason or interest and wondered what her life would have been like if she had made some better decisions.
Tiredness began to creep up on her and the thoughts of regret began to dissolve into nothing. She started to become detached from the surroundings as the cheap entertainment began to hypnotise, drawing her heavy eyelids down into darkness.
Her mind was aware of a vast and vacant void which contained a distant, yellow light that swung from side to side like a pendulum. A clattering and scraping sound like metal against metal accompanied its swaying motion, increasing in volume as the light gradually moved closer. The light grew more intense and filled her mind’s eye, the vision becoming blinding and unbearable, the deafening sound of metal was too much for her to take. It was like being caught in the full beam of a lorry hurtling towards her with its ear-splitting horn signaling her imminent demise. She began to panic, desperately wanting with all her body and soul to escape from the nightmare of her semi-conscious state.
Her body jolted and her eyes snapped open, she could feel her heart still thumping franticly inside her chest, but was relieved and thankful that somehow she had managed to return to the familiarity of her living room.
The woman on the sofa was left stunned and puzzled by what she had just experienced. Her waste of a husband showed no reaction, still remaining slouched in his armchair watching a football match, looking like a man suffering from a serious attack of lethargy. His right hand loosely held on to a can of beer while the rest of his pathetic body remained barely visible, almost consumed by the upholstery that surrounded him. A pair of legs dangled lifelessly to the floor, looking like they had lost the ability to support his own small and unremarkable frame. He remained unaware and unmoved, helplessly stuck in football land without wanting a return ticket back to existence.
She sighed to herself and got up from the sofa to get a drink of water as she knew he would be no great comfort or much use to her, which was much like he had been in most of her married life.
The bright moonlight entered through the narrow kitchen window, partially lighting the room with its surreal, lunar radiance. It was bright enough for her to see clearly without the aid of extra light, enabling her to acquire a glass for a well needed drink.
But it was a drink she would never have and the glass dropped, shattering into tiny fragments on the floor as she stared directly out of the window to a sight that made her wonder weather she was still dreaming.
At the end of a long, poorly maintained garden was a grassy bank and on it stood a large, dark shape that stared directly through the window at her. The moonlight captured the creatures outline in a series of elegant curves along its thick, long neck and down its back to the strands of hair that made a tail.
It was the recognisable shape of a shire horse, framed in the top half of the kitchen window, standing motionless while the animal’s black mane flayed around in the stiff, night breeze.
It was surprising but not entirely improbable as the end of the garden led onto a large field that was privately owned, but which had never contained horses before. All she had ever seen in the field was kids playing and people having picnic’s in the many years she had lived there. It was likely that it could have been abandoned by someone, but the horse didn’t seem too distressed, remaining unnaturally still as if patiently waiting for her.
The back door of the house opened and she cautiously walked down the garden path to approach the animal that still remained completely stationary.
Large amounts of rubbish and rubble where clumsily negotiated before finally tackling the back fence in just a nightdress, shoes and coat. She landed with a heavy thump at the base of the grassy bank then scrambled up its steep incline to stand breathlessly beside the strange horse that showed no reaction and no movement even when standing next to it.
The night was turning in to the small hours of early morning. The houses of the neighbourhood and beyond could be seen with the aid of the streetlights that scattered casino oyna the local area. The horse stared outward as if observing the peaceful scene of people in their deep slumber.
She stroked its long nose affectionately, the touch feeling like the texture of bristled velvet under her fingers.
“Are you lost?”, she said. Stupidly realising there would be no reply but asking anyway.
The horse finally showed signs of life, turning its head to the side to stare at the woman. The animal’s movement seemed slow and controlled, its big, dark eyes looked at her and she looked back into them to feel a connection that linked them both. She saw the sky and the clouds that resembled fractured slate, the moonlight piercing through the multitude of gaps in the detailed reflections in its eyes. The familiar hypnotic sense came back and she sank deeper into the vision to hear a clam and distant voice.
“You are the one who is lost. Follow me and don’t look back … Never look back again…”
She quickly snapped back to reality as if someone had just flicked on a switch. The horse turned almost mechanically and began to guide the apprehensive woman who was compelled to follow.
She travelled across the field as the brisk night breeze buffeted around her nightdress, causing it to lift and fall like the movement of a jellyfish. The air began to chill her legs but she was unconcerned, feeling a strange sense of surreal detachment as the strangely behaved horse led her into a strikingly familiar scenario.
An old, disorganized fence travelled erratically around the fringes of the field. It stretched into the distance then curved around towards the horizon to act as a boundary to a dense patch of small, untouched woodland that mushroomed behind it. A gypsy caravan was parked near the roots of the dark, mangled woods, its lantern outside glowing and swaying on a metal chain that it was attached to.
Her insides froze at the sight but the panic was subdued, compelled to continue by whatever force lay inside the caravan. The trees greeted her with their rhythmic rustling like the sea against the sand, along with the lantern that clattered its beat outside the entrance.
The horse had done its duty and frolicked naturally around in the night and celebrated its release from the force that had held it. She briefly watched it gleefully galloping about before climbing the small set of wooden steps to enter and confront the instigator of the night’s strange events.
The inside was cramped and cluttered but it was a great deal warmer than the outside. Objects and clothing where almost covering the whole interior with items hanging from the arched, wooden framework of the roof where no other space could be found. She stooped to avoid hitting most of the dangling items, making her way towards the curious character that sat at an overused, fold-away table that looked like it had seen better days.A woman sat behind the table with a crystal ball in front of her. She had a narrow-shaped face that curved sharply from her cheekbones to a small, pointed chin. Her long hair was straight and fine, falling down to her shoulders and down the back of what resembled a black business jacket. It extended beyond where the collar should have been and went up to remain tightly buttoned under her chin. She looked like a women in her 40’s who had lost none of her sultry aura. In fact it seemed like it had grown with age and exuded from her very person.
The most striking feature was her top hat that gave the woman a refined but eccentric style that seemed very out of place inside a caravan that smelt like there was an animal living somewhere inside it.
“Please be seated…”, she said in a calm, husky voice.
The other woman sat down, now curious and under no influence. She had always been sceptical of fortune tellers and wasn’t going to be duped into believing her. Even on such a strange night.
“If you are a fortune teller then you should already know my name.”
The fortune teller smiled knowingly at the woman. Her dark eyes seemed to burn right through her.
“You are she of compliant nature, she of life that is without any real life. You are a woman that tolerates but doesn’t break free because of fear of the unknown… You are Michelle…”
Michelle gasped as her name was spoken. But it was information that was easy to acquire if the strange woman was determined enough.
“How did you know my name? And who are you?”
“My name is Riea Darkkwing and it’s my business to know.”
The crystal ball seemed redundant, her hands never touching it and her eyes never looking into it. Her sight was firmly fixed on Michelle as if she was seeing into her soul.
“Your husband… He of the temperament of a sloth and he of the belly like a camel’s fatty hump. He is your weight that is attached to your ankle by the chain of regret.”
“Yes, I would say that you’ve described my husband fairly accurately.”
“The longer you are attached to the chain, the more painful it canlı casino will become. You have to break that chain for your own salvation and only then is it possible to walk the path to happiness.”
“I don’t need the advice of a strange woman in a top hat and I’m old enough to make my own decisions without anybody else interfering.”
Michelle reacted defensively, as if the fortune teller had got too close to the truth. She started to feel uncomfortable in the small caravan and was beginning to realise that leaving was a better option than having her life examined.
The fortune teller could sense her sudden change from sceptical to believer, now reluctant to participate any further as parts of her private life where peeled away. But it was a reaction she had experienced many times before from the many delusional people she had met.
“The finger of disapproval is not being waved at you, Michelle of the nightdress. It is my duty to give you the option of change and it is for you to decide weather to open the door of opportunity or not.”
“My advice to you is do not let a chance go to waste.”
Michelle moved in her seat, wanting to leave but also curious as to what the woman was offering her.
“What exactly is this opportunity you are willing to offer me?”
“A new start. Independence. A freedom that you do not have. And also desire…. Desire beyond that of what most people know of. All this I can give you in a place that most know nothing about.”
“And what is this place you know so much about?”
“It is a place called Alterville. It is a city that remains ignored by the outside but exists in the backs of people’s minds and which is never far away when you seek it.”
“I am a guide for those in need weather they be man or woman and they are drawn to that very place if it is inside their heart of hearts.” The fortune teller reached into one of her pockets and pulled out a card then offered it to her.
Riea Darkkwing Invites you to Alterville May the sun of good fortune shine upon you.
Michelle hesitated then took it, briefly examining the intricate and highly decorative printing that was embossed onto the card in a multitude for swirls and curls.
“The card will help to get you started in Alterville if you accept the offer. If you decline then I suggest that you keep the card anyway, just in case you change your mind…. Remember, only a fool discards all options in haste.”
“I bid you farewell, Michelle of the nightdress. And may you find what you are looking for.”
She scrambled out of the caravan, ducking and manoeuvring through the clutter above and below her. The fortune teller tipped her hat as a goodbye gesture then Michelle turned and left, walking back across the field unaccompanied and in rather a bemused state.
Riea stood with the back of her head pressed against the wooden beams and dangling objects. The hat and tall stature of the woman meant that she was almost bent double with an awkwardness that did not become her. It was plain to see that the caravan didn’t belong to her and she didn’t appear to be a gypsy of any sort.
The expression on Riea’s face changed from calm to wild aggression, lashing out at the hanging items to send them scattering and bouncing of the walls and furniture to end on the floor with the rest of the junk. The fold-away table that was barely standing was kicked into pieces, sending the crystal ball thumping to the floor.
“Caravans and crystal balls are nothing but cheep gimmicks!!”
She sneered and spat out the words, disgusted with the appalling living conditions that only a vagrant would live in.
The woman’s snarling mouth changed to a crooked smile, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the padded seating that ran along the side of the caravan. The length of wooden panel underneath was given a swift kick and easily gave way, collapsing to the floor to reveal a figure concealed underneath where she had been sitting.
An untidy gypsy man in heavily worn clothes tried to scramble to freedom across the floor that was now totally covered in debris. He desperately struggled towards the exit but his wrists where tied together with thick rope and his legs bound at the ankles. The frantic scrambling was quickly stopped as Riea’s hand grabbed the neck of his grubby, woollen jumper to stop him getting away. He fought back with some success, escaping her grip but then she regained a firmer hold with both hands. The gypsy grunted, shaking his head from side to side before eventually being pulled around to face her. Their eyes met and he suddenly stopped struggling, his brave attempt at escape was instantly subdued as Riea easily destroyed his resistance. She smiled confidently down at him now that she knew that he was paralysed and under her influence.
The woman chuckled to herself as he lay helpless on the floor.
“Dumb animals are so very easy to control.”
The gypsy man breathed heavily and was unable kaçak casino to move no matter how much he desperately wanted to. He tried to cry out for help but all that would come out was a muffled noise from a mouth that had been tightly taped shut.His long, curly hair hung in front of his face to partly disguise a pair of wide open eyes that where filled with terror. He couldn’t avert his gaze from the dark and mysterious woman who had cast some kind of spell upon him.
Riea removed her top hat and flicked some of the long, straight hair from her shoulders.
“Now lets see what you’ve got to show me you dirty, greasy little man…”
His legs where forced open by her black, leather boot and then she pressed her foot down firmly onto the crotch of his trousers to stamp her authority onto it.He shouted and protested but the only sound that came out was his muffled voice of disapproval. The gypsy felt angry and insulted, helplessly watching the wretched woman’s foot as it worked forcefully at his genitalia.
The chunky, rubber tread on Riea’s boot dragged slowly back then quickly jabbed forward into him. It was a movement that was repetitive but very effective and had all the sensitivity of somebody wiping their feet on a welcome mat. She felt him beginning to grow firmer under her foot, the familiar snake-like shape becoming more pronounced from all of the rigorous movement. His brutal arousal was easily accomplished and the volcanic desire deep inside her was beginning to erupt, fuelled by the power and control she had over him.
Riea examined the arching penis that curved out to the left side, pulling at the fabric of his trousers then fully extending back towards the centre where the tip pushed against his belt.
It was a sight the she found very pleasing.
“We cannot let something like that go to waste can we….”
The calm huskiness of her voice had returned, now that she had a keen interest in what the gypsy had to offer.
“I guess you don’t need to be a fortune teller to know what I’m going to do next…”, she said hungrily.
Her hand reached for the zip of her trousers and began to gradually pull slowly downward until it was parted. The same movement continued as she reached behind, pulling steadily up between her buttocks to leave it fully open and accessible. She sank into a squat, the zip parting wider to reveal the smooth boldness of her partly exposed pubis region which hovered over his stimulated crotch. The same movement was repeated on the gypsy, with her hand sinking inside to feel the pleasing shape of his solid erection from base to tip. Her eyes grew wild with expectation, dragging out his phallus to expose it then pulling at the shroud of skin to display the heart-shaped end.
The gypsy stopped his futile attempt at resistance now that his inflamed lust was persuading him accept his passive role. He obediently watched while she directed him down her front, the slickness gathering while journeying on the snail’s path down below.
His delusional mind transported him to foolish ecstasy while the domineering female above greedily began to devour him, sinking down until his manhood completely belonged to her.
He felt Riea’s vaginal walls engulfing him, holding then gripping him tighter like a fleshy vice. The pleasure he felt soon became pain, crushing his erection with a superior strength that made the gypsy scream in muffled agony. His body went with her as she thrust up and down, then she reached behind to pin his legs, arching her back to lift him off the floor. The gypsy’s head flipped back and his taped mouth gaped, the signal he longed for was sent and his seed began to flow.
But there could be no release. Riea held on to him too tightly, his painful ejaculation was suppressed and the flow increased inside him as the spasms continued. He crashed back to the floor and the relief that had been denied him was finally given permission, his torrent finally reaching its end. But it was not to be the end because Riea hadn’t finished with him.
She twisted and squirmed upon him like a frantic belly dancer, demanding that the gypsy give much more than he had already given. He began to feel a intense draining sensation now that she had rendered him completely defenceless, almost as if she was taking something far more important from him.
Riea grasped the crystal ball and held it above her head while she continued her frenzied activity on him, consuming and feeding with relentless enthusiasm. The ball began to increase in brightness, filling with an intense light as the energy grew inside her. She looked down at him, her eyes wide and filled with a complete power, her teeth displayed in a clenched grimace as she continued devouring until he had nothing more to give.
The sound of the most basic, primeval cry filled the caravan and the surrounding field. The horse reared-up onto its hind legs and whinnied at he moon, its mane of straight, dark hair thrashing about in glorious celebration.
The decision had not been easy, she hadn’t thought about anything else and 3 days had passed since that strange night in the field. Hoof prints and caravan tracks in the grass where all that remained when she had inspected the place afterwards.
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