How the Lich Stole Christmas by Paco Andante Genre: horror. Prompt: Non-evil lich Word count: 4,262 --------------- A lich is an undead spellcaster, usually a wizard or sorcerer but sometimes a cleric or other spellcaster, who has used its magical powers to unnaturally extend its life. A lich is a gaunt and skeletal humanoid with withered flesh stretched tight across horribly visible bones. Its eyes have long ago been lost to decay, but bright pinpoints of crimson light burn on in the empty sockets...” Open Game Content, v3.5 --------------- “Mihai says it's haunted,” Stefan told Petru. “Meh! Ghosts are stuff to scare kids with,” the latter replied. The late December snow crunched under their boots as the two teens approached the old mansion. It was mostly ruined, and lay in the hollow about two klicks down the mountain from their homes in town, deep in the Carpathian Mountains. They moved furtively, for although Petru professed not to believe in ghosts, he was, in fact, frightened to death. That's what made his midnight jaunt with Stefan interesting, after all. Besides, it might be a good chance to see Stefan scared shitless. Seeing other kids scared was one of the highlights of Petru's life. Not that he bullied them – he would not be so conspicuous. “I thought I saw a light in there!” Stefan whispered. “Maybe the bandits – the ones that robbed old Gavril's store last week – are holed up in here,” his friend said. A breeze whistled in the pine boughs, carrying away the mist of their breath. The two youngsters sneaked through the calf-deep snow toward the ruins. “Or maybe it's the ghost of Vlad the Impaler come to nail your hat to your head,” Petru laughed. “Hah,” Stefan retorted, “I'm not a Turk!” He touched his cap, “And this ain't a fez.” “You think he'd care? Ha, ha.” They had made their way to the line of brush around the rear of the ruin. It was unruly for neglect, for no one had tended it for long ages. In spite of their bravado, both were terrified and on edge. But neither one was willing to show that to the other. They moved through a break in the brush. “Come on,” Stefan whispered, “see, the stoop by the door is clear of snow. Let's go in!” “Shit! Into the house?” But they entered. The darkness grew deeper as they negotiated the narrow foyer. In the large sitting room beyond it, sheet-covered furniture loomed like evil creatures ready to pounce upon the two boys. It was warm inside, even though the place had not been heated in ages. Dim shafts of the Transylvanian moonlight flowed in through the dirt-crusted windows. “Heh, heh,” Stefan chuckled, “This would be great place to take Mădălina.” “She'd never come with you,” Petru chided. “Huh. No?” “Nah. She's too wrapped up in her icons of The Holy Mary and The Saints.” “She's gorgeous and has big tits, though,” Stefan reflected. “The biggest in town.” “Even if they're the biggest in all Romania, you'll never get to feel 'em. Now, Lenuta, on the other hand...” “What about her?” the boy asked. “She lets me feel hers all the time,” Petru asserted. “Even bare!” “Gee!” Stefan began to get hard, imagining it. They moved around the room, trying not to stumble on things in the darkness. “What's in there?” Petru asked, pointing at a doorway. “Let's find out.” They creaked the door open and moved into the darker space beyond. It was much warmer and they could no longer see their breaths. “You might try Rodica,” Petru grinned. “She likes you.” “Yeah? She's so skinny, though.” “You mean her tits are small,” Petru laughed. “She's got a great ass, though.” “Hey, what was that?” Stefan whispered, a sudden tingling going up his spine. “Saint Nick, ha, ha! Nah. Just the old building creaking in the wind.” “No, no. I'm sure I heard a voice,” he insisted. “Nah. There's no one here but us.” Suddenly, the door behind them slammed shut, leaving them in complete darkness. “Holy shit,” Petru exclaimed, whirling around. An arcane green glow began, stealing its way into the room from somewhere under a shrouded couch near the far wall. As the two boys stood riveted and silent, the light grew stronger. A tinkling laugh was heard, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. The boys bolted for the door, but the latch lever refused to turn, the door remaining firmly closed. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Stefan breathed. “This is NOT happening,” Petru exclaimed. There was a silky, whispering sound, and the boys turned to look into the room. Outlined by the light behind her, a woman, clad in a clinging silken robe, stood before them. Even back-lit as she was, they could make out that she was voluptuous and curvaceous, with dark curls of hair cascading onto her smooth shoulders. “Who the fuck are you?” Petru asked. As the teens watched, quivering with a fear they didn't dare show, the light changed. It altered color from its arcane green to an equally strange silvery glow. As it changed, it began to emanate from several places in the windowless room, with no identifiable source. The strange woman intoned, in a beguiling voice tinged with a slight accent, “I am Ilona.” She lifted a hand and pointed at the covered couch. The sheet enfolding it whisked away amid a gentle billow of dust. A handful of her dark hair fell over her face. In the grotesque light, they could make out her face. They were stunned. Next to her, even Mădălina's youthful beauty would look plain. “Won't you sit?” she asked. Despite that they inwardly screamed to get out, get out if they could, the boys found themselves moving quietly to the couch and sitting down. Ilona smiled, “Good!” She moved and stood before them. As she regarded them from not a yard away the light changed again. The shadowless glow, seeming to come from everywhere, brightened about her while the rest of the room dimmed into near darkness. Petru and Stefan hardly noticed; their eyes were glued to Ilona's pulchritudinous form. They raptly watched the shifting folds of blue silk writhing over her shapely breasts as she moved. She was the most beautiful woman either had ever seen. Regardless of their fear, their bodies responded strongly, their trousers tenting in their laps. The room grew uncomfortably warm for their winter furs. “So, what brings two such handsome and obviously virile young men to visit me?” she said. Her Romanian was excellent but slightly accented; they could not tell what kind of accent. “Mihai told us the house was haunted,” Stefan stammered. “Are you a ghost?” Ilona's laughter, a tinkling, tittering sound, was the same one they heard when the light first appeared. “No, my dear. I'm not a ghost. Here, feel my hand.” She extended her hands, one to each, and they took them timidly in their own. It seemed solid enough, soft and supple, but yet oddly dry and leathery. Her fingers closed about theirs, holding them tightly for a moment. “Would a ghost's hands be so solid?” she asked. Letting go of their hands, she continued, “Perhaps you are not yet convinced?” She stepped back and with one hand brushed the robe from one shoulder. With a measured slowness, her other hand brushed the silk from her other shoulder. The robe now hung from the crook of her elbows, revealing her collar bone and a hint of cleavage. Petru and Stefan held their breath. She slowly lowered her arms and the robe slipped to the floor. Her naked alabaster flesh was revealed from head to toe. The boys gasped in unison. Her shape, wrapped in the clinging silk, had been enticing; her form, seen without it, was simply magnificent. Her breasts were round and firm, large but not pendulous, topped by erect dark pink berries. Her slightly rounded belly sported a navel the like of which Arab poets had written volumes. Wide in contrast to her narrow waist, her nicely rounded hips led down to a pair of shapely legs. The hairless pink mound above the heart-shaped gap between her thighs was topped by full, meaty lips. At their juncture, a prominent clitoris peeked out of its hood. The teens stared, completely enthralled, as she slowly turned, allowing them to admire the full, inverted heart shape of her buttocks. Two dimples adorned her back just above her rear cheeks. The twin globes of her behind jiggled enticingly as she stepped to turn to face them once more. “Still think I am a ghost?” she asked. They sat forward dumbly, their mouths hanging open. They shook their heads. The amazing woman stepped forward and knelt on the couch between them. Her breasts wobbled slightly as she pressed them back onto the cushions with a hand on each chest. “You're such good boys. I will give you a Christmas present. Isn't that nice? So relax,” she said. But of course it was not possible for the two teens to relax. Especially not as she toyed with the laces of their tunics. And it was certainly not possible for their appendages to relax, trying to poke through the coarse fabric of their pantaloons. “It isn't fair, you know,” Ilona whispered. “You can see all of me, but you still wear all these clothes. You should remove them, shouldn't you?” And she took off their caps and set them on the arms of the couch. Somehow, it seemed impossible not to comply with Ilona's wishes. Though normally the boys would have hesitated to be naked in front of each other, almost instantly their coats, tunics, vests and pantaloons went flying to join their caps on the couch's arms. “Much better,” she said. “Now I can see just how strong and manly you are, and what stiff and virile members you have!” Her long fingers trailed sensuously down both nearly hairless chests. The fingers tangled in the place where both boys already had body hair, and onto the pulsing shafts that grew out of those nests. Her fingers curled around them, evoking gasps from both boys. Neither had as yet experienced the delightful touch of feminine fingers on their hardened shafts. The touch was fleeting, though. She knelt up, bringing her bald mount of Venus to the level of their eyes and parted her knees. A touch of liquid was beginning to emerge from between her nether lips. Her sex-laden scent wafted to their nostrils. “Wouldn't you like to explore?” she asked. Four young hands moved up from where they lay, as though frozen, at the boys' sides. They began to rove hungrily over the milky white form before them. They squeezed her breasts, caressed her belly, palpated her buttocks. Her thighs were handled, her ribs were tactilely counted. And most of all, damp nether lips were caressed, parted, and probed. When their emboldened fingers, dampened by their probing, manipulated the little bud that nestled there, a moan of pleasure escaped the woman's open mouth. Other young fingers found their way into the tunnel hidden between those now very damp folds. In response, the slender feminine fingers again wrapped themselves around the shafts they had abandoned moments before. Gasps, moans and wet noises were the only sounds to be heard in that strange room for a while. Then Ilona grew rigid, her hands left the poles they had been holding to wave aimlessly about. She took a sharp intake of air, followed by a long, drawn out mewling sound. Her belly muscles fluttered. She repeatedly and rapidly dipped and nodded her body as though making obeisance to royalty. It was the first female orgasm the boys had ever witnessed. “Holy shit,” Petru breathed. “By Saint Andrei,” Stefan muttered. When she stopped convulsing, she smiled. “It's been such a long time! ” she said. “That was nice. Now, let's get serious.” She stood and commanded the boys to lie down on the couch, top of head to top of head, their bodies directed toward the couch's sides. The couch, though fairly large, was too short for them both, so they each placed one leg on the floor, the other draped over the clothes scattered on its arms. Ilona smiled at how their aroused maleness jutted up into the air. When they were arranged as she wanted, she moved onto the couch. She crept over Petru, her face over his crotch. Her breasts hung down to caress the boy's chest. A tent of her hair tickled Petru's penis and testicles. She crawled further and bent her legs to maneuver her own genitalia to hover just centimeters above Stefan's face. Stefan nearly swooned at having her open and damp folds so close for his inspection, their fragrance filling his nostrils. His hands moved up to embrace her buttocks. His gaze wandered from the pink nubbin of her clitoris directly above him back to the little puckered rosebud between the cheeks he held. It was the most exciting view he had ever seen. “You know what to do,” she told Stefan. Instinctively, he bent his head up and kissed, then licked the secret places before and above him. Ilona bent her open mouth down to Petru's thick member. The foreskin was already partway retracted from the bulbous head, and with practiced teeth and lips, she drew it back. She kissed the tip of the exposed head. Pouting, she slowly drew the glans into her mouth. Petru moaned and his hands reflexively moved around her waist. She lowered her head, taking nearly all his length into her mouth. Her hands moved between his splayed thighs to caress and stroke his scrotum. The other teen warmed to his task. Stefan's tongue busily worked between the nether lips that dangled down to him. Inadvertently at first, his nose worked wonders at her nubbin poking from its sheath. Whether his hands drew her down or whether she pressed onto his face does not matter – the result was that his mouth and tongue busily worked magic on her soft folds while hers worked his friend's hardness. Extending his tongue, he probed the secrets within. It was not very long before Ilona raised her head and emitted a series of gasps as her whole body shook. Before her convulsions were completely ended, she artfully renewed her work on Stefan, to the result that he filled her mouth, his pelvic muscles thrusting. She swallowed every drop. Boy and woman both sighed as they were brought down with gentle licks. “Stay,” she commanded them in a moment, and turned around on the couch, moving carefully so as not to knee either. This time she draped herself over Stefan, facing his manhood. His foreskin was looser and pouted from the end of his longer but more slender shaft. A large dollop of preseminal fluid had accumulated there. Ilona eagerly licked it up before inserting her tongue, licking round and round the head within the stretched foreskin. Stefan shuddered in pleasure. Ilona positioned herself over Petru's face, the effect of her previous delights evident by the drenched state of the pussy she lowered onto him. He eagerly accommodated her desires, licking and burying his tongue in her secret depths. Stefan was already on the edge. Ilona's next action, pressing back his foreskin and engulfing his manhood, almost sent him over the brink instantly. Ilona sensed this and eased her ministrations. When his ardor subsided, she renewed her attentions, laving his trembling shaft. Then she engulfed it, swallowing nearly the entire pole. She gathered his testicles in her hands and massaged them as she worked. The three remained locked together for a while. She stiffened in her third orgasm as Stefan spouted his seed. He filled her mouth once more as he jerked and moaned, and she eagerly swallowed it all, sucking to drain every drop. Sated, the trio collapsed for a moment. The boys couldn't believe their fortune. They had sneaked away from Church and parents on the eve of Christmas and trudged through unbroken snow in search of a frightening experience. They had also expected to trade some mostly imagined tales of their prowess with the local girls in private. But never had they imagined that they would be sexually involved with the most beautiful woman they had ever seen. And such involvement! They rearranged themselves on the couch in a somewhat less erotic fashion, Ilona between the two teens. Neither of the youngsters could think of anything to say, but the silence was not uncomfortable; they spent the time silently weighing Ilona's breasts with their hands. Ilona knew that their youth and enthusiasm was far from exhausted; that they only needed a bit of recovery time. So after a bit she began to toy with their still-limp organs. Even after their recent activity, the teens had no objection to this, spreading their thighs to allow her better access. In fact, Stefan, usually the less forward of the two, lifted his near thigh right over Ilona's lap, giving her complete access to all his equipment. His hand, the one not engaged in fondling one of her full breasts, dove down between her thighs. The beautiful woman chuckled as she made good use of the opportunity he presented; she kneaded not only his lengthening shaft, but the sack below it as well. Her handiwork soon had both boy's instruments stiff and ready for more action. “I want you in me now,” she breathed. “Both of you.” Without waiting for a reaction, she lifted Stefan's leg off her legs, twisted around and sat in Petru's lap. She pulled him down into a slouch, grabbed his hardness and aimed it perfectly at her dripping passage. She lurched, impaling herself partway. The teen gasped. He tried to buck his hips up. Her weight and position on him assured that she, and only she, controlled the action. And control it she did. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she slid her wet tunnel over his straining, thick shaft. She changed position slightly, allowing her better to attain her goal, and impaled herself totally. Petru muttered incoherent sounds of pleasure as she slowly stroked herself on his pole, her juices running onto his balls. Stefan watched, captivated by the sight of her bald slit engulfing the boy's thickness. He leaned forward to see her withdraw, exposing the penis halfway, only to plunge back down. Slowly, she made its entire length disappear into her tunnel of love. Over and over her supple body undulated, the boy's mumblings growing more urgent in time to the wet, slurping sounds. Stefan's hand crept to his own member and began to stroke it in time to what he watched, but Ilona noticed and slapped his hand away. “Your turn comes next, don't hurry things!” she commanded. Her words were already a bit slurred, and within a few more strokes, her body went rigid and she stopped any motion. Outwardly, at least. Petru experienced strong, fluttering grasps on his tool as the incredible woman climaxed for the fourth time. Her insides constricted on him. But she did not allow him his release. As soon as her spasms ended, she got off him, his drenched, fully engorged staff jutting toward the darkened ceiling in frustration. Without another word, she pushed Stefan back onto the couch and mounted him in the same way she had the other boy. Bit by bit, his longer, thinner instrument vanished into her body. She savored the feeling as its head probed the depths of her canal, contrasted with the fullness produced by the other boy's thicker one. Now it was Petru's turn to watch, frustrated at not having reached his own climax. Slowly at first, then with increasing tempo, the dazzling woman slid on and off Stefan's staff. The boy began to breath hard, and he felt the inevitable about to happen when Ilona stopped. Smiling, she waited, then resumed her undulations. Moments later she climaxed again, and Stefan had his turn experiencing the milking sensation on his cock. It was almost enough to bring him off, but not quite. When her convulsions ended, Ilona dismounted from Stefan as well. The boys didn't know what to expect next, but were not very surprised when their mysterious benefactress motioned for Petru to lie back on the couch. Ilona crouched over the other boy and inserted his thick rod in her love tunnel. She bent over to press her shapely breasts against Petru's chest. Stefan, still panting from his near orgasm, moved to find a vantage from which to watch. “No, not there. Kneel behind me,” Ilona commanded him. “I want you both in me. At the same time. Put it in my ass! Now!” Stefan was unable to deny the request, not that he had any objections. He knee-crawled up between both pairs of legs. His hands shaking with excitement, he aimed at the rosebud winking between her spread cheeks. He pushed. His foreskin retracted from the head as it pressed into her slowly relaxing ring. Little by little, his sopping wet penis entered Ilona's back door until his hairs pressed against her body. As Stefan penetrated her from behind, Ilona hunkered down to envelop all of Petru as well. For a moment all was still, their three quivering bodies pressed together. Each boy was dimly aware of the other's hardness just a thin membrane away from his own. Their cocks pulsed with their heartbeats. Ilona began to undulate. Her hips moved with a motion that defied description. She churned up both the instruments buried in her body. Petru began bucking his hips, slamming his pole into her from below. Stefan added long thrusts of his baton deeply into her anus. Even though she had taken them to the brink only moments ago, she had emptied them a short while before, allowing them the stamina to last - or perhaps there was something else at work, too. The boys pounded into the woman, stimulating her clitoris, vagina and rectum to a fevered pitch. Petru's kneading her breasts increased her rapture as Stefan's hands gripped her hips and stroked over her smooth back. Ilona began to thrash about, to the degree that she could, as the throes of her sixth climax overcame her. Undaunted, the boys continued their pounding into both passages. She barely came down from one orgasm when another began. Still, they pounded. Their organs felt huge to them both, the constricting, fluttering grip of her well-lubricated tunnels bringing them both to a state of ecstasy. Yet they did not come – yet. Her string of orgasms ran into one another until, with a loud moaning cry, she seemed to reach a condition of continuous climax. Her shuddering became constant as the boys plunged away in her. Finally, with grunting as of two angry bulls, the two exploded in her, spurting their hot essence into both her channels. This brought her to the breaking point. She sat up. Her hands, that were digging into Petru's flesh, now flew to her own head. She screamed, adding to the din of the boys' bellowing. She became rigid, her head flew back, her mouth opened and she grew silent as the teens' last jets erupted within her. The arcane light in the room flared and the door slammed open of itself. But she lost all control. Her alabaster and pink flesh grew greenish and sickly. The pert, firm breasts Petru had been worshiping suddenly became long, flat, decayed-looking dugs. When he released them with a cry of horror, they hung incongruously down to her shriveled belly. To Stefan's repugnance, the hips that he had been gripping, so round and enticing, and the full, globular buttocks that had trembled so with each of his thrusts, had become mere bones, barely encased in leathery skin pocked with runny wet pustules. The meaty vaginal lips that had so voluptuously parted to admit their penises, now were shriveled and prune-like, in shape as well as color. Her incredibly beautiful face dissolved into a skull, dripping decaying flesh. The hair that had fallen in beautiful waves around it was now stringy, knotted and gray. Her enrapturing deep-blue eyes collapsed inwardly, leaving empty sockets containing only two deep red whorls that appeared to be too far within. Her orgasmic screech of consummation melted into a loathsome, liquid gurgle. But what brought the two teens to complete screaming revulsion was that their penises were still ensconced deep in the repugnant thing now before them! Moaning in terror, Petru scrambled in panic to extricate himself from beneath the cadaverous thing. As he drew away, his deflated member fell from her body with a sucking sound, and a leprous gob of yellow-brown ichor oozed out. Behind the thing, Stefan also pulled himself out in terror. What had resembled an attractive, winking rosebud, had transformed into a corrupt and gaping maw, expelling a dark orange suppuration mixed with his cum. Screaming in abject fear, the two teens fled, scarcely pausing to snatch up their clothes. Naked, they burst out of the ancient building into the snow and ran, heedless of the cold. Only when they had run until their lungs were bursting did they pause to put on their clothing. They returned to their village to find that the townspeople were gathered in the town square. They were forming groups to search for them. Although it seemed like it had only been three or four hours to them, they had been missing for nearly twenty hours and had missed Christmas day entirely.