Things Get Dark

Chapter Three

Alex

Oct 3 9:06 AM

As I pull out of the newspaper’s parking lot after work, I can’t help but recall the last thirty-six hours. I slept horribly and woke abruptly yesterday, thanks to my home AI device waking me up. Damn thing alerted me to an incoming delivery expected later in the afternoon, so I took the day off work to hide and binge TV. The first thing I did when I woke up was look up the farm’s website on my laptop. I didn’t hesitate to reach out to them via email, and it wasn't long till they responded. Throughout the day, I went back and forth with someone named Drew. He invited me to come out the next evening, and I decided to ask if I could take photos of the property. After I explained I work for the newspaper, I told him I wanted to do a pictorial spread to advertise for them. Drew advised they aren’t opening for a preview tomorrow, but they’ll turn on the lights and get into costume, since I’m offering to help advertise.

On my drive over to the farm, my mind drifts back to what happened two nights ago. That was not normal behavior for me. I don’t have hookups. I don’t even date. But that night… that was exhilarating. I can’t remember the last time I did something so wild or reckless. My heart flutters when I remember how he touched me, like I was the most beautiful thing he’d seen.

As I pull onto the farm’s property, the setting sun hides behind a haze of clouds. A weather system moved through today, and while most of the day was rainy, it seems to be moving east rather quickly. The remainder of the clouds leave the sky in a white, cream, and orange watercolor expanse, setting the perfect backdrop for my photoshoot.

Stepping out of my car, I notice a rather handsome and well-put-together man approach through the same event gate we used last night. He doesn’t look like he belongs here on the farm. He’s dressed in navy slacks and a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up deliciously. As he gets closer, I can start to distinguish tattoos inked into the darker ochre shade of his forearms. The hint of designs pique my curiosity, but I don’t let my eyes wander from his when I meet his approach.

“Hi, I’m Alex Sinclaire,”

I say, extending my hand. “I was corresponding with Andrew today, and he told me to meet him here.”

“Yes, I’m Andrew Campbell, but you can call me Drew. It’s nice to meet you, Alex.”

His broad, bright smile puts me at ease immediately. Somehow, I’d worked myself up again, just being back here with the cornstalks in eyesight. His deep brown eyes sparkle with mischief as he rakes his gaze over me. “Have you eaten dinner? My brothers—well, friends—and I are currently having pizza, and we’d love for you to join us before taking photos.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I don’t want to interrupt.”

I tilt my head slightly, not wanting the attention he insists on showering over me.

“Nonsense! It’s not an interruption if I’m inviting you. Join us. Please?”

The slight quirk of his cheek under his short beard leads me to think this is a game for him, but his eyes seem earnest, so I reluctantly nod my head with a smirk. His grin widens with my acceptance. “This way, then, Alex.”

Instead of walking up the front steps, though, he leads me around to the back of the house. My eyes widen as we approach the back porch. “Oh, forgive me for the informal entrance. We keep the front door locked at all times, so there are no blocked views for our surveillance.”

My face flushes as I climb the steps where I fell apart only two nights ago. Drew holds the door open for me, welcoming me inside.

Stepping into the warm kitchen, I find it’s decorated with the typical farmhouse style. While looking around, Drew steps in behind me and calls out to his friends.

“Guys, this is Alex. Alex, these are my brothers. We call ourselves family.”

As Drew finishes the brief introduction, I turn to see four other men sitting around the dinner table beside me. The first on my left stands, reaching out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Sawyer Harris,”

the tall, muscular guy with shoulder-length blond hair and scruff on his jaw says, standing and offering his hand for me to shake. “Nice to meet you, Alex.”

His charming smirk tells me I should likely watch my panties with him. I immediately recognize him as the one who tore my ticket last night; I remember his flirtatious behavior.

The man sitting to Sawyer’s left glances up at me as Sawyer takes his seat again. “This here is Gunnar MacKittrick,”

Sawyer continues, referring to the friend beside him. “He doesn’t talk much. This is his family’s farm, and he stays here to care for things while his parents travel. They’ll be gone through Thanksgiving this year, so they didn’t mind that we tried this little experiment.”

Nodding my head, I wave politely. The broody man reminds me of a bear, wearing a thick brown beard and a scowl. I bet his beard is soft, though—no, bad Alex! Stop it!

The man at the other end of the table nods before standing and leaning over the table to extend his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Colton Shaw, but you can call me Cole.”

His apparent mixed-Asian heritage doesn’t hide the hunger in his eyes. His styled black hair is tied back in a bun, showing off the shaved back and sides. After I grip his hand politely, he sinks back into his seat, a smirk crossing his face as if he knows a secret I don’t. I’m not sure what to think of him yet, so I move on to greeting the last man at the table.

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Waylon Holmes.”

This is the one who distributed the tickets to us that night. He seems like the sweet version of Gunnar. Similarly colored brown hair, Waylon’s is slightly lighter, and he wears no beard. He gives me a shy smile before ducking his head and adjusting his black-rimmed glasses. My smile widens as I respond to his sweet demeanor.

Drew steps up and pulls out a seat for me next to Waylon. As I sit, I peer around at all these guys. They are all attractive in their own way, and sitting here with them makes me a little nervous, but I steel myself and focus on smiling and enjoying dinner. I’ll soon be working with my camera and then saying goodbye to the MacKittrick Family Farm.

Dinner turned out quite pleasant. Most of the guys talked; Gunnar was the only one who didn’t say much. Cole and Waylon mostly chatted with themselves, but Cole chimed in to our conversation with a couple of witty comments. After I help clear the table, Drew pulls me aside.

“Here is your phone. It’s time for us to go get into costume, so you can photograph us in our element, if that’s okay?”

“That’s perfect,”

I say, beaming up at him. “I’ll go grab my camera from my car and get photos of the land since there is still a bit of daylight left, but when you all are ready, I can capture you all as well.”

Heat flashes in Drew’s dark eyes as he returns my grin. “I can’t wait.”

Exiting out of the back, I blush, thinking that one of those guys made me come right here on these very steps. But fuck, I don’t even know which guy it was. None of the men I had dinner with seem like they could’ve been the plague doctor who broke me out of my shell that night. Dispelling those heated thoughts, I quickly retrieve my camera.

I walk around the farm, the artistic shots for my photos presenting themselves like a slideshow. The decor and the setting sun appear to line up for some wonderful autumn photographs. As I’m working my way through the pumpkin patch snapping photos, I hear rustling behind me. Turning, I find that my friend has returned.

“Good evening, Love,”

the plague doctor’s robotic voice says as he nears where I’m perched.

“Um, hi,”

I say as I stand, warmth flooding my cheeks.

“I had an amazing time that night. I was thrilled to hear you would be returning this evening, even if just to claim your lost property.”

“I had a fun time too," I say, clearing my throat. “I wanted to thank you for showing me what I was capable of when I let go of the worry.”

“I’m glad you feel that way. Would you care for another adventure in letting go? The choice is yours.”

He extends his hand toward me, inviting me to go with him. Glancing up from his black leather glove, I find his deep red tie lying flat on his chest underneath his vest. It reminds me that he kept his promise that night. He led me to a place where I could be safe and not have to worry. I could be out of control, and yet still enjoy myself. Convincing myself, I stand and walk toward him, taking his hand.

After he escorts me across the farm, he stops just on the other side of the lit bonfire in the fire pit. I freeze, noticing where he is looking. Inside the maze, two characters stand. The same creepy clown I saw that night, and with him, seems to be some sort of… scarecrow. Not the cutesy kind, though. This one has its eyes and mouth sewn with straw stitches. Sweat breaks out across my brow, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Alex,”

he begins slowly, “I invite you to an evening that challenges what you know. I don’t expect this to be easy for you, but my friends,”

he says, gesturing to the two in the maze, “they’d like to help you get over your fear. Maybe with a reward or two for your bravery.”

The clown and scarecrow turn, each walking a different direction into the maze. “Should you take their challenge, they will find you and offer a reward. Think of it like a little game of ‘hide and seek’ where you are automatically the winner.”

My mind goes blank. That night was amazing, but this is a maze, the one thing that truly gives me panic attacks. And I’d have to walk in there by myself?! I guess that’s why I am surprised when I hear myself utter the word, “Okay.”

The plague doctor spins to face me, reaching up with one hand to caress my jaw. His hand drops down, tracing the line of my neck as he steps in behind me. When he lightly grips my neck, tilting my head back, he quickly lifts his mask to place a soft kiss on the sensitive spot behind my ear. It’s then that his breath skitters over my ear, and he growls.

“Fuck, Love. I wish I could taste how sweet your fear is dripping down your thighs. I know my friends will take care of you, though.”

He releases me, stepping back to my side. “Do you want me to walk you up?”

I shake my head ‘no’ as I take tentative steps. Before I know it, I lose sight of the bonfire behind me. I can’t tell how far I’ve ventured in, and my anxiety overwhelms me as I begin to run through the maze. Audible footsteps fall behind me, driving my panic higher, and I can feel my breath hitch in my chest when I turn the corner and realize I’ve hit a dead end. Looking up, I take in the darkened sky with the full moon rising, a whimper escaping my lips. My legs shake underneath me; I reach up to massage my temples as I try to catch my breath. I can do this. I think. FUCK.

“Babydoll, do you think we’d let you fall apart?”

The words, robotic and harsh, float in from behind me. I close my eyes, not sure what to do. I’m on the verge of a panic attack, but then this stranger volunteers to help me through it. Both of them.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

My words sound a million miles away, but they are the truth, spoken straight from my lips. My eyes fill with tears, and I squeeze them shut, refusing to let them fall.

“We’ve got you, and we’re going to help replace your memories of horrible experiences with memories of pleasure that will last far beyond your lifetime.”

“Let us help you, Kitten,”

the other voice drawls. “We can help. You trusted our friend. Trust in us.”

They are both here. They want to make me feel good, but I just don’t know. After what feels like fifteen minutes of standing there, one slips his hand into mine, holding tight before he moves forward and wraps his arm around my waist. The contact cements me in this moment, right here with them. I’m not alone. Taking a deep breath, I nod, fully consenting to their ‘help’.

“Yes. Please. Help me feel good and then lead me out. I’m trusting you.”

“Aww, Babydoll, get ready for some fun.”

Lips crash into mine, and I open for him. The overwhelming scent of sunshine and man swirls around me. A large hand grabs my hips, pulling me in and holding me close. I raise my own, resting my hands on a broad chest covered in hard muscles. When he pulls back slightly, I open my eyes.

The scarecrow is standing before me. Surprisingly, I’m not scared. In fact, warmth flows through his hands, still gripping me, slowly spreading throughout my body and settling in my core. I bite my lip, not sure what to do, but luckily, I don’t have to worry.

“Are you getting started without me?”

A second tongue takes this moment to lick up the shell of my ear, causing a chill to run down my spine. “Tell me I can touch you. Let me make you feel good.”

“Yes,”

I reply, turning my head slightly. My lips are so close to the scarecrow’s, I can feel his warm breath ghost across my cheek. Immediately, both sets of hands begin to roam my body. My eyes flutter closed, allowing me to concentrate on the pleasure these men are showering me in.

Moans pour from my lips as they pluck at my nipples and work to remove my clothes. The cool night air quickly causes goosebumps to raise on my skin, but I ignore it, choosing to focus on the zing of electricity that shoots to my clit. It doesn’t help that mere seconds later, a hand slides in between my legs.

“Fuck,”

the scarecrow groans. “You’re soaked. Are the masks doing it for you, Babydoll? Or are you getting hot because the two of us want to show you what amazing friends we can be, sharing our toy?”

“Ohhhh…”

I can’t verbalize my thoughts, so I nod my head. Yes. Yes, to both. “Please.”

“Can we fill you? I bet you’re a dirty girl, aren’t you? Have you taken two dicks before?”

“I haven’t. I’m scared,”

I say, panting with need, “but I want to try.”

“Oh, that’s a good girl. Such a good kitten,”

the clown behind me murmurs. He gently wraps a soft, sheer scarf around my eyes, mostly hindering my vision. I can barely see what’s going on through my slitted lids and the sheer fabric, but that adds to the moment. The next thing I know, the clown spins me and gently pushes me back into the tall scarecrow. He loops his arms under mine, reaches around, and continues to pull at my nipples, working my body higher…

In the meantime, the clown sinks to his knees. The scarecrow grabs my waist and lifts me, and before I know it, my legs are looped over the clown’s shoulders. I scramble to hook my legs, and he dives headfirst into my cunt, lapping and sucking with no hint of stopping. The scarecrow soon pinches my nipples at the same time as the clown nips my clit, and I explode, my release coating his chin.

With teamwork, they stand me back up. My legs are shaking, but this time it’s from indescribable pleasure flooding my body rather than panic. By the time the clown is back on his feet, he leans in, kissing me and giving me a taste of myself.

“Babydoll,”

my scarecrow pleads, “I need you. Are you going to be a good girl? Can you swallow my dick? I know you’ll look like a goddess on your knees for me.”

He is already kneeling on a blanket laid out on the ground. It’s like they planned this—oh wait, they did.

Sinking to my knees, I reach out and caress his hard length, getting accustomed to his size. I glance down, realizing just how big he is. I must pause because when he says those words, I practically melt.

“You can take it,”

he says, his words full of amusement. “I know you want to remember the feeling of me in your mouth tomorrow. Give it a go.”

He cradles my head in his hand, and all I can think is that I’m going to gag all over his cock.

“Kitten, don’t worry. He can’t wait to feel you choke and gag around him. He knows his size, and he will get off hearing you struggle.”

The clown must be a mind reader, because as he kneels behind me, his dirty mouth only encourages me more as he runs his blunted tip through my center. He waits, and as soon as I suck my scarecrow into my mouth, my clown sinks into me.

Inch by inch, they both work me over. No matter the effort, I fight to fit the scarecrow as far into my mouth as I can. His smooth words of praise wash over me, and I’m shaking again, but this time, I’m already on the edge of another orgasm. With their dirty words and the warmup, I’m gushing and quivering between the two masked men.

Fuck, they hunted me through the maze, and now they are fucking the life out of me.

Within minutes, the scarecrow is gathering my hair, holding on and guiding me to take him deeper.

“Goddamn, her mouth is fucking perfect. She’s taking me so well,”

he says, talking to his friend. “Can you swallow, Babydoll? I’m about to come, and I want to feel your throat squeeze around me.”

“Oh, thank fuck,”

the clown says from behind me. “I’m almost there, too. Let me catch our girl up, because fuck.”

He frantically slams into me from behind, making my ass smack against his hips. When he reaches around to find my clit, I explode. Lava flows through me, melting me from the inside out.

I vaguely remember sounds and a surge of warmth first in my pussy, then down my throat. After collapsing onto the blanket, I feel a comforting swipe of cool wetness against my sensitive skin.

“Let’s get you dressed, Kitten,”

my clown murmurs in my ear. I look up at him as he pulls his pants up, realizing I’m lying in the scarecrow’s lap.

“Oh, I’m sorry,”

I mumble, jumping to my feet. Fucking hell, I’m out here stark naked, and they kept their clothes on. I’m so fucking embarrassed.

“No worries,”

the scarecrow says, his words laced with a hidden smile.

Once I’m fully dressed again, and they lead me by hand out the maze, what I just did tumbles through my mind like a freight train. I fucked them both. What the hell did I do?! Oh my god, and the plague doctor two nights ago. They really must think I’m a whore.

When we turn that last corner, I murmur, “Thank you,”

before taking off, shame fueling my escape. I sprint past the doctor, who was on his way to meet us. I can’t face them; I can’t face any of those men when they all know who has been with me. Fuck, three men in forty-eight hours. Tears well in my eyes, burning the truth into my soul. I managed to win my battle against the maze, conquering my biggest fear, but at what cost?

I’m almost to my car, and home free, when I turn back for one last look. There, standing in front of the bonfire, are three tall silhouettes. As I watch, two more men walk up, wearing masks with horns. Frozen in place, I peer out at these men and wonder just who they are.

All five stand there, looking at me. It’s almost as if they are staring, pleading with me not to go. But I can’t tell for sure. Knowing me and my luck, the others are mad, and I’d split them up anyway.

With that final glance, I slide into my driver’s seat, I can’t help but think that they really did share… Nicely, even. What if this wasn’t just a coincidental run in? What if fate set me on the path to find these men? No, there is no way. I just don’t have that kind of luck.

Oh. Fuck. This time, I left my camera, and I didn’t finish my photos for the spread, either.

To be continued in a full-length novel.