Second Chances
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Second Chances free porn video
Synopsis: They say portals to the past are everywhere. Especially where
something terrible once happened. But what if it was still happening?
Second Chances
By LJ
He collapsed, still reeling from the impossible sensation of feeling
hot, male seed fill his belly. He tried to roll back onto his back, to
make some effort at regaining a sense of normalcy, but found he could
not move. Not an inch. Not a single muscle. Some force was holding him
in place as surely as if he had been frozen in place. He wanted to
scream as he felt the shove of an incredibly thick male shaft into his
exposed bottom even though he didn't remember undressing. He wept with
fear and pain as he tried to measure the eternity that had passed since
he had laughed at those who had warned him of the curse on his new
home. He had thought the old house a deal not to be ignored. He bought
it, and moved into it the same day.
He heard a low, feminine moan of absolute misery, and was astonished to
realize it had come from his own lips. Then his breath was forced from
his lungs when he actually felt the weight of the phallus'' unseen
owner fall full upon his back. Ghostly hands reached to pull at his
chest, and he felt the uncanny sensation of a growing weight that
dragged his chest down against the bed''s soft linen as an unseen
tongue probed his ear. A long, girlish moan filled the air, growing
louder with every passing second, and he wanted to cry out in shame and
terror when he belatedly realized that sound had indeed emanated from
his own throat.
The darkness seemed endless after the sheer horror of the all too
realistic dream of rape. He woke without knowing exactly when it had
been that he had fallen asleep. He only knew that he could finally move
once more as he looked around the brightly lit room. Strangely
refreshed despite the troubling dream, he rose from the bed, and looked
around.
Oddly enough, he thought he was in a different room at first. At second
glance, he realized it was the same room, but the decor was alien to
his eyes. As was the full-length, oval mirror that set near the door.
It had not been there when he had fallen asleep. None of the now rustic
furnishings had been in his room. Only the bed.
Even more startling, though, was the reflection he cast in the silvered
glass as he paused before the mirror. For where a tall, young man of
twenty-nine should have stood, was reflected a scantily clad brunette
with wide, green eyes that didn't look twenty. She had full breasts
that heaved with his gasp for air, and he reached down to feel the all
too real sensations of a very female body beneath the thin, almost
immodest night dress.
He would have screamed when his questing fingers found he was all
female, but just then he feared to hear the sound of his voice. He
looked around wildly, concerned, to, about whom a cry might summon in
this strange, yet familiar room. He shouldn't have bothered worrying.
Intruders came without being summoned in that very next instant.
''I told ye she would be alone this morn,'' a huge, balding man told
his two younger companions. The two lanky teenagers stood beside the
leering brute with uncertainty shining in their dark eyes as the man
confronted him, now her. He shared none of the younger ones''
hesitation as he shoved his filthy coveralls off and lunged at her.
"Aye, all alone," he grinned as he grabbed a wrist when she tried to
push the half naked man away who was left standing in only his boots,
and baggy work shirt of some rough kind of linen. "And more than ready
for us, I'd wager," he sneered as he looked down at her bare thighs.
She, for woman she was now, screamed in earnest now. Her cry came to
late, however, for he was on her in the same instant. Her thin gown was
torn from her body even as he forced her back to the bed, dropping her
on her belly across the width of the bed. The boys had overcome their
timidity by then, and the older of the pair pulled her forward across
the bed by means of a hand tangled in her hair even as he guided his
monstrous erection to her lips with the other. Its obscene invasion
muffled her cries as a maddeningly familiar girth parted her sex from
behind. Hard flesh forced her forward against the young man''s thick
shaft as she tried to escape the rapist behind her in vain. The big man
had already lodged himself deep in her by then, and was thrusting madly
into her as he grunted his lust in her right ear as he leaned over her
helpless form.
Even as she gagged against the rancid flesh filing her mouth, she felt
the man behind her spilling his seed in her womb in his eagerness to
possess her. The cruel man was far from finished with her, though.
Still rampant, he lifted her hips in his huge hands, fitting his thick
member between the firm mounds of her buttocks as he sought out her
other orifice. Without prelude, or preparation, he forced his thick
organ into her smaller passage with a savage cry of pleasure. Her
scream was muffled by the horrid thing well lodged in her very throat.
Between the two of them, her small body was rocked back and forth like
a child's in their strong embrace.
The second youth was not to be outdone either, and he now moved to
burrow his hands under her chest to fondle her nipples made rigid by
the constant rubbing across the bed's linen as she was moved by the
others assaulting her. The big man laughed at the boy's clumsy efforts,
and adjusted her for his companion to better reach his goal. And reach
her he did, sliding beneath her now to bury his teeth and tongue in her
swollen mound. He literally chewed at her flesh until pain was all she
knew. She would have gladly welcomed death as her next lover if only it
would have stopped this unnatural violation of her body by these three
monsters.
The boy beneath her finally released her sore and aching breasts even
as the man at last finished his lust in her bowels with a great shout
of bestial passion. The boy in her mouth jerked suddenly, as if taking
his cue from his elder as he felled her mouth with his foul emissions.
Yet while the boy before her dwindled away after spending himself, the
man behind her remained hard as he stayed buried in her aching bowels.
He continued to thrust himself in her painfully stretched channels he
now stretched out full upon her, pawing at her sore breasts as he bit
at her throat and ears like some animal. And all the while, he
continued to thrust himself into her with wild abandon as the other two
watched, and the bed's creaking filled her ears.
It was at that point the door slammed open again.
As big as her attacker, this was a great bear of a man who raged at the
sight of the four orgyists upon the bed. He lifted a large pistol with
a strangled cry of rage even as she turned her head to beg mercy, or
aid of him with her eyes, her voice long lost to her screams. Even as
her rapist exploded in her a third time, more from fear than not this
time, the bullet tore through his body before slamming into her back,
and exploding out her chest. She cried out in pain as the two boys
quickly followed their brutish elder into death's embrace. Her husband
was not yet finished, however, as he stalked toward her, intent upon
avenging himself upon his dying wife.
He shoved the heavy body from atop her, rolling her over onto her back
as he glared down at her as if she were somehow at fault here. He
ignored her weak cries, and protests of her innocence as he roughly
parted her thighs, and ignored the blood spilling form the grizzly
wound in her chest. He shouted at her, cursing her unfaithfulness as he
roughly stripped his own trousers from his body before falling upon
her. With her last breath, she felt his brutal, punishing rape he
inflicted upon her helpless body. She died with tears in her eyes at
the injustice he committed upon her innocent body, for his words were
still heavy upon her heart even as she breathed her last.
"Harlot," he had cried. "May you never leave your whore's bed, and let
the lot of you rot for eternity until the devil takes you as his own!"
It was in the first black night following the hellish rape and murder
that the four found themselves trapped within the confines of a cursed
bedchamber, forced to play out the drama of that brutal morning on what
was just the start of an endless eternity. They soon learned that if
some hapless soul foolishly shared their bed, that they would join the
young bride in becoming a victim, sharing her pain, and her shame,
until they eventually succumbed to madness, and inevitably, death.
He woke with a start, once more unable to move. Yet as his mind
gradually became more aware of his surroundings, he realized someone
was on top of him, moving. As he realized that, he became aware of the
horrifying realization that he was laying paralyzed beneath a spectral
rapist. Even worse, he still looked like the young bride from his
nightmare. For as he looked down, he could see the bulging of very
feminine curves from his formerly smooth, muscular chest. He could
clearly see the dark curls framing a swollen, pink orifice nestled
between his thighs. That oh, so womanly passage was opening wide with
every stroke of the invisible rapist currently atop him, and he
realized with a growing nausea and horror that this was his body. That
it was somehow transformed by the spirit being assaulted.
He had become the bride!
Only in the moment did he understand the full implications of his part
in the bride''s curse. For to share in her fate, to share her betrayal
and rape, he had to actually become her. To become female. As she
relived the ordeal each night, so would he. Or rather she. Every night.
Until she died.
She could feel the soft presence of the unhappy spirit now lodged in
her resculpted flesh. She felt the grief and misery of that innocent,
tortured soul, and it filled her own heart and mind with an unbearable
pain that spanned countless years. Her body tensed in that same
instant, and learned another facet of the gruesome curse as she sensed
it was the husband's ethereal seed now filling her as the unseen rapist
spent himself in her before his presence faded away. Even the pool of
blood that had been covering her belly was now gone.
"Oh, God,"she moaned as she realized that the thick, male seed from her
multiple rapes had not vanished. It had remained behind, trickling from
her body, covering her face, her still spread thighs, and making her
gag with the urge to vomit. She found herself praying she couldn't end
up pregnant from this treatment.
Outside her cursed home, the sun began to filter in through the parted
curtains, and only then did she realize it was finally morning. The
long night was finally over. She sat up, trembling and uncertain as she
moved to stand up, almost afraid to even move as parts of her body
moved that had never moved before. She was back in her own room, her
own home, but she was no longer in her own body. Not really. And the
fear she had felt all through that endless nightmare still clung to
her. She was certain the spirits had left with the night, but that
wasn't a certainty. Especially not with the woman's timorous, cursed
soul now residing within her.
At first, she was overwhelmed by a depression that kept her almost
catatonic as she dropped to her knees, staring blindly into space. Only
gradually did practical thoughts begin to filter through her mind. How
was she supposed to cope with this strange transformation? How was she
to live? To work? All of those things which constituted an ordinary
life, which she had always taken for granted, now seemed impossible.
Eventually, her fears faded enough that her curiosity got the better of
her, and she managed to climb to her feet. She went to the bathroom,
taking a long, hot shower in which she scrubbed her body as thoroughly
as she explored it. It was a dispassionate exploration, however, as she
was more curious than aroused by the new flesh she now wore. She put
one hand to her breasts, cupping their smooth swell before her hands
moved on after finding just caressing that firm flesh was almost enough
to give her an orgasm. Even after all her torment, the pleasure was
unnaturally intense in the wake of the pain that still filled her
memory.
She eventually worked up the courage to explore the nest of dark,
tangled curls that rested between her svelte thighs. She found the damp
flesh strange to her touch, but it was not unpleasant either, despite
the misery of her dreams. In fact, she found as she toyed with her new
body that time passed very quickly, and not unpleasantly. Had it not
been for the bizarre circumstances she had found herself trapped in,
she might have been able to enjoy herself all the more.
Leaving the shower only after she was satisfied she was thoroughly
clean, she ignored the phone, the door, and all else about her as she
pondered just what her fate might be throughout the daylight hours. She
also learned that whatever possessed her, also kept her trapped on the
property. For as hard as she tried, she could not leave the house. By
being bonded with the poor, tormented bride, she was also bonded to her
terrible curse, and thus, a prisoner of the house. At least, until she
died.
That final, dark thought made her all the more determined to find a way
out. The enlivening came too late. She cried out in fear even as she
felt strong hands claim her as she reached out to fill a glass of water
in the kitchen. In the next instant, she found herself face down on
that cursed bed, wailing mindlessly as she was once more forced to
relived every vile moment of the bride's tragic ending. She had not
even realized that night had fallen until that moment those cruel hands
had grabbed her. She had no idea where her clothes had gone. One moment
she had been dressed, standing in the kitchen, and the next moment she
was laying naked atop her bed, being raped by the spectral monsters
haunting this house.
She wondered if the temporal numbness was another part of the curse,
not that it mattered. She was still left trying to maintain her sanity
as one orifice after another was violated in rapid succession by unseen
male organs in a mad parade of lust. And as the sun finally rose once
more through her bedside window, she realized another integral truth
concerning her curse.
The spirits, coarse souls that they were, were keeping this drama alive
in order to continue their own existence. For though the scenario was
slowly being changed, it was painfully obvious the players were all the
same. The damned bride had not only transformed her body, she was
trying to ease her into understanding the role she was being forced to
take. Only the men remained constant in their drives. Pure lust drove
them, and nothing more. For at least three of them had no concern but
their lusts. They wanted nothing more than to go on fucking her, and to
them, this was no curse, no hell, but an eternal paradise. A heaven for
monsters. She was still uncertain about that fourth male she had
sensed. The husband. How had he ended up here, trapped by his own
hellish oath?
She learned as she spent the day in such contemplation that the spirits
were not hampered by the sun's rising that day. For now that she was
fully aware of them, she was often approached by one or more of them
throughout the day. She was pinched, prodded, and groped at the start
in the days that followed. Then they progressed as she found herself
suddenly impaled by one of them when bending over to pick up something,
or gagging on a cock when she simply yawned. Anther time, she was just
standing at the sink, washing dishes, when one of them had shoved his
ghostly rod into her rectum, and hammered her against the sink until he
left her filled to overflowing with his searing fluids. Such episodes
usually only served as a prelude for more pinching, and groping by all
of them.
By the end of the sixth day, she felt her sanity slipping slowly away,
and was almost ready to welcome death herself. Then the final blow
fell. She was in the bath, trying to cleanse the now nearly omnipresent
sexual fluids from her body when one of the spirits drove his unseen
shaft into her so hard she slipped under the water. She almost drowned
before he finished, finally allowing her to reach the surface, and
life-giving air. It was then that she began to consciously rebel. The
afternoon was spent in a private rage as she swore at all of them,
stalking the house as she smashed anything, and everything in her way.
There had to be a way out. She just had to find it.
It was the middle of the second week before she stumbled on the key.
She was standing in the front door, watching the sun set, and wishing
she could do something as simple as step outside, when she was suddenly
back in the bedroom, naked atop her bed, being rocked by yet another
violent attack upon her body. It was only then that it occurred to her
that key to the curse might just be the bed itself.
She woke late the next day, but spent the entire afternoon struggling
to dismantle the heavy bed. She finally managed to get it out the back
door, surprised to find she could exit the house while carrying a piece
of the bed with her. Once she realized it, though, she was compelled to
go back in as fast as possible. She made dozens of trips, struggling to
carry every piece of the old-fashioned bed out to where someone used to
burn trash in the backyard. She was buffeted, and distracted by the
spirits, who seemed to sense her intentions, but she kept working until
even the new linens she had bought for the bed were piled on the clumsy
pile she had made of the bed and its parts.
Just as the sun was beginning to set, she found a gasoline can in the
shed she reached by carrying around a small bed slat in her hand. She
was grateful to find it half full. She quickly soaked the bed and
bedding with the volatile fluid, then reached for a match in her robe
pocket even as the last light from the sun faded from the horizon.
Even as she moved to strike the kitchen match, she was slammed
violently to the ground as she found herself spread atop the mattress
laying near one side of her gasoline-soaked kindling. She hadn't been
transported back inside. She had been brought to the bed itself. She
breathed a prayer of tanks even as she felt powerful hands ripping the
robe from her body as she struggled to free herself. She was glad the
old house was so secluded, for she couldn't bear to think what a
spectacle she must make as she was ravaged by the specters atop the old
mattress in the middle of her own back yard. Their organs tore at her
like living weapons, as if trying to punish her for her daring, but
their desperate cruelty only served to fuel her own hope and
determination.
For she had been male once, and she still recognized the fear of a man
suddenly uncertain of himself. These spirits were actually frightened
of her for the first time. Frightened enough that they came at her as
one, seeking to crush her will with the awareness of their masculine
wrath and power.
It wasn't enough. Not this time.
She was no longer a frightened young bride from another century. She
groaned, but not in fear. Rather, in determination. Her right hand
stretched out as she struggled to reach the nearest hem of her torn
robe, and the pocket where her matches had been stashed. She managed to
snag the edge of the material, and pulled the robe close enough to fish
out several more matches as the ethereal demons shrilled audibly for
the first time since she had become aware of them. They screamed all
the louder when she managed to thumb a match with her nail, and it
flickered in her hand.
Even as she flung the match over her head at the center of the clumsy
stack she made, she found herself flung away as the demons sought to
somehow smother that tiny flame. Taking that brief moment of freedom as
opportunity, she scrambled away on hands and knees from the mattress
even as the gasoline caught, and the flickering match abruptly erupted
into an inferno behind her. Even as she collapsed near the burning bed,
she felt the spirits return. Heard their howling, demented cries as
they were literally knocked about by their frantic couplings as they
sought to reclaim some degree of power. In her last moments of
awareness, she felt their ghostly forms suddenly warm with unnatural
heat as the flames consumed the nearby bed.
She lapsed into a nightmarish vision of wild, sadistic torments that
finally gave way to a numbering darkness, and then, finally, a true
slumber. It was the first true rest she had known in what already felt
like an eternity.
She groaned when she woke, not to surprised to find she still wore the
shape consigned to her by the curse. She knew it was still dark, and
she could feel the female spirit within her stronger than ever.
Mercifully, she could no longer sense those darker spirits that wanted
only to abuse her for all eternity. She glanced at the smoking embers
glowing nearby in the darkness, and saw only a few piles of ash, and a
few metal spikes. The bed was gone. She stood with a strong sigh of
relief, heedless of her nude body. Was she finally free?
"Young lass," a thick, masculine called to her.
She spun around to see a hulking shadow gliding across the fire's dim
glow to face her. He seemed familiar, but she knew they had never met.
Then a restless stirring from within created a surge of emotion foreign
to him, and she knew without a doubt that this was the bride's bash
husband.
She stepped back, fearful that the others might also now appear as she
glanced around at the darkness surrounding them as the fire began to
fade completely. ''They are gone, lass,'' the spirit told her. ''You
drove them away at last. Only we three remain.''
"Three," she echoed in a tiny voice.
"Aye, lass," the big man smiled radiantly out of the darkness. "Ye, my
bride, whose image ye now bear, and myself."
'I don't understand any of this," she complained.
''Ye know well that I did my wife a grave disservice in wrongly
accusing her. I did also take my own life when I realized the truth of
her innocence, and found, as ye guessed by now, I had damned us all
with my angry words.
"Aye, and doomed many more innocents across these long years, too. Only
after so much pain, so much misery, my dear wife finally found one soul
with the courage and wisdom to end this cruel tragedy. For that, I do
thank ye heartily."
"Uhmm, sure," she squeaked, uncertain of the emotions that were willing
up within her as she found herself actually taking a step toward the
apparition before her.
"Hold, lass," he pleaded when she managed to sop herself, trying to
turn to run away in the same instant. "Before this last bit of
enchantment fades from this night, I would ask of ye both a final boon
ere seeking my destiny beyond this mortal world."
She froze again, and that queer feeling shivered through her like an
icy river. "What would ye ask of us, then, sir," she heard herself
respond, and felt the bride's spirit and heartfelt emotions grow in
strength even as she spoke.
"Let me say farewell to my fine, lovely bride, and love her this one
last time properly, as is her due. Let me beg her tender heart''s
forgiveness for my sins, though I do not deserve such mercies," he
begged as he stepped toward her, reaching for her as he did.
"I..."
She froze yet again. The decision was made for her even as she tried to
control her tongue. For the voice that now spoke was beyond her
control. She was now the passenger in this body, and the soul of the
wronged bride was the woman that now faced her husband without a tremor
of fear.
"Brian, ye great oaf, ye knew I could never resist ye," she sighed as
she embraced the big man. "There is too much of the man about ye to
ignore. And I dearly love that man," she smiled as he returned her
embrace.
"Even though I caused you such pain," he rasped in a truly penitent
tone.
Her response was to hug him all the tighter, pressing the body they
shared against him as she only then realized the man was naked. He was
also fully erect. The hard erection surged against her, and Brian
leaned down to kiss her with all the warmth and passion born of genuine
love. He embraced her in his powerful arms, and in a lightening move,
lifted her to set her small body onto his questing organ. Only this
time, her sex easily welcomed this new invader, and the emotion and
pleasure that filled her was beyond anything she had ever experienced
before. Although only a passenger in their coupling, she could feel the
love they shared, the genuine affection that still existed between
these hapless lovers despite the long years of pain and torment. She
felt the love swell, the bond between them repaired as a growing orgasm
mounted within her trembling body as he helped his young wife ride him
this final time. As he filled her belly with his hot seed, their minds
were fully opened for her to read.
"No!" she wanted to cry out, but her lips only echoed with the cries of
their shared passion.
They couldn't do this, she wanted to shout at them. Neither heard her
protest. The bride's presence slowly faded from her awareness, but her
body was still held in the grip of powerful spasms as her womb was
filled with Brian''s fertile seed, as well as his love and life. For
Brian's last gift, his intended reparation, was to grant his cherished
wife another chance at life. Which meant she had to be reborn through
her transformed body. Her chance to reclaim her own male form was
forever lost.
Brian had known all along what he had wanted, and as he, too, finally
faded away, letting her drop to her knees with his all too real semen
dripped from her body she had no doubts at all that in nine months she
would be mother to a baby girl with brown hair, and pale, green eyes.
Her last sight of Brian was of his tender smile that seemed to light
the night, and she felt that smile pierce her heart although the bride
was now gone from her heart and mind.
She knelt where he had left her, still trembling in the final throes of
her pleasure. She had no idea how she was to start her new life as an
unwed mother. Had no idea how she was to carry on at all. Answers, she
knew, would have to come later. For now, she could only clutch at her
shivering body as wave after wave of pleasure swept over her until she
felt more blissfully alive than at any other time in her life.
It was, she knew, Brian's last gift to her. Oddly enough, she welcomed
it as much as the child she knew would soon be coming. And she made a
silent promise to the tragic spirit, that her daughter would enjoy her
second chance at life. She would see her dreams fulfilled no matter
what the sacrifice. Strangely enough, she felt she owed it to them.
Miracle
- 25.07.2021
- 25
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