Chapter 13: The Licker
Breilla stood before the restroom mirror, her reflection staring back at her with an expression of defiance. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration coursing through her veins. She had done it - she had served all 104 spirits whose names she had inscribed on the pitch. The thought sent a shiver of pride down her spine, but also a twinge of unease. What came next?
She leaned against the sink, her arms crossed over her chest as she studied her reflection. Her blonde hair was disheveled, her makeup smudged from the relentless tears and sweat she had shed during her servitude.
She looked like a wild animal, untamed and feral, yet there was a spark in her eyes that spoke of a fierce determination. She had survived, and she was ready for whatever came next.
She stood before the restroom mirror, her reflection staring back at her with an expression of defiance.
She expected something to happen on the mirror after she surpassed 100 names, but nothing. Just her blank reflection stared back at her.
"Well, isn't that just peachy," she muttered sarcastically, "I've just spent who knows how long serving spirits, and for what? To get nothing but a pathetic 'well done' from my own reflection?" She sighed dramatically, "I suppose I should be grateful for the break, but honestly, I was hoping for a little more... fanfare."
She pushed off from the sink, pacing back and forth in front of the mirror. "So, what now? I've served them all, I've done my part. I should be able to leave this godforsaken place, right?" She paused, looking at her reflection with a hint of desperation. "But what if that's not enough? What if I need to do more? What if there are more names out there, waiting for me?"
She stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the mirror. "There are more names, aren't there?
I can feel it," Breilla muttered to herself, her reflection in the mirror offering no comfort. She sighed, already feeling the familiar sensation of roaming hands on her skin as she stood in the restroom. She quickly exited, unable to bear the invasive touch any longer.
She needed to find more names, more spirits to serve. The main building loomed before her, its once grand facade now marred by time and neglect.
The air was thick with dust and the scent of decay. She could feel the presence of spirits, through the sounds of more footsteps as she made her way down the hallway. She shivered, but pressed on, determined to find what she needed.
The first few doors were locked, but as she continued down the hall, she found them slowly unlocking, one by one. She could feel the power of the names she had inscribed on the pitch ground, the spirits she had served, granting her access to this forbidden place.
The hallway stretched out before her, a labyrinth of shadows and echoes. As she walked, she could feel a gust of wind through her, cold and unnatural. She looked back, but there was nothing there. Just the empty hallway and the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the broken windows.
She shivered, her breath visible in the chilled air. "What the hell was that?" she muttered to herself, her voice echoing down the hallway. She hesitated for a moment, considering turning back, but the thought of more names, more spirits to serve, spurred her on. She took a deep breath and continued down the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest.
As she walked, she could feel a weird sensation, like her body was being licked by something cold and slimy. She shivered, trying to shake it off, but it persisted. She shrugged it off and continued searching, her eyes scanning the dark hallway for any sign of a name or a clue.
The sensation grew stronger as she moved deeper into the building. It was like a ghostly tongue, tracing patterns on her skin, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. She tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the task at hand. But it was difficult to concentrate with the constant sensation of being touched by something unseen.
She paused at a door, her hand on the handle. The room was dark, the air thick with dust and the scent of decay.
She found herself in a small office, the walls lined with bookshelves filled with yellowed papers and forgotten tomes. A desk sat in the center, its surface cluttered with pens and ink bottles. She could see a faint glow coming from the moonlight, casting long shadows across the room.
As she stepped further into the room, she noticed something peculiar. The names she had been searching for were written on the blackboard, each one glowing softly in the dim moonlight. She counted them quickly, her heart pounding in her chest. There were ten names, each one etched into the blackboard like a curse.
Breilla's heart raced as she approached, her eyes scanning the list. She could still feel the sensation of being licked, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. She needed to remember these names, to write them on the pitch after she left this place. She looked closely to the names on the blackboard, committing them to memory.
As she finished reading the last name, she felt a sudden chill run down her spine. The sensation of being licked intensified, and she could feel something cold and wet on her neck. She whirled around, her eyes wide with fear, but there was nothing there. Just the empty room and the faint glow of the moonlight.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She had to get out of here, to leave this place and find a way back to her own world. She turned back to the blackboard, her eyes scanning the list one last time.
She had to remember these names, no matter what it took. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to commit them to memory.
The sensation of being licked was still present, but she tried to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand.
As she prepared to leave the office, she noticed something she had missed before - a small sign next to the door that read "Toilet." Curiosity piqued, she pushed open the adjoining door, revealing a tiny, dusty restroom. A single, cracked mirror hung above the sink, reflecting her disheveled appearance.
"Great," she muttered, "just what I need, another creepy restroom." Breilla stepped into the toilet, her boots echoing on the cold tile floor. She approached the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with haunted eyes. The room was dimly lit, the moonlight casting long, eerie shadows across the cracked tiles.
Breilla's heart pounded in her chest as she took in her reflection. Her blue mini bikini top was damp, clinging to her skin, and glistening with the trail of the licks that had been exploring her body. Her midriff, chest, and neck were all slick with the cold, wet sensation, and she could see the faint outline of the patterns the unseen tongue had traced on her skin. She shivered, a mix of revulsion and something else - something she refused to acknowledge - coursing through her veins.
She quickly turned on the tap, splashing cold water onto her face and chest, trying to wash away the lingering sensation. But it was no use. The licks were still there, their memory etched into her skin like a brand.
She could feel them, cold and wet, tracing patterns on her body, leaving behind a glistening trail. "What the actual fuck?" she muttered, her voice echoing in the small restroom. She looked at her reflection, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of her glistening skin. "I look like I've just been fucking licked from head to toe," she said, her voice dripping with disgust and something else - something she refused to acknowledge. The licks were still there, their memory etched into her skin, a constant reminder of the unseen presence that had violated her.
She leaned closer to the mirror, trying to get a better look at the glistening trail left behind by the licks. As she did, she felt it again - the cold, wet sensation tracing a path up her neck, across her collarbone, and coming to rest on her right nipple. She gasped, her eyes widening in surprise as a jolt of sensation shot through her, straight to her spine.
"Oh my God," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's touching me again." She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. She was both revolted and exhilarated, a mix of emotions she couldn't quite understand.
She watched in the mirror as her nipple hardened under the unseen touch, the cold wetness sending shivers down her spine.
She shuddered, her breath hitching as the sensation intensified. Suddenly, she became aware of a faint sound coming from the office. Footsteps, slow and deliberate, echoing through the empty hallway and into the small office she was in. Her heart pounded in her chest, her eyes darting between the reflection and the closed door. She hadn't locked it, hadn't even thought to. She was trapped, with no escape but through the very room the footsteps were coming from.
As the footsteps grew louder, she noticed something else - her pendant, the one she had worn since she could remember, was vibrating. She clutched it tightly, her knuckles turning white as she tried to calm her racing heart.
The footsteps stopped right outside the door, and she froze, her breath catching in her throat.
Suddenly, the toilet's door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the small space like a gunshot. Breilla's eyes widened in terror as she realized she was not alone. The cold, wet sensation on her skin intensified, and she could feel the unseen presence moving closer. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She was paralyzed with fear, her body trembling as she felt the spirit's icy touch on her neck.
Suddenly, she was pinned to the wall behind her, the unseen force holding her in place with an unyielding grip. She gasped, her eyes wide with terror as she felt the spirit's presence moving closer, its cold, wet breath on her face.
"Let me go!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the cold tile walls. She struggled against its hold, but it was no use. She was completely at its mercy.
She could feel its icy breath on her skin, tracing a path down her neck, across her collarbone, and coming to rest on her right nipple. She shuddered, a mix of revulsion and something else - something she refused to acknowledge - coursing through her veins. She was both terrified and exhilarated, a mix of emotions she couldn't quite understand.
Suddenly, she could feel her bikini bottom being removed, the unseen force tugging at the fabric until it was pulled down to her knees. She gasped, her eyes widening in shock as she realized what was happening. She was completely exposed, her body vulnerable and at the mercy of this unearthly presence.
The cold, wet sensation intensified as the spirit's icy tongue traced a path down her stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. She could feel its presence moving closer, its breath hot on her skin as it explored every inch of her body. She tried to struggle, to push it away, but it was no use.
She was pinned, helpless, as the Licker's tongue traced a wet path down her stomach, its cold touch sending shivers through her. She could feel its breath, hot and heavy, on her skin as it moved closer, its presence looming over her.
Then, without warning, she felt it - a cold, hard pressure pushing against her entrance, and then, with a sudden thrust, it was inside her. She gasped, her eyes flying open as she felt herself being filled, stretched, by this unseen force. The Licker's tongue continued its relentless assault, licking and probing every inch of her skin, sending waves of sensation coursing through her.
She could feel it moving inside her, its cold, hard length sliding in and out of her, filling her completely. She whimpered, her body trembling as she felt herself being used, violated in the most intimate way.
The Licker's tongue continued its assault, licking at her skin, sending jolts of pleasure through her despite her revulsion.
Breilla's body was pressed against the cold tile wall, her legs spread wide as the spirit thrust into her relentlessly. The cramped restroom was filled with the sound of their bodies slapping together, the scent of sex and fear hanging heavy in the air.
Breilla's hands clawed at the wall behind her, trying to find purchase as she struggled to keep her balance. The Licker's icy breath was hot on her skin, its tongue tracing wet paths across her chest and stomach. She could feel its presence moving closer, its breath hot and heavy on her skin as it explored every inch of her body.
She tried to scream, to push the spirit away, but it was no use. She was completely at its mercy, her body trembling as it used her for its own pleasure. The Licker's tongue continued its relentless assault, licking at her skin, sending waves of sensation coursing through her.
Breilla gritted her teeth, her body trembling as she struggled to hold back her orgasm. The spirit's icy breath was hot on her skin, its tongue tracing wet paths across her chest and stomach. She whimpered, her hands clawing at the wall behind her as she fought to keep her composure.
Three months had passed since the first time a Spirit and a Licker had violated her in this restroom, and yet, she still hadn't grown accustomed to it. Every time it happened, it felt like the first time - raw, invasive, and utterly humiliating. She had tried to fight it, to push it away, but it was no use.
The ghostly invisible cock had been relentless, pounding into her with a force that left her breathless. But suddenly, without warning, it stopped. She could breathe again, her chest heaving as she gasped for air.
She tried to stand up, to put some distance between herself and the unseen force that had just violated her. But as she moved, she felt it again - the cold, wet sensation of the Licker's tongue tracing a path up her thigh. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest.
"What do you want from me?" she whispered, her voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger. "Why won't you just leave me alone?" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. With a desperate sigh, she pushed herself off the restroom wall and made her way back to the pitch ground. She couldn't shake off the feeling of violation, the lingering sensation of the Licker's icy touch on her skin. But she had names to write, spirits to serve. She couldn't afford to dwell on what had just happened.
The pitch ground was bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, the air cool and crisp. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart as she knelt down and began to write. The names she had seen in the office were etched into her memory, each one glowing softly in her mind's eye. She wrote them down quickly, her hand moving with a sense of urgency.
One by one, she inscribed the names onto the pitch, her heart pounding in her chest as she endured the sensation of being licked, of being used by the unseen presence.
With the last name written, she felt a sudden surge of relief, followed by an overwhelming exhaustion. She needed to rest, to find a safe place to gather her thoughts and regain her strength.
She stumbled towards the restroom next to the pitch, seeking refuge in its familiar, if not comforting, confines. The door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit by moonlight, cold space she had come to know all too well. She leaned against the closed door, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to calm her racing heart.
The Licker was gone, its icy touch and relentless tongue leaving behind only a lingering chill and the memory of its violation. But just as she began to relax, she felt it - the familiar sensation of roaming hands, their touch warm and solid, a stark contrast to the cold, unseen force that had just used her.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," she muttered, her voice dripping with exasperation. After years in this realm, she had grown accustomed to the three invisible roaming hands that seemed to appear whenever she entered that restroom. They had become almost comforting, a constant presence that she could rely on for some semblance of human touch in this world of ghosts and spirits.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to relax into their touch. They moved slowly, almost reverently, their hands tracing patterns on her skin that were both soothing and arousing.
She leaned back against the door, her body relaxing as the exhaustion began to ebb away. The hands were a welcome distraction, their touch grounding her in a way that nothing else could. She let out a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she gave herself over to their ministrations.