The Coiled Mask The Final Night

Author's Note: Once again thanks to CarrotsGoMeow for proofreading and editing help. Also thanks to everyone who took the time to read my story. It means a lot.

Once more I was standing on the white beach, surrounded by angry darkness. The black sea roared in fury as lighting raced across the sky. With each bolt of lightning I could see glimpses of great tentacles that would have easily stretched the length of Waitwich twice over, maybe more. They seemed to be of no color and every color, moving lazily through the sky as if searching for something.

"Magnificent, is it not?" The Arab asked from behind me as he placed his hand on my shoulder. I had not heard him approach, but I was too engrossed in the terrifying majesty of the airborne tentacles to even be startled.

"Mighty Shibaroth grows ever closer," the Arab said. "We must close our deal soon, before she comes for what is hers."

"What are my orders?" I questioned emotionlessly. I believed myself beyond salvation; the mask no longer needed to compel to seek orders.

The Arab smiled his infernal smile. "I will let you choose this time. I want my last prize to be a girl you would pursue if you had a will of your own. And I'm sure you know, you cannot fool the mask. So don't try."

I bowed my head. "It will be done."

"Tomorrow night you go into the embrace of Shibaroth, to know pain and ecstasy beyond description. The Inkwell line will be extinguished and I will have my revenge. The anticipation would be driving me crazy if I did not have 3 helpless beauties to occupy me. Tonight the dark haired one will fight my first mate. It will be most entertaining."

I said nothing, I barely felt any fear anymore, not for myself nor the women I had cruelly kidnapped. I only wanted to carry out the Arab's will.

"Go!" the Arab said. "Bring me one final prize and seal your damnation!"

With those words, I was flung out of the dreamworld for what I was sure would be my final hours among the living.

I was in the carriage, barreling towards my final crime. It was like I was being torn apart. I felt both soul weary yet more powerful than I could have ever dreamed of. I was filled with dread at what was to come while at the same time overwhelmed with anticipation, as fantasies of every type of woman imaginable struggling in my ropes played in my mind.

I looked out the carriage at the scenery racing by. I knew Waitwich like my own face, and I knew that we were in the seaside section of the town. It was the roughest section of the city, a den of thieves, drug peddlers, and prostitution. The ports drew the desperate, the dangerous, and the mad. My family at the height of its power had sought to tame the docks, but avarice and evil had endured while we Inkwells withered and faded away. It was fitting that the act that doomed the last of the Inkwells would occur here.

I wondered why the mask had taken us here. Unlike before, my thoughts did not trigger a flash of images that informed me of our target. So I could do nothing but sit back until the black carriage parked itself in a filthy ally and the mask compelled me to exit, clutching my black medical bag.

Despite the lateness of the hour the streets were still buzzing, as drunken men sang and fought in the streets. As I exited the alley I saw a burly sailor step into the path of a slight young man in a well worn but clean suit. The larger man had exited the tavern connected to the alley I emerged from just as the slender young man was attempting to enter.

The sailor gave the smaller man a shove while saying words I could not make out. I still hung back in the shadows, even though I was sure no one could see me if I did not desire for them to do so. But I had noticed that a few men and women who stumbled by glance nervously in my direction, as if they could sense my presence.

The young man attempted to sidestep his drunken aggressor and enter the tavern, but the sailor simply stumbled into his path, giving him another light shove. The young man stood completely still for a moment before unleashing a flurry of movement. Even with my enhanced senses I could barely keep up with his graceful motions.

He produced a small club from his inner jacket and proceeded to rapidly beat his opponent about his head. The larger man hit the ground after the third blow broke his nose with a loud crack. The young man studied the drunken fool for a moment to make sure he was down and then stepped over him and entered the tavern, his arrival greeted by a wall of rowdy cheer.

I drifted in after him, the boisterous atmosphere washing over me as I trailed the young man. He gave a quick nod to the portly, balding man working the bar before heading upstairs. No one noticed me as I moved through the tavern, though many a conversation stopped as I passed by, causing the participants to shiver silently and glance around before returning back to their business.

I shot up the stairs and entered the rooms of the young man a step behind him. I used my powers to cloud his perception of me. The room was small and well-kept, with another clean but well-worn suit hanging from a battered armoire.

The young man sighed, before removing his bowler hat and tossing it onto the well-made bed. He shook his head and waves of golden blonde hair came pouring down.

A woman I thought, as the cursed mask finally saw fit to give me the knowledge it had so far withheld. Her name was Kit Wilis, she was 22 years old and had lived on the streets of Waitwich her whole life. She had just been another scrawny kid for most of it, but in recent years she noticed that men took far too much interest in her golden hair and her slim, womanly curves.

So she had reinvented herself as a young man while still using the name Kit. She ran errands for various figures of dubious repute, including the owner of this tavern, who provided her with rooms in return. She was shrewd and dangerous, always preferring to strike first rather than give someone the benefit of doubt and pay for it later.

I studied her features as she removed her suit. Her eyes were large and blue, her mouth a pert pink pout. Her nose was small and upturned, her jaw strong and defined. I could not see how anyone could mistake her for a man.

Nor did I see how the mask thought this would be my ideal woman. She was lovely, but her life and mine were hardly compatible. She was fiercely independent and ruthless; the mask showed me images of her being far crueler to other men than the drunkard she had brained just a few moments earlier. Before this horrible mask had been forced upon me I had hesitated to kill even insects.

But my confusion gave way to my lust as she revealed more and more of her superb body. Her limbs were sinewy and shapely, the definition speaking to the strength with which she had used to take down a much larger male opponent. Removing her shirt revealed wrapped breasts and a muscular midsection. I was entranced, not even Vesper Dare had such a defined physique. I should have found it manly, but instead it only intensified my attraction to her.

Her unwrapped breasts were small and perky, pink nipples hard as she began to remove her pants. She stopped for a moment and glanced around the room, a puzzled look on her face. She looked right through me, but I smiled at the fact that she could sense me at all. After a moment she removed her pants and stood there slim, nude, and glorious.

No longer able to contain my hunger I unveiled myself. I was dimly aware that I was in control now, that I could stop and not take this beautiful woman to a fate worse than any I ever could have imagined. But I did not want to, I knew I was damned and it no longer mattered what I did. If I must suffer, then let her suffer with me.

She reacted to my presence quickly. No screams of terror, no begging and pleading for her life. She looked at me, her big blue eyes widening, before diving into her clothes and pulling out the club she had used so effectively moments before. Without hesitation, she charged at me naked with murder in her eyes.

I made no move to defend myself as she swung at my head with all her might. At the last second I caught her wrist and flung her on to the bed as if she were no more than a doll. The little club went flying from her hand and she hit the bed with a loud grunt.

She had no time to react to what had just happened, as I came to stand beside the bed and grabbed her long golden hair. From the pocket of my overcoat I pulled a black leather strap with a massive ball in its center. I jammed it deep into her open mouth, firmly but with enough care to not injure her.

I buckled the ballgag in tightly as she struggled futilely to stop me, her slender fingers grappling with my large, powerful hands. With the gag secure I grabbed her wrists and wrenched them behind her. I pulled her up from the bed and held her close as she strove to break free.

For a moment we stood there as I was lost in the ecstasy of her struggles. She kicked her bare feet at my shins and attempted to stomp my booted feet, when that didn't work she pulled with all her strength in an attempt to free her wrists from my supernatural grip. All the time grunting and attempting to speak through the massive black ball filling her mouth.

At that moment the mask and I were one. I wanted nothing more than to spend all my life capturing and binding this fierce young woman. I didn't care that I was a monster, as long as I could master this dangerous beauty nothing else mattered.

I reached out with my mind into Kit's, quelling her struggle and forcing her to stand at rigid attention with her arms behind her back, her wrists palm to palm. I walked around her, taking in the fear in her eyes and the beauty of her wonderfully honed body. I sent a command that forced her to stand on her tiptoes, highlighting the superb definition in her calves.

I studied her until a sheen of sweat appeared on her tan, smooth skin. I had momentarily forgotten that she was a normal human, not an unholy abomination like me. I commanded her to rest her heels on the floor and then turned to my trusty medical bag to secure my final prize.

I pulled out bundles of rope, this time pale pink in color. I smiled at the strange color as I set about my work on the paralyzed Kit. I first lashed her elbows together before running the rope down to her wrists and tightly binding them. I took some more rope and wrapped it around her waist, anchoring her arms tightly to her body. I then tied a rope to the one around her midsection, running it between her legs, forming a crotch rope that disappeared into her thick blonde pubic hair and buried itself deep inside of her. She moaned into the ballgag as the crotch rope cut into her. I took one last length of rope and turned it into a leash, making sure it was snug against her slender neck.

I sent a mental command that allowed her to move, while at the same time forcing her back up on her toes. I gathered up my bag and with a tug on the leash I led her from the room. She was powerless to resist me and trotted behind me as fast as she could on her tiptoes.

I led her down the stairs and back into the lively din of the tavern. I of course used my considerable powers to make the pair of us essentially invisible. But Kit did not know that, as fear and humiliation were evident on her blushing face. Exposing her womanly charms to the world gave me a thrill too perverse and evil to describe.

I took my time making my way to the exit, wanting to savor in Kit's defeat and display, even if it was only for my benefit. Finally we exited the tavern and I scooped up my prize and flung her over my shoulder. I loved the feel of her warm skin and the soft sounds of her breathing as I carried her to my carriage.

In the carriage I produced more of the pink rope and bound her ankles, then used more rope at her knees and at her thighs. She was still blushing and flushed as she stared at me. I thought about securing her in a hogtie, but I decided against it. I liked her sitting across from me and looking me in the eye.

We passed the riotous race back to Inkwell Manor staring at each other. Her big blue eyes were wonderfully expressive, showing her fear and anxiety, plus the frustration of being so helpless. Drool from the ballgag caused her tan skin to glisten as she struggled to get comfortable in her tight bondage.

Once we arrived back at Inkwell Manor, I hesitated to get out. This was the end of the line for me. Once the Arab secured Kit, some otherworldly abomination would consume my eternal soul. Terror vibrated deep inside, but the mask quelled my little rebellion and took control. I scooped up Kit and exited the carriage.

I looked back at the carriage just as it evaporated into dark grey mist. I entered my home with Kit slung over my shoulder and made my way to my bedroom.

The bed was made, covered in fresh sheets. What seemed like hundreds of candles covered every corner of the room and filled my normally drafty abode with a pleasant warmth. In the center of my bed was a bundle of golden rope and a jar of oil.

I sat Kit down on the edge of the bed and took up the gold cord and the oil. I placed them on the bedside table and turned my attention back to my captive. She had been watching me warily and was now tugging uselessly at her bonds. I easily gathered her up and laid her face down on my bed.

With a look, I burst the ropes that bound her. In her moment of confusion I paralyzed her with my powers, then rolled her over. Her blue eyes flashed with anger at being so easily handled as I took up the golden rope and went to work.

I bound her spreadeagle to the 4 corner posts of my bed as tightly as I could, enjoying myself as I stretched her toned frame taut. I took another section of gold rope and fashioned a new crotch rope, enjoying her small gasp as the rope sunk deep inside of her.

I released my control on her limbs and watched as she tested the bonds with no success. I took up the jar of oil and opened it, lathering my hands up before rubbing the oil into her smooth skin. She wriggled and squirmed as my hands explored every inch of her body until she glistened from head to toe. I finished off with a firm pinch of her hard nipples.

I stood over her and enjoyed the way her skin shone in the candlelight. I was intoxicated by the flex of her muscles as she searched for any give in the bondage. I am ashamed to say I felt a peace and contentment I had never known in life.

It all came to an end when the mask attempted to compel me to go down and unlock the door for the Arab's men to come collect their final prize. The thought of the foul creature who had ruined my life and turned me into this monster getting his hands on Kit filled me with a rage I cannot describe. For the first time since the mask had come into my life, I held my ground.

The mask pushed harder, but by now I was familiar with its tricks. I felt it trying to shove my mind away but I used the anger to hold on. It introduced otherworldly pain to get me to submit, but all I could see was Kit's heavenly, helpless frame and I held on. With every bit of strength in my body and probably my very soul, I willed my hands up and gripped the mask. When I touched it I thought I heard the Arab howl in pain and felt a furnace wind slam into me.

The mask felt as if it was on fire, I screamed in agony as I tried to tear it off. It felt as if it were my face now, and that I could no sooner tear it off than rip off my own skin. But I continued to pull, screaming wildly in madness and rage. I saw images of all the women who had fallen prey to my evil and I pushed on, now more animal than man. Then the world itself seemed to blink out of existence.

I don't know how long I floated in nothingness. It felt like hundreds of years, but it was probably only a few seconds. I was on the white beach again, the black seas raging and crashing all around me. I tore at the mask, feeling it come loose, ignoring the pain as it felt like I was tearing all the flesh off my face.

As my mad screams filled the air, I looked up and saw something that drove all remaining reason from my mind. The void black sky had opened up, revealing thousands upon thousands of alien stars over head. I could only see a few, because blotting them out was a giant woman made of golden light, writhing in the grip of massive tendrils that bound and caressed her body.

The golden woman attempted to fight off the tendrils until one of the endless web of appendages plunged between her legs, causing her to scream in ecstasy and pain. The cry shook the beach and rippled the seas and gave me the final boost of strength I needed to tear the mask off my face.

I threw the mask into the black sea, still screaming. I collapsed and attempted to bury my head in the sand, mad with pain. I knew that while I had broken free of the mask's grip, the terror in the sky would consume me once it was done with the woman of light. I was a cornered animal faced with death, logic was beyond me.

I continued to attempt to bury my head in the sand until I noticed that my hands were banging against the wood of the floors in my bedroom. I looked up, seeing the candles and the bound Kit looking at me with fearful eyes.

I laughed, tears filling my eyes. For a brief second I enjoyed my triumph, before the reality of my situation crashed upon me.

No one would believe I had done the things I did under the control of a mask made of rope. In fact, the minute I freed Kit she would probably attack me and without the mask to bolster me, I was unashamed to admit that I would not stand a chance.

I came up with a plan of action as I huddled on the floor. There was no saving me, but maybe I had a chance to save the other women I had done so much evil to.

I left Kit, snatching up the cursed mask and charging downstairs. I did not know how much time I had before the Arab's minions showed up, but I knew it would not be long.

First I went to my study. It felt like I had not been there in many years as I raced over to my desk and grabbed a long sharp letter opener. I thrust it into my belt then turned my attention to the cold fireplace. I quickly got a fire going and tossed the Coiled Mask into the fire. I wanted so badly to stand there and watch it burn, but I knew I had to arm myself. So with a last longing glance, I turned from the fireplace and made my way to the basement.

Underneath the basement stairs there was an ancient gun cabinet which no one had touched in decades. With an explosion of dust I threw it open and grabbed the first hunting rifle I laid my eyes on, gathering up ammo from the drawer below before charging up stairs.

Back in my room Kit still lay bound to the bed. I tried not to stare at her stretched out nude form as I walked over to her. She saw my weapons and fear grew in her eyes as she renewed her struggles against the golden rope. I knew no words from me would calm her, so I quickly used the letter opener to cut halfway through the rope binding her left wrist. I then lay the letter opener on the bed right beside her.

I regretfully took one last hungry glance at her glistening body before charging out of the room. Hopefully she would be gone by the time I got back, if I got back. But a woman like her might stay behind and use the letter opener to get revenge for the indignities I had forced upon her. It did not matter, because I knew in my soul that today I would see my last sunrise.

I was out of the house, making my way to the beach trodding a path I had walked thousands of times in my life. The night air that had been so invigorating when the mask had hold of me was now cutting me to the bone. The adrenaline that drove me after I tore the mask off my face was beginning to fade, leaving me with a weariness that threatened to consume my entire being. I only needed to remain strong a little longer, I told myself.