Debauchery Falls Ch 09

*** Disclaimer ***

FAIR WARNING: This particular chapter involves incest and rough humiliating sex. While I try to moderate it in manageable doses, some might find it a little much.

The following story may contain themes of hypnosis, mind control, non-consent, paranormal, cheating, cuckoldry, voyeurism, incest, gang bangs, and other forms of debauchery. This may not be the story for you.

This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Debauchery Falls chapter 09

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Halley, Jessup, and Brubaker crouched in the darkness, straining to hear anything over the beating of their own hearts.

They were out of breath, shivering against the cold. Water was surging all around them, up to their shoulders. Muddy and brown. Thank god it wasn't the actual overflowing Jernigan Creek, or they would have been swept away by the current.

Their headlong plunge through woods, away from the chapel of debauchery, had ended when Halley spotted an overflowing drainage ditch that emptied into the nearby creek. A rickety plank bridge spanned it, wide enough to drive a truck across. With the sound of dozens of devout lunatics in hot pursuit, Halley had dragged her men into the flowing water, and the three of them had wedged themselves beneath the bridge, where they would be hidden.

They waited for an eternity in near darkness.

Brubaker was scowling, his rifle held above the water at the ready, but he wasn't moving. None of them were trying to make a single sound or move a muscle.

Jessup was trembling. The sight of the insane orgy had haunted him in a profound way. Halley still remembered the way he'd cried out when they'd been running, the reality that this mob was going to kill them... or worse. He'd thought of Lincoln, Poe, and Chaney. Mindless slaves to someone else's perverse desires.

Now, in the darkness, squeezed in beside Halley and Brubaker, his whimpering seemed terribly loud.

Halley felt a little bad for the young man, but now wasn't the time. She clamped her hand over his mouth to muffle him. Her other hand grasped her gun as she pointed it at the night. Everyone was just waiting.

Well this brings back memories, Halley thought bitterly.

Then they heard it. Over the rain and the rush of water. The light 'patterpatterpatter' of bare running feet. Dozens of them, a small stampede. They splashed through the mud, coming toward the bridge. Their sounds growing louder and louder.

Halley felt Jessup stiffen.

Here we go, she thought, bringing her weapon around. The men did the same. They trained their sights. This cramped little space beneath the bridge might very well be their last stand. Should any faces pop into view, they were going to get blown away.

Then the feet had reached the planks of the bridge, and they were hurrying across. Their pace never slowed. Inches above their heads, the planks rattled. Jessup still shook. Halley wanted to whisper something encouraging to calm him down, but could neither think of anything, nor did she dare make even the softest sound. Everything around here was so weird-- they probably had supernatural hearing too, she thought bitterly. Hell, they could probably hear the beating of her own heart.

Then the mob of pursuers was across and hurrying away into the night. The patter of their footsteps faded away, blending with the rain, until it was gone completely.

They all exhaled and looked at each other. Finally Halley nodded. "I think we're alone now," her voice just a breath. They slid out from beneath the bridge and scanned the night. Just darkness.

But then a light blossomed in the trees.

"The tavern," Brubaker whispered. The old Lantern Glow Inn, where they had just been and had their guilty little threesome, was now alight with the chug of a generator.

"Oh shit," Halley said. She wasn't sure what it all meant, but that couldn't be good.

***

Lucy didn't like leaving the safety of the cabin. Not at this point. It had been their shelter, but more than that, ever since she and Graver had made feverish love, it had taken on a special vibe that felt impervious to any threat. To leave that behind made her uneasy.

But she knew that Captain Graver was going back out there to get answers, and there was no way in hell she was going to be left by herself. Graver either understood that, or trusted her enough to have his back, because he didn't ask her to wait behind.

They set off back into the night on foot. Graver kept them to the shadows. They didn't venture out into the street. They darted through back yards, moving from tree to tree, bush to bush. Each place that they stopped, Graver would pause, listen and assess. Then they were moving off again.

Lucy was scared, but the adrenaline... and the passion she shared with Graver... had added a spring to her step. She felt like she could do this for days without tiring, and that surprised her. It all felt a little dreamy, as though with how surreal everything had become, none of this was really real. It was just one long dream.

A part of her hoped that wasn't the case. She watched Graver wave her to the next stopping point behind a shed. She joined him after a moment.

From their vantage point, they could hear voices talking behind the bar. Gruff men swearing and joking around.

Graver signaled to wait and crept carefully around the little shed. The pair were scruffy. One had cut off sleeves, a sloppy prison tattoo scrawled along his bicep. The other boasted a handle-bar mustache and stringy hair. The men were fussing over a generator, congratulating themselves for getting it to life. Nearby, a cultist was standing watch. A silent sentry in his ominous hood and robes. Another one stood at the corner of the building.

Four, in all, although Graver could hear many more around the front of the building. Cars had pulled up, and men were getting out, using the tavern as some sort of meeting place for unknown reasons. Car doors slamming and men hooted and hollered. Graver didn't like the sound of it. They sounded like men celebrating a victory-- a battle won.

A new voice in the darkness, as another man appeared around the side of the building. One of the 'deputies' who looked more like an escaped convict. "Check out the babes we caught," he shouted to his buddies. "The big man is promising entertainment for the night."

Graver soundlessly swore to himself, already figuring that meant that Galloway and her team hadn't managed to get away after all.

'Tattoos' and 'Handle-stache' hurried to the front of the building. Leaving just the two cultists in the robes.

Graver fixed his eyes on them and drew his blade.

***

"You've been a very bad girl, haven't you?" Abernathy said. He was squeezed into the back of the car with Galloway. Andrea was sitting up front. The 'deputy' who was driving was peering over at her bare legs, and her dangerously short miniskirt.

Both women nodded obediently, staring straight ahead.

Abernathy sighed. "You can answer me freely."

As soon as he said it, Andrea's voice from the front seat. "Get your fuckin' hands off me." The deputy quickly pulled his hand off of her bare thigh.

Abernathy eyed Andrea appreciably. "Feisty, I like that."

Galloway was glaring at him, not saying anything as the car pulled up in front of the Lantern Glow Inn. The tavern was alive with activity-- lit from within as the generator around back chugged away.

In the second vehicle, Quinn and Brad were being removed and guided into the building. Both of them wore a look of defeat.

Abernathy looked at Galloway sincerely. "I know you're looking at me like I'm some James Bond villain. Like you're going to get away again. You know, you can keep playing cat and mouse with us all night, but we're just going to keep capturing you."

"I look forward to it," Galloway replied. "Sooner or later, you're going to run out of men." She thought of the ones that had crashed in the woods, trying to chase them down. Between the gun fight on the hillside, the Sheriff, and the three car pile-up in the woods, Abernathy was down way more men than Galloway's team.

But Abernathy wasn't worried. "I already know about your men. I had a head count. We're just missing your commander, the investigator, and two others. They're going to come for you. I have no doubt about that," he glanced at the tavern. It was lit up like a beacon in the center of town.

Galloway understood what he was driving at. It was meant to draw them in. She prayed that her bosses weren't that stupid.

"Moths are drawn to flames," Abernathy said. The windows of the building reflected in his thick glasses. He looked momentarily sad. He turned back to Galloway. "It's sort of sad, actually. You're a very attractive woman, Lieutenant," he let his eyes travel over her body. "Both you and your little friend. I'd love to enjoy you now. Just take you. But unfortunately, I'd never be able to *really* enjoy you until all the loose ends are wrapped up. Once your four strays have fallen into line, then I'll truly invite you into my world."

"So what now?" Galloway asked.

"You'll entertain my men," Abernathy said. "I feel like that's a fitting punishment for your... disciplinary issues." He ran his hand over her tight jeans. In places where the denim had frayed and her leg was visible, he fingered the holes. Her skin was smooth and warm. "And it's a good reward for the ones who are loyal to me."

Galloway eyed the influx of men who were walking into the tavern. Many wore robes and hoods, but there were a surprising amount in civilian clothing-- gruff men with tattoos and scars and stubble-- the ones who were here willingly, that didn't need Abernathy's powers of coercion.

Abernathy saw where she was looking. "As you can see, I've made quite a few friends from my time in prison. I trust in the ones who trust in me-- the ones who follow me willingly," he gestured to the normal looking men. "And the ones who defy," he looked sadly at the people in the hoods. "Well... they have found salvation."

"You're sick," Andrea said. "Where's my sister?"

Abernathy blinked. A flicker of delight in his eyes, and Andrea realized that mentioning Emily may have been a mistake. "Who's your sister?"

And though she had her sudden reservations, Andrea told him. Abernathy smiled at his driver and sent him to retrieve Emily Tanner. "Don't worry. You'll be a very close family shortly. As for you," he turned to Galloway. "I want to really test out your... abilities." He grinned thoughtfully, and he led them inside.

***

"No way," Lucy shook her head, when she realized what Graver was doing.

Graver had returned to Lucy behind the shed, dragging the limp forms of two hooded cultists. He began to strip them of their robes and hoods.

He smirked at her. "You wanted an outfit change. Now you got one."

"Why though?"

"To blend in," he passed her the robes and the hood. "When in Rome..."

She shook her head at him like he'd gone crazy.

He explained patiently, "They don't know where we are. And I guarantee they can't tell each other apart beneath this theatrical bullshit. Act like them, follow along, and collect information."

"I can't do this," Lucy said, her heart pounding.

"I don't expect you to. I'm going in there alone."

The words chilled her. Dear god! Was he insane?

"I want you to wait out here. If things go to hell, you're my backup. Keep this shit on though, in case you get discovered, you can pretend to be them, and slip away the first chance you get." He handed her his rifle and quickly explained its workings-- similar to his pistol-- barrel, magazine, safety, sights. But it looked intricate and Lucy had her doubts she'd work it correctly. He kept his pistol on him. "It's even easier to hit your target with a rifle than a pistol. If you can, rest the rifle on something stationary, center your sights on your target and squeeze. It's a tack-driver, so you can trust my optics. You *won't* miss."

She looked pale and nervous.

Graver continued. "See that piece of equipment?" He pointed to the loudly chugging generator just behind the bar. "That's what they're using to light this whole building. If I give you the signal, you yank that plug right out of it, and you run like hell. When it goes dark in there, things are going to get crazy. So don't stop for me. I'll meet you back at the cabin. Have the Jeep running, and if I don't show up in ten minutes, you get the fuck out of here. The town, everything. Get as far away as you can. Understand?"

Her heart was pounding violently now. "What's the signal?" her throat was dry.

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet. But you'll *know* it when it happens."

Lucy didn't like the sound of any of this. Her eyes were pleading. She about to shake her head and protest to all of this.

But Graver's confidence in her wasn't shaken. "It's just us out here. We're a team. I'll keep you safe, but I'm counting on you to keep me safe. I'm just going to dangle myself over the fire for a little bit. I trust that you'll pull me back up when it gets too hot. You can do this."

That was all she needed to hear. "Okay," she said, and the resolve appeared behind that nervous smile. She took a deep breath and her vision became harder. An expression of 'I'm scared, but I won't let you down.'

That same calm easy smile on his face. "I'll bet you regret sneaking along on this trip now, huh?"

Lucy blinked at him, and suddenly the last lingering shreds of anxiety and doubt vanished. She hefted the rifle and looked him straight in the eye. "No," she answered him bluntly. There was strength in her voice. More than she knew she had. "I don't. Not for a second."

"Then I'll see you real soon," Graver said. He had no doubts that she would stand her ground. Then he dawned the robes and moved off toward the tavern, ready to step into the wolf den.

***

The bar was loud and crowded. Galloway took one look at it, and knew they were in trouble. Over a dozen men, at least. They were gathered around the bar, around the pool table. They rummaged for bottles of liquor that hadn't been pilfered. They fought over them like hungry dogs over scraps of meat. They hauled kegs up to the first floor and swore at each other as they hooked them up.

"That shit's going to be warm," one of the men snarled at his friend.

"Who cares?" the other shot back. "The entertainment's here, and I want a drink." He eyed Andrea and Galloway with a lustful look in his eye.

The men that were dressed normally bantered and drank and played pool. But around the peripheral stood the silent cultists in robes. Their tall pointed hoods overshadowed the men at the bar like nightmarish phantoms.

Quinn and Brad sat at a table. Galloway and Andrea were ushered over to them. None of them were bound or cuffed. With Abernathy's power of influence, he wasn't worried. Not to mention the majority of the ruffians around them were armed-- some with Galloway and Quinn's own weapons.

The team had been thoroughly stripped of any useful equipment. The men were especially fond of taunting Quinn, calling him names like "Pig" and making promises of all the vile things that they were going to do to Galloway in front of him.

One of Abernathy's loyal men had managed to locate Emily Tanner, among the hooded cultists. They brought her to the bar. Emily seemed quite out of it, and when Abernathy snapped her out of the trance, it was done more to humiliate her rather than a mercy. She blinked, disoriented and baffled by the sight of her little sister, and her father being held captive in this trashed bar with these trashy men.

"Where am I?" She asked, like a sleep walker who'd just woken up. She looked down at her robes. "What the hell am I wearing?" Then she peered beneath, and was even more horrified. "Why am I naked underneath?"

"It's a long story that we'll probably never get to," Andrea replied dryly.

"Gentlemen," Abernathy called to the crowded room. His manner wasn't loud. But it was steady and even. Psychotic, is how Galloway would have described it. But the room of rough and tumble men quieted down to hear him. They feared him, so for that reason, they obeyed. "As a reward for your devotion and your dedication, tonight I will be treating you." He introduced the captives by name. "This is Lieutenant Galloway and Sergeant Quinn. They're a couple." The men roared with delight by this news, giving fake "aww's" of adoration. But they delighted even more when Abernathy introduced the Tanners, and explained their relation to each other-- daddy and two daughters.

"Lucky Daddy," one of the men grinned. The girls blushed, their expressions nervous.

Abernathy continued. "They're going to be entertaining--" He trailed off when a towering giant of a man stormed into the tavern, rain-drenched and naked-- another convict. His huge manhood swung limply between his legs like a firehose. Galloway, Andrea, and Emily all eyed it with a mix of unease and ever-so-slight curiosity. If he was going to participate in this, he was going to utterly wreck them...

But the Giant paid the girls no mind. He was joined by several others who were equally wet and naked. He hurried over to Abernathy, a look of dismay on his face.

"The investigator and the soldiers-- they ones who survived the blast. They found the church. They came inside."

Abernathy was momentarily caught off guard. He bristled at the news. He shot a look to the men gathered around the room. "Wallace, did they see--"

"They saw the orgy."

"But did they *see*," he emphasized the word, not wanting to be more specific out loud in front of his captives.

"I don't know," the big man replied, rather dumbly. "It was still open."

Abernathy grew pale. "Where did they go?"

Wallace could only shrug. Abernathy swore in a very uncharacteristic way. His voice grew high and whiny. Like needling headache taking hold. If that investigator knew... if she and her team actually managed to get away, then this whole thing might be for nothing. His usual calm manner was rattled. He rubbed his forehead in thought. The stress lines across his brow made him appear suddenly older.

Finally after a moment, he replied. "It- it doesn't matter. They'll come for their friends, and when they do--" He fell silent as he saw his captives regarding him. Galloway was wearing an insufferable smirk across her attractive face. He was suddenly furious. "Entertain the men!" He shouted at them. His composure shattered. "Anything they say. No matter how disturbing or perverse. You hear me? All of you!" He said to the group, and stormed his way out of the room, into the night.

The five of them blinked stupidly as the psychotic leader of all of this departed in a huff. They could hear him let out a shriek of frustration that gave even the men in the bar cause to hesitate. But that didn't last long as they returned their attention to the three captive women.

"You heard him, ladies. We want to be entertained." One of them wandered to the juke box and made some selections. The steady beat of 'Black Velvet' rolled through the room, and broke the uncomfortable tension that all of them had been feeling.

"Kiss, sluts!" One of them shouted, to the cheers of the men. "We want to see some girl on girl action!"

Galloway and Andrea turned to each other. Andrea was blinking, her body frozen and her movements robotic.

Galloway made the first move. She leaned in and delicately placed her lips on Andrea's and slid her tongue wetly over the girl's mouth in a sensual lick. The men-- at least the ones who weren't in cloaks-- let out an uproarious cheer that thundered throughout the room.