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Message-ID: <30509asstr$991156204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Shon Richards" <shonrichardshsd@earthlink.net>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 29 May 2001 04:56:03 PDT
Subject: {ASSM} A Night at Indian's Hollow {Shon Richards} (M/F)
Date: Tue, 29 May 2001 13:10:04 -0400
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   This story contains sex, just so you know.  This story is also mine, and
permission is given for it to be archived as long as you make no money from
it, and this heading remains intact.  The author is on his bony knees,
begging for comments at shonrichardshsd@earthlink.net

   A Night at Indian's Hollow, By Shon Richards

   The were the usual rumors surrounded this year's Halloween celebration
at Indian's Hollow.  Some people thought the FBI was going to raid us for
sure this year, while others thought we were going to be raided by Baptists
in pick-up trucks.  Most of my friends were banking on the rumor that
Halloween would be extended into a week long ceremony, but I think that's
just wishful thinking.  My parents believed that this year all of the Gods
were going to be armed, since we had more non-believers in town.  The most
recent rumor revolved around the town elders adding new Gods to the event,
while the oldest rumor was that the lottery was a sham and the elders chose
all the gods.  Despite the rumors, all the men and women of legal age still
dropped their forty dollars into purchasing their lottery tickets.

   I had just turned twenty-one this August, so this was my first year in
the lottery.  I was excited.  Of course everyone had seen some of the
incarnations, and everyone had a hint or a glimpse at what the duties were,
but the Gods were still shrouded in prestige and mystery.  It was easier
for a child of Indian's Hollow to find out how to reproduce than it was to
find out just what the Gods did on Halloween.  By purchasing a ticket, I
thought I would finally be told the mysteries.  I was wrong.  The most I
got out of my parents were guilty looks and the most I could get from my
boss at the grocery store was, "Don't worry about such things till you're
the head of your own household."

   Luckily, or perhaps planned by the Elders, I didn't have to wait that
long.  I was one of the chosen.

   The secrecy was still present when I was informed that I won.  Mr. 
Vrice, an Elder, was waiting for me at my house when I got home from work.
He had already talked to my parents, and told them I was to perform a duty
for the town.  That meant mom was crying when I left; sometimes duties for
the town can involve leaving to go on missions.  I was a bit upset myself,
but Mr.  Vrice told me as soon as we got in the white van what the real
deal was.

   The terror didn't seem to fade, though.

   Nineteen other people were waiting for me at the Church, meaning that
there were no plans to add any more Gods this Halloween.  I recognized all
of the people; it wasn't that large of a town.  I didn't try to talk to
them; there was a nervous silence that wasn't going to be broken by me.  We
just sat quietly in a Sunday school classroom as Mr.  Vrice read briefly
from the Green Bible.

   "Good evening, Brothers and Sisters, you have been blessed by God to
represent the Lesser Gods this Halloween," Elder Vrice said with warmth
that didn't touch his eyes.  "Before we begin, let's take a moment to
reflect on how Ignatius Nowell came to fond our town."

   Not a single groan was heard among the winners, though I'm sure we all
shared the same exasperation.  Growing up in Indian's Hollow we had all
heard the story a million times.  All of us knew how Ignatius Howell came
out to the pristine wilderness of North Carolina to track down the last
remaining archeological evidence of the Tuscarora Native Americans in the
summer of 1931.  Even small children knew the details of the Eight Dreams
of Clarity that Nowell had while digging for arrowheads.  Elder Vrice left
out the part where Nowell was experimenting with opium while digging, but
then, the town has always held that part to be vicious slander.

   Then Elder Vrice followed up with an overview of what CBS's "48 Hours"
called "A mixture of Freud, Christianity, Native American myth and Stephen
King." In other words, he explained the finer details of our religion.  I
was impressed though, it's not everyone who can name all fifty of the
Lesser Gods.  Being young, I was of course a bit skeptical, but I was
respectful.  It's the religion of my parents, and the religion of the
majority of Indian's Hollow, so who am I to say they're wrong?

   When Elder Vrice felt that we were in the proper religious mood, he
began to walk around the classroom pushing a cart.  At each of our desks,
he left an unmarked box.  I couldn't tell if the boxes were randomly
assigned or not.  I guess it's just another mystery of the Church.

   Opening my box, I was greeted with the grinning face of some sort of
Wolf mask.  It was very detailed, decorated with apparently real fur. 
There were a few stains on it, as well as too much glitter for my taste,
but all in all, it was a mask that demanded respect.  At the time, all I
could do was tremble.  I recognized this God.

   "Hey!  He got the Fertility Wolf!" snapped the guy next to me.  "That's
not right.  Look, he's got glasses and he's skinny!"

   "My mistake, Brother Craig," Elder Vrice said with slight amusement. 
"The Elders didn't realize that you were more qualified to distribute the
costumes.  Perhaps we can arrange a meeting after this Halloween so that we
can make better use of your talents."

   Everyone laughed.  Craig didn't answer, which was the right thing to do.
Sarcasm came easy to the Elders, and they weren't too pleased when others
didn't find them amusing.  Oh, it's not like a person would get killed or
anything.  They just know better, that's all.

   "Don't forget, once Halloween begins at dusk, you will no longer be
members of this town.  You'll be assuming the roles of the Lesser Gods,
acting as their agents in Indian's Hollow.  That means no smoking, Brother
Martin, and please refrain from cursing, Sister Victoria.  It might be
disturbing if the Wealth Pig Goddess said 'son of a bitch' while on the
holiest night of the year.  Young ladies, this means you shouldn't wave to
your family or friends when you see them.  The congregation demands a
mystique from their Gods, and trust me on this: They don't really want to
know who you really are.  Not during, not after, and not ten years from
now."

   "More importantly," Elder Vrice continued as he returned to the head of
the classroom.  He paused till we were all looking right at him.  "More
importantly, the Elders don't want you to reveal who you are.  It's for the
best this way."

   Later, as I began my rounds in town, I saw Elder Vrice's wisdom
concerning secrecy.  It wasn't the citizen's happiness that concerned me,
it was my dignity.  My costume consisted of the Fertility Wolf's mask, a
pair of furry boots, and glitter.  That's it, not even underwear to protect
myself from the breeze.  I was the most naked God of the night; even the
Punishing Snake was allowed to wear pants.  The female Elder who doused me
in glitter assured me that I would stay warm all night, which didn't
comfort me that much.  That's because she explained to me the rituals of
the night.

   The good news was that everyone was paying more attention to my
companion Goddess than looking at me.  The Moon Harlot was Sandra Vogel,
the high school's Algebra teacher, who was already the beauty of the town.
The large natural breasts I had lusted after since high school were
revealed in all her glory.  I was granted a special thrill to know I had
finally seen the near-mythical mammaries, and that no one else in town
would know whose breasts they had seen that night.  Once she'd placed her
long brown hair into her headdress/mask, slid her feet into the silver
Romanesque sandals that tied around her shapely calves, and had her nipples
adorned with small cloth circles that had to be glued on, she became the
collective wet dream of the town.  At least her costume had real diamonds,
placed on her mask and on her nipple covering.  The Moon Harlot had to
suffer through a similar amount of glitter, but where my glitter was
golden; hers was the silver of the moon.  Thank God they didn't color my
pubic hair like they did hers, I think I would die of embarrassment if the
woman Elder who clothed me had colored my pubic hair as well.

   We rehearsed our greeting in the van, our assigned Elder insisting we
say it in sync together.  Elder Wein was a small man, but the loud voice he
snapped on us kept our attention.  He carried a rather large clipboard with
him and consulted a map as he carried us to the first house.  Since he
didn't seem to treat us with reverence, I thought it wouldn't break my role
if I asked a question.  Plus, it kept me from staring at the Moon Harlot's
celestial objects.

   "How do the Elders know which houses the Gods visit?" I asked.  "I've
noticed in years past, the Gods never overlap in their journeys around
town."

   "We use the stars, like Ignatious Nowell used when he first contacted
the wisdom of God.  Why do you think the Elders spend so much time in
seclusion?" he asked, rather casually as he parked.

   You don't get to be twenty-one in this town without realizing a
potential pitfall of a question when you hear it.

   "Oh, I had no idea what they did," I answered, perhaps even truthfully.
"Astrology was one of those subjects I was never good at.  I prefer to
leave that responsibility to the Elders."

   That seem to please him, though I detected a smile from Ms.  Vogel that
made me nervous.  I kept a straight face as we approached the door to our
first house, holding hands with the Moon Harlot as we had been trained. 
She pushed the doorbell, while Elder Wein kept a respectful distance behind
us.

   "Bane or Blessing!" the Moon Harlot and I called out.

   A man answered the door, and relaxed when he saw us.

   "The Vern household will take the bane," he said, and the Moon Harlot
entered into the house.  When the door closed, I turned to Elder Wein, who
was making a note on the clipboard.

   "Praise be to God for giving us a pleasant night to wait patiently,"
said Elder Wein, who anticipated my question.  I simply nodded, and waited.


   Ten minutes later, the Moon Harlot came out, and told Elder Wein that
the Vern household had suffered their bane with satisfaction.  He nodded,
and then we went to the next house.  God, I was dying to ask Ms.  Vogel
what the bane was, but I knew better than to break character like that. 
Walking around butt-naked, my horny imagination came up with all sorts of
scenarios.  What kind of private activity could be considered a bane when
it involved Ms.  Vogel?  Did she kick them in the nads?

   We went to every house on Archer Drive, and at every house, the
household always choose bane.  That's eight homes, and eight porches that I
stood outside with my wiener hanging out.  After every home, I would study
the Moon Harlot.  For what, I'm not sure.  She didn't seem to walk funny,
and her glitter didn't seem to be coming off on any part of her body.  By
the time we got back into the van, I was bursting with questions.

   "How do the houses know which to pick?  I thought they didn't even know
who was coming?" I asked.

   "They don't know who is coming," confirmed Elder Wein.  "But when they
see who is at their door, the head of the household can assess themselves
and accept the bane or blessing as they see fit."

   "I guess I don't understand," I said slowly, phrasing my question in
such a way that didn't seem disobedient.  "How does God prevent people from
picking the blessing, when they know they deserve the bane?"

   Elder Wein looked at me via the rearview mirror, an expression on his
face that might have been astonishment.

   "You will find that most people are happy to atone for their guilt when
the opportunity arises," he answered.  "There, look at your fellow God, the
Blight Bat, performing his duties."

   I looked where he directed and saw the Blight Bat, in full padded armor,
bashing the hell out of some man's car.  He was using the ax that was part
of his costume to smash the windshield and hack at the tires.  I could see
the owner of the car watching quietly from his porch, standing there with
the Wealth Pig and their attendant Elder.  It wasn't the first time I had
seen the Blight Bat destroy a man's property, but it was the first time I
knew that the destruction was voluntary.

   "Never forget that the duty you perform as a Lesser God is always
sanctioned by the public," Elder Wein reminded us sternly.  "You must
perform the bane without hesitation, for you are bringing the punishments
the faithful know they deserve.  The same goes for the blessings.  Never
question yourself, Wolf, for the people must receive their blessing with
the same conviction that they face their banes.  Do you understand?"

   "Sure," I said, and then jumped as the Moon Harlot placed her hand
between my legs.

   "I've had no problems with giving the banes so far," Ms Vogel said as
she stroked my quickly growing cock.  Elder Wein didn't appear to notice,
and I didn't dare turn my head to look the Moon Harlot in the face.  Was it
a sin to fornicate with other Gods?  Did I want to find out?

   The van stopped at Martyr's Lane, and we disembarked again.  My cock was
hard, swinging between my legs like an angry horse.  Elder Wein didn't
comment, for which I was grateful.  My mind got back on my job at the first
house; they chose bane.  We skipped the second and third house, according
to Elder Wein's secret schedule.  At the fourth house, the lights were off,
but we stepped forward anyway.



   "Bane or Blessing!" we yelled, to which there was no answer.

   "Let's go," Elder Wein growled, marking furiously on his clipboard.

   "Maybe they didn't hear us?" the Moon Harlot said, and Elder Wein
frowned.

   "They knew what night it was; if they choose to ignore the calling of
the Gods, that's their choice," he said.

   The Moon Harlot took my hand as we walked to the next house, and I
shared her concern.  Everyone in town knew of 'somebody' who had missed
their Halloween appointment.  For me, it was Mr.  Garrick who found himself
working weekends at the sawmill for the next entire year.  I've heard
rumors of people who've disappeared or people who had sudden divorces after
missing a God visit, but I think those are nasty rumors.  It's only on
liberal television news programs that religious towns dispose of their
members in gruesome manners.  I'm sure public embarrassment and job
harassment would be enough punishment in Indian's Hollow.

   My mind was taken off of the unfortunates at Martyr Lane, 210, when we
hit the next house.  We assumed our positions as normal, and made our
request.  I recognized the man who opened the door.  He was a senior at my
school when I was a freshman.  Imagine my surprise when he answered the
door and said, quite eagerly, "Blessing."

   When I didn't move at first, Ms.  Vogel gave my hand a squeeze and
gently pushed me forward.  The excitement of the night had my heart racing,
but I maintained a pose of dignity.  I entered the house, giving a short
nod to the man.  God, I hoped he didn't know who I was, or how young I was.
Knowing his shame was bad enough.  I didn't want to compound it by letting
him know how young the God who was here to help was.

   He didn't seem to have any shame, though.  He smiled at me, and careful
not to touch me, he led me back towards his bedroom.  It was there that his
wife was waiting for me, dressed in an almost virginal white chemise.  She
was reclining on the bed, surrounded by burning candles.  My hard cock
surged with a new arousal.  For the first time that night, I really
believed what the Elder had told me when I was instructed on my duties.

   "Thank you, Fertility Wolf, we've been trying for over two years," he
said.  I nodded at him again, and put my hand on the door.  He took the
hint and left.  I might be the Fertility Wolf, but I was going to have some
privacy!  Hiding behind my wolf mask, I approached the bed of the woman who
needed my particular blessing.

   She was beautiful, in that way that semi-nude ladies illuminated by
candlelight always are.  Her brown hair was down, barely touching her
shoulders.  She couldn't be more than two years older than I was, yet she
looked at me with a reverence in her blue eyes that was new to my
experience.  Her chest was rapidly falling as I came near her, her bosom
straining against the sheer material.  Good, she was nervous.  The
chivalrous part of my personality came to the rescue.  In soothing her, I
found it easy to ignore my fears.

   "Ssshh, calm down, there is nothing to fear," I said as I sat next to
her bed.  Funny, but I was still too nervous to actually touch her.

   "I just want to conceive this time," she said, her voice husky from
fear. "I want to give my husband a child, like a husband deserves."

   "Then worry no longer," I said.  "It is not up to you now.  From here
on, it is the duty of the Fertility wolf."

   There must be something special about the mask, because I could see in
her eyes that she believed me.  She reached forward and took my arms,
pulling me towards her.  Moving her body further down the bed, she allowed
her head to rest on her pillow.  Her legs parted slightly for me, the
chemise riding up on her white thighs.  Kneeling on top of her, I assumed
my role, praying that there was magic in these lesser Gods and they were
not just a fevered sex fantasy from Ignatious Nowell.  It felt wrong to be
enjoying this woman, but if there was a chance it would give her the child
she wanted, I would not refuse her.

   The mask restrained my mouth, which was maddening.  I wanted to take her
nipples in my mouth, especially after being teased by the Moon Harlot all
night long.  Instead, I had to use my hands, which I used in proxy for my
mouth.  I cupped her breasts, carefully, as a part of me expected her to
protest.  My thumb and finger found each of her nipples, hidden underneath
the chemise.  When I touched her nipples, the woman cupped her hands over
mine, pressing me more tightly to her bosom.  My cock surged painfully with
arousal.  This simple act on her part was the permission I needed to enjoy
myself.

   Accepted by her, and accepting myself, I relaxed and made a better
effort at the task at hand.  I shifted my attention, letting my hands roam
her body.  The curve of her neck I explored with my fingers, and her
shoulders I gripped as I positioned my legs between her.  Sitting up, I
held her thighs, briefly massaging them as I worked up the courage to enter
her.  I wanted to taste her, kiss her as a way of comforting her, but the
most I could do was touch her, caress her, and massage her as I tried to
get her to relax.

   Her eyes were closed; perhaps she was imagining her husband as my
fingers worked at the tension in her thighs.  Maybe she was fantasizing
about a celebrity, or maybe she was imagining the Fertility Wolf as he
appears in the Green Bible.  I would never know.  I simply touched her,
until finally, she said "Now, please."

   As I guided my cock into her, she moaned softly, saying something I
didn't understand at first, but soon recognized as a prayer.  Her legs
wrapped around my waist, driving me into her with the balls of her heels. I
placed my arms over her shoulders, looking down at the breasts that I
wanted badly to kiss.  Instead, I simply watched them as I moved my hips.
They rocked back with every thrust, slipping free from the cleavage of the
chemise.  It was sexier to focus on her breasts, for when I looked at her
closed eyes and biting lips, it reminded me too much of what this household
had riding on me and the Fertility Wolf.

   The activities of the night, not to mention the prescience of the Moon
harlot, contributed towards its being a short blessing at this household.
Within thrusts of entering her, I was already expelling my seed into the
woman.  Our motions froze as we felt the event occur, and she dug her heels
deeper into my buttocks, almost as if to give my seed a shorter route to
towards her garden.  Slowly, ever so slowly, we thrusted together as we
squeezed every last ounce of seed from my pulsing cock.  It was hot in my
mask, and hotter between her legs, but I didn't complain one bit.  In fact,
I was saying a prayer of my own.

   The husband escorted me out, and I half expected him to take a swing at
me.  Instead, he gave me fifty dollars, which I politely returned to him. I
didn't know the policy of Lesser God tipping, but it seemed to be
fundamentally wrong.  When we left the house, the Moon Harlot and Elder
Wein were waiting.  I have to admit it felt good making them wait for a
change.

   "This household has accepted the blessing," I said, happy that the mask
covered the huge smile I felt on my face.  The Moon Harlot was looking at
me intently, but I let her know nothing of what transpired in this house.
There were other homes to visit, and other blessings and banes waiting for
us.  I motioned for Elder Wein to lead us on.

   The End

   "We have a blind date with Destiny, and it looks like she's ordering the
lobster."- The Shoveler

   My stories are kept at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/ShonRichards



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