Before the dawn

A teenager receives a night time visit by a supernatural entity.

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Before the dawn

Before the Dawn – by guest author Storytime Sam

I drifted silently across the large lawn, the moon overhead unable to penetrate the deep unnatural blackness in which I cloaked myself. The night was cold and still, the snow on the ground fresh and unmolested. I left no footprints.

I never leave footprints.

Had anyone been watching, they would have seen nothing but a shadow as I stalked up the porch of the large farmhouse in this remote part of Pennsylvania. I could sense my prey inside. Though I had already eaten twice this night, I was still hungry. I needed more. Always more.

Two hunting dogs lay on the porch, snoring contently. I paused for a moment to watch their hot breath rise in large puffs. They were good beasts, loyal and trusted. Had a human visitor approached, they would have no doubt awoken and guarded the house menacingly.

I am no human visitor.

For a few moments, my body became a dark incorporeal mist and I slid effortlessly under the front door. It was easy. The residents had no idea I was coming. I appeared in the entryway of the home and let my senses fill the space. Two adults upstairs. A young girl, barely pubescent, near them. Below, in the basement, was a teenage male. My prey.

I glided up the stairs without making a sound and slid casually into the girl’s bedroom. Without hesitation, for I had done this innumerable times before, I stalked over to her bed and leaned in. My lips danced close to her ear as I whispered almost inaudibly “Sleep through the night.”

The girl murmured in her sleep but I was already entering her parent’s bedroom. I proffered the same command to each of them, ensuring they wouldn’t wake until the morning. Then I left the second floor and, finding a door to the basement off the kitchen, I slipped into the blackness below.

The room was dark, with only a small basement window providing the room’s only light. That window was well away from where my prey slept. The room was typical of a teenage boy, with posters on the wall and the general disarray of clothing and electronics scattered on the floor. I’d seen this room hundreds of thousands of times, on different continents and with different cultures and at different moments in history. Teenage boys always have similar rooms.

But the room didn’t interest me. Lying on his bed, in a pair of boxers and with his comforter thrown off, was the teenage boy. The boy was a perfect specimen. His body was firm and supple. His skin was smooth and unblemished. The boy was handsome. He was also hard as a rock; his undergarments tented obscenely.

I crouched next to the boy and my lips hovered just above his ear. “You are powerless to resist me, boy.” I whispered. “You have no control. Your body is mine to do with as I please.” The boy moaned slightly in his sleep. “You cannot move unless I tell you to. You cannot scream for help. You cannot yell to your neighbours.” The boy whimpered, still deep in slumber. “I need your seed to survive. You will give it to me. Now wake.”

The boy gave a sudden deep intake of breath and began to shudder as he awoke. Like all my prey, he tried in vain to move around. He was unsuccessful. I stood and looked down at the boy. The room was very dark and the only light was well away from us. To the boy, I appeared only as a dark shape in an already dark room. Darkness had no affect on me, though, and I watched as the boy’s eyes darted this way and that. He was afraid.

I reached down and grasped the waistband of his underwear. He squeaked in fright. In one quick movement, I pulled the flimsy material down past his feet and tossed it to the ground, admiring the boy’s beautiful body. His cock was nearly five inches long with a small tuft of public hair at the base. His balls were hairless. Perfect. Grasping his wrists, I pulled his hands to my mouth and licked his palms, making them slick with my potent saliva. Then I let go.

“Jerk yourself off” I said quietly. “Cum on your stomach and chest.”

The boy groaned as his left hand darted to his cock and his right hand darted to his balls. In a moment, he was rapidly fisting himself over and over again while small moans escaped his lips. I watched, enjoying the show. His left hand flew from base to tip, my saliva the best lubricant there was, while his right hand rubbed his nutsack vigorously. The room was filled with the slick squelching of a boy masturbating and my stomach rumbled in hunger.

“Ah! Oh! Aaahhhh!!!” the boy grunted as his chest lurched upward and several thick shots of teenage cum splattered noisily onto his chest and stomach. He continued to masturbate for a moment more before a contented sigh escaped his lips and his body relaxed. I dove in.

Grasping his left hand, I licked his palm and fingers as a greedy child might lick an ice-cream cone. That finished, I lapped up the puddle that had formed at the base of his cock and then began to explore upwards. The boy had produced a great deal of semen and, as my lips and tongue traveled around his stomach and chest and nipples, I felt some of my hunger abate. The boy cooed for a moment before another sharp intake of breath indicated his mind had caught up with what was happening. Then he began to whimper in fright.

I rose and turned, spotting the thing that had caught my eye earlier. A laptop, sitting open on a desk. I smiled. Hunting in first-world countries had advantages. Sliding into the chair, I turned on the machine and it came to life. The boy gave a startled cry as light burst forth and I was revealed in full to him. He began to weep silently. I took no offense; I’d be scared of me as well.

A password was required so I asked the boy lying a few feet from me his password. He responded immediately despite his tears. I typed it in and had access to the machine.

For centuries, I had been required to entertain myself while I waited for my prey to recuperate. Now, every home in this country had televisions and computers that were fascinating opportunities for me to pass the time. And pass the time I did. For the next twenty minutes or so, I surfed the various news sites before the grumbling in my stomach drew me away. It was time to feed again.

I lowered the screen and the room became dark once more. The boy, having calmed himself slightly in the intervening time, began to breathe heavily again. It didn’t matter. Getting close to him, I spun the boy around so his legs were hanging off of his bed. Then, grasping him behind the knees, I pulled his legs up so his knees nearly touched his ear. “Use your hands to spread your ass open, boy” I said quietly and he did as I had commanded. His virgin asshole filled my vision.

I dove in again, latching my mouth onto his small tight pucker. The boy’s warmth radiated outward and I heard the boy give a strangled cry. Then I began to lick his entrance vigorously. For a moment, he continued to cry.

Then he began to moan.

I pushed my tongue into him. One inch. Two inches. Four inches. My tongue slithered out of my mouth rapidly, all six inches wriggling up into his colon as his moans grew louder. Then, in one quick motion, I retracted my tongue entirely from his entrance and rammed it back in again.

“OHHH!!!” the boy groaned as his ass clenched against my invading appendage. Again, I retracted my tongue and rammed it back in. Again, the boy gave a startled groan. My lips never unfastening from his shitter, I pounded him faster and faster with my dexterous tongue.

The boy began to shake after a minute and I knew the pleasure was eating away at him. My tongue was darting in and out of him incredibly fast and the boy’s unbroken moaning was growing in volume and pitch. Then, all of a sudden, his asshole grasped my tongue in a vice grip and the boy began to yelp. “AH! AH! OH! UGHH!!” he cried, as my ears picked up the sound of his cum hitting his chest once again. The boy had climaxed from his anal stimulation.

They always do.

As his climax died down, I dropped the boy’s legs and began to slurp and lick at the teenage seed pooling on his heaving chest. It was delicious. The boy, of course, was crying silently while wondering what I was going to do to him. The boy probably assumed he wouldn’t make it out of here alive.

He assumed wrongly, of course. I never hurt my prey. They provide me with life. If you slaughter your cow, you can no longer drink its milk. He didn’t need to know that, though, as terror tended to make cum taste a bit sweeter. And his seed was sweet.

For the first few minutes after that second snack, I surfed the internet. Then boredom overtook me. When one has lived as long as I, the current topics of the day tend to be repetitive. It’s all occurred before.

Lying next to the computer was an open mathematics book and the boy’s homework lying mostly finished. Out of curiosity, I scanned his mathematics worksheet and quickly realized that math was not this boy’s forte. In fact, he’d gotten quite a few of the problems wrong.

Frowning, I picked up a pencil and began to make corrections. It took nearly a half an hour but, by the time I closed the book and approached the boy, his worksheet was completely accurate.

Apparently, the boy had watched me doing his homework in the dark and gave me a confused look. I said nothing. Instead, I knelt down and began to run my long tongue over his deflated cock; slipping the morsel into my mouth. It responded.

Soon, the boy’s engorged flesh was stiff and I began to bob up and down on his member. My lips glided firmly over the taut skin while my talented tongue rubbed mercilessly across his sensitive coronal head. The boy began to squeak every time the tip of my tongue grazed the underside of his cockhead and I could hear his heartbeat growing faster and faster.

I started humming, my mouth vibrating quite intensely, and the boy’s repeated squeaks became a low muffled moan. I grinned internally – it was so easy to get these youngsters off. I sped up, bouncing from base to tip imperceptibly fast as I snaked one long finger under the boy. The next time the boy inhaled, I slid the finger deep inside of him; his asshole slick with my saliva already and his body unprepared for my invading digit.

“OHHHEEEAAAA” he cried, the sound bouncing off the walls of the basement as the boy climaxed for a third time. Spurt after spurt erupted in my mouth and I sucked it all down, eager for my treat and glad I had picked this house. “Oh! Oh! No! No!” the boy cried, chanting in time with my head bobs. A moment later, I relented and released the boy.

The teen was a mess. His body was covered in sweat. His hair was sticking in every direction. His nose had run slightly and glimmered on his upper lip. His breathing was heavy and strained.

I was pleasantly full.

Something caught my attention behind me and I turned, my eyes darting to the window. Though it was still pitch black outside, a few subtle beams of light had crept into the room and reminded me that the night was nearly over. Shortly, day would break.

“Hm…” I muttered to myself, weighing my options.

Another, like me, was waiting for me in the city several miles away. An old friend, he and I like to meet every decade or so and exchange tales of our passing years. We were supposed to meet tomorrow. That said, I didn’t think I had time to make it before the sun rose. Not wanting to chance it and knowing he wouldn’t be inconvenienced if I arrived a day late (he had arrived late on numerous occasions), I decided to spend the day here.

In this basement.

With this cute teenage boy.

Grinning, I closed the curtain on the sole window and glided upstairs to whisper commands into the ears of the family above. They would leave the boy alone all day. They would think he was sick. They wouldn’t step foot in the basement at all. They would ignore any sounds coming from down there.

I’d whispered those same commands in the ears of many families over the centuries. I’ve yet to be disturbed.

……..

It had been half an hour since the last rays of daylight filled the air. Contented, I glided under the front door of the house where I’d spent my day, past the sleeping dogs, over the un-trodden snow, and into the woods. Far in the distance, the twinkling man-made lights of the city fought a losing battle against the darkness as I ghosted across the countryside towards my friend and his hiding place.

Night had fallen.

The day had been enjoyable. It always is. While I spend the nights feeding the hunger in my belly, I spend the days feeding the hunger in my loins. Generally, I follow the same routine and my day with this most recent boy had been no exception.

I shoved my fat bloated cock into his virgin shitter exactly as the sun crested the horizon while I whispered to him that it wouldn’t leave his body until nightfall. The reaction of masculine teenage boys when they hear they are going to be fucked from dawn to dusk is too precious to describe. This boy didn’t disappoint. He cried. He wept. He pleaded. He bargained.

Then he climaxed.

Oh yes, he climaxed. I fucked him for nearly an hour and, the moment his mother called his sister down for breakfast, the boy gave an earth-shattering scream and soaked himself in his cum. It was hands-free, too, as I refuse to let my boys touch themselves for the first few orgasms. They tend to become docile after I’ve ripped several powerful climaxes from them without their boy-parts being touched.

The boy seemed to get into it around noon and I didn’t blame him. I’d manoeuvred us to his desk where I managed to access his laptop while I enthusiastically bounced the boy on my lap. Though my hands were busy latched onto his slim waist and jack-hammering him up and down on my stiff member, I was able to pull up numerous pornographic websites for the teen and gave him permission to play with himself while he watched movie after movie of girls in remarkably similar situations. The boy didn’t climax quite as much two hours later when I switched the images to exclusively men but, then again, the boy was obviously heterosexual. Shortly before sundown, I lay down on the boy’s floor while he sat, impaled on my member, and stared at me numbly. As I usually do, I gave the boy a choice. Fuck himself silly on my tool and get me off (I was close) or suffer through another twenty-four hours with me in his bedroom. No fool, the boy opted to get me off and, using his long coltish legs, bounced up and down in a desperate bid for freedom. Of course, my hand quickly snaked up between his legs and I jerked his hard teenage cock in time with his own rhythm. He climaxed first. I followed a moment later.

Then I left. The boy would remember none of it, of course. Neither would his parents. But I would remember and, as the silent trees passed me by and I began to enter the city proper, I would relay today’s fun to my friend. Perhaps he would want to stop at the same house on his way out of town?

I wouldn’t. I was heading towards Michigan. Towards many more dark nights. Towards many more creeping dawns.

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