The Darke (episode one)


(Imagine if you will a Danger Doll Satellite Television series not unlike the Twilight Clone, Night Galley or Tales of the Nondescript and you have The Darke. The Darke is an undefined evil force as it were which prevades these stories. These scenes are intended as acting opportunities for the Danger Doll team, produced in an old EC style as much as possible.)

 


The old Darke Mansion looming through the fog as you drive up to it... the credits rolling as Susan MacDuff, government inspector, steps out and walks up to the front door... checking to see if anyone is living in the old mansion... or if it can be bulldozed to make way for a new shopping mall...

Susan mounts the front stairs in her four-inch heels... crisp business suit hugging her curves tightly... tries the doorbell first with a gloved hand... then knocks on the door as well... waiting patiently for a moment before trying the door... attempting to turn the knob...

The knob resisting at first... then suddenly turning with ease... almost as if someone unlocked it somehow... but nobody there... the hall empty... lavish staircase leading up... and rooms leading off... complete silence reigns... not a whisper...

Susan steps inside... "Hello... anybody home? Susan MacDuff here... I'm checking to see if anybody still lives here..." waiting for a moment as her voice echoes back from the wings... she sighs and moves to the stairs... pencil skirt pulling tight about her nylon-clad knees with every step...

The door softly closing behind you as you mount the stairs... the clicking of your heels on the mahogany echoing through the house... even as you hear a strange hissing noise from behind you... getting closer... and closer...

Susan instinctively rushes on up the stairs to escape the pursuer... going faster than the tight skirt allows in face... tripping as it hobbles her... dropping her purse as she spills over the top step onto the hardwood... looking back over the shoulder of her satin blouse... eyes wide...

Some awful cross between a snake and a centipede creeping up the stairs towards you... having escaped from one of the rooms... like a long, thick anaconda... with hundreds of scuttling insect legs... creeping closer and closer... mouth already horrifyingly wide as it attempts to swallow you feet first...

Susan screams and bicycles her pecan-tinted legs... kicking wildly... losing both heels as she crawls away across the floor... scrambling up and backing away... until her back is against the wall... looking back and forth... grabbing a coat rack and attempting to club the genetic mutation...

The hissing creature slithering closer... driven back by the smacking coat rack... rearing... attempting to strike and catch hold of you...

Susan beats the horrible thing repeatedly until it grabs the wooden rack away from her... chomping it into two three wood pieces... Susan swinging open a door as the centisnake strikes at her again... it's head hitting the door... then taking a bite out of it as she rushes into the room beyond...

The snake gnawing at the door... mad as... well, a snake... as you hurry through the corridor beyond... moving towards a steel door that might block out the savage centisnake... or lock you in with a new trap...

Susan gives the creature a concerned glance as it breaks through the wooden door... deciding she has no choice... opens the steel door and pads past in stocking feet... pulling the door shut behind her...

The steel door shutting with a resounding clang... leaving you in what looks like a large steel chamber... about ten foot square... with a glass floor... over an illuminated pool of clear water... a chill running down your spine as a barracuda swims into view... then another... and another...

Susan realizing she has leapt from the frying pan... into the fire... also coming to the conclusion that the creature was no leftover mutation living in the basement... but part of an active set of traps...examining the walls and ceiling for any possible escape routes... before the floor retracts...

The glass floor slowly beginning to slide out from underneath you... from the far end of the room... whispering against the soles of your feet... the barracuda already snapping and leaping from the surface... the only way out either through the water... and past the snapping jaws... or through the door you just entered... the snake perhaps having gone away... if you can get it open again...

Susan looks down through the glass... past the reflection of an up-skirt reflection of her legs and powder blue panties... at what seems to be a sure and messy death... trying the handle on the steel door behind her... prepared to take her chances with the mutated snake...

The door swinging open... the snake still there... and immediately charging... at full speed... hissing as it launches itself towards you... framed in the steel doorway...

Susan sidesteps... holding onto the door handle as it swings open... gasping as the snakes jaws tear through the fabric of her skirt... removing a chunk of it... and opening a run in the nylons beneath as it flashes past... sliding across the glass... tumbling into the water as the glass floor recedes completely... Susan hanging from the swinging door...

The barracudas tearing into the mutant snake... turning the water red as they all go into the feeding frenzy... the sickening sight showing you what might have happened to you if you'd fallen into the water... leaving you to swing back through the doorway onto solid ground... looking deeply disheveled... and looking around for the next trap...

Susan takes a deep breath as her stocking feet find the hardwood floor... realizing that the mansion must be full of traps... slinking quickly back the way she came... toward the stairs... anxious to get out of the mansion... and call experts in to dismantle it...

The stairs underneath you creaking gently... as you pad slowly down them... the front door in sight... before the whole stairway flattens... forming a slick, slippery slide of varnished wood... leading down towards a trapdoor that swings open at the bottom...

Susan gasps and tumbles... limbs flailing as she slides toward the trapdoor... torn skirt bunching up on her thighs as falls past the opening... disappearing into darkness beyond... the sound of "Noooooo" remaining audible a little bit longer...

You fall through the blackness... to finally land in a sticky netting... or perhaps... webbing... a net of spidery silk that clings and sticks as you writhe and thrash against it...

Susan struggles for a moment until she realizes she is getting nowhere... then ceases... taking a moment to access her situation... suspended in some sort of sticky netting... surrounded by darkness... her eyes slowly adjusting...

A rustling noise coming from the webbing... your eyes widening as you see thousands of insects... half spider... half ant... scuttling towards you... beginning to crawl all over you... taking painful little bites...

Susan screams and begins to struggle frantically once more... as she feels the stinging bites begin to come here there and everywhere... ripping open her blouse and unbuckling her skirt... coming out of her clothes... trying to fall from the web...

The strands mostly holding onto your clothes... as you fall out of them... taking a few sticky threads of spider silk with you... tumbling onto the floor of the basement room... another steel door leading out... as cool air from a nearby vent makes your nipples stand up for the cameras...

Susan brushes a few remaining creepy crawlies away... before tucking her nipples back into her powder blue bra... racing for the door... in only pantyhose and undergarments... desperate to escape this mansion of horrors...

The door opening on a conservatory... built onto the side of the mansion... the twilight streaming in through the glass... as you see the outside... at the end of the glass corridor... lined with all manner of strange plants...

Susan raises a brow at the sight... glad to have the light to see by... seeing a door to the outside at the other end of the greenhouse... racing forward through the rows of plants...

The plants reacting as you race past them... fronds and vines reaching out... slithering across you... attempting to grab hold of you... the plants evidently carnivorous... and in need of fresh meat... as you try to escape their clutches...

Susan gasps at the first touch... spinning away... screaming as vine wraps around her neck... hands flying up... grabbing the vine... pulling it over her head... swinging the plant and the pot that holds it around by the vine in her hands... knocking other pots aside as she weaves her way to the door...

The plant writhing... but unable to avoid being used as a weapon... as you batter your way to the door... smashing through the glass rather than trying the handle... and running down the driveway towards your car... even as the whole mansion seems to come alive with scuttling horrors... winding out of open windows... chasing you off their property...

Susan sprints to her car... ample assets bouncing in powder blue... blinking as she reaches for the door handle... a note... "Did you leave your keys inside? The Darke..." gaping... shaking her head... running for the road beyond... as laughter echoes all around in the falling darkness... and the screen fades to black…

******

MollyWhipple roars through the dark desert night in her mustang... toward the flashing neon of a strip club on the overlook at the edge of the salt flats... miles in the distance... the blinking sign with a chainsaw logo going through alternating colors... "Grindhouse!"

It would be hard to see... half-buried in the dirt and gravel of the road... cruel barbs arranged like over lapping scales... the band is set across the road... the other end lost in some scrubby bushes.

MollyWhipple nearly loses control as her tires blow out with out warning, fighting the steering as the car squeals to a stop sideways, after leaving pieces of rubber and a shower of sparks in its wake.

The chain is yanked back to the bushes in a quick pull... only slightly skittering across the gravel... out there in the dark a set of Night vision goggles kick on... through his eyes you see him focus on her car.

MollyWhipple pounds a fist down on the wheel... "Damn it! I'm already running late... I'll never make it in time for my first dance now!" A girl dressed in tight pink spandex from head to toe gets out and looks at the tires. "All four? What the fuck!"

While watching through the night vision you hear the heavy breathing... low, raspy... to her left... scuddling in a gully a ragged figure moves... something long in one hand... getting within rushing range.

MollyWhipple turns her visor in that direction. "Who's there?" She goes into a fighting stance as her mind puts two and two together. "Why did you blow my tires?"

The night vision lets out a little startled intake of breath, astounded by her perception. She must be choice meat indeed. The man in the gully leaps up with a blood-curdling cry... ax handle wrapped in barbed wire in one hand, rushing her and ending with a quick savage swing.

MollyWhipple whips off her helmet and, in one motion, blocks the swinging ax handle down into the asphalt. Her face turns out to be covered by the same pink spandex as the rest of her slender body, eyes inside the hood narrowing as she high kicks a dancer's leg up at her attacker's head.

The long leg strikes the hairy man’s head... sending him spinning back with a thin line of blood arcing in the night sky. Behind her something whispers... the sound of metal on metal... the spiked chain swings to coil about her standing leg.

MollyWhipple gasps as she feels something wrap around her ankle, biting through the pink spandex as it tightens, then yanking her off her feet. "Eek! Nngh..." She grunts as her pink bum hits the pavement.

Ropey strong arms heave... dragging her a foot or two on the gravel as the man with the head wound gets up... the view changes to the night vision goggles as he jogs down from the hill.

MollyWhipple bends at the waist, reaching for her ankle even as her ass is dragged roughly to the shoulder, ripping a hole in the seat of her bodysuit. Unable to free her boot of the chain, she frees her foot of the boot. She gets up and runs up the road toward the flashing sign in the distance.

The scene switches to the heavy breathing runner in the night vision... he flings himself at her with bandy long arms outstretched, a quick, quite spear.

MollyWhipple hobbles awkwardly with one booted leg, a round mound of glute bulging from the torn side of her suit. The two attackers behind her laugh as she is tackled roughly in mid-stride. "Ooph..."

She is rolled over... belly first she is forced into the dry sandy soil... the attack was not nimble... but a grasping hand manages to catch part of the slit in her rear.

MollyWhipple struggles frantically, fighting to hands and knees, crawling away, squealing as she feels the pink spandex rip completely away from her right leg, but not stopping as she dashes for the bushes.

There is scrabbling... some hooting and yelling... then it grows quite... still... the only sound is her breathing.

MollyWhipple pants for air as she hobbles through the darkness toward that flashing sign looming in the distance, the club that offered her a much-needed job by phone the night before, the only people who knew she would be coming, suddenly realizing that if her attackers are the ones who called her, then running toward the club is futile. She stops in her tracks, chest heaving against the sweat-soaked pink of her body suit.

"Hey chicka... lost... in the middle of nowhere?" The taunting cry comes from nowhere as she hears rending metal... her car in the distance... a figure atop it.

MollyWhipple pulls the pink hood back from her head, revealing a lovely face once she's pushed the wet matted blond hair back from it. She looks all around gulping as she turns in a circle as if that one booted leg is nailed to the ground, eyes so wide with fear you can see the "Grindhouse" sign flashing in them as the Darke begins to close in around her.

******

Carly stood on the gold medal platform at the Olympics… listening to the Star Spangled Banner… and deciding to fight crime in the name of her country… she donned the red, white and blue colors of her country… added blue boots and called herself USAcrobat... but the naughty ninjas were unimpressed… and her new career short…

The crate opening... as Vicious Valerie, the Darke Domme purrs... surveying her newest possession... Carly wrapped up tight in a ball of straps and padding... nodding to a pair of eunuch guards... who lift you out of the box... letting you see the inside of Val's dungeon...

Carly strains at the leather straps... claws extending... trying to bring them to bear on the straps... sawing at one as she is carried toward a Y-shaped table... but unable to bring pressure on the claw... being sent into a frenzy with a bit of catnip... claws retracting after a moment... the guards undoing the straps to transfer her to the table...

Your wrists locked into steel shackles at the base of the Y... each ankle chained to a cuff at the other end... so your thighs are spread wide... even as the Domme runs a firm hand over your powerful form... purring with a smirk... "Mmmm... I'm going to enjoy this..." Nodding to a eunuch... who hands her a scalpel...

Carly's eyes widen... her stout little form arching up from the table as she strains... bucking up and down... all to no avail... shaking her head... panting for air... fear written in the squinting around those yellow eyes... "Please no, don't mutilate me!"

The Darke Domme laughing... and leaning to run her tongue over your neck... before tugging out the neck of your costume... and using the scalpel to cut... slowly removing it section by section... peeling it off your breasts first... then cutting it away from your arms...

Carly making a face... lower lip curling out into a pout... whimpering as the red top portion of her costume is peeled away... piece by piece... the Domme's dark eyes hungry... as if she's skinning her next meal... Cat sniffling as her taut copper-colored nubs are exposed... riding the tightly jiggling little mounds of jello pudding...

The Domme continuing to slowly strip you down... peeling away every inch of your costume slowly... the dungeon hot... torchlight flickering across your naked flesh as it is covered by a sheen of glistening sweat... until finally Val has peeled away the last strip of cloth... smirking as she snaps her fingers... her eyes devouring you...

Carly feels a chill run across her glistening flesh despite the heat in the room... gooseflesh forming on her thighs... and arms... and breasts... biting her trembling lip as her blinking eyes look into those of her commanding captoress... unsure she even wants to know what comes next...

One of the eunuchs bringing a tray... laden with sharp needles... and thick rings... the Domme selecting one... letting it glint in the firelight... then reaching for one nipple... pinching and tugging... caressing as she licks her lips... bringing the point of the needle towards the nub...

Carly gives the mistress a pained look as her teased bud tightens... closing her eyes... clenching her jaw as tightly as she clenches her fists... anticipating the pain of having her nipple pierced... mewling softly deep in her throat...

The Domme leaning in... fixing her eyes on yours... as the needle pushes in... and through... before she withdraws it... and selects one large, thick gold ring... forcing it through your nipple... and then closing it... not a seam showing in the glittering gold as she prepares to pierce the other nipple...

Carly sniffs once... a single tear rolling down her cheek from the eye opposite the pierced nipple... seemingly gulping down any other tears as she silently watches the Domme tease the other copper dollop...

Fingernails tugging and teasing your nipple... even as the sharp point of another needle pricks against it... then slides through... the Domme selecting another ring... and inserting it carefully... smiling wickedly... "Mmmm... those look gorgeous on you, slave..."

Carly shakes once involuntarily as a sob escapes her pouting lips... shaking her head and wailing as she follows the dark eyes of the nefarious Nubian queen... once more rattling the manacles and metal table that hold her... her hips thrusting upwards as she struggles... almost as if inadvertently offering up her smooth white pout as a sacrifice...

The beautiful black woman licking her lips... and selecting another needle... purring... and stroking your perfect pout... sliding a finger into you... exploring... then taking hold of one labia... tugging lightly... as the needle point presses against the flesh...

Carly watches with a look of horror on her face... cringing in anticipation... biting her lip as she tenses... her glutes clenching so hard that her pout rises up as it is pierced... the tiny trickle of blood looking very red against the pale white of skin like virgin snow... redder even than the similar trickle on her chin as she bites down hard on her own lip...

Vicious Val smirking... "Mmmm... poor baby..." Laughing as she slowly pushes a ring through the hole... smaller and lighter... but still glittering gold... before picking up another needle... and pinching the other labia...

Carly takes a few quick pants of air... then holds her breath as she tries to hold still for another piercing... but squealing in spite of herself this time as the needle slides through... tears streaming down both cheeks... bawling openly... even as one eunuch dabs the blood from her mound with a sponge...

The Domme purring as she slips another ring through your labia... then selecting a heavy gold padlock... sliding the bar of the padlock through both of your pussy rings... and locking it... looking you in the eyes and teasing a fingernail over your belly... "There... now your pretty pussy is all mine..."

Carly stares at the beautiful chocolate woman in the mesh bodysuit... and black leather thigh boots... realizing for the first time that her dark skin has a sheen not unlike Cat's own... wondering for an instant how anyone could hope to meet the challenge of this dominant woman... blinking and turning her head away...

The Domme purring... reaching to grip your hair... and then force her lips onto your own... her tongue probing deep... as the Eunuchs unlock your bonds... keeping a firm grip on your wrists... and forcing them behind your back...

Carly mewls and tries to turn away from the kiss... but the firm hand in her hair holds her tightly in place... Cat's tongue putting up a valiant but doomed defense... before bowing to its superior... her mind accepting the positioning of her arms by the eunuchs as if it were being done by the Domme herself...

The Domme reaching out as the kiss deepens... gripping your wrists and drawing them up behind your neck... a wide golden posture collar snapped around your throat... with attached manacles clocking around wrists... as another gold manacle secures your elbows together behind your back...

Carly arches her back mightily as she is forced into the position... her arms trapped stringently behind her... in a manner only perhaps she and Chickfighter could manage without being broken... no more able to take releases the Domme's gaze than she is her lips... the kiss every bit as secure as the collar... as she is lifted to her knees on the table... still not as tall as her captoress...

The Domme breaking the kiss... to attach a pair of short chains from the collar to the nipple rings... forcing your breasts to be pulled upwards... then taking a golden corset... the metal designed to cinch together by means of turned screws... and closing it around your waist... before tightening it securely... locking you into the metal prison...

Carly glances down at her metal corset... eyes wide in amazement as the turning of screws cinches her waist to nothing... looking back up at the Domme... blinking... wondering what she must do to please this perfectly formed chocolate woman... swishing her bobtail and rattling her bindings... uplifted breasts juttering...

The Domme laughing... and switching gears... selecting a large anal plug... connected to the gold corset by a chain... and slowly forcing it home... filling your tight star almost to bursting... before selecting a pair of gold manacles... a short chain between them... attaching them to your ankles...

Carly sucks air... working to accept the plug... oddly accepting that she should... even as the effort bathes her in a new sheen of sweat... sitting sideways on the table as her ankles are hobbled... watching curiously... seemingly having accepted that she is to be adorned like a toy... no longer offering any resistance...

The eunuchs adding the final touch... six-inch stiletto sandals... in gold... as the Domme takes hold of a golden leash... attaching one end to the front of the collar... the other held in her fist... "Come, my slave... I have a party in full swing in the next room... an assortment of guests anxious to meet you..."

Carly blinks at the towering dark woman's words... gulping as she looks into her eyes... straightening her powerful little legs... and inching her rump off the table... balancing on heels almost taller than her feet... almost like a ballerina on point... forced to take the tiniest steps imaginable... as she falls obediently in behind this African Amazon...

The Domme leading you through a door... into a large dining hall... filled with all manner of villains... everyone from Doctor Deathtrap to the Ropemaster... the Snakewrangler... Leopardmistress... even Colonel Kruel... all applauding as Val shows off her newest slave girl... parading you past a forest of reaching hands... who are keen to sample your curves...

Carly stumbles along in a wicked position... round rear thrust out behind... cinched waist bowed back... shoulders pulled back to the point of popping... breasts jutting... and lifted by chains... yelping as she is pinched... twitching... twisting and turning one way and then another...

Carly sobs as a hand reaches for the jingling padlock hanging between her thighs... straightening proudly as the Domme swats the offending hand... "Get your own Doll... this one is mine..."

The Domme laughing... and running her hands over your curves possessively... before helping herself to another deep kiss... "Mmmm... she's already learning the ropes... perhaps I might make her part of the entertainment at my next party... but for now she's just decoration..." She nods towards a large silver salver in the centre of the long table... "Kneel there and display yourself, slave... and be quick about it..."

Carly nods with a twitch of bobtail manages to leap atop the table with both feet... hobbling toward the center... kneeling there as a centerpiece on the salver... every inch of exposed flesh glistening as brightly as the golden corset... her pierced tits and plugged ass on full display... as is the padlocked cleft of her pussy... bulging from between her powerful little thighs...

The villains cheering as you hold your position... then getting down to the feast... the Darke Domme the centre of attention as she shows you off... eyes roaming over every inch of you as the celebration continues long into the night... and all fades to black…

(June 2008)