The Curse of the Doverhex
by anaerobe
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© Copyright 2015 - anaerobe - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-M; mast; legend; fantasy; dream; F+/m; captive; latex; catsuits; dungeon; cell; tease; torment; sex; climax; transform; M2other; denial; cons/reluct; X
Ghoul-gle jpn
The Curse of the Doverhex anaerobe Solo-M; mast; legend; fantasy; dream; F+/m; captive; latex; catsuits; dungeon; cell; tease; torment; sex; climax; transform; M2other; denial; cons/reluct; X

Fright has always fascinated the human race. A staged mock encounter with wild animals, for instance, may have been conceived as one of the earliest practical jokes. In modern times, good horror tales are considered examples of a respected entertainment genre. We are encouraged to experience such fare in good humor, & dispel our fears with a laugh, but the emotions uncovered reflect confrontation of a dread of one sort or another, the deeper the better.

Fear, in turn, typically consists of nervous anticipation of the unknown, which takes on its most potent quality with contemplation of the spirit world. We are unable to touch, negotiate with, or physically do battle with disembodied entities, rendering them all the more threatening. Hence the human fixation on such spirits as devils, angry gods, souls of the dead, or a wide variety of real or imagined bogeymen. Among the most impactful manifestations of our obsession with the spirit world are the traditions that transcend generations, handed down over many years. Such is the realm of legends, elaborated upon by a host of our respected ancestors, therefore taking on the most impenetrable mask of believability.

Legend was accordingly deeply entrenched among the citizenry of a small village in the fog enshrouded lowlands of Friesland, a rural northern province of Holland, known as Zondernaam. Of particular concern in this community with regard to the legend in question was its target, namely teenage boys who dabbled too loosely, it was said, in their sexuality. The purported purveyor of evil was a specific hex, or witch, from the cliff area of Dover, across the English Channel, known as the Doverhex.

The Doverhex, it was believed, was prepared to kidnap any adolescent that violated the conservative sexual values of their elders, imprisoning them in her dungeon indefinitely. Excessive masturbation, for example, was reported to these impressionable individuals as punishable by repetitive forced sexual stimulation for eternity. She was furthermore portrayed typically as a spirit who assumed the irresistibly attractive form of a beautiful woman. As such, she represented a latter day succubus or siren. 

As a young child, most of Sammy’s exposure to the legend of the Doverhex consisted of warnings invoked if he stayed up past his bedtime, failed to complete his chores, or eat his meals as expected. Chance glimpses of scantily clad sexy women at countryside fall kermis festivals, or lurking in the alleys of the larger cities of the region, such as Leeuwarden, were pointed out to him as dangerous characters that were best avoided; they could be the Doverhex in one of her many disguises. As time marched on & he attained pubertal status, the sexual nature of the threat became more explicitly spelled out by word of mouth from family members & schoolmates in the manner by which legends are oftentimes perpetuated.

Long winter nights were the most difficult times for Sammy, while also the most alluring. The bright but fatefully inquisitive now 16 year old farm boy, isolated from urban society, fantasized about being captured by the Doverhex as he achieved increasingly intense hormone-fueled orgasms night after night, all the while remaining terrified of the fearsome spirit creature. His fixation became a bizarre mix of imagination & surrealism, spilling into his most vivid dreams with increasing frequency.

On a particularly cold, dreary October night, during one of the most intense reveries he had yet had with the elusive seductress, Sammy felt an overpowering, magnetic compulsion to join her. She beckoned him out of his bed, down the steep staircase, & out into the empty streets of the village. The Doverhex was irresistible in glistening black latex, covered head to toe except for her pale facial complexion & long, wavy raven-black hair. Sammy felt his legs struggling to meet her as she led him from the safety of his warm bedroom, through dark alleys & along the town’s canals steaming with mist in the chill autumn air, even as he consciously reasoned that this couldn’t logically be happening. The crisp snap of her latex legs in the cold air & the click of her high heel boots as she navigated the cobblestoned streets lured him on, the gleam of her polished rubber outfit reflecting seductively from the occasional streetlight. The evanescent image was all the more compelling, as he strained unsuccessfully to clearly behold the fullness of her beauty in the dim light.

The Doverhex led Sammy into a narrow doorway from one of the most isolated, obscure alleyways of the town, down a darkened stone staircase, into a cobblestoned subterranean hall illuminated only by infrequently placed torches mounted on the walls. He followed her through an iron gate, into an empty cell, as the gate slammed shut behind him. No words exchanged & without warning, her image flew out of a high open window on the far side of the cell, through the iron bars of the window, as only a formless, transparent specter could.

Sammy now found himself alone, abandoned in a cold concrete cell by the object of his fantasies. Inevitably, he again speculated that this was rationally impossible & therefore not really physically happening. It must be just a dream gone bad, he reasoned, & he proceeded to pinch & prod himself in an attempt to awaken from the supposed imaginary reality, without success. This puzzled Sammy even more so, he rationalized that his current frustration must itself be part of his dream state gone awry, & he drifted off to sleep.

Awakening at daybreak to face the bare walls of his prison, Sammy repeated the process of challenging the perception of his plight with pinches, prods, & any manner of physical reality checks, to no avail. He surveyed the Spartan surroundings, consisting only of a sink, commode, & barely tolerable cushioned bed. He became increasingly anxious, no longer in any way erotically aroused, & actually felt shamefully foolish to be the victim of a disembodied phantom which he still hoped was just a mischievous figment of his imagination.

After a short time, a tall, slender, statuesque blond appeared at Sammy’s cell door, also clad in head to toe black latex, as the Doverhex had been. She warily engaged him in conversation, however, indicating that she was merely an assistant hex serving the Doverhex at her pleasure. “You may call me Santee” she said, as Sammy tried to make sense of his predicament.

Santee had brought Sammy tea & simple pastries for breakfast, but promptly indicated to Sammy that they were to be had for a price. She had also brought for him a black latex catsuit & hood, holding them out to him. “You must dress appropriately, as you will soon be in the presence of the Doverhex, & this is her wish” she commanded, adding that he would have nothing to eat or drink if he did not cooperate.

Sammy was famished & thirsty beyond belief from his overnight adventures, & consequently highly motivated to comply with Santee’s instructions. What could it hurt, he reasoned, noting that at least the outfit did incorporate a zippered opening between his legs for the necessities of biologic function. He warily, but promptly squeezed himself into the tight, somewhat constrictive catsuit & snug-fitting heavy zippered latex hood as Santee supervised. She unexpectedly positioned herself behind Sammy while ostensibly surveying his progress, & to his astonishment, deftly slipped a gold padlock into the heavy-duty interlocking zipper pulls of the catsuit & hood which he had failed to notice in his haste.

Now locked into his newly acquired latex garb, Sammy’s first reaction was to protest violently, but he found himself oddly overcome by an unfamiliarly erotic & increasingly pleasant sensation provided by the firm pressure of the outfit on his entire body. Ignoring his forced latex confinement for the moment, he dove into the tea & pastries with relish.

Once Sammy’s hunger & thirst were satisfied, Santee threw herself on him, rubbing her hands & breasts fiercely over his crotch, and then liberating his genitals for prolonged stimulation, his arousal heightened by the erotic sensation of being locked in latex. Even after Sammy had achieved two, & then three orgasms, she refused to stop despite his increasingly vocal protests. Santee departed without further discussion, & locked his cell door behind her.

Sammy had now slipped progressively into a “go with the flow” strategy, which actually meshed well with his generally casual life approach. He began to notice, however, an intermittent faint moaning sound, which he figured must just be the wind. Before long, however, a second ravishing red-haired beauty in white latex showed up, wearing him down all over again with an intensity of tactile stimulation only a teenage boy challenged by excess testosterone could only dream of. The sound & feel of her rubber-covered ass on his face as well as the friction of her latex crotch against his caused him to cum repeatedly & uncontrollably. She too, left him locked in his cell once her mission had been completed.

He was exhausted from this rough but exciting treatment. Several hours later, somewhat past what Sammy would have hoped was lunchtime in the unusual institution of his captivity, he again grew hungry & thirsty. As time wore on, the groans & other-worldly sounds outside his cell seemed to become more audible, & he felt more & more anxious, wondering as to his fate in his strange new surroundings.

A familiar, but ghostly, black latex clad figure drifted towards him from the depths of the hallway outside Sammy’s cell, gliding along the corridor as if floating a foot or so above the floor, trailed by the two similarly attired, subordinate assistants, one in black & one in white latex. The transparent, shadowy apparition passed inexplicably through the bars of Sammy’s cell, followed by the assistants with the use of the key his overseers had used that morning.

The Doverhex addressed Sammy with an arrogant, formal tone as the assistants motioned for him to stand as a measure of respect for the supernatural presence before him. “I trust you’ve been made at least minimally comfortable for the time being, young man” she began. “You may have heard the interminable pleas of your comrades, which, you will learn, is about to become a large part of your fate. By the way, would you care for some additional sexual play?”

Sammy, literally drained from his treatment at the hands of the two assistants, recoiled visibly at the mention of further stimulation, & mumbled “No, please, no more!”.

“Well, the sounds you’ve been hearing are those of your contemporaries who are sentenced to eternal arousal & only occasional, by now painful orgasms. I can, however, offer you a yearly reprieve from this ordeal, along with liberation from the physical discomforts of hunger, thirst, or the suffering from cold or heat, on one condition.”

“What might that be?” responded Sammy weakly. The Doverhex continued, explaining, “I’ve been commissioned, if you will, to cull the excessively sexually focused individuals from this village by the elders of the community. Your parents have been coerced into cooperation with this plan, although it does remove you from your home in return for the ongoing benefit to the remainder of your large family.”

“I have here in my hand the keys to your latex incarceration. With my spell, they will vanish, along with your chances for escape from this confinement, & you will become, for one month each year, a spirit being, as you see me. Your mission during that month will be to visit all the young men who will otherwise suffer your fate, & warn them of the consequences of their behavior, if unchanged. On the midnight of the last of the month, your physical being will be restored. During the remainder of the year, you will remain, with the anguished voices you hear in the dungeon, to endure endless sexual stimulation as punishment for your previous conduct, although otherwise spared pain, hunger, & thirst. If you do not choose to be transformed as a reprieve from interminable arousal, eternal torment as a mortal will be your lot forevermore.”

Sammy had listened attentively, took account of his vulnerable position & prospects, & saw little choice but to take the Doverhex’s proposition as the lesser of two evils. Accordingly, she waved her hands imperiously, chanting an unintelligible series of incantations. The keys to Sammy’s latex prison that the Doverhex held vanished in thin air, becoming increasingly faint before disappearing. With that, Sammy saw his physical body grow dimmer, fading in the afternoon light as his visitors left him in the locked cell, which no longer confined him. He pushed against the bars of the cell, & encountered no resistance. He drifted silently out the bars of the window above him, above the town as sunset enveloped the town in dusk.

And so it was, forever thereafter. Every night during the month of October each year, Sammy drifted in & out of the bedrooms of his schoolmates, acquaintances, & any strangers he perceived as possibly receptive to his message of warning. He had entered the spirit world, for better or worse, & endured the frustration of obtaining no response from the physical beings he confronted, only hoping they had absorbed his plea for a change in their actions, albeit subconsciously, through their fondest dreams & fantasies.



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