Darkwater Bay Girls I-Rejection

Part one of a spinoff of Ginger Cooks epic Crow Party creation that takes things somewhere she never expected!!

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Warning: This ongoing story has 18+ themes, including- horror, mental ilness, law breaking, mental manipulation, NC/CNC, supernatural evil, sub/dom, sex scenes including group, bdsm, and others. Anyone underage or uncomfortable with these themes- stop here!!

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~Rejection~

Her feet were already sore, and in spite of the black nylons, the anklestraps of her tall stiletto heels felt as if they were chafing into her very bones. But Samantha continued her three block walk to the House of Windows without pause or slowing. She was driven by her psychosis, and the excitement of knowing that she was the one.

Samantha was a relative newcomer to the neighborhood, having moved here almost exactly six months ago. While married, her husband worked so much, far away, that it was as if she lived alone. John secretly preferred it that way, as it wasn't until after the wedding that he'd discovered Samanthas severe mental instabilities. But being a believer in the institution, he just distanced himself, and kept her, leaving her well supported but alone for months on end.

So it was then, only days after her arrival, during a solo drive for an evening shopping trip, that she'd passed the gothic and slightly eerie House of Windows. The torchlit paths, and throng of people all dressed in dark and mababre outfits caught her attention, and imagination, as she passed.

Over time, as she met her neighbors, she inquired about the spectacle. The responses were always muted and vague, which only heightened her interest. The secretive and whispered discussions of the partys host varied from being in awe of her, to thinly veiled disgust. As Samantha slowly inserted herself into the neighborhood, she learned that the Crow Party, as it was called, had a dark, sexual theme, even though nobody would yet share with her exactly what it was.

And so, with nothing but time on her hands, Samantha's unstable mind began to concoct fantasies. Visions of orgies, dungeon scenes, and dark rituals began to flood her days and nights. Daily, multiple screaming orgasms were had while fantasizing about the as of yet unseen party host, and gothicly dressed neighbors. Soon, her days and nights became nothing but fantasy and obsession, and eventually her unhinged mind pushed her to act.

At first, it was just frequently driving by the House of Windows. It always looked the same- dark and eerie, even in bright daylight. With the garage in back, and hidden away by dense foliage, it was impossible to even know if anyone was home, and there were never signs of life. But as her craving to learn more, and to catch a glimpse of the party's host grew into a fiery desire, her efforts turned into full blown surveillance.

The obsession was quickly rewarded, when days later she caught her first glimpse of who she had just recently learned, was Ginger. It was just a fleeting glimpse as the large black 60s car left the drive and quietly motored away, but Samamtha was instantly smitten. The face, with statuesque beauty, and the long brilliantly blonde hair, was captivating. Finally being able to put a face to her fantasy caused a spontaneous reaction, and Samantha returned home, legs trembling, with her car seat, leggings, and panties completely soaked.

It was just fortune that the very next day, when Nikki, a neighbor two doors down, had whispered the true purpose of the Crow Party, and how it worked. So now, instead of the glimpses of Ginger satisfying her, it only heightened her craving to see and learn even more. Now she had a goal.

Samanthas days began to revolve around watching the House of Windows. Her mind now skirted the abyss of absolute obsession and madness. Her body became a slave to the obsession. Self indulgent orgasms were now only allowed during the brief glimpses of her targets departures and arrivals, and completely dependent on Gingers schedule. The time in between was filled with neediness and cravings. Other free moments were spent picking the neighbors brains for more info about the reclusive Ginger. Her observations soon gave her a solid outline of Gingers weekly schedule. Her deviant and damaged brain then shaped a plan that would make her fantasy reality, unburdened by law or conscience.

Samantha's mind, although easily diagnosed as borderline insane, was also quick, and highly intelligent. She possessed a nearly genius IQ, along with a photographic memory. Once her plan was formed, some brief internet research and a few purchases quickly enabled her to move forward. And so, just five months after first seeing the Crow Party spectacle, she was about to take action to inject herself into the next party, and Gingers life, directly. Now, she just had to be the chosen one.

Samanthas observation routine revealed that Ginger was a creature of habit. Her comings and goings were regular, and never deviated in length or timing more than ten or fifteen minutes. So on Friday night, from her usual spot down the street, Samantha watched Ginger drive away at 10:07pm- only seven minutes late. With lights off, she pulled into the drive and around the side of the House of Windows. Moments later, her YouTube studies and Amazon lockpick kit paid off, and the back door swung open. She checked her watch as she stepped inside. Two and a half hours. A brief shiver of fear coursed through her, but the excitement and warming between her thighs swiftly pushed caution aside.

Using just a penlight, she began to explore the dark house. Kitchen, living room, a hallway, all dark and eerie, but disappointingly furnished less gothic than the exterior, and her fantasies, suggested. At least the creaks of the wood floor beneath her made the home feel more vintage. She ran her hand softly, reverantly, across chairs, tables, picture frames, every touch a sexual thrill. Climbing the stairs, she found bedrooms and a bath, and finally, the master bedroom. Oddly, the door had a sturdy lock. Perfect. It took a few minutes to pick, and the growing mystery behind the locked door had her excited and damp by the time it swung open.

Scanning the room, she caught her breath. It was if it was straight from her fantasies. Dark crimson walls and black drapes framed it. The furnishings were dark and very vintage. The enormous four poster bed was veiled in black lace, and was covered with patchwork brocade and satin, with lace trim. If a sensual female vampire had a bedroom, itd look like this she thought. She approached the bed, touching the veil and plush blankets lovingly. Her heart pounding, she moved to the closet. Feeling secure deep in the house, she pulled the overhead light chain. An immense collection greeted her. Her fingertips ran along all the hanging outfits. Sultry club dresses to ornate ballgowns. Almost everything there proclaimed femininity and sensuality. Looking down, rows of high heels lined the floor, with one pair of sneakers, and one pair of lace-up ballet slippers at the end, seemingly out of place amongst the collection of sleek stilettos. A large chest of drawers sat to the rear, and she went to it. Drawer after drawer of lace, satin, and silk greeted her. Her fingers played through the ultra-feminine undergarments. The excitement of her dangerous mission, and now, the feeling of her obsessions lacy and satiny lingerie under her fingertips took over, and soon her hand had found it's way into her leggings. Her mission completely forgotten, she surrendered to the thoughts suddenly exploding like fireworks in her brain. She kicked off her sneakers, and shed her top. She pushed her leggings and damp panties down and off with abandon. Naked, she pawed through a drawer, finding a pair of black lace panties, and a pair of expensive black stockings. She walked along the rack of hanging dresses, a fingertip touching each as she contemplated. Stopping at a dark midnight satin gown, she paused, but then, grabbed the deep red club dress next to it.

She quickly slipped into the lingerie and dress. She twirled and appraised herself approvingly in the full length mirror in the depths of the closet. She looked down and eventually choose a pair of red patent heels, which turned out to thankfully be only a half size too small.

The next thought she had caused her to rush to the bed, heels echoing loudly in the room. She dropped to her knees, and lifted the spread, looking underneath. Nothing.

She got up and feverishly turned to the nightstands, and was rewarded in the second drawer with what she knew must be there. Toys. A small collection, but the various sizes and shapes would easilly satisfy her. Choosing a couple, she climbed onto Gingers bed, and after laying back, she guides the first up into the snug dress, and between her trembling thighs...

An hour later, exhausted, Samantha slips into her car. She throws the red dress, panties,and stockings, all thoroughly soaked, onto the backseat. After a long string of explosive orgasms, sanity briefly returned, and she realized that she couldn't put the clothing back. Not like that, and not tonight at least. But a quiet voice whispered to her that she could return whenever she wanted. Pleased with the revelation, she smiled slyly to herself as she backed out of the drive.

Days later, Samantha received the much anticipated package in the mail. Quickly ripping it open, she was pleased to find two solid silver, and ornately engraved keys. Her incredible memory had allowed her to translate the things she felt while picking the rear, and bedroom locks, into specifications, later numbers a master locksmith could understand, and a craftsman could recreate. And although her original mission was simply to have a door key to present to Ginger, she knew that having a key to her bedroom would guarantee she was chosen.

That evening, knowing there was a window of time from 8:00 to 9:30, Samantha returned to the House of Windows. The key worked in the back door flawlessly. Only some slight jiggles allowed the bedroom door key to work, and Samantha quickly hung the now-clean red dress right where it had been. Next opening the lingerie drawer, she paused, thinking about the upcoming party, and minutes later, was on her way home, unseen.

The last few days before the party passed quickly, filled with shopping, preparing, and fantasizing without boundaries about the night to come. She stopped her surveillance of Ginger, and undertook a regime of self denial, but edging herself mercilessly throughout the days and nights. She wanted to "save herself" for Ginger.

When the day arrived, her desire was almost too much to bear. She struggled mightily to not touch herself through the day, and it stretched her minds connections with sanity to the breaking point. But as evening approached, she was able to focus on gettin ready.

She took a luxurious bath, and shaved her legs, ensuring the rest of her body was smooth perfection as well. In a towel, she gave herself a slightly gothic look with dark, smoky eyes, and slightly pale foundation. Deep red lipstick with thin dark outlines accented her lips, and her red hair, now slightly curly and bouncy, covered her shoulders and beyond. Faux nails, pointed, sharp, and crimson were applied.

With a big grin to herself, she slipped into the black stockings, and lacy panties she'd decided to keep. She wondered if, in the inevitable, upcoming heat of the moment, Ginger would recognize them as her own.

She slipped on her new black dress. Leather, with some spandex, it fit snugly, and the corset-like lacing in front plunged daringly low, revealing an ample amount of bra-less cleavage. The lace sleeves and accents gave it a dark, gothic look, while the short, upper thigh length and sheer material that hung from it, to the floor, gave it a sexy, witchlike vibe.

Last were details like black chain earrings, a baroque style necklace, heavy with red and black gems, and a few old, antique rings, one of which replaced her wedding band. Looking at the clock, her heart pounding, she stepped into, and buckled her new stilettos. Standing, she wobbled slightly. She was no stranger to high heels, but these were, by nearly an inch, the tallest she'd ever owned. Composing herself, she checked herself in the mirror a last time. Stunning, sexy, and beautiful, with a hint of dark mystery, she summarized. Along with the proper trinket, the party host could only choose her. Without a doubt. Satisfied, she grabbed her black clutch, and after checking to insure that Gingers bedroom key was inside, she headed for the door.

After arriving, Samantha mingled with the guests, mostly unknown. The flaming torches did little to push back the darkness, and knots of attendees seemingly huddled together, as if afraid of it. It was as if the towering House of Windows cast extra shadows, even though it was well after dark. Everyone seemed to be drinking heavilly, but even then, there was no loud or animated conversation, only subdued, almost submissive behavior. The discussions were guarded as well. There was small talk, but the host was rarely brought up, and then, only in whispers. After meeting neighbors she'd met with before, she quickly learned that discussing your trinket was basically taboo, if not verboten. Unspoken rules kept revealing themselves, and she felt another wave of excitement as she realized everyone here had surrendered so much to their host. To HER Ginger.

In the flickering torchlight, the darkness seemed to consume the guests as they moved about, adding a sinister feel to the event. Samantha continued to move about, exchanging pleasantries and small talk. She eventually came across Nikki, lovely and mysterious in a dark gown and feathered masquerade mask. But her bare legs and plain shoes showed that she wasn't committed, and was no threat to Samanthas inevitable victory. So, they talked a while, the alcohol now helping to animate their words, and dull the increasing high heels-induced pain. Samantha tried to carry on the conversation, but was distant as she searched the crowd, hoping to see their host, and impatient to begin her intimate evening with her.

It was beginning to occur to Samantha that Nikki might be hitting on her. She'd become quite suggestive. Her occaisional friendly touches were becoming longer and more frequent. Nikkis eyes seemed to focus almost permanently on her cleavage, but sometimes traveling up and down the length of her stockinged legs, mysterious behind the opaque fabric. Samantha did find Nikki attractive, and was in the process of forming a response to it all, when she noticed an adjacent group of guests suddenly fall silent. She turned to see where they were looking, and she finally saw her. Ginger, the object of her desire. Ginger, the focus of all her days and nights for so long, gliding through the clusters of torchlit guests. Nikki was forgotten. She watched Ginger pause with each guest, and knew that it was time. Pulling the key from her clutch, she palmed it. Her legs suddenly trembled, and she felt herself getting damp as she moved closer. Her heart started to pound, and she licked her lips as she got a full veiw of Ginger in her dark gown.

She was still staring, her arousal rising, when Samantha realized the moment was already upon her. The host had concluded with a cluster of guests, and was now headed the dozen steps down the path to her. Nowhere else to go, nobody else to stop for. She was next! Time seemed to slow. She watched her approach, the sway of her body in the gown, mesmerizing. The small ripples flowing through her long blonde hair, captivating. She saw, and felt Gingers eyes drift down and back up her own body, appraising her in a split second. Their eyes met, and she saw what could only be lust in Gingers eyes. Her knees almost buckled. Ginger stopped, inches away. With a hint of a smile, she grasped her wrist, and the sharp nails of her other hand slowly raked her wrist, then palm, as she slowly pulled Samanthas hand open. Their eyes stayed locked for a seeming eternity, and Samantha tingled as she inhaled her scent. She felt an electric surge from her hosts continued touch, and resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together. They maintained the gaze into each others eyes, communicating desire, lust, and a promise of unrestrained pleasures. Then finally, Ginger broke the gaze, and looked down at the silver key. The world froze, awaiting the inevitable, and Samantha felt as if she might orgasm then and there. The corners of her lips rose, the beginning of a smile. She knew she'd won.

But then, an expression of what could only be dissappointment flashed across Gingers face. She looked back up, meeting Samantha's eyes once more, and her look changed to one of sadness, or maybe pity. She folded Samanthas fingers closed around the key. With just a brief, gentle caress down one arm, she stepped away, quickly inviting Nikki, the next contestant, to show her offering.

The quiet "but..." died silently in Samanthas throat. In that second, the strained threads that connected her to reality, to sanity... snapped. The lights and sounds of a thousand exploding stars blasted in her head. The excitement, the craving, the desire for being Gingers newest playmate tonight, all disappeared. The only reason for her existence, gone. A hundred voices began to argue in her brain, and tried to shout over the exploding stars. Then, suddenly, silence. Emptiness, crushing despair, and darkness flooded her now entirely unhinged brain. Without a word or glance, she turned, slowly shuffling down the path towards the street. The fading flickers of torchlight glistened on the tears welling up. But they also illuminated the beginning sparks of anger in her eyes.

As she neared the street, she felt the eyes of the guests on her. She felt the shame of defeat and the judgement of those that, although rejected, remained. But she couldn't face them. Couldn't look back. Couldnt stay. So her legs continued to propel her into the darkness. The voices returned, but now, they werent yelling, and they told her things. They told Samantha she still had a key in her hand, and that she had another at home. Then they went silent, letting her digest that.

As she left the path and turned down the street, insanity, and immense, growing anger swirled and mixed in her head, consuming her. Her tightening grip forced her crimson nails deep into the leather clutch, before snapping them off. A lone tear ran down her burning cheek, unnoticed, and unfollowed by others. A single voice returned and told her, "tonite is just the beginning". The voice was firm, yet reassuring. Suddenly, she was driven. Her gait, and the sound of her heels clicking on pavement, turned ever more brisk and purposeful as she strode away into the blackness.

Samantha, and the voices, would make a new plan.

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⚠️Havent read the story that preceeded this yet?? Shame on you!!! Go to Gingers Substack and catch the original Crow Party story that inspired this!!!

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https://open.substack.com/pub/gingercook/p/crow-party?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=4dux1o