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Back again. Back in the madness of peeling yellow wallpaper. Back to the ominous hum and flicker of fluorescent lights. Back to that place Async Research Institute called The Backrooms.
Mary Kline did not return here by choice. After narrowly escaping the monstrous copy of her former patient, she would have greatly preferred never setting foot in these endless halls again. Unfortunately for her, the men in hazmat suits and lab coats had no problem with volunteering her for their experiments. More progress in one day than twelve months, they said, as if contributing to their Project KV31 should make her feel better about risking her life for scraps of data in a file.
Wet carpet squelched under her feet. Every corner and opening invited new horrors beyond her comprehension. Amid the piles of junk furniture, and the glow of lamps jutting at odd angles, her highly trained psychologist mind tried to fathom the logic of this layout while scanning for danger. Nothing made sense. Laws like gravity applied but not basic design. Couches sunk into floors next to reversed stop signs and desks with missing drawers.
But just when she became accustomed to the silence. When her shoulders slumped and her breathing settled. She heard it.
Wind chimes. They tinkled light and airy in a space devoid of wind. Except for the rare plug-in fans whirring away in certain rooms, nothing could set off those chimes except for two things. Humans. And monsters.
She didn't dare stick around to find out which.
Rushing at a brisk pace, she jerked left. Not too fast, lest the shuffle of her shoes alert them to her presence. Her gaze darted about as she reasoned through her next step, then her next, then her next, following a sequence of deductions that would have served her well in any place but The Backrooms. As a novice Backrooms spelunker, she froze once she reached a dead end save for one option. The neat square hole sloped downward into darkness. Its end could lead her to the exit. Or a ball pit. Or a room full of stinking unwashed clothes.
Or worse. It could take her some place much worse.
Her thoughts reeled in panic. Heavy thuds echoed off bare walls. Whoever or whatever pursued her was closing in. Her surroundings afforded no leverage to duck and run. No garbage to hide behind. If she didn't act, it would be her and it.
With a sigh, and a deep breath, she took her only option.
Mary slid down the chute. Friction heated her ass through the thin layer of her brown dress pants. Pressing her hands against the sides worked until a burning in her palms forced her to release. Picking up speed. It stretched on, and on, and on. Frustrated wails of the creature she left behind reminded her that this was the right choice. The safe choice. Even as she tumbled out the exit.
Cushions broke her fall. The camcorder at her belt jostled and snapped off as she slowly rolled to a stop. Sitting up, she blinked through her dizzy spell when she heard the last thing she expected.
"Fuck. Fuck! It found me."
Mary's vision cleared to another woman frantically patting the walls. Strobing lights gave her snapshots of impressions. The other woman was Asian. Short brown hair. Shorter than her. In baggy jean shorts and a sleeveless navy blue V-neck, something about the woman seemed strangely familiar. Mary only placed it once she noticed the glint of her many earrings.
"... Aren't you dead?"
The other woman paused. Cautiously, she glanced over her shoulder, strands waving in her line of sight. "Wait. You can talk. Freaks can't talk."
Mary moved closer, confirming her suspicions with a better view. "This isn't possible. I saw your head."
"You saw a head. Clark's so far gone he couldn't tell the difference between me and one of the freaks." Kat squinted into the dark where Mary stood. Sizing up all 5'10" of her. The flower print dress shirt. The gold watch and heart pendant. Something about this brunette screamed professional, but she needed more. "You clearly know who I am. Why the hell are you here?"
"I'm Clark's therapist. Or, well, I was."
Kat rolled her eyes and sighed. "Real bang up job you did there, doc. Is trying to hack my head off part of his therapy?"
Mary brow creased as she leaned toward the smaller Kat, hands settling against her hips. "Hey. I tried to help him. I had no idea he was one bad trip away from turning into a murderer."
"Yeah, sure, Mary."
That little detail almost slipped past her. In the department store wilds of this bizarre world, Mary's attention normally went to analyzing threats and ways out. "Wait. You know who I am."
"Who doesn't. 'The Window Within'? Really? I only see it on TV twelve times a night." Kat added insult by tossing a book toward the infamous doctor. "Or I guess I should call you Mammarry Kaleine while you're down here."
Kat was right. As Mary gazed over the cover, she saw a jumbled mess of text. Like everything else in The Backrooms, it looked like a fair facsimile until taking in the details. Staring at her two-nosed likeness, she wandered toward the room's other side.
"You know there's a door over there, right?" Mary said, walking toward it. "All we have to do is find another-"
BONK!
Mary knew exactly what happened the moment her forehead smacked into glass. That knowledge didn't stop her from bouncing back and landing squarely on her ass.
"Windows!" Kat groaned. "This place has windows too."
In that moment, with a red spot forming for her troubles, Mary felt her frustration with the girl overriding her dread. But before she could act on it, well-chosen words hanging in her throat, a new party entered from that very door.
"Bobby?" Kat perked up. Then rushed over, pressing herself against the glass. "Bobby! Bobby, thank god you're alive. I'm over here!"
Just as she raised her fist to pound for his notice, Kat realized the ever-present fear in his scrambling. A couch, a chair, lamps, the blonde guy piled everything at his disposal against the entrance and backed up as far as he could go. A single pane separated the lovers and older third wheel - not that Bobby noticed.
Mary looked on. To Kat. To Bobby. To Kat. Trying to piece together this strange dynamic.
"That's your boyfriend?" Mary stammered.
To which Kat glared back. "Don't say it like that. He may be a bit of a himbo but he's a good fuck."
"Riiiiiight."
"Is... Is someone there?!" Bobby spun, retreating as he looked toward the strange talking wall.
"Yes! Yes, that's right. It's like that one room. We're behind the-"
Kat's fleeting moment of hope dashed upon the rocks of Bobby tripping over a sunken chair and slamming his head into a nearby embedded end table. Kat and Mary stopped breathing, watching for any sign of life. Relief set in at the rise and fall of his chest until they heard a shambling. Their eyes shifted to a fierce pounding on the door. The creature's brute strength tore through wood. Knocked the pile over. As it climbed inside, they gawked at the loathsome thing.
"What the fuck?!"
"Guess himbos and bimbos attract," Mary opined.
What emerged and stood was another version of Kathrine Taylor. Except not quite. Where other Still Lifes had minor oddities, this Still Kat looked every bit the exaggeration of Pirate Clark. With her Assistant Manager name tag pinned to her light blue top, a set of gigantic breasts swelled the material to its limits. Its stretch forced the neckline into a deep plunge, forming a void that the two women gaped at while she climbed over furniture. Her shorts had shrunk as well, into a pair of hip huggers that expressed a massive ass ready to split their seat wide open. A pronounced cameltoe dripped its arousal into a very evident wet spot. Offset eyes and ears ran into the uncanny valley expected in this place.
But she wasn't alone. Clambering shortly after, a Still Mary emerged from the Bimbo Kat's wreckage. Her many-fingered hands waded through scraps, dark hair hanging loose as she crawled in and stood beside her partner. Her face matched the book cover in every respect.
"They captured your best feature," Kat said. "Or most prominent anyway."
"Is this really the best time for quips?"
"You started it."
Their mouths promptly shut and blood ran cold when the Still Lifes set their sights on their big prize. Mary and Kat both knew how these monsters treated humans when active. They both had ample experience in escaping the horror of Pirate Clark. Safe yet barred by their side's clear barrier, they stared as the Still Lifes slunk over to Bobby. It would only take a matter of moments to end him. The Still Lifes dropped to their knees, leaned over...
And undid his pants.
Bimbo Kat ripped his belt clean off. Still Mary popped the button and unzipped his fly. While Bimbo Kat sat on her heels, Still Mary descended. Slid Bobby's shorts to his ankles. Inched closer. Closer. Closer. Soon the peak of her nose dug up and into his sack. As Still Mary indulged, the real, human Mary made a shocking discovery.
"What. What the." Mary sniffed. "WHAT the FUCK?"
"What's wrong with you?"
"I can smell him."
"You can... smell him? You mean-"
"I can smell your boyfriend's balls, alright?"
Bobby's musk flooded Mary's nostrils and hit hard. She tried pinching them shut. She tried plugging them with her fingers. She even tried dropping to the ground, pressing the fleshy tip of her pointed nose into the moist carpet, and taking a giant whiff. Nothing worked. The noisome odor consumed all. It burned. It filled. It aroused. Hidden past her professional slacks and white cotton panties, Mary's pussy throbbed with want at the scent. She didn't know if this yearning came from Still Mary or herself. Nor did she care. She felt it either way.
"Why aren't they killing him?" Kat asked.
"I. I." Mary sniffled and blinked. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe this place copies what it thinks of different people. It thought Clark was violent, which means-"
"Which means it thinks we're sluts?"
Mary nodded. Tears formed in her eyes, as from her body rejecting an especially pungent aroma. Choking on the fragrance of Bobby's sack, Mary bore witness to the degrading scene unfolding mere feet away. It felt like having to sit through a peep show with shitty knockoffs of the two of them as its stars. In the time she had spent focused on her own plight, Bimbo Kat had made progress.
Bimbo Kat's bosom looked bizarrely obscene. Multiple nipples dotted their expanse, as Kat's necklace dangled into the crevasse. Peeling those shorts off revealed a large, thick, gaping vulva with an almost plasticky smoothness. It served as the only hole on Bimbo Kat's lower half, demonstrating how The Backrooms failed to understand all of the human body's functions. But it knew this one. It knew this one well.
Below, Still Mary rubbed Bobby's prick. It started limp and loose in his state of duress. Yet with very little coaxing, it grew. His racing heart and wet dreams engorged the length to greater heights. Still Mary swayed it about with her wrist. Teasing it. Angling it. Once properly aligned, she shifted the ring of her thumb and forefinger to its base as it fulfilled its purpose.
In the real world, this kind of tryst might start with foreplay. The Backrooms lacked this information. So it wasted no time. Naked and ready, Bimbo Kat positioned herself above the prone Bobby and slammed her whole pussy directly onto his dick.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" Kat screeched.
Her hands fumbled with her own belt. In record time, she snapped off the clasp. Opened herself up. Thrust her crotch into light streaming from the other room. Patting herself down, she explored her loins for the slightest hint of damage. Her digits crept inside for the shaft she clearly felt within. In vain. They found nothing. The yawning emptiness of her cunt went at odds with what she knew to be true. Something was fucking her.
"Now do you believe me?" Mary said.
"I never said I didn't."
Kat felt every drop. Jamming into her depths, scraping with Bobby's familiar contours. It sounded absurd, to recognize a man by the makeup of his cock as it rammed her fuck hole. But then the very place they stood went against common sense. She moaned, legs weakening, pressing her palm against the window to keep herself upright. She winced as she bore witness to Bimbo Kat riding her boyfriend with the merry of a craven whore dying of thirst. Up and down she went, each pass transferring its rawness into Kat's vulnerable quim.
"F... F... Fucking..." she yammered.
If she had hoped for solace or aid from her fellow prisoner, she would find none. Not only because Mary had little to offer here, but because she had her own trial - that she was failing.
The psychologist paced their cell. Deep breaths. She thought for certain this tactic would bear fruit. If lucky, she could override Bobby's ever-present ball stench. She could at least use it to ease her tension and clear her mind. Or so she thought. Instead, fresh air only enhanced the potent cock miasma swimming through her long nostrils and into her lungs. Meanwhile, Still Mary's quickened snuffling and blissful humming suggested that she uncovered a gold mine to her perversions.
A perversion that, Mary learned, was growing for her as well. A heat swelled across her body. Her hands went from her hips to her collar, pulling it aside to fan her flushed chest. Pinkness turned to vibrant rose to a bloody crimson. What started as a light dampness across her skin became spreading beads of sweat. Finally, she reached her limit. Stopped on the spot. Took one look at Still Mary, groaned, and came to terms with what she would do next.
"I can't take it anymore," Mary sputtered.
In one smooth motion, she ripped her dress shirt apart. Heaving in lust, she tore her bra into a useless scrap and slunk her touch toward the seat of her sex. Past her meager mole hill breasts, rising as they did into pink-capped tear drops. Over her taut belly, sizzling with desire. She barely bothered with loosening her buckle and plunged into the sweltering cavern of her pants.
Kat couldn't even bring herself to comment. It took all her strength to withstand the sexual onslaught passed on to her by the hypersensitive bimbo bearing her corrupted likeness. Where Bimbo Kat rubbed her bulbous tits, the real Kat's creamy pair tingled her brown tips to full erection. All that fondling, caressing, skin rippling across a nip-freckled landscape of tit flesh collected those sensations into the pinpoints of Kat's two measly teats. A little flick of Bimbo Kat to one of hers made Kat moan. Never in her wildest wet dreams or fuckathons with her boy had she endured something like this. It felt like raw nerves exposed and teased by horny ghosts. And with the way her heart pounded, she might well become one herself.
"Why can't this place just be normal?!" Kat griped.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck," Mary cried. "I can't believe I'm so god damn horny just from smelling some dumb himbo's balls."
Huffing through her nose like a paint addict, Mary rimmed her lower lips gently so as not to overwhelm herself. She was caught on the edge. Too little and she merely stewed in frustration. Too much and it would've felt like stabbing her clit with pleasure. She needed to build herself to that point. Her knuckles tented the front of her slacks, threatening to break the zipper. Then slowly, when she dared enter the hot and humid depths, the bulge grew. And shrank. And grew. And shrank. Soaking her whole crotch, she fell to her knees and tried her very hardest to funnel her ragged breaths through her burning nostrils.
Kat, meanwhile, pounded her fist against the window. "Will. You. All. STOP! I'm gonna... gonna..."
On the other side, Bimbo Kat grinned vapid and wide. Her breasts flopped uncannily, widening and closing their valley with each thrust she forced into her hungry twat. Her hole-less ass slid across the top of Still Mary's head, driving her deeper into Bobby's whole package as it fumed from the results of Bimbo Kat's hardcore fucking. Still Mary's obnoxiously loud and long whiffs were soon drowned out by moans from Bimbo Kat. Then regular Kat. Then Mary, before Still Mary joined in.
Four women. Four sets of lungs. Four voices wailing in lustful agony and bliss. Two made the natural, normal, human wheezes alongside the Backrooms' inhumanly screeching concept of the same. This awkward chorus went through the journey, two willing and two not, to reach the climax together.
Ecstasy unlike anything in the real world assaulted the two visitors. For Kat, it blossomed from her cunt and puffed into her belly. For Mary, it started at her sinuses, exploding within her highly credentialed brain. But it had the same effect. Too much, too soon, they each grew light headed and collapsed at the same time as Bimbo Kat and Still Mary. Drifting closer to unconsciousness, Mary's eyes flitted to stay awake in vain as she barely managed to mutter a few final words.
"God damn... back... rooms..."
As she slipped into a wet and restless slumber, the camcorder shifted just enough to show a thin line of light spilling through a section of the window.