Ay: Ağustos 2024

Chance of a Ghost

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Babes

Most of the common folk are perfectly content to simply cower before a necromancer and his undead horde. Well, “content” may not be the word they would use, but they still cower all the same, never appreciating the necromancer’s effort. That’s the problem with peasants, really. They see one shambling army of the unliving and think they’ve seen it all. No respect for the craft. They complain when you burn down their village with a horde of flaming skeletons because you destroyed their livelihood. What about the necromancer’s livelihood? Do they have any idea how much it costs to assemble even the measliest of armies of death? Or do they figure that all necromancers are rich? It’s not like skeletons are made out of money. The job prospects aren’t that great, either. No opportunity for advancement either, particularly if you’re still alive. Liches are all the craze these days. You can’t even land a TA at a necromancer school unless you’re at least four hundred.

The point is, it’s not easy being a necromancer. It’s all fun at games at first, sure, but once you get to about a hundred or so staggering piles of rot and magic, time spent on logistics eats away at time spent reanimating things and being evil. Most necromancers pass off a lot of these tasks on apprentices, but those are hard to come by for a young practitioner of the art. The only option remaining, then, is to seek the assistance of one of the more intelligent varieties of undead. They tend to be expensive to make, yet cheap to hire, as the inability to experience most of life’s pleasures tends to reduce one’s cost of unliving. To facilitate these arrangements, it is not uncommon for necromantic associations to hold little get-togethers, generally scheduled around nights of necromantic auspice.

It was for one of these very events that Theodore was now preparing for. His army of death was small, but growing quickly, a hopeful contender in the competitive world of necromantic superiority. He had struck out at the last few get-togethers, so he was particularly anxious. He dirtied his hair for the fourth time today, applying a carefully crafted mix of grave dust and burnt sacrifices to his shaggy black hair while trying his best to keep his robes a pristine, shining black. He had no idea how the older guys did it. The disheveled-yet-formal look was more difficult than he had imagined. At least he had the pallid complexion down this time. He tanned well, the result of a life spent training with the sword before donning the robe of the necromancer. That, coupled with his love of the great outdoors, had made him stick out uncomfortably as the most life-like person in the room the last time he went looking for an undead assistant. He hadn’t seen the sun in months, but his hard work paid off: if he stood still, he could easily be mistaken for a marble statue, or possibly a drowned corpse.

Ted buttoned up his robe as he watched himself in the mirror. His robes were loose, intentionally hiding his muscular body, as necromancers were expected to be as lanky as possible. Finally satisfied with his appearance, he donned his hood and made for the door, nearly forgetting his staff — a twisted collection of exotic bones bound with sinew and topped with a skull — on his way out. He had yet to master the delicate art of astral projection, so he was forced to travel in-person. Fortunately, the meeting was not far away, an ancient cathedral, long abandoned before the Nordrhein Association of Necromancers had made it their headquarters. He mounted his steed, a young nightmare named Eadweard, and flew off into the sunset.

They arrived a few hours later, a scant quarter hour before the start of festivities. The ride had been easy and cool, so a few shakes and a little magic was all it took for Ted to neaten up his robes. He adjusted his hood, making sure that everything above the mouth would be hidden by shadow. The mysteriously shadowy hood was a relatively new invention, having been popularized by the again-late former lich Shadeskull the Fallen after his ascendance to the Council of Necromancers. The hood was uncomfortable, but such was the price of fashion. After making sure Eadweard disappeared safely into the night, he stepped through the rotten doors of the cathedral, hoping that the extra time would aid in his search.

The cathedral would have been grand, had it been maintained by anyone other than necromancers. The rows of pews had been torn out and replaced with large, open areas, often covered with arcane writings and glyphs. Indefatigable, the undead did not require vast amounts of seating. Piles of bones and the smell of rotting flesh permeated the interior, a thick coat of (artificial) dust covering every available surface, spare the organ in the back. Contrary to popular belief, bones, dust, and spiderwebs provide no benefit for organs. In fact, too much detritus could attract rats, which may well eat the bellows. Being evil isn’t as easy as it seems.

Only a few of the unliving had yet arrived, and fewer necromancers. A few pairs were already forming, and even some trios. Not all undead minions were zara escort exclusive, some being held like a timeshare between two or more necromancers. Death knights, in particular, were rarely used outside of battle. As such, their services were often split between as many as a dozen necromancers, a surprisingly important factor leading to the relative rarity of undead invasions. It took a lot of preparation to amass and direct in army in only a month. It was a little-known fact that this scheduling was often responsible for the sudden retreat or dissipation of entire armies. Most of the living would claim that it was the power of some god or hero. Necromancers, for their part, did little to correct this assumption.

Death knights, however, were far from what Ted was looking for. Not only were they too busy, but they generally refused to deal with the day-to-day grind of owning an undead horde. For the time being, Ted was content to lead his army himself, a small holdover from his former life as a military man. Vampires were hard for mortals to control, their powers of seduction often turning them from servant to master. Mummies excelled at tedious work, yet had exceptionally poor communication skills. They also tended to be high-maintenance. It seemed a wight would be his best bet. Unfortunately, none had yet to arrive, so he settled into one of the few chairs scattered about the floor and waited.

To Ted’s chagrin, it became quickly clear that he was not the only person who had considered this. The few wights that showed up were quickly surrounded by necromancers. In a crowd, Ted had little to distinguish himself, so he was relegated to watching the other necromancers ply their trade. Some offered treasure, while others sought to attract a servant with only their name and reputation. More often than not, the apparent winner had chosen instead to display his mastery of the arcane arts. Apparently, wights were attracted most to the skill of their potential master. At the very least, he had gained some valuable information from tonight. As the night drug on with little progress, he decided it was time for a drink, approaching the bartender and ordering the strongest drink he had that was still safe for mortal consumption. Unsurprisingly, it was terrible. However, alcohol is alcohol, and it was going to be a slow night.

Three drinks in, Ted was looking for a bathroom. Whatever that stuff was, it was not agreeing with him, alcohol or not. He was beginning to suspect it may have been some kind of poison when he finally made it to a wash basin. He knelt before it, trying his best to hold in his dinner. His mind briefly wandered back to the words of his former commanding officer, who had warned him that studying healing would have been more useful to a soldier than necromancy. Ted briefly feared that the man had been correct until he reminded himself that he was merely a little ill, and that his commanding officer was now Skeleton

8 and stowed away in an old barrel under his lair. On second thought, Ted was definitely right. He moaned to himself in discomfort, a mournful, chilling sound that surprised him as it came out. That is, until he realized he was not alone. He spun, nearly losing the contents of his stomach as he did so. Sure enough, a figure stood behind him, nearly invisible as it squirmed uncomfortably to and fro. A ghost.

Ted waved casually at the interloper before turning and emptying the night’s spoils into the basin. He felt a soft tingling sensation across his back and turned his eyes to see the ghost, slightly more visible now, rubbing his back as he heaved. Though he did appreciate the gesture, her insubstantial hands did little to help him. The ghost flickered a light pink and retreated slightly when he told her, leaving him to finish his business. A few minutes later, he rinsed the taste from his mouth with a nearby jug of water and turned to leave, surprised to see the ghost still standing next to him. She was completely visible now, a shimmering mist of white that hovered a few inches off the ground. She was captivating, more beautiful in death than any woman he had ever seen in life. Her features were delicate but refined, the unliving image of a fantastical princess. Ankle-length white hair wrapped around her legs, hinting that her noble appearance may well reflect a noble bearing. She was petite but shapely, giving her a youthful appearance that did not match the weight of ages in her expression. Her clothing too betrayed her age, a long and lacy party dress from an age gone by that waved gently in its own breeze, as insubstantial as the one who wore it. Her face bore a look of concerned compounded with the profound loneliness of undeath, yet it only served to highlight her gentle beauty.

Ghosts were a rare find at an event like this, their ethereal nature often making manual tasks far more complex. She was, however, his best lead of the night. Moreover, she was gorgeous, and totally his type. Dead, that is. He straightened in an instant, presenting his hand as he introduced himself. They both stared at his outstretched hand zeytinburnu escort until he withdrew it, wishing desperately that robes had pockets. Why the hell was magic so damn impractical? He broke out of his embarrassment as she introduced herself, her voice unsteady as she fought to suppress an amused smile.

She identified herself as Sophia, though she could remember precious little else from her mortal life. Her brief introduction was met with silence as the gears turned for Ted. He had never met a ghost before, and was at a bit of a loss. Mercifully, Sophia continued the conversation, making small talk. When she asked if Ted had yet found himself a minion, he quickly regretted letting her steer the conversation. He responded lamely that he had not yet found a suitable partner. Come to think of it, what was she even doing here? He hadn’t seen her in the main room, not to mention she was the first ghost he had ever seen. Weren’t they usually solitary? For a moment, she looked as though she might turn and flee. Instead, she answered stiffly that she was bored with haunting the family castle and had chosen to set out on her own, looking for a more interesting way to pass the ages. She went on, saying that most ghosts generally avoided such meetings, as necromancers generally rejected ghosts outright or worse, forced them into more useful, corporeal forms. She said that she hated the idea and decided to sneak in to see how things were going, and bumped into him almost immediately.

It was late and Ted was still feeling the effects of…whatever it was that he had most recently ingested. The way he saw it, he was in a no-lose scenario and decided to ask the ghost to name her price. Immediately upon doing so, he regretted opening a negotiation on such a weak foot, but her look of surprise and excitement told him he had little to fear from the ghost’s negotiation skills.

“Really, you’ll take me?”

“Well, we haven’t discussed a price yet, but-“

“Free! All I want is a place to live and something to do. I’ve been alone for so long.”

With a grin and a pronouncement, a deal was made on the spot. Ted was excited to finally have an assistant, but Sophia was in her own world. Her jaded appearance washed away, replaced by barely contained excitement. She talked so much, one would have feared she would have passed out, had she the need to breathe. He rode back to his lair silently as she floated with him, practically pouring out the story of her unlife as he struggled to keep up. True to her word, her unlife had been exceptionally boring, though Ted believed the ghost had at least earned an attentive listener. After all, she was working for free. Sophia clearly had no talent for haunting, as she ended up helping lost children or cleaning up dirty rooms more often than not. Apparently she had mastered telekinesis, so she would at least be able to contribute in that regard. In spite of her egregiously uninteresting stories, her excitement was contagious and Ted found himself responding and sharing stories of his own before he knew it. She must have been an incredible person in life if she could make a story about helping serve tea to a blind woman interesting. If nothing else, his dark and lonely days of rusting scimitars for skeletons and sizing replacement bones were over.

By the time they arrived at his home, Ted was starving, cold, and had a growing headache. Mercifully, the stories stopped as Sophia took the time to scout out his home. He knew she was a ghost, but it was still a little unsettling to watch her blithely disregard doors and walls as she ran around, prodding everything she saw with invisible force. He tried not to bring work home, but she managed to collect almost every trinket of his craft he left lying around the cottage and interrogate him about their various utilities. She did actually find some items he had been looking for, though, so he bit his tongue and tried to stay pleasant. While she was busy ransacking his house, he took the opportunity to make himself a meal, having lost his last some time ago. He offered her a plate as well, out of courtesy, and she declined politely, being a ghost.

As a consequence of living in the middle of nowhere, necromancers rarely dined well, usually simple stews made from whatever they could grow and what meat wandered accidentally into a trap or a pit of skeletons. Ted was no different in this regard, finding himself munching on hard bread and stew as he sat in silence at his small table. It was then that he realized Sophia was not talking. He looked up, curious as to her whereabouts and the cause of her silence, when he saw her “sitting” in a chair across from him, watching him eat. A spoon rose to his face as he watched her watching him, pondering where this was going. He swallowed and she sighed, slumping into her chair. She answered him before he could ask, claiming that she wished she could still eat. He tried to console her, assuring her that the food was somehow simultaneously bland and foul-tasting, yet it did little to lift her mood. Silence returned as he poured zonguldak escort his leftovers back into the pot, his appetite waning rapidly. He wanted to cheer her up, but was at a loss for how to do so. It was then that he remembered a failed project he had worked on years ago, something that may help. He excused himself and made the short walk to his lair, making certain he was not being followed. It was going to be a surprise.

One of the few sources of legitimate income for necromancers was in offering goods and services in defense against other necromancers. Nobility and particularly well-to-do merchants often warded their sleeping areas against the undead and their burial places against necromancy in general. Laws had always been rather unclear as to whether killing the zombie of a king was regicide, so it was in everyone’s best interest that bodies be well-protected. Ted had worked on such devices for some time, partially succeeding in making a material that no undead, no matter how powerful could rip or float through. Unfortunately, the cloth was ludicrously toxic to humans and tended to dissolve bones, so it was generally of little use. Wearing thick leather gloves, he retrieved the cloth, a square of roughly blanket size from a sealed chest and returned with a smug grin and a plan.

When Ted re-entered his home, he saw Sophia still in her chair, back to the door as she watched the low flames of the still-burning cooking fire. Unfolding the blanket, he approached her quietly before throwing it over her head and wrapping it around her body. She fell through her chair, screeching as she caught herself halfway through the floor, blanket now caught on the back of her seat. She shot him a look of annoyance before poking idly at the cloth, clearly surprised that it responded to her touch.

“It’s for you. It’s a little something I made years ago. It’s not safe for the living, but you should be fine. If you want, I can make some gloves or something out of it. Maybe throw it over you head and cut little eye holes so you can dress up like a ghost.”

A stupid smile grew slowly over his face as he said it, clearly impressed by his own sense of humor. Sophia stared blankly back at him before bursting into laughter, more at his attempt to cheer her up than the joke. She stood into the blanket, tenting it with her arms while attempting to make spooky ghost sounds. Her lack of skill at normal ghost activity clearly was not limited to haunting, as she sounded more like an out-of-tune accordion falling down the stairs inside a tuba than anything that could be remotely considered scary. Still, she was enjoying herself as she started to wander around, knocking over her chair and the table while alternately wailing and snorting with suppressed laughter. When she grew tired of her ghost impression, she freed her head and tied the blanket around herself like a shawl. She gave flashed an earnest smile and thanked him as she returned to her seat, now actually sitting upon the cloth. She shifted uncomfortably, obviously unused to tactile feedback. Despite her discomfort, she did seem to be enjoying herself.

Time passed as the two sat by the fire in silence. Unlike before, it was a comfortable silence, one shared between new friends. Eventually, Sophia yawned and stood, claiming that the day had been eventful and she needed to rest. Ted was unsure how to respond, trying instead to determine if she was pulling his leg. When she saw his confusion she assured him that while ghosts do not need to sleep, they do benefit from resting and recuperating the energy they used to manifest and control their supernatural form and power. Finished with her explanation, she picked out a spot on the floor and spread out the blanket before turning to wish her new employer good night.

She paused when she saw his expression, looking as though she had suddenly sprouted another head. She looked down to see what was amiss when she realized she was naked. With the realization, she grabbed at the blanket, forgetting that she was still standing atop it and somehow managing to upend herself in the process. She scrambled to regain her modesty, clutching the blanket over her modest bust.

“I simply forgot to project my clothing. It’s not a part of me or anything, and I just forgot. And stop staring at me like that.”

That was much easier said than done. The more she tried to cover herself, the more alluring her luminescent skin was. Her whole body glowed red as his eyes worked her over, her ghostly body apparently still able to express embarrassment. Speaking of embarrassment, it was then that Ted noticed the growing bulge in his pants. His realization seemed to draw her attention to the spot, his tenting clearly not unnoticed. For a time, they simply stared at each other as though slowly drawing imaginary lots to determine who would be forced to speak first. Despite his best efforts, the stiffness in his pants only grew. If he tried to cover himself now, he would be admitting defeat, something he would not do on his first day of having an assistant. If covering himself was admitting defeat, then the surest route to victory was to do the opposite. Without thinking, he sprung into action, dropping his trousers to the ground. His member sprang free from the stifling confines of his pants to stand proudly at attention, pointing directly at the surprised ghost.

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Caught in Darkness Ch. 05

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Cumshots

Author’s note: This story contains a bit of non-consent sex. Reader discretion is advised.

*

“They are creatures of the dark.” She said in a quiet tone. The elf lady sat nestled in his arms staring out into the darkness. Mule sat behind her with his back to the wall staring blankly at the black all around him. She had been describing the creatures that sulked about the room in detail to him – being his eyes for him. For the moment they felt safe here, the denizens of this room were a community of sorts. There was no violence among them, and they left the two well enough alone. Food was brought in through the maid door as vats of gruel. It was a mix of plant and animal leftovers. The food was lacking but it wasn’t horrid. One could say they were well fed by Zecarin standards.

“They are the children of man.” Mule whispered back. His tone hinted at sadness.

“I know of no magic that can change the shape. How can it be you are not a human?” She asked him. “How can they be the children of man?”

“It happened long ago.” Mule said. “I have strayed too far from them to be called human anymore. But to me, it is they who have strayed.” The explanation didn’t satisfy her, but the lady recognized a distraction for what it was.

“Tell me someday?” Was all she asked as she reached up to his cheek and caressed it slightly. “You have not asked my name? Is that not customary to greet among humans?”

“It is safer that I do not know.” Mule replied. “There is power in a name.” the elf lady shrunk away from that. Something in his voice disturbed her and a small fear planted itself in her mind. “Why do you stop yourself, when we are joined? There is nothing to fear. Eltharian and Humans are not compatible…” Mule did not answer her right away. His silence only made the moment more uncomfortable.

“I am not human.” He said at last, and then kissed the tip of her long ear. The reassurance was momentary. The lady kept the rest of her thoughts to herself after that.

“Killer.” Came a voice from the darkness that did not belong to either of them. Its tone was a greeting, and came from a creature with harsh vocal cords. The lady turned her head abruptly, and clenched his arms securely.

“a Langken.” She whispered to him. “a lizard-kin.”

“You are the killer.” The Langken said. “The one whom the guards speak of. The one whom we fear when they take our strong away.” It spoke with an old man’s voice. “You are the killer?”

“I am.” Mule said. “They made us fight.”

“This is known. They make many of us fight.” It approached them slowly. “You are human. You are Eltharian. This is known. Yet unknown to us.” It studied them for a moment before breathing deeply. “Such rare things from the surface do not last long here. This is known. We wish you peace, Killer.” The Langken made a chortling noise, some sort of farewell, as he left them alone.

In the darkness, Mule rested his head against the stone wall. His thoughts drifted away from the here and now to give him peace to think. The lady in his arms had grown silent. She drew herself away from him, hugging her knees to her chest. A seed of doubt about this human had been planted with the Langken’s words. Mule was a killer, one that could sneak into Zecarin territory undetected by their spell-wards and soldiers — the perfect assassin. Too perfect to just be a coincidence, and too dangerous to assume he had honorable intentions with her. If he intended to rescue her, why hadn’t he? What was he waiting for? These questions monopolized her attention while Mule napped behind her.

The door opened. Light entered and showed the denizens of this room in a different way to her. She turned her head and found Mule had woken from his short nap and was watching the Zecarian jailors as they stepped aside and let in the honor guard of The Majestic.

“They’re here for me.” Mule said as he rose to his feet. The soldiers were scanning the crowd when they spied him approaching. The Langken was also standing before them expectantly. Mule looked at the grey-brown walking lizard with a hunched back. Their eyes met face to face. “The Majestic would only send the elite for a Killer.” He told the old reptilian. One of the soldiers turned his spear point towards Mule. It was the slave keeper standing next to him that spoke.

“You, and the pale bitch.” Growled one of the jailors in the common language.

“Do not expect them both back.” The soldier with the spear chuckled to the jailor in Zecarin. “She has an appetite tonight.” Mule forced back his bristled reaction and glanced back to the elf lady. He motioned for her to follow before the soldier was bothered into action. Together they were ushered out into the light of the hallway.

They walked in silence through the halls. Mule studied the layout this time, his eyes were glued to the floor but each time they came to a junction he took note of the path they took. His mind was trying to memorize a map of sorts. When they opened yıldızeli escort the door to their destination, he found it to be same audience chamber he had recently left from. The heat vents made the air arid. The sensation made his wounds itch from the memory. He glanced down to see them well scabbed over. They had spent two days in the holding room at least.

The room was less crowded this time through. The Majestic sat lazily on a cushioned, orange onyx chair, her head propped up in her hand with a mixed look of boredom and anger. She wore a more conservative silver silk dress this time that covered her torso and neck, but left her arms bare. Her legs were wrapped in red leather leggings with glistening orange scales sewn into them. That chain of hers was gone. Across from her stood two Zecarin nobles in rich attire. A lady, younger than The Majestic wore a purple corset lined in gold trim. It met at her neck in a collar, and made a circle opening over her cleavage. Her legs were hidden behind a skirt of stringed black pearls. Her hands were demurely pressed together at her hips, and she gave Mule a suspicious look with pursed lips.

Her companion, a warrior-lord in full black scale, polished to a glossy sheen sneered at the lady elf behind Mule. His head slowly turned from her to Mule and their glances met. This one was a seasoned killer, and he measured Mule’s worth just as Mule was measuring his. It grew to an uncomfortable stare between them before the lordling forced himself to look away. Something snagged in Mule’s mind, he noticed no one was armed — except the soldiers that escorted them in. There was a chance.

“I was expecting someone bigger.” The guest lady said in Zecarin. “Are you sure?”

“This is him.” Her companion assured her, as he approached. The warrior-lord walked around them, sizing them up from top to bottom. “He is a marvelous specimen. One can see how he made it this far into our city. What is his worth?” The Majestic drummed her fingers impatiently on the arm of her onyx chair

“Much.” The Majestic replied. “For he has already cost me much.”

“You should be more careful with your things then. And this one?” He turned his eyes to the lady and she immediately shriveled away from him. “The body looks well, but the mind has seen some wear. Is she trained?”

“Neither is.” The Majestic let her annoyance show in her voice.

“I speak the language of humans.” The lord said in a hard accent. “I am The Unkillable.” He walked in front of Mule and presented himself. The human’s gaze immediately dropped to the floor. He kept his eyes there even as the Zecarin began to pull off his polished scale tunic. “You keep it so hot in hear. My skin must breath. His armor fell to the ground bit by bit until he stood bare-chested in his undergarments. “Look at me, and read the truth on my body.”

Mule glanced up, and briefly scanned over the hard toned muscles of this warrior’s thighs, arms, and torso. But they ignored his build when they saw his scars. He studied each one that littered his body. This was not some pampered lordling that stood before him, but a monster of war. Healed over holes, long dark gashes, and mottled skin that had seen the flame too closely. There were scars that told of wounds that no one could have survived on their own – a faint smile in the skin of his neck, a dent in his sternum. Everywhere but his face bore the marks of his life’s work. His head had been shaved, and he wore a mustache of red fur on dark grey skin.

“Yes, this one has seen war.” The Unkillable hissed in elation. “He will make a fine gladiator.”

“He is not for sale.” The Majestic yawned. “But you may play with his pet if you like. She likes that.”

“Faugh! I will not soil myself with the pale worms.” The Unkillable sneered and whirled suddenly on elf, striking her across the cheek with the back of his hand. The blow sent her to the ground, where she stayed motionless. Her eyes stared out blankly, awake but unresponsive — it was how she dealt with their punishment. The warlord gathered up his armor. “You always make this chamber so hot.” He sighed in fake distress as he paraded his muscled body before his companion. But his distraction fell on blind eyes, as the two women hadn’t let their gazes move from the other. “I will enjoy the hospitality of your pool garden. Seek me out there.” His footsteps thumped loudly on the stone floor with the pace of a soldiers march.

There is power in a name. Boils words echoed in his mind as he watched The Unkillable leave. His stomach knotted with the feeling of uncertainty — the only one that could possibly stand in his way just walked from this room half naked. To have a name like Unkillable is to be able to defend its truth.

“I am sorry, but these exotic pets of yours do not appeal to my appetites.” The lady in the pearl dress said to The Majestic. “The debt is not yet repaid, sister. I will visit again, and I hope you have something yozgat escort more worthy then.” She turned to leave, and the tightly braided ponytail of black hair swung behind her like a heavy rope. The elite guards that had brought Mule in now escorted her out. Mule realized this and turned to look at The Majestic. She in turn was already staring directly at him. It was a long, dreadful silence before she finally spoke.

“Here I sit unarmed.” She said in Zecarin. Her demeanor was much more subdued than her usually perverted bloodlust. “Yet I send my guards away. Why? Is it because I do not fear you?”

“It is because I should fear those two, more. You do this for our protection.” Mule quickly finished for her. His choice of words, and quick response showed he had mastered the Zecarin mannerisms of speaking to nobility. The Majestic lifted her head slightly and let a soft smile curve her lips. She stepped down from her chair and walked slowly towards him with her hands across her chest defensively. Her calm attitude was uncharacteristic. There was a complexity to the interactions of Zecarin nobles that Mule was just now beginning to understand. They wore many faces, and many masks. At least the women did; that warlord wore no other face but his own, and the scars that made Mule nervous.

“Humans are creatures of legend here.” She spoke softly to their air. “Few are those that have seen one. Fewer are those that know what they can do… or cannot do.” She let the comment hang in the air before continuing. “We all know what the pale ones are capable of.” She said with distaste as she glanced at the Eltharian lady. “They only inspire fear in their own homes. Here, alone, enslaved, they are pitiful.” With the toe of her red leather boot she rolled the lady onto her back.

“What am I to do with you?” She pressed her toe to the lady’s cheek and rolled her head to the side. Mule knew she was not talking about the elf.

“I claimed a service. I will serve.” Mule stated flatly. He couldn’t help but look at the back of The Majestic’s neck. One quick grab, and this devil women would be dead without a sound. He could take his charge and run, he knew the way out. But something inside him said simply – ‘wait’.

“Yes. You will.” The Majestic again let the comment hang in the air. “It would serve you well, to maintain the mystery of humans, and reveal nothing.” She never looked at him as she turned to leave. “Outside this door, my servant will take you to your new apartments. She will see to it you are cleaned and clothed appropriately.” Mule helped the elf to her feet and helped her follow the Mistress.

“It would also serve you well to rid yourself of the one person in this city that knows what a human is truly capable of.” A cold chill immediately ran down the elf lady’s spine as The Majestic spelled out Mule’s weakness in their little game.

But when she looked up at him, he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

* * * * *

Mule looked at the tub in question. The water steamed up in the already warm air, dictating that the temperature would be too high for his liking. The mistress had commanded that he be bathed and cleaned so he would be tolerable to the nobility. But the attendant had taken some liberal assumptions about how to do that. Mule glanced over his shoulder at the serving girl. She was Zecarin, but disfigured, like Boil. The left side of her head and shoulder was completely scarred, probably from a fire. She grew her hair long to cover that side of her face and always kept her gaze downward. Even now as she scrubbed mules back with a porous stone she was watching his heels. Mule had been lathered by her ministrations in a oily-soapy residue. It smelled musky, and made his skin slick. The dried blood, sweat, dirt, and other grime of the last few weeks were being scrubbed off along with a layer of skin. It left finished areas freshly pink and tender. Behind them, the Eltharian lady watched in quiet study.

The three of them were the only ones in this bathing room. The stone tiled floors were rough, absorbing the moisture from the feet that tread across them. Whereas the tub itself was recessed into the floor and made of scintillating colored glass that reflected and refracted the light from a source underneath it. The tub glowed, casting its array of colors onto the walls and ceilings, yet leaving most of the rest of the room dim. This chamber was meant for royalty, and the serving girl was part of it. This was not something Mule would likely see again, but in it was a lesson to be learned. His Mistress was teaching him things without saying the words herself. It was Boil who first gave him that lesson – “Listen to what is not said, more than what is said.”

This bath house was luxurious. The Unkillable mentioned he was headed to the pool gardens when he left the audience chamber. If a male like him, a warrior, also indulged himself like this, then he was a soldier that had earned it. Zecarin’s yüreğir escort earned everything through conquest – status, desires, wealth. The Unkillable was dangerous. That was what his Mistress was trying to show him — through a measure of what the male Zecarin earned for himself.

A cascade of cold water shattered his train of thought as it poured over him washing away the oily soap. He jerked involuntarily and clenched his fists tight as well as his teeth. Wet, brown curls dripped into his eyes and he shook his head violently to send water droplets out away from his face. The attendant placed her hands on his back and ran her fingertips down his flexing muscles in a soothing fashion. Her arms wrapped around him as she pulled herself against his back. Her warm bare skin pressed up against his chilled nerves.

It did the trick of instantly soothing him back into a relaxed state. The contrast of cold and warmth was another one of her skilled ministrations for relaxation. His head lifted back reflexively and nestled against the top of her head as his neck sought out more of her to warm him. It was an instant later he remembered who he was and where he was that he sat up straight again and pulled away from her.

Mule looked down to his arms, and the raw tender skin was showing the veins in his arms clearly. The constricting cold had jarred his circulation into pumping faster, and the clenching of his muscles caused the veins to distort grotesquely above his skin. He looked down his bare body and was amazed that the effect was not limited to his arms.

The attendant crossed his field of view and brought his thoughts back to the now. She took his hands and led him slowly into the steaming tub. Her naked form started to disappear below the low lying fog. In that moment Mule noticed how beautiful she looked, her hair perfectly masked her deformity so long as she kept her gaze down. And as she led him into the water, there was a certain allure to her that he struggled to fight back. It wasn’t until he was waste deep in the bath that he realized the water wasn’t as scalding as he anticipated. It was in fact very preferable and relaxing. The floor under the water stepped off sharply about a foot making a ledge or seat.

The attendant placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down onto it, submerging the rest of his torso up to his armpits. Slowly she circled around him and positioned herself to sit behind him with her legs under her. Each instruction she had given him had been with her hands, she never said a word to him, her hands did that for her. So he stared out at the water as he had done and waited. Her hands touched his neck and started to rub the tension and pain away. Her hands spoke to him “Surrender To Me.”

Her arms made no splash in the water as they worked nor did she make any sound other than the light breathing of her slender form. The room was silent. The light was pleasingly low yet enough to navigate around. The temperature was constantly warm. The smells were subtly musky from the soap and lightly herbal from incense burners in the corners. This had all been planned out to an art form – this was a room for seduction.

The thought had no sooner occurred to him than a soft wet sensation stole his mind back to the bath. The attendant’s lips were on his neck kissing softly up the curve of the muscle and tendon towards the ear. It was a sensation that sent all kinds of nerve impulses throughout his body. Part of him had already been seduced by her attention and begged for more, and yet the other wanted to push her way. His muscles tensed drastically. The attendant sensed his discomfort and backed away, her fingers replaced her lips and started to rub and kneed those tensing muscles back into submission.

Mule turned his head slightly and glanced back to the corner of the room where his companion sat watching them. Her face was stoic, and unemotional, and she watched them both as instructed. This was a lesson for her as well as for Mule. Since he had claimed her, The Majestic had commanded that she attend to him in their fashion, so that Mule would learn their ways and live as one of them. She was to attend to him, as the scarred Zecarin now did, and this was her first lesson.

The attendant’s lips found the back of Mule’s neck again, this time he didn’t resist. Her hands roamed over his shoulders and down his arms, rubbing and kneading with a surprising firmness that overwhelmed his senses and he found himself taking deep sharp breaths in elation. Her thumbs pressed into the large muscles between his shoulder blades that ran down his spine and worked away the knots. She put her weight into it as she rose forward onto her knees and used her body’s entire motion to work out the tension in Mule. The effect was immediate. His shoulder’s slumped forward and he let a soft moan escape his lips. The lower her hands went the farther forward he leaned to accommodate her. When they reached his waistline she slid forward and pressed forward against his back. Her small breasts were firm enough to illicit an immediate response from Mule as he sat back up, but only to pressing against her. Her strong fingertips found their away around him to his manhood, and took him in her grasp.

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Captive Banshee – A Halloween Story

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Black Cock

This year the pixies brought me a tale of a Banshee as my Celtic Halloween story. At least, I think it was a pixie. It is sometimes difficult to keep the various Fay folk of the Emerald Isle in the proper category.

In any case this is the story of a captive Banshee and how she is finally freed. As with all my Celtic stories, some of this is historical, some is Irish myth, and some is literary license. I leave it to you to determine which is which.

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WARNING! This warning is probably not needed for this story, but my other stories are usually much stronger. If you are not familiar with my writings and look for other stories, please read the introductory notes so you have an idea of the type of content involved.

All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2016 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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* * * * * * * * * * * *

I normally ignore emails sent to me by people I don’t know– especially ones with attachments– but this particular message piqued my curiosity. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t do a special virus scan on it before opening it. According to my anti-virus program, the email itself scanned clean and the attachment appeared to be a standard pdf file with no links, so I opened the main email to see what ParaIrish101 had to say.

ParaIrish101 was actually Marie O’Callahan. That was a name I recognized– especially since her signature section included her picture and the name of her television program. She was the host of one of those cable paranormal investigation programs that you watch at one am when nothing else is on.

The subject line of the email had said, “A Celtic Halloween Mystery.” The text said simply, “From the Celtic stories you’ve posted, I think you would be interested in this. If so, give me a call.” It then gave two cell phone numbers. One was labeled, “Official Business.” The other was labeled, “Personal.”

I called the one which said, “Personal.” A soft feminine voice answered and I said, “Did you just send me a file?”

She stammered a moment and then answered, “Yes.”

“Call you back after I’ve read it,” I said as I broke the connection.

Yes, I act paranoid. But you aren’t truly paranoid if there are people out to get you. I’ve upset enough people in the electronic world with my stories that I have to be suspicious.

Ten minutes later I called her back. The file was a scan of a newspaper article. The headline was, “A Connecticut Banshee.” The story was about a Banshee which supposedly haunts an Irish pub in a small community just outside of The Devil’s Den Nature Preserve in Connecticut.

According to the article, the pub, which was called The Captive Banshee, had been established in the early 1800s. For over 200 years, local residents reported sightings of the Banshee, especially near Halloween. Her keening wail, which could regularly be heard splitting the night, was assumed to be a portent of death for the person who heard it.

When Marie answered this time, I asked, “Why me?”

She laughed and answered, “Because you are a man of few words who gets right to the point.” I heard her moving something around on a desk or whatever. “And,” she continued, “you have an understanding of Celtic myth and folklore.”

“There are a lot of experts out there,” I replied. “Many of them are better than me.”

“But none can write as well as you.” she said, starting to sound like a saleswoman making a pitch.

“And you need the publicity my stories would generate to leverage a jump to a major network with your show,” I answered.

After a long pause, she said flatly, “Yes.” Her voice then switched to desperate. “But that doesn’t mean this isn’t something that you would really like to do. … Something I need you to do.”

“Tell me what is so special about this Banshee for you,” I said. “Stay with the truth or I hang up and you can get a different expert.”

“I think this one is real,” yeşilköy escort she answered shakily. Her voice had that tension that comes from revealing a truth to someone you aren’t sure of.

“I think there is a Banshee… or something… held captive at that pub.” She said firmly and then paused… for a long time. Finally she said, “And this isn’t for my show. There will be no cameras or crew.”

She paused again and I waited her out. Finally she said, “It’s personal. Whatever it is, I have to free it… It has to be me… I’m the one who has to do it… because I’m the only one who can free it.”

That last came out almost like a question, as if she was afraid to say it, or thought that I wouldn’t believe it.

“What makes you think that?” I asked. I was now genuinely interested.

Perhaps my interest showed in my voice because her answer sounded much more relaxed. “For two reasons,” she said calmly. “One, I am a direct descendent of Shane O’Callahan who built the pub in 1809.” I could hear her clear her throat. “And two,” she continued with a bit more hesitancy, “the Banshee comes to me in my dreams and begs for my help.”

“Ooooh!” she blurted out in a deep, almost painful growl. “Now you probably think I’m weird or crazy or both.”

I laughed. “I’ve heard a lot weirder,” I said while still laughing, “from people who are a lot crazier than you.” Without intending it, my voice snapped to serious as I continued, “and what they had to say to me turned out to be absolutely true.”

“So you are willing to help?”

“Count me in,” I replied. “What do you want to do and when?”

“WHEN is part of the reason I came to you rather than some other expert,” she replied. “You are one of the few people who understand the difference between dark night and Halloween. Halloween is always October 31st, but true Celtic Dark Night is always the dark of the moon following the autumnal equinox. This year Dark Night is a full moon cycle before the Roman All Hallow’s Eve.”

Her voice became almost hard as she said very firmly, “Whatever this spirit is, it’s Celtic, not Roman. And to free it, we have to be there on Dark Night, not four weeks later when the rest of the media will be there for Halloween.”

While she was speaking, I was quickly consulting a moon phase calendar. “So,” I said, “we need to be at the inn the weekend of October first if we are going to meet this Banshee or spirit or whatever she is.”

“I’ve already made reservations for two rooms from Friday, September thirty through Sunday, October second,” she answered. “Do you want to meet me there or should we meet somewhere else first?”

“I’ll meet you there,” I answered. “I assume one room is in your name and the other is in mine.”

“Good assumption,” she replied, “I’ll see you Friday night.”

***

I should have gotten better directions to the inn. My GPS took me hell and gone down the wrong road. I finally got back to the highway and stopped at a gas station and asked the attendant for directions to The Captive Banshee inn.

“Never heard of it,” was his quick reply.

“Shit!” I said loudly and then calmed myself. “Is there a haunted Irish inn or pub in the area?” I asked.

“Oh, yes!” he responded enthusiastically. “The Happy Irishman is just up the road. They rent rooms too.” He paused as if thinking deeply, “But the she devil isn’t supposed to show up until Halloween. That’s when all the news people are going to be here.”

“Good for them,” I said as I turned to leave. On the way back out to my car, I sighed and said softly, “If this is actually real, they’re going to be a month late.”

***

Several miles down the road I arrived at a colonial style building set back just a little ways from what had once been the main road through the area. Evidently they built the new road right alongside the old one, so the old highway formed part of the parking lot for The Happy Irishman.

As I got out of my car, I looked up at the sign which hung out over the door. It was done in a typical colonial style with green, old-English lettering on a white background. Beneath the words, “The Happy Irishman Pub and Inn,” there was a caricature of an old Irishman, or perhaps it was supposed to be a Leprechaun. He was holding a full stein of beer and had a silly grin on his face. Somehow he looked familiar to me. Maybe I had seen a similar image in an ad somewhere, but I couldn’t imagine an advertising agency using an image that looked that fakey.

“Very authentic,” I muttered as I stepped through the front door into a very small entry area. Marie was already checked in and was waiting for me in the public house portion of the inn. I quickly checked in and took my bags to my room. It was basically a bed and breakfast type of place.

My room on the second floor was a very small, but serviceable bedroom. Since the building was from the 1800’s, there were no closets and the shower was down the hall, but somewhere along yeşilyurt escort the line, someone had added a very small bathroom in the corner that I evidently had to share with my neighbor. There was a small sign on the door which said, “Remember to keep this door closed and locked when not in use.”

I left my bags unpacked in my room and went back down to sit with Miss O’Callahan. She had gotten us a booth. Menus were already on the table as well as a tankard of dark ale. It was on my side of the booth. She was sipping what looked like a standard pale American lager.

“I see you’ve done your homework,” I said as I picked up the tankard.

“This may be my only shot at this,” she replied. “I did my research.”

“And your research brought you to me,” I said.

“Actually,” she said firmly, “my research brought you to this inn.” She shoved a menu across the table to me and said, “The owner has agreed to meet with us later after we eat. They have everything from Black Pudding to Cottage Pie. He recommends the corned beef if you want something Irish. Otherwise they have a full range of steaks.”

I wasn’t sure that ordering a steak in an Irish pub wouldn’t put me on the bad side of whatever spirit or sprite was trapped there, but I also couldn’t see eating sausage made with pigs’ blood or a mixture of mashed potatoes and beef stew, so I opted for the corned beef sandwich. It was surprisingly good and was served with a side of English-style chips.

As we ate, I attempted to make small talk, but mostly I watched Marie. I knew that she was in her mid to late twenties, but she looked much younger. There was something about her that seemed so “innocent” but I couldn’t quite say what it was.

She had blue eyes that could come only from Ireland. They didn’t have the cold, steely grayness that Nordic or German blue eyes often have. Instead they were bright, flower-in-the-spring blue. And when she talked she had this way of opening them so that the whites of the eyes showed all around the bright blue iris.

Her skin had that almost ivory paleness that you find in parts of Ireland. Normally that skin tone is accompanied by dark black hair, but hers was a subdued light brown with a heavy hint of orange when the light struck it from behind her. It was no surprise that she was successful on television.

It was difficult to assess her body while she was sitting in the booth, but if the fit and shapely legs which I glimpsed as I approached the booth were an accurate indication, her lily-white body was probably what many men dreamed of.

After we had exhausted the polite topics of weather, sports, and politics I suggested that we get down to business. “What exactly do you know about whatever this is that we are trying to free?” I asked.

“I know more about my great-great-great-whatever grandfather,” she answered. Her voice turned harsh and the brightness went out of her eyes as she spoke. “He was an evil man,” she said harshly. “And not just for what he did to this bean-sidhe.” She pronounced the old name for a dweller of the fairy mound in a Gaelic fashion that sounded very much like a badly inebriated person trying to say, “banshee.”

“So you think she is a fairy of some sort?” I asked, interrupting her.

“She’s definitely fay,” she said firmly, and then just as firmly, she said “and Shane O’Callahan was just as definitely evil.” She set her sandwich down on her plate and looked across the table at me. There was fire in her eyes now, and it wasn’t a pretty fire. It was anger.

“He made his money in Ireland acting as a foreman for the British landowners,” she said very heatedly. “In 1803 he saw his chance for blood money and sold Thomas Russell’s location to the conquerors. That’s what he used to come to this country and build this inn.”

She took a deep breath and continued, “When the inn wasn’t prosperous enough for him,” she practically snarled, “he advertised in the rural areas back home that he had guaranteed jobs for young men in the New World. He promised them that they could make enough to bring their families over in just a few months. But when the ships arrived in New York, those who had survived the passage as steerage were all but sold into slavery to the mines and the mills.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she finished softly. “Many were never heard from again.” She paused and said slowly, “And he was evil enough to entrap a Fay and keep her captive forever.”

I gave her a moment to compose herself and then asked a very needed question. “Are we sure that we are dealing with a captured spirit and not just old Shane hanging around and causing trouble?”

Her eyes fired once again and she spat out, “Shane O’Callahan is in hell! That is for sure. The last thing my great-whatever grandmother did was to see that her son and daughter would be taken care of and then she took that bastard to hell with her.”

She smiled somewhat strangely. “There are still burn marks on yıldırım escort the outside walls in back where the owner used to live. This isn’t Shane. It’s whatever unfortunate Fay he tricked or overpowered. He’s gone, but whatever he did to hold her here, still has her bound.”

“How can you be so sure about Shane?” I asked.

“She showed me,” Marie answered flatly. “I already knew most of it from family stories, but she showed me everything.”

“I have to ask,” I said. “You study paranormal phenomena. You know that sometimes unexplained things are just projections from a troubled mind. How can you be sure that all of this isn’t just your own projections of a family history that is very difficult to accept?”

She smiled at me. “I am twenty-seven years old,” she answered. “And the Fay has been raising havoc here at the inn for two centuries.”

At that point the pub owner interrupted us and Marie slid further into the booth to allow him to sit with her. “I’m Sean O’Brian,” he said. “I understand ye want to talk to me about the banshee.” His slight Irish brogue surprised me. He didn’t look Irish. If I were to bet, I would have placed him much farther south, perhaps somewhere in the Mediterranean area.

“That is part of the plan,” Marie answered. “But we are trying to do more than that.”

“Can you get rid of it?” he asked, sounding very eager. “Can you make it go away and stay away?”

“Yes,” she answered in a very measured tone, “we think we can free her.”

“I have a question,” I said, interrupting them. “If the name of this place is The Captive Banshee, why does the sign say The Happy Irishman?”

“Because she won’t let me put that on the sign!” he said emphatically.

“Who?” Marie asked.

“The Banshee,” he growled. “After I read that piece about the Connecticut Banshee, I got rid of my bar in Brooklyn and figured I could make a killing down here with the tourist trade. But when I put the old name up on the sign, she tore it down. I tried again, and she repainted it. You don’t think I put that silly, grinning leprechaun up there do you?”

His Irish brogue was now completely gone. “The local historical society is threatening to sue my ass and fine me a couple thousand a month if I don’t restore the inn back to its true name. I told them that the Banshee wouldn’t let me put the sign back up and they sent some naturalist over to explain things to me.”

He huffed heavily, “He told me there was no such thing as banshees and he was going to prove it to me. He put a big rat in a cage out on that little strip of grass right in front of the building. Then he set up a night scope video camera and told me to wait to see what took the rat.”

He looked back and forth between Marie and me before continuing. “About an hour after it got dark, the cage started rattling. ‘Now you will see that your Banshee is just a barn owl,’ he said to me. But when we looked at the screen, all we could see was the cage being torn apart. Something tore the door off the cage and the rat ran across the lot.”

He was starting to get a little excited as he spoke. “The guy said he would come back the next night with a stronger cage. … He did. He drove stakes into the ground and chained everything in place. He told me it was just a really big owl.”

He slapped his palm on the table between us. “She tore that cage apart like it was pipe cleaners. Then she flew over to the camera and looked right at me. ‘Carlo,’ she said, ‘don’t taunt me or certain people on the lower east side will find out that you didn’t die in the fire that destroyed your bar.’

“Yeah,” he said, “I ain’t Irish. And I’ve got gumba hitmen who would be looking for me if they knew I was alive, but I’m more afraid of that Banshee than I am of anyone down in New York that wants me dead. I’ll never forget that blue-white face and that white hair. That hag wasn’t just looking at me through the camera. She came right out of the fucking television set and screamed in my face.”

He slid out of the booth and stood up. “Do whatever you want,” he said abruptly. “Just tell me in advance where you want your things sent when you don’t come back.”

As he started to walk away, he shouted back over his shoulder, “Oh, and the meal’s on the house. It’s the most I can do for someone who might free me of this damned spook. Besides, it might be your last meal.”

Marie looked over at me with a wide smile. “Do you still think this Banshee might just be my hysterical projection?” she asked.

“Not at all,” I answered. “Not at all.” I took a sip of what was left of my ale and asked, “So what’s the plan?”

The plan was simple. The next night Marie and I would go out into the small field behind the inn just before dark. We would wait there until midnight. When the Banshee showed up, Marie would find out what was needed to free her.

***

My mother often said, “Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.” As I have lived out my life, many different occasions have proven that saying true. Tonight was one of them.

A little after midnight I was awakened by a soft knocking on the bathroom door. As I pulled myself out of bed, I heard Marie’s voice. “We need to talk,” she said. “I made a very severe miscalculation.”

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Breeders , Bulls Pt. 07

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Asian

(Chapter 27.) The jerking room.

I have been free from my cage for a week. I fucked and jerked for a week. Angel, Adam, Thomas and so many others my cock is sore. However, as I feared I am called to the jerking room on the first day. The med bot gives me a shot. I feel giddy. It feels like Cobra Blood but really fucking strong like the stuff Mark had and maybe even stronger. My dick springs to life and is harder than ever. My mind fogs with lust worse than ever.

My head buzzes my dick throbs and I look at the other guys. Maybe 20 of us are in the room. There are small bottles of lube scattered around the room and there are boxes of Cum Rags.

There is not much else in the room 20 horny boys all raring to go and nobody wanting the end result. I feel the effects of the Cobra Blood or whatever it is. Fuck I am so hard. I try not to, but I just grip the shaft of my dick which is leaking. I hold it and it still feels so strange, the head feels super sensitive and I stroke the shaft and it feels wrong. I can’t do this, I can’t jerk away my manhood but I feel so fucking horny.

I think back to Gordon and his story of this room. My dick is throbbing and I know that this is the next few days. This is the last time my dick will harden. I think about Thomas and his clit boner and how squishy it was and that will be me tugging a clit calling it hard and knowing the loss of the burning rod of iron between my hands right now. My big 10 inch dick reduced to a fucking breeder clit. I want to cry, but the only thing weeping right now is the precum from my dick.

I look over at Brandon, one guy I know from the gym. He is already jerking his cock. He has put lube on his hands and shaft and is jerking away.

My dick feels so painfully hard, and I see some of the other guys start and I cave in. I grab the lube and put it on my hands back to the shaft of my cock. I coat myself in slick gel over and over. I grab more lube and repeat. It feels so strange. It is right what Gordon said, it is like a whole new dick. My wonderful foreskin is gone, and soon the rest of my dick will be gone with it.

I tug and jerk in the old way but that only hurts and feels wrong. I had two jerks with my new cock before today and I applied a different pressure using longer strokes. I feel more sensation in the lower part of the shaft rather than the end. I do the two-handed motion of long quick strokes one after the other, focusing on the base of the shaft, a firm hard grip up and over, up and over. Caressing my bell end with a flourish of each stroke.

I cum fairly quickly and the cum pools on my hands and belly and chest. I start to cry. I am jerking away my ability to ever get hard again. My mutilated cock will never feel like this when I get out of this place.

I go to take a piss and notice the guy next to me has a much smaller dick. His dick is pointing straight up. Unlike mine. I am joined by another guy, Brandon. He’s like me, his dick points out, not up. My boner means I struggle a little with the flow of piss. The guy next to me loses his grip on his cock and his piss flies everywhere.

“Sorry.” He says.

“Piss boner won’t be a problem much longer,” Brandon says.

He is right. I struggle and finish pissing. Brandon is right. This place will rid us of ever having piss boner, morning wood, or any kind of wood for that matter.

I am ready to jerk again all too soon. I hate my new dick. I won’t even have this much longer. I pause for a while, exhausted, covered in sweat, cum, and tears. I am taken away. I had barely noticed they took the boys away and brought them back.

I am carted off to the med bay. They strap me down. The Doctor sticks a metal device down my dick, and it hurts just after it goes in. It sinks deeper down my piss slit and eases down deep into my hard cock until it won’t seem to go any further. Then they take readings of god knows what.

“Yep coming along nicely.” They injected me a few times. My dick springs to life harder than ever. I spring to life and the exhaustion abates. I am high on something. I want to shout ‘I am not coming along nicely, this is my fucking dick you are messing with,’ but I don’t.

The jerking carries on. Pissing, jerking, fucking; Brandon lets me take his ass a few times and I only stop to drink water. I even sleep at one point, but that doesn’t last. I am back in the med bay again, and I have lost track of almost anything. No sense of time. It feels like days but I just don’t know.

“This one is nearly done.” I hear a voice.

“Give him the Nexodrol then.” I look around and it is Doctor Anderson.

“But that is…” The doctor who is looking at me is interrupted.

“I said give him the fucking Nexodrol.” Doctor Anderson’s raised voice is fearsome. This is the bastard that cut me.

“Yes sir,” He says to Doctor Anderson.

“Well pissy breeder bitch Brett. Look at you now. Nexodrol for you to get you on your way faster than the other boys. Then I have a few other surprises for you,” Doctor Anderson yalvaç escort says to me and then grabs my rock-hard dick. He runs a thumb over the scar. “Fuck that is one of my best pieces of work.” He chuckles and lets go of my cock.

I am taken back for more furious jerking. My dick hurts, my body aches and my need for release just doesn’t seem to end, if anything it gets worse. An itch that can’t be successfully scratched.

On the next visit back to the med bay I feel horrible. Doctor Anderson is still there.

“How is it coming along?” Doctor Anderson asks the other doctor who just jabbed me.

“He is almost done, the tissue is degrading. Erection functionality won’t last much longer. See, give it a squeeze,” says the other Doctor.

Doctor Anderson grabs my dick again and squeezes it. “Indeed yes, it has a little bit of give in it. Not quite the rod of iron anymore. Funny how the bigger ones do go first. Isn’t it?” says Doctor Anderson.”Oh dear, Brett, enjoy your last few hours of boners. I will see you in a few weeks. I hope to give you that nice big fat clitty I promised you. A sad reminder of your old cock and a welcome sign hanging over the entrance to your wet cunt. Send him back,” Doctor Anderson says, but not before giving my cock one last painful squeeze.

I am taken back and that overwhelming need in my cock to cum even though now it is sore to touch and I have to work it lightly. I pour some more lube onto my dick. I am horny as fuck but it feels like a tube of flesh. I run the lube up and down the shaft and on my hands.

It feels like pins and needles in my cock like someone else is stroking it. For a while, it feels good again. It is a strange sensation. My dick throbs and I work it and the pain and sensitivity is replaced by something else, a strange almost numbness and yet there is just enough pleasure in what I am doing and just enough crazy driven horniness to carry on.

I work it, and I notice it is less firm. When I squeeze it in my hands. The shaft does have more give in it. It starts to feel good again, the pain has gone. It feels strange and good as I slide up and down my dick and I cum a small trickle of almost clear liquid. My balls are drained.

The more I carry on the less firm it feels. Another orgasm this time a little whiteness to it. I stop for a while. I drink some water and find that the piss boner is gone. It is still hard, but it isn’t pointing out quite the same way. There is less resistance, less bone in my boner. I’m only semi-hard and not at my full 10 inches anymore.

I carry on stroking and tugging, stopping and starting. It feels strangely better than ever. Tender maybe but the feeling of pins and needles is there and it feels strangely good and I can’t seem to find the release I want.

The give in my dick is more and more evident to me with each passing stroke and squeezing it is like squeezing soft play putty. I feel the pre ooze out of me. I know I am fucking horny and yet somehow my dick won’t respond. It feels different not only from the feel of the scar down the shaft the way the skin won’t scroll back and forth. But the lack of a boner is increasingly evident and yet somehow I know I am as hard as I can be.

I sob a little more as the guy next to me is desperately stroking and tugging what is clearly a flaccid spent cock. He looks at me with real sadness and before I know it he is taken away.

I knew I was heading that way and it has the heft and length of a big cock yet it won’t get hard and I tug furiously but to no avail. I am still crazy horny and I tug but this dick won’t respond. It is spent, done, a big fat long and soft piece of skin and flesh. I have jerked my boner away. I want to sob but am too tired. I have a piss funnel, a useless piece of soft flesh. I go to the piss wall and piss with ease. That is all it is good for now.

I sit back down and stare at my fat cut cock. It is not getting hard. I stroke it and I caress it and tug and pull and cry a little more. And I know I am done, the last few days of jerking are over. My days of ever jerking my cock are over. It is a clit. It will never fuck again.

I think about Gordon and what he said and Angel and now I can feel it my fat fucking dong is useless to me now.

I grunt desperately, and it is starting to hurt me now and as painful and tender as it is I somehow refuse to accept it. I am horny, I know I am fucking horny. The skin feels sore and tender, the pins and needles are gone. I tug, stroke, and pull and I feel the sweat pouring into my eyes. I end up tugging the soft cock. Desperate to get it hard, to feel even any sort of boner, even a little chub, and I hurt myself as I yank it.

“Fucking Get Hard. I don’t want a cunt. I don’t want a fucking clit,” I scream.

I feel my muscles in my arms ache and nothing and more lube and then they come for me. As they lift me up I feel my soft cut dick swing down between my legs. Never to get hard again.

….

(Chapter 28.) Brett’s yenibosna escort Bloom.

I slept for 24 hours and when I woke up I felt horny. My dick; I grab it and it feels strange, still tender and the end is slick with pre. But no morning wood. I am horny without a fucking horn. I squeeze it again just to check and it is still sore and tender. I tug at it for a while and there is no sign of hardness, just tender soft flesh.

I stand up and walk, and my cock and balls hang down between my legs and swing about as I walk to the shower like they always have. That’s all they’ll ever do again, swing soft and useless. At least until they pull up inside of me, too small to even swing.

Maybe it isn’t true I tell myself, pushing those thoughts away but I know it is. I sit down to take a piss and look down at my soft cock hanging down. I am sitting down to take a bitch piss. I am starting to feel a sense of shame now, a real burning sense of shame about what I am becoming.

I shower and clean myself up and see Adam. His legs and ass are covered in roses and his back. He really is colorful to look at, and they somehow suit him.

“How are you feeling babe?” he asks. I look at him and he smiles at me.

“Fucking awful,” I say, and he puts his hand on my back.

“It is hard. It is difficult. You will adjust as we all do,” he says.

He cleans out his pussy and lingers over his clit as he showers and I feel something but my dick doesn’t respond.

The rest of the day is pretty much the same. I work out with Mason who is maybe still a week or so away from his visit to the jerking room. I see him get hard at one point when he is working out. I get really jealous of his hard dick. His dick hard is as long as mine is soft, but hard he can fuck with that thing and I can’t ever do that again.

He is looking at one of the breeder whores on a running machine and I get a pang of jealousy as I take in his average erection.

He tells me he has a fuck later. Angel fixed him up with Felix. I laugh.

“Enjoy it while you can,” I say and laugh again. I want to cry, but I manage to laugh instead.

“Shit sorry that was really fucking insensitive of me Brett,” Mason says.

“Don’t sweat it. I am too tired to care,” I say.

….

The next few days it begins to dawn on me, the reality setting in. So many times I will look at a breeder, Mark, Thomas, Angel, Adam all of them I fucked and not get hard. I will feel something, and I feel it more and more but what it is I can’t explain. It is horny but different.

I see Angel and Dane laughing and my dick leaks as I look at them both. But nothing, no twitches, no response, nothing. The number of things that would or should set me off is reduced to zero.

I work out and eat. I am getting back into shape. Not for Liam, for me. Maybe for Liam. I want to be in shape and besides, there is nothing else to do around here. I try not to think about Liam because that is the ultimate boner test. I couldn’t think about that man before without getting hard. Now I know I don’t get hard.

Even without feeling in my dick, there is a sense of something and a sense of arousal but not that solid growth of a bone. The thickening of my shaft to a hard fucking cock is gone forever. Now I just have a soft dick and a funny fucking feeling that won’t go away.

I tried tugging my cock in the shower mostly just to see, just to make sure. It is leaking badly and I am horny. Really fucking horny. My cock leaks a lot. I was never a big leaker but now I fucking am. Is this a preview of the leaky pussy I’m going to have? Adam told me that the dildo room is the best option. When I get my bloom then it is a must, or I will go fucking crazy. He also offered to peg me.

…

I spend more time with Thomas these last few days and as I go to meet up with him. I think about Thomas and his offer to have sex with me when I get my pussy. Shit, my pussy, how long now?

I sit with Thomas for a few hours and massage his back and shoulders while we talk. I stare at his big belly and his smooth skin and fat smooth tits and it always turns me on how much I changed him.

He and Simon are not getting along. Simon is Thomas’s breeder friend; they both work admin together; a few of the misfit breeders do that. At first, I thought it was the plump breeder I fucked with Felix but this is a different Simon. I don’t know Simon and if he has upset Thomas then I am not sure I want to meet him. Thomas and he were sharing a bed for a while bumping clits but Simon wants to ride the D and has found a bull he likes in the Western Campus. Thomas thinks there is trouble and they fell out because Simon wanted to do something that could have got both of them in trouble.

I ask about Simon and what he did, but Thomas says he can’t tell me. He wants to, but it concerns someone I know very well in the Academy here, and it would not be good for them. I asked if it was Angel and he said I was close. But it wasn’t Angel. No yenimahalle escort good would come from me knowing who it was. I don’t pry any further because that is not my way. I sense that, whatever it is, he will tell me if he really needs to.

Mason still hasn’t gone into the jerking room yet and after three days with no erections, there is a growing divide between the breeders who have not been to the jerking room and those that have.

As I pad around seeing people desperately fucking and making out I realize how quickly the academy turned from heaven on earth to hell.

It really couldn’t get any worse. I hope.

…..

I wake up, and I reach for my morning wood, nothing, not a thing. Only day 5, I guess. I squeeze my nuts, and they feel so fucking full. I had hoped for a bit of release by now but nothing and that dildo room seems more appealing. My entire life was one of easy pleasure, always just an erection away. Waking up with a boner was something I had done hundreds of times. I would get horny, have a wank, have a fuck, it was all so easy. Every once in a while I would get an unwanted boner in front of my mother or at school and I would will it away until I could fuck or take care of it, and now this. Soft, always soft, I would give anything for one more boner.

I walk to the shower and piss. My cock hangs between my legs limp and useless. As I soap it and my balls I feel the heft of my dick. The end of my cock is still sensitive, if anything more so than yesterday. I handle it with care. Even though it is useless, I am still the biggest guy in the room. Well, soft at least. I see a few guys with boners bigger than my soft dick and I feel envy.

I see a few of the other breeders and their clits and I look at my cock 6 inches soft and fat. I am still bigger than them, but at least they can get off. Even a clit seems preferable to what I have right now.

I watch as a few of the other guys join me. I see Brandon with his softy, William with his hard cock showing off. His hard cock is only as big as my useless soft cock. I see Mason drying himself off. I smile at him, but he doesn’t smile back. He will be off to the jerking room tomorrow we think. He simply nods. The mood is quiet these days. The boisterous noise and play fights the hearty laughter of the shower is no more. The noise of the water is the main noise. I lather my chest and the soap foams on my chest hair.

I wonder how long I will have hair on my chest and face. I feel my face as I think about my facial hair and decide I will shave later. I think back to yesterday and how Mason was told off for letting his facial hair become too long.

I look down at my dick again, let the water rinse off the last of the soap. I swing my hips my dick and balls slap around and I sigh. I see those around me looking at my dick. I smile to myself. Still got it Brett. I take more soap and work my legs and feet. My huge feet and strong legs, I was made to be a bull, I am big and strong not a weak dumb breeder.

I take some more soap and work my hairy ass crack and something is off. I run my fingers down between my ass cheeks and as I run my hand over my ass pucker I feel a strange pang of pleasure. My eyes dart open, and I run my hand and fingers back again the same feeling. I look around and nobody is watching me. I run my finger up and down my asshole and then do it again. My tiny ass pucker is sensitive and feels different. I let out a strange moan and stop. I lean against the wall of the shower.

I feel a strange wave of pleasure deep in my ass and my belly. I feel my sphincter open and close. My asshole opens and clenches shut and then again only faster and faster. I slowly stroke my asshole and it feels so good. My knees feel weak as the pleasure overwhelms me.

“No, please no,” I moan.

I am blooming. I can’t be, it is too soon. My ass feels like an invisible cock is fucking me and my hole opens and closes as the phantom dick pulls in and out. I think of Liam who fucked me with a real cock.

“Fuck yes.” I moan in pleasure. I feel the area and stop. It feels too good but worse than that is the strange pleasure that wafts around my body. The phantom fuck and the heat inside me.

I have seen boys bloom before, and I try to fight it but I can’t, my ass feels so empty and so fucking good and I slump onto the floor of the shower. I stroke the area around my butt hole and moan. “Noo!” But it does feel so good and soon I am stroking my butt cunt.

I have laid with Liam and let him fuck me and enjoyed it now how much better will my asshole feel. How many cocks will I take in it craving cock in my ass for this simple pleasure? My fingers trace the lips of my pulsing ass, and I feel a burst of pleasure erupt again and let out a deep guttural yell..

“Oh fuck,” I moan and it carries on, the contractions quicken and pulse my butt springs to life and I finger my hole as it opens and closes around one finger then two. The pleasure too much as I buck and thrust like Brick. I feel the small hole flush out. The ridges swell and pulse and I push in more of my fingers and fuck my aching butt cunt on my fingers. I thrust my fingers in and out, three, four of them into my slutty butt. I will leak and slime. I will leave fucking butt snot from my ass.

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Boundless Ch. 02

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Group Sex

Chapter 2: Something New

Rashad regained consciousness but didn’t immediately open his eyes. He could tell from the smell of sterility that he was in the Medical Facility. ‘What was that?’ He thought to himself, seeing the redhead, the blinding light and the…feelings. He had never experienced something like that ever in his life and he needed a moment to process it. He lay there for a few more minutes thinking and then decided it was time to leave.

He slowly opened his eyes and saw that he was in a private room with no windows and only a door. It was completely white but the lights were low. The room had a bed, which he was in, a couple of chairs, a small closet and a computer on a mobile platform. As he was slowly becoming adjusted to the light, the door opened and Anthony walked in.

“You’re finally awake. You have been out for about 6 hours. What happened? One minute you’re fine and the next you’re out cold.” Anthony said as he took one of the chairs, sat in it and leaned back against the wall. Rashad kicked his feet to the side of the bed and sat there noticing for the first time that he was wearing a gown, and apparently nothing else. He turned to Anthony.

“I don’t know. I was walking into the cafeteria behind you, felt this pull and turned to its source. I saw this girl standing there and when we made eye contact, Wham!” Raz said as he clapped loudly to emphasize his point. He looked at Anthony, who had a slight smile on his face and followed his statement quickly with; “It wasn’t love at first sight or anything. I don’t know what happened.”

Anthony raised his hands in mock surrender and leaned forward on the chair. “I didn’t say a thing.” He stood up and looked toward the door. “C’mon. Dinner is on and I brought you something back to the room so we don’t have a relapse of this afternoon.” Anthony said with a slight smile and headed toward the door.

Rashad stood and went to the closet. His clothing was there and as Anthony left the room, he put his clothing on. He expected to feel dizzy but he felt normal. They exited the Medical Facility and headed down the hill toward their dorm. When they got into their room Rashad could smell the pizza. He looked at Anthony with a questioning look.

“I made it while you were out. I thought you would like it since it is your first time falling in love.” Anthony said and started laughing. Rashad went to the pizza while rolling his eyes and began inspecting it. Anthony stopped laughing and looked at him with curiosity. “What are you doing?”

“Just making sure there isn’t any hair in it,” Rashad said and then started laughing. It was Anthony’s turn to roll his eyes as he and Rashad sat at the kitchen table and ate the pizza. While they ate they talked about the next day’s exercise and classes.

“What’s strange,” Anthony said while grabbing another slice, “was there was a girl that seemed to pass out at the same time you did.”

“Was she a red head?” Raz said with a slice halfway to his mouth.

“Yeah, but I’ve never seen her before,” Anthony said, took another bite of his pizza and then continued. “She passed out at the same time as you. I think she was in the room next to you at Medical.”

“Huh,” Raz murmured and then finished eating the slice he had in his hand.

——————–

Tessa awoke in the Medical Facility and took a look around her room. The room was exactly like the one Rashad yakacık escort had been in and she assumed she must be in the Medical Facility. She started to get out of bed and the door to the room opened. In walked a girl, seeming to be the same age as Tessa, who was curvy with full breasts that were barely contained by her clothing. She had a radiant smile with full white teeth. Her hair was a fiery red and looked like a rippling flame as she walked under the soft light.

“Hey, you’re awake. That’s good. You passed out in front of the cafeteria and the doctors here couldn’t figure out what happened.” The girl said and never stopped smiling. She stood in front of Tessa as if waiting for a response. Tessa looked at her with curiosity in her eyes.

“I…I am not sure what happened,” Tessa said with a slightly raspy voice. She realized that her throat was dry. She stood up and looked around the room. No sink. So she headed for the door. The new girl stepped into her path. Tessa looked up with a mixture of curiosity and indignation until the girl nodded her head at Tessa.

“I’m not sure where you’re going, but you might want to get dressed first.” She said and Tessa looked down at herself for the first time. She realized that she was wearing a hospital gown and that was it. Her face heated up with embarrassment and then she headed toward the lone closet in the room to retrieve her clothing.

After dressing Tessa walked into the hallway and saw a drinking fountain. She took a couple of sips to moisten her lips and throat and then turned to the girl who was standing there looking at her with the same smile on her face. “That’s better, now who are you?”

“How rude of me, my name is Trinity Dóiteáin, I’m your roommate.” She said with her hand extended toward Tessa. Tessa took the hand and shook it, Trinity had a firm but gentle handshake. Tessa finally returned the smile that she had been offered and felt a little more relaxed.

“It’s nice to meet you, Trinity.” She said as they let the handshake go. Trinity turned toward the exit and Tessa followed.

“Your stuff was already delivered to the room. I was on my way to meet you after your meeting and caught up with you right when you passed out.” Trinity said as she walked down the hill from Medical. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine. I really don’t remember what happened. I was just standing in front of the cafeteria and felt this…pull. I turned toward what I assumed was the source and…that’s the last thing I remember.” She said as they neared the Tier 1 dorm. Trinity led her into the left side of Traditions hall. They walked to the front door, unlocked it and walked in. The set up was the mirror of Anthony and Raz’s.

Trinity escorted Tessa to one of the bedrooms and as Tessa walked in she saw her suitcases sitting on the bed. Trinity shut Tessa’s door and went to her room. Tessa went to the bed, removed the suitcases by placing them at the foot of the bed and lay down.

She thought back to earlier when she had felt the pull of emotions. She had only seen the man’s face for a moment, but now it was etched in her mind. ‘Who was he? Why had this happened to her? Was it because she was an Evolution?’ These questions bounced around in her head as she lay there thinking of the day. After a few minutes she walked out of her room and sat down on a couch in the living room. A few minutes later Trinity came out of yakutiye escort the kitchen with 2 steaming cups. She handed one to Tessa and sat down on the love seat.

“The doctors at the Medical Facility were curious because there was a guy standing about 20 feet from you and he also passed out at the same time. In fact, he woke up about 5 minutes before you did.” Trinity said as she sipped her hot chocolate. Tessa was intrigued now.

“Did the doctors give the guy a clean bill of health?” She asked.

“As far as I know he is just fine. He is staying in this dorm as well, on the other side.” Trinity said. “Are you hungry? I know you didn’t eat lunch.”

Tessa’s stomach began to rumble and she realized that she was hungry. “Actually, yes I am.” She responded with a sheepish smile.

“Then let’s see what’s available in the kitchen.” Trinity said and headed toward the kitchen. She pulled out some chicken, onions, fresh mushrooms, green sweet peppers, carrots, garlic, olive oil, tomatoes and artichokes. While Trinity was in the kitchen and the aroma of the food she was preparing wafted out of the kitchen Tessa returned her thoughts to that afternoon and the man she saw.

She had only really caught a glimpse and to say that she saw what he looked like would be an exaggeration. She more or less, felt him. She had boyfriends before and had felt…love for them, but this was different. It was almost like she main lined the emotion in its purest form. If she was being honest with herself, she wanted more.

Trinity walked in breaking Tessa’s thoughts. “Dinner is served.” She said and then headed back into the kitchen. Tessa got up from the couch and headed into the dining area. On the table were 2 empty plates. Tessa sat down at 1 as Tessa brought over a bowl with angel hair pasta in it. She put a portion on each plate; she then placed a grilled chicken breast on the pasta. To top it off she drizzled a tomato vegetable sauce over the pair. The food smelled heavenly. While they ate the girls talked about life in the Complex and other light subjects.

After the meal the girls cleaned up and washed the dishes together. They continued talking while Tessa unpacked her stuff and organized her closet and dresser. Right before she went to bed she felt that rush of emotion she felt right before she passed out. As quickly as it came, it left. She closed her eyes and had the best dream she will never remember.

—–

The next afternoon after classes, Raz and Anthony were standing in the middle of the training field waiting for their instructor to meet them there. Like most afternoons, they were early. They usually get to the field, run the perimeter for about 20 minutes to warm up and then spar with each other. They had just finished their sparring match when Anthony started sniffing the air. Raz looked at him and waited to see what scent he had caught.

“She’s coming this way,” Anthony said when he turned to Raz smiling.

“Who is coming this way?” Raz asked as he looked around. He didn’t see anyone, but he did notice that the wind was coming from the direction of the cafeteria so that is where the scent of whoever would be coming from. Raz returned to stretching. After the match with Anthony, which he lost again, he liked to make sure he was loose in case he had to do some long distance sprinting.

He was getting faster. He had been clocked at 450 mph (724 yalova escort kph) last week. He was sure he could faster. His mind was also getting faster. He played speed chess with 10 different computers at the same time and won all but 2. It was a vast improvement from the previous month where he only won 2 out of the 10. As he was turning to Anthony to ask him a question, he saw her and then their eyes met. The world disappeared and she was all there was.

——————–

Tessa had gotten good sleep and woke before Trinity so she had gotten the shower first also. When she got out of the shower, with the towel wrapped around herself, she saw Trinity making her bed. When she was done Trinity went into the bathroom to get ready and Tessa laid out her uniform and got dressed. When Trinity was finished getting ready they grabbed a quick bite in the kitchen and then headed to their first classes. After classes they headed to the cafeteria for lunch.

This time in the cafeteria it was almost completely full of students. They got their food and headed to a table with 3 girls and boys. When they saw Trinity coming they smiled and waved her over. Trinity headed their direction with Tessa in tow. She introduced Tessa to them but she wasn’t really paying attention. She had this, pull, which was taking her mind from the present. Something was making her want to go outside, but she didn’t know what it was. She quickly ate her lunch so she could find out what was going on.

When she was done she got up without really paying attention to Trinity and dumped her tray, then headed out the door heading toward the Training field. As she drew closer to the field, the pull became stronger. When she got closer to the field she saw to students standing there. The pull was impossible to ignore now. She saw that one of them, the shorter one, was covered in dark hair and the taller, darker, one glanced over at her, and then she knew the source of the pull.

Mindlessly she started walking toward him, and he to her. When they were closer he gently took her face in his hands, and without hesitation, kissed her. Suddenly there was an instant connection. In a blink of an eye, she knew everything about Rashad. She saw the painful memories of being picked on for being different. Seeing his humanity slowly being eaten away by his power and the loneliness it used to bring. Seeing the level he depended on Anthony for a human connection. Seeing that Raz and Tessa were made for each other and there would be no one else. Knowing that he is hers and she is his and that was that. Feeling loved and at peace, emotions main lined.

——————–

When their lips met he felt human again. He hadn’t felt truly human since he was 5. He felt love for this woman who would always be there for him and tether him to his humanity. To a level that Anthony couldn’t. That he would always protect her and they would never be alone no matter the distance from each other. He could feel her in his soul as well as hear her in his mind.

He also knew that she was an Evolution. Her abilities were Telepathy and Aerokinesis. He also knew like he and Anthony she had a drawback, him. He became her drawback when they kissed. If anything happened to him her powers would reach a near catastrophic level and she wouldn’t be able to control it.

As their lips separated and the rest of the world came back, he could hear her in his mind. ‘Raz’ she said. ‘Can you hear me?’

‘Yes.’ He replied without saying a word. He smiled and so did she.

‘We need to talk’ she said and he nodded. Without looking back at Anthony, Raz scooped Tessa up and raced with her up and over the fence and straight to the fields.

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Bloorp’s Diary

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Boobs

Transdimensional flux accident sucks. One minute I was safe and comfortable in my home nest, surrounded by my friends and relatives, and bah, I’m in this harsh, unfamiliar place. I just hope my tribespeople weren’t affected. My body seems fine, though: still a dozen tentacles and four eyestalks. I could regenerate if damaged, of course, but that doesn’t mean I’d like to.

Everything around me looks so weird. The air smells funny, too. Well, at least it’s breathable. But it’s too dry. And I don’t like the brightness of the rising sun. It seems it will be too hot soon.

I’m surrounded by stone and concrete. The rocks around me look too regular, so they must be artificial.

I find a… gap?… in the ground. It’s covered by some kind of grating – another sign of sentient life here – but I manage to remove it and squeeze in. It’s cooler and wetter here, it’s better. Although the smell is worse.

***

A day has passed, according to the light from the grates above. I’m exploring the system of underground tunnels I’ve found myself in. Some tunnels are smaller, some are larger, some are blocked by other grates. Some have strange artificial constructions – metal pipes, wires, lights on the ceilings, things that emit water. There are also places where the walls are lined with artificial materials, and places with no lining at all. The temperature is stable now, which is good.

I met little furry animals that live down here. They were trying to nibble at me. They turned out to be edible, though not too tasty.

I have to look at things above ground. It seems the locals don’t live in the tunnels.

***

I spent a day carefully sticking one or two eyestalks through various grates above and peering around. According to my observations, the local biota consists of several types of creatures. There are smaller or larger furry ones, all four-legged; and a lot of bipedal creatures (bipedalism! weird!) – there are quite a few of them, and they all seem to wear artificial coverings on their bodies. They come in slightly different shapes, sizes, and colors, but I can’t yet figure out which differences are substantial and which are irrelevant. They smell quite pleasant.

***

I crave tactile contact more and more, especially with my tentacles. I have never been aware of how important the constant exchange of touch, pressure and tentacle rubbing is that we all have at home all the time. I miss it so much. I have tried cuddling with small furry tunnel creatures, but it is not enough, not nearly enough. Their skin is much too coarse and rough.

The natives seem to touch each other sometimes, but very rarely and briefly. Can I find a way to touch them? I must make contact.

***

I can read the minds of the natives, although I do not understand them yet, but I hope to learn. Strangely enough, they don’t use mind-reading themselves, they communicate with sounds, like our singing. Well, maybe I could learn to sing like them.

I also noticed that they don’t eat each other. Or maybe those who do just don’t show it in public.

I wonder what they eat. I must investigate further.

***

I found where they eat. There are many places in the ‘city’, they are called ‘restaurants’, ‘cafeteria’, ‘pizzeria’ and a dozen other names. I’m learning their language fast, but I still can’t figure out the subtle differences.

Anyway, I discovered that in the evening they throw a lot of perfectly good food into containers in the backyards behind the restaurants. I do not understand this custom. But now I have as much delicious food as I can eat.

***

I had a tactile contact!

I had just eaten and was resting for a while on an empty night street when I noticed a lone human being. He was lying on the pavement, making irregular movements and noises, and emitting a strong smell of local beverages – I’ve tasted some of them, but didn’t like them.

Anyway, I approached and carefully examined the human body with my probing tentacles. The human did not seem to mind or even understand who I was. Its skin felt surprisingly comfortable. So smooth, soft, silky, elastic – I cannot describe it with words, but oh, it was such an amazing experience after so many days of loneliness! I touched it more and then, unable to control myself, I wrapped my tentacles around the human body under its artificial clothing and hugged it tightly.

Oh yes, that was what I so desperately needed! Tentacles around the soft, warm body, a friend to touch! I squeezed hard, massaged, rubbed and kneaded, releasing all my frustration. I found another opening in addition to his mouth and after a minute’s thought, I pushed two of my tentacles deep inside and began to rub. So good! Almost the same feeling I had with my relatives!

The human made a few convulsive jerks and gurgles. After a few minutes it opened his eyes wide and started to moan. Oh, I forgot that they communicate with sounds from their mouths. Well, the sounds seemed happy, so everything was okay, right? I cuddled it more and more until the human released a strong stream of clear viranşehir escort liquid and passed out. I tasted the fluid – nothing special – then let it go and hid in the darkness.

It was wonderful! Now I know they are a friendly species, and I have a nice acquaintance. Hopefully my new friend will want to repeat the experience.

I’m trying to find more humans to meet.

***

I made several more tactile contacts. It’s hard to meet someone outside at night, but not impossible.

I discovered that humans come in two configurations, one with two lower orifices and another with one orifice and one short tentacle. I’m confused. Why the difference? But maybe they rub their tentacles through the orifices just like we do, just not as often. I’m on the right track.

However, I feel that humans get uncomfortable when I rub their orifices. They usually try to resist and run away. I can easily overpower them – they’re rather weak and clumsy – but I don’t want to scare them off, I need to make friends. Maybe I should try rubbing them more gently?

I’ve been thinking about finding a human partner – or preferably four or six at a time – who would let me cuddle them daily. I think I could offer something in return. I’m learning their language well and discovering the medical secrets of the human body. They can’t regenerate or fight diseases as effectively as I can. I could help them with that.

***

I’ve found a human garment, almost new, they call it a cloak. If I curl up in a certain way and pull the cloak over me, I could resemble a human from a distance and at night. At close range, of course, the disguise won’t work at all. Would they fear me less if I looked like a human?

I’ve been practicing bipedal walking. It’s difficult, but it’s possible, though it makes me even slower and clumsier than a human. But I’m confident that I could soon approach them if I learn their language better.

I can also stand the daily sunlight when covered. This increases my mobility.

Now I must find suitable candidates and approach them.

***

A promising direction!

There is a river on the other side of the city, and the people often swim in it and lie around with almost no clothes on. Sometimes they stay there at night, practicing close tactile contact and rubbing. It seemed like the perfect opportunity!

I prepared myself thoroughly and swam in the river. By the way, I found out that people do not like the smell of underground tunnels where I live, they call them “sewers”. Maybe that’s why they ran away from me? I did my best to wash the smell out of me.

At first I hid in the bushes, observing the humans behavior. They were sitting and lying near the shore, in groups, hugging, kissing, licking and rubbing. A male human crawled up to a female human and thrust his tentacle into her orifice – eeep! – she moaned and spread her legs wider. He went in and out, faster and faster, she writhed, panting and begging him to continue. Then he jerked twice hard and stopped, removed the tentacle from the orifice and lay down.

I made mental notes. It seems I am doing this more than perfectly, I just need to approach them gently and gradually so as not to scare them away.

Then another male crawled up to the same female and stuck his tentacle into her second orifice! She moaned louder and spread her legs even wider. Another interesting note.

Then they exchanged hugs and kisses and went home.

So exciting! Tomorrow I’ll have a go at the approach.

***

Tomorrow came today. I gave up the idea of pretending to be a human – it won’t work anyway. They have to accept me as I am.

So I waited in the bushes late in the evening and found a group of four females who had set up a tent and were obviously going to sleep near the river. They were pleasantly drunk and laughing together. Maybe they won’t run away from me right away.

I approached at a safe distance and called out to them: “Hello? Can I talk to you for a minute?” It seems I’ve mastered their audio communication well enough…

They stopped chattering and looked at me, alarmed but not too frightened yet.

“W-what is th-that?” one of them asked in a trembling voice.

“D-do you see it too?” asked another.

“W-who are you? What do you want?” said the third. Hurray! She communicates with me!

“My name is Bloorp.” I replied. “I am… I am the victim of a transdimensional accident. I am… alien, as you can see.”

“Please do not be afraid,” I added quickly. “I am harmless. I need your help.”

They were silent and looked at me with big eyes. I sensed in their minds that they were very confused, but more curious than afraid. They murmured to each other and then turned to me.

“What kind of help do you need?” the fourth one finally asked.

“Oh, thank you! I…” How could I explain this? “You see, where I come from there are thousands of us. We are always touching each other, lying on top of each other, and rubbing our tentacles. It is very important for our kind. Ever since I came vize escort to your world, I have missed it so much. I really, really need close tactile contact!”

They fell silent again, murmuring softly.

“And what, let me guess… you… want to rub… tentacles with us?!” one asked.

“Oh, please, I would give anything for that!”

They fell silent, then burst into hysterical laughter.

“A… A real tentacle monster!” one of them exclaimed.

“I can’t believe it!” giggled another.

A tentacle monster? I tried to picture it in their minds. Wow. They have dedicated a considerable part of their culture to creatures like me! Maybe that would make things easier.

“You can call me that, yes,” I agreed. “Although I am not a monster. I consider myself quire pretty.”

They laughed even louder.

“Okay, Bloorp, whatever your name is,” the third one finally said. “Come closer to us. Let’s talk about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. Come closer.”

I hesitated for a moment, then slowly crept closer. They looked at me curiously and excitedly.

“Wow, it’s bigger than in the pictures!” exclaimed another. “So many tentacles! Can I touch them?”

“Sure, please!”

She reached out a hand and stroked me gently.

“It’s pleasant to touch…” She squealed and jumped when I wrapped my tentacle around her wrist, but quickly composed herself and squeezed my tentacle with her palm. Ohhh… So pleasant…

“It’s nice!” she exclaimed. “Try touching it, girls!”

And they tried. They caressed me, stroked me, squeezed the tentacle tips and pulled them gently. So nice!..

“How do you like that?” I asked. “Are you ready to cuddle longer?”

“Why not?” one of them laughed. “We wanted to spend the night here anyway. Come closer!”

I crept closer and wrapped a few tentacles around their wrists and arms, and they laughed.

“Bloorp is ticklish!” one exclaimed.

“It’s so… rubbery!”

“Ahhh…” another gasped as I removed her bikini.

“Ooooh… You like breasts, Bloorp?” the next one giggled.

I stroked her breasts and nipples, and she moaned loudly.

“Oooh… Ahhhhh!.. Yes… Ooooh…”

“Let’s get rid of the clothes,” another suggested. “No point in keeping them on…”

They stood up and took off their bikinis and beach robes, giggling. Humans are so delicate!..

“Lie on top of me, Bloorp, wrap your tentacles around me,” the third offered.

“No, you’d better all lie on top of me,” I suggested. I spread out on the ground, tentacles wide, and all four of them cuddled up to me. I wrapped them all in my tentacles and pressed them closer to me. Ohhh… It’s just like home… My tentacles were itching to rub.

“Rub me! Hug me tighter!” I begged them.

“Oooh… Bloorp is so eager…”

“Their tentacles everywhere!”

“Touching you?.. Where?…”

“Everywhere!” I pleaded. “Press hard, rub tentacles against your skin, knead me, massage me!”

They giggled and tried to do as I said. They pressed against me and moved their limbs along mine, squeezing and stroking. And it was not long before my tentacles slipped into their orifices. Twelve tentacles, four females, three orifices per female. A perfect match.

They gasped and twitched in surprise as the tentacles slid deeper, but quickly relaxed and sighed blissfully. With their mouths occupied, all they could do was moan, but I took their minds.

“Ooh… Bloorp’s tentacles inside me… I never imagined before…”

“Mine are stretching my pussy and ass… Ooooh…”

“So smooth, so flexible…”

“Oooh… So soft… It moves inside me, rubbing and pressing…”

“So deep… Deeper, please… Faster…”

They pressed harder against me, relaxing and panting. I began to knead them with my tentacles, pressing and releasing rhythmically, rubbing deeper and faster. It’s wonderful how deep I can crawl inside people when they cooperate!

“Ooooh… Bloorp is moving inside me…”

“Press me harder! Rub me harder!.. Deeper!.. Ahhh…”

I massaged the humans with my tentacles, pressing, kneading and rubbing, faster and faster. They writhed in pleasure, moaning and begging me to continue, and I gladly obeyed.

“Oh, Bloorp, don’t stop! Don’t stop! Ooooh!.. Squeeze me! Rub me!..”

I was also at the height of my pleasure. I finally got all the tactile contact I needed so much! I did not want to stop and they did not want to stop either. Then one, then another shook and moaned loudly in an increasingly powerful orgasm. Then the last one arched her back and screamed almost in pain.

“Oooh Bloorp!.. You’re driving me crazy!.. Ooooh!.. I come!.. Cumming!.. OOOH!”

Her mind exploded in ecstatic waves. I shuddered and shook in response, wrapping the humans in tentacles.

Eventually they all finished and collapsed on top of me, panting. I released their orifices and nuzzled them tenderly.

“Was it good for you?” I asked.

“Ohhh…”

“So good…”

“I’ve never had it so good…”

“Thank you, thank you…”

” May yahşihan escort I have one more question?” I asked her.

“What is it?”

“As you have probably already guessed, I need this tactile contact daily,” I said. “Preferably several times a day, but at least once a day… Could we do it together every day?”

They looked at each other.

“Hmm… Sounds reasonable…” said one.

“I could do it every day!” giggled the second.

“But what do we tell the others?” asked the third. “They would definitely freak out if they saw Bloorp…”

“They could hide somewhere in our room.”

“Sounds great!” I exclaimed. “Are… are you living together?”

“Yes. We are roommates.”

“Yeah, we could do that…”

“Ok, Bloorp, we agree,” said the third.

“Wow!” I hugged them all at once.

Then we slept together, then we had another tactile contact in the morning.

***

I have been living with the four women for two weeks. I’ve learned that their names are Hannah, Jenny, Cindy and Laura. I know that they somehow distinguish each other by looks, but I still can’t, especially since they like to change their clothes, face paint and hair color often. I can distinguish them by smell and taste.

Every day we hug, cuddle, kiss and rub. It’s heaven! I am so happy!

Yesterday they introduced me to another human female – their friend Megan. She was a little freaked out at first, but after I talked to her, she agreed to cuddle me too. She will be visiting us from time to time.

They showed me some pictures from their culture dedicated to tentacled creatures like me. Some of the ones with tentacles are so pretty! I’ve also got some new ideas about how to rub.

***

It turned out that the girls also had their male partners, “boyfriends”. Carefully, one by one, they introduced us to each other. The guys freaked out at first (as expected), then calmed down and agreed to cuddle me and even join in our group rubbing.

Now I have so many partners! We rub, hug and cuddle. It’s wonderful!

***

The girls are sick. The usual flu, they say. They lie hot, weak and unhappy. They cough and expel slime from their upper orifices. They have trouble breathing.

“I could help,” I said. “It might feel weird, though…”

“Help?… Weird?… What are you going to do?”

“Healing,” I explained. “I can fight diseases. Will you let me try?”

They shrugged weakly. “Okay. Whatever helps…”

I crawled under the covers with them, curling tentacles around their bodies, sliding tentacles into their orifices and thin tendrils into their nostrils, taking samples. They sighed.

“Bloorp’s tentacles everywhere… So comforting…”

I synthesized the immune response liquid – it was easy, human diseases are so weak and simple – and poured it through my tentacles into their mouths.

“Eww, what is that?! It tastes awful!”

“Drink it, please. It will heal you soon.”

They sighed and drank. After a while, I withdrew the tentacles, leaving healing fluids inside.

“Sleep now. You’ll be fine tomorrow.”

The next day they felt great and healthy again.

“You healed us!.. Unbelievable…”

“So fast!”

“You’re welcome,” I would grin if I had human facial expressions, but instead I just waved my eyestalks. “I can cure worse conditions.”

“Like what?”

I remembered the collection of pictures they had. “Like blindness? Or paralysis? Or severed limbs? You know, our kind recovers and regenerates from almost anything. Your human bodies can’t do that on their own, but I can help.”

They looked at me suspiciously. “Really?… Wow…”

“We’ll keep that in mind.”

And we started cuddling and rubbing, making up for what we missed yesterday, until the girls almost passed out from orgasmic overload.

***

Today I had a nap in our apartment. The girls went to work after our usual morning cuddle, and I had nothing to do. Then I heard the lock scratching and the door opened. Two unknown males came in, thinking about taking valuable things.

I already know that it is against human customs to take other people’s valuables without the owner’s consent, so I tucked my tentacles in and began to watch closely. I look like a rather inconspicuous bag with my tentacles and eyestalks hidden.

They noticed me in the corner and approached.

“Hey, what is this bag? Looks expensive. Might have something valuable in it.”

“Check it out.”

One grabbed my body with both hands and lifted it. Eee!.. Not the kind of tactile contact I like, not at all. But if I can help it… I released my tentacles and grabbed them both, wrapping their limps and bodies tightly and pulling them closer. They flinched, but could not free themselves.

“W-what is it?!!”

“A bag ate us!.. Let go!.. Let go!..”

But of course they can do nothing. I rubbed them against me with all my tentacles and rolled on the ground, kneeling and rubbing them. I’ve seen small house furries do this, and they also rattle when they do it. I tried to rattle too.

“Eee!.. W-what is it doing?… Stop it!.. Stop it!..”

“S-so slimy!.. I’m choking!.. H-help!..”

I removed their clothes (ripping some, I’m afraid), then squeezed harder and rubbed harder, filling their orifices with tentacles, deeper and deeper. Ohhh. Much better…

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Blasphemia II: Deus Vult Pt. 05

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Bdsm

Here, beneath the Earth so old.

In this pit we call our home.

Down in this frozen deep.

Toiling ever ’til we sleep.

Even though the succubus was singing under her breath, Judith found a flush creeping along her neck at the sound of Filia’s singing voice. It was smokey and deep, resonating with an otherworldly thrum. Did succubi have powers of seduction via singing? Or was it just because it was Filia? She didn’t know, but pondering it was enough to keep her distracted. It kept her grounded on the floor of the cavern, rather than pacing as she had as Luca’s scanning stretched on and on.

The scholar was sitting by the hole Filia had made in the cave wall, sitting cross-legged with his back straight. His eyes were closed and his arm tattoos glowed with faint iridescent light. He’d been poised as such for the better part of an hour. Judith had been repeatedly tempted to ask him what progress was being made, but held back out of fear it would break his trance and ruin his efforts. All she could do was watch and wait, and keep her eyes peeled for any impending threats that might take notice of them.

However, the world outside had gone eerily quiet, save for the gentle whisper of the wind along the rocks outside. Judith found herself craving the sounds of Rome that had existed before – the clatter of old cars along the cobblestone roads, bakers speaking in rapid-fire Italian with the farmers bringing them fresh produce, the toll of church bells pealing out across the city. Now, there was just the wind, and whatever strange dirge Filia was singing under her breath.

The succubus rose from her sitting position and stretched, canting her upper body to the side and making a small mewling noise as she did. She padded over to Judith’s side and sat down. Judith shuffled aside a few feet to ensure there was no chance of bodily contact.

“So,” Filia began.

Oh dear, Judith thought.

“Think he’s packing?”

Luca gave no indication that he’d heard the scandalous remark. “I’ve no interest in finding out,” Judith said. “And I’ll make damn sure you never do so either.”

Filia smirked and leaned in close to Judith’s ear. “Liar,” she whispered.

Judith’s fingers tightened on Celerity’s hilt. “Tread lightly.”

“See, the fact that I keep getting a rise out of you means I’m just going to keep on teasing you,” Filia murmured. Her nose touched the side of Judith’s cheek, warm spreading from the contact. “Because we both know how much you like to be teased.”

The succubus’s fingers slid up Judith’s thigh, and the skin underneath her armor broke out in goosebumps. Judith shifted slightly, trying to cinch her body in a way that clamped down on the smoldering heat flickering to life in her groin. “I swear, killing you will be the most satisfying thing I will ever do,” she growled.

“Nothing so reveals the nature of a relationship like the promise of sex and/or violence,” Filia said. Her fingers went higher, tracing a line up Judith’s body to grope her breast. “Even better if you do both at the same time.”

Judith panted slightly and squirmed, desperate to not make noise and throw off Luca’s concentration. Was Filia just blithely ignoring the urgency of their current situation? Or was this just another one of her games? “How would that even work?” Judith hissed.

“Ever seen Hellraiser?” Filia’s grin was wicked.

“No?”

“Oh. Well, it’s like that, but less extreme. Also now that I really think about it I don’t think you’d be into that level of nasty. Nico is sometimes, but only because he can regenerate quickly.”

“Just what kind of deranged sex act are you even talking about?”

Filia sighed. “After this, we’re having a movie night. You, me, some snacks, big comfy couch that we can fuck on during the boring parts of some of the essentials.” She nuzzled Judith’s cheek, then kissed her lightly. “Sound good?”

It was as if they were two young paramours stealing tiny moments together and not sworn enemies! Judith set her jaw and shoved Filia away roughly, pouncing on her with Celerity in hand. She had to stop herself from sawing Filia’s head off then and there – even then, her sword bit into the line of the succubi’s throat, drawing blood. “I’ve had enough of your games!” she roared. At what point was Filia going to understand that they were destined to be enemies, so she should stop with the playacting?

As always, the succubus was unfazed by anything. “So that’s a no on the movies then?”

Filia roared and stabbed down with Celerity. The blade sheared off a lock of Filia’s gossamer hair on it’s way down. With all of Judith’s inhuman strength behind it, the blade penetrated half a foot into solid rock. Judith was panting in rage, glaring down at Filia, hoping to impress some of the pure loathing she felt with her gaze alone.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Filia smirked, casually reaching up to brush some of Judith’s hair aside. “Also uzunköprü escort keep going, this is turning me on something fierce.”

A cough made both of them turn their heads. Luca was on his knees, looking at the both of them bewildered. “Uh… I found His Holiness.”

Filia sighed. “Just as the mood was getting right. Ah well.” SHe licked her lips. “Unless… quickie?”

Judith scrambled off Filia, ripping Celerity out of the stone. “No,” she growled. “Where are we going, Luca? And why did it take so long?”

“There’s a lot of different energies in the air,” Luca said, eyes flicking between her and Filia. “Concentrations of faith being blown about like clusters of sand in a desert. Sometimes there, sometimes gone. I had to keep poking around until I found one that stayed constant for an extended period of time. If it’s not His Holiness, it’s at least bound to be someone who might be able to help us.”

“Where?”

Luca pointed at the floor. “Down.”

Filia made a face. “Towards the eye?”

“Close to it.” Luca got up and peered out through the hole in the cavern wall. A moment later, he pointed.

Judith followed his finger. Below them floated a structure that looked like something plucked from the mind of M. C. Escher. Several single story buildings had been mashed together into a tall skyscraper, with more affixed to the sides at perpendicular angles. It spun on no set axis, simply twisting this way and that, as if it were a brick and mortar Rubik’s cube being toyed with by the hands of an invisible titan.

“Gah, just looking at that makes me sick,” FIlia said. “What wonderful nightmares are we going to find in this one, I wonder?”

“We’ll find out when we get there,” Judith said, jamming her sword back in its sheath. “Filia, you’re strong enough to fly us both down there, correct?”

The succubus shook out her wings. “We won’t exactly be a Lockheed Blackbird, but yeah, I can do it.”

“You know what a Blackbird is?” Luca asked, sounding surprised.

Judith blinked. “You know what that is?”

“Hell doesn’t exist in limbo, library boy,” Filia said with a sulty wink. “I keep dropping references hoping Judith will pick up on any of them but she’s sadly out of touch.”

“LIke I would ever watch a movie called ‘Hellraiser,'” Judith snorted.

“It’s… not that bad,” Luca said, with a sheepish cant of his head.

Filia laughed so loudly that Judith was worried every eldritch creature within a league could hear it. “Judith, you have some serious competition here! Hahahaha!”

Luca blinked, his eyes flicking back and forth between them again. “Am I… missing something here?”

Judith made a frustrated noise akin to a caged bear on amphetamines and stomped over to FIlia. She grabbed the giggling succubus by the wrist, then took Filia’s hand and closed the fingers around Luca’s wrist. “We’re going now,” she said, tugging them towards the hole in the wall.

“Wait, what?” Luca managed.

Judith heaved with all her strength, pulling them all out into space. Luca screamed in terror as he plummeted into open air, the three of them tumbling end over end for several heart-stopping moments. Then a strong hand grabbed Judith’s collar. “Nine rings, you’re a real cunt sometimes,” Filia said, still sounding giggly. She swooped low, grabbing hold of a flailing Luca by the collar. Her wings flared wide to slow their rapid descent.

Luca reached up and grabbed hold of Filia’s wrist, his grip white-knuckled. “Are you mad?” he yelled at Judith.

“Furious,” Judith snapped back.

“She’s just going through a rough time, cut her some slack,” Filia said, adjusting her wings into an easy glide down towards their new destination. “Her home’s been turned into an eldritch nightmare, she can’t make up her mind about how she feels about me, and she’s also wrestling with her perfectly reasonable desire to get into your pants.” She shrugged. “Normal girl stuff, really.”

Judith made a strangled noise and spluttered. “I am not!”

“Your indignance says otherwise!” Filia said in a singsong voice.

Luca had gone beet red, turning his head to the side. The expression was adorable, but thinking that made Judith want to kick herself. They were both sworn to celibacy, and though her promise lay in tatters, she was sure that a demure individual such as he had never lain with another. Shame prickled her skin as she thought of such things.

The building loomed large in their vision as they drew close. “Okay, question,” FIlia said. “How do we land on or in this thing?”

“Find an aperture and go for it?” Luca offered.

“Works for me!” FIlia chriped. She tucked her wings in, making all of them drop like stones again. The building was still shifting rapidly, and Judith clenched her teeth hard enough she feared they might shatter. There was no pattern to the building’s movements, and they could easily wind up pasted against van escort a wall.

“Gotcha,” Filia said, aiming for an archway. A moment later, it spun out of reach. “Fuck!” The succubus twisted around at the last possible second, eating the impact of their collision with the building entirely on her back. Over the rush of the wind Judith heard something snap followed by a hiss of agony from Filia.

The building moved again, rolling them onto an unsecured front door that opened under their combined weight. Judith cursed as they fell further into the structure. Something hard jolted them again, this time stopping their momentum.

“Fuck that hurts,” Filia hissed, shoving them off her and rolling onto her stomach. Judith’s stomach turned at the sight of the shattered pieces of several of the succubi’s vertebrae sticking out of her back.

“God in Heaven, are you okay?” Luca asked, concern etched across his features. Judith did a double take. Did he not remember what she was?

Filia grit her teeth, and the bits of bone began to slid back inside her body. “No, but I’ll live,” she gasped, her nails carving furrows in the wooden wall underneath them. “I’m a tough bitch.”

Judith got to her feet, drawing Celerity and projecting a little power into it to light the blade. They were in a small apartment of some kind, the furnishings within shattered by the jerky movements of the ersatz building. At that moment they weren’t on the floor, rather on one of the walls, owing to the apartment building being at an odd angle.

The floor shifted underneath them, and all of them went still. “Oh, don’t tell me,” Filia panted, hanging her head. Her hair flowed down around her face like a funeral veil.

Then the structure jerked, flipping over in a second. Judith’s body seized up for a moment in shock at the transition. Then she realized she was poised right above the door. A moment later, it slammed into her back, then gave way under the impact. Her hand shot out and grabbed the door frame. Burning pain flared in her shoulder at the sudden stop, leaving her hanging out over open space hanging by only her fingers. She looked down at the ground far below, with the phantom image of the massive eye superimposed over it. No amount of Nephilim resistance would help her survive a fall like that.

“Judith!” She looked up. Luca had grabbed hold of another nearby doorframe to keep himself from falling as well. His other hand was firmly clasped between Filia’s hands, the succubus kicking wildly as her body dangled in open air. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better!” Judith replied. She began to heave herself back into the apartment.

The building shuddered again, then rotated rapidly ninety degrees upward. Judith was tossed forward, rolling over and over across the floor of the apartment – the actual floor this time – towards the back room that Luca was holding onto the entrance of. “Son of a-” she coughed out as she stopped rolling.

Luca scrambled into the room, dragging Filia behind him. He shut the door behind him, and not a moment too soon. The building lurched backwards ninety degrees, making them all fall into the wall again. Judith covered her face as the remnants of a bedside table clattered around her, one of the legs cracking her on the wrist and sending a stinging pain up her forearm. She took several deep breaths, forcing air into her battered lungs. “Good move,” she panted, tapping the door.

“I’m never going to an amusement park ever again,” FIlia groaned, rolling over so her back could finish healing. “I’ve had enough jumping through magic portals and getting tossed around to last a lifetime, thank you.”

“How are we supposed to get to the center of this mess?” Luca asked.

“Is that where the faith you detect is coming from?” Judith asked. Luca nodded. “We should take it room by room. Advance slowly and carefully, that way we can-“

“Boring,” Filia drawled as her back rippled and healed fully. She rolled back over, popping her neck with a jerk of her head. A red sigil appeared around her body on the wall underneath them. Hellish energies colored Filia’s eyes as she raised an arm. “We’re taking the direct route.”

Judith cursed and rolled over on top of Luca just as FIlia let rip with a column of hellfire from her arm. It lanced up, hit the wall opposite them, and kept going, punching through barrier after barrier. The heat was intense, causing sweat to bead on Judith’s shoulders.

Filia kept the stream going for a long while, until tapering it off with a hissing noise like water on charcoal. Her face was smug as she looked up at her handiwork. “Clean breaks, all the way through. Go me.”

Judith scowled, pushing down to lift herself up off Luca. The casual motion made their bodies brush together for a few moments, and she went still at the electric current that sparked through them. It was the same thing she felt whenever Filia touched her. Her gaze snapped varto escort to Luca. The scholar was looking up at her, his gold eyes questioning. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

Judith’s fingers curled into fists. “No,” she lied, slowly peeling herself away from him. “Nothing at all.”

Damn you Filia! WHy are you right about everything? How is it that you know me better than I know myself? How am I this weak? Judith wanted to scream her frustrations to the Heavens, beseech the Lord and beg forgiveness for her transgressions. Despite her vows, her body kept betraying her, first with Filia, now with Luca. It was maddening.

“Uh-oh,” Filia said.

Judith looked up at the hole Filia had made in the wall – rather, the ceiling. The edges of the wood still smoldered from the column of hellfire. Peering over the edge of one of the floors further up was a verde zombie. It let out a raspy, creaking groan. Then another joined it. Another appeared further up, followed by another, and another, until there were almost twenty looking down at them with dead, glassy eyes.

“Luca,” Judith said. “Find some cover.”

Then one of the verdes screeched and leaped down at them like a pouncing jaguar. Filia whipped her arm around, a chain slicing the thing in half down the middle and reducing it to ash. A moment later, the rest of the verdes followed.

Judith surged up, drawing her sword and cleaving a verde in two with one fluid motion. Celerity sang through the air, felling two more before a verde tackled her to the ground. A moment later, one of Filia’s hellfire chains pierced the back of it’s skull, the bladed end jutting our through it’s gaping maw. “Keep your green mitts off my woman,” Filia snapped, yanking back with all her strength. The pull yanked the verde off Judith and into another, slamming both into the wall.

Judith slashed at the ankles of another verde near her, slicing its head off as it went down gurgling in confusion. She grabbed another by the neck, focusing her faith into her palm in a Consecration. A moment later, the verde’s head burst like an overripe melon, unable to take the searing power concentrated at Judith’s will.

“Judith!” Her head snapped towards Luca’s voice. The scholar was backed into a corner, looking for an escape from two massive verdes looming over him. “Help!”

“Begone, foul creatures!” Judith bellowed, rushing the pair. The two’s heads turned towards her, their eyes glassy and dull save for pinpricks of green light in each. Judith’s first stab speared one through the middle, severing it’s spine and turning it into deadweight. She ripped Celerity free in a plume of gore, spinning and beheading the other with a powerful two-handed swing. At the end of the follow-through, she reversed her momentum and did the same to the first. Another lurched forth and met the same end, then another. Putrid green-black gore splattered on Judith’s armor, the pungent smell making her nose burn and her eyes water.

A loud banging noise came from a nearby wall, and a moment later another group of verdes crashed through, their combined weight bringing down the surface weakened by furniture smashing into it. Judith let out an animal roar and waded into the group, holding Celerity with two hands like an axe as she swung and cleaved. The verdes’ weak flesh parted like wet paper before her mighty swings, and any she didn’t behead immediately she finished off with stabs, blasts of holy magic, or smashing their heads underneath the soles of her boots. She let the fevered pitch of battle overtake her, rending flesh and crushing bone in her righteous fury.

As the last fiend fell, she spun around, looking for another thing to kill. Gore caked her armor and skin, the disgusting flesh growing clammy as it dried. She reached up to brush her hair away from her face, and found it slick too. Her heart thundered in her ears as she bellowed, “Is there anyone else?”

“I think you got them all, Judith,” Filia said, gingerly stepping over a dead verde.

“Remind me to never raise your ire,” Luca piped up from the corner where he’d been taking cover.

Judith spat on the floor. “Let’s get a move on.” She took a step, then stopped. “The building isn’t moving any more.”

Filia looked around the room. “Huh. You’re right. Maybe I hit something vital.”

“You think this building is alive?” Luca asked.

“Buddy, have you seen what’s been living and moving the past few hours?” Filia said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “The giant living flesh tower?”

Luca made a face. “Good point.”

Judith scowled at the two of them being chummy. “Let’s keep going.”

Filia moved under the hole she’d made and shook out a length of shadow chain. She whipped it up and around, driving the point into a wall. She gave it a tug to make sure it was secure. “Hope you lift, librarian,” Filia said, eyeing Luca’s arms. “I’m assuming you do, of course.”

Luca wrapped his hands around the chain, then slowly heaved himself up hand over hand. “I had to train my body somewhat.”

Both Filia and Judith watched him shimmy up the chain. “Complete package, that one,” Filia remarked. “Soft-spoken, considerate, brawny, probably hung like a-“

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Bitch Devourer Ch. 02

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Anal

Author’s Note: First actual hardcore story! It is still sad tho, as is my wont. If you like it for more than just the smuttiness (tho pls enjoy it for that, esp my trans girlies) I’ve got a little sequel/spin-off called Blood Sugar you can find on Cohost via my profile. Unlikely to end up here, it is just the sad lol.

CW: drug not one that is less affecting, nor one safer. There’s just more fucking moll — a bit less each time, till there’s none.)

“Livestock tried to runaway again — don’t you want to fuck it, back into its place, Sir?”

Niamh is supposed to be at 10mg now. Kell turns the canister over. It is 50mg. But they have to confirm it — how much was left. “Sheep. Bleat for me,” they command.

“Maaaa–” Niamh would hate this and she doesn’t. She obeys, she laughs — choking on sobs and spittle. “Look, Sir! See how it wants it, even if it hurts, even if it can’t think.”

“Makin’ ya sheep-bleat is one thing.” And I’m gonna make it your callsign, trust me. “But I don’t wanna mess with ya right now — it’s not fun, Empire.”

Kell was still realising, the less she was Empire, the more she was just the scared, abandoned Yeoman that needed to know someone wanted her. But Kell wasn’t messing with their enemy anymore, but with their friend. Or, something worse than that now.

They coaxed her to lie down — for now they just needed her to stop — unlocking the ankle cuff to toss it aside. “We can talk when you’re better, ya know?”

Fear tracked across her vision and, unsure about her own unfettering, pushed herself back up while frustrating Kell’s attempts to wordlessly keep her there. “No, I–“

“Empire,” snapped Kell, trying to get her to stop without forcing her. “Why do you want it?”

She bunched a pillow in her hands. “B-because you’re here and that means I’m safe. And then you’re not and every time the door opens–“

It’s her nightmare, the one she’s had a dozen times, dancing now across dilated retinas. She doesn’t know what it means to leave, to go, except to– “I’m dragged in front of a wall, and those lovely subcommanders of yours blast my brains out for a propaganda film. Because I’m not useful to them, not like they want me to be. Like I can be, for you.”

“Hey — you’re not going anywhere. We’re not–“

They sighed, gear-shifting their expectations for today.

Kell needed it, they both did. uşak escort And Niamh pulled in closer — guided by Kell’s hands — till she was firmly, warmly cradled. “I know a way in which you can be very useful.”

One last time wouldn’t hurt — but only a little. “You do, you do?” she chirped.

Kell had lied to her, over and over now — it was fun to see her like this, admitting her secret desires through gritted teeth and spinning eyes. But Kell knew now — why they liked it; it was victory, not control. They liked Niamh choosing to rely on them. Need them.

(Maybe that’s what made Kell feel useful.)

So right now they needed her to ride it out, because addiction suppressant was useless for this, and another antagonist — at this dose — would serve only to violently exhume her guts.

That’s if the wine wasn’t going to do that on its own.

“Being ever so pretty,” they responded at last, pulling her shorts away and grasping at her, finding an overclocked, overheated hard-point — desperate for its mounting.

But all Kell could fit was a finger and thumb, pulling back and forth slowly, squeezing gently whenever they reached top. “And making such pretty noises for me.”

“Maaaa,” she bleated again — turning her fluffy, ginger curls into Kell and chewing at balled knuckles, before then reaching out, anxiously, for the little kisses Kell dishes out like a love-fed Autocannon, before another misfiring attempt to soothe her.

“Ya know the worst that woulda happened?” they asked. She knows — and Kell knows it won’t fix her problem. “Ya sit in the POW camp while Blackford finishes collapsing in on himself, and we send ya home.”

For a modest fee, missing the Heirloom that is your heart — Kell does not add.

Niamh bucked into their grasp, desperate to feel the joystick twiddled more and faster. So Kell held them tighter, well-briefed otherwise that such misappropriated equipment will take hours to operate correctly — if they let it.

Though Niamh would let it happen, she offered her-entire-self every time — begged to swear loyalty with her ass. But Kell kept pushing it back.

How did you break someone to be a partner, not a subject?

Because Kell never learned how to fix things — certainly not people. They didn’t make armaments for that. So, for now, Kell insisted only on her pleasure and maybe, üsküdar escort at most, helping them, rarely — sheltering her in wetted trenches.

“You don’t need to be useful,” they cooed.

“Nooo– I do. Please let me keep it — Sir.” Niamh couldn’t believe them, not now. “Then you’d know I’d follow your orders, and you could trust me, and maybe then you could–“

She hadn’t ever lived without being useful — didn’t know what it meant.

Niamh stirred, the pleasing dullness in her head, a blossom of cold, terrified honesty, ejected as she fucking exploded — dumping hot, white shrapnel all over, then writhing indignantly in her own mess. “–fuck, then maybe you could keep me.”

“Empire– the Tribunal approved you. You’re not– hey!”

They leant back, running a hand over her hot-blooded cheeks, while she was already trying to run away again. Where ya gonna go?

“Empire–“

“No! No Empire!” she shrieked — before falling away, in shock, desperate to diminish herself. “I’m not– I don’t want to be Empire anymore.”

Kell could see the phosphate-flash in her eyes, followed then by the smouldering wreck of another self-debasing idea she’d devised. “Let me speak to them, my family — I’ll abdicate. And they’ll hate me, and never want see me again, and–“

She wouldn’t stop.

Kell knew it wouldn’t be today.

So they gave up, and got up, and left her stranded for a moment — shivering, and still muttering — before re-engaging with a warm, damp towel. Replaced then, after clean-up, with the soft, little shark she clung to when Kell was gone.

(Their militia always brought toys — at least one crate — for lost kids and now especially pathetic defectors. Kell had to be careful not to mention that all ninety-nine of its fellows had been scorched by back-mounted mortar bypassing the point-defence.)

(Niamh already felt guilty about the little she knew she’d done, with 40 tons of Heirloom steel. Kell didn’t need her to realise she was responsible for 18 kilos of scorched stuffie, especially after letting her hoard the 190 grams of slight-singed lone-survivor.)

She held it close — so close Kell worried she’d tear it apart. And Kell held her close, and worried the same.

And she wouldn’t stop, but Kell just let her ride it out.

—

When Kell rebooted, Niamh hadn’t retreated. üzümlü escort She was exactly where they’d left her.

Dozen Hells did they give this bitch an ankle chain for?

They rose slowly, laying her down beside them, carefully entwining their fingers before snatching the toy from her hands, waking her with a wretched fright.

“What’re you– give him– give Filib back!” she groaned, octaves kneeling lower than she did.

“Oh — he has a name now? Guess this one is gonna hurt.”

Kell didn’t torment her — they didn’t. So Niamh didn’t know to brace for whatever mean trick this would be. “W-what do you mean, hurt?”

“Sponsor Kell Kinroth, for the Defector Niamh Gilios, issuing a disciplinary action,” they purred, clearly swept up in the idea. “Infraction; usage of withheld contraband — namely, combat stabilisers smuggled from the Defector’s Cavalry.”

Niamh held her tongue, posted it between her teeth, unsure as to whether it was best to flick words of anger or apologia.

“Response; withdrawal of Defector-issued comfort unit for three weeks.”

“What!? Nooo– Kell! You can’t be serious. I thought– didn’t you say I got approved?” She got up on her knees, hands clutched a shark-toy-sized distance from her breast. “I didn’t fucking imagine that, okay. I don’t have a sponsor anymore, right?”

“Only when you sign the papers.”

Kell turned to the door — permanently thumbing away the security lock.

“And ya still got me for probation, so I gotta take it seriously don’t I?”

Niamh’s head rolled and jittered like malfunctioning point-defence, but Kell couldn’t see it.

“I’ll bring him back early — if you’re good,” they teased, as it opened.

“Please–“

“–Kell.”

Niamh edged off the bed — hesitant towards the spectre of the ankle chain — and clutched at Kell’s arm, bracing the shivers in her hands.

“I-I don’t want to be left alone — when you’re gone.”

Kell could’ve slipped their grasp, been callous about it and would’ve months ago, but–

“Shit, I wasn’t really gonna– sorry Em– Niamh.”

They pivoted back to face her, stepped in a smidgen to let the door close and picked up the appeal papers to press them into her hands. “Revision; withdrawal for 10 minutes.”

They pantomimed out one of Filib’s fins for her to fleetingly hold on to her.

“Ya know, while I go fetch more suppressant from the infirmary, and you sign the papers. Just rememberin’ — I pick your callsign.”

Niamh let go, rolling her eyes and unfurling the document — only a little bothered she wouldn’t get to try killing this one again.

“Yes — Sir.”

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Belowdecks

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Daddy

pairings: M / trans F

Content warnings: none

* * * * *

The third sun was finally making its retreat, the lights in the Moonward Isle skysailors’ lounge rose to compensate, and, for Captain Xanthe Simeon, the night had finally begun in earnest. No messages by alldusk meant no change to her schedule — the Devil’s Advocate would set sail tomorrow as planned, and, until then, her time was her own.

First, time to let her hair down, yanking the tie loose and turning a semi-businesslike ponytail into a bouncy shock of fuchsia; the dye job was starting to fade and expose flashes of her natural brown, but she rather liked the way it looked. A quick shake of her head cleared the stray locks from her hazel eyes. Then she fed a half-sylve bit into the auto-bard, queued up a few old favourites, and called out for a spiced cocoa. It was ready by the time she reached the bar, and Gregory slid it across the counter with a smile. As a longtime patron, Xanthe’s first drink every night was free. As Gregory’s former crewmate and occasional bunkmate, so was her second.

The lounge was quiet tonight. Xanthe’s crew were all either on standby aboard the Devil’s Advocate (and probably standing down by now), or running errands elsewhere on the Isle. The dock hadn’t been busy, either, with only two other big ships and the usual gaggle of barges and skiffs, and none of the dozen or so sailors in attendance looked familiar to her. In the absence of exciting-looking company, she took a seat at an empty table between the auto-bard and four red-faced dust-trawlers, having a spirited, confusing argument about clouds. Pointless bickering for its own sake was practically a sport in the dusting business, and Xanthe was a keen spectator. It was best not to stare, but she could listen in and chuckle into her cocoa at the highlights.

“Look, you can’t argue with it,” said one. “If altostratus don’t have veins, then what were up with that thick altostratus bastard we flew through two days ago?”

“That was a cirrostratus, you muppet!” countered another.

“Didn’t feel very cirro,” grunted a third. “Where were the wisps?”

“Instruments said…” began the second trawler.

“Where were the fucking wisps, Julian?” bellowed the third.

Xanthe tried to stifle a laugh, but she doubted they’d hear it anyway over the general uproar that followed. To her disappointment, it died down fairly quickly as the fourth trawler, who was either in charge or just louder than the rest, imposed some sort of order.

And then, to her delight, someone saw the social machinery that was keeping these four from arguing, and casually tossed a wrench into it.

Heavy footfalls approached the table behind her. “Evening, gents.”

Xanthe pulled the compass from her pocket and pretended to check her reflection in its shiny silver case, angling it to get a good look at the newcomer. She caught his middle first: a battered serpentskin overcoat, reinforced with iridescent chitin plates, hung confidently from a thick, powerful torso.

“Couldn’t help but overhear your discussion, and, well, I’m no expert, but I’ve done my time in the skies…”

Xanthe tilted the compass back just a little and finally got a look at the man’s face. He was pretty. Oh dear, he was very pretty indeed. Perhaps a few years on her twenty-nine, and pleasingly weathered by it. His crew cut flattered him, the thick, dark beard couldn’t conceal a strong, stony jawline, and his terracotta skin had a faint bluish undertone that suggested a pinch of orc in his genetics. And he was smiling, an utterly shameless grin that screamed “I’m about to cause problems”.

“You sure you’re dealing with stratus there? ‘Cause I’ve been through some altocumulus that are bloody riddled with dust.”

Then he looked directly at the compass, and, for just a moment, Xanthe could’ve sworn she saw him wink at her.

“Just a thought,” he said. “Have a good evening.”

He was striding back towards the bar before they could reply, and one of the trawlers ventured, “Actually, I bet it was altocumulus. Hard to tell at that –“

“Marion, if you say ‘at that altitude’ one more time,” snarled Julian.

“Nah, nah, he has a point,” said the one who’d been a mediator before. “Youse never been stuck in an alto-C before? Those ripples?”

“There were no godsdamn pissing ripples!”

That would probably have set Xanthe off laughing again, but she’d tuned out a little, because the stranger who’d reignited the argument was making a beeline for her table, drink in hand.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, hand planted on the back of the chair opposite her. “Slow night, wouldn’t mind talking to someone other than the wall.”

Xanthe nodded. “Faster night now,” she said. “That was bad.”

“In my defence, it was also very funny,” said the stranger, settling into his seat. He was bigger than she’d realised, even sitting down — he probably had a good half foot on her. He extended a big, solid hand across the table. “Galva.”

“Xanthe.”

His ünye escort handshake was iron-firm. “You been here long?” he said.

“Few days,” said Xanthe. “My employer’s been having some pirate trouble, so I’ve been on call to divert. Looks like a quiet one this time, though.”

Galva scratched his beard. “Didn’t have you pegged as a company woman.”

“Nor me,” admitted Xanthe, “but my girl took some knocks and we needed a sponsor. Contract’s up in a few weeks, though.”

Galva winced. “Big repair bill?”

“Pretty,” said Xanthe. “The Devil’s Advocate’s a tough old bitch, but when she fails, she fails.”

Galva’s eyes widened. “That’s your ship? That big red hybrid with the claw sails?”

“Oh yes. Six years and counting under my watch.” Xanthe smiled proudly. “Sorry, she’s not for sale.”

“Fuck, no, she’s way beyond my means,” said Galva quickly. “But I just thought… gods, she’s gorgeous. Tough, sharp, just a little bit dangerous.”

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” said Xanthe.

“Yeah,” said Galva, “and her ship looks pretty good, too.”

Xanthe had the following thoughts, in no particular order:

I should have seen that coming.

Uh-oh. I’m definitely going to end up making out with him. At minimum.

Change the subject, quick, before he sees you’re flustered!

It was too late for that, alas; her pale cheeks flushed a crimson almost as deep as her flight jacket, and she fidgeted a little as she cleared her throat. His wry little smile didn’t waver. “What’s your line, then?” she managed to ask. “That’s a nice coat you have there. Bounty hunter?”

“No! Fuck, no,” said Galva, recoiling in feigned offence. “This is an heirloom. I’m just a trader. Small-time, not your calibre — it’s just me and my little brother.”

“What’re you hauling?”

“Oh, y’know, light goods,” Galva shrugged. “Construction gear, small-batch minerals, nothing too heavy. I take whatever I’m given.”

Xanthe nodded. “Right,” she said. “And what are you actually hauling?”

Galva scoffed, then leaned in closer. “Depends. Are you an inspector? You have to tell me if you’re an inspector.”

“That depends,” Xanthe said, leaning in to match him. “Are you a dirty fucking smuggler, Mr Galva?” In truth, they both knew that any Barony inspector who made it as far as the Moonward Isle was either hopelessly lost or hopelessly crooked. It wasn’t exactly a free haven — the mayor had a few standards — but, for anything short of actual piracy, the port authorities tended to have bad eyesight and worse memories.

They stayed close for a brief, charged moment, then Galva laughed and threw himself back into his chair, with enough force that Xanthe heard the wood creaking. “Alright, you got me, Captain,” he said. “I’m a dirty fucking smuggler. Guilty as charged.”

“And the coat?” probed Xanthe.

“Nah,” said Galva, “that’s legit. And pretty useful. When the locals think you might be a merchant prince slumming it, they don’t ask so many questions.”

“Well, then.” Xanthe drank up the last of her cocoa. “I think that concludes my investigation. Oh, but — just one more thing.”

“Hm?” Galva raised an eyebrow.

“What are you drinking tonight, lowlife?”

The titan opposite Xanthe eyed his glass warily. “Something harder than this,” he said. “What do you recommend here?”

Xanthe pursed her lips. “I know just the thing.”

* * * * *

The lounge was even quieter now. The trawlers had finally agreed to disagree and shambled back to their barge for the night, and even Zach and Monisha, who came here every night to play cards and seemingly never did any actual sailing, had retired early. There were four people left: Gregory the bartender, a surly satyr in the corner nursing his fifth glass of persimmon wine, and two sailors, perfect strangers to each other, who’d been talking uninterrupted for the last hour and a half.

“Sweet mercy,” rumbled Galva, setting down his mug. “And you drink this for fun, do you? It’s not some weird ascetic thing?”

Xanthe laughed, and this time she didn’t mind flushing a little. As it turned out, Galva, despite his size and manner, was something of a lightweight, and it was adorable.

“It’s only a flaming apple,” she teased. “I bet you’ve had far stronger belowdecks on the… what’d you call it again?”

“The You Shall Know Us Only By The Spaces We Leave When We Depart,” said Galva, wagging a finger like an overenthusiastic teacher.

“Yeah. On there. You’ve hidden stronger stuff than this under the floorboards.”

“Partaking of the goods,” said Galva, “doesn’t get you many repeat customers.”

Partake of my goods, Galva, said Xanthe’s brain, which she quickly squashed down. “I never got an answer, by the way,” she said. “What are you carrying?”

Galva laughed, a deep, warm laugh that she wanted to dive into like a swimming pool. “I’m off to the Biarchy,” he said, “with forty dozen copies of a book they’ve just banned. The Vice of Saint Alexandra.”

“Ooh,” şanlıurfa escort said Xanthe. “Heretical?”

“Most heretical book in a generation, says the archpontiff.”

Xanthe wolf-whistled. “Save me a copy, won’t you? I love a little apostasy.”

“I don’t think most of ’em will be reading it for the theology,” smirked Galva. “Saint Alexandra had a fair few vices, it seems.”

“How many of them involved her getting her tits out?”

Galva thought for a moment, then said, “Three quarters or so.”

“Illustrated, this book?”

“Lavishly.”

“So it seems to me,” said Xanthe, “that what you’re actually hauling is, in fact, pornography.”

“One man’s pornography…” Galva began.

“You’re slippery,” said Xanthe, reaching across the table to prod Galva in the chest. He felt good to poke. Nice bit of yield. “You’re a trader, then you’re a smuggler. It’s theology, then it’s porn. Slippery like a serpentskin coat.”

Galva held firm, giving her a sleepy, even smile. “Serpents are pretty dry, actually,” he remarked. “No slime, they just…” He pantomimed a vague wavy motion with his hands, but broke into a giggling fit at his own attempt before he could finish.

“Fine. Then you’re slippery like… something else,” said Xanthe, calculating the pause carefully for maximum suggestive tension. She settled back into her seat and folded her arms. “Am I ever getting a straight answer out of you?”

“No idea what you mean, Captain,” Galva said, eyes meeting hers. “I’ve been perfectly clear.”

“In some respects,” said Xanthe. “If I had any doubt you were coming onto me, you’ve certainly put that to rest.”

“Good,” said Galva, quirking an eyebrow. “Is it working?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” said Xanthe.

“True enough,” said Galva. “Hey, when did you say you were shipping out again?”

Xanthe grimaced. “Tomorrow,” she said. “By noon, if all goes well, which it probably won’t.”

“Such is life,” huffed Galva, leaning back again. He was even prettier all stretched out like that. On display, almost. Xanthe had to restrain herself from actually licking her lips, but the sentiment was probably still clear on her face.

There was a brief, charged silence.

“Why’d you ask?” said Xanthe.

“Well,” said Galva, “I wanted to know how long we had left. Y’know, to keep doing this.”

“This as opposed to…” Xanthe trailed off, instead pulling her chair in as far as she could and stretching herself out across the table.

Galva spread his hands evenly as he came in to meet her. “You tell me.”

Xanthe reached forward and traced a fingertip along the outline of his beard. “Slippery,” she said.

Their first attempt to kiss was cut short as they both tilted their heads the same way, bouncing back and giggling, but the second more than made up for it. He wasn’t as good a kisser as her — she was a true master, confirmed by many testimonials from her friends and lovers — but fuck, he was good enough. His beard tickled just the right amount, and he was good with his tongue, not too passive, not too aggressive.

“You can do that again,” said Galva, a little awed, when they broke apart. So Xanthe did. The second time was hungrier, a kiss that carried powerful, reflected intent, and his hand was in her bright hair within moments, holding her close. Not gripping or grabbing, mind — holding.

He’d done this before, she could tell. Meet a pretty stranger, slip into her attention and make her skin prickle with want, let her do the same to him. Practised. Seasoned. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere, including the beginnings of a twitch in her breeches — down, girl, she thought, you’ll get yours. Then her head drifted to whether Galva might be having similar stirrings, and that really got her heart jumping.

It was hard to pull back, and Galva looked almost disappointed when Xanthe did, like he could’ve done this all night and been satisfied. She folded her arms and grinned. “Well?”

“I’m sorry,” said Galva, “but there’s not much room on the You Shall Know Us. My brother has his boyfriend along. But I could get us a…”

Xanthe cut him off. “What’s my name, Galva?”

“Xanthe Simeon,” he said, puzzled.

“My full name.”

Realisation dawned in his eyes. “Captain Xanthe Simeon.”

“You’re damn right I am,” grinned Xanthe. “Care to visit my quarters?”

As they left, she paused to exchange a meaningful glance with Gregory, who nodded and gave her a thumbs up. He knew the meaning well by now: “I’ll pay my tab in the morning.”

* * * * *

The journey back to the Devil’s Advocate was short but unsteady; between the slight buzz of alcohol, the clumsy excitement, and some high winds when they made it outside, they both almost tripped a couple of times on the way. The ship’s service lanterns were lit, but the crew windows on her flank were almost all dark. The crew were probably getting the sleep Xanthe ought to be, she thought, and she hoped she didn’t deprive ürgüp escort them of too much.

Rosa was on night duty, and saluted Xanthe as she approached — Xanthe didn’t run an especially strict ship, especially not for a friend as close as Rosa, but she’d picked up the habit in naval school and never quite shaken it. “Who’s this?” she asked. “You going to bed with him, Cap’n?”

“Galva,” said Galva, giving her a cautious, confused wave.

“Aye,” said Xanthe, grinning from ear to ear.

Rosa lifted her goggles and squinted at Galva, who helpfully stepped a little further into the light. “Nice,” she said at last. “He’s not coming with, though, is he? I’ve only provisioned for the crew.”

Xanthe shook her head. “Man’s got places to be. I’m just first on his list.”

“Good, good. Take care, Cap’n.” The bosun pulled her goggles back down and returned to her gear checks.

“Night, Rosa,” called Xanthe as she led Galva to the stairs.

Xanthe’s cabin was just below the bridge, and deceptively spacious given the Advocate’s sleek hull. She locked the door behind her and threw a switch to ignite the arc-lanterns hanging on the walls, casting a warm, inviting orange glow on the room. It was a mess, even more than the standard ambient disarray that clung to Xanthe wherever she sat down, but the bed was clear, made, and generously sized.

“Forgive the mess,” she said, crouching to unlace her boots and kicking them off into a corner.

“We’ll only make more,” said Galva, following suit.

Xanthe caught Galva between her and the door and kissed him again, this time making a play to get that coat off him. He let it slide off his arms, but caught it before it hit the ground, laying it on the edge of her bed. Off came his suspenders, dangling down at his hips, and the tight grey tunic that had shown off his shape so enticingly; now Xanthe had an unobstructed view, at least from the waist up. He was hairy, with a thick trail of fur starting at his navel and curling down towards… well, it was hard to make out in the half-light, but she’d felt it against her, and she’d liked it.

Just as she was reaching for his belt buckle, though, Galva put a hand on her wrist. “Not fair,” he grunted. “Think it’s my turn.”

That was just fine by Xanthe, and she let him peel her flight jacket off her, and the shirt underneath. Her breastband wasn’t very secure, done up in a hurry, and one tug unravelled the whole thing; Galva stepped back and took a moment to admire her. Her tits were small, subtle, even, but Xanthe liked them on her frame, and Galva, from the flash of hunger in his eyes, seemed to concur.

When he hooked his thumbs into the sides of her breeches, Xanthe laughed and said “hey, what happened to fairness?”, but she didn’t object. They were tight, and took some effort to pry down, but, when she stepped out of them and the underwear that had come away with them, Galva finally had her naked.

Her cock twitched a little, not quite fully hard but definitely full and excited. Galva looked down and smiled nervously. “Do you like to be, um, played with?” he asked. “Sorry, I might be a little unrefined, I’ve never actually…”

Xanthe pressed herself to Galva, took his hand, and stood on her tiptoes so she could whisper right into his ear. “Touch me,” she said, “and listen. You’ll work it out.”

Galva planted a hand just below her breasts and gave her a gentle push. It wasn’t enough to knock her over, but she pretended it was, falling back theatrically onto the bed. He followed, and she slipped naturally towards him as his thick, strong body dented the mattress.

“Alright,” he said, and kissed her again right as his fingers wrapped around her.

Xanthe’s cock was like her breasts, modest, but it felt even smaller in a hand so much larger than her own. She quickly found that she didn’t mind. True to Galva’s word, it took a little while for him to get the motion right. At first he tried to stroke it as he would his own cock, and found limited success, but he adapted quickly to her texture and slight softness, and soon enough he had her sighing into his mouth, voicing each breath a little more than the last as he found a rhythm she liked. It was a little slower than she’d be on her own, but she was always in such a hurry. Galva made her take her time, and she was loving it.

His grip was careful but firm, and, when he spat into his hand and rubbed that in to ease his stroke, Xanthe was shivering against him. She was starting to tense up, ready and eager to cum, and Galva could tell.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Xanthe whimpered. “But, fair — ah — fair warning, I’m going to…”

When the almost imperceptible tightening of his grip confirmed that he wanted her to cum for him, she did. Galva hummed with satisfaction as she bucked up into his closed fist, and, as the tremors subsided and he pulled it away, he smiled at how much of a mess she’d made. Her shaft and his palm were both covered in silvery slick, and he brought the latter to his lips to taste her, a sight that made even a tapped-out, post-orgasmic Xanthe bite her lip with excitement.

“How does it…” she ventured, voice wobbling.

Galva smacked his lips and held out his hand to her. “Interesting. Here, you try.”

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Battle of Wills Ch. 02

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Panties

Adam was surprised to even see Marguerite out of her room the next day, much less sauntering around in that manner. She seemed to hover around him, and to touch him at every opportunity. The sudden brush of a hand against his as she handed him something, across his back as she passed by, resting on his shoulder as she stood behind his chair, once she’d even pinched him when he’d said something during negotiations that she had apparently disapproved of. Another day in the battle of wills had begun. He found he could expect her touch to linger when she approved and to turn into a pinch when she disapproved, her silent advise actually was quite good. She leaned down once to whisper in his ear the proper formal greeting to the ambassador that was across the table from him before it even seemed that anyone had noticed that he had forgotten the words. At the celebration welcoming them to the foreign port she wore the clothes of the culture so as not to insult them by showing her face. She did not speak aloud once, but many times her whisper emanated from somewhere near his shoulder reminding him what to do, not to do, say or not to say. She attended him everywhere in lieu of his usual bodyguard as she attracted less suspicion that she was armed to the teeth. Only once was it questioned that she should be there, and that was when those that he was meeting invited him to enjoy a sauna, and it was jokingly suggested that it was for the protection of his marital happiness in case the comparison did not flatter him.

“My wife attends me everywhere,” was his only reply as he lounged on his side comfortably across the room from his hosts. He was surprised when the lingering touch he had expected settled on the back of his thigh instead of the places that it had settled on before. He wondered when the touch turned into a gentle massage that slowly crept up to his buttocks, then down the other leg. The touch disappeared when a server approached their side of the table again and he realized that all of her touches while they were immersed in this culture had been unseen. To them she appeared silent, and motionless except when walking at his elbow or seating herself near him. When they adjourned to the sauna she stood behind the bench he sat on and he received another unseen massage, this doing much more to relieve the stress in his muscles than the previous, which had actually increased his tension.

A light meal followed the sauna including wine. Adam found that he was expected to hold his glass behind him a few seconds to allow Marguerite to dip her fingers in and for a taste along with slipping her a piece of each delicacy before he ate it. After a servant refilled his cup a third time, he held it behind him and felt the familiar tap of her fingers dipping into it, but as he began to bring the cup to his lips, her hand flashed out to grip his wrist tightly. The wine sloshed out over the edge of the cup, and she quickly pulled a platter off the table to catch it in, then set both platter and cup onto the table. Next a blade flew across the room to pin down the sleeve of each hand that was reaching for the other cups that were newly filled. Four blades quivered pinning four sleeves. A fifth blade flew to slice through the wineskin, it exploded in the face and poured down the front of the servant that carried it. He began to scream as the drug Marguerite had detected from the few drops she had tasted worked in the enormous amount that had splashed into his mouth and eyes. Marguerite settled back into the position she had previously sat in behind Adam, which seemed to break the spell of shock that had descended on the room at the instant her hand had stopped his cup.

“We seem to be indebted to you for bringing your wife to save our lives,” the host said, pulling the blade from his sleeve that had kept him from picking up his drink as he continued, ” I hope these were brought only to be used in defense if necessary?”

“I wouldn’t know to be honest,” Adam chuckled, “you would have to ask her exactly why she carries what she does.” Adam felt a pinch just above his belt.

“We do not address the wife of another man here, you will have to ask for us and tell us what she says in answer.”

“Well then, wife, what do you say in answer to our host’s question?” Adam turned his head as she forward to place her mouth next to his ear.

“Actually, I hoped to merely use them to pin you down tonight to where your only choice was to submit to what I wanted, or rip your clothes üçyol escort to shreds in order to get up, but I suppose defense of the current company is a better use as it will aid your negotiations,” she whispered, breathing on him intentionally, then straightened back up to her former position.

“She admits no offensive purpose,” Adam said, “and a hope that the service she rendered will soften you hard bargaining,” he added grinning and the assembly laughed. The knives she had thrown had all been removed and were passed around to him, he simply placed them behind him for Marguerite.

“Perhaps it will,” their host smiled and clapped, “I believe we have had enough excitement tonight.”

A servant led Adam and Marguerite to the suite where they were to spend the night and left. Marguerite shut the door behind her, laughed softly and then again removed her arsenal but for the one blade at her bosom. They clinked as they fell to the floor as she walked towards Adam. She stepped up behind him and reached up, lightly rubbed his temples, then his jaw, worked her way down his neck to his shoulders. He sighed as he began to relax.

“Strip down and lay on the bed on your stomach,” she murmured. When he did, she climbed up next to him and picked up her massage where she left off, pressing harder where the muscles were knotted. She worked her way down his back, over his hips and down his legs to his feet. As she worked her way back up, she felt the difference, he was relaxing, slowly. She climbed down and went over to the carved cabinet looking for the scented oils she suspected she would find there.

“How did you know the wine was poisoned?” he asked, rolling onto his side.

“It made my lips tingle and burn,” she replied, returning with a glass bottle in hand of rose oil.

“What’s that?”

“Oil for your muscles, now lay down,” she climbed back onto the bed next to him and pushed his shoulder down gently until he was back on his stomach. This time she poured a few drops onto his back and smoothed it into his skin over his muscles in the same pattern as before, feeling the tension in his muscles release.

“Mm mm….that’s better,” he muffled into the bedding as she got off him.

“Now roll over,” she said. When he hesitated, she added: “You have too much on your mind, it’ll do you good and I won’t take advantage.” He rolled onto his back and she repeated the process, keeping true to her word she avoided his genitals. Once she was finished, she returned the bottle to it’s place in on the shelf in the cabinet then stretched out on the rug.

“What are you doing down there?” he asked, pulling the sheets down on the bed to slip between them.

“Going to sleep.”

“You won’t sleep well down there.”

“Most likely not, but you have not invited me to your bed.”

“Well, now I am,” he flipped the sheet in a way that opened it on the other side of the bed.

“You sleep on that side so anyone will have to reach over me to get to you,” Marguerite said, and Adam simply rolled to the other side. He faced her again on his side and watched as she pulled off the draped covering, she had apparently worn only the bare minimum beneath due to the heat. She unclipped the dagger from her bosom and slipped it under her pillow, then slipped between the sheets and settled down to sleep.

Adam woke to find that Marguerite had snuggled up against him in her sleep, and that his harm had found it’s way around her. Her cheek on his shoulder meant that her breath fanned over his chest. He wondered how long they had been laying there like that because his body was responding to the gentle wafting that bushed past his nipples. He shifted, trying to slide his arm from beneath her, but that made her arm come up over his stomach, her hand laid on his hip. Now Marguerite woke, but feeling Adam’s body next to hers, she feigned sleep. He shifted again, as though he were uncomfortable, she opened her eyes just enough to see why and smiled. Still feigning sleep, she sighed and stretched, her body pressed harder against Adam’s and her hand happened to brush against his rising member. He grabbed her hand and kept it there, slowly pulling her hand up and down against him. Marguerite stretched again, this time she moved her leg across his, her thigh pressing gently against his scrotum. He made a sound, although it seemed muffled as though he was trying to hold it in. Marguerite hooked her foot around his leg, pulling him closer and wrapped her ulus escort fingers around him as he used her hand. She rolled up, straddled his legs and bent down to lick him, then take him into her mouth. Her lips, tongue and hands gently stroked up and down, he moaned. He buried a hand in her hair and guided her to do what he wanted, what he needed. Keeping the pace that he had set, she slowly moved around until she faced his feet, then swirled her tongue around the head once more before she shoved forward, and he found himself lodged deep in her throat. She swallowed, her throat contracted around him and pushed him over the edge. Adam thrust into her mouth as he exploded in her throat, she swallowed again and again, milking him until he was spent. Marguerite licked him clean, dressed, gathered up her arsenal and re-assumed her quiet role as his guard.

She waited silently as he dressed and followed him from the suite. She quietly guided him through the unknown corridors, her eyes, shielded behind a sheer section of the cloth draped over her watched him and everyone around him. Their host met them in the hall where they had dined the evening before told Adam, more for the benefit of Marguerite that his guards would follow any gesture from her indicating a threat in the crowd. Marguerite nodded her assent, and then they walked out into the crowd. Her quick eyes and hands led the guards to security threats before they even had a chance to look for them. Only once did anyone get close enough for her to be required to take action herself. She tapped Adam and their host each on the shoulder before pushing them down just before the blades flew through the space where their throats had been and sank themselves into people that had been on the other side. Adam pulled her down with them and they were instantly surrounded by guards that had been mixing in with the crowd.

“Again, I must thank you for your wife’s attendance to my safety,” the other man said, “our negotiations are over, whatever we have is yours for the asking.”

“And I’m sure he will thank you properly as soon as you are both properly safe, here under this,” Marguerite said as she pulled them both to their feet but kept them crouching then threw some sackcloth over them, “now come with me.” The guards held still in a tight circle around where they had been as she led the sack-cloth covered men unseen through the streets, not back towards their host’s palace, but onwards to their barge. She did not relax her guard of them or throw off the sackcloth until they were inside with the hatch sealed. Then she looked back through the window at the riot they had left in the streets behind them.

“What’s it look like out there?” Adam asked.

“I don’t think they are too happy that we are being considered as a trading partner,” Marguerite said.

“Too bad their protests sealed the deal for you,” the other man shook Adam’s hand warmly, “and you,” he turned to Marguerite, addressing her directly for the first time, “you are a wife as I will have mine be in the future.”

“I am glad to serve my husband’s purpose,” Marguerite said simply before walking away.

“If you do not find the idea uncomfortable, we will take off and hover above your palace to provide you a more direct and protected way home,” Adam said as he conducted his new guest through the corridors.

“That sounds lovely,” was the reply.

Marguerite stripped off as soon as she entered the door that led to the Royal Suite. Her clothes made a trail from the entry to the door to her own room, there she set all of her weapons on a table except one of the razor sharp blades that was made all of one piece of metal, then walked over to the bath. She ran the water into the basin, pouring scented soap in with the water caused it to bubble up. While she waited for it to fill she turned on some music, then shut off the tap, stepped in and settled down into the warm water. She let the water soak away the sweat, while her fingers rubbed away the tension in her neck. Remembering when she had rubbed the tension from Adam’s muscles she ran her hands down her body under the water. She pinched her nipples while washing her well rounded breasts, rolling them between her fingers until they became peaks. Her hands traveled lower over her belly, muscled, but soft. Her hands traveled lower, feeling the soft stubble that had grown on her mound. She took up the blade that she had brought to the bath with her with one hand, the fingers of the ümraniye escort other continuing lower to tease in between her lips. Using her free hand to pull the skin taut, she deftly removed the stubble with the blade in the other hand. Setting the blade aside, her hands returned to her body, softly teasing the skin as they ran down it. She settled her hands down on her knees to brush them along her inner thighs creeping ever closer to her center. Reaching it she teased her fingers over he freshly shaved skin, then dipped a finger between to run it up her cleft. The finger stroked up and down a few times before settling down to circle her clitoris that had been pleasantly throbbing all day. Her other hand wandered up to her breasts, teasing one nipple and then the other under the water. With her eyes closed and her ears full of music she did not notice when the door opened for Adam to enter the suite. He heard the music, followed the sound into the bath and found her relaxing there. He, cleared his throat, she jumped at the sound, but did not remove her hands from her body.

“Did you want something?” she asked.

“Only to thank you for your performance today.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said, relaxing back on the edge of the tub and closing her eyes. She moved the hand on her breast down to join the other, it slipped a finger deep into her vagina, slowly moving in and out, softly teasing herself.

“And this morning…,” he trailed off.

“You needed it, just like you needed the massage last night,” she stated.

“Maybe I did,” he stripped off and joined her in the water, her eyes flew back open to watch him as he began washing off the sweat of the last two days off his body.

“Of course you did, otherwise I wouldn’t have done it,” she said haughtily. He ignored her as he washed himself for a while, then he held out the cloth to her.

“Wash my back,” he said.

“As you wish,” she said. One hand left her body to take the cloth and then rubbed it over his back when he turned it to her. As she ran the cloth lower the movement changed to gentle little circles, matching the movements of her other hand on her own body. She did not notice that he turned to her. He saw the flush in her face and took the cloth from her hand. Swishing his hand in the water pushed aside the bubbles and allowed him to watch the hand as it returned to the join the other at the juncture of her legs. More swishing of his hand allowed him to see her entire body through the water. Her breasts were buoyant and seemed to float just beneath the surface of the water.

“And just how long have you been doing this?” he asked, taking her breasts in hand, running his thumbs across the nipples. She jumped again, but this merely pushed her breasts into his hands.

“Since before you got in the bath,” she had no mind left to make up any excuses or lies.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been wanting you since I woke up this morning-” the last word was stretched out into a moan as he took a nipple in his mouth and pulled on it with his lips.

“That long huh? Why didn’t you take it while you had it in your hands then?” he asked before moving to the other breast.

“Because of our wedding night, it’s still….oh!” she murmured, then squealed when his hand wandered down to hers and replaced the finger inside her with his own.

“That was because you forced it from me, I wanted to punish you, now, you deserve a reward,” his mouth traveled up to cover hers as he added another finger to the one that had been sliding in and out of her and his thumb found her clitoris.

“Why?” she asked when his mouth moved to nibble her ear.

“For helping me with my negotiations,” he whispered into her ear, while he wrapped his arm around her.

“That was…,” she began then stopped talking to let out a moan as he crooked his fingers inside her.

“That was what?” he asked, adding another finger and purposely pressing upwards each time he thrust them into her.

“I only wanted to keep you alive, the fact that it helped you was…” she let out another moan, louder this time.

“Was what?” he asked again.

“A coincidence,” she managed to say between moans that now came each time his fingers went into her. He watched her closely until he knew she was ready and then plunged his fingers deep within her, curving them upwards to press her g-spot while his thumb resumed it’s ravaging of her clitoris. She arched against him moaning loudly as she orgasmed. He held still until she stopped squeezing around his fingers. Then pulled the plug to let the water drain from the basin, got out, dried off and went to bed. Marguerite got out of the tub a little afterwards and toweled off and went to her own room to sleep.

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Baited

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Blowjob

The vampire stalked her prey through the darkness of the night. A swirl of mist followed behind her as she silently glided towards the tall shadow of a man. He drunkenly collapsed into a side alley where she gleefully followed. Thirsty for him…in every sense.

Had he turned around to gaze behind him instead of looking in front, he could have seen her. She was feeling bold, brash…and sexy.

The tall, five eight dark haired vampire felt like sex on two legs. Her pale skin was smooth and soft…everywhere. Her jet black hair fell in gentle waves all the way to the small of her back. Her face was like a prom queen, full of strong cheek bones and slender angles. Her eyes, a vivid teal glowed as she neared the drunk, almost hypnotized by the sight of a fresh male.

Her body was curvy. Full breasts that threatened to spill out of her blood red corset top that only exaggerated her slim waist and full hips. She wore a plastic black skirt that seemed glued to her generous ass, showing off her long pale legs in knee high boots, spiked with wicked heels.

As she neared the man, she allowed her heels to clack clack on the sidewalk, never taking her eyes off of him

Up close she realize how handsome he appeared to be. He had dark red spiky hair, his skin was just as pale as hers was, but she couldn’t see his face. But she could see his build.

He was six foot two, with wide muscular shoulders and arms that seemed thick with muscles. His chest seemed broad, his abdomen fit, and his legs seemed to be sexily muscled. She licked her lips, noticing he was shaped rather pleasing.

Then she sniffed the drunk…only to realize…

He wasn’t drunk.

Puzzled, she stopped. Then he whirled on her and attacked before she could register anything.

“I felt your eyes on me, my pretty” He whispered in her ear.

Up close, the heat from his body scorched her. Her already heightened arousal bursting, making her pussy clench as it moistened for him. In a daze, she felt his tongue lick her neck as he ruthlessly ground his cock -a rather large one- into her spread legs. She wasn’t wearing any panties and she felt the thick bulge through his jeans.

When her eyes shot to his, tuşba escort she gasped.

His face was flawless. Pale skin over ruggedly handsome features. A perfect nose that had once been broken, gave him a rather brutish look. He had a dark red goatee, making him look like the devil. But his eyes convinced her that he was Satan, up from hell for a night on the town. His eyes were a bright brilliant gold rimmed darkly with black.

She creamed again and she knew the front of his jeans were getting moist with her slick juices.

“You know me,” He growled. “You know me and you’ll fuck me.”

She whimpered in pleasure as his fingers reached up to tweak her nipple through her top.

“You’re going to take my big dick in your mouth and swallowed every drop of cum I have for you.” He pulled her top down, exposing both of her tits to his greedy gaze. Her white breasts jiggled with each breasts as her pink nipples hardened to long points. “You are going to take it in your little juicy cunt. When I’m done ripping it apart, I’m going to go after your perfectly tight asshole. Ever had any meat in your buns?”

She was stunned. He really was the Devil! He had her topless in the open while his hands roamed her body, his left one holding her immobile against him while his right played with her tits. He gripped the soft mound in his hand tightly as he pinched the nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

“I know who you are Annalei,” He grinned, baring large canines in a beastly face. “I see your undead soul and I know just how much of a fucking whore you can be… When you have the right Master.”

Annalei was an ancient vampire, nearly two hundred years old. She had talked, fought, and seduced her way out of many situations. But old Satan never came to her until now and all she could say was;

“What took you so long, Master?”

Satan’s eyes flared in shock, his hands stilling upon the beautiful vampire. He had seduced many of the undead before, all of them were either too weak to handle his brand of sex or just too freakin tight assed to do anything but be as stiff as a dead fish.

But this one… She was getting turned on. He could smell the delicious tüyap escort perfume of her wet pussy. He could imagine her cumming all over him, creaming as he slid into her tight little sheath, screaming his name, begging for his little tortures and torments if it meant she could have a wildly controlled orgasm…

Satan smiled and in a flare of black smoke and flames, he brought her down to the sunless lands of Hell.

He lay her upon a large bed covered by dark grey silks. With a snap, steel chains wrapped around her ankles and wrist. He simply sat and stared at the beautiful picture she made. Her red top he had pulled down now pressed her breasts more invitingly up into the air. Her long pink nipples begged for him to bite them and tweak them and pull them til they were red. Her legs were pulled apart and her skirt was bunched around her thighs. He could see a glimpse of her wet smooth pussy lips. He was surprised that she had no hair there!

“So Annalei, I see you’re wet for Master.” He slowly pulled off his clothes. Exposing to her gaze a body made by sin. Chiseled chest and abs that flexed with each of his movements as he bent down, pulling of his pants, revealing an engorged dick. It looked like it was as wide as her forearm as it strained towards her.

She could only nod.

Satan laughed as fire burst around him. “Do you remember what I said I was going to do?”

Annalei tried so hard to remember, but her pussy was tingling with the need to be filled by that monstrous thing. She licked her lips. “Face fuck me.”

“Good girl!” Satan walked over her, she saw his dick bouncing in front of her face. She wanted to trace every vein with her tongue, wanted him to choke her with it. His balls were heavy sacks of virility and she wanted to suck those too. “Now open wide baby.”

When she opened her mouth, he plunged in, choking her. Tears welled up in her eyes as he cut of her breathing and her jaws stretched to near dislocation. But she loved how he used her. Loved how it felt so hot and tasted salty with his sweat. Loved that drop of precum she had seen sparkling on the end.

His balls rubbed her chin while he fucked her hot little mouth and tuzla escort throat. He groaned from the feeling. He started slowly, leisurely loving how she stretched her chin to tickle his balls which only allowed his dick to go further down her throat. He felt it constrict around him and he gasped with pleasure.

He reached behind him and started playing with her tight nipples, her moan vibrating up his shaft. He started fucking her faster, hardly allowing anytime for her to breath. But she was undead so she didn’t really need it.

He felt his balls tightening up. Oh god how he loved her little tongue tickling under his shaft. He looked down at her and saw her staring at him with her eyes glazed, she was moaning all over his dick. Her spit dripping off of it in messy little drips. Her black hair was a mess over his sheets. He grabbed the sides of her head and started fucking her throat hardcore.

She felt him piston in and out of her mouth, his cock getting bigger, filling her until she thought she’d break. He was snarling. Sweat dripping off of him, he balls slapping her chin violently. His eyes were all gold as he roared with his release, hot come shooting down her throat. He pulled out towards the end, shooting a couple globs into her hair and on her face. She felt a little bit of the salty treat dripping from the corners of her mouth.

She just stayed there while his eyes roamed over her face and features. A male sense of satisfaction over his face.

He snapped his fingers and undid her chains. Another snap and she was naked.

“I must return to work–torturing evil souls and trying to tempt the good to become evil.” He snapped again and a boiling hot bath balancing on the backs of three youngish looking men who were screaming soundlessly appeared. “Clean yourself up before my return. And vampire?”

Annalei dazedly stared up at Satan with a bemused look on her face. His own face looked just as confused. “Yes Master?”

“If you allow any soul–demon or mortal– to touch you while you remain I Hell, I will personally see to it that you are flayed alive then dipped into a boiling acid for the next couple centuries.”

“Yes Master.” She sighed and smiled at him. “I am only for your use Master.”

“Remember,” He winked at her. “I see into your soul, my slutty little Annalei.”

*****

Keep an eye out for the second part. J It’s coming I promise!! (Oops! No pun intended there. PS REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!

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A Very Special 75th Birthday

Ağustos 10, 2024 admin No Comments

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Babes

I had just started fall semester of my freshman year at a college in south Georgia. Being six hours away from home had its pros and cons, but mostly pros. I had so much freedom and there was no longer a curfew I had to follow. Unfortunately, I was in a small town, albeit a college town, but small nonetheless. This was a private school that I was able to attend via scholarships and with some funding from odd jobs I had during my junior and senior high school years.

What I found coolest was several of my closest friends from high school were also attending college with me. It made the transition just that much smoother. Unfortunately, there was only so much partying we could do, especially with us being in a dry county.

Things got stale fast. Within a couple of months of starting school, I was getting desperate for some sort of fun and excitement. I was closeted to most people, including my family, but my closest friends knew and in fact, several of them were also closeted, which strengthened our bond even more.

On one particularly boring Friday, my roommate Josh was doing some browsing on Craigslist when he came across an interesting ad that was listed under “gigs>talent”.

“Looking for a very special way to celebrate my friend’s 75th birthday,” it began. “Would love for a young man, preferably college age, even more preferably a first year college boy, to come celebrate and give him the gift of a lifetime. If interested, please send e-mail with your name, ht/wt/age, some photos, and a good contact number. Your job, if hired, will be to attend to his every need for the night. Opportunity to earn up to $2000.”

“Swallow some geezer gravy, pocket 2 Gs. Seems pretty straightforward, am I right, Ash?”

I squinted at the screen once more to catch the details. “I guess…I mean, I’m not really into the gramps scene…” my voice trailed off just as my other roommate Ben chimed in.

“I think we should all reply back and see who gets called! Let’s fucking do it!”

I was a bit hesitant, “I dunno guys…if they actually call back, then what? I am not about to go suck on some geezer with a wet noodle.”

“It’ll be alright Ash, your face would look perfect while it’s getting some Super Soaker action by a wrinkly wet noodle, it’s more dick than what you’ve ever had, HA!” Ben smirked before bursting out with laughter. I was quietly embarrassed since I was hoping to meet people here and perhaps hook-up here and there, but the prospect of that happening was approaching zero, at least for this semester.

“Come on, bro, it’ll be alright, it’s just something fun, boring as fuck around here otherwise!” Josh added, doing his best to sound re-assuring without sounding desperate. I sighed, defeated. “K, whatever, let’s get it done,” I said in a low tone.

For whatever reason, I replied back to the man’s email with photos from a trip to the beach back in early August. I added the requested info at the top.

“Hi, I’m Ash, I just turned 18 a month and a half before school started and I’m a freshman. I’m 5’5 and 120 lbs. You can reach me at XXX-XXX-XXXX.” I hit send from my phone and I felt a deep pit in my stomach almost immediately.

The other two also sent replies and we sat in silence for a moment, realizing what we had just invited upon ourselves. After a while, we went about our business, playing video games and doing some reading for school.

A few days went by and I had actually forgotten about the whole thing, that is until I got a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize. I was alone in my room that night when I received the call, but I let it go to voicemail. I was hoping it was just a spam call, but then I received an alert on my phone that there was a voicemail.

“Hello Ash, this is Gary. You responded to an ad for a birthday present for my best friend. After careful consideration, I have decided I really would like for you to join us at my place tomorrow evening. Please call me back when you receive this message.”

My heart began racing, I felt a mix of emotions, some of fear and hesitation, but I also felt flattered that I was chosen over my friends and whoever else may have responded.

“H-hey…soooo…I got this phone call from a guy named Gary. It was about that ad we replied to,” my voice quivered as I told Josh and Ben.

“Well? What did you say?!” Ben asked, his voice full of excitement.

“I didn’t…just let it go to voicemail,” I responded in a low tone. “God…I don’t know what to do now, I feel so stupid, he’s got my number too!”

“Bro, you’re gonna have to call him back. You’re gonna get laid!” Josh teased.

Much to my shock, the phone rang again. Same number. “Answer it! Dude, fucking answer it!” Ben yelled out.

“H-hello…hey…I got your message and I was going to call you back,” I stammered out.

“Yes, well hello. Ash, is it? I’m Gary. Loved your photos, just loved them. You are very attractive. My friend will truly enjoy your company,” Gary said.

“He viranşehir escort sounds nice enough,” I thought to myself as Josh and Ben snickered.

“Tell you what Ash, do you drive?”

“Mm-hmm,” I replied my voice shaking with fear and embarrassment.

“I live out in the country, right outside of town, exit 48, make a left at the stop sign and about half a mile down on the left you’ll see a little red house. There’s not much else there, so you shouldn’t miss it. Come around, let’s say, 9 PM tomorrow evening? Will that work for you?”

“Y-yes, sir,” I said in a high-pitched voice, still frozen in fear as my buddies teased me in the background.

“You don’t need to call me sir, I’m Gary. And don’t be scared, he’s very nice,” Gary said, his voice somewhat soothing before he hung up.

“So…you have a date?!!” Josh inquired. “He said tomorrow 9 PM,” I said, my voice still shaky. My heart was beating fast. I had, of course, some experience. Drunken make-out sessions and blowjobs with my friends are exactly how we all became so close with each other and precisely why we all ended up at the same small school far away from home. This was different, however. I had never been with an old man and I had never entertained the idea of being with one either. I was never really turned on by old men and I figured most of them couldn’t get hard anyway.

“Well Ash, this makes up for all the times you brushed off Mr. Oakley checkin’ out your ass!” Ben joked. Mr. Oakley was the high school janitor. He was old, probably in his mid to late 70s. He always tried to make eye contact and chat, but I was never having any of it.

I sighed and slowly walked back to my room. I was both nervous but also somewhat excited about the whole situation. I looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was soft, including my face, my body almost completely hairless. It was as if puberty had barely affected me. Even my voice was soft. My dad always made fun of me, saying I looked feminine and joked that he would introduce me as his daughter.

I kept tossing and turning all night, barely able to sleep. Friday rolled around and I could barely focus in class, waiting with great anticipation for 9 PM.

“You seem different today, Ash! Like you have a date coming up!” Ben teased. I blushed, “Hehe, nah…just nervous and want to get this over with. Like, I don’t even know what to do, how am I supposed to please this guy or whatever?!”

“You know what he wants, just do whatever he says for you to do. It’s 2 grand and you don’t have to work too hard, suck his dick so good he busts his nut early and that way you’ve worn him out and you can leave!” Josh suggested. This was actually good advice, I thought to myself.

I took a quick shower and slipped on shorts and a tank-top. It was time to get this done. I slipped on my flip-flops and hopped in my car. “Good luck, buddy! Swallow some cum for all of us!” Ben shouted. Embarrassed, I pulled out of our apartment complex and started driving. My phone was ringing, my parents were calling, no way I was going to answer that and I let it go to voicemail. The drive was painfully long, took almost 40 minutes to get to his damn exit. It was way out in the country, and it was most definitely not “right outside of town”, as he claimed. Halfway through the drive, I realized the tank top I was wearing was not mine and must have belonged to Ben, who was 6’2″ and wore a large. “Damn it!” I exclaimed in frustration as the top was far too big on me and the straps kept falling off my shoulder. “How did I not realize this? Oh well!”

It was rural out here, lots of farmland and no people, no buildings. “Where the fuck is this little red house?” I wondered out loud. After making the left at the stop sign, I had to drive another 5 miles before I saw a full forest with a driveway with a sign that said “PRIVATE DRIVEWAY NO TRESPASSING” on the left. I would have totally missed it had I been driving any faster than 30 miles per hour. The mailbox out in front said “Gary Barnes 1780”.

“How many people named Gary can there be out in these sticks?” I smirked as I turned in and drove up another quarter mile where I saw a little red house. The lights were on and outside in front of the garage there was an older 1980s model pick-up truck. It was night time and just a few minutes past 9 PM by the time I parked.

My legs trembled as I got out, dropping my keys as I struggled to compose myself. Before I left, my roommates suggested that I FaceTime them and keep my phone on silent while I was here. I FaceTimed them as requested. “Hey…so I’m here..fucker lives really far out, signal is real iffy out here.”

“H-hello? Ash? Can barely see you, bro. Keeps cutting out. Aight, keep your phone muted. Good luck!” Josh said while Ben popped up in the background making a silly face popping out his cheek while making a twisting motion with his hand, pretending to give a blowjob. “Funny, Ben, real funny. This is all your guys’ vize escort fault,” I said before muting the phone and going up the wooden steps. I could hear heavy footsteps and a door slamming shut inside as I rang the doorbell.

The door opened and an older man opened the door and smiled, “Hi there! Thanks for coming. I was worried you might not show!” Gary said as he shook my hand and motioned for me to enter. “How was the drive? Wasn’t too bad, right? Sorry, I wasn’t too clear on the directions, but glad you found me!”

I smiled shyly, “It wasn’t too bad, real rural out here and this place is real secluded.”

“Oh yes, the next house from here is about 3 miles up the road! I’ve lived here since 1974 and if you can believe it, not a damn thing has changed about this area!” Gary said.

“Huh…wow!” was all I could get out.

“Well you are certainly very attractive, Ash. You are a freshman, right? May I see your ID? I just want to make sure we’re not robbing the cradle, heh!”

I pulled out my license to show him. “Well damn, you aren’t wasting any time, are you? HAHAHA!” Gary laughed out loud. “Just turned 18 barely over a month ago and already taking advantage!”

I blushed. Gary was not a big man at all, in fact, he was only perhaps a couple of inches taller than me and appeared to be in shape. His demeanor put me at ease. “You drink, Ash?” He asked as he handed my license back to me.

“Mm-hmm!” I nodded, becoming a bit more comfortable. The house wasn’t very big at all, it had low ceilings which made it look even smaller. Couldn’t have been more than 1500 sq ft, and that was being generous. The living room area was small, a sofa was against a wall made of wood paneling. Across from that was a small TV on a stand. The blinds were old and mostly broken and were letting the moonlight through. A lamp was on in the corner. There was a small hallway with 2 door across from each other, one was closed and the other was the bathroom. The kitchen was separated from the living room by a counter.

Gary handed me a shot glass with gin as I sat down on the sofa. I downed it thirstily since we lived in a dry county and alcohol was tough to come by. “Good stuff, ain’t it?!” He asked with a smile.

“Oh yeah…heh we don’t get much in town,” I replied.

“Well. You’re here because I wanted to give me friend a special birthday present. His name is Carl and we celebrated his 75th birthday today. I told him that I have a present for him but that he would have to come over to pick it up. We’ve known each other our entire lives. His wife passed just a few months ago after a long battle with cancer and I wanted to cheer him up. They had been married for 50 years but she had been ill for the last 15 years,” Gary explained, his tone serious as he talked.

“He had told me that he had been curious about younger boys in your age group as it reminded him of when we served in Vietnam and the crazy things we did with each other back then. He had some action over the years which he kept secret from his family, but he really was itching to meet someone special. That’s where you come in. I showed him your photos and he immediately started salivating over you and couldn’t wait to meet you.”

I blushed again and smiled while looking down, “Oh, well that’s nice, haha! I’d love to meet him as well, I guess he’s been through a lot,” I said.

“He’s a big man, so don’t let his size frighten you. He knows exactly how to treat scared little damsels in distress like yourself and he will make you feel comfortable,” Gary re-assured me.

I swallowed hard as I felt that pit in my stomach once again, “O-ok.” I smiled but was still apprehensive.

“He’s waiting for you in that room, go knock on that door and I’ll let you two get to know each other and have some fun,” Gary said with a smirk.

I stood up slowly as my legs trembled. The shot of gin did nothing to alleviate the nervousness and anxiety. I clutched my phone with one hand as I made my way over to the door. I glanced quickly at the phone and although the video was choppy, I was able to make out a “thumbs up” sign from both Ben and Josh as I knocked on the door.

The door opened slowly and I stood in shock and awe as the man behind the door filled the doorway completely. “Holy shit! Ben’s 6’2, this guy makes him look like a dwarf!” I thought to myself.

“Hey there…Carl, nice to meet you finally,” the man put out a massive hand. He took my hand gingerly and kissed the back of it as he slowly pulled me into the room. The door closed behind me as Carl put his hand on my back and caressed it softly. He was the largest human being I’d ever seen with my own eyes in person. Easily towering 6’6 or taller, he carried his weight well. Certainly he didn’t look like he had washboard abs but he looked a healthy kind of thick. His bald head shone in the dim light. He wore thick framed glasses and he had a goatee outlining his thin lips. He was wearing gym shorts and a yahşihan escort tee shirt and socks. Each leg looked about as wide as my entire body. His arms were similarly thick, his body was covered in a mat of gray white hair.

“How are you doing? Ash, right?”

“Y-yes, sir,” I stammered, my eyes wide as I stared up at him. He let out a chuckle, “No need to be scared, I know I’m a giant, but I’m quite friendly, that is, unless someone gives me a reason to be angry.” He studied me up and down, “Did you shave or you naturally smooth?”

“Haha, no shaving…never really had much hair.”

“So you’re pretty smooth…everywhere?” Carl asked with a dirty grin. I blushed and looked away, although he caught me smiling. “I guess I’ll take that as a yes then, LOL!” He never took his eyes off of me, even when I wasn’t looking at him I sensed he was focused on me, especially my legs. He kept mouth breathing and letting out grunts of approval.

The room was surprisingly well-appointed, relative to the rest of the house. There was a queen size bed in the room and a loveseat was against a window. There were no blinds or curtains on the windows though, which I found interesting. I could see my car outside. “Have a seat, Ash,” Carl gestured.

His deep baritone voice was the exact opposite of my softer, higher pitched voice. My dad made fun of my voice as well, saying I sounded like a young girl, instead of a man. He would ridicule me in front of friends and family by imitating me, which infuriated me.

I sat down and he sat down next to me on the loveseat, his giant frame took up most of the space, but thankfully I was small enough to leave room. I had propped my phone up on a coffee table and was able to change the view so the back of the phone faced us.

“You just started school here, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Freshman, and you just turned 18?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You ever been with an old man before?”

The question made me pause as I was absorbing the reality of my present situation. I was about to sleep with this giant old man and it seemed increasingly less likely that this was going to be a simple blowjob, take the money and run scenario.

“N-no…sir..” I almost whispered “sir” as my voice quivered.

“Are you a virgin?”

“Hmm…yes? I’ve had oral sex but nothing else, really.”

Carl studied my face, he licked his lips and let out a short grunt, seemingly one of approval. He was resting his arm on the back of the loveseat, but then reached forward and gently touched my neck. I wasn’t attracted to older men, they just weren’t attractive to me, but I felt it with Carl. I could feel my dick getting harder and my eyes softened as they locked with his.

“You like me?”

“Mm-hmm, you’re cute,” I blurted out. I was embarrassed as it was uncharacteristic of me.

“You want to have sex with me? Give this old man a nice birthday present?”

I smiled and nearly whispered, “Yesss.”

Carl leaned over slowly and planted a kiss on my lips. “How was that?” He asked me in a very low tone, his eyes full of lust, his face barely an inch from mine.

I felt embarrassed as I looked down and smiled shyly before answering, “It was good.”

Carl leaned over again, but this time he began kissing me while holding the back of head and neck with his hand. I feigned resistance for just a moment before I succumbed to his long, thick tongue as it snaked all the way to the back of my throat. He reached over with his other hand to caress my face gently as he began lowering it to my throat and then to my chest, where it lingered. A soft whimper escaped from me as he gently touched my nipple through my shirt. He started breathing faster as he then slid his hand underneath my shirt and started rubbing the pad of his finger on my nipple.

The whimpers turned to muffled moans and gasps as I clenched my eyes shut and clutched the loveseat with my hands. He took his hand off the back of my head as he slowly pushed me back into the sofa, never taking his mouth off of me. His finger kept switching from one nipple to another and he would cup his hand under each breast while playing with them. The sensation was one I had never felt before as I began squirming and I spread my legs almost instinctively and draped my right leg over his.

He stopped kissing me. “Mmmm…I think I know how to get you to spread your legs!” He teased. I smiled as he leaned in to plant another kiss on my lips before showering me neck with kisses. He deliberately pulled the strap to my tank top off my shoulder, exposing my right breast. My nipple was brown and hard and was erect.

“Ohh yeah…ohhh would you look at that! Absolutely ravishing!” Carl’s eyes lit up as he lowered his face and rubbed his nose on my exposed nipple and kissed around the breast before he stuck out his tongue and began flicking my nipple with just the tip.

“Unnnhhhh! Ohhh gosh! Unnnnhhh!” I let out a throaty high pitched groan, my back arched as I grabbed the sofa with both hands. Carl wasn’t going to stop, he switched from flicking it with his tongue to gently nibbling on it with his teeth to sucking on my breast completely. I squirmed and thrashed around but I was anchored down by his massive left arm behind my upper back.

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