Beginning
The first text message arrived at two o'clock.
"Are you excited for tonight? We are. xoxo, the Heart Squad."
Number withheld.
Kurtzburg was less rattled about this one. It was his work phone. It wouldn't have been hard for the Heart Squad, whoever they were, to get it.
A picture followed. It was a close-up of the flame-haired model kissing the camera with the other three girls in the background behind her.
All four women were exceedingly attractive. They looked just like the women you saw on TV gliding around the swanky parties. Starlets. Celebs. 'It' girls. Ironic given that his own profession, which also shared the same two letters, was often at the opposite end of the spectrum when it came to glamour and social skills.
Then it clicked.
If they looked good enough to be TV people, they might be TV people. Which made this a... Valentine's Day prank? Yes, that sounded plausible. Probably one of the cheap'n'nasty reality TV shows. Kurtzburg had no idea which. He didn't watch much TV nowadays, preferring instead to spend his leisure time playing videogames or solving coding problems. He also had no idea why they'd singled him out.
Okay, he did. It was because he was fugly and surrounding a mumbling fugly with four bombshell beauties would make for appropriately cringe-inducing TV.
He had no idea why they'd singled him out in particular.
Oh well, that mystery would have to wait for later. He had to fix this bug before the end of the day.
Betts came back with the box of chocolates and a guilty expression. The tray was empty. For all of Betts's talk of sharing them with the whole office, Kurtzburg doubted the box had even left the QA section. He didn't mind. Given their suspect origin, he hadn't been planning on eating any of them.
* * * *
Kurtzburg got another text at three.
"We're going to have so much fun together."
You're going to be so disappointed, Kurtzburg thought, deleting the text.
Another at four.
"We'll be waiting for you outside after work."
You'll be waiting a long time then, Kurtzburg thought. Judging by how this bug fix was progressing, Kurtzburg didn't think he'd be finishing until at least eight. He wasn't too thrilled about it. He'd been looking forward to getting a few hours in on the new space Civ game, Master of the Crimson Nebula.
Later:
"It's almost time. We can hardly contain ourselves. Can you?"
The innuendo was obvious. Kurtzburg felt it in his loins anyway. Despite not being the most active in that department, he still retained some sexual desire. He really wished he lived in a world where four hot girls would whisk him of the street and take him out on a wild night of partying and debauchery.
This was not that world.
Kurtzburg was not a chump.
He was also too busy anyway.
He looked at the screen. Goddammit. Comment your goddamn code, people.
The messages stopped after five-thirty. The office had already emptied out. Kurtzburg was the only one left still tapping away at his keyboard.
He did feel a little sorry for whoever was behind these Valentine's Day fun and games. They must have realised something had gone wrong by now. That Kurtzburg wasn't coming out or had already given them the slip.
Sorry, hah. What was he thinking? They were likely only doing this to set him up for embarrassment... or maybe even worse.
Shame though. He would love a wild, sexy night with four hot, gorgeous women.
Yeah, right. Like that would have actually happened. He wasn't a chump.
He got up and trundled to the drinks machine to pick up a can of Red Bull. Caffeine makes code. He looked at the screen and focused on the problem at hand. It was trickier than he'd first thought, but he felt he understood the problem now. He reckoned he'd be able to fix it before leaving tonight.
He checked in the solution at 8:31. Half an hour later than he'd estimated, but not too bad. He got up and stretched. Most of the office was dark. Kurtzburg packed his things together, walked to the exit and switched off the lights. His stomach rumbled. Maybe he should have eaten some of those chocolates after all. He could pick up a kebab on the way home.
He walked down the stairs and out the front entrance. The night was a little nippy. He adjusted his coat and turned right. His bus stop was at the end of the street.
A shape flowed out of the darkness and stepped in front of him. It was the tall and busty flame-haired woman. She was still wearing nothing more than a longcoat over frilly pink lingerie.
to be continued...
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Friday, March 02, 2018
Monday, February 26, 2018
The Heart Squad (part 3)
Beginning
There was email awaiting Kurtzburg when he got back to his desk. Also not a surprise. There was always email waiting for him. One of them wasn't like the others, but Kurtzburg wasn't aware of that until he opened it up.
"Hi Piotr. We're the Heart Squad!"
It was followed by a picture of four extremely attractive and provocatively attired women sitting in the back of an expensive limo. They were all smiling at the camera and holding their arms out. Kurtzburg recognised one as the gorgeous flame-haired courier who'd delivered his card and chocolates this morning.
"We're so looking forward to making your Valentine's Day an unforgettable one."
Kurtzburg frowned. He was normally super-careful about which emails he opened. He was sure this had been another work email when he'd clicked on it.
He lifted his small round spectacles and rubbed his eyes. Must be tiredness. It had been a hard slog over the past couple of weeks to get the latest patch ready.
He became aware of someone standing next to his desk and hurriedly deleted the email.
He looked up and saw it was Leah Betts from the QA department. She was looking down at the chocolate box.
"Aren't you going to open them?" she asked.
"I dunno," he mumbled.
"You do know it's customary for employees to share their Valentine's chocolates with the rest of the office."
"It is?"
He tried to remember if anyone had ever brought chocolates around to his desk. Not that he would have remembered or even registered if they had.
He glanced back at his screen. Was that email with the picture of the four hot semi-naked women in the back of a limo gone yet? Yes. Thank fuck for that.
Not that he needed to worry. Betts was still staring down at the chocolate box. "Go on. Open it up," she said.
Kurtzburg shrugged. He opened it up. It was a box of chocolates. The cover was sickeningly saccharine. Kurtzburg flipped the lid. Yes, they were chocolates.
"Ooh, those are fancy," Betts said. "Have you got a posh bird you've been hiding from us?"
Her hand hovered over the tray like a vulture about to swoop.
Kurtzburg was reluctant to take one. Where had they come from? Why him? You heard stories. Food being tampered with.
Betts selected one she liked—a little brown nut from near the centre of the tray. She plucked it out and brought it up to her mouth.
"Wait!" Kurtzburg said.
Betts stopped, eyes opened wide in sudden surprise.
"I don't know where they're from," Kurtzburg said.
Betts's frozen expression of surprise thawed out into a contemptuous grin.
"They're Valentine's Day chocolates. You're not supposed to know who they're from."
She rolled her eyes and popped the chocolate into her mouth. She chewed. Her eyes widened.
"Ooh, these are yummy," she said. "It tastes like... ooh." A hand involuntarily drifted down to her crotch. Her cheeks reddened.
"Mandy, you have to try one of these," she called back to the adjacent QA section.
She looked back at the box with naked avarice.
"You look busy," she said. "You want me to share them around the office for you?"
Kurtzburg mumble-grunted a yes and Betts went away, taking the box of chocolates with her.
Then his attention was caught by something on his monitor. A heart-shaped balloon floated to the top of the screen and popped to reveal the word, "Tonight." A lipstick kiss flashed on the bottom right of the screen and was followed by, "The Heart Squad."
Kurtzburg's stomach lurched. Had that email downloaded a virus onto his machine?
He went through a series of diagnostics and found nothing untoward. He rubbed his eyes again. He couldn't have imagined it, could he?
And what did they mean by "tonight"?
* * * *
The first text message arrived at two o'clock.
to be continued...
(Also, Monmusu Quest: Paradox [part 2] playthrough to resumetomorrow Wednesday. One was more ready than the other so I flipped the days).
There was email awaiting Kurtzburg when he got back to his desk. Also not a surprise. There was always email waiting for him. One of them wasn't like the others, but Kurtzburg wasn't aware of that until he opened it up.
"Hi Piotr. We're the Heart Squad!"
It was followed by a picture of four extremely attractive and provocatively attired women sitting in the back of an expensive limo. They were all smiling at the camera and holding their arms out. Kurtzburg recognised one as the gorgeous flame-haired courier who'd delivered his card and chocolates this morning.
"We're so looking forward to making your Valentine's Day an unforgettable one."
Kurtzburg frowned. He was normally super-careful about which emails he opened. He was sure this had been another work email when he'd clicked on it.
He lifted his small round spectacles and rubbed his eyes. Must be tiredness. It had been a hard slog over the past couple of weeks to get the latest patch ready.
He became aware of someone standing next to his desk and hurriedly deleted the email.
He looked up and saw it was Leah Betts from the QA department. She was looking down at the chocolate box.
"Aren't you going to open them?" she asked.
"I dunno," he mumbled.
"You do know it's customary for employees to share their Valentine's chocolates with the rest of the office."
"It is?"
He tried to remember if anyone had ever brought chocolates around to his desk. Not that he would have remembered or even registered if they had.
He glanced back at his screen. Was that email with the picture of the four hot semi-naked women in the back of a limo gone yet? Yes. Thank fuck for that.
Not that he needed to worry. Betts was still staring down at the chocolate box. "Go on. Open it up," she said.
Kurtzburg shrugged. He opened it up. It was a box of chocolates. The cover was sickeningly saccharine. Kurtzburg flipped the lid. Yes, they were chocolates.
"Ooh, those are fancy," Betts said. "Have you got a posh bird you've been hiding from us?"
Her hand hovered over the tray like a vulture about to swoop.
Kurtzburg was reluctant to take one. Where had they come from? Why him? You heard stories. Food being tampered with.
Betts selected one she liked—a little brown nut from near the centre of the tray. She plucked it out and brought it up to her mouth.
"Wait!" Kurtzburg said.
Betts stopped, eyes opened wide in sudden surprise.
"I don't know where they're from," Kurtzburg said.
Betts's frozen expression of surprise thawed out into a contemptuous grin.
"They're Valentine's Day chocolates. You're not supposed to know who they're from."
She rolled her eyes and popped the chocolate into her mouth. She chewed. Her eyes widened.
"Ooh, these are yummy," she said. "It tastes like... ooh." A hand involuntarily drifted down to her crotch. Her cheeks reddened.
"Mandy, you have to try one of these," she called back to the adjacent QA section.
She looked back at the box with naked avarice.
"You look busy," she said. "You want me to share them around the office for you?"
Kurtzburg mumble-grunted a yes and Betts went away, taking the box of chocolates with her.
Then his attention was caught by something on his monitor. A heart-shaped balloon floated to the top of the screen and popped to reveal the word, "Tonight." A lipstick kiss flashed on the bottom right of the screen and was followed by, "The Heart Squad."
Kurtzburg's stomach lurched. Had that email downloaded a virus onto his machine?
He went through a series of diagnostics and found nothing untoward. He rubbed his eyes again. He couldn't have imagined it, could he?
And what did they mean by "tonight"?
* * * *
The first text message arrived at two o'clock.
to be continued...
(Also, Monmusu Quest: Paradox [part 2] playthrough to resume
Friday, February 23, 2018
The Heart Squad (part 2)
Part 1
Kurtzburg didn't get around to opening the card until after he'd cleared all of the morning's urgent tasks. Not that it shed any more light on the mystery.
It was one of those standard giant-size Valentine's Day cards you could pick up in any high-street shop. Kurtzburg's name was on the cover of the plain red envelope, written in elegant handwriting. Kurtzburg didn't know of any other Piotr Kurtzburgs in the company, so it must be for him. For whatever reason.
"Happy Valentine's Day from the Heart Squad," was written on the inside in the same elegant handwriting.
Kurtzburg had no idea who or what the Heart Squad was.
Someone had drawn cute little cartoon bats all over the inside of the card. Some of them were carrying pink hearts. The ones that weren't had long tails—that looked more like devil tails—looped around in the outline of a heart.
Maybe he had a secret admirer.
Kurtzburg nearly laughed out loud at the thought.
He was no catch. Even by the not-that-high standards of the typical IT male, Kurtzburg was distinctly below average. He knew his nickname around the office was "moleman." His co-workers didn't seem to care that he knew either.
He supposed it was different. At school they used to call him Penfold after the character in the Danger Mouse cartoons.
It didn't bother Kurtzburg all that much. Maybe at some point in the past, but he'd long grown out of letting it upset him. You couldn't help what you were born with, as far as he was concerned. There were a few people in the office he didn't like, but he just tended to avoid them. As for the rest, they were fine. They let him get on with his work and he let them get on with theirs. The only time they interacted with Kurtzburg was when they wanted something done. This was also fine with Kurtzburg. That's how work worked.
Now there was this card.
Kurtzburg would have put it down to a prank played by Dave Gregg, except Gregg had left the company two years ago. Foxtrot Tech had been a different place then and 'Greggsy' was the office prankster—a larger than life character with a big mouth. Kurtzburg hadn't got on that well with him. Gregg was a massive extrovert. Kurtzburg was a massive introvert. There were clashes.
That was then. Times moved on. The kind of 'hijinks' Gregg used to get up to, especially with the female staff, were no longer tolerated in the modern workplace.
Kurtzburg turned the card over. There were four glossy lipstick impressions of kisses on the bottom left corner. They'd been added later rather than printed on the card. Written over them in the same elegant handwriting were the words:
"Look forward to tonight."
This was just like one of the 'jokes' Greggsy liked to pull.
But not anymore.
Not since that business.
* * * *
That business had involved Roberta Ross. Kurtzburg was dragged into her office just before lunch.
"Care to explain that little incident this morning?" she asked.
Ross was all cold angles and hidden landmines. She was a short, mousy-haired woman that favoured power suits despite running the traditionally laidback IT department. Kurtzburg respected her professionalism and efficiency, but he couldn’t ever bring himself to like her. There was a furious intensity about her, as if she was always a couple of countdown ticks away from an explosion, and Kurtzburg didn't want to be anywhere near the blast radius.
"I don’t know," he mumbled. "A mix-up, I think. Someone set up a prank and got the wrong man... person."
Ross fixed him with steely grey eyes.
"I don't know or care what you and your friends get up to outside of work, but if they are your friends you should let them know the next time they pull a stunt like this it will be you that has to bear the consequences."
Ross turned back to her monitor.
"The latest patch is running late. I need that bugfix done before you leave tonight."
Meeting over.
Ross had joined the company as a junior programmer three years ago and had risen meteorically to the position of department head. It was her complaint of sexual harassment that had resulted in Dave Gregg's termination.
It hadn't come as much of a surprise. Greggsy had always been a little too free with his mouth around the female staff. Even freer with his hands. That kind of behaviour was no longer tolerated.
There had been a similar controversy involving Ross and another senior developer, Jake Packman, about a year later. Unwelcome advances. Hands touching parts of the anatomy hands should not touch.
That had been a surprise. Like Kurtzburg, Packman was a quiet person who kept to themselves. Unlike Kurtzburg, Packman was married and seemed happy with domestic life.
You never could tell with the quiet ones, the office had gossiped.
Packman had 'resigned'.
Kurtzburg turned off the voice-recording app on his smartphone as he left Ross's office.
With Gregg it hadn't been a surprise. Packman, however...
* * * *
There was email awaiting Kurtzburg when he got back to his desk.
to be continued...
Kurtzburg didn't get around to opening the card until after he'd cleared all of the morning's urgent tasks. Not that it shed any more light on the mystery.
It was one of those standard giant-size Valentine's Day cards you could pick up in any high-street shop. Kurtzburg's name was on the cover of the plain red envelope, written in elegant handwriting. Kurtzburg didn't know of any other Piotr Kurtzburgs in the company, so it must be for him. For whatever reason.
"Happy Valentine's Day from the Heart Squad," was written on the inside in the same elegant handwriting.
Kurtzburg had no idea who or what the Heart Squad was.
Someone had drawn cute little cartoon bats all over the inside of the card. Some of them were carrying pink hearts. The ones that weren't had long tails—that looked more like devil tails—looped around in the outline of a heart.
Maybe he had a secret admirer.
Kurtzburg nearly laughed out loud at the thought.
He was no catch. Even by the not-that-high standards of the typical IT male, Kurtzburg was distinctly below average. He knew his nickname around the office was "moleman." His co-workers didn't seem to care that he knew either.
He supposed it was different. At school they used to call him Penfold after the character in the Danger Mouse cartoons.
It didn't bother Kurtzburg all that much. Maybe at some point in the past, but he'd long grown out of letting it upset him. You couldn't help what you were born with, as far as he was concerned. There were a few people in the office he didn't like, but he just tended to avoid them. As for the rest, they were fine. They let him get on with his work and he let them get on with theirs. The only time they interacted with Kurtzburg was when they wanted something done. This was also fine with Kurtzburg. That's how work worked.
Now there was this card.
Kurtzburg would have put it down to a prank played by Dave Gregg, except Gregg had left the company two years ago. Foxtrot Tech had been a different place then and 'Greggsy' was the office prankster—a larger than life character with a big mouth. Kurtzburg hadn't got on that well with him. Gregg was a massive extrovert. Kurtzburg was a massive introvert. There were clashes.
That was then. Times moved on. The kind of 'hijinks' Gregg used to get up to, especially with the female staff, were no longer tolerated in the modern workplace.
Kurtzburg turned the card over. There were four glossy lipstick impressions of kisses on the bottom left corner. They'd been added later rather than printed on the card. Written over them in the same elegant handwriting were the words:
"Look forward to tonight."
This was just like one of the 'jokes' Greggsy liked to pull.
But not anymore.
Not since that business.
* * * *
That business had involved Roberta Ross. Kurtzburg was dragged into her office just before lunch.
"Care to explain that little incident this morning?" she asked.
Ross was all cold angles and hidden landmines. She was a short, mousy-haired woman that favoured power suits despite running the traditionally laidback IT department. Kurtzburg respected her professionalism and efficiency, but he couldn’t ever bring himself to like her. There was a furious intensity about her, as if she was always a couple of countdown ticks away from an explosion, and Kurtzburg didn't want to be anywhere near the blast radius.
"I don’t know," he mumbled. "A mix-up, I think. Someone set up a prank and got the wrong man... person."
Ross fixed him with steely grey eyes.
"I don't know or care what you and your friends get up to outside of work, but if they are your friends you should let them know the next time they pull a stunt like this it will be you that has to bear the consequences."
Ross turned back to her monitor.
"The latest patch is running late. I need that bugfix done before you leave tonight."
Meeting over.
Ross had joined the company as a junior programmer three years ago and had risen meteorically to the position of department head. It was her complaint of sexual harassment that had resulted in Dave Gregg's termination.
It hadn't come as much of a surprise. Greggsy had always been a little too free with his mouth around the female staff. Even freer with his hands. That kind of behaviour was no longer tolerated.
There had been a similar controversy involving Ross and another senior developer, Jake Packman, about a year later. Unwelcome advances. Hands touching parts of the anatomy hands should not touch.
That had been a surprise. Like Kurtzburg, Packman was a quiet person who kept to themselves. Unlike Kurtzburg, Packman was married and seemed happy with domestic life.
You never could tell with the quiet ones, the office had gossiped.
Packman had 'resigned'.
Kurtzburg turned off the voice-recording app on his smartphone as he left Ross's office.
With Gregg it hadn't been a surprise. Packman, however...
* * * *
There was email awaiting Kurtzburg when he got back to his desk.
to be continued...
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
The Heart Squad (part 1)
This the story I wanted to enter into Literotica's Valentine's Day short story competition. I didn't finish it in time and it isn't finished now. I seem to have a problem finishing stories at the moment, which is rather vexing. So, I'm going to do as what some nice soul in the comments suggested - start posting what I have as a serial here in the hope that will provide the impetus to get the rest done. The first parts will be pretty slow with uneven breaks as this was originally intended as a 5-6K word short story rather than a serial with classic cliff-hanger hooks.
As a quick aside, I'm not going to abandon my current playthrough series of Monmusu Quest: Paradox [part 2]. Currently my write-up has caught up to where I am in the game and I need a bit of breathing space to get ahead again. If all goes to plan I'll get back to it next week and run it alongside this.
The Heart Squad (part 1)
Piotr Kurtzburg didn't expect to receive cards and chocolates on Valentine's Day.
He certainly didn't expect to receive cards and chocolates hand-delivered by a statuesque bombshell of a model.
Her visit caused quite a stir in the office. A six-foot-tall, jaw-droppingly beautiful woman walking around in nothing more than a longcoat and sexy lingerie was not a sight the average British office worker expected to see on your typical miserable and overcast February morning.
"Happy Valentine's Day from the Heart Squad," she said to Kurtzburg before handing over an oversized card and heart-shaped box of chocolates.
Dumbfounded, Kurtzburg just accepted them. He was blown away by her appearance.
One. She was really tall. Taller than Kurtzburg's five-ten.
Two. She was still perfectly proportioned despite her height. She had a perfect feminine physique—full hips, fuller chest, and long long legs. She also had big big hair. It was red—flame not ginger—and complexly coiffured in a style Kurtzburg hadn't seen since the kitsch sci-fi films of the sixties. Her smile revealed perfect white teeth.
Three. She was clearly wearing nothing more than underwear beneath her longcoat. It was pink, frilly and sheer enough for her nipples to be visible beneath.
That alone should have been enough to have her stopped long before reaching Kurtzburg's desk. Except...
Four. She had overwhelming presence. This was the hardest to explain. Not only did she look absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, she also had this aura that flooded out of her and subsumed all around her. She seemed the sort that had the chutzpah—and looks—to blag her way into anywhere.
What Kurtzburg couldn't understand was why she was here for him.
When he'd finally gathered enough presence of mind to stop gawping at her like an open-mouthed yokel, he said, "I think there's been some mistake."
"Are you Piotr Kurtzburg?" she asked.
Kurtzburg gave her a slight nod of affirmation.
"Then there's been no mistake. Happy Valentine's Day."
For one awful moment, Kurtzburg thought she was going to perform a striptease for him right there and then and in front of the entire office. Under other circumstances, Kurtzburg might have been okay with this. He was your typical sex-starved male nerd and her body was extraordinary. But not here. Not with the whole office watching. Not with his cheeks almost burning as brightly as her hair.
Instead she dipped her head forwards and kissed him on each cheek, continental style. On the last kiss her head slid on until her sumptuous lips were level with his ear.
"See you later," she whispered.
Then she turned on the spot and walked away, leaving a very befuddled Kurtzburg standing there with his mouth open and holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates. He was still surrounded in a cloud of her perfume. Faint traces of it stayed with him for the rest of the morning.
Sunday, May 07, 2017
"New" Story up on Literotica - "Exile"
Okay, so it's not exactly a "new" story, as "Exile" was the second story in A Succubus Freedom.
I'm not planning on posting the other exclusive stories from the collections anytime soon. I just like this one and thought it could do with being read by a wider audience.
It was my attempt to write a more literary erotic horror piece like you might find in one of the more upmarket horror anthologies, and I think (caveat: writers are notoriously bad at judging their own work) I pulled it off.
Anyway, read it for yourself.
I like having the odd piece like this around just to prove I can actually write. I imagine the score and comments on Literotica will remind me why I shouldn't write this type of story too often! :)
It is, however, not a new story, and I know some of you are antsy to see fresh succubus smut. There is, however, good news on this front. The writing engines are up and running again. Last week I rattled off an 8,000 word story I'd been stuck on for over a year. More info to come next week.
(Hint: Sandwiched by)
I'm not planning on posting the other exclusive stories from the collections anytime soon. I just like this one and thought it could do with being read by a wider audience.
It was my attempt to write a more literary erotic horror piece like you might find in one of the more upmarket horror anthologies, and I think (caveat: writers are notoriously bad at judging their own work) I pulled it off.
Anyway, read it for yourself.
I like having the odd piece like this around just to prove I can actually write. I imagine the score and comments on Literotica will remind me why I shouldn't write this type of story too often! :)
It is, however, not a new story, and I know some of you are antsy to see fresh succubus smut. There is, however, good news on this front. The writing engines are up and running again. Last week I rattled off an 8,000 word story I'd been stuck on for over a year. More info to come next week.
(Hint: Sandwiched by)
Friday, December 04, 2015
New Story: "A Trial in Vennington"
Should I do a foreword for this one? I suppose I must.
This is the #GamerGate story, the story I originally wanted to enter into Literotica's Halloween contest, but didn't get finished in time. This turned out to be a good thing as the original had some characters and aspects that weren't working.
I intended the story as a parody (with sex!) of another story I read on the internet that began with the same premise, but took a different path with vastly different characters. How I've treated the #GamerGate controversy might ruffle a few feathers, but these are feathers that needed to be ruffled as far as I'm concerned. While the scenario and characters are intentionally far-fetched (the presence of an extra-dimensional sex demon should be a giveaway!), I did want to sneak a few serious points in. I hope they don't detract from the other fun and sexy stuff too much.
Oh, and because it references #GamerGate and SJWs, there's a chance some of you might be new readers unfamiliar with my other work. If you're wondering why the story suddenly lurches into hardcore succubus smut, well that's what I write and what I'm known for. If gratuitous descriptions of sex make you feel uncomfortable, now would be a good time to click the back button on your internet browser. Same goes for anyone under 18, you really shouldn't be here right now! :)
Feel free to leave any criticism in the comments. Even call me rude names if you feel strongly enough. But be warned, I'm a bit of a masochist, so any nasty insults will likely turn me on... sexually. ;)
A Trial in Vennington
"Bring him out!"
Gary Garrett quaked beneath a black hood. His hands were bound together behind his back by some kind of plastic tie.
Who were they? Al Qaeda? ISIS? The IRA?
Was the IRA even a thing anymore?
What did they want with him? He was a nobody. He worked as a community manager for one of the smaller DoTA-type online games. The job didn't pay particularly well, but it allowed Gary to work in an area he loved.
He'd been walking home from the bus stop when a van had pulled up alongside him, masked men had jumped out, shoved a hood over his head and bundled him inside. He hadn't even got a glimpse of their faces. After a short drive Gary had been shoved out and left in a small room with a bare concrete floor for what seemed like hours.
Gary was pulled, roughly, to his feet and led outside. The hood was taken off his head and almost took his spectacles with it. They snagged on the rough fabric, but only slid a few centimetres up his forehead before dropping back into place on the bridge of his nose.
It was night time. A blood-red moon hung above them in a cloudless sky. He was standing in the yard of what appeared to be a disused farm. The surrounding buildings were ramshackle and moss-encrusted, as if the farm had been in a state of disuse for some time. The yard was lit up by a ring of burning torches.
Gary didn't know what to make of his captors. They definitely weren't ISIS. He counted seven of them—two women and five men, although it was harder to determine with the men as all five wore dark clothing and black bandanas over the lower half of their faces. They looked more like student activists than terrorists. The two women made no attempt to hide their faces. One looked an obvious radical student feminist—right down to her bright red hair and horn-rimmed spectacles. The other girl also had dyed hair—light blue in her case—but had chosen more eclectic attire. She wore a long white leather trench coat and looked like a mashup between gothic spy and urban warlock.
"Do you know why you're here?" the woman with red hair asked.
Gary shook his head. He looked around. Other than the blue-haired girl in the white trench coat his captors looked like the same sort of people he'd seen on YouTube videos of campus demonstrations, the sort of people that claimed to be liberal and yet pulled fire alarms and blocked entrances to prevent people they didn't like giving talks at universities. It couldn't be them, though. Those campus activists might be extremists, but surely they weren't extreme enough to yank people off streets in broad daylight.
"You, Gary Garrett, are to face trial for your crimes against feminism," Red informed him.
Whaaat? Gary gawped at her. He would have laughed out loud at the silliness of it had he not been so terrified he'd already wet himself.
"You are a member of GamerGate, that vile online misogynist hate movement devoted to driving women out of the games industry and off the internet."
Gary opened his mouth to speak.
Red pushed out a hand to interrupt. "Don't try to deny it," she said sharply. "Your Twitter handle is @TheMagnificentGGG and you post on Reddit as GaimerGaryGarrett. We have your posting history for the last six months. We know you were at the GamerGate meetup last night."
"I wasn't going to deny it," Gary said. "Yes, I'm pro-GG, but it's not what—"
Red held up a hand. "Stop!" she said.
She looked around at the other goons with a smug smile on her lips.
"Anyone want to finish for him?"
"Actually, it's about ethics in videogames journalism," one of the goons mocked in a silly voice. It was followed by snerks and sniggers from the others.
Yeah, he'd walked right into that one, Gary thought.
"I haven't harassed anyone," he said. "I only started posting in support of the tag because I was fed up with the gaming press constantly shitting on its audience."
"Aw diddums," Red said. "Did the straight white man with all the privilege in the world get his fee-fees hurt?"
"Um, you do realise this is kidnapping," Gary said. "I'm pretty sure that's still a fairly serious crime. You could all go to prison for this."
Red's face twisted in a snarl. "We do not recognise or acknowledge your patriarchal system of abuse and oppression."
Gary watched with a wide-eyed mix of both astonishment and horror.
They were mad. Not just extreme. Mad.
He'd had the misfortune of running into people like this on the internet before. Everyone called them Social Justice Warriors, or SJWs for short. It was a label meant to be ironic on both counts. They were only interested in social justice in as much as it gave them a convenient club to bash people with and an equally convenient shield to deflect criticism when others tried to call out their bullying and harassment. Thankfully—like the Keyboard Warrior meme they were descended from—their 'warrioring' was mostly confined to getting angry and shouting at people on social media. Until now...
Someone gave Gary a solid kick to the back of his legs. He buckled and fell down to his knees.
"GamerGate has gone on too long," Red said. "The authorities won't do anything about it, so we've been forced to take matters into our own hands. Your harassment and women hating must stop."
"But I don't hate women," Gary protested. "There are two girls on my regular League of Legends team. One of them even taught me how to get good."
Someone hit him on the back of his head. It was an open-handed slap rather than a full-blooded punch, but it still rattled his brain inside his skull.
"We do not use girl!" Red roared. "Girl is a diminutive used to deny full-grown women the respect they deserve."
"Um, she's like fifteen," Gary said. "And she hates anti-GG even more than I do."
He was struck again. This time it was a closed fist. It knocked his head to the side and left his glasses resting lopsidedly on the bridge of his nose.
"You deserve this, GamerGate scum," Red said.
"I haven't harassed anyone!" Gary wailed.
Red wagged a finger at him. "There's no point lying, Gary Garrett. We did our research." She picked up a tablet computer from the low wall next to her. "Your history of crimes against women goes back further than GamerGate. We know all about the woman you raped back at university."
This. Again? Inwardly he sighed. Was he ever going to be free of it?
"If you've read your research you'll know I didn't rape her," he said.
"I'm sure you didn't," Red snarked. "I'm sure it was all a big misunderstanding and you really thought she'd consented to having sex with you."
"No, I didn't rape her as I wasn't in the same part of the city where the assault took place. I was playing Magic in the student union bar all night. There's CCTV footage. It's in the court documents and why the case was thrown out. You'd know this if you'd read them instead of just the newspaper headlines."
It wouldn't matter.
Red scowled and put the tablet aside. "I don't need to read them to know they're the typical lies put out by the patriarchy."
It was the same with every SJW he'd attempted to reason with online. The moment they were given a fact or piece of evidence that didn't agree with their carefully cultivated and blinkered worldview it was all block, block, block. He might as well debate a brick.
This wasn't online. Neither was it debate.
They'd kidnapped him in broad daylight. If they were okay with that, what else were they okay with...?
"We've heard enough," Red said. "You are guilty and now it's time to pass sentence."
She picked up another object. It reflected the light from the burning torches. The blood drained from Gary's face as he realised it was a wickedly-sharp scalpel.
ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck
Something broke in Gary as he realised they were going to go as far as his worst fears. He started babbling.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll leave GamerGate. I'll stop posting on Reddit. I'll delete my Twitter account."
He didn't want to die. Not over something as trivial and stupid as this.
He tried to stand up. Somebody stamped on the back of his calf.
"Please don't kill me. I'm sorry."
His stomach convulsed and he threw up. He lifted his head and saw the contemptuous eyes of the activists all around him.
"Too late," Red said. "GamerGate's reign of oppression has lasted for over a year now. But no longer. For you, GamerGate is over. It ends tonight."
Those last three words triggered something in Gary. He didn't know where the laughter came from. They were going to kill him. That was nothing to laugh about, yet laugh he did. Maybe it was the absurdity of the situation. Maybe it was a memory of the mockery a prominent anti-GGer had received when they'd used those exact same three words on Twitter. First it was a nervous giggle, then a chuckle, and finally an uncontrollable guffaw welling up from the depths of his belly.
Someone punched him from the left.
He kept laughing.
Another punch came in from the right. Gary went over. His glasses left his face and bounced off the grit in front of him.
He couldn't stop giggling, even as they hit him.
Fuck, he hadn't taken a beating like this since some bullies had gone after him one time in secondary school. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and bawl his eyes out until someone in authority came by.
No. Fuck it.
Gary spat out a bloodied tooth.
It hadn't worked back then and it wouldn't work for adult him either.
He awkwardly levered himself back to his knees and stared defiantly at Red.
"I'm laughing because you're ridiculous. You disrupt meetings with bomb threats, harass people off social media, even get people fired for comments taken out of context, and you say we're the hate group. Look at you. Even now you probably still think you're the victim in all this even as your goons literally knock my teeth out.
"You're losing. You took advantage of people's basic empathy and decency, but now that sympathy is running out. They're seeing through your screen of diversity, trigger warnings and safe spaces to see you for what you really are—another extremist authoritarian group that wants the power to dictate what other people can say, think and create.
"And, like all extremist authoritarian groups that don't get what they want, you fall back on intimidation and violence. In your twisted worldview I bet you don't even think you're doing anything wrong. No bad tactics only bad targets, am I right?
"Well guess what. That's not how it works in the real world, not in the eyes of the law. You're going to be put away for a very long time for this."
He stared from activist to activist. He doubted any of them were past college age.
"All of you."
He lingered last on Red. She was furious. This wasn't part of the script. He was supposed to huddle up on the ground and beg for mercy from their righteous judgment.
Fuck her. He'd been forced to bow to bullies before. No more, and not to ones as pathetic as this.
Red looked so pissed Gary thought she might charge over and stab him right there and then. Her companion in the white trench coat put a hand on her arm.
"Let him rage against imaginary persecution. He is in a higher court now," she said.
Red calmed down. "Your defence has been noted and rejected as the usual paranoid ramblings of chan trash. Sentence will be carried out." Red gave Gary a spiteful smile. "And for you the punishment will be deliciously ironic."
Skinny Blue, the blue-haired girl with the white trench coat, stepped forwards. Evidently it was her turn in the spotlight.
"We're not going to kill you," she said. Her thin lips were curled up in a smile Gary didn't like in the slightest. "The demon will do that."
Gary turned to look in the direction Skinny Blue indicated. His vision was blurry without his glasses. He saw a woman leaning casually against the crumbling wall of a dilapidated outbuilding. She was dressed in an outfit that had it existed in a game the SJWs would have attacked it for being problematic. It consisted of lots of tight black PVC that displayed more flesh than it covered, including a generous amount of her quite spectacular cleavage.
Demon? She looked more like a kinky adult film actress or professional dominatrix. The woman looked a little bored by the proceedings, as if she'd seen it all before and was eager to get it over and done with so she could collect her pay check.
Had the SJWs hired a sex worker... to what? Prank him? Rough him up, maybe even sexually abuse him in some twisted idea of payback?
Another student activist with a bandana obscuring the lower half of their face entered the open area. They carried an inflated airbed. They dragged it over to Gary and plonked it down amongst the weeds and gravel.
"Where's Anthony?" Red asked.
The man shrugged.
"I thought he wanted to see this," Red said.
See what? Gary thought.
They'd piqued the interest of the woman dressed as a dominatrix. She detached from the wall and approached them.
"Have you heard of succubi?" Skinny Blue asked. "In ancient times they were described as demons from hell that lured men into sexual congress in order to weaken and sometimes even kill them. Of course, our knowledge has advanced since those superstitious times. We now know demons are entities that inhabit an adjacent plane of existence to our own."
Gary knew what a succubus was. He'd played enough computer RPGs.
The woman approaching had horns, wings and a tail. What he first took to be a dominatrix outfit took on a more sinister, occult tinge.
He also knew demons were fiction. This was cosplay. Superbly put together cosplay, right down to the Morrigan-esque bat wings sticking out of the side of her head, but still cosplay.
"Demonology is a science nowadays," Skinny Blue said, "albeit an exclusive and carefully hidden one. Strip away the silly superstitions and pare the rituals right down to their core components and it's not all that dissimilar from computer programming. Carry out the correct set of instructions and it's possible to bring one of those entities into our plane of existence and bind them to your will."
The 'demon' walked up to Gary. Up close Gary's vision was less blurry and he saw she had both stunning looks and figure. She had high, pointed cheekbones and while her face was model-perfect, it was also very pale and possessed an aristocratic severity. Her long black hair was swept back and tied up in an austere ponytail. A PVC corset cinched her waist and emphasised the curves of her chest and ass. It looked both sexy and painful.
She nudged the airbed with her foot. "A little basic, but it will suffice." Her accent was clipped and full of Received Pronunciation—posh totty with hints of a filthy nature underneath.
She loosened her corset and turned the top down until her substantial breasts popped out. They were large, firm and perfectly round. Gary hadn't seen anything like them outside of anime—and that was supposed to be unrealistic!
"Shall we begin?" she asked.
"Oh, the myths were right about one thing," Skinny Blue said. "Succubi are like vampires. They feed off the energy given out during sexual intercourse, often depleting their victims entirely. That's why we don't need to worry about the authorities. When they find your body, your death will be put down to a tragic and untimely heart attack. Extradimensional sex vampires are extremely handy in that regard."
Red stepped up and cut the ties binding Gary's wrists.
"The irony is perfect," she said. "You misogynist shitlords idolise the unrealistic forms of beauty that oppress real women. It's fitting your end will come from a living embodiment of your own puerile masturbation fantasies."
Gary didn't know what to say. They were totally fucking loopy.
He looked at the semi-naked woman in the PVC bondage outfit. Was she in on this lunacy?
They had to be trolling. Yeah, that's what it was—dress a Barbie-doll model up in a stripperific dominatrix outfit and scare the shit out of him to make the point they weren't just sex objects.
Top kek, SJWs. You got me. You do have a sense of humour, who'd have thought it. Can we go home now? he thought.
It was then he noticed his knees were knocking together. Shaking. Trembling. It was like a chill creeping up from the ground. It slithered up his legs in gelid ropes and crawled up his spine on icy fingers. The sensation of dread rustled through the hairs on the back of his neck. His teeth started chattering even though the early October night wasn't that chilly.
This wasn't cold. It was an atavistic sensation of pure terror—an ancestral memory from back when humanity was small and fluffy and the nights were filled with teeth and claws. Black dread radiated out of the figure standing before him in pulsing waves.
He noticed her eyes, or rather the lack of them. At first he thought they were hidden in shadow, now he saw they were black wells sunk into an infinite abyss. Her horns, wings and tail were not cosplay accessories, they were the real thing. The spade tip of her tail flicked back and forth like a menacing snake.
All his senses screamed at him. This... thing... should not exist on this physical plane. Its wrongness caused his guts to twist and knot inside him, as if they wanted to turn themselves inside out.
Gary wanted to run. It was an overpowering instinct that wrapped talons around his primitive hindbrain and squeezed.
The demon reached over and caressed his right cheek. Black static crackled between nails as long as claws. Her cold black lips turned up at the corner in an equally cold smile.
Gary couldn't move. His legs were locked and shivering. He might as well have been frozen to the floor with great sheets of black ice.
"Look at how terrified he is," one of the masked goons said.
"It's because he's never seen a real woman's tits in the flesh before," another laughed.
Did they not see it? Did they not see what she—it—was?
"Mmm, the smell of your fear is delicious," the demon said. Her voice had picked up jagged cadences, like rusty metal scraping together.
Gary's bladder let go. Warm urine flooded his underpants and flowed down his legs. The demon reached down and cupped a hand beneath his sodden genitals. She brought it back to her face and licked her palm with a tongue as black as a bruise. She wrapped equally black lips around a long finger and gave it a suggestive suck.
"Mmm, tastes delicious as well," she purred.
Her face was a perfect doll's mask—as pale as porcelain with two abyssal pits for eyes. Gary tried to avoid meeting her stare. He feared being dragged into those dark wells and lost forever in endless darkness and cold.
"Where is the fire I heard earlier?" the demon asked.
"F-f-f-fu-fu-fu..."
Gary's chattering jaw wouldn't allow him to shape the retort. Instead he stared at the demon with sullen defiance.
She chuckled. Her lips, sensual and plump despite being as black as plague buboes, turned up at the corners in the facsimile of a smile.
"That's more like it," she said. "I like to see a little fight."
And then, as if it'd been turned off by a switch, the paralysing sensation of dread locking up Gary's bones was gone. It was as if what was visible of the demoness was a shadow behind a shrouding curtain. The others saw the silhouette of a beautiful woman. He'd been permitted a glimpse between the curtains and saw what really lay on the other side. But only for a moment, before the veils swished back across and the shadow of a beautiful woman returned.
Gary blinked. The feeling of overwhelming dread had vanished so quickly and completely he wondered if it had ever been real in the first place. Maybe it was just a temporary blip of brain chemistry brought on by the stress of the situation.
The girl smiled at him. His gaze roamed all over her stunning figure. She really did look like an anime succubus given flesh, improbable proportions and all. His gaze kept sticking on the perfect round globes of her tits. It triggered a primal sense of longing in him he hadn't felt since he was an awkward teen and completely clueless about love and sex.
Wait. Wasn't she a demon? She had horns. And wings. And that was definitely a tail swinging behind the delightful curves of her rump.
Gary's brow wrinkled.
And then his gaze switched back to the pale swell of her exposed breasts. He followed her smooth curves and was drawn into the soft pink canyon of her cleavage. His heart throbbed with need and was seconded by a similar throb in his loins.
"Why don't you take your clothes off and lie back on this comfortable airbed here?" she asked sweetly.
And then Gary was naked and lying on his back on the airbed. The details on precisely how he'd got here were a little hazy. The succubus stood astride him with her bat wings partially extended. Beyond her he saw the blood-red moon hanging in a cloudless sky.
"The succubus will now carry out sentence," Red stated.
Somebody muttered something that caused their neighbour to giggle. Red turned, face twisted in anger.
"Do not objectify the succubus!" she roared. "She is a divine instrument of feminist vengeance."
"Diabolic," Skinny Blue quietly corrected.
There was an unhealthy gleam in her eyes as she looked down at Gary. One hand had strayed inside her white jacket and was level with her crotch.
"Ignore them," the succubus said. "You should only have eyes for me."
She stood astride Gary like a colossus painted in shiny black PVC. Her big breasts curved out in two perfect hemispheres. Completely defying gravity, they floated above Gary like a pair of pale moons. Beyond them a perfect doll-mask face stared down at him with unrestrained lust. His eyes weren't going anywhere else.
The succubus reached down and undid a zipper at her crotch. She parted the shiny PVC to expose the hairless folds of her sex. A warm wave cascaded down and flowed over Gary, covering him and shutting out the chill October air like an invisible duvet. It brought with it traces of an exotic musk that caused Gary's nostrils to dilate and triggered a surge of excitement.
She made a gesture and Gary's erection rose like a cobra in thrall to a snake charmer. Pouting seductively, the sexy demoness bent her knees and squatted down on him. Her labia parted around his swollen glans as she impaled herself on him. She didn't go all the way down. Instead she took in maybe an inch of his length and teased him with little up and down motions that caused her moist inner walls to rub against his foreskin.
"I don't know why they think you're a virgin," the woman astride him said. "I taste three women on this prick. Mmm, one was good. I like that. There's no challenge when they haven't had a really good lay to compare you with."
Her labia fluffed out as she sank down and took his whole length inside her. She was tight. Wet enough for him slide up inside her with minimal resistance, but still tight. Very tight. And hot. Not just warm... hot.
Gary was fucking a demon.
A demon that had been summoned by a group of SJWs to punish him for transgressions that existed only in their heads.
This was fucked up.
He knew this and yet seemed powerless to do anything. It was like he was weirdly dislocated. He felt her rise up and down on him, felt the mattress rock and bounce beneath him to her motions, and yet he also felt like a passenger watching it all from afar.
The succubus smoothly moved her hips up and down. Her big breasts bounced and swayed with her movements. She let out low erotic moans.
"We should film this," one of the goons said.
"It wouldn't work," Skinny Blue said. "She is not of this plane of existence. Her form won't register on any recording device."
The succubus moved up and down with smooth grace. Gary felt his cock slide back and forth into her wet heat. Her vagina was incredible. He fit so snugly inside her it was like her parts had been specifically moulded to match his. It felt so good that even with the audience and strangeness of circumstances, Gary couldn't resist the urge to respond. He flexed his buttocks and thrust up to meet her.
The succubus slammed down on him and growled. The message was clear. She was the boss. Gary lay back and let her get on with it.
"She's so dominant," Skinny Blue said. Her hand was inside her coat, down between her legs, and she made no attempt to hide what she was doing with it.
The woman continued riding Gary. She wriggled her hips with each stroke, as if wanting to make sure no single millimetre of Gary's cock remained unexplored by her moist vaginal folds. Gary had never experienced sex with a partner as experienced as this. She really was a professional. She even had fine control over the muscular walls of her vagina. With each downstroke the walls of her pussy gave his erection a teasing little squeeze.
This didn't make sense. This was his punishment? She was fucking him like she was auditioning for a breakout part in the porn industry.
One of the activists evidently felt the same as he raised the same point.
"It's a statement," Red explained.
"I'm not so... comfortable watching this," the dissenting activist said. "It's too much like watching porn."
"Oh don't be so sex-negative," Red said. "If you're that uncomfortable go and look for Anthony. He'll be disappointed if he misses the climax."
Speaking of climaxes, Gary's wasn't far off. As the sumptuous inner walls of the dominatrix stroked up and down Gary's shaft he felt pressure building in his balls.
"Are you going to come for me, baby?" the woman in tight black PVC asked him.
That sounded like a splendid idea to Gary.
"Yes, come," Red said with a ghoulish glee. "Let her take your worthless soul."
"She is an embodiment of anti-life," Skinny Blue elaborated for the benefit of Gary. "Her corrupt womb takes life rather than creating it."
Oh. Yeah. Not a hot dominatrix escort. Demon.
Coming no longer sounded like such a splendid idea to Gary.
He tried to lift his arms. The succubus folded her body over his and pinned his arms back to the mattress. She stared into his eyes as her hips pumped up and down. Faster. Harder. He heard the fleshy slaps as their bodies came together, heard the inflatable mattress squeaking beneath them.
He felt pressure building in his balls.
Nope, nope, nope. Bad. Coming was bad. Really bad. He had to think unsexy thoughts—old grannies with wrinkly tits, STDs, pustulent gunk dripping from infected dicks. Think gross stuff. Infected dicks going into wrinkly granny pussy. Don't think about her soft vaginal walls stroking him inexorably to ecstasy. Don't look at her beautiful round breasts bouncing as she rode him.
The pressure grew. Gary's toes were curling. His whole body was trembling.
"I love it when they try to hold back," the demon said. "It's always futile."
Her hips came down in one final downstroke that engulfed Gary's whole length. She sat upright, closed her eyes and her black bat wings extended behind her. Her pussy seemed to melt around Gary, as if he'd sunk his cock into soft, warm dough.
"Yes," she murmured. "Yes, yes, yes."
No, no, no, Gary thought.
It was no good. Malleable flesh rippled up his shaft like lapping tongues. Softer lips kissed and suckled on the tip. He couldn't hold back anymore. His hips bucked and a slow explosion of pleasure rattled through him as he spurted a big load of semen up into her tight vagina.
Noooo!
She was going to drain his life and suck out all his fluids until only a shrivelled husk remained. She was going to tear out his soul. She was going to...
The violent throbbing pulses of ejaculation lessened and left behind the glow of post-orgasmic bliss. The succubus milked the dregs out of his pipes with gentle squeezes of her sex. Then, once the orgasm had subsided for both of them, she stood up, stretched and then zipped up her crotch.
"Mmm, that was rather pleasant," she said.
Gary looked up at her and blinked. He was still alive. At least he thought so. Aside from feeling like he'd just been run over by a steamroller made out of pure sex, he otherwise felt intact.
Was this supposed to happen?
The activists didn't think so. They looked at each other and chattered in confusion.
Skinny Blue addressed the demon in black PVC. "Succubus, what is going on? Why have you not slain and taken the soul of this human as per the conditions of our contract?"
The succubus turned to her. Her face was a mask of innocence. "You summoned me to slay and take the soul of one who has abused and is abusive to women. I have done as you desired."
She smiled down at Gary.
"I am also grateful for this additional offering of sex you have provided me. He was most agreeable, despite not being a virgin."
Skinny Blue looked puzzled.
So did Red. Then her head jerked up. "Where's Anthony?" she asked.
A door to one of the outbuildings opened. The masked activist that had left earlier because he felt uncomfortable stumbled out into the courtyard. He clawed off the bandana obscuring the lower half of his face. The skin beneath was pale and waxy. He turned and threw up over the wall.
The succubus's pale face was a picture of innocence. Apart from her eyes. They shone with dark amusement.
The activists chattered amongst themselves and went over to the outbuilding. One went through the doorway. He returned moments later with vomit already spilling down his chin. He doubled up next to the entrance and splattered the gravel with the contents of his stomach.
The succubus took Gary's hand and helped him to his feet.
"Now would be a really good time to make a run for it," she whispered in his ear.
THE END
This is the #GamerGate story, the story I originally wanted to enter into Literotica's Halloween contest, but didn't get finished in time. This turned out to be a good thing as the original had some characters and aspects that weren't working.
I intended the story as a parody (with sex!) of another story I read on the internet that began with the same premise, but took a different path with vastly different characters. How I've treated the #GamerGate controversy might ruffle a few feathers, but these are feathers that needed to be ruffled as far as I'm concerned. While the scenario and characters are intentionally far-fetched (the presence of an extra-dimensional sex demon should be a giveaway!), I did want to sneak a few serious points in. I hope they don't detract from the other fun and sexy stuff too much.
Oh, and because it references #GamerGate and SJWs, there's a chance some of you might be new readers unfamiliar with my other work. If you're wondering why the story suddenly lurches into hardcore succubus smut, well that's what I write and what I'm known for. If gratuitous descriptions of sex make you feel uncomfortable, now would be a good time to click the back button on your internet browser. Same goes for anyone under 18, you really shouldn't be here right now! :)
Feel free to leave any criticism in the comments. Even call me rude names if you feel strongly enough. But be warned, I'm a bit of a masochist, so any nasty insults will likely turn me on... sexually. ;)
A Trial in Vennington
"Bring him out!"
Gary Garrett quaked beneath a black hood. His hands were bound together behind his back by some kind of plastic tie.
Who were they? Al Qaeda? ISIS? The IRA?
Was the IRA even a thing anymore?
What did they want with him? He was a nobody. He worked as a community manager for one of the smaller DoTA-type online games. The job didn't pay particularly well, but it allowed Gary to work in an area he loved.
He'd been walking home from the bus stop when a van had pulled up alongside him, masked men had jumped out, shoved a hood over his head and bundled him inside. He hadn't even got a glimpse of their faces. After a short drive Gary had been shoved out and left in a small room with a bare concrete floor for what seemed like hours.
Gary was pulled, roughly, to his feet and led outside. The hood was taken off his head and almost took his spectacles with it. They snagged on the rough fabric, but only slid a few centimetres up his forehead before dropping back into place on the bridge of his nose.
It was night time. A blood-red moon hung above them in a cloudless sky. He was standing in the yard of what appeared to be a disused farm. The surrounding buildings were ramshackle and moss-encrusted, as if the farm had been in a state of disuse for some time. The yard was lit up by a ring of burning torches.
Gary didn't know what to make of his captors. They definitely weren't ISIS. He counted seven of them—two women and five men, although it was harder to determine with the men as all five wore dark clothing and black bandanas over the lower half of their faces. They looked more like student activists than terrorists. The two women made no attempt to hide their faces. One looked an obvious radical student feminist—right down to her bright red hair and horn-rimmed spectacles. The other girl also had dyed hair—light blue in her case—but had chosen more eclectic attire. She wore a long white leather trench coat and looked like a mashup between gothic spy and urban warlock.
"Do you know why you're here?" the woman with red hair asked.
Gary shook his head. He looked around. Other than the blue-haired girl in the white trench coat his captors looked like the same sort of people he'd seen on YouTube videos of campus demonstrations, the sort of people that claimed to be liberal and yet pulled fire alarms and blocked entrances to prevent people they didn't like giving talks at universities. It couldn't be them, though. Those campus activists might be extremists, but surely they weren't extreme enough to yank people off streets in broad daylight.
"You, Gary Garrett, are to face trial for your crimes against feminism," Red informed him.
Whaaat? Gary gawped at her. He would have laughed out loud at the silliness of it had he not been so terrified he'd already wet himself.
"You are a member of GamerGate, that vile online misogynist hate movement devoted to driving women out of the games industry and off the internet."
Gary opened his mouth to speak.
Red pushed out a hand to interrupt. "Don't try to deny it," she said sharply. "Your Twitter handle is @TheMagnificentGGG and you post on Reddit as GaimerGaryGarrett. We have your posting history for the last six months. We know you were at the GamerGate meetup last night."
"I wasn't going to deny it," Gary said. "Yes, I'm pro-GG, but it's not what—"
Red held up a hand. "Stop!" she said.
She looked around at the other goons with a smug smile on her lips.
"Anyone want to finish for him?"
"Actually, it's about ethics in videogames journalism," one of the goons mocked in a silly voice. It was followed by snerks and sniggers from the others.
Yeah, he'd walked right into that one, Gary thought.
"I haven't harassed anyone," he said. "I only started posting in support of the tag because I was fed up with the gaming press constantly shitting on its audience."
"Aw diddums," Red said. "Did the straight white man with all the privilege in the world get his fee-fees hurt?"
"Um, you do realise this is kidnapping," Gary said. "I'm pretty sure that's still a fairly serious crime. You could all go to prison for this."
Red's face twisted in a snarl. "We do not recognise or acknowledge your patriarchal system of abuse and oppression."
Gary watched with a wide-eyed mix of both astonishment and horror.
They were mad. Not just extreme. Mad.
He'd had the misfortune of running into people like this on the internet before. Everyone called them Social Justice Warriors, or SJWs for short. It was a label meant to be ironic on both counts. They were only interested in social justice in as much as it gave them a convenient club to bash people with and an equally convenient shield to deflect criticism when others tried to call out their bullying and harassment. Thankfully—like the Keyboard Warrior meme they were descended from—their 'warrioring' was mostly confined to getting angry and shouting at people on social media. Until now...
Someone gave Gary a solid kick to the back of his legs. He buckled and fell down to his knees.
"GamerGate has gone on too long," Red said. "The authorities won't do anything about it, so we've been forced to take matters into our own hands. Your harassment and women hating must stop."
"But I don't hate women," Gary protested. "There are two girls on my regular League of Legends team. One of them even taught me how to get good."
Someone hit him on the back of his head. It was an open-handed slap rather than a full-blooded punch, but it still rattled his brain inside his skull.
"We do not use girl!" Red roared. "Girl is a diminutive used to deny full-grown women the respect they deserve."
"Um, she's like fifteen," Gary said. "And she hates anti-GG even more than I do."
He was struck again. This time it was a closed fist. It knocked his head to the side and left his glasses resting lopsidedly on the bridge of his nose.
"You deserve this, GamerGate scum," Red said.
"I haven't harassed anyone!" Gary wailed.
Red wagged a finger at him. "There's no point lying, Gary Garrett. We did our research." She picked up a tablet computer from the low wall next to her. "Your history of crimes against women goes back further than GamerGate. We know all about the woman you raped back at university."
This. Again? Inwardly he sighed. Was he ever going to be free of it?
"If you've read your research you'll know I didn't rape her," he said.
"I'm sure you didn't," Red snarked. "I'm sure it was all a big misunderstanding and you really thought she'd consented to having sex with you."
"No, I didn't rape her as I wasn't in the same part of the city where the assault took place. I was playing Magic in the student union bar all night. There's CCTV footage. It's in the court documents and why the case was thrown out. You'd know this if you'd read them instead of just the newspaper headlines."
It wouldn't matter.
Red scowled and put the tablet aside. "I don't need to read them to know they're the typical lies put out by the patriarchy."
It was the same with every SJW he'd attempted to reason with online. The moment they were given a fact or piece of evidence that didn't agree with their carefully cultivated and blinkered worldview it was all block, block, block. He might as well debate a brick.
This wasn't online. Neither was it debate.
They'd kidnapped him in broad daylight. If they were okay with that, what else were they okay with...?
"We've heard enough," Red said. "You are guilty and now it's time to pass sentence."
She picked up another object. It reflected the light from the burning torches. The blood drained from Gary's face as he realised it was a wickedly-sharp scalpel.
ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck
Something broke in Gary as he realised they were going to go as far as his worst fears. He started babbling.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll leave GamerGate. I'll stop posting on Reddit. I'll delete my Twitter account."
He didn't want to die. Not over something as trivial and stupid as this.
He tried to stand up. Somebody stamped on the back of his calf.
"Please don't kill me. I'm sorry."
His stomach convulsed and he threw up. He lifted his head and saw the contemptuous eyes of the activists all around him.
"Too late," Red said. "GamerGate's reign of oppression has lasted for over a year now. But no longer. For you, GamerGate is over. It ends tonight."
Those last three words triggered something in Gary. He didn't know where the laughter came from. They were going to kill him. That was nothing to laugh about, yet laugh he did. Maybe it was the absurdity of the situation. Maybe it was a memory of the mockery a prominent anti-GGer had received when they'd used those exact same three words on Twitter. First it was a nervous giggle, then a chuckle, and finally an uncontrollable guffaw welling up from the depths of his belly.
Someone punched him from the left.
He kept laughing.
Another punch came in from the right. Gary went over. His glasses left his face and bounced off the grit in front of him.
He couldn't stop giggling, even as they hit him.
Fuck, he hadn't taken a beating like this since some bullies had gone after him one time in secondary school. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and bawl his eyes out until someone in authority came by.
No. Fuck it.
Gary spat out a bloodied tooth.
It hadn't worked back then and it wouldn't work for adult him either.
He awkwardly levered himself back to his knees and stared defiantly at Red.
"I'm laughing because you're ridiculous. You disrupt meetings with bomb threats, harass people off social media, even get people fired for comments taken out of context, and you say we're the hate group. Look at you. Even now you probably still think you're the victim in all this even as your goons literally knock my teeth out.
"You're losing. You took advantage of people's basic empathy and decency, but now that sympathy is running out. They're seeing through your screen of diversity, trigger warnings and safe spaces to see you for what you really are—another extremist authoritarian group that wants the power to dictate what other people can say, think and create.
"And, like all extremist authoritarian groups that don't get what they want, you fall back on intimidation and violence. In your twisted worldview I bet you don't even think you're doing anything wrong. No bad tactics only bad targets, am I right?
"Well guess what. That's not how it works in the real world, not in the eyes of the law. You're going to be put away for a very long time for this."
He stared from activist to activist. He doubted any of them were past college age.
"All of you."
He lingered last on Red. She was furious. This wasn't part of the script. He was supposed to huddle up on the ground and beg for mercy from their righteous judgment.
Fuck her. He'd been forced to bow to bullies before. No more, and not to ones as pathetic as this.
Red looked so pissed Gary thought she might charge over and stab him right there and then. Her companion in the white trench coat put a hand on her arm.
"Let him rage against imaginary persecution. He is in a higher court now," she said.
Red calmed down. "Your defence has been noted and rejected as the usual paranoid ramblings of chan trash. Sentence will be carried out." Red gave Gary a spiteful smile. "And for you the punishment will be deliciously ironic."
Skinny Blue, the blue-haired girl with the white trench coat, stepped forwards. Evidently it was her turn in the spotlight.
"We're not going to kill you," she said. Her thin lips were curled up in a smile Gary didn't like in the slightest. "The demon will do that."
Gary turned to look in the direction Skinny Blue indicated. His vision was blurry without his glasses. He saw a woman leaning casually against the crumbling wall of a dilapidated outbuilding. She was dressed in an outfit that had it existed in a game the SJWs would have attacked it for being problematic. It consisted of lots of tight black PVC that displayed more flesh than it covered, including a generous amount of her quite spectacular cleavage.
Demon? She looked more like a kinky adult film actress or professional dominatrix. The woman looked a little bored by the proceedings, as if she'd seen it all before and was eager to get it over and done with so she could collect her pay check.
Had the SJWs hired a sex worker... to what? Prank him? Rough him up, maybe even sexually abuse him in some twisted idea of payback?
Another student activist with a bandana obscuring the lower half of their face entered the open area. They carried an inflated airbed. They dragged it over to Gary and plonked it down amongst the weeds and gravel.
"Where's Anthony?" Red asked.
The man shrugged.
"I thought he wanted to see this," Red said.
See what? Gary thought.
They'd piqued the interest of the woman dressed as a dominatrix. She detached from the wall and approached them.
"Have you heard of succubi?" Skinny Blue asked. "In ancient times they were described as demons from hell that lured men into sexual congress in order to weaken and sometimes even kill them. Of course, our knowledge has advanced since those superstitious times. We now know demons are entities that inhabit an adjacent plane of existence to our own."
Gary knew what a succubus was. He'd played enough computer RPGs.
The woman approaching had horns, wings and a tail. What he first took to be a dominatrix outfit took on a more sinister, occult tinge.
He also knew demons were fiction. This was cosplay. Superbly put together cosplay, right down to the Morrigan-esque bat wings sticking out of the side of her head, but still cosplay.
"Demonology is a science nowadays," Skinny Blue said, "albeit an exclusive and carefully hidden one. Strip away the silly superstitions and pare the rituals right down to their core components and it's not all that dissimilar from computer programming. Carry out the correct set of instructions and it's possible to bring one of those entities into our plane of existence and bind them to your will."
The 'demon' walked up to Gary. Up close Gary's vision was less blurry and he saw she had both stunning looks and figure. She had high, pointed cheekbones and while her face was model-perfect, it was also very pale and possessed an aristocratic severity. Her long black hair was swept back and tied up in an austere ponytail. A PVC corset cinched her waist and emphasised the curves of her chest and ass. It looked both sexy and painful.
She nudged the airbed with her foot. "A little basic, but it will suffice." Her accent was clipped and full of Received Pronunciation—posh totty with hints of a filthy nature underneath.
She loosened her corset and turned the top down until her substantial breasts popped out. They were large, firm and perfectly round. Gary hadn't seen anything like them outside of anime—and that was supposed to be unrealistic!
"Shall we begin?" she asked.
"Oh, the myths were right about one thing," Skinny Blue said. "Succubi are like vampires. They feed off the energy given out during sexual intercourse, often depleting their victims entirely. That's why we don't need to worry about the authorities. When they find your body, your death will be put down to a tragic and untimely heart attack. Extradimensional sex vampires are extremely handy in that regard."
Red stepped up and cut the ties binding Gary's wrists.
"The irony is perfect," she said. "You misogynist shitlords idolise the unrealistic forms of beauty that oppress real women. It's fitting your end will come from a living embodiment of your own puerile masturbation fantasies."
Gary didn't know what to say. They were totally fucking loopy.
He looked at the semi-naked woman in the PVC bondage outfit. Was she in on this lunacy?
They had to be trolling. Yeah, that's what it was—dress a Barbie-doll model up in a stripperific dominatrix outfit and scare the shit out of him to make the point they weren't just sex objects.
Top kek, SJWs. You got me. You do have a sense of humour, who'd have thought it. Can we go home now? he thought.
It was then he noticed his knees were knocking together. Shaking. Trembling. It was like a chill creeping up from the ground. It slithered up his legs in gelid ropes and crawled up his spine on icy fingers. The sensation of dread rustled through the hairs on the back of his neck. His teeth started chattering even though the early October night wasn't that chilly.
This wasn't cold. It was an atavistic sensation of pure terror—an ancestral memory from back when humanity was small and fluffy and the nights were filled with teeth and claws. Black dread radiated out of the figure standing before him in pulsing waves.
He noticed her eyes, or rather the lack of them. At first he thought they were hidden in shadow, now he saw they were black wells sunk into an infinite abyss. Her horns, wings and tail were not cosplay accessories, they were the real thing. The spade tip of her tail flicked back and forth like a menacing snake.
All his senses screamed at him. This... thing... should not exist on this physical plane. Its wrongness caused his guts to twist and knot inside him, as if they wanted to turn themselves inside out.
Gary wanted to run. It was an overpowering instinct that wrapped talons around his primitive hindbrain and squeezed.
The demon reached over and caressed his right cheek. Black static crackled between nails as long as claws. Her cold black lips turned up at the corner in an equally cold smile.
Gary couldn't move. His legs were locked and shivering. He might as well have been frozen to the floor with great sheets of black ice.
"Look at how terrified he is," one of the masked goons said.
"It's because he's never seen a real woman's tits in the flesh before," another laughed.
Did they not see it? Did they not see what she—it—was?
"Mmm, the smell of your fear is delicious," the demon said. Her voice had picked up jagged cadences, like rusty metal scraping together.
Gary's bladder let go. Warm urine flooded his underpants and flowed down his legs. The demon reached down and cupped a hand beneath his sodden genitals. She brought it back to her face and licked her palm with a tongue as black as a bruise. She wrapped equally black lips around a long finger and gave it a suggestive suck.
"Mmm, tastes delicious as well," she purred.
Her face was a perfect doll's mask—as pale as porcelain with two abyssal pits for eyes. Gary tried to avoid meeting her stare. He feared being dragged into those dark wells and lost forever in endless darkness and cold.
"Where is the fire I heard earlier?" the demon asked.
"F-f-f-fu-fu-fu..."
Gary's chattering jaw wouldn't allow him to shape the retort. Instead he stared at the demon with sullen defiance.
She chuckled. Her lips, sensual and plump despite being as black as plague buboes, turned up at the corners in the facsimile of a smile.
"That's more like it," she said. "I like to see a little fight."
And then, as if it'd been turned off by a switch, the paralysing sensation of dread locking up Gary's bones was gone. It was as if what was visible of the demoness was a shadow behind a shrouding curtain. The others saw the silhouette of a beautiful woman. He'd been permitted a glimpse between the curtains and saw what really lay on the other side. But only for a moment, before the veils swished back across and the shadow of a beautiful woman returned.
Gary blinked. The feeling of overwhelming dread had vanished so quickly and completely he wondered if it had ever been real in the first place. Maybe it was just a temporary blip of brain chemistry brought on by the stress of the situation.
The girl smiled at him. His gaze roamed all over her stunning figure. She really did look like an anime succubus given flesh, improbable proportions and all. His gaze kept sticking on the perfect round globes of her tits. It triggered a primal sense of longing in him he hadn't felt since he was an awkward teen and completely clueless about love and sex.
Wait. Wasn't she a demon? She had horns. And wings. And that was definitely a tail swinging behind the delightful curves of her rump.
Gary's brow wrinkled.
And then his gaze switched back to the pale swell of her exposed breasts. He followed her smooth curves and was drawn into the soft pink canyon of her cleavage. His heart throbbed with need and was seconded by a similar throb in his loins.
"Why don't you take your clothes off and lie back on this comfortable airbed here?" she asked sweetly.
And then Gary was naked and lying on his back on the airbed. The details on precisely how he'd got here were a little hazy. The succubus stood astride him with her bat wings partially extended. Beyond her he saw the blood-red moon hanging in a cloudless sky.
"The succubus will now carry out sentence," Red stated.
Somebody muttered something that caused their neighbour to giggle. Red turned, face twisted in anger.
"Do not objectify the succubus!" she roared. "She is a divine instrument of feminist vengeance."
"Diabolic," Skinny Blue quietly corrected.
There was an unhealthy gleam in her eyes as she looked down at Gary. One hand had strayed inside her white jacket and was level with her crotch.
"Ignore them," the succubus said. "You should only have eyes for me."
She stood astride Gary like a colossus painted in shiny black PVC. Her big breasts curved out in two perfect hemispheres. Completely defying gravity, they floated above Gary like a pair of pale moons. Beyond them a perfect doll-mask face stared down at him with unrestrained lust. His eyes weren't going anywhere else.
The succubus reached down and undid a zipper at her crotch. She parted the shiny PVC to expose the hairless folds of her sex. A warm wave cascaded down and flowed over Gary, covering him and shutting out the chill October air like an invisible duvet. It brought with it traces of an exotic musk that caused Gary's nostrils to dilate and triggered a surge of excitement.
She made a gesture and Gary's erection rose like a cobra in thrall to a snake charmer. Pouting seductively, the sexy demoness bent her knees and squatted down on him. Her labia parted around his swollen glans as she impaled herself on him. She didn't go all the way down. Instead she took in maybe an inch of his length and teased him with little up and down motions that caused her moist inner walls to rub against his foreskin.
"I don't know why they think you're a virgin," the woman astride him said. "I taste three women on this prick. Mmm, one was good. I like that. There's no challenge when they haven't had a really good lay to compare you with."
Her labia fluffed out as she sank down and took his whole length inside her. She was tight. Wet enough for him slide up inside her with minimal resistance, but still tight. Very tight. And hot. Not just warm... hot.
Gary was fucking a demon.
A demon that had been summoned by a group of SJWs to punish him for transgressions that existed only in their heads.
This was fucked up.
He knew this and yet seemed powerless to do anything. It was like he was weirdly dislocated. He felt her rise up and down on him, felt the mattress rock and bounce beneath him to her motions, and yet he also felt like a passenger watching it all from afar.
The succubus smoothly moved her hips up and down. Her big breasts bounced and swayed with her movements. She let out low erotic moans.
"We should film this," one of the goons said.
"It wouldn't work," Skinny Blue said. "She is not of this plane of existence. Her form won't register on any recording device."
The succubus moved up and down with smooth grace. Gary felt his cock slide back and forth into her wet heat. Her vagina was incredible. He fit so snugly inside her it was like her parts had been specifically moulded to match his. It felt so good that even with the audience and strangeness of circumstances, Gary couldn't resist the urge to respond. He flexed his buttocks and thrust up to meet her.
The succubus slammed down on him and growled. The message was clear. She was the boss. Gary lay back and let her get on with it.
"She's so dominant," Skinny Blue said. Her hand was inside her coat, down between her legs, and she made no attempt to hide what she was doing with it.
The woman continued riding Gary. She wriggled her hips with each stroke, as if wanting to make sure no single millimetre of Gary's cock remained unexplored by her moist vaginal folds. Gary had never experienced sex with a partner as experienced as this. She really was a professional. She even had fine control over the muscular walls of her vagina. With each downstroke the walls of her pussy gave his erection a teasing little squeeze.
This didn't make sense. This was his punishment? She was fucking him like she was auditioning for a breakout part in the porn industry.
One of the activists evidently felt the same as he raised the same point.
"It's a statement," Red explained.
"I'm not so... comfortable watching this," the dissenting activist said. "It's too much like watching porn."
"Oh don't be so sex-negative," Red said. "If you're that uncomfortable go and look for Anthony. He'll be disappointed if he misses the climax."
Speaking of climaxes, Gary's wasn't far off. As the sumptuous inner walls of the dominatrix stroked up and down Gary's shaft he felt pressure building in his balls.
"Are you going to come for me, baby?" the woman in tight black PVC asked him.
That sounded like a splendid idea to Gary.
"Yes, come," Red said with a ghoulish glee. "Let her take your worthless soul."
"She is an embodiment of anti-life," Skinny Blue elaborated for the benefit of Gary. "Her corrupt womb takes life rather than creating it."
Oh. Yeah. Not a hot dominatrix escort. Demon.
Coming no longer sounded like such a splendid idea to Gary.
He tried to lift his arms. The succubus folded her body over his and pinned his arms back to the mattress. She stared into his eyes as her hips pumped up and down. Faster. Harder. He heard the fleshy slaps as their bodies came together, heard the inflatable mattress squeaking beneath them.
He felt pressure building in his balls.
Nope, nope, nope. Bad. Coming was bad. Really bad. He had to think unsexy thoughts—old grannies with wrinkly tits, STDs, pustulent gunk dripping from infected dicks. Think gross stuff. Infected dicks going into wrinkly granny pussy. Don't think about her soft vaginal walls stroking him inexorably to ecstasy. Don't look at her beautiful round breasts bouncing as she rode him.
The pressure grew. Gary's toes were curling. His whole body was trembling.
"I love it when they try to hold back," the demon said. "It's always futile."
Her hips came down in one final downstroke that engulfed Gary's whole length. She sat upright, closed her eyes and her black bat wings extended behind her. Her pussy seemed to melt around Gary, as if he'd sunk his cock into soft, warm dough.
"Yes," she murmured. "Yes, yes, yes."
No, no, no, Gary thought.
It was no good. Malleable flesh rippled up his shaft like lapping tongues. Softer lips kissed and suckled on the tip. He couldn't hold back anymore. His hips bucked and a slow explosion of pleasure rattled through him as he spurted a big load of semen up into her tight vagina.
Noooo!
She was going to drain his life and suck out all his fluids until only a shrivelled husk remained. She was going to tear out his soul. She was going to...
The violent throbbing pulses of ejaculation lessened and left behind the glow of post-orgasmic bliss. The succubus milked the dregs out of his pipes with gentle squeezes of her sex. Then, once the orgasm had subsided for both of them, she stood up, stretched and then zipped up her crotch.
"Mmm, that was rather pleasant," she said.
Gary looked up at her and blinked. He was still alive. At least he thought so. Aside from feeling like he'd just been run over by a steamroller made out of pure sex, he otherwise felt intact.
Was this supposed to happen?
The activists didn't think so. They looked at each other and chattered in confusion.
Skinny Blue addressed the demon in black PVC. "Succubus, what is going on? Why have you not slain and taken the soul of this human as per the conditions of our contract?"
The succubus turned to her. Her face was a mask of innocence. "You summoned me to slay and take the soul of one who has abused and is abusive to women. I have done as you desired."
She smiled down at Gary.
"I am also grateful for this additional offering of sex you have provided me. He was most agreeable, despite not being a virgin."
Skinny Blue looked puzzled.
So did Red. Then her head jerked up. "Where's Anthony?" she asked.
A door to one of the outbuildings opened. The masked activist that had left earlier because he felt uncomfortable stumbled out into the courtyard. He clawed off the bandana obscuring the lower half of his face. The skin beneath was pale and waxy. He turned and threw up over the wall.
The succubus's pale face was a picture of innocence. Apart from her eyes. They shone with dark amusement.
The activists chattered amongst themselves and went over to the outbuilding. One went through the doorway. He returned moments later with vomit already spilling down his chin. He doubled up next to the entrance and splattered the gravel with the contents of his stomach.
The succubus took Gary's hand and helped him to his feet.
"Now would be a really good time to make a run for it," she whispered in his ear.
THE END
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Chad's Challenge
My 2nd story for Literotica's Halloween story contest is up. You can read it here:
Chad's Challenge
No idea where this one came from. It bubbled up from the little black cells at the back of my brain and I wrote it down. I wanted to write a simple old-style manyeyedhydra short story with monster girls and dangerous snu snu to get the machinery moving again. It took a little longer to write than I expected, probably because it's also about 1.5K words longer than I originally anticipated.
It's a little freaky, especially on the sex bit...
I hope you all enjoy it anyway.
I've got today to finish the 3rd entrant. That might be a little too tight. The subject matter is topical, so even if I don't make the deadline I'll still post it to Literotica as soon as the story is finished.
Chad's Challenge
No idea where this one came from. It bubbled up from the little black cells at the back of my brain and I wrote it down. I wanted to write a simple old-style manyeyedhydra short story with monster girls and dangerous snu snu to get the machinery moving again. It took a little longer to write than I expected, probably because it's also about 1.5K words longer than I originally anticipated.
It's a little freaky, especially on the sex bit...
I hope you all enjoy it anyway.
I've got today to finish the 3rd entrant. That might be a little too tight. The subject matter is topical, so even if I don't make the deadline I'll still post it to Literotica as soon as the story is finished.
Saturday, July 04, 2015
Shiborito in the Bag, part 6
"Don't suffocate him, Eunectis" Eryx said.
"I'm only going to give him a little kiss with my pussy," Eunectis said.
She squatted down and the light was shut out as her ass descended. Cohen was enveloped first by the thick aroma of her sex and then the flesh of her ass as she sat on his face. Cohen couldn't twist his head away. She followed him, keeping her pussy pressed tightly over his nose and mouth. Her felt the soft lips of her pussy brush against his face. They gaped wide and the dark space was filled with the sinful perfume of her sex. The scent rushed straight through his body and filled his straining balls. Eryx pressed down with her thighs again the thick cream squished around Cohen's over-sensitized penis. The sensations tickled up his shaft in moist waves.
Oh god, Cohen thought.
His balls clenched as though they'd been gripped in a fist. His spine bucked and the most powerful ejaculation he'd ever felt erupted from his cock. He gasped but not through lack of air—Eunectis had already lifted her smothering ass. His body shuddered and convulsed uncontrollably. That out of control train had smashed into a wall at the end of the line and was now so much wreckage. His semen bubbled up out of his twitching erection like a geyser. His own cream was mixing with the cream in the bag.
Eryx and Eunectis stood up off his wriggling form and stared down at him with sultry smiles. Estrumpthia walked up to them, still pressing the rubber cup to her crotch. Like the other two she'd changed, but her pale skin had a bluish tinge rather than red. Like the other two she had horns, wings and a tail.
She looked down at Cohen and licked her lips. "Mmm, the sight of a human thrashing around in helpless ecstasy makes me so horny."
She pressed the funnel-type adaptor at the end of the pipe tight to her pussy, squatted and pressed her hips forward. Cohen heard a loud and strangely erotic liquid sound. More soft cream flowed up against Cohen's body. He groaned as his balls clenched and he emptied another thick stream of cum into the bag. The ejaculation wasn't stopping. He felt the pleasure spin on and on as a constant stream of semen flowed up his erection in steady pulses.
Estrumpthia removed the cup from her vagina and Cohen saw her labia were speckled with pinkish-white froth. She unscrewed the funnel attachment from the end of the pipe and passed the pipe to Eryx. The other girl screwed a nozzle attachment onto the end. It looked like the end of a hookah pipe, but larger.
Cohen looked at the devil girls with fearful eyes. It was getting harder to concentrate. The sensations inundated his thoughts in the same way the soft cream surrounded his body.
"Wha...?" he muttered thickly.
His body was no longer his. His hips kept twitching as semen poured out of him in an endless succession of spurts.
Eunectis crouched down next to him. He saw her smiling face above the large round swells of her breasts.
"You're our little shiborito in the bag," she said. "Estrumpthia has filled it up with her special vaginal secretions. They've soaked into you. You're coming out your life and soul, and we're going to slurp it all up in our lovely pussies."
Eryx squatted down on the other side of the bag and inserted the nozzle between the folds of her vagina. Her abdomen gave a little flex and the pipe was sucked deeper inside her. The noises started then—like thick cream being sucked up through a straw. Cohen felt a strange tugging sensation focused on his crotch.
Eryx opened her eyes and sighed.
"Delicious," she said.
She handed the pipe to Estrumpthia, who also inserted it up into her sex.
"There's no need to be anxious," Eunectis whispered to Cohen. "It feels nice."
The horrible liquid sucking sounds started up again.
Cohen didn't feel anxious. Estrumpthia's secretions had soaked into his skin and coated his nerve endings in cotton wool. He felt like he was floating in a warm fluffy cloud. His writhing had quietened down to little twitches every time he released a spurt of cum into the bag.
It felt so good—warm and comfortable. He was no longer sure if he was inside the bag or the bag. He felt like he was floating around inside an outer skin of black latex—not solid or liquid.
Estrumpthia took her time with the nozzle. She sighed in pleasure as her vagina clamped around it and she sucked up the cream in the bag.
It wasn't just the cream around him she was sucking, it felt like they were sucking up him. He released his essence up into the bag and she drew part of it up into her body, leaving him diminished in the process.
And Cohen no longer cared. The pleasure had overwhelmed and subsumed his mind. All he cared about was the orgasm still rumbling through him, still coaxing his body to ejaculate more and more. He lay back and floated on a cloud of pleasure as his life, essence and soul pulsed out into the bag.
The succubi passed the nozzle amongst themselves. They sucked up the cream and essence until the bag began to deflate. The black rubber crinkled up and subsided as the succubi sighed in satisfaction as they sucked more and more out of the bag. The vac-bed wrinkled up and the man inside wrinkled up with it.
Eryx's vagina clenched around the pipe and drew out the last dregs with a ghastly slurping sound.
"A most satisfactory present from Ms Brite," she said.
On the floor the glossy black rubber sheets were wrinkled as they tightly wrapped a human form. This human form also looked as though all the air had been pumped out of him. A face that was little more than skin stretched over a skull stared out of a circular opening in the top sheet. The shrivelled lips were stretched taut in a ghastly grin.
"And we even cured his anxiety," Eunectis said.
"I'm only going to give him a little kiss with my pussy," Eunectis said.
She squatted down and the light was shut out as her ass descended. Cohen was enveloped first by the thick aroma of her sex and then the flesh of her ass as she sat on his face. Cohen couldn't twist his head away. She followed him, keeping her pussy pressed tightly over his nose and mouth. Her felt the soft lips of her pussy brush against his face. They gaped wide and the dark space was filled with the sinful perfume of her sex. The scent rushed straight through his body and filled his straining balls. Eryx pressed down with her thighs again the thick cream squished around Cohen's over-sensitized penis. The sensations tickled up his shaft in moist waves.
Oh god, Cohen thought.
His balls clenched as though they'd been gripped in a fist. His spine bucked and the most powerful ejaculation he'd ever felt erupted from his cock. He gasped but not through lack of air—Eunectis had already lifted her smothering ass. His body shuddered and convulsed uncontrollably. That out of control train had smashed into a wall at the end of the line and was now so much wreckage. His semen bubbled up out of his twitching erection like a geyser. His own cream was mixing with the cream in the bag.
Eryx and Eunectis stood up off his wriggling form and stared down at him with sultry smiles. Estrumpthia walked up to them, still pressing the rubber cup to her crotch. Like the other two she'd changed, but her pale skin had a bluish tinge rather than red. Like the other two she had horns, wings and a tail.
She looked down at Cohen and licked her lips. "Mmm, the sight of a human thrashing around in helpless ecstasy makes me so horny."
She pressed the funnel-type adaptor at the end of the pipe tight to her pussy, squatted and pressed her hips forward. Cohen heard a loud and strangely erotic liquid sound. More soft cream flowed up against Cohen's body. He groaned as his balls clenched and he emptied another thick stream of cum into the bag. The ejaculation wasn't stopping. He felt the pleasure spin on and on as a constant stream of semen flowed up his erection in steady pulses.
Estrumpthia removed the cup from her vagina and Cohen saw her labia were speckled with pinkish-white froth. She unscrewed the funnel attachment from the end of the pipe and passed the pipe to Eryx. The other girl screwed a nozzle attachment onto the end. It looked like the end of a hookah pipe, but larger.
Cohen looked at the devil girls with fearful eyes. It was getting harder to concentrate. The sensations inundated his thoughts in the same way the soft cream surrounded his body.
"Wha...?" he muttered thickly.
His body was no longer his. His hips kept twitching as semen poured out of him in an endless succession of spurts.
Eunectis crouched down next to him. He saw her smiling face above the large round swells of her breasts.
"You're our little shiborito in the bag," she said. "Estrumpthia has filled it up with her special vaginal secretions. They've soaked into you. You're coming out your life and soul, and we're going to slurp it all up in our lovely pussies."
Eryx squatted down on the other side of the bag and inserted the nozzle between the folds of her vagina. Her abdomen gave a little flex and the pipe was sucked deeper inside her. The noises started then—like thick cream being sucked up through a straw. Cohen felt a strange tugging sensation focused on his crotch.
Eryx opened her eyes and sighed.
"Delicious," she said.
She handed the pipe to Estrumpthia, who also inserted it up into her sex.
"There's no need to be anxious," Eunectis whispered to Cohen. "It feels nice."
The horrible liquid sucking sounds started up again.
Cohen didn't feel anxious. Estrumpthia's secretions had soaked into his skin and coated his nerve endings in cotton wool. He felt like he was floating in a warm fluffy cloud. His writhing had quietened down to little twitches every time he released a spurt of cum into the bag.
It felt so good—warm and comfortable. He was no longer sure if he was inside the bag or the bag. He felt like he was floating around inside an outer skin of black latex—not solid or liquid.
Estrumpthia took her time with the nozzle. She sighed in pleasure as her vagina clamped around it and she sucked up the cream in the bag.
It wasn't just the cream around him she was sucking, it felt like they were sucking up him. He released his essence up into the bag and she drew part of it up into her body, leaving him diminished in the process.
And Cohen no longer cared. The pleasure had overwhelmed and subsumed his mind. All he cared about was the orgasm still rumbling through him, still coaxing his body to ejaculate more and more. He lay back and floated on a cloud of pleasure as his life, essence and soul pulsed out into the bag.
The succubi passed the nozzle amongst themselves. They sucked up the cream and essence until the bag began to deflate. The black rubber crinkled up and subsided as the succubi sighed in satisfaction as they sucked more and more out of the bag. The vac-bed wrinkled up and the man inside wrinkled up with it.
Eryx's vagina clenched around the pipe and drew out the last dregs with a ghastly slurping sound.
"A most satisfactory present from Ms Brite," she said.
On the floor the glossy black rubber sheets were wrinkled as they tightly wrapped a human form. This human form also looked as though all the air had been pumped out of him. A face that was little more than skin stretched over a skull stared out of a circular opening in the top sheet. The shrivelled lips were stretched taut in a ghastly grin.
"And we even cured his anxiety," Eunectis said.
THE END
Friday, July 03, 2015
Shiborito in the Bag, part 5
"What's going on?" he asked.
Had someone changed the lights? Erica looked different. Her skin colour was darker, redder.
"Special sauce to marinade the meat," she said.
Esther moaned again and pushed her crotch forward. How could she be producing all this? It was up to his crotch and—
Cohen closed his eyes. The warm creamy substance had enveloped his balls. His erection, which had softened slightly as his unease had grown, sprang back to full attention. The rubber top sheet of the vac-bed tented upwards with the throbbing bar of his hard-on. The tenting grew less pronounced as more cream flowed into the bag.
It was over his chest now. It surrounded his arms, it enfolded his hands and he felt it squelch between his fingers. It drove his nerve endings wild. It was like lying in a big bath of crackly foam with no water. Cohen wanted more and more of it and Esther obliged. Sighing and gasping in the throes of an orgasm that seemed to have no end, she pumped more and more thick cream into the bag. Moments before, Cohen had felt like he'd been shrink-wrapped. Now he felt like he was lying at the heart of a giant fluffy pillow. The black rubber surface swelled up all around him.
Hot flashes pulsed through him. They pulsed and pulsed and focused on his balls and penis until his whole crotch was glowing with warmth. The cream slithered all around him and engulfed his twitching erection. Cohen felt the urge to wrap a hand around his cock and rub the pleasant cream into his shaft. He couldn't move. Not because the rubber sheets were wrapped too tightly around him, but because the warm creamy substance had sapped all the energy right out of him. It was like lying in a warm bed in an icy room and feeling too comfortable to move. The vac-bed continued to swell up as more and more thick cream piled up around him.
Erica sat astride him, or rather sat astride the swollen bag. He felt the pressure of her legs transmit through the bag and move the wonderful cream against his body. He looked up at her through a haze of pleasure.
His brow wrinkled. Something wasn't right.
Her pale skin was flushed. No, it was more than that. Her skin was red, deep red all the way through as though she was so full of blood it had leaked out underneath her skin. And her eyes... what had happened to her eyes? He looked up into black pits that looked as though they fell all the way into hell itself. Were those...? There were horns on her head and he watched as black bat wings unfurled behind her.
Hallucination. He must be hallucinating.
"Comfortable?" Erica asked.
Her voice was wrong too. There were weird inflections to the edges, like metal on metal.
Where was the panic? Where was the anxiety? Despite Erica's sudden, demonic change of appearance he felt relaxed and languid. This was a total contrast to his brain, which was screaming wrong, wrong, wrong!
Erica bent over and hugged the swollen bag. Her large breasts—uncovered now, nipples dark like dried blood—pressed against the rubber above his chest. He felt the pressure come through the bag and thick cream.
"How does it feel—nice and creamy?" Erica asked.
She hugged the bag tighter and rubbed her pendulous breasts against the shiny black surface.
"Let me massage it into your flesh," she said.
She squeezed and hugged. Her hips moved up and down as she ground her sex against the bag. Her movements started currents in the substance that filled the bag. Cohen writhed in helpless pleasure as the warm cream squished against his body. He let out an involuntary moan as more hot flashes raced across his sensitised skin. Thick currents stirred his throbbing manhood. It felt like cream-covered fingers were tickling up and down his hard-on.
"He's nearly ready," Erica called back to the girl on the bed. "One more squirt, Estrumpthia."
"Mmm, I'll give him a nice thick one, Eryx," Esther said, her voice also picking up strange alien cadences.
She let out another loud sigh. The pipe vibrated. More slippery cream—a thick bulge—slithered down the tube and mushroomed up around Cohen. His eyelids flickered as more of the warm cream enveloped him.
"Feels nice, doesn't it," Eryx said. "Like being wrapped in a giant wet womb."
She wriggled her body on top of him. Her arms and thighs squeezed the swollen bag and he felt the thick cream squidge against his skin. All of Cohen's nerve endings felt amplified, as if the slightest breath had the force of a bomb. The devil girl on top of him pressed her waist down and her motions stirred the electrifying cream around his cock.
Fuck, he was going to come. Really come. Come so hard it would be painful.
"Yes, let it out," the devil girl writhing on top of him exhorted with a breathy sigh. "Let it all out."
What was happening? Cohen felt so good and yet weirdly wrong. His body felt like a train accelerating down a track with no buffers.
"Need help?" Eunice said, her voice like blades slathered in honey.
Like Eryx her skin had darkened to a deep red colour. She even had a devil tail. He saw it as she stood over him. He looked up into the moist lips of her sex and watched as they gaped open and shut like a mouth.
"Don't suffocate him, Eunectis" Eryx said.
"I'm only going to give him a little kiss with my pussy," Eunectis said.
Had someone changed the lights? Erica looked different. Her skin colour was darker, redder.
"Special sauce to marinade the meat," she said.
Esther moaned again and pushed her crotch forward. How could she be producing all this? It was up to his crotch and—
Cohen closed his eyes. The warm creamy substance had enveloped his balls. His erection, which had softened slightly as his unease had grown, sprang back to full attention. The rubber top sheet of the vac-bed tented upwards with the throbbing bar of his hard-on. The tenting grew less pronounced as more cream flowed into the bag.
It was over his chest now. It surrounded his arms, it enfolded his hands and he felt it squelch between his fingers. It drove his nerve endings wild. It was like lying in a big bath of crackly foam with no water. Cohen wanted more and more of it and Esther obliged. Sighing and gasping in the throes of an orgasm that seemed to have no end, she pumped more and more thick cream into the bag. Moments before, Cohen had felt like he'd been shrink-wrapped. Now he felt like he was lying at the heart of a giant fluffy pillow. The black rubber surface swelled up all around him.
Hot flashes pulsed through him. They pulsed and pulsed and focused on his balls and penis until his whole crotch was glowing with warmth. The cream slithered all around him and engulfed his twitching erection. Cohen felt the urge to wrap a hand around his cock and rub the pleasant cream into his shaft. He couldn't move. Not because the rubber sheets were wrapped too tightly around him, but because the warm creamy substance had sapped all the energy right out of him. It was like lying in a warm bed in an icy room and feeling too comfortable to move. The vac-bed continued to swell up as more and more thick cream piled up around him.
Erica sat astride him, or rather sat astride the swollen bag. He felt the pressure of her legs transmit through the bag and move the wonderful cream against his body. He looked up at her through a haze of pleasure.
His brow wrinkled. Something wasn't right.
Her pale skin was flushed. No, it was more than that. Her skin was red, deep red all the way through as though she was so full of blood it had leaked out underneath her skin. And her eyes... what had happened to her eyes? He looked up into black pits that looked as though they fell all the way into hell itself. Were those...? There were horns on her head and he watched as black bat wings unfurled behind her.
Hallucination. He must be hallucinating.
"Comfortable?" Erica asked.
Her voice was wrong too. There were weird inflections to the edges, like metal on metal.
Where was the panic? Where was the anxiety? Despite Erica's sudden, demonic change of appearance he felt relaxed and languid. This was a total contrast to his brain, which was screaming wrong, wrong, wrong!
Erica bent over and hugged the swollen bag. Her large breasts—uncovered now, nipples dark like dried blood—pressed against the rubber above his chest. He felt the pressure come through the bag and thick cream.
"How does it feel—nice and creamy?" Erica asked.
She hugged the bag tighter and rubbed her pendulous breasts against the shiny black surface.
"Let me massage it into your flesh," she said.
She squeezed and hugged. Her hips moved up and down as she ground her sex against the bag. Her movements started currents in the substance that filled the bag. Cohen writhed in helpless pleasure as the warm cream squished against his body. He let out an involuntary moan as more hot flashes raced across his sensitised skin. Thick currents stirred his throbbing manhood. It felt like cream-covered fingers were tickling up and down his hard-on.
"He's nearly ready," Erica called back to the girl on the bed. "One more squirt, Estrumpthia."
"Mmm, I'll give him a nice thick one, Eryx," Esther said, her voice also picking up strange alien cadences.
She let out another loud sigh. The pipe vibrated. More slippery cream—a thick bulge—slithered down the tube and mushroomed up around Cohen. His eyelids flickered as more of the warm cream enveloped him.
"Feels nice, doesn't it," Eryx said. "Like being wrapped in a giant wet womb."
She wriggled her body on top of him. Her arms and thighs squeezed the swollen bag and he felt the thick cream squidge against his skin. All of Cohen's nerve endings felt amplified, as if the slightest breath had the force of a bomb. The devil girl on top of him pressed her waist down and her motions stirred the electrifying cream around his cock.
Fuck, he was going to come. Really come. Come so hard it would be painful.
"Yes, let it out," the devil girl writhing on top of him exhorted with a breathy sigh. "Let it all out."
What was happening? Cohen felt so good and yet weirdly wrong. His body felt like a train accelerating down a track with no buffers.
"Need help?" Eunice said, her voice like blades slathered in honey.
Like Eryx her skin had darkened to a deep red colour. She even had a devil tail. He saw it as she stood over him. He looked up into the moist lips of her sex and watched as they gaped open and shut like a mouth.
"Don't suffocate him, Eunectis" Eryx said.
"I'm only going to give him a little kiss with my pussy," Eunectis said.
Thursday, July 02, 2015
Shiborito in the Bag, part 4
"And brilliant," Cohen continued. "Who'd have thought it? Here I am, shrink-wrapped like a turkey and I don't feel any anxiety at all. Annette Brite is a genius."
Erica gave him a sly glance. "She has her uses," she said.
Esther threw her head back and moaned. Her body flexed and she pushed her hips against Eunice's face as the other girl continued to perform cunnilingus on her.
"I'm ready," Esther said, her voice breathy. "Bring the pipe."
Eunice stood up and walked over to the hanging vac-bed. She gave Cohen a teasing smile as she picked up the other end of the trailing air hose that led to the vac-bed. Curious, Cohen watched as she pulled an object out of a box and screwed it onto the end of the pipe. It looked like a mask, like maybe something a dentist might have given a patient to breathe from back in the old days. Or possibly an athletic cup. It had the same shape and was made out of black rubber.
On the bed Esther continued to frig herself towards orgasm. Her moans and sighs grew louder and louder. Behind her Erica continued to massage and play with the soft flesh of her boobs while kissing her on the back of her neck and shoulders. Eunice held the plastic funnel thing a little way from Esther's vagina, keeping out of the way while Esther masturbated. Cheeks flushed red, Esther nodded to Eunice and the other girl passed her the end of the pipe. Esther pressed the black rubber object tight to her crotch, making the resemblance between it and an athletic cup even more pronounced.
What was going on here? Cohen thought. It hadn't escaped his attention that the black rubber cup was attached to the end of the same pipe that led back to the bag he was currently sealed inside. Was she going to squirt into it, or maybe even pee? He'd told them he didn't want anything gross done to him.
Although he did feel a little thrill of excitement at the thought.
"Make it nice and thick and creamy," Eunice said, running a hand down Esther's pale arm.
"Mmm. It'll be really thick and creamy," Esther said. She writhed and pressed her hips up against the rubber cup between her legs.
Erica and Eunice walked towards Cohen with mischief in their eyes.
"What's going on?" Cohen asked.
Erica put a finger to her moist, bee-stung lips.
They were playing with him, that's all. More teasing.
Cohen wasn't sure. There was a prickly feeling on the back of his neck. Some atavistic sense was warning him of danger in the same way animals knew to find shelter before a storm hits.
No, no. It was more teasing. They were just playing with him.
Esther gave a loud orgasmic groan and flexed her spine as she pushed her hips out with the rubber cup still pressed to her crotch. Cohen heard an odd, thick, slithery sound—like thick mud moving through a pipe. Esther sighed and moaned and her body trembled. More liquid sounds vibrated down the pipe. It sounded like way more than a little squirt of love juice, more even than a good hard piss.
And far far thicker.
Cohen should have been excited—sexually excited—at the sight of a hot girl obviously orgasming right in front of him, but that prickly sensation on the back of his neck was growing harder and harder to ignore.
Erica kissed him on the cheek with soft lips.
Hot lips.
And hot in the boiling-kettle sense, not in the XXX-strip-show-hot sense. Almost hot enough to scald him. What was going on? No girl's lips should feel as hot as that.
Erica and Eunice gripped the sides of the vac-bed and lifted it up off the hooks suspended from the ceiling. They laid him flat on the floor.
"Hey hey," Cohen said. He tried to move his limbs, but his body was still vacuum-packed in place.
"Mmm, I'd like to sit on his face and smother him with my ass," Eunice said.
"And miss his sighs as Estrumpthia's cream fills his bag..." Erica said.
Over on the bed Esther gave another loud orgasmic cry. Erica crouched down, turned a valve at the bottom of the bag and the corner swelled up as something rushed in. Cohen's eyes widened as he felt a warm, moist and weirdly fluffy substance envelop his foot. What was that? It felt like the froth and bubbles from a bubble bath, but thicker—squishy like warm mud. His toes squelched through it and his skin lit up with a pleasant tingling sensation. Those tingles tickled up the nerves of his leg and nested in his balls. He liked it so much he started wiggling his toes to repeat the sensation.
There was more. The substance flowed down the pipe into the bag in a slow, thick wave. Surely this all couldn't be coming out of Esther's pussy. It wasn't possible. The corner of the bag continued to swell and the foam rolled up past his foot and engulfed his ankle.
Cohen blinked. More tingling pleasure pirouetted up his leg like crackly static electricity. He wanted more, wanted to be enveloped in it completely, wanted to bathe fully in whatever it was. But the hairs kept prickling on the back of his neck. The storm was coming and the force would tear him to pieces.
He heard Esther give another orgasmic moan and then more of those thick, slithery sounds—like slime sliding down a pipe. More of the bag filled out and that wave of tingling pleasure rolled up to his thighs.
"What's going on?" he asked.
Had someone changed the lights? Erica looked different. Her skin colour was darker, redder.
"Special sauce to marinade the meat," she said.
Erica gave him a sly glance. "She has her uses," she said.
Esther threw her head back and moaned. Her body flexed and she pushed her hips against Eunice's face as the other girl continued to perform cunnilingus on her.
"I'm ready," Esther said, her voice breathy. "Bring the pipe."
Eunice stood up and walked over to the hanging vac-bed. She gave Cohen a teasing smile as she picked up the other end of the trailing air hose that led to the vac-bed. Curious, Cohen watched as she pulled an object out of a box and screwed it onto the end of the pipe. It looked like a mask, like maybe something a dentist might have given a patient to breathe from back in the old days. Or possibly an athletic cup. It had the same shape and was made out of black rubber.
On the bed Esther continued to frig herself towards orgasm. Her moans and sighs grew louder and louder. Behind her Erica continued to massage and play with the soft flesh of her boobs while kissing her on the back of her neck and shoulders. Eunice held the plastic funnel thing a little way from Esther's vagina, keeping out of the way while Esther masturbated. Cheeks flushed red, Esther nodded to Eunice and the other girl passed her the end of the pipe. Esther pressed the black rubber object tight to her crotch, making the resemblance between it and an athletic cup even more pronounced.
What was going on here? Cohen thought. It hadn't escaped his attention that the black rubber cup was attached to the end of the same pipe that led back to the bag he was currently sealed inside. Was she going to squirt into it, or maybe even pee? He'd told them he didn't want anything gross done to him.
Although he did feel a little thrill of excitement at the thought.
"Make it nice and thick and creamy," Eunice said, running a hand down Esther's pale arm.
"Mmm. It'll be really thick and creamy," Esther said. She writhed and pressed her hips up against the rubber cup between her legs.
Erica and Eunice walked towards Cohen with mischief in their eyes.
"What's going on?" Cohen asked.
Erica put a finger to her moist, bee-stung lips.
They were playing with him, that's all. More teasing.
Cohen wasn't sure. There was a prickly feeling on the back of his neck. Some atavistic sense was warning him of danger in the same way animals knew to find shelter before a storm hits.
No, no. It was more teasing. They were just playing with him.
Esther gave a loud orgasmic groan and flexed her spine as she pushed her hips out with the rubber cup still pressed to her crotch. Cohen heard an odd, thick, slithery sound—like thick mud moving through a pipe. Esther sighed and moaned and her body trembled. More liquid sounds vibrated down the pipe. It sounded like way more than a little squirt of love juice, more even than a good hard piss.
And far far thicker.
Cohen should have been excited—sexually excited—at the sight of a hot girl obviously orgasming right in front of him, but that prickly sensation on the back of his neck was growing harder and harder to ignore.
Erica kissed him on the cheek with soft lips.
Hot lips.
And hot in the boiling-kettle sense, not in the XXX-strip-show-hot sense. Almost hot enough to scald him. What was going on? No girl's lips should feel as hot as that.
Erica and Eunice gripped the sides of the vac-bed and lifted it up off the hooks suspended from the ceiling. They laid him flat on the floor.
"Hey hey," Cohen said. He tried to move his limbs, but his body was still vacuum-packed in place.
"Mmm, I'd like to sit on his face and smother him with my ass," Eunice said.
"And miss his sighs as Estrumpthia's cream fills his bag..." Erica said.
Over on the bed Esther gave another loud orgasmic cry. Erica crouched down, turned a valve at the bottom of the bag and the corner swelled up as something rushed in. Cohen's eyes widened as he felt a warm, moist and weirdly fluffy substance envelop his foot. What was that? It felt like the froth and bubbles from a bubble bath, but thicker—squishy like warm mud. His toes squelched through it and his skin lit up with a pleasant tingling sensation. Those tingles tickled up the nerves of his leg and nested in his balls. He liked it so much he started wiggling his toes to repeat the sensation.
There was more. The substance flowed down the pipe into the bag in a slow, thick wave. Surely this all couldn't be coming out of Esther's pussy. It wasn't possible. The corner of the bag continued to swell and the foam rolled up past his foot and engulfed his ankle.
Cohen blinked. More tingling pleasure pirouetted up his leg like crackly static electricity. He wanted more, wanted to be enveloped in it completely, wanted to bathe fully in whatever it was. But the hairs kept prickling on the back of his neck. The storm was coming and the force would tear him to pieces.
He heard Esther give another orgasmic moan and then more of those thick, slithery sounds—like slime sliding down a pipe. More of the bag filled out and that wave of tingling pleasure rolled up to his thighs.
"What's going on?" he asked.
Had someone changed the lights? Erica looked different. Her skin colour was darker, redder.
"Special sauce to marinade the meat," she said.
Wednesday, July 01, 2015
Shiborito in the Bag, part 3
"We've tied you up..." Erica started.
"...now we tease you," Eunice finished.
Erica and Eunice embraced and came together in a sloppy and extremely passionate kiss right in front of him.
Oh wow, Cohen thought.
It wasn't a quick peck either. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies as their lips locked and their tongues tangled.
"Don't leave me out," Esther said.
She sat on the glossy black bed at the back of the room and kicked off her white stiletto heels.
"Of course not," Eunice said after breaking her amorous embrace with Erica.
"Don't go anywhere," Erica turned and said to Cohen with a smile that indicated she knew perfectly well he couldn't.
Cohen attempted a shrug. It was about all the movement he could manage at the moment.
Grinning from ear to ear, he watched as Erica and Eunice walked over and joined Esther on the bed. Were they really going to put on a show for him? It looked that way as Erica and Eunice sat either side of Esther. Esther turned to Erica and their full lips came together in a kiss. On the other side Eunice left a line of kisses down Esther's neck. Her hand pawed at and squeezed at the considerable bulge of Esther's breast. The girls started to moan and sigh as they got more into it.
Esther switched her attentions to Eunice and their lips met in another frenzied bout of kissing. The hands of the girls slid over and fondled each other's bodies. Cohen, suspended in the vac-bed, watched with mounting fascination. He'd never seen anything like this before, not in the flesh.
They peeled off the shiny rubber layers of their clothing, like presents unwrapped on Christmas Day long after the children had gone to bed for the night. Esther's vinyl bra was first to go. Cohen's smile grew broader as the pale mounds of Esther's chest became visible. They were an impressive pair—big and firm. Each round mound was topped with a pointed nipple surrounded by a pale pink disc.
That was some pair, Cohen thought. Erica and Eunice seemed inclined to agree. Their heads bobbed down and Esther tipped her head back and sighed as Erica and Eunice flicked her nipples with moist tongues.
Cohen watched them wishing he could join in. He supposed that was the point of the tease. Cohen squirmed as his swelling erection slid up against his belly. He would have liked to wrap his hand around it, but the vac-bed allowed no movement.
The three girls were really into each other. Things were getting well and truly XXX-rated on the bed. Erica and Eunice briefly stood up to remove their shiny panties and fishnet stockings. Esther didn't need to do the same as Erica and Eunice removed her clothes for her.
Now that all three were fully naked, Cohen was staggered by the perfection of their bodies. Top porn stars didn't look this good. What were they doing here, in some shitty little back-alley BDSM dungeon? He wondered how much Erica had meant when she'd said "that costs extra," because he'd definitely pay if he could afford it.
Erica and Eunice returned to the swollen goodness of Esther's boobs. The sucked on her nipples with sensual lips while their hands rubbed against the mound of her pussy. Esther gave out a series of short little gasps as nimble fingers crept between the folds of her labia.
Cohen was hard enough for the enveloping rubber sheet to feel uncomfortably tight around his straining erection. If only he could reach his cock. That was the point though, to keep him frustrated and let the sexual tension build and build. It was effective. Having his body constrained like this would normally set off his anxiety. Thanks to the girls' little 'show' he was too distracted.
Eunice went down on her knees between Esther's legs. She buried her face in Esther's crotch and worked her tongue against the other woman's pussy. Erica stood up on the bed with her legs apart and posed for Cohen as Esther tilted her head up and lapped at her sex.
"Like the show?" Erica asked Cohen.
"Loving it," Cohen called back. "You know, I thought she was mad when she suggested this. When I went into her shop looking for something to calm me down and relax me I thought she'd recommend some herbal bath, or maybe a massage. Instead she suggests I visit a dominatrix dungeon instead. Crazy."
Erica sat behind Esther. Her hands massaged the creamy curves of Esther's breasts while the other girl twisted her head to the side to kiss her. Eunice continued her merciless attack on Esther's pussy with her tongue. Both Erica and Eunice focused their attentions on the girl between them without thought to their own pleasure. Red flushes blemished Esther's otherwise pristine skin and her thighs trembled as her resistance crumbled beneath their ministrations.
"And brilliant," Cohen continued. "Who'd have thought it? Here I am, shrink-wrapped like a turkey and I don't feel any anxiety at all. Annette Brite is a genius."
"...now we tease you," Eunice finished.
Erica and Eunice embraced and came together in a sloppy and extremely passionate kiss right in front of him.
Oh wow, Cohen thought.
It wasn't a quick peck either. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies as their lips locked and their tongues tangled.
"Don't leave me out," Esther said.
She sat on the glossy black bed at the back of the room and kicked off her white stiletto heels.
"Of course not," Eunice said after breaking her amorous embrace with Erica.
"Don't go anywhere," Erica turned and said to Cohen with a smile that indicated she knew perfectly well he couldn't.
Cohen attempted a shrug. It was about all the movement he could manage at the moment.
Grinning from ear to ear, he watched as Erica and Eunice walked over and joined Esther on the bed. Were they really going to put on a show for him? It looked that way as Erica and Eunice sat either side of Esther. Esther turned to Erica and their full lips came together in a kiss. On the other side Eunice left a line of kisses down Esther's neck. Her hand pawed at and squeezed at the considerable bulge of Esther's breast. The girls started to moan and sigh as they got more into it.
Esther switched her attentions to Eunice and their lips met in another frenzied bout of kissing. The hands of the girls slid over and fondled each other's bodies. Cohen, suspended in the vac-bed, watched with mounting fascination. He'd never seen anything like this before, not in the flesh.
They peeled off the shiny rubber layers of their clothing, like presents unwrapped on Christmas Day long after the children had gone to bed for the night. Esther's vinyl bra was first to go. Cohen's smile grew broader as the pale mounds of Esther's chest became visible. They were an impressive pair—big and firm. Each round mound was topped with a pointed nipple surrounded by a pale pink disc.
That was some pair, Cohen thought. Erica and Eunice seemed inclined to agree. Their heads bobbed down and Esther tipped her head back and sighed as Erica and Eunice flicked her nipples with moist tongues.
Cohen watched them wishing he could join in. He supposed that was the point of the tease. Cohen squirmed as his swelling erection slid up against his belly. He would have liked to wrap his hand around it, but the vac-bed allowed no movement.
The three girls were really into each other. Things were getting well and truly XXX-rated on the bed. Erica and Eunice briefly stood up to remove their shiny panties and fishnet stockings. Esther didn't need to do the same as Erica and Eunice removed her clothes for her.
Now that all three were fully naked, Cohen was staggered by the perfection of their bodies. Top porn stars didn't look this good. What were they doing here, in some shitty little back-alley BDSM dungeon? He wondered how much Erica had meant when she'd said "that costs extra," because he'd definitely pay if he could afford it.
Erica and Eunice returned to the swollen goodness of Esther's boobs. The sucked on her nipples with sensual lips while their hands rubbed against the mound of her pussy. Esther gave out a series of short little gasps as nimble fingers crept between the folds of her labia.
Cohen was hard enough for the enveloping rubber sheet to feel uncomfortably tight around his straining erection. If only he could reach his cock. That was the point though, to keep him frustrated and let the sexual tension build and build. It was effective. Having his body constrained like this would normally set off his anxiety. Thanks to the girls' little 'show' he was too distracted.
Eunice went down on her knees between Esther's legs. She buried her face in Esther's crotch and worked her tongue against the other woman's pussy. Erica stood up on the bed with her legs apart and posed for Cohen as Esther tilted her head up and lapped at her sex.
"Like the show?" Erica asked Cohen.
"Loving it," Cohen called back. "You know, I thought she was mad when she suggested this. When I went into her shop looking for something to calm me down and relax me I thought she'd recommend some herbal bath, or maybe a massage. Instead she suggests I visit a dominatrix dungeon instead. Crazy."
Erica sat behind Esther. Her hands massaged the creamy curves of Esther's breasts while the other girl twisted her head to the side to kiss her. Eunice continued her merciless attack on Esther's pussy with her tongue. Both Erica and Eunice focused their attentions on the girl between them without thought to their own pleasure. Red flushes blemished Esther's otherwise pristine skin and her thighs trembled as her resistance crumbled beneath their ministrations.
"And brilliant," Cohen continued. "Who'd have thought it? Here I am, shrink-wrapped like a turkey and I don't feel any anxiety at all. Annette Brite is a genius."
uh oh, it wasn't Inari that sent him here.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Shiborito in the Bag, part 2
"Oh," Eunice's eyes lit up. "Why don't we try out that new vac-bed?"
"Oh yes." Erica ran a tongue over her bee-stung lips. "What a good idea."
"Vac-bed?" Cohen queried.
"Go and get Esther to fetch it down," Erica said. "Then we can see what Mr Cohen thinks."
Eunice went away and returned with another statuesque, voluptuous beauty. Cohen's eyes boggled. He was starting to wonder if he'd stepped through the door and somehow been teleported to Silicone Valley on the other side of the world. Where else would he see so many busty beauties other than on the set of an expensive porn film?
The new girl, Esther, was pale-skinned almost to the point of alabaster. She had blue eyes, long silky platinum-blonde hair and a shy smile. She and Eunice were carrying some kind of long metal frame with glossy black latex stretched between it. Eunice also carried a squat little vacuum cleaner in her other hand. Intrigued, he watched as they laid the framework out on the floor and attached the black rubber hose that ran out from the bottom corner to the squat little vacuum cleaner.
"Strip off and in you get," Erica said to Cohen.
"Uh?" He stared at her blankly.
Eunice lifted up a black sheet. Cohen saw that the item they'd brought down looked like a sleeping bag made out of black latex and stretched across a metal frame.
"You want me to get in there?" he asked. "Is it safe?"
He didn't want to get suffocated by accident.
"We're using the open face for your first time," Eunice said. She put her arm through a circular opening in the top sheet.
"Oh, okay."
The three women watched Cohen undress with amused smiles. Cohen knew he might not be the tallest man in the world, but he hadn't done too badly when they'd been handing out dicks. The women noticed too. Erica moistened her lips and Eunice nodded approvingly as he dropped his underpants to his ankles and kicked them away. He got down and lay between the sheets. The rubber felt soft and stretchy against his skin. Eunice pulled the top sheet over him, lining up the hole with his face. She fastened the sides.
"What's this supposed to achieve," Cohen asked.
The weirdness gave him pleasant little goose bumps, but he failed to see what was special about getting inside a rubber bag.
"It's about ceding control," Erica said. "Once all the air is sucked out you won't be able to move. You'll be completely helpless and under our control."
"Ah, that's what the woman said I should do, the one who recommended I visit here. She said my anxiety stemmed from trust issues and that was causing me to pile too much work on myself. She said I needed to learn to delegate. It's tough. You can't rely on employees nowadays. It's the kids. They spend all their time on their iPads and smartphones. I have to do their work to make sure it gets done. And then I get stressed out."
Erica crouched down next to him and pushed the opening down. The rubber stretched around the sides of his face and formed a tight seal. She brought her face closer, almost as though she was shaping up to plant those full sensual lips on his in a kiss, then pulled away at the last moment.
Tease, Cohen thought.
"The normal top sheet is closed off and only has a little breathing hose for the mouth. Some people get a thrill from being blind and helpless, knowing their air could be cut off at any moment."
"But not so good with someone that suffers with anxiety," Cohen said.
"We did take that into account," Erica said.
"So I get the training wheels," he said. It felt like he was staring out through a rubber porthole.
"This model is quite popular with our other clients," Erica said.
"Gives us much better access for when they want us to smother them with our asses," Eunice said. She turned and pinched the cheek of quite possibly the finest bottom Cohen had ever seen in the flesh.
"Is there a model with another hole, lower down?" Cohen motioned with his eyes to his crotch.
"That one costs extra," Erica said.
That meant it was possible then, Cohen thought. He might enquire just how much when arranging his next session.
Eunice flicked the switch on the vacuum cleaner and the motor started up with a whine. All over his body Cohen felt the supple surface of the latex sheets brush against and wrap around his skin. He shifted into a more comfortable position as the air was drawn out of the bag and the warm sheets moulded tightly to the contours of his body. The rubber was so tight it formed a second skin pressing all across his body. It felt a little unusual—but not really the kind of thing that would have him jizzing in his pants like it probably did for some fetishists.
With Cohen firmly constrained, Erica turned a valve on the bottom of the bed and Eunice disconnected the hose from the vacuum cleaner.
"How does that feel?" Erica asked.
"Like I've been shrink-wrapped," Cohen said, which was more or less the truth.
He wriggled experimentally. The rubber gave a little, but not much.
"A quite effective form of restraint, would you agree?" Erica said.
He wriggled harder. The soft latex had formed a second skin encasing him.
"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," he said.
"That would be the point. Anxious?"
"A little," Cohen said. "But I'm guessing that's also the point—to enable me to get over it."
Erica and Eunice gripped each side of the vac-bed and tilted it up to vertical. Immobilized, Cohen watched them through the face hole as they lifted him up off the floor and attached the frame to hooks hanging down from the ceiling.
"I feel like Han Solo encased in carbonite," Cohen said.
The other girls said nothing.
"Not Star Wars fans then," Cohen said.
Apparently not. The girls didn't say anything as they stepped back to admire their work.
"What now?" Cohen asked.
"We've tied you up..." Erica started.
"...now we tease you," Eunice finished.
"Oh yes." Erica ran a tongue over her bee-stung lips. "What a good idea."
"Vac-bed?" Cohen queried.
"Go and get Esther to fetch it down," Erica said. "Then we can see what Mr Cohen thinks."
Eunice went away and returned with another statuesque, voluptuous beauty. Cohen's eyes boggled. He was starting to wonder if he'd stepped through the door and somehow been teleported to Silicone Valley on the other side of the world. Where else would he see so many busty beauties other than on the set of an expensive porn film?
The new girl, Esther, was pale-skinned almost to the point of alabaster. She had blue eyes, long silky platinum-blonde hair and a shy smile. She and Eunice were carrying some kind of long metal frame with glossy black latex stretched between it. Eunice also carried a squat little vacuum cleaner in her other hand. Intrigued, he watched as they laid the framework out on the floor and attached the black rubber hose that ran out from the bottom corner to the squat little vacuum cleaner.
"Strip off and in you get," Erica said to Cohen.
"Uh?" He stared at her blankly.
Eunice lifted up a black sheet. Cohen saw that the item they'd brought down looked like a sleeping bag made out of black latex and stretched across a metal frame.
"You want me to get in there?" he asked. "Is it safe?"
He didn't want to get suffocated by accident.
"We're using the open face for your first time," Eunice said. She put her arm through a circular opening in the top sheet.
"Oh, okay."
The three women watched Cohen undress with amused smiles. Cohen knew he might not be the tallest man in the world, but he hadn't done too badly when they'd been handing out dicks. The women noticed too. Erica moistened her lips and Eunice nodded approvingly as he dropped his underpants to his ankles and kicked them away. He got down and lay between the sheets. The rubber felt soft and stretchy against his skin. Eunice pulled the top sheet over him, lining up the hole with his face. She fastened the sides.
"What's this supposed to achieve," Cohen asked.
The weirdness gave him pleasant little goose bumps, but he failed to see what was special about getting inside a rubber bag.
"It's about ceding control," Erica said. "Once all the air is sucked out you won't be able to move. You'll be completely helpless and under our control."
"Ah, that's what the woman said I should do, the one who recommended I visit here. She said my anxiety stemmed from trust issues and that was causing me to pile too much work on myself. She said I needed to learn to delegate. It's tough. You can't rely on employees nowadays. It's the kids. They spend all their time on their iPads and smartphones. I have to do their work to make sure it gets done. And then I get stressed out."
Erica crouched down next to him and pushed the opening down. The rubber stretched around the sides of his face and formed a tight seal. She brought her face closer, almost as though she was shaping up to plant those full sensual lips on his in a kiss, then pulled away at the last moment.
Tease, Cohen thought.
"The normal top sheet is closed off and only has a little breathing hose for the mouth. Some people get a thrill from being blind and helpless, knowing their air could be cut off at any moment."
"But not so good with someone that suffers with anxiety," Cohen said.
"We did take that into account," Erica said.
"So I get the training wheels," he said. It felt like he was staring out through a rubber porthole.
"This model is quite popular with our other clients," Erica said.
"Gives us much better access for when they want us to smother them with our asses," Eunice said. She turned and pinched the cheek of quite possibly the finest bottom Cohen had ever seen in the flesh.
"Is there a model with another hole, lower down?" Cohen motioned with his eyes to his crotch.
"That one costs extra," Erica said.
That meant it was possible then, Cohen thought. He might enquire just how much when arranging his next session.
Eunice flicked the switch on the vacuum cleaner and the motor started up with a whine. All over his body Cohen felt the supple surface of the latex sheets brush against and wrap around his skin. He shifted into a more comfortable position as the air was drawn out of the bag and the warm sheets moulded tightly to the contours of his body. The rubber was so tight it formed a second skin pressing all across his body. It felt a little unusual—but not really the kind of thing that would have him jizzing in his pants like it probably did for some fetishists.
With Cohen firmly constrained, Erica turned a valve on the bottom of the bed and Eunice disconnected the hose from the vacuum cleaner.
"How does that feel?" Erica asked.
"Like I've been shrink-wrapped," Cohen said, which was more or less the truth.
He wriggled experimentally. The rubber gave a little, but not much.
"A quite effective form of restraint, would you agree?" Erica said.
He wriggled harder. The soft latex had formed a second skin encasing him.
"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," he said.
"That would be the point. Anxious?"
"A little," Cohen said. "But I'm guessing that's also the point—to enable me to get over it."
Erica and Eunice gripped each side of the vac-bed and tilted it up to vertical. Immobilized, Cohen watched them through the face hole as they lifted him up off the floor and attached the frame to hooks hanging down from the ceiling.
"I feel like Han Solo encased in carbonite," Cohen said.
The other girls said nothing.
"Not Star Wars fans then," Cohen said.
Apparently not. The girls didn't say anything as they stepped back to admire their work.
"What now?" Cohen asked.
"We've tied you up..." Erica started.
"...now we tease you," Eunice finished.
Monday, June 29, 2015
Shiborito in the Bag, part 1
I had to put Okasare Kenny on hold while I sorted some things out as I mentioned last week. I know some readers weren't too happy with this. I wasn't either, but I realised I'd spread myself too thin and needed to focus on finishing off the things that had been hanging around for far longer (like Succubus Summoning 201!). While I straighten out some behind-scenes stuff here's a new story to tide you over until I get some new Sandwiched by shorts out. It's from my stockpile of already-complete stories waiting for the next collection in case some of you are worried I've lurched off in another direction or whether this one will be left incomplete.
Some of these characters might be familiar...
Shiborito in the Bag
The door was set in an alcove about halfway down a grubby little back alley. Paul Cohen supposed these places needed to be discreet. Even so, he was glad it was early in the afternoon and a bright sun—a rare sight for much of this overcast and rainy summer—was high up in the sky. He wouldn't have relished the prospect of walking down here after the sun went down.
The door was answered by a statuesque blonde and Cohen resisted the strong urge to let his jaw fall open like a trapdoor. He couldn't resist staring at her bosom. It was hard to miss. She was over six foot; he barely made five-and-a-half. That put her chest right in his eyeline and it was certainly eye-catching.
As big as your head, Cohen thought.
Her boobs were wrapped in extremely tight black latex. The material was glossy and stretched taut by her considerable chest. There was nothing covering her midriff and below the waist she was wearing nothing more than glossy black panties and fishnet stockings.
Cohen guessed that meant he had the right place then.
"I'm Paul, Paul Cohen," he said. "I think we spoke on the phone."
"So we did," the girl who advertised as Mistress Erica said.
Cohen was surprised at how good-looking she was. Her body was obviously amazing, but a lot of girls of her stature tended to look a little too masculine. Too rough. Her body was so amazing that, by rights, her face shouldn't match. Why else would she be here? But no, Cohen was wrong on that. She had the heart-shaped face and delicate features of a real beauty. Her size was the only thing not feminine about her. Everything else was front-cover glamour model. Maybe it was her size that held her back. She was tall enough to be a catwalk model but was far too curvaceous. They preferred beanpoles. Their loss.
"Come in," Mistress Erica said. Her glossy red lips turned up at the corners in a sultry smile.
Cohen got to admire more of her figure as he crossed the threshold and followed her down a bland corridor. Her outfit hid hardly anything and Cohen's heart rate quickened as he looked at the enticing swell of her ass. She looked like the over-glamorised street hooker of film fantasy, but she was right here—in the flesh—before him.
"Um, I've never done this before," Cohen confessed as Erica led him deeper into her parlour.
Mistress Erica looked back at him and smiled. "That's no problem at all."
"I have problems with anxiety," Cohen continued. "I get stressed out really easily. Too easily. A friend suggested a session with you might help."
"They did," Erica said.
"Yes," Cohen said. "They said I had problems delegating and trusting others. They thought it would be good for me to cede control to someone else in a controlled situation."
"Mmm," Erica said.
She led him through a door and into what he assumed was her dungeon. It looked more Fitness First than medieval. There were benches, stocks and other unorthodox-looking equipment, but they looked modern and had plenty of padding. There was even a wide, low bed covered in shiny black material over by the far wall. Cohen looked around and saw an impressive array of tools on the walls and in stands, ranging from the expected whips and canes to more esoteric instruments Cohen wasn't sure he wanted to know the use of.
"Um, I'm not really into the pain side of this," he said.
"No?" Erica said. She sounded disappointed.
"I don't want to go that far," he said. "I don't mind putting you in control for a session but I don't want to get hurt or be forced to do anything really disgusting."
"Hmm." Erica put a finger to her full lips and pondered. Cohen noticed she had a false nail that was jet-black in colour and tapered to a long point like a talon.
They were interrupted by the door at the far end of the room opening and another girl walking in. Like Erica she was statuesque and amply stocked in the bosom department. As with Erica, her eye-catching bosom stretched her shiny rubber top almost to bursting. As with Erica, Cohen wondered what someone with such an attractive face and sexy body was doing working in a place like this. He wondered if they were related. They looked similar apart from the newcomer being a brunette rather than a blonde like Erica.
"Oh Eunice," Erica said. "I wonder if you can help Mr Cohen here. He's come in for a session, but he's new to all this and a little apprehensive."
Cohen nodded. "I don't want to be hurt," he said.
"We could start him on a little light bondage," Eunice suggested. "Maybe some tie and tease."
That didn't sound so bad, Cohen thought.
"Oh," Eunice's eyes lit up. "Why don't we try out that new vac-bed?"
to be continued tomorrow...
Some of these characters might be familiar...
Shiborito in the Bag
The door was set in an alcove about halfway down a grubby little back alley. Paul Cohen supposed these places needed to be discreet. Even so, he was glad it was early in the afternoon and a bright sun—a rare sight for much of this overcast and rainy summer—was high up in the sky. He wouldn't have relished the prospect of walking down here after the sun went down.
The door was answered by a statuesque blonde and Cohen resisted the strong urge to let his jaw fall open like a trapdoor. He couldn't resist staring at her bosom. It was hard to miss. She was over six foot; he barely made five-and-a-half. That put her chest right in his eyeline and it was certainly eye-catching.
As big as your head, Cohen thought.
Her boobs were wrapped in extremely tight black latex. The material was glossy and stretched taut by her considerable chest. There was nothing covering her midriff and below the waist she was wearing nothing more than glossy black panties and fishnet stockings.
Cohen guessed that meant he had the right place then.
"I'm Paul, Paul Cohen," he said. "I think we spoke on the phone."
"So we did," the girl who advertised as Mistress Erica said.
Cohen was surprised at how good-looking she was. Her body was obviously amazing, but a lot of girls of her stature tended to look a little too masculine. Too rough. Her body was so amazing that, by rights, her face shouldn't match. Why else would she be here? But no, Cohen was wrong on that. She had the heart-shaped face and delicate features of a real beauty. Her size was the only thing not feminine about her. Everything else was front-cover glamour model. Maybe it was her size that held her back. She was tall enough to be a catwalk model but was far too curvaceous. They preferred beanpoles. Their loss.
"Come in," Mistress Erica said. Her glossy red lips turned up at the corners in a sultry smile.
Cohen got to admire more of her figure as he crossed the threshold and followed her down a bland corridor. Her outfit hid hardly anything and Cohen's heart rate quickened as he looked at the enticing swell of her ass. She looked like the over-glamorised street hooker of film fantasy, but she was right here—in the flesh—before him.
"Um, I've never done this before," Cohen confessed as Erica led him deeper into her parlour.
Mistress Erica looked back at him and smiled. "That's no problem at all."
"I have problems with anxiety," Cohen continued. "I get stressed out really easily. Too easily. A friend suggested a session with you might help."
"They did," Erica said.
"Yes," Cohen said. "They said I had problems delegating and trusting others. They thought it would be good for me to cede control to someone else in a controlled situation."
"Mmm," Erica said.
She led him through a door and into what he assumed was her dungeon. It looked more Fitness First than medieval. There were benches, stocks and other unorthodox-looking equipment, but they looked modern and had plenty of padding. There was even a wide, low bed covered in shiny black material over by the far wall. Cohen looked around and saw an impressive array of tools on the walls and in stands, ranging from the expected whips and canes to more esoteric instruments Cohen wasn't sure he wanted to know the use of.
"Um, I'm not really into the pain side of this," he said.
"No?" Erica said. She sounded disappointed.
"I don't want to go that far," he said. "I don't mind putting you in control for a session but I don't want to get hurt or be forced to do anything really disgusting."
"Hmm." Erica put a finger to her full lips and pondered. Cohen noticed she had a false nail that was jet-black in colour and tapered to a long point like a talon.
They were interrupted by the door at the far end of the room opening and another girl walking in. Like Erica she was statuesque and amply stocked in the bosom department. As with Erica, her eye-catching bosom stretched her shiny rubber top almost to bursting. As with Erica, Cohen wondered what someone with such an attractive face and sexy body was doing working in a place like this. He wondered if they were related. They looked similar apart from the newcomer being a brunette rather than a blonde like Erica.
"Oh Eunice," Erica said. "I wonder if you can help Mr Cohen here. He's come in for a session, but he's new to all this and a little apprehensive."
Cohen nodded. "I don't want to be hurt," he said.
"We could start him on a little light bondage," Eunice suggested. "Maybe some tie and tease."
That didn't sound so bad, Cohen thought.
"Oh," Eunice's eyes lit up. "Why don't we try out that new vac-bed?"
to be continued tomorrow...
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Wednesday, March 04, 2015
New Erotic Short - Sandwiched by Slimes
Finally (it's only a couple of weeks late) the second short in the Sandwiched by series is up. It's not exactly short either. I got a little carried away and there's over 10K words of slimy fun (for the slime girls, not necessarily their prey ;) ) in this one.
It's available for the cheap price of $0.99 from:
Amazon
Smashwords (which will distribute it to other sites)
Kobo
Here's the blurb:
Sandwiched by is a new sexy series of monster girl erotic horror shorts from the master of dark erotica, M.E. Hydra. This, the second story, “Sandwiched by Slimes”, sees a man engulfed in ecstasy by two sexy slime girls.
Freddy Lamb used to be a normal engineering student like any other. Now he’s Sir Fredrick of Lamb, a brave adventurer tasked with deposing the villainous sorcerer king of a strange world that resembles a computer role-playing game. In reality he’d rather escape this crazy computer game world and find a way back home to Earth. He thinks the exit may lie in an unusual bonus dungeon, but blocking his path are two sexy slime girls, Corybosom and Rubisia. They intend to envelop him in their gelatinous bodies and melt all his resistance away with pleasure. They also don’t intend playing by the rules . . .
Sandwiched by. One dude, two sexy babes. A perfect fantasy . . . or maybe not . . .
And of course I couldn't leave it there without providing a little snippet to get the blood going:
“Is this a hentai dungeon?” he asked the two slime girls.
They looked as though they didn’t understand his question. Freddy thought they were pretending.
“I mean, is this a sex dungeon?” he elaborated.
The slime girls’ eyes lit up at the mention of sex.
“We do like sex,” Corybosom said.
“We’re succubus slimes,” Rubisia said. “It’s what we feed on.”
“Mmm yes. We like nothing better than slurping all the cum out of a virile man’s body,” Corybosom said.
Freddy blushed. That confirmed his suspicions at least. Normal RPGs didn’t go near sex apart from the mildest of innuendo. But there was a type—a more specialized niche—of RPGs where sex was integral to both the art and gameplay. Those games were made only in Japan as far as he knew and were most definitely for adults only.
“I know what this is,” he said. “It’s battlefuck rules.”
The two slime girls pretended not to understand.
“We don’t fight with weapons in here,” Freddy said. “We fight with sex.”
“This is a sex-themed dungeon,” Rubisia said.
Freddy smiled. He’d figured it out. Battlefuck rules. He didn’t know those games very well, but he’d heard of them. He thought back to the shop owner who’d sold him the map. He’d thought the queer leer on the other man’s face was a little odd at the time. Pervy fucker. He knew exactly what this dungeon was about.
“So how does this work? The victor is the one that makes the other come first?” he asked.
“Something like that,” Corybosom said.
She gathered the gelatinous substance of her body together into a big round cushion. She sat back on it and opened her legs. Staring directly at Freddy, she reached down between her legs and parted her labia with her fingers.
Freddy took off the armour protecting his legs and removed his undergarments. His erection popped up and stood out from his crotch. That’s what no sex at all since arriving on this freaky world did to you, he thought. Even sentient giant gelatinous blobs started to look sexy after that long.
Corybosom beckoned him on with a finger. She pouted plump, kissable lips.
Time to see if his theory was correct then, Freddy thought. He stepped up between her legs. He put his hands on her hips. They felt moist and elastic like jelly. He aimed his cock in the direction of her gaping sex and pushed forwards with his hips. Corybosom’s head went back and she gave a little “ooh” of pleasure as he entered her.
don’t melt my dick off. don’t melt my dick off.
She didn’t melt his dick off. He didn’t feel any acidy burning sensation. She wasn’t cold and snot-like either. Instead she felt warm inside and the jellylike substance of her body pressed pleasantly against his erection. A muscular swell of thicker jelly rolled down his shaft and sucked him deeper into her.
“Mmm, I love the feel of a big hard cock inside me,” Corybosom said.
She crossed her legs behind him. The rest of her amorphous mass rolled forwards and partially engulfed his legs. That felt pleasant as well, like dipping his legs in a warm mud bath. Looking down it was weird to see his cock through her transparent skin. He could see his foreskin move back and forth as her semi-liquid insides rippled up and down his shaft in gentle tugs.
He lost two health points.
It was another quirk of this strange game world. In the back of his mind he could see a full status screen representing him, complete with stats and current level. It had appeared the moment he’d woken up in this universe.
The damage was okay. Battlefuck rules were the same as normal RPG combat, but with all the normal attacks replaced with sex acts. Losing two HP was nothing. He had plenty left.
Now it was time for his ‘attack’.
He powered his hips forwards with his buttocks. Corybosom sighed in pleasure as his cock sank deeper into her gelatinous form.
He lost two HP.
Huh, wait. That couldn’t be right.
“How come I took damage?” he said. “I thought this was a sex battle. You know, both of us taking it in turns to make a sex attack.”
Corybosom looked up at him and smiled. Mischief glimmered in her eyes.
“Oh yes, about that . . .”
The malleable jelly of her body rippled up his cock in a teasing suck that left his knees feeling like they’d been replaced by overcooked spaghetti.
“. . . we may have been a teensy bit remiss in not correcting a tiny little misunderstanding.”
“This isn’t a battlefuck dungeon?”
Freddy had that just-fallen-into-a-yawning-pit sensation he’d just made a massive booboo.
If the scenario sounds familiar, yes, this is the same universe as Jackson in HRPG-World. This one's a little lighter and more fun than my usual stories. If you like the dark stuff, don't worry, there are plenty of darker tales on the way in the next collection coming out in a couple of weeks. (oh, so much darkness . . .)
I hope you all find "Sandwiched by Slimes" to be worth a dollar of your hard-earned money. Please tell me what you think in the comments below. Do you like Corybosom and Rubisia and would you like to see more of them?
Next up it's tentacle time as a lucky someone gets "Sandwiched by Scyllas". I'll try to get it out before the end of the month this time!
It's available for the cheap price of $0.99 from:
Amazon
Smashwords (which will distribute it to other sites)
Kobo
Here's the blurb:
Sandwiched by is a new sexy series of monster girl erotic horror shorts from the master of dark erotica, M.E. Hydra. This, the second story, “Sandwiched by Slimes”, sees a man engulfed in ecstasy by two sexy slime girls.
Freddy Lamb used to be a normal engineering student like any other. Now he’s Sir Fredrick of Lamb, a brave adventurer tasked with deposing the villainous sorcerer king of a strange world that resembles a computer role-playing game. In reality he’d rather escape this crazy computer game world and find a way back home to Earth. He thinks the exit may lie in an unusual bonus dungeon, but blocking his path are two sexy slime girls, Corybosom and Rubisia. They intend to envelop him in their gelatinous bodies and melt all his resistance away with pleasure. They also don’t intend playing by the rules . . .
Sandwiched by. One dude, two sexy babes. A perfect fantasy . . . or maybe not . . .
And of course I couldn't leave it there without providing a little snippet to get the blood going:
“Is this a hentai dungeon?” he asked the two slime girls.
They looked as though they didn’t understand his question. Freddy thought they were pretending.
“I mean, is this a sex dungeon?” he elaborated.
The slime girls’ eyes lit up at the mention of sex.
“We do like sex,” Corybosom said.
“We’re succubus slimes,” Rubisia said. “It’s what we feed on.”
“Mmm yes. We like nothing better than slurping all the cum out of a virile man’s body,” Corybosom said.
Freddy blushed. That confirmed his suspicions at least. Normal RPGs didn’t go near sex apart from the mildest of innuendo. But there was a type—a more specialized niche—of RPGs where sex was integral to both the art and gameplay. Those games were made only in Japan as far as he knew and were most definitely for adults only.
“I know what this is,” he said. “It’s battlefuck rules.”
The two slime girls pretended not to understand.
“We don’t fight with weapons in here,” Freddy said. “We fight with sex.”
“This is a sex-themed dungeon,” Rubisia said.
Freddy smiled. He’d figured it out. Battlefuck rules. He didn’t know those games very well, but he’d heard of them. He thought back to the shop owner who’d sold him the map. He’d thought the queer leer on the other man’s face was a little odd at the time. Pervy fucker. He knew exactly what this dungeon was about.
“So how does this work? The victor is the one that makes the other come first?” he asked.
“Something like that,” Corybosom said.
She gathered the gelatinous substance of her body together into a big round cushion. She sat back on it and opened her legs. Staring directly at Freddy, she reached down between her legs and parted her labia with her fingers.
Freddy took off the armour protecting his legs and removed his undergarments. His erection popped up and stood out from his crotch. That’s what no sex at all since arriving on this freaky world did to you, he thought. Even sentient giant gelatinous blobs started to look sexy after that long.
Corybosom beckoned him on with a finger. She pouted plump, kissable lips.
Time to see if his theory was correct then, Freddy thought. He stepped up between her legs. He put his hands on her hips. They felt moist and elastic like jelly. He aimed his cock in the direction of her gaping sex and pushed forwards with his hips. Corybosom’s head went back and she gave a little “ooh” of pleasure as he entered her.
don’t melt my dick off. don’t melt my dick off.
She didn’t melt his dick off. He didn’t feel any acidy burning sensation. She wasn’t cold and snot-like either. Instead she felt warm inside and the jellylike substance of her body pressed pleasantly against his erection. A muscular swell of thicker jelly rolled down his shaft and sucked him deeper into her.
“Mmm, I love the feel of a big hard cock inside me,” Corybosom said.
She crossed her legs behind him. The rest of her amorphous mass rolled forwards and partially engulfed his legs. That felt pleasant as well, like dipping his legs in a warm mud bath. Looking down it was weird to see his cock through her transparent skin. He could see his foreskin move back and forth as her semi-liquid insides rippled up and down his shaft in gentle tugs.
He lost two health points.
It was another quirk of this strange game world. In the back of his mind he could see a full status screen representing him, complete with stats and current level. It had appeared the moment he’d woken up in this universe.
The damage was okay. Battlefuck rules were the same as normal RPG combat, but with all the normal attacks replaced with sex acts. Losing two HP was nothing. He had plenty left.
Now it was time for his ‘attack’.
He powered his hips forwards with his buttocks. Corybosom sighed in pleasure as his cock sank deeper into her gelatinous form.
He lost two HP.
Huh, wait. That couldn’t be right.
“How come I took damage?” he said. “I thought this was a sex battle. You know, both of us taking it in turns to make a sex attack.”
Corybosom looked up at him and smiled. Mischief glimmered in her eyes.
“Oh yes, about that . . .”
The malleable jelly of her body rippled up his cock in a teasing suck that left his knees feeling like they’d been replaced by overcooked spaghetti.
“. . . we may have been a teensy bit remiss in not correcting a tiny little misunderstanding.”
“This isn’t a battlefuck dungeon?”
Freddy had that just-fallen-into-a-yawning-pit sensation he’d just made a massive booboo.
If the scenario sounds familiar, yes, this is the same universe as Jackson in HRPG-World. This one's a little lighter and more fun than my usual stories. If you like the dark stuff, don't worry, there are plenty of darker tales on the way in the next collection coming out in a couple of weeks. (oh, so much darkness . . .)
I hope you all find "Sandwiched by Slimes" to be worth a dollar of your hard-earned money. Please tell me what you think in the comments below. Do you like Corybosom and Rubisia and would you like to see more of them?
Next up it's tentacle time as a lucky someone gets "Sandwiched by Scyllas". I'll try to get it out before the end of the month this time!
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