Threads: The Island Chapter 1

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Edwin

Edwin looked at the pile of paperwork on his desk and rubbed at his eyes. It had been a really long day, and only midway through what was bound to be a long week. It had begun with his friend Danny’s death two days ago, and since then the Island had been a hive of activity getting things prepared.

In a couple of days time Danny’s children would arrive on the Island, having just found out that they were triplets given up for adoption, and they’d be meeting here for the very first time. On top of that he had a burial to organise for Danny on the Island. Add in organising supplies and planning for every contingency, and it was no wonder he felt exhausted. It was two in the morning and high time he had some stress relief.

He got up from his desk, winced at the pain in his back and moved to the door of his office, part of his home on the Island upstairs from the clinic, and headed for the exit, moving quietly down the stairs as was his habit. Once outside he smiled. He’d always loved the cool breeze that caressed the Island through the night.

He turned left and took the path down to the beach, taking a right between two large bushes on the narrow path the kitchen staff used to bring supplies into the kitchens. A couple of turns and he was moving around the edge of the building where the Islands food was prepared and stored, unstaffed at this time of night. He knew if anyone spotted him they’d just assume he was going for his habitual late night snack, but he knew different.

He bypassed the main doors to the kitchen and entered the small courtyard that served the dual purpose of somewhere to store the trash and somewhere the chefs and porters could sneak out to for a smoke. Casually he glanced around and seeing no-one he slipped over to the backdoor of the pastry kitchen and entered a code in the keypad, a different code from the one normally used to open the door.

A quiet bump sounded next to one of the bins and he moved to the corner, reached down and pulled the handle that was now protruding from the flagstoned yard. A small hatch appeared with a ladder heading down, barely visible in the moonlight.

He quickly slid himself into the narrow passage and closed the hidden hatch above him, seeing the dim lights illuminating the twenty three rungs below him. Reaching the bottom he turned around and punched another code into the wall and the small box beside it opened. He pressed his hand to the small screen inside the box and the door beside him swung open.

Edwin smiled in anticipation. He had a lot of catching up to do.

He entered the saferoom, or as he thought of it, the ‘Bunker’ where he could retreat to if the Island was ever attacked. He ignored the open plan living area and kitchen and moved straight to the door on his left, a control room where he could make contact with the outside world if need be, but his focus wasn’t on the emergency facilities. He moved straight to the console housing the covert CCTV system that Danny Tripps had painstakingly built in secret over the last fifteen years.

His friends words came back to him, as they always did when he looked at the setup. “There’s no point in being trapped in here. Much better to see what’s going on outside. Then you retain an advantage the other side doesn’t even know about. Information is power.”

Edwin smiled and moved to the large leather desk chair facing the bank of fifteen screens. Three large screens, a dozen smaller, all assigned letters from A to O. The one hundred and thirty eight cameras hidden around the island were numbered, making the system incredibly simple to operate. Simply type in the letter for the screen then the camera number, hit enter and that’s what you saw.

The whole system was set up on a motion-activation principle, immediately discarding data that had nothing happening and that suited Edwins purposes perfectly.

He settled his fingers on the keyboard, typed A68 and hit Enter. The first of the three large screens flickered into view, a camera situated in the bedroom of Danny’s favourite PA, Patricia,. She was one of Edwin’s favourites too, a hot, toned blonde with a bundle of intelligence and determination. It wasn’t her intellect that interested him at present though as he watched the live feed from her vacant bedroom, his memory providing him with hundreds of images of her sleeping in that very bed.

He felt the familiar stirring in his groin and smiled. Time to move the recording back.

His fingers found the small dial next to the keyboard, punched in the camera number and then rotated it back. The simple system allowed him to review all recorded footage from that particular camera and he was viewing it in reverse. A couple of chambermaids darted around briefly at high speed, and then the footage caught up to Patricia undressing then sleeping. The footage continued in reverse at high speed, skipping past hours of İkitelli Escort her lying still. She’d been asleep for five hours or so when he saw her leap out of bed, naked, and grab a towel, then disappear backwards into the bathroom.

He reset the dial, his left hand coming to rest on his belt, and as the footage began to play on the screen he unfastened his belt and trousers.

Patricia appeared from the bathroom, her skin flushed from the shower, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, and as Edwin pulled down his fly and slid his hand in his trousers, she opened her towel.

Seeing her side on as she lifted the towel, her body taught and firm, her breasts pert and round, Edwin slipped his hand around his cock, slowly stroking himself as he watched her dry herself. She moved too quickly for him though, drying herself rapidly then slipping under the sheet on her bed, settling down to go to sleep.

Edwin frowned and punched in B69, bringing up the footage from the en-suite bathroom in Patricia’s room. He punched 69 in next to the dial and rolled it back, seeing her in a high-speed blur in the shower, moving it back to play as soon as the maid appeared who’d cleaned the bathroom earlier.

While he stroked himself in anticipation the maid finished her work, the lighting changed and Patricia appeared. Dressed only in a black thong, she walked up to the sink, her gorgeous breasts on display and as she brushed her teeth, Edwin zoomed the camera in on her breasts, stroking himself as he watched them jiggle back and forth with every motion of her arm.

“Come on, you hot bitch,” he muttered. “Get in the fucking shower.”

The teeth brushing continued for another minute and then she disappeared off screen, so Edwin zoomed the view back out, seeing her step into the shower cubicle. The water began immediately and he slowed the footage down as she stepped out the cubicle to remove her thong. In slow motion she inserted her thumbs in her waistband and bent over, sliding the black material down her hips, thighs and finally to the floor, and with a casual flick of her foot, the thong ended up back in the bedroom.

Edwins grip tightened on his cock. She always did this before she went in the shower. Always. He zoomed in a little closer.

Patricia stood up straight and stretched, her arms rising high above her head, her breasts jutting out. Edwin groaned, licking his lips in anticipation of what came next. Her right hand slid down over her taught, flat stomach, sliding down over her shaved skin until her middle finger made contact with her clitoris.

“Go on, you fucking slut,” he muttered, his fist pumping as he watched.

Patricia’s middle finger rubbed her clit up and down a couple of times, then in slow-motion, she moved it down her slit, rubbed up and down once, then plunged her middle finger deep inside her pussy.

“Fuck that dirty unwashed cunt, you whore,” Edwin growled. His fist was pumping furiously on his cock now, loving what he saw on the screen.

Patricia dipped her finger in and out three times, and as Edwin zoomed the view back out, he smiled wickedly as she raised the finger to her lips and sucked it into her mouth, her head tilted back.

“That’s a good slut,” He grunted.

She stepped forward into the shower, and Edwin stroked his cock, watching the hot water sluicing down the curves of her body. “Come on, you dirty bitch. Do it.” His fist was pumping rapidly up and down on his cock, his eyes fixated on the screen.

Patricia turned in the shower and squatted down, her back against the wall. Edwin smiled and zoomed the camera in, framing her as her legs came up and her buttocks rested on the shower floor. He could see her pussy, her asshole, tits and face and he felt his heart lift in excitement.

“Go on. Get busy.”

She tilted one hip and her left hand appeared under her ass, her index finger rubbing at her brown puckered hole.

“Do it, slut,” Edwin muttered.

Her right hand appeared between her legs, her fingertips brushing against her clit. Her mouth was open in anticipation, Edwin mirroring her expression on screen. Suddenly she slid two fingers into her pussy, plunging them in deep and her body stiffened in pleasure.

Edwin smiled. “And now the ass, you filthy little whore.”

Patricia’s finger that had been rubbing gently at her ass suddenly pushed, forcing her up to the first knuckle in that tightest of places. He watched as her expression turned nasty and she pushed harder, sinking the finger in her ass and the two in her pussy as deep as they would go. Her breathing was fast now, as intense as the expression on her face.

Edwin realised he was strangling his cock, his grip was so tight, so he eased up the pressure a fraction and continued stroking at a frantic pace, his free hand pulling his black shirt up around his shoulders in anticipation.

Patricia Escort Bayan began to plunge her fingers deep inside herself, fucking both her holes at once with vigour, and Edwin’s fist pumped up and down his cock, imagining it was his cock going in and out of her ass like that.

She paused for a second, adding a second finger to her asshole and a third to her pussy, then pushing hard, she slid them all back in again.

“Fucking filthy bitch,” he snarled, knowing what was coming next, feeling his balls begin to tighten in anticipation.

Patricia’s fingers were plunging in and out of her ass and cunt, as hard and fast as she could physically manage, and then her entire body stiffened and her head smacked back hard against the wall of the shower as she came.

Her fingers flew out her holes, all of them going rapidly into her wide open mouth, and as Edwin watched her suck on them, he saw her pussy twitching as she came and her ass opening and closing in glorious, exquisite detail. He came too.

Hot cum splattered out his cock onto his stomach, one spurt and a second, the remainder flopping and dripping onto his pelvis, matting his grey pubic hair, coating his hand.

Patricia’s mouth closed, sucking hard on those fingers that had been deep inside her wet pussy, her tight ass, her brow furrowed and her cheeks rosy as her orgasm washed over her.

“Fucking dirty little whore,” Edwin panted, his eyes glued to the screen as his hand fondled his sticky cock.

Patricia recovered quickly, her fingers leaving her mouth only to quickly tweak her nipples once, then she stood, rinsed herself off, washed her hands and turned the shower off.

Edwin leaned in the chair, panting and grinning as she left the shower. “Filthy fucking whore,” he muttered. Idly he wondered who he’d stroke off to tomorrow morning. Over the last decade his habit had sat him in this chair and made him stroke off to movie stars, musicians, models, hundreds of gorgeous women unknowingly recorded in their most intimate of moments while visiting the Island as guests of Danny. And Edwin had them all recorded and stored. All for his personal pleasure.

“Maybe the Doctor,” he muttered. “Or maybe I’ll get that slut to dress up for me again. Some new fodder arriving soon though.” He smiled, having seen the files of the three triplets. The two girls were hot. He was looking forward to seeing both of them in the most exquisite of detail.

Edwin carefully lowered his shirt over his cum-splattered stomach then fastened up his trousers and belt, trapping the cooling semen against his skin. Carefully he stood up and walked to the exit, feeling it oozing down his stomach. He smiled, loving the feeling, the scent of his own cum, especially if he bumped into anyone outside. He’d deliberately hold them in conversation, just to see if they’d notice the smell. Few did, none of them figured it out though.

He left the ‘Bunker’ and entered the kitchen, taking the sandwich that the Chef always left out for him, munching on it as he walked back to his apartment above the clinic.

Kyle

The phone rang on Kyle’s desk. He frowned, not needing the interruption. For the last three days he’d been working twelve hours trying to get the recommendation done for his company to purchase EDIT, an electronic records management application and he was nearly there.

“Hello. Kyle Watson, Business Strategy Team. Can I help you?” He replied, the standard answer whenever an internal call came through to his desk.

“It’s Reception. There’s a Mister Crowler here to see you. Says he’s a lawyer.”

Kyle frowned. “I don’t have him in my diary.”

“He says it’s urgent that he speak with you,” The security guy at reception stated.

“Em, okay. I’ll be right down.”

“Cheers.” The other end of the line went dead.

Kyle headed for the elevator, the frown still creasing his features, wondering why a lawyer would be coming to see him. There was nothing legal he was involved in at work, he knew he was a pretty well behaved guy, and he knew he was up to date on his loan payments and all that.

He entered the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor, leaning against the wall as he tried to think of a single reason why a lawyer would be wanting to see him, but by the time the doors opened and he reached the reception desk, he still hadn’t come up with one.

“He’s in there,” The portly security guy grunted, poking a thumb in the direction of one of the vacant meeting rooms HR used for interviews.

Kyle looked over, seeing an elderly man, around the age of retirement, but there was something very sharp about him. Maybe the slicked back white hair, or the black suit, shirt and tie, but from his initial glance, Kyle wouldn’t be surprised to find out that this guy was Lucifers lawyer. He had that supremely confident look about him.

His istanbul Escort frown still on his face, Kyle opened the door. “Hi. I’m Kyle Watson. Can I help you with something?”

The lawyer immediately stood offering a surprisingly warm handshake. “I’m Mister Crowler, Kyle. Thankyou for agreeing to meet with me at such short notice.”

“Sure,” Kyle said, closing the door and taking a seat opposite the old man. “Do you mind if you tell me straight away what it is you want? We’ve got three of the Company Directors in the building today, so it’s kinda busy upstairs.”

The old man nodded.

“Very well. I’m sure you’re wondering why a lawyer has turned up out of the blue to see you. It involves an inheritance from a relative and you’re one of the listed beneficiaries.”

Kyle’s eyes widened at the lawyers words. “Oh.”

“Not what you were expecting?” Mister Crowler asked, an eyebrow raised at the expression on Kyle’s face.

“I didn’t know what to expect, but this wasn’t even on the list,” Kyle admitted. “Who are we talking about here? I don’t know of any relatives of mine that have died.” He frowned as he thought about it. “Not in the last few years anyway. Are you sure I’m the right Kyle Watson?”

“I’m absolutely sure.” The lawyers confident expression left Kyle in little doubt, confusing him further.

“So.. Em… Who died?” Kyle nodded.

“For that you’ll have to bear with me for a few moments while I show you a few files,” Mister Crowler said, flicking open his briefcase and removing several Manilla files, placing them on the desk in front of him. The old mans fingers tapped for a few seconds on the files before he cleared his throat.

“Kyle, you are twenty three years old, born on the 19th of March, correct?” The lawyer’s tone was precise, factual, and Kyle nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What I am about to tell you may come as a bit of a shock, so please bear with me.” He flicked open the first file, containing several photos. The first was a black and white image of three babies, wrapped in blankets and woolen hats and they looked like they were only a day old.

“Babies,” Kyle said aloud, knowing he was stating the obvious, but if he had fifty guesses at what was inside the manilla folders, a baby picture wouldn’t have even crossed his mind.

“Correct,” Mister Crowler replied. “This is a photograph taken of a set of triplets several hours after they were born on the 19th of March, twenty three and a half years ago, Kyle.”

Kyle’s eyes shot up to the old man’s, but the lawyers gaze was fixed on the photo. His finger tapped the baby on Kyle’s left.

“This baby was named Katarina.” His finger moved to tap on the infant on the right. “This one was named Kara, and the one in the middle was named Kyle.”

“Yeah, I think you’ve got the wrong Kyle, buddy,” He said immediately. “I don’t have any sisters, or twins, or whatever.” He kept quiet the realisation that the central baby did look like him in his own baby photos, but Kyle wasn’t convinced. Babies all looked the same to him anyway.

“Please, bear with me,” The lawyer said firmly, moving the photograph to one side. Underneath the photo was a stack of papers, and Kyle could see Adoption Certificate written on the top one. His fingers deftly rotated the document so Kyle could read it.

His eyes met the lawyers a few seconds later. “I don’t know anything about this documentation. I couldn’t tell you if it’s real or false. I know I’m not adopted though.”

“Is this your birth certificate, Kyle?” Mister Crowler said, sliding another document in front of Kyle.

He checked and nodded, frowning as he wondered why the hell this lawyer could have a copy of what looked like his own birth certificate. “Could be, but I don’t know how you have it.”

The lawyer flicked another document next to the birth certificate. “This is a name change by deed poll that accompanies the adoption certificate,” He continued in the factual, clinical and emotionless tone, flicking another two documents in front of Kyle. “And this is your original birth certificate.”

Kyle forced himself to look carefully at what was in front of him. He knew that his own birth certificate was correct and couldn’t see anything on it that was strange or unusual, so he began to read the name change document, and compared it with the adoption certificate. He could feel a knot in his stomach as he failed to find any inconsistencies, and with reluctance, he looked at the original birth certificate.

He read the name of the baby on the certificate and his eyes immediately shot up to the lawyers face, seeing an expression of sadness there, perhaps even a hint of empathy at the young man sitting opposite him whose very foundation was being pulled out from under him.

“The… The surname?” Kyle stammered.

Mister Crowler didn’t say anything. He simply slid another photograph across the table, this time of the three infants, cradled in their fathers arms. It was a younger version of a familiar face, known the world over. For the past few days it had never been off the news

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two chubby girls

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two chubby girls

My name is Sean and I need to tell someone about the most bizarre thing that as ever happened to me. It all started when we got new neighbours in the form of two plump girls that I thought at first to be sisters but later discovered that they were lovers.
Tracey and Stacey were about a size 18 both well over weight and with massive boobs Tracey had long red curly hair and an arse that just begged for a spanking wear as Stacey had long blond hair, they wear both very pretty but just on the chubby size, I found myself wanking off as I watched them in the garden sunning there large fleshy body’s.
Then one sunny day as the two girls were sat drinking lager in nothing but there bikinis and I was hiding behind the fence with my cock in hand jerking like my life depended on it when my worst nightmare became reality Tracey looked directly at me and I was caught red handed. I legged it to my back door with my cock still out to the sound of the two chubby girls laughing at me. Sat on the sofa I was in tears at the embarrassment that I faced from my wanking actions when the back door opened and Tracey & Stacey walked right in, they wear still only in there bikinis and obviously on the drunk side. Tracey sat next to me and told me that they wanted to watch me finish what I was doing in the garden, when I told them I couldn’t Stacey said it’s that or we tell everyone about you little jerk session, what could I do I got my cock out and tried to jerk it to life but the little fellow was unresponsive.
This did not go down well with my chubby neighbours and Stacey ordered me to strip naked so they could help me get a hard on, when my clothing was on the floor I was placed between the two girls on the sofa and Tracey took hold of my limp cock and started to stroke me till I was proper hard and my 8” cock stuck out from my body like a battering ram, but if I thought I was going to fuck these chubby bitches I was wrong, Stacey pulled me between her legs and told me to get licking so pulling her bikini bottoms to one side I started to lick the fattest hairy pussy I had ever had the pleasure of seeing. As I was getting my tong as deep in to her fat cunt as I could Tracey had decided it was time she got to Gaziosmanpaşa Escort play and I felt her push a chubby finger into my tight (never penetrated by anything before) arse. My cock was proper hard by this time and I was dying to get it in to some big fat pussy. As Tracey fingered my bum hole she reached round and grabbed my cock and as she moved her fat hand up and down the length of my cock she finger fucked my arse at the same speed. Then Stacey started to orgasm and as she climaxed her plump pussy exploded spraying her cunt juice all over my face, there was gallons of the stuff and it was dripping of my face, this was another first for me I had never seen a girl squirt before.
I was dragged from between Stacey’s legs and Tracey licked my face before dragging me into the garden and tied face up to the picnic table my hard cock standing up like a little flag pole.
Stacey opened another can of lager as Tracey resumed her work jerking my cock; my legs wear spread out and as Tracey wanked my cock Stacey spat cold lager over my balls.
I was ordered to tell them when I was going to cum and after a couple of minutes of being jerked and ass fingered I told the chubby bitches I was going to cum, then as Tracey let go of my cock she slapped my balls really hard causing me great pain and stopping me from shooting my load, my cock flopped and I was in agony, Stacey took the tip of my cock in to her mouth and sucked on it till I started to harden again, I was told that I still had to tell them when I was getting close to shooting my sperm and that if I just started to cum without telling them this would be the last kinky session we would have and that they would torture my cock & balls as a punishment.
When I was proper hard again Stacey rested her bid fat tits over my face as Tracey climbed on the table and lowered her sloppy fat shaven pussy over my hard cock and lowered her self-till I was fully impaled in her. For a chubby cow her cunt was still quit tight and I really enjoyed the suction created as she lifted her ass till just the tip of my erection was in her then dropped back on to me till I was in her to the hilt.
When I again got close to shooting off, I warned them Escort Bayan hoping to god they would not whack me in the balls again and wondering what was worse the slap in the balls or the pressure that Stacey put on me as she squeezed my knackers stopping me again from Cumming. Tracey lifted of my cock and then shuffled her big chubby body back till her sloppy pussy was over my face then she lowered herself onto my face I had no choice but to lick her preying she would climax before I suffocated, Stacey was once again sucking on my cock only this time she was taking me deep into her throat and I could feel the cum once again start to build up pressure and that lovely feeling of release coming upon me, then as Tracey finally started to orgasm I lost control and started to cum filling Stacey’s mouth with jet after jet of thick creamy cum, Tracey was doing the same to me and as her pussy juice filled my mouth as her arse and cunt suffocated me to near death causing my own cum to be the most intent of my life.
When Tracey finally lifted her fat arse of me and I was able to breathe again I was lay there still tied to the picnic table and covered in cunt juice from both there gushing orgasms Tracey and Stacey informed me that I had forgotten to warn them of my cock exploding and that I would have to be punished for disobeying them.
The girls left me tied up for about half an hour as they cleaned themselves up and when they eventually returned I was sprouting a new hard on wondering what they would do to me and not expecting them to be too nasty, they both had cold lager’s with them and Stacey was carrying a bag with her when they returned, they wear now dressed in just panties and matching bra’s, Stacey in black and Tracey in white that made her look stunning with her red hair hanging over her shoulders. Tracey started to jerk me off slowly then she asked me if I wanted her to stop or continue using a glove with some lube, I opted for the glove and lube and when she put a rubber washing up glove on and then removed a tube of deep heat muscle relaxant cream from the bag I begged her to stop but she just giggled and squeezed out a big blob of cream into her gloved hand and once again grabbed my cock istanbul Escort and continued to jerk me of, the cream burned like hell but I still found pleasure from the action her gloved hand was giving me, Tracey then offered me another choice, natural or artificial, I chose natural and Tracey reached into the bag and got out a pair of garden gloves and then walked to the bottom of the garden and returned with a bunch of nettles and placed a hand full of stinging leaves between my leg right under my balls.
I realised that I would be given a choice to every one of my tortures and asked what the other option would have been and Trace told me it was a handful of fiberglass loft insulation, I still had a hard on and Stacey asked me if I wanted her finger or something else inserting into my arsehole, the smile on her face made me go for something else and reaching into her bag of tricks she removed a small 7” cock shaped dildo and after spitting on it she inserted it into my arse hole after I got used to the size it was not that bad a feeling and was much better than a finger covered in the deep heat cream probing my bum hole. I was once again approaching the point of no return and warned them of my predicament, to my surprise Stacey just carried on and let me enjoy my orgasm without further torture, and as I was shooting the last of my cum over my own face and chest Tracey said ok babe what’s it to be, front or back, I opted for the front not knowing what I had coming to me, Trace straddled my face for the second time and as I looked up at her shaven fat cunt she started to piss all over my face it was hot a smelled really bad but I have to admit to finding it very erotic and just to prove to myself and the girls how much I liked it when I was told to open my mouth I did so gladly, and just to make my torture better when Tracey finished and dismounted my face, Stacey took her place and once again I found myself getting covered in piss from a big plump pussy.
They left me on the picnic table for about an hour soaking in the urine and itching from the nettle stings under my balls before I was untied and told that from now on if I wanted to masturbate as I looked at them I was to do it openly and may be they might let me join them in their bedroom sometime, something that I have done on a few occasions so far, and let me tell you there is nothing better than getting your cock sucked by a fat lass as another chubby girl licks your ass hole…x

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THE HOSTESS

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Amateur

“Julia, I must say that the table looks absolutely divine,” gushed her good friend Minerva! “I second that motion,” Abra rejoined enthusiastically, “I don’t know how you do it, but every time I eat here it’s like dining at The Rainbow Room!!!” Julia took her seat at the head of the table as her three dinner companions took theirs, that being Abra, Minerva, and last but certainly not least, Rhonda, who of course every one called Roni!!! As was their usual custom, they were all dressed up for their once a month dinner party! “So, Julia,” Abra asked, “what’s on the menu for this evening?!?” “Are you referring to the dinner menu or dessert,” Julia replied with a laugh!?! “Either one or both,” Abra retorted!!! “Well then,” Julia responded, “I guess I’ll answer both of your questions, for dinner it’s poached salmon with almonds, and for dessert, it’s, well let me show you, Mia darling, you may start bringing in the dinner!!!” All of the eyes at the table turned to see who was coming through the kitchen door! “Oh, my,” Roni gasped, “s-she’s beautiful, where on earth did you find her!?!” The object of Roni’s question pushed a serving cart to the edge of the table and began placing tossed salads in front of each of the diners!!! Mia continued around the table until everyone was served and then asked, “Do you need anything else, Miss Julia?!?” “Not until the main course, dear,” Julia replied, “you can go into the kitchen and get everything set up!!!” “Very good, ma’am,” the young girl replied, “just call if you need me!” After she had left the room, the three ladies all turned to Julia and began asking all sorts of questions all at once, until finally Julia raised her hand and said, “Hold it, one at a time, we have all evening, take it easy!!!” Minerva was the first to speak and asked, “Good lord, how old is she, she looks so young!?!” “Eighteen,” she just graduated from high school,” Julia shot back! “Where did you ever find her,” asked Roni, “girls like her don’t grow on trees!?!” “Actually, I met her at the bank, she was applying for a job and I offered her a better one,” Julia replied!!! Then finally, Abra asked the evenings most pertinent question, “Is she as tasty as she looks!?!” All Julia said was, “Better!!!

After Mia had cleared away the all of the dishes, the four women retired to the library, which was windowless, and of course sound proof!!! After taking their seats in large comfortable chairs, Mia Eyüp Escort came into the room and waited next to Julia for further instructions!!! “Would any of you care to as Mia any questions,” Julia asked the rest of the group?!?” “I would,” Abra said quickly, “Mia, do you always wear just a bra and panties around the house?!?” “No, ma’am,” she replied softly, “most of the time Miss Julia keeps me naked!” “Are you a virgin,” Roni asked, “I mean with a man?!?” “No, I’ve had sex with boys before, but I like women better,” the young girl replied softly! “What are you measurements,” Minerva questioned next!?! “Um, about 34b-22-34,” Mia answered quickly! “Do you always trim you pussy,” asked Roni?!? “Not usually, but tonight I am wearing panties and I didn’t want my hair to show,” she said a matter of factly! Now very quietly Abra asked in a husky voice, “If I lifted my dress, would you orally satisfy me?!?” “Of course,” the young woman said calmly, “I’d love to take you in my mouth!!!” Abra looked over to Julia who simply nodded her head in the affirmative, indicating that the young lady’s mouth was hers to use as she pleased!!!

Abra stood up, and slowly lifted her dress to reveal a bare pussy framed by a while lace garter belt and stockings!!! “Come to me , dear,” Abra said softly, “and take care of mama’s pussy for her!!!” The bra and panty clad woman dropped to her knees and let her tongue snake out and caress the plump bulging lips of the now seated Abra’s hot vagina!!! “Ohhhhhhhhhh,” Abra moaned, “she has a wonderful mouth, so soft, but very insistent!!!” As was usually the case at these gatherings, when one of the woman was being satisfied, that being either orally or through intercourse, the other three always fingered and played with their own pussies!!! None of them had worn panties, because it was almost a certainty that any one or all of them would at one time or another, be lifting their skirt and showing their genitals to each other as well as whom ever the evenings visitor might be!!! Even before Abra had achieved her first orgasm, Minerva had taken off all of her clothing, so that her huge chest was ready when it was her turn to have the little minx for herself!!! There was nothing she liked better than to have a young woman nurse at her breast while one of the other three of them sucked on her hairy pussy!!! The low moan that had once filled the room had now turned into an out right Escort Bayan groan as the tension in Abra’s pussy churned furiously towards orgasm under the relentless licking by the cute eighteen year old cuntlapper!!!

With her legs splayed wide apart, Abra slumped back in her chair with a glazed look in her eyes, the direct result of the numbing climax that came courtesy of the talented mouth of Julia’s new house girl!!! “Me next,” Minerva fairly shouted, while holding out her arms towards the sexy young satisfier!!! Pulling Mia onto her lap, Minerva guided a nipple form he massive chest into the young girl’s mouth and while caressing her cheek said softly to her, “That’s a good baby, suck mama’s nipple and relax, mmmmmmm, that’s a good little girl, baby sucks mama’s nipple so nicely!” And she did too, snuggling up to the huge breast while sucking and nipping at Minerva’s hard nipple!!! Julia and Roni watched Minerva nurse the young beauty for a while until Julia asked, “Roni, do you feel a little left out?!?” “A little,” she replied, “but what can we do about it!?!” “Oh, I don’t know,” Julia said while standing up and lifting her dress, “Maybe you’d like me to fuck you with this,” as she exposed a large strapon dildo hanging menacingly between her legs!!! “Oh my, god,” Roni moaned, “y-you want to fuck me with that monster!?!” “It’s not a question of want, dear,” Julia replied evenly, “it’s only a question of when!!!” “Oh, dear,” Roni groaned softly, “I-I’m afraid I’m going to cum before you shove it inside of me!!!” Now taking complete charge of the situation, Julia ordered her friend over to the sofa where she had her bend over its back and spread her legs!!! “Tell me, dear,” Julia asked while lifting Roni’s skirt up and throwing it onto her back, exposing her pale white ass and hairy cunt, “what do you want Julia to do for you?!?” “Oh, please,” Roni panted, “fuck me, fuck me hard, please do it now!!!” “I don’t know,” Julia said doubtfully, “you have been a bad girl haven’t you!!!” “Oh, no,” Roni almost wailed, “I-I’ve been a very good girl, please fuck me, I’ve been good!!!” “Well,” Julia said, “maybe just a little, should I just stick it in a little!?!” “Sweet jesus in heaven,” Roni fairly shrieked, “yes, anything, just stick the fucking thing into me!!!”

“My, my,” Julia replied, “we’re getting a little bossy aren’t we, I think that you should apologize for sassing back to me, what do istanbul Escort you think?!?” “Y-you’re right,” Roni moaned, “I-I’m sorry, now please, may I please have it!?!” “Oh, I guess so,” Julia answered, “but from now on you’d better talk nicely to me, understand!?!” Through gritted teeth, Roni stammered, “I-I promise to be nice, now, please, fuck me!!!” Julia moved a little closer to Roni’s big fat ass, taking her time as she ran the huge head up and down the length of Roni’s drooling slit!!! “T-that’s it,” she panted, “now give it to me hard and fast!!!” “Like this,” Julia asked, while with on hard lunge she buried the rubber destroyer all the way to the hilt!?! “Oweeeeeeeeeeee,” Roni screamed as her cunt was split wide apart by the gigantic invader, “it hurts so fucking gooooooooooood, oh, my, you fucking are tearing my pussy to shreds!!!” From over in the corner, Abra was taking in all of the action, and calmly masturbating at the same time, but now, seeing her friend getting her cunt assaulted by the brutally long and thick dildo, she was now furiously fingering her wet cunt towards another hard climax!!! Over in the big easy chair, Minerva had slipped one finger into her own pussy, as well as one from her other hand into Mia’s tight little snatch, while drool ran out of the corner of her mouth as she watched Julia fucking Roni’s fat cunt!!! Soon the room was filled with the moans and sighs of women as their pussies and clits were satisfied by fingers and dildos!!! By now Julia was slamming the thick rubber cudgel into Roni’s cunt, which had long since stopped trying to fight the massive intruder, as it found it was impossible to put up in resistance against such a incredible foe!!!

With orgasms quickly approaching, a panting Julia asked Roni, “And what are we thankful for, slut, tell me, right now!!!” “Ohhhhhhhh, goddddddd,” she moaned, “t-that we’re female, it feels so fucking good to just be taken hard and fucked, owwweeeeeeeeeeeeeee, I’m cumming!!!” That did it for everyone in the room, hearing Roni losing it was like a trigger in the clits of the rest of them, and almost simultaneously, each and every one of them felt their cunts giving it up at the same instant!!!”

“These dinner parties are gonna be the death of me,” Minerva sighed as Mia continued sucking her nipple even through her own orgasm!!! “Oh, man,” Roni moaned softly, “I-I’m not sure I can walk, you fucked the living shit out of me!!!” Over in the corner Abra was cupping her boobs and asked with a chuckle, “Hey Julia, what’s for dessert!?!” “You just had it babe,” Julia replied, “you just had it!!!”

THE END

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WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON

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Babes

Marion anxiously waited for the doorbell to ring, as she checked her watch for the third time in the last ten minutes. “Where was she,” Marion thought to herself, “I wish for once she’d be on time!!!” Ten seconds later the apartment air was split by the loud resonance of the bell and Marion quickly buzzed her friend in. She opened the door listened for the footsteps coming up the carpeted stairs, but oddly, she swore there was more than just Evelyn’s steps she was hearing! A second or two later she was proven right, as her Evelyn and a young lady of perhaps twenty or so turned up the last flight to Marion’s apartment. Marion looked at the young visitor and asked Marion, “Who’s your friend, or is it a secret!?!” Before she answered, Evie gave Marion a kiss on the cheek and replied, “I found her in an Internet chat room, and for two hundred dollars she’ll do us both!!!” Both Evie and Anna, the young girls name, entered the apartment and sat down on the sofa while Marion went to the kitchen for some refreshments. After eve?ryone had their punch and cookies Marion asked Anna, “Do you know why you’re hear, dear?” Anna took a sip of her drink and answered softly, “To service you and Miss Evelyn, ma’am!” Marion by now had had a chance to give the young blonde a going over, and her pussy had begun to dampen at the prospect of having such a young girl nursing at her breasts and sucking her hairy pussy!!! Marion and Evie were both single lesbians in their early sixties who had met several years earlier and now got together once a week for some recreational Küçükköy Escort sex. Once in a great while one of them would find someone else to bring to the party, and today Evie had scored but big!!! In this game of eat the pussy, younger was always better as they had the firm delectable bodies seniors like Marion and Evie could only dream about!!!

Marion continued with her questioning of Anna with, “Are you bi or les?” “Bi,” Anna quickly replied, “but I prefer females more!” Marion stood up, walked over to Anna, lifted up her skirt, and asked, “Could you please suck me, dear?!?” As usual, Marion had forsaken her panties, and now her hairy muff bulged obscenely inches from Anna’s young face! Anna merely had to lean forward, and her mouth took to Marion’s cunt like a suction cup!!! Marion groaned as the talented little cuntlapper did her erect clit, and she moaned to Evie, “God, Ev, she’s sucking me just the way I like it, mostly my clit, but she does my crack too,” while Evie looked on with glassy eyes as the little blonde cunt sucked her les friend to ecstasy!!! Marion’s pussy was reaching a crescendo, and she rolled her eyes towards Evie and ordered, “Take off your things and let me see your big tits and cunt!!!” Evie didn’t need another invitation, and as Marion was a little on the butch side, she immediately obeyed her command as she usually did! While Marion had a small compact build, Evie was full and voluptuous, with a nice fat butt, large heavy hanging tits, and a soft round tummy that Mari?on just Escort Bayan loved to lay her head on while sucking the big nipples of her fem friend! The incessant sucking on her clit, coupled with the sight of Evie’s huge tits threw Marion over the edge, and her pussy was wrenched by a climax that seemed to twist her cunt into a knot over an over again!!! When she was totally sated, Marion fell back in her chair panting like a dog, while trying to regain her breath!

Evie played idly with her pussy while she waited to see what Marion wanted to do next while Anna sat quietly watching the two older woman, while also waiting for further instructions. Finally Marion got up out of her chair, walked over to the desk, and removed a large black strap on dildo and harness. Evie moaned out loud a the mere sight of the thick latex satisfier, the only question now was whether she would be mounted by Marion or Anna! Her answer came quick enough when Marion tossed the dildo to Anna and said, “Put it on and give her the fucking of her life!!!” When she turned to face Evie with the brutal looking appendage sticking obscenely from the little blonde’s crotch, the older woman dug her fingers deep into her own pussy and worked them around, trying to get ready for the assault she knew was coming! Anna slid between her heavy thighs until the head of her destroyer was resting against Evie’s opening, reaching down she worked the big head up and down the hairy cunt until she was sure everything was properly lubricated. When she was sure everything istanbul Escort was ready, Anna pushed her little tight ass forward, slowly impaling Evie’s cunt with the black rubber dick! Before Anna had even bottomed out, Evie wailed out loud and had a massive orgasm in her over stretched pussy!!! Anna lay her small firm breasts on Evie’s pillows and began her in and out siege on the dripping slit! Evie was in seventh heaven as her cunt was exploding with climaxes as the little blonde used her as her personal fuck toy!!! Over in her chair, Marion was using a small t?hin vibrator on her clit, cumming in unison with Evie on several of her harder cums, while offering verbal encouragement to Anna to fuck Evie even harder!!!

When both women were totally satisfied, Marion proclaimed to Anna, “Now it’s your turn baby, Evie and mama are going to make you cum!!!” Evie sat up, which allowed her big chest to hang down to her waist, and then Marion had Anna lay back into Evie’s lap so she could nurse on her big hard nipples! While Anna sucked like a little baby, Marion positioned herself between the twenty year old’s legs and began tonguing her wet little pussy!!! “My, god, Ev,” Marion gushed between licks, “she has the sweetest little cunt I’ve ever tasted, she definitely is worth every cent we’re payin’ her!!!” Evie, cradling Anna’s head to her chest, purred like a satisfied kitten while Anna did a number on her rubbery nips, and it wasn’t long before the little blonde began to shake all over as her orgasm took complete control of her sopping wet vagina, and even Marion had to groan as the little bitch unloaded her juice into her dyke mouth!!! When it was all over, three women lay in a heap with three very contented cunts!!!

THE END

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The brother, sister shower

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Anal

I’m Tom, and I’m 24. I currently live with my sister Mindy in an one bedroom apartment, so yes right away I’ll admit, we sleep together, but we wear clothes and don’t cuddle in our queen sized bed. A few months ago she broke up with her boyfriend who had been cheating on her, she moved out and really had nowhere else to go, so she came to live with me, although over the last few months she really taking a liking into me for some odd reason, I wasn’t sure what it was, but I didn’t think having a good relationship with my sister was a bad thing. Anyway as we got closer and closer, we actually started socializing with each other a bit more, going to movies and doing this and that. We got so close that one night as we were getting ready for bed, she kind of stripped down to her bra and panties as we were getting ready for bed. Oh my, she was stunning, but I was still shocked though.
“Whoa sis, why you getting naked?” I asked.
“I’m not naked, I’m just in my bra and panties, and we’re just brother and sister,” Mindy replied.
I really had no objection to that, not that I was turned on by her, I just admired her as a woman I wasn’t related to. She got in bed with me and we slept together once again, and nothing happened as always, it was normal. So we both just started getting into our undergarments before we got into bed. We did that for a few weeks and then all of the sudden one night at the 3 month anniversary of her moving in, she stripped down to nothing before she got into bed with me, and she acted as if it was completely normal.
“OK sis, what the hell are you doing?” Çapa Escort I asked.
“Nothing, just getting ready to go to sleep,” Mindy replied.
“But you are nude,” I said.
“If I really make you that uncomfortable, I’ll put my clothes back on, but I feel we’re mature and close enough for it not to be a problem,” Mindy replied.
Well, she had me there. So then we actually started sleeping together, naked. Still nothing incestuous happened, until one Saturday night a few weeks later. I was showering one night and then all of the sudden the door opens.
“Sis, is that you?” I asked.
I was answered by her opening the shower curtain as she was completely naked. I saw her not as a sister unfortunately, she was a very sexy young lady at 22.
“Aren’t you gonna invite me in big brother?” Mindy asked as she got in with me.
She came up to me and kissed me right on the lips, I seriously had no idea WTF honestly, but my body or my mind couldn’t seem to fight it though.
“We’ve been dancing around this for too long and I can’t stop thinking of you big brother, ever since we started sleeping naked together, you have been driving me crazy every single night, now, I must have you,” Mindy said just before we began making out again.
We made out for about 3 minutes letting the water hit us, I gotta say that my cock was probably harder than ever and she definitely noticed.
“So, you obviously wanna do it with me too, why else would your cock be so hard?” Mindy asked.
I just put my hands onto her boobs and we both backed into the side wall and made out some more. Sense Escort Bayan I helped myself to her boobs, she helped herself to my dick and she really knew how hard it was.
“Oh my big brother, you really wanna fuck me, I don’t think I should make you wait another minute, and don’t worry, I’m on the pill,” Mindy said.
And with that, she pushed me on the little seat at the back of the shower and she turned around. She sat on my lap, but letting my dick slide inside her pussy. She laid back and turned her head towards me to kiss me again. She bounced up and down just a little for a few minutes.
“Oh, you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this big brother, I’m so glad you are finally inside me,” Mindy said.
I put my hands back on her boobs and she seemed to love that quite a bit, I pinched her nipples just a bit, not all the moisture was from the water, some was our sweat, we were getting so hot for each other.
“Yes big brother, feel your sister up, I love it,” Mindy said.
Well, let’s just say that all of our emotions were high, really high, we both wanted this and it was finally happening, so we both got tired rather quickly, but it’s not like we’d just wanna do it once and have that be it. After a few minutes of having amazing sex with my sister, I just came inside my sister.
“Holy shit sis!” I screamed.
She came too all the over the shower. After that, she just laid there in my arms for a few more minutes as the water just continued to hit us. About 5 minutes later, she got up and I got yet another really good look at her nice B-cup boobs. Even istanbul Escort with those small boobs, she was beyond stunning and hot.
“Well, sense we are in the shower, we should at least wash up,” Mindy said.
“I guess we should, but then we gotta talk about something,” I replied.
“What? We’re just 2 consenting adults that love each other and wish to make love,” Mindy said.
Anyway, we actually washed each other, washed each others hair and even private parts as well, so that made it probably the longest shower either one of us ever had.
“Well, maybe tonight, we don’t have to just go to sleep, maybe we can have some fun too,” Mindy said.
“Maybe we can sis, but it’s a little early to go to bed on a Saturday night,” I replied.
“Well, no one said just because we got in the bed we had to go to sleep,” Mindy said.
So we both dried off and went to bed, but of course didn’t go to sleep, we laid down next to each other and just looked at each other.
“I have masturbated thinking about you so many times, about you making love to me, and just pounding the shit out of me too. I started sleeping naked with you, because I know deep down, you want it to, you have been just too embarrassed to admit, so I was out of ideas, so I just made a move for both of us,” Mindy said.
“Well, that was very well played,” I replied.
We kissed each other for about 2 minutes straight and let’s just say we didn’t need to talk, we were gonna talk anyway.
“I don’t care that’s it’s incest, I love you and I wanna be with you big brother,” Mindy said.
“Me too,” I replied.
“Then, let’s make love again, I wanna feel your big dick inside me,” Mindy said.
“Best shower ever,” I replied.
Now we shower together all the time, but it always takes us over a half hour though.

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The Expression of Light

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Amateur

Carmen dove down the miracle mile of Los Angeles, hurrying to make her appointment on time. Whilshire Blvd… the stretch of road between Westwood and Los Angeles California. A stretch of road that has seen many faces, both wealthy and poor, and young and old. The only problem with that particular stretch of road, besides the traffic that is, was the numerous stop lights. She had already called the office twice, telling them that she was on her way. Her pulse raced with fear and excitement. She was finally making a dream come true. A dream that had nagged her for a long long time. A dream of beauty… in its own way that is.

Carmen was born with the future of a large frame were other’s were born with the future of a small petite frame. In the centuries passed, it was becoming to have a little extra around the butt, tummy and hips. Many paintings by many of the great artists depict women that were large and chubby. But this century was not one that had passed. In this century only the thin succeed. The thin obtain all the men that they want and desire. The thin are awarded prizes and honors; whereas, the chubby or fat are laughed at, especially while growing up. She saw many of her girlfriends enjoy perks due to their slim figures. Several of the men she dated admired and dreamed about being with someone slender and sexy. For once, she wanted to be admired. For once, she wanted to be seen as sexy.

Her trip was almost done. Her desire was close at hand. She had done so much research, making sure she chose the right doctor. She had heard all the horror stories and seen the mistakes other doctor’s had made. She chose her doctor and had made an appointment. The thousands of dollars literally burned a hole in her purse, wanting to get out. She was ready, financially, to commit to her dream. Her dream about being thin would finally be fulfilled.

She arrived at the doctor’s office about an half hour late. The reception didn’t seem to mind and they warmly greeted her. She immediately felt welcomed. For once, she felt she belonged around thin people. All the girls who worked in the office were so slender and gorgeous. She had been told numerous times that she had a beautiful face, all she had to do was loose a few pounds. She had tried everything… all the fad diets. She exercised regularly and was in excellent shape. And yet the fat around her tummy, butt and hips never disappeared. She was frustrated!

An appointment was set for the eventful day. The days simply spun away and soon the moment was at hand. She laid down on the table as an unhappy chubby person only to wake as a bruised thinner women. Though she could barely walk, somehow she made it to the car. A friend of hers would take good care of her for the next 10 days, giving her body time to heal.

In the month’s to come, she worked out as hard as she had done before, but this time Fatih Escort she saw results. Carmen actually had stomach muscles! That’s when it happened. It was so unexpected, she was not even aware it was happening…

She was on her way down the miracle mile, once again. This time for a follow-up appointment and some more pictures. The doctor was so pleased with the results that he had turned her into one of his spoke person’s. She was thrilled and honored by the task.

She was stopped at one of the numerous lights on that particular stretch of road. She had just entered Beverly Hills, land of dreams and movie stars, when she spotted a familiar face. The face was staring right back at her. She had seen the face on so many screens before. It was a well known face, but the smile that lingered on its lips was sincere. The gesture was meant for her… and her alone. She returned his smile, eventually finding her voice. “I have seen your face before… I just can’t place it”, the statement was a lie. Carmen was well aware of the name that was associated with the face. The man smiled back at her and said, “I modeled for Playgirl several years ago!” She knew that he was pulling her leg, and yet she found herself laughing. The light changed and she was forced to pull ahead, the look on his but a sweet memory.

Again she arrived at the doctor’s office a little late. She never seemed to get it just right she chided herself! She was surprised and a little apprehensive to see that the familiar face had followed her. “Funny meeting you here! Do you have an appointment?” “No”, he replied. “I was bewitched by a beautiful happy face and had to find out what her secret was..” Carmen giggled, a little embarrassed and at lost for words. She didn’t know how to accept the compliment. She wasn’t use to getting compliments and they still embarrassed her. The blush rose high on her delicate cheeks. As she reached the doctor’s door, Carmen encouraged the man to follow. He patiently waited in the lobby as the doctor examined his favorite patient.

As they left the office, the man suggested lunch. Carmen readily agreed. Lunch quickly turned into a swim at his place. His place was not the usual two bedroom bungalow, but rather a large sprawling mansion behind thick gates. As they drove up the winding drive way her breath caught in her throat. The view behind the trees was awe inspiring. The beautiful house was nestled in paradise flowers. Several large palm trees stood as angles welcoming her into heaven. If a house could be considered heaven, then she was at the right place.

He opened the door and escorted her in. Her mouth dropped as she took in the beautiful statues and antiques. It reminded her of the MET in New York City! The rooms were large and each held more beautiful eye candy! He was telling her that the house was inherited. The Escort Bayan furnishings came partially from his success in films and the remainder from his family. His mother had a house of her own several miles away, but felt that the large ancestral home was just too much. Carmen turned her head and looked up into his deep blue eyes. One lingering thought echoed through her mind… if she was still fat, would she be here?

Adam reached out his hand taking her’s in his. He squeezed it for a moment reflecting on her innocent fresh beauty. In Hollywood or LA for that matter, it was impossible to find a girl that was fresh. All them women he had met before were plastic. They had so much work done, that the resembled robots versus women. Another thought seeped into his mind. In San Diego, a short drive from LA, was a company that made love dolls that looked like they were real women. The other women he had dated reminded him of those dolls, perfect in every way… too perfect.

Adam brought her tender hand up to his lips. His kiss lingered shedding its warmth throughout her body. He was ready for any adventure as long as she was part of it! Carmen nervously smiled as Adam spoke about women in LA. Her eyes clouded with remorse, but she held her head high. She refused to let this man know her dirty little secret… after all, she was partially plastic too!

They walked hand in hand to the large swimming pool in the back. Adman saw the worry on her face and he smiled. He would enjoy seeing her naked, but this wasn’t the right moment. Besides, there was plenty of time for that. Adam showed her the bathing suits and left her to get dressed. She chose a two piece bikini. Prior to her surgery, she had only worn a bikini once. A girl friend of hers persuaded her to wear one to a beach party. When she arrived a few of the girls started making fun of her. She left the party in tears and completely humiliated. Other’s, especially thin girls, could be so mean. But she was thin, now… and she was not mean!

Adam admired her thin form. She held well in the bikini. He noticed her muscle rippled tummy and her firm butt. Without realizing it, his hands reached out and stroked her form. She allowed his hands to roam as her hands followed similar paths around his body. Their mouths met and they deeply kissed. He squished her body close to his allowing her to feel his excitement. They both landed in the water, their bathing suits melting from their bodies. She wrapped her legs around his body, wanting to absorb his hardness deep into her tender soul. He cupped her firm little breasts in his hands and molded them with his fingers. He was ready and yet urged his body to wait. He wanted the first time to be longer… lasting and sweet. Carmen couldn’t wait to possess this man… this sexy man that was going to fulfill her wild dreams. But first she istanbul Escort had to be honest. First she had to tell him the truth…

She pulled away from him explaining that she had to tell him something first. He looked directly in her eyes, dreading the worst… she was married. Or she had AIDs. Both were equally terrible depending on the perspective! She took several deep breaths and then, at the last moment reached out to him. She couldn’t bear to be rejected… not again… and not by him! Slowly the words tumbled out. She stuttered first and the message got mixed up, but eventually it came out. He smiled with sympathy, knowing all her reasons. He too was fat when growing up. He too had difficulties loosing weight. His mother insisted that he go to a specialist and he too had Liposuction. After having the procedure, he received his first part. And after that, it was history. He became an overnight success.

He moved closer to her in the pool, reaching out to embrace her in his arms. He held her close as they shared terrible stories and experiences. Being fat was not readily accepted, especially in California – land of models and movie stars! People can be cruel when someone looks like they don’t fit in. This time their lips met, it wasn’t due to sexual desires, but mutual passion. She allowed herself to be folded into his arms. He held her tightly in his arms, molding her body to his. They floated in the water, making their bodies feel light. His body stiffened with desire, not wanting to ruin the moment, he pulled that region away. Carmen didn’t want the moment to end… she wanted his attentions, including those growing hard. She nestled her hips closer to his and moved her hands down to feel his growing passion. He took her head between his large hands and pulled her mouth over, capturing her lips in his. The kiss was long and deep. It was filled with so many years of pain and wanting. It was filled with an urgency that would not be denied.

His hands found her soft mounds and molded them into his hands. He easily slid away the flimsy material, exposing her naked body to the warmth of the water. He wanted… needed her… He could feel her inner warmth shielding his love lance. He easily slipped inside her not letting her out of his embrace. She arched her back to receive it, pushing herself closer… encouraging it in deeper! The bodies swam as one… interweaving each other under the liquid warmth. The road in mutual desire… the urgency of the moment pushing them forward…

They reached the surface exhausted and trembling. What they had just shared was of no previous comparison. He helped her out of the water and again embraced her into his arms. He wanted the moment to last for ever… never to slip away in the pretense of love. They walked slowly to the house… both knowing their final destination… knowing… this time… they both were going to take it slower, exploring the depths of each other’s bodies… and their souls… knowing that this moment… was going to be theirs for a life time!

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THE 120 DAYS OF SODOM – 02 – Part1, The First Day

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Big Tits

PART THE FIRST

THE 150 SIMPLE PASSIONS, OR THOSE BELONGING TO THE FIRST CLASS, COMPOSING THE THIRTY DAYS OF NOVEMBER PASSED IN HEARING THE NARRATION OF MADAME DUCLOS; INTERSPERSED AMONGST WHICH ARE THE SCANDALOUS DOINGS AT THE CHÂTEAU DURING THAT MONTH; ALL BEING SET DOWN IN THE FORM OF A JOURNAL.

THE FIRST DAY

The company rose the 1st of November at ten o’clock in the morning, as was specified in the statutes which Messieurs had mutually sworn faithfully to observe in every particular. The four fuckers who had not shared the friends’ couches, at their waking hour brought Zéphyr to the Duc, Adonis to Curval, Narcisse to Durcet, and Zélamir to the Bishop. All four children were very timid, even more awkward, but, encouraged by their guides, they very nicely carried out their tasks, and the Duc discharged. His three colleagues, more reserved and less prodigal with their fuck, had as much of it deposited in them as did the Duc, but distributed none of their own.
At eleven o’clock they passed into the women’s quarters where the eight young sultanas appeared naked, and in this state served chocolate, aided and directed by Marie and Louison, who presided over this seraglio. There was a great deal of handling and colling, and the eight poor girls, wretched little victims of the most blatant lubricity, blushed, hid behind their hands, sought to protect their charms, and immediately displayed everything as soon as they observed that their modesty irritated and annoyed their masters. The Duc rose up like a shot and measured his engine’s circumference against Michette’s slender little waist: their difference did not exceed three inches. Durcet, the month’s preseding officer, conducted the prescribed examinations and made the necessary searches; Hébé and Colombe were found to have lapsed, their punishment was pronounced at once and fixed for the following Saturday at orgy hour. They wept. No one was moved.
They proceeded to the boys’ apartments. The four who had not appeared that morning, namely Cupidon, Céladon, Hyacinthe and Giton, bared their behinds in accordance with orders, and the sight provided an instant’s amusement. Curval kissed them all on the mouth, and the Bishop spent a moment frigging their pricks while the Duc and Durcet were doing something else. The inspections were completed, no misconduct was discovered.
At one o’clock Messieurs betook themselves to the chapel where, as you know, the sanitary conveniences were installed. The calculation of requirements for the coming soiree having led to the refusal of a good number of requests, only Constance, Duclos, Augustine, Sophie, Zélamir, Cupidon, and Louison appeared; all the others had asked permission and had been instructed to hold back until evening. Our four friends, ranged around the same specially constructed seat, had these seven subjects take their seat one after another, and then retired when they had enough of this spectacle. They descended to the salon where, while the women dined, they gossiped and tattled until the time came for them to be served their meal. Each of the four friends placed himself between two fuckers, pursuant to the imposed rule that barred all women from their table, and the four naked wives, aided by the elders costumed as the Graeae, served them the most magnificent and the most succulent dinner it were possible to concoct. No one more delicate, more skilled than the cooks they had brought with them, and they were so well paid and so lavishly provided that everything could not fail to be a brilliant success. As the midday fare was to be less heavy than the evening meal, they were restricted to four superb courses, each composed of twelve plates. Burgundy wine arrived with the hors d’ouvres, Bordeaux was served with the entrees, champagne with the roasts, Hermitage accompanied the entrements, Tokay and madeira were served with dessert.
Spirits rose little by little; the fuckers, whom the friends had granted every liberty with their wives, treated them somewhat untenderly. Constance was even a bit knocked about, rather beaten for having dawdled over bringing a dish to Hercule who, seeing himself well advanced in the Duc’s good graces, fancied he might carry insolence to the point of drubbing and molesting his wife; the Duc thought this very amusing. Curval, in an ugly humor by the time dessert arrived, flung a plate at his wife’s face, and it might have clove her head in two had she not ducked. Spying one of his neighbors stiffen, Durcet, though they were still at table, promptly unbuttoned his breeches and presented his ass. The neighbor drove his weapon home; the operation once concluded, they fell to drinking again as if nothing had happened. The Duc soon imitated his old friend’s little infamy and wagered that, enormous as Invictus’ prick might be, he could calmly down three bottles of wine while lying embuggered upon it. What effortlessness, what ease, what detachment in libertinage! He won what he had staked, and as they were not drunk on an empty stomach, as those three bottles fell upon at least fifteen others, the Duc’s head began gently to swim. The first object upon which his eye alighted was his wife, weeping over the abuse she had sustained from Hercule, and this sight so inspired the Duc he lost not an instant doing to her things too excessive for us to describe as yet. The reader will notice how hampered we are in these beginnings, and how stumbling are our efforts to give a coherent account of these matters; we trust he will forgive us for leaving the curtain drawn over a considerable number of little details. We promise it will be raised later on.
Our champions finally made their way into the salon, where new pleasures and further delights were awaiting them. Coffee and liqueurs were distributed by a charming quartet made up of Adonis and Hyacinthe, two appealing little boys, and two pretty maids, Zelmire and Fanny. Thérèse, one of the duennas, supervised them, for it was decreed that wherever two or more children were gathered, a duenna was to be on hand. Our four libertines, half-drunk but none the less resolved to abide their laws, contended themselves with kisses, fingerings, but their libertine intelligence knew how to season these mild activities with all the refinements of debauch and lubricity. It was thought for a moment that the Bishop was going to have to surrender his fuck in exchange for the extraordinary things he was wringing from Hyacinthe, while Zelmire frigged him. His nerves were already aquiver, an impending crisis was beginning to take possession of his entire being, but he checked himself, the tempting objects ready to triumph over his senses were sent spinning and, knowing there was yet a full day’s work ahead of him, the Bishop saved his best for the evening. Six different kinds of liqueur were drunk, three kinds of coffee, and the hour sounding at last, the two couples withdrew to dress.
Our friends took a fifteen minute nap, then moved into the throne room, the place where the auditors were to listen to the narrations. The friends took their places upon their couches, the Duc having his beloved Hercule at his feet, near him, naked, Adelaide, Durcet’s wife and the Président’s daughter, and for quatrain opposite him, and linked to his niche by a chain of flowers, as has been explained, Zéphyr, Giton, Augustine, and Sophie costumed as shepherds, supervised by Louison as an old peasant woman playing the role of their mother.
At Curval’s feet was Invictus, upon his couch lay Constance, the Duc’s wife and Durcet’s daughter, and for quatrain four little Spaniards, each sex dressed in its costume and as elegantly as possible: they were Adonis, Céladon, Fanny, and Zelmire; Fanchon clad as a duenna, watched over them.
The Bishop had Antinoüs at his feet, his niece Julie on his couch, and four little almost naked savages for quatrain. The boys: Cupidon and Narcisse; the girls: Hébé and Rosette; an old Amazon, interpreted by Thérèse, was in charge of them.
Durcet had Bum-Cleaver for fucker, near him reclined Aline, daughter of the Bishop, and in front of him were four little sultanas, the boys being dressed as girls, and this refinement to the last degree emphasized the enchanting visages of Zélamir, Hyacinthe, Colombe, and Michette. An old Arab slave, portrayed by Marie, presided over this quatrain.
The three storytellers, magnificently dressed as upper-class Parisian courtesans, were seated below the throne upon a couch, and Madame Duclos, the month’s narrator, in very scanty and very elegant attire, well rouged and heavily bejeweled, having taken her place on the stage, thus began the story of what had occurred in her life, into which account she was, with all pertinent details, to insert the first one hundred and fifty passions designated by the title of simple passions:

‘Tis no slight undertaking, Messieurs, to attempt to express oneself before a circle such as yours. Accustomed to all of the most subtle and most delicate that letters produce, how, one may wonder, will you be able to bear the ill-shaped periods and uncouth images of a humble creature like myself who has received no other education than the one supplied her by libertinage. But your indulgence reassures me; you ask for naught but the natural and true, and I dare say what of these I shall provide you will merit your attention.
My mother was twenty-five when she brought me into the world, and I was her second child; the first was also a daughter, by six years my elder. My mother’s birth was not distinguished. She had been early bereft of both her father and mother, and as her parents had dwelled near the Récollet monastery in Paris, when she found herself an orphan, abandoned and without any resources, she obtained permission from these good fathers to come and ask for alms in their church. But as she had some youth and health, she soon attracted their notice, and gradually mounted from the church below to the rooms above, whence she soon descended with child. It was as a consequence of one such adventure my sister saw the light, and it is more likely that my own birth might rightly be ascribed to no other cause.
However, content with my mother’s docility and seeing how she did make the community to prosper and flourish, the good fathers rewarded her works by granting her what might be earned from the rental of seats in their church; my mother no sooner obtained this post than, with her superior’s leave, she married one of the house’s water carriers who straightway, without the least repugnance, adopted my sister and me.
Born into the Church, I dwelled so to speak more in the House of God than in our own; I helped my mother arrange the chairs, I seconded the sacristans in their various operations, I would have said Mass had that been necessary, although I had not yet attained my fifth year.
One day, returning from my holy occupations, my sister asked me whether I had yet encountered Father Laurent….
I said I had not.
“Well, Başakşehir Escort look out,” said she, “he’s on the watch for you, I know he is, he wants to show you what he showed me. Don’t run away, look him straight in the eye without being afraid, he won’t touch you, but he’ll show you something very funny, and if you let him do it he’ll pay you a lot. There are more than fifteen of us around here whom he’s shown it to. That’s what he likes best, and he’s given a present to us all.”
You may well imagine, Messieurs, that nothing more was needed, not only to keep me from fleeing Father Laurent, but to induce me to seek him out; at that age the voice of modesty is a whisper at best, and its silence until the time one has left the tutelage of Nature is certain proof, is it not, that this factitious sentiment is far less the product of that original mother’s training than it is the fruit of education? I flew instantly to the church, and as I was crossing a little court located between the entrance of the churchyard and the monastery, I bumped squarely into Father Laurent. He was a monk about forty, with a very handsome face. He stopped me.
“Whither are you going, Francon?” he asked.
“To arrange the chairs, Father.”
“Never fear, never fear, your mother will attend to them,” said he. “Come, come along with me,” and he drew me toward a sequestered chamber hard by the place. “I am going to show you something you have never seen.”
I follow him, we enter, he shuts the door and, having posted me directly opposite him:
“Well, Francon,” says he, pulling a monstrous prick from his drawers, an instrument which nearly toppled me with fright; “tell me,” he continues, frigging himself, “have you ever seen anything to equal it?… that’s what they call a prick, my little one, yes, a prick… it’s used for fucking, and what you’re going to see, what’s going to flow out of it in a moment or two, is the seed wherefrom you were created. I’ve shown it to your sister, I’ve shown it to all the little girls of your age, lend a hand, help it along, help get it out, do as your sister does, she’s got it out of me twenty times or more…. I show them my prick, and then what do you suppose I do? I squirt the fuck in their face…. That’s my passion, my child, I have no other… and you’re about to behold it.”
And at the same time I felt myself completely drenched in a white spray, it soaked me from head to foot, some drops of it had leapt even into my eyes, for my little head just came to the height of his fly. However, Laurent was gesticulating. “Ah! the pretty fuck, the dear fuck I am losing,” he cried, “why, look at you! You’re covered with it.” And gradually regaining control of himself, he calmly put his tool away and decamped, slipping twenty sous into my hand and suggesting that I bring him any little companions I might happen to have.
As you may readily fancy, I could not have been more eager to run and tell everything to my sister; she wiped me dry, taking the greatest care to overlook none of the spots, and she who had enabled me to earn my little fortune did not fail to demand half of my wages. Instructed by this example, I did not fail, in the hope of a similar division of the spoils, to round up as many little girls for Father Laurent as I could find. But having brought him one with whom he was already familiar, he turned her away, the while giving me three sous by way of encouragement.
“I never see the same one twice, my child,” he told me, “bring me some I don’t know, never any of those who say they’ve already had dealings with me.”
I managed more successfully; in the space of three months, I introduced Father Laurent to more than twenty new girls, with whom, for the sake of his pleasure, he employed the identical proceedings he had with me. Together with the stipulation that they be strangers to him, there was another relative for age, and it appeared to be of infinite importance: he had no use for anything younger than four or older than seven. And my little fortune could not have been faring better when my sister, noticing that I was encroaching upon her domain, threatened to divulge everything to my mother if I did not put a stop to this splendid commerce; I had to give up Father Laurent.
However, my functions continued to keep me in the neighborhood of the monastery; the same day I reached the age of seven I encountered a new lover whose preferred caprice, although very childish, was nevertheless somewhat more serious. This one was named Father Louis, he was older than Laurent, and had some unidentifiable quality in his bearing that was a great deal more libertine. He sidled up to me at the door of the church as I was entering it, and made me promise to come up to his room. At first I advanced a few objections, but once he had assured me that three years ago my sister had come for a visit and that he received little girls of my age every day, I went with him. Scarcely were we in his cell when he closed and bolted the door and, having poured some elixir into a goblet, made me swallow it and then two more copious measures too. This preparatory step taken, the reverend, more affectionate than his confrere, fell to kissing me and, chattering all the while, he untied my apron and, raising my skirt to my bodice, he laid hands, despite my faint strugglings, upon all the anterior parts he had just brought to light; and after having thoroughly fingered and considered them, he inquired of me whether I did not desire to piss. Singularly driven to this need by the strong dose he had a few moments earlier had me drink, I assured him the urge to do so was as powerful as ever it could be, but that I did not want to satisfy it in front of him.
“Oh, my goodness, do! Why yes, my little rascal,” quoth the bawdy fellow, “by God yes, you’ll piss in my presence and, what’s worse, you’ll piss upon me. Here it is,” he went on, plucking his prick from his breeches, “here’s the tool you’re going to moisten, just piss on it a little.”
And thereupon he lifted me up and set me on two chairs, one foot on one chair, the other foot on the other, he moved the chairs apart as far as was possible, then bade me squat. Holding me in this posture, he placed a container beneath me, established himself on a little stool about as high as the pot; his engine was in his hand, directly under my cunt. One of his hands supporting my haunches, he frigged himself with the other, and my mouth being at a level with his, he kissed it.
“Off you go, my little one, piss,” cried he, “flood my prick with that enchanting liquid whose hot outpouring exerts such a sway over my senses. Piss, my heart, care not but to piss and try to inundate my fuck.”
Louis became animated, excited himself, it was easy to see that this unusual operation was the one which all his senses most cherished; the sweetest, gentlest ecstasy crowned that very moment when the liquids wherewith he had swollen my stomach, gushed most abundantly out of me, and we simultaneously filled the same pot, he with fuck, I with urine. The exercise concluded, Louis delivered roughly the same speech to me I had heard from Laurent, he wished to make a procuress of his little whore, and this time, caring precious little for my sister’s threats, I boldly guided every child I knew to dear Louis. He had every one of them do the same thing, and as he experienced no compunction upon seeing any one of them a second or third time, and as he always gave me separate payment, which had nothing to do with the additional fee I extracted from my little comrades, before six months had passed I found myself with a tidy little sum which was entirely my own; I had only to conceal knowledge of it from my sister.

“Duclos,” the Président interrupted at this point, “we have, I believe, advised you that your narrations must be decorated with the most numerous and searching details; the precise way and extent to which we may judge how the passion you describe relates to human manners and man’s character is determined by your willingness to disguise no circumstance; and, what is more, the least circumstance is apt to have an immense influence upon the procuring of that kind of sensory irritation we expect from your stories.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Duclos replied, “I have been advised to omit no detail and to enter into the most minute particulars whenever they serve to shed light upon the human personality, or upon the species of passion; have I neglected something in connection with this one?”
“You have,” said the Président; “I have not the faintest notion of your second monk’s prick, nor any idea of its discharge. In addition, did he frig your cunt, pray tell, and did he have you dandle his device? You see what I mean by neglected details.”
“Your pardon, my Lord,” said Duclos, “I shall repair these present mistakes and avoid them in the future. Father Louis possessed a very ordinary member, greater in its length than it was around and in general of a most common shape and turn; indeed, I do recall that he stiffened rather poorly and that it was not until the crisis arrived he took on a little firmness. No, he did not frig my cunt, he was content to enlarge it with his fingers as much as possible, so as to give free issue to the urine. He brought his prick very close two or three times, and his discharge was rapid, intense, and brief; nothing came from his mouth but the words: ‘Ah, fuck! piss, my child, piss the pretty fountain, piss, d’ye hear, piss away, don’t you see me come?’ And, while saying that, he intermittently sprinkled kisses on my mouth. They were not excessively libertine.”
“That’s it, Duclos,” said Durcet, “the Président was right; I could not visualize a thing on the basis of your first telling, but now I have your man well in view.”
“One moment, Duclos,” said the Bishop, upon seeing that she was about to proceed. “I have on my own account a need rather more pressing than to piss, it’s had me in its grip for an age and I have the feeling it’s got to go.”
So saying he drew Narcisse to his alcove. Fire leapt from the prelate’s eyes, his prick stood up against his belly, foam flecked his lips, it was confined fuck that wished absolutely to escape and which could not be liberated save by violent means. He dragged his niece and the little boy into his closet. Everything came to a pause; a discharge was regarded as something far too portentous not to suspend everything the moment someone was about to produce one; all was to concur to make it delicious. But upon this occasion Nature’s will did not correspond with the Bishop’s wishes, and several minutes after having retired to the closet, he emerged from it, furious, in the same state of erection and, addressing himself to Durcet, presiding officer for November:
“Put that odd little fellow down for some punishment on Saturday,” he said, flinging the child ten feet away from him, “and make it severe, if you please.”
It was apparent that Escort Bayan the boy had not been able to satisfy Monseigneur, and Julie whispered in her father’s ear what had happened.
“Well, by God, then take another,” cried the Duc, “choose something from one of our quatrains if nothing in yours suits you.”
“Ah, my satisfaction now would be far beyond the damned little that would have been sufficient a moment ago,” said the prelate. “You know to what we are led by a thwarted desire; I’d prefer to restrain myself, but no undue leniency with that poor little fool ,” he continued, “that’s what I recommend…”
“But be at ease, my dear Bishop,” said Durcet, “I promise you he’ll get a good scolding, ’tis a fine idea to provide the others with an example. I’m sorry to see you in such a state; try something else; have yourself fucked.”
“Monseigneur,” spoke up Martaine, “I feel myself greatly disposed to satisfy you, were Your Excellency to wish it…”
“No, no, Christ, no!” the Bishop cried, “don’t you know that there are a thousand occasions when one does not want a woman’s asshole? I’ll wait…let Duclos continue, I’ll get rid of it tonight, I’ll have to find the one I want. Proceed, Duclos.”
And the friends having laughed right heartily at the Bishop’s libertine frankness- “there are a thousand occasions when one does not want a woman’s asshole”- the storyteller resumed in these terms:

It was not long after I had attained the age of seven that one day, following my custom of bringing one of my little comrades to Louis, I found another monk with him in his cell. As that had never happened before, I was surprised and wanted to leave, but Louis having reassured us, my little friend and I went boldly in.
“Well there, Geoffrey,” Louis said to his companion, pushing me toward him, “did I not tell you that she was nice?”
“Why yes indeed, she is,” said Geoffrey, taking me upon his knees and giving me a kiss. “How old are you, my little one?”
“Seven, Father.”
“Just fifty years younger than I,” said the good father, kissing me anew.
And during this little dialogue, the sirup was being prepared and, as it was customary, each of us swallowed three big glasses of it, but, as it was not customary for me to drink when I brought Louis a toy, because he only expected a sprinkling from the girl I brought, because I did not usually stay for the ceremony but used to leave at once, for all these reasons I was astonished by their actions, and in a tone of the most naive innocence I inquired:
“And why do you have me drink, good Father? do you want me to piss?”
“To be sure, we do, my child,” quoth Geoffrey, who still had me squeezed between his thighs and whose hands were already straying over my front, “yes, you’re to piss, and the adventure is to take place with me; it will be, perhaps, a little different from the other one you experienced here. Come into my cell, let’s leave Father Louis with your little friend, and let’s get to business ourselves; we’ll return when all our needs are satisfied.”
We left; before going, Louis told me in a whisper to be very obliging with his friend, and said I’d not regret it if I were. Geoffrey’s cell was not far from Louis’, and we reached it without being seen. No sooner inside than Geoffrey, having barricaded the door, told me to get rid of my skirts. I obeyed, he himself pulled my shift above my navel and, having seated me on the edge of his bed, he spread my thighs as wide as it were possible, at the same time thrusting me back in such a way my belly came into full view and my weight rested entirely upon the base of my spine. He besought me to keep in that position and to begin to piss immediately he gave one of my thighs a little slap with his hand. Then, scrutinizing me for a moment in this attitude, with one hand he separated the lips of my cunt, with the other he unbuttoned his breeches and with quick and energetic movements began to shake a dark, stunted little member which seemed not much inclined to respond to what was required of it. To give it some encouragement, our man set about doing his duty and proceeded to his chosen custom, the one which procured him the greatest possible titillation – down he went on his knees, I say, between my legs, spent another instant peering into the little orifice I presented to his eye, several times applied his mouth to it, between his teeth muttering certain luxurious phrases I cannot remember because at the time I did not understand them, and continued to agitate that sullen little member, which, though fearfully bullied, did not budge. Finally, he sealed his lips to those of my cunt, I received the signal, and instantly draining what my bladder contained into the gentleman’s mouth, I flooded him with a stream of urine he swallowed as fast as I launched it into his gullet. Whereupon his member unfurled, and its proudly lifted head throbbed against one of my thighs: I felt it bravely spray his debilitated manhood’s sterile issue. Everything had been so well managed he swallowed the final drops at the same moment his prick, confused by his victory, wept bloody tears over it. Trembling in every limbs, Geoffrey got to his feet, and I observed that he no longer had for his idol, once the incense had been extinguished, the same religious fervor he had while delirium, inflaming his homage, still sustained its glory: he rather abruptly gave me twelve sous, opened the door without asking me, as had the others, to bring him girls (he was evidently furnished by someone else) and, pointing the way to his friend’s cell, told me to go there, said that he was in a hurry, that he had his offices to perform, that he could not conduct me himself, and then shut his door without affording me the chance to answer him.

“Oh yes indeed!” said the Duc, “unnumbered are they who absolutely cannot bear the instant when the illusion is shattered. It seems as if one’s pride suffers when one lets a woman see one in such a state of feebleness, and disgust would appear to be the result of the discomfiture one experiences at such moments.”
“No,” said Curval, whom Adonis, kneeling, was frigging, and whose hands were wandering over Zelmire, “no, my friend, pride has nothing to do with it, but the object which is in the profoundest sense devoid of all value save the one our lust endows it with, that object, I say, shows itself for what in truth it is once our lubricity has subsided. The more violent has been the irritation the more this object is stripped of its attraction when this irritation ceases to sustain it, just as we are more or less fatigued after greater or lesser exertion, and this aversion we thereupon sense is nothing but the sentiment of a glutted soul whereunto happiness is displeasing because happiness has just wearied it.”
“But from this aversion, all the same,” spoke up Durcet, “is often born a plan for revenge, whose fatal consequences have often been observed.”
“Yes, but that’s another matter,” Curval replied, “and as the aftermath of these recitals will perhaps afford us examples of what you’re saying, let’s not anticipate through dissertations what will be naturally produced of itself.”
“Président, be frank,” said Durcet: “on the verge of running amuck yourself, I believe that at the present moment you prefer to prepare yourself to feel how one enjoys than to discuss how one becomes disgusted.”
“Why, not at all, not a bit of it,” said Curval, “I am as cool as ice… To be sure, yes,” he continued, kissing Adonis’ lips, “this child is charming… but he’s not to be fucked; I know of nothing worse than your damnable regulations… one must reduce oneself to things… to things… Go on, Duclos, go on, continue, for I have the feeling I might perpetrate something foolish, and I want my illusion to remain intact at least until I go to bed.”
The Président, perceiving his engine beginning to rebel, sent the two children back to their posts and, lying down beside Constance, who, pretty as she was, doubtless failed to stimulate him as much, he a second time besought Duclos to resume her story; she did at once, as follows:

I rejoined my little comrade. Louis had been serviced; not very well pleased, we both left the monastery, I almost resolved not to return again. Geoffrey’s tone had wounded my little pride, and without probing further to determine the origins of my displeasure, I liked neither its apparent cause nor its consequences. However, it had been written in my destiny that I was to have yet a few more adventures in that pious retreat, and the example of my sister, who had, so she told me, done business with fourteen of its inhabitants, was to convince me that I was still far from the end of my tour. Three months after this last episode, I became aware of overtures being made to me by another one of these reverend fathers, this one a man of about sixty. He invented every kind of ruse to lure me to his room; one of them succeeded, so well in fact that one fine Sunday morning I found myself there, without knowing why or how it had happened. The old rascal, known as Father Henri, shut and locked the door as soon as I had crossed the threshold, and embraced me with exceeding warmth.
“Ah, little imp!” cried he, transported with joy, “I’ve got you now, you’ll not escape me this time, ha!”
The weather was extremely cold at the time, my little nose was running as children’s usually do in the winter; I drew out a handkerchief.
“What’s this? What’s this? Be careful there,” warned Henri, “I’m the one who’ll attend to that operation, my sweet.”
And having stretched me out upon his bed with my head a little to one side, he sat down next to me and raised my head upon his lap. He peered avidly at me, his eyes seemed ready to devour the secretion oozing from my nose. “Oh, the pretty little snotface,” said he, beginning to pant, “how I’m going to suck her.” Therewith bending down over me, and taking my nose in his mouth, not only did he devour all the mucus between my nose and mouth, but he even lewdly darted the tip of his tongue into each of my nostrils, one after the other, and with such cleverness he provoked two or three sneezes which redoubled the flow he desired and was consuming so hungrily. But ask me for no details bearing upon this fellow, Messieurs, nothing appeared, and whether because he did nothing, or because he did it all in his drawers, there was nothing to be seen, and amidst the multitude of his kisses and lecherous lickings there was nothing outstanding which might have denoted an ecstasy, and consequently it is my opinion that he did not discharge. All my clothes were in place, even his hands stayed still, and I give you my word that this old libertine’s fantasy might be performed upon the world’s most respectable and least initiated girl without her being able to suppose there was anything lewd in it at all.
But the same could not be said of the one that chance presented to my consideration istanbul Escort the same day I turned nine years old. Father Etienne, that was the libertine’s name, had several times asked my sister to bring me to him, and she had got me to promise to go alone, for she was unwilling to accompany me, fearing lest my mother, who already scented something in the wind, might find out; well, I was planning to pay him a visit when, one day, I ran directly into him in a corner of the church, near the sacristy. His manner was so gracious, he argued so persuasively that he had no need to drag me away by main force. Father Etienne was about forty, a healthy, robust, strapping fellow. We were no sooner closeted together than he asked whether I knew how to frig a prick.
“Alas!” said I, blushing to the ears, “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Well then I’ll explain, my chit,” said he, bestowing heartfelt kisses upon my mouth and eyes, “my unique pleasure in this world is to educate little girls, and the lessons I give are so excellent they prove unforgettable. Begin by removing your skirts, for if I am to teach you how you must proceed in order to give me pleasure, ’tis only fair that at the same time I teach you what to do in order to receive it, and that lesson cannot be a success if anything hinders us. Here we go. We shall begin with you. What you behold down here,” said he, placing his hand on my mound, “is called a cunt, and this is what you must do in order to awaken very felicitous sensations in it. With one finger – one will do – lightly rub this little protuberance you feel here. It, by the way, is called the clitoris.”
I followed instructions.
“There, you see, that way, my little one, while one hand is busy there, let one finger of your other hand gradually work its way into this delicious crack….”
He adjusted my hands.
“That’s the way, yes… Well! Don’t you feel anything?” he asked, keeping me to my task.
“No, Father, I truly don’t,” I answered most naively.
“Ah, that’s because you are still too young, but two years from now you’ll see the pleasures it gives.”
“Wait,” I interrupted, “I think something’s happening.”
And with all imaginable vigor I rubbed the places he had pointed out…. Yes, sure enough, a few faint titillations convinced me that what I’d begun was worth continuing, and the extensive use I have made ever since of this relief-providing exercise has more than once persuaded me of my master’s competence.
“And now ’tis my turn,” said Etienne, “for your pleasures arouse my desires, and I simply must share them, my angel. Here we are; take this,” he said, inviting me to grip a tool so monstrous my two little hands were scarce able to close around it, “take this, my child, ’tis called a prick, and this movement here,” he went on, guiding my wrists in rapid jerks, “this action is called frigging. Thus, by means of this action you frig my prick. Go to it, my child, put all your strength to it. The more rapid and persistent your movements, the more you will hasten a moment which, believe me, I cherish. But bear one essential thing in mind,” he added, all the while directing my flying hands, “be careful at all times to keep the tip uncovered. Never allow this skin, we call it the prepuce, to cover it over; were this prepuce to happen to cover this part, which we call the glans, all my pleasure would vanish. That’s it; we’re shortly going to see something, my little one,” my teacher continued, “watch me do on you what you did on me.”
And pressing himself against my chest as he spoke and as I kept in motion, he placed his hands so adroitly, he wriggled his fingers with such high art that pleasure rose at last to grip me, and it is without a shadow of a doubt to him I owe my initiation. And then, my head reeling, I abandoned my task, and the reverend, not yet ready to complete it, consented to forget his pleasure for a moment in order to devote himself exclusively to cultivating mine; and when he had caused me to taste it all, he had me resume the work my ecstasy had obliged me to interrupt, and very expressly enjoined me to keep my mind strictly on what I was about and to care for naught but him. I did so with all my soul. It was only just: I surely owed him my thanks. I went so merrily to work, and I observed all his instructions so faithfully that the monster, vanquished by such rapid vibrations, finally spewed forth all its rage and covered me with its venom. Thereupon Etienne seemed to go out of his mind, borne aloft in the most voluptuous delirium; ardently he kissed my mouth, he fondled and frigged my cunt, and the wildness in his speech still more emphatically declared his disorder. Gross expressions, mingling with others of the most endearing sort, characterized this transport, which lasted quite a while, and whence at last the gallant Etienne, so unlike his piss-swallowing colleague, emerged to tell me that I was charming, that he greatly hoped I would come back to see him, and that he would treat me every time as he was going to now: pressing a silver coin into my hand, he conducted me back to the place he had brought me from and left me wonderstruck, thrilled and enchanted with this latest good fortune. Feeling much better about the monastery, I decided to return to it often in the future, persuaded that the more I advanced in age, the more agreeable adventures I would meet with there. But destiny called me elsewhere; more important events awaited me in a new world, and upon returning to my house I learned news which was soon to sober the elation produced in me by the happy outcome of my latest experience.

Here a bell was heard struck in the salon; it announced supper. Whereupon Duclos, generally applauded for the auspicious little beginnings she had made, descended from the stage, and, after having made a few adjustments to repair the disorder all four of them seemed to be in, the friends turned their thoughts to new pleasures and hastened to find out what Comus held in store for them.
This meal was to be served by the eight little girls, naked. Having been wise enough to leave the auditorium a few minutes early, they stood ready the moment the masters entered these fresh surroundings. The table companions were to be twenty in number: the libertine quartet, the eight fuckers, the eight little boys. But, still furious with Narcisse, the Bishop wished to veto his presence at the banquet, and as it was perfectly natural that they make allowances for one another’s whims and observe a mutual tolerance, no one raised his voice to contest the sentence, and the poor little simpleton was confined alone in a dark closet to await that stage in the orgies when perhaps Monseigneur might be inclined to make friends with him again. The wives and the storytellers, dining apart, had concluded their meal in great haste in order to be ready for the orgies, the elders directed the movements of the eight little girls, and dinner was begun.
This meal, much heavier than the one which had been eaten earlier in the day, was served with far greater opulence and splendor. I began with a shellfish soup and hors d’oeuvres composed of twenty dishes; twenty entrees came on next, and soon gave way to another twenty lighter entrees made up entirely of breasts of chicken, of assorted game prepared in every possible way. This was offset by a serving of roasts; everything of the rarest imaginable was brought on. Next arrived some cold pastry, soon afterward twenty-six entremets of every description and form. The table was cleared, and what had just been removed was replaced by a whole array of cold and hot sugared pastries. Dessert finally appeared: a prodigious number and variety of fruits, though the season was winter, then ices, chocolate, and the liqueurs which were taken at table. As for the wines, they varied with each service: Burgundy accompanied the first; two kinds of Italian wine came with the second and third; Rhine wine with the fourth; with the fifth, Rhône wines; sparkling champagne with the sixth; two kinds of Greek wine with the other two courses. Spirits were prodigiously roused, for, as distinct from lunch, one was not granted permission during dinner to take the waitresses to task, or with that same severity; these creatures, being the very quintessence of what the company had to offer, had to be treated rather more sparingly but, on the other hand, the friends indulged in a furious round of impurities with them.
Half-drunk, the Duc said he would not touch another drop, from now it was Zelmire’s urine or nothing, and he drained two large glasses of it which he obtained by having the child climb upon the table and squat over his plate. “Why, there’s nothing to drinking weak young piss,” said Curval and, calling Fanchon to him: “Come hither, venerable bitch, I’d slake my thirst at the very source.” And thrusting his head between the old crone’s legs, he greedily sucked up the impure floods of poisonous urine she darted into his stomach. And now their words grew heated, they argued various philosophical problems and considered several questions relating to manners; I leave it to the reader to imagine the purity of those discourses and the loftiness of their moralizing. The Duc undertook an encomium of libertinage, and proved that it was natural, and that the more numerous were its extravagances, the better they served the creator of us all. His opinion was generally acclaimed, enthusiastically applauded, and they rose to go and put into practice the doctrines which had just been established. Everything was ready in the orgy salon: the women were there, already naked, lying upon piles of pillows on the floor, strewn promiscuously amongst the young catamites who had hastened away from table a little after dessert. Our friends reeled in; two elders undressed them, and they fell upon the flock like wolves assailing a sheepfold. The Bishop, whose passions had been cruelly irritated by the obstacles they had encountered of late, laid hands on Antinoüs’ sublime ass while Hercule skewered him, and vanquished by this latest sensation and by the important and doubtless so much desired service Antinoüs was rendering him, he finally spat out streams of semen so hard driven and so pungent he swooned in ecstasy. Bacchus’ wiles had spellbound senses glutted from excess, numbed from luxury; our hero passed from his faint to a sleep so profound he had to be carried to his bed. The Duc was having a marvelous time. Curval, recollecting what Martaine had offered the Bishop, stuffed her while he got his own ass stoppered. A thousand other horrors, a thousand other infamies accompanied and succeeded those, and our three indomitable champions – for the Bishop no longer was of this world – our valorous athletes, I say, escorted by the four night-toiling fuckers who had not been at the revels but who now came to fetch them, retired with the same wives who had shared their couches during the story time. Luckless victims of their brutality, upon whom it is only too likely they showered more outrages than caresses and who, it is equally probable, inspired in them more disgust than pleasure. . . .
Such were the events that transpired on the first day.

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The naughty list chapter 2

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Anal Sex

I obeyed while he gathered my personal items strewn at my feet. Setting my purse on the table, he helped me stand again. But my legs wobbled, threatening to give out on me. My eyes misted over when he pulled me toward him. His arms tightened around me, and I gasped for breath once more. A single tear escaped when I blinked, the coldness of its trek down my cheek making my lower lip tremble.

“It’s okay to cry, Holly,” his deep voice whispered reassuringly in my ear.

And with those words, I let go. Grasping onto him, I sobbed against his shoulder. Oblivious to everything else around me except his warm embrace and his whispered words of comfort in my ear. It wasn’t until I felt the cold chill of the winter wind against my cheeks that I grasped he’d walked us out of the coffee shop.

He led me toward a beat-up green sedan and helped me into the passenger side. Buckled my seatbelt. Closed my door, cutting off the wind.

I sniffled at the loss of his arms around me. I ran the back of my hand across both eyes, watching Chris walk around the front of the car and slide into the driver’s side. Then we were moving.

“Wait. Where are we going?” I managed, my voice croaky.

“The hospital.”

Yes. Of course. How silly of me.

We were both silent on the ride across town. I was breathing normally by the time he pulled into the lot at St. Margaret’s. But I was unable to get out of the car when he came around to my side and opened the door.

Without a word, Chris unbuckled me and took my arm, helping me stand and walk toward the ER bay. Inside, the lights were so bright, I cringed. He led us up to the front desk and pulled something out of his pocket. I recognized it as the napkin from the coffee shop.

When the nurse behind the counter turned to us, Chris said, “We’re looking for Mr. McGregor. I believe he’s in the ICU? He came in after a car accident?”

The woman glanced between the both of us. “Are you family?”

“Daughter.” I started to say more, but a soft sob escaped, and Chris’s arm around my back tightened.

“Her mom is already here,” he offered.

The nurse nodded. “Elevators are down to the left. Fifth floor. Just follow the signs.”

Then we were moving again. Once the elevator doors closed behind us, Chris turned and pressed my face against his chest. His other arm wrapped around me, his chin resting against my head.

“No matter what happens, I’m right here, Holly.”

“I-I just met you. You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to, okay?”

I nodded. I didn’t have the energy to argue logic with him at the moment. I resolved to just be grateful that he was with me.

As soon as the doors opened again, I stepped out into an alternate reality. I walked beside him, but I wasn’t the one in control of my body. Everything I saw or heard seemed distorted, as though from a distance. After we entered the ICU wing, I gripped Chris’s hand tighter and let him guide me while we followed a nurse down the hall.

We stopped in the doorway of a room, and I shrank back at the sight of my dad in the hospital bed. He was covered in scrapes and already-forming bruises on his face, and he seemed much paler than normal against the white sheets and pillows. Wires and tubes ran from his arms, under his hospital gown, and his mouth and nose to various machines arranged around him. My mom sat in a chair on one side, her arms folded on the side railing of the bed.

“Mrs. McGregor?” the nurse said softly.

When my mom turned her head, she looked like she had aged ten years since I’d seen her two weeks prior. Her pallor matched my dad’s, and her eyes were bloodshot as they met mine. She looked so…fragile.

“Holly?” She rubbed her hand at her forehead and slowly stood, using the railing for support.

“Mom!” I approached her, and we kind of fell into each other, our hug firm but our bodies shaking. “How is he?”

She released me and sat down again, this time using the arms of the chair to aid her. “It’s too soon to tell if there will be any long-term effects. He’s stable, but he’s still in critical condition. He hasn’t woken up, yet, either. The doctor was just in. He said your father’s seatbelt saved his life. The other man wasn’t wearing his and didn’t make it. Another car hit him after he hit your father.”

A strangled cry made its way up my throat. Someone had lost a family member today. I tried not to think that I could lose my dad as well, especially with Christmas so close. The holiday would never be the same for us again if he was gone. Fresh tears clouded my vision, and I resisted the urge to wipe at them. “What can I do, Mom?”

“Just having you here is enough.” Her voice was a little croaky, as though she’d been crying recently, too. She sighed and gave me a sad smile. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh! Um…”

“Chris, ma’am.” Chris stepped forward and offered his hand, which my mom accepted.

Her smile seemed to brighten a little. “Ma’am. Don’t I feel old now? It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m sorry about Fulya Escort your husband.”

“Thank you, Chris.” My mom held my gaze. I feared she would start her usual 20-questions about how we had met and such, but she just turned back to my dad and resumed her stoic position on the side rail, her folded arms cushioning her chin now.

I let out a shaky breath while Chris led me to a second chair on the opposite side of the bed. I was suddenly exhausted. I didn’t object when he rolled the doctor’s stool over to sit down, too, and put his arm around me. Or when he told me to close my eyes and get some rest…that he would wake me if my dad’s status changed. I mumbled some form of thanks, to which he just said, “Shh.”

###

Knowing there wasn’t much else we could do but wait, I had Chris run me back to get my car from the coffee shop after I woke from a short rest. I tried to thank him, but I got choked up. He pulled me into his embrace, and then we got in our respective cars and went our separate ways.

I made stops at my parents’ house and my apartment to get a few things. After I filled Jolie in on what was happening, she clasped my hands and whispered what sounded like a heartfelt “sorry” before she disappeared back into her room. I could hear Dirk calling out, asking what was taking her so long. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my overnight bag. Some things would never change.

I swung by work. My boss said to take as much time as I needed but to keep him updated after the holiday when the gym reopened. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss him or cry. I chose to hightail it out of there before I did either.

Back at the hospital, I found Chris sitting with my mother. I blinked away my surprise, especially at the empty fast-food wrappers crumpled on the rolling table/tray that had been pushed against the window. My mother was in her chair but leaning forward across the bed, her arms folded beneath her head as she rested against my dad’s leg. She appeared to be sleeping.

The scent of grease and French fries masked the medicinal smell of the room. It also made my stomach growl. My eyes honed in on a white, paper bag sitting on my chair, the top rolled closed in an apparent attempt to keep some residual heat enclosed. I gave Chris a quick glance, to which he just smiled and gestured with his paper cup to eat.

I mouthed, “Thank you.”

For two days, my mom and I stayed with my dad. Chris remained by my side—in a real chair he’d somehow convinced the nurse to relinquish as we’d been told they were precious items with only two to a room—when he wasn’t getting us food or coffee or something to read. I grew accustomed to using his shoulder and chest as a pillow. It didn’t hurt that he smelled really nice, or that he lightly caressed my arm or back, helping me drift off.

Every time I started to question his presence…his desire to help out a stranger—which I still considered him to be—he’d gently shush me and reiterate that he just wanted to be there for me. I gave up on the second day and took comfort in knowing he cared, though I wondered how long it would last. He seemed too good to be true, for as little as I knew of him.

In the afternoon, my dad finally opened his eyes and responded to various stimuli that the doctor said was encouraging. Although the breathing tube was removed, it was difficult for him to speak since his throat was so dry from being intubated. He was extremely weak, and the doctor insisted on keeping him in the ICU.

The morning of the third day, Chris offered to take me home to get a shower and sleep in my own bed. My mom had gone home for a few hours last night but was back before the sun rose. I was wearing the same clothes as when I’d met Chris in the coffee shop, so I was sure I was a little ripe. Still, I protested.

“No, I need to be here with—”

“You need to take care of yourself, too,” Chris insisted, brushing my hair away from my forehead.

I watched my dad’s sleeping form for a moment. Listened to the soft beeping of the machines.

“He’s right, Holly,” my mom said when I didn’t move. “I’ll call you if anything changes.”

Chris took my hand before I could say anything else and led me out the door.

The walk back to the elevator and the ride down to the main floor seemed long. Neither Chris nor I talked, and he held my hand until we got to my car. There, he stopped on the driver’s side and held out his hand.

“I can drive,” I said defensively, pulling my keys out of my pocket.

He just wiggled his fingers at me.

I held my ground this time. “Why are you doing all this? Not that I’m ungrateful. I just don’t understand.”

“Holly… Sometimes, it’s okay to let someone do something nice for you. Especially, on Christmas Eve. It’s the season of giving.”

I clenched my eyes shut for a moment. All of the days had blurred together this past week. Christmas Eve? It couldn’t be… But no…he was right. Again. My face was flushed despite the crisp wind blowing around us. “You just shouldn’t Escort Bayan feel obligated—”

“It’s adorable how your cheeks have pinked up, but it’s kind of cold out here. You’ve barely slept in the past few days. So will you please just give me your keys?”

“Fine. You win.”

Chris chuckled. “It’s not a game. It’s called chivalry.”

I snorted and slid into the passenger side when he unlocked the doors. It was strange sitting on the wrong side of my own car, but I was kind of glad I didn’t have to maneuver the snow-covered streets. I buckled up and watched him start the engine, turn on the defrost, and then walk around the car, scraping the thin film of frost off the windows.

Once we were on the road, I adjusted the heat settings and gave directions on how to get to my apartment complex. Traffic was heavy, being the holiday, and I settled into my seat for the long haul. What was normally a ten-minute trip took thirty. I was just drifting off by the time Chris pulled into the parking lot and found my spot in the carport.

“Just a little bit further,” his voice said in my ear, his arm guiding me up the three steps of the front stoop and then through the main door.

We stood in the hallway for a moment before I realized he needed to know which one was my apartment. I pointed down the hall. “Number three.”

I thought I heard him mumble something about how he was glad I lived on the ground floor, and then we were walking again. At my door, he unlocked it and let me enter first. Light flooded the space.

I was shrugging off my coat to put it on the back of a dining room chair when I noticed something was off. I blinked and looked around. Everything seemed to be in its place. I turned back to see Chris watching me with one eyebrow raised.

“What is it?”

“I don’t kn—” I started to shake my head, but then I laughed. It was the silence. No squealing or feet pounding on the floor while being chased around. No doors slamming. And no loud grunts and cries as the result of sex. “My roommate. She must not be here.”

“Gone skiing with Dirk. See you after Christmas.”

“Huh?” I scrunched up my nose.

Chris held up a slip of paper. “It was on the table. I’m guessing Dirk is not your roommate?”

“No, Jolie is. It’s eerily quiet around here.” I tilted my head to the side. “Huh, I think I kind of like it.”

“All the better to help you rest, I say. Now, shower first?”

I started to nod but yawned.

He frowned. “Do you think you can manage to stay upright long enough?”

I managed a complete nod this time then led the way to the back of the apartment to the door with a red-and-green striped, wooden ‘H’ hanging on it. Across the hall, Jolie’s door had a similar ‘J’ but in green with gold polka dots. I stopped and turned in the direction of her room, still amazed that there was absolute silence.

“But I want to sleep,” I pouted, looking back at Chris.

“You’ll feel better after you get cleaned up.” He opened my bedroom door and ushered me inside. Then he walked right back out, closing the door behind him.

I stared into the semi-darkness, feeling a bit like a child who had been sent to her room, although she had done nothing wrong. Yawning, I stripped down and pulled on my robe. Everything was still silent when I opened my door and turned left and walked the few paces into the sole bathroom between mine and Jolie’s bedrooms.

As soon as I stepped under the hot streams of water, I groaned and silently cursed Chris for being right again. It felt wonderful to scrub away the sweat and wash the oiliness out of my hair. I made quick work of toweling off and combing out my hair before weaving it in one, long plait. I didn’t think I could keep my eyes open long enough to dry it.

Back in my room, I tossed my robe and crawled beneath the piles of blankets I kept layered on my bed. The softness was a cocoon against my naked body. I started to think of my parents, and then there was nothing.

###

“Mmm,” I moaned softly at the lightest touch on my forehead and rolled onto my back.

“Did you sleep well?”

My eyes shot open to stare up into a familiar, masculine face, my breath and voice trapped in my throat. His silhouette was outlined by the soft glow from my bedside lamp.

“It’s okay, Holly.” Chris brushed his fingers across my brow again, moving through the strands of my hair before repeating the gesture, his eyes searching mine.

I licked my lips and swallowed, my voice a whisper when I could speak. “What are you doing here?”

“Checking on you to make sure you’re all right.”

I started to sit up but remembered I didn’t even have my bra and panties on. I scooted away a little instead. “How long have I been sleeping?”

He glanced at his watch. “About four hours.”

“And you’ve been here the whole time?”

“Yes.”

I gulped. “As in, right here on the bed watching me?”

“No. As I said, I came to check on you. You were moaning. Did you know, you talk in your sleep?”

I istanbul Escort closed my eyes for a moment. Oh, God.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Holly. It’s quite endearing.”

When I returned my gaze to his face, there was that prize-winning smile again. I started to sit up, struggling to wrap one of the blankets around my body. “I-I need to go. My mom is waiting on me.”

“She texted me while you were sleeping.”

He had my mom’s phone number? I opened my mouth, but he held up a hand.

“I thought it better to let you get your rest. Your mom said the doctor encouraged her to go home, and you didn’t need to come back tonight. Not on Christmas Eve.”

I pulled the blankets tighter around me. “I-I don’t have a joyful spirit this year. Not with Dad…”

“I understand.”

I sniffled and prayed I wouldn’t lose it in front of him. Again. I frowned. God, he must think I was a blubbering, emotional mess.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted—”

“Yes, I know, you were concerned.”

Chris stood slowly. “Holly—”

I pressed my hand to my eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You’ve been nothing but a blessing these last few days. I think it’s just the stress of the situation. And I didn’t expect to see you sitting on my bed.”

“I’ve outstayed my welcome. I should go.”

He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I quickly pulled on my sweater and jeans, sans underwear, then followed him. He was at the front door when I caught up.

“Chris, wait!” I touched his forearm then pulled my hand away.

He stopped but didn’t turn around.

I tried again, letting my hand linger this time on his shoulder. “Stay. Please.”

His hand fell from the doorknob. Still, he kept his back to me.

I glanced at the living room window. White swirls blustered about under the dim light from the street lamps outside. “You don’t have your car. It’s snowing harder. I-I don’t like driving in this weather. I can’t take you back to the hospital for you car.”

He hesitated—still not facing me—before saying, “I can get an Uber…or a cab.”

“I-I’m sure that will be almost impossible. It’s Christmas Eve, remember? The few that are running will be backed up with the snow. It could be hours. And they’d be sure to gouge you on fees, too.” I wrung my hands, bouncing a little on the balls of my feet. Why was I so adamant that he stay?

“Are you saying I’m your prisoner?” He glanced sideways at me.

My body flinched. “Uh…”

“I’m teasing, Holly.” But the low tone and the glint in his eyes when he finally faced me told me he might not be opposed to being held captive by me. Or at least stranded together.

I gulped and then nodded. “Okay.”

“Do you have food in the house?”

His question left me blinking at him. He took a step closer to me, and I found myself retreating. Another step forward, another step back. Again and again, as though we were doing a strange, silent dance. Then suddenly, I backed into the refrigerator.

The corner of his mouth turned up when he lifted his right hand toward my head and I inhaled sharply.

My eyelids were heavy. I licked my lips. Told myself to breathe.

I huffed out a breath when his hand didn’t touch me. Instead, I felt the refrigerator shake slightly and a blast of cool air hit my face. I looked to my left to see that he’d pulled open the other half of the two doors.

“It’s not much, but that should be sufficient for twenty-four hours.”

“I-I was supposed to go to my parents’ house for dinner tomorrow.” A resurgence of tears threatened my eyes. I would probably be spending Christmas Day in the ICU. No turkey and dressing this year.

The door closed, but I was still staring at his arm that was in my direct line of sight…at his hand that was pressed flat against the door. He had a thin layer of hair on his forearm, a shade darker than what was on his head. Long, thick fingers spread out from his large palm, their ends capped with clean, trimmed nails. God, even his arm and hand were attractive.

I gulped, slowly sliding my eyes to meet his. I let out a small whimper, my knees suddenly feeling weak. The heat in his gaze was so intense. And then I was staring at his back while he walked away.

“I’m going to take a shower, if you don’t mind.”

I silently followed him back towards the bedrooms. He continued on to the bathroom and shut the door between us. I stared at the grains in the stained wood, hearing the sound of the water being turned on. Then my eyes dropped. For a moment, I held my breath, studying the handle while my brain processed the pros and cons of turning it.

###

In the end, my conscience won out. I sat on the edge of my bed, my hands in my lap. I told myself to breathe in and out slowly. When that didn’t work, I knew I needed a distraction. Anything to get my mind off the fact that Chris was standing buck naked in my shower. That he had watched me sleeping. Heard… Who knew what he’d heard me say? Jolie had always said it was ramblings. Nothing coherent to her. I had nothing to fear, right?

What could I focus on…? Facebook. Yes, that usually worked. And music. Good.

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Racing Minds

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Hairy

Woah, probably the most controversial thing I’ve done.

Fantastic.

This is a short, quick… what’s the definition, “suck and fuck”? Anyways, read the tags before you read just in case. I don’t want anyone flipping their shit. Sherlock fanfic. Holmescest. The gayest thing I’ve written yet. (In the good way, of course.) 

This monstrosity is based off of BBC’s Sherlock written by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. And that is based off the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. 

 Mycroft Holmes was commonly referred to as the British government. And while he normally refuted it with, “Oh, I simply hold a minor position in the government”,  complete with a short grin, no one believed him. He radiated power. 

His younger brother, Sherlock, however, had the potential to be a fantastic politician. He was a genius — they both were, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. So yes, the both of them could make excellent political careers … That is, if Sherlock didn’t call the entire business stupid, pointless, synonyms thereof. He chose to be a “consulting detective”, and a chemist in his spare time. To be frank, he was a pain in the arse. 

Mycroft had cared for him since he could possibly remember.

It was an afternoon in particular. Rainy outside, dreadful springtime weather. There was a hasty knock on the door.

Mycroft looked up, surprised and only slightly irritated; he had not been expecting the Indian ambassador until 3 o’clock. His PA Anthea should’ve mentioned any schedule change–

But no. It was Sherlock. Mycroft’s gaze softened as his younger brother entered his office. He was wet slightly, perhaps from the rain outside. Regardless, the elder Holmes immediately knew his brother was having another episode. He was clutching his head and looking up at him pleadingly, eyes unfocused, his breathing unsteady.

The familiar signs were all there. Every once in awhile, Sherlock’s mind would race out of control and only Mycroft could give him the release he so desperately needed.

The British government sighed, standing and moving around his desk to lean on it.  “Why do you always wait so long, Sherlock? If you would come to me sooner it wouldn’t get this bad.” His words were a drawl, that of a long-suffering man.

His brother looked at him tensely. “I thought I could go without it,” Sherlock muttered, his glance then moving away from Mycroft. He stepped closer, just a bit. Sherlock hated this fragility. He always did this, and always had to come back in the end.

 “My,” he pleaded, using his brother’s childhood nickname, “I need you. Please.”

There was a pause.  “Come here,” Mycroft sighed, opening his arms slightly and gesturing for his brother to come. “Tell me what you need, Sherlock.”

The curly-haired detective stepped closer to his brother, his arms falling into place around Mycroft’s. Into the no-doubt Italian-made fabric of his brother’s shoulder, as though he were a child again, he said brokenly, “It’s too much, my mind is like white noise, I can’t … I can’t think. I need your help.” He hesitated.

Mycroft’s arms settled around him easily, knowing what was coming, but he always needed Sherlock to voice it. “Tell me, Sherlock. What can I do for you?” he murmured.

 He fumbled a bit for words. “Let me … let it go. Take control. I’ll do whatever you want, My, anything.” Sherlock looked up to his brother, shifting on his feet restlessly, hoping that that answer would suffice. His desperation was starting to show already.

 Mycroft hummed, stroking his dark curls gently before laying a kiss on his brow. “Strip, Sherlock, and then we’ll decide what to do with you.”

Sherlock began to enthusiastically comply. “Yes, Mycroft. Thank you,” he murmured earnestly, letting go of his brother to bring Escort Kızılay his hands to his shirt, undoing the buttons a little less deftly than he normally would. 

After he’d removed the tightly-fitting purple shirt, he folded it and laid it on the ground, followed by his trousers and pants. He was half-hard already, and leaking a little. He stood stark naked, trembling slightly, his head down. Waiting.

Mycroft smiled, watching him as his own cock twitched with approval. “I wonder… You’re lucky I’m always prepared, Sherlock. I have toys in my office for this very purpose.” He reached into his desk and collected several dildos and vibrators and a cock ring. “I’ll start you with these until you’re begging for me to fuck you.”

 Sherlock blinked, swallowing. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. Though to be honest, that wasn’t the only part of him that was showing its excitement. “Yes sir,” he responded, his eyes locked onto the toys his brother was holding.

 “Kneel in front of me.” Mycroft picked out a large, ribbed dildo first and some lubricant.

Eyes locked on the toy, Sherlock moved accordingly, falling to his knees easily so he kneeled before his brother. His eyes were wide, his pupils verging on blown. He swallowed again.

The elder Holmes smirked again at how easily his brother complied in this state. He handed his brother the cock ring 
“Place this on your cock and then undo my zip.” 

Taking the ring and eagerly slid it over his cock, so it was fitted snugly at the base, Sherlock then scooted a little closer, his hands finding their way to Mycroft’s zip, resisting the urge to palm his brother’s erection. He would have loved to, oh yes — but he hadn’t been told to, not yet.

He tugged the zipper down, his bright blue eyes boring into Mycroft’s as he did. He was always careful, to start, never straying from instructions. That bit came later, when he wanted the punishments. But not quite yet.

His brother smirked slightly, tangling his fingers in his dark curls. “Now, take my prick out and use your pretty little mouth to suck it.”
 Sherlock licked his lips, reaching with his long fingers to draw his brother’s stiff length out. He took a moment to appreciate the gravity of the moment and also Mycroft’s cock, which was worthy if appreciation on its own, then took the head in his mouth, his tongue swirling under the sensitive underside.

Mycroft hummed in pleasure and let his brother have at it, who had been through this routine before. Sherlock knew what his brother liked. He quickly as much of his brother’s cock as he could into his mouth, cheeks hollowing. His gag reflex had already been worn a bit, so it wasn’t difficult. Sherlock’s air was cut off for a few seconds as he bobbed forward, but on the return he started again, using his tongue cleverly on the spots he’d mapped out as sensitive.

 He just knew he had to keep this up until Mycroft said otherwise. He could keep this up forever if his brother wanted him to. Sherlock would do anything… and they both knew it well.

Meanwhile, Mycroft let out a soft moan as he tightened his fingers in his brother’s hair before pulling the man off him. “Alright. Stand up and bend over the desk, Sherlock,” he said, his voice darker with arousal as he swiftly lubed up the dildo. Sherlock hurried to comply. 

He gave his brother one last obligatory lick before rising to his feet, bracing his hips against the wood of Mycroft’s desk. He rested his arms away from the (surely very important) papers, his own aching cock jutting against the wood awkwardly. His legs felt wobbly with anticipation. Mycroft moved behind him and rubbed his hand over his arse, kneading it before spanking lightly, not enough to hurt. He spread his cheeks apart and without out any Kızılay Escort preparation, pushed the toy inside him forcefully.

 Sherlock moaned at the touches. When the toy breached him he shuddered and gasped at the suddenness, and shifted a little to attempt to adjust. He knew better than to speak out, so he bit his lip.

 “You’re doing very well today,” Mycroft hummed in approval moving the toy inside of him slowly at first before going a bit faster. Sherlock’s words came through gritted teeth.

 “T-thank you, sir,” The toy was starting to feel more like pleasure now, sending frissons up his spine. He instinctively pushed back a little at the dildo, looking for more contact. Mycroft sighed and smacked his arse, hard.

 “Insatiable. You know better than to move, brother-mine.” He thrust the toy harder into him before pulling it out and reaching for another one that vibrated. Sherlock startled, even though the smack hadn’t been all that painful. His brain was too hazy to recognize that anyway. When the toy was removed, he nearly whimpered at the loss. He mumbled his brother’s name again.

Mycroft had gathered the toy, and teased his entrance with the vibrator on a low setting for a few moments to relax the muscle before he finally pressed it inside of him. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you Sherlock? You enjoy me using your body and playing with it.”

 Sherlock’s back arched a little into the sensation of the vibrator inside him. “Yes, Mycroft,” he replied dutifully. “I’m yours.” By now, his twenty days of celibacy, and now this, would have had him coming hard by now, but the cock ring prevented it. “Yours,” he said again, as if reminding himself. His mind started to wander again, getting lost in the pleasure.

The Holmes simply turned the vibrator up the highest setting, pushing it all the way inside him. And that got his attention right away.

Sherlock shuddered and a low groan sounded in his throat. His hips bucked and he forced back a throaty “Yesss”, instead biting harder on his lip. His hands were now clutched at the edge of his brother’s desk. “My,” he managed, still shifting. Sweat was starting to bead at his forehead. “My, I need you. Please? Please! Mycroft…” At this point, he found precisely zero good reasons to restrain that string of words from escaping his mouth. His raised an eyebrow and pulled the toy out of him, leaning over him and nipping his neck 

 “We still have one more toy to go, brother.”

One. Just one. He could manage one, right? Sherlock nodded, letting go of his now slightly bloody lip, and took a deep breath. He could attempt to deduce what Mycroft was going to use, but he … didn’t particularly feel like it. It felt nicer to let it happen. Let go. His muscles relaxed slightly, with the presence of the vibrator gone. Sherlock was still painfully — deliciously — hard.

His brother wasted no time in taking the prostate massager in hand and he immediately pushed it inside the younger man, turning it on and rocking it inside of him. “How does it feel,  Sherlock?”

 The involuntarily shudder against the sudden, all encompassing sensation should have answered. There was an unyielding pressure on his prostate, it was amazing, it was… he realized he had been speaking out loud. “It feels … It’s, oh god. I can’t,” he said quite honestly, then he lost the ability to form words. If he could get the cock ring off, if he could just touch, it would be all over. His right arm twitched in hopelessness. Sherlock moaned louder. Mycroft watched him, leaving him a squirming mess as he tortured his prostate with unrelenting pleasure. “Beg, Sherlock. Beg me to use you and fuck you into my desk.”

“Please,” he burst out suddenly, “Mycroft, please I need your cock in my arse, I need you to fuck me Kızılay Escort Bayan IneedyouPLEASE.” He writhed against the fierce pleasure, seeking some form of relief, finding none. His brother pulled the dildo out roughly and spun his brother around, seating him on the desk before he pressed into him without further preamble.

 Sherlock felt himself being flipped by deceptively strong arms, and was seated. He wrapped his long, pale legs around his brother’s hips, holding on as Mycroft pushed into him, causing him to inhale sharply. “Oh,” was all he seemed to be able to say. The eldest Holmes pulled Sherlock into a punishing kiss and began pounding into him, gripping his hips tightly as he nipped at his already bloody lips. Sherlock reciprocated the ferocity of the kiss, though letting his brother lead, allowing him full access to him (as if there were anything left to take.) He moaned with every thrust his brother made, finding himself enjoying the roughness immensely.

 “My,” he whispered, his feet slightly pushing against his brother with his thrusts to try to get him to go deeper. Mycroft growled as he felt himself getting closer to the edge after a few moments of fucking Sherlock hard and fast, his fingers moving to stimulate his nipples before yanking the cock ring off roughly.

It was gone. The tension that had been building up the entire time was released and Sherlock was not ashamed to say that barely three seconds after it was gone, with Mycroft still pounding into him and his fingers on him, Sherlock came in long white spurts that went up to his chest and stomach. He arched like a taut bow and his mouth opened in a silent groan, his muscles clenching tightly around Mycroft.

His older brother thrust into him for several long moments after Sherlock came, head moving to bite at his neck roughly before finally releasing inside of him. Sherlock shivered at the warmth that filled him. He relaxed, and probably would’ve collapsed into a boneless heap on the floor if not being held up still by Mycroft. His mind was blissfully clear (minus the post-coital haze, of course). He waited until Mycroft gave him some sort of signal before speaking.

It took a while. Mycroft remained still, sucking at the flushed skin of Sherlock’s neck, still inside the blissful heat for a moment, breathing hard as he stroked Sherlock’s curls gently. “Do you feel better now?” he asked softly, kissing his lips chastely.

 Sherlock managed a faint smile. “Y-yes. Much better. Thank you.” He leaned forward to press the side of his face into his brother’s neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex and an unmistakeably …Mycroft smell. And that was a good thing. He leaned back, his eyes clear again. “Thank you for …this, brother.”

 “Come back sooner, Sherlock. Before it gets this bad.” There was only a slight hint of warning.  Mycroft pulled out of him, the noise obscene, and handed him his rather disheveled clothes and attempted to straighten his own.

 “If I don’t have a case going,” Sherlock murmured to himself, pulling his shirt back on. He stood up from the desk, his legs a little wobbly, and wiped at his chest. Sherlock smiled briefly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“I look forward to it, brother-mine.” Mycroft leaned over and kissed him one last time before he began to clean up his desk and set the toys aside to be washed later.

 Sherlock didn’t have much else to say, and his flatmate was most likely already on his way home from St. Bart’s. It was time to go.

 “Good day, Mycroft,” he said smoothly after he’d dressed the best he could. With that, he left the office and closed the door behind him. 

This arrangement they had was … unique. Sometimes delicate. But they were Holmeses, they always dealt with it in the end. That’s just what they did. Sherlock would leave him for days, weeks… and then come back, flushed, desperate, for too-brief moments of bliss. And then the process repeated.

Though to be honest, Mycroft wouldn’t have had it differently. 

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Queen Yavara: Chapter 61

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Ass

Part Eighteen: The Last Queen of the Highlands

Chapter Sixty-One

YAVARA

It took me months to fully heal from the wounds I suffered atop the tower. Even with the full expertise of the royal mages, my stomach and liver were permanently damaged, and my abdominal wall had to be held together with a stiff corset lest I develop a hernia. It made it damnably difficult to sleep, but at least my posture was always good. Headmaster Lucian assured me that it would only be a temporary measure, for he and his best mages were working diligently to create a brand-new set of muscles and organs to replace the damaged ones. Magical healing was easiest when the damaged parts could be reconnected, difficult when the parts had to be regrown, and nearly impossible when the parts had to be made anew. I would be patient. I had learned to be very patient. Elena was busy being queen of the Highlands, and with all the chaos proceeding the events at Alkandra and the horrors that had befallen Bentius, she couldn’t make much time to visit me in my hospital bed. So, I spent most of my time lying around, reading books, and oh yeah, plotting her downfall.

“This… this is… this is some fucking bullshit.” Elena muttered, staring around the room. She seemed more shocked than angry. Four people surrounded her in the royal office: me, Headmaster Lucian, Secretary Hannah Xantian, and of course, Lady Lydia Straltaira.

“No,” I giggled, “it’s a coup.”

“Coup is too strong a term.” Lydia said kindly, “No, Sweetie, this is a… a correction. You did an excellent job placeholding for Yavara, and now that she is well, she can take her rightful place as queen.”

Elena blinked at her mother. “How in the fuck did she get to you?”

“I’ve always been a staunch supporter of the traditional—”

“How did she get to you?!”

“Your mother visited me in the hospital every day.” I grinned, “She was always bringing me sweets and flowers, and since you were so busy being queen, she needed someone to talk to. Who knew she could be so talkative? Especially after a few glasses of merlot. Oh, she just talked, and talked, and talked…”

“She knows, Sweetie.” Lydia swallowed, and smiled embarrassedly, “She uh… she knows everything.”

“Elena, Elena, Elena…” I tittered, “I thought I was the queen of depravity, but you… oh, you!”

Elena turned a deep shade of red. “Ok, I’m fucking my mom! So what?! Leveria fucked her dad—it was an open secret—and she got to keep her crown!”

“Yes, but Leveria didn’t have rebel leaders serving in her cabinet.” I said, and patted ‘Hannah’ on the shoulder.

Elena blinked. “Yavara, that’s Hannah Xantian. My mother rescued her from the noble wing after the attack on the castle.”

“Hannah Xantian died two years ago,” I chuckled, and held out Esmerelda Giana’s hands, “do those look like the paws of a noblewoman?”

“She’s the secretary of agriculture!”

“She’s a farmer, Elena.” I smiled.

Elena turned to her mother. “Mom, please tell me this isn’t… holy shit, it’s true, isn’t it?”

Lydia shrugged, looking as guilty as could be. “I might’ve told a little fib.”

“Told a little fib?!” Elena yelled, “You were harboring a fucking fugitive in my own court?!

“I was afraid you’d be mad at her!”

“SHE LAUNCHED AN ATTACK UPON THE GATES OF BENTIUS!”

“Well, she’s my friend now.” Lydia put a protective arm around Esmerelda, “She was the only one keeping me company while you all were out playing war. Besides, the rebel’s sacrifices are the only reason Bentius stands at all today.”

“They’re also the only reason there was an attack in the first place!” Elena growled, “Lucian, arrest her!”

The headmaster let out a pitiable sigh. “I am sorry, my lady.”

Elena looked back at him, aghast. “You too?!”

“I am a defender of traditionalism, my lady.” He said, and gestured to me, “Yavara Tiadoa has a right you cannot revoke. Besides that,” he released his perception spell, and Elena’s veil of white skin faded to reveal her true bronze, “I am getting very tired of keeping up appearances all day.”

Her jaw twitched. “Where is Field Marshal Krakis?”

“He left for the Rift yesterday.” I said, “I don’t know why you thought he’d stick around after you called off the engagement. Besides, ever since you defaulted on paying our soldiers, the army hasn’t mattered for much. Thanks for falling on that sword, by the way; it’ll make my reign much easier.”

“You mean your sister’s reign!”

“I don’t know where you got that notion, Elena. Leveria is decades away from vying against the Highlands on open terrain, and besides, she’s so locked-up with the going-ons of the Lowlands and Alkandra that she doesn’t have time to scheme against me.”

“She’s always scheming, you dumb twat!” Elena snarled, “I spent months going up against her in the Noble Court, and I beat her! All you did was lose a fucking war to her!”

“Well, since you have such great experience, I’ll be appointing you to be my ambassador to Alkandra.” I winked, “Just like old times, eh, Ambassador?”

Elena was fuming so much that I could practically see steam rising from her head. “Is that all you will require of me, Your Highness?”

“Promise that you’ll forgive me?” I asked with the cutest little smile I could muster on my cute little face.

Elena stood up, and returned my smile with the meanest death-glare she could muster. She marched past me without a word, and threw her crown on the floor after her.

“She never liked ruling anyway,” Lydia said, patting me reassuring me on the shoulder, “she only did it out of a sense of duty. She’ll forgive you in time.”

“I know she will,” I sighed, “but she’ll make me pay very dearly for it first.”

LEVERIA

I was standing in the newly-made war-room of Castle Alkandra, and frowning at the map of Tenvalia. Once the dwarves had found out who the new ruler of Alkandra was, they sent seven-hundred carts laden with tribute just to apologize for all the trouble they’d caused me as queen of the Highlands. I didn’t forgive them. After I was done getting all of the Lowland governors in line, I was going to marshal their navy and sack every dwarven port along the Bearded Peaks until the greedy little bastards were crying golden tears onto my feet. I’d publicly execute a few of their rulers, take a few of the young royal men and women for my harem, and begin the arduous process of turning the mountain people into my vassals. The process involved three steps: first, conquer the territory; second, establish a new ruling order; and third, impregnate enough royal sluts that my bloodlines would infect theirs for a thousand generations.

I rubbed my pregnancy bulge, and smiled to myself. I had learned much about myself after my first trip to the Lowlands, the most interesting of which was that my sperm was very, very potent, and much like an incubus, it could fertilize any womb. Once Arthur was done galivanting around with me on his arm, I got to work killing all possible male heirs to the Lowland throne. It would’ve been rather obvious if they died sequentially, so the whole Dreus family (including my poor husband) perished dreadfully at once when their luxury yacht was sunk by “dwarven mercenaries.” How conveniently tragic for me. After much public mourning and funerals, I got to work riling up the stupid populace into such a frenzy that all the governors unanimously agreed to go to war. After that, I went about impregnating all the widowed noblewomen of the Lowlands until my seed was spread to every corner of the kingdom. Nothing got rich sluts worked up quite like fashionable grief. All across the eastern seaboard of Tenvalia, my little dark-elf babies were growing little dark-elf arms and little dark-elf legs in the swollen little bellies of hundreds of women. My new magical headmaster had informed me that all of my children would be hermaphroditic like me, capable of bearing the seed of any race, and giving their seed to any race. Each one was a little dark-elf factory, and in less than two decades, production would begin to crank up.

“Any word from Ambassadors Furia or Soraya?” I asked Certiok.

“They’ve established their contacts in Balamora. Terondia and Drastin are both very anxious to trade with us.”

“As they should be.” I muttered, eyeing my internal trade routes, “I’m sucking the Lowlands dry to prop this place up. Speaking of which… Tiffany!” I called over my shoulder.

The dungeon trapdoor opened, and a symphony of orgasmic wails filled the room. Tiffany, the matriarch vampire and my blood-mother, poked her head out of the opening. “Yes?” She asked, her expression conveying a mixture of annoyance that I’d interrupted her, and hope that I’d join her.

“I’m hungry. Any virgins down there?” I asked.

She looked over her shoulder. “Uh… define ‘virgin.’”

“No p-p in v-v.”

“What about p-p in b-b?”

“The poop-hole loophole does not apply in Alkandra.”

“Well, that really narrows down your options. How fresh do you want your lunch?”

“Don’t tell me you spoiled them all already! I just brought this batch from Ardeni two days ago!”

“Fine,” she sighed, “Lucy, get up here!”

A moment later, a slender teenage human girl with red hair was tossed from the trapdoor. When her big green eyes fell upon me, she simultaneously recoiled in terror and blushed in awe. Ah, virgins.

“Come here, girl, don’t be a stranger.” I smiled, and beckoned her over. I enjoyed the way she timidly got to her feet, and I savored every little nervous glance and apprehensive footfall that led her into my range. Once there, I grabbed her, transformed into my vampiric self, and sank my fangs into her throat. She cried out and withered into my arms, and I drank her sweet virgin blood until I was satisfied. I always kept my predatory alter-ego very well-fed, mostly because I enjoyed the raw primal power of being her, but also because maintaining control of myself was paramount. Once I was done with the girl, I transformed back, and smiled at her. She was drooling from a gaping smile, her green eyes unfocused in a haze of lust. I ran my hand down her modest breasts and flat belly, then snaked my fingers between her slender little legs, and caressed her there. She crooned and whined, undulating mindlessly to my expert touch, staring at me with comingled virgin apprehension and carnal desperation.

“I think I’ll save you for later.” I grinned against her unkissed lips, “My bedroom’s behind that door over there. Go find yourself an outfit from my closet, then… handcuff yourself to the bedpost so that you’re bent over,” I slid my hand all the way through her pelvic floor until my fingers divided her plump little crack, “I think I’ll take all of your virginity tonight, Lucy. Every, little, hole.”

The poor girl was so wet that I wondered if I’d have to get her a glass of water. She blubbered something, then walked drunkenly to my door, opened it, and closed it behind her.

“Your Highness,” Headmaster Dog Meat prompted. After Zander Fredeon was laid to rest, I was in need of a new magic consultant. Enter: Dog Meat, the sexually-mutilated and warped high-elf with wide eyes and a very strange sense of optimism. She was perfect. I could do things to her that I hadn’t even dreamed of. Firstly, her lack of legs made her incredibly easy to fuck. I could spin that crazy bitch like a fucking helicopter on my dick until she was squirting in a circle. Of course, she transformed into a hybrid right after that, which meant she grew arms and legs and a fat little cock. No more stump wiggling for her. Now she was a stunning statuesque beauty covered in obscene tattoos. She actually offered to let me saw her legs off again—that beautiful crazy bitch—but I declined. For now.

“Yes, Dog Meat?” I asked her.

“You have a portal request from Bentius.” Dog Meat studied the portal she’d spent the last month building, “Looks like one female and one male. Wait, never mind,” she smiled at me, “it’s actually just one person.”

I felt a knot of anxiety form in my throat.

Dog Meat inclined her head toward the bedroom door, “Should I kick Lucy out?”

“Yes—no—or… shit. Goddamn it, where the fuck is my mirror?!”

Certiok giggled. “D’aw, does someone need to get all preened up for her little playdate?”

“I’ve killed better cunts than you for less, orc!” I snapped at her.

She stuck her tongue out at me, completely unfazed. I hurriedly did up my hair, reapplied a sheen of black lipstick, perfumed my tits to get the smell of slut off them, and rinsed out my mouth to get the taste of cock out of it. Yes, I still liked penis, and there were a hundred Adonis vampires just a whistle away. I’d already thanked the surviving male orcs for their service the best way I could, and I was working on getting limber enough for ogres and centaurs. I knew from experience in my old body that I could take them, but… baby steps. What Yavara never realized in her gluttonous debauchery was that patience and control were paramount. Getting ferociously gangbanged by twenty wild beasts was a fun little time, but if it wasn’t done in moderation, then people just thought you were a hopeless slut (guilty), and then you’d have to kill a few arrogant pricks just to remind everyone who the Dark Queen was (also guilty).

“Ok,” I said when I was satisfied, “let her in.”

There was a flash of green light, and Queen Elena Straltaira was standing before me. She was wearing one of my old red satin dresses with the plunging neckline, her hair was done up in a traditional Highland do, and her bronze flesh was ornamented in golden arm cuffs, sparkling bracelets and diamond necklaces. She wore it all with such effortlessness, like the riches that adorned her were fortunate enough to be in contact with something as rare and precious as she. God, I’d forgotten how beautiful she was. Sometime in the wonderful months preceding my transformation, the very definition of beauty had become ‘Elena.’

ELENA

God, I forgot how fucking hot Leveria had become. Her features had always been sharp and refined, the textbook appearance of elven royalty, but masked with dark bronze flesh and maned with jet-black hair, she looked like the devil herself. Her soft noblewoman’s body was now sleek and sculpted with muscle, contouring her succulent feminine bulges with shadows and beautiful lines. Her body was crisscrossed in leather bondage straps that formed an ‘x’ about her squished-together tits, another ‘x’ about her toned abdomen, and another that intersected her crotch, which was adorned with her silvery codpiece. Fishnet stocking wrapped her thick juicy thighs, and stiletto high-heels elevated her from the floor. She was sex personified in a way even Yavara never was. Vulgar and intimidating, perverse and graceful, deadly and lustful, she was the perfect Dark Queen.

“Queen Straltaira, how good of you to join us,” she said casually, leaning against a table that displayed a massive map of Tenvalia, “Certiok and I were just plotting how to take over the world. Hmm… your arrival reminds me; we seem to have overlooked the Highland Kingdom. Ah, but it’s become so insignificant. No wonder I forgot about it.”

I couldn’t help but notice that various chess pieces were strewn about the map. Dark chess pieces covered all of Alkandra and most of the Lowlands, and a few dark pawns were settling into the Bearded peaks. She had grey pieces representing the dwarves and Lowlanders not loyal to her, and white pieces representing the Highland actors. She didn’t try to hide the numerous dark pawns and bishops occupying Highland territory. In fact, she smiled a little when I noticed.

“We had a deal, Leveria.” I growled, “You promised to keep your meddling little fingers out of my country!”

She raised a wicked brow. “Didn’t I just say I forgot about you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Is that why you’re isolating us? The Lowlands won’t trade with us, the Bearded Peaks stopped answering our calls, and all our trades ships seem to be getting intercepted by pirates. We have an abundance of natural resources we want to sell for cheap because we’re drowning in debt, but for some fucking reason, no one wants to buy!”

“What an unfortunate set of circumstances,” Leveria sighed, “being a queen is hard, Your Highness.” She held up a document and grinned at me, “But with just a little signature here, I can make it much, much easier for you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Didn’t you just say you needed customers?”

“I’m not letting you buy my country!”

“You’d still get to be queen! You wouldn’t even be a vassal! You could still write all your own laws, and you could still control your own army. I would just own all the land, industry, and technology, but that’s it!”

“Oh, that’s it?!”

“Mercantilism is the new imperialism, baby.” Leveria tittered, “Wars are so last year. Well, they’re also this year too, but you get the idea. Come on, Elena,” she wiggled the paper, “it’s a very generous offer.”

“I couldn’t sign it if I wanted to.”

Leveria sneered. “I wondered how long it would take for my little sister to oust you.”

“Because it was your plan all along, you conniving cunt.”

“No, because Yavara is more ambitious than you are. Yes, you play the game better than she does, but you play it at an insurmountable disadvantage. Firstly, you’re half dark; secondly, you’re behind her in the line of succession; and thirdly and most importantly, you’re a pacifist. Despite all their pageantry and faux-sophistication, Highlanders are barbaric war-hawks to the core. It was something you never understood even when the entire Noble Court was against you. The nobles weren’t for war because they wanted to kill the Dark Queen—not really, anyway. The nobles just wanted to go to war because war is what Highlanders do. That’s why we never conquered the Great Forest even after Alkandra fell, because a perpetual state of war was just more fun. It’s why Yavara took your throne even though she once waged war against her own people, because at least she was willing to wage war, and you weren’t.”

I scowled at her. “You have a very cynical viewpoint of the Highlands.”

“I have a realistic viewpoint, my dear Elena. You have an idealistic view, and that was why Yavara beat you.” Leveria moved her hand over the map of Tenvalia, and watched me as she grabbed the white queen, exchanged it for a rook, then moved that rook over to Alkandra. “And now here you are as Yavara’s ambassador, I presume. Her trusted rook. A straight-shooter who never veers from the righteous path.” She ***********ed a dark pawn from her bucket, and placed it atop Bentius.

“And Yavara’s your pawn?”

“No, Elena,” she smiled, “that pawn represents opportunity.”

I rolled my eyes. “Because one day it might turn into a queen?”

“Exactly. Though we both know there is no ‘might’ about it. It will, because Yavara will inevitably launch an attack against me, and I will inevitably crush her. Then…” she pulled a dark queen from the bucket of pieces, exchanged my white rook with another dark queen from the bucket, and placed them all in Alkandra next to the dark queen that represented her, “…we can all finally play together.”

“A fantasy.”

“It is for now,” she smiled at me, “but it’s funny how my dreams always seem to come true.” She gestured toward me, “Case and point.”

I sneered. “I bet you thought that was a panty-dropper.”

She narrowed her blazing eyes at me, and smirked. “I can see very plainly that you’re not wearing any panties, Elena.”

It almost worked. I could stay the compulsion to kick off my heels and crawl over to her, but I couldn’t hide my arousal. I was hard as a rock, and pressed painfully against my dress. Leveria drew her eyes down my body, stared at my crotch, and cocked her head with a little smile. Then her eyes drew up to me, and she licked her lips.

“I’ll just…” I muttered, suddenly unable to remember basic words, “I need… I need to sleep now, Your Highness. In the guest room.”

“Of course,” she purred, “but we don’t have a guest chamber, Ambassador. It’s your room. Make yourself at home.”

“This isn’t my home!” I said fiercely, unsure why I was so flustered.

Leveria just smiled, and waved her hand. “Dog Meat, please show the ambassador to her quarters.”

A beautiful hybrid covered in tattoos and dressed in masochistic bondage stepped before me, and offered me her hand with a wide smile.

“Dog Meat?” I gasped.

She wiggled her arms, and giggled. “That’s me!” She took my hand in hers, and led me out of the war-room, up a single flight of stairs, and into a bedroom the likes of which I’d never seen before. Most of the room was occupied by an enormous bed, and within that bed were piles of pillows, heaps of clothes, and more sex toys than I could conceive of.

“The old hybrids used to live here.” Dog Meat said, “Can you imagine what it must’ve been like?” She paced around the room, and ran her fingers through the silken sheets, “If this bed could talk, imagine the stories it would tell. It’s a shame that it’s been empty for so long.”

“Where do you sleep then?”

“Over there,” Dog Meat pointed to a large dog kennel in the corner, then grinned back at me, “but I’d be willing to sleep like a person if you’d be willing to snuggle.”

“No thank you.”

“No thank you?” Dog Meat giggled incredulously, and turned until we were face to face. “Elena Straltaira, when did you become such a nun?”

“You don’t know me.”

“But I’ve heard so many stories.” She hissed, and drew her tender fingers up my arm, “The queen never stops talking about you. She even cries out your name sometimes on the rare occasions she lets me use my cock on her. Then I have to hold her while she weeps.” Dog Meat giggled mischievously, and put her finger over her lips, “Don’t tell her I told you that, or she’ll cut my limbs off! It’ll be our little secret. Sisters should keep Ankara Escort each other’s secrets.”

“Sisters?”

“Isn’t that what we are?” She whispered, her fingers moving up my neck, touching my jaw, “The hybrids that were made by Yavara are all gone. A new sisterhood is forming, and you and I are its first members.”

“I was made by Yavara.”

She smiled. “Were you, Elena? Were you really? Perhaps she transformed you, but it was someone else who made you.” Her fingers snaked into my hair, and framed my head so delicately. “Won’t you lie with me, sister?” She whispered so sweetly.

I couldn’t help myself. After three months of fucking no one else but my mother, I needed some variety. Besides, I’d never fucked someone else like me before, and considering the rave reviews I got from my partners, I would be denying myself by denying Dog Meat. I could trust her. She was my sister, after all.

YAVARA

It had been three months since I had performed my soft coup on Elena, and I was just getting around to my coronation ceremony. It would be tomorrow after the planting festival, when Bentius would be filled with farmers and city-folk alike. I wanted to get it over with much sooner, but being the queen of a crippled nation left no time for ceremony.

Firstly, I had to get my new organs surgically stuffed back into me, and the healing process left me bedridden for six weeks. While my body began the arduous task of accepting and incorporating my new organs, I directed the country from the royal bedroom. The economy was a shitshow, the army was deserting left and right, the reconstruction of Bentius was taking a painfully long time, and the planting season was poor. We needed trade, which meant we needed to find someone willing to trade with us. It took the royal mages ten weeks to rebuild the Jonian Spire, but when I turned on my new international mirror, I found very few people willing to talk to me. The governors of the Lowlands wouldn’t answer my calls, the lords of the Bearded Peaks ignored me, and though the Balamora nations at least picked up their mirrors, trade and diplomacy were off the table. Leveria was trying to bleed me dry. Elena had told me as much.

My newly-appointed ambassador had been conspicuously absent for quite some time. She didn’t show up for the first week, which was expected; Elena was a notorious pouter. She came back the week after, and made a point of being very stiff with me. She only referred to me as ‘Your Highness,’ which she knew I hated. If it weren’t for Lydia and Esmerelda, I would’ve felt like the Dark Queen all over again; disconnected and isolated. The three of us spent every night together in my bed. At first, they’d only been there to help me while I rehabilitated, but as we became more and more familiar with each other, our inhibitions faded until we finally just fucked in a raucous vampiric threesome. Lydia was my new blood mother. I daresay the royal guards got an earful.

Though Elena’s mother and the rebel leader both developed into very potent lovers under my lustful tutelage, I still wasn’t sexually satisfied. Both were submissive lovers, and neither had the one thing I really, really needed. And though there were thousands of suitable bachelors in Bentius, I couldn’t just snag one off the streets and bring him to my bed like I did when I was in Alkandra. If anyone found out, it would destroy my reputation, and my reputation was held together by tape and staples as it was. My retransformation was considered my rebirth, and all deeds I’d committed as the Dark Queen were considered void, but there was no denying that I had done them. One misstep might see me dragged out to the guillotine by an angry mob. I had to be perfect. I was considered a virgin once more after my retransformation, and I had to find a suitable husband to break my chastity; only then would I get my fix, because Elena wasn’t putting out.

“I will let you do literally anything to me!” I hissed as we walked down the corridors of Castle Bentius. I had to wear dense and ballooning traditional garb, but Elena sauntered around the castle in a sleek little outfit that hid absolutely nothing.

Elena shuffled through her papers, and said, “As I was saying, the trade ships from the summer isles—”

“Don’t you fucking blow me off!”

“—were intercepted by Alkandran mercenaries. Leveria of course denies any involvement. If we bring this up to—”

“Elena!”

She turned to me, and raised her blonde brows. “Yes, Your Highness?”

I rolled my eyes. “When are you going to stop this nonsense?”

“Not having sex with you is ‘nonsense?’”

“We haven’t even kissed!” I ran my hands through my hair, and sighed. “Are you going to keep stringing me along forever? You’ve been walking around the castle dressed like a stripper, and I know it’s not because that outfit is comfortable.”

“It’s certainly more comfortable than that outfit.”

“I mean it, Elena.” I muttered, inching closer to her, “When are you going to forgive me?”

“I’m not punishing you.”

“Then why are you being so cold to me?” I asked, getting scandalously close to her in a public setting.

She looked steadily into my eyes, and didn’t answer.

“Are we…” I swallowed, “are we… done?”

She continued to hold my gaze for an agonizingly long time, then broke it with a sigh. “No, Yavara, we’re not done. I’m still in love with you, and I want to be with you, but…”

“…you love Leveria more.” I answered with a defeated whimper.

“I haven’t touched her.”

“Bullshit.” I sniffled, “You’re with her almost every night.”

“It’s true, Yavara.” Elena said with conviction, “I love you both, but I won’t touch either of you.”

“Why?”

She just smiled. “For the Highlands, of course.”

ELENA

I had told Yavara the truth about me and Leveria, but not the whole truth. Yes, I had remained chaste with Leveria, but it wasn’t some great struggle. Unlike Yavara who threw herself at me many times in a day, Leveria was nothing to me but cordial. Most of our conversations outside the war-room were just pleasant small talk, generally about the progress of Alkandra’s reconstruction, or perhaps lighthearted recollections of the past fun we had. There was a strange undertone to it all that disturbed me; I couldn’t help but feel that she was manipulating me, but I didn’t know how.

Alkandra was strikingly quiet these days. The thousands of now-orphaned beast children were being raised in Ardeni by surrogate parents, so there were only a few thousand people living in Alkandra proper, and most of them were Ardeni construction workers who camped outside. The castle had five-hundred residents, half of which were vampires who lived in the dungeon, and the other half were the scant beast survivors of the Lowland attack. The guest wing of the building was almost as populated as the residential wing, for foreign investors and dignitaries were flooding the docks.

Despite the carnage Alkandra had endured, Leveria still maintained its reputation as a place for sinful delights. On more than one occasion while walking down the hallway, I caught her through an open door. It was on such occasions that I felt like the scared little ranger I had been in Prestira Rasloraca’s bar, watching disbelievingly as Yavara did things I never thought I’d see her do. Only Leveria was worse. Through the cracked-open bedroom door, I saw the Dark Queen in all her sexual savagery and avarice. She took a dozen men at a time, and somehow dominated them all. She fucked her lovers with hatred—men and women alike—pounding into their tender orifices until they were simultaneously sobbing for mercy and joy. The snarl she bore upon her face was a display of malice and delight, and the violent motions of her beautiful body were somehow more graceful than a dancer’s. She was as terrible as she was desirable, as abusive as she was tender, as hateful as she was loving. An angel. A devil. I couldn’t look away. I would watch her from the dark hallway, and I would masturbate furiously. And inevitably, she would subtly break from the debauchery in such a way that no one else noticed, turn her face toward the door, and wink at me. But that was all. She never invited me in, though I knew I was welcome. The depravity of Alkandra was welcome to me behind every door—whether it be vampires, succubi, incubi, or revelers from far away countries—but I never partook. I only sated myself with Dog Meat, and only in the dead of night.

Leveria and I maintained this tenuous distance for three months. It was only when we were locked in the heated debate of the war-room that our armor fell away. It was just like old times in the Noble Court. She was as vicious and clever as she ever was, and even more daring than before, and I had to parry endlessly just to keep up. Without the rest of the nobles to play off of, it was just her and me, and that was no match at all. After hours of defensive maneuvering, we would leave the war-room together, and recommence our subdued relationship as ambassador and queen.

“We finally got all the rubble pushed into the sea.” Leveria said, gesturing across the burgeoning city. Everything Adrianna had built was gone, wiped clean from the surface of the earth, leaving only the foundations. “I think I’ll build an even bigger arena when the trolls from Ardeni get here. If there’s one thing I know about ruling beasts, it’s that an arena is an absolute necessity.”

“I’m sorry you had to endure that.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Hell, it wasn’t even Yavara’s.” Leveria chuckled to herself, “I don’t even blame myself, actually. I guess all that horror was just… Alkandra calling me home. I wish you’d seen it. I was magnificent.”

“I would never watch that.”

“I’m sure the idea is abhorrent to you, but I guarantee you wouldn’t have been able to look away.”

“Not everyone is as fucked up as you.”

“No, but you’re pretty close.” She winked congenially at me, “Dog Meat doesn’t keep secrets well from either of us.”

“She’s got a mouth on her,” I mumbled into my wine glass, “and she sure knows how to use it.”

“I’m glad you two are getting along. If there’s anything Yavara did right as the queen, it was establishing a ruling elite.”

“I’m an ambassador, not your citizen.”

She wiggled her fingers. “Viola! You now have dual citizenship.”

“This isn’t my home, Leveria. It never will be.”

“It grows on you; give it time.” Leveria inhaled the spring air deeply, and let out a smiling breath. “I have such grand designs for this place, Elena. Within ten years, you won’t be able to see the city limits from here; they will stretch to the horizon. I won’t be able to control everything then. Hell, I’m having a hard time of it now. Between managing the Lowlands and conquering the Bearded Peaks, I find myself being stretched thinner every day.”

“Get to the point.”

She smirked at me. “I was about to ask you to be my ambassador to the Highlands.”

I snorted.

“I’m not joking.”

“I know, and I’m not accepting.”

“You wouldn’t have to change anything.” Leveria said, pulling out a cigarette, “I know you’re a Highland loyalist through-and-through. You’d just have to… consider both perspectives.”

“No.”

“You wouldn’t have to stop being Yavara’s ambassador either. You’d just—”

“No, Leveria.” I said firmly.

Leveria turned to me, the mask of congeniality gone from her face. “We haven’t talked about what happened that day in the tower.”

“Which day in the tower?”

“Both days, actually.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “There’s nothing that needs to be said.”

“I’d say there is.” Leveria twisted her fingers together, “I uh… I know what it’s like.”

“What?”

“Death.” She stared fixedly at her entwined fingers, “Before Yavara transformed me, she blew my brains out. For about a minute there… I don’t know… there wasn’t anything. I never believed in God, but I… I always thought there had to be… something.”

“Maybe there is. Maybe we’re just not part of it.”

“Maybe…” She mumbled. Her eyes flitted up to mine, “When you saw that I was alive, what did you feel?”

“A lot of things.”

She laughed. “Yeah… me too. I guess a lot happened between us while we weren’t there. Funny how that works.”

“Yeah…”

She twisted her fingers into such knots that they were white around the knuckles. “The first day in the tower, you died for me. The second day in the tower, you tried to kill me. You really tried to kill me.”

“I did.”

“You said you loved me.”

“I still do.”

“But…” her brow furrowed, and tears formed in her orange eyes, “you’ve been there, Elena, you knew what it was like beyond, and you still… you still…”

“It tore me to pieces, Leveria, is that what you want to hear?” I growled, “Because you won’t get an apology from me.”

She shook her head, and pursed her lips around her cigarette. After letting out a cloud of smoke, she said, “I don’t want an apology from you, Elena. Not ever.”

“Then what do you want?”

She tilted her head, and considered the western horizon. “Before you fell from that tower, you were the link between Yavara and me. We hated each other, but you gave us a strange commonality. Now, you are the reason we’re driven apart. If you had died that day in Bentius, Yavara and I would’ve fallen in love.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Something you can’t understand,” Leveria muttered. “I believe with all my heart that you were a gift sent to me by… whatever force works in the world. You were my deliverer to this place—to myself. Now I’m here, and you are lost.”

“You’re delusional.”

“No, you are.” Leveria looked steadily at me, “All your life, you were an outcast, but you tried so hard to fit into an idea of yourself. You joined the rangers. You swore oaths. You made yourself believe that you were the person you wanted to be. A patriot. A defender of your nation. But if you truly loved your country, then why did you commit the rest of your life to Castle Thorum and the Great Forest? Rangers weren’t patriots; they were criminals and pariahs. That was why it was so easy for them to betray the Highlands after Yavara transformed them.”

“Fuck you.”

“I am a pathological liar, but I’m honest with myself. You’ve been telling yourself a lie all your life. You are not a Highlander, Elena. You never were. Neither was Yavara, for that matter. I was the only one of the three of us who truly understood what the Highland kingdom is, and even when I was the queen of it, I held it in contempt. You asked me what I want, Elena; I want you to gain some fucking perspective.” Leveria flicked her cigarette, stepped on the embers, and said, “See you in the morning.”

Then she left me.

LEVERIA

Certiok had to demonstrate her loyalty to me before I gave her what she wanted. I liked her, but she was too ambitious. I needed to know that she’d submit, and more than just sexually. I tested her with fake contracts from Ardeni offering a king’s ransom just to slip poison in my wine. She ignored each one until one day, she finally bit on an offer too great to deny. I was disappointed in her. I disguised myself as an Ardeni merchant, and waited at our meeting spot. Sure enough, Certiok came sneaking around the corner. I was about to pull off my disguise and reveal myself, but she fired three crossbow bolts into my chest before I could. She earned her reward after that.

“Oh, sweet fuck!” the she-orc princess gasped, tears streaming down her face. She was quivering on the bed like an epileptic, wracked with waves of orgasms that wouldn’t cease even after I’d pulled out. I assisted the poor girl by elevating her pelvis lest she shake out all the precious baby-gravy I’d deposited inside of her, then I enjoyed the show. Her tattooed pale green body was a tapestry of abuse. Her nipples and clit were swollen, her anus and pussy were gaping, and there were bright-red handprints all over her flesh. Little strands of her hair were still twisted around my fingers, and bruises had already formed around her throat from where I’d choked her. It was strange to think that a cute little baby would be the end result of all this sadomasochistic depravity, but I supposed nature itself was savage, and so life’s inception should be too.

“What did you do to me?!” Certiok squealed in ecstasy, writhing in the sheets. After a minute of ardent self-combat, she finally eased back to sanity. “Oh my god!” She panted, her breaths decelerating, “I thought I was going to die!”

“I have that effect on people.” I chuckled, watching my cum drain slowly into her gaping depths. When I was satisfied that the conception was done, I let her lie flat on the bed. She was so spent that there was no strength in her at all, and she just flopped there, completely useless. “What are you going to name her?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” Certiok groaned, “The last one was going to be named ‘Sherok’ after Trenok’s mother, but… god, they’re all dead. Brock, Trenok, the Terdini, the Protaki, the Ten. A thousand years of memories and traditions were wiped out in less than a week.”

“Good riddance.”

She scowled at me. “Sometimes I forget that you were the genocidal maniac who did it all.”

“The past thousand years were just one giant misstep for orc-kind, Certiok. You were once feared by all the world, then you devolved into stone-age barbarians. It’s best to forget it happened. It’s quite embarrassing, really.”

“Well, your name just got crossed off the list.” Certiok said, patting her belly.

“Don’t care. Don’t expect me to help you raise that thing, by the way.”

“Why the hell would I want you to?”

“Just tell me when it turns eighteen so that I can—”

“Ok, pillow-talk’s over,” Certiok said, eased herself off the bed, and waddled out of the room.

I chuckled to myself, cleaned off my cock with a washcloth, then lit up a cigarette, and lounged in my bed. I turned to the hallway door, and winked at the woman I couldn’t see in the darkness. This time, she didn’t recede into the black. She stayed there, watching me. I didn’t beckon her. I just sucked on my square, and practiced my smoke-rings until she finally spoke.

“What does it mean to be Alkandran?” she asked softly.

I blew a smoke ring, then manipulated the shape with my mind until it became the profile of a shapely woman with a massive cock. “It means that you aren’t ashamed of who you are,” I smiled at the dark crack between the door and the doorframe, “or what you want.”

“What if you don’t know what you want?”

“Then you don’t know yourself.” I inclined my head, “But I know what you want.”

“Tell me!” she whispered, though it almost sounded like a scream.

I took another pull from my cigarette, and let the smoke filter out. The wisps took the unmistakable shape of the tiered city of Bentius. “I already gave you what you want.”

“What?”

“I told you that day in the tower while Yavara was dying between us. You won.”

“I could give a shit about beating you, Leveria!”

“No,” I muttered, watching the smoky shape of Bentius disappear. “I gave you what you want, but I can’t make you take it. What you want can only be taken by letting go of it. You want someone to tell you that you saved your homeland so that you can finally unshackle yourself from it.”

“Nothing is safe from you!”

“But it is safe with me, Elena. As part of my empire, the Highlands will persist and thrive for thousands of years.” I raised my hands magnanimously, “There. All your oaths have been fulfilled, and all of your duties are relieved. You can stop fighting the good fight, Ranger. It’s over. You won.”

“Won?!” She screamed, “What did I win, Leveria?! The right to put the crown on the Dark Queen’s head?!”

“Am I not the rightful queen of the Highlands? Am I not firstborn of the Tiadoa lineage, of sound mind, and of hale health? You were a dark-blood, and you took the throne, so why can’t I?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE THE DARK QUEEN!”

I took a long, slow drag from my cigarette, and contemplated the dark space between the door and its frame. “In five hundred years, a high-elf child will dip her toes in the Merchant Fountain in the old square of Bentius. She will look upon wet statues of kings and queens, and she will wonder if she can name them all. Then she will go to school, and she will learn arithmetic, spelling, and history. In the middle of class, her teacher will turn toward the blackboard, and the little girl will pass a note to her best friend. Her best friend will smile nervously, and take the note. In that moment, there will be two hands holding that piece of paper. One hand will be light-skinned, and the other will be dark. Then the teacher will turn around, and the dark-skinned girl will hastily tuck the note away. She’ll read it later, and though she’s shivering with excitement at what secrets the note might hold, she doesn’t really care of their contents. The elation she feels is that she has someone like her who loves her.”

For a moment, there was just silence behind the door. I could see Elena’s mind, but I would not read it. I would never dare do that to her. The seconds past us in silence, then she opened the door. She was wearing a loose nightgown that draped sensually over her body, and her hair was tossed carelessly over her left shoulder. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks were wet with tears.

“Do you promise?” she whispered.

“I promise.” I whispered back.

Elena took two deep breaths through her nose, and slowly let them from her mouth. With her exhalation, her shoulders relaxed, seemingly eased from some great burden. She walked toward me, her steps slow and purposeful, her hips swaying beneath her shift, her eyes surveying me all the way. They swept along my fishnet-clad toned thighs, lingered on my rising cock, traversed my leather-strapped abdomen, then rested on my eyes. Çankaya Escort Her gaze stayed connected with mine as she climbed onto the bed, and began to crawl her way to me. Her posture wasn’t that of the stalking jungle cat, nor was it that of the demure rabbit. She came to me with curiosity in her eyes, trepidation in her shoulders, and confidence in her hips. This sexual unsureness was something I’d never seen in her before, and it threatened to stoke the sadistic parts of my lust, but I suppressed it. I would not take charge of this moment. I would let her discover me herself.

She reached my feet, then sat back in a kneeling position. She nearly looked like a virgin on her maiden night with the hesitant inclination of her head, and the modest shift covering her just barely below the waist, but there was a bulge tenting her skirt, and her eyes were flitting with avaricious movements. I put out my cigarette, and eased back, letting her examine me until her eyes were filled. Being the subject of such a scrutinizing inspection was incredibly arousing, and with my balls shrunken tight against the base of my shaft, Elena could see the blushing little pussy and pink anus she’d spent so much time in.

Finally, she made her move. With a coy little smile, she crawled between my spread legs, and dipped her head low. Her face disappeared beneath me, and the skirt of her shift tightened around her plump ass until it sprang past her hips, exposing the shadowed bow of her elegant back. I could feel her breath in my nethers, a soft warm wind whispering down, down, down until it was hot and rapt against my puckered anus.

“It’s like a buffet down here,” she mused with a chuckle, “so many delicious options. I guess I’ll start with the salad.”

Then, I felt her tongue. I gasped. She was as good with it as she ever was, and she teased the little spokes and puffy rim she knew so well, making my vile aperture relax and wink open for her. When she slid her tongue inside of me, I cried out in glee and arched my back, pointing my throbbing cock at the ceiling. Her exploratory appendage slithered within my tight depths, tasting all surfaces of my sinful channel until it rested upon something… new. She paused upon my male organ, giving me a moment of reprieve before she began her devious work.

“Lick my filthy little man-pussy!” I exclaimed with a hedonistic exhalation of breath, my entire body clenching in delight, my rectum seizing around her slimy warm invasion. Her lips pursed around my anal ring and sucked as she curled the point of her tongue against my prostate, and my cock frothed in reaction. I clenched my fists in my hair and whined in lustful distress, making myself endure her torture, staying every desire within me to grab her head and shove it between my fat cheeks until she suffocated. She drove me right up until the edge of my restraint, swirling her little tongue through my clenching depths until deep tingles were riding up my curved spine, then she retracted her tongue with a slurp, and planted a finishing kiss on my dominated hole. I felt her lips curl in a wicked smile against me, then I felt her mouth move up a few inches. She sniffed indulgently from my leaking sex, and exhaled with a contented sigh. I could feel her drooling against me.

“Ah, my favorite treat,” she whispered, and began her meal. I whimpered as she kissed her way up my slit, pursing her lips between my puffy folds, poking her tongue teasingly between my unfurling petals. Her hands came together between my legs, then opened about my thighs to slide them further apart so that she could get deeper. Her lips and tongue caressed every crease and valley she knew so well, traversing me with such practiced expertise that I was purring like a kitten for her. Then the point of her nose upended my balls, and found the place where my clit used to be. Now it was just the base of my cock, and for a moment, Elena seemed perplexed. She recovered quickly, and moved back down, letting my tight balls rest against the bridge of her nose as her lips opened around my tight entrance. Her tongue slithered out once more, and began to circle me.

“That’s it,” I crooned, “eat it, you little dyke slut.”

Elena grinned around my entrance, and plunged her tongue inside. My domineering nature melted away the moment the point of her seeking member found the familiar spot on my ceiling, and she tormented it with practiced confidence, slipping and sliding the tip through a dizzying array of patterns that left me gasping. I clutched the sheets and pillows with desperate hands, needing something to grab onto as my pelvis bucked and thrusted to the whim of Elena’s puppeteering tongue, my feet kicking wildly.

“Oh, fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-FUCK!” I screamed, feeling my insides flutter and contract, feeling the felicitous tingles growing within me until they were spreading down my inner-thighs and up into my abdomen, churning my insides until they butter. She pinned my jerking body down, and sloppily burrowed into me, slathering my outsides with her spit, swirling my insides with her tongue, feasting like a glutton, forcing those sensations deeper and deeper into me. I exalted and exclaimed, thrashing this way and that, unable to contain the ecstasy ballooning within me until it finally burst! I croaked out a pathetic sob, and released my orgasm into Elena’s face from my second urethra. She drank my ecstatic urine with pleasure, humming indulgently as she pursed her lips around the hole, and eased me gently back to sanity.

“Mmmm,” Elena hummed, “now time for the main course.”

“Don’t forget the appetizers!” I groaned.

“Of course,” Elena chuckled, and wrapped her lips around my balls. I sighed and relaxed into sexual splendor, the tension from earlier now released from me. With subtle gasps and indulgent moans, I enjoyed the way Elena’s tender wet mouth gently manipulated my roiling orbs. Her cheeks puffed with them as her tongue divided them, and she mewled decadently as her lips came together around the loose sack, and drew everything sensually into her mouth. I felt her fingers move down my crack, and penetrate the holes she’d already tasted. The knuckles popped into the tight orifices with ease, and she kneaded my channels until I was crooning delightedly. As she feasted upon my male parts, her body language began to change. The predatory hunch of her shoulders eased, and the bow of her back deepened to perk her ass up in the air. She displayed her feminine assets purposefully, and when I looked down between my legs, I was greeted by the beautiful sight of Elena’s cute little face staring expectantly back up at me, my cock resting across half of it and my balls puffing out her adorable cheeks. She didn’t want me to be the captive lover anymore; she wanted me to be a man.

I snaked my fingers into her hair, and balled my fists. I wasn’t forceful with her, only firm enough to let her know that I’d treat her right. She blushed pleasurably, and took my nuts deeper into her mouth, inching them along with the beckoning curl of her tongue until there wasn’t enough sack left to suck.

“That’s a good girl,” I grinned, petting her head dotingly, “do you like how my balls taste?”

She nodded girlishly; the expression corrupted by the fleshy sack drawn tight between her pursed lips.

“Is my good girl ready for the main course?” I whispered, flexing my cock.

She eyed it with childlike avarice, completely unfazed by its size. I giggled, and guided her upward. My balls plopped from her pursed lips one at a time, better cleaned then they’d been since I’d gotten them. Elena nestled her face against the base of my cock, and sniffed my shaft with her eyes closed.

“Does it smell good?” I whispered.

“So good…” she hissed, her eyes opening to reveal dilated pupils. Watching me carefully, she opened her mouth, slithered out her tongue, and began to lick me. She painted a tortuous path up my shaft, tasting every inch, tickling and caressing me with her wonderful appendage until she was at my tip. She circled the crease of my head, tasted the froth at my apex, then hovered her plush moist lips over me, and made deep eye-contact. “I hope the queen of blowjobs doesn’t judge me too harshly,” she muttered, her lips tickling my throbbing tip.

“I’m a generous critic.” I smiled, lacing my fingers deeper into her blonde hair.

Elena retracted her hands from between my legs, and wrapped them one atop the other about my shaft. She took a moment to marvel at my size, then she began kneading her delicate digits into my cock-flesh, and licking my tip. I let her explore me with her hands, let her marvel at the texture, heat and hardness of me, let her appreciate the way I throbbed and pulsed with every one of her loving squeezes. The more she played with my organ, the more fascinated she became with it, and the more sensual her touches became in turn. Her fingers made graceful passes up and down my shaft, her palms cupped and cradled every girthy length, and her tongue wettened by the second until her drool was oozing from my head in thick rivulets. I watched the change come over as the magic of my incubus cock took hold of her senses. I watched her pupils dilate until the sapphire was nearly gone from her eyes; I watched her features relax until they were mindless with bliss; I watched her posture ease into a languid sprawl between my legs, her body ready and willing for my sickest desires. But for Elena, my only desire was her love and trust, and so I let her do as she pleased, and I enjoyed every wonderful second of it. In the months since my transformation, I had lain with thousands of lovers, but none of them were like her. Oh, the things she did to me…

Without warning, Elena flattened her hands about my pelvis, and took every inch of me into her. She gagged when I breached the fleshy sphincter of her throat, then groaned pleasantly once the hard part was over, and slid me effortlessly down her gullet. I gawked at her. She stared back up at me, her neck bulging with my imprint, her lips wrapped firmly around my base. She closed one eye in a self-satisfied wink, then began to swallow around me.

“Oh, fuck!” I squealed. I lost control. I knotted my fingers into her hair, and smooshed her face into my crotch. She purred victoriously at my loss of equanimity, and rewarded me with a passionate rotation of her lips, slurping all the way until the skin before her suction was white with pressure. My eyes rolled back into my head, and I held her firmly against me, unwilling and unable to relinquish her. She milked me with her swallowing throat, caressed me with the flat of her tongue along my underside, and then slid her hands between my clenched cheeks, and pinched the fingers of each before my entrances. I didn’t have a chance to react. She fisted me with both hands, driving my tight orifices into my body before the fleshy cuffs of each gave way, and sprang back elastically to wrap her wrists, allowing her digits and knuckles to burrow deep, deep, deep inside of me.

“Oh my god, Elena!” I sobbed, “Wreck me!”

Oh, she did. Her hands twisted inside me, molding themselves into my holes, nestling tightly through the wet tender inner flesh that hugged her so ardently. The hand inside my pussy turned to grind her knuckles against my internal spot, and the hand inside my ass upturned so that she could press the pads of her fingers against my masculine organ, and milk me. I was trapped once again, a slave to her every whim, a puppet to her every motion. She smiled evilly around the grotesque piece of meat stretching her mouth, and began to slurp her way up. I forced her back down with both hands, and enjoyed the glugging of her throat before she twisted her wrists, and made me pay so, so dearly. I cried out in ecstasy, my body twisting above the waist, my legs and hips pinned by the vindictive hermaphrodite atop me. She was the only one I would ever let have the upper hand, for she was the only one who could make me feel such abhorrent pleasures.

Her head bobbed slowly up and down, revealing the spit-sheened length of my meat before she consumed it once more. The seal of her lips drew the pressure up my shaft with each slow pull, and she chuckled lowly with my cock in her throat as I whined and hissed, struggling not to come too soon. Her middle and ring finger pressed and stroked my prostate, coercing the nectar from my loins. Her other hand upturned in my pussy and retracted to collect my balls in her palm, then penetrated me once more, stretching my scrotal skin, pushing my pulsating orbs into my sweltering slit. All the while, she sucked me, never breaking eye-contact, watching me with her keen sapphire orbs and gauging my every reaction. I couldn’t hold myself back, and she knew it. She worked my cock with long, impassioned motions, taking me to the head and plunging to the base, never giving me a chance to find relief between the swallowing embrace of her throat, and the wet suctions of her lips. The pressure boiled in my loins, lanced through my ass, and built in my shaft. My balls roiled with euphoria, spasming inside my own cunt as my second female orgasm ascended. I couldn’t hold it any longer! My neck striated with tension, and I gritted my teeth to suppress the dismayed groan that emanated from my throat. It was no use. It came out as a note of pure surrender, high and true, and I thrusted violently in the air, buried my cock deep into Elena’s esophagus, and erupted into her belly.

As I descended with gasping breaths, Elena ascended, slurping up my length until my tip popped from her lush slightly-swollen lips. A few final spurts of ejaculate splattered her across her nose, mouth and hair, and she licked up all that her tongue could reach, and left the rest to perversely decorate her portrait. When she climbed up my body, her eyes were possessed of me, staring it awe upon the leather straps that crossed my muscular abdomen, the breasts which protruded fully from my chest in defiance of gravity, and the dark little nipples that pointed accusingly at her, the flesh around them prickled with readiness. She climbed until her thighs overlapped mine, and she was seated securely in my lap. Her eyes wandered down to our joined crotches. Her cock had poked out from the bottom of her skirt, and was now standing rigidly from her pelvis. It was bronze and smooth, nearly feminine somehow, a stark juxtaposition to the behemoth that stood before it, all vascular and muscular, shining with a coat of her spit. She looked up at me, then eased herself forward, and pressed our cocks together.

“Wanna swordfight?” she giggled, then moaned when the stiff rubbery members began to rub sensually together.

“It seems you brought a knife.” I chuckled.

“Good thing I know just how to stab you then.” She cooed, and pressed harder against me. Precum bubbled from both of our tips, and we sighed in mutual satisfaction, and watched the way our masculine members danced against each other. They wobbled rigidly, then slid alongside each other, and we groan and moaned in splendid delight as we shifted to accentuate the grinding. Soon, our entropic dance of cocks was moistened with thick rivulets of precum that smeared and lathered, creating bridges of white viscous fluid between our shafts. She elevated herself, gently grasped my cock, and pushed our tips together in a perverse kiss. With the utmost care, she slid my foreskin over her pink head until our bodies were joined by a continuous column of penile flesh. She ran her hands from my base to hers like she was pulling rope, increasing the pressure in our shafts, building the perverse intimacy until I swore I could feel all the way into her.

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me, Leveria,” she moaned.

“Whatever you want.”

She laughed breathily. “I want to see what kind of man you are.”

I slid my hands up her thighs, around her waist, and hooked my fingers beneath her shift. She released our shafts so that I could pull her clothes off her, and stare at her nudity. She was more athletic than she was voluptuous, but she never lacked for curves. I contoured her hourglass with my hands until I came to her breasts, and then I pinched each nipple. She gasped slightly, then mewled when I rolled the little nodes until they were stiff and moist. I pinched her a little harder, and waited for her reaction of pain. She mewled pleasantly, savoring my roughness in a way she never had before. There was her heterosexual feminine side. I’d never seen it before—not directed at me, anyways—and I could feel its danger. This side of her was chaotic and unexplored, either loving or dominant, but never submissive. I ran my hands over her shoulders, slid my fingers down her back, and grabbed her ass hard. My digits sank into her succulent fat, the tips dug into her crack, and I found her puckered anus with a gentle graze. Her cock bounced against mine, and her abdomen flexed with a spasm. She willowed with a pathetic moan, her eyes cast heavily and meekly. Ah, there was her gay male side. Yes, it was very submissive. She wilted down against me, pressing our cocks together, squishing our tummies and breasts, touching our foreheads so that we stared into each other’s eyes.

“You want to know what I’m going to do to you, Elena?” I whispered.

“What?” She whispered back, completely enraptured by me.

“I’m going to rape your little faggot asshole until you beg me to stop,” I grinned as she shuddered all over, “then I’m going to make sweet love to your pussy until your toes curl back into your heels.”

“Show me!”

Our mouths connected fiercely, our lips smooshed and opened, and our tongue snaked out to entwine and dance in a slippery joining. I tasted every shade of her lust; her feminine homosexuality and all its sensuality, her male heterosexuality and all its domineering lust, her feminine heterosexuality and all its chaos, and her male homosexuality and all of its submission. She tasted me back, and there was one overpowering flavor. Dominance. It was sadism and control, manipulation and torture; it was who I’d always been, but not for her. For her, the old me still lingered, a competitor, a lover, a woman who could submit or overpower depending on the tone of our love, for its variety was endless and nonrepeating. We would never share a night like this again, nor would we ever share a night like tomorrow, or the next night, or the next night. As I wrapped my lips about hers and dug my fingers deeper into her crack, I felt a great joy come over me. She was mine. Mine for tomorrow, mine for the next day, mine forever.

I grabbed Elena by the hair, and ripped her head back. She snarled combatively for a moment, then her anger melted away when she felt me take my big fat cock, slide it along her shaft, pop it out behind her, and push it between her cheeks.

“Squat.” I commanded softly, and let go of her hair. Elena rose to a sitting position, spread her legs, and eased herself into a wide squat. I took her by one hip, and guided my cock teasingly back and forth across her little faggot asshole. She whined and mewled, reached back and spread herself, flexed her little cock and danced lecherously, but she did not sit. She endured my torture until her anus was popping hungrily, sending convulsions through her entire pelvic floor. Only then did I give the order, “Sit.”

She sat, and I growled in delight. Her little anus opened around my tip, and bowed into her crack with the increasing pressure until I finally broke through. She threw back her head and let out a gleeful cry, then descended inch after inch, sucking me into her vile innards with her elastic anal ring, taking me past her first and second sphincters until I was buried deep into her hot tight channel. Her ass pillowed against my crotch, her cock wobbled with a string of cum, and she shivered from head to toe.

“Oh my god!” she whined, her voice sounding as though in great distress, “Oh, Leveria, I’ve never had a cock this good before!”

“I haven’t even started to fuck you yet!” I giggled, running my hands covetously up her belly, “Gah, your little faggot asshole is so tight! Clench it for me!”

She let out a delighted groan, and clenched all around me, coiling her sphincters until I was trapped snugly inside. “Oh fuck!” she whimpered, “Leveria, you’re fucking ruining me!”

“Not yet.” I hissed, and began to thrust. Her anal sheath held me even as I retreated, pulling out of her like a pink sleeve until it retracted violently about her swollen ring. She sputtered and croaked each time, her eyes filming with ecstatic tears. I bounced her off my crotch, plunging all the way into her tender innards, splitting her, impaling her, hollowing her channel all the way down, but she was still so fucking tight! Faster and faster I went, fucking her harder and harder until her breasts and ass were jiggling, her hair was flailing, and her back was arching more and more. She cried out with every sudden plunge, her thighs quivering in abject euphoria, her hips squirming as though to expel the pleasure from her navel, for it was too great to contend with.

“Don’t fucking touch your cock!” I screamed when she reached for it, “No, no, no, little faggot. You’re going to come from your shithole like a good little slut!”

“You’re so mean to me!” she wailed.

“Mean?! Mean?!” I laughed sardonically, “I was being nice to you! I’ll fucking show you MEAN!”

I pinned her against me, rolled us over, then suppressed her with my weight. She tried to fight me for a second, but I was stronger than her now. A pair of balls and nonstop fucking for three months had done wonders for me, and she’d let herself get soft. I pinned her hands above her head, angled her pelvis upward for better access, and began mercilessly driving into her clenching shithole. She howled in my face as I fucked her at a fervent pace, our eyes locked and staring heatedly, looking into each other’s souls.

“You’re squeezing me so tightly!” I growled, “Your shithole is absolutely craving my cock! You little fucking twink slut!”

“I’m your little whore!” Çankaya Escort Bayan She blubbered words I never thought I’d hear her say, “You’re my master! I’m you fucking faggot slave!”

“So fucking easy.” I snarled, and licked her face, “Such a tasty little slut!”

I ripped her head back, forcing her body into a deep arch beneath me. As her cock waggled between us, and she squealed with each of our thrusts, I took two handfuls of her breasts, and squeezed until my fingers disappeared. She cried out in masochistic glee, and I wrapped my mouth around one of her nipples, and sucked it fiercely. She balled her hands into the sheets at her sides and thrashed beneath me, keeping her chest elevated so that I could teeth and suckle, my slobber wetting her bronze domes, my avaricious mouth wantonly consuming the stiff nipples until they were swollen and red. All the while, I pounded into her clenching shithole, burying my thick shaft so deep that I could feel the texture inside her change, fucking her so ferociously that her pliant innards became molded to the shape of my cock.

But I was going to easy on her. Even as I squished her tits together and gluttonously mouthed from her tortured nipples, even as I railed into her with such force that my balls rebounded off her ass like rubber, I could feel her lewd body adapting, her fluid sexuality taking shape to fit this moment, to indulge in it without care, to take control of it. She turned my violence into sensuality; she wrapped her legs around my waist to guide my violent thrusts, she knitted her fingers into my hair to beckon my consumption of her, and she moaned and gasped with a marvelous smile across her face, her eyes closed in hedonistic splendor. No, no, no! I wouldn’t have it! With her legs securely wrapped around my waist, I picked her up by the hips, elevated her ass above her head, and began to fuck her straight into the bed like a hammer driving a nail into the mattress. The contours of her athletic abdomen compressed into little rolls of fat, her beautiful breasts squished against her chin, and her pathetic stiff cock waggled in line with her face, the expression of which was now contorted into one of ecstatic shock, her eyes wide, her mouth gaping to expel submissive little squeals. Exquisite. I detached her legs from their lock around my waist, and spread them out into lateral splits, giving me unfettered access to drive down, down, down, into her most vile depths, pillaging her colon, opening her sphincters like fleshy cuffs that coiled around my violating shaft. Her voice carried out higher and higher, her eyes bulged wider and wider, her body contorted this way and that, shifting violently to the ecstasy that lanced up her spine, causing it to bow and bend to squish her ass into my pummeling pelvis, to take me deeper, deeper, deeper, oh god!

“I’m-coming- I’m-coming- I’m-coming- I’m-coming!” She sobbed. Her rectal muscles squeezed around me, sucking me further into her, gripping me as I exited and opening as I entered. She prolapsed with every retreat, her ruined sheath bulging in a glistening pink sleeve about her gaping anus, then plunging back into her over and over, stretching with my reaming member until it was flat and smooth against her muscled walls. I grabbed her wagging cock and jerked it furiously with my thrusts, lubing my strokes with the string of cum that I milked from her convulsing prostate. She wailed and cried out, thrashing in a tantrum of euphoria, twisting and writhing as I drove her head into the mattress through her body.

“Come in your own face, you fucking faggot!” I snarled into her sobbing visage, my drives becoming harder and harder, faster and faster, our impacts becoming so violent that they rippled down the fat of Elena’s legs. She kicked wildly in the air as she squealed and cried, her compressed belly rotating violently, her body firing back against my piston thrusts that sent her eyes rolling back and her tongue lolling from her mouth. Ecstasy shot through my loins, exploded from my balls, and lanced down my throbbing cock. With a guttural growl, I filled her ruined fuck-hole with gouts after gouts of semen, spilling over from the seal of my cock so that my residual thrusts squelched. So violent were my emissions that my legs quaked, and so great was my pleasure that I had to hold myself against her outstretched thighs lest I pitch forward. Elena came with me, screaming and sobbing in the primal throes of her anal orgasm. Her insides churned with spasms as her cock curved backward with engorgement, then exploded from its tip.

Jets of white fluid splattered Elena Straltaira’s beautiful face, glazing her hair, eyes, nose and lips, hanging from her chin in bubbly ropes. She mindlessly held out her tongue to taste her own nectar, and I milked it fiercely into her mouth, lowering her pelvis with each climactic thrust until she was bent nearly in half. I fell forward, caught myself on one hand, and carried poor Elena’s hips all the way forward. She was a flexible creature, and with the assistance of my weight atop her, her spurting cock depressed toward her mouth until she could finally wrap her lips around the head, and drink from the source.

That was how we finished, and as the manic catharsis left us and sanity returned to our minds, I became aware of the comedy of our position.

“Having fun?” I giggled breathily at Elena, her face covered in her own come, her mouth wrapped around her own cock.

She nodded cutely, and continued to suck herself.

“Men have been trying to do that since the dawn of time. If they were as flexible as women, we’d all be doomed.”

Elena grinned around her head, and let it plop from her mouth. “It feels more like sucking a dick than actually getting my dick sucked. Fortunately for me, I enjoy both.”

“I’d like to tie you up in this position and leave you for a few hours.” I grinned sardonically, and wrapped her legs around the back of her head, “I’d hang you from the ceiling like a decoration, and milk you whenever I’m bored.”

“I’ve got an opening next Tuesday.”

“I’m not joking, Elena.”

“I’m not either.”

“Oh my god, I love you.”

She beamed back at me; the expression radiant on her desecrated face. “I love you too.”

I sighed, and slowly pulled my cock out of her ass. She whimpered out an objection and clenched around me, trying to keep me comfortably trapped in her tight hot channel, but I resisted the temptation. With a wet squelch, I pulled my cock free from Elena, and took a moment to admire my work. Her anus was a swollen pink ruin, the hole plugged with the coalescence of glistening rectal flesh. It looked delicious. I smiled deviously up at Elena, whose ankles were still locked behind her head, leaving her completely vulnerable. She watched me with an expectant smile. How could I deny that cute little face? She’d earned herself a treat. For that matter, so had I.

I wrapped my lips around her budding rectum, and sucked the protrusion into my mouth. As Elena moaned and groaned behind a lip-biting smile, I traversed her anal folds with my dexterous little tongue, cleaning my nectarous cum from her, and swallowing it. When I was done indulging in my own meal, I gave Elena’s prolapsed bud a push with my tongue, and sent it back down into her depths. From there, I traversed the space between her gaping anus and her tight pussy, then licked through her vaginal folds, and plunged my tongue inside. I gauged her reaction from behind her twitching cock, studying every minute change of her features until I found the combination upon her ceiling that sent her into a shuddering orgasm. It was a gentle climax, more of an appetizer for what was to come, but before I got to that, I would suck this cock that I missed oh-so much.

I forked both my hands into split fingers, and penetrated her two holes as I drew my tongue flat against her base, and licked my way to her tip. Once there, I looked into her sapphire eyes, wrapped my lips about her head, and took her all the way in. As much as I enjoyed Elena’s mouth upon me, I enjoyed pleasing her even more. I was an expert lover in almost all forms of lust, but I was born to suck dick, and the expressions that crossed Elena’s face when I took her into my mouth and embraced her with my tongue confirmed that I was as good as ever. She groaned and whined in her compromised position, her body wriggling in its self-containment, completely at my mercy. She could squirm free anytime she wanted to, but she didn’t want to, and I loved her for it. I fucked her slowly and sensually with my fingers, and I worshipped her beautiful cock with my lips, tongue and throat; generously coating every inch of her, sucking with a pillowing hold that drew all sensation to the ring of suction, swallowing with kneading muscles that massaged her into me. She came a second time, her cock drooling without pressure onto my tongue. As she hissed and sputtered, I collected all of her delicious nectar, then released her, and kissed her. We past the depraved concoction of fluids between our smiling mouths, and I dirtied my face with the cream that already painted hers. I broke from the kiss to lap the fluids from her nose and cheeks before it dried and crusted, then I unlocked her ankles from behind her head, and eased her legs behind me.

“Wait.” Elena whispered, and put her hand on my chest. She gently guided me upright into a kneeling position, and followed after until we were level, pressed front to front. She reached behind me, unclasped the strap between my shoulders, then peeled the leather bondage from my back. My breasts and abdomen were freed from their constraints, leaving red marks where the straps had held me. Elena then pushed the fishnet stockings to my knees, and I sat backward so that she could slide them off each individual leg. Now completely naked, Elena took the opportunity to suck each of my toes before she lathered my ankles, calves, and thighs with her tongue on a path to my rigid cock. She drew her nose along its length, and inhaled deeply. “Oh, it’s so dirty…” she purred, “I can’t let you put this in my clean little pussy.”

She licked me from base to tip, and let the drool cascade onto my pulsating head. “Delicious…” she hissed, smacking her lips, “call me self-indulgent, but I do so love the taste of my own asshole.” And with that, she took me all the way in once more. The dynamic between us had changed again. Now her heterosexual female side took charge, and she feasted upon me with gluttonous sensuality, drawing her lips up and down my length with slow, purposeful motions. She didn’t finish me to completion; only to the point of frustration, but I wasn’t compelled to force her. She smiled and hummed when I fidgeted and whined for her, then she withdrew with a pop of her lips, and circled the crease with her tongue. Her expression suddenly changed. The playfulness left her eyes, and something uneasy settled into their blue depths. She seemed to contemplate me as she licked my swollen head, then she ceased her meal completely, and looked at my cock like it was something foreign to her.

“What?” I whispered.

“If you come inside me, I’ll get pregnant, won’t I?”

“Yes, but I know a spell to fix it.”

She puzzled over that for a moment, then cocked her head, and narrowed her blue eyes at me. “What if I don’t want you to?”

I laughed. “I’d say you should put more thought into it than that.”

“My best decisions were impulsive. It’s when I overthink things that I fuck up.” Elena said softly, and gazed at my shaft with a strange interest. It was a sexual gaze, yes, but it was a deeper kind of sexuality than simple carnality. Her eyes traversed its length until they settled upon my balls, and she stared at them for a long, long time. “Will you help me raise her?” she whispered.

“You don’t want me to.”

“I do.”

“I’d be a terrible parent.”

“You haven’t even tried.”

“I’m three months pregnant with Dreus’s bastard, and I’m already planning on abandoning this thing the moment it comes out of me.”

She looked up at me, “I want this, Leveria. If you don’t want this, you don’t have to be part of it.”

I scoffed. “There you go again, weaponizing my love.”

She smiled coyly. “It’s your only weakness now.”

I framed her face with my hands. “Elena, I will ruin that child if you let me near it.”

“We both will.” She whispered, “Leveria, I’ve been fucking my own mother for months. You fucked your dad for years. Neither of us have a good handle on parenting. I won’t be able to resist tasting the forbidden fruit when it begins to ripen.” She began planting kisses down my shaft, then rested her mouth against my balls, “The forbidden fruit is always the sweetest. Let me give our daughter a goodnight kiss.”

She wrapped her lips around my balls, and sucked them sensually into her mouth once more. Her tongue swirled around each throbbing orb with delicate caresses, and the insides of her cheeks pillowed lovingly against the thin tender flesh. I melted between her lips like butter, and groaned as she drew the loose flesh taut, and lathered my organs until my cock twitched with her every motion.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, pulling her head back and smiling as her lips pursed around each nut before they plopped free, “my baby-girl tastes so good.”

“You’re so fucked up.”

“High praise coming from you.” Elena giggled, and began to crawl up my body, “I don’t even know how fucked up I am yet. You’ve freed me from my oaths and responsibilities, and set me loose in a virgin kingdom that needs a good fucking.” She opened her thighs about my shaft, and slid her pussy up it, smearing her juices as she licked her way up my belly, between my breasts, and along my throat, “Maybe I’m even more fucked up than you, Leveria,” she whispered in my ear, “maybe you should’ve killed me when you had the chance. Now you’re all mine.” She poured her tongue into my ear, and I bowed my neck and whimpered.

“Yes!” I gasped, “I’m all yours! Yours forever!”

“Mmmm, you’ll do anything I want, won’t you?” She gnawed on my lobe, and kneaded her fingers into my breasts, “You will, because you know I’ll do it all. I’ll be your little faggot slave, I’ll be your doting romantic, I’ll be your overbearing husband, and I’ll be your passionate lover. I’ll be anything you want me to be, whenever you want me to be it. I’m yours, and you’re mine.” Her delicate fingers caressed my throbbing cock, and she groaned huskily, “You came twice already, and you’re still so hard for me! What a man you are, Leveria; much more than I ever was.” Her voice became barely a whisper, “But you’ve never had a woman like me.”

She took me into her. Tight wet heat surrounded me, squeezing muscles encased me, sucking lips wrapped me and pulled me in. My breath was taken from me, and she took what was left with a kiss upon my lips. Her body molded to mine curve for curve, and her legs clamped down around my hips to take me deeper. She hissed and groaned in my ear as she consumed me, then whined in distress as the last inches of me entered her, and my tip found her bottom. For a moment, she held me in there, rolling her muscles up my length, squeezing the pressure in my shaft until I couldn’t bear it. Then, she began to grind on me.

Never in my life had I experienced this side of Elena, this sinuous, passionate creature who dominated with sensuality. It wasn’t that she made me submit to her; she simply took the lead, and I simply followed. I didn’t have a choice at all. Her hips rolled behind her, stirring me into her, wrapping her tight membranous lips around the base of my shaft and pulling me in. Her spine undulated like an eel, moving with such graceful waves that I was compelled to move with them, to match her curve for curve, to fuck like a woman and thrust like a man. I plunged into her at the end of each bodily wave, and she came down hard to meet me, the impact reverberating in our bodies, but she didn’t bounce off it, no; she ground down with each drive, danced around my pole, and purred in my ear like a jungle cat, and I was her downed prey. One of her hands moved down to my ass to guide my thrusts, and the other slid behind my head to guide our mouths together. She kissed me like she’d never kissed me before. There were no shades to her sexuality now, but a single flavor of passion, a lust that was seeped in such sensualism that its victim could do naught but drown in it. I kissed her back like a man, and she smiled around my mouth, and subdued me with her tongue.

Just give in to me, baby. Her husky telepathic voice echoed in my head.

You’re a vampire too?

I am, but we’ll save this treat for a rainy day. Elena ended our kiss with her teeth around my lower lip, and she stretched it back with a smirk. Then I’ll suck you dry, but for now, just let go. No more power games. Savor this.

She pulled me upright, and wrapped her legs around my waist. She didn’t break the pattern of our undulations for even a second, and when she rose at the peak of our wave, she dragged my face down to her breasts, and beckoned me to nurse from her. I wrapped my mouth around her left nipple, and sucked sensually, drawing from her with deep pulls, burying my muzzle in the pliant mammary fat. She held my head against her and moaned as my tongue circled her throbbing node, her voice low and husky, seeped in delectable passion. Her glutes squished against my crotch, forming a warm pillowing seal as her hot slit stretched around me and consumed me, the tight lips drooling onto my roiling balls.

“Put your fingers in my ass,” she commanded softly, and I did. I slid my hand between her bulging cheeks, pressed three fingers into her loosened aperture, and curled them until they disappeared into her hot rectum. Her breath fluttered out of her, but she did not react violently as she had before. Our rhythm never broke, and we stayed trapped in our heaving oscillations, our cadence marked by the squelching sounds of our impacts. I pressed my fingers against my cock through the membrane that divided her holes, and she crooned in pleasure. Her responsive body shuddered when I rubbed alongside her division, and her stiff member stabbed me pleasantly in the belly, drawing a trail of spent cum down it.

“I’m so close, Leveria,” she whispered, her voice tight and high, “don’t fucking stop!”

The rotation of her hips deepened, each motion becoming more desperate, driven by the hunger in her nethers that caused her sucking lips to salivate down my shaft and smear my flesh with her lust. I drove in contest with her, drinking from her breast, heaving our bodies together. Our bronze flesh glistened with exertion, making our contact slick and hot, mingling our fluids so that our bodies could slide against each other. Our breath was heavy and exerted, each exhalation comingling with a stressed and ecstatic moan. It wasn’t the kind of violent pleasure that produced screams and wails, but a steady swell, something that took time and effort, something that took the skill and patience of true lovers. It rose gradually within us, breaching all the heights we’d reached before, creating a tension that wound and wound and wound, tighter and tighter until I couldn’t stand it anymore! But even though we were tormented by this building ecstasy, our bodies still drove with long torpid motions, the passion only increasing by the force with which we pressed, and not the speed. My hair was matted to my face, and so was hers, and when I released her abused nipples from my mouth, her panting lips were there to meet mine, to join our tongues, to speak in ways that words could not express. With a final heave, we ascended together, and locked our arms and legs in a moment of pure euphoria. Our bodies went rigid, our minds vanished, and we became naught but the singular sensation of our joining, unaware of where one person ended and the other began. My insides surged into her, and she took them deep; opening, loving, and accepting all the poison I expelled. We stayed there for an eternal second, then descended.

We wilted like dying roses upon the bed. I fell atop her, and she took my weight, and snaked her fingers through my hair. Our lips separated so that we could breathe into each other’s mouths, and we locked eyes through the duration of our decelerating lust. When our sanity came back to us, we kissed tenderly, then separated. Elena hooked her hands beneath her knees and raised her pelvis, and I put my hands under her buttocks to assist her. I gazed into her beautiful rose depths, now splayed open with abuse, and I watched my seed pool into the bottom of her dark well, and slowly soak into her fertile ground.

“What will you name her?” I whispered.

“I don’t know,” she answered, “it doesn’t matter now.”

“No?”

“No,” she smiled, and beckoned me into her arms. I crawled into her embrace, and snuggled into her bosom. She raked her fingers through my mane, and murmured sweet little things into my receptive ear. As the spring night air cooled our sweaty bodies, I marveled at how much I had missed moments like these. These intimate moments of comfort were more precious than all the kingdoms and soldiers in the world. Perhaps I was the most powerful being alive, but even I needed someone to be the big spoon.

“I missed you so much.” I whispered against Elena’s breast.

“I missed you too,” she muttered. She seemed like she had something else to say, but she didn’t voice it.

“But…?”

“You know I’ll be going back to Bentius tomorrow. It’s Yavara’s coronation. I’ll be staying there at least half the time.”

“I’m going with you.”

She snorted.

“I am!” I insisted, “Yavara and I had a deal.”

“She told me. She also told me she ripped up that deal.”

“Oh, she was just having a fit.” I waved my hand dismissively, “She just needed some space was all. She needs some time to except what’s going to happen.”

“She may never.”

“She will soon.” I smiled up at Elena, “My little sister is boneheaded, but she’s much more adaptable than you.” I patted the space on Elena’s other side, “Someday, she’ll be sleeping right there.”

Elena raised her brows. “You really think that, don’t you?”

I grinned deviously. “I know it.”

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