Ay: Ağustos 2024

Conceal Me What I Am Ch. 14

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Asian

Never let anyone misinform you that ‘violence never solves anything!’ Violence solves a great many problems, especially when there are hundreds of people in your way all armed to the teeth with firearms and the willingness to use them upon you. Gleefully, and with all of the ammunition they can carry!

I had to admit that the road block in front of us at Elk Mountain looked scary, but looks can occasionally be deceiving. They had arrayed lots of heavy armor units out in front and spread out to keep us from flanking, but not much defense in depth and not nearly enough infantry in front of them to offer much protection from our superior range advantage. I let Miranda snipe the field clean for us, and seeing that not much of anything was in reserve behind them in town, I just floored the ‘Prissy Pig’, our nominated name for our battle tested veteran and told the gals to keep their heads down, and they mostly did. Janice picked up some more scratches from wildly shrapnel but nothing she couldn’t deal with and she remained at her post. Frankly, none of us considered any of our other refugees of much use, especially for gunnery replacements.

The five captives had had it hard since their capture… and not just in the breeding pit either. They collectively flinched at every loud sound and they remained constantly huddled together for moral comfort. Each had been a witch or Adept back home. Four of the ladies were US witches and the other gal was a GWA Adept from California, caught nearly right from the start of her military service a few months ago. They’d all been on drugs for some time to eliminate their ability to use magic and none of them were even remotely up to scratch yet, let along capable of helping out in a magical fight. The stress of our long running battle while escaping hadn’t helped their nerves one little bit either. Miranda made a token effort to encourage the gals to become a little more helpful but soon gave it up as a lost cause. They were too stressed, too cold, too hungry and too frightened to now do anything other than complain. Even Bel and Janice were about on their last nerves now too and were shivering uncontrollably from the cold mountain air in just their single blankets. Only Miranda was close to fully dressed, with my mangled and shredded suit just barely holding together as well. Spare clothing for our other females continued to evade our quick searching efforts and they remained naked underneath their blankets.

When we stopped to replace power cells about 20 miles out of Laramie, Bel realized that her lover Janice had stopped shivering entirely, and this was bad. Second stage hypothermia had kicked in from being naked except for a single blanket for the last thirty-six hours of so. A quick check of Bel indicated that she wasn’t really doing that much better either and her teeth were chattering now so much that it was hard to understand anything she was saying.

Miranda, ever now the dependable one of our trio, slammed down her gunner’s helmet and armor rig and laid down the law to her elders. Both Bel and Janice were to join the other five ladies in their wrap of blankets, huddling together underneath for warmth. Through hell or high water, Miranda was determined that she would man that center chain gun alone and all by herself shoot our way through the main battle line at the front.

Bold and scary stuff, but amazingly it wasn’t quite necessary. The actual final advance through Laramie and across into US lines was almost anticlimactic. There were no further roadblocks and the grav-levitation propulsion of our ‘Prissy Pig’ made crossing a couple of miles of open mine fields almost trivial. The local Deseret infantry here was fairly loosely scattered with defensive in depth and for the most part they assumed our BattleCar was ‘theirs’ and almost none of them actually fired at us.

As for the US front lines, if we actually had been the enemy we could have routed several companies at minimum. The dispirited US troops would fire a bullet round or two at us and then throw down their weapons and either try to surrender or else just run. If anything, it was worse than that old joke about the British Army — 100,000 rifles for sale, never been fired and only dropped once!

Now within friendly lines, more or less, this was no time to suffer any unfortunate accidents. I told Miranda keep her head down even more and not make any grand sweeping movements with her chain gun to avoid provoking any more incoming small arms fire. By the time we reached the rear of the friendly lines the US soldiers had mostly stopped shooting at us at all and when we drove up right into the middle of their battalion HQ it was disconcerting and severely depressing just how quickly everyone surrounded to the ‘Prissy Pig’ and one lone seventeen year old girl and her big plasma chain gun.

The Deseret R&D officers had been spot-on right. Even a dozen of these BattleCars at the very point of an offensive could and would have cleared out all resistance in hours, and in time (and with enough ArcCell batteries) Fulya travesti would have swept the entire US army all the way to the Mississippi River. By stealing their only prototype, perhaps this forthcoming spring offensive would be delayed and I now had to hope that with some forewarning that at least one US general could take this new threat seriously and prepare for it.

The light colonel commanding this particular battalion of infantry was certainly not a suitable candidate. As the Pig pulled up to a halt right in front of the HQ he and his officers came out to greet us with their hands up and eager to surrender. Miranda was just pissed off enough at the lot of them that she ran the laser sight back and forth across their chests and muttered (mostly) under her breath about how she wanted to purge the army of this lot of cowards and do everyone a favor.

“What are your terms for honorable surrender?” The Lt. Colonel asked, who was getting increasing nervous at staring down the barrel of Miranda’s chain gun. I was struggling to get out of my driver’s seat harness and climb up to talk, but my young assistant was doing just fine on her own. The only thing she needed for her rough image was a cigar to chomp upon.

“For starters you craven worms, you can show some proper military respect for the great GWA wizard from the Republic of Texas, the Zyphyr, and commander of this BattleCar. So get on your knees you cowardly swine and show some deference to your betters!” She barked, and they most certainly did. By the time I made up top to look down upon our ‘captives’, the colonel and his staff were quite upon their knees and giving me an entirely adequate bow. In just my mangled and scorched old suit I probably didn’t look much like a great GWA wizard, until I climbed up upon the front bonnet of the BattleCar and gave the lily-livered officers a good look at my Texas cowboy boots.

“You can rise gentlemen and stand at ease. We’re allies remember? First of all, let’s try to avoid any more confusion in your ranks. Your men at front lines are running like frightened deer and at least three companies of troops have left their forward positions. Please go fix that minor problem now before the Deseret fucktards realize your position has been left wide open.” The colonel turned pale and nodded at a major kneeling next to him to go off and rally up the retreating troops. He’d need a horsewhip to do it and if it were my battalion, I’d be replacing a few lieutenants and captains shortly afterwards.

“Next,” I added, once I had the Battalion commander’s attention again. “I need you to get me down that US flag flying over your command tent and hand it over to my lovely and rather trigger happy assistant. People keep shooting at us and us Texas folks find that a mighty unfriendly act. With a flag, maybe your undisciplined troops might think twice the next time. Then I need directions to your nearest medical facility, I’ve got some rescued young ladies of quality that have been out in cold for much too long that need hot food and some even hotter baths. Oh, and a couple of cigars and bottle of something stimulating would also do, if you can manage those!” He could. The whisky was Canadian but entirely adequate and I let Miranda have a swig (and one of the cigars) and I took two swigs before leaving the rest to Sean.

One of the staff captains climbed on-board and after having a nice gawk at our bevy of disturbingly under-clad female cargo, directed us around to the back side of a nearby hill where the local hospital tents had been set up. Chomping our stogies for dramatic effect, Miranda and I discharged our half-frozen ladies into the hands of some Army nurses only to discover that hardly a drop of hot water was available at all!

My first thought was to just find a few 55-gallon drums of water and using a little fire magic warm them right up, but not even any of these were immediately available. The unit was getting their water from a local river, and probably also the start of cholera or some other foul water disease soon. I knew the US was backwards, but this was disgraceful!

I still hadn’t worked out of my system even half of the rage I’d felt yesterday and I decided it was time for the ‘Great and Terrible Zyphyr’ to publically express his anger and might. The Army doctor in charge of this field hospital didn’t seem to realize just how pissed I was with him at not having a proper and secure water supply and the rest of these Army idiots didn’t seem to be nearly afraid enough of me enough to leap and obey my instructions, but this could be easily corrected.

“Major,” I snapped to the chief medical officer, “is this open field to the north of the hospital of any particular importance? If not, I’m going to adjust it to better suit our present needs, so get everyone clear of this area now!” This wasn’t really a polite request.

If you’re going to go through the time and trouble of scaring the piss out of people just to get their attention properly, you might as well make it memorable Fulya travestileri enough so that a repeat demonstration later on isn’t necessary. In this case, I had a little bit of everything I magically needed relatively close at hand, so I could afford to be subtle, and perform a little stage presentation.

“Behold! Now let the earth now bend to my will!” I cried, with a bit of an evil magician ‘mwuhahaha!’ thrown in just for the creepy effect. Down about a thousand yards deep into the earth there was a lovely geothermal pocket with some lovely hot water just ready to come bubbling to the surface to bath my ladies. Well, after I’d created a suitable pond to contain it. With far more dramatic hand waving than was necessary, the earth moved and shaped itself to suit the new hot water lake that would soon fill it and if the vast earth-moving wasn’t enough to impress everyone, the water ballet that followed certainly did the trick.

Grunting with unnecessary strain, I lifted my arms high and shouted upon the heavens “Bring forth the boiling waters from the depths of the earth!” And they came. The water was a bit too mineral over-rich for tasty drinking, with a bit too much sulfur, but it would soon be just right for bathing purposes.

I gave the chief medical officer a pointed glare and then turned my baleful glare against the head nurse, who did look quite properly terrified.

“Soup’s up!” I calmly stated. “Now I assume I won’t hear anything more about no hot water being available. Are there any other minor issues that would prevent those seven women from being in a hot bath within the next five minutes? No? Good… I didn’t think so. Now you will let me know if you have any more little problems that you can’t resolve on your own, won’t you?” The head nurse was already fleeing away from me and shouting order to her staff. Bel, Janice and the others were in big canvas portable bathtubs soaking in steaming hot water in well under my five minute deadline, and orderlies were being given instructions to find each of them clean warm clothes for later.

Since my bullying presence wasn’t needed around the hospital for awhile, Miranda and I decided that it was time to give the mess hall staff a crack at my displeasure and we trotted over to see if we could get an early hot lunch. Word of our arrival had already spread and no one even thought about giving us any lip service, but we never got to enjoy a bite of the hot chow. Our disruption of the US front lines had been finally noticed by the Deseret field commanders and the nearly empty salient was now being filled by Deseret infantry.

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

We drove the Pig back to Battalion HQ and quickly got an update on the situation. The three companies that had fled and retreated from the line at the sight of the BattleCar were only now just halting and getting reorganized for a return to their trenches. Two flanking US companies were trying to delay the advance of a brigade sized force of Deseret infantry, but had poor expectations of being able to do so for long. No immediate reports of armor, but that could change at any moment. We’d done a decent job the last two days at disrupting the reserve enemy forces behind the lines and it was likely that no overwhelming force could be gathered anytime soon to exploit this salient. Especially if Miranda and I could park the Pig right smack at the sharp end of the assault once more and break up their advance.

Miranda was game for anything, and reluctantly putting aside her chewed up cigar she donned her gunner’s helmet and protective gear once more, but we now needed two new gunners. The staff officer captain who had been assisting us agreed to take over one gun and he called over for one of his lieutenants to man the other one. I switched out our very last fully charged ArcCell power module while Miranda give the officers a quick instruction of the workings and reloading of the plasma chain guns. This was way more firepower at their fingertips than they’d ever been trained to handle but they caught on fast. With the laser guidance system for aiming, it was close to idiot proof (even for a pair of US officers), and all they had to do was aim and shoot… and keep their damned fingers off of the ‘Full Auto’ switch.

For good measure we grabbed a pair of loitering NCO’s to join us to help hump ammo to the gunners. We still had a half-dozen full ammo cases of silver left and lots of Deseret bad guys heading our way.

The formerly retreating US companies were supposed to be now following us in support, but they quickly got left behind and lost to sight in the tree covered hills. The Pig was performing much better now that she wasn’t operating dangerously overweight and was handling the uneven ground and small brush and forested landscape of eastern Wyoming with little complaint. Maybe the Deseret ArcTec engineers knew what they were doing after all.

Our new pair of gunners caught on quickly, and within three minutes of heading back west from the Battalion HQ we starting to encounter Travesti fulya the advance elements of the enemy infantry force. The braver ones got blasted into oblivion by the squad-full, as the superheated magical plasma turned thick tree and ground cover into instant explosive shrapnel that shredded everyone for dozens of yards around. Neither officer had the aptitude for exuberant wholesale destruction that Miranda had, but both caught on quickly to the demands of their on the job training and upheld their honor. Behind us in our wake we left a trail of destruction that no one could possibly miss, a half-mile or wider trough of wreckage, of shattered trees, smoking craters in the earth and acres of seared and obliterated flesh.

We had one bad moment about thirty minutes into the battle when the Pig started to hiccup while beginning to drain the last reserves of juice from her final charged ArcCell but I was in no mood to stop our advance. Yanking out the drained power module, I trusted to desperation and shoved the fingers of my right hand right into the empty module slot and willed my magic to flow into it. Without even thinking about it, my artifact on right hand began to extrude the left-over silver that I had not fired off a pellets in the battle with the Wizard of the 2nd Circle, and once again it flowed like liquid quicksilver to make a better connection to the circuitry. Without asking, my weird right arm with its peculiar Inca artifact melded right into the power circuitry and seemed to know just what needed to be done.

This was serious creepy, but darned if it didn’t work! The Prissy Pig was once again good to go, and just in time we rejoined the battle and became once again the spearhead of our advance. Not only had we reclaimed the lost ground, but we were advancing well into Deseret held ground now, reclaiming in minute’s territory the US had lost the previous year.

Miranda calmly wasted a trio of scout flyvers that each coasted a bit too eagerly above the next hill rise. A company of a dozen light tanks was hunkering down into cover in the forest behind them and my trio of gunners made light work of them, and the six heavies on the next hill behind them. I’m not sure if it was my voice that was laughing at the destruction around us or if it was Miranda… or if we were both laughing together at the carnage.

At the western edge of the forest about ten miles on the old Deseret side of the former front lines, a ridge with a reinforced concrete bunker and heavy gun emplacement rather suddenly gave us all of the opposition we could handle. A direct hit from their big 107mm anti-tank gun probably would have put us out of action, and one glancing round quite obliterated about half of our left crystalline shielding and over 65% of our left gunnery officer, the unfortunate lieutenant, not to mention spraying Miranda with vaporized bone fragments and blood. Another near miss just over our heads obliterated a huge fur tree and turned it into a hail of sharp wooden shrapnel, seriously wounding then in turn the captain, and giving Miranda a couple more slight wounds. For just a moment she was a normal frightened seventeen year old girl once more, but she set her jaw and began conducting some savage paybacks while I shoved the Pig into reverse to back us up behind some cover. Two more near misses dinged up our front grav-skirts, but we limped out of observation range to lick our wounds. Those anti-tank gunners were good and much too accurate for my taste!

Our two NCO’s scrapped up what was left of their lietenant and casually chucked the remaining bottom leg parts of him over the side and applied a tourniquet to the badly wounded captain. The left side chain gun mount was twisted but the weapon was still serviceable, and stoutly the pair of Sergeants readied themselves to take charge of the weapons. We were way out in front of our infantry support, by maybe five miles or so, and a tiny little voice of reason was now knocking inside of my skull wanting to be heard. For once I listened to it.

“Miranda, we’ve won the US a nice little victory with our counter-attack and we didn’t sign on for this… and we are definitely not getting paid for this sort of fun either. Let’s call it a day and leave those bastards in the big bunker for the ground boys to sort out.”

“Fuck that shit.” She snarled. “I want to waste those fuckers! That could have been Bel or Janice on those two guns! If you can figure out how to use those two front mounted rocket tubes, we could blow that fast bunker before they get us sighted in again.”

We sure could… except that in two separate bouts of fiddling, I couldn’t figure out how they worked. They weren’t chain guns or other automatic weapons powered externally by the Pig and I hadn’t found anything like conventional ammo shells or rockets that would fit inside. Miranda delegated the problem to our NCO’s and like good problem solvers they figured out what was wrong. The larger breech-loaded tubes only fired a single shot at a time, but had a similar but larger feed system that turned a larger hunk of silver into plasma blasted down the bigger 4cm bores of the pair of front loaded launchers. With a little searching around we found a small box full of individual quart-sized sacks that would each hold two big handfuls of normal silver ball ammo.

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Candy Dancers

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Babes

I’ve been on the move since I was 18 riding the rails from place to place. The only good thing about my life style are all the great blow jobs I receive from hobos.

Young and old hobos have nursed my cock and been rewarded with a warm load of protein. How did I get here, you might ask.

I’m Tommy Harmon from a small place called the Village of Gahanna, Ohio. I was born at the Ohio State University Hospital in Columbus, Ohio in 1941. My mother was a mere 16. I never knew my father. My mother died when I was 13, and I bummed around with a few friends and relatives till 1959, when I hit the road for good.

I had started hanging out with Gandy Dancers near Blacklick, Ohio about seven miles from Gahanna. I originally met them in the Skyway Tavern in a small community called Wonderland about four miles from Blacklick. They came to the Skyway Tavern seeking revenge for a comrade that had been beaten up by a Wonderland tough named Johnny Johnson. They had walked the four miles to Wonderland only to find Johnny Johnson had beaten a retreat and was nowhere to be found.

Their work was finished in Blacklick and would soon be leaving. When they hit the rails, I followed them.

The Gandy Dancer’s next railroad job was in Sheboygan Falls, Wisconsin. I had never been out of Ohio so leaving with them was an adventure.

I received my first blow job in a boxcar somewhere in Northwestern Ohio. The Gandy Dancers knew most of the hobos, and which ones were good cocksuckers, and ones that were great fucks.

The uzunköprü escort Gandy Dancers for the most part were not homosexuals, but often got blow jobs from hobos, and would occasionally fuck them.

The Gandy Dancers were very much like Eastern European Gypsies, I would later find out. They were friendly, fun loving, and hard fighting men. They were also hard workers. That is why the Railroads used them for work on the rail lines.

They preferred wine to whiskey and that suited me as well. Wine and cheese, was the preferred meal. I had to develop a taste for cheese. Especially goat cheese.

Somewhere in Indiana or Illinois I fucked my first man. Like my first blow job it was in a boxcar. I fucked a hobo, but had to jerk him off first. He kept telling me how beautiful his daughters were, like I believed he had daughters. But blowing my spunk deep in that old man’s bowels, gave me a very perverse thrill.

I had developed kind of a bond with a Gandy Dancer named Rollie. Never knew his last name. He was like an advisor and father confessor all in one. He taught he how to hop a moving train and steal food. Both of which were essential to the Gandy Dancer lifestyle.

When we arrived in Wisconsin, I was surprised at how beautiful the countryside was. There were many lakes and ponds all teaming with fish. I found out Gandy Dancers had an affinity for yellow perch that were easily caught, and roasting them over an open fire provided a feast.

With stolen beer, and van escort French bread we ate like kings, albeit kings of the road.

Sheboygan Falls was a small town near the larger city of Sheboygan north of Milwaukee. There was a Pennsylvania Railroad yard that need extensive track repair between the towns. Thus, the Gandy Dancers were on hand with Tommy Harmon in tow.

We established a camp on a beach near Lake Michigan. Each day we would work at the railroad yard and party at night on the beach. Rollie and I slept in a Lean To designed by Rollie and built by the two of us. The evenings were cool so a roaring fire was maintained just outside the Lean to.

One night, I woke up feeling Rollie’s heavy breath on my neck. We were in a spooning position and I heard him utter, “I need to fuck you, Tommy.”

A cold chill ran through my entire body, as I wondered if I had heard him right.

I knew I had, when I felt Rollie’s hard cock poking my ass cheeks.

Rollie’s hand was pulling my pants down, and as I wore no underwear, my bare ass was exposed to his probing hard cock.

His pointed cock found the opening to my anus and insertion began. I felt a searing pain as my sphincter muscle gave way and entry was made. The incredible pain eased when contact with my prostate was made. A warm wonderful feeling replaced the pain, as Rollie’s Cock dug deeper in my bowels. I realized my cock was hard as a rock, and I began stroking it.

Once Rollie was balls to the wall, he began fucking varto escort me. Slowly at first, and then building up speed until he was slam fucking me. I was stroking my cock as hard as I could. We were both moaning so loud, we could wake up the dead.

It was a tossup who was enjoying it more, Rollie or me.

Then with a loud grunt and thrust Rollie held as he blasted the walls of my bowels with his hot sticky cum. That sent me over the edge and I blew my load mostly on my chest, but some flew on my face and lips.

I was one well fucked lad.

Then Rollie shocked me to the core. He turned my head around and kissed me on the lips inserting his tongue in my mouth. Soon out tongues were doing a tango.

Before I knew what was happening, we had switched to a sixty-nine position and had each-others cock in our mouths. I had just been fucked and here I was sucking my first cock. The only thought running through my mind was what next? Both cocks had stiffened, and when Rollie’s cock hit the entrance to my throat, I gagged. My cock had slid down Rollie’s throat and he was deep throating me. A trick I would later learn.

When Rollie blew his load in my mouth, I was swallowed as fast as I could to keep from choking to death. Rollie slurped, as he swallowed my load.

I was officially a cocksucker and bottom, but in no way felt queer. I later learned a new word, i. e. bisexual. I liked that better than queer or homo.

I never returned to Ohio except on passing trains. Most work for Gandy Dancers seemed to be on the west coast and I found I liked the California weather. Plus, California had the largest population of cocksuckers, tops and bottoms in the nation. Not a bad place to be.

Oh yes, I liked pussy too, just not a lot around the Gandy camps.

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An Introduction to Debauchery.

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Hardcore

As Rose walked down the busy street, she was acutely aware of the sound of her stiletto heels on the pavement. She walked slowly but confidently letting her mind wander as she thought about what and who would greet her as she walked through the door. The weather had turned colder and she could feel her nipples rub gently on her coat lining. The cold was only part of the reason they were so hard though. All day Rose had been thinking about what would happen that evening. Now she was living her fantasy. She wondered what the people she walked past would think if they knew all she had on under her coat was a quarter cup bra, her boobs spilling beautifully over the top of the lace, a pair of crotchless silk knickers with matching suspender belt and sheer stockings that made her legs look even longer and more incredible than they usually did. Her clit had been throbbing all day and despite her best efforts and her instructions not to touch herself, Rose had needed to gently use her fingers on her soaking pussy as she showered earlier. Finally she arrived at the door. It was black and anonymous. She steadied herself and knocked….

Her knees felt weak and her face flushed as the tall, dark and very handsome man opened the door. Harrison didn’t say a word as he beckoned her inside and helped to remove her coat. She could feel his eyes drinking in every part of her body as he stood behind her, his fingers gently touching her arms as her coat slipped off. Harrison took her hand and led her down a long dark corridor and up a spiral staircase. Her heart began to race with anticipation as she heard the sound of other people talking in the distance. She suddenly felt vulnerable and completely turned on, all at the same time. As if sensing it, he squeezed her hand and pulled her close, kissing her deeply.

“You look stunning,” Harrison whispered into her ear. It was then and there that Rose knew she’d made the right decision to make this fantasy happen tonight.

Harrison’s tongue slid into Rose’s mouth and his fingernails traced the curve of her back and over the silk covering her bottom. Goosebumps covered Rose’s body and she felt that delicious throb between her legs. He pulled away, took her hand again and led her into a large dimly lit room with leather chairs and sofas. Four other beautiful couples sat on chairs talking eagerly whilst sipping champagne from crystal flutes. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she realised one person in each couple had a black blindfold on. The tension in the air was palpable already. In his deep voice, Harrison said, “Can I have your attention please” As everyone looked over, Harrison slid a blindfold on Rose. She heard murmurs of approval as four pairs of eyes drank in her body and the sound of men and women eagerly whispering descriptions of what they could see to their partners. Without knowing why, she turned around so everyone could see all of her body. Slowly she teased them with her curves, modelling her lingerie for the audience. She could feel Harrison lean into her and she smelt his aftershave and his natural musky smell. His hand gently stroked her lower back drifting down over the curve of her bottom and he growled into her ear, “Good girl…”

Rose was led her to a bed, guided down onto soft, silky sheets and felt someone slipping off her black thong. She heard a different voice now, another man. His voice was deep but he talked in a whisper and he was clearly standing or sitting away from the bed, “Use your hands to map her body and tell me what you find. But remember, if you remove your blindfold, you will be punished.” She felt two soft hands roam freely over her and realised it must have been a couple and the woman was exploring her body. She responded to the gentle touches and let out moans each time a fingernail touched a sensitive spot.

The woman who was caressing her said, “I can feel her boobs are bigger than mine and her nipples are hard. They’re getting harder as I play with them between my fingers. I get the impression she likes this and would like my mouth there. To suck and nibble them”.

Without realising she murmured breathlessly, “Yes, please.”

She heard the deep voice from afar again, “Not yet. When we tell you.” Harrison, who had not left her side, was kissing her gently now and whispered in her ear again, “Don’t worry my love, soon you will have as many mouths on your body as you wish.”

She felt the soft hands trace down her belly and around her hips and heard the woman’s voice say quietly, “She has beautiful soft skin, a flat stomach and gorgeously curvaceous hips. I want to feel her ass. Please can I feel her ass?”

More forcefully now, Harrison ordered Rose to turn over and get on all fours, “Show them how perfect you are baby.” As Rose did as she was told, she wondered whose eyes were on her, salivating over her most intimate parts. In an instant she sarıkamış escort felt fingers teasing both of her holes. The delicious sensation made her back arch, she desperately wanted to feel them deep inside her. As if someone had read her mind, she let out gasp of pleasure as she felt a finger slide in her pussy and then softly circle her asshole. She felt the slender finger tease the opening of her ass and could feel how wet the finger already was. Was that her own wetness or had the woman licked her fingers? Whatever happened she knew she needed it deeper. She pushed back a little so the woman behind her got the message and she felt her finger slowly disappear inside her asshole. She let out a longer moan this time as she felt delicate kisses up her spine and heard her voice, “Such a pretty, tight asshole you have. I think we need something to make it a little more lubricated though.”

Rose was aware of others in the room now, standing closer to her and the sound of clothes being removed. She was also aware of another finger beginning to trace along the outside of her pussy. Slow teasing strokes, pushing her lips apart and exposing her pink wet cunt for everyone to see. Harrison whispered to her, “Do you want them to make your asshole wet baby?”

“Yes, yes please,” she gasped dropping her head down so she felt totally exposed and vulnerable. Just when she thought she couldn’t be any more turned on, she felt the unmistakeable sensation of a tongue probing her ass deeply, while another pair of hands removed her bra. Rose was revelling in being the centre of attention and soon someone was sucking eagerly at her dark brown, hard nipples. She mustered the courage to ask, “Can I take the blindfold off now please? I want to choose who fucks me.”

“I think that’s a very good idea,” said Harrison, “But first you have a task.” She could feel him stand up at the end of the bed and heard a zipper being pulled down. Her lips parted and she licked her lips as she knew what was coming. She felt something hard brushing her face, soft skin and the familiar musky smell of his cock. She’d only had this cock three times but they were all so memorable and they’d led her to agreeing to this experience. It was a cock that she wanted in her mouth. Rose knew what Harrison liked and suddenly felt in total control of her situation despite still being blindfolded and still having two mouths on her body and who knows what else happening around her. She took his cock in her mouth and immediately swallowed it deep into her throat. She knew how good she was at this and could already sense this would not take long. He was grunting and his cock was twitching in her mouth. She let it slide out and rubbed her spit all over the thick long hard veiny dick. “Make me cum baby…I want you to swallow everything, then you can take your pick of who you’d like to fuck,” he demanded.

She greedily swallowed his cock again, working her head up and down and let her hand cup his balls. One finger pressed on his asshole, something she’d quickly realised would push him over the edge when they’d fucked before. He started thrusting, fucking her mouth as he was about to explode and she loved looking under her blindfold as the whole of his cock disappeared into her throat. She was proud of what she could do and she heard gasps as the men and women watching looked on in rapturous amazement, no doubt touching themselves and each other while they enjoyed the show. One final push of her finger deeper in his ass and he moaned deep and loud. Rose felt the familiar splash of hot cum pulsing into her mouth and down her throat. She sucked him dry until she felt his cock soften and then Harrison kissed her deeply, tasting his cum on her tongue, and gave her permission to remove the blindfold….

Rose’s confidence was growing by the second and after putting on a show for the group, she was eager to see the effect it had had on all of them. Slowly she untied the silk blindfold. The sight of so many fit naked bodies made her take a deep breath in. Everyone was slowly playing with themselves, or whoever was closest to them. Looking around the room, she started to ponder who would be the most fuckable man to lead back to the bed. She wanted to be fucked hard for the whole group to see whilst they did the same as she watched them. The voyeur and the exhibitionist at the same time. She began to circle the room, picking up a glass of champagne from the table on her way. Her eyes fixed on a blindfolded man sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. His body was beautifully lean and athletic, his brown hair swept away from his chiselled face. She glanced down at his very thick hard cock being stroked by his beautiful partner, who looked on approvingly as she moved close. The woman got up, moved closer to her, lent forwards and took Rose’s right nipple in her mouth and sucked sarıyer escort it deeply. Then she raised her head and whispered in her ear, “I want to see him fuck you.”

Rose removed his blindfold so he could take in her naked body and took him by the hand and led him to the large bed in the middle of the room. The couple who had so expertly been licking and fingering her holes earlier were kissing each other deeply on another bed now. She stopped next to them to admire their lithe bodies. The woman looked up and said in a deep American accent, “We both love your taste honey. We want more…”.

A bolt of sexual energy surged from Rose’s clit to her nipples as she heard the woman’s words. “In time. I’ll call you soon to help clean me up and you can both drink as much as you like,” she replied, enjoying the slutty feeling that was washing over her.

Rose led her chosen man over to the bed knowing that he was now hers to do what she wanted with. She fell on the bed face down, pushed a pillow under her stomach and parted her legs slightly. She heard him grunt his approval as he drank in the sight of her pussy. Her voice raised as she demanded, “Fuck my pussy with your fingers, NOW!” He did as he was told and pushed two fingers inside her dripping wet pussy. He could hear her juices gushing onto his hands as he filled her up. “Harder!” she said breathlessly. He was hanging on her every word, aching to please her. She loved it when a man was so giving and this one was a true master with his fingers. “Don’t stop,” Rose gasped, as she felt that delectable sensation travelling up her legs and around her cunt. She didn’t want to cum so soon, she needed him inside her, to feel him fucking her hard in her favourite position.

Breathing heavily she climbed up onto all fours. As she positioned herself with her ass in the air for the second time that evening, she heard him murmur his appreciation. “Jesus your ass is just perfect baby”. Rose instinctively pushed it out more, knowing that seeing her asshole so stretched would send him even crazier with lust.

He couldn’t help but run his fingers around the perfect hole before she instructed him, “I want it hard and fast darling. Fuck me right now. Let’s give them all the best show they’ve ever seen.” She looked around as four blindfolds were removed by their partners. Rose had noticed the couples around her and the game they were playing. Two women and two men without blindfolds on were whispering in the ears of their partner whilst using their hands to stroke their cocks or play with their pussies. It was an extraordinary sight watching four filthy and beautiful people being masturbated while they moaned and writhed in ecstasy. Her demand to be fucked hard was clearly the signal for everyone to be able to drink in the erotic sight that was about to unfold.

As the four couples walked towards the bed she told them what she wanted. “Boys, you will stand to my side and stroke those gorgeous dicks until I give you permission to cum. Girls, you will lie in front of me with your legs wide open so I can watch you play with yourselves”. As she finished her sentence, she felt the familiar sensation of a hard cock head at the opening of her pussy. He was waiting for his final clearance to impale his long thick veiny dick deep inside her. Rose paused, relishing the feeling of his glans being rubbed up and down her engorged dark outer lips. As it touched her hard clit she felt a frisson of electricity running up her legs and spine, “Fuck me baby. Fuck me now”. Immediately she felt his cock slam hard into her pussy. He did as he was told and didn’t hold back. There was no time for gently easing into this. She’d ordered him to fuck her hard and she knew he would do as she ordered. His hands gripped Rose’s hips and he pumped his cock in and out with deep powerful strokes. It was blur of sensations. She could feel his cock at the end of her vagina and her pussy was being stretched perfectly by its thickness. She moved her head closer to the bed so her nipples would graze on the sheets every time he slammed into her. She could feel her asshole gaping and needed something there. Not a finger or a cock yet, something softer.

Rose called out to a beautiful dark haired girl with small perky boobs who had been vigorously rubbing her clit and fingering herself whilst staring into her eyes. “I want to feel your tongue inside my asshole while he fucks me”. Immediately she got up, greedily licking her lips. Somehow, she straddled her back and got into a position so she could use her tongue on her ass. Her chosen fuck boy had to reposition himself slightly and slow down his pace but they made it work somehow. Her eyes rolled back as she felt a cock deep in her cunt, a woman’s tongue teasing her asshole and saw women and men masturbating and moaning as they watched her. Rose desperately wanted to şarkışla escort let her orgasm loose on her body but she wanted more. Why would I ever want this to end she thought?

Rose could feel him begin to thrust harder and faster and hear his deep moans getting louder and knew he would soon reach a point of no return. She wanted to watch his cock explode, so she told him to cum over the girl who had been licking her asshole. Sitting back, she watched intently, her hand naturally moving between her legs so she could stroke her clit. Rose looked on in amazement as the girl opened her mouth, stuck our her tongue and presented a filthy target for him to unload his hot cum onto. As he moaned, “Yes baby, swallow it all!” she saw rope after rope of thick semen flooding out of his dick. His aim was impressive but not nearly as impressive as her ability to hold all of the translucent liquid on her tongue whilst looking deep in his eyes! She watched intently as the girl slowly closed her mouth, swallowed deliberately and then used a little finger to wipe the smallest trickle of cum from her lip.

Asserting his dominance over Rose again, Harrison took her hand away from her soaking pussy and led her to a tall and beautiful woman with long dark hair and big brown eyes. There was something very innocent about her, but at the same time intriguing. Harrison again whispered in her ear, “It’s time for you to fulfil your fantasy baby.” Rose knew immediately what he meant and she heard herself let out a quiet gasp of apprehension and excitement. Without speaking the two women walked back to the bed. The dark haired woman laid down and spread her legs wide open. Rose knelt down slowly, kissing her way down her leg until her face was inches away from the woman’s pussy. She’d fantasised for years about this moment and finally she was about to dip her tongue into her soft wet lips.

Rose’s senses were overwhelmed and she felt her clit throbbing. The woman parted her lips gently and began to tease her clit, “Baby, I want your tongue just here.” She could smell the unique, heady smell of her pussy and she couldn’t stop herself from dipping her tongue into the pinky wet folds of her labia. She eagerly drove her tongue inside the woman’s pussy and licked upwards slowly until she felt the hard nub of her clitoris. As she rolled her tongue around that beautiful sensitive part of her body, she could feel the woman’s hips buck a little and then she heard the familiar sounds of a woman in ecstasy. At first, she licked gently but then she felt a hand on the back of her head, pushing her face deeper between her legs. “Harder baby, harder”. She felt her own juices beginning to trickle out of her cunt and run down her legs as the sound of another woman telling her what to do sent jolts of pleasure from her clit to her nipples.

Rose knew how to lick pussy intuitively and began lapping at her clit harder. She wanted to create that steady rhythm she knew would take her to orgasm. The woman began to scream and moan louder and she bucked her hips against her mouth. She felt the gorgeous sensation of juices running down her chin and licked them up greedily. She tasted exquisite and she knew she’d have to seek out this woman again purely to eat her out. She’d been so focussed on her filthy task she hadn’t realised what was going on above her. As she looked up the woman’s body she saw two beautiful ladies sucking and nibbling the woman’s nipples. Incredibly the woman had also started to suck the head of a magnificently thick and long cock. The innocence in those eyes was no longer there. This woman was being the most perfect slut for the room and she now deserved to cum. She gave her tongue a brief rest and inserted one, then two, then three fingers deep into her sopping cunt. It felt beautifully smooth and sounded incredible as her juices squelched over her fingers. She found her g spot and gently massaged it. It was exactly what the woman needed as she screamed out “I’m cumming!” Suddenly the woman’s pussy contracted on her fingers and she squirted liquid over her hand and onto her chest and the bed. It was an extraordinary sight and the most incredible surprise. Everyone gasped and she heard the man who was being sucked groan as he unloaded a huge load of cum all over the woman’s face and tits.

As the others collapsed in a heap, Rose knew now it was her time to cum, “It’s my turn now boys and girls. Come to the bed if you’re going to be useful. I want your fingers, mouths, tongues, cocks and cunts to play with now. I want my tits played with and my nipples sucked hard and deep. I want my pussy and asshole teased and fucked until I explode.” She buried her head in the bed and left her ass in the air to see who would do what to her. Her body was there’s to do what they wanted, but she was in control of them all….

Rose breathed heavily as the realisation of what was happening sunk in. She’d never felt so excited and empowered in her life. The apprehensive girl who had walked into this house alone just an hour ago had all but disappeared. She was now going to fuck them all and she could not wait to feel a stranger’s hard cock inside her…

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Futanari Notebook Ch. 51

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Blonde

This was it. No reason to be nervous. They knew each other better than most people, worked together, slept together, helped and loved each other. Stacy still moved around her apartment in a flurry of doubt. Nothing was perfect, something always seemed just off enough to bother her, like the plate of cookies she’d plucked from the oven little over twenty minutes ago. Were they done enough? The stack didn’t look very neat. Too many chocolate chips stuck out.

No. No, it’s fine. Stacy plopped herself on the couch, hands clasped in front of her chest as she hunched over, trying not to look around and find another thing that would somehow turn this meeting into a disaster. Her breasts were full, almost uncomfortable, however she wouldn’t empty them yet. Maybe expecting anything of tonight was blindly optimistic, but she still hoped.

Everything about this could be a giant mistake. Opening old wounds for no reason other than the possibility of healing them might be too great a risk.

“It’ll be fine. She called me. That’s a good sign, right? I can’t come off as desperate in this situation, can I? So, it’s good. All’s good. We’re just gonna talk, catch up, laugh a little and let things go from there. Into the bedroom… Oh god, what’s wrong with me?” No one was around to hear her, the words just bounced off her walls. Though they didn’t echo, she heard them over and over in her head.

Not just the words, but everything she’d missed in the last several months. Cuddling while soft lips nursed from her bosom, feeling deft fingers dip into her and coax out pleasures beyond her abilities, and… her hands were between her legs now. Stacy bit her lip, staring at them drift closer to her heat, closed off by thighs mashed together. Moisture saturated her panties, leaking out onto her skin and showing through her strained pants. Maybe she should deal with that first?

“Stacy?”

“Fuck!” Stacy jerked up, curves jiggling as she rushed to the door. Was it her? Calm down, act natural, don’t cry too much and try not to leak right away. That could wait until later. If things went well, “HI! Car… Mel, hey, what’s… ooh…”

Her co-worker stood in the doorway, dressed up and clearly ready to go out. Co-worker? What was wrong with her that she still thought of Mel, whose body she’d seen more of than any other in the past few weeks, as anything but a girlfriend? She knew what. It was the whole reason she’d fretted over every detail in her home, the reason her pussy was wetter than it had been in months.

“You, uh, need time to get ready?” Mel asked.

“No, uh… I mean…”

“Expecting someone?”

“Yes, wait, it’s complicated.”

“Right.”

“Well, a, uh, family member is going through a tough time and called me and I didn’t think, so I offered to help them out and you’re not buying this, are you?”

“Not at all,” Mel said, looking closer at the apartment, “Whoever they are, they finally got you to clean up, I see.”

“Look, it’s not your fault or anything…”

“I know. Stacy, you’re a great woman, but you’re way too nice sometimes. You’re still not over your ex, are you? It’s cool, I get it. This was fun though.”

Stacy caught her arm as she turning to leave, “Hey, um, maybe stick around and meet her? You’ll love her.”

“And you’re way too optimistic,” Mel sighed and pecked her on the lips, “I meant it, this was fun. If things don’t work out and you just need some casual lovin’, let me know, okay?”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

With that short exchange, Mel left and Stacy was alone once more. Single. Unless… She shut the door and returned to the cushions, smothering them in her rear. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Carmen wouldn’t be attracted to her anymore. She’d put on all that weight, not only that, but Carmen was going out with that obnoxious, albeit hotter than hell, blonde. And before her, it was that adorable redhead.

Sure, Stacy had more curves than either of them – though the blonde was close with those implants – but that came at a price. Her belly rested on her legs as she returned to the couch, and sat upon it were her breasts, so huge and pert from the abnormal milk production. If she had any pride, it was them. No one could shame her for them, given the flavour they produced and the sexiness of gushing milk if she built up long enough. And the way Carmen adored them.

Was it too late to call and postpone their reunion? She just needed a month to get in shape, maybe use liposuction if necessary, get her hair done, put on better makeup and let her tits fill up so she could give Carmen a big, milky hug upon seeing her. A short series of raps on her door had her standing once again.

“Deep breath,” Stacy said and opened the final obstruction. And there she was…

“Hi.” That musically seks izle husky voice, like it just finished grunting all night in bed and was seducing her into continuing throughout the day.

“Hi,” Stacy said.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes! Yes, sorry, come in.”

Carmen stepped indoors and graced the quaint apartment with her radiance. It didn’t matter that she wore a simple jumper with cargo pants, though they were tight around her legs, her simple presence was divine. She took a long breath and sighed, grinning ear-to-ear at the plump woman still frozen at the door.

“I missed this place,” Carmen said and gracefully sat on the decade old couch, so at home despite the trembling silence.

“It can’t compare to your place, your family’s rich.” Stacy said and joined her, far less graceful in her descent. Heat flashed as what little distance separated them was closed by the younger woman, their skin pressing through cloth, so close for the first time in so long.

“Money can’t recreate the smell,” Carmen said, still grinning, “Like the sweetest grandma.”

“Grandma? I’m not that old!”

“I know,” Carmen chuckled and shifted position to lean her head on the older woman’s shoulder, breathing deep, “It’s your scent. That’s all.”

She was too much. The apartment was air conditioned, but it might as well be broken with the heat blaring through Stacy’s body, compelling her to get closer. She obeyed, resting her cheek atop Carmen’s head and breathing deep as well. How was it that, regardless of what other aromas surrounded her, Carmen reeked of sex in the best possible way? Like the air around her somehow smelled like how sex felt.

It could be her body. That blonde didn’t compare. Stacy didn’t either. Nobody she knew of even grazed the same plane of existence as Carmen’s, with gorgeous breasts that rested heavily on her chest, yet they sat up like perky B-cups. And what of the obtuse curvature in her crotch?

That was special to them for so long. Stacy hadn’t confided her lactation in many people, much less any past employees, and Carmen had done the same with her penises, all five of them. Fully concealing them was impossible, but Stacy had the honour being first to see them when they slept together. Although, she couldn’t remember them clearly. She chuckled under her breath; they had spent more time inside her than out after all.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Carmen said, lowering herself until her head rested in Stacy’s lap, legs and arms curled up tight to fit on the cushions. If they started seeing each other again, she’d get a new couch, one big enough for the stunning girl in her lap. Fingers combed through the luxurious black and pinks locks, their length reaching all the way to an ass that Stacy would drool over in different circumstances.

“Me too,” Stacy said, leaning to peer over her breasts, “So, uh, why did you call?”

“I…” Carmen turned her unique eyes away, grin fading then returning, “I really, really missed you. That’s all, honestly.”

“Did it not work out with those other girls?”

“Girls?” Carmen frowned.

“That nice redhead you were with and that… blonde.” Venomous tones were foreign to Stacy’s tongue, but it suited her memory of her.

“Oh, that,” Carmen nestled into the plump woman’s belly and shuddered, “You saw us and thought she was my girlfriend.”

“Yes.”

“I hate her. The blonde, I mean. She… it’s hard to explain it now, but she did something to me and Rachel, the redhead. Everything’s fine now,” she hastily added, “But that wasn’t a relationship.”

“Oh, that’s… I was gonna say ‘that’s good’ but that sounded horrible. She broke you and Rachel up, didn’t she?”

“For a while.”

Stacy froze. Her hand, her breath, her heart… “For a while?”

“Stacy,” Carmen sat up and looked her in the eye, “What would you say if I wanted you to be my girlfriend again?”

“Yes.” It was a whisper, but she didn’t hesitate. In most people’s views, Stacy had failed as an adult, becoming infatuated with this girl barely out of high school and not even nineteen yet.

But she couldn’t help it. They wouldn’t understand having never looked into those eyes unlike any other on Earth, the pink glow around a strange shape amid an ocean of red seeming to pull on her inhibitions, unlatching their hundreds of locks one at a time. If she just stared long enough, she’d never be the same and she’d be fine with it.

“Even if it meant sharing me?”

“Sharing you?”

“Stacy,” the way she said her name alone was enough to stir greater feelings, “I’m different now. Honestly, if you’d believe it, I’m not really human anymore. What I mean is, I want sex. All the time. So much that I fucked everyone in a strip club, long story, and still left wanting sexmex more. I just had sex with most of my friends and… it’s so hard for me not to just attack you right now. I can’t just be with one person anymore.”

“I… I see…”

Carmen stood and went to a bag that seemed to materialise in Stacy’s apartment. Was she wearing one earlier? She hadn’t noticed. The apocalypse could’ve happened when she first saw her and she’d be numb to it. From the bag, she retrieved a simple notebook, then offered it to her.

“You won’t believe me, but this book changed everything.”

Stacy took it and jerked at the jolt along her skin. She opened it and saw names, followed by descriptions, or rather, directions. For them to become more like Carmen, and wholly unique too. One name, Mary, was written with four breasts, another had penises for nipples and it just continued from there. Was Carmen showing her a fetish diary? Had she gone through a sexual awakening of sorts and this was the result? Maybe that was why she was the blonde?

“I know that look,” Carmen said and gently took it back, holding and looking at the book like it was her child, “It’s completely insane, right?”

“No, Carmen, it’s fine. Everyone has fetishes. I’m fine with trying stuff if that’s what you want. I don’t know how we’d manage most of it, but we can try.”

Carmen laughed. What a sound! Each note resonated between Stacy’s thighs, that husky tone still present and more enticing than ever. Whatever she said next, whether it involved a threesome or more, Stacy would do everything to accept and please this woman, whom placed the book down and sat astride Stacy’s lap, bulges pressing deep into her belly. Arms appeared on each side and she looked up at the beauty bearing down on her.

“What if I could change you to be like that? To be like anything you or I fantasise about. What if I could give you four breasts, nipples the size of cocks, enough milk to end starvation, a pussy that’ll flood your apartment, all with a cock so thick and juicy that it’ll need it’s own pants just to be decent. What if I wanted you to have boobs bigger than a house? Would you let me do that to you?”

Stacy wasn’t much for porn. She’d heard things about what resided on the internet, strange fetishes that stretched beyond her lactation and Carmen’s unique endowments, but never had them spoken aloud to her. Did Carmen really want that? What about Stacy? She looked down at herself, almost feeling her ex-girlfriend’s eyes follow, and imagined her chest at such a size, filling with impossible volumes of milk, all while a huge dick poked between them. Her pussy boiled at the idea, dampness spreading under her cheeks.

“Maybe not that big,” Stacy said, “But if you could do that, I’d be happy with whatever you wanted.”

“You’re too good for me,” Carmen said and traced a finger along the plumper woman’s body, following its curves down to her pants, then vanished past the tight waistband. It took some struggling, however Carmen’s fingers soon found her unkempt folds and the clit that poked half an inch past, “We can wait until later, but right now… right now I need you.”

Stacy looked back into those eyes. It wasn’t every night that she fantasied of being with Carmen again, but her dreams stared her in every scenario, from as simple as being back at Soothe the Soul, working side-by-side again, to getting tit-fucked using her milk as lube. They could do that now. Those fingers hovered at her entrance, taunting her.

“But I won’t if you need time. I saw that other woman before, so I get it if you want to…”

“Just kiss me, please.” The same instant their lips met, Carmen curled her fingers inside and set off a chain reaction. It wasn’t an orgasm, but close enough. Stacy had wanted this for so long; Carmen’s heat pressing into her, Carmen’s fingers exploring her wanton depths once more, Carmen’s taste in her mouth. She felt bad for Mel, however there really was no one like her.

No one that groped her tit and milked her, moaning at the mere fact of it. Carmen snagged her lip between her teeth and pulled until it hurt, then let go, tongue soothing the pain away. She whirled it around in precise chaos, then coaxed Stacy’s out. Once past her lips, Carmen suckled on it, groaning deep in her wonderful chest. Stacy didn’t think and clapped her hands upon the girl’s ass, joining the sounds as it jiggled from the blow.

Carmen released her tongue, her own hovering out to keep contact until she couldn’t reach any further. She slurped up all the loose spit, “You taste even better now.”

“Oh hush,” Stacy said and enforced it with her lips, using them to prevent any more words as she groped the ass cheeks of her dreams, while Carmen slid a third finger inside and ground into her sikiş grip. They undulated together, sinking deeper into one another, moaning their joy at reuniting. Subtle movements pressed against Stacy’s plush belly. One hand left Carmen’s bubbly ass to slip between them and feel the hardening presences.

At her touch, moisture erupted against her fingers as each bulge lurched. She kept touching, kept making out, kept returning the joy Carmen gave her even as she raced toward a climax. Too long had passed since she came, but her love would break that curse. Stacy chittered at the fourth finger stretching her pussy, while a talented thumb massaged her clit and sent tremors throughout.

“It’s okay,” Carmen said, pulling back just to nip at her neck, “Go ahead and cum first. It won’t be the last time, I’ll have you screaming with more soon.”

“So confident, ooh fuck, I think I’ll… hmm, do that,” Stacy said, “But I’m returning the favour, okay?”

“I look forward to it,” Carmen said, grinning up at her, before she latched onto her neck and suckled. Everyone’s erogenous zones were different, yet Carmen found her most innocuous place to target. As the flesh bruised in a love bite, Stacy panted and gasped, her pussy rippled, slurping on the fingers with enough force to suck the thumb in as well. Even then, Carmen angled her wrist to grind against her clit.

“Carmen, oh god, fuck, Carmen I’m gonna cum. Make me cum, baby! Make me feel so good! Fuck, I’ve missed you. So much. God, please!” Tears rolled down her cheeks, but were intercepted by Carmen’s spare hand, which cupped her and pulled her into a kiss, fingers slowing. As their tongues met once more, she jerked back to full speed. Stacy cried her out in her first orgasm since they last saw each other.

A wet hand appeared in her periphery and drifted closer. Carmen pulled away and brought the soggy fingers to her lips, licking them clean one by one. As she finished with the last digit, she shuddered as if in her own climax, though it wasn’t.

“I know it sounds awful, but…”

“But what?” Stacy asked, cupping her lover’s ass once more as the bulges in her pants grew. The cloth strained harder than ever, pushed to its limits, and creaked as Carmen rolled her hips.

“I think I might’ve missed your pussy the most.”

Stacy snorted and spanked her firmly. The ripple effect was too much for the poor garment girding her lower body. Tears bloomed across them and Carmen’s cocks lurched to freedom, but were bound by insurgent threads. The unique girl leaned back, as if offering them to her. Stacy licked her lips and tore the remains, then gawked as the quintet rose to their full glory. Were they always so huge and… inhuman? Her eyes locked to the middle, tracing the nubs and segmented bulges along its sides.

Carmen distracted her, taking her hands and putting them on the softest tits Stacy would ever feel.

“You can still back out. We can just be friends,” Carmen said, reading the apprehension caused by her giant members, “Once we really get started, I won’t stop. I don’t know what you remember, but I’m gonna do much, much more than that.”

Stacy gulped and squeezed, her pussy already famished for another orgasm, “I’m already past stopping.” Her love smirked, flashing her teeth.

“Then what’re you waiting for,” Carmen said, lifting her hoodie slightly and offering a glimpse of her gorgeous stomach, flat unlike Stacy’s. Before any doubt could creep in, the hoodie fell and fingers trailed across Stacy’s belly, so gentle and caring that her fears fled, “Show me everything. After so long, I want to see all of you.”

Maybe she was too eager, but Stacy all but ripped her shirt off and flung it aside. Her tits fell with a loud slap against her belly and Carmen’s pricks, blue veins pointing toward her dark, puffy nipples. They ached from the milk trapped inside, but the look of thirst that fell over Carmen’s face promised to relieve it soon. Her own top was gone soon enough and there she was, naked as their first time and, somehow, even more stunning.

“I love you,” Stacy said.

Carmen blinked at first, then her cocks flexed and pre-cum gushed down their lengths, “I love you too.” They parted the forest of phalli and kissed once more. Hot, bare flesh pressed against each other, no longer obstructed by clothes. It felt like she might burn up in Carmen’s heat, yet she never wanted it to go. No, she was burning up. Carmen’s eyes glowed brighter as they looked into hers and, like phantom hands toyed with her entire being, Stacy shuddered in her second orgasm.

“I need you,” Stacy said and wrapped both hands around the centre cock. Her hands didn’t even meet around it. Had this thing really fit inside her at one point? Yes, it must’ve. Even if it didn’t now, she could pleasure it in other ways.

“You have me. But we should probably move to the bedroom. Don’t want to make a mess of your living room.”

“Good point,” Stacy chuckled, feeling the massive balls churn. They’d definitely make a mess and more.

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Full Confession Ch. 02

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II.

I will leave it to you, my Dear Reader, to imagine the welter of emotions I endured in the aftermath of Satta’s sale to the goblins — an agony of love outraged and of vengeance sickeningly fulfilled; of a humiliation endured and a destiny — my noble destiny — attained.

Through the long weeks of summer I visited Graydon Zamp’s establishment on several occasions, determined to forget Satta and her counterfeit allure; but I found to my chagrin that none of Zamp’s trulls could satisfy me as Satta had. I felt her absence from the familiar routines of my daily life as an oppression, an unfillable void. Without her there to nourish my spirit I withered within, my soul perishing by slow degrees.

For three months I struggled with this disquieting unease, telling myself it was no more than a lingering aftereffect of my ensorcellment; I even went so far as to visit an herbwoman in Edgewater when it became clear that no amount of coitus with Zamp’s girls would suffice to cure me of my enthrallment. But the doddering crone’s pricey philters had no curative effect whatsoever, though they induced many disorienting and erotic visions.

Ultimately, my only hope was that with the passage of enough time my noble spirit would one day be cleansed of that magical taint. Then would I be free to embrace that grand destiny which the Countess envisioned for me.

The Countess for her part had no sympathy for my emotional turmoil. Her natural intolerance for torpor and sentimentality was exacerbated by her deepening relationship with Berjamin Rucker, who now visited our home two or three nights a week. I avoided the Countess as much as I could because I found her company vexing, but she insisted that we always eat our evening meal together. Invariably, she would devote much time and enthusiasm to remonstrations of my extravagant emotionalism and lack of perspective.

“You are well rid of that crafty meretrix, Dominus,” she assured me one evening in late summer, while I picked listlessly at an overspiced meat pie on my dinner plate. “I shudder to think what her ultimate intentions may have been.”

I glanced sullenly at Ruck, who watched me with his usual inscrutable intensity. “I do not care to have my situation discussed in front of a stranger,” I murmured.

“You are ill-mannered, Dominus,” said the Countess, her tone uncustomarily blithe; Ruck’s visits always imparted a jocularity to the Countess’s moods which were neither familiar nor comforting to me. “Berjamin is no stranger in this house.”

I sighed heavily, letting my silence speak for me.

“Such a sensitive boy,” continued the Countess, taking a large gulp of her wine. She had drunk two glasses already, another consequence of Ruck’s presence. When she smiled, her pointed teeth were stained red with wine. “Have you ever considered taking up poesy, Dominus? Limning your mawkish miseries for all the world to witness? Your temperament seems unsuited for anything more constructive or practical than balladry.”

I replied with all the dignity I could muster: “Satta’s passionate nature may have caused her to make misguided choices, but I do not see why you persist in your delusion that she was sent here by the hand of the Wizard-King himself.”

“You take altogether too lighthearted a view of his powers, Dominus,” said the Countess, a little sharply. “And of his animosity towards this family. He would stop at nothing to destroy both you and me.”

“What reason could he possibly have to despise us? We have nothing. We are nothing.”

“Because you are his heir, Dominus, and he knows it.”

“Then why has he not come for us? If he has so much to fear, and wields so much power, surely he would have found us by now.” I looked to Ruck for an expression of support.

“What say you to that, Berjamin?” asked the Countess. “Dominus doubts the complicity of the Wizard-King.”

Ruck was gazing at the wine in his goblet, which he had scarcely touched. “His Majesty’s motivations are often hard to fathom. I know only that he is capable of the most inhuman atrocities, which he inflicts with no more compunction than you or I in swatting a gnat. It is said that he has been deeply corrupted by the demonic powers he has tapped.”

The Countess shuddered, leveling a significant gaze at me. “Berjamin is entirely correct, Dominus. By the grace of Lud, we are yet alive and well. But we must remain ever vigilant.”

I noted, silently, that Ruck had made no attempt to answer my challenge. “I do not believe that Satta deserved her fate, My Lady,” I said.

“It is much too late for your regrets, Dominus,” snapped the Countess. “What is done is done.”

I ignored her. “What do you suppose the goblins did with her, Ruck?”

Ruck swirled his goblet of wine, frowning in contemplation. He took a very large swallow from his goblet and said, “I expect they sold her to the orcs, My Lord. Or kept her to themselves. They seem to be keeping more of their captives these days.”

“Oh, porno film indeed?” interjected the Countess. The wine appeared to have sharpened her interest in the unsavory topic. “I noticed that the goblins had a number of fascinating customs in regard to their goblingirls. The hetman’s girl had been mutilated in a most distinctive way, her bosoms cleaved. What might have been the significance of that, Berjamin?”

“It was indeed peculiar, My Lady, and I can only hazard a guess as to the meaning of it. I know that the goblins worship some manner of god or demon which is often depicted with four prominent teats. Perhaps Grikka altered his girl as a token of gratitude to this deity.”

The Countess would not normally have found such a repulsive subject suitable for dinner table conversation, but now it seemed to have riveted her attention — doubtless another consequence of her overindulgence in wine. “Is it normal for them to disfigure their girls?”

“They generally mutilate the ones they don’t sell to the orcs. It is well to remember that there is no blood taint in regard to the goblingirls, as there is among the orcpets. A girl might be owned by goblins for months, even years I suppose, and yet never undergo that degradation of the soul which prevents an orcpet from returning to humankind. The goblins must resort to extensive disfigurement to ensure that their girls will not be accepted back among us.”

“Do they commonly ride about on their captives in that way? I had never heard of such a thing.”

“It is a recent development, My Lady. But one which has spread rapidly among all the tribes.”

“Why, do you suppose?”

“The goblins seem to have more human females at their disposal these days. I assume that they are either capturing more of them, or the orcs are buying fewer.”

I spoke up then, bitterly: “Perhaps humans have glutted the market by selling too many of their own kind.”

Ruck was unruffled. “Not likely, My Lord,” he said equitably. “There is too much danger in that, and not enough money to be made. When we sold Satta, my men and I made only two rorrim apiece. Hardly worth the risk we run in dealing with savage beasts.”

“Yet you obviously maintain regular contact with them,” I said.

“They are, in a sense, business associates.”

“But the goblin villages are so remote – how do you communicate with them?”

Suddenly, but belatedly, Ruck grew wary of my prodding. “I’m afraid that is none of My Lord’s business.”

“Quite right!” said the Countess. “You are being most ungentlemanly, Dominus. We do not discuss business at table.”

Something about Ruck’s discomfiture unsettled me. “I rather think it a question worth pursuing, My Lady. The day Satta was sold, I remember seeing a hand nailed to a tree. It must have been there for the better part of a day.”

“Hard to tell,” said Ruck. “I suspect that hand had been separated from its owner for at least a few days.”

“But it came in response to a signal from you, requesting a meeting. And your signal must have been placed the day before.”

“Our timing was fortuitous,” said the Countess dismissively.

“I have never known you to rely on good fortune, My Lady.”

“Just what are you suggesting, Dominus?”

“How could Mr Rucker have known that we would have a girl to sell to the goblins the day before Satta’s charm was found?”

I awaited a response for several seconds, but the Countess remained silent, and so too did Ruck.

“The charm wasn’t hers,” I surmised, rising from my seat. I’d had a glass or two of the wine myself, and was feeling suddenly emboldened by it.

“Dominus,” said the Countess. “What do you think you’re doing? Sit down.”

“I’m going back,” I said, and rushed from the table.

“Back? Where? Berjamin, stop him!”

“The Countess is right, My Lord,” called Ruck, rising. “You will certainly die if you go back there!”

I did not reply, did not look back as I plunged out the front door and bolted for the woods. Without weapons or armor I was determined to face the goblins and save my Satta, or die in the attempt.

* * *

The sun was already setting as I sprinted down the path away from the cottage. I had only the most general notion of which way I should go, and was very soon lost. For hours I struggled through the forest, gauging my course by dead reckoning. By late evening I had exhausted myself, and had not the vaguest notion of where I was. Wearily I sank to the ground, resting my back against the bole of an oak. I considered giving up my quest and returning home, but how could I face the rest of my life after having allowed Satta to be so cruelly misused? I resolved instead to remain in the forest, to wander in search of my servitrix until I rescued her or died.

But first I would rest and regain my strength. I closed my eyes and imagined a joyous reunion with Satta. She appeared vividly in my mind’s eye, naked and beautiful, eager to please as always. sex hikayeleri She offered herself with boundless gratitude, and I took her blissfully into my arms, held her and fairly wept for joy at my wondrous good fortune — I had found her so quickly, and with such ease! I held her close, my face in her hair, breathing deep the loamy scent of her . . . .

My triumphant dream abruptly fragmented and faded, and I found myself lying with my face among the fronds of a plant growing at the foot of the oak. With a grunt of surprise and dismay I sat up, spitting dirt. I seemed to have dozed for hours; dawn had arrived, and I was now stiff and cold.

I continued on my way, roughly eastward, and within twenty minutes I was surprised to find myself on the edge of the very clearing where we had sold Satta to Grikka and the Broken Hands so many weeks before. It was deserted now, of course, by I was heartened nevertheless.

As I stood trying to determine which way I should go next, I heard movement in the undergrowth somewhere nearby — footfalls, light and rapid, accompanied by steady, labored breathing. Peering into the forest, I could just make out a fast-moving figure off to my right, not more than twenty yards away. I ducked down into the cover of the brush, and watched from my place of concealment as a goblingirl bounded lithe as a deer into the clearing, urged on by a goblin who was riding her, its high-pitched gibbering now audible over her panting breaths.

She sprinted eastward through the clearing, and plunged back into the forest on the other side; on a desperate impulse I decided to follow them. I wondered if perhaps this was Satta herself — or rather Rukka, as the goblins had named her – and with a swelling of hope in my chest I attempted to make sure of her identity as I followed, but I could not see well enough to identify her.

I strove to match the goblingirl’s pace, but where she seemed able to avoid the saplings and underbrush with effortless grace, I repeatedly blundered through them. Her endurance astonished me. She stood no taller than my shoulder and could not have weighed more than one hundred pounds, while the goblin riding her must have weighed sixty or seventy, yet she sprinted altogether indefatigably through the woods. I followed them until my legs were leaden and my breathing pained my lungs. Gradually they drew further ahead, until even the sound of them was swallowed by the forest. I persisted in my pursuit, however, in despair lest the opportunity elude me.

Ultimately my perseverance was rewarded. I discovered that my quarry had halted far ahead of me, and the goblin had dismounted. I approached warily now, conscious of my heavy breathing, and saw it standing beside the goblingirl. She was on all fours, motionless, her breathing hardly less strenuous than my own. Only when I had edged much nearer, to within ten yards of them, did I realize the goblin was urinating on her, very deliberately directing its vile stream onto her back, her shoulders, her head – marking her, I suppose, as a dog might mark its territory. Then it spoke, or perhaps merely grunted; in either case its intentions were clear, and the girl immediately proffered her sex to it, breathing more raggedly than ever, her hips gyrating enthusiastically. The goblin did not hesitate to step up behind her.

I considered my options as I crouched there, watching. I had intended to follow the goblin to whatever destination it had in mind, hoping that it would lead me to the Broken Hand tribe. But now I saw an opportunity to eliminate one of the vile beasts with very little risk to myself — I need only sneak up and bash its skull with a rock while it was wholly preoccupied with copulating.

I found myself goaded into action both by my natural distaste for goblins in general, and by my disgust at the loathsome act this particular goblin was perpetrating on its human mount. I grasped a stone, just larger than my fist, and slipped as quietly as possible through the heavy foliage toward the goblin. It was hammering away at the goblingirl, both of them gasping and grunting like animals in heat.

I crept directly behind them and raised the stone high, preparing to strike at that misshapen head. I must have made some noise then, though I was not aware of it, for the goblin suddenly looked back with a snarl and glared directly up at me. With a cry of alarm I swung the stone with all my might, and the blow connected with a most satisfying crack. The goblin sprawled atop its mount, knocking her flat on her stomach. It immediately rolled off of her, hissing and baring its fangs, but before it could recover I strode forward and hit it across the forehead. As it lay helpless I finished it off, crushing its skull with the rock.

I turned to find that the goblingirl had leaped to her feet, and was now brandishing her sharpened stake at me. Her skin had been dyed a deep blue, but it was her face which arrested my full sex izle attention. Its appearance was a terrible shock — not simply because of the fearsome scowl she wore, though it betokened an unquenchable rage and hatred — but rather because of the horrifying disfigurements rendered by the goblins. Her nose had been wholly cut from her face, and her lips as well, baring teeth which were filed to sharp points. I stared in absolute horror, wondering for some moments if this awful creature could indeed be my dear Satta — but no, the eyes, the brows, the forehead were all distinctly unlike Satta’s.

The goblingirl snapped and snarled at me, thrusting the end of her stake repeatedly at my midsection, and I knew that had the goblin still been astride her saddle, threatening me with its club, I would have been hard-pressed to fend off their combined attack and win my way to freedom; but facing only the goblingirl’s sharpened stick I did not feel myself at a disadvantage. She rushed me, grunting with urgent acrimony, but I swatted her weapon aside and lunged forward, swinging my rock. It connected with her cheek and she staggered backward, howling. She gritted her sharp teeth at me, shaking her head violently side to side. I noted that her breasts were whole, not cloven in two like Grikka’s mount; they swayed pendulously as she stood brandishing her stake. Mucus spilled from her gaping nostrils, to join the saliva which dribbled from her lipless mouth. A more repulsive visage I had never seen.

We glared at one another for many seconds, our weapons raised, but when she showed no inclination to attack again I called out to her: “What is your name?”

She growled and snapped at me, but still did not press her attack. I repeated my inquiry, and received a similar response.

“Grrrss’k!” I cried, echoing the sounds she had made. “This is your name?”

She snorted and her head bobbed in what I took to be a gesture of affirmation.

“How long have you been a captive of the goblins?” I asked.
Some measure of tension seemed to drain from her body, and the end of her stake drooped, though her expression was as wary as ever. “Ten,” she rasped.

“Ten,” I repeated. “Months?”

She nodded.

“Are you a member of the Broken Hand tribe?”

She indicated her fallen rider with a jab of her stake and spoke a few unintelligible words. I assumed at first that she was using the goblin tongue, but gradually realized her words were simply mangled by the hempen bit in her mouth and by her lack of lips.

“Your Master was a member of the Broken Hands,” I said, puzzling out her meaning. “You were not?”

She shook her head, and gave me a peculiar grimace. “Veast,” she said. “Ann’ul.”

“The goblins considered you a beast. An animal. Not a member of their tribe.”

“Grrrss’k good girl,” she proclaimed, enunciating with care. “Grrrss’k vurk ‘ard, vuck ‘ard.”

“Tell me, Grrrss’k: Do the Broken Hands own a human girl named Rukka?”

I waited with growing dread as Grrrss’k puzzled over my question for several seconds; if Satta had been kept by the goblins, what sort of wreckage might they have made of her?

“Rukka sold,” said Grrrss’k, glowering. “T’orcs.”

What answer had I been hoping to hear? My heart rose and fell in that same instant: My precious Satta had not been horribly mutilated; she had merely suffered an irreversible loss of her humanity. I almost laughed in my despair.

“W’at ‘appen t’Grrrss’k?” asked the goblingirl.

I nearly let the stone drop from my nerveless fingers. “Do you want to go back to the goblins, Grrrss’k?”

Grrrss’k scowled and gnashed her teeth, eyes burning with anger. “‘ere else Grrrss’k go? Grrrss’k a veast!”

“You’re no beast, Grrrss’k. You’re a human, like me. Wouldn’t you like to come back to humanity? Sleep in a bed, wear pretty clothes? Laugh and love and live like other humans?”

I was thinking of Satta as I spoke, imagining that it was she who stood before me now. What would I do for her if she had been rendered so unbearably repulsive? The answer, I realized, was anything. Everything within my power.

The goblingirl shook her head angrily. “They’d kill Grrrss’k,” she snarled, and jabbed the air before her with her stake.

I tightened my grip on the stone I was holding in expectation of another attack; but Grrrss’k merely glared at me, her forehead creased with misery. The gleam in her eye resolved itself into a glistening tear, which rolled languidly down her blue-dyed cheek.

“Would you rather continue to live among the goblins, Grrrss’k?” I asked softly. “To be abused and mistreated?”

“Hu’ans hate Grrrss’k,” she muttered, bitterly.

“Am I not a human, Grrrss’k? Yet I don’t hate you.”

She looked at me more intently, still mistrustful. “Grrrss’k can’t go ‘ack,” she murmured. ” ‘er vace cut.”

“Do you wish to go back to the goblins then?”

Grrrss’k paid no attention to my question. Her expression was growing more anguished by the moment, which served only to heighten the hideous disfigurements. She took a tentative step forward and stood slightly straighter, as if testing the feasibility of adopting an upright posture. “Is Grrrss’k ugly?” she asked, gazing into my eyes.

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Free Use in Freehold

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Ass

[This is the sequel to Post-Apocalypse in Free Use City.]

I struggled to consciousness and tried to remember where I was, and at first even who I was–and then it started coming back: I was 18-year old Jim Bridger. It was night, and I could see fairly clearly from the shining street lights outside. I was lying naked on a thickly carpeted floor next to a nude woman with generous breasts. She was on her side facing me, asleep, and was about the age of my mother–my late mother.

Then the rest of it came back as if in a swirling nightmare–the new pandemic from the genetically-engineered virus causing mass deaths, the side effects for those who survived, the escalating military tensions talked about on the news for weeks, and then the sudden activation of the Emergency Broadcast Network. After that a power failure, and confusing broadcasts picked up by my father’s battery-powered shortwave radio about nuclear detonations. A few cities apparently gone. A few days later announcements about a cease-fire, and assurances that this was a “limited” war, but by then it was too late. Civilization was falling. It was the apocalypse, but it had nothing to do with zombies–the causes were all-too human. I was an only child, and after a few weeks was truly alone after my Mother and Father got the virus and died.

Because I was young and healthy, and had survival skills from being a Scout, I was able to make it on my own. At first so many people had died that food wasn’t that much of a problem. All you needed to do was raid one of the abandoned grocery stores for canned or packaged goods, but before long those were being picked over too. Bands of people sometimes helped each other, but sometimes fought. As I was with those people, several months after the Fall, I heard rumors several times about the amazing city of Freehold, run by the mysterious, beautiful, and powerful Eve. It was said to be a place of plenty, including plenty of sex. About a year after the Fall I’d finally made it to Freehold, and had been admitted, because I had something most men lacked after the pandemic–healthy sperm.

After I swore to uphold the leadership of Eve and Freehold’s ruling

Central Council, I was back in a small island of civilization–with electric lights powered by their hydroelectric dam, cell phones, and plenty of food–all surrounded by mountains, fences, and armed guards in a remote part of Colorado. But Freehold had embraced Free Use, which meant that almost anyone, almost any time, could have sex with someone else. This was so that the birthrate would rise, and the human race could survive. Eve and the Central Council had also decreed that free use enhanced mental health, although it really cut both ways, as I’d seen myself. It could be both a sexual dream and nightmare, sometimes all at the same time. I’d lost my virginity to the beautiful brunette woman in her 40s next to me, who was also my therapist: Dr. Amanda Jones. In the middle of our therapy session she had asked me if there was anything she could do to comfort me, and I now remembered with both arousal, and a bit of shame, that I had put my erect cock into her mouth.

But to Dr. Jones that was appropriate. She was a member of the Central Council, and one of the people who set the rules for Freehold. She also wanted me sexually, and said she was going to “make” me lick her pussy the way she wanted. I wanted to, but if I had resisted this woman more than 25 years my senior, then I would have been reported to the Central Council, and would potentially have been expelled from Freehold.

I’d also seen the other dimensions of Freehold, for it accepted and celebrated all sexualities. One thing that meant was that at my orientation class my first day, which was just yesterday, our instructor, Professor Nelson, who was gay, had his way with me on stage in front of a whole class of new citizens. I’m straight, and so this was a challenge. But I’m a survivor.

My therapist, to whom I’d lost my virginity several hours before, seemed soundly asleep. But I couldn’t stop my thoughts, and I decided I should go back to my Central Council-assignment apartment, which was just across the street. I had food there, at least, and suddenly I was really hungry. But just after I’d pulled on my simple sweat clothes, Dr. Jones woke up.

“Hey, where are you going?” She said, and then sat up and smiled, adding, “I didn’t say our session was over.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Dr. Jones. I was getting hungry, and I thought maybe I should go back to my apartment.”

She looked at me quizzically, and then gently caressed and held out her breasts seductively to me with her hands, and said, “No more Amanda?”

“Oh, it’s just that you said that I could only call you that when we’re having sex, and well…”

“Who says we’re done?” She replied with a smile, adding, “Anyway, since you’re hungry I’ve got some food here in my mini-fridge, plus there’s a full bathroom behind that door. Let’s take a shower together, and you can wash my back, and then porno we’ll have at least a snack here before I send you on your way.”

“Yes, Amanda, that sounds very nice,” I said, even though at this point I kind of wanted to get away from her after learning, right after I’d lost my virginity to her, that she was a member of the ruling Central Council. She had told me she was going to report to them what had happened between us, although she said it would reflect well on me. She also said that now that I was clearly “besotted” with her, she would try to influence me, and make suggestions to me.

But would that be so bad? I wondered about that to myself a few minutes later, as I was in the large shower with Amanda, washing her back. I really still had so much to learn about this society, as well as my place in it. The more information I could get from her the better. I had learned in the year since the Fall that anything I could do to enhance my chances should be taken.

“Amanda,” I said, trying to be flirty, “May I wash your front too?”

“Yes, young man, I thought you’d never ask,” she said, turning around and presenting herself to me.

As I slowly washed her breasts, feeling their luxurious weight and softness, she said, “I’m 47, by the way, and so 29 years older than you. That right there shows you some of the advantages of free use–for both of us. I’d say your therapy session was much better for you because you were able to fuck me as soon as the therapist-patient bond took hold. And it was much better for me because I got to sit on your face first, and then have you lick me and finger fuck me till I came. That wouldn’t have happened in the old days. I’ve literally done years worth of healing therapy for you in a few hours.”

“Yes, you have,” I agreed, and then added, “May I wash your pussy too?”

She laughed, “You still sometimes don’t get it, do you? If you want to touch my pussy, just do that. Although actually it is a slightly grey area because I’m a member of the Central Council.”

“What do you mean?” I said, deciding to wash myself first until I heard about this grey area.

“Well, people with E pins surrounded by the dark triangle, like me, especially if we’re wearing them, are generally not treated like others in Freehold. Because we have power over our fellow citizens, often on life and death issues, we are treated with a certain deference. Even men who normally might want to have sex with an older woman like me back off when they see my E pin–and then it’s up to me to command them to come to me if I want them.”

“But it’s actually good for you to voluntarily make friends with the women of the Central Council, make yourself available to them sexually, and really please them–even those who have unusual sexual practices.”

“Are there any men on the Central Council?” I said, as I let the warm water just run down my body.

“We have one token man, an elderly Japanese-American man with great learning in various Asian philosophies. He has a doctorate in the subject, but drives a taxi here, as well as teaching college-level classes. But yeah, normally men aren’t involved in leadership. Didn’t you learn that at orientation?–oh yes, I keep forgetting that you missed most of your orientation. Well, I guess I’m catching you up now. Hey, aren’t you going to wash between my legs?”

“Yes, Amanda,” I said with a smile, and started gently lathering the triangle of her hairy pussy as water washed over it.

“You don’t have to be that gentle, Jim,” she said, reaching down and slowly pressing one of my fingers into her vagina.

She added, “Remember that your cock was inside of me not that long ago.”

“Yes,” I said. Feeling her very warm pussy with my finger, and thinking about when we were making love, made my cock, which was already semi-hard, jerk up into a full seven-inch erection.

“That’s a nice cock, Jim, but I won’t waste more of your good sperm right now, since I don’t think I can get pregnant. Captain Amy Wang from security at the entrance already forwarded your file to me electronically, and told me your healthy sperm was the main reason you were admitted. By the way, her personality report on you was spot on–you are charming and intelligent. But it’s your sperm that represents some of the future of the human race, now that at least eighty percent of men are sterile from that genetically-engineered virus. You need to impregnate some of our younger women here. And remember that women outnumber men in Freehold three to one. We’ll also need to get some of your sperm donated at our hospital, for artificial insemination.”

“Okay,” I said, and soon we were drying off, getting dressed, and then raiding her mini-fridge for snacks.

“So, why is there only one token man on the Central Council?” I said a few minutes later, eating a delicious bite of gourmet chocolate cake, then taking a bite of a tasty leftover pizza, and finally washing it all down with a cold can of bubbly root beer. All of this food felt rus porno like a total luxury after a year of life on the outside.

“Why do you think?” Amanda said, with a sudden flash of strange anger. A bite of chocolate cake was midway to her mouth on a fork as she said this, but before eating it she put it down.

As I mentioned in the first part my strange tale, she looked rather like an extra voluptuous version of Winona Ryder from Stranger Things, and even when angry Amanda was pretty. But for a second I was mystified.

“Think!” She said, adding, “How many women were in top positions of power in the governments and militaries that caused the Fall? It was men who mostly did this to humankind. We are trying to pick up the pieces, and create something new. It will be women who are the leaders of the new world, starting with Freehold. Men have their place, of course, and in some ways they are very important. But they had their chance, and look what happened.”

I realized suddenly that I was a second-class citizen in this new society. I felt my face get pale from the shock, because it went against my belief in human equality. But on the other hand, perhaps there was some truth in what she was saying.

She was studying me carefully for my response, and in part because I knew she had the power of life or death over me, I said, “I guess what you’re saying is true. I should have thought of that. Apologies, Dr. Jones. I’m young and still have a lot to learn. I hope you will suggest what I can do to best fit into Freehold society, and find my place.”

She smiled, and said, “That’s good, Jim. I’m glad that you can see the way of things. Some men can’t, and eventually they get expelled from Freehold if they can’t learn.”

She added, now finally eating her bite of cake, “I actually believe in the equality of men more than most on the Central Council.”

Then she looked at me seriously, and said, “Several on the Council, I should tell you, have adopted the custom of–well, this will probably shock you, but of urinating on men’s faces in public, to demonstrate publicly that men are subservient in some ways. It’s not just a humiliation, although it is that, I suppose, but it’s also a way to ‘Mark’ a man that they like as theirs. But it’s not exclusive–you can be Marked by more than one woman. Most of the women on the Central Council are, like me, older women with experience, degrees, and so on. When they Mark a man, it means he’s been favored to serve a member of the Council sexually, even though quite a few of them are past child-bearing years. Of course, they could always just command sex from a man they like, and they do sometimes, but in Marking a man they are indicating that the man is supposed to be attentive to them, and present himself enthusiastically for service, even before she has to seek him out. Being handsome like you are, I’m sure you’ll get Marked soon, and so you need to know what that means, and how to behave.”

I said, trying not to sound too shocked, “How should I behave?”

“Well, when a woman says that she’s going to Mark you, then you need kneel down close to her and accept it gladly, like it’s a blessing. Then, after she’s urinated on your face, ask her if she wants clean up service.”

This was so bizarre that my mouth fell open and I was literally speechless for half a minute. As I said, I’m a believer in the equality of all genders and ethnicities, and so this idea was upsetting as it was absurd. But to my surprise I also found it a little arousing, because after all if a woman was going to pee on me then she’d have to show me her pussy, and as an 18-year old guy that sounded good.

“This is a shock for you, isn’t it?” Amanda said.

“Dr. Jones, I just want to fit into this new society. So if I’m Marked, what clean up service do I provide?”

“A prepared man always keeps a packet of Kleenex in his back pocket, or a clean cloth or handkerchief. A folded white handkerchief is best, actually, because it shows the most respect. You’ll find some in the drawers of your apartment. If they request tongue service, that means that in addition to or instead of the cloth, they want clean up with your tongue. And so, you clean up their pussy with your tongue, which is like a short version of how you licked me with your tongue.”

I said, “But as a man I still have the right to initiate sex with almost any woman I want, right?”

“Yes, you still have that, Jim. And I know you’ll get some women pregnant, probably in your first month.”

“But I’m not ready to be a father!” I protested, “I’m only 18!”

“Oh, we’ll take care that the babies and children are raised appropriately. Half of Freehold is walled off and guarded from the other half. Freehold South is the place where the children live with their mothers. Women who get pregnant are provided their own houses there, credits, and all sorts of medical care and child care. It’s the future of the human race, after all. And with proper clearance seks filmi you can visit often. But the rules in Freehold South are very different. For starters, no public sex, for obvious reasons.

I put my head in my hands, closed my eyes, and exclaimed, “It feels like it’s too much for me to process!”

But then, several seconds later, I opened my eyes, laughed, and said humorously, “I need a therapist!”

She laughed too, and hugged me, and said, “I’m here, sweetie, as a therapist, and as a friend.”

“And as a member of the Central Council,” I added.

“Yes, that too,” she said, and then added, “Why don’t you go back to your apartment now, Jim, and get some sleep. And remember, don’t ever masturbate. Save it for the women of Freehold. Tomorrow you should go look for a job. Although you have some Freehold credits on your phone as a new citizen, those will run out soon. You need to make yourself useful, and apply for anything that you can do.”

“Yes, Dr. Jones,” I said, “Thank you.”

Then I kissed her on the lips goodbye, and quietly slipped out to go to my new studio apartment across the street.

****

As I got to my apartment and closed the door, I noticed it didn’t have a working lock, which seemed to answer the question of whether someone could come in for sex in the middle of the night. But it didn’t happen.

When I woke up at dawn, as usual I had a raging morning wood hard-on. On the outside I’d sometimes masturbated in the morning, but Amanda had warned against that here. I looked around my studio apartment, where I was lying on my fold-out couch, and I didn’t see any cameras. But what about miniaturized cameras? Or microphones? I realized I needed to be careful.

I quickly brushed my teeth and my hair, got into my old jeans and my old button-down paisley shirt, put my N pin on my shirt, which indicated I was a new citizen, and walked out the door of my glassy modernist two-story building. The sun was just trying to struggle through the clouds in the beautiful morning sky over Freehold, and I saw that just across the street in the old brick building that “Lily’s Coffee Shop” was already open. My phone said it was 6:10 am, and so probably they had been open for ten minutes. I saw from the distance a pretty young woman at the counter inside, and I approached and went in, hearing an old-fashioned little bell tinkle against the door pleasantly as I entered. Except for me and her the place was empty. There were good smells of fresh coffee and fresh sweets inside.

Before the Fall, if I’d been served at a coffee shop by a pretty young woman, usually I’d have been a bit shy. But as I tried to tell myself, this was a different time, and a different place.

The very cute hippy-ish woman at the counter, who looked to be about 20 or so, had pale skin, green eyes, dark hair and a pixie haircut. She wore no make-up, but to me seemed even more heart-piercingly beautiful because of that. As I approached the counter and glanced at the pastries behind glass, I then looked up and noticed a small tattoo of a yin yang symbol above the woman’s perky breasts. She had on a low-cut t-shirt without a bra, and I could see her nipples through the thin purple fabric of the shirt, which had a picture of a dragon on it being ridden by a woman with flowing red hair. The woman at the counter was in tight blue jeans, and was about five and a half feet tall.

“Hi stranger,” she said warmly, “Or should I say–” and now she took on a comic official sounding voice–“‘Welcome, new citizen!'” And then she laughed and said, “Anyway, what’ll it be, coffee, tea, or me?”

I blushed and smiled, somehow more shy with this woman my own age than I had been with Dr. Amanda Jones the previous day.

“You,” I said quietly, smiling, trying to look into her eyes and failing. And then I did somehow glance up, and added in a whisper, “I have morning wood.”

She laughed, and said, “Well, look at you, handsome newbie, all shy and bashful. Show it to me.”

I swallowed, but did as she asked, unbuckling my belt, undoing my pants, and then lowering my black Calvin Klein underwear to reveal my fully erect cock.

“Well, right you are. That’s really something” she said, and added, “Well, we aim to please: Where would you like to put it?”

I wasn’t sure I could say it, but I sort of did. I quietly said, “Would you…please take off your jeans, I want to….” but I couldn’t quite finish.

“You want to fuck me?” she laughed again, adding, “I get it. I know I’m cute. I’ve been here only a few months myself, but even with the extreme scarcity of straight men in Freehold I’ve drawn my share. But usually at work it’s down on my knees for a quick blowjob as they sip their latte. Sometimes, believe it or not, I have to convince them to do the other.”

She picked up a chocolate chip cookie from the case, walked around the counter, broke in two, and put half of it in my mouth and, while looking down at my cock, ate the other half.

“That’s very good,” I mumbled, with my mouth half-full, enjoying the still melty cookie.

“Yeah,” she said, looking up and meeting my eyes deadpan, “It’s sweet and moist, like me”–which made me laugh and choke a little on my cookie at the same time.

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For The Whored: The Future: Ch. 45

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Brunette

Minuette jolted awake. Panic rose in her as she struggled against the bonds holding her down. She tried to scream, but there was a gag in her mouth.

“Hello, dumb bitch.”

It was as if ice had been poured directly on her body. That voice gave her the chills.

“I am so unbelievably pissed off at you.” Elunara slapped her hand on Minuette’s naked ass. “You’ve made me so DAMNED angry that I’m employing a brand of punishment that I have never used.” She snapped on one of the ropes.

Minuette struggled and fought.

“Honey shit, you’ll never get out of those. I have decided that, since cutting you apart and what I’m about to do to you amount to the same thing… I’ve decided I’d entertain myself and mix it up a bit. I freely admit that the last time I had you in here, gave me the idea. The big difference is… it was of your own free will. You will notice that we are not in the main area, nor am I using my couch. No, I knocked your ass out, built this little frame here, and tied you to it.”

She pulled a paddle out. “Do you know WHY?”

Minuette shook her head.

“First of all, it’s sound proof. Second, I don’t have to lock my family out of their house, and finally, I can keep you here as long as I want.”

Minuette struggled and mumbled around the gag in her mouth.

“Aw, gee, you’ve gone and wet yourself. Here, let me demonstrate the other reason.” She lit the runes on the floor and ceiling and Minuette was doused with water. Twirling the paddle in her hand, she smiled. “You know, some people actually PAY me to paddle them. Some people REALLY like being spanked… how about you?” She whacked Minuette on the ass.

Minuette jolted and struggled.

“You went after my daughter.” Whack. “Kidnapped her,” Whack. “Tried to scare her.” Whack. “And were going to blackmail my son into having sex with you.” Whack.”

Tears streamed down Minuette’s face.

“Tears? Already? I’ve barely even started. Most last longer with my dagger.” Elunara spanked Minuette until both sides of her ass was red. She tossed the paddle to the side. “Your tears say no…” She reached down and slid her fingers between the folds. “But the rest of you says yes.” Moving her hand away, she slipped through the damp on her fingers. “I’d say you’re enjoying this.”

She picked up a tool. “Last time I had you like this, you wanted a nice little line of men fucking you. Is that your wish now?”

Minuette tried to move her head, but couldn’t get far, so she mumbled around the gag.

“Well, we’re not here to fulfill wishes, now are we?” She shoved the rod into Minuette’s front. “I’ve barely had the chance to study women in this capacity before… Let’s have a little fun, shall we?”

Minuette just squeaked.

Sometime later, Elunara stuck her head out of the door. “Darguni, that you?”

“Yeah, Momma?”

“Can you bring me your copy of your dick?”

“Uhh… Yeah, sure.”

He walked into the room where Elunara was, and blinked. “The hell is THIS bitch doing here?”

Elunara held out a hand. “Punishment. Give.”

Passing over the metal dick, he considered. “She’s a complete mess.” He ran a finger over a cut.

“Eh, she’ll heal. Eventually.” Elunara moved around. “Strangely, by my best guess, she still wants you.”

Minuette whimpered and struggled.

He stooped down and put his hand under the night elf’s chin. “Listen to me, you filthy bitch, and listen well. I don’t want you. I will NEVER want you. If you come near my wife and children ever again, I will slit your worthless throat. Do you understand me?”

She tried to shrink back.

“I think you finally do.” He slapped her. “That’s for Lydia. Anything else Momma wants to do to you… well, that’s not my problem is it?” He stood up. “Why did you want the dick?”

Elunara shoved it into Minuette’s front and had the woman gasping. “After a little bit of conversation, I discovered that she’d planned on having both you and your porna father fucking her at the same time.”

“Oh, ew.” Darguni winced. “It’s bad enough I fucked someone with my brother.”

Elunara shrugged. “Jordan and Grogek are bothers, and they’ve figured out a pace for when they’re both at me. It’s adorable really.” She shifted the sloppy metal dick up and shoved it into Minuette’s ass.

The smaller Night Elf struggled against her bonds.

Pulling another out of her kit, she shoved it into Minuette’s front. Taking a set of leather straps, she attached them to the dicks. “Unless you plan on watching me fuck her, you might want to leave.

Darguni wandered over and leaned down. He watched the pair of dicks go in and out. “Now, that’s kind of brutal.”

“Minuette will learn to leave my family alone.” Elunara bucked her hips back and forth as the dicks on the straps moved in and out. “Because of who I am, I can tell you, that she’s actually enjoyed it. Oh, I’ve made her hurt, believe me… but she’s pumping so much lust at me, it’s like a meal on a shelf, I swear.”

“Now I know that I know how that looks… I’m going to go fuck my own wife.” Darguni cackled.

“Have fun.” Elunara winked.

The following day, Elunara dragged Minuette down to the docks. “And fucking STAY gone this time.”

“Forgive me, Goddess Elunara.” Minuette shivered. “Your anger is never matched.”

Elunara shoved her onto the boat. “GET!”

Minuette landed on her face, before scrambling up and hiding in the cabin.

One of the deckhands stopped to watch. “What did you do to her?”

“What I’ll do to you if you let her come back.”

The man saluted. “Forgive me!”

Elunara made her way down to the training yard. Stepping behind Lydia, she sat down and pulled the woman into her lap. “It’s ok, little kitten.”

“I killed her, Momma.” Lydia sniffled. “I was just so angry.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” She kissed the top of Lydia’s head. “You didn’t mean it, but you were just trying to protect what’s yours.”

“While I was tied up, I used my nails to cut myself free.”

“Amazing.”

“But when she said she wanted to kill my children… I forgot about the nails, I just wanted to strangle her. Even then, I didn’t want her… dead.”

“I know.” She cuddled the weeping girl. “It’s hard to deal with, I know.”

“Did you…”

“Well, no. I was broken, remember? Even now, I wonder why I never felt… anything.”

“Oh.” Lydia sighed and stared at her hands. “I have to be careful with these horrible things.”

“Tried cutting them?”

“They grow back.” She whispered. “Cut them in the morning, they’re back to this length by lunch.”

“Freaky.”

Lydia slid out of Elunara’s lap. “Why did that turn on so many men?”

Elunara choked. “Seriously?”

“The lust…” She shivered.

“Yeah, I felt the weird little boost, but only you can pin point the worst of it.”

“She was crazy, momma. The longer she talked, the weirder she got. She was pumping rage at me.”

“Which is why you snapped. Remember why you snapped last time? And here she had you confined so you took the full brunt of it.”

“Minuette started out on Tara’s side, but got fearful in a hurry.”

“Well, know that she knows the true meaning of fear, she won’t be back.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Lydia shuddered.

Elunara made her way up to the Keep.

“How’s Lydia?”

“Coping.” She put her head on Varian’s shoulder. “Better than I hoped, actually.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “Well, she is YOUR daughter after all.”

“That she is.” Leaning against him, she sighed and rubbed her belly. “I hope my next daughter is just as smart and resourceful as my other two, and less of a pain in the ass as my other adopted daughter.”

“How is Tina?”

“Better. She works for Zelinnia now.”

“I’ve seen her running things back and forth.”

“She rather likes being the secretary pprno to the secretary of the kingdom.”

“That’s good. Any other news of the rest of my extended family? I rarely see them or get a chance to speak with them when I do.”

“Let’s see…” Elunara tapped a finger to her chin. “Grogek is working his trainees near to death and I worry for him. Jordan is the happiest I’ve ever seen him, mostly because it’s not him in some silly plot or another… Tulani is trying to get pregnant…”

“Stop. You fixed her?”

“As fixed as someone in her condition could get. I practically regrew the thing and cleared out any damaged tissue.”

“Who will be the father?”

“Jordan.”

Varian’s eyes went wide, but he stopped and considered. “Makes the most amount of sense.”

“That it does.”

“Gingy is happily making clothes, and recently asked Tulani to design her wedding gown. She’s marrying a soldier by the name of Warren.”

“I find it somewhat hilarious that you consider her in your family now.”

“Tulani adopted her, so she is mine by proxy. Also, she calls me Aunt. I find it adorable.”

“Go on.”

“Susan is having the time of her life, having three toddlers to shuffle around. Thankfully, Chrissy, Jenny, and Tina are all helping her out when they can.”

“Also adorable.”

“Ever since I had it out with Mr. Masters, Lulu has stopped trying to get you to disown her and is flourishing in her studies of the arcane. A little weak on frost, but her abilities in the shadow arts has Janella endlessly impressed. Lulu hates that. Once she’s free of her warlock studies, she refuses to practice. I don’t blame her, but it frustrates Janella.”

“I wouldn’t argue with it either.” He murmured.

“Bradly is madly in love with Evelyn and can’t wait for their wedding next month.”

“I’ll borrow your… funny how that works. After all his time spent chasing Lydia…”

“Oh, Lydia is getting the hang of the twins and is also getting help from our friends… that and she’s pregnant again.”

“Wait, what?”

“Twins. Funny, huh?”

“Next time lead with that!” Varian smacked a hand to his forehead. “Double twins, oh, man.”

“And a request for an immediate breaking at first opportunity.”

“So, between you and her…”

“Well I’ve got two months to work. She’s got about four… but yeah, more baby hell at our house.”

“I would hope that Emaline spend a measure of time here.”

“Believe me, she will.” She brushed her lips against his.

He wrapped his hands around her belly. “Mine.”

She leaned back against his chest. “Yes, yours.”

“If I had your drawing ability, I’d be going nuts trying to capture that.”

“You can always borrow one of those silly cameras.” She laughed. “What are you doing up here, Sugarbutt?”

“They said you came up this way. I need you.” Zelinnia sighed.

“For?”

“Talk.”

“Alright, I get the hint.” Elunara untangled herself from Varian. “My house or yours?”

“Yours.”

Once they got in Elunara’s house, she plopped down on the couch. “What’s up?”

Zelinnia climbed in her lap. “Things are worse than ever in my house. Both children are pissed at each other for falsely accusing the other about the stolen object, Abigail is refusing to even LOOK at her father, and Johnathan has locked himself in his office.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I just wanted a piece of sanity before I lost mine completely.” She sighed. “I just don’t know what to DO!”

“I’m sorry, sweetie, I don’t either.” Elunara cuddled Zelinnia. “We’ll think of something, bring them around to sanity.”

“Abigail is my biggest concern at the moment.”

Elunara sighed. “How much of the incident do you remember, or were told?”

“Not much. Johnathan doesn’t talk about it, he gets upset.”

“Well, the kid had nearly every child in this city under his control. He commanded you to fire on Renwa, but you fought rokettube it and fought hard. You never got a cast off. When he turned instead to Abigail, she fired, but never at full strength. I think she fought it by going for a weaker spell. She never did anything bad enough to hurt. Yeah, the stunner spells wore him down, but how injured WAS he?”

“Not.”

“I’ve heard all about Abigail from Lulu. She’s a gifted student and very powerful. If she hadn’t fought, she might have killed her father. As much as she has been angry with him… she loves him more.”

“Gods, I’ve started to wonder if she was even capable of loving her father.”

“She loves him; we’ve just got to show the both of them.”

“ENTER!”

Elunara pushed open the door. “Renwa, we need to talk.”

Taking a deep breath, Renwa knocked on Abigail’s door.

“Come in!”

He pushed the door open. “Hey.”

“Go away!” Abigail buried her face back into her pillow.

Tamping down on the crush of rejection, he steeled himself against the heart break. “Sweetheart, we need to talk.”

“No.”

“Yes.” He sat down in her desk chair. “I know you tried to protect me.”

Abigail’s head shot up. “What?”

“Elunara told me how that boy ordered you to kill me, and even against powerful runes, was able to reduce your damage to simple stunner spells.”

“I… I did?”

He nodded. “You tried to protect me, even when your mind was controlled.”

“I didn’t know that.” She whispered.

“Sweetheart, have you been crying?”

“I… No.”

Leaning forward, he brushed his thumb against her cheek. “I’m so sorry you’ve been so miserable.”

“It’s…” She hiccupped. “It’s not like that.”

“Yes, it is.” He sighed and straightened up. “You’ve been so angry and miserable and my actions haven’t made anything better.” Closing his eyes, he sighed. “I should have trusted you more.” He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Ever since the incident with the barracks, I lost a great deal of respect for you and have treated you unfairly. You were put up to a heinous act, and though I have every right to be angry with you for actually doing it… I know what it’s like to be coerced into doing something you shouldn’t. That sometimes, the threat of punishment is no worse than not having the respect of the person you admire.

Tina’s actions were stupid, and her pressuring you into the crime was awful. However, everything after is my fault. I held your actions against you, and as such, it probably did start to look as if I valued your brother more than you, and for that I’m sorry.”

She sat up. “You keep taking his side.” She sniffled.

“Because I believed his judgment to be clearer than yours.” Renwa raked his fingers through his hair. “That, and one other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“I have a special ability to make him confess.” Renwa shot a grin. “I put my hand on his shoulder, stare into his eyes, and he just can’t go against me.”

“Really?” Abigail gasped. “That explains…”

“I’ve never used it on you.”

“No, you haven’t.” She bit her lip. “I don’t… Well, I don’t really “respect” Tina all that much. I thought I was proving myself. That…” Abigail sighed. “It’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, Tina’s mother is Elunara… even when she doesn’t claim the woman as her mother, she still is. I wanted to prove that, the queen’s daughter can’t get in “anywhere” but the High Admiral’s can.”

Renwa blinked. “You’re jealous of Elunara?”

“A little.” Abigail ducked her head.

“You silly girl.” Renwa chuckled. “The whole world is jealous of Elunara.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me. I used to be her commanding officer, now she’s MINE!”

“Oh, Daddy!” Abigail giggled.

“You haven’t called me that in ages.” He murmured.

“I’m sorry I was so angry.” She sighed. “It’s hurt so much that you seem to always take Nara’s side in everything.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll try harder to be fair.”

“And I’ll try to stay out of proving contests.” She snorted.

“Are we clear?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Can I get a hug?”

Throwing her arms around his neck, she laughed. “Of course.”

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Fafnir’s Quest

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Cumshots

Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again;
Take me to you, imprison me, for I
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
–John Donne

Wizard’s Quest

“That is all I can do for you barbarian. The venom from the wyvern bite will slowly bring your death unless you do as I have told. You only have a few sunrises left. Seek the standing stone I spoke of to the West. Though the path you seek into the forest is now avoided by all; it is still well worn from ages past. A hunter such as you will find it.”

In the small smoke filled hut, the lanky old wizard was dwarfed next to the huge barbarian, by comparison, a mountain of muscle almost 6 feet tall. The blue tattoos on the wizard’s bald head, face and chest showed beads of perspiration from his exertions with the black arts.

“Your arm will heal slowly and cause great pain–even for one such as you. The talons of the wyvern taint the flesh causing a painful wound that does not heal, but does not kill.”

Fafnir tested the wizard’s patchwork, rotating his left arm, gauging the pain. He was grateful it was not his sword arm. As he stood, his muscular frame snapped taut and ready for action like a sinewy predator preparing to leap at its prey. The wildness in his penetrating blue eyes an indication that he was already preparing to leave and escape the confines of the village.

“If you have deceived me wizard, the last strike of my sword will be to split your lying skull.”

“Only a fool would lie to a slayer such as you. You need not fear treachery barbarian.”

The wizard peered through the smoky haze to make the sacred man-to-man, eye-to-eye, contact which he knew meant more than any words to the barbarian. The wizard understood the unspoken blue-eyed response. Few men ever looked a wizard in the eyes without fear as this barbarian did.

“The villagers are grateful beyond words that you have slain the beast. Now their children and livestock are safe. It is for their thanks and our arrangement that I have helped you, not for your threats. Few men have seen such a creature and lived to tell, let alone slain one as you have. You are favored by the gods. To ignore those favored in such a way is to invite misfortune, it is as simple as that.”

Fafnir still saw the concern in the eyes of the wizard–real or feigned he was not sure–and knew that his threat had served its purpose. He did not think the wizard was lying, but he had been deceived before by the servants of magic so trust would need to be earned.

“Remember my words barbarian. You will know the moment.”

Standing Stone

Another night under the stars and another morning alive! The poison would not claim its price today. The morning air was brisk with the remnants of a chill fog–nothing compared to Fafnir’s homeland in the frosted North.

The envenomed bite in his side ached incessantly as he moved. The pain only fueled him onward. All battles had their price and their scars; he had already borne more than his fair share even for a warrior. The bandages on his right side were crusted in his dried blood, but holding. The bite was manageable for now, his wounded arm likewise. Despite a slight lightness of head, he felt vigorous and alert. The poison in his blood was unmistakable and as euphoric as Stygian lotus.

The standing stone was within sight. Arriving during the moonless night, he had slept almost on top of it unnoticed. He could not read the ancient runes etched into the smooth granite (they were Elven script) but he knew their meaning: a warning to travelers of the dangers of the forest. More importantly, it bore the glyphs which warned of enchantment and the presence of evil. Evil he could handle, but magic was a bigger problem.

Fafnir stood for a long while at the entrance to the wood. He felt danger prickling up his spine; the same feeling he got before a battle…or an ambush. The surrounding undergrowth was thick. The opening in the wood was like a tunnel into another land. Occasional sun beams penetrating the leaves mixed with the dark gloom of the heavy forest canopy. His barbarian instincts were analyzing: every branch, every drop of dew, every tree, every stirring leaf. His hungry blade was already out, unconsciously, ready to taste flesh, hide or fur. Power runes along the sharp heavy blade shimmered in the morning light.

Fafnir entered the sun-spotted gloom, all of his hunting instincts called to bear. He proceeded cautiously along the trail, quieter than most forest animals. He would look for the slightest sign, the slightest out of place leaf. The skills of one who hunts to survive guided him.

There! A fleeting glimpse, it was too big to be a dragonfly, definitely not a bird. It seemed to have arms. To the right, again! Yes, a small woman less than 2 feet tall with wings fluttering like a butterfly. She lingered in the air a moment before porno izle flying off deeper into the forest, away from the path.

The wizard’s words rang in his head, “as deadly as a serpent’s fang.” She did not seem so, but one always heeds the warnings of wizards. He must catch her, the only possible cure.

Pursuit

For hours, Fafnir chased the pixie through the forest following a glimpse here, a flutter there, the scent of wild flowers which grow elsewhere. He was lightheaded and out of breath from the effort, but this was a race for life. She seemed to be slowing down, tiny footprints now with a longer second toe. Was she getting weary or was she laying a trap?

Suddenly, the brush erupted to Fafnir’s right with thundering hooves. In his pursuit, he had neglected his own defense. He rolled to the left, momentarily forgetting his injuries. Thrusting his legs underneath as he tumbled, he regained his footing, ready to fight, his sword already finding his hand. A sabre-boar turned immediately to charge again with the strength and agility of a quadruped. Razor-sharp tusks at the head of a few hundred pounds of mindless carnivorous beast closed quickly upon him. Fafnir knew he had one move and one move only before his saga would end unpleasantly: food for a giant hog. The room for error was narrower than the room for death.

The rune blade had never failed him. He would ask much of its ancient steel now. As the boar charged full-force in attack, Fafnir dropped to the ground bracing the pommel of his sword into the ground like a pike. By chance, it found purchase against a stout tree root. Every sinew in his arms was tested as he held the blade firm against the charge while the creature attempted to trample him to death. The blade drove deep into the heart of the beast, splintering bone and rending muscle. The deathly squeal did not echo amongst the trees; nevertheless, it was as chill as the darkest banshee wail. “One more trip back to Valhalla empty-handed for the steel-cunted Valkyries today,” he scoffed. Once again, death could wait a while longer.

The boar thrashed. It was still alive, but dying. In barbarian tradition, he drew out his keen-edged dagger, “Reliever,” to slit its throat. One of hundreds of such times it has relieved someone or some creature of its life or its pain. On one knee, he loosed his mightiest barbarian roar to the sky as thanks to the gods and the spirit of the boar. Instantly resuming his pursuit, Fafnir ran deeper into the forest, all sense of location completely abandoned. The crime of leaving the boar and its bounty of food to rot could be paid in hell.

The pixie could not have gone far. He was wiping the blood off his blade as he ran. Was his sword cloth stained with the blood of the boar or his own blood? His side was bleeding again; his life leaking away. The pain in his arm was that of a hundred bee stings. No time, he must keep moving.

The Enchanted Pool

Ahead, he sees the fluttering wings of the pixie as she lands near a strangely serene pool amongst ferns and moss-covered stone. Fafnir approaches cautiously. The water is mirror flat, reflecting like polished silver. His barbarian senses once again cry out in warning,magic. The pixie looks his way, as if to make sure she is seen, and then slowly steps into the pool up to her ankles.

Before his eyes she transforms. Her wings shrink and disappear as she grows in size to a little more than 5 feet tall. Now appearing as a slight woman, lean and lighter than a barrel of potatoes, the creature of enchantment now seems to be an attainable prize, the contours of her shape stir the lusts within him.

Her flowing auburn hair and fair skin are as fine as the most pampered of princesses. Her oval face hints at her fairy blood with high cheek bones, delicate chin and narrow nose contrasting a well-rounded, full mouth. Her bare arms are slender, implying the strength of a child. Her legs show a hint of sculpted muscle and are revealed all the way to her hips. His lust stirs to higher levels at the further sight of her, her soft inviting flesh radiant as she stands in a patch of sun.

She is dressed in silken green leaves. They are arranged as if the scales of a fish, from her maiden mound to her perfectly proportioned breasts, tight and form-fitting. Her breasts are covered, but her cleavage is open and her chest otherwise bare. She has the chest of a fully-developed woman, no dainty child, breasts that he can hold in his hands.

As Fafnir approaches, she turns to look at him with the palest of blue eyes. He knows that look. It is the look of an animal deciding whether to run or stand to fight. Desperation and consideration ran their course behind those eyes. She lingers, frozen, as he approaches closer. There is another look in those eyes as well. It is the look of a predator and it is also the look of lust–the difference being as fine a line as the ensest porno line between pleasure and pain.

In a soft voice as pleasant as the summer wind on a field of heather, the pixie speaks, “Will you ever stop pursuing me mighty boar-slayer?”

“No,” answers Fafnir, his voice a boom of thunder compared to hers, finality in its tone.

“You would have me…despite the cost?”

“Yes.”

“You know that I can do nothing about what I am?”

“I know.”

Fafnir saw the slight slump of her resignation as a signal and surged forward like a lion while enveloping her small frame in his bulging arms. Their mouths find each other as they collapse to the ground.

He lifts up over her using his good arm to inspect his panting prize as sharp stabs of pain from his mortal wound remind him that he is in fact a dying man.

He pulls his sword belt and loincloth free and lays them within reach. Only his pouch with its shoulder strap, boots and bracers remain. His hairless muscled chest, marked with scars, shades her from the sun. The pixie makes no attempt to escape, recognizing fate in the making, his intentions clearly evident. His proportionate cock is already as rigid as his rune sword. A new weapon, unsheathed, to be guided by his might.

He feels the soft curves of her body. The leaves encasing her are finer than Keshan silk. He can feel her erect nipples underneath the greenery. His calloused hands on her body are as strong as a blacksmith’s and as skilled as a woodcarver’s.

Carefully peeling away one of the leaves, he exposes her left breast. They are not the breasts of some forest creature, but real and human and soft and round and warm, slightly pink with a blush of arousal. Her aureoles are small and faint, but her nipples are budding hard and erect. Her body betrays her desire. She did not run away when she could, a willing victim of his animal desires–or perhaps she has chosen fight over flight? Leaf after leaf quickly falls as he exposes her whole chest and her two handfuls of delight. He can feel her heart beating quickly, like a captured hare, while her chest rises and falls with increasingly rapid breaths.

Fafnir can wait no longer. He reaches down lower. A single leaf is all that is in his way. He peels it back revealing her needy nymph parts. The leaf is wet with her lust, her pouting nether lips swollen in anticipation and glistening with moist desire. Fafnir tests the hardness of her clit sending waves of pleasure through her. He can see the reflection of those waves as ripples of pleasure in her face. She arches her back involuntarily at the sensation and gasps in reflex. Yes, her body betrays her true need to give herself to him, undeniable words written by her flesh. She is ready to be penetrated.

The remaining leaves fall away on their own as Fafnir thrusts into her, sheathing his weapon into hers for the duel of mutual pleasure. The soft walls of her love nest stretch tight to match his girth. Does her gasp show strain in accommodating him or her pleasure in doing so? He cares not which.

He fucks for his life, or perhaps to end it in bliss, as his wound stains her side with blood. In the tales of legend, the power of a pixie’s love can cure all ills. Each thrust seems to fill him with greater strength. Can the legends be true? Her cure flows up his cock into his body like the warmth of a fire, more with each thrust. The pain from his damaged flesh is second in his thoughts to the pure passion of their enchanted embrace. A passion that consumes him as a fire consumes tinder. His pain is fading away, but the euphoria of the poison remains.

Like the distant call of spring in winter, Fafnir remembers the warnings of the wizard, “More deadly than a hundred Centurions.” Yet he would gladly face those hundred Centurions to win her. The peril he truly faces is now clear before him. He remembers the wizard’s instructions. With his seed, the pixie would earn his life maybe also his soul. His manly essence would be drawn into the insatiable depths of her mystic lust. He would be swallowed by her sorcerous void of need, forever. He could feel the dark magic of her curse now exposed. He knew that finding her had been way too easy, too good to be true.

The hunter in him could feel her mournful loneliness as easily as he could feel the fear of a beast being chased. She had a burden beyond bearing, to know that no man could resist her charms, yet also to know that if he did not then he would be consumed by her curse. Regardless of her plight, now that the moment to satisfy her lust was here, she was determined. Shewanted to climax desperately. Fafnir could tell that she was trying, trying for him as well as herself. She sought the one man that would be able to outlast her, the one man that could force her to come after all these years. She could not help her nature. She could not help that no man could push her to the pleasure she erotik film craved so dearly even if it meant his own life.

Fafnir could feel the first pressures of seed building up inside him. His own early fluids were already mingling with hers. Soon, his lust would be too great to hold back. The pixie under him had her arms wrapped tightly around him in affectionate embrace. Her head against his chest feeling his smooth weathered hide with her cheek. He made to rise and decouple from her. He would try again for her cure. This time it was too late. She would take longer to achieve release than he would. The wizard warned that her cure would be bestowed only when she was in the throes of her own passion.

Fafnir felt her arms hold fast around him, preventing him from decoupling. She saw his intention in an instant. With an inhuman strength, a magical strength, she instantly wrapped her legs around him as well, clinging to him and his cock. He could no better pry her off of him than iron bands. Despite binding herself to him, she continued to work his cock. The pleasure was beyond his imagining. She milked his cock with her sweet sheath as his last moments of resistance started to pass.

The wizard’s words cut though his mind like a knife. The fog of his lust cleared for a moment, “You must tame her.” Yes, that was what she truly desires. He knew what to do. He rolled over so that the pixie was on top. She was distracted and surprised by the movement, but quickly resumed her ministrations. She did not seem deterred by the position. Her arms and legs pinned under him now made them prisoners of each other. The soft leaves and earth of the forest floor both bed and bondage. His arms holding her tight. In a few moments, she realized what had happened and that she was now held, but her tentative struggles were useless.

The pixie squealed as Fafnir’s mighty hand came down on her bare ass. The sound from his slap resounded like a thunderclap in the forest. Without pause or mercy, he smacks her other cheek with his left hand. The pain in his arm is less, but the blow still hurt him more than it had hurt her. It helped Fafnir regain his composure. He had a few more moments before he would fill her with his come and ejaculate his life.

At the pain, the pixie only increased her movements. His slaps seem to fuel her passion. The wizard was right. Hemust tame her. Fafnir unleashed a frenzy of spanking. Alternating sides, each arm holding or striking, he works up and down every inch of her tight round bottom. Soon her soft cries turn into groans of pleasure then a moan like an animal in heat. Looking down towards her face, Fafnir finds her looking back into his eyes. Tears welled in the corners of those pale blue eyes. Tears of pain? Tears of pleasure? No…an emotion rare in his life, tears of joy! The pixie wants to be tamed. She wants her curse to end. She wants to give herself. Helpless to fulfill her own needs, she needs him to break her. He knows it.

With each strike, Fafnir fuels his own lust as well driving her into his impaling cock. However, the exertions help to distract him just enough. His hard shaft is winning the duel of their coupling. Nowshe tries to escape in earnest, struggling desperately; the pain is getting to her. It is Fafnir’s turn to hold her with the iron bands ofhis arms. She could escape no more than he could. She is not broken, but she is no longer the one in control.

There! That was the sign. The first contractions felt by his member told him. She would come soon. Her body is already responding, nearing the point of no return. She tries to lean back in her passion. Fafnir knows that it will take more pain to break her, more punishment. He releases her arms. She is free to rise up, but her legs are still trapped mercilessly underneath him. She cannot escape as he continues to slap her while she feeds off the pain.

The poison is strong. Fafnir is feeling fainter as death approaches. His exertions have cost much of his precious remaining strength. The euphoria is gone leaving him with a spinning, aching head. He blindly continues punishing the pixie knowing it is his one last chance. With a force of will only available to a one who has lived a life filled with physical adversity, he renews his efforts. Fafnir grabs her hair and holds her with one arm while he slaps her breasts and face with the other. The harsh combination seems to finally be enough. The pixie can take no more. He slaps her ass again with all his might, sending her over the edge for good.

His own release is deferred as the pixie’s sheath clamps down on his member harshly, in spasm or by intention, he did not know which. Fafnir feels her magic flow through his body like a slow wave of pure energy. She breaks eye contact with him and tilts her head back to the sky to cry out in abandon. Such a moan of pure lust and enjoyment Fafnir has never heard. It was the moan of a mighty beast and not that of the small woman riding his cock like a galloping horse. The moan went on and on as if years, perhaps decades or centuries, of trapped energy and frustration were being untapped and poured out in a guttural expression of pure bliss.

Freedom Earned

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Every Man’s Fantasy Ch. 24

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Ahegao

The Samothea Project’s hyperspace shuttlecraft, CSS Petticoat I, landed by the Cloner City on the planet Samothea on a bright sunny morning. Yael was the first one out of the spacecraft. She wore her white airsuit. With her innocent beauty and long golden hair, she would have looked like an angel, except that compressed air tanks on her hips spoiled her sleek lines and a backpack full of physics books took the place of her wings.

Yael charged the air tanks from the ship’s compressor and turned on her airsuit. She was soon surrounded by a ghostly purple aura as the squeezed-up air shimmered and whistled around her. She looked longingly at the Council Hall, where her girlfriend, Carlin, was still a Junior. Sighing, Yael put on her helmet and, with a muffled shout of “Thanks” to the Petticoat crew, took a few skips, leaped daintily into the air and released the compressed air jets. She shot straight up and made a graceful backward arc as she flew south-east toward the forest.

In less than an hour, Yael landed at the Woodlanders’ Forest Camp. Shouting “Hello” to everyone and “Where’s Mum?” she threw her backpack into her mother’s hut and stripped off the airsuit. Straightening out a short skirt and tee-shirt as she put them on, Yael ran to the pool where Eloise and Adarna were drying off after a cooling bath.

“Mum! Mum! I’m back!” Yael yelled, pouncing on Eloise and hugging her wildly.

“Yael! I can see you’re back. Stop being so silly. Let me breathe!”

“No, I won’t! I love you so much, Mum!” Yael cried. “I missed you every minute!”

“Yes, yes, dear. I missed you, too. Now give your aunt Adarna a kiss and let’s sit down. Then you can tell us everything you did on Celetaris.”

Yael reluctantly released her mother and jumped on Adarna to hug her tightly as well.

“Welcome back, Sweetie!” Adarna said, enthusiastically returning the excited girl’s stifling embrace.

Satisfied at last, Yael sat down on the bench by the clothes line, where the women usually dried off after a dip. She picked up Adarna’s daughter, Tomi, who was crawling about on the ground, and held her on her lap, making faces to amuse the infant while Eloise and Adarna dressed.

Although Eloise loved her daughter more than anything in the world, she was also the least demonstrative woman in the Woodlander Camp. She kissed Yael on the forehead and sat by her, occasionally stroking her long golden hair, listening patiently while Yael told her everything she had done on Celetaris. The girl jabbered non-stop for a whole hour, by which time Eloise and Adarna were thoroughly exhausted.

They were none the less impressed that Yael had learned so much and happy that she had so thoroughly enjoyed herself. They passed no comment on the story of Ryan, which Yael told with innocent enthusiasm, sparing no details; though they shared a look to indicate that this was something to discuss later between them.

Yael told her story again to the whole tribe at the feast that night, commanding everyone’s attention from the moment they sat down to the moment the night rain started and they gratefully retired to their huts. Many things had happened in the forest while Yael was away: many women also had stories to tell; but they were all sidelined by the juggernaut of Yael’s breathless romance.

No one really minded that Yael hogged the conversation. Instead, they were pleased that a daughter of the tribe had learned so much and that she was bringing two friends to come and visit them.

Next day, Yael flew in her airsuit to the Herders’ midway camp to see Judith, her Herder mother. Now she told the Herder tribe everything she had done on Celetaris, with a special emphasis on the exploits of Wildchild, who had been born a Herder. It was a pity Wildchild’s mother, Galatea, was in the Cloner City. She would have rejoiced to hear the news.

Judith was enchanted by Yael’s visit, though she wasn’t entirely sure about Ryan and wanted to know whether his intentions were honourable, who his family were and what were his prospects. Yael delighted in the contrast between her cool natural mother and her over-protective Herder mother. She slept in Judith’s bed that night and next morning flew at last to the Cloner City to see her girlfriend, Carlin.

Carlin was the most senior of the Juniors now. She remained in her role beyond her nineteenth birthday because Jane Bradford, the Petticoats’ doctor, was in the Cloner City, revolutionising medicine on Samothea. Most of what Carlin learned from Madam Medic was now redundant; so Carlin and anyone who could be spared, including Madam Medic herself, took daily medical lessons from Doctor Bradford.

The Petticoats brought medical equipment, thickly shielded from the cosmic rays, to rebuild the clinic. Jane Bradford showed her students how the various instruments worked and the modern nursing techniques they made possible. There was a lot to learn and Carlin took her duties seriously, both as a Junior and a medical student.

Two years before, porno izle Solange had suggested that Gloria accept Wildchild as a Junior, expanding the intake of girls to the outer tribes. Wildchild had been such an unexpected success that no one afterward questioned Solange’s ideas in regard to the Juniors.

Now there were seven Juniors, more than ever before. Besides Carlin, there was Odette, the skilled Mariner sculptress, the second-most senior of the Juniors. She was the first Mariner to become a Junior. The others were a Herder girl, two Farmers and a Cloner girl.

The Cloner girl was Crystal, the serious-minded geek who had been Madam Scientist’s assistant since before she was a teenager. Later, she helped as a part-time teacher in the nursery school. Skinny with dirty blonde hair that tended toward the wiry and pale because she spent too much time indoors as a girl, Crystal sported a scar on her temple from when Belena Mariner went nuts and vandalised the Cloning Lab, accidentally striking Crystal who bravely confronted her. Now she was just eighteen, Crystal was the newest Junior.

Still a geek, Crystal had lost her serious manner and, instead, gained an unexpected cheekiness. She also fancied Carlin something rotten and didn’t try to hide her infatuation.

Extra Juniors meant more work because Carlin didn’t merely give orders but got her hands dirty helping the girls with their duties, showing them how to make unpleasant chores more palatable. This hot afternoon, she sacrificed some of her free time to give the girls a pep-talk and hear their complaints, leaving Odette alone on duty to look after any of the Councillors’ needs and to answer the front door.

Yael, a blonde whirlwind, landed at the Cloner City on a sultry day, when almost everyone was having a rest after lunch. She stripped off her airsuit and folded it away. The grey mini-skirt and short yellow slip top she pulled out of her backpack were sadly crumpled. Yael tried shaking them out but decided they would have to do as they were. She put on the clothes, hefted the backpack over her shoulders and ran up to the Council Hall to knock excitedly at the door.

It took a minute of impatient rapping before Odette responded to the summons.

“Hello, Miss Junior,” Yael spurted excitedly, without looking at who greeted her. “I’m Yael Eloisesdaughter Woodlander. I’m here to see Carlin Erinsdaughter. Can I see her, please? Where is she?”

“Yael. It’s me, Odette.”

“Odette!” Yael cried, leaping up to hug the Mariner girl. “I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on!”

This odd statement was because the Mariners generally wore short leather skirts and jackets, but they worked naked, so they were often unclothed around the camp. Now Odette was in a very fetching mid-length blue dress with bare arms.

“Here, give me your pack,” Odette said. “Carlin’s with the Juniors in the dormitory. I’ll show you the way.”

“Thanks. I know it!”

Leaving her pack with Odette, Yael sprinted up the stairs, three at a time, shouting “Carlin, Carlin!”

The commotion alerted Madam Gloria, Prefect of Samothea, who had been reading in her room. She came to the balcony to see Yael bouncing upstairs.

“Good afternoon, Yael,” she called out across the corridor.

“Hi, Gloria,” Yael cried happily but she didn’t stop to talk.

Odette followed at a more respectable pace. At the top of the stairs, she dropped a deeper curtsey than normal to Gloria, as if to make up for Yael’s lack of manners, but Gloria only smiled and waved her on. She knew what drove Yael and would never put her dignity before young love.

Yael crashed into the Junior dormitory, interrupting the meeting, crying: “Carlin: I’m back, I’m back!”

Surprised but happy, her girlfriend raced to the door to greet her.

“Yael! I’m glad you’re here!”

They hugged tightly. Carlin let Yael kiss her for a full minute before releasing her excited girlfriend. She knew all the Juniors were staring at them. Carlin began to go pink but she wouldn’t let embarrassment deflect her.

“Give me ten minutes to sort these girls out,” she said, “then we can have a good chat.”

“But I’ve so much to tell you!” Yael protested, vibrating with excitement. “And I’ve missed you ever so much! And I’m eighteen now! And, and, and … everything!”

To the amusement of the Juniors, Yael held Carlin tightly around the waist, kissing her neck and cheeks from the back, as her girlfriend turned to address the Juniors and continue her work. Girls less inquisitive than the Juniors, or people on any planet other than Samothea – where consideration for privacy existed only in theory – might have left the two lovers alone. But everyone wanted to stay and watch, happy for Carlin and keen to see how the girls made love.

“Stop it, Yael!” Carlin said firmly, shrugging a shoulder, trying to shake off her grabby girlfriend. “Behave yourself! I’ll attend to you when I’m done with my duties!”

“But I…”

Carlin turned and ensest porno held Yael’s cheeks in her hands. She planted a firm kiss on Yael’s lips and then said:

“Now, that’s enough. I’ve got work to do. Why don’t you go and annoy someone else?”

“Ooh,” Yael protested, smiling at her forthright friend.

This was a new Carlin. Despite her flushed cheeks, which was a reflex she couldn’t control, she was no longer a demure silent girl, shy and reserved. This was a young woman with responsibilities and a will.

“Can’t I stay here?” Yael pleaded. “I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“You can’t be quiet for two minutes …”

“Of course, I can!”

Carlin raised a finger again and Yael went silent.

“… but I’ll let you stay.”

Yael was delighted at the change in her girlfriend. Carlin showed more assertiveness than she had ever seen before. The delicate forest flower who rarely spoke in public, was bold enough to tell her voluble girlfriend to shut up. Yael made the ‘button my lips’ gesture and sat happily on a bed, knees modestly together, big brown eyes focussing on her girlfriend, love shining on her face, while Carlin attended to the various problems of the Juniors.

The main thing Yael noticed was that Solange had done more than extend the age-range and increase the numbers of the Juniors. She had also taught her style of leadership. Carlin led the Juniors in exactly the same way that Solange once led the Herders.

Carlin gave no orders and told no one off publicly. She listened and asked questions. She took every problem seriously, however trite or exaggerated (as might be expected from a bunch of teenage girls). She heard each Junior’s complaint patiently and offered careful advice.

Her approach taught the Juniors a sense of perspective. What seemed like an overwhelming disaster to a girl only an hour ago now somehow seemed simple or even petty. It was amazing how the Juniors also managed to think up the solutions themselves, so that they should have something constructive to tell Carlin and not just burden her with their gripes.

One change Carlin had to make was when the Herder Junior moaned that she was the only one who tended the horses. This was a fair complaint, now that Solange and Ash were permanently in the Cloner City, and Galatea, Chief of the Herder Tribe, visited so often. It had been a simple solution to get the Herder Junior to care for the horses; but there was no joy for a Junior in working alone. A job took only half the time when it was shared. It felt like it took even less time when there was someone to talk to.

Carlin quickly reorganised the work-schedules so that another Junior would help tend the horses.

Having checked that the Juniors understood the various rosters for cleaning, making beds, clearing the table, cleaning the bathroom, pumping fresh water, doing the washing, stacking the towels and assisting the cooks, Carlin ended by saying:

“I’m going to prepare a spare bedroom now for Yael and me. We are not to be disturbed by any of you, not for any reason, nor at any time!”

The Juniors passed knowing smiles between themselves. The girls had started learning about sex when they became Juniors, but Carlin never joined in their experiments because she was waiting for her girlfriend to return. Which was right now. They couldn’t have been more happy for her.

“You can stop smiling at me like that,” Carlin said, trying to sound stern. “What I’d like to see while I’m busy is that, for once in your lazy lives, you wenches clean up the unwholesome mess you’ve made of this dormitory!”

The Juniors affected to protest the injustice of this accusation, while the guilty evidence was strewn on the floor around their feet, spread over their beds and on every spare surface.

“Go on, off with you,” Carlin said, ignoring their protests. “Go and be useful!”

The Juniors loved Carlin and regretted that she didn’t want to be bedmates with them. The next best thing was to help her and Yael. They fetched Carlin’s belongings, Yael’s pack, some bed sheets, a blanket and pillows and took them to the spare bedroom. Within minutes, the bedroom was prepared and the girls waited around the bed for Carlin’s inspection.

All the while, Yael remained amazingly quiet, following the action into the corridor and the nearby bedroom, pleased that the Juniors liked Carlin so much.

“Thank you, girls,” Carlin said, but still the Juniors stayed.

“What is it?” Carlin asked.

“We want to stay and watch,” said Crystal, with her characteristic cheekiness.

Yael laughed but Carlin wasn’t having any of it.

“Under no circumstances.”

“But we love you, Carlin, and we want to see you happy,” Crystal protested.

“I don’t care. Now off with you all!”

“Not unless you kiss us first.”

“Oh, God!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” they all agreed. “Just a kiss.”

“Useless wenches!” Carlin complained but they lined up by the door to be kissed.

Odette erotik film was first and she hugged Carlin, whispering to her:

“You don’t mind?”

“Keep them busy for a couple of hours, will you?” Carlin said.

Carlin kissed Odette on the lips and then the others in turn, ending up with Crystal. Unlike the other Juniors, who took their kisses and skipped off into the corridor, Crystal stayed put and stuck her bottom out, inviting a spank.

Yael was again impressed by the good wallop Carlin gave the girl’s perky buttocks, a resounding slap that made the Junior jump and cry out “Ooh!”

Giggling, Crystal winked at Yael and skipped happily away to her chores, leaving Carlin and Yael alone at last.

Carlin shut the door. The two girls stood either side of the bedroom, just looking at each other, gazes fixed, love shining from their faces, desire burning in their eyes.

“I love you, Yael,” Carlin said. “I’ve missed you every day, dreamed about you every day and longed for you to be back.”

“I love you, Carlin,” Yael said, more relieved than she could imagine that Carlin’s feelings hadn’t changed during their separation. “I’m sorry I was away so long.”

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters. … You’ve grown.”

“So have you.”

“An inch, barely. You look six inches taller.”

“Do you mind?”

“Do I mind that my bedmate is the most beautiful girl on Samothea? Yes, I mind very much.”

“‘Bedmate,’ you said.”

“Well, it’s true!”

“That’s my line!” Yael protested, laughing.

All the while, they had been inching closer to each other. Now they were just a step apart.

“I’m eighteen now …” Yael said.

“I know …”

“… and I’ve got so much to tell you.”

“I know that, too. It can wait.”

Now they were an inch apart.

“But it’s important,” Yael said.

“So is this.”

“But I need to know that you don’t mind …”

“Yael, the only thing I mind is that we’re not making love right now. You can talk later – if I let you.”

With that, to Yael’s delight, the newly assertive Carlin grabbed her girlfriend and pulled her into a clinch, mouth-to-mouth, arms around Yael’s tiny waist, who responded by holding Carlin tightly around the neck. Their tongues pressed together.

They kissed for ages, savouring the first physical declaration of love, getting to know each other in ways they had only dreamed about.

They had kissed before, as friends and as promised bedmates, for joy and for love but not like this, with all their longing and love pressed into a first act of connection that neither girl wanted to end.

Though it was the newly confident Carlin who initiated the lovemaking, it was Yael who was the experienced one and she eventually took charge, bringing Carlin to a level of excitement she had never known before.

As she became more aroused, Carlin dropped back into her submissive mode, where she wanted Yael to lead and she would follow, as Yael, though the younger, had led them in their games and harebrained jinks in the forest.

It was a twist that the girls barely noticed, so intense was the feeling, that Yael the chatterbox, the incessant talker, who was apt to vocalise every event in her life, was almost silent during sex, floating on waves of emotion too intense for her to express in words. But Carlin, the silent girl, the shy elfin beauty, found a release in talking during sex, telling Yael what she felt, how much she loved her, what she wanted, exclaiming: “Do that again,” “Touch me here,” “Just there, right there! Oh, God! Just like that!”

Even when she couldn’t speak, Carlin still vocalised everything she felt, with a moan, a sigh or a plea, as the girls held each other, learning and discovering together with questing fingers and teasing tongues.

As Yael cherished Carlin’s curvy body, she was delighted to find sensitive kissing-spots on her ribs, around her belly-button, the underside of her tits, the backs of her knees and, especially, her inner thighs. Yael worked these points with joy.

She had a mixture of styles, going by what, as a woman, she wanted done to herself, slowly and sensuously, but also trying to do to Carlin what Ryan did to her, simulating Ryan’s horny eagerness and natural domination; but her strength was a woman’s strength and her rhythm was a woman’s rhythm.

Yael slowed down to tease and delay, caressing lightly, giving little kisses, licks and nibbles, as Carlin held her tightly, feeling everything that Yael felt, synchronised with her girlfriend in body and soul.

They shifted position often and took turns to tease, kiss or caress, always in contact, breathing in rhythm. The next time Yael was on top, she kissed down Carlin’s stomach to play her tongue along the gap between belly and thigh. At the same time, she brushed the outside of a finger nail along Carlin’s pussy, the first time she had touched her there.

Carlin sighed happily and Yael did it again. Carlin shut her eyes and leaned back, spreading her thighs. Yael lightly fingered all around her girlfriend’s wet pussy as Carlin breathed heavily. She gave out a little whimpering moan when Yael brushed the hood of her clitoris, with a touch as soft as a breath. So Yael did it again. And again.

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Erin’s New Job

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Ass

Erin was desperate for money. He needed money to pay off school tuition and there were almost no jobs out there. Out of desperation he agreed to work on The Farm.

The Farm was a prostitution facility. He would be prostituted for six months and at the end of the six months he would return home with all the money he needed for school. There was just one catch. They were going to physically alter him. The Farm catered to a very special niche. They dealt in futatari.

He had been led into a room and given the concoction that would change him. A skimpy outfit hung beside a full length mirror.

“You will have 24 hours to adjust to your new body before you will be brought to the floor and worked,” his handler indicated at the outfit as she spoke. “You will be expected to wear this for your first shift. After that feel free to wear anything in the wardrobe or nothing. The choice is yours. Relax and enjoy yourself. It is a treat to work here.”

Erin glanced at the vial in his hand as the handler left. There was no turning back after this. He would be stuck in that body for at least six months. Taking a deep breath he downed the contents of the vial in one gulp. He set the vial down on the small table beside the bed and began to undress.

No sooner had he finished folding his clothes when he felt a warmth surge through him. He laid down on the bed so as not to fall over as a wave of dizziness hit him. He squirmed on the bed as every nerve in his body became aroused. He felt his hair growing longer and ran his fingers through the new locks.

Groaning, he noticed his voice porno film had lost that masculine tone and a slight feminine tone had crept in. His hands flew over his body as it repositioned itself. His waist began to shrink and his hips widened. He moaned as the pleasure in his body increased. Slowly he became aware that his chest was getting higher.

He squeezed his expanding breasts, enjoying the pleasure that shot through them. They continued to expand until he was at least a DD. They finally seemed to settle on a size and his nipples hardened in the cool air.

Scissoring his legs together he could feel a heat growing between his legs. Reaching down, he noticed that his balls were receding into him and his cock was growing in length and girth. Behind his penis he felt a valley forming in the flesh. It widened and opened. Exploring the new area it belatedly dawn on him that this was his new cunt.

Pleasure was cascading over him in ever increasing waves. When it seemed that he could take not more and his body could change no more he came. He had never experienced an orgasm like that even in his wildest dreams. He shot cum out of his cock in an almost never ending stream.

At the same time his newly formed cunt twitched with joyous spasms. After what seemed like hours his body began to call down. Exhausted with the transformation Erin fell asleep covered in his own cum.

Waking up Erin glanced at the clock beside the bed. He was startled to find he only had two hours to get cleaned up and dressed. He slowly sat up clutching his breasts. They felt warm to the touch brazzers porno and a wave a pleasure passed through him. He stood up and moved to the shower.

The shower afforded him the opportunity to explore his new body. He washed everywhere. When he reached his genitals he paused. It felt strange not to feel his balls there but even stranger was the slit that formed his cunt. That would definitely take some getting used to.

After he got out of the shower he got dressed in the outfit that had been left out for him. A small bikini top covered his nipples but left his breasts visible. The bottoms were a short skirt. There was no underwear. The skirt barely covered his dick. He sat down at the vanity and put on the makeup the way he had been taught. He styled his hair the best he could. It would get better in time he knew.

Standing back in the full length mirror Erin could not believe that the stranger he saw was himself. His stomach flopped nervously. What had he gotten himself into? Before panic set in his handler returned.

“I hope yesterday was enjoyable to you. Please put on these shoes and follow me.” Erin put on the stiletto heals and awkwardly followed the woman.

He was led down a corridor with several doors on either side. “This is your booth for now. You will be notified what act has been requested and then the client will enter. Fulfill all of your duties and a $10,000 bonus will be give to you at the end of your contract.”

Erin entered his booth. A bed was in one corner of the room. The other side of the room had straps doeda and bars suspended from the ceiling and attached to the floor. Nervously, he sat on the bed. He jumped out of his skin when a panel on the wall by the bed chimed. Looking at it he saw a dossier appear on the screen. His instructions told him he was to be vaginally fucked. His nerves returned with a vengeance with this information.

He stood as the client entered the room. He was only wearing a robe. “I’ve been told that this is your first time. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything strange tonight. I just want to take that nice new cunt of yours for a spin.”

He quickly removed his robe revealing his hard cock. Before Erin could react the client had his tongue down his throat. Pushing him onto the bed the client removed the bikini top. Groaning with pleasure the client pushed his face deep into the virgin cleavage.

The client began to kiss Erin again as he removed the skirt. Groping Erin’s ass tightly he pulled erin closer to his dick.

“My that is a large dick you have. If I have any energy left I might pay it some attention but for now your cunt is mine.”

In one quick movement the client pulled Erin onto his erected dick skewering him. Erin felt a shot of electricity pulse through him. The client moved in and out of him. Erin couldn’t believe this was happening. He was being fucked by a man in HIS cunt!

“Fuck, you have a tight cunt.”

The client’s face grew redder as his rhythm increased. He came with such force that Erin was taken aback. Hot cum flooded inside of him. Dropping on top of Erin the client let out a spent sigh.

The client rested in Erin’s bed for the short time remaining in the session. He casually draped the robe over his body as he headed out the door. He never looked back at Erin but left him there full of cum.

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