Disclaimer:<br />This story is a work of fiction. Any names referenced in its writing that bear resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental. I only hope that more is written about male pregnancy/transgender pregnancy. Thank You and Enjoy.<br /><br /><br />Demon Surrogates<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span><br /><br /><br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>It’s a clear spring night outside the bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. Wallace’s windows. The warm spring air has just come in for the season, pushing out the frigid air brought about by winter. With their apartment almost ten stories above the city below, the bedroom window is wide open letting the nice air in. Mrs. Wallace is lying on their bed, lost in a deep sleep. Her blonde hair covers her pillow, while the covers are down enough to show the outline of the nipples, sitting on B-Cup breasts under her nightie. Even after 3 children, she still enjoys how her husband gives her tits a good licking/biting during their love making. Mr. Wallace is, of course, lying next to her in his own sleep. He’s roughly 6 ft, and stands taller than his wife’s 5 ft-3 in frame. He’s got brown hair, and just a hint of a stubble beard, per his wife’s liking.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>Mrs. Wallace, in her dreamy state, feels a pair of hands running up her body. Feeling the pair of hands, she fidgets ever so slightly, but keeps her eyes closed. She recognizes the rough hands feeling her up right now, as she thinks to herself that her husband had a frisky dream. It wasn’t at all uncommon for Mr. Wallace to want a good fucking after a sexy dream, and the same to Mrs. Wallace as well.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>She keeps her eyes shut as she feels her husband’s hands slowly move up to her nightie-covered breasts, and starts to tease the nipples a bit. In only a few moments, she lets out a moan, unable to resist the urge. Almost instantly, her husband flips her from her side to her back, and clamps his mouth over hers in a deeply passionate kiss. Mrs. Wallace returns the kiss, with fervor, and opens her mouth to let in his tongue. Eagerly, he sticks his tongue in her mouth, and makes contact with her tongue. The contact alone is enough to sent electricity through both lovers. Mr. Wallace breaks their kiss, kisses her cheek, then takes her ear into his mouth, tonguing it in the process. One of the advantages to being married for so long is you always know what gets your husband’s/wife’s juices flowing, and for Mrs. Wallace, this was a big one. She grabs the back of his head, and urges him to continue. Enjoying the slow torture going on with her ear, she reaches for his rock hard dick, and starts to stoke it through his boxers.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>“Hmmm, aren’t you two just a pair,” a distinctly female voice calls. The two of them stop immediately, and look over to see a hooded figure sitting in the chair directly across the bed. “Ohh, I’m sorry, I was just enjoying the scene, please continue,” the figure insists, with its legs crossed. It’s Mrs. Wallace who starts up again, stroking her husband’s still hard dick through his boxers, and Mr. Wallace moves to the other ear, and starts to work on it. As he bites at the earlobe, then sticks his tongue in her ear, her moans egg him on. At the same time, the little voice in his head that’s saying, “Wait, there’s somebody weird in your house, and watching you make love to your wife,” is shrinking quickly until it plays no part in the decision making process.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>Mrs. Wallace, letting go of her husband’s tool, brings her hands up to his face, and brings him in for another deep, passionate kiss. As they tongue wrestle, spit dribbling out the side of their mouths, the hooded figure starts stroking itself, a large red cock pointing out from the black robe. The robe is hiked up, to allow better access by the figure, and has it’s muscular female legs on display. As Mrs. Wallace breaks the kiss, “Come on hon, let me suck the cum out of you.” Needing no other further encouragement, Mr. Wallace lets his wife have her way. She rolls him onto his back, and practically tears off his boxers to get at his 6in dick, hard and ready. She starts by licking the head, almost like a lollipop, savoring its taste. She uses her free hand to play with his balls, eliciting a groan of approval from her husband. She runs her tongue up and down his prick, making it shine with her spit. She slowly makes her way back to the tip of his dick, savoring every pulsing vein in his weapon. She takes him into her mouth, and deep throats her lover’s dick, enjoying every sensation it gives her. She keeps bobbing her head on his tool, having ever intention to taste his cum on her tongue. His face scrunches up, and she can feel his dick get bigger in her mouth as it gets ready to shoot its treat into her belly.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>“That’s enough of that now. I’ll be the first on to cum tonight love birds,” the hooded figure calls out again. Almost on cue, Mrs. Wallace backs off her husband’s dick, leaving him frustrated at the lack of cumming. The hooded figure no longer has a hood, actually, it no longer has any clothes at all. It’s quite obviously a woman, just a red one, almost demonic. The horns atop her head prove the point. Atop the chest of the creature sit a pair of impressive D-cup breasts, but that’s not the surprising thing. Where there should be a cunt on this demon, there is in fact an 8 in cock, hard and ready to go. As the demon walks over to the couple, Mrs. Wallace speaks, “Have something particular in mind dear?” Smiling at the obvious invitation, the demon responds, “Ohh, you have no idea. On your back slut, I’m going to stretch you farther than you’ve ever been before.” Pushing her husband out of the way, Mrs. Wallace spreads her legs wide, “Cum and get me you hung stud!!” The demon takes it’s cock in hand, and slowly sinks it’s girth into the tight cunt of Mrs. Wallace. Mr. Wallace idly jacks himself, trying to get off on his wife fucking another man…..or whatever it is. “Come on you stud, bottom out in me. I want to feel your head at me womb.” The demon leans down to kiss Mrs. Wallace, and the creatures tongue snakes out, and massages he tongue, making her body shudder from the feeling. <br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>At last, the demon bottoms out in her cunt, “Hehe, I think you’ll do nicely my dear.” Being so stuffed full of cock, more than she ever had before, she was unable to respond, her mouth gaping from the shear feeling alone. “Now, you’ll get a treat. Hubby, get up here and treat my breasts.” Almost in a trance, he does as he’s told, and moves on top of his wife, and starts to lick and bite the demon’s breasts. Surprisingly, as soon as he does this, Mrs. Wallace starts to lick, and tongue her husband’s asshole. Mr. Wallace moans into the demon’s breasts at the new feeling. Feeling satisfied, the demon starts to fuck the cunt it’s buried in. It starts slowly at first, enjoying the vice its dick was in. Soon enough however, nature takes over, and it starts to ram it into her, like an engine piston. Mrs. Wallace breaks off eating her husband’s ass, “FUCK ME YOU STUD!!!! OHH GOODDD!!!!!” Her cries ring out as her entire body tenses up, and her back arches as her orgasm ripples through her entire being. Simultaneously, a high pitched wail rings out, more animal than human, as the demon lets loose it’s pent up load into her willing, and eager cunt. Hr. Wallace feels the creatures breasts tense up, and the muscles contract as its own orgasm ripples through its body.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>After both come down from their high, the demon’s prick is still rock hard. “Okay, one down, one to go.” Pointing to Mr. Wallace, she instructs him, “Eat her out, and it better be good.” Pulling back from its sex partner, the demon pulls it’s dick from the cunt, leaving a small trail of cum along the way. Eagerly, Mr. Wallace dives into his wife’s well-fucked cunt, savoring the flavor. Unknown to him, there’s now a tattoo on his wife’s belly, a sign of things to come, but he’s not coherent enough to notice. As the husband starts eating out her husband, the demon slaps the globes of his ass, “Hmmm, it’ll be a tight fit, but it’ll do,” the demon remarks. The creature takes its hands, and spreads his cheeks, exposing his asshole, shiny from his wife’s attention. The creature takes its dick, well lubed from all the juices, and pushes into Mr. Wallace’s asshole. Through gritted teeth, the creature slowly pushes past through all his internal resistance. Mr. Wallace keeps eating out his wife, his hands twisting and turning the sheets in agony as his once normal asshole is stretched beyond capacity. When the demon finally bottoms out, even Mr. Wallace is surprised at how good it feels to be so full of dick. Seeing Mr. Wallace settle down, the demon gives his ass a good slap, “I knew you’d love it slut. You’ll love what comes later too.” The demon pulls out of Mr. Wallace’s ass-cunt, and pumps it back in, getting a groan from the person the ass-cunt is attached to. The demon slowly gets a rhythm going fucking the hell out of Mr. Wallace.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>Meanwhile, Mrs. Wallace can’t get enough of her cunt getting eaten. It’s already one of her weaknesses as it is. Her mouth is hanging open, drool dripping down her mouth, unable to scream for the feeling coming from her well-used cunt. She’s gripping her breasts, and tweaking her nipples, but that’s all she can do right now it seems. The creature picks up its pace, trying to pump its load into its next vessel tonight. Mr. Wallace’s dick is steel, and has a trail of pre-cum dripping onto the bedspread, begging to be touched. In an instant, Mr. Wallace feels the weapon in his ass get larger, and he knows what’s coming. The animal like creams of the creature can be heard as it pumps it’s cum deep into his ass. At the same time, his own dick starts it’s spewing and every muscle in his body contracts as his own orgasm hits, like a freight train. During his orgasm, his asshole tightens, creating a tighter vice around the creatures cock, encouraging it to cum more.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>After the demon has finished it’s cum spray of Mr. Wallace’s inside, it collapses on all fours, unable to move for some time. Eventually, the demon gets up, and once again sits in the same chair it had occupied earlier. “Damn, I need to visit all of you more often, that was one good fuck. Now, next to your wife slut!” Mr. Wallace struggles to take his place next to his wife. Unknown to him, he now also has a tattoo on his belly, similar to the one his wife now has. The creature, smiling at them, “Now, for the fun part.” With that, the demon snaps its fingers, and the marks on each of their belly glow a red color. Immediately after, they feel it. The telltale stirring of life within their bodies. Mrs. Wallace is familiar with it having been the mother to three children. Mr. Wallace, however, is not so familiar with pregnancy, nor one quite like this.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>In an instant, both their bellies swell to sizes reflecting the children they will soon bear. They both start screaming, not so much in pain as in surprise, as they both witness each other’s growth around their midsection. Oddly enough, both their eyes are on Mr. Wallace, who has never swelled to the size he is now. His slightly hairy belly started to look like he had a beer-belly, but they knew better than that. As it got bigger, Mr. Wallace could feel it moving, like a woman would a normal child, except there was nothing normal about this child. He gripped his growing belly as it expanded to sizes he never thought possible for a man.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>In a matter of minutes, both husband and wife looked to be full term, and they both knew it when they each felt the urge to push. For Mrs. Wallace, it was nothing new, having given birth to three children before, but for Mr. Wallace, it was terrifying to say the least. He felt the urge to take a shit, and then a searing pain in his asshole. Almost be instinct, he pulled his knees to his chest, trying to get the thing inside him out.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>The demon appeared at Mr. Wallace’s side, “You know, I never tire of seeing men giving birth to my bastard children through their asshole. I guess it’s something about men that excite me.” The demon child’s head appeared at the man’s asshole, just a little red skin visible. The creature smiling at seeing this, “Come on now, it’s just like taking a shit. Besides, I was kind to you after all, I could have knocked you up without stretching your ass on my pole.” With his wife’s cries of pain next to him, he let his own out as his anal cavity was stretched to accommodate the body of the brat in his belly.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>“Ohhh, the head’s out hubby,” the creature said clapping its hands proudly, “Now for the rest slut.” Screaming at the top of his lungs, he pushed out the rest of the creature’s offspring out onto the bed covers. Clapping loudly, the demon speaks again, “Very well done hubby. And look at that, your asshole is so big I thing I could fits a few fists up there. Hehe, it kind of gives a new name to the ‘Grand Canyon’ joke doesn’t it. Ohh, and your wife gave birth perfectly. I’d expect nothing less from a woman after all.” With Mr. Wallaces asshole gaping and bloody with the child on the sheets wining, and the same for his wife’s cunt and her child, the creature takes both children. “Well, it’s been fun, and thanks for the kids. Who knows, I may want more eventually.” As it turns around to leave, it makes one last remark, “I almost forgot, I come from a big family, and there are a lot of relatives that might want to start a family. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll give them you address, just in case.” With that, the creature leaves, leaving both Mr. and Mrs. Wallace a mess, covered in cum, blood, and afterbirth.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre"> </span>With the rise of the sun, Mr. and Mrs. Wallace wake up to everything the way it was. “Wow, that was one weird dream,” Mrs. Wallace remarks. Mr. Wallace responds, “Hmm, you mean a demon and getting knocked up and all.” Wide eyed, they look at each other. Mrs. Wallace finally says something, “That’s awesome. I don’t think we’ve ever had the same dream before.” Making light of it, Mr. Wallace agrees. He gets up to go to the bathroom. In just a few seconds, Mrs. Wallace hears him screaming. “SARAH, GET IN HERE!!!” Mr. Wallace screams. Mrs. Wallace hurriedly runs into the bathroom, “Honey, What is ….” she stops mid sentence as she sees the still obvious tattoo on her husband’s belly. Almost instantly, she lifts up her nightie to see the same on her belly. Both were speechless to say the least, but they were completely terrified when they discovered the same tattoo on the bellies of their three children as well.<br /><br /><br /><br />THE END<br /><br />email@example.com<br /><br />All feedback/comments/ideas would be greatly appreciated.
<p>1.45 AM, on a Wednesday morning. Not my favourite time to finish work but, the new server was up and running and I didn’t have to be back in until 2 PM, this afternoon.</p><p>I drove at a leisurely pace, well aware of the many speed cameras along this stretch of the A12, my only fellow road users were Dutch and Polish Lorries on their way to Harwich or Felixstowe. I was singing along to an old Beatles song on the radio, when I saw her walking alongside the road.</p><p>She looked beautiful. Mid 20’s, at a guess. She had a slim waif like body and wearing an old fashioned hippy afghan coat. Her face looked unearthly and ethereal; a consequence of the cool night air and the yellow sodium street lights. I pulled over beside her and opened the window. “Hi. Are you OK? Do you want a lift somewhere?” She smiled and wordlessly got into my car.</p><p>In the overhead light I could see she had a lovely shock of auburn hair framing a heart-shaped face and delicate Elvin features. “You know, it’s very late. It’s not safe to hitch, especially here. We must be half a mile from the nearest house” Her hand reached out and rested on mine. Once again she smiled at me, but didn’t say a word. A truck whistled past, barely clearing my wing mirror. This wasn’t a good place to park.</p><p>I put the car in gear and started to move off “So, where are you headed? I turn off in a few miles. I go up the A133 toward Clacton. I could take you home if it’s not too far out of the way” No answer, the car was silent except for the sound of the purring engine “Shall I turn the radio up?” She shook her head, and then she indicated the slip road for the A120 and spoke for the first time “Here”</p><p>You want me to turn off here? Ok, how far are we going? Coggeshall? Braintree? You’re not heading for Stanstead, are you?” “No. Turn here”</p><p>I followed the road for 3 more miles in silence, until we reached a lay-by, screened by trees from the main road, just past Coggeshall. “Here. Turn in” she said</p><p>We pulled in to an utterly dark lay-by. No streetlights made it through the trees. When I turned off the engine there was only the light from the muted radio, and the moon. Her hand grabbed my leg and ran up my thigh “Emm; you don’t need to do this. I didn’t pick you up for sex. I just thought you needed……………..” Her mouth covered mine. Her hand was in my crotch kneading my rapidly expanding erection. She climbed over the gear stick and put her knee between my legs. Her hungry lips seized mine and she urgently started to remove her coat. She shrugged it off and threw it on the passenger seat. Her blouse soon followed and her bra too. She grabbed my head and forced my face down to her chest.</p><p>I started to gently kiss and lick her nipples and she started to gasp and moan. She seemed desperate for sex, a ravenous nymph. She pulled her nipple away from my mouth and her hands fumbled at my belt buckle and trousers. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me now” “Hold on a minute” I said, “hold on. STOP” Her hand stopped trying to pull my trousers down. A few seconds passed as I gathered my confused thoughts. “Look, I stopped because I thought you needed a lift. Nothing else. You are very beautiful and I would love to make love to you, but this is just so….. Sordid” “You don’t want to fuck me?” she asked. She seemed sad, almost distessed. “No. Yes… but let’s be nice to each other. I can take you back to my flat; we could have a drink, talk a little” “No" she spoke bitterly "It has to be here”</p><p>“I could take you home afterwards or you could stay the night” I pleaded “No, it has to be here. Now. I feel alive here”. I glanced around at the lay-by. On one side was a farmer’s field. On the other side was the Coggeshall road. Not my idea of a romantic spot. But….. “Ok” I said, “if you want, but just a bit slower, OK?” I lowered the passenger seat and laid her back. My hand slid up her tummy and gathered her small breast, brushing her nipple with my thumb. Her skin was cold in the morning air, and I turned the heating on. I leaned over her to kiss her lips passionately as my hands started to slowly undo her jeans. She had gone from ravenous wolf to passive doe in a few minutes, but I could feel her passion still bubbling under the surface as her tongue slipped into my mouth and caressed mine. She lifted her bottom, to help me take off her jeans and I could see a wild tangle of red pubes covering her pudenda. I slid my hand through the wiry bush and she parted her legs to allow me access to her wet, slippery hole.</p><p>I moistened my middle finger in her pussy and ran it over the hardened bud of her clitoris. She moaned and lifted one leg, placing her foot on the dashboard opening her labia wider still. My tongue traced a path down here body, kissing her neck, lingering on the erect bud of one nipple. Slowly I traced a path over her perfect flat tummy; delving into her pretty navel. I lingered on her bush, inhaling the heady erotic aroma of sweat and sex pheromones and something….. earthy. I moved lower. My tongue flicked over her clit, and I felt her muscles tighten in her womb. I moved lower my tongue delved into her vagina and I moved my left hand over her bush, middle finger now massaging her clit I could feel her enjoyment as her pussy and tummy muscles began to clench. My right hand went under her buttocks and I began to work my index finger into her vagina. She moaned and her pussy muscles grabbed my finger. “Please” she said “fuck me now” I could not refuse a lady. I grabbed a condom from my glove compartment and awkwardly mounted her on the passenger seat. Her pussy was gloriously wet, slippery and tight. I could feel her stomach muscles rippling beneath me and she started to make ‘hunnnnh hunnnnh’ noises. As she came, her orgasm was beautiful to behold; it was glorious, reckless, loud, wild and unrestrained. Her reaction tipped me over the edge and I felt a small piece of heaven as I ejaculated uncontrollably. I lay over her, kissing her lips and enjoying the moment.</p><p>“You are gorgeous, utterly utterly gorgeous. I want to see you again. This cant end here” I moved to allow her some room. I reached down to retrieve my trousers. At some point I had lost my mobile phone. I looked under the driver’s seat and soon found it. Coming up, I said “Look, I don’t even know your….” She had gone I had not even heard the car door I drove along the road… a mile left. I turned around and drove a mile in the other direction and stopped to think. She must have walked into Coggeshall, or gone across the field. Dejectedly, I drove home. </p><p>It was three months before I saw her again. I was browsing Yahoo News, on the internet, and recognised her beautiful Elvin face and the copper coloured hair, immediately. She was on yahoo News, with the headline: ‘Body found in Essex field’ ‘The body of a 26 year old girl has been found in a shallow gave, in a farmers field, 42 years after she was first reported missing. The girl has been identified as Sarah-Ann Carter, who disappeared after attending the Isle of Wight festival in 1969. The Discovery has rocked the community in the sleepy village of Coggeshall, Essex…..</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
Note: The following story is a work of fiction. <br /> <br /> <br />I used to think that there was only one kind of vampire that could possibly exist. I was wrong. Vampires do exist and there’s more than one kind of vampire in the world. There are vampires who can walk in the daylight and vampires who only lurk around at night; vampires who are allergic to garlic and vampires who aren’t; vampires who can turn into bats and vampires who cannot; etc. <br /> <br />My name is Quentin Sanders, by the way, and this is the story of how I got bitten by a vampire who only drank warm blood from her lovers. <br /> <br />I am not a vampire now because the vampire who bit me was one of those vampires who can only pass on their "disease" by giving their blood to others to ingest, and I did not ingest any of her blood. <br /> <br />For that, I am grateful to her because, even though she drank about a liter of my blood, she spared me my mortal life, free of blood-thirst. I don’t even want to think of what it would be like to be a vampire, having to go out and hunt for human blood in order to satisfy an immortal craving. Yes, I’ve heard about how some vampires make do without human blood by feeding off animals, but hey, why take the risk? And some vampires can only drink human blood and nothing else! <br /> <br />I first laid eyes on this vampire two months ago. She had just moved to our street and into the house next door to the one I lived in…. <br /> <br />——— <br /> <br />I wake up one Saturday morning and realize that I’ve been woken up from my sleep by this annoying scraping sound coming from outside my bedroom window. I look outside and I see this little woman pulling a large box behind her, making her way to the front door of the house next door. Damn! I think to myself, that must be very stressful on her small physique. What do I do? I rush out of my bedroom and out of my house, wasting only enough time to put on a pair of work shorts and a t-shirt. <br /> <br />I come up behind her and say, "Need a hand with that?" She turns around to see me and she smiles. She says, "I can manage, but if it will make you feel better, then sure, I could use a hand." I smile back and lift the box from the bottom end, while she lifts it from the top end. We’re both able to carry the box into the front door of the house and set it down in the kitchen, without making any more of that annoying scraping sound. <br /> <br />"What’s in this box?" I ask her. She answers, "My refrigerator." "Oh, do you need help taking it out of the box and setting it in the right place in the kitchen here? I don’t mind, really." She thinks for a while, weighing factors that are unknown to me, then she looks straight into my eyes and I’m hit by some strange…thing, I don’t know what, but she seems to have probed past my defenses and it’s like she can see all my hidden motives and intentions. She finally says, "As long as you don’t go telling everyone about my refrigerator, I will let you help me." I sigh, then shrug and say, "Pshh. It’s just a refrigerator. Why would I want to tell other people about some household appliance, unless it can do something really cool like teleport you into another dimension?" She laughs and seems to relax a bit. <br /> <br />I tell her, "By the way, you look Asian, but I don’t know which country you come from." She tells me, "I’m from the Philippines. I came to this country when I was a teenager." Figures, I think to myself. She’s got the height, or the lack of it; the facial structure, and long, shiny, black hair. As we open the box and slide the refrigerator out, I ask her how old she is and she tells me that she’s thirty. I think and tell her that she looks as if she were only in her early twenties. She blushes and says thank you. We both move the large refrigerator to the corner of the kitchen, near the entrance to the dinning room. <br /> <br />"What’s your name?" she asks me. I say, "Quentin Sanders. What’s yours?" She says, "June Santiago. How old would you be?" "Thirty two." "Cool." Then I notice the refrigerator and say, "Wow! This doesn’t look like a refrigerator. It looks more like a big luxurious… casket for something, I don’t know." The refrigerator is a rich maroon in color, with gold plating on the edges of the doors. It looks so polished and new. June has a worried look on her face. I notice it and say, "But, it’s just a refrigerator after all, and I guess it can’t beam me up to the mothership, now can it?" She relaxes again and says, "No, but it’s really nice inside. Sometimes I just want to get inside, shut the door behind me, and just sleep in the cold. I don’t do that, really, it’s just a fantasy of mine." She smiles nervously. "Right," I say, trying not to sound suspicious. "Well, is there anything else that you need my help in moving?" "No," she says, "I’ll have everything inside before eight o’clock tonight. I work better in the night, for some reason." "Okay," I say and wish her a good day and tell her that it was nice meeting her. Then I leave for my place. <br /> <br />——— <br /> <br />I live alone. Most of the time, I am at my desk in the corner of the living room, on the internet because that’s where I work. I’m an online worker. I’m like an electronic salesman. I don’t work for any one company; different companies pay me a commission for the customers who buy their (the companies’) merchandise through me. <br /> <br />I’m chatting with a customer about the superiority of the GNS brand of car batteries to the HandyDuke’s brand, when the customer interrupts my stream of persuation with, "Thanks for helping me with the refrigerator this morning. Could I come over to your place for dinner? I’ll pay you for cooking. Oh, and sure, I’ll purchase a GNS battery for my car. Put the order in for me, please." I reply with, "Uh, wow! What a surprise! It would be my honor to have you over for dinner tonight, and you don’t have to pay for it. It would be my pleasure. What time? And, no problemo; I’ll put in the order for you. You should have the package delivered to your doorstep by Tuesday next week. I can have a mechanic replace your batteries for you, no extra fees applied." "Sweet! How about nine? And, thanks for offering mechanical assistance, but I should be able to handle that. I’ve spent a lot of time with my car so I know it inside-out and back-to-front." "Nine sounds fine! And thanks for purchasing. I feel like I’m definitely going to get a raise in my commission. Recently, I’ve been selling stuff like hot cakes." "Awesome! It’s no surprise to me because you’re really good at what you do. Have a nice day, Quentin, and see you at nine this evening." "Thanks, June. I’ll have something really good whipped up for us." <br /> <br />During the rest of that day, I sell a boat, three tool sets, a short science fiction story, a Shrek movie characters figurine set, and a box of innovative sex toys. All in all, business is good. <br /> <br />Late in the afternoon, I leave my desk to go put on some clothes that would be proper for walking around in the outside world. I exit the house, get in the car, and drive to the supermarket to buy some groceries for the night’s dinner. <br /> <br />———- <br /> <br />It’s nine in the evening and someone knocks on my door. I have dinner prepared on time and am glad that June is on time as well. I open the door and oggle her sexy, curvy body. She’s wearing a nice tight-fitting white dress that hangs low on her breasts, revealing a lot of cleavage, and only reaches down as far as her mid-thighs. Her hair is in a neat bun and she has make-up that makes her face look somewhat paler, or is that really make-up, I ask myself? I tell her, "You look so extremely beautiful, I was about to ask you if you had shown up at the wrong house. I don’t get a lot of gorgeous women knocking on my door." She smiles and says, "Thank you, Quentin. May I come in?" "Of course, please!" I open the door wider so she can enter. <br /> <br />We sit down at the dinner table and eat a delicious pork and vegetable dinner, which recipe I downloaded the other day from the internet. We sip some red wine once the meal has been finished, and retire to the sofa. We talk about all sorts of things such as my work, my leisure, my beliefs and ideals, and basically, my whole life. After a while, I notice that she now knows a lot about me and I still don’t know anything about her, other than what she told me that morning. I say, "Well, June, I feel like you know everything there is to know about me, and I hardly know anything about you. It seems rude on my part that I haven’t asked you a question about yourself. Plus, I also feel a bit vulnerable now that you have all this information about me and I don’t have any on you. Heck, we’re not enemy spies or anything like that; it’s just that I want to be fair." <br /> <br />She nods her head and tells me, "I understand how you feel. After everything you’ve told me, I think I can trust you. How about I make myself vulnerable to you, and at the same time, give you a lot of information about me? I can’t do that now, but if you’ll stop by my place, tomorrow at noon, you will have something of me to think about. Just come on over. The door will be unlocked. Go into the living room and there will be some things there for you to inspect. And don’t forget to bring a sharpened stake and a mallet." With that said, she puts a pale hand over mine and leans close to press her lips against mine. She gets up from the sofa and says, "Thank you for the wonderful dinner, Quentin. See you tomorrow or…" She smiles with a hint of sadness in her voice and turns, making her way to the door. I follow her and open the door for her. She goes down the steps and makes the turn to her house, looking back at me for the last time that night, smiling and crossing over to her front lawn. <br /> <br />——– <br /> <br />The next morning, I wake up at my normal time, around the seventh hour. The day proceeds normally, with me busy on my computer, selling things and making a living. Then noon approaches, and something bothers me. What is it? I remember, and I quickly sell whatever it is I am trying to sell – I think I just broke my own record for the fastest sell. <br /> <br />I go down into my basement and open a box that is clearly very old and hasn’t been opened in almost a decade. Inside this box is a bunch of old stuff I used to collect and play with when I was a kid. I take out two things from the box: a wooden stake and a mallet. Taking these, I go up to my bedroom, change into black trousers, a red shirt, and put on my grey shoes. I leave my house and walk over to June’s place. <br /> <br />The door is unlocked, just like she said it would be. I enter her house and close the door behind me. Walking into the living room, I see picture frames on the walls and tables. There are a lot of them. After looking at eight of the pictures, I notice that the time between the taking of these pictures is long, too long for a thirty-year-old woman like June, however, there she is in every one of them. Her style of clothing also changes with the time periods the pictures were taken in. She’s been around the world, not just the Philippines and my country, but also in other places such as Africa, Europe, other parts of Asia, South America, and the Poles, North and South. Not all the pictures are photographs; many of them are hand-drawn, and all these ones seem to have been done before the time of photography. <br /> <br />All these pictures, whether photographed or drawn, are dated, and the oldest date on these pictures is found on that of a woman – June, most likely – on a hill, on the outskirts of a village, sitting under a tree and posing in a way that the right side of her neck is exposed to the viewer. And on her neck is the unmistakable mark that would’ve been made by a pair of fangs. "Oh, shit!" I whisper to myself. On the floor, I see a message written with a thick black marker, on a white A4 sheet of paper, that reads, "Come into the kitchen, open the refrigerator, and brace yourself for whatever you may see." <br /> <br />My legs are weak now for some reason, but I will them to move as I make my way into the kitchen. There in the corner of the room is the maroon refrigerator. I steady myself, grip the mallet in my right hand and the stake in my left hand. I go to stand in front of the refrigerator, an arms length of distance between me and the household appliance. With my left hand, still holding the stake, I open the refrigerator door and quickly take a step back, with stake and mallet ready for action. I gasp at the sight of what is inside. <br /> <br />Cold, white air pours out of the interior of the refrigerator. Frost has encrusted the entire inner walls, but what sends a great shiver throughout my entire body is seeing June, standing upright and stiff, legs together, arms crossed over her upper torso, hands over her shoulders, head bowed down. Her hair and entire body (she’s naked) is white as a sheet of paper, covered in frost. She seems to be in a sleep so deep that her chest isn’t rising and falling from breathing. She could be dead! Then I think to myself, why did she ask me to bring the mallet and stake along? Did she want me to kill her, on finding out that she was a vampire? No. Last night, She had told me that she would be seeing me again. But she had ended that statement with the word "or." What am I to do now? <br /> <br />Then I remember something else she had said the other night. The whole reason for this, for me being here today at this time was so that I could learn some things about her and she would be vulnerable to me. This is what she meant. Now that I know her secret, I know a lot more about her than any normal person should know. She is also, right now, very vulnerable in this state of hibernation or whatever condition she is in. The question is, again, what should I do, now that I know? <br /> <br />——— <br /> <br />It is late in the afternoon, and I have sold only one item since noon – a bottle of water. I’m thinking to myself, why would someone go online to buy a bottle of water? Why couldn’t they just go to a store nearby and purchase one, or even better, fetch a cup of water from the tap in their kitchen? I guess some people love attention so they’re willing to do the darndest things in order to get it. I probably shouldn’t be complaining about this, because it is those kind of people who comprise the majority of my customers. I log on to a chat room and discuss the most unworthy topics with people I know nothing about. <br /> <br />The night has come and I decide that two hours of chatting online will be enough for me today. I log off and close the web browser. It is time to eat, so I go to the kitchen to look for some stuff to put together for dinner. I hear a knock on my front door so I stop searching for food in my kitchen and go to stand before it. <br /> <br />I speak through the door so the person on the other side can hear me. "Who is it? If you’re a vampire, I’m sorry to tell you that I don’t give blood." June’s voice answers, "Quentin, it’s me. Could I talk to you?" I say, "Sure. I hope you don’t mind talking through the door because I’m a bit scared, after what I saw today at noon." She tells me, "Actually, I do mind talking through the door. Look, you don’t have to invite me in. I can talk to you while standing outside. I just want to be able to see you when I say what I have to say." I reply, "Uh. You don’t happen to have hypnotic eye powers do you? You can’t make me invite you in by telepathic suggestion?" She says, "Honestly, I do not have that ability, but there are other vampires who do. I can’t come in unless you invite me of your own free will." I consider what she just told me and everything that I currently know about her. "All right," I say, and I open the door. <br /> <br />I’m standing a meter away from the doorway and she’s standing half of that distance away from the doorway as well. She’s wearing a pink t-shirt and a black skirt that stops just above her knee. I’m wearing black boxers and a light blue singlet. In her right hand, she holds a mallet, and in her left hand, she holds a stake. I have nothing in my hands. She attempts a happy smile, but only reaches as far as a sympathetic one. Then she tosses the mallet and stake at my feet. <br /> <br />She says, "Thank you for opening the door and thank you for not using those on me today. You could’ve but you didn’t so I’m grateful." I tell her, "You’re welcome. Thank you for not sucking my blood the other night when you had the chance. Or maybe you’re just waiting for the right time, and if that’s the case, then it’s never." She smiles then gets serious and says, "You’re right – I am or was waiting for the right time. You see, unlike other vampires, I only drink blood from people who are willing. I’ve never forced myself onto anyone in all my four hundred and fifty three years of existence as a vampire." "Well, there’s a first time for everything, and I’m not going to be your first time for that." She looks sad and I feel terrible about what I’ve just said. Hang on, I say to myself, this lady is a creature who drinks the blood of other human beings, and you’re feeling sorry for her, after you’ve turned her down? What is wrong with you? <br /> <br />She attempts to brighten up her sad facial expression, but fails, and says, "All right, well, thanks for the brief friendship. I enjoyed it. I’ll try to find someone else to satisfy my thirst; someone willing." I nod my head in agreement. She bids me good night and leaves. <br /> <br />———- <br /> <br />Three days later, I see June bring a man into her home. He’s tall and handsome and seems totally infatuated by her. An hour later, I hear a loud slap, a few seconds later, the man almost runs out of her house and gets into his car, driving away at high speed. It is plain to me that she must’ve popped the question and his answer was "no." June comes out of her house and looks out at the street, maybe wishing him to come back. She turns back to her house, and I see a big red mark on the left side of her pretty face. "Aw shit, June!" I utter softly as I see her walk sadly back to her home. <br /> <br />That evening, around eight o’clock, I ring the doorbell at June’s house. She opens the door and I see her face. I say, "Wow! I didn’t know vampires could heal like that!" What should have been a blackened and bruised left side of her face isn’t blackened or bruised. She has healed completely and in record-breaking time too. "Do you have a special vampire’s-only lotion for that or do you simply command yourself to heal?" She hasn’t heard a word I’ve said because she’s staring at me with her mouth wide open. Oh and I forgot to mention to you, the reader, that I’m standing stark naked in front of this woman’s front doorway. I ask her, "May I come in?" She swallows and opens the door wider for me to enter. <br /> <br />I go to stand in the middle of the living room. She locks the door and turns to see me. She notices what I’ve got on my neck. It’s a temporary tattoo of a black-lined rectangle with the words, "Sink fangs into here," printed inside. She laughs and laughs. Soon she can’t stand so she laughs and stumbles to the nearby couch, clutching her stomach as she goes into a fit. Now I wish I brought the stake and mallet with me. Here I am, offering myself to her, and all she can do is laugh her head off. I turn towards the door, but after I’ve taken one step, something hits me softly in the head and gets stuck there. I pull it off and look at it. It’s a pair of underwear. Turning, I see June on the couch. She’s taking off her bra and flinging that at me as well. Her other clothes are on the floor. Now she’s naked and she parts her legs wide enough for me to see clearly that junction between her thighs. She plays with her pussy, hidden by black fuzz. My cock becomes erect and she smiles at that. <br /> <br />She gestures for me to go to her, and I obey the unvoiced command. Standing before her, she tells me, "I’m going to enjoy you first, before I suck your blood. I can already smell it, warm and fresh. Mmmm!" She grabs my dick and pulls, causing me to step closer to her. She grabs my ass with both hands and takes my cock, deep into her mouth. I stand and groan with pleasure before her as she works her mouth on my penis. She takes my right hand and places it on her head. I realize what she wants me to do, and so, I run my fingers through her unbelievably, soft, silky hair, rubbing her scalp and the back of her neck, at intervals. <br /> <br />Damn! Her tongue swerves around my penis’s head and shaft like a slick serpent. I gently push her head further against my dick until I can feel her chin moving against my balls. She continues to suck my cock expertly and also strokes the area where my balls connect to my body. Then she takes her mouth off my cock and gives me a rapid, mean handjob. I sense that my balls and cock are ready to unload so I tell her, "It’s coming." Just as I am about to explode, she opens her mouth around the tip of my penis, and I shoot gooey, white strings of semen into her oral cavity while she continues to jerk me off. <br /> <br />She swallows my ejaculated fluid and looks up at me, showing her mouth, empty of white ooze. I am pleased and caress her face. She smiles and goes back to toying with my cock. She pulls back my foreskin and sucks the bare head. "Oohh! Yeah!" I say, shutting my eyes in extreme ecstasy. She flicks her tongue over the area where my pulled-back foreskin borders with the head of my penis. I utter a moan of approval and pleasure. Then she completely envelopes my penis head with her mouth and sucks it like a lollipop. "Oh, gosh!" I say. My hands are trembling because of the strong sensations she’s making me feel due to her attention on my dick. I dig my fingers into her hair, massaging the sides of her head and moving my "lollipop" around inside her mouth. Her lips and tongue make smacking suction sounds on my penis head as she works wonders on it. I look down at her and she looks back up at me, smiling as she continues to make those titillating sound effects on my body. <br /> <br />After I’ve ejaculated the second time into her mouth, I push her back against the couch so she’s sitting up straight. Then I part her thighs, holding her legs in my arms, and bring my waist against hers. I try to insert my penis into her cunt, but I miss on the first two tries. She giggles and reaches down to guide my cock into her pussy. Third time’s the charm; my dick goes in, and I am now sexually penetrating a vampire woman’s vagina. Both of us say, "Mmmm!" and I begin thrusting into her. She wraps her arms around my waist and looks down at my cock as it moves back and forth into her pussy. I continue to run my fingers through her hair and massage her scalp as I fuck her on the couch. After five minutes, we both lay on our sides and I continue to ram my cock into her cunt, but now she’s also meeting my onslaught with her own perfectly timed and maneuvered thrusts. I say, "June, you’re really really good at this." She replies, "Four centuries of experience, baby." <br /> <br />She ejaculates and soon after, I do so as well. I ask her, "Does this mean you’re going to get pregnant?" She shakes her and and says, "No. I’m on birth control." "So you can have children?" "Yes, but I’ve decided not to. Are you disappointed in me?" "No. It’s your choice." "Thank you." She stops thrusting and I stop as well, but we remain connected. We cuddle and kiss each other for a long while, then she asks, "May I suck your blood now? I’m really thirsty." I tell her, "Yes, you may. Just don’t drain me completely. I need blood to survive too, you know." She chuckles and kisses me. Then I turn my neck to her and she kisses the tattooed area, then sinks her fangs into the designated spot. <br /> <br />What I feel now is a sensation of pleasure, different from the sexual variety. It feels like ejaculation, except instead of your body pushing something out, something is being drawn out from you by an outside force. Because of this sensation and my losing of blood, I feel high. I also feel numb and paralyzed. I sense that June also knows how I’m feeling, and even more so. She knows that I will soon be feeling disconnected from reality and even dejected, as a result of what she’s doing to me. She caresses me and moves her hands lovingly all over my body while she drinks my red nectar. I distantly feel her hand take my hand and put it between her thighs, then she pushes all four of my fingers into her cunt and gently, but thoroughly, fucks her pussy on my digits. It’s working. This woman knows what she’s doing because I feel myself coming back from the realm of dejection. The sensations I’m getting through my neck and hand become stronger and I feel like I’m coming back to first person mode, rather than being a far away spectator staring through fog. Oh, her sucking of my blood is so divine and her hand-fucking herself with my hand is nothing short of brilliant! I’m feeling it all now, one hundred percent aware and there. <br /> <br />I still can’t move or do anything other than breathe, but I can feel my body and it feels fucking great! Finally, I feel her fangs withdraw from my neck. She licks the blood that oozes out of those two holes she made along my carotid artery and places a bandaid over it. In ten seconds, I’ve dozed off with her arms and legs wrapped around my body. <br /> <br />——- <br /> <br />I wake up and it is the morning of the next day. I’m still naked, but I’m in a comfortable bed, with a warm blanket over my body. I feel so cozy. Wait! This isn’t where I usually wake up! Where am – Oh! I remember. I sigh and relax. <br /> <br />Five minutes later, June walks into the room. She’s not naked. She’s wearing a long, white night shirt. Good for her. She smiles and says, "I’ve got some breakfast ready in the kitchen. You might want to have some clothes on before you leave. Do I have your permission to go into your house and get some clothes for you?" I reply, "Yes, you have my permission." I think she can read my thoughts through her special blood-sensing abilities because she says, "Hmm. Someone’s feeling down today and their blood is telling me that there’s only one way they can feel better." She smiles and pulls off her night shirt, dropping it on the floor. Naked, she gets into bed with me and we make love for an hour and a half, ending up feeling so tired that, after we shower and have breakfast, we go back to bed and sleep until noon. <br /> <br />THE END
The room was stark and bleak, yet the air seemed warm. A little too warm it seemed for the the absence of anything resembling a source of the heat. The floor boards were raw, unstained, and looked like they had been fervently scrubbed many times over. Alone in the middle of the room was a large bed with four rusty bed posts. The girl was still shaking from the scalding bath she had just endured from the cold blank elderly blind women. After the searing bath she had been lead naked to this room and locked inside. The girl approached the bed with apprehension. It seemed a little too inviting. The mattress was covered with a blood red satin sheet that shimmered in the dark lighting of the room. She reached out, her hand still trembling, and felt the covering. It was so smooth and fine. It felt like warm butter as her hand slid gently across it. Cautiously she lowered her naked body down upon it. The girl felt the the warm sheet slide across the back side of her exposed thigh. There was only one pillow and the girl instinctively reached out for it as if the comfort it could bring would change everything she had been through. The girl hugged the pillow to her breast and stroked her face across it like a little girl with her favorite teddy bear that would make all the bad things go away. Her eyes grew heavy as she spread her body across the mattress as she lapsed into something between sleep and dream. <br /> <br />She never fully regained consciousness when she felt the small soft hand slide across the back of her calf. The girl couldn’t remember how much time had passed since the bath, and her strange acceptance of the warm soft bed. The small hand continued to slide slowly and gently up her leg. The girl’s legs were slightly apart and she was laying face down with her head turned to one side, half buried in the pillow she was clutching. As the hand slid upward it arched downward between her legs just above her knee. Her head seemed to swim in an ocean of half inky consciousness that she could not shake away. Her actions were dictated by the small soft hand that slowly glided up and between her legs. She instantly, with total absence of free will, ever so slightly, was bending one leg, opening the gap between her legs. Her pelvis pushed upward just a little as if, on its own, to invite the hand to continue. Why was she doing this? The girl thought. Why could she not bring herself fully awake. She wanted to sit up to see who belonged to this strange touch that seemed to dictate her every movement. <br /> <br />The hand felt so small and was now inside her thigh slowly approaching the spot it seemed to be seeking. It lingered, slowly drawing small circles across the creamy softness of her thigh with small fingers. What was happening? The girl’s head swirled this way and that trying to remember how she had gotten here. How she had ended up in this dream world. Her body controlled by this person she could not see. At the first touch of a tiny finger on the soft folds of her exposed vagina, the girl realized she was wet. She also realized as the probing fingers slid softly around the area that she had been shaved completely of any pubic hair. When this had happened she could not say. She did not remember the brutal old ladies who had scrubbed and abused her doing this. When she felt the first finger slide inside her she slightly regained some concentration. But it seemed only for the purpose of opening herself up a little more so the small finger might slide deeper. <br /> <br />The girl was dripping wet now as she felt the finger work it’s way in and out of her. On the next inward thrust two, no, three fingers entered her. The girl’s body withered in a state of denial and ecstasy that she could not control. Why was she allowing this to happen? Why could she not confront the person this tiny hand belonged to, that was penetrating her body, and yes, also her mind. It became clear to her at that moment who was in control here, of the situation, of her body….all of it. Her mind reeled and her body withered and arched as a thumb softly pushed against her clit. <br /> <br />Her body was owned plain and simple. Her movements in control of someone unseen! The girl’s hips pivoted upward to accept more of the penetrating invasion inside her. It seemed her body wanted more. It thirsted for it. The pumping motion of the small soft hand grew faster. The wetness of the girl’s cunt dribbled down her thigh. She gasped as the small hand clenched into a fist and fully slid inside her. The owner of the hand let her fingers unfurl as it moved back and forth in a circular motion. She felt the fingers sliding, probing the inside walls of her pussy. Then in one brilliant explosion the fingers found the spot they were seeking. The girl was facing downward on her stomach pressing her face into the pillow, with somebody behind her, their hand fully inside her. She was sopping wet, and could feel the wet sheet beneath her as she withered around in uncontrolled orgasm. The girl was now totally on her knees with her chest pressed flat against the mattress. Her nipples were swollen hard and she could feel them rubbing across the soaked sheets. She felt like a whore with her ass in the air wanting more and more of this obscenity. Then she heard a small giggle from behind her as the orgasm faded. Yes it was definitely a feminine hand and soft laughter, she knew that now. <br /> <br />The girl felt the hand slide out of her, the controlling presence in her mind also seemed to recede. Frantic, she sat up, clutching the pillow to her breast and swollen nipples. The girl turned to see who or what was doing this to her. To her horror her eyes fell on the small form of a young pale girl. The pale girl wore an old tattered looking Victorian dress, sagging white tattered stockings, and small black shoes with one large buckle on each. She had long black greasy looking hair, with bangs that seemed to be trying to hide her face. The small girl continued to giggle, as the older girl looked in fear as a pasty white face, with red glowing eyes, peered at her from under the hair. The ghastly looking small pale girl brought the hand that had, just seconds before violated the girl, to her mouth and started to lick the slippery orgasm from it, giggling the whole time. She noticed that the small girl had horribly sharp yellowed teeth, that looked like they had been filed to a razor sharpness. The pale girl’s blood red eyes never once dropped her stare, and her giggle seemed to echo sickly in the older girl’s mind, as she continued to clean her hand. <br /> <br />The older girl sat feeling sick. The hand that clutched the pillow to her breast sagged, and once again her head swam as she felt the force of the little girls mind enter her. With a hiss the small girl, being satisfied she had thoroughly cleaned her hand, began to speak. â€œYou didn’t think we were finished did you?â€ the small girl said in a low screechy voice. â€œOh on the contrary, I’ve just begun. And I definitely want to play some moreâ€ the small girl hissed with a grin. â€œWhen I’m done you’ll know. Because there will be nothing left for me to take.â€ The older girl slouched onto her back with her legs spread wide. She rolled her head back and forth trying to shake the little girls mind from it. She screamed inside her head as her body ached for the violation she knew was coming. The ghostly pale girl ran all four fingers up through the folds of the older girl’s wet cunt and instantly brought it to her mouth. The older girl glanced up just in time to see the evil twist of a grin on the girl’s face just before she lowered it between her legs. Everything went sickly surreal for the older girl as she felt the small girl’s hand and tongue feverishly explore and violate her cunt. The older girl’s hips once more arched and began an up and downward motion. The girl’s tongue and fingers met every downward thrust of the older girl’s pelvis. And then she felt the tense strain begin to build and she knew the unwanted orgasm was only seconds away. She felt tears well up in her eyes but the controlling mind of the small girl would not allow a sound as the they rolled down her face. The older girl exploded with a white flash of blinding light in her mind, and a gushing orgasm between her legs. She felt the pale girl lap at her dripping orgasm like and animal licking the blood from a fresh kill. <br /> <br />The small girl stood on the bed, still in control of the girls mind, and grinned looking down at the older girl. The small girl reached up under her dress and pulled a pair of stained and tattered panties down her slender pale legs. The young girl tossed the panties to the floor and laughed as she knelt down and straddled the older girl’s head. She mounted the older girl’s mouth and began to ride back and forth. The older girl looked up in total submission and saw the blood red eyes roll back into the girl’s head. Unwillingly her tongue stroked and entered the pale girl’s baby smooth gash. It was cold and had a sweet sickly taste, with an overpowering smell, like old flowers from a funeral home. The young girl looked down and laughed as she feverishly grabbed at the older girl’s hair and pressed her face up between her legs, smearing a slippery wetness across it across her mouth. This went on and on until the young girl was positioned in a standing squat cradling the older girl’s head pressing it against her cunt controlling the older girl’s body and mind to frantically lick at her pale cold gash. Finally, in a hiss and screech, the little girl exploded in a gushing orgasm across the older girl’s face. <br /> <br />The young girl dropped the girl’s head on to the pillow and stood. The girl watched as orgasm dribbled down the inside of the young girl’s thigh. The small girl hissed â€œNow I m done with you, and there’s only one more thing I want.â€ Like a blur of darkness the small ghastly girl dropped to her knees and sank her needle sharp teeth in the girl’s throat. The older girl’s body was paralyzed as she felt the little girl feed from her jugular vein. She could feel something warm spray across her chest as the young girl gnawed at her flesh. The room began to spin and turn dark as the older girl’s last breath escaped between her lips.
The hooks on my back tore off my back and was upside down held up by the hooks in my genitals. Instead of blood coming out from balls strangely enough it cum again. When bodyâ€™s weight tore my genitals again was not bleeding it was cum spraying from everywhere â€“ this dream had altered everything real. I splash into round cesspool, swim to its edge as I get on the side, there were people who were not there before. Men had their dicks at my face. I quickly start sucking them, they were pissing in my mouth. A woman had her ass there and was shitting in the cesspool, pulls me by my ears and stuffs her shit into my mouth. I pull her down into the cess pool head down and fuck her. I turned to suck – I find a pair of balls, the cock was not there, it was cut off. Cum and piss were coming out through that hole. I move the woman away and climb out of the cess pool. When I was out everyone who was out of the cess pool dive into it. <br />I walked away at a distance from the cess pool I see a large empty cage with an open door. It could be real, at the same time not be. the door had self-locking mechanism, once closed could only be opened from inside. I get inside the cage close the doo.r The floor beneath the cage starts moving away and a hook holding the cage takes downwards into a dimly lit basement. <br />As I had learnt from all that what had happening to me, I knew I wound find plenty of dicks to suck and get fucked by. Surely enough it took only some time and I was sucking dicks coming through the narrow bars. I am pulled up my ass was fucked and turned to one side of the cage my cock was being sucked. Someone grabbed my balls and squeezed them through narrow bars. My balls were viciously squeezed by the hand which had grabbed them. I wanted it to stop yet again not stop, it was too much fun. <br />The scene fades away and find myself awake naked on my bed. I was wet. I was certain I was woken up. I get up from my bed and go in to shower. It was not water it was piss, vomit, liquified shit which was pouring down. Although I was enjoying it, I run out of my flat, run upstairs I was on that roof again (that I will explain in the second part), People were pissing and shitting and puking in a funnel which war right over bathroomâ€¦The men I looked admiringly I seduced them into fucking me hard. They took me away from the roof. For days I was with them, theyfucked during the nights. Found some more of them. Released returned to my flat, the paper said "slut kidnapped presumed dead" I was free to be with them. My cock exploded with joy!
Within a mansion where George Hearn was recently hired, a girl not quite living drifted toward him in the form of a mist. Lovely was her voice as she spoke to him and soon he followed her wispy though shapely form to the upper floor of the great house, pausing at the door which she said was her room, the very room where the tough old lady who was his boss place slept.
Come to me, she said.
He didn’t realize her words registered in his mind, not in the fabric of the air. “Where did you go,” he asked, “why can’t I see you anymore?”
The real me is on the other side of the door, and I am oh so lonely.
“But this is Ruth’s bedroom. Do you want to get me fired?”
Oh no, not for anything in the world. Don’t worry. She sleeps with Prince Valium. You’d have to shake her to wake her up.
“Are you sure?”
Absolutely, it’s perfectly safe.
“Can’t you at least come out?”
If only I could. Come to me, dear George.
That’s it, either he answers her summons or he doesn’t. He turned the knob, opening the door which was light enough, wondering if he was out of his mind. George saw two things on the quick: the first was a nude girl with her back to him, the second was the slack face of Ruth Kempter. Kempter had precedence. He shrank from the very idea of invading her bedroom, sticking out his neck as though for the headsman. He didn’t even want to think what would happen if she awakened. That thought was signed, sealed, and deep-sixed. Ruth lay on an enormous fourposter bed, the pink curtains fastened by tiebacks. Ornate lilies were carved into the dark wood. Her face was smooth for her advanced age and yet somehow forlorn, a lean trickle of saliva made a path from the corner of her loose mouth, wetting her weathered arm which supported her head on the pillow. She didn’t snore but the bedding over her stomach moved regular and slow. He exhaled not realizing that he’d been holding his breath.
George closed the entrance quietly; the latch, oiled and in sound condition, slid into place.
Now he could afford to devour the girl. Lord have mercy she was beautiful. Her hair had a resplendence that was very close to glistening gold, a cascade of curls offset by other streams cut in a seemingly random pattern, though no hair was out of place. She stood very still in her splendor. Three gallery lights, angled from above in their tracks, illuminated her so attentively that the rest of the room appeared dead by comparison. He ignored all but her, and although she was not completely washed by the light, where the lamps chose to bathe her, her skin had the shine of milky satin under the sun.
George dearest, this is me.
She posed before the sleeping woman, still not moving, posed so that one graceful arm was lifted forward to begin a gentle stroll, the other slightly to the rear as if to complete the motion. He looked down at her feet. She was raised six inches by a pedestal.
A woman can live and yet not live, my George. She can damn herself out of her vanity and weep where there is not comfort. The sculptor did not flatter me. This is my image at the age of nineteen. This has been my vessel for thirty-four years. I used to shatter hearts. I would date a man, only to dump him when I thought there was someone better. I didn’t care. I’d do it again and again, but none was ever good enough. They adored me and I gave them wreckage. But who was to salvage me?
She was playing a joke; there were minuscule hairs on her back, her arms, and the lights reflected off them as effervescent little prisms. No statue was ever this alive. She would move in a minute. He was willing to wait, examining her magnificent curves, her ankles rising to well-proportioned calves, the calves melding to knees which were not gapped, fitting together perfectly.
May God forgive me, but I am still vain. Even as I am, I adore the thrill when a man looks at me longer than he should, the way he sneaks glances to make sure we are alone, the way he touches me. I can feel the faintest touch and it’s maddening. Am I horrible?
If she had been ardent about his physique, her comely derriere sent him past the gates of heaven. A preacher might gag but he would much rather revere her firm cheeks, which were rounded like honeydew melons, a deep cleft between them to emphasize their firmness. He would rather worship this than an unseen deity. Perhaps one day he’d burn for that one. Perhaps. But for sure he would burn without it. He began to walk around her, waiting for her to break her pose, noting long thighs that begged to be kissed. He barely heard her words.
We all have our silly dreams, I think. Mine is to be whole again, to live freely. I’d welcome my birthdays until my vanity had gone, along with my looks. Maybe a man would love me and, with his years, wouldn’t mind my ruin. We could rest on a park bench. We could talk about funny little things that only we knew. He could look at the pretty girls. I wouldn’t care for I’d do the same with the boys, and we’d pretend they passed, unnoticed.
And so that’s me, George. I’m pretty and I’m horrible. I tell truths and the opposite and I connive like a bitch. I have room for lust but none for pride. What have I done to be proud of? I don’t pretend to have shame. I can talk like this because tomorrow you won’t remember a thing.
He gazed at the tuft between her legs, noting that unlike the current fashion she didn’t trim the edges. There was no requirement anyway. She had a natural, pleasing diamond shape. She was also a natural blond.
My silly man, are you listening?
No, he was not. Her words skipped like a flat rock hydroplaning over an idle lake, leaving negligible ripples behind. He drank her in while she continued this silly game of standing still, his eyes drifting from her pubis to her navel, rising to the perfected beauty of her breasts, the very ones guaranteed to drive him mad.
In a moment he would cup them, in a moment but why hurry? It was so hot for her to remain as she was while he took her in. Surely she saw the look in his eyes. Her neck resembled that of a model, thin and a bit high, and was straight with the delicacy of youth.
Stop it right now, you idiot!
Was she blabbering something? Did it matter? He’d kiss her neck first. See how long she could stand that! Make it nice and lingering. Let his tongue trace its way down her throat, feeling the sharp intake of her breath. He could hardly wait. His eyes continued looking up and she made some kind of screeching noise but he wasn’t about to stop. He passed chin and killer lips and then her scream did get through just before the slam of the most scintillating green eyes he had ever seen. Like incandescence they burst into him and he had to break away as his heart betrayed him with a hard, single thump that threatened to be his last. But it wasn’t. An after-image of her sensuous mouth had simultaneously seared itself into his memory, and the resultant strike gave him no choice but to snap his eyes shut as if cracked by a whip.
And yet part of him yearned for more.
Until now, girls had come easily to George and he thought he’d seen every shape and size. It never occurred to him that some women were best avoided on account of their sheer potency, that their clothing did not conceal an error nor flatter their figures, that their garments were not instruments of enticement but rather of protection, protection so that the poor man could keep his wits. Such women have a private grief unknown to their normal sisters–excess of any kind has an attendant cost–but devastating women also have a very real danger. This one was lethal and had him mounted as surely as a butterfly in a collection. George knew it and didn’t give a damn. He’d give anything for her, anything.
He never considered the pin.
‘Young, dumb, and full of cum.’ She sounded tired, worn, resigned. Come, my George.
He was reeling on his feet and didn’t see the air above wisp into a cloud and begin drifting down to settle about him, and nowhere else. He was not aware of her enveloping need as such, but he did know a shiver when she whispered toward the auricles and ventricles of his heart. She murmured sweet nothings from his ear to his brain, which couldn’t compare to the love she had for the contact of his body. She lied with great sincerity when his lids moistened, as his eyes glazed over, and promised the delight of refulgent pleasures, both spoken and unspoken, normal and forbidden. Pleasures to crave but wise to shun, for never once did she mention the price of the ticket. Her offer was a bouquet, slow-acting but oh so good.
Come and breathe me.
No, said the remnant of a flicker.
His reply changed nothing. He would lose tonight, like the night before, and before, and before.
The wisp gathered in the direction of his resting mouth and clear nose, gathered as it collected into a denser form. It abandoned the balance of his person as unimportant. It condensed and where it came to rest, it remained patiently to be drawn. His breathing was not affected when he inhaled the essence of Belladonna, pretty lady, perfume of nightshade. She was sweet in the humidity of his lungs, kind to the tissues that welcomed her, and gentle to every cell she hushed into a comfortable sleep. Pliant he was as she permeated him more effectively than the presence of oxygen, huntress of the night diffused into delectable George.
And in the moment when she awakened him, George knew he would someday come to her, consumed with desire as much as she, and hold the mounds of her backside while he sealed his mouth over her lips and greedily sucked her. A handsome man, a solid man lowered his head like a marionette, and his fingers writhed as if inhabited by snakes. The belt of his robe began to loosen by itself and he knew what he wanted her to do.
Touch me, my dear George.
His hands were her hands; his lust was her lust; they rode a crest together, rising as strong pectorals and hills, well swollen, were combined into standing waves.
His hands lifted from his sides, hands with calluses and masculine strength, strength pulled to her nipples that were as sensitive as the cap of his penis. Whether he rubbed her or himself, it felt the same, was the same. He stayed with her and knew she was but wood, could be pinched very hard as there was not flesh to deform or bend. And she felt pleasure instead of pain, her nipples begging for more, and the more he pinched, the closer she came, they came.
She was already groaning. Give it to me; give it to me now.
His robe parted wide and something yanked his briefs down, and then writhed over the fuzz of his abdomen. He could take anything now, see anything now, he couldn’t wait to come into her and merge.
Look at me, my George; look and have what you want.
He opened his eyes and was lost to sumptuous red, focused yet drowsy upon parted lips. He wanted to feel the kiss, share the kiss of connection, but all his mouth could do was open to the air. Her elegant cheeks, flaring exquisitely, ached to be stroked by his willing hand. It was not to be.
My eyes, my eyes, look into my eyes. Don’t stop; hurry!
They were almost out of time. His eyes which would not obey him locked into the unending gaze of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her eyes were preternaturally lit from within, shimmering greenly with a touch of emerald fire, caring deeply for him and yet not, captivating far beyond the point of endurance. There was a fathomless depth here, drawing from him as though she could not possibly get enough but must get enough–a soul pulling from his core life and breath, not caring. In his mind he saw her head suddenly twitch like a woman under the influence of an electric current, and her eyes widened in surprise as if she had quite forgotten the phenomenal power of a man.
Like a wrap she clung to him, her perfect lower teeth becoming more visible, an utterance forming from deep within her throat. Her hands released him from above in order to grab him below, and her voice dropped two octaves into a most unusual sound, a guttural moan which shook to the cadence of her hands. She took one long blink to savor the beauty of her pleasure, alive to how good it was and how bad it was; what she was doing and what she would soon be feeling, very soon now, the feeling of a conduit connected directly to his groin. Her voice rose as she sensed him quivering and the corners of her pretty lips flared into little peaks of victory, eyes fastened to eyes. Her dark pupils were enlarged with her craving, smoky embers of glory and ice. She heard a distant sound, up and off to an impossible scale, a voice too high for a man but too frenzied for a woman, the wailing of an animal in awful heat.
His throat felt stuffed as though by the medium of cotton; he found it impossible to cry although he wanted to, ramming his penis forward to leave it there, a mindless organ spitting into her churning hands. Upon his shove an ancient spasm convulsed her so hard that her head snapped back and the whites of her eyes rocked up to be passed by her heavy lids coming down, and her red lips contorted like the pain of the gored. The shudder of pulsed rapture struck as waves from the very pit of her, and in that instant forced the cry of her unendurable pleasure to the four walls which were deaf to the sound of her ecstasy, the room only hearing the calm blanket of night.
And through it all, past it all, there was a promise unkept. She had lied. All of this they knew as they imploded into a single fusion–her lies and meager good, his zest and attitude of a slut–they knew each other completely.
And kept shuddering in place.
The room did not quell nor did the surface of the earth touch them in the long moments that followed. Her still form remained as it was, as it always was. A beautiful young woman about to take a walk, her chin high and body firm with the suggestion of toned muscle, perfect posture. Her nipples were as fresh as the day the sculptor had carved them, her figure clean as though painted yesterday. No sign of ejaculate was on her. In her heart there was a peace. She said nothing to George who now lodged within a special place she had fashioned for him, a dwelling of raven black which was brightened by her occasional aftershocks. They were few in number, but when they quaked it was like the roll of wicked thunder. She floated high and was far too filled with her pleasure to notice that the atmosphere of the bedroom had subtly altered. The older woman lying on the Lilium bed wasn’t breathing deeply anymore.
Ruth Kempter’s eyes weren’t focusing all that well, but she was alert enough to barely part her lashes. She studied the male who was breathing strangely, his robe still open.
Blood. <br /> <br />Blood on the walls, the ceiling, the windows, the sheets. The average human carries one and a half gallons of blood in their body, and thats what’s covering everything. One point five gallons. <br /> <br />"Chris…" <br /> <br />Where did the blood come from, the body on the bed? No. Chest is still rising, no puncture wounds, no slash wounds, pure, pristine, skin polished to a sheen, like a doll with its dull plastic eyes..Plastic eyes? Mannequin. Why? Who knows, maybe god knows, lets ask him…Very good, god. Very Clever. <br /> <br />"Chris…" <br /> <br />Its hot in here…Maybe I should turn a fan on. Click. The fan’s spinning, and oh look, splatter splatter splatter. Like I said, covered in blood, and now its all over us. Skin red as the devil’s, painted with this sanguine substance. All we need is the tail, the horns, and the pitchfork and we’ll be good to go. <br /> <br />"Chris…!" <br /> <br />"What?!" Silence. We look around at all the eyes turning towards us, a good fifteen other students of Mr. Clarences’ geometry class watching with their beady little eyes and the looks of supressed hysterical laughter spread across their faces. Breath in slow, calm your racing heart, wait for the hardon to go away. "I’m sorry…I dosed off…I didnt get much sleep last night… Up all night studying for todays test." More like jerking off to the videos of that Lebonese chick we met on Cam4… <br /> <br />"I’m sure, Mister Keen…" John Clarence said to us, and the look in his eyes said ‘I dont doubt you. You’ve never made anything under a low B..You’ll do just fine.’ And everything would be fine, after all it’s common sense that will get us through this world. "I was hoping you could give us the answer to question… Let’s see, we’re doing odd numbers… Question Nine, on page 208… Seeing as how your book isn’t even open and you probably need a reminder." We didnt, of course, but it was just him being helpful – no need to get aggravated like you know we want to. <br /> <br />No one fucks with the quiet kid who makes good grades, especially after what happened with Joey Stanby a couple years ago, before we were even here. He took a pair of scissors and stabbed it into Jake Tillbury’s throat, who’d been beating him up whenever Joey didnt give him his homework. It’d become a routine – Joey would do his papers without signing his name, so that Jake could write his own. Like a disgruntled postman, he snapped – and stabbed Jake so many times that there was an inch wide empty hole open where his vocal cords had been. A lot of people saw it coming. All but Jake, who was too stupid and had little common sense. A lot of people mourned Jake, but no one gave a fuck about Joey – no one Â took their hands away from their eyes long enough to see that Joey was grieving inside as well. <br /> <br />Jake’s parents, rich yuppies from who-knows-who-cares, pressed charges and Joey was given an adult sentence. We never quite figured out how long it was. Some said life, others said death row, but we merely sigh and sit back – watching. We glance at our paper, note the answer, and speak – words come out – Mr. Clarence smiles and nods, and now we can go back to sleep. <br /> <br />One set of eyes close, the other set watches. One sleeps, one smiles. Tick-tock goes the death clock, counting down til the day that once again something dies. The clock goes off, ring ring ri— Wait, what? That’s not the clock, that’s merely the signal for the next class. Groovy. One moves and collects the stuff from the table, the other rests with his head down against the desk making mumbly noises about how he can get no sleep. We sit up, Lexy staring at us as we glance over at her with silent irritation. Word on the grapevine is that Lexy Whatever-the-fuck-her-last-name-is has a crush on us. She’s short, a little chubby, but she has ivory skin and a ‘fuck me’ face. She’ll do nicely, "Hey Lex…Wanna carry my books to next class?" She laughs, "No way, Doofus, its /your/ job to carry /mine/!" Which is what we’ll do, you know, just to make ourselves look better. <br /> <br />*** <br /> <br />Perryn closed the laptop and raised her face to the emerging spring sun. God, the winter had been a long one. Checking my watch, I had but a few more precious minutes to enjoy the earth’s renewal before returning to the artificial lights of a temperature-controlled environment, the artificial people with the plastic faces and sterile conversation. I sigh heavily, wishing for a different life, a different something. I stand, tuck the laptop into the carrying case and head back to the office for several more hours of incoherent time-wasting directives from the incompetent human who is several pay grades above me but cannot fathom her True Mission in Life, which would be to Get The Hell out Of Mine. <br /> <br />I push the elevator button for "Up" and play the "Elevator Game", waging internal bets on which side the doors will open first. Is a game I play several times a day, from the moment I arrive, until I leave, and a few times during the day to smoke a cigarette. <br /> <br />The elevator sounds its "Ding" and I chalk up another win … most of the time it’s the right side … and I step in, along with several other passengers, most of whom I do not know. We stand apart from one another by several inches, each of us having pushed the button to take us back to our dreary little cube-farm worlds. <br /> <br />Time is an illusion of the mind I decide as my eyes linger on the minute hand that never seems to move fast enough to 5:00. I hear the clack-clack, clack-clack of the project manager’s heels heading dangerously in my direction down the hallway. Her square, bulky frame darkens my cubicle door as she thrusts a sheath of papers littered with red ink at me. <br /> <br />"Perryn, The Client finally submitted these changes and we need to return a corrected proof to them by first thing Monday morning." <br /> <br />My brain explodes with frustration that The Client should have thought of that much, much earlier in the week, but after 9 years in the business I know better than to protest â€”after all, The Client is Never Wrong. The Client Pays the Bills. The Client doesn’t care about your personal life or your sanity, Perryn! My stomach aches with repressed anger, noting Mary Harris’ smug, half-smile as I take the papers from her hand. I glance quickly thru the changes, assessing the amount of time it will take to complete the task and in a tight, constrained tone I reply "I’ll have it done by then, Mary. This shouldn’t take long". As she turns and walks away I count to 60, stand up, shove the papers into my laptop case and quickly make my way to the stairs. No elevator games tonight. <br /> <br />*** <br /> <br />"Ding, Ding!" The subway doors open and I step into the crisp, cool evening that heralds early spring on the east coast. "Fuck her. Fuck the Client and their fucking last-minute changes. I want a beer." I sling the laptop case strap over my shoulder, leaning hard into the heavy door of the Sunset Grille as I make my way into the perpetually-dim womb of my favorite dive. My refuge from the irritations and superficialities of the day. Refuge from what once was a stimulating, creative job that somehow morphed into a living hell. The bouncer never bothers to check my ID anymore, he just smiles and says "Welcome Back". I love him. <br /> <br />"Guiness Stout" I say to Lorraine, hoisting my ass onto the worn vinyl bar stool as I simultaneously hang the computer case on the hook under the counter. Lighting a cigarette while she opens the tap to pour the Guiness I stare into the mirrored back wall of the bar at the reflection of myself. <br /> <br />At 32, Perryn Page was an attractive, auburn-haired single woman whose last long-term commitment ended with his getting another woman pregnant. The string of brief sexual encounters and an internet fling that crashed-and-burned when she discovered that his relationship goals were firmly polyamorous left her disillusioned and disappointed. She loved her condo and enjoyed her privacy. What she lacked was a reliable Friends-With-Benefits. <br /> <br />*** <br />We crack our knuckles, not bothering to look at the perfect laminated picture of ourselves as we move towards the Sunset Grille, our eyes roaming across the tinted windows as we step up the sidewalk and pull the doors open, stepping inside. We don’t hesitate, we merely show the bouncer our ID casually while looking around, waiting for him to get a good look at us to compare…The comparison is made and he steps aside to let us in – the proof is in the writing and the actions, this one is older then he seems. <br /> <br />We approach the bar, not caring to glance at the other passengers on this train to emptyness, a fair-skinned hand reaching for the menu to glance at what’s available. "I’ll have a…Pina Colada, heavy on the vodka." Something sweet to dull the taste of the alcohol – watching as Mr. ‘Hello, My name is Smith’ gives us a double-take before shrugging and preparing to mix the drink. <br /> <br />Aside from our fair skin, we are somewhat normal looking – or so we would like to think. Normal means ‘easily forgotten’, though we suppose that we could pass for attractive if we wanted. We stand at Five foot ten, regularly built with hair down to our shoulders. We suppose our eyes are attractive, after all, somthing must have caught Lexy’s attention, and it certainly wasn’t our cleanliness – Our eyes are gray with small hazel rings around the pupils. We tend to stare off sometimes and have our subconcious do our work for us, which also tends to freak people out. <br /> <br />We glance down at the drink in front of us – the thick, white, drink staring us back in the face, taunting us, belittling us. ‘Neither of you are man enough to drink me…’, But we are. The drunk next to us looks over at us a moment, laughing, "What are you? Some kind of fairy?" he says, not recognizing that in that instant he had signed his death warrant. Our eyes turned towards him a moment, dark and cold in their precision and for a moment, somthing deep down did recognize that this day would be his last, as something gave him pause. We turned back towards our drink, taking it and bringing it to our lips as we pour the cold liquid down our throats – the tropical flavor greeting our tongues as our blood runs cold. The man is celebrating this being his last day in town. He’s moving. Got a new job. He won’t be missed here, not for a while, at least…No one will remember his passing and will simply believe that he severed all ties that bind. We’d kill him anyway for simply questioning our sexuality because of something so trivial as a drink preference, but that didn’t matter. He was the one. <br /> <br />*** <br /> <br />"Here you go, Perryn. Haven’t seen you in a while" says Lorraine as she places a small, square napkin on the bar and then sets the thick, dark brew on it in front of me. <br /> <br />"Not much to tell." I shrug. "Same ole, same ole. Mary Harris â€”the bitchâ€” is intent on making my life more miserable than it already is." I lift the glass to my lips and take a long pull from the beer, it’s frothy head leaves a mustache along my top lip. I reach for another napkin to wipe it off, glance into the mirrored back wall and freeze. The young guy at the end of the bar is standing unnaturally still, his hand poised over a drink and his eyes locked on the man to his right. <br /> <br />Instinctively I am aware that something is not quite right. I set the half-empty glass down and lean forward a bit, whispering "Lorraine? Who is that guyâ€”" my eyes transfixed on the motionless figure of the young man. <br /> <br />Lorraine â€”a short, rotund woman of indeterminate ageâ€” looks over her shoulder and then back at me, casually shrugging while she places another napkin on the bar. "Who, the kid? Dunno. Never seen him before." <br /> <br />I drain the remainder of my beer and set the glass down. "Another?" she asks, reaching for the empty mug. <br /> <br />Nodding, I light another cigarette and avert my eyes, but there is something … compelling about the character standing nonchalantly at the other end of the bar. "Yeah, neither have I." Lorraine turns to refill my glass, and I try to locate another point upon which to fasten my attention but as if pulled by some magnetic force I allow myself another look. <br /> <br />He’s staring back at me. <br />
My name is Dimitri , 23 years old and I lived in a poor East European shit-country where most of the people must work only to survive. So sorry that my English is not perfect. Because I also want to drive a nice car, to have a good smartphone, etc. , like many men, I always search for ways to earn extra money.
On a Saturday evening, in a bar in the centre of the city, some unknown guy came to me and said : ‘Hi , my name is Adam , are you interested in a job where you can earn a lot of money ? ‘ . He was wearing a nice suit , dark glasses, but his voice was soft : the first impression was confidence. ‘Of course’ I said, and my name is Dimitri . We sat down , he paid me a cocktail and asked : ‘if I would say ‘no ‘ if the job is not completely legal. I joked and said , ‘if I don’t have to rob a bank and if it pays good, no problem’. He laughed . Then he asked if I Like girls or boys, ‘girls, of course’. I replied. He talked like ‘a funny guy ‘ and suddenly he said : – ‘ if you want, you can earn € 5000 for a few hours’ work – ‘. The only important thing you must do is ‘to forget what you did after ‘ and to be happy with your € 5000. So when you work a few days a week you will soon have € 50.000 a month or more. He looked at me straight in the eyes with his dark glasses and said : ‘so tell me now : will we continue with this conversation or do you want to go home ‘ ? I could not answer directly, but after one minute I answered : ‘ For this kind of money I want to do a lot so tell me more details ‘. ‘Fine ‘, he said while he reached out his hand , ‘ but do we have a deal that everything we say now stays between us and do you want to confirm this with your life ‘? Now I got the feeling it was some kind of gangster, I became a little bit scared , but why not , it was only words. So I agreed. ‘Listen Dimitri ‘, you know that if you don’t want to do this job, many others guys will so the result is the same : ‘it will happen ‘ so if your answer is no,’ it does not make a difference only that another guy become rich and you will stay a poor rat’. Somewhere he had a point : no matter what the job is, somebody will do it and become rich. Of course he made me very curious, I agreed with this private conversation and asked Adam to go on. He asked : ‘ do you know that many rich people pay a lot of money just to look at a webcam-site ‘ ? I laughed and replied ‘yes of course , but I’m not good enough to play in porn-movies ‘.
‘ No ! ‘ . replied Adam short and loud . His voice became silent again and whispered in my ear : ‘they pay for life performances to see how victims are raped and more. This is the only business for our company : customers pay and we do what they want for their money. When they pay an amount, they can send a scenario they want to see. Then our K-team (kidnap-team ) looks if it’s possible to find the subject and we make a price. If they agree, they must pay the rest and then we make an appointment to come online to start the show. This customer is the ‘director ‘, He controls what must happen life on line. There are also ‘lurkers ‘, they pay less but can only watch , not control. Sometimes a few hundred lurkers are online during the show. Your job : – to assist in the – redroom – . He looked at me very straight in the eyes again and said : ‘remember your promise with your life to keep this between us ; should I go on, or do you want to leave ‘? I did not know what to say first, but realized I was so far in it that I could not just leave so I said : ‘no ok , go on ‘. Adam became more relaxed now and he continued: ‘ we do everything, girls, boys or whatever, but of course, most clients want girls and because the motivation is good for the show, you will assist the girl performances. Don’t worry: it’s weird in the beginning, but after a few shows you get used to it and may even like it! Imagine what you can do with all that money! Now serious: there is only one director who pays a lot and he decides life during the show what must be done. Of course he writes first some kind of scenario so that we can prepare everything but during the show he is the boss. The lurkers pay less, but they can only watch. The director gives a description of the victim, our ‘search team ‘ looks in another environment for the appropriate profile. then our ‘kidnap-team ‘ kidnaps the object from the street, transport it directly to our company here and tie the subject on a toilet with a bag over the head. Finally, we give the signal ‘subject ready ‘ to the director and make the appointment to start the show. This must happen fast because almost every ‘director ‘ wants to see a ‘fresh ‘ victim in the clothes they wear before the kidnap so: ‘we do not tolerate that someone damage the object before the show’! Once an appointment is made , the lurkers get informed when the show comes on line, if they have paid of course. Don’t think the ‘director ‘ is always a man, sometimes it is a rich woman and they are the most difficult customers! Now I want your reply : to go home, forget this and stay a poor rat or enjoy us : became rich and perhaps it will amuse you. If you don’t want to decide now, agree, but anyway : we must meet each other again . And Dimitri , I know where you live of course !’ . I stood perplex , frozen , this information was dangerous . Adam ordered another drink , smile relaxed and said : ‘don’t worry, I know the feeling, but now I live in a nice villa with pool , drive a Porsche 95 , can fuck any girl I want and pay the cops to let me without questions. I live like a king ! Suddenly some weird energy came in me ; I reached out my hand to him and said – ‘deal’- ! I want to try it, tell me where and when’. Adam looked surprised about my swift decision, shacked my hand firmly and said – ‘deal ‘ – !, You will not regret it! There is a show on Saturday, 3pm. Give me your gsm-number. You will receive a text message around 1pm with the address where one of our drivers will pick you up and bring you to the playroom. Your guide is ‘Sergei’ . It’s your first time so you must look and learn what the 2 assistants must do because next time you will be one of the 2 assistants.. . The first time you get € 3000, next if you succeed and if you are a full assistant its € 5000. How long the show takes depends from the scenario of the director and also how strong the object is. We had had customers who just wants to see a swift, hard action from only a few minutes just to see them die, others want to see torturing during hours but also some want to see just a rape. So it depends. Of course you understand: even if the director is soft and asks to let the object go we confirm this but in reality we cannot let it go for security-reasons. In this case when we are off-line and if some guys of our ‘staff’ wants to play they can do what they want, but you know how it must end for the object, always… Now: go home , dream about the money you will get and welcome to the company’ ; I have to go now. ‘Oh yeah , before I forget he smiled: take a bag with you with spare clothes because sometimes it’s a mess there’. Adam left , I would never see him again. He left me with a fearful heart, I could not realize what I did, but still, all that money…
Saturday I did not sleep a lot, was nervous as hell. At 1 : 00 pm exactly my phone gave a receiving signal. The message was : wait at 1:20pm at the corner of a-street and b-and street. A black Mercedes will pick you up. Be there . Success, – Adam. I was shaking as a leaf, answered , ‘ok ‘, pulled on my jeans vest, took my bag with extra pants and shirt and was on my way to the to the place of appointment . 12:20 pm At the corner of a- and b-street : I saw a black Mercedes coming who was flashing with his lights. He stopped in front of me ; I could not see inside because all the windows were dark . I opened a back door and heard a voice ‘in front ‘. I opened the front door and got in. The driver was around 60 years, completely bold, glasses, dressed in a black suit and was smoking. He did not look at me, did not say anything : I felt myself not comfortable and yes, afraid .
He drove toward an abandoned industrial area. I knew the place ; a lot of people worked there during communist time. Now it’s one abandoned, sad place where only rats are live. The car stopped in front of an old paint-factory. The driver said nothing, just continued smoking. Suddenly the door went open, a big guy reached out his hand and said : ‘Hi , I’m Sergei, welcome to the company ‘. I shacked his hand , got out of the car, took my bag but did not know how to behave myself . Sergei noticed this and calmed me by saying : ‘don’t worry ‘ , my job is to introduce you and to guide you into your new job. Before we go into the room I will tell you what you can expect, follow me ‘.
We went into the old factory, he opened a big steel door, I followed him. We went along with old, rusty stairs going down the basement. He opened another door, behind it was a whole complex of corridors and doors. I saw camera’s everywhere. It was not a dark place, on the contrary ; fresh painted in light colors ! In the half of a corridor, Serge opened a green door and said : ‘welcome to my office’. It had nothing specials : just an old metal office; probably a remnant from the time that the factory was still producing paint. But then I saw under his suite a holster with a gun in it. I realized now I could not stop this or go back, I must put my way of thinking about zero, go on with it and see what happens .
‘So Dimitri ‘ , He said with a relaxed voice : ‘I will tell you clearly and directly what happens here , what we expect from you and of course : when you leave this place with your money this never happened ‘ . What else could I say then ‘ok, I understand ‘… . I thought by myself : now it’s the time to say nothing , listen carefully, try to be relaxed and not to show any fear ‘. Sergei started his conversation : ‘ we are professional businessmen, we don’t ask questions and just do what the customer wants’. Our customer, the ‘director ‘ sends a basic scenario so that we know what kind of things he wants to see, if we should buy some extra tools, if he wants also girls to assists or whatever he wants. Funny: some of them asks to piss on the object so drink some water before… You have luck : you have the department of – young girls – ; children, we don’t do, but such customers we refer to colleagues, but still: your objects can be 12 or younger if for example the customer wants an object with budding tits. Age as number is not important, but the look must be as the director described. He grinned: ‘Once a client wanted a girl around 14 but the k-team came with a 25 year-old. But she looked so small and skinny and had such small tits so that the client never knew the real age, but sill paid for a 14 which is much more expensive’… So the objects are the ‘movie-stars ‘ and must give a show for the customers who pay a lot of money to see it. The director is the boss, not us ! What he commands must happen, no matter what, understand? What else could I do then nod yes… So your task is to do things that the director wants; you must do it as good as possible because the lurkers also pay a lot and if they like the show, they will pay us again to come back, so more money… . For your first time: I suppose the session can take a few hours because the director wants a session where the subject must fall unconscious as much as possible, it must make a lot of noise and by the time it cannot wake up anymore there may be not much left of it. This means that the assistants (like you soon ) may not let her bleed a lot, not damage her eyes and tongue. They must do the things the director wants to see her react, but not too hard because she must stay a life as long as possible. So: let’s hope we have luck that’s it’s a strong-one. It can happen sometimes that the director is not satisfied because the object dies too soon, but it’s not mostly our fault: we do what he wants and cannot know how strong the object is. We never give money in return! So you must learn to know the limits to let them react, but not go too far so they die fast! But don’t worry: Yvan, the redroom-boss , will constantly look on his tablet what the director wants and show it to the assistants what they must do. Very important : Yvan communicates with the assistants out of the camera view so the director and lurkers can concentrate and enjoy themselves on the object. The clients can choose between many cameras and there are also 2 mobile cameramen to make closeups : one always zooms in on the face, the other on – the place of action. – Always try to stay out of the image! About the victim: consider it as an object just to make money. So , are you shocked? ‘
Indeed, I was but I realized there was no return. I ensured him that I was ok , of course nervous but ready to go into the room. ‘Fine ‘, he said , let’s go to the red room. But first I’ll show you how we keep the object in anticipation of the show. Oh yeah, bad luck for you : you as assistant may not rape. For this we hire ‘strong big men with experience ‘. The guys from the rape-team are selected on their ugliness , brutality , big dig and their talent to come always with a lot of sperm , most customers want to see this. Like animals; the more brutal and ugly the better and I don’t think you have this profile . I saw a big smile on his mouth…. Sometimes a customer wants that we do a ‘preparation ‘ to the victim like one week ago a customer wanted that we bring in a raped, beaten girl and he just wanted to see how she get hanged . So in this case we had to prepare her among us and then you can help. Or a soft-client can ask just to see the object strip and to have forced sex and after we let her go home. Of course, this is not possible, but we assure the client, we will return her to her home safely. After the show you and the men can do with the object what they want, but as you suppose it may not survive, no witness.
‘Now let’s go’ he said and I followed Sergei ; he closed his green door and continued walking through the corridor. He hit right into another hallway that literally ended at a red door. Before the end of the corridor, on the right site there was a blue door. He opened it and said: ‘look, here is the object of the show’. I was astonished… I saw a girl in black dress, sitting on a toilet with her panties over her shoes, her arms tied around her back and a bag over her head. She had some bib around her neck. The body was trembling like a leaf. ‘Look’, Sergeï said: the k-team tied her to a toilet because of the stress she will shit and piss a lot and the client wanted a fresh object like it came just from the street with normal clean clothes. Because they captured it 2 days ago, the k-team gave her bib to keep the clothes clean when they are pushing down food and water into her throat. And also to avoid saliva on her clothes because she has a rag in her mouth. 5 Minutes before the show starts the k-team must clean her ass, pull-up her pants, remove the bag and the rag and bring her in. Of course, it’s not always like this: it can happen a client wants to bring an object that is left for a few days without anything. So it’s a mess if we remove the clothes, but like I said: client is king… Ok, now let’s go into the red room’. We left the toilet and went through the red door: I saw a ‘white room’; the walls and floor were made of white smooth stones, like in a swimming pool and the floor had drains .
There were a few men working: one had a tablet, another was sitting on a computer desk, I guess this was the ‘IT-man’ and 2 others were laughing like they were telling jokes. They looked at me while saying, ‘hi, the new guy’ and shook my hand friendly. Weird… just like the first day in a normal job. Then 2 young guys came to say hello to me and introduced themselves as ‘the assistants’. They had the same profile as me: around 20 years, just normal guys who want to do a job to earn money.
The room had camera’s everywhere and to every wall a big flat screen was mounted. There was also a wheel with a garden-hose, probably to ‘clean easy’ after a show. In the middle of the room was a bed: an old model, entirely in metal but without mattress. The bottom of the bed was simply consisted of a metal grid. It was old and rusty with belts everywhere, I suppose, to tie the victim to the bed. Next to the bed was an electric tacle. ‘look’, he said: the tackle is easy to use: one button with arrow up, one with arrow down and our special ‘red button.’ if you press this, the hook opens automatically so it’s easy to connect handcuff chains or whatever. To disconnect the subject is easy with this button: just push it and the subject falls down, you don’t have to lift it up. In the corner was some kind of large grey plastic bin on wheels. On the other side of the room was another door. ‘Come’, said Serge¨, let me show you around and give you some explanation. Here on this tackle the show usually begins. Mostly the object is tied with the arms up and a bag over the head before the start. If customer wants we can easily lift the subject up. The bed has no mattress because, like this it’s easy to clean: just use the garden-hose to clean it. This is also a part of your job: to clean the room for the next victim. The customers also like the impression of the old, rusty model.
The big bin here we use for the ‘garbage-container’ like the clothes and shoes we take off, handbags or whatever they carried with them. And yeah: sometimes also hair, teeth or things we must cut off. And of course at the end you must help to throw what is left of the object in the bin. But it’s the ‘clean-team’ that takes care of what is in the bin: they will burn everything what’s in it, so lucky for you this is not your job.’
Now he asked me to follow him into the ‘storage’, this was behind the other door in the red room. When I came into this room, I got a very unpleasant feeling. I saw things like whips, clamps, wire, metal bars, needles, ropes, chains, a few hundred ‘little fishhooks with wire’, all kinds of knives, a terrible collection of dildo’s even with sharp nails in it, a gas fire, buckets, nippers, electrical wires, even a shelf, underpants and bra with sharp nails in it. Also a lot of Dettol: ‘nobody wants to get ill so the hygiene is very important. After the session the assistants must clean and disinfect all the toys here, after every session, we don’t want to see blood, nothing!’ I told him that I understand it and I will respect the rules. ‘Super’, now for your first session, let’s talk to Yvan what it will be this time’. I followed him to Yvan who was ‘working’ on his tablet. ‘Hi new-one’ he said: ‘listen: look good what will happen, don’t think and just do what I say. Never, but never refuse, run away or vomit in front of the camera! I know first time can be hard, but if necessary : run to the outdoor and relax in the corridor! Never talk during the session, only if you must give a command to the victim what it must do. Understood?’ What else could I do as saying ‘clear!’..
Suddenly a big bald guy came in and gave a handbag to Yvan. ‘Here new-one’ he said; ‘your first job. Before they bring in the victim, they handle over the personal things to the assistants. They must see if there are some valuable things, the rest you put into the container to be destroyed. Put the value-things on the desk. Don’t look for cellphones, the K-team destroys them directly after the kidnap.’ If the subject wears jewelry, earrings or whatever: remove them after the session’.
Yvan went to the ‘IT-man and left me with the handbag of the subject they will bring in. Sergeî nodded – ok – to me for my first mission. It was a soft-brown leather female handbag. I opened it and find the usual things like make-up, mirror, tampons, wallet. I opened the wallet, took the money out and put in on the desk. I took her passport and saw the picture of a very nice girl with long, curly black hair. Her name was ‘Anoushka’, 19 years old. ‘ This must absolutely be destroyed’ said SergeÎ. ‘Never try to take it with you such as any other thing from the subject’! I nodded yes and went to the plastic bin to throw all the personal things of Anoushka in it. I saw her passport with her beautiful picture laying down in the bin, it was a terrible feeling. But I had to be strong, brain on zero: no way return.
Now the door has gone open and 2 men came in with a professional camera. One had the profile of ‘an accountant’ : a frail man with glasses and weird haircut, the other looked more like Beethoven. They were testing their stuff while the IT-man was working on his computer .
I saw the 4 big flat screens activated : changing the images from one camera-view to a diagram with more images . ‘Look ‘ , said Sergei : ‘the customer can switch to the image that he wants. Once paid, the customer receives soft with a special browser. It works very well : its high-quality image and clear sound ‘.
One of the assistants came out of the store-room and threw a pile of balaclavas on the desk . ‘Look Dimitri ‘ , Sergei said : ‘never , never forget to put on a cap before we go online or we have to kill you. ‘ He smiled, I did not know whether he meant or not. ‘Serious ‘ , He said : not only for security reasons, but also because the customers like this, it fits well in the scenario . This was a clear message .
Suddenly Yvan clapped his hand and shouted : ‘5 minutes to go ‘ , everybody takes your cab and into positions’. Like Everybody did, I went to the desk and took a cap to pull it over the head , even the IT-man did this ! He concentrated himself on his control panel and there I saw : ‘876 users on-line ‘, the assistants closed the red entrance door and took place against the wall next to the entrance door , the cameramen are funny with their cabs . They were pointing their cameras to the closed red entrance door, Yvan was concentrated on his tablet. Sergei said : ‘remember always to stay as much as possible out of the camera view and never, never speak ! This rule is for everybody who comes here, no voices ! The customers only want to enjoy the sounds of the victim , not our voices in a strange language for them ! And of course also for security reason. And if it gets too rough for you this first time and you need to vomit, run outside! I replied : ‘ok , understood clearly’. And now it became eerily quiet in the room . Only a sound came from the IT-man’s keyboard . Everybody was just waiting in silence until Yvan gave the sign. …
Now Yvan clapped his hands and counted down with his fingers: 5-4-3-2-1; completely silence… On the control-panel was a red banner ‘on-line’. Now I heard big steps in the corridor and also a crying female voice. These sounds became louder and louder. Suddenly the red entrance door flew open and I recognized – the bold driver which brought me to here. Over his shoulder he had the ‘subject’ : the girl I saw who was tied to the toilet. – a slim body in a black dress with a dirty burlap sack over her head – . She was wearing white open shoes, her ankles and wrists were bound together . On the big screens I saw how the cameramen made professional zooms of the body over his shoulder . What I heard was crying , begging words, nothing more. The bold driver threw the subject on the ground, turned around and went away. Because I remember how I emptied the handbag and saw her passport, I knew her name was Anoushka . But I could not think like this anymore, I must see her as a subject because I realize terrible things would happen to her now so it was better to replace Anoushka by a subject without feelings, to put my brains on zero now ! The cameramen begin to film the crying victim on the ground from every angle. On the screens you saw her laying down on the floor, shaking and full of fear. Her shocking sounds were terrible. Sergei gestured to look at Yvan’s tablet just like the assistants did . I could read clearly the instructions of the director : ‘I want to see her standing up on the tackle, brutal removing of bag , hair pulling , faces labs and one good punch in the belly’ . Yvan gave a sign to an assistant to do it . To me he gave a sign to look very good . An assistant went to the tackle-control panel and let it down. Without a word the other assistant went to ‘the object ‘ and puts the chain from the handcuffs around her wrists into the hook on the tackle and removes the rope from her ankles. The other one pushed the ‘up’-button. Now I saw the tackle coming up and dragged her body with it. First her hands, arms, her full body wrapped in a beautiful black dress and her moving legs until she was standing outstretched . The IT-man activated the floor- , ceiling camera’s and wall camera’s around the tackle; the 2 cameramen slowly walked around her and made extra shots of her trembling , shaking body. On the screen I saw every detail of her body, filmed from every corner. The floor cameras showed her nice legs that ended to the view of her light-blue panties. What goes to my mind are 2 things : first is ‘ I don’t want to see a horrible murder, just want to go home and forget this’ but the other site : the dark site, the site from a young man who loves woman says ‘ wow, no : I want to see more’ . What I’m I ; a victim, a sadist, a bad guy? Soon I will know myself better. Anyway : technically this was the good professional work ; high-quality-level for the – customers – . In my head, I try to forget the name ‘Anoushka ‘ but it keeps on spinning in my head .
Now an assistant comes in front of her, I see on the screen the burlap sack . Suddenly the assistant beats a few times with left- and right hand against the back, in a very fast, brutal move he removes the sack from her head, grabs her hair, moves her head in every direction very brutal , gives her a few hard face slabs, a big punch in this nice , flat belly and steps away from her. The sound was one sobbing , begging, weeping mess with words like ‘why , let me, help , I just want to go home , please don’t do this ‘ etc… But nobody of the men made any sound , we could only hear ‘it ‘, the ‘subject ‘ as I must see her. I realized that also the 876 users could see this, get a kick from this while playing with themselves etc … Terrible feeling, but my dark site founded it somewhere exciting.
They filmed her about 5 minutes, then Yvan gave us a sign and showed us the ‘director’s new message : ‘lift her up , use 2 whips to rip this dress but never remove the nice open shoes until the fall !’. He gave a sign to the assistants , they went into the ‘storage room ‘ and came back with two long black whips . When she saw this, she became in terrible panic and started to scream ‘no please ‘ but suddenly the other assistant pushed the up-button from the tackle until her feet were lifted from the floor. Now she was hanging only by her wrists, which must be very painful . On every screen we saw all the images from the camera’s which the – lurkers- could shoos . The 2 cameramen were zooming in to her – what once was beautiful – crying face, the other to her trembling legs and feet. They went away by the assistant that stood behind her gave his first lash . I never hear such terrible cry in my life; it was heartbreaking; her whole body was shaking like a reed. The whip went all the way around her body. Now the other assistant who stood in front of her used his whip : a heavy cry echoed in the room . When her shaking body turned around, I saw that the whip around her body damaged the zipper from her dress and gave a first glimpse of her naked body. Now the 2 assistants, each in turn started to whip her. It was one entirely sound of heavy cries mixed with a flapping , shrill sound .
I saw her body turning , shaking , trembling and tried to avoid the latches. Her dress became more damaged now: I saw parts of her legs, belly, back. But now Yvan raised his hand to stop and to come to the tablet. The cameraman zoomed in to her destroyed dress, her naked skin, which had also a bit damaged with red lines and her face which was one crying mess full of tears. Yvan let us show next commando on his tablet : ‘ remove this dress with a big knife , let het hang a few minutes, then whips only above her underpants.
So be it : one assistant went into the store-room and came back with a big knife which made her very afraid , I had the impression she began to realize that it is finished…. The assistant grabbed her robe with one hand, with the other hand, he cut it into pieces and removed it completely so now she was hanging on her wrists in underwear, her body had some red lines everywhere. He kicked away the parts of her dress to give the floor-camera’s a view and went away . . It was quiet in the room , the only sound was a soft crying sound . The cameramen were busy to zoom in on her body: every curve , every red line of her body. When they zoomed in to her light-blue underpants we could clearly see she had sanitary napkins under it: so she was in her period . The 2 feelings came up again : one of horror and disgust, one small dark ‘ exiting ‘, somewhere sexually provocative .
Now the assistants took their whips again, I heard and saw terrible reactions on her face and they began to whip her again, from both sides, each in turn on her and bra and belly. After a few whips I saw a lot of red lines on her belly, her bra was damaged and her right-tit came out of it and was bleeding . Yvan made a sign to stop , the assistants went away .
The cameramen did their job again : On the big screen the results : her back full and belly full of red lines and some blood , a bit on her belly , one tit was hanging out of bra bar and many bloodlines on belly and back . Yvan whispered to the assistants to pull of her bra now and to give 10 more whips on the region of her tits. The assistants were approaching the object again; one brutally pulled off what was left of her bra. Now they started to whip her from both sides on her back and tits: the sound was one mass of latches and horrible cries. When they stopped her back and tits were full of bloodlines. Like always the cameramen zoomed in on the damaged places: her back was so red, her tits half destroyed, even the nipple of her left tit was completely torn off and was bleeding heavy. Yvan showed us the next command: to pull out her under pant whip her on the legs, pussy and ass. So it started again: one assistant pulled out her under pant, , her sanitary napkins fell out. I saw her black hair with some blood on her legs from her period and another that came from her belly. Now the assistants started to whip again, but only on legs, ass and pussy. The terrible sounds started again, but her moves were less; I think her resistance was broken. When they stopped, now also her legs were full of red bloodlines. The cameramen were zooming in: we could see in close up the damage on her body: many flesh wounds, almost her whole body was full of red lines. We saw and hear her fast breaths … . The floor-cameras were showing the view from under ; you could see her once-nice-shaped legs now full of bloodlines , her bleeding pussy and her shaking belly and half-destroyed tits . Yvan made another gesture to see the next command from the director .
He whispered to one of the assistants to go into the store-room and to warm up an iron : the director wanted to see her feet full of burned spots. The assistant went to the store-room while on the screen we saw ‘the subject ‘ hanging , trembling , full of fear and pain but she was still at consciousness . I guess my – colleague – will activate the gas-fire in the storage-room and warm up an iron . After a few minutes he came back with a red-glowing iron ; the cameramen took the position : one on feet and legs ; one to her face which was really getting in panic when she saw the hot iron .
The assistant came closer to her feet and touched briefly a tone with it . I heard a terrible cry , and tried to avoid the iron, but it was no , use . I saw how constantly he touched her feet and tones everywhere with the iron so they became full of black burned spots . This was not my style , we even could smell the burned flesh but this did not turn me on. What else could I do then keep still and watch . Her feet became full of burned black spots everywhere , her body was shaking like hell , her sounds were atrocious . Suddenly he stopped because it seems she did not move anymore : she lost consciousness . They stepped away , from the floor camera we could also see that she lost her urine . I saw it expiry of her legs and also the camera lens was wet . The cameramen did their job again and started to zoom in on her. Yvan stuck up his thumb, it seems the director gave compliments . Yvan whispered to us to start with the second position . First, we must tackle her body high from the ground and then let her fall. Then she must be tied outstretched on the bed with open legs. And so one assistant pushed the button from the tackle to lift her up, now she was hanging about 2m above the ground. The cameramen took their position: one on her body, the second on the floor. The assistant pushed the ‘open hook’ button, now with a big smash we saw and heard her body falling on the ground. Because of the smash, she started to move again, but on the screen we could see how her right-foot was in a broken position because of the blow on the floor.
Now Yvan came to me and whispered that if he gives the sign, I must go out in the corridor to give the instructions to the rape-team: to come in each on turn with a light up a cigarette, to open her mouth, to piss in it, make their dig hard on it and extinguish the cigarette against her pussy. Then to come in her pussy as brutal as possible. I was a bit confused, but said ‘ok ‘, what else could I do. Now I saw how the 2 assistants taking her wrists and dragged her across the floor to the old, sharp rusty bed . On the floor were traces of blood and urine . Now the other assistant came to help and took her feet, I saw terrible reactions of pain when he grabbed her right-foot because it was broken and burned everywhere. She began to cry again and to try to struggle a bit, which was no use of course . They threw her on the iron bed, removed the handcuffs , opened her arms and tie a strong rope around her wrists . Then each assistant took an ankle , put her legs over the trailing edge of the bed and tie her ankles firmly to the bed . Then they pulled the ropes around her wrists and attached them to the bed . She cried it out because this had to be very painful ; the old bed was rusty and full of sharp edges . There was even a floor camera under the bed : on the screen I could see her damaged back full of lines but now with much more blood . The cameraman started to zoom her from everywhere in close-up. Her body became more and more damaged with bloodlines everywhere: one tit without a nipple, feet were full of burning marks and one was seriously broken. Her face was almost intact, but I fear they will change it now. Now one of the assistants went behind the bed, took her by her hair and lifted her head up. I remember the wish of the ‘director ‘ that she must see everything . Now yvan gave me the sign to go outside and tell the instructions to the rape-men in the corridor. When I opened the door, I saw a bunch of very ugly , fat old stinking man full of tattoos . Almost everybody was smoking so there was no need to give them cigarettes. I told them the instructions and they started to laugh and joke telling ‘don’t worry new-one , we know our job’. So the first one came in, surrounded by the cameramen. He took place next to the bed , the eyes of ‘the object ‘ looked terrible . She tried to say ‘no please ‘ but nobody was listening… The fat , old stinking guy pulled his pants down and came on the bed over her . It was terrible to see this dirty , smelling dick in front of her face. Now he gave her a face slap , brutally opened her mouth and put his thing in it while he began to piss. It was disgusting! Then he took over the hair from the assistant and started to move her head brutally over his dick until it disappeared completely into her mouth . It looked like she was choking on it. After a minute he pulled out his dick out and indeed : it was large and stiff now . The assistant took her hair over and upright, her face. It looked really terrible : I bit blood was coming , also full of urine, mucus and some vomit . The stinking fat rapist took place in front of her open legs and extinguish the cigarette between her legs. She tried to scream, but her face was so distorted that it was not a scream anymore . One cameramen now constantly zoomed in on her face , the other to her pussy. Suddenly, the fat old stinking guy putted his dick in front of her pussy and in one big punch his big dick disappeared completely into her pussy. I saw on the screen how her face got terrible expressions . The man ejaculated a few times, pulled out his thing and went out of the room. The cameraman hurried him to film between her legs: one big mess of sperm and blood . Her face looked terrible, but the sounds was more moans now , I think she realized everything and hoped it will soon be over. For the first time in my life I saw a girl getting raped and tortured , soon murdered . I’m not like this and will never be like this . I must see this pure as a job ,which is terrible, but ‘brains on zero ‘ is all I can do.
Suddenly yvan whispered to an assistant that director is not happy that her tits and belly are still in a good shape , we must do something about it . ‘Get some barbed wire and whip her a bit’. This sounded so terrible , but it seems they do everything what is necessary to please the director. So the assistant went to the store-room again with 2 pieces of barbed wire . They took place on each site of the bed and started to whip softly but deep on tits and belly. The effect was terrible: her tits and belly was now one destroyed surface. Her body was so terrible shaking , her head moved around with her eyes closed , moaning and crying like hell , I have no words of it . The cameraman took some shots to film her belly and tits, completely destroyed. But she dit not pass out yet : she was still moving and moaning. Yvan put his thumb up and gave me a sign to let the second raper-guy come in . The assistant took place behind the bed , and lifted her head up by her hair . I opened the door and the next rape-guy came in . It was also a bold , fat stinking, guy full of tattoos . He took out his pants , gave her a few faces labs, came over and took place with his fat ass on her destroyed tits. He pulled her mouth open and putted his ugly stinking dig in it, begins to piss and then to move it like crazy . He pulled out his ugly dick , came to stand in front of her, pushed out his cigarette between her legs and in one big movement he planted his dick in her; he begins to ejaculate so very fast and hard that the whole bed was moving. Yvan told me now to let the 4 other men in telling them to work quickly. This was a terrible view ; while one was taking out his pants , another was filling her mouth with piss and his dick an another was raping very brutal her pussy . When the last raper-guy left the room , cameramen zoomed in on every spot of her body and we saw she was passed out. Her body was Full of sperm , urine, blood , destroyed skin. One assistant gave her a few face slabs to see if she was still alive and yes: moaning but no more tears and energy for crying . Yvan put up his thumb and said: ‘we have luck, it’s a strong bitch to carry on with!’. These words I would never forget. He gave a sign to the 2 assistants to her turn around because now the director wanted to see her get raped in the ass . So they went to ‘the subject ‘ to make her loose to turn . She offered no resistance, just like she had no more energy and just wanted to die soon . So now she was tied to the bed in another position : bending over , legs over the iron bed edge with arms outstretched . Yvan said that the next raper-guys must push their cigarette out into her ass before they go in it and , may not use any lube, and they must do it deep and fast . So I opened the door again and gave the instructions to the raper-men. ‘Ok, they said with a smile, a bit shitty but we can do it . The first same guy came in, ‘ went behind her, opened her buttocks and he pushed out his cigarette against her tiny asshole . The cameraman zoomed in on it. So we all could all see this . She was clearly awake again because we heard a terrible scream . Now he pulled down his pants and made his dick hard with his hands. When it was big enough, he opened her buttock maximum, lay the top from his dick to her burned asshole and in one big movement he entered it completely. She made a very loud scream but the guy began to ejaculate fast and deep. The view was disgusting when he came out: on the screen we saw his dig full of sperm , shit , blood . Between her buttocks there was a creek of blood . Yvan made movements with his hands to let next and the next guy in to do the same . So I did my job and let the men in, they all sodomised her in the same brutal way, and next guy and next but then she did not move anymore . Yvan said to send the rape-guys at home except the 2 best ones and he hoped she is not dead yet because the director now wanted to begin with the last phase. I went to the rape-guys to send them home except one while Yvan whispered the final instructions who were: to turn her around and tie her on her back with spread open arms and legs over the edge of the bed. The assistants made her loose and tied her into her last position. I realized now they will finish her in a horrible way, but I hope it will be faster for her so the suffering is finished. Once tied, the assistants throw a bucket of water over her head by miracle: we saw her head moving and heard her moaning. ‘Great’, said yvan: now the final faze while she is still alive. He said to an assistant that the director regrets that her face is still intact so go to her and give her a few hard punches up her mouth until we see some teeth.. I could not realize what I heard but knew it would happen and yes: the cameramen came in position while an assistant took her face and punched hard on her mouth, again and again. I saw blood squirting. Her lips destroyed and some teeth on her cheeks. The cameramen filmed everything, this time it was a horrible, ugly view, but still she moved a bit and made sound. He gave me the instruction to let one raper-guy and he had to come into her destroyed mouth. I went to the corridor and asked one of the guys and he said: nor problem man, I can come in everything.!’ The cameramen took their positions, the rape-guy came in, took a seat on her destroyed body, brutally grape her head and pulled her destroyed mouth over his dick. After a few minutes shaking we saw on the screen how he pulled out his dick, followed by sperm and blood. But it seems she was not moving anymore.. ‘Shit’, whispered Yvan and made a sign to the assistants to throw again some water over her. And yes, she moved a bit. ‘We have luck’ he said, the bitch is still alive… ‘Super ‘, whispered yvan to the assistants : ‘now go to the store-room , bring 2 iron dildo’s with pins , 2 clamps and electric wire . I could get an idea what they would do now . The assistants went into the store-room and came back with two terrible iron dildo’s ; they had nails in it and on the end was a metal ring . They came next to the bed and showed the things to her : she could not cry anymore , but could still shake her head with no ; that was everything . ‘Don’t ‘ worry , yvan said to me : even if they are death , the muscles still move a bit because of the electricity . Now the assistants first putted a pin-dildo into her pussy. Blood was streaming out , her moans were terrible . Now he putted the other pin-dildo into her ass . Terrible view, blood was streaming from her legs, but she was still at consciousness . Now they took 2 big iron clamps , like you put on a car-battery to reload , and putted them on what was left from her tits . Now they connected the dildos’s and clamps with electrical wire which ended on some device on the IT-man’s desk and was connected with his computer . ‘Look ‘ , whispered yvan: the director can control this now. On his screen he has a button switch to activate the shocks’. Everybody went away from the bed because it was full of water and blood around . The cameramen were zooming in from more distance. We still could see how she was breathing. Yvan communicated with his tablet to the director that everything as ready . The camera’s in the ceiling and under the bed gave us a view of every detail of her destroyed body. which was covered with blood and dirty stuff , her face was one mess, but her eyes were still open . Suddenly we saw her body, making an extreme curve , her belly came so hard up that her arms and legs were stretched out. It stopped, but out of her ass and vagina came a lot of blood . Suddenly her body curled up again , so hard that I saw the points of the pin-dildo’s coming through the skin of her belly. When it went down again, it was squirting blood from everywhere. A few minutes pause, again curling , shaking, more blood etc . ‘Look ‘ , said Yvan with a smile: ‘now the director sends us smileys to let us know he likes this.. The most terrible views was the close-up on the dildo’s :every time her body curled up ; a big creek of blood came out because of the nails in it. But now we saw the reactions were as good as nothing anymore, it seems her life was gone… The weird feeling is that I had no compassion, maybe because I considered also as a game and the shock would come later. Yvan whispered I must let the one raper –guy in and to tell him that he must pull out brutally the pin-dildos and rape her again. So I did it again; opened the door, tell the rape-guy what to do with the same answer: no problem. So the guy came in, removed in one movement the dildo’s out of her pussy and ass and the result was one bloody mess; nothing to realize this once was a nice girl. But still, he pulled down his pants , made his dick ready and came again, but this time in a dead body. He stood up, pulled out his dick full of blood and sperm and went away; the cameramen made their shots. It was horrible. When he left, it was complete silence in the room, all you could hear were the moves of the cameramen. On the screens we could see ‘the object’ from everywhere; the cameras on the ceiling, in the floor, from the cameramen: we could see every spot on her body and like the ‘client’ wanted: it was destroyed, completely unrecognizable.
Suddenly Yvan clapped his hands and said : ‘good work guys , we are off-line : let’s clean this shit here’. Now everybody took off his forage cap, me also . The assistants removed her earrings, removed the ‘the body ‘ from the bed and thruway it into the big plastic bin. Yvan gave me a sign to help so I started to collect things from the floor like pieces of clothes which I also had to throw in the bin. I saw the pin-dildo and hesitatingly I picked it up. It was a terrible object: a rubber dildo in which nails were inserted. It was full of blood and even pieces of meat and skin. One of the assistants saw this and showed me a green plastic box and said: ‘throw the toys in this, we disinfect them in this’. After a while, 2 ugly guys came in and disappeared with the big, so also ‘the object. Now the assistants gave me the garden hose and asked me to spray everything with water . It was easy to clean because it was like in a swimming-pool and the bed & tackle were from metal . When it was finished , they sprinkled everything with – Dettol – . Now I understand why I would need spare-clothes . Now Sergei came in and said : ‘this was an introduction , here is your reward but next time you will be one of the assistants ‘ and gave me an envelope . I opened it and , as promised there was € 3000 in it . I never had so much cash money cash in my hand . They told me he would lead me outside where the driver would bring me home . He will contact me for the next show when they know the date . I took my bag and changed my clothes in the corridor. Together we went upstairs , outside , got in the black Mercedes and the driver which could not speak brought me to the same address where he picked me up .
And so my story ends here . If people want to know how my first mission ended, I can write a follow-up. Or maybe a professional author can improve my English language and to publish it in professional story’s . Anyway; if possible I hope to get donations because I’m a poor rat again so I need it; leave a message if you want to support. Thank you. Yvantheterrible at protonmail dot com
It was late and as I walked home from the party I wrapped my coat tight around my shoulders. It wasnâ€™t too cold, but the night air was crisp and cool against my face and I didnâ€™t want it to penetrate through to my body as I made my way home. I was dressed in a little black halter neck dress, high strappy shoes that clip clopped clumsily along the pavement and a little black lace thong, the coat offering no protection to the kiss of the night air in my most intimate place. I was so uncomfortable, my feet crying out for the comfort of my sneakers. <br /> <br />I walked through the silent streets, dreading the moment when I would have to walk down the alley. Everyone knows about the alley. It is dark and dirty…always wet. <br /> <br />Hmmm a bit like me, I chuckled to myself. <br /> <br /> <br />The alley is notorious for the riff raff it attracts. Numerous girls have gone missing in the area apparently from using the alley, but it is the only way connecting the two streets without using the â€œdeath trapâ€ road a few metres away. You take your chances either way. <br /> <br />I felt confident and determined as I entered the alley, the moon shedding some light over the ever moist brick walls towering either side, never getting dried out by the sun. They almost seemed to sparkle, and if it hadnâ€™t been for the looming mist creeping forwards half way down the passageway, it would have looked quite pretty. <br /> <br />Unable to make out the end of the alley, my pulse started to race a little. I decided to jog slightly…hurrying to my exit as I began to realise what a bad idea this was. An on-coming car was starting to look rather appealing. Without further hesitation I breathed in deep and made my way forward. The alley swallowed me up and I couldnâ€™t turn back…even if I wanted to. <br /> <br />As I made my way along the spongy moss covered concrete, I thought I heard footsteps following from behind. I turned my face slightly while still walking forward, the heavy thud echoed louder as my ear turned to the source of the sound. I couldnâ€™t see anyone behind me, but I could still hear the hypnotic rhythm of my impending doom. I started to panic as I picked up pace. I turned my head forward and tripped, landing on my hands and knees, ruby droplets started to seep from the tiny little scrapes and grazes that had appeared there. <br /> <br />I cried out and as I knelt on the damp concrete below me I saw two black, highly polished shoes. Shaking, my eyes travelled upwards. A pair of very smart black trousers caged me and I felt relief at the thought of this well dressed gentleman finding me, and not some young thug…or monstrous murderer. <br /> <br />As my gaze travelled up his body, I noticed he was wearing a simple smart black shirt and a black leather strap round his neck, a gothic silver cross hung low on his chest between the half unbuttoned shirt. His skin was pale and glistening in the moonlight and his arms were exposed with the cuffs of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. I could see the veins pulse in his forearms under his pale skin and I felt my insides react at the sight. My hands began to tremble and I knew I was aroused. <br /> <br />He reached out for me, offering his hand. As I looked into his eyes, which were sinister pools of craving, I saw a hint of kindness. His features were fierce and angular, striking in a handsome way. His hair, a rich bronze, hung into his eyes and stuck out in a stylish mess, he looked like he had just stepped out of a hair gel advert. <br /> <br />My heart was racing as I found myself reaching out to take his hand. He pulled me up as if it was no problem at all and pulled my body flush with his. I felt myself melt against his cold hard chest and I knew there and then that I was his. I would do anything he asked, he had me completely. <br /> <br />While staring intently into his eyes he searched mine in return. It felt like he was looking into my soul. I felt him raise my scraped hand up between us and he snaked his tongue out across the tiny cuts on my palm. He licked them tenderly at first, like he was trying to heal the abrasions. I was transfixed; watching as he cleaned my palm like a dog would clean his wounds. His licking grew more vigorous and extended up my arm. As he began to tear at me I started to scream, he was shredding my coat like it was tissue paper, leaving me stood in only the black dress. <br /> <br />He pushed me up against the alley wall and pushed his lips into mine, tasting, caressing, massaging with his tongue. I reciprocated, he tasted divine and I couldnâ€™t get enough. I felt my thighs catch fire and the flames in my belly erupt causing me to push against him and moan. He didnâ€™t react to my pressure…he was like stone wall. I was wedged firmly between the cold brick and the cold marble statue in front of me. I couldnâ€™t escape if I wanted to. <br /> <br />His lips travelled down my chin, explored my neck and finished at my breasts as he roughly pushed them together and buried his face in them. I felt his knee push between my thighs, causing me to spread my legs as his hand snaked its way to where I needed it most. He groaned as his fingers found my saturated lace thong. <br /> <br />â€œSo fucking hot,â€ he growled into my ear. <br /> <br />His words caused my body to shake with need as I desperately wanted this handsome stranger, this animal, this predator to fuck me in the cold wet alley. <br /> <br />â€œTake me…I am yours,â€ I pleaded. <br /> <br />With that he ravished my body forcefully. His lust penetrating deep into me as he ripped my thong off with ease and it landed on the floor. He began rubbing my throbbing swollen clit, pinching and flicking it like an expert pianist. My juices flowed freely, I was ready for him. He brought his wet fingers up to my breast and rubbed them over my erect nipple. Teasing the firm little bud he sucked and licked them; I was groaning and panting, wild with desire. Then I felt something sharp pinch me just below my nipple at the full part of my breast. I was confused at the sensation and I screamed out, but then it was gone and his fingers returned to my dripping cunt, oozing with itâ€™s need to be filled. <br /> <br />I heard the sound of a zipper and then felt something large and cold pressed at the entrance to my hot pulsing cunt. I ground myself forward, wanting him to fill me and make me his. As he grabbed my ass with both hands he lifted me up slid me onto his cock…filling me in one deep thrust. I wrapped my legs round his waist and clung to his neck and he forcefully thrust into me over and over again. I was being hammered into the wall behind me and I didnâ€™t care. I could feel my orgasm building and I wanted to feel it all…the pain…the pleasure…the fear of being fucked by a cold dark stranger. <br /> <br />As he impaled me repeatedly with his throbbing cock I started to quake with my orgasm, feeling the fire erupt through my veins and my cunt clinging to his cock…not wanting to release it. <br /> <br />â€œOh…god…fuck…yes…Iâ€™m…Iâ€™m…cumming…fuuuckk…!â€ <br /> <br />My cunt spilled with juices as I milked his cock for all it was worth. As my orgasm began to fade I felt him grinning at my neck…just under my ear. I smiled too, my eyes closed as I basked in my post orgasmic bliss, until I felt a searing pain tear through me. My whole insides collapsed as I felt another orgasm rip through me like nothing I have ever felt before. My insides exploded and my vision blurred as I felt him bite into my neck and suck hard. <br /> <br />As I started to go numb and my vision disappeared, the last thing I heard was… <br /> <br />â€œMine…mine forever…â€ <br /> <br />Then darkness. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />
Shelley had heard the stories before it happened to her. Here in the outreaches of a South American outback, she had found this cabin where she could be alone and gather her thoughts. She had come here to get over the hurt she had encountered from a broken marriage and a broken relationship. Of necessity, she had contact with the local tribes-people – which is where she had heard many stories of the strange legends and creatures of the forest. And where she had first heard of the people that were called, what was roughly translated into, ‘The Bearers’.
These were women who bore the young of some mysterious creatures that lurked in the forest. Oddly enough, despite the apparent horror of what they went through, these women were held in high regard – as if they were a chosen few. She thought it was all just legend and folklore nonsense, of course – until they came to visit her.
And Shelley remembered that first time when she could not understand nor fight the strange, exciting urge that beckoned her to strip and venture into the jungle. She remembered her stark shock when she first saw them. She had surprised herself at how little fear or loathing she felt – there again, during the telling of the stories it was apparent that none of the ‘Bearers’ had ever suffered or come to harm. Curiously, she just submitted to them and was rewarded with a delightful experience.
They came to her since then once every four weeks or so, which made her wonder whether they knew of or at least sensed the female menstrual cycle. It was mid-afternoon now, hot and humid as she gradually divested herself or her clothes. They were summoning her again. The heavy pheromones they were releasing were again seducing Shelley’s inhibitions and luring her into her lust delirium that drove her to the monthly impregnation ritual. She inhaled deeply and let the delicious opiate fill her head. Looking down at herself, she could admit that her body was still firm, her breasts jutting out proudly, and her belly still relatively flat. She ran her hands slowly over her body and delighted in the sensuous glow overcoming her.
She realized that her nipples were beginning to stand out as if her body anticipated the coming events. How perverse, she thought, here she was a seemingly respectable city girl about to experience something the strange horror of which would send most right-minded women to slash their wrists to avoid. She was about to be sexually ravaged by strange forest creatures and she would come back impregnated with their child!
Stepping out onto the porch, she felt a slight warm breeze caress her body. Walking away from her shack, she plodded into the forest ready to fulfil her responsibilities.
Arriving at the clearing she maintained for their rendezvous, where the procedure would take place, she noticed that they had already arrived and were waiting for her. As usual, there were four of them – the two ‘guardians’ whose purpose was to restrain her, and the male and female of the species who would perform the implanting and impregnation.
Had she been asked to describe them, she would have been at a loss, as she (and, she suspected, precious few others) had ever seen them. Around 18 inches high they resembled, as best, a cross between and octopus and a scorpion. The main bulk of the body was leathery in appearance, but with large black doleful eyes perched on the top – a bit like those of a crab. But it was the tendrils (or tentacles whatever they were) that made them quite unlike anything she could have imagined. Six of these were obviously for traction or grasping, but she knew that the male and female differed in that they each had a seventh special-purpose tendril.
She felt something brush against her ankle and, looking down, realized that the male was wrapping one of its tendrils around her leg, as if urging her on. ‘Horny little devil’ she smiled to herself before lowering herself down and lying on the vegetation on the floor of the clearing.
The two guardians had taken position either side of her and she felt their tentacles reach out and grab an arm and leg each. Her arms were pulled outwards while the others pulled her legs open and upwards to allow easy access to her sexual organs.
Bound and pinned thus, she was as firmly restrained and held down as if by ropes and staves. Even without the restraints, however, she knew that she would gladly have lain there and submitted to them. These were welcome and well-accustomed friends, she felt safe and comfortable with them.
She felt the movement between her legs as the female moved forward and, wrapping her coils around Shelley’s body, pulled herself up onto her belly. The female settled herself there and then wound her two hind most tendrils gently but firmly around each of Shelley’s upper thighs as the centre tendrils embraced Shelley’s waist. Almost perceptively, the foremost tendrils stroked her sides in a soothing caress.
The female had a special protrusion to her rear, much like the tail of a scorpion, which could be turned upward or downward. But Shelley knew that there, the similarity ended. This was a highly unusual and versatile tool which would play a vital part in the first stage of the breeding.
Once in position, the female brought down her tail until it nestled against the outer lips of Shelley’s vulva. The ‘stinger’ began a slow caress up and down between Shelley’s labia, groping for her vagina, stimulating her erogenous zone, prompting Shelley’s genitals for the impending sexual congress. As the stinger caressed her, the opening at its tip secreted its slick, gooey coital fluid, preparing the passage for ease of entry and with the fluid came more of those heady pheromones. Shelley inhaled them deeply into her lungs and then let out a soft moan as the rush overwhelmed her and touched off a light, satisfying orgasm. From the tip of the stinger, the probe began to emerge and carefully felt for Shelley’s vagina. Gently, the female began to push the probe into her body, slowly inching into and up her vagina. The stinger planted itself over the vaginal opening and its mouth flared outward to cover Shelley’s labia, making a secure, shielding seal.
Shelley gasped with pleasure at the intrusion and closed her eyes, trying to relax as the female pushed ever deeper into her body. Inside her, she could feel the tendril snake its way gently up her vagina. She could hear a feint gurgling sound as the invading appendage surged and swirled within her. The stinger’s mouth-like opening slurped and smacked against Shelley’s mons as it plied its probe within her. Copious secretions seeped past their united organs and streamed lugubriously down her crotch. It always tickled her in an erotic way as it crept its way into her, urging on her arousal. Shelley’s hips rocked gently as she enjoyed the delicate incursion. The tendril curled and spun within her wet clingy confines, stimulating her uterus to lift and poise itself for sexual union while relaxing her for the upcoming procedure. Shelley surrendered herself to the creature’s attentions, rising with the seductive sensations until they peaked and she was rewarded with another, deeper climax.
Eventually, Shelley felt the tip of the probe nudge against her cervix. It groped around there, determining its whereabouts, centring itself, pushing hard now to ensure a good connection. The probe was, in fact, a tube and inside was another, specially adapted tendril. Within the tube also, were the ova, which Shelley would carry. Now she could feel something push against the opening of her cervix. The egg would be not much bigger than the end-joint of her little finger, and soft and pliant in its makeup. The female, having positioned the ovum at the opening now began to push upwards.
Shelley let out a small gasp as it began its journey up that narrow tube. Despite the narrowness of her cervix and the size of the intrusion, she was surprised that she felt no pain – just an odd, pleasurable sensation as the ovum was pushed deeper and deeper into her body.
The female’s probe continued to push upwards into her cervix until, at last, Shelley could feel a presence in her womb – the egg was in! Now, the female had extended her probe right into Shelley’s womb and she could feel it move about inside her, presumably making sure that the egg was secure and comfortable in the inviting warmth of its host.
Apparently satisfied, Shelley could feel the tendril being withdrawn from her womb, down her cervix and, finally, the female began to extract the tube from her vagina. It made a slurpy sound as it pulled free of her vagina and the stinger broke its kiss with her vulva.
Its purpose fulfilled, Shelley could feel the female relax. Her tendrils slowly unwound their clutch of Shelley’s body and weakly lifted her body above Shelley’s belly, dragging her limp stinger behind her like a wounded arm. The female paused for a moment to gather strength and then slithered off her belly, lifted her stinger over her body and scuttled gingerly off to the side. Shelley looked after her with the concern of an intimate friend. Now she could feel the two guardians tighten their grip on her legs and thighs, pulling them further outwards while pulling her knees upwards so that her back arched slightly off the ground, exposing her orifices fully.
She felt the movement between her thighs, the tendrils reaching upwards across her belly, the bulk of the male drawing itself up between her outstretched legs and rubbing across her exposed nether regions. She let out a gasp of anticipation as he moved upwards and inwards, wrapping his body around her and enveloping all of her crotch from her pubis to her buttocks. His fore-tendrils reached upwards and wrapped around her slim waist to hold him against her pubis, his centre tendrils wrapped around her up-turned thighs in order to secure his position and pull himself closer, his hind tendrils reached under her butt, crossed her back and gripped her hips to pull his body around her crotch.
She could feel a nudging to her rear, pushing between the cheeks of her buttocks as his seventh tendril began its journey to anchor him to her body. Pushing inwards between her yielding cheeks, it lightly touched the tight little ring of her anus, gently teasing and lubricating it with more pheromone rich coital fluid. The intoxicating aroma reached Shelley’s head and again she succumbed to another sweet, fulfilling climax. As it swept over her, Shelley could feel her sphincter muscles relax and contract in anticipated rhythm until eventually, she relaxed completely and opened up to him.
The probe pushed up against the now unresisting entrance, about the thickness of a man’s little finger tip at first, it pushed easily into her receptive anus. She let out another groan of pleasure as it continued its journey inwards, thickening now to the width of a thumb until she could feel the larger bulb pressing against the entrance. Willing herself to relax, she opened herself up even more to allow the large protrusion to push its way inwards, stretching her anal opening until it almost hurt then, with an inaudible pop, it was inside her.
Waves of delirium began to engulf her as she could feel the tendril in her rectal passage moving, turning, with the creature using it to pull himself even closer to her exposed body.
Now she could feel the second probe, gently working around the front of her vagina. This thin, deft tendril would have a different and unique purpose. She could detect it now feeling around at the entrance to her urethra. This had been entirely new to her that first time but now she waited with eager anticipation as the thin tendril gently pushed against the opening and into her pee-tube. She could feel it slithering steadily inwards and upwards until, finally, she sensed it deep inside her bladder.
The male now began to drink; she could feel it, as the liquid drained out of her bladder. The process (or taste) seemed to excite him as he grasped her more urgently and the anchor tendril coiled stronger inside her rectum, pulling him tighter.
Having drained her, he now began to inject his own fluid into her body. Again, she only had her senses to guide her, but she estimated that the males pumped quite a bit of the nutrient into her bladder as she could discernibly feel it begin to expand under the pressure.
Against the lips of her vagina, she could feel him begin to grow the third tendril. Unlike a human penis that dwelt external from the body, his was retractable and literally extended out of his body directly into hers. The emerging organ now pushed against the lips of her vagina, the secretions and his mate’s prior enticements helping its smooth penetration. Shelley felt the lips urged apart as the member began to enter her, moving on into the damp warmth of her vagina. Her head lolled back against the vegetation beneath her, she cried out with pleasure at the new intrusion.
She could feel the anchor probe in her anus and the tendril, still deep within her bladder, pulling at her to ensure his even penetration. The inseminating appendage continued to grow outwards from the creature, pushing deeper and deeper into Shelley’s insides. Again she heard the obscene gurgling sound as the delving penile implant crept into the intimate reaches that a woman reserves for lovers only. She had no idea of its width, but she surmised that it was thicker than a human phallus though, with its gradual growth and the mucous it secreted she accepted his intrusion easily and with delight.
He was filling her now, conforming to her inner contours, pushing deeper until she could feel him nudge against the base of her cervix. There, the end of his organ pushed firmly against the entrance and she could feel what must have been like lips closing around the opening, effectively sealing himself to her. He was now prepared for insemination.
He began an action, which always drove her over the edge towards a transportation of delight. His whole organ began to pulsate, undulate and throb deep within her and against the lips of her vagina sending waves of ecstasy through her body. Sensing his time was fast approaching, he began to distend his anal anchor probe. Shelley felt it thicken and the bulb, which nestled within her anal muscles, began to throb and swell rhythmically, pulling them even closer until she felt that, under other circumstances, she would have cried out with pain. As his small body worked fervently against her crotch their contact began to make a slight, telltale sexual smacking sound. Unconsciously, her hips began to roll in time to his rhythmic pulling as if pushing up to meet a lover’s welcome thrust. Within her vagina, his main probe began to swell, exaggerating the sensations she felt within her whole passage. On and on he surged in her. The billowing, throbbing, undulating organ worked against the walls of her vagina, tugging and pushing, slipping and sliding against her delicate intimate flesh. Shelley’s pampered senses were propelling her to an impending, inevitable crescendo.
She could tell by his clasping, along with the increased grip of the guardians, that the moment was close. The creature seemed to give one last lunge before beginning its convulsions. Human sex had never been like this event, where the male pumped his sperm into her vagina. The human penises she had known did not come close to establishing such a presence in her as this organ; it was so large and so lively. A man’s penis issued its seed in a brief, barely discernable squirt issued haplessly into her vagina, not at all like the tremendous flow this vessel was about to deliver. As he began to ejaculate, she could feel the semen jet and gush up the narrow tube of her cervix, directly into her womb. On and on he pumped until she could feel her stomach swell with that precious, impregnating liquid.
Shelley threw back her head and screamed and cried in orgasm – her whole body wracked with the most intense, almost unbearable pleasure. Combined with the overpowering effect of the pheromones, her climax lingered and extended into what amounted to a fit of pleasure that always left her weak and powerless as the mating party withdrew.
Slowly, she subsided and could feel her alien lover begin to loosen his grip on her. She could have cried with frustration as he slowly began to withdraw his tendrils first from her bladder, then the impregnating organ and, finally and slowly, she felt the bulb being drawn from her ravaged rectum.
The guardians slowly slackened their pull on her legs until her butt gently rested back on the ground. Now it was the male’s turn to wearily lift his body from her and make his exit. He untied his coils from her legs and waist and braced them on the ground. With a sticky slurp he broke his contact with Shelley’s crotch and hovered over her waist.
Glancing up at his underside, Shelley quickly inspected the weapons just used on her. She saw the hole from which his urethra probe emerged, she saw the still swollen anal anchor toward the back of his body and she marvelled that she had taken it. What grabbed her attention most was his penile tube. Still too bloated to retract all the way back into his body, the fat, tender looking appendage hung below him about the length of Shelley’s thumb and continued to drip the last remnants of his seminal solution. He shakily rose as high as he could over her, stepped to her side, lowered himself a little and then slithered off on his tentacles in an undulating motion. As he parted, another dose of his pheromones wafted up from his underside and her exposed crotch, lapsing her back into a nice climactic repose.
The guardians released her and withdrew. Oblivious to them, she languished on the soft ground in the now still clearing and enjoyed her post-coital recuperation without concern. Shelley knew she was now being watched and she would be looked after and protected from harm. She lazily drew an arm over her chest and hugged her breasts to her as she traced small circles in her matted pubic hair with her other hand. She rested for a few minutes before rising and walking slowly back towards her shack, the excess sperm trickling down the inside of her leg.
At the edge of her porch she drew a pail of water from the cistern and squatted with her back against a post. She splashed water over her sex and then scrubbed the slick residue from her hair and skin with her wet hands. After a brisk rinse, she cupped her palm over her vulva and contemplated her role. Life grew in her, left there not by a lover but by mysterious forest creatures. Her womanhood was vital in this place. Rising to her feet, she kept her hand over her sex and stared out into the forest, ‘Are they watching me?’ She was feeling weary from her ordeal. Now she went to her bunk, drew the netting and lay in a grateful sleep. The gestation period was around 24 hours, but the first stage would begin within about twelve.
She had awoken a couple of times as she could feel the movement of the new life within her. Then, she was awake, as she could feel that the time was near. Deep within her, she could feel her body prepare itself – it seemed that something inside her was opening up, and she knew that her cervix was preparing for the passage.
Now she felt her body begin to spasm, and the sensation of the young life beginning to push its way out. It had found its way to her cervix, and was now pushing downwards and into the narrow tube. Taking deep breaths, Shelley forced herself to relax as it forced its way into the cervical passage, and downwards. This was the only time she would really feel any kind of pain but somehow, even the pain was pleasant as her tube was stretched to accommodate its passage. Eventually, she could feel him emerge from her uterus into the cavity of her vagina, could feel its tendrils in there exploring and anchoring himself.
She now relaxed, with the youngster nestled in the warmth of her vagina and could feel its feeding tendril begin to push outwards. She reached down, and pulled open the lips of her vagina to help it and, looking down there, could see the thin tendril emerge and curl round until it found what it wanted.
She could see the tendril move towards her urethra, gently but urgently push against the entrance until, with a gasp from Shelley, it penetrated her. She lay back and let the tendril make its journey upwards until she could feel it enter her bladder and the creature begin to drink greedily from the nutrient fluid deposited there earlier by its father.
Odd, she thought, she almost felt maternal towards the little critter. More odd still that this intricate relationship could have evolved and carry on unknown to the outside world for centuries. And completely baffling, that this quite natural understanding could emerge between them without any communication at all. Satisfied that the youngster was safe, secure and feeding, she fell into deep sleep.
The following morning, she arose and went about her usual morning chores – tidying up and making herself some breakfast. She found it relatively easy to move around, even with the growing life within her vagina.
Her chores done, she sat in one of the reclining chairs on the porch. The youngster within her was growing rapidly, helped by the nutrient it fed on within her body, and she could feel her vagina begin to distend. It would now be about the size of a woman’s fist but would grow a bit more, before emerging into the world.
Eventually, she could feel the time was near, and began a slow walk towards the clearing. Due to the size of the creature within her, walking was now a more delicate affair as she tried to keep her legs apart.
Reaching the clearing, she could see the male and female awaiting her – the expectant nervous parents, she thought.
Pulling up her skirt, she lay down on the vegetation, pulled up and opened her legs wide for the final stage. Propped up on her elbows she stared down at her sex to witness the miracle of life with her mating partners.
Suddenly, she felt the movement within her increase as the youngster prepared for its birth. The tendril slowly pulled out from her urethra, and the creature began to push outwards. She could feel its main tendrils emerge from within her and these curled back and pressed against her skin to help it pull itself out. Now the size of a man’s hand, the creature was stretching her almost to the point of pain. Shelley gritted her teeth and pushed downwards to help it until, suddenly, she felt it emerge with something approaching a slurping sound. She felt the trust and acceptance of the parents, as they required no guardians to restrain her now. They both approached until they were between her knees, the male cupped his tendrils before her vagina to catch his offspring.
Looking down, she could see it now – the creature which had found life within her womb, she had carried and, her body at least, had nurtured. It clung to his coils and he bore it off into the undergrowth.
The female approached cautiously and tentatively extended a tentacle under Shelley’s thigh and around her hip. Shelley responded to the prompt and being careful not to bump the female, threw her leg over, rolled onto her stomach and then rose to her hands and knees. The creature wrapped a strong tendril around Shelley’s waist and deftly pulled herself up and perched upon Shelley’s rump. The female’s tentacles braced herself on Shelley’s hips and thighs in a supportive manner, not at all like the tenuous, restraining way during implantation. Shelley lowered her head to watch the coming event.
Arching her stinger beneath her, the female curled it behind Shelley’s butt and brought the appendage upward in contact once again with Shelley’s open, swollen vagina. Shelley watched intently as the end of the stinger opened up in a vertical slit and broad lips spread out and enveloped her outer labia. The strange, mouth-like orifice mounted, clasped and sucked at Shelley’s sex. Once a firm connection was made with her pubic mound Shelley felt the inner tendril gently part her labia, opening a passage and then the female began to secrete a fluid down into Shelley’s birth canal.
This was obviously some sort of postpartum procedure, an anaesthetic/antiseptic to heal her, prevent infection and prepare her for next month’s cycle. Shelley never refused it, it felt like a soothing, warm douche and she saw it as a special bonding moment. The fluid filled her vagina and then started to seep into her uterus. Once a goodly amount of fluid was injected, the creature slowly drew it out and then slowly pushed it back in making a steady, gentle current. Shelley watched transfixed as the coupled organs passed the fluid back and forth between their bodies, like two mouths kissing. The fluid sloshed and gurgled as it flowed between them. Some of it drooled out at small gaps in their contact. The stinger’s mouth adjusted its purchase and made distinctive kissing and smacking sounds as it worked on Shelley. With two free tentacles, the female began to gently stroke and caress Shelley. They rolled along her sides and belly and slid up and down her back. They delicately curled and twisted over her thighs.
Shelley remembered how the female always tenderly stroked her during implant and wondered about this strange procreative dependence as this creature tended to her sex organs that she had just lent it. There seemed to be such care and concern in this creature. Shelley wondered if they really cared or if they only needed her for her womb. Were they intelligent or just highly organized? Did they enjoy this contact or was it just instinct? Shelley reached back with her hand and placed it over the tentacle on her thigh. She was thrilled as the tip of the tendril curled up in the palm of her hand and then lightly caressed her wrist. She didn’t know how long their therapy session lasted; it seemed it was always over too soon. With one final smack and a slurp the female pulled away the stinger from her vulva and the medicinal fluid gushed out and splattered on the ground between Shelley’s knees. She slowly eased herself down the back of Shelley’s thighs. She hovered there a bit, examining Shelley’s sex with a swipe of a tendril, and then slowly backed into the forest.
Shelley wearily stood up and paused for a moment to let the remains of the juices run out of her vagina and down her leg. Opening her legs in a semi-crouch, she peed, relieving herself of what was left within her and watched the remains of the deep blue liquid stream onto the forest floor. She smoothed down her skirt and parted for home.
Her mind went back to what she had asked herself before. She couldn’t stay here forever. Some day, her reproductive years would come to an end. Some day, she would have to go back home, to live in the city. But what about her duty to these creatures, who relied on her and her body to bring forward new life – or was she perhaps thinking that, after what she had experienced, ‘normal’ sex would never be quite the same again.