The Garden

He rubbed his hands together gleefully. At long last it was here…the plant he had long searched for. Said to be nearly extinct, said to be housed in carefully guarded, extremely private conservatories, he had finally found a purveyor of the exotic.

Carefully, gently, he sliced through the packing tape, and eased open the box. Inside a second box, wrapped in plastic, with several moisture packs. He knew that inside that box would be self-heating pads, meant to keep his precious darling safe on its journey to him.

“Uvam Lignam Viriditas.” He spoke in a hushed whisper as he sliced through the plastic, and opened the inner box. With hands that trembled from sheer joy, he reached in and lifted the plant.

“Sour Stickweed, indeed. Your Latin name sounds far more elegant that this mundane name.” Bringing it to his face, he kissed it softly. It was the last thing he ever did.

Twenty-five Years Later…

The house had been listed for sale for more than two decades. The previous owner had disappeared, and his great nephew had no desire to take on the crumbling manse. Because the property had been let go, the roof caved in on the north side, letting rain water seep into the attic. It eventually led to a hole that extended, over time, all the way to the first floor. Bird roosted in the rafters, mice skittered on the second, but only the plants in the conservatory occupied the first floor.

Cori stood looking at the ruined building. She supposed that once upon a time it had been grand. Her boss must truly hate her, to give her the assignment of assessing the building, and putting an auction price on it.

“Zero,” she muttered. “I’d pay zero dollars for this. The land is great, but so overgrown it could rightfully be called an jungle. The house is a goner.” With a sigh, she adjusted her helmet, with headlamp, and grabbed her flashlight. “Might as well do this before all the light goes,” she grumbled.

The stone steps were still sturdy. The front door hung just slightly askew and she worried about rats. She had her workboots on, but still. The air inside was warm, humid, actually, and smelled of a sweet perfume.


She turned on the headlamp, and her flashlight, playing the beams around the front entrance. With a deep sigh, she pushed open the door, and discovered wonderland. Plants grew in mad profusion everywhere. Tall trees that must be oranges bore thick and luscious balls that were shades of green and orange, just like they were supposed to be. She walked on, mouth open. There were tall grasses, and pathways winding through the foliage. She heard running water, and turned her light in that direction. Somewhere upstairs, a pipe had broken. The stream ran down the marble staircase and cascaded to a dip in the floor, filling a shallow pool of water, before spilling out of the pond and sluicing off between two thick trees. She didn’t see any sign of humans, nor animals. though she had seen a few birds winging out of the roof when she’d pulled up in her truck.

Following the flow, she stepped into the deep tropics. The solarium had several broken panes where tall palms had pushed through and reached for the sky. Below, vines and shrubs bloomed in humid profusion. Here, the little stream from the foyer trickled down three short steps and pooled over the sunken floor. Water lilies bloomed in shades of purple, pink, white, and yellow. The flowering vines gave off more of the intoxicating scent she’d smelled when she first came through the front doors.

“This is amazing. A-mazing.” She turned in a slow circle, trying to take it all in. Nature was definitely reclaiming this space, and in grand fashion. “It’s wicked hot in here,” she said, shaking out of her jacket. She laid it over the twirly knob on the door. “I need to find the living quarters, the kitchen,” she mused, lifting her phone to snap pictures of the space. Something bumped her boot and she squealed. Looking down, she saw a plant.

“Well, where did you come from?” she asked it, laughing at her nerves. Two tendrils shot up and wrapped around her ankles.

“Whoa!” she said, trying to kick free. They might as well have been made of steel. Bending down, she began tugging at the vine around her right ankle, even as the left one began creeping up her leg.

“Hey HEY! OMG I can see it growing. This is weird!” Grabbing for her phone she tried to dial 911, but another seeking tendril plucked it out of her hand.



The voice was soft, muted. She was sure she was hearing things. A vine wrapped tightly around her upper thigh, slipped up her belly and into the space between two buttons on her shirt. She felt the warm softness of it, like a pussy willow, almost, as it slithered up against her skin.

“Jeeze NO…om…shit! Stop…”

Her wrists were captured, and somehow it had tugged her slowly to the ground. She didn’t fall, she knew she didn’t, but one moment she was upright, and the next she was laying on a cushion of vines. She was wrapped too tightly to move. Another vine was creeping under the waistband of her jeans, others slipping up inside her pant legs.

She felt a tug on her left nipple, a quick piercing prick. She arched as she felt it, felt it stabbing her nipple. The nipple began to tighten, then throb. It grew bigger, harder, feeling like it was going to explode. Inside her jeans, vines merged, pressing against her underpants, seeking the warm apex of her thighs. She felt quivery, lightheaded, and an incredible heat bloomed between her legs.

Head thrown back, body bowed, her nipples now both injected with some sort of plant venom, she stiffened as the most intense orgasm of her life shuddered through her. As the moisture dampened her panties, the vines wriggled under the elastic, and plunged forcefully into her cunt. The orgasm grew stronger, her mouth opened in a soundless scream as she came so hard she thought she would die. Her legs trembled, her nipples began to ooze milk, and her breasts pressed, fuller than they’d ever been, ready to burst free of her constricting clothing. The vines, twined together in a huge phallus, thrust into her, seeking more of her sweet juice. Several others sought entry, but she was full. Her anus slowly gave way to their probing. Another shuddering orgasm tore through her. The vines were squeezing her tits, coiled ’round them tightly, repeatedly stabbing her nipples with the small barbs. Shaking and convulsing, her pussy sprayed fluid, cum dripping through her jeans. The probing tendrils writhed in glory at all the sweet creamy goodness flowing over them, and continued to thrust until it found her deepest, warmest place. She screamed as the tendrils breached her cervix, pushing against her womb. There was a pulsing that she felt from the vine, and a sudden shocking feeling of terrible fullness. The pain was intense, but the orgasm that clenched her cunt around the intruding vines was even more wicked. With a gasping moan, she fainted.

When she woke up, she was laying on the floor.

“Oh shit, I peed myself,” she said to no one. “I must have slipped on the wet marble…” she felt her head, but didn’t find a sore spot. “Guess I was lucky. Don’t seem to be hurt.”

She put her hand on her grumbling belly. “Horny and hungry. Man. I need to get some time with my man.” The sexual need was intense, though she remembered none of the rape she’d experienced.

Rising, she gathered her phone, her flashlight. The day was all but faded.

“Okay, house, I’ll be back tomorrow.”


we babies will have

seeds were planted?

she carries them warm they come soon


tomorrow we finising using the huuman for babies

they come back to us she plant outside. we grow.

good. hooman femaaale taste better than hooman man.



She understood how people felt back in the medieval days, strung out upon a rack. Her wrists were drawn so tightly that she could barely flex her fingers. Her thighs were tied open, spread embarrassingly wide, and her ankles bound too.

Open. Vulnerable.

He sat, a dark shape across the room. The light shining upon her body threw him into shadow. If not for the occasional shift of his body, she would have thought he had left. But no, he lingered there, staring at her.

She swore she could feel the weight of that glance, touching her tits, her nipples, drawn tightly into buds in the cool room. Perhaps she could feel his eyes stroking her pussy, each succulent lip devoured in a look. Her clit was swollen with her humiliation.


After forever and another minute passed, a creak from across the room drew her attention. He stood, moved towards her. From the shadow that was his form, a hand appeared in the light that bathed her body. A finger trailed up from her toes to her ankle. It slipped up along her inner calf, before curling up and around her knee.

“Oooh,” she squealed, trying unsuccessfully to move away. Silly, since she could barely wiggle her bottom. It set her fat tits to bobbling, though, and the finger rose from her ticklish knee to flick at one bouncing nipple. Her moan changed, deepened.

“This is desire. Arousal. The need to be touched…”

She swore she could feel His voice, a deep sound in the quiet dark room, in her bones.

“But for you, little one, an even deeper need. This.”

His flicking ceased, and he pinched her nipple firmly between that teasing forefinger, and his thumb. Arching with the sudden pain, she sucked in a breath.

“Yes,” he murmured, “You need this. As do I…”

His voice trailed off his hands gripped her tits, squeezing the soft flesh firmly until she whimpered. Quick as a striking snake, he slapped her face. A tear, single and sweet, pooled in her eye as she stared at him. Her cheek glowed from his hand; though she could not rub it with her wrists secured, she could feel the sudden heat.

His fingers pinched her tits, bruising the tender skin, drawing an assortment of noises from her. A quick slap on her left tit was followed by a pincering grasp of her nipple, and a shockingly sudden twist.

“OWIE!” she yelped, struggling. “It’s not the oven nob, there, Sir!”

“Perhaps not,” he agreed, “But I’m certain that it’s turning you on.”

She giggled, then moaned as he continued torturing his way down her body. He pinched her inner thigh, then caressed the apex of her pussy, but never quite touched where she yearned.

“Want something, slut?” He murmured.

“Yesss!” Her voice turned pleading. “I need you to touch me…I need to cum, Sir.”

“Ah. You want to cum, but that’s not the same as need. You need food. You need water-“

“I need it Sir. I really need to cum!”

“Are you sure?”

If she hadn’t been desperate, she might have taken note of the silky tone of his voice. But need overcame sense, and she nodded, and continued to beg for his touch. Still his fingers teased her, hurt her. Her cheek throbbed where he’d slapped her repeatedly, her nipples ached, but her cunt, aching with need, remained untouched.

How much time passed before he relented? She wondered how long he’d been tormenting her, how much more she could bear of his cruel fingers before she begged like a child for it to stop. If she did that, there’d be no orgasms for the month, she knew. She quivered when he spoke in her ear, his voice, carried in a caressingly warm breath.

“Okay, you may cum.”

His footfalls moved away, out of the light.


“Patience, little one,”

In a moment or two he returned, carrying his favorite toy.

“I thought you’d fuck me, Sir.” She tried not to sound petulant.

“You were mistaken. I will take my pleasure from you, little one. In my own time, in my own way, as always.”

“Yes Sir,” she replied, eyes downcast. She watched as he placed the bulbous head of the wand against her cunt. Felt it as he wedged it tightly between her pussy lips. Still, nothing happened, and he walked out of the light again.

She strained to hear, but he was quiet. The sound of duct tape being pulled off the roll was loud, and made her jump. She wanted to ask, but managed to shut her mouth. If she was too rude, too pushy, he’d stop this and she so desperately needed release.

Back at her side, he adjusted the wand and began taping it to her inner thigh.

“That’s going to hurt when I rip that off,” he mused. Then laughed quietly. She bit her lip, keeping silent.

“Good girl,” he said with humor, slapping her thigh. “This is what you wanted, to cum, am I correct?”

“Yes Sir!” she replied promptly, excitement in her voice.

“So be it!,” he said, and flicked the vibe to “on” mode.

The first orgasm came quickly, her body primed for release. She whimpered that she was done, and “Thank you Sir,” but still he played with her tits, ignoring the buzzing vibe.

“Oh! It’s so…too…oh…Sir!”

Her body arched with the stimulation, coming again. Again, the “Thank you Sir,” and again he ignored her, pinching and pulling her nipples, grabbing her tit meat and squeezing and kneading it.

“Oh GOD…plea….AAAaaaa…”

She came again.

And again. Tears, pleading, crying, begging him to stop, please.

“Cum for me, little one.”

Her body shook and quaked as the dastardly machine ripped another orgasm from her. He moved, then, placing his hand over her abdomen.

“Your muscles are shaking and quivering, and it’s only been seven orgasms!” He exclaimed. “It’s such and amazing feeling!”

By the eleventh she was muttering endless streams of “omygawd omygawdohmygawd…”. By fifteen she was drooling; sloppy, soaked with sweat and cum and tears.

As she quivered through the eighteenth wave, she barely felt the tape being pulled from her quaking thigh. She screamed as he jabbed into her sopping cunt with his stone-hard cock. He fucked her roughly, as she clenched around him, coming continuously. He held the vibe against her clit as he drove her up and over into incoherence. Strange words came from her mouth, along with grunts and moans. Her pussy gripped his shaft, her body trembling fiercely. With a final push, he buried himself in her belly as his cock injected streams of semen into her.

With a flick of his thumb, he turned off the vibe, and smiled, stroking his palm down the side of her face as she, still quivering, now slept. They’d both gotten exactly what they wanted.

He was pleased.

Hired! ~21~

It was the whirr of the oversized vibrator that roused her. How many times, she wondered in the small corner of her brain that still functioned. How many times had he made her cum. 

“Noo…no more…I can’t….” she moaned.

“Yesssss,” he growled in her ear.  “Your final test to see if that belt stays off,” he said, pressing the vibe hard against her. “I know you can cum again. One, two, however many I can wring from your greedy, sopping cunt.”

Her body arched as she spasmed again. Her ass fell to the mattress, wet and chilly beneath her hot cheeks, before rising again in the agony of orgasm. Her nipples drew tight, her clit pressed deeply against the steadily churning head of the monster.

“Aaaaaahhhh!” she shrieked, the shocks from her overstimulated bud painful, so painfully sensitive.

He moved, changing the angle of the vibe, slipping his fingers into her, finger fucking her roughly. Her head tossed as a steady babble came from her mouth, wordless pleas for mercy.

Gods, she was glorious in this state, he thought, the wild freedom of her pain writ over her body, the tremors of orgasm in her belly, her tits, her thighs. Her hair plastered wetly around her head, sticky bits of sperm and spit glistening on her cheeks, her lips, her breast. Though he’d had her several times already, he felt himself growing hard again, watching her writhing. He controlled this, controlled her for this moment. Her body was his to direct, an orchestra of flesh at his disposal. The thickening shaft between his legs demanded her pussy again.

His fingers, slippery with her juices, grabbed her legs, flipping her to her side. Her eyes were blind now, staring at him blankly, as her mouth opened and closed on the animal noises she squeaked at him. Keeping the vibe pressed against the top of her vee, he jogged his hips forward and sank into the hot, slippery cauldron of her cunt. For a moment he could only pause, his penis sucking up the incredible warmth, the slickness of her. He felt her quivering deep inside, surrounding his dick with an unceasing squeezing of her muscles. Hips moving almost of their own accord, he slid out, then back, increasing the pace, then the violence. The hum of the vibrator buzzed at him when he was buried deep in her, the sensation sending quivers of pleasure shock to his balls. He pummeled her pussy then, driving hard, driving deep, driving them quickly up the ramp from lust to raw animal need. His ass tightened with every thrust, his cock thickening as her whimpers came faster, her voice rougher. Each punch of his penis forced a gutteral grunt from her, making him even harder.

When the shockwave of another orgasm rocketed through her, her pussy walls clamped him like a vise of molten lava. Teeth gritted, face straining, he withdrew, slammed home, withdrew again, then drove deep into her boiling cunt, and exploded. With one final coherent thought, he switched off the vibe before falling across her, panting.


When they roused, they were stuck together.

“You are glued to me,” she moaned as he peeled his arm from her left tit.

“It’s not my fault that you have superglue for drool,” he replied, wincing as he rose up on his free arm, trying to find the other one.

“I think your pussy tried to kill me,” he muttered.

“It would have been a mutual killing,” she said with a slurred giggle. “Your cock tried to spear my lungs out of me.”

“Your cunt tried to suck me in by my dick, I felt it trying to Hoover me in there.”

“You did it, so you deserved every moment you were terrorized by my pussy.”

“You may have a point there,” he mused, grimacing as he pushed away, his thighs firmly melded to hers.

“OH! Ouch!” she yelped as he peeled away. “Dammit! You’re friggin’ exfoliating me! And that’s YOUR cum, by the way, I distinctly remember you spraying me with your load.”

“Load? What are you, a porno writer?” He laughed, but was blushing.

“Are you…blushing?” She giggled, pointing at him.

“Crap is a ‘load’…semen is something else.”

“What, praytell?”

“You’re pretty spunky after being fucked brainless, you know.”

“Cute,” she said, rolling her eyes, giving that teeny head-shake that let him know she didn’t think he was cute at all. Little brat!”

“I AM cute. And yes, I covered you in  my spunk.  I did NOT dump a load on you or you’d be covered in shit.”

He paused, his eyes widening. Oh, she could hardly wait for this, she mused, watching his face.


“Unless…what?” she asked, knowing she shouldn’t.

“Unless it’s your unspoken, ultra-dirty fetish.”

“What…oh gods…you…NO! Oh gross, no. I mean, not to judge people who are into shit..but heyll YES, I’m judging. Eww. Just…ewwwww. No. No Sir, I am definitely NOT into poop play. Ugh. Just…” She shuddered dramatically.

“Well,” he said, his tone reluctant, “If you’re sure?”

“I’m totally and completely sure. If you shit on me…”

“I’m not really into public shitting. I’d have to get a volunteer to shit in a bucket or something.”

“Now that, THAT? Is the epitome of “gross”, ” she said, using air quotes over the word gross.

“I can not believe you are air quoting after I just fucked you into tomorrow.”

“I had pent up orgasms. I feel MARVELOUS! In fact, if we weren’t stuck together on your …spunk…I’d be up and twirling with the bliss running in my veins. I am HIGH on sex right now.”

“I see..” He rose from her in one quick moving, making them both gasp.

“FUCK!” they said in unison.

“Jesusgod,” he moaned, cupping himself. “My balls were stuck to you and your vicious pussy!”

“HOLY FUCKBALLS!” she yelped, grabbing her cunt. “You took ten layers of skin off my pussy!”

And then she began to laugh, pointing at him and guffawing. With a frown of injured pride (and sore testicles), he tried valiantly to not let the grin quirk his lips.

He failed.

Slut on Call

Sifting through the mail in her front hall, she kicked off her shoes. They looked great but after a twelve-hour day her feet were throbbing. She tugged the ponytail holder out of her hair, shifted out of her jacket. She was just about to head to the kitchen to nuke some pizza when she found the envelope.

Definitely not hers.

If it had been junk, she would have simply tossed it, but this looked official. Important. With a longing glance towards the kitchen, her tummy grumbling impatiently, she slid back into her shoes, ignoring the protest of her toes,  and headed next door.

The neighborhood was quiet and dark. Friday night was date night for some, and a chance to sit and veg in front of the tv for others. The sounds of crickets seemed loud in the darkness, those last desperate calls for mates creating a constant, chirring hum. She climbed the steps, noting the tidy little front porch. A pot of mums sat on the bottom step, and a brass number plate sat over the doorbell. Both were new. Ringing the bell, she wondered who, exactly, would answer the door. She had never seen, nor met, the people who had moved in here this spring. She’d been off to California for work when the house had closed and the new owner took possession. It seemed they worked opposite schedules or something.

The door jerked open, starling her. She had a moment to take in a tall, dark-haired man with fierce eyes, before she was tugged inside.

“You’re late.”

A strip of duct tape slapped over her mouth, a blindfold tugged over her eyes. The letter fell soundlessly from her fingers to the floor, sliding into the kitchen and half under the fridge. Neither of them noticed. He almost ripped her shirt as he tore it away from her body, then used it to tie her wrists behind her back. Despite struggling, he overpowered her quickly. A hand in her hair pushed her, stumbling blindly, through the house, until she fell face-first onto a bed. Panic set fire to her, as she rolled, kicking out. She did not want to be raped, she only wanted to deliver a fucking letter. Strong arms pulled her up the bed, grabbed and secured each flailing foot. She growled and screamed behind the gag, as he rolled her to the side, sliding the shirt off of her. She punched out when her hands were free. The weight of a man’s body straddled her, high up on her torso, just below her breasts, as she tried to claw and scratch at him. He laughed.

“Feisty. I do like the feisty ones. Gotta say, slut, you’re the best so far.”

Quickly, effortlessly, he subdued each hand, until she was spread-eagled, tied to his bed. She bucked, trying to get him off of her so that she could breathe. Panic sent black spots to circle around her blindfolded eyes as she fought for breath.

“Yes, yes, impatient wench, I’ll play with your pretty titties…”

Matching words to actions, his hands tugged her bra upwards, freeing her breasts. He cupped and fondled them, sometimes gentle, sometimes firmly, until he pinched her nipples and lifted each fat breast by them. She squirmed, squealing.

“You have lovely nipples. Red as raspberries and fat. Just the way I like.”

He slid down her body, laying atop her, his mouth, sucking one breast deeply into his mouth.   Jesus…his mouth did powerful things to her. Her belly tightened, and she arched involuntarily, seeking more. His teeth bit into her tender skin, making her cry out. The gag tugged on her lips as she tossed her head. She wanted…

NO! No!

She breathed, trying to ignore his mouth on her tit. She’d always been sensitive there. Boyfriends were always fascinated that she could have an orgasm from having her nipples sucked. One had called them her “Orgasm knobs”, laughing as he’d turned them while fucking her, driving her over the edge so many times that she’d eventually passed out on him.

She wasn’t going to cum.

She wasn’t.


Her back arched as the first spasm rippled through her pussy.

“You horny little thing. NO! No cumming, don’t you fucking *dare* disobey me.”

His words were like cold water. With a hard slap, he pushed off of her, then tugged her skirt up around her waist. Pulling her panties to the side, his finger probed her cunt.

“You little whore. Soaked. Did you cum?”

She shook her head no. She was close. Very very close. His finger rubbed her clit, engorged and standing at attention. The little traitor.

“Good. You want to cum, don’t you?”

She shook her head, no.

No. She didn’t.

The slap on her pussy took her by surprise. She arched, shrieked.


He slapped again, twice more. Her clit throbbed, her pussy ached for release. This was fucking weird. He slapped her and she wanted to cum even more than before. She needed to get out of here. Now. She lay still, her mind racing. She pictured the freedom of her kitchen, the pizza in the freezer. A single tear traced from her eye to her ear. The edge of the gag pulled away, then slowly eased off her mouth.


“You don’t have permission to talk. Or cum. Got it, slut?”

“I’m NOT a slut!”

“That’s what all the sluts say.”

“I’m your neighbor…really. I was bringing you mail that came to my house by accident…”

“I never saw any mail.”

“I had it. In my hand….I’m not sure where it went when you grabbed me like …like..”

Her voice fell to a whisper. She heard footsteps cross the floor, leaving the room. It wasn’t long before he was back. The bed creaked as he lay across it beside her.

“How about that. And yet. So wet, little neighbor girl. So close to cumming. Are you sure you’re not part of Sam’s Sluts-to-Go? No? Okay, then, how about a bargain.”

There was a click, a whirrr and something, something wonderful, pressed against her pussy.

“If you don’t cum, if you can hold off for 5 minutes, then I’ll untie you and send you on your way, with my apologies. But if you do cum, if you act just like the horny slut I thought you were, and cream all over my bed? Then you stay here with me. All weekend. Playmates.”

He paused, letting that sink in, all the while playing the delightful buzzing thing down her pussylips, and back up over her clit.


“Of course not, a fine lady like yourself would never cum in a strangers bed after having her tits sucked and her pussy massaged.”


“Five minutes, starting now.”

Time seemed to thread past her in ribbons and waves. Her total attention was on her cunt. She wanted to get out of here. Cumming was not an option. She wanted home, and her pizza for dinner. She wanted her feet up and her book. She…the thing pressed hard against her clit and she arched, stimulated beyond belief.


She cried out, feeling the clenching of her pussy, her body arching and straining against the bonds that held her open. His chuckle bordered on cruel.

“Greedy girl, your pussy is very wet. I think she wants something…”

His finger caressed her slit while the churning bulb stirred her clit unceasingly.

“ooooooooOOOOO” she moaned as his finger, two, three slid inside her wet heat, curling up and stroking the most sensitive places inside her cunt.

“For a girl who doesn’t want to cum, you’re doing a very poor job resisting.”

His voice was a husky sound against her ear, the warm brush of his breath a near-caress. His lips found her nipple and sucked hard. She came in a torrent, her body arched into a perfect bow, releasing a flood. The gates were open, lust pouring through her body, flowing out in a torrent of sex juice. She had cum, harder than ever before in her life.

And now she was his.

Someone to Watch Over Her

She thought she was “safe” he thought with a mental sneer. Up there on her umpty umpth floor, alone in the clouds. He’d watched her for months, amazed that she truly thought no one could see her as she touched, as she fucked herself, and as she was fucked by others.

He’d watched her watch porn.

Not just any porn, but the dark and dirty kind. The bondage and beating kind. The cum in her mouth and her ass and her tits kind.

In his bedroom was a telescope, hooked to a monitor, so that he could lay in his bed and watch her touching herself. He’d seen a few guys come through, never the same one twice. He’d watched as she’d been trussed open, her pussy spanked then fucked by one masked marauder, watched when the tall bald guy had come by and whipped her until juice drizzled down her thighs, watched as the black guy had fed his cock into her mouth, and later, between her ass cheeks as she had knelt, doggy style, on her big bed. It seemed she’d do just about anything, and with just about anyone.

Thankful that his gig was security, he began digging for information about her. He got her name, address,  phone number, the place where she worked, and the dungeon she frequented.  He knew that she lived alone now, but that she’d been married and divorced, no kids. She made a lot of money advising others how to handle their greenbacks, and her  taste in movies ranged from Up to Die Hard.

He’d been to one who had called the police the night a scene went bad, and had made sure the guy was paid back in kind, a task he attended to personally. Soon, very soon now, he’d meet her. With a tight smile, he continued to watch as she ran her vibe up and down her tight pussy, back arching as she pleasured herself. He stroked his cock as he watched, timing his orgam to spurt when she did.


Stacy Jo Keenan stepped out of her condo building, looking at her iphone and frowning in annoyance, when she walked-full on- into someone. She would have fallen flat on her ass, if strong arms hadn’t grabbed her, and held her upright.

“Careful,” a voice spoke far above her, despite her 5-inch stiletto’s.  Her head tilted back and back.

“You be careful. You walked into me. And dammit!” She teetered, realizing her left heel had broken. “Now I’m going to be late,” she huffed, fuming.

“I was just walking down the street when a sassy-assed girl slammed into me. Good thing I have good balance or I would have fallen and hurt my dainty ass.”

She narrowed her eyes, glaring up at him.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Whyever would I do such a thing? You’re such a sweet little thing.”

“You are making fun of me. . . and it’s not my fault you’re a frikking giant.”

She muttered under her breath “and a clumsy oaf”.

“Did you just call me an … oaf?” His voice, amazed, caught her attention, as did the little shake he gave her.

“I did. Sorry.”

“Now you’re being terse, and it was all your fault, too. Calling me such an archaic name, and hurting my feelings. I could sit right here and cry.” He whined.

She bit her lip. She was not going to laugh. She wasn’t.

The giggle escaped. Clapping a hand over her mouth her blue eyes clashed with his tawny ones.

“Stop. You’re being silly.” She managed, swallowing her smile.

“I can’t help being silly. I’m an oaf!”

Now she was embarrassed.  And giggled again. “I’m sorry I called you an oaf. Really.” Her phone chimed in her hand, but he took it, turned it off.

“Let me help you upstairs so you don’t tip over and knock down any other oafs.” Taking her arm he turned her back towards her door before she could protest. They passed the doorman, who smiled at their exchange once they were inside the thick glass doors.

They were in the elevator before she even thought about what was happening.

“Wait…you can’t come to my apartment…I…”

“I’m not the first guy you’ve had up there, I imagine.” His tone was dry.

She wasn’t sure how to answer that one, really. Her cheeks turned rosy and her brows tugged into a frown.

“I promise to be a good oaf.”

She rolled her eyes. He was like an oversized puppy…but puppies could bite. The doors slid smoothly open and he helped her towards her door. She opened the three locks quickly, then kicked off both her shoes. As she bent to retrieve them, his hands landed on her hips, tugging her back against his legs.

“HEY!” She yelped.

“Little girl, you need a keeper. What the fuck were you thinking, letting a strange man come into your apartment with you? How can you be that complaisant in this city…anywhere? I could kill you. I could rape you. I could tie you up and feed you corn flakes. You have no idea.”

He shook his head, spinning her around to face him. His large hands moved to her shoulders, giving her another shake.

“This was your stupidest idea yet.”

“I…I beg your pardon?” Her tone was frosty, but he heard the thick sound of fear behind the words.

“You’re right about that-you will beg.”

Fucking Asshole

some dragon for today…..tastes good with…your favorite topping…~nilla~, laughing evilly…..

The ropes bit into her wrists and ankles. She could always count on Andy to secure her well, but this was fucking ridiculous. As she’d stepped from the kitchen to the bedroom, He’d grabbed her from behind, scaring the shit out of her, blindfolded her with that fucking hood, and thrown her on the bed. Things got a bit hazy then, as she struggled with Him, but also for breath.

It was hard to feel excited and turned on over the annoyance factor. She had a shit day, her boss was a fucking asshole. She’d said that about him in the break room, ranting about what a jerk-off he was. Nitpicking her work to death, it was like working for a cranky 2-year-old sometimes. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like that. All she wanted now was a glass of wine, to kick off her heels and peel down her hose and unwind a bit. Yet, here she was, tied down and unable to vent to her lover about her crapper of a day.  She couldn’t complain because he’d used the ball gag over the fucking hood. Mostly, she had to concentrate on breathing. She tugged her wrist.

Not going to budge.

She took another breath, slowly through the cloth over her face. Something tickled the bottom of her foot. He’d taken off her shoes? She hadn’t realized that. She tried to kick it away. Fruitless. She hated being tickled.

She’d told him that innumerable times. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered. She wasn’t feeling submissive, she was feeling pissed.

She tried to say “leave me the fuck alone, you prick” but all that came out was a muffled “woh woh a-woh”. There was no verbal answer but she felt his presence. She really hated when he did that. Totally ignored her until she wanted to shriek.

Oh, she was in no mood for this today. She tossed her head, and tugged her arms and legs furiously for thirty seconds, a minute. Nothing. He’d tied her securely. She growled, screeched, scrubbed her head around.


She lay, unable to pant, out of breath. She trembled. She shook with a rage that rose in her belly. There was a press between her splayed thighs. She shook her head, no. She was angry, annoyed, frustrated. How dared he do this to her. The fucking bastard!


He watched her struggle on the bed, arms crossed. Oh, she was truly pissed.

This was going to be some fun.


She had no idea how long she fought before exhaustion, and futility made her relax.  She felt the hood sticking to her cheeks where tears had dampened them.

There was the sound of snipping from across the room. He wouldn’t. But now she wasn’t at all sure that he wouldn’t. The floorboard creaked under his weight as he crossed the room towards her. She felt the faint vibration of the scissors as he snipped the front of her blouse. It cut through the thin fabric like a hot knife passed through butter.  There was the cold touch of the back of the blade against her belly, then it was gone, and her shirt was peeled away. A warm finger slid under her bra, between her tits, and in seconds, the snick of the scissors and the sudden release as her bra was severed, and the weight of her tits popped sideways.  The cooler air of the room teased her nipples hard, as he tugged her skirt up around her waist.

He had yet to speak a single word, and she was surprised that arousal was fluttering its way through her annoyance. He’d never treated her this way before.

It was strangely erotic. A bit of fear, a lot of anger, and total helplessness was mixing her up. She was mad. She was turned on. She was annoyed. She was wet.

The fucking scissors were employed to cut away her hose and panties at the crotch.  There was the touch of fingers as he grabbed the sides of the slit he’d cut, and then the tug and sound of ripping as he opened a larger portal.

In moments, she felt the press of a cock against her folds, and the sudden jolt as he slid inside her.

This was not her boyfriend’s cock.

She inhaled sharply as the long fat shaft filled her. It was…uncomfortably large. She felt stretched, and very full. She tossed her head, and tried to jolt him off of her, but he only chuckled and pressed his torso harder against the opening of her hole, thrusting another inch or two into her. She grunted at the size of him filling her. Over-filling her. She winced under the hood, trying to will her body to relax. She wondered who the fuck this was.

Was this one of Andy’s games?

They’d “double-teamed” her before, he and his best friend. But this wasn’t Seth’s cock either. Thought fled as he pulled out, then battered deeply inside her warm belly. She grunted around the gag. Fingers found her tits, kneading them like bread dough.  There was a pinch on her left nipple, then the hot wetness of a mouth. The sucking of his mouth and the pistoning of his hips sent waves of sensation through her.

She felt the orgasm building, building. Fingers slid down her body, squeezing between their joined bodies, to rub at her clit. She came apart, body arching, fingers curling into fists as the climax roared through her. The mouth on her tit sucked hard, as his teeth worked around her flesh, nipping and biting. The finger continued to rub her clit furiously, painfully. She tried to breathe, to gasp, to say noooooo, it was ohtoo sensitive…but another orgasm ripped through her.

And then his hands were on her hips as he pounded into her, withdrew and pounded again. The third orgasm drained her, made her see stars.

He pulled out with a wet sucking sound.

Fingers spread her wetness down, and around her asshole. One finger, then another circled and played around that tight hole. She squeezed her eyes shut, and whimpered.

Noooo…the thought of that giant cock filling her ass had her struggling again, but the fingers continued to move in and out of her rectum, stretching her, loosening her. Three fingers, then four and her body began pressing down, urging them deeper. His free hand circled her clit, never quite rubbing that spot, until he jabbed those four fingers deeply into her asshole, making her groan around the gag.

Her clit was attacked, rubbed roughly.

The orgasm made her faint, but she roused quickly as the head of his swollen rod pressed inside the tightest of her holes.  He pressed into her, relentless. She growled, but the gag muffled it. He shoved his dick into her helpless ass, and slid home. Whimpers and tears came, but her clit throbbed. His fingers played with her clit, her nipples. He slapped her pussy, then withdrew, and thrust inside. She felt her body stretch and relax, and felt another orgasm building inside her.


But the hard cock in her ass pressed on, building speed, becoming rougher, greedier as it dug deeply into her tight hole. Her head jolted as her body was taken, used.

He was rough at the end, brutally fucking into her bum. He was close, almost there. His fingers bit into her tits, leaving bruises, pinching moans from her as he grabbed her nipples, tugging her tits together, pressing his face into them and biting the tender flesh. His rough crotch hairs rubbed along her pussy, and she came, a flooding orgasm like she’d never experienced before.


He lay on top of her, and reached around to unfasten her gag, and tug the hood off her face. She was a mess, snot and tears and drool over her face. Her mascara had run, black rubs along her cheeks. Her eyes, red and puffy, stared up at her boss.

“Now you know the truth; I am  a fucking asshole. Or rather, I was fucking your asshole. And…you certainly enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

She, for once, had nothing to say.


His cell phone rang as he pulled into the garage at his condo.  He smiled when he saw who was calling.

“Hey Andy. Yes. Oh, hell yes. She was a fucking animal. Yes. We’ll have to do it again sometime. Soon.”



His tongue glides along my arm. Starting at my wrist, the pointed tip trails along the ridges where the rope holds me tight. It tickles. I want to giggle, but the tape over my lips keeps me silent. It seems inappropriate to laugh when your kidnapper is going to fuck you. But what can you do when his tongue is trailing up your arm, swirling around your armpit?

I writhe, wriggle, and make high-pitched noises. I want him to stop. This isn’t funny. I’m naked, tied, spread open. The tongue is wet. Warm. Sometimes I can feel his breath against my skin. That’s warm too. I can’t see him, to tell you about him. To warn you.

Don’t answer that ad on Alt-life. The one that looks so enticing. So perfect. Don’t meet at the old cafe on Morrissey Street. He won’t be there. Or…you’ll think he won’t be there. Thinking you’ve been stood up, you’ll turn to look down the street, and he’ll pull the bag over your head. He’ll warn you not to struggle, because of the knife. It feels like a knife.  He’ll reach his hand under the bag, and slap a wad of duct tape over your lips.

You’ll be helpless to scream. And you came here, just to meet a dominant. To be his fucktoy. But you’ll think, like I did? That he’ll want to talk to you. That he’ll want to get to know you. What makes you tick. What turns you on. How you want to serve.

He doesn’t care about that. He only wants to take. To use. You could be me, here. Laying here, being licked.

His mouth moves in a kissing motion up over the curve of my tit. The tongue laps around the areola,  then the sharp caress of teeth over my nipple. This could be you, you know. He sucks the nipple into his mouth, through narrowed teeth. It scrapes. It hurts. It…turns me on.

I shake my head no, but I can’t tell if he sees….or if he’s ignoring me. He will take his time tasting me. I remember that. He told me, while he cut my clothing off. He would taste me, suck me, feast on me. He would bite and taste of my blood, lick and taste of my sweat, suckle and taste of my skin, and lap…and make me cum.

He won’t. Make me cum, I mean. I’m strong. I can outlast that. I’ve never cum from oral anyway. He won’t….oh. OH…



my clit …like my nipple

throughhisteeth, pushing it out wiht his tongue…in-outOHGODS-inoutin…

My back arches, offering him my pussy, lips swelling and peeling open, wantonly begging for more as I cum hard against his mouth.

I feel the tongue, going back to work, lapping lazily around my lower lips….


Head tossing. Moaning. Struggles to get away.

All fruitless endeavors.


I was stuck, His elbow on my hair, His arm holding me, my arms cuffed and tied above my head as I lay, pinned open. My tits were pinched, twisted, slapped, squished, and bitten.

His hand falls with steady, measured blows.




My breath comes out in short gasping breaths. H=u-r=t=s….moan..moan..oho ohhhhh…

Can’t close my legs to shut Him away. He hits a bit harder…




Now I moan in earnest. It goes from subtle sexual pain, to pure pain. I feel the lips of my pussy swelling even more.

It’s the end of playtime.

Time for “nilla quickies” as Master calls them. When I am no longer capable of rational speech. When I am moaning and whimpering and “speaking in unknown languages” which are “senseless, but cute,” as He says it.

In my head I’m saying I can’t.

I can’t.

I simply cannot cum anymore.

The bed is soaked with my juices. I’ve had most of a sports drink, several glasses of water…but I’m done.

Can’t. Cum. Anymore.

When my pussy is one steady throbbing mass of flesh. Feels swollen like…like a grapefruit is between my thighs.  Yet as His fingers wander down through my folds…

“You’re WET! You slut!” and He’ll chuckle that evil chuckle of His, and start to caress my tender clit.

You know, the one He’s just finished pummeling with pussy smacks?

Yeah, that one.

I can’t move, can’t get away…just have to take it. I say nooooooo….and He laughs….and slips His fingers inside me.

And I rise into each stroke..He rubs my spots…all the spots…then grabs the top of my pussy, squeezing the tender flesh, my lips, my clit, the tender sexual spot just inside…


I cum.

And lay, tears leaking from my eyes, as my pussy, that traitor, twitches and clenches on His fingers…and wets Him.

“See, I knew it.”

And then He’ll start stroking again. Sometimes even as I’m cumming He’ll be stroking, and fucking. He might pinch my clit and a nipple simultaneously. Or bite and suck that nipple so painfully, as He jabs His fingers into me, taking me rough and brutally, the way I like it.

I cum hard.

Then at the end. My end.

There is nothing.

Pussy is dry.

“Ssshhhh….” He whispers. “I know there’s another in here. It’s hiding. But it’s in there….”


“cum.” He says, His voice implacable.

It’s the only clear thing I remember. It is a lifeboat in a sea of sensation.


I obey, and sink into darkness.



Thank you Donna! (aisha, that’s all the warning you get! LOL!) oh, and p.s…..this is verrah long…no serializing this one! ~n~

She’d been fascinated by the sea her entire life. Perhaps it was all the treks to Cape Cod with her mom and aunts and gram as a child. Summers were lazy days spent in the hot sun and cool surf. There were quiet times, and excitement….nothing got the summer visitors going more than shark sightings, unless it was when a pod of whales cruised off the southernmost tip of  Provincetown.  From the Pilgrim Tower you could see Massachusetts bay to the west, and the deep green-blue of the open Atlantic to the East, skirting the white, white sands curling south, until it turned westward back towards the bulk of the Massachusetts coastline.

She had many memories of those foggy morning walks with the surf whispering at her feet, catching sea stars and tossing them back into the water, or surprising a family of sandpipers, running on their funny legs at the white frothy edge where water met sand.  She remembered sand between her toes, as well as in a lot of other less desirable places, and the beating of the sun on her upturned nose, turning the part in her blonde hair pink.

When she graduated High School, she spent her last summer on the Cape with her womenfolk, then headed off to college to study marine biology. Trekking around the world at Spring or Winter break, she spent time in tropical islands, and one memorable school-sponsored trek to Madagascar.

Now she swam at in the deep blue waters above the Great Barrier reef. Marine life abounded here, and she’d had several thrilling adventures already. There was a purported count of some 1,500 different fish,   as well as sea-snakes, mollusks, and three varieties of sea turtles.  Thus far her favorite sightings included the white-sided dolphins that frolicked in these waters.

It stunned her.

The reef, immense and diverse, was teeming with life. Every dive held its own special fascination. Today, Marc was taking her out, just her and just him. It was, to her mind, almost a date. No scheduled classes, no itinerary.  No diving today, the idea was that they would just snorkel along the surface, and merely observe the goings on in the reef below, without actually becoming part of it.

She knew Marc was hoping to see the giant squid that was rumored to exist here at the outermost edges of the great reef.  There were no other boats out this early in the day, just them, and the burgeoning disk of the sun rising through clouds.

“Red sky in morning, sailor take warning,” she chanted to herself. They’d have to keep an eye to the sky. The small boat sat calmly in the sea as dawn broke around them.

“Ready?” At her nod, Marc looked her up and down. Her bikini showed her lovely breasts to perfection, full, ripe and round. The briefs were, in point of fact, very brief. He wasn’t sure why, he’d certainly swum with other nubile college girls over his career, but this one? Made him nervous as hell.

They slipped into the water, their swimfins barely making a splash as they kicked away from their boat. The sea was warm, nearly hot, a caress across their skin. Summer in the southern hemisphere meant heated seas, mating flush in all the creatures, the burgeoning of life,  even as the northern hemisphere shivered in the chill of a January snowstorm. Together they moved through the water, peering into the still-dark depths. Occasionally her belly was tickled by an inquisitive fish, or she would catch the dark shape of something swimming under her. The sky was still pink and plum and russet with dawn, keeping the ocean’s depths a mysterious secret.

Once again, there was that caress along her belly. She shivered, smiled over at Marc.

“Fish are ticklin”

“The price you pay for that micro-kini you’re wearing! You could go back to the boat and put on a ‘skin…?” He let that hang there a moment, trying to not let her see the “gods don’t let her want to go back and cover up” in his eyes.  She filled out that ‘kini…the woman was stacked. The little triangle of fabric did little to cover sumptuous tits. The equally small bottom triangle gave a tantalizing peek at plump lower lips. She was not a skinny minnie; he loved that she had the guts to wear a bikini with a softly rounded tummy…it showed that she didn’t give a fuck what society thought, that she was comfortable with who she was. Maybe it was that, that comfort with herself that intrigued him so.

What he wouldn’t give to be one of those fishes slicking down that body!

She shook her head no, then flicked her fin at him as she pushed ahead. He tried not to stare at the round full globes of her ass, the muscles in her strong legs pulling his attention up, around, and towards that dark triangle that beckoned him like…like no other had in a long while.

Every time he was around her he felt a bit awkward, a bit nervous, and a lot horny. It was unnerving that a student would make him feel like the junior geek here. He knew she was not trying to entice him, that she was a sexy woman who had never “put the moves on” any of her teachers. She got ahead by her smarts, her drive, and her love of her subject.

“Ooohhh,!” she giggled, turning her head to look back at him. And caught him staring right at her ass. Marc flushed. She stopped swimming, treading water.

“Like what you saw, Prof? Geeze.” She blushed. Her heart ticked up a notch. He saw her. It gave her a tickle between her legs, a soft, wet throb.  She’d never, ever made a move on a teacher, yet she saw Marc differently.

“Actually, I did.” They stared at each other, floating in the warm, sapphire sea. She tread  water, holding her place, as  they looked at one another. Each wondered if they should reach out, and touch.  She felt the tickle on her thigh, and wriggled. His eyes widened. She wondered if it was from the sight of her tits bobbling in the water. There was that tickle again. She splashed at the water, trying to startle the fish. Marc uttered a short “what the fuck?” as he caught the brunt.

“I’m sorry! Not you! These damn fish are …” abruptly her voice cut off, and she gave a short yelp. Something was coiled around her ankle. They were too high to be caught in Sargassum weed, so what the fuck was on her? She kicked her foot, and felt something on her other leg.

“Marc!” she yelped, kicking. He was turned away from her, and she yelped again. “MARC!”

He turned his head, glassy-eyed. “Something…” he grunted, a look of startled surprise on his face.

“Marc…” she moaned then, feeling a soft bite on her inner thigh, cutting off her plea.  She felt a probing at her bikini bottom.  She whimpered aloud as something…something slick and cool rubbed along her vulva, down along her lower lips. There were…suckers there, snagging on her flesh, already aroused from the flirting with Marc.  She felt a sting where the bite was, and then a feeling of floating, and an incredible feeling of arousal. Her clit jolted to attention, her nipples engorged, and she felt a wet hot slickness leak from her cunthole. Her hips made little undulations in the water as her body invited the invader in.

The fat thing that filled her was a cock. A very different kind of cock. It was tapered, and she felt that tapered tip twisting and twining inside of her. Impossibly, it had found her ‘spot’, and rubbed it relentlessly. Her orgasm made her arch back in the water, and she sank up to her chin as she came harder than ever before. She kicked feebly with her legs, but found herself floating when she stopped.  More probing along her slit became pressure against her asshole. She shook her head, her hair floating like a golden halo in the water behind her.

“No no no noooooo,” she muttered, trying to push it away. She felt things twining around her wrists, her arms, pulling her back. Legs…tentacle legs, wrapped around her torso, her throat. Tips of legs rose up in the air then rubbed against her tits. She bucked, but was held too tightly. There was a sudden surging thrust into her ass and pussy, and she screamed. Her asshole throbbed, even as her cunt bucked into another orgasm. The wriggling invader in her ass pressed upward, twirling up into her gut. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, torn between the pleasure in her pussy, and the pain in her asshole. She was stretched, deeply, fully with the thickness inside of her. Her ass throbbed, setting off another shockwave of sensation, another ripple of her belly as she climaxed. As she gasped for breath, one questing tentacle found her nose, pressing up and inside.

“NOOO,” she moaned, tossing her head in a futile attempt to dislodge it. A second slender tip found her other nostril, and slid inside. She felt the tickle at the back of her throat. She coughed, gagging as one tendril pressed deeper, probing. Her head was tugged backwards by the feelers in her nose, and she arched in the water, out of control. The cock working in her belly pressed hard against her cervix and she moaned. Pain and pleasure commingled, and she felt a hot wet thickness building inside of her. It, whatever it was, was coming inside of her. She felt the dripping of fluid down the back of her throat, and the tightening around her tits as tentacles thrashed in the air before wrapping her more tightly in their grasp.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Marc, also floating, one thick tentacled arm filling his mouth.

“Marc,” she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. The bobbling waves should have spread them away from each other, yet they hung here in the waters not far from their boat.

The thing in her ass began to thrust. A second cock? How many of these creatures were on her? There was a slither against her hip. It pulled up out of the sea, and she stared in horror,  looking into the eyes of the slimy creature as it slid up her belly. This one too, had a protuberant cock. It’s tentacles grasped her tits, suctioning onto her nipples and sticking against her as deeply as possible. She moaned. She saw its maw, open wide, tasting and exploring her belly, working towards her captive tits.  It found the swollen orb of her, settled around her protuberant flesh. There was a shocking and intense sucking at her nipple, then a bite. Heat, lust, rampant need exploded in her.

Primed, she spasmed. The water around her clouded with her cum, and theirs. She was writhing now, desperate for sex. The fucking in her pussy and ass redoubled, perhaps one cock, perhaps more, fighting to press into her belly and deposit its milky spoor. She was bloated, full, as the cock before her began to thrash towards her mouth.


Marc could not believe what he saw as Jules bobbled in the water, could not believe what he felt as he too was entrapped by a group of groping tentacles.  What the fuck? he wondered, attempting to push them away. His hands were quickly wrapped together in one strong coil; despite the cool slippery mass, they were incredibly tough. He felt the first tickle along his thigh, then his calf. The bite was less annoying than an mosquitoes, but in seconds his semi-soft cock went fully rigid. Painfully rigid. Tenting out the front of his swimshorts, he felt the first flicker of panic as a tentacle…was it only one?… slid up inside the left leg of his shorts.

The grip around his balls was painfully tight. He moaned, and a tentacle slipped between his lips and down his throat. He could breathe, barely, and panic sent his heart racing. He felt the lapping of water around his cock.

Where the hell had his pants gone?

He forgot about them as something cool, tight, viscous settled around his shaft.  It felt like fingers massaging along his length. He was hard, harder than he’d ever been, and there was a feeling of sucking along the crown, the hole, the ridge of his head. His hips jolted in the water, fucking. He would have moaned but for the tentacle silencing him.

He swallowed, a thick ooze was leaking from the tentacle and dripping down his throat. He tried to scream as another probed his asshole, then pressed insistently upwards. His rectum was stretched, painfully. His eyes closed as his shitpipe was violated, the deep questing probe thrusting, fucking his ass, even as his own cock was getting worked over. The clenching around his balls was making them feel like his nutsac was going to explode; his cock was painfully rigid, and sucked so hard it, too, was painful.

Yet even as he wondered if a guy could die from having his nuts crushed by a squid, they were released. He felt the upsurge of his own orgasm ricochet up his cock, and explode from inside his fuck-tube, into places unknown.  The world went black for a minute, but he roused as  another moved onto him, biting him to erection, and fucking him senseless once more.


“I think she’s coming around.”

There was general laughter at that remark.

“Cumming being the operative word, ey mate?”

Jules opened her eyes. She was alive? She felt heavy, thick-bodied. She was naked, but couldn’t make herself care. Several guys were standing around her; one crouched down and held out his hand.

“How many fingers, darlin’?”

“Two.” her voice croaked. “Marc?”

“Oh, your mate? He’s fine now, below decks having some food. C;mon up with you now, darlin’, let’s get you into something more proper then, aye? Then we’ll give you a snack and set you two back to rest, ay?”

She swallowed, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. There was a coursing of wetness as she rose, leaking from between her legs. One of the men held a bowl there, catching the liquid.

“They liked you, girl,” growled one, observing the amount of liquid in the bowl. It had a faint golden color to it.

She felt the blush rise from her toes. She would have moved forward, but a hand pressed hard against her belly, as if to drain her.

“Just a little more, darlin’.”

A daring pair of lips lapped up her inner thigh.

“Andrew!” admonished their leader, as he held her there. “It’s a powerful aphrodisiac, darlin’. The Japanese pay top dollar for any squid semen we can collect.”

He led her down to the galley, where a pale-faced Marc sat, eating. A sailor sat on each side of him.

“Now that you’re both here, I’ll explain what happened to you, and tell you where we go from here.”

“The squid that attacked you, the Aussie Dumping Squid it’s called, are notorious sex-fiends.  They mate for hours at a time, and have lately begun to prey on humans who venture into the water at dawn, or dusk. Their mating season is just for a few more weeks, and it appears that they very much enjoyed you two. We’ve tried collecting the cum by grabbing the squid, but it won’t release. And the two others we found in your situation were barely touched. It appears they like you.”

Marc and Jules looked horrified. She’d been fucked by squids? Plural?

“So we’ll feed you up to keep your calories and fluids up, and tonight at dusk we’ll drop you both in again. Let them fuck you silly, reel you in, drain your holes, and let you sleep.”

“It’s only a few more weeks, mates. You’ll have the fucking time of your lives, and vacation memories of Australia to last a lifetime!”


Somewhen in the vast reaches of our time together, after multiple forced orgasms, after fucking, and biting, and beating…

He flips me over on my back. I grunt, I remember, because my shoulders were so sore from the beating, and the biting. My ass was throbbing dully, and my pussy, too, but to different beats. It was a discordant rhythm that my body was playing, all a blend of disharmony that somehow set up awesome harmonics within me.

He healed me, by beating me.

By fucking me.

By using me hard, and heavy.

Then He tugs me, on my back, across the bed, heedless of my small moanings. Tugged like I was a rag-doll…and you all know I’m no lightweight. My head flops off the bed; I feel the heat of his thighs on either side of me, the roughness of hairy legs. The push of His cock on my face, my lips.

He reaches down and takes my cuffed hands, and hooks them together behind His back.  Reaching down, He slapped my inner thigh until my legs opened, aiding in my balance.

He is wordless.

I am blindfolded.

He makes me figure out what He wants, by slapping my pussy. I lick His balls, laving them, lapping at them, making Him moan. If I please Him, He stops slapping my pussy, and starts playing with my tortured clit. It is so sensitized by now, that even a gentle rubbing makes me cum.

I moan against His ballsack, mumbling “no…no…no…”

Cumming is sweet torture…and becomes simply torture.

He moves His hips, and immobilized as I am, I can do nothing to stop Him. Nothing to stop His cock entering my mouth (not that I don’t want it. I do, I do!)

But at the same time, His fingers slip inside me and begin fingerfucking me roughly. I squirt nearly instantly…I feel the wet explosion, as I mumble NO around a mouthful of  cock, trying to get my mouth clear of it so that I can protest. I do, yet, with the position He has put me into, when I open my mouth to say anything there are His balls. I’m effectively gagged between His legs, His cock, His balls, as He stands there, getting sucked off, and torturing my pussy.

I come again.

And again.

And again.

And, yes, again.

The number of orgasms is uncountable. All this in silence. He says nothing to me, just plays with me. Pulling my nipples, slapping my tits, pinching my belly. Fucking my pussy.

Fucking my pussy.

Fucking my pussy.

He doesn’t cum in my mouth. He reaches up, and I feel His hands unclasping my wrists, then He steps back, tugs me up upon the bed.

Does He cuddle with me? I think so.

Seriously? I don’t remember that part yet. It will come back to me, or He’ll tell me about it.

And by the way?

I loved every fucking minute of it! The loss of breath from time to time, the banging of my head with His legs, the taste of Him, the objectification of Him plucking away at my body, as He did whatever the fuck He wanted to…all of it was a HUGE turn on.

oh. Did I forget to mention the anal beads?

Next time, my pervies, next time.