The roar of her vacuum was surpassed by the song pouring into her earbuds. Singing along to her favorite oldies, she swayed and hip-bumped her way around the classroom. Friday night, and the kids must have had some extra fun today, as there was glitter everywhere. It felt like she’d never get all the sparkles out of the carpet; she knew her boss didn’t expect perfection, but she did. At long last the bulk of the rug was clean if not totally sparkle-free. Unplugging the machine, she wound the cord, still singing to the music pulsing in her ears. The long corridor leading back to the maintenance closet was semi-dark. She had turned off every other light on her way in; she didn’t mind working in the half-light. She did popped the lights on to see while she worked in an area, then popped them off again when done. The principal like that she was saving energy.

Next on her agenda was washing the floors. Three bathrooms and a classroom needed a good scrub, then she would be done for the night.

She didn’t need the light on in here,  in what she privately thought of as her ‘office’.  She knew exactly where every one of her tools went. Stepping into the room, she shut the door. Right next to the wall studs, she slotted the machine into its proper place, then turned to head to the closet across the hall, where her wash bucket was.

The arms came around her before she could open the door, one hand covering her mouth. Fingers tugged a bud out of her ear.

“Sssshhh. It’ll be fast. Hard, deep, rough…but fast.” The voice was guttural, rough.

In one ear blasted the tune where someone was rocking the night away, in the other, the sibilant whisper that sent whimpers through her nose.

“Open your mouth.”

She shook her head, but he held her nose until she gasped for breath. Something was stuffed into her mouth, wedged deep so she couldn’t spit it out.

“My undies make a nice gag. I had beans for lunch so I farted in them a lot, and there might be a skid or two there, but you know how it is. Gags are expensive and undies…are handy. Especially since I won’t need to wear them while I’m fucking you.”

Shaking her head didn’t dislodge them. She felt bile rising, and by sheer dint of will, pushed it down.

“This will hold you.”

She heard a funny sound, a thunk, and realized that he’d slid her extra long vacuum cord off its hook. In the moment or two it had taken to figure it out, she shook herself. ‘Run, you moron!’ she shouted to herself in her head. A step, two, to the door. Fumbling for the door, the handle slid out of her fingers, then pulled open. A step into the corridor and moments from the stairs, his arms came around her again, tugging her back into her closet.

“Naughty girl.”

The cord was wound around her hands, half-way to her elbows, then looped over a nail behind the door, where her broom usually hung.  His hands worked quickly at her jeans. The cool breeze of the room on her ass was shocking. She was hot, burning with fear-fever. The first swat of something on her thigh made her knees give out, but the cord held her.

“Bad girls get a beating.”

It was unclear what he was hitting her with but it hurt like hell. In her minds eye, she pictured her closet. It had to be the thin dowel she used on the high windows for catching cobwebs. Her thighs bore the brunt of the blows. She would have screamed, may have screamed as he beat his way up and down the back of each leg. The last few blows fell where her ass and legs met, an especially tender spot. For a moment, there was nothing. She breathed hard through her nose, trying to slow her erratically pounding heart. Hurt. Hurt so fucking much. Maybe he would go now, though a quiet corner of her mind wondered why he’d only hit her legs.

He stepped close, she felt the heat of him behind her. As if he could read her mind, he spoke.

“I’m saving your ass for something special.”

She felt his dick probing her. His hands on her hips, tugging her back, impaling her on his shaft. It was rough, his entry into her cunt, yet she felt her moisture slicking his strokes. Her clit trembled.

Hands snaked up from her hips, up under the plain white tee she favored for work. Her bra was tugged up, her breasts falling free. Fingers grabbed, pawing at the bouncing flesh, pinching her tender nipples.

She came hard, her cunt clamping down on his probing cock.

His hips moved fast, piston-quick, boring into her deepest belly with quick, hard thrusts. His fingers coiled tight on her tits as he paused, hip-thrusted deep, as deep as he could fill her, as he exploded.

Shockwaves echoed through her as he pulled out, the sound wet and sucking.

He moved to the side, one arm looping around her waist. Fingers probed at her pussy, scooping wetness and pushing it into her ass. Her mumbled words were incoherent, but obviously was not a beg for more of the dark caress. Yet his fingers continued to work around her puckered butthole.

Something cold and hard pressed steadily into her bottom. It grew wider, wider, stretching her ass and making her squeal behind the gag. He pushed until she felt something tickling her ass cheeks.

“You look like a little bunny, with your dust wiper shove up your shithole. You keep that in there now.”

His laugh was dark, mean. As if she could shit out the long length of the handle. A handle that fit nicely in her hand, but was far less than comfortable in her ass. He tugged something over her head. One of her heavy-duty black trash bags. She panicked, but he didn’t tighten it, just left it there.

“That bag won’t impede your breathing if you don’t struggle too much. Now I’m going to spank you.”

He stepped away.  She heard the snap of the light switch, saw her jeans gathered around her feet, saw the floor, but that was all. No one would see him. There were no windows in here, no one left at school to notice that she hadn’t washed the floors. She’d told her family to expect her late tonight as Fridays always took extra cleaning time.

The bag muffled sounds, distorted them with the crinkle of plastic. The one earbud blared out a rock anthem from the 70’s. The first swat of a belt on her bare bottom came as a shock. Her body jolted. It was apparent that he was holding nothing back.



Fire. Her ass was on fire. Her asshole throbbed. She’d cum several times, her juices leaking down her thighs. There was no sense of how long he had beat her ass.  She was dizzy from an inadequate air supply, from cumming so hard. He’d turned her once, pressing against the plastic and kissing her through it, making each breath she attempted to draw an agony of fear.

And he’d fucked her again. Hard, with the dusting wand  still buried deeply in her ass.  She’d cum then, too.

“Fucking whore,” he’d said.

“Needy greedy sluthole” he called her.

He’d uncoiled the cord from her hands, wrapped it around her throat, holding her breath hostage.

Her heart pounded in her ear, the one not listening to ‘oh what a night it was’.  Beyond, was that the slam of the outer door? She grabbed for the cord, pulling and tugging it from around her, tearing at the bag to get it off her head before she blacked out. OUT came the horrid underwear he’d gagged her with.

Carefully, she pulled the duster from her backside, and threw that in the trash. The handle was flecked with shit, the fluffy side was wet with cum. She’d never look at one again without remembering this.

She ran to her closet, filled her mouth with water, rinsing, rinsing, clearing the taste of his poo, the salty tang of his pee-speckled underwear from her tongue. Saw her mop bucket ready. Resigned, she filled it with hot soapy water.  Still shaking, she mopped the floors. Responsibility was too ingrained to just leave them undone. People counted on her to make sure the building was clean and sparkling for classes on Monday. The throbbing in her bottom moved in time to the scrub-scrub-scrub of her mop.


Her kids kissed her and hugged her goodnight as her husband shepherded them into bed. She was bone weary, on the verge of tears. She wanted a shower. Stripping off her clothing as she closed the door to their bedroom, she moved into their bathroom and flicked on the water. Hot. She needed the heat to quell the shivers that seemed to come from her pussy, making her tremble. Dumping her soiled jeans, her tee-shirt, her underwear into the hamper, she stepped quickly into the hot stream. It poured over her, through her hair, over her face, down her aching tits, over her welted bottom.

“I’m coming in!”

Before she could stop him, her husband stepped in behind her.


She turned, blinking water, and perhaps some secret tears,  away.

“I thought you might need a new one. But for now, I can use it to scrub your back. Or your front. Or….fuck you with it….”

He held up the twin to her school duster, waving it back and forth in front of her face, before turning it shaft up and making a “shoving it up” gesture. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened in a O before “bastard!” spurted from her lips.

He laughed as she tried to punch him.


Masterbation Fantasy number nasty

“I know, little slut… you can hear them. So close. So almost-possible that they might, maybe, hear you.  If only. If only I hadn’t put that duct tape over your mouth, after stuffing your panties in there.”

“That’s it girl, squirm. Wriggle. You can’t, can you? No.”

“I made those nice and tight. You can certainly try to move, but here you lay, open and exposed. Your pretty little cunt open to my assault.”

“Your sexy whimpers don’t move me a bit, slut. Well, that’s not totally true. They do make my cock hard as a rock. You’ll enjoy the irony, being fucked by a cock that your pleading noises helped to harden.”

“That vibe is right on your clit, isn’t it? mmmmm, I’ll bet that makes you all quivery. Oh, too much? I see you tossing your pretty head ‘no’…but that doesn’t matter, you know. I like seeing you try to fight me. I’m still going to slide between these open thighs.”

“Yesss….just like that…”

“My cock will still slide into your fuckhole. Yes…you’re pretty hot and wet for someone who doesn’t want this. Your nipples are all tight too.”

“Oh, man. That was a good one. Lovely moan. I know, little whore. That had to hurt, didn’t it? I am guessing that no one has ever put anything on these fat nipples of yours, have they? Oh maybe someone’s kissed them, or sucked on them…but stick a tight clothes pin on it? No, that’s all mine. Hurts doesn’t it. I know, I love that it hurts that much. I found two old ones in the back of my kitchen cabinet, just for you.”

“Yes, I did say two. And there’s still just one on one nipple. Let’s fix that…”

“Look at you, writhing again. I think I should distract you from the hurting on your poor lovely fat tits. Turning the vibe up all the way should help you. Oh? No?”

“I love the way the vibe makes your cunt feel. I can feel it too, deep inside your belly when my cock is all the way inside you. I feel the hummmmm of it, and the way your body clenches up around me, like a hot velvet glove.”

“Tight. So wet and tight…”

“I think you’re liking this too much. Here, now, pay attention.”

“Oh, no tears. It was just a little slap to your cheek. Toughen up a bit, slut.  You’ll get all snotty-nosed if you cry and then won’t you have a hard time breathing, what with your dirty panties in your mouth…”

“Oh, I hear car doors….they must be moving away.”

“O…yeah…take it cunt…take my dick up your pussy…all…the ….fucking…way…”

“You fucking whore….I’m….gaaaaaaaaaawwwwwd…..”

“No, I’m gonna keep this vibe right here. I know how sensitive your clit will be after cumming. Yeah…wriggle. Writhe. Try to get away.”

“You won’t.”



She muttered to herself as she shuffle papers. Didn’t matter that everyone else was gone for the night, home to family, out with friends. Some to watch the World Series on tv, some off to a run.

Maybe some were having sex.

She wished she was having sex. With some hot stud. Maybe Michael from bookkeeping. He was a sexy guy, tall, built, and what hinted at an impressive package under his khakis. She sighed, reached for her antacid pills, banged her phone with her elbow, and in catching it, managed to drop almost half her papers to the floor.

“Well FUCK!” 

She swiveled back in her chair, surveying the damage. Squatting on the floor trying to find the order of the fucking things, she let out an impatient sigh when the lights went out.


She squatted, waiting.


Was that a footstep? Isn’t this the scene where the girl gets offed, in a horror flick, because she doesn’t beat feet and get out of there in a hurry?

There was a noise behind her. Before she could move, something came over her head. In seconds, she was tugged up to her feet, shoved into a chair. Her chair, from the lingering warmth under her butt. Struggling, flailing out with her hands, trying to get the thing off her head, she felt the cuff slap on her left wrist, her wrist tugged behind her back, behind the support of the chair. It only took a moment for her right wrist to be cuffed too. She yelled. Tried shaking her head to loosen her blindfold, nothing.

To her distress, she heard the unmistakable sound of duct tape being ripped.

“What are you doing? Stop! Let me go. NOW!”

The steady peel and rip of duct tape was the only sound.


No one came.

No one was there, in the building.

Except her.

And him.

She trembled. A few minutes ago she’d been dreaming of having sex with some one. And now she was being — well, she didn’t know what was happening. She hated the fearful tone in her voice as she pleaded with him to let her go.

Her ankle was caught, her leg hooked up and over the chair arm and wrapped with tape. Kicking out with her free foot, that too was caught. He held it under his arm as she struggled and whimpered and screamed. Her foot was freed.

He pulled off her shoe, and rubbed the sole of her foot over his pants. She felt the thick bulge pressing against her foot. Obviously her struggles were turning him on.

“You sick bastard.”

He laughed then, the first sound he’d made, as he secured her ankle over the opposite chair arm. She was open, vulnerable.

Her cunt lurched as his palm cupped her through her panty hose. His thumbnail rasped against the fabric, making a pleasant little hmmm against her sensitive flesh.

There was  a metallic click, then the cool rush of air on her pussy.


Though she twisted and writhed, in moments, her shirt had also been cut apart. His hands on her tits were rough, pinching and pulling on her soft skin. Grasping her nipples, she was tugged forward.


The tug on her nipples was almost too much to bear. She cried out, begging for him to stop.


His thumb slid into her slick cunt.

“Hurts? Very wet.”

She tried to place the voice, but the thumb in her pussy was distracting her. She didn’t want this. She…


More fingers inside her, wiggling insidiously, rubbing her sensitive folds, making her belly quiver. She would not cum. She would not cum. She would not…

The hum of a motor startled her, even more so when something pushed hard against her pussy.

Her head fell back, helpless at the assault on her senses. Too much, too good, too terrible. Whimpers and moans came faster, as her cunt clenched on the probing fingers, as the buzzing vibe did it’s best to coax a reaction from her.

She was going to cum. She was so close. So close.

Yet, abruptly, the vibe was pulled away, the fingers left her pussy.

“oh, nooooo…” she moaned.

His cock filled her. Hard, thick, deep up into her belly, he drove hard enough to push her chair back. And back again. Until it fetched up against some immovable object.

“Going to fill you…”

She moaned.

“With my baby-makers…”

She moaned.

“Fill you with those swimmers…”

Oh god she didn’t want..she shuddered…

“Fill your belly with my baby…”

She came, hard, as his cock parried her every contraction, stabbing into her with rapier skill. Over and again he sheathed into her hot slickness, banging hard on the entrance to her innermost secret place.

“Going to push my seeds right up to your front door….

Her head rolled from side to side, her hands, still behind her, clenched into fists as the pleasure rolled through her. Fuck, fuck, fuck, her mind screamed, though what came from her mouth was more “ughn, ungh, ungh…”.

She swore she could feel the pulsing jettison of his semen into her body. His head leaned against hers as he shimmied his hips driving deeper into her, as if he could shoot his load straight through her.

How many times her body convulsed around him, she had no idea. She must have fainted.


She woke, forehead on her desk.

Blinking, yawning, she wondered why she was sleeping at work. Her papers…yet, looking around she saw them all neatly stacked on her desk. Her pussy throbbed, and she remembered, with a sudden rush, her dream. Her hand went to her blouse, but all her buttons were buttoned. In her dream “he” had cut them off, she recalled. Geezus. It was time to call it a night. The clock on her phone said “2:01 a.m.”  No wonder she’d fallen asleep!

She rose, then, and took a wobbly step. One shoe was off. Must’ve come off in my sleep, she mused, bending over to retrieve it from under her desk.

She felt the breeze on her pussy as she bent, and froze. Her hand reached up under her skirt. There was a large hole in her pantyhose. Maybe it had been there all day? The crotch of her panties were soaked.

“Fucking wet dream,” she muttered, but her heart raced. Quickly she gathered up her belongings and almost ran outside to her car.  Fumbling with the keys, she threw her purse on the passenger seat, and slid into the driver’s side. Moving to adjust the rear view, her hand touched the roll of silver duct tape hanging there.


3 Gruff Sisters and the Troll- A Sexy Fairy Tale

i worked on this with great assistance from my dear friend and fellow author Will from Erotic Writers. I sent it out for publication and heard nothing so *shrugs* whatever, right? Since I’m still not feeling well (it’s been such a yucky weekend at Casa nilla–even Master is being unerringly kind to me 🙂 ) I thought I’d plop it here, since who knows when I’ll be back to writing again? Enjoy. OH, it’s a bit long, and I thought about serializing it, but then figured, hell, my readers can handle 5000 words! ~nilla~

The day dawned sunny and bright. After a solid week of too much to do, the Gruff sisters decided it was time to head up to the meadows. All three girls were looking forward to a day of leisure, soaking up the sun, weaving garlands of flowers for their hair, gathering berries, chasing butterflies. Whatever they chose to do, they would. It was a day for fun and relaxation. Back at home, there would always be chores – the sort of things that never, ever were “done”. They had decided last night that they all needed a little break. Besides, the littlest sister, Andi, pointed out, they’d have berries for breakfast for the rest of the week.

Pacing around the parlor,  Andi was full of impatience and a goodly amount of impudence. After watching her sisters fuss over their clothing for far too long, she decided to venture off on her own. Eventually they would catch up to her. She didn’t exactly leave stealthily, though she did close the door very quietly on the sound of her sisters voices.  Which corset, indeed! She, clad in a simple cotton skirt and blouse, almost skipped for joy as she left their home behind, and climbed the narrow road heading up to the rolling foothills. She enjoyed the breeze full of verdant scents. Closing her eyes for a moment, and tipping her head up for the kiss of the sun on her cheeks, she smiled for the first time in days. Sweet, this taste of freedom!

Singing a naughty little tune under her breath, she came to the heavy-timbered bridge. Here she paused nervously. There had been rumors that a troll had taken up residence under the bridge. Looking up and down the long riverbed,  the silver ribbon of the river was low, sparkling in the sunshine on its path down the mountains. It was entirely reasonable that there could be a troll down there, hiding just out of view in the shadow of the bridge. She’d heard other things about trolls, too. Things that made her nervously excited.

Her heart thumping hard in her chest, the littlest Gruff sister decided to run, run, fast as she could, across the wooden trestle. It was really more of a skip, however, with an occasional pause to peer down at the river below. Of the rumored troll there was no sign, much to her disappointment.

Yet, before she reached the end of the bride, a large, hairy, and incredibly fearful-looking troll leapt in front of her, blocking her way.

“Who dares to cross my bridge?” He shouted at her, his voice a ferocious growl. A waft of fetid air came from his mouth and she shivered and turned her head away.

“Tis only me, Sir Troll, the littlest Gruff sister. I am on my way to yonder meadow to pick daisies…” pausing, she reached into her pocket. “Breath mint?” She handed him a wad of honied mint. “I made it myself. And really, Sir, you very much need it.”

He, waving a meaty hand in the air, paused to stare at the wee lass standing before him, offering a treat. Perplexed, he snatched it up, tossing it into his mouth. He frowned down at her, while attempting to gobble it quickly. Once it hit his mouth, however, it melted into a sticky goo, taking him several minutes of chewing and mouthing the thing to get it down. All the time, the little wench stood, head tilted, watching him with a small smile on her face.

“You…should be SCARED of Troll,” he growled at her.

“Oh, that’s much better. Your breath I mean. And I’m very scared.” She smiled up at him innocently and batted her lashes.

“As I was saying, Sir Troll, I’m headed up to yon meadow to gather yummy tasting blackberries, which I will gladly share with you on my return, kind Sir.” She finished speaking, then moved, gently brushing her breasts against his arm, as if trying to edge past him.

He grabbed her arm, stopping her. With his other hand, he pulled apart the lower part of his pants. An engorged cock burst free, startling the poor girl. She stared at him, at it, aghast, waving her hand in front of her face.

“NO BERRIES! This  is the only thing you’ll  be tasting today,” he said, shaking her a bit.

“I’m afraid that part of you is just as…aromatic as your breath was, Sir Troll. I can see that you’re not much for bathing, are you? And yet, there’s that lovely stream just below. Why, I imagine that if you ran down there quickly, washed that impressive…I mean…frightening…part of you carefully, and rushed back, I wouldn’t even have time to finish crossing the bridge before you returned, and had your wicked way with me.”

Once more she tilted her head at him, aimed that innocent smile at him. He frowned, took a step back, then bolted for the side of the bridge. From underneath came the sound of crashing underbrush, furious splashing, and a faint curse as cold water came in contact with warm flesh. In moments, it seemed, he was back.

He strode to her, grasping her hair, and pulled her to her knees. In moments the large purple head brushed her against her closed mouth. Yet, at that first touch of his cock,  her lips parted. As he jutted his hips forward, he sank deeply into the wet, succulent heat of her mouth.

She gagged, a bit.  He moaned as she tried to keep her breakfast in her belly. As he moved, sawing his giant shaft into and out of her mouth, she found a rhythm to breathing and relaxing her throat. After all, it wasn’t everyday a girl had a cock this huge thrust into her mouth! She felt an answering thud to her racing heart between her thighs. She had dreamt of such wicked things, ever since she had accidentally spied the Widow Morris licking the cock of her stableman as if it were a delightful length of taffy. She had often remembered that scene, wondering at the taste and texture of a man’s shaft, while touching her own folds. And now, it was happening to her!

Her lips were stretched wide, her eyes were squeezed shut, as he continued pumping in and out of her mouth. She tried to suck it back each time he withdrew, and curled her tongue around it each time the massive length slid deeply into her throat. She could feel him quiver, and hear his gasps. If her lips hadn’t been stretched so, she would have smiled. At long last, and far too soon,  he grunted, and a hot, salty fluid filled her mouth. She’d never tasted such a thing before, and there was so much of it! It was like over-salted cream, she thought, runnels of the stuff leaking out the corners of her lips, as she licked and suckled the softening length of him.

With a pop, he pulled out, and tucked his rod away.

“Go,” he ordered roughly, and without hesitation, the littlest Gruff girl rose on shaking knees and ran the rest of the way across the bridge and up and up until she reached the meadow, where she fell back into the soft cushioning grasses, and slipped her fingers between her legs, licking her lips for one more taste of the Troll, until she shivered and quaked her way to the most incredible release she’d ever had.


Fiona looked around the house. It quickly became apparent that Andi had taken off on her own again. With a sigh, she looked at the dishes in the sink. They kept piling up, like magic. Evil magic, she mused, frowning at them. She could use the time while she waited for their eldest sister to finish her preparations (though for goodness sake they were only going to the meadow, not a grand ball!) by attacking the pile in the sink. She really should, she mused, as she eyed the back door with longing.


With a burst of energy, she strode across the kitchen and was out the door before she could interrupt their leisure day. Somehow, it never felt like she got that break. There was always something that needed attention. Laundry or mucking the stable, gathering eggs, or patching their garments- always there was a longer list of things to be attended to then there were hours in the day. She knew  that the dishes would still be there when they returned this evening. She hoped, wished, dreamed, that someday she’d find a handsome prince, who would have a fine castle and hundreds of servants to do all the dishes.

She smiled at her folly, as there were no princes anywhere around here, just magical creatures. Really, she would even settle for one of the fae. How lovely it would be to have someone to help around the house. Even better, to have someone to snuggle with in her lonely bed. She kept a tattered book hidden under her feather bed, with exotic pictures of men and women entwined together. She’d studied them all, especially the page with a certain tantalizing picture of woman’s ankles,  up and over the man’s shoulders, his penis poised at the entrance hidden between her thighs. His arms were bulging with muscles, as were his thighs. His erect shaft rose from a thatch of thick hair. She had spent many a long evening tracing it with her fingertips.

She wanted to see one. She mouthed the words as she walked. Penis. Cock. She shivered at the naughtiness of saying it aloud.  She ached to touch one. Yearned to feel it press into her, to fill her belly with its firm length.  There were many stories she had spun about that, as she touched herself in the deep dark night. Many nights  she had to bite her lips to keep from crying out as her mystery lover brought her to the peak, as her body wept copious amounts of love juice.

The sun shone brightly as she moved up the pathway, lost in thought. She often wondered if her sisters ever thought about men in the way she did. She was constantly dreaming of them and their hard bodies.  Her slow steps eventually brought her to the heavy wooden bridge. She kept walking, her feet moving automatically, her mind tangled in images of her deepest longing.

“Who dares to cross my bridge?”

With a shriek, she took a step back, catching one foot on the other,  falling. She landed on her backside, legs sprawled, head spinning. It was a troll. He was tall, with a thick beard and hair like a dark halo around his head.  He was impressively ugly, yet he smelled like Andi’s  mouth mints.

Wasn’t that curious?

All the warning tales about sightings of a troll at the Meadow Bridge ran through her head. She’d discounted them as foolish stories meant to scare people-after all, there hadn’t been a troll on this side of the mountains in decades! Yet here she was, and there, most definitely, stood a troll.

He seemed enormously tall; then again, she was laying on her back and looking up at him. His scowl was ferocious.  Or perhaps it was a smile? His teeth and mouth were huge, and as he approached her, looming over her where she lay, she wondered if this nasty beast would eat her! She wished she’d paid more attention to how to be rid of one.

“You were crossing my bridge. You must pay a toll.”

“I…I haven’t any coin with me. I was just on my way to the meadow. I can give you berries on my return, Mister Troll. Would that be a fair toll?”

“Berries? Berries? What is it with you girls and berries?” The troll shook his head, setting his scraggled hair to dancing. Fiona lay looking up at him, thinking that he wouldn’t be quite so fearsome if his clothing fit better and was clean. She was very handy with a needle.

“You aren’t all that terrible looking, Mr. Troll. Why, with a proper haircut, you’d be passing handsome!”

Fiona wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised by that little pearl of wisdom as it popped from her mind to her lips.

“Troll is NOT handsome,” He growled, hands on his hips. He glared down at her, yet she sensed a longing in him. Being a troll under a bridge must be a lonely thing, after all.

“Troll will take his toll. NO more talk of berries.”

In seconds, his pants were tugged aside and the most amazing penis popped out. Being of a somewhat analytical nature, Fiona looked at it intently, comparing it to the pictures she’d seen in her book. It was a lot bigger. ‘One might even term it massive,’ she thought in awe..It had thick veins, and a swollen purple head. Two heavy, meaty balls hung below it, each as big as her fist!

He stepped between her sprawled open ankles, then dropped to his knees. She swore she felt the bridge tremble under her. His hands grasped the hem of her skirt and it suddenly dawned on her exactly what sort of toll he was going to take from her.

Excitement mixed with fear. It was, she could see, so much larger than the wooden cock she kept with that book under her bed. She wondered for a moment if such a huge thing could even fit inside her own, much smaller body.

“Mr. Troll?” she bit her lip. It wasn’t everyday that fantasy came to life and she didn’t want to blow this opportunity.

“I-.”  She paused again. How did one address the issue of “fitting” with a troll?

He looked at her, brows furrowed. “What you want, girl?”

“Well, Mr. Troll, your….cock,” and she blushed profusely to say that word aloud to him. “it seems very large. I wonder if it will….fit?” Her voice trailed off. The head of his cock dripped a pearly bead of fluid. She licked her lips, watching as a second drop gathered, then fell in slow motion to the ground between their legs.

He laughed, the sound like metal scraping against metal. It was not a pretty sound.

“My cock is biggest Troll cock in these mountains.” He gestured expansively.

‘Likely the only troll cock in these mountains,’ thought Fiona, though she held her tongue.

He grasped the base of his cock, shaking it at her, making another thick droplet fall to the ground.

“I make it fit.”

Suiting words to actions, he leaned forward, pressing his enormous penis against her cleft. He slid it up and down her slit, making her arch and moan when he hit the sensitive place at the top. He pressed forward. She spread her legs wider.

“Please?” she whimpered, then taking the initiative from him, lifted her hips until the head of his cock was virtually sucked into her tight channel.

Her eyes nearly rolled up in her head;  it was like nothing she’d imagined. She rose higher, taking him deeper. His cock stretched her, making her ache in a delightful way. She opened one eye, staring up at the troll. He was staring down at where their bodies were joined. She could see confusion on his face.

“Well?” she growled up at him. “Get on with raping me, will you?”

He blinked, obviously unused to being ordered around in this fashion. He started to sit back on his haunches to think about this, but she wrapped her legs around his thick torso.

“Now…” she snarled at him, “rape me now!”

Tightening her legs, she impaled herself deeper on his thickness. Nature took over at that point, and he pressed the rest of the way into her.  As he pulled back, she tightened her ankles, trying to hold him in; she felt so delightfully full!

He moved to lay atop her, and she moaned. Oh the delight of being pinned helplessly in this way. He bit her nipple, making her arch against his mouth. In moments she was screaming, coming hard, her pussy  clenching and massaging the length of him. He fucked, she came again. He fucked, and fucked and fucked. After a long, long while, he stiffened.

She was in somewhat of a stupor, having had orgasm after orgasm, yet his fingers found her clit, his mouth all but inhaling her breast, as his cock grew impossibly thicker, and began to pulse. She came with a roar, her fingers twining into his hair, pushing his head onto her breast, back arching, legs tightening, pulling him as deep as possible inside of her.

He was coming. Pressed hard against her insides, with no room to spare, every ounce of his  juice filled her. Her back arched, her body taking more, as much more as she could get. Never before had she felt this wanton. Never before had she ever imagined that one of the pages of her hidden Matings book would come to life. Never before had she felt so good. It was the stuff of fantasy, come to life.

She lay, flaccid, as he rolled away.

“Wait,” she whispered, her hand outstretched in longing. But he had already vanished below the bridge. At long last, she rose, her body glowing, and walked onward to the meadow, with their juices tracing down her thighs.


Sue tugged once more on the laces of her corset. She did like them tight, and damnit, her sisters had likely already left, as she’d called to them twice and gotten no response. Doing herself up the best way she could, she adjusted her leather pants, straightened her boots, and gathered up her implements. Her sisters were definitely of the “girlish” variety; she herself was made of sterner stuff.

It wasn’t that she was cruel to them, but they needed tasks to help keep them happy. A long time ago Sue had noted that most people fell into two distinct catagories- those that like the doing for others, and those that liked receiving such doings. Her sisters were the former while she was very much the latter.

She liked going to the mountain meadow well enough, but she would be hunting game for dinner. The younger two would braid flowers or some such frittery, while she would get on with the business of supplying them with meat.

As if they could live on daisies, she snorted to herself. Taking up her hunting sack, she slung it over her shoulder, and headed up the road.

At the bridge she paused. The locals had spoken, just last week when she was in town, of the possible presence of a troll. While she’d seen nothing of the kind herself, she left naught to chance. Unslinging her whip and club, she walked steadily across the bridge, taking note of a puddle in the center. Bending, she pressed a finger into it. Warm. Sniffing it, she frowned.


In the middle of the bridge where her sisters had been? Now, wasn’t that passing strange? She rose to her feet, weapons at the ready, but nothing untoward occurred, and she continued on to the hills. She found one sister picking berries near the trailhead.

“Hie, Fiona!” She called. Fiona’s head popped up, startled. She turned away from her sister, just a bit, enough to make her curious.

“What ails you?”

“Nothing. Just …picking berries.”

“Fiona, I can tell you are…what the hell is that?” Sue pointed at the stain on the front of her sister’s dress. It was dark with the drying spittle of the troll.

Her sister cast her eyes to the ground, lower lip trembling.

“I …I couldn’t stop it. Truth? I…I didn’t want to. He was so big, Sue. His arms were like logs, his legs like marble. And oooh how huge  his cock, Susan!  Merciful goddess, his cock was a work of art!”

She paused, hand to her breast, remembering. She smiled, smitten.

“He needed a haircut, a shave, and some tailoring, but he was so ruggedly handsome.”

Sue looked at her sister in disbelief. What the hell had she been drinking up here? Last years mead?

A trilling call and rippling grasses presaged their younger sisters arrival. Her hands were full of daisy crowns, and she plunged into the scene with happy cheer.

She moved to pass out the crowns, but caught onto the tension.

“What…what..?” she asked, confused.

“I think our sister has fucked a troll.” Sue spoke flatly, hands on hips.

“I didn’t mean to, and it was just my mouth…” Andi’s eyes fell to her feet. Looking up, she saw the disbelief on both sisters faces.

“Wait…he got you, too?” squeaked Fiona.

After a few minutes of cacophony, of catcalling  “you slut, you whore” Sue had had enough. The volume and shrillness rose until she dropped her hands on her hips and whistled as if to dogs.

Both girls stopped, clapping hands over their ears. She had a fearsome whistle!

“Enough. It appears that we have a resident troll, who fucked you,” and she pointed at Fiona, “and used your mouth,” she continued, speaking to Andi. They nodded, still mutinous.

“And I didn’t see him at all, so he was likely totally fatigued by having both you juicy pieces in such a short time. Very well, I’ll just see to that. Give me an hour before you return.”

Both girls nodded somberly.

“Sue?” Fiona asked, her voice a bit sad. “Please…don’t hurt him too much. I…I kind of liked what he did. A lot.”

“A lot, but kind of? Silly girl. Pleasured by a stinky troll? There are better ways…”

“Like there’s anything hung like that in town,” muttered Andi under her breath.

Sue shook her head, torn between bewilderment and annoyance. She pointed to each of her sisters, her tone brooking no argument.

“Stay. Here.”

A chorus of “yes Ma’am”‘s followed her as she left the meadow at a near trot.


She came to the bridge in short order, her long strides and impressive annoyance eating up the miles.

“Yo, Troll!” She shouted.

In a few moments, he clambered up the bank, looking more than a bit exhausted.

“What you doin’ on my bridge,”  he tried to thunder, but really, it had been a long, long time since he’d had an orgasm, let alone two in an hour. He was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

She took a step forward.

He took a step back.

She backed him across the bridge, step by step. Once his contact with the water and bridge was broken, as he stood on the road, his power was broken.

In moments, Sue had looped her whip around his neck, collared him, and led him back to the house. He trudged along behind her, thinking fondle of napping. In the backyard was the old trough where they watered their mare.

“Get those clothes off. Hard to say which smells more…you or those rags. Get in there and wash.”

He grumbled. She pointed, first with her finger, then with her short crop. She swatted his backside as he reluctantly clambered into the water.

“Stay there.”

Striding into the house, she found one of the bars of lavender soap that her sister made, and tossed that at him. Before he could bite it, she stopped him.

“NO! Wash yourself–every INCH of yourself–you stinking creature.”

It took a while, and many buckets of water, until Sue was satisfied that he was de-stunk enough to enter the house.  His clothing stayed in the trough, he could come out later and wash them.

She walked around him as he stood in the kitchen. Her sisters were right. A bath, and later, some grooming, and he would be more than passing presentable.  Stopping in front of him, she looked at the giant cock between his hairy legs. Interesting. She smiled. Directing him to her room, she bid him to sit on the floor and to not move.

In moments she was back, with a strange ring in her hands.

“This used to be part of our mares tack. I’m going to put it on your cock. . . because it is my cock now, understand?”

He was slow to answer. As punishment, she swatted his upper legs, catching the hanging cock, making him yelp. He may have been big, but he still felt pain.

“Yes. Your cock.” He answered a bit reluctantly at first, then continued hopefully,  “I like your cock.  Troll want to put your cock in your cockhole.”

“Later, perhaps,” she purred at him. She slid the silver ring over his balls, then slipped his flaccid cock through. He frowned, moved a bit. She grabbed his testicles, squeezing firmly.

“Enough wiggling. Be a good boy and stay still.”

His hairy brows beetled down, his expression confused.  He watched her cross the room, tugging down her man-pants. He’d never seen a girl wear pants like that before. Yet she had all the right girl parts.

“Come here and taste me. I’ve always wanted someone to lick me. You have a big tongue. I want you to use it on me. Lick me good and I might let you fuck my sister again.”

The troll went to work, having never tasted pussy before, he found it delightful, his mouth and lips working to devour every drop of fluid, stroking over her button, making her writhe and moan and leak more honey onto his tongue. He pressed his tongue into her cockhole, and found it to be hot, and clenching on him. Fucking her with his tongue was delightful for both of them.

She had never ever felt the like! To have an enormous tongue lapping and stabbing into her nether regions? Amazing.

“My ass…you must lick me there, too…my crack, my hole..all of it.”

Being a troll of small brains, he wasn’t worried about that. He’d eaten worse, actually. His tongue slid up her back cleft as readily as the front, then pierced into her ass with abandon.He actually smacked his lips between slurpy suctioning of her ass and cockhole!

Finally she pushed him away. She was light-headed from so many orgasms. She heard her sisters come in, the sound of their nervous whisperings.

“Fiona! Andi! Come in here!”

She stood, bare-bottomed, the troll laying at her feet.

The two girls stopped, amazed at the sight.

“I believe we found the answer to our needs…our pet troll will help with all our chores, won’t you, Troll?”

He nodded, though he wasn’t altogether sure what a ‘chore’ was. He wondered if it tasted like the snack he had just enjoyed. He smacked his lips.

Sue looked to her sisters. “And we shall take turns with him, so that everyone gets to enjoy our new pet. Agreed?”

They nodded assent eagerly.


“Your tea, Madam.”

His accent was perfect, thought Sue. It hadn’t taken too many beatings to whip him into shape. His suit and tie fit impeccably, he was well-groomed, and he only tended to slobber after the guests had been served high tea. She’d allowed that-as long as he was in the kitchen or stables, and out of his livery. A troll, after all, is still very much a troll under the fine clothing.

She also didn’t mind the gruntings and foul language when he was occupied with one of her sisters, and certainly enjoyed his controlled attentions herself.

Yes, the Gruff sisters, had done well in civilizing their new pet. And although he would sometimes frown and stomp around the house, all it took was a raised eyebrow, and the suggestive tapping of her crop against her boot to end any thought of stomping away.

No, he was their troll now, and he was never found under the bridge again.

The End


They met in a bar in a mutually convenient location. First dates were always fraught with tensions on both sides of the table. He wanted to run his finger down the curves of her little black neckline, to see if her skin was as soft as it looked.

She wanted to be loved. Nurtured. Stroked.

She wanted to be wanted.

He wanted with a ferocity that was mind-boggling. There was one goal here. Score!

So much rested on the end of the drink. Would she have another? Or be on her way.

Three hurricane cocktails later they were laughing, while under the table, the press of his dick against his pants was painful. He enjoyed the pain, the promise of pleasure. He noted her nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her dress, she noticed him noticing.

She might have blushed, or maybe it was just the flush of the rum, but what the hell. He took her hand as they walked to her car.

“Follow me home. Please?”

She bit her lip. Following him home meant that she would likely stay through morning. She nodded, biting her lip, then giggled as she almost fell over when she leaned into him for a drunken kiss. He grabbed her before she went over, steadying her.

“Wait a sec…I think you shouldn’t be driving. Come with me…” His voice was tender with concern, and she kissed him again before sliding around him. The rush of sex-need was intense.

“Hurry,” she whispered as she nibbled his earlobe. He put her into the passenger seat, then buckled himself into the driver seat. He shifted, trying to ease the ache in his groin. It had never been so intensely hard. She must be sending off some powerful pheromones. He waited while she stabbed the seatbelt into place.

It took three tries.

With a flourish, she finally sent it home, the click as loud as clapping.

“Did it!” she giggled.

“At last,” he thought as he turned the car on.  She wasn’t sure what they talked about but it was not all that long before they cruised into a driveway, the dark open maw of a garage before them. He drove in slowly, put it into park, then unbuckled both belts. Drawing her across the seat, he kissed her with a hunger that reignited her own rum-fueled passion.

Fumbling, stumbling, they made it up the three steps from the garage to the kitchen, into the house, down the hallway. A long line of discarded clothing, mostly hers, left a trail. He kissed and pinched and fondled her breasts. She must have liked it for in moments she stood naked, back to the wall, arms stretched over her head.

“Ravage me, you beast,” she half-slurred, arching her back and thrusting her ruby-tipped tits towards him. His fingers grabbed and twisted, but the rougher he handled her the more she arched and growled.

He could smell her arousal, see the silver glint of it trailing down her thighs. His hands grabbed handfuls of tit, kneading the fat roundness, rubbing his still sheathed cock against her belly.

“Do me,” she whispered, biting his earlobe. “Take me hard, rough. I love it rough. Fuck me brutally you beast!”

Grabbing her hair he almost threw her across the room to his large bed. He smacked her ass as she landed on her side giggling. She moaned deeper as he battered at her bottom, her back arching, ass rising into each slap.

The heat from her ass cheeks, now a bright cherry red, excited him and he began to pant with need.

“I want to tie you, rape you, fuck you like you deserve,” he grunted.

‘Yes, yes, hurry. Tie me, fuck me, take me, you demon. Use me like a fucking whore…”

“Yesssss,” he moaned, dragging her up the bed to wrap her wrists painfully tight with the rope that he’d put there earlier, hopeful.

She growled as the rope bit into her flesh, hurting and exciting her simultaneously. In moments he was tying her ankle just as tight, stretching her leg wide. She’d never been tied so tightly before. She felt her nipples clench tight, her pussy so wet, so needy.

“Fucking hurrrrry. I’m dying for your cock.”

He turned and slapped her pussy hard, striking repeatedly. She cried, she kicked at the mattress, at him, with her free ankle. He grabbed it with one hand, while continuing the assault on her pussy.

“Come,” he demanded, slapping hard and hitting her clit. With a scream, she arched, whimpering prayers to nameless deities as she came again.

“That’ll hold you at least for a minute, you greedy slut!”

Hurriedly he tied her other ankle as her pussy pulsed and drooled.

Rising from the bed he shut the light and finished undressing.

“Hit me again you fucker!” she yelled, tugging at her restraints, thrashing her head. It was hard to see him in the room now, with the only light coming from the hallway. He moved towards her, mounting the bed, crawling between her thighs. His cock slid across her leg.

“What was that, you bastard? HIT me!” she demanded.

“My cock wants your wet holes, you little slut. Just as much as your holes want my cock.”

“Not my ass!”

“Oh yes, all your holes. Every one, mine!”

He laughed, then leaned forward and slapped her tits. He admired the bounce with every blow, the red imprint of his hand, the tight crinkle of her nipple. He laid atop her, and she felt his cock between her thighs.

Growling, she wanted it in her, dammit, she still rose as his mouth latched onto her breast, sucking and biting. The probing at her cunt made her freeze. Several somethings were probing. She felt a poke at her asshole, her pussy. Something fat and flexible probed at her, and he grunted around a mouthful of tit.

“Wha…what the…fuuuuck….” 

Her head arched back as she was suddenly full, both holes, with twisting, twining somethings.

He pressed his lower body closer, grinding his pelvis against her, moaning.

The fullness moved deeper, into her pussy, probing against her cervix, a painful excitement building there.

“Oh…oh fuck…” she drew a deep breath as the thing in her ass shoved deeply into her bowels. Past caring what it was, the sensations of dual-fullness, of pain in breast and belly ground her into an intense orgasm.

“Yessssssss!” He moaned, the first hard spurt shooting through and filling her belly with his seed. He filled her, filled her, filled her to overflowing, as dick in her ass and pussy pulsed hot jism into her.

Arching, receiving, feeling bloated and full of him. So full of him. He bit her nipple, bit her tit, and she welcomed it, reveled in it. Orgasms wracked her body, as she absorbed his juice, until spent, she slept.

She woke.

He stood beside the bed, and she stared at the place where his cock should have been. A small nubbin was there. Just that.

“Wh-what?” Feeling like she’d woken from a stupor, she stretched. Her body felt languid.

“They fall off after I cum, then grow back. The longer I go before I have sex, the more of them grow. Last night I had two. You seemed to enjoy them.”

He smiled at her.

Reaching out to fondle the nubbin, that was almost visibly growing, she smiled up at him.

“How long does it take to grow back?”

“Depends on the inspiration,” he replied with a wink.

“Beat me, you fucking bastard!” Dropping the empty juice glass onto the night stand, she thrust her finger at him.

His cock grew an inch when he slapped her inner thigh.

* Yes, there really is a drink called a Hurricane Cocktail: 1 oz dark rum, 2 teaspoons lime juice, 1 tablespoon passion-fruit syrup. Shake in a cocktail shaker with ice, strain into a cocktail glass.  url here: Hurricane Cocktail

** with special thanks to Donna, my scientific guru, who provided invaluable data to me about a species of sea creature that does indeed shed its penis after copulating, only to regrow another quickly. Some of these incredible creatures can thus copulate 3-4 times in 24 hours. Horny little devils. (my kind of creature!)

and yeah. blog vacation. fail. again. 🙂 The idea of it seems to be inspiring a lot of these “interesting” stories, however.  ~n~


dragon2Fist in her hair holding her face to the bed.

Hands on her legs, tugging up her skirt, ripping down her pantyhose.


The voice came from behind her, and she felt her wrists tugged to her back, the slick feel of plastic looping around them, tugged tight enough to bite into her wrists.

A finger probed her slit, finding her hole.

She tried to shake her head, but the hand in her hair held her still, held her face into the mattress, nearly cutting off her breath.

There was a sound, she recognized as a belt coming undone, the metal chink of the buckle tugged open, the unmistakable sound of a zipper being quickly lowered.

And then he was in her.

Two hands on her head, two hands holding her forearms, as he pummelled her pussy from behind. Her legs hung off over the edge of the bed as he reamed her, pumping so hard that her left shoe fell off with a thunk to the floor.

Fingers biting into her arm as she felt the cock in her pussy pump its jizz into her belly.

A sigh, a soft moan, the pop of release as he tugged out of her. She felt the mattress below her cunt wet with the drizzle from her leaking hole.

Hands moved, tugging hairs from her head, other hands taking over, mashing her face in the bed.

Fingers probing her pussy, and she knew, she knew what was coming. Fingers smearing wetness on her asshole, fingers poking into that tightly muscled ring. She tried to scream then, voice muffled in the bedclothes, tried to struggle, but to no avail.

There was pressure, as the finger was withdrawn,  as the hot flared head of a cock replaced it. The thick head was relentless, and her anus was sprung open as the invader popped inside.

She screamed again, deep into the mattress, her body taut with the pain.

And then he was withdrawing, pulling all the way out.

A moment of relief, just like after having a big poo, and she thought, hoped, prayed that was it, that he was done, that it was over.

It wasn’t over.

Between one breath and the next, he pressed forward into that tight bundle of tissue, sliding even more deeply into her bowels . He withdrew yet again, she whimpered,  understanding now that he was enjoying the sensations of her ass fighting his assault.

He thrust hard, her asshole relenting to his pole. He slid deep, filling her shithole with the thick hard prick. He ground his hips into her, until she felt the crinkly hair of his crotch against her asscheeks, working his tool all the way into her ass. She tried to push him out, and he ground deeper, corkscrewing his shaft up into her gut.

And holding.

“I’m in.”

There was a sound, which she couldn’t identify. Her head was lifted, and a wad of something shoved between her lips, then sticky duct tape over that.  Something was wound around and around her head, taking her sight. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t scream. She couldn’t fight, couldn’t stop them.

She was rolled to her side, then her back, the other cock still lodged deeply in her ass. The throbbing there was intense, she felt the need to shit, to expel that which filled her so.

She felt, too, the throb in her clit, her nipples.  She felt the flush of shame at that.

Her hands hurt, pressed under her back, against the shirt of the man under her. The bed shifted again.

She shook her head, even as hands came to her shirt, ripping it open, as her bra was ruthlessly shoved up over her tits, baring them.

A cock probed her pussy slit, fingers pinched her left nipple, teeth clamped over her right.

And then he was inside her in one hard thrust.

The man under her moaned against her ear, a soft “fuuuccck”.

The man on top fucked cruelly, a steady pounding into and out of her hole, while the rub of jeans against her stockings tore long tracks where the teeth of his lowered zipper scraped her thigh.

It seemed like it went on forever.

Her pussy ached, throbbed, hurt with the relentless thrusting. Her clit, banged relentlessly, quivered. The orgasm, when it hit, was like a tsunami. She stiffened, back arching even in this awkward position, her cunt clenching and grabbing at the pumping rod, slicking her tunnel with hot juice.

“Whore,” he growled at her, his hands mashing her tits, exciting her body to more paroxysms of orgasmic clenching.

His pace slowed, withdrawing as if reluctant to leave the steaming hole, slammed back as if trying to punch her belly with the swollen head of his cock.

He came, buried in her, hot thick gouts filling her as he growled. The man under her shifted, flexed his hips once, twice, and she swore she could feel his cum jet from him, pouring into her bowels.

They pulled from her, cut her wrists free, left her laying on the bed.

The Dentist (2)

this is getting darker than I had originally thought it would be. The muse works in mysterious ways, my pervie friends…. Reader be warned….for here be dragons…~n~

She roused slowly, a feeling of languor in her body, and yawned. She moved to cover her mouth and discovered her hand didn’t work. Blinking, she opened her eyes.

“Dr. Abernathy?” she said, peering at him. He stood between her legs. There was something odd about that. Aside from the fact that he was stroking her thighs, and that her skirt was rucked up around her waist. His hands moved further up her  legs, reaching that junction.

NO, her head yelped, yet she lay there and watched his hand as it disappeared, felt it touching her pussy, roughly exploring her cunt.

“You got fat pussy lips. Like that.” He nodded, and went back to his “exam”.

Now just a minute here, she thought, he was a dentist not an ob-gyn. Had she seen any dental equipment in here? Other than the damned chair, no.

He stepped away, his fingers damp.

“You’re gonna yell. I can always tell the yellers. Room is sound proof, of course, but I can’t stand the sound of you yelping. He opened a drawer away from her sight. She heard the sharp snap of it closing, then his feet as he crossed the room. She looked down at her arms. Thick straps wrapped around her wrists, securing them tightly to the arms of the chair, same as for her ankles.

He stood beside her, and gestured for her to open her mouth. She shook her head, clamped her mouth shut. She wasn’t going to just lay there and be a good little girlie. No no no!

Grabbing her nose, he squeezed firmly. Soon it would be open or pass out. He pressed something that looked like a short, very fat cock against her lips. Pressed hard enough to cut her bottom lip, the sharp tang of blood causing her to open her mouth at last. The gag slid into her mouth. It was not comfortable. Her mouth spread wide to accommodate the girth, while the head of it pushed her tongue to the bottom of her mouth. It was all she could do to stop from gagging on the damned thing. In moments he had it buckled around her head.

“Grumble all you want.” He chuckled to himself as he came back around between her legs. He’d unfastened his fly as he moved, and from his pants jutted the largest cock she’d ever seen on a man. He patted it fondly.

“I’m a bit of a freak, me an’ big Dan,” he said, amused at her wide-eyed stare. “You can be sure it’s gonna hurt some when I fuck you. But you’ll get a nice prize out of the experience in nine months. We’ll have a fun night together. Dan is one tough cock, he’ll fill you up with juice, rest a bit, and be ready to go again in no time. Why, if you’re lucky, he and I will fuck you 7, 8 times before I send you home.”

She tried to speak around the huge thing in her mouth. NO way she could take that cock in her. NO! She did NOT want a baby. She was certain she was in her “fertile time”, but since she didn’t have a boyfriend, she’d gone off the pill months and months ago. Some women had a residual effect, she’d heard. She could only pray it was so for her.

The thick head of his shaft pressed against her pussy, then slowly he pressed into her. It was painful, it was big. She felt stretched, as full as she did after Thanksgiving. There wasn’t enough room, and yet, her cunt stretched and let him in. He withdrew, and she gasped a quick breath through her nose. He was an old man, how long could such a fucking last? Just a few minutes, perhaps.

His strokes were hard and deep. His muscled hips bunched and rolled, fucking into her pussy with a steadiness that made her groan. After a few minutes he picked up the tempo, fucking faster, grinding deeper. There was resistance to that; she yelped every time his giant cock hit her cervix. The pleasure built too, just behind the pain.

That embarrassed her.

She knew it had been a long while since she’d fucked anything except her favorite vibe, but this was..beyond her control. His fingers pinched and caressed her clit, driving her wild. Teeth clamped around the thick rubber dong in her mouth, her eyes closed as she concentrated on her building orgasm.

When she came, it was explosively.

“Good girl! An open cunt is a ready cunt, I always say,” he spoke pedantically, then groaned as her pussy clamped down on his steadily pumping rod.

“Here it cums!” He roared as his cock twitched. Buried deeply inside of her, she swore she felt each thick pulse as he spewed his seeds inside of her.


Her pussy was full of semen, blocked with a thick plug that he’d inserted before releasing her from the chair. He’d fastened a thick chain through an eye bolt at the base, which protruded between her pussylips, then went around her waist like a chastity belt. It was anything but that, she thought bitterly. The anti-chastity belt,  then. He wanted to be sure his swimmers stayed inside her, he’d said, his voice as crisp as when she’d first walked into his office. She was exhausted, unable to fight. Tomorrow she would be called in sick from work, he’d gone on to inform her; his office would handle the details.

He’d tugged her from the chair by a fistful of hair. Her knees shook, but she knew if she fell he’d just drag her along. Down a corridor, another, still with that fucking gag in her mouth. He’d taken her to a small room, strapped her wrists to a leash that was mounted to the headboard, and her legs to the bottom of the bed.

With a push of a button, the mattress began to lift, tilting backwards until her head was dipping down towards the floor, and her feet were raised.

“Won’t be the most comfortable sleep you’ve ever had, girl, but you’ll be fine. I’ll be back later tomorrow to check on you, you just stay here and absorb.” Removing her gag, he didn’t even look at her as he slipped from the room, though she thought she heard the snap of a lock.

His last words came back to her in a rush.

She was to stay in bed and absorb.


This was fucking absurd. What the hell was going on here?


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….


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!”


**a very dark dragon-laden tale…it had to be told**

“Man, that was fuckin’ good.” Troy rolled off the girl, gasping. He rubbed his lower belly gently. His rod was so fucking sensitive after he shot his wad. He glanced at the pussy he’d just violated.

The word gave him a delicious thrill.


Her cunt was red and swollen. A string of cum stretched from her oozing hole to her upper thigh, left by his cock as he’d pulled away and rolled off of her.

His friend Will was pumping into her mouth, held open by some fucking weird gag thing Will had found in his parent’s room. There was the most awesome chest under their bed, full of  sex things. A box of condoms that they just left in there. Rope, which they used to tie her to the bed, and whips to slap her thighs and belly with.  Clampy things that, after some research online had revealed themselves to be nipple clamps.

She’d squeeled like a fuckin’ pig when they’d put those on her rosy nipples; it had made him hard as a fucking steel pole when she’d gone and grunted and bucked.  The duct tape they used at first on her mouth had muffled much of the sound, but eventually all the toys in the box had been identified. The “Spider’ gag was quickly inserted, making her mouth available to fuck without fear of losing their cocks if she tried to bite.

Her nipples were purple under the clamps. He figured he better pull them fuckers off. She rose up, screaching around Wills cock, making him groan.

“Gonna….cummmmmmmm” and suiting action to words, He pressed his groin hard against their new slut’s face. There were gagging sounds coming from under him, then silence. He flopped off of her, and Troy saw her swallowing with some difficulty. Cum streaked her cheek and chin, and a small dribble ran down her neck.

“Man, she’s a fuckin’ mess. We gotta clean her up before we let her go.”

“I don’t have the engergy,” Will gasped, sliding onto the floor. “I fucked her like 5 times.”

“Three, supercock. Three fucks. Ass, pussy, face.  Same as me. Five. You fucking wish.”

“Fine, Mr. Knowitall. YOU fucking clean her up then.”

“no. no fuckin’ way am I gonna. We could throw her in the shower?” His head flopped off the bed, looking over at his buddy, slumped on the side.  There was a scratching at the door.

“Fucking A. Will. Your fucking dog needs to go out. Again. How often does he fucking need to take a piss? His bladder must be the size of a fucking walnut. ”

Will sat, eyes closed, almost dozing off. Wearily, Troy slipped off the bed, and let the dog out. Opening the fridge as he waited for the beast, he snagged a few EnerG drinks, and then saw it.

“Hey, doesn’t Mumford like Cheese wiz?”

Will’s voice came down the hall. “Yeah? so what, mutherfucker? He’s a dog. He eats fucking everything. Last week he ate my shorts. Fucker.” Wills voice mumbled incomprehensibly down into silence.

“You let him eat your tighty-whities? Man, you must fart some delicious dog-food out that fat ass of yours!” Troy guffawed, as he went to let the dog back in.  Mumford started snorting at the can of cheese in Troy’s hand.

“I got an idea. A fucking prime A idea. C’mon Mumford, you fucking shit head dog….”

He squirted a bit of the cheese on his finger, letting the dog lick it off. It was all the encouragement the pooch needed. In seconds, Troy and the 80 pound Great Dane mix were back in the bedroom.

“Sit, Mumford.” Will pointed his finger at the dog.

The dog, staring expectantly at the bottle of Cheeze Wiz, sat, tongue lolling.

“So the idea…no. No fuckin’ way…You fucking perv. Let me get my camera!”

Troy waved the bottle of cheese, giggling a bit as the dog followed its passage, his head moving back, then forth. He slid the bottle between Claire’s legs.

“Open up honeypot, Daddy’s back! You’re gonna have such a fuckin’ good time now…”

Claire moaned, wriggling and trying to move. Tied as she was to the four corners of the bed, she didn’t move more than an inch…and the nozzle of the cheese was pressed inside her cunt anyway. The shocking coldness made her whine around the gag holding her mouth open.

“Filling your cunt up with cheese, slut! Mumford just LOVES CheezeWiz…and with the added flavor of cunt? I think you might have two boyfriends here, now. Hey Will? You gonna be jealous that your dog is gonna tongue-fuck your girlfriend?”

There was a flash of light, as Will took the first picture, one of a red pussy, with a thin line of cheese oozing from it.  The second picture captured the line of cheese around her still-open mouth, like obscene lipstick. She shook her head, but the sticky, almost-plastic substance stuck firmly.  She grunted, bucked, and  tugged.

She was stuck.

Troy called the dog to the bed, leaning across, and applying a line of cheese at her ankle. The dog started lapping. The line continued as Troy trailed the nozzle up her calf, her knee, her thigh. The dog grew more excited, and leapt onto the bed, licking furiously.

She bucked and wriggled, but the dog’s tongue found the source of the cheese, and began eating her pussy voraciously. He lapped and dug into her, slurping and nosing her folds apart for deeper and deeper access.  He licked across her anus, and that sensitive line of flesh that separated ass from cunthole. She bucked now to give him greater access, and soon he was nose deep in her folds. As his tongue rasped over her tender flesh, hitting that sensitive spot at the top of her channel, she arched, head back, as she flooded into an intense orgasm. He kept licking.

She was aching, throbbing as her body came down, yet still the fucking beast lapped at her. The second orgasm slammed into her. Her cunt convulsed, and the dog pressed harder, trying to get deeper. He could taste the tantalizing hint of more cheese…and when her spasming pussy opened, he dove deep, his long fat tongue slurping up her cum, the boys cum, and CheezeWiz.  He licked; she came, until she fainted.

She woke when his tongue swiped across hers. She tasted dog spit, cheese, and cum. No matter how she turned her head, he followed, lapping her lips, her cheeks, the inner walls of her mouth.

She cried out when she felt the nozzle pressing against her pussy.

“Instant replay!” Came Troy’s voice, followed by the click click click of Will’s camera.

“Well have to do this again next weekend, won’t we?” Click, click. “You sure don’t want these pics up on your facebook wall, do you?



it’s not often I have the same dream again, and again, and again, and again. Yet the fucking Cheesewiz bit kept coming to me over and over, much like Claire’s orgasms in the story. I don’t condone forced rape. Not in real life. This is pure fantasy, my pervy pals…after all…we ALL know that cheezewiz isn’t really cheese!   Ergo….fantasy!  ~n~