“Jennifer is quite different than your usual girlfriends,” Ben said.
I took another drink of my beer to keep from smiling. Jennifer and I had skipped our usual night of endless sex to come to a party being thrown by an old college friend of mine. Martin had been pestering me to spend more time with him and Ben. The three of us had been friends forever, but once I changed, I’d found it impossible to hang around them. Seriously, what is the point of being around people, other than to fuck them?
“How is she different?” I asked.
Martin tried to answer. He looked at Jennifer, who was talking to his girlfriend, Valerie, and some woman I didn’t know. Jennifer was wearing a low-cut green dress that pushed her full breasts to even greater mass.
“She is um, much more, uh, what’s the word?”
“Hot,” Ben said.
That time, I did smile. “I’ve had pretty girlfriends before.”
“Yeah,” Martin admitted. “But Jennifer is different.”
I was enjoying this too much. I had avoided Ben and Martin because all they wanted to talk about was politics or reality shows. All I cared about these days were cunts, whimpers and screams. I wanted to see what they could perceive about Jennifer.
“How different?” I asked.
Martin knew what he wanted to say but lacked the courage. He wanted to say she was glowing with sex. He wanted to talk about how perfect her tits were. Martin wanted to say that Jennifer looked like she was made for fucking. He wouldn’t say it, of course. Martin was too civilized, too polite.
“She seems nicer then some of your other girlfriends,” Ben said. “I’m not saying they were bitches or anything, just —“
“They were bitches,” I interrupted. “I realized I fell for women who cared more about themselves than anything else. Jennifer is different.”
“She cares about you,” Martin said.
I took another drink. “She cares about my cock.” I said.
Both of them were rendered speechless. Luckily, Ben’s fiancée, Tina, came up to us just then with a plate of snacks. The subject matter turned to crackers and rare cheeses. The boys wandered away to talk to some other guys about the last episode of “Survivor,” leaving me alone with Tina. I declined the plate. There was not enough meat.
“We haven’t seen you around,” Tina said. Her red hair was down around her face in a nice cascade of curls.
“I have been busy,” I lied. The faint smell of her sex grew stronger. Shit. Other than fear of boredom, my other reason for avoiding my friends was Tina’s attraction to me. I have changed, but I am not enough of a dick to fuck an old friend’s girlfriend. Shit, I really thought their getting engaged would have fixed this problem.
She inched a little closer. I was forced to look down at her face and, not coincidentally, down her blouse. Her freckled tits were just one bite away. I knew she wanted me to bite that spot right inside her cleavage.
“I was getting the feeling you were avoiding me,” she whispered.
My heart pounded. The beast growled. Fuck, I had been fucking Jennifer for three weeks. I thought these kinds of moments were over.
“You’re Ben’s fiancée,” I said.
Across the room, Ben told a joke that had my friends laughing. I looked at them, but Tina only had eyes for me. She bit her lip before answering.
“I know,” she almost whimpered. “But lately, it has just seemed like a shame that we never hooked up.”
The beast has that kind of effect on women. It calls to them. The beast made women forget vows and promises. Until they satisfied that need, the women I chased can be just as insatiable as I am.
I growled. She took a step back, but I followed her. When I was close to her, her cunt exploded in new smells of desire.
“You want to be taken like a whore, don’t you?” I whispered. “You want to be used harder than Ben ever would. Hell, I could bend you over and fuck you while I make you tell me how inferior Ben’s cock is, and you would do it. You would do it and anything else I asked, wouldn’t you?”
God, sometimes I am not sure who is talking anymore. Was that me, or was that the beast? Is there any difference?
Tina was staring at me. Her lips trembled. I thought she was going to cry, but the smell coming from between her legs told me differently.
“Yes, I would,” she said.
More laughter came from the other side of the room. Ben waved us over. “You should hear this story Martin is telling us about his coworker.”
“Sure!” Tina said. “I just need to get more crackers. Dylan, will you come help me?” The pleading in her eyes told me that we would be doing other things in the kitchen.
“No,” I said. I walked past her without looking back. If we went into the kitchen, there was no telling where my cock might go.
I returned to Jennifer’s side. She smiled at me as I slipped my arm around her. Her smile turned into a groan as I grabbed a handful of her ass and squeezed.
“Jennifer was telling us about the IT department where she works,” Martin said. “I bet my company could get their contract easily.”
Christ, is that is what you are hoping to get? I thought Martin should be thinking about how he could take Jennifer back to his bed and use her. Not that I would have let him, mind you. I would have maimed him first. The idea gave me a weird sense of anticipation.
Meanwhile, Tina was masturbating in the kitchen. My enhanced ears could pick up the slick sound of her finger rubbing her wet lips. I could taste her almost-orgasm on the air.
I squeezed Jennifer harder. God damn. It wasn’t even a full moon! I had this craving for another woman and I was fighting it as hard as I could. As much as I mocked how mundane my friends were, I envied their stability. I wanted this to work with Jennifer. I didn’t want to fuck this up.
Martin said something, but I wasn’t listening. I did hear Jennifer’s response, though.
“I am sure a guy as handsome as you, Martin, could sweet-talk my boss into trying your company, “she said.
Martin smiled and I smelled the scent of desire coming from Jennifer. She was flirting with him! Worse, I could smell how much she liked it!
Fuck no.
My grip tightened on her ass. “Have you seen the view from the balcony, Jennifer?”
She winced at my grip. Fear wafted from her. Jennifer knew she had fucked up. “No, I haven’t. Let’s go look.”
Martin was already moving on to entertain other people. I resisted the urge to grab Jennifer by her hair and just kept an iron grip on her ass. We went to the sliding balcony door and pushed it open. I closed it behind us as we looked out at the Atlanta night sky.
“Are you mad?” Jennifer asked.
For some reason, the cold night air was driving me crazier. My hand left her ass and grabbed her throat. She cried out in surprise but groaned as I squeezed.
“You are my bitch,” I said without anger.
“Yes, Dylan,” she moaned. “I only complimented him on his appearance.”
My fingers closed around her throat. “I could smell your pussy when you flirted.”
Her cunt was driving me crazy. My jealousy was bringing all sorts of new desires to the top. Shit, my jealousy was turning me on. Jennifer was mine, but I’d never had a chance to really establish it before. Thoughts of Tina were fading away fast.
“Turn around and lift up your skirt,” I said.
She looked past my shoulder. “They might see us.”
I spun her around. She groaned as I pushed her against the railing. I kicked her legs apart and lifted her skirt. She wasn’t wearing any panties because she had given them to me on the drive over.
“They might,” I said. The balcony light was off, so I had a feeling that the glass sliding door would just reflect the party inside back on itself. As long as no one turned on a light, we were OK. But who fucking knew? I had to have her.
I pulled my cock out. I guided it between her lovely thighs and slipped right in. Jennifer moaned. I shoved myself hard and quick, penetrating her in one swift motion.
“Fuck me, my bitch,” I told her. “The faster you get me off, the less chance we get exposed. The less chance everyone sees you for the slut you are.”
“Yes,” Jennifer groaned. I am not sure if she was agreeing to being a slut or agreeing to move. Either way, she began to move. Bracing herself against the railing, she pushed back against my cock and pulled forward. It was awkward work, but I made her fuck me as we looked out at the Atlanta night.
I reached around and cupped her breasts. My fingers scratched against her exposed cleavage. When my nails dug deep, that is when she really humped my cock.
“Who is my bitch?” I growled in her ear.
“I am,” she whimpered.
Jennifer fucked faster. The wind was cold, but our heat kept us warm. The sounds of the party were behind us, but we ignored them. The threat of someone coming out at any moment was looming. For Jennifer it was a terrifying possibility, but I think I was intrigued by the idea of coming out to my friends as who I truly am: a rutting beast.
“Don’t you fucking dare come first,” I growled.
Jennifer nodded her head in compliance. She was too close to answer with her mouth. She kept moving her body against me. She engaged in a one-sided dance, swaying, humping and grinding against me. I denied her any help as I stood there. I wanted to make her work for it. The beast simply enjoyed her dedication to getting me off.
I climaxed hard. Thoughts of Tina were banished as I emptied into Jennifer once again. Like a good bitch, she held back on her orgasm even though she could feel me filling her.
“Now you can,” I said.
She climaxed instantly. She tossed her head back and opened her mouth. I expected a howl, but her pleasure was silent. She shook from head to toe as her orgasm rippled through her. I almost howled for her.
I pulled out. I could smell my seed trickling down her leg. Like a good slut, she didn’t attempt to pull her skirt back down till I told her to.
“Now, try to remember who owns your cunt,” I said.
Jennifer was beaming. “I will.”
I was sure she would. More important, I was able to rein in the beast and redirect its attention to her. This could work. I could stay with one woman and stop the cycle of endless one-night stands. I could have awesome sex and something close to a normal life again.
We opened the glass door. The party was continuing, and no one appeared suspicious. I was feeling so optimistic that I was going to try to talk to Ben and Martin about any damn thing they wanted to.
The good feeling lasted till Tina came back into the room. Our eyes met, and the smell of her cunt met my nose a second later. The beast mocked my dreams of self-control.
.JPG)
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Crime, Passion and Murder
George Webber is an artist you should know. He makes wonderful cartoonish characters crammed with personality and boobs. He also makes comic books and I recently had the pleasure of enjoying 'Crimes, Passion and Murder'.I read a lot of independent comics mostly because I am sympathetic to anyone trying to make their own stuff. I must admit that a lot of it is crap as most artists have more enthusiasm than experience. 'Crime, Passion and Murder' is the happy exception to the rule. Webber understands how to tell a story, as well as understanding that page breaks and page layouts are what determines pacing of story and jokes. The art is always beautiful, but the artistry in page design is superb.
There are two short stories in this comic book. Both stories are parodies of crime noir fiction. The main characters are the scrappy morose detective and the insanely beautiful naughty Femme Fatale. As short as the stories are, it is hard to preview them without giving the plots away so I will keep mum. I will say that the scene where the murder was witnessed by five nuns was comedy genius.
It clocks in at 24 black and white pages and is priced at 5$. This is a fucking steal if you love crime noir or great art. I also highly recommend any of his other books.
Order the book here.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Still Alive Post Mortem
My fiction blog, 'Still Alive' is wrapped up and I guess technically not still alive because it is dead now. Now that it is finished I want to do an honest evaluation of it with it still fresh in my mind.
The big thing I want to point out is that I was not happy with it when I finished it in December. I felt like it was too slow in places and downright boring in other places. Part of this was deliberate as I felt that boredom would be the biggest threat to anyone's survival. Playing it safe ca keep you alive but how many times can a man play monopoly against himself before he starts letting zombies get within swinging distance for curiosity's sake? It is a case of striving for realism at the cost of being entertaining, and by the time I was finished writing I felt like I had made the wrong choice.
Funny enough, readers disagreed. They found even the most tedious parts interesting because hey, it was still boredom in a zombie apocalypse setting. At one point I realized that I hated my blog because I felt it came a distant second place to the fiction blog in my head. My readers never read this hypothetical better blog that only existed in my head, so they thought what I had was pretty all right.
My other big mistkae was not promoting it more fully. I have plenty of friends in the horror blogging community and they would have happily plugged it if I had just asked them. My own modesty prevented me and that is a real shame. 99% of my web hits came from this site. I am not saying that 'Still Alive' is the greatest horror fiction blog ever but hey, the people who would most enjoy it doesn't know it exists. Next time I will not be so shy.
I had a lot of influences for 'Still Alive' but probably the best advice was something I read an indie role-playing game called Shotgun Diaries. I had been writing for months when I came across this 5$ game that looked like it was designed for my blog. It introduced me to the idea that no matter what you plan, complications will arise. It is such a simple concept but it really helped me finish the story as I went back and gratuitously added extra problems to every element of Jimmy's life. Complications are not some sort of pessimistic world view, as much as it is the acknowledgment that the key theme of zombie fiction is entropy. All things break apart: bodies, society and even plans.
You should buy 'Shotgun Diaries'. Even if you are not a role-player, this is a great writing guide.
t'Sade often mentions that when they did a fiction blog, it went on forever. It just wouldn't die. I certainly felt that way after only three months. It was emotionally depressing to end the story. In my notes, I have an outline from where Jimmy would resume blogging. I toyed with the idea of maybe doing a weekly blog where he updates about the community he finds. I have resisted the idea because I realize that some stories just have to end. Jimmy's story was really about him empowering himself. Once he made the choice to get out of Home Base II, he grew up. I had told the story I wanted to tell. If I kept going, it would be for sentimental reasons. That is a lousy reason to write by the way.
The last thing I want to mention is how happy I was with the logo. Always Aroused Girl designed it for me one morning off an off hand Twitter comment I made. I love the logo and felt it really set the tone I was looking for.
The big thing I want to point out is that I was not happy with it when I finished it in December. I felt like it was too slow in places and downright boring in other places. Part of this was deliberate as I felt that boredom would be the biggest threat to anyone's survival. Playing it safe ca keep you alive but how many times can a man play monopoly against himself before he starts letting zombies get within swinging distance for curiosity's sake? It is a case of striving for realism at the cost of being entertaining, and by the time I was finished writing I felt like I had made the wrong choice.
Funny enough, readers disagreed. They found even the most tedious parts interesting because hey, it was still boredom in a zombie apocalypse setting. At one point I realized that I hated my blog because I felt it came a distant second place to the fiction blog in my head. My readers never read this hypothetical better blog that only existed in my head, so they thought what I had was pretty all right.
My other big mistkae was not promoting it more fully. I have plenty of friends in the horror blogging community and they would have happily plugged it if I had just asked them. My own modesty prevented me and that is a real shame. 99% of my web hits came from this site. I am not saying that 'Still Alive' is the greatest horror fiction blog ever but hey, the people who would most enjoy it doesn't know it exists. Next time I will not be so shy.
I had a lot of influences for 'Still Alive' but probably the best advice was something I read an indie role-playing game called Shotgun Diaries. I had been writing for months when I came across this 5$ game that looked like it was designed for my blog. It introduced me to the idea that no matter what you plan, complications will arise. It is such a simple concept but it really helped me finish the story as I went back and gratuitously added extra problems to every element of Jimmy's life. Complications are not some sort of pessimistic world view, as much as it is the acknowledgment that the key theme of zombie fiction is entropy. All things break apart: bodies, society and even plans.
You should buy 'Shotgun Diaries'. Even if you are not a role-player, this is a great writing guide.
t'Sade often mentions that when they did a fiction blog, it went on forever. It just wouldn't die. I certainly felt that way after only three months. It was emotionally depressing to end the story. In my notes, I have an outline from where Jimmy would resume blogging. I toyed with the idea of maybe doing a weekly blog where he updates about the community he finds. I have resisted the idea because I realize that some stories just have to end. Jimmy's story was really about him empowering himself. Once he made the choice to get out of Home Base II, he grew up. I had told the story I wanted to tell. If I kept going, it would be for sentimental reasons. That is a lousy reason to write by the way.
The last thing I want to mention is how happy I was with the logo. Always Aroused Girl designed it for me one morning off an off hand Twitter comment I made. I love the logo and felt it really set the tone I was looking for.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Fiction: Wolf's Bitch Part Four
The full moon was gone, and Jennifer was still with me. Even stranger, the beast inside me still wanted her. It had been a week and a half of fucking the same woman. I hadn’t thought that such a thing was possible.
I was growing quite fond of her.
In the morning, I wake up first. I roll over and push apart her legs. My face goes to her cunt; it has been calling me all night. I dream her dreams, and she dreams mine. We dream of fucking. By the time morning comes around, I am hard, and she is wet.
My mouth eats her to life. I lick at the juices that have collected all night. I kiss and nibble until her thighs clench around me and she calls out my name. She always comes, but that is not my concern. Her lust is my breakfast.
When I am full, we go to the shower. Jennifer was the one who initiated bathing me, and the beast approves. Her soapy hands scrub my body as I stand against the water. I don’t lift a finger to clean myself. That is what she is for. I am sure it is something she learned from the lifestyle, but I don’t mind. It makes me feel like a king to be attended to.
At some point during the shower, I take her. Sometimes I grip her hand to my cock and have her jerk me off. I explode in a shower of seed onto her wet body. Sometimes I take her mouth. I savagely fuck her face while the water threatens to drown her. Most times, though, I just push her against the wall of the shower and fuck her there. I pin her body until my cock is sated inside her.
Once the beast is pleased, Jennifer cleans me again. What impresses me most is how she manages to clean herself and me at the same time. She lathers up her full breasts when she cleans my hairy chest. She soaps up her legs in between running her hands along my thick thighs. My cock and her cunt get scrubbed at the same time with her hands. She cleans her hair quickly before taking her time massaging my scalp.
We towel each other off. I enjoy the chance to grope her clean body and examine the marks I left the night before. Every new bruise and place where I have bitten her seems to shine with healthy vigor. There are more marks every morning.
Jennifer cooks us breakfast and then she leaves for work. I go to my desk and handle all of the new technical requests from my job. My boss has let me work at home ever since I fucked the shit out of her. It was for the best. I have a hard time getting work done in an office building full of cunts. The apartment is a little better, since most of the women are away for the day. Without a lot of prey around, I can actually accomplish what I need to do to get paid.
I still think of cunt, though. Now it is Jennifer’s cunt I think of and what I plan to do to her next. It is an odd feeling to have a woman more than once. Usually, the beast responds to what women want and I go along for the ride. These days, I have more control. The beast wants cunt and dominance, and I want respect, affection and novelty. We collaborate all day to decide what to do to Jennifer next.
After work, Jennifer goes to her apartment and gets ready. I imagine that is when her roommates express their concerns to her and beg her to spend a night at home. They might pick a movie and try to convince her to join them. It wouldn’t hard to believe that they might even stage an intervention, worried about the abusive boyfriend who leaves such nasty marks on her throat and body.
Jennifer comes back to me every night.
I smell her as she gets closer. I can smell her desire as she runs up the stairs to my apartment. I can close my eyes and hear her heavy breasts jiggle as she runs. I can hear her heart beat faster and faster till she knocks on my door. I can sense her need.
When I open the door, I always yank her into the apartment. Most of the time, I grab her by her long hair, but sometimes, I grab her by her shirt or pants. I am so much more powerful than she is; I can tug her off her feet with one hand. She squeals when I take her in, and when I hear fear in that squeal, my cock throbs twice as hard.
I throw her to the floor and take her. If I am feeling especially creative, I might toss her over the side of the couch or throw her over the breakfast bar. My fingers tear into her clothes and pull them from her body. Jennifer takes so much delight in gift-wrapping herself. Sometimes she wears stockings and a dress, while on other days she tightly binds everything in pants and a thong. No matter. They all coend up on the floor.
When she first gets home, I like to fuck her from behind. My hand pushes her head down as I push my cock into her. Lately, she has struggled more, and I am quick to subdue her. I pull her arm behind her back and force her back down as I fuck. Some nights, I slap her round bottom hard and fast till she surrenders to me. The harder she fights, the louder she ends up moaning when I make her climax.
She has become more feral. She scratches me now. When I get on top of her to fuck her, she digs in her sharp nails and drags them across my back. She bites down on my shoulder and nearly draws blood. When I fuck her from behind, she arches her back and bares her teeth. She slams back into me as hard as I slam into her. Our kisses involve more teeth than tongues.
But she has no beast inside her. When I fuck her, she is my prey. The hunger inside her is to be used and taken. If she has become more savage, it is because she is responding to me in the language I understand. She drinks my seed not because she craves it, but because she loves to be the object of my hunger.
Once the beast has had cunt, we can talk. When she is naked and sweaty from our fucking, I can slow down and actually speak to her. With my cock still inside her, she tells me about her day.
You might think I would be bored to hear her talk about coworkers, traffic and deadlines, but you would be wrong. When she talks, it is a rare glimpse into what normal people do. It reminds me that there is a world out there that doesn’t revolve around cunts and hungry beasts. Jennifer’s talk about work and friends reminds me of what I left behind.
It also makes me damned grateful for what I have now.
Last night, we were sitting together on the couch when she asked me a question.
“Will you ever get tired of me?” she asked.
I reached between her legs. I scratched the prickly skin of her sex. When we first met, it was shaved smooth, but lately, she has been letting the hair grow out. I didn’t order it, but I approve. The more she is like an animal, the better.
“As long as this is waiting for me to take it, I will have it,” I said.
“You sure?” she asked. “You are not going to want to fuck someone else? Someone thinner or someone prettier?”
My fingers scratched at her cunt. Jennifer hissed at the pain, but she made no move to stop me. In fact, she opened her thighs to me.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think so, but you never know. Part of me wants to tell you that I will only fuck you. Part of me wants to assure you that you are the only slut for me. That part of me wants you to feel like the most special woman who could ever be in my life.”
“What about the other part?” she said. Jennifer didn’t name the beast, but I think she was starting to know about him. That was the part of me she loved the most.
“The other part will keep fucking you until he doesn’t,” I said.
“Until then,” Jennifer said.
I nodded and grabbed her hair. She started moving for my cock on her own. My cock slipped into her mouth, and that put an end to her questions for that night.
After we are done talking for the night, Jennifer makes me dinner. Every meal is a different offeringI think she researches recipes while she’s at work. She has figured out that I prefer rare meat and creamy sauces. I wait eagerly outside the kitchen to see what she has created next. I think her meals flatter the beast.
We eat in silence.
Jennifer cleans the table and loads the dishwasher. I stalk the apartment and wait. I know I could fuck here right there over the sink, but then who would do the dishes? Even the beast knows to let the prey do her chores. I wonder around the apartment and try not to give in to the smell of cunt.
When the dishwasher starts running, she is all mine. I come for her. I come running, and I grab her. Most of the time, she just screams and lets me take her. I’ll carry her back to the bedroom and have my way with her.
Sometimes, she runs. Oh God, I love it when she runs. Even if she only makes it six steps, that thrill of chasing her is unbelievable. I stop thinking, and I just act. One time I leaped over the coffee table, and she was so stunned that I immediately caught her.
When I catch her, I fuck her right there on the floor.
If she doesn’t run and I manage to control myself, I drag her back to the bedroom. I will take her mouth or her cunt, or if I am feeling very horny, I will fuck her ass while she kicks and screams.
At this point, I like to fuck her face to face. I want to see her eyes as my cock enters her. I want to watch her breasts bounce with every thrust. I want to be able to put her legs over my shoulders and just thrust down deep. I want her to be able to slap her face or her breasts as I please.
Some nights, I just like to wrap my fingers around that throat and squeeze. Jennifer loves to be choked, and when she is being choked, her pussy changes. The musk grows stronger, and it makes me fuck harder.
Jennifer often climaxes while she is almost out of breath. Her body goes still, and her eyes widen. I watch her open her mouth and no words come out. I don’t stop fucking. The beast refuses to let go of her throat till he comes.
Only when my seed fills her cunt do I release her. Jennifer gasps with such an explosive force that I sometimes get another erection. With my seed still flooding her, I start fucking her all over again.
It is not unusual to climax two or three times before I get tired. I am just as amazed as Jennifer. Not since I first transformed have I been this insatiable. There is something about her that the beast just keeps devouring.
We sleep together. The bed is a mess and stinks of sex, but we sleep deeply. She curls up next to me, and I always have my arm over her. Jennifer is mine, even in sleep.
I don’t know how long this is going to last, but I like it.
Until then.
I was growing quite fond of her.
In the morning, I wake up first. I roll over and push apart her legs. My face goes to her cunt; it has been calling me all night. I dream her dreams, and she dreams mine. We dream of fucking. By the time morning comes around, I am hard, and she is wet.
My mouth eats her to life. I lick at the juices that have collected all night. I kiss and nibble until her thighs clench around me and she calls out my name. She always comes, but that is not my concern. Her lust is my breakfast.
When I am full, we go to the shower. Jennifer was the one who initiated bathing me, and the beast approves. Her soapy hands scrub my body as I stand against the water. I don’t lift a finger to clean myself. That is what she is for. I am sure it is something she learned from the lifestyle, but I don’t mind. It makes me feel like a king to be attended to.
At some point during the shower, I take her. Sometimes I grip her hand to my cock and have her jerk me off. I explode in a shower of seed onto her wet body. Sometimes I take her mouth. I savagely fuck her face while the water threatens to drown her. Most times, though, I just push her against the wall of the shower and fuck her there. I pin her body until my cock is sated inside her.
Once the beast is pleased, Jennifer cleans me again. What impresses me most is how she manages to clean herself and me at the same time. She lathers up her full breasts when she cleans my hairy chest. She soaps up her legs in between running her hands along my thick thighs. My cock and her cunt get scrubbed at the same time with her hands. She cleans her hair quickly before taking her time massaging my scalp.
We towel each other off. I enjoy the chance to grope her clean body and examine the marks I left the night before. Every new bruise and place where I have bitten her seems to shine with healthy vigor. There are more marks every morning.
Jennifer cooks us breakfast and then she leaves for work. I go to my desk and handle all of the new technical requests from my job. My boss has let me work at home ever since I fucked the shit out of her. It was for the best. I have a hard time getting work done in an office building full of cunts. The apartment is a little better, since most of the women are away for the day. Without a lot of prey around, I can actually accomplish what I need to do to get paid.
I still think of cunt, though. Now it is Jennifer’s cunt I think of and what I plan to do to her next. It is an odd feeling to have a woman more than once. Usually, the beast responds to what women want and I go along for the ride. These days, I have more control. The beast wants cunt and dominance, and I want respect, affection and novelty. We collaborate all day to decide what to do to Jennifer next.
After work, Jennifer goes to her apartment and gets ready. I imagine that is when her roommates express their concerns to her and beg her to spend a night at home. They might pick a movie and try to convince her to join them. It wouldn’t hard to believe that they might even stage an intervention, worried about the abusive boyfriend who leaves such nasty marks on her throat and body.
Jennifer comes back to me every night.
I smell her as she gets closer. I can smell her desire as she runs up the stairs to my apartment. I can close my eyes and hear her heavy breasts jiggle as she runs. I can hear her heart beat faster and faster till she knocks on my door. I can sense her need.
When I open the door, I always yank her into the apartment. Most of the time, I grab her by her long hair, but sometimes, I grab her by her shirt or pants. I am so much more powerful than she is; I can tug her off her feet with one hand. She squeals when I take her in, and when I hear fear in that squeal, my cock throbs twice as hard.
I throw her to the floor and take her. If I am feeling especially creative, I might toss her over the side of the couch or throw her over the breakfast bar. My fingers tear into her clothes and pull them from her body. Jennifer takes so much delight in gift-wrapping herself. Sometimes she wears stockings and a dress, while on other days she tightly binds everything in pants and a thong. No matter. They all coend up on the floor.
When she first gets home, I like to fuck her from behind. My hand pushes her head down as I push my cock into her. Lately, she has struggled more, and I am quick to subdue her. I pull her arm behind her back and force her back down as I fuck. Some nights, I slap her round bottom hard and fast till she surrenders to me. The harder she fights, the louder she ends up moaning when I make her climax.
She has become more feral. She scratches me now. When I get on top of her to fuck her, she digs in her sharp nails and drags them across my back. She bites down on my shoulder and nearly draws blood. When I fuck her from behind, she arches her back and bares her teeth. She slams back into me as hard as I slam into her. Our kisses involve more teeth than tongues.
But she has no beast inside her. When I fuck her, she is my prey. The hunger inside her is to be used and taken. If she has become more savage, it is because she is responding to me in the language I understand. She drinks my seed not because she craves it, but because she loves to be the object of my hunger.
Once the beast has had cunt, we can talk. When she is naked and sweaty from our fucking, I can slow down and actually speak to her. With my cock still inside her, she tells me about her day.
You might think I would be bored to hear her talk about coworkers, traffic and deadlines, but you would be wrong. When she talks, it is a rare glimpse into what normal people do. It reminds me that there is a world out there that doesn’t revolve around cunts and hungry beasts. Jennifer’s talk about work and friends reminds me of what I left behind.
It also makes me damned grateful for what I have now.
Last night, we were sitting together on the couch when she asked me a question.
“Will you ever get tired of me?” she asked.
I reached between her legs. I scratched the prickly skin of her sex. When we first met, it was shaved smooth, but lately, she has been letting the hair grow out. I didn’t order it, but I approve. The more she is like an animal, the better.
“As long as this is waiting for me to take it, I will have it,” I said.
“You sure?” she asked. “You are not going to want to fuck someone else? Someone thinner or someone prettier?”
My fingers scratched at her cunt. Jennifer hissed at the pain, but she made no move to stop me. In fact, she opened her thighs to me.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think so, but you never know. Part of me wants to tell you that I will only fuck you. Part of me wants to assure you that you are the only slut for me. That part of me wants you to feel like the most special woman who could ever be in my life.”
“What about the other part?” she said. Jennifer didn’t name the beast, but I think she was starting to know about him. That was the part of me she loved the most.
“The other part will keep fucking you until he doesn’t,” I said.
“Until then,” Jennifer said.
I nodded and grabbed her hair. She started moving for my cock on her own. My cock slipped into her mouth, and that put an end to her questions for that night.
After we are done talking for the night, Jennifer makes me dinner. Every meal is a different offeringI think she researches recipes while she’s at work. She has figured out that I prefer rare meat and creamy sauces. I wait eagerly outside the kitchen to see what she has created next. I think her meals flatter the beast.
We eat in silence.
Jennifer cleans the table and loads the dishwasher. I stalk the apartment and wait. I know I could fuck here right there over the sink, but then who would do the dishes? Even the beast knows to let the prey do her chores. I wonder around the apartment and try not to give in to the smell of cunt.
When the dishwasher starts running, she is all mine. I come for her. I come running, and I grab her. Most of the time, she just screams and lets me take her. I’ll carry her back to the bedroom and have my way with her.
Sometimes, she runs. Oh God, I love it when she runs. Even if she only makes it six steps, that thrill of chasing her is unbelievable. I stop thinking, and I just act. One time I leaped over the coffee table, and she was so stunned that I immediately caught her.
When I catch her, I fuck her right there on the floor.
If she doesn’t run and I manage to control myself, I drag her back to the bedroom. I will take her mouth or her cunt, or if I am feeling very horny, I will fuck her ass while she kicks and screams.
At this point, I like to fuck her face to face. I want to see her eyes as my cock enters her. I want to watch her breasts bounce with every thrust. I want to be able to put her legs over my shoulders and just thrust down deep. I want her to be able to slap her face or her breasts as I please.
Some nights, I just like to wrap my fingers around that throat and squeeze. Jennifer loves to be choked, and when she is being choked, her pussy changes. The musk grows stronger, and it makes me fuck harder.
Jennifer often climaxes while she is almost out of breath. Her body goes still, and her eyes widen. I watch her open her mouth and no words come out. I don’t stop fucking. The beast refuses to let go of her throat till he comes.
Only when my seed fills her cunt do I release her. Jennifer gasps with such an explosive force that I sometimes get another erection. With my seed still flooding her, I start fucking her all over again.
It is not unusual to climax two or three times before I get tired. I am just as amazed as Jennifer. Not since I first transformed have I been this insatiable. There is something about her that the beast just keeps devouring.
We sleep together. The bed is a mess and stinks of sex, but we sleep deeply. She curls up next to me, and I always have my arm over her. Jennifer is mine, even in sleep.
I don’t know how long this is going to last, but I like it.
Until then.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Every Day
My mornings are often spent in a daze. I take a lot of medications to regulate my heart and my thyroid and the result is that my mornings are like hallucinations until my brain chemistry comes back on line. Today was no different.
I was in the shower trying to organize my day. There are things I have to do for work but they don't count. I was more concerned with important things. Things like writing, blogging, becoming a better sniper in Team Fortress, make up a schedule for more book publishing, bidding on some Call of Cthulhu source books and other important things.
I am a big believer in doing things every day. It is important in exercising to devolp muscle memory. I think it is just as important creatively to apply yourself every day so that you have creative memory. I think the brain has to be trained to produce content.
In my over dramatic mind, I liken myself to a Zen martial arts master. Instead of pounding my hands into sand, I type sex acts on a Word document. I'm a writer so I must write. I am a gamer so I must practice my games. I am a creative person so I must create.
I make a list in my head. An hour of writing. An hour of shooting computer targets. First though, I have another task to do.
I get out of the shower and dry off. I walk into the bedroom and my wife rolls over. Waking up is hard for her too.
I pulled the covers off of her and roll her onto her side. her lovely brown butt peeks out from the sides of her rainbow panties. She is already giggling with anticipation.
I spank her. Not hard because it is the morning after all. Light taps cup her buttocks as I switch from side to side. Two taps here, three taps there as I build my rhythm.
She whines over dramatically. Her insincere protests make me smile. She struggles a bit and I have to focus more to hit her ass the way I want to. That's okay. Struggling is what she does every day.
Some things are easier to do every day than others.
I was in the shower trying to organize my day. There are things I have to do for work but they don't count. I was more concerned with important things. Things like writing, blogging, becoming a better sniper in Team Fortress, make up a schedule for more book publishing, bidding on some Call of Cthulhu source books and other important things.
I am a big believer in doing things every day. It is important in exercising to devolp muscle memory. I think it is just as important creatively to apply yourself every day so that you have creative memory. I think the brain has to be trained to produce content.
In my over dramatic mind, I liken myself to a Zen martial arts master. Instead of pounding my hands into sand, I type sex acts on a Word document. I'm a writer so I must write. I am a gamer so I must practice my games. I am a creative person so I must create.
I make a list in my head. An hour of writing. An hour of shooting computer targets. First though, I have another task to do.
I get out of the shower and dry off. I walk into the bedroom and my wife rolls over. Waking up is hard for her too.
I pulled the covers off of her and roll her onto her side. her lovely brown butt peeks out from the sides of her rainbow panties. She is already giggling with anticipation.
I spank her. Not hard because it is the morning after all. Light taps cup her buttocks as I switch from side to side. Two taps here, three taps there as I build my rhythm.
She whines over dramatically. Her insincere protests make me smile. She struggles a bit and I have to focus more to hit her ass the way I want to. That's okay. Struggling is what she does every day.
Some things are easier to do every day than others.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Failure, Rebirth and Writing
My fiction blog, 'Still Alive' will be ending soon. It has been a wonderful experience. It is my first major non-erotica work and over all I think it is a success. I think it could be better, but as a first time thing, it is not too bad.
My goal was to do another fiction blog with an erotica theme. The plan was to set it on a space station where everyone is having sex until something bad happens. I have been in love with the idea for over a year but the actual story is problematic. I have an outline but after a year of kicking it around, I find myself unable to really connect some events in the outline to others.
Which brings me to the one pearl of wisdom I want to give fellow writers. Ideas are fine, but the execution is EVERYTHING. if you can't turn ideas into a story, the idea alone can't carry the story.
I have spent the last week grieving over my lost story idea. Luckily I have the mild success of 'Still Alive' to bolster me. I want to do another fiction blog because I find it an interesting format for telling a story. Fictional characters have far more interesting lives than real people, which generates enough content to justify a blog.
So I started kicking around ideas for another fiction blog. My intent would be for a short three month period to cover. I just needed some other situation, like zombies eating Atlanta, to be the theme for the blog. I started cataloging disasters.
My wife and I try to watch at least one show together every night before I go write and she draws. With most of our shows on hiatus, we turned to our DVD collections and pick a show to watch. We had been watching a lot of Nero Wolfe and I wanted a change of pace. I love mysteries but I like supernatural mysteries a smidge more. I like the idea of having to consider everything from haunted puppets to werewolves as a suspect.
This week we watched 'Kolchak: The Night Stalker'. It was a television series in 1974 starring Darren McGavin as a crusty old newspaper reporter who keeps investigating mundane crimes only to find out that witches and monsters are involved. It is one of my favorite series ever.
Last night I was telling my wife about how I wanted to do another fiction blog, but I had no idea what to do. About five minutes into the conversation, we both mentioned Kolchak as an obvious idea. Duh. Kolchak worked for a small independent news service, but a modern day character could be a blogger who did investigating part time in addition to his day job.
It has been snowballing in my head ever since. The blog could be intermittent. The fictional blogger could investigate one mysterious occurrence, burn out and quit blogging for a few months. Then as he discovers another mystery, he could return to the blog to document it. Instead of a monster a week, it may only be three strange mysteries a year.
Instead of trying to come up with a project as a one time thing, I have come up with something that can go on indefinitely. Or something I can quit easily if get too burned out on it.
It would also be a major non-erotica undertaking. I don't see myself quitting erotica but I have to admit that I am itching to write more horror. I think the sadist in me just enjoys inflicting horror on characters too much. It may cut down on my erotica writing but hopefully the erotica I will be writing will be of a higher quality.
I have a feeling this year is going to be very interesting.
My goal was to do another fiction blog with an erotica theme. The plan was to set it on a space station where everyone is having sex until something bad happens. I have been in love with the idea for over a year but the actual story is problematic. I have an outline but after a year of kicking it around, I find myself unable to really connect some events in the outline to others.
Which brings me to the one pearl of wisdom I want to give fellow writers. Ideas are fine, but the execution is EVERYTHING. if you can't turn ideas into a story, the idea alone can't carry the story.
I have spent the last week grieving over my lost story idea. Luckily I have the mild success of 'Still Alive' to bolster me. I want to do another fiction blog because I find it an interesting format for telling a story. Fictional characters have far more interesting lives than real people, which generates enough content to justify a blog.
So I started kicking around ideas for another fiction blog. My intent would be for a short three month period to cover. I just needed some other situation, like zombies eating Atlanta, to be the theme for the blog. I started cataloging disasters.
My wife and I try to watch at least one show together every night before I go write and she draws. With most of our shows on hiatus, we turned to our DVD collections and pick a show to watch. We had been watching a lot of Nero Wolfe and I wanted a change of pace. I love mysteries but I like supernatural mysteries a smidge more. I like the idea of having to consider everything from haunted puppets to werewolves as a suspect.
This week we watched 'Kolchak: The Night Stalker'. It was a television series in 1974 starring Darren McGavin as a crusty old newspaper reporter who keeps investigating mundane crimes only to find out that witches and monsters are involved. It is one of my favorite series ever.
Last night I was telling my wife about how I wanted to do another fiction blog, but I had no idea what to do. About five minutes into the conversation, we both mentioned Kolchak as an obvious idea. Duh. Kolchak worked for a small independent news service, but a modern day character could be a blogger who did investigating part time in addition to his day job.
It has been snowballing in my head ever since. The blog could be intermittent. The fictional blogger could investigate one mysterious occurrence, burn out and quit blogging for a few months. Then as he discovers another mystery, he could return to the blog to document it. Instead of a monster a week, it may only be three strange mysteries a year.
Instead of trying to come up with a project as a one time thing, I have come up with something that can go on indefinitely. Or something I can quit easily if get too burned out on it.
It would also be a major non-erotica undertaking. I don't see myself quitting erotica but I have to admit that I am itching to write more horror. I think the sadist in me just enjoys inflicting horror on characters too much. It may cut down on my erotica writing but hopefully the erotica I will be writing will be of a higher quality.
I have a feeling this year is going to be very interesting.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Fiction: Wolf's Bitch Part Three
Jennifer made me lunch. She insisted. When I told her that all I wanted was a rare hamburger, she didn’t even blink. The well-fucked slut went into my kitchen and went to work. She was naked, of course. I hadn’t allowed her to put her clothes back on.
I sat at the breakfast bar and watched her. She was beautiful, yes, but what fascinated me was that she was still here. There was no fear or disgust. In fact, she was working very hard to impress me. Jennifer wanted to stay. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around that.
“When did you first learn of the lifestyle?” Jennifer asked. She was forming patties with her hands. Watching her knead the raw meat was turning me on.
I snorted at her question. “The lifestyle” is what people call bondage and sexual domination. There are books. There are clubs, protocols, support groups and Web sites. It is very civilized.
“I learned of it the first time I dominated a woman and she assumed I was in the lifestyle,” I told her. “She told me her safeword and asked what group I belonged to. That was the first time I realized that there was a community.”
Jennifer nodded. “I used to go to a group that meets on the north side of town, but I stopped going. Have you ever gone?”
I laughed. “Once. I was curious, and I went to a club. They cheerfully explained to me how I needed to respect the rules of the club, how I was to approach people and how people were not there to get fucked but to learn and explore themselves.”
Jennifer smiled. “I take it you didn’t like it?”
“I found one woman who met my needs. I grabbed her and took her home to fuck. She had a good time, but the next day I received an email from her dominant about how I had broken the rules.”
“What did you do?” she asked. The way she kneaded the hamburger was making her breasts jiggle in wonderful ways.
“I realized I needed to stop giving my e-mail when I fill out the dungeon form,” I said. “I also didn’t go back. They were not like me.”
Jennifer washed her hands and then heated up the frying pan. She got out some spices, including a few I wouldn’t have thought to put on a hamburger. I liked the focus in her eyes. Only when she had selected the spices did she resume talking.
“What do you mean, they were not like you?” she asked. “You are like no dom I have ever met, but I am curious what you mean.”
I thought back to that night at the dungeon. “I can tell what people want,” I said. “I am not bragging, it is just the truth. Women like you, you want to be taken. You want to be hurt and fucked and you want a little danger. You want to be prey. Those people at the dungeon, they weren’t that simple. Some of them wanted order and rules. Some of them wanted to be envied and admired. Some of them just wanted to be told how awesome they were. No single word could describe all of them because they were all there for different reasons.”
“Why did you go?” Jennifer asked. She put the first patty in the pan. The loud sizzle was music to my ears.
“I came to fuck,” I said. “I came to find someone who needed my cock. I came to conquer a new woman. That is all I ever want.”
“Do they have to always be new?” Jennifer asked. She said it casually, but I could hear her heart beat faster. I knew the answer she wanted. Because she was cooking my meal instead of running away, I gave it to her.
“Not if they are special enough,” I said.
She blushed. The beast in me relished the sight.
I got up and walked over to her. Jennifer smiled but looked down at the frying meat.
“I should pay attention to the food,” she said.
“Yes, you’d better,” I said. I stepped behind her and reached around. I cupped her breasts and pulled her to me. My cock pressed against her ass. She clenched as she remembered me entering it last night. My fingers tightened around those lovely breasts and did cruel things to her nipples.
“Watch the food,” I growled in her ear.
She moaned in response. I bit down on her shoulder. She hissed as my teeth clamped down. Her knees buckled a little, but my powerful hands kept her standing. The meat sizzled loudly but not as loudly as Jennifer moaned. My mouth claimed her shoulder with pain and teeth marks.
I released her in time for her to get my hamburgers onto the bun. No condiments, but Jennifer added some lettuce to the bottom of the bun to catch any grease. It was a nice touch.
As a reward, I let her suck my cock as I ate. The spiced hamburger was delicious. My seed down her throat was her lunch.
“I should go home,” she said as she wiped the drool from her mouth. “My roommates will be worried about me. I also have a presentation I should be working on for work.”
My stomach was full, and my cock was drained. My appetites had been sated. “I understand,” I said. “Let me give you my number. We can get together for dinner Sunday.”
Jennifer smiled. “I’ll give you mine, too.”
It felt strange to be exchanging phone numbers like a normal person again. I wanted her to go just so I would have the novelty of her coming back. That is the only reason I let her gather her clothes and get dressed again.
I wouldn’t let her take her bra. That was mine.
I walked her to her car. Her breasts bounced freely within her shirt and coat. So many women had walked down these steps, but Jennifer was the first to not have to do it alone. I doubt that she understood how special that made her.
We kissed before she got in the car. My hand went to her ass, and I squeezed it blatantly in the parking lot. When I had stolen her breath again, I broke the kiss.
“See you Sunday,” I said.
“Yes,” she said. Such a simple word and yet it thrilled me in such a strange way.
I went back to my apartment. I did the dishes and washed the sheets. Since the change had come over me, I felt little need for entertainments. I used to read and watch movies. They feel lifeless to me now. These days, I sit by the window and enjoy the air. There are 100 smells on the wind, and although not all of them are sexual, enough of them are to amuse me.
Today, I smelled a woman who wished to be locked in a cage. I wondered how Jennifer would look inside a cage. I imagined she would hate it, which made my cock throb.
For an hour, I enjoyed the scent of a woman who wished to be forced to masturbate for a man. It was such an easy desire, but the force with which she desired it was amazing. She thought masturbating was a filthy act and wanted so badly to do it for an audience. I resolved to make Jennifer masturbate for me some time soon.
The scent faded and was replaced by that of an older woman who lusted for her nephew. Not only did she desire forbidden lust, but she wanted the teenager to blackmail her into it. She wanted him to take pictures of her while she sucked his cock. It was a brief desire quickly extinguished by a powerful orgasm. It made me wonder if Jennifer had a camera.
I was getting annoyed with myself. My thoughts kept coming back to Jennifer. I missed her. It had been so long since I had been in any sort of relationship that I had forgotten the annoyance of separation.
It must be the moon. I resolved to go down to the mall and people-watch. Just watching the secret sluts walk by was better than any movie. Plus, I could always find a new prey and fuck the shit out of her. I had made no commitments.
Ah, but the twinge in my stomach told me differently. I felt something very odd. It was guilt. Jennifer might be upset. The beast in me growled. I belonged to no one. I closed my eyes and listened to the howling monster inside me. It felt no guilt, and neither should I.
I went downstairs to my car. As I passed the spot where Jennifer had parked, I smelled her. The odor of her cunt was as strong as if I had just eaten her.
It stayed with me as I got in my car. I rolled the windows down. My power of smell had never been this strong before. I thought I’d known all of my abilities. My endurance, my strength and my effect on women were things I took for granted now. This level of tracking was new. I had to push it.
I followed the scent as best I could in the car. It made no sense. The diesel, the litter and the stench of the tires should have obscured Jennifer’s scent, but I could follow as if she were opening her thighs right next to me. I followed it down the street from the grocery store and into a neighborhood I had never been to. The scent took me to an apartment complex. I parked my car right beside hers.
My cock was hard. The idea of finding new prey was ridiculous. Jennifer was here, and I wanted her.
I followed her smell right to her apartment door. A Hispanic woman answered the door. Although she was very beautiful, there was no scent to her at all. To me, she might as well have been an old maid.
“Hello, is Jennifer here?” I asked.
The woman frowned. “You must be Dylan. She has been telling us all about you. I didn’t think she was expecting you.”
I forced a smile. This woman was standing between me and my cunt. She had no idea how dangerous that was.
“I thought I would surprise her,” I said. “May I come in?”
The poor woman had doubt. I could see it in her eyes. The smarter side of her brain was telling her to shut the door and lock it.
“Sure, “she said, and she stepped aside.
A tall woman was sitting on the couch. She was thin and just as dead to me scentwise as the Hispanic woman had been. Her eyes took me in and saw something that they liked.
“You must be Dylan,” the tall woman said. “My name is Pam. You’ve met Nina already.”
I nodded. My smile felt so fake, but I kept it on. “I’m glad Jennifer mentioned me or else this might have been even more awkward.”
Pam laughed, but Nina didn’t. I instantly had more respect for Nina.
“It is not every Friday that Jennifer spends the night somewhere else,” Pam said. “We were worried us till she texted us last night.”
I wondered when that had been. Perhaps when she begged to go to the bathroom? I guess I shouldn’t be annoyed, but the beast was. He loved control, and he was annoyed that she hadn’t asked first.
“Is she here?” I asked. “I think she left her lipstick at my place.”
Pam laughed. “And you came all this way just to return it? How sweet of you.” She was practically leering at me.
“I’ll get her,” Nina said. She headed down a long hallway. Three-bedroom apartments could be quite spacious.
“Come sit down,” Pam said. She was motioning to the couch beside her. It was interesting; she was obviously attracted to me, but I couldn’t smell her. I wondered what her tastes were like. I realized I didn’t give a fuck.
“I’ll stand,” I said.
Nina walked in, still frowning. I didn’t care because Jennifer was right behind her. Her hair was wet, and she smelled freshly showered. She was glowing when she hugged me.
“What are you doing here?” she said. I noticed she skipped the question of how I’d found her. Good girl.
“I had a question for you,” I said. “Can we talk in private?”
“Sure, come to my room,” she said.
Nina scowled at me as I walked away with Jennifer. Pam shouted her joke.
“Be sure to behave, kids!” she teased.
Jennifer blushed, but I didn’t care. I closed the door behind us and grabbed her throat. It felt good to have my hand around her neck again.
“Ohh,” she moaned. “I am so glad to see you. I have missed you.”
The beast didn’t care, but I was touched. “I missed you,” I said.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
With my other hand, I reached between her legs. I pressed through the sweatpants she was wearing and cupped her sex. The heat warmed me.
“I followed this,” I said. “Your cunt called to me, and I have come to answer it.”
Jennifer moaned. “Not here, please. Not with Nina and Pam here. Let’s go back to your place.”
The beast raged in defiance. I agreed.
“Right now,” I said. I pushed her down to her bed. “Take off your clothes.”
Jennifer looked at me for a second before she started to disrobe. In moments, she had stripped off her shirt, her bra, her sweatpants and her panties. She was fast, but she was also quiet. I was impressed. Too bad I had no such concerns about the noise.
I grabbed her legs and flipped her over. She squealed briefly before controlling herself. I pulled her legs until her ass was hanging over the bed. She stayed still as I unzipped and let my pants fall. Cock in hand, I entered her.
Jennifer groaned as my cock returned to its rightful place. She grabbed her sheets as I pushed forcefully into her. Her tight ass clenched as slammed in my cock. I was glad to see that her cunt was just as wet as I had smelled.
We fucked. To be more accurate, I fucked her. The bed shook with the force of our fornicating. Jennifer was dead quiet, but the bedsprings were giving us away.
Her silence annoyed me. I slapped her ass while I fucked her. These were not the thoughtful taps I had seen at the dungeon either; these were the hard slaps of my big hands hitting her round ass. My hand fell on her with the righteous fury of a man claiming his woman.
The first slap caught her by surprise, and Jennifer cried out. By the third slap, she was biting down on her sheet to keep from crying out. It didn’t matter. The sound of her ass getting spanked echoed through the room and, I suspected, through the apartment as well.
The sounds of fucking, spanking and creaking bedsprings filled the bedroom. Jennifer was doing a good job of keeping quiet, but the sounds of sex were all around us. I knew she was horrified by the idea. Nina and Pam would know that I came over purely to fuck her. She was humiliated.
She was also incredibly wet. Jennifer climaxed once and then quickly again as I pounded her cunt. I stopped slapping her ass and reached for her long brown hair. My hand pulled her head back and forced her to arch her back as I thrust. The sweet sound of her whimpering added to the mix.
I came. I felt the muscles of her cunt milk my seed from my body. I wiped the sweat from my face and wiped my hand on her ass.
“Good slut,” I said as I pulled out.
Jennifer found the strength to turn over. “Thank you,” she said. I am not sure if she meant for the compliment or for the fucking. “Will you be staying?”
The beast was silent. I was actually intrigued by the idea. What would it be like to hang out with her friends? If Nina had hated me before, she was going to hate my guts now.
“No,” I said. It seemed too normal to consider. I almost didn’t want to push my luck.
“No,” I said again. “I’ll be by to pick you up on Sunday.”
Jennifer looked up me. Her cunt smelled of sex and my seed. “I can’t wait.”
I reached down and scooped up the panties she had been wearing. No matter what else was happening, I was going to keep collecting my trophies.
“Get dressed,” I told her. “I want to you to see me to the door.”
The smile that blossomed on her face was amazing. For some reason, it made me sad. Perhaps I knew that this giddiness could not possibly last.
I sat at the breakfast bar and watched her. She was beautiful, yes, but what fascinated me was that she was still here. There was no fear or disgust. In fact, she was working very hard to impress me. Jennifer wanted to stay. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around that.
“When did you first learn of the lifestyle?” Jennifer asked. She was forming patties with her hands. Watching her knead the raw meat was turning me on.
I snorted at her question. “The lifestyle” is what people call bondage and sexual domination. There are books. There are clubs, protocols, support groups and Web sites. It is very civilized.
“I learned of it the first time I dominated a woman and she assumed I was in the lifestyle,” I told her. “She told me her safeword and asked what group I belonged to. That was the first time I realized that there was a community.”
Jennifer nodded. “I used to go to a group that meets on the north side of town, but I stopped going. Have you ever gone?”
I laughed. “Once. I was curious, and I went to a club. They cheerfully explained to me how I needed to respect the rules of the club, how I was to approach people and how people were not there to get fucked but to learn and explore themselves.”
Jennifer smiled. “I take it you didn’t like it?”
“I found one woman who met my needs. I grabbed her and took her home to fuck. She had a good time, but the next day I received an email from her dominant about how I had broken the rules.”
“What did you do?” she asked. The way she kneaded the hamburger was making her breasts jiggle in wonderful ways.
“I realized I needed to stop giving my e-mail when I fill out the dungeon form,” I said. “I also didn’t go back. They were not like me.”
Jennifer washed her hands and then heated up the frying pan. She got out some spices, including a few I wouldn’t have thought to put on a hamburger. I liked the focus in her eyes. Only when she had selected the spices did she resume talking.
“What do you mean, they were not like you?” she asked. “You are like no dom I have ever met, but I am curious what you mean.”
I thought back to that night at the dungeon. “I can tell what people want,” I said. “I am not bragging, it is just the truth. Women like you, you want to be taken. You want to be hurt and fucked and you want a little danger. You want to be prey. Those people at the dungeon, they weren’t that simple. Some of them wanted order and rules. Some of them wanted to be envied and admired. Some of them just wanted to be told how awesome they were. No single word could describe all of them because they were all there for different reasons.”
“Why did you go?” Jennifer asked. She put the first patty in the pan. The loud sizzle was music to my ears.
“I came to fuck,” I said. “I came to find someone who needed my cock. I came to conquer a new woman. That is all I ever want.”
“Do they have to always be new?” Jennifer asked. She said it casually, but I could hear her heart beat faster. I knew the answer she wanted. Because she was cooking my meal instead of running away, I gave it to her.
“Not if they are special enough,” I said.
She blushed. The beast in me relished the sight.
I got up and walked over to her. Jennifer smiled but looked down at the frying meat.
“I should pay attention to the food,” she said.
“Yes, you’d better,” I said. I stepped behind her and reached around. I cupped her breasts and pulled her to me. My cock pressed against her ass. She clenched as she remembered me entering it last night. My fingers tightened around those lovely breasts and did cruel things to her nipples.
“Watch the food,” I growled in her ear.
She moaned in response. I bit down on her shoulder. She hissed as my teeth clamped down. Her knees buckled a little, but my powerful hands kept her standing. The meat sizzled loudly but not as loudly as Jennifer moaned. My mouth claimed her shoulder with pain and teeth marks.
I released her in time for her to get my hamburgers onto the bun. No condiments, but Jennifer added some lettuce to the bottom of the bun to catch any grease. It was a nice touch.
As a reward, I let her suck my cock as I ate. The spiced hamburger was delicious. My seed down her throat was her lunch.
“I should go home,” she said as she wiped the drool from her mouth. “My roommates will be worried about me. I also have a presentation I should be working on for work.”
My stomach was full, and my cock was drained. My appetites had been sated. “I understand,” I said. “Let me give you my number. We can get together for dinner Sunday.”
Jennifer smiled. “I’ll give you mine, too.”
It felt strange to be exchanging phone numbers like a normal person again. I wanted her to go just so I would have the novelty of her coming back. That is the only reason I let her gather her clothes and get dressed again.
I wouldn’t let her take her bra. That was mine.
I walked her to her car. Her breasts bounced freely within her shirt and coat. So many women had walked down these steps, but Jennifer was the first to not have to do it alone. I doubt that she understood how special that made her.
We kissed before she got in the car. My hand went to her ass, and I squeezed it blatantly in the parking lot. When I had stolen her breath again, I broke the kiss.
“See you Sunday,” I said.
“Yes,” she said. Such a simple word and yet it thrilled me in such a strange way.
I went back to my apartment. I did the dishes and washed the sheets. Since the change had come over me, I felt little need for entertainments. I used to read and watch movies. They feel lifeless to me now. These days, I sit by the window and enjoy the air. There are 100 smells on the wind, and although not all of them are sexual, enough of them are to amuse me.
Today, I smelled a woman who wished to be locked in a cage. I wondered how Jennifer would look inside a cage. I imagined she would hate it, which made my cock throb.
For an hour, I enjoyed the scent of a woman who wished to be forced to masturbate for a man. It was such an easy desire, but the force with which she desired it was amazing. She thought masturbating was a filthy act and wanted so badly to do it for an audience. I resolved to make Jennifer masturbate for me some time soon.
The scent faded and was replaced by that of an older woman who lusted for her nephew. Not only did she desire forbidden lust, but she wanted the teenager to blackmail her into it. She wanted him to take pictures of her while she sucked his cock. It was a brief desire quickly extinguished by a powerful orgasm. It made me wonder if Jennifer had a camera.
I was getting annoyed with myself. My thoughts kept coming back to Jennifer. I missed her. It had been so long since I had been in any sort of relationship that I had forgotten the annoyance of separation.
It must be the moon. I resolved to go down to the mall and people-watch. Just watching the secret sluts walk by was better than any movie. Plus, I could always find a new prey and fuck the shit out of her. I had made no commitments.
Ah, but the twinge in my stomach told me differently. I felt something very odd. It was guilt. Jennifer might be upset. The beast in me growled. I belonged to no one. I closed my eyes and listened to the howling monster inside me. It felt no guilt, and neither should I.
I went downstairs to my car. As I passed the spot where Jennifer had parked, I smelled her. The odor of her cunt was as strong as if I had just eaten her.
It stayed with me as I got in my car. I rolled the windows down. My power of smell had never been this strong before. I thought I’d known all of my abilities. My endurance, my strength and my effect on women were things I took for granted now. This level of tracking was new. I had to push it.
I followed the scent as best I could in the car. It made no sense. The diesel, the litter and the stench of the tires should have obscured Jennifer’s scent, but I could follow as if she were opening her thighs right next to me. I followed it down the street from the grocery store and into a neighborhood I had never been to. The scent took me to an apartment complex. I parked my car right beside hers.
My cock was hard. The idea of finding new prey was ridiculous. Jennifer was here, and I wanted her.
I followed her smell right to her apartment door. A Hispanic woman answered the door. Although she was very beautiful, there was no scent to her at all. To me, she might as well have been an old maid.
“Hello, is Jennifer here?” I asked.
The woman frowned. “You must be Dylan. She has been telling us all about you. I didn’t think she was expecting you.”
I forced a smile. This woman was standing between me and my cunt. She had no idea how dangerous that was.
“I thought I would surprise her,” I said. “May I come in?”
The poor woman had doubt. I could see it in her eyes. The smarter side of her brain was telling her to shut the door and lock it.
“Sure, “she said, and she stepped aside.
A tall woman was sitting on the couch. She was thin and just as dead to me scentwise as the Hispanic woman had been. Her eyes took me in and saw something that they liked.
“You must be Dylan,” the tall woman said. “My name is Pam. You’ve met Nina already.”
I nodded. My smile felt so fake, but I kept it on. “I’m glad Jennifer mentioned me or else this might have been even more awkward.”
Pam laughed, but Nina didn’t. I instantly had more respect for Nina.
“It is not every Friday that Jennifer spends the night somewhere else,” Pam said. “We were worried us till she texted us last night.”
I wondered when that had been. Perhaps when she begged to go to the bathroom? I guess I shouldn’t be annoyed, but the beast was. He loved control, and he was annoyed that she hadn’t asked first.
“Is she here?” I asked. “I think she left her lipstick at my place.”
Pam laughed. “And you came all this way just to return it? How sweet of you.” She was practically leering at me.
“I’ll get her,” Nina said. She headed down a long hallway. Three-bedroom apartments could be quite spacious.
“Come sit down,” Pam said. She was motioning to the couch beside her. It was interesting; she was obviously attracted to me, but I couldn’t smell her. I wondered what her tastes were like. I realized I didn’t give a fuck.
“I’ll stand,” I said.
Nina walked in, still frowning. I didn’t care because Jennifer was right behind her. Her hair was wet, and she smelled freshly showered. She was glowing when she hugged me.
“What are you doing here?” she said. I noticed she skipped the question of how I’d found her. Good girl.
“I had a question for you,” I said. “Can we talk in private?”
“Sure, come to my room,” she said.
Nina scowled at me as I walked away with Jennifer. Pam shouted her joke.
“Be sure to behave, kids!” she teased.
Jennifer blushed, but I didn’t care. I closed the door behind us and grabbed her throat. It felt good to have my hand around her neck again.
“Ohh,” she moaned. “I am so glad to see you. I have missed you.”
The beast didn’t care, but I was touched. “I missed you,” I said.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
With my other hand, I reached between her legs. I pressed through the sweatpants she was wearing and cupped her sex. The heat warmed me.
“I followed this,” I said. “Your cunt called to me, and I have come to answer it.”
Jennifer moaned. “Not here, please. Not with Nina and Pam here. Let’s go back to your place.”
The beast raged in defiance. I agreed.
“Right now,” I said. I pushed her down to her bed. “Take off your clothes.”
Jennifer looked at me for a second before she started to disrobe. In moments, she had stripped off her shirt, her bra, her sweatpants and her panties. She was fast, but she was also quiet. I was impressed. Too bad I had no such concerns about the noise.
I grabbed her legs and flipped her over. She squealed briefly before controlling herself. I pulled her legs until her ass was hanging over the bed. She stayed still as I unzipped and let my pants fall. Cock in hand, I entered her.
Jennifer groaned as my cock returned to its rightful place. She grabbed her sheets as I pushed forcefully into her. Her tight ass clenched as slammed in my cock. I was glad to see that her cunt was just as wet as I had smelled.
We fucked. To be more accurate, I fucked her. The bed shook with the force of our fornicating. Jennifer was dead quiet, but the bedsprings were giving us away.
Her silence annoyed me. I slapped her ass while I fucked her. These were not the thoughtful taps I had seen at the dungeon either; these were the hard slaps of my big hands hitting her round ass. My hand fell on her with the righteous fury of a man claiming his woman.
The first slap caught her by surprise, and Jennifer cried out. By the third slap, she was biting down on her sheet to keep from crying out. It didn’t matter. The sound of her ass getting spanked echoed through the room and, I suspected, through the apartment as well.
The sounds of fucking, spanking and creaking bedsprings filled the bedroom. Jennifer was doing a good job of keeping quiet, but the sounds of sex were all around us. I knew she was horrified by the idea. Nina and Pam would know that I came over purely to fuck her. She was humiliated.
She was also incredibly wet. Jennifer climaxed once and then quickly again as I pounded her cunt. I stopped slapping her ass and reached for her long brown hair. My hand pulled her head back and forced her to arch her back as I thrust. The sweet sound of her whimpering added to the mix.
I came. I felt the muscles of her cunt milk my seed from my body. I wiped the sweat from my face and wiped my hand on her ass.
“Good slut,” I said as I pulled out.
Jennifer found the strength to turn over. “Thank you,” she said. I am not sure if she meant for the compliment or for the fucking. “Will you be staying?”
The beast was silent. I was actually intrigued by the idea. What would it be like to hang out with her friends? If Nina had hated me before, she was going to hate my guts now.
“No,” I said. It seemed too normal to consider. I almost didn’t want to push my luck.
“No,” I said again. “I’ll be by to pick you up on Sunday.”
Jennifer looked up me. Her cunt smelled of sex and my seed. “I can’t wait.”
I reached down and scooped up the panties she had been wearing. No matter what else was happening, I was going to keep collecting my trophies.
“Get dressed,” I told her. “I want to you to see me to the door.”
The smile that blossomed on her face was amazing. For some reason, it made me sad. Perhaps I knew that this giddiness could not possibly last.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Stealing Time
I have a big work project coming up. We do this SUPER thing once a year, where my life becomes really long days for about six weeks. It eats away at my soul and the only reason I put up with it is because the pay is outrageous. On the other hand, by the time it is over, I am exhausted and quite pissy.
Which means writing is going to become a real bitch. It is hard to write after you are sitting in front of a computer for 10 hours. It is hard to write when you can think of a hundred other things that need to be done. It is really hard to write when what you want to be doing is anything BUT sit in front of a computer some more.
But you know, tough shit.
I read a lot of articles about writing. The number one complaint among writers is the lack of time they have for writing. They have kids. They have hobbies. They have spouses who like to be noticed every once in awhile. I get it. I sympathize. It can be really tough to find the time to write.
If it was easy to find time, then everyone would be writers.
I think you have to mean about time. I think you have to be vicious. There is time to write but man, you have to claw for it. You have to plan for it, stalk it and then pounce.
When it is time to write, you gotta be ready.
I learned this at the car factory I used to work at. Man, you have not gone insane till you worked a 12 hour day when all you really want to do is bust out a BDSM epic. I used to have literally half an hour a day to write. It was sandwiched between be getting home and having to go to sleep for the day so I can get enough rest to go back to work.
I used to get so much done in that half hour. Mostly because I spent 12 hours thinking about it. I had details worked out, names decided and all those tiny things that slow you down. I told the story to myself all night long. I rehearsed it orally to myself. By the time that magic half hour rolled around, my fingers just flew.
I'm not saying it is easy. Every day, life throws new shit at us. If you work at a job where you actually have to use your brain like I do now, you will be forced to work on your stories during bathroom breaks, driving and eating. If you are lucky, you will be dreaming it.
That is the thing about writing. We rarely are fortunate enough to have the time we want when we want it. The only solution is to fucking seize it where we can.
Which means writing is going to become a real bitch. It is hard to write after you are sitting in front of a computer for 10 hours. It is hard to write when you can think of a hundred other things that need to be done. It is really hard to write when what you want to be doing is anything BUT sit in front of a computer some more.
But you know, tough shit.
I read a lot of articles about writing. The number one complaint among writers is the lack of time they have for writing. They have kids. They have hobbies. They have spouses who like to be noticed every once in awhile. I get it. I sympathize. It can be really tough to find the time to write.
If it was easy to find time, then everyone would be writers.
I think you have to mean about time. I think you have to be vicious. There is time to write but man, you have to claw for it. You have to plan for it, stalk it and then pounce.
When it is time to write, you gotta be ready.
I learned this at the car factory I used to work at. Man, you have not gone insane till you worked a 12 hour day when all you really want to do is bust out a BDSM epic. I used to have literally half an hour a day to write. It was sandwiched between be getting home and having to go to sleep for the day so I can get enough rest to go back to work.
I used to get so much done in that half hour. Mostly because I spent 12 hours thinking about it. I had details worked out, names decided and all those tiny things that slow you down. I told the story to myself all night long. I rehearsed it orally to myself. By the time that magic half hour rolled around, my fingers just flew.
I'm not saying it is easy. Every day, life throws new shit at us. If you work at a job where you actually have to use your brain like I do now, you will be forced to work on your stories during bathroom breaks, driving and eating. If you are lucky, you will be dreaming it.
That is the thing about writing. We rarely are fortunate enough to have the time we want when we want it. The only solution is to fucking seize it where we can.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
The Wolf Inside
In BDSM fiction, the most popular story is that of a regular normal person experiencing the journey of self discovery as a submissive. The 'Coming of Submissive' is popular for really simple reasons. For vanilla readers, they get to see a transformation usually accompanied by a lot of rationalization. For kinky readers, they get to relive their own transformation through the eyes of a fictional character. The act of anyone becoming a different person is also an easy to understand story arc that almost any writer can pull off.
For ages I had wanted to write a 'Coming of Dominant' story. I had written several 'Coming of Submissive' stories to the point that they were threatening to bore me. As a dominant I wanted to tell a story closer to my own interests. I stumbled across doing so when I did 'Volleyball Island Madd-ness' but that was a comedy. Heck, it was also a female dominant, which is not quite me.
I made a list of the things I wanted to discuss in a 'Coming of Dominant' story in an attempt to brainstorm a plot. It seems to be that when people write stories about dominants, they tend to create these flawless egomaniacs who seem to conjure incredible acts of submission out of their submissives. The dominants I knew in real life were a Hell of a lot more insecure. I knew the egomaniac doms and yeah, they are quite gripping, but they seem to be the exception rather than the rule. I wanted to talk about that dominant insecurity.
The other thing I noticed about dominants was their Jekyll/Hyde natures. Long term submissives often spoke of their dominants as if they were two people. There was the nice guy that they loved and then there was that terrible force of nature that they lusted.
I wrestled with how to address these issues forever. My lucky break came when I read Mark Millar's 'Wanted'. The movie was about silly assassins and a sillier magic loom. The comic was much more outlandish. It was about a dork who finds out he is the son of a super villain. Over the course of the series, he is trained by other villains to kill, rape, steal and do as he damn well pleased.
I thought the story was shit the first time I read it. A few months later, I came back to it. I wasn't sure why. It was an adolescent power trip fantasy but it was growing on me. I ignored the bits I hated and realized what I loved was that it was a 'Coming of Dick' story.
Creativity can be hard to explain. Things cemented in my mind over a few weeks. The story in 'Wanted' was shit except for one great part- normal dork whom everyone walks over, suddenly becomes different and not in a noble way. I wanted to discuss the dual nature of dominants. I wanted to talk about the twin conflicts of lust and anxiety.
That is how I came up with becoming a werewolf as a metaphor for being a dominant. Things fell into place. There is the character of Dylan, but there is also the beast inside. It is transmitted sexually, but only rarely. Best of all, it doesn't come with an instruction book. In the real world, kinky people can find groups and books for their questions, but it is my belief that no book or support group can really explain those feelings inside you. They can relate, but can anyone really know the personal beasts inside a dominant? I don't think so.
I hope you enjoy it.
The Wolf Inside
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
For ages I had wanted to write a 'Coming of Dominant' story. I had written several 'Coming of Submissive' stories to the point that they were threatening to bore me. As a dominant I wanted to tell a story closer to my own interests. I stumbled across doing so when I did 'Volleyball Island Madd-ness' but that was a comedy. Heck, it was also a female dominant, which is not quite me.
I made a list of the things I wanted to discuss in a 'Coming of Dominant' story in an attempt to brainstorm a plot. It seems to be that when people write stories about dominants, they tend to create these flawless egomaniacs who seem to conjure incredible acts of submission out of their submissives. The dominants I knew in real life were a Hell of a lot more insecure. I knew the egomaniac doms and yeah, they are quite gripping, but they seem to be the exception rather than the rule. I wanted to talk about that dominant insecurity.
The other thing I noticed about dominants was their Jekyll/Hyde natures. Long term submissives often spoke of their dominants as if they were two people. There was the nice guy that they loved and then there was that terrible force of nature that they lusted.
I wrestled with how to address these issues forever. My lucky break came when I read Mark Millar's 'Wanted'. The movie was about silly assassins and a sillier magic loom. The comic was much more outlandish. It was about a dork who finds out he is the son of a super villain. Over the course of the series, he is trained by other villains to kill, rape, steal and do as he damn well pleased.
I thought the story was shit the first time I read it. A few months later, I came back to it. I wasn't sure why. It was an adolescent power trip fantasy but it was growing on me. I ignored the bits I hated and realized what I loved was that it was a 'Coming of Dick' story.
Creativity can be hard to explain. Things cemented in my mind over a few weeks. The story in 'Wanted' was shit except for one great part- normal dork whom everyone walks over, suddenly becomes different and not in a noble way. I wanted to discuss the dual nature of dominants. I wanted to talk about the twin conflicts of lust and anxiety.
That is how I came up with becoming a werewolf as a metaphor for being a dominant. Things fell into place. There is the character of Dylan, but there is also the beast inside. It is transmitted sexually, but only rarely. Best of all, it doesn't come with an instruction book. In the real world, kinky people can find groups and books for their questions, but it is my belief that no book or support group can really explain those feelings inside you. They can relate, but can anyone really know the personal beasts inside a dominant? I don't think so.
I hope you enjoy it.
The Wolf Inside
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Fiction: Wolf's Bitch Part Two
Jennifer walked into my apartment of her own free will. She was still covering her breasts with her hands with a misguided sense of modesty. Her face was red from the cold, or perhaps with the shame of what she had done tonight.
She had no idea.
The beast had to taste her. I pounced and pushed her up against the wall. My hands grabbed her wrists and pinned her. My mouth growled, then kissed her.
I took her mouth. Jennifer didn’t resist. She moaned as my tongue invaded her and claimed her. I drank her moans from her lips. I bit her tongue when it pleased me, and every time I did, she jumped. I just tightened my grip on her wrists. Her bare breasts pressed against my chest, and I was aware of every soft inch of warmth. Jennifer squirmed as I kissed her. I could smell her desire rising in response to mine.
When I broke the kiss, Jennifer let out a gasp of air. Her lips looked as swollen as if they had been slapped. It made me smile. Swollen lips would be the least of her concerns.
I grabbed her throat. I felt her pulse as I tightened my grip. Fear passed over her face and gave way to a smile. The smile annoyed me, and my fingers pressed harder. The smile faded, but her pussy flushed with new desire. That I liked.
“Unzip my pants,” I commanded her.
The smile almost returned, but she stopped herself. She was smart. She loosened my belt and then unzipped me. Her fingers trembled as she grazed my cock. She didn’t reach in and fondle me as so many women had. The beast approved.
“Take out my cock,” I told her. My hand closed a little tighter around her throat.
Jennifer pushed down my pants so they fell to my ankles. She reached into my boxers and moaned as she felt my girth. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out my hard cock. Gently, almost reverently, she explored the length of my cock with her fingers. The beast allowed her to because she did it with respect.
“Tonight, that is going inside you,” I told her. “Tonight, I will fill your cunt with my cock. When I tire of your cunt, I will ram my cock into your mouth. When I tire of your mouth, I will slam my cock into your ass. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. I released her throat, and she let out another gasp. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, I pushed her to the ground. She landed hard, and I was on top of her. My hands pawed at her pants. The button flew off as I ripped them open. When I pulled them off, I lifted her entire lower body off the ground. She fell back down as I tossed the pants aside.
Blue panties covered her sex. They were soaked. The smell drove me insane. I couldn’t stop myself. I plunged my face into her panties and licked the juices from them. My teeth bit down and tore into them. I shredded her panties as I ate my way to her sex.
She was shaved bare. After eating my way in, I started on her sex proper. I licked furiously, the smell luring me deeper inside her. This wasn’t the gentle licking of a lover. This was a savage devouring of her sex for every precious drop of cunt juice. Jennifer squirmed beneath me, but my hands and mouth kept her down on the carpet.
In time, my cock demanded his share. My face soaked, I rose up and kicked her legs apart. Jennifer lay there helpless as I mounted her. My eating of her sex had broken any last resistance. She was ready for me, and so was her cunt.
I growled as I entered her. My cock slid inside her soaking cunt and filled her entirely. Jennifer moaned. I buried my cock inside her. She lifted her body to meet mine, and I approved of the fresh smell of lust rolling off her. I felt her legs wrap around me and pull me in deeper.
We fucked. When the fury of the moon is upon me, there is no need for fancy positions or sex tricks from magazines. My cock was inside her, and that was all that mattered. All we needed were hips crashing into open thighs and balls slapping against wet cunt. All I needed was the sight of her breasts shaking from each thrust of my cock. All she needed was the heat I was ramming into her.
Jennifer grunted as I fucked her. I cared nothing for the violence that my fucking was doing to her.
She kept squirming underneath me. I realized she was trying to make herself comfortable on the cold carpet. Her movements just made me thrust harder.
She screamed her climaxes. They meant nothing to me.
When I climaxed, I howled my joy. All the frustration of the moon poured through my cock. I emptied inside of her and felt all the stress melt into her cunt. For one brief glorious moment, the beast inside me was quiet.
My brain was working again. I looked down at Jennifer and felt her trembling beneath me. I had used her roughly. The almost-goofy grin on her face told me she’d liked it. The beast might be sated for the moment, but I was not. I wanted more.
“Get up,” I said. I pulled out of her and grabbed her long brown hair. Jennifer tried to stand, but her legs weren’t cooperating. I didn’t slow down. I walked to my couch, still dragging her by the hair. She half crawled along, groaning as I pulled her ruthlessly.
I sat on the couch. Jennifer tried to join me, and I pushed her back to the floor. She looked up at me and saw that my cock was still hard. My thighs parted for her. My cock was a mess from our sex.
“I need a break,” she whispered. “I’m a little overwhelmed.”
The beast didn’t answer. It was up to me. We could talk. We could get to know one another before the beast needed more cunt.
These things didn’t hold much interest for me anymore.
I grabbed her hair and pulled her to my cock. Jennifer didn’t resist. She opened her mouth just in time for my cock to enter her. I pushed her down until my entire cock disappeared inside her.
Her breasts pressed against my thighs. She put her hands behind her, which was a nice touch. Despite her protests, she was sucking my cock rather nicely. She licked her juice and my seed with equal relish. I kept her head pinned to my lap. It just felt right.
I wondered for a moment when I had changed. When the beast first awoke within me, I used to spend so much time worrying about the women I craved. I was always deferential to my girlfriends to a fault. Now, I treat the women I fuck as though I own them. It is not just the beast inside me, either. The real me likes it, too.
Jennifer sucked harder as I pondered myself. She still had her hands clasped behind her back, and I knew she was lost in a fantasy of her own making. The beast in me inspires my prey to relish in the taking. Up and down, she slammed her mouth onto my cock with a force equal to my savagery. I approved.
I realized then when I had changed. The fucking was always fun, but they never stuck around. They were always eager to fuck, but when the lust was over, they couldn’t get away quickly enough. I have heard so many lame excuses about why they can’t give me a number or see me again. Once the mind-blowing sex was over, they feared me, and they were a little ashamed of themselves. Since none of them wanted to stay, I had started rejecting them before they had a chance to reject me.
My self-reflection was interrupted by Jennifer’s sucking. She was moving her head from side to side as she sucked me. The beast awoke to her extra efforts. My grip tightened in her hair as I felt my cock begin to surge. You might think after the women I have had that a blowjob would be nothing special, but you would be wrong. Jennifer was throwing her entire body into it. Her back arched as she moved, and her hips swayed as she developed a rhythm. Every part of her body was helping to suck my cock.
Both of my hands kept a grip on her hair as I came. Jennifer froze as the first splash of seed filled her mouth. She started to pull away, but I kept her there. Like a good slut, she relaxed and swallowed. I pumped into her mouth for a full minute. Since the change, my climaxes have been getting bigger and bigger.
“Wow,” she said when I finally released her. “I have never swallowed before.”
I grunted. “You do now.”
I reached down and grabbed a full breast. I squeezed hard and enjoyed the pain I was inflicting. A new scent of desire told me that she enjoyed it, too.
“You are unstoppable.” She laughed. “What is it? Viagra?”
Then I laughed. “I appreciate a good slut, is all. When was the last time you were used like this?”
Jennifer frowned at the term “used.”
“Never,” she said. “Boyfriends don’t exactly go for this and I have never had a one-night stand before.”
I nodded and got up. “Come with me to the bedroom.”
She started to stand, and I pushed her down. “Crawl behind me.”
The look on her face was priceless. It was like she’d waited her whole life for someone to say that to her. In that moment, I thanked the beast, for it allowed me to grant these tiny pieces of joy to these women.
“Come on,” I said as I walked down the hall. I heard her as she crawled behind me. “Let’s see if your ass is as good as your mouth.
It was.
I awoke sometime after dawn, my cock sticky from the sex. The beast slumbered. Three hours of fucking, two blowjobs, an anal fuck and a handjob onto Jennifer’s breasts had sated it. The sun was up, but I could feel the moon. When night fell, I would have to find another prey.
Jennifer was beside me. She was naked. Her body was marked with scratches and bruises. Her lips were swollen from the 100 times I’d taken her mouth. She looked like a mess, but I hoped she’d remember me fondly. Remember me fondly as she ran for her life this morning.
Her eyes opened. She smiled contently. To my surprise, she took my hand and placed it on her breast.
“What are your plans for today?” she asked.
For once, I was the one who was speechless. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“I have an idea,” she said. She crawled over to my cock. She took my dirty cock into her mouth and sucked me gently.
I couldn’t believe it. She wanted to stay.
She had no idea.
The beast had to taste her. I pounced and pushed her up against the wall. My hands grabbed her wrists and pinned her. My mouth growled, then kissed her.
I took her mouth. Jennifer didn’t resist. She moaned as my tongue invaded her and claimed her. I drank her moans from her lips. I bit her tongue when it pleased me, and every time I did, she jumped. I just tightened my grip on her wrists. Her bare breasts pressed against my chest, and I was aware of every soft inch of warmth. Jennifer squirmed as I kissed her. I could smell her desire rising in response to mine.
When I broke the kiss, Jennifer let out a gasp of air. Her lips looked as swollen as if they had been slapped. It made me smile. Swollen lips would be the least of her concerns.
I grabbed her throat. I felt her pulse as I tightened my grip. Fear passed over her face and gave way to a smile. The smile annoyed me, and my fingers pressed harder. The smile faded, but her pussy flushed with new desire. That I liked.
“Unzip my pants,” I commanded her.
The smile almost returned, but she stopped herself. She was smart. She loosened my belt and then unzipped me. Her fingers trembled as she grazed my cock. She didn’t reach in and fondle me as so many women had. The beast approved.
“Take out my cock,” I told her. My hand closed a little tighter around her throat.
Jennifer pushed down my pants so they fell to my ankles. She reached into my boxers and moaned as she felt my girth. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out my hard cock. Gently, almost reverently, she explored the length of my cock with her fingers. The beast allowed her to because she did it with respect.
“Tonight, that is going inside you,” I told her. “Tonight, I will fill your cunt with my cock. When I tire of your cunt, I will ram my cock into your mouth. When I tire of your mouth, I will slam my cock into your ass. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. I released her throat, and she let out another gasp. Before she had a chance to catch her breath, I pushed her to the ground. She landed hard, and I was on top of her. My hands pawed at her pants. The button flew off as I ripped them open. When I pulled them off, I lifted her entire lower body off the ground. She fell back down as I tossed the pants aside.
Blue panties covered her sex. They were soaked. The smell drove me insane. I couldn’t stop myself. I plunged my face into her panties and licked the juices from them. My teeth bit down and tore into them. I shredded her panties as I ate my way to her sex.
She was shaved bare. After eating my way in, I started on her sex proper. I licked furiously, the smell luring me deeper inside her. This wasn’t the gentle licking of a lover. This was a savage devouring of her sex for every precious drop of cunt juice. Jennifer squirmed beneath me, but my hands and mouth kept her down on the carpet.
In time, my cock demanded his share. My face soaked, I rose up and kicked her legs apart. Jennifer lay there helpless as I mounted her. My eating of her sex had broken any last resistance. She was ready for me, and so was her cunt.
I growled as I entered her. My cock slid inside her soaking cunt and filled her entirely. Jennifer moaned. I buried my cock inside her. She lifted her body to meet mine, and I approved of the fresh smell of lust rolling off her. I felt her legs wrap around me and pull me in deeper.
We fucked. When the fury of the moon is upon me, there is no need for fancy positions or sex tricks from magazines. My cock was inside her, and that was all that mattered. All we needed were hips crashing into open thighs and balls slapping against wet cunt. All I needed was the sight of her breasts shaking from each thrust of my cock. All she needed was the heat I was ramming into her.
Jennifer grunted as I fucked her. I cared nothing for the violence that my fucking was doing to her.
She kept squirming underneath me. I realized she was trying to make herself comfortable on the cold carpet. Her movements just made me thrust harder.
She screamed her climaxes. They meant nothing to me.
When I climaxed, I howled my joy. All the frustration of the moon poured through my cock. I emptied inside of her and felt all the stress melt into her cunt. For one brief glorious moment, the beast inside me was quiet.
My brain was working again. I looked down at Jennifer and felt her trembling beneath me. I had used her roughly. The almost-goofy grin on her face told me she’d liked it. The beast might be sated for the moment, but I was not. I wanted more.
“Get up,” I said. I pulled out of her and grabbed her long brown hair. Jennifer tried to stand, but her legs weren’t cooperating. I didn’t slow down. I walked to my couch, still dragging her by the hair. She half crawled along, groaning as I pulled her ruthlessly.
I sat on the couch. Jennifer tried to join me, and I pushed her back to the floor. She looked up at me and saw that my cock was still hard. My thighs parted for her. My cock was a mess from our sex.
“I need a break,” she whispered. “I’m a little overwhelmed.”
The beast didn’t answer. It was up to me. We could talk. We could get to know one another before the beast needed more cunt.
These things didn’t hold much interest for me anymore.
I grabbed her hair and pulled her to my cock. Jennifer didn’t resist. She opened her mouth just in time for my cock to enter her. I pushed her down until my entire cock disappeared inside her.
Her breasts pressed against my thighs. She put her hands behind her, which was a nice touch. Despite her protests, she was sucking my cock rather nicely. She licked her juice and my seed with equal relish. I kept her head pinned to my lap. It just felt right.
I wondered for a moment when I had changed. When the beast first awoke within me, I used to spend so much time worrying about the women I craved. I was always deferential to my girlfriends to a fault. Now, I treat the women I fuck as though I own them. It is not just the beast inside me, either. The real me likes it, too.
Jennifer sucked harder as I pondered myself. She still had her hands clasped behind her back, and I knew she was lost in a fantasy of her own making. The beast in me inspires my prey to relish in the taking. Up and down, she slammed her mouth onto my cock with a force equal to my savagery. I approved.
I realized then when I had changed. The fucking was always fun, but they never stuck around. They were always eager to fuck, but when the lust was over, they couldn’t get away quickly enough. I have heard so many lame excuses about why they can’t give me a number or see me again. Once the mind-blowing sex was over, they feared me, and they were a little ashamed of themselves. Since none of them wanted to stay, I had started rejecting them before they had a chance to reject me.
My self-reflection was interrupted by Jennifer’s sucking. She was moving her head from side to side as she sucked me. The beast awoke to her extra efforts. My grip tightened in her hair as I felt my cock begin to surge. You might think after the women I have had that a blowjob would be nothing special, but you would be wrong. Jennifer was throwing her entire body into it. Her back arched as she moved, and her hips swayed as she developed a rhythm. Every part of her body was helping to suck my cock.
Both of my hands kept a grip on her hair as I came. Jennifer froze as the first splash of seed filled her mouth. She started to pull away, but I kept her there. Like a good slut, she relaxed and swallowed. I pumped into her mouth for a full minute. Since the change, my climaxes have been getting bigger and bigger.
“Wow,” she said when I finally released her. “I have never swallowed before.”
I grunted. “You do now.”
I reached down and grabbed a full breast. I squeezed hard and enjoyed the pain I was inflicting. A new scent of desire told me that she enjoyed it, too.
“You are unstoppable.” She laughed. “What is it? Viagra?”
Then I laughed. “I appreciate a good slut, is all. When was the last time you were used like this?”
Jennifer frowned at the term “used.”
“Never,” she said. “Boyfriends don’t exactly go for this and I have never had a one-night stand before.”
I nodded and got up. “Come with me to the bedroom.”
She started to stand, and I pushed her down. “Crawl behind me.”
The look on her face was priceless. It was like she’d waited her whole life for someone to say that to her. In that moment, I thanked the beast, for it allowed me to grant these tiny pieces of joy to these women.
“Come on,” I said as I walked down the hall. I heard her as she crawled behind me. “Let’s see if your ass is as good as your mouth.
It was.
I awoke sometime after dawn, my cock sticky from the sex. The beast slumbered. Three hours of fucking, two blowjobs, an anal fuck and a handjob onto Jennifer’s breasts had sated it. The sun was up, but I could feel the moon. When night fell, I would have to find another prey.
Jennifer was beside me. She was naked. Her body was marked with scratches and bruises. Her lips were swollen from the 100 times I’d taken her mouth. She looked like a mess, but I hoped she’d remember me fondly. Remember me fondly as she ran for her life this morning.
Her eyes opened. She smiled contently. To my surprise, she took my hand and placed it on her breast.
“What are your plans for today?” she asked.
For once, I was the one who was speechless. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“I have an idea,” she said. She crawled over to my cock. She took my dirty cock into her mouth and sucked me gently.
I couldn’t believe it. She wanted to stay.
Monday, March 08, 2010
Tag-Team Review: Bitch Slap
Darius Whiteplume teamed up to combine our powers to analyze a great movie. Enjoy!
Darius Whiteplume: "One of the great things about B-Movies is that occasionally you get to witness something really transformative; a film that changes the way A-List movies work. Night of the Living Dead for example, or perhaps THX 1138. Talented people without money can do great things when they are passionate. Will Bitch Slap change A-List cinema? Probably not, but it is not without its qualities.
"Rick Jacobson and co-writer Eric Gruendemann both have a long background in television and film, most notably for work on Xena: Warrior Princess and Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. They bring a lot of that style, and a lot of their former colleagues to Bitch Slap with appearances by Lucy Lawless (Xena), Kevin Sorbo (Hercules), Renée O'Connor (Gabrielle), and as the lead villain we have Michael Hurst (Iolas). Also, the film's stunt coordinator is Zoë Bell."
Shon Richards: "I was wondering if there was a Hercules/Xena connection. Not because of the costars, but because it shares that same insane sensibilities of how the world works. Just like thinking Hercules was Mythology would get you flunked out of English class, Bitch Slap will not prepare you for a world of guns and chicks.
"That to me was what really made the film work. In the real world, strip club parties are not held at the Department of Homeland Security. In the real world, yo-yos are not deadly weapons despite Japan furiously working on the problem. In the real world, psycho bitch lesbians don’t look as awesome as Camaro. In most movies when you see this stuff, it takes you out of your suspension of belief. In this movie, all these outrageous elements help glue each other together."
DW: "Superficially the film is about three women searching for treasure buried in the desert; Hel (Erin Cummings), Camaro (America Olivo), and Trixie (Julia Voth). They have taken the criminal Gage (Michael Hurst) so he can show them where it is. Obviously, you can have that as the entire plot, so there is a lot of playing with back story, and a twist ending.
"To many, the film may not seem to be what the title suggests to them. In the 'making of' segment on the DVD, America Olivo explains that when she accepted the role, she thought, 'this is porn, isn't it. That's what my career has come to.' But it is a far cry from porn. There is almost zero nudity, but it is definitely a jiggle fest. There are some highly gratuitous scenes of clothed sexiness, and a seemingly inappropriate water fight cum wet t-shirt contest. All this is just buildup to a bare-knuckled, gun-slinging, semi-psychotic second half that is nearly all action."
SR: "As a porn writer and watcher of many softcore movies, I was impressed with how sexy this movie was for its lack of nudity. Part of that came from embracing the strange unreality that the movie presented. Of course sweaty girls digging in the desert are going to douse each other in water. That is just what they do here. In normal softcore movies, it would have been forced and silly. Here it was silly yet somehow natural. I don’t know how they did that. I am terribly jealous.
"The lesbian sex scene is in my top five list of all time best movie sex scenes. Hel and Camaro somehow became sexier the more beat up they became. These ladies even made blood look awesome. There should be an artbook about this movie.
"As for the action scenes, you will not get better fight scenes anywhere. Holy crap, the final fight alone is worth the price of the DVD and it is only one of many. There is a higher action-per-second ratio than what you find in average 80’s movies. Guns, knives, punches, chains, rockets and killer yo-yos are just some of the dangerous things you will see used. I could be wrong, but I think there was a midget with a machine gun."
DW: "You did. That was Debbie Lee Carrington as 'Hot Pocket.' I thought it was Bridgette the Midget at first. Carrington has done a lot of film and TV. You might recognize her as 'Emperor Penguin' in Batman Returns… Wait. No you wouldn’t. Anyway, she’s in a ton of stuff. If I remember correctly, there was a hot midget in Total Recall. That was her.
"The movie pays homage to other styles and films. There is an obvious Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! relationship, as well as nod to Quentin Tarantino, Frank Miller, and The Usual Suspects. The story is not linear, being played out in flashbacks that setup the end game. Jacobson and Gruendemann have writing and directorial chops, so this isn't just a film made by guys who could find hot chicks to cast. The low budget is limiting, but also freeing in many senses as they have complete control of the film."
SR: “I have to admit that the opening montage of clips from other movies made me nervous. You show a clip of Coffy and Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! At the start of your movie, you have set the bar pretty high. Looking back I can see that they were trying to set the mood but I thought it was a huge gamble. I am just relieved they pulled it off.
"The flashbacks were very well done. You are exactly right in saying that these are not your normal hot chick focused writers and producers. There is a story here chained together with some awesome action sequences. Even the jiggle scenes are tied into the plot. The final fight is between the two most interesting characters as it should be. Even when the plot goes in directions too ridiculous to repeat, the story stays coherent.
"I do wonder if they can pull off another movie like this. I wouldn’t call it a parody of b-movie action/tease genre, as much as it was an elevation of the art form. I wonder if they have enough in them to do another movie like this that wouldn’t be a rehash of what they have already done."
Darius Whiteplume: "One of the great things about B-Movies is that occasionally you get to witness something really transformative; a film that changes the way A-List movies work. Night of the Living Dead for example, or perhaps THX 1138. Talented people without money can do great things when they are passionate. Will Bitch Slap change A-List cinema? Probably not, but it is not without its qualities."Rick Jacobson and co-writer Eric Gruendemann both have a long background in television and film, most notably for work on Xena: Warrior Princess and Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. They bring a lot of that style, and a lot of their former colleagues to Bitch Slap with appearances by Lucy Lawless (Xena), Kevin Sorbo (Hercules), Renée O'Connor (Gabrielle), and as the lead villain we have Michael Hurst (Iolas). Also, the film's stunt coordinator is Zoë Bell."
Shon Richards: "I was wondering if there was a Hercules/Xena connection. Not because of the costars, but because it shares that same insane sensibilities of how the world works. Just like thinking Hercules was Mythology would get you flunked out of English class, Bitch Slap will not prepare you for a world of guns and chicks.
"That to me was what really made the film work. In the real world, strip club parties are not held at the Department of Homeland Security. In the real world, yo-yos are not deadly weapons despite Japan furiously working on the problem. In the real world, psycho bitch lesbians don’t look as awesome as Camaro. In most movies when you see this stuff, it takes you out of your suspension of belief. In this movie, all these outrageous elements help glue each other together."
DW: "Superficially the film is about three women searching for treasure buried in the desert; Hel (Erin Cummings), Camaro (America Olivo), and Trixie (Julia Voth). They have taken the criminal Gage (Michael Hurst) so he can show them where it is. Obviously, you can have that as the entire plot, so there is a lot of playing with back story, and a twist ending.
"To many, the film may not seem to be what the title suggests to them. In the 'making of' segment on the DVD, America Olivo explains that when she accepted the role, she thought, 'this is porn, isn't it. That's what my career has come to.' But it is a far cry from porn. There is almost zero nudity, but it is definitely a jiggle fest. There are some highly gratuitous scenes of clothed sexiness, and a seemingly inappropriate water fight cum wet t-shirt contest. All this is just buildup to a bare-knuckled, gun-slinging, semi-psychotic second half that is nearly all action."
SR: "As a porn writer and watcher of many softcore movies, I was impressed with how sexy this movie was for its lack of nudity. Part of that came from embracing the strange unreality that the movie presented. Of course sweaty girls digging in the desert are going to douse each other in water. That is just what they do here. In normal softcore movies, it would have been forced and silly. Here it was silly yet somehow natural. I don’t know how they did that. I am terribly jealous.
"The lesbian sex scene is in my top five list of all time best movie sex scenes. Hel and Camaro somehow became sexier the more beat up they became. These ladies even made blood look awesome. There should be an artbook about this movie.
"As for the action scenes, you will not get better fight scenes anywhere. Holy crap, the final fight alone is worth the price of the DVD and it is only one of many. There is a higher action-per-second ratio than what you find in average 80’s movies. Guns, knives, punches, chains, rockets and killer yo-yos are just some of the dangerous things you will see used. I could be wrong, but I think there was a midget with a machine gun."
DW: "You did. That was Debbie Lee Carrington as 'Hot Pocket.' I thought it was Bridgette the Midget at first. Carrington has done a lot of film and TV. You might recognize her as 'Emperor Penguin' in Batman Returns… Wait. No you wouldn’t. Anyway, she’s in a ton of stuff. If I remember correctly, there was a hot midget in Total Recall. That was her.
"The movie pays homage to other styles and films. There is an obvious Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! relationship, as well as nod to Quentin Tarantino, Frank Miller, and The Usual Suspects. The story is not linear, being played out in flashbacks that setup the end game. Jacobson and Gruendemann have writing and directorial chops, so this isn't just a film made by guys who could find hot chicks to cast. The low budget is limiting, but also freeing in many senses as they have complete control of the film."
SR: “I have to admit that the opening montage of clips from other movies made me nervous. You show a clip of Coffy and Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! At the start of your movie, you have set the bar pretty high. Looking back I can see that they were trying to set the mood but I thought it was a huge gamble. I am just relieved they pulled it off.
"The flashbacks were very well done. You are exactly right in saying that these are not your normal hot chick focused writers and producers. There is a story here chained together with some awesome action sequences. Even the jiggle scenes are tied into the plot. The final fight is between the two most interesting characters as it should be. Even when the plot goes in directions too ridiculous to repeat, the story stays coherent.
"I do wonder if they can pull off another movie like this. I wouldn’t call it a parody of b-movie action/tease genre, as much as it was an elevation of the art form. I wonder if they have enough in them to do another movie like this that wouldn’t be a rehash of what they have already done."
Friday, March 05, 2010
Von Madd Laboratories Vibrator Update
Von Madd Laboratories is informing you that updates have been applied to your Von Madd Vibrator. There is no need to connect your Von Madd Vibrator to an internet connection. Updates have been applied using the new Quantum Matter Updater Satellite. WARNING! If your vibrator was touching a paddle at the time of the update, that paddle may now be a pink 38DD bra.
Updates include
*Added new vibration setting: "Fuck yeah!"
*Added audio instructions for first time users.
*Added audio instructions for dirty minded users.
*Added secret compartment for lubrication storage.
*Added alternate grip for left handed users.
*Reduced noise by 10%.
*Improved battery lifespan by 40%.
*Improved adjustable penetration depth by 34%.
*Improved night illumination glow by 78%.
*Fixed an issue where some users would experience radiation based mutations resulting in super powers.
*Fixed an issue where some users would see God.
*Fixed an issue where some users inexplicably had a craving for a chili dog after using the Von Madd Vibrator.
Updates include
*Added new vibration setting: "Fuck yeah!"
*Added audio instructions for first time users.
*Added audio instructions for dirty minded users.
*Added secret compartment for lubrication storage.
*Added alternate grip for left handed users.
*Reduced noise by 10%.
*Improved battery lifespan by 40%.
*Improved adjustable penetration depth by 34%.
*Improved night illumination glow by 78%.
*Fixed an issue where some users would experience radiation based mutations resulting in super powers.
*Fixed an issue where some users would see God.
*Fixed an issue where some users inexplicably had a craving for a chili dog after using the Von Madd Vibrator.
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Fiction: Wolf's Bitch Part One
The beast was hungry. Visions of breasts and cunts haunted my dreams. My cock was hard, and my legs ached with the need to run. I could smell every woman in my apartment building. I knew which ones were horny, and I knew which ones would be mine if I asked.
The moon was full again. For several months, I had managed to tame the insatiable thing inside me most of the time, but when the moon was full, I didn’t even try. I could work from home during the day, delaying my urges until the night. Then I could drive to a club or the mall or anywhere public and find my prey for the night. I would fuck her, come home and go back to work the next day. I had fucked over 100 women, and I never came home unsatisfied.
Do you have any idea how many women entertain submissive fantasies? I had no fucking idea — until that strange night when I met a beautiful stranger on the train and she changed me with a savage fuck. Now I can smell a submissive woman from a distance you would not believe. Even better, once I get near them, they know that I know. They know that I can make almost any dream come true for them. They know that I will fuck the shit out of them.
The only real drawback — well, if you don’t count the incessant hunger — is the fact that after I fuck a woman, the excitement goes away. I regain my senses, and apparently, so do they. The looks they give me sometimes, it is like they are afraid of me. I made their dreams come true, when some dreams are better unfulfilled.
You know how some guys dump girls after they fuck them? I have the worst time getting a girl to stay while I put my pants on.
If I weren’t so busy looking for my next lay, I might have time to get depressed about it.
When the full moon comes around, the rules change. Usually, I can delay my hunger for a day or two. While out of town at a business seminar, I was able to behave for three whole days. At the full moon, though, I don’t control the beast. The hunger takes charge, and I will fuck whatever suits my cravings. That is just the way it is.
I called in sick to work. My boss doesn’t care. I have fucked her a few times, and she is glad when I take a day off. It means I am spending it fucking someone else and not her. I put on a clean shirt and a pair of jeans. Christ, I used to dress so much more professionally. Now I prefer clothes that are easy to fuck in.
It was Friday morning, and I had to feast. I could smell a woman one floor above me who wished to be slapped during sex. I took a deep breath and could feel her need. She was horny right now, and I could have her.
I pushed her out of my head. I had rules. Being what I am doesn’t come with a fucking handbook, but I had picked up a few things.
Rule #1: Don’t fuck where you sleep.
When I first became who I was, I fucked a girl in my apartment complex. I kept running into her, and she kept shying away as if I were her stalker. I’ll bet she is counting the days till her lease is up. I know I am. The last thing I need is for my neighbors to wonder why the cute blonde nearly squeals when she sees me.
I left my complex and started walking. Atlanta is a big city. With so many women and so many desires, I knew it wouldn’t take me long. I had never been picked up from the side of the road, but shit, it could happen.
One thing I have noticed is that while I might be able to smell 100women, one smell will stand out. One woman will want it so badly that she almost reeks of it. Somewhere is a woman who needs it more than the others, and the beast inside me wants her most of all.
I picked up her scent in a Publix parking lot, of all places. I laughed. Maybe I could pick up a meal when I picked up my prey. Her scent grew stronger as I headed for the grocery store. She was inside, and I was going to find her. By the time I walked in, I had forgotten all about eating — unless it was pussy.
People moved out of my way. Housewives who suspected what I was wouldn’t meet my eyes. Men who treat women nicely found reasons to go to another aisle. Helpful store employees knew better than to ask me if I needed anything. When I am hungry, people flee.
I found her. She had long brown hair that was going to be perfect for pulling. Despite the heavy coat she wore, I could sense her heavy breasts. Expensive boots covered her feet, and I couldn’t wait to put them over my shoulder. Her nose was a little pointed, sharp and dangerous-looking.
She hadn’t seen me yet, but I could smell her. Her cunt called out to me. Every breath told me more about her. I knew she liked to be choked. I knew she read porn online. I knew she sometimes dated a guy she couldn’t find a fault with. I knew her back was begging to be scratched.
I had to get inside her.
Silently, I stepped up to her. It is something I can do these days without thinking about it. When her head turned, my feet were already sidestepping. There was no real reason to sneak up on her, but I certainly enjoyed doing it. Prey should never see me coming.
I put my hand on her shoulder. She jumped, but she didn’t try to get away. She turned to me, and her lips trembled. It is curious how she didn’t say anything.
“I want you,” I said. “I can feel your desires, and I want to feast on them. I’ll choke you, I’ll strip you, and I will fuck you. Tell me your name, and come with me right now.”
She didn’t answer. The beast in me growled in annoyance, but I knew that patience worked best. My proposition was dirty, vulgar and shocking. It had to be soaked in to be appreciated.
“Jennifer,” she said.
“Good, but you made me wait,” I said. “Give me your bra, right now.”
Those full lips of hers parted in shock. Oh, I could not wait to shove my cock between them. To my delight, she argued.
“Right here?” she said. “I don’t even know you.”
“Give me your bra now, or you never will,” I said.
Jennifer bit her lip. She opened her coat and revealed a red blouse over the heavy breasts that I’d known she had. handed me her coat and then reached into her blouse sleeve. I thought about insisting that she take her shirt off, but I am not an animal.
An older man walked by, pushing his cart. When he lingered near us, I growled at him. He wisely kept moving.
Jennifer pulled out her bra. Great pink cups fell into my hand. I clutched my trophy and gave her back her coat.
“Good,” I said. “Let’s go. You’re driving.”
I took her by the arm, holding her bra in my other hand. I made no effort to hide my trophies. Jennifer put her basket down as we headed for the door. People stared at us, and all of them whispered, but no one stopped us.
We got into her car. I kept her bra in my lap. Jennifer was shaking as she put in her keys. I have that effect on some women.
“I don’t do things like this,” she said.
“You do now,” I answered.
I reached across and slipped my hand under her blouse. She groaned as my fingernails went over her breast. Her nipple slipped between my fingers, and it was already hard. My fingers closed around it and pinched her terribly.
“That hurts,” she said.
I pinched her harder. “Drive,” I said.
I gave her directions to my apartment. I held onto her breast for the entire drive. I squeeze and pulled on her poor nipple. Jennifer groaned, but she didn’t complain. I sank my fingers into the soft breast that was mine now. My nails caused her discomfort, but I could smell the effect I was having on her pussy. It just made me squeeze harder.
“This building here,” I said when we reached the apartment complex. Jennifer pulled into the parking lot and waited.
She was such an obedient girl. The beast inside me growled again. When the moon is full, obedience isn’t enough. I can fuck a woman any night. What the beast craved was complete control. The beast craved humiliation. The beast would be satisfied with nothing less than breaking her completely. It was just who we were.
“Take off your coat, and give me your blouse,” I said.
Jennifer smiled. Without any complaint, she took off her blouse and handed it to me. The street lamps bathed her topless body in yellow light. Her breasts were truly magnificent. Large and plump, they were two perfect moons. I couldn’t wait to mark them.
“I live upstairs,” I told her. “Apartment 301, if you look up, you’ll see me go in at the top of the stairs. I’m going to go first, and when you see me enter, you’ll count to 100. Only then can you come up to my door. I will decide then whether I will let you in.”
“Like this?” Jennifer asked. She was pointing at her lovely breasts. A new scent came from her pussy. It was strong and pungent with fear and desire.
I fought the urge to fuck her right here. “You have your instructions.”
I got out of the car with her clothes. Slowly, I walked up the stairs. The beast twisted inside me. The moon makes so many demands. I want sex, but I want cruelty, too. I want to fuck now, but even more than that, I want my prey to suffer. What I crave requires patience, and on these nights, I have so little. Jennifer might complain, but she had no idea how much more it hurts me.
I reached my door and looked over the landing rail. Jennifer was still there. She was covering her tits, but that was OK. The cold, brisk air would remind her of her nakedness.
The door opened, and I threw her clothes on the floor. Once the door was closed, I put my head against it. I tried to slow my breathing. The beast was screaming, but I made him wait. The cunt would be all the sweeter.
Just because I couldn’t see Jennifer didn’t mean I couldn’t tell where she was. Part of it was from her smell. Now that I had her scent, I could smell her need from the parking lot. I could smell the sex and the almost-paralyzing terror she was feeling. What I’d asked of her was too much, but it came from what I smelled of her. I had made a request straight out of her deepest desires. Now she had to choose to give in to them.
I heard her on the stairs. It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn I heard her heavy breasts bouncing as she came up the stairs. Her gasps as she ran up were as clear as if she had been standing right next to me. She was shivering from the cold, but she was also shivering from the fear of someone seeing her. I knew she had her hands over her tits, but Jennifer’s tits were too big to be covered by her hands. The best she could do was cover her nipples and expose the rest of her jiggling breasts.
My mouth was almost drooling. I wanted to rush through the door and leap on her. It took everything I had not to fuck her outside on the stairs.
My cock ached. I moaned.
There was a knock at the door. I could smell her heat. She was terrified but so damned horny.
I didn’t answer.
There was another series of knocks, louder this time. Now she was really scared. Shivering outside my door, exposed and vulnerable, Jennifer doubted her choices this evening. She was also very wet.
I didn’t answer.
More knocks came. “Hello?” Jennifer said. It was cute the way she was trying to get my attention yet somehow be quiet enough to not get anyone else’s.
I heard her whimper. It was such a delicious, pitiful sound.
The beast could wait no more.
I opened the door. “Get in,” I growled.
Jennifer’s eyes were wide with fear. She saw him. She saw the beast in me, and I think she understood exactly what she was in for. Part of me wanted to scream at her to run. I wanted her to flee and get the hell out of what I had planned for her tonight.
But I knew that if she did run, the beast would chase her back down. Part of me, that sick, twisted part of me, wanted her to run just so I could drag her back here.
Jennifer came inside and sealed her fate.
The moon was full again. For several months, I had managed to tame the insatiable thing inside me most of the time, but when the moon was full, I didn’t even try. I could work from home during the day, delaying my urges until the night. Then I could drive to a club or the mall or anywhere public and find my prey for the night. I would fuck her, come home and go back to work the next day. I had fucked over 100 women, and I never came home unsatisfied.
Do you have any idea how many women entertain submissive fantasies? I had no fucking idea — until that strange night when I met a beautiful stranger on the train and she changed me with a savage fuck. Now I can smell a submissive woman from a distance you would not believe. Even better, once I get near them, they know that I know. They know that I can make almost any dream come true for them. They know that I will fuck the shit out of them.
The only real drawback — well, if you don’t count the incessant hunger — is the fact that after I fuck a woman, the excitement goes away. I regain my senses, and apparently, so do they. The looks they give me sometimes, it is like they are afraid of me. I made their dreams come true, when some dreams are better unfulfilled.
You know how some guys dump girls after they fuck them? I have the worst time getting a girl to stay while I put my pants on.
If I weren’t so busy looking for my next lay, I might have time to get depressed about it.
When the full moon comes around, the rules change. Usually, I can delay my hunger for a day or two. While out of town at a business seminar, I was able to behave for three whole days. At the full moon, though, I don’t control the beast. The hunger takes charge, and I will fuck whatever suits my cravings. That is just the way it is.
I called in sick to work. My boss doesn’t care. I have fucked her a few times, and she is glad when I take a day off. It means I am spending it fucking someone else and not her. I put on a clean shirt and a pair of jeans. Christ, I used to dress so much more professionally. Now I prefer clothes that are easy to fuck in.
It was Friday morning, and I had to feast. I could smell a woman one floor above me who wished to be slapped during sex. I took a deep breath and could feel her need. She was horny right now, and I could have her.
I pushed her out of my head. I had rules. Being what I am doesn’t come with a fucking handbook, but I had picked up a few things.
Rule #1: Don’t fuck where you sleep.
When I first became who I was, I fucked a girl in my apartment complex. I kept running into her, and she kept shying away as if I were her stalker. I’ll bet she is counting the days till her lease is up. I know I am. The last thing I need is for my neighbors to wonder why the cute blonde nearly squeals when she sees me.
I left my complex and started walking. Atlanta is a big city. With so many women and so many desires, I knew it wouldn’t take me long. I had never been picked up from the side of the road, but shit, it could happen.
One thing I have noticed is that while I might be able to smell 100women, one smell will stand out. One woman will want it so badly that she almost reeks of it. Somewhere is a woman who needs it more than the others, and the beast inside me wants her most of all.
I picked up her scent in a Publix parking lot, of all places. I laughed. Maybe I could pick up a meal when I picked up my prey. Her scent grew stronger as I headed for the grocery store. She was inside, and I was going to find her. By the time I walked in, I had forgotten all about eating — unless it was pussy.
People moved out of my way. Housewives who suspected what I was wouldn’t meet my eyes. Men who treat women nicely found reasons to go to another aisle. Helpful store employees knew better than to ask me if I needed anything. When I am hungry, people flee.
I found her. She had long brown hair that was going to be perfect for pulling. Despite the heavy coat she wore, I could sense her heavy breasts. Expensive boots covered her feet, and I couldn’t wait to put them over my shoulder. Her nose was a little pointed, sharp and dangerous-looking.
She hadn’t seen me yet, but I could smell her. Her cunt called out to me. Every breath told me more about her. I knew she liked to be choked. I knew she read porn online. I knew she sometimes dated a guy she couldn’t find a fault with. I knew her back was begging to be scratched.
I had to get inside her.
Silently, I stepped up to her. It is something I can do these days without thinking about it. When her head turned, my feet were already sidestepping. There was no real reason to sneak up on her, but I certainly enjoyed doing it. Prey should never see me coming.
I put my hand on her shoulder. She jumped, but she didn’t try to get away. She turned to me, and her lips trembled. It is curious how she didn’t say anything.
“I want you,” I said. “I can feel your desires, and I want to feast on them. I’ll choke you, I’ll strip you, and I will fuck you. Tell me your name, and come with me right now.”
She didn’t answer. The beast in me growled in annoyance, but I knew that patience worked best. My proposition was dirty, vulgar and shocking. It had to be soaked in to be appreciated.
“Jennifer,” she said.
“Good, but you made me wait,” I said. “Give me your bra, right now.”
Those full lips of hers parted in shock. Oh, I could not wait to shove my cock between them. To my delight, she argued.
“Right here?” she said. “I don’t even know you.”
“Give me your bra now, or you never will,” I said.
Jennifer bit her lip. She opened her coat and revealed a red blouse over the heavy breasts that I’d known she had. handed me her coat and then reached into her blouse sleeve. I thought about insisting that she take her shirt off, but I am not an animal.
An older man walked by, pushing his cart. When he lingered near us, I growled at him. He wisely kept moving.
Jennifer pulled out her bra. Great pink cups fell into my hand. I clutched my trophy and gave her back her coat.
“Good,” I said. “Let’s go. You’re driving.”
I took her by the arm, holding her bra in my other hand. I made no effort to hide my trophies. Jennifer put her basket down as we headed for the door. People stared at us, and all of them whispered, but no one stopped us.
We got into her car. I kept her bra in my lap. Jennifer was shaking as she put in her keys. I have that effect on some women.
“I don’t do things like this,” she said.
“You do now,” I answered.
I reached across and slipped my hand under her blouse. She groaned as my fingernails went over her breast. Her nipple slipped between my fingers, and it was already hard. My fingers closed around it and pinched her terribly.
“That hurts,” she said.
I pinched her harder. “Drive,” I said.
I gave her directions to my apartment. I held onto her breast for the entire drive. I squeeze and pulled on her poor nipple. Jennifer groaned, but she didn’t complain. I sank my fingers into the soft breast that was mine now. My nails caused her discomfort, but I could smell the effect I was having on her pussy. It just made me squeeze harder.
“This building here,” I said when we reached the apartment complex. Jennifer pulled into the parking lot and waited.
She was such an obedient girl. The beast inside me growled again. When the moon is full, obedience isn’t enough. I can fuck a woman any night. What the beast craved was complete control. The beast craved humiliation. The beast would be satisfied with nothing less than breaking her completely. It was just who we were.
“Take off your coat, and give me your blouse,” I said.
Jennifer smiled. Without any complaint, she took off her blouse and handed it to me. The street lamps bathed her topless body in yellow light. Her breasts were truly magnificent. Large and plump, they were two perfect moons. I couldn’t wait to mark them.
“I live upstairs,” I told her. “Apartment 301, if you look up, you’ll see me go in at the top of the stairs. I’m going to go first, and when you see me enter, you’ll count to 100. Only then can you come up to my door. I will decide then whether I will let you in.”
“Like this?” Jennifer asked. She was pointing at her lovely breasts. A new scent came from her pussy. It was strong and pungent with fear and desire.
I fought the urge to fuck her right here. “You have your instructions.”
I got out of the car with her clothes. Slowly, I walked up the stairs. The beast twisted inside me. The moon makes so many demands. I want sex, but I want cruelty, too. I want to fuck now, but even more than that, I want my prey to suffer. What I crave requires patience, and on these nights, I have so little. Jennifer might complain, but she had no idea how much more it hurts me.
I reached my door and looked over the landing rail. Jennifer was still there. She was covering her tits, but that was OK. The cold, brisk air would remind her of her nakedness.
The door opened, and I threw her clothes on the floor. Once the door was closed, I put my head against it. I tried to slow my breathing. The beast was screaming, but I made him wait. The cunt would be all the sweeter.
Just because I couldn’t see Jennifer didn’t mean I couldn’t tell where she was. Part of it was from her smell. Now that I had her scent, I could smell her need from the parking lot. I could smell the sex and the almost-paralyzing terror she was feeling. What I’d asked of her was too much, but it came from what I smelled of her. I had made a request straight out of her deepest desires. Now she had to choose to give in to them.
I heard her on the stairs. It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn I heard her heavy breasts bouncing as she came up the stairs. Her gasps as she ran up were as clear as if she had been standing right next to me. She was shivering from the cold, but she was also shivering from the fear of someone seeing her. I knew she had her hands over her tits, but Jennifer’s tits were too big to be covered by her hands. The best she could do was cover her nipples and expose the rest of her jiggling breasts.
My mouth was almost drooling. I wanted to rush through the door and leap on her. It took everything I had not to fuck her outside on the stairs.
My cock ached. I moaned.
There was a knock at the door. I could smell her heat. She was terrified but so damned horny.
I didn’t answer.
There was another series of knocks, louder this time. Now she was really scared. Shivering outside my door, exposed and vulnerable, Jennifer doubted her choices this evening. She was also very wet.
I didn’t answer.
More knocks came. “Hello?” Jennifer said. It was cute the way she was trying to get my attention yet somehow be quiet enough to not get anyone else’s.
I heard her whimper. It was such a delicious, pitiful sound.
The beast could wait no more.
I opened the door. “Get in,” I growled.
Jennifer’s eyes were wide with fear. She saw him. She saw the beast in me, and I think she understood exactly what she was in for. Part of me wanted to scream at her to run. I wanted her to flee and get the hell out of what I had planned for her tonight.
But I knew that if she did run, the beast would chase her back down. Part of me, that sick, twisted part of me, wanted her to run just so I could drag her back here.
Jennifer came inside and sealed her fate.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Whatever Happened to the Unknown Character?
I was proofreading 'Cell Phone Slave' for the 1000th time. I want to publish it on LULU so that the story can be enjoyed in its intended format, one handed in your bed. The story is 9 years old to me and I see things in it that are like a time capsule from an earlier me.
One thing that surprised me was that I introduced a character and then push her off stage. When Amaya visits the fraternity, she sees this woman.
They passed a woman washing the floor. Amaya stared at her with disbelief. The woman was completely nude except for a thick leather collar. Long blond hair covered her face as she scrubbed the floor with a sponge. The woman’s ass was glowing from red paddle strikes, and Amaya knew from her limited experience that the woman had been spanked within the hour.
The woman looked up at them and smiled. Amaya couldn’t believe how mature the woman was. She looked like she was in her thirties. What was she doing here?
Mark dragged Amaya past the woman. Nick stopped for a moment and did something Amaya couldn’t see. She did hear the woman moan, though. A flash of jealousy surged through her, stronger than any fear she was feeling right now.
“Was that another of Wesley’s favors?” Amaya couldn’t believe how bitter her voice sounded.
Mark tightened his grip in Amaya’s hair. “Oh, no. That slut is our little project. We can’t live on Wesley’s tossed scraps alone.”
Oh yeah. I distinctly remember creating that character to create the impression that Amaya had entered into a living, breathing BDSM fantasy world that she was only glimpsing. As soon as I made this woman, I knew I wanted to tell her story. I made a mental note to come back to her.
Making mental notes is fine if you don't have a nervous breakdown, move to a different state and deal with an increasingly weirder marriage situation. I forgot about her. When I posted the story on my blog a few years ago I remembered her but had little interest in her.
Now though I am a bit more curious. The thing that strikes me about 'Cell Phone Slave' is that it is a coming of age story as much as it is a coming of slave story. Amaya is young and I think her story is believable because we all do crazy things when we are young. Now that I am older at the glorious old fart age of 36, I realize that men and women my age do even crazier things because we know better, and knowing better hasn't worked out so well for us.
I feel like I am in a fertile state of mind. It happens when I hit a dry spell. I come out of it overflowing with ideas. I have an idea for a horror novel while I am currently writing a novel about a bounty hunter and a private eye. I have a feeling that a story about a woman my age getting involved with a bunch of horny frat kids won't make it past the notebook stage. I suspect that I will forget all about her until I am reading that story again and I see her brief appearance.
Some erotic stories are best glimpsed.
One thing that surprised me was that I introduced a character and then push her off stage. When Amaya visits the fraternity, she sees this woman.
They passed a woman washing the floor. Amaya stared at her with disbelief. The woman was completely nude except for a thick leather collar. Long blond hair covered her face as she scrubbed the floor with a sponge. The woman’s ass was glowing from red paddle strikes, and Amaya knew from her limited experience that the woman had been spanked within the hour.
The woman looked up at them and smiled. Amaya couldn’t believe how mature the woman was. She looked like she was in her thirties. What was she doing here?
Mark dragged Amaya past the woman. Nick stopped for a moment and did something Amaya couldn’t see. She did hear the woman moan, though. A flash of jealousy surged through her, stronger than any fear she was feeling right now.
“Was that another of Wesley’s favors?” Amaya couldn’t believe how bitter her voice sounded.
Mark tightened his grip in Amaya’s hair. “Oh, no. That slut is our little project. We can’t live on Wesley’s tossed scraps alone.”
Oh yeah. I distinctly remember creating that character to create the impression that Amaya had entered into a living, breathing BDSM fantasy world that she was only glimpsing. As soon as I made this woman, I knew I wanted to tell her story. I made a mental note to come back to her.
Making mental notes is fine if you don't have a nervous breakdown, move to a different state and deal with an increasingly weirder marriage situation. I forgot about her. When I posted the story on my blog a few years ago I remembered her but had little interest in her.
Now though I am a bit more curious. The thing that strikes me about 'Cell Phone Slave' is that it is a coming of age story as much as it is a coming of slave story. Amaya is young and I think her story is believable because we all do crazy things when we are young. Now that I am older at the glorious old fart age of 36, I realize that men and women my age do even crazier things because we know better, and knowing better hasn't worked out so well for us.
I feel like I am in a fertile state of mind. It happens when I hit a dry spell. I come out of it overflowing with ideas. I have an idea for a horror novel while I am currently writing a novel about a bounty hunter and a private eye. I have a feeling that a story about a woman my age getting involved with a bunch of horny frat kids won't make it past the notebook stage. I suspect that I will forget all about her until I am reading that story again and I see her brief appearance.
Some erotic stories are best glimpsed.
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