Explorer’s Log: I am six days away from reaching the outer planets of the star system designated as Curl of the Queen’s Hair by the Royal Astronomers. During the last seven days, I have analyzed and transmitted the data I gathered from the last star system. With nothing left to transmit, I plan to spend the rest of my travel time exercising and maintaining the solar sails for optimal efficiency. End Explorer’s Log.
Explorer’s Personal Log: Six fucking more days to go and the plant dildo I was using broke yesterday. Six fucking days to go and all my vibrators have burned out. Six more fucking days to go and I have a cramp in my hand from masturbating. Today I am going to try to modify the exercise pod to power one of my vibrators. If I have to spend the rest of this trip just using my hand, I am going to go insane long before this twenty year mission is over. End Explorer’s Personal Log.
Vaquel Di brushed her pink hair out of her face and stretched. Alone on the Deep Space Probe, she hadn’t bothered to wear clothes today. She pumped some body lotion into her hands and began the work of rubbing it into her dark body. The lack of humidity in the Probe was taking some getting used to and Vaquel felt constantly dry. Well, her skin was dry but her cunt was always soaked.
“I have got to get the exercise pod modified today,” Vaquel said out loud. She smeared the lotion onto her large brown breasts. Her cunt responded with more heat.
“Fuck,” she said. It was more a statement of desire rather than annoyance. She was a Euphorian and if there was one thing her race loved more than anything, it was getting fucked.
Vaquel moved through the narrow corridor of the Probe and headed for the exercise pod. Energy was at a premium on this space ship. In order for one person to manage a space ship for twenty years, they had to use the simplest engine possible. The solar sails were easy to maintain and even easier to repair but the energy output was terribly low. The Probe had just enough power to get from star system to star system, run the exercise pod, the hygenics pod, the nutrient pod and the helm, but it left no energy for anything else. If Vaquel hooked up one of her vibrators to the solar sails, she risked draining the sails to the point that she would be stranded in space.
Vaquel had a plan. The exercise pod had a bicycle that used to tension springs to force the user to peddle harder. A few modifications and Vaquel planned to use those tension springs to generate a small amount of power. It would be just enough to activate one of her weaker vibrators but it would require her to keep cycling while it was turned on. Vaquel didn’t think that would be a problem. Her sexual frustration would supply her with an endless amount of power.
An hour later, Vaquel was ready to test her upgrades. She mounted the cycle and sat gently down on the vibrator sticking up from the seat. The delicious feeling of being penetrated flooded her body. If the vibrations didn’t work, the novelty of humping this seat would be a nice consolation prize.
Her feet pushed against the pedals. Immediately, the vibrator buzzed to life. The strength of the vibrations was a pleasant surprise and Vaquel stopping pedaling for a split second. The vibrations instantly ceased.
“This is going to be a workout,” she muttered.
She gripped the handlebars and pedaled. Her fit dark legs pumped the pedals while the vibrator buzzed inside her. She had an urge to hump the vibrator but it was too awkward to hump and pedal at the same time. The explorer just had to be satisfied with what she had.
Vaquel closed her eyes and imagined her last good fucks. When she found out that she had been selected for the Deep Space Probe program, she knew that she might never see any of her ex-boyfriends ever again. It was a perfect excuse to visit each of them and fuck them one last time.
She remembered Walgo and his impressive tongue. He was a thief and an abuser of far too many drugs but by the Queen, could he eat a cunt like no one else. Vaquel rode his face one last time before sucking him off.
Vaquel pedaled faster.
She remembered Ivok and his scarred chest. He was a savage soldier for the Queen’s army and every time they had sex, he nearly choked her to death with his powerful hands. It was worth the risk and the neck bruises afterwards just to have him fuck her like an enemy one last time.
Vaquel moaned and pedaled faster.
She remembered Darn and his mansion. The man was so much older than her and so filthy wealthy but he wanted to make her just another possession and Vaquel had higher aspirations. He was happy to use her one last time and Vaquel trembled as she thought of him fucking her on his expensive rugs.
Vaquel bit her lip and pedaled faster.
She remembered Kennic and his massive cock. He was dumber than a boot but the man was a life support system for the greatest cock she had ever fucked. He didn’t understand that she would be away for twenty years but it didn’t stop him from taking her three times. The time he took her ass nearly split her apart but it was so fucking worth it.
Vaquel clenched the vibrator and pedaled faster.
She remembered Bictor. Oh, that bastard. She loved him and he loved her but he had the chance to marry that video whore, Jinna Ose and Vaquel didn’t stand a chance. Bictor became the bed toy of a famous media star and Vaquel joined the Deep Space Probe program. Vaquel hated him. She despised his betrayal. She had to have him one more time.
Vaquel pedaled faster with a mixture of rage and lust. The vibrator roared between her legs. Her wet cunt clenched tightly around the hard plastic.
She remembered Bictor’s eyes when he fucked her. He had the look of someone who regretted his decision. He kept trying to tell her something but she would gag him with her tongue, her breast or her cunt. Vaquel didn’t want to hear his side. She wanted to use him and say goodbye.
The bastard.
“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel cried out. Her orgasm shook her body. Her legs stopped pedaling but that was all right. Vaquel was vibrating from the aftershocks of her orgasm.
Vaquel rested her head on the handlebars. She felt good. Her cunt clenched around the quiet vibrator. She had some ideas on how to improve the vibrator. Maybe she could add some sort of nipple enhancer.
The next six days weren’t going to be so bad after all.
.JPG)
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Dirty Books: Bukkake Brawl
Bukkake Brawl is a violent sexpunk book written by Made in DNA. Filthy, perverse, cruel, and fast as lightning, this book chronicles the adventures of Mei, a sort of sexual gladiator who fights horny perverts with her body was the prize. In short, if she loses, she gets fucked. If she is lucky, she will be unconscious during it.
In an already awful futuristic dystopia, things take a turn for the worse when Mei's sister is raped to death by a midget with an enhanced elephant cock. Mei's only care in the world is revenge although it would also be nice if she can avoid the Hugo Chavez clones that are trying to kill her, as well as countless other enemies that want to rape and kill her just because she is there.
The paradoxical thing about all of this is that this is a really fun book. It takes place on a floating city where sex and violence has been pimped for every nickel and dime but at it's heart it is an action book. Sex is discussed in every other line but there really isn't any sex scenes in an erotic sense. It is a book of violence. People get hurt and maimed with a frequency that puts most horror books to shame. The extremes of the world turn it into a satire. Instead of a serious soul crushing book where you despair for Mei's slavery, it becomes a surreal hostile environment that Mei kicks, punches and cripples her way through.
It is stunning how many ideas are in this book. Many writers, myself included, would have been satisfied invented the Bukkake Brawl rules and leave it at that. This author went to town on so many different perversions that I couldn't track. It is escapism fiction with a ton of creativity and sexual exploitation taken to the extreme like only science fiction can go.
I should take a moment and discuss one of the oddest qualities of this book. It is written in tweets. I'll show you.
The crowd roared—the spittle from their frothing muzzles creating a fine mist that mixed with the blood from the cut above Mei’s left eye.
The cut burned with a maddening man-made piss-crackle fire. Was the jackhole in front of her hopped up on Accelerated NanoHerpes!?
She body-slammed him and placed his nuts in a crusher hold that took him out of the match. Better safe than sorry.
ANH wasn’t illegal, but it puckered her sphincter nonetheless. Bukkake Brawl rules: no traditional weapons. Otherwise, have at.
I'll be honest, I kind of hated it at first. I found it weird to stop-go, stop-go like that. About ten pages in, I didn't notice it anymore. In time, I started to really appreciate it. It gives you bite sized information to digest, which when it comes to science fiction and fantasy, you need those pauses to help digest the new information. It also weirdly fits the world. These characters live and die in seconds and rarely plan for the long term. By forcing the reader to consume information in this manner, I felt like the author was reformatting the reader. That is not a bad thing.
Bukkake Brawl comes with three short stories. Of these, Media Whores is fascinating and meaty while the other two are lovely short flights of fancy.
You can purchase Bukkake Brawl as an ebook from amazon
I give it Five out of Five Pam Griers
Friday, August 26, 2011
Letter to a Slut #3
My Dearest Slut,
This weekend I shall grant you the gift of six words.
Pinch
Slap
Kiss
Bite
Finger
Fuck
Before you come to my apartment, write these six words any where you wish on your body in green marker. Where you place the word, is where you shall receive the gift. If you want me to slap your tits, just write ‘Slap’ across your tits.
Keep in mind my slut, that the word is all you shall receive. If you write pinch on your tits, then I won’t pinch your ass during sex. If you write slap across your ass, I won’t slap your face. If you write kiss beside your lips, I won’t kiss your nipples. If you write bite on your nipples, then I won’t bite your thighs. If you write finger beside your cunt, then I won’t finger your ass. If you write fuck across your ass, then I won’t fuck that eager mouth of yours.
You will be punished for poor penmanship.
You will be punished for any words that are unreadable.
You will be used in accordance to the words that you have chosen.
Choose wisely. It will be a long weekend.
This weekend I shall grant you the gift of six words.
Pinch
Slap
Kiss
Bite
Finger
Fuck
Before you come to my apartment, write these six words any where you wish on your body in green marker. Where you place the word, is where you shall receive the gift. If you want me to slap your tits, just write ‘Slap’ across your tits.
Keep in mind my slut, that the word is all you shall receive. If you write pinch on your tits, then I won’t pinch your ass during sex. If you write slap across your ass, I won’t slap your face. If you write kiss beside your lips, I won’t kiss your nipples. If you write bite on your nipples, then I won’t bite your thighs. If you write finger beside your cunt, then I won’t finger your ass. If you write fuck across your ass, then I won’t fuck that eager mouth of yours.
You will be punished for poor penmanship.
You will be punished for any words that are unreadable.
You will be used in accordance to the words that you have chosen.
Choose wisely. It will be a long weekend.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Fiction: Forgiveness
“Please,” Claire said.
Mr. Dillon ignored her.
Claire Currie was a librarian for the exclusive Ashbee-Collette Collection. Today her duties included creating a catalog for erotic books purchased yesterday, arranging transportation to a book store and evaluating a batch of books before her boss, Mr. Dillon, purchased them. Right now her duty was masturbating Mr. Dillon as they lied on their hotel bed and quite frankly, Claire was grateful that she was even allowed to do that after today’s mistake.
“I am truly sorry, Mr. Dillon,” Claire said. She emphasized her British accent because she knew he responded well to it.
“Hmm,” Mr. Dillon said noncommittally. He may have been dismissing her apology, or he was reacting to her nimble fingers around his cock. It was hard for Claire to tell. He kept reading one of the books they had purchased. It was entitled “Easy Office Girl.”
Claire sighed. Mr. Dillon was nude and the picture of relaxation. Claire was fully clothed in her librarian’s uniform. She propped her self up on one elbow while her right hand stroked his cock. Stockings clad her dark legs as they draped over Mr. Dillon’s white legs. Her black skirt pressed against his hip as she pushed her crotch to him. Since today was Wednesday, Claire’s panties were white but if anyone were to inspect them, they would find that Claire’s sex had soaked them with her desire. She wore a white bottom down blouse that she had opened so her generous dark cleavage was on display. If Mr. Dillon would just turn his head, he would see her round mounds about to fall out of her white lace bra.
Mr. Dillon kept reading.
Claire stroked him as she was instructed. After a long day of purchasing porn, they usually had sex. Mr. Dillon would inflict some terrible passionate act upon her and Claire would climax in so many delightful ways. Today however, he was pissed and the only thing he required of her was her fingers.
It was torture. The cock that had pleasured her cunt, her ass and her mouth was now only permitting her fingers to stroke him. She almost would prefer if he didn’t fuck her at all. Instead, he was having her manipulate the one thing that she couldn’t have.
“I should have been more careful,” Claire said. “I would never recommend purchasing that book if I knew that a single page was missing, much less three.”
Mr. Dillon didn’t reply but he did frown.
“I should have been more careful when appraising a book before recommending that you purchase it,” Claire said. “In the future, I will confirm that every book has all of its pages intact.”
“You are getting dry,” Mr. Dillon replied.
Claire removed her hand. She stuck out her tongue and licked her hand. The young librarian made sure her hand was nice and slick before wrapping it back around her boss’s cock.
“My pussy never gets dry,” Claire said. “I could lift my skirt and mount you, sir. It would be my pleasure.”
Mr. Dillon turned the page of his book and ignored her.
Claire caught herself grinding against Mr. Dillon’s hip. He didn’t complain but Claire was terrified of her humping interrupting his reading.
“I know my mistake cost the Collection twenty-five dollars and I want you to take that amount out of my pay,” Claire said. “I know that every bit of money is precious.”
Mr. Dillon ignored her.
“In fact, I think you should take that twenty-five dollars out of my ass in any manner you feel is appropriate,” Claire said. Of course, the nature of her employment meant her ass, as well as her breasts, cheeks and soles of her feet were available to be spanked, flogged or slapped at Mr. Dillon’s discretion at any time, but Claire knew that Mr. Dillon liked to be invited.
Claire’s hand pumped Mr. Dillon’s cock. It throbbed in her hand. There was so much heat from his hardness. Claire moaned as she thought about that heat going to waste in her hands instead of inside her.
“Please sir,” Claire said. “If you will not punish my ass or use my cunt, then please let me make it up to you with my mouth. I can either lick you slow and sensual or you may fuck my face if it pleases you. I just want to make you come in the manner that would give you the most pleasure, sir.”
“Mmm,” Mr. Dillon said. He might have reached a good part of his book.
Claire tipped her head so that her glasses could slide down her nose slightly. She understood his personal fetishes. Too bad he wouldn’t turn his head.
“Please sir,” she said. “I am terribly sorry. I will take precautions to prevent it from ever happening again. Let me please you. Since I failed at one duty, let me show you how good I can be in other duties.”
Mr. Dillon turned the page.
She was about to say something else when his cock pulsed in her hands. His hips did a subtle thrust into her hand. Claire turned her attention away from the wet heat between her thighs and focused on the girth in her hand. She had been given her orders and she knew it was a punishment. Perhaps she should spend less time begging and more time doing what she had been asked to do.
Claire added a half twist to her stroking. She let her thumb slip over the tip of his cock with each stroke. She loosened her grip so that her hand could slide faster over him. Her fingernails glided over the veins of his cock.
Mr. Dillon was breathing harder.
Without asking, Claire pulled her shirt open. She leaned closer so that the brown globe of her breast was inches from her boss’s face. Claire offered herself but she did not beg.
Mr. Dillon turned his head and opened his mouth. The white lace bra held the bottom half of her breast but the top half was there for him. He bit. He licked. He buried his face in her breasts.
Claire’s sex was soaked with new desire. She ignored it. She kept her attention on her balance so that Mr. Dillon would nibble her breast to his heart’s delight. She focused on her hand, gripping just a little tighter and going a little faster over his cock.
He would come. He would spill his white seed onto her dark hands and that would be it. She would clean him up and then he would leave her alone to tend to herself. Claire would masturbate alone and Mr. Dillon wouldn’t even watch.
Claire accepted that. She had made a mistake. It was what she deserved.
She stroked faster.
Mr. Dillon growled. He released her breast with his teeth. His head flopped back down onto the pillow and he thrust his hips upwards. He was close.
Claire was surprised when she felt his hand go to the back of her head. She was more surprised when he pushed her head towards his cock. Her owns needs were forgotten as she sought to appease him.
The young librarian was as quick as a cat. The bed creaked as she moved onto him. In the time of a single stroke, she slipped his cock into her mouth. Her plump breasts pressed into his lap as her hungry lips swallow his cock.
Claire moaned as the first splash of seed filled her mouth. It tasted like forgiveness.
Mr. Dillon ignored her.
Claire Currie was a librarian for the exclusive Ashbee-Collette Collection. Today her duties included creating a catalog for erotic books purchased yesterday, arranging transportation to a book store and evaluating a batch of books before her boss, Mr. Dillon, purchased them. Right now her duty was masturbating Mr. Dillon as they lied on their hotel bed and quite frankly, Claire was grateful that she was even allowed to do that after today’s mistake.
“I am truly sorry, Mr. Dillon,” Claire said. She emphasized her British accent because she knew he responded well to it.
“Hmm,” Mr. Dillon said noncommittally. He may have been dismissing her apology, or he was reacting to her nimble fingers around his cock. It was hard for Claire to tell. He kept reading one of the books they had purchased. It was entitled “Easy Office Girl.”
Claire sighed. Mr. Dillon was nude and the picture of relaxation. Claire was fully clothed in her librarian’s uniform. She propped her self up on one elbow while her right hand stroked his cock. Stockings clad her dark legs as they draped over Mr. Dillon’s white legs. Her black skirt pressed against his hip as she pushed her crotch to him. Since today was Wednesday, Claire’s panties were white but if anyone were to inspect them, they would find that Claire’s sex had soaked them with her desire. She wore a white bottom down blouse that she had opened so her generous dark cleavage was on display. If Mr. Dillon would just turn his head, he would see her round mounds about to fall out of her white lace bra.
Mr. Dillon kept reading.
Claire stroked him as she was instructed. After a long day of purchasing porn, they usually had sex. Mr. Dillon would inflict some terrible passionate act upon her and Claire would climax in so many delightful ways. Today however, he was pissed and the only thing he required of her was her fingers.
It was torture. The cock that had pleasured her cunt, her ass and her mouth was now only permitting her fingers to stroke him. She almost would prefer if he didn’t fuck her at all. Instead, he was having her manipulate the one thing that she couldn’t have.
“I should have been more careful,” Claire said. “I would never recommend purchasing that book if I knew that a single page was missing, much less three.”
Mr. Dillon didn’t reply but he did frown.
“I should have been more careful when appraising a book before recommending that you purchase it,” Claire said. “In the future, I will confirm that every book has all of its pages intact.”
“You are getting dry,” Mr. Dillon replied.
Claire removed her hand. She stuck out her tongue and licked her hand. The young librarian made sure her hand was nice and slick before wrapping it back around her boss’s cock.
“My pussy never gets dry,” Claire said. “I could lift my skirt and mount you, sir. It would be my pleasure.”
Mr. Dillon turned the page of his book and ignored her.
Claire caught herself grinding against Mr. Dillon’s hip. He didn’t complain but Claire was terrified of her humping interrupting his reading.
“I know my mistake cost the Collection twenty-five dollars and I want you to take that amount out of my pay,” Claire said. “I know that every bit of money is precious.”
Mr. Dillon ignored her.
“In fact, I think you should take that twenty-five dollars out of my ass in any manner you feel is appropriate,” Claire said. Of course, the nature of her employment meant her ass, as well as her breasts, cheeks and soles of her feet were available to be spanked, flogged or slapped at Mr. Dillon’s discretion at any time, but Claire knew that Mr. Dillon liked to be invited.
Claire’s hand pumped Mr. Dillon’s cock. It throbbed in her hand. There was so much heat from his hardness. Claire moaned as she thought about that heat going to waste in her hands instead of inside her.
“Please sir,” Claire said. “If you will not punish my ass or use my cunt, then please let me make it up to you with my mouth. I can either lick you slow and sensual or you may fuck my face if it pleases you. I just want to make you come in the manner that would give you the most pleasure, sir.”
“Mmm,” Mr. Dillon said. He might have reached a good part of his book.
Claire tipped her head so that her glasses could slide down her nose slightly. She understood his personal fetishes. Too bad he wouldn’t turn his head.
“Please sir,” she said. “I am terribly sorry. I will take precautions to prevent it from ever happening again. Let me please you. Since I failed at one duty, let me show you how good I can be in other duties.”
Mr. Dillon turned the page.
She was about to say something else when his cock pulsed in her hands. His hips did a subtle thrust into her hand. Claire turned her attention away from the wet heat between her thighs and focused on the girth in her hand. She had been given her orders and she knew it was a punishment. Perhaps she should spend less time begging and more time doing what she had been asked to do.
Claire added a half twist to her stroking. She let her thumb slip over the tip of his cock with each stroke. She loosened her grip so that her hand could slide faster over him. Her fingernails glided over the veins of his cock.
Mr. Dillon was breathing harder.
Without asking, Claire pulled her shirt open. She leaned closer so that the brown globe of her breast was inches from her boss’s face. Claire offered herself but she did not beg.
Mr. Dillon turned his head and opened his mouth. The white lace bra held the bottom half of her breast but the top half was there for him. He bit. He licked. He buried his face in her breasts.
Claire’s sex was soaked with new desire. She ignored it. She kept her attention on her balance so that Mr. Dillon would nibble her breast to his heart’s delight. She focused on her hand, gripping just a little tighter and going a little faster over his cock.
He would come. He would spill his white seed onto her dark hands and that would be it. She would clean him up and then he would leave her alone to tend to herself. Claire would masturbate alone and Mr. Dillon wouldn’t even watch.
Claire accepted that. She had made a mistake. It was what she deserved.
She stroked faster.
Mr. Dillon growled. He released her breast with his teeth. His head flopped back down onto the pillow and he thrust his hips upwards. He was close.
Claire was surprised when she felt his hand go to the back of her head. She was more surprised when he pushed her head towards his cock. Her owns needs were forgotten as she sought to appease him.
The young librarian was as quick as a cat. The bed creaked as she moved onto him. In the time of a single stroke, she slipped his cock into her mouth. Her plump breasts pressed into his lap as her hungry lips swallow his cock.
Claire moaned as the first splash of seed filled her mouth. It tasted like forgiveness.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Regardng a Certain Almanac
Writing the Farmer's Daughter's Almanac is like trying to fill a bottomless pit. I can crank out five articles in a week and I still feel like I have hundred of pages to fill. Which I do actually. Writing a humorous erotica reference book of fictional facts means that I have no outline or plot. There is no real structure because most reference books are insane mosh pits of information. To recreate that, I have to throw out structure.
The side effect of not having structure is that I rarely feel any sort of progress. I wrote a funny as hell article about fetish farms and although I was really proud of the article, it is a fleeting feeling of accomplishment because I still have a hundred more ideas to go.
Praise the writing gods for the contributions some of you have sent in. Holy crap, when I am at my most dejected, I read through your entries and laugh. This is ultimately a book about silliness and I am so glad that others have embraced it.
This is my round about way of suggesting to you that you never ever try to write a fictional reference book. Don't do it. It is a pain in the ass. No wait, it is like a pain in the ass with all too brief moments of orgasm. All too brief.
Paradoxically, I have a theme in mind for a different almanac for 2013. I must like the pain in the ass.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Fiction: First Landing
Explorer’s Log: I have just landed on the second planet in the star system designated Queen’s Left Foot by Royal Astronomers. Initial scans show an active floral biosphere and limited animal life. I am currently looking for any promising vegetation that I can report back to Navy Command. End Explorer’s Log.
Explorer’s Personal Log: Fuck, this planet is green. It has been seven months since I last seen humanoid life. I am beginning to understand why so few people volunteer for Explorer Probe duty. I am not sure if I can twenty more years of traveling by myself. I am horny enough to fuck a Herranian Slug. Oh well, maybe I can find something that I can use as a dildo on this planet. I’ve worn out the ones I packed. End Explorer’s Personal Log.”
Deep Space Probe Explorer Vaquel Di turned off her log. Before she put it back in her belt, she decided to go ahead and get a self-image. She set the log recorded on a stump and stepped out from under the shade so the sun would illuminate her in a heroic manner.
Vaquel knew she would look good. The skintight purple environment suit she wore clung to every curve and muscle of her body. The seven month trip to this part of space had given her plenty of time to work out in the Probe Ship’s exercise pod. Her muscles were tight and her ass had never looked firmer. The glasssteel helmet was nothing more than an invincible bubble on her head, and she had spent a good half hour making sure her short purple hair was immaculate. Her dark brown skin would soak in the sun and contrast nicely with the green around her.
“Log Recorder, record image for archives.”
Vaquel cried out as she was pulled to the ground. She tried to kick with her feet but something was wrapped around her leg. She fell in some bushes and red leaves obscured her view helmet. Something wrapped around her right hand and the damn leaves prevented from seeing what it was.
“Unhand me at once!” Vaquel yelled. She knew the chances of being understood by whatever had grabbed her were remote but she was yelling in anger. This was her first time touching down on a planet as a Probe Explorer and she was appalled at being attacked already.
Whatever had her pulled her up out of the bushes. The red leaves fell away from her glassteel bubble that encased her head. Free to finally look at what had her, she was not happy with what she saw.
Long green vines had wrapped around both her legs and her right hand. The vines seemed to come from different trees but they were working together as they lifted her from the ground and brought her to a large yellow flower.
“Shit, sentient plant life,” Vaquel cursed. Intelligent plants were notoriously hard to communicate with and even harder to exploit for the Queen’s pleasure. Not only was Vaquel on a hostile planet, but she was on a planet that would serve little interest to Navy command, meaning she would receive no compensation for discovering this world.
The vines held her above the yellow flower. The flower was two meters in diameter. Vaquel watched as the flower slowly turned to face her. Vaquel couldn’t see any sort of sensory organs on the flower but it was certainly pointed towards her.
She had no desire to find out what would happen next. With her left hand, she reached for her utility belt. The Royal Navy made sure their Probe Explorers could handle themselves. Nimble fingers skipped past the neurotoxin, the fragmentation capsules and the plasma pistol. She felt the handle to her vibration blade and smiled. This would fuck the vines up.
A click of a button and the blade vibrated at a thousand pulses per second. Vaquel swung it at the vine wrapped around her right hand and the blade cut through it like it was medical gel.
She didn’t account for the vine that was holding her hand was also holding her upright. Her top half swung down while the vines still held onto her legs. As she recovered from the sudden change in orientation, more vines moved into action. Powerful vines wrapped around both arms and coiled from her wrist to her shoulders. Other vines wrapped around her chest and squeezed. Vaquel cried out as her large breasts were crushed against her chest.
“Queen’s tit!” Vaquel cursed.
She heard more vines rustling. Vaquel was upside down and her head was inches from the ground. The yellow flower was still looking at her, but it appeared to be aimed at between her legs. The thought made Vaquel smile.
“You should see how good I look outside my suit,” she said. “Shit, I am getting stress happy. I’m flirting with a plant.”
There was pulling and tugging at her suit between her legs. Vaquel watched in horror as vines with thorns rubbed against her crotch. Environmental warnings flashed on her helmet as the vines worked away at the suit’s material.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Vaquel yelled. She struggled harder. Powerful muscles pulled against the vines but she wasn’t strong enough. The vines held onto her.
The vines tore the crotch out of her environmental suit. She felt fresh air on the thick bush of her sex. Vaquel tried to remember what the air quality reports had said on the Probe Ship. How long did she have before terminal poisoning? An hour? Less?
Something pushed against her sex. Vaquel forgot all about air quality reports as something thick and smooth pushed against the lips of her sex. She pushed her hips against the intrusion before she realized what she was doing.
“No way am I getting fucked by a plant!” Vaquel said.
The plants ignored her. The thickness slipped into her. Vaquel cried out as she was filled in such a glorious manner. It might be plant based, but it was smooth, hard and so form fitting. Vaquel was finding it harder to protest.
“This is not unheard of,” Vaquel muttered to herself. “The plants of King’s Hip Seven were known to respond to cocks pressed against their petals. By the Queen that felt good! Also, oh yes . . . oh . . .uh . . .the trees of Queen’s Little Toe Three were said to drop their nuts right into a woman’s sex. Oh, oh, right there! Plant/humanoid sex is not understood but some plants seem drawn to it.”
The thickness slipped deeper inside her. Then it grew, inflating inside her and stretching her with delicious girth. Vaquel’s eyes clenched tight as the pressure grew and grew. It was a fucking plant, not a person. For all Vaquel knew, this was how the plant killed prey to feast on the nutrients of its prey. Worse, it might split her apart and she hadn’t even climaxed yet.
“Bastard!” Vaquel snarled. The growing stopped. She was still upside down and she was still impaled on a monstrous vine but she was alive. For now. It might start growing again any second. Hell, it might try to get deeper inside her which at this point it would start doing serious internal damage.
“Not like this!” Vaquel swore. She would be damned if she was going to die here and have her corpse examined by the next Deep Probe Explorer who came by this way. Fucked to death by a plant vine was not what she wanted her permanent record to show.
Vaquel struggled. She wiggled. There was a method to her panic. The explorer realized that her suit was torn and now that it had been penetrated, the structural integrity of the entire suit would soon degrade. She needed to tear it all.
The vines held on tight but that helped her. Rips appeared in her sleeves. The legs of her pants were torn asunder. The vines squeezed tighter around her chest and her breasts were pushed down to the ground as the material of her shirt was left behind.
The helmet fell off her face and she knew she was close. With a heroic wiggle, she fell out of her suit and the vines clamped around the empty remains of her suit.
There was still the matter of the vine inside her sex. It thrashed inside her. Vaquel kicked at it with her dark legs but the vine was going nowhere. She reached for her fallen utility belt and pulled the first thing that she could get her fingers around.
It was an incendiary tablet. One hard throw and it would release flaming death. It was not an ideal weapon for when one was naked.
Vaquel didn’t hesitate for a second. She threw the tablet at the yellow flower. Flames exploded from the impact. Streams of flame shot out in all directions. Vaquel ducked as a fireball narrowly missed her face.
The vines went crazy. There was no sound but the thrashing of the vines were as good as screams. Her suit fell around her as the vines that used to hold her retreated and flailed madly.
The same could not be said for the vine inside her. It was in a panic. Instead of simply pulling out, the vine was lashing madly while still inside her. It bruised her thighs with the power of its thrashing.
Vaquel had an answer for that too. As the flower burned and the flames caught on new plants, Vaquel reached for the plasma pistol. She grabbed the wine with one hand and pointed the pistol between her legs. A single shot severed the vine with the power of a small sun.
Now it was time to get the fuck out of here. Vaquel stumbled to her feet. She reached between her legs and gave a yank. The vine tip came out of her wet sex. She was about to throw it away when she thought better of it. She held onto it and grabbed her utility belt with her other hand. Vaquel slapped the belt to her waist and the belt automatically wrapped itself around her dark nude body.
Vaquel ran. As the flames spread around her, she headed for her log recorder. She snatched it up and ran for her ship.
Deep Probe Ship #49 was waiting for her. The door opened for her automatically when it sensed her biorythym. She collapsed inside the door and took a deep breathe of safe recycled air. She was safe.
The vine pulsed in her hand. Vaquel laughed. Her sex was pulsing too.
Vaquel plunged the vine tip between her dark thighs. She cried out as she entered herself under much safer circumstances. The terror of her ordeal was obliterated by the need of the moment.
And Vaquel had so much need. Seven months alone. The thrill of death. The triumph of victory. Vaquel stroked herself with the vine tip. She plunged it inside her with a fierce passion.
As exhausted as she was, she found the energy to turn her masturbation into fucking. Lying on her back, she lifted her hips with each thrust. Her purple hair was in her face and she bit one of her strands of hair. She grabbed one of her dark breasts and squeezed it much harder than the vines had. Vaquel fucked the vine tip like she was pissed at it.
Vaquel climaxed. She screamed her pleasure. The scream echoed through her empty ship.
Explorer’s Log: First survey ended with an encounter with hostile plants. A groups of vine attempted forced sexual intercourse. I am sending coordinates for future Conquest Ships to continue surveys. I recommend that sexually assaulting plants be cultivated for the Queen’s use in punishment and amusement. End Explorer’s Log.
Explorer’s Personal Log: Well, I nearly got killed but the good news is I also got fucked. I even have a new dildo to last me till I reach the next planet. I think I am getting the hang of deep space exploration. End Explorer’s Personal Log.”
Explorer’s Personal Log: Fuck, this planet is green. It has been seven months since I last seen humanoid life. I am beginning to understand why so few people volunteer for Explorer Probe duty. I am not sure if I can twenty more years of traveling by myself. I am horny enough to fuck a Herranian Slug. Oh well, maybe I can find something that I can use as a dildo on this planet. I’ve worn out the ones I packed. End Explorer’s Personal Log.”
Deep Space Probe Explorer Vaquel Di turned off her log. Before she put it back in her belt, she decided to go ahead and get a self-image. She set the log recorded on a stump and stepped out from under the shade so the sun would illuminate her in a heroic manner.
Vaquel knew she would look good. The skintight purple environment suit she wore clung to every curve and muscle of her body. The seven month trip to this part of space had given her plenty of time to work out in the Probe Ship’s exercise pod. Her muscles were tight and her ass had never looked firmer. The glasssteel helmet was nothing more than an invincible bubble on her head, and she had spent a good half hour making sure her short purple hair was immaculate. Her dark brown skin would soak in the sun and contrast nicely with the green around her.
“Log Recorder, record image for archives.”
Vaquel cried out as she was pulled to the ground. She tried to kick with her feet but something was wrapped around her leg. She fell in some bushes and red leaves obscured her view helmet. Something wrapped around her right hand and the damn leaves prevented from seeing what it was.
“Unhand me at once!” Vaquel yelled. She knew the chances of being understood by whatever had grabbed her were remote but she was yelling in anger. This was her first time touching down on a planet as a Probe Explorer and she was appalled at being attacked already.
Whatever had her pulled her up out of the bushes. The red leaves fell away from her glassteel bubble that encased her head. Free to finally look at what had her, she was not happy with what she saw.
Long green vines had wrapped around both her legs and her right hand. The vines seemed to come from different trees but they were working together as they lifted her from the ground and brought her to a large yellow flower.
“Shit, sentient plant life,” Vaquel cursed. Intelligent plants were notoriously hard to communicate with and even harder to exploit for the Queen’s pleasure. Not only was Vaquel on a hostile planet, but she was on a planet that would serve little interest to Navy command, meaning she would receive no compensation for discovering this world.
The vines held her above the yellow flower. The flower was two meters in diameter. Vaquel watched as the flower slowly turned to face her. Vaquel couldn’t see any sort of sensory organs on the flower but it was certainly pointed towards her.
She had no desire to find out what would happen next. With her left hand, she reached for her utility belt. The Royal Navy made sure their Probe Explorers could handle themselves. Nimble fingers skipped past the neurotoxin, the fragmentation capsules and the plasma pistol. She felt the handle to her vibration blade and smiled. This would fuck the vines up.
A click of a button and the blade vibrated at a thousand pulses per second. Vaquel swung it at the vine wrapped around her right hand and the blade cut through it like it was medical gel.
She didn’t account for the vine that was holding her hand was also holding her upright. Her top half swung down while the vines still held onto her legs. As she recovered from the sudden change in orientation, more vines moved into action. Powerful vines wrapped around both arms and coiled from her wrist to her shoulders. Other vines wrapped around her chest and squeezed. Vaquel cried out as her large breasts were crushed against her chest.
“Queen’s tit!” Vaquel cursed.
She heard more vines rustling. Vaquel was upside down and her head was inches from the ground. The yellow flower was still looking at her, but it appeared to be aimed at between her legs. The thought made Vaquel smile.
“You should see how good I look outside my suit,” she said. “Shit, I am getting stress happy. I’m flirting with a plant.”
There was pulling and tugging at her suit between her legs. Vaquel watched in horror as vines with thorns rubbed against her crotch. Environmental warnings flashed on her helmet as the vines worked away at the suit’s material.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Vaquel yelled. She struggled harder. Powerful muscles pulled against the vines but she wasn’t strong enough. The vines held onto her.
The vines tore the crotch out of her environmental suit. She felt fresh air on the thick bush of her sex. Vaquel tried to remember what the air quality reports had said on the Probe Ship. How long did she have before terminal poisoning? An hour? Less?
Something pushed against her sex. Vaquel forgot all about air quality reports as something thick and smooth pushed against the lips of her sex. She pushed her hips against the intrusion before she realized what she was doing.
“No way am I getting fucked by a plant!” Vaquel said.
The plants ignored her. The thickness slipped into her. Vaquel cried out as she was filled in such a glorious manner. It might be plant based, but it was smooth, hard and so form fitting. Vaquel was finding it harder to protest.
“This is not unheard of,” Vaquel muttered to herself. “The plants of King’s Hip Seven were known to respond to cocks pressed against their petals. By the Queen that felt good! Also, oh yes . . . oh . . .uh . . .the trees of Queen’s Little Toe Three were said to drop their nuts right into a woman’s sex. Oh, oh, right there! Plant/humanoid sex is not understood but some plants seem drawn to it.”
The thickness slipped deeper inside her. Then it grew, inflating inside her and stretching her with delicious girth. Vaquel’s eyes clenched tight as the pressure grew and grew. It was a fucking plant, not a person. For all Vaquel knew, this was how the plant killed prey to feast on the nutrients of its prey. Worse, it might split her apart and she hadn’t even climaxed yet.
“Bastard!” Vaquel snarled. The growing stopped. She was still upside down and she was still impaled on a monstrous vine but she was alive. For now. It might start growing again any second. Hell, it might try to get deeper inside her which at this point it would start doing serious internal damage.
“Not like this!” Vaquel swore. She would be damned if she was going to die here and have her corpse examined by the next Deep Probe Explorer who came by this way. Fucked to death by a plant vine was not what she wanted her permanent record to show.
Vaquel struggled. She wiggled. There was a method to her panic. The explorer realized that her suit was torn and now that it had been penetrated, the structural integrity of the entire suit would soon degrade. She needed to tear it all.
The vines held on tight but that helped her. Rips appeared in her sleeves. The legs of her pants were torn asunder. The vines squeezed tighter around her chest and her breasts were pushed down to the ground as the material of her shirt was left behind.
The helmet fell off her face and she knew she was close. With a heroic wiggle, she fell out of her suit and the vines clamped around the empty remains of her suit.
There was still the matter of the vine inside her sex. It thrashed inside her. Vaquel kicked at it with her dark legs but the vine was going nowhere. She reached for her fallen utility belt and pulled the first thing that she could get her fingers around.
It was an incendiary tablet. One hard throw and it would release flaming death. It was not an ideal weapon for when one was naked.
Vaquel didn’t hesitate for a second. She threw the tablet at the yellow flower. Flames exploded from the impact. Streams of flame shot out in all directions. Vaquel ducked as a fireball narrowly missed her face.
The vines went crazy. There was no sound but the thrashing of the vines were as good as screams. Her suit fell around her as the vines that used to hold her retreated and flailed madly.
The same could not be said for the vine inside her. It was in a panic. Instead of simply pulling out, the vine was lashing madly while still inside her. It bruised her thighs with the power of its thrashing.
Vaquel had an answer for that too. As the flower burned and the flames caught on new plants, Vaquel reached for the plasma pistol. She grabbed the wine with one hand and pointed the pistol between her legs. A single shot severed the vine with the power of a small sun.
Now it was time to get the fuck out of here. Vaquel stumbled to her feet. She reached between her legs and gave a yank. The vine tip came out of her wet sex. She was about to throw it away when she thought better of it. She held onto it and grabbed her utility belt with her other hand. Vaquel slapped the belt to her waist and the belt automatically wrapped itself around her dark nude body.
Vaquel ran. As the flames spread around her, she headed for her log recorder. She snatched it up and ran for her ship.
Deep Probe Ship #49 was waiting for her. The door opened for her automatically when it sensed her biorythym. She collapsed inside the door and took a deep breathe of safe recycled air. She was safe.
The vine pulsed in her hand. Vaquel laughed. Her sex was pulsing too.
Vaquel plunged the vine tip between her dark thighs. She cried out as she entered herself under much safer circumstances. The terror of her ordeal was obliterated by the need of the moment.
And Vaquel had so much need. Seven months alone. The thrill of death. The triumph of victory. Vaquel stroked herself with the vine tip. She plunged it inside her with a fierce passion.
As exhausted as she was, she found the energy to turn her masturbation into fucking. Lying on her back, she lifted her hips with each thrust. Her purple hair was in her face and she bit one of her strands of hair. She grabbed one of her dark breasts and squeezed it much harder than the vines had. Vaquel fucked the vine tip like she was pissed at it.
Vaquel climaxed. She screamed her pleasure. The scream echoed through her empty ship.
Explorer’s Log: First survey ended with an encounter with hostile plants. A groups of vine attempted forced sexual intercourse. I am sending coordinates for future Conquest Ships to continue surveys. I recommend that sexually assaulting plants be cultivated for the Queen’s use in punishment and amusement. End Explorer’s Log.
Explorer’s Personal Log: Well, I nearly got killed but the good news is I also got fucked. I even have a new dildo to last me till I reach the next planet. I think I am getting the hang of deep space exploration. End Explorer’s Personal Log.”
Friday, August 12, 2011
Letter to a Slut #2
My Dearest Slut,
I have attached three pictures to this letter. These will be the paddles I will use to blister your ass this weekend.
Paddle #1 I bought at a bondage convention. The black wood is extremely unforgiving. The leather grip helps me swing that paddle for hours if I need to. The weight of the paddle means that it will impact on your ass with a solid thud that will knock you off your feet.
Lucky for you, I will be paddling you over my knees.
Paddle #2 is made of hickory. Take special notices of the holes that perforate this nasty tool. Those holes mean I will be able to swing it faster on your helpless ass. It also creates a nasty sound that will tell the neighbors exactly what is happening to you.
Paddle #3 is a cheap toy I bought I at the quickie mart. I have removed the ball and string. I chose it because it has that stupid looking cartoon girl on it that you hate so much. This is not a sex paddle for a sophisticated sex submissive; this is a toy appropriate for a brat and a child. Displease me this weekend and this is the only paddle that you will get.
When your ass is nice and red, when your ass is so tender that the slightest touch makes you jump, when you think you can’t take any more and I spank you for another ten minutes, when your cunt is so wet that you have soaked my knees, then I will fuck you.
I will fuck you on the floor. Your tender ass will find no comfort on the hardwood floor. You may come as much as you want with my cock in you.
When I come, I will roll you over onto your stomach and release my seed onto your ass. The heat of my come will blend with the heat on your ass.
When my seed dries on your ass, we will resume the spankings.
I have attached three pictures to this letter. These will be the paddles I will use to blister your ass this weekend.
Paddle #1 I bought at a bondage convention. The black wood is extremely unforgiving. The leather grip helps me swing that paddle for hours if I need to. The weight of the paddle means that it will impact on your ass with a solid thud that will knock you off your feet.
Lucky for you, I will be paddling you over my knees.
Paddle #2 is made of hickory. Take special notices of the holes that perforate this nasty tool. Those holes mean I will be able to swing it faster on your helpless ass. It also creates a nasty sound that will tell the neighbors exactly what is happening to you.
Paddle #3 is a cheap toy I bought I at the quickie mart. I have removed the ball and string. I chose it because it has that stupid looking cartoon girl on it that you hate so much. This is not a sex paddle for a sophisticated sex submissive; this is a toy appropriate for a brat and a child. Displease me this weekend and this is the only paddle that you will get.
When your ass is nice and red, when your ass is so tender that the slightest touch makes you jump, when you think you can’t take any more and I spank you for another ten minutes, when your cunt is so wet that you have soaked my knees, then I will fuck you.
I will fuck you on the floor. Your tender ass will find no comfort on the hardwood floor. You may come as much as you want with my cock in you.
When I come, I will roll you over onto your stomach and release my seed onto your ass. The heat of my come will blend with the heat on your ass.
When my seed dries on your ass, we will resume the spankings.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Fiction: Extra Credit
I was surprised when Mrs. Hartman insisted that I come by her classroom for the extra credit exam. I thought I had been doing well in Unknown Erotic Works 201 and I didn’t think my grades were in trouble. When Mrs. Hartman had announced the special test for extra credit, I thought I could skip it. Mrs. Hartman approached me after class and made it perfectly clear that I needed to attend.
Mrs. Hartman approaching me was all that was needed to make me show up. I had a crush on Mrs. Hartman, which wasn’t all that unusual at Eros University. We were the only university that I know of that has a student/teacher dance followed by a student/teacher slumber party at the sports center. A lot of students fuck their teachers here but I had it bad for Mrs. Hartman. Maybe it was because writing papers about lost works of erotica never presented an opportunity for sex in the class.
I walked into the class at my appointed time on a Saturday. Other students were enjoying morning orgies at the recreation center but I was attending class. I had no regrets. Some one on one time with Mrs. Hartmam, even in a test situation, was good enough for me.
My heart sank as I saw that we were not alone. There was a female student tied to Mrs. Hartman’s desk. She was on her back and completely naked, right down to the lack of pubic hair on her sex. The student was Asian, with lovely small breasts topped with erect nipples. Rope held down her wrists and ankles, spreading her indecently on the desk. Long black hair spilled over the edge of the desk. A gag covered her mouth but she moaned when she saw me. She wriggled with slutty desire against her bonds.
“Keith, I am so glad you took my advice,” Mrs. Hartman said.
I smiled weakly, afraid to say something silly. I was also embarrassed that I didn’t see her at first. She was opening the blinds to the windows and the sun bathed her in a radiant glow. Her fading blonde hair turned into an angel’s halo. Black glasses couldn’t hide her laughing eyes. Instead of her usual pantsuit, she was only wearing a red lace bra and matching red lace panties. She still wore heels though, which elevated her perfect ass to even greater heights.
“I want to make sure that I do the best work possible,” I said. Damn it, I ended up saying stupid after all.
Mrs. Hartman smiled as she walked back to her desk. “You always do excellent work, Keith. Your comments on Tolkein’s bondage trilogy were quite remarkable. I also thought you showed spectacular insight into Margaret Mitchell’s motives when she wrote ‘Brett’s Fancy Brother’.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hartman,” I said. I glanced towards the moaning female. “I take it that she didn’t do so well with the extra credit?”
Mrs. Hartman shook her head as she sat down at her desk. She brushed her finger against the student’s breast. The woman whimpered.
“No, Keith, she’s from another class,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I teach Self-Denial 101 and this little tramp did the best. She has managed to go an entire month without an orgasm and without the use of a chastity device. She has given twelve handjobs, nine blowjobs and fingered three women to orgasm in that time but she herself has not had even a finger inside her. Isn’t that true, Hiromi?”
Hiromi nodded vigorously.
“You see, Keith,” Mrs. Hartman explained, “your grades are excellent. I still think there is room for reward for good studying though, and sometimes we must look for credit outside of numerical values. Simply put, if you answer my three questions, then you may relieve Hiromi of her abstinence.”
Hirmoi moaned louder. I was glad because it covered the moan that came from my mouth.
“So far, five other students have tried this morning and failed,” she said. “Poor Hiromi here is about to die. If you fail, I’ll have to dismiss you and pleasure her myself.”
My cock throbbed at the thought if that.
“Now, Keith, please stand between Hiromi’s legs,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I want you to have a good view of what you are playing for.”
I took my place. I stood to the side of the desk and looked down on Hiromi’s waiting body. She looked up at me and lifter her hips towards me. Moisture glistened in her bare sex.
Mrs. Hartman leaned back in her chair. She propped her legs up on the desk, resting one heel on Hiromi’s arm and the other heel across Hiromi’s stomach. She slipped her hand under her lace panties and I thought my cock was going to come right there.
“Are you ready, Keith?” Mrs. Hartman asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“What was the title of William S. Burroughs’ unpublished sex novel?” Mrs. Hartman asked.
That was a tricky one. Most of Burroughs’s work was pretty filthy but there was one book that shamed even him. Not many people have even heard of it and the one copy in existence was locked away in the Colette-Ashbee collection. Still, I had heard of it.
“The Lobster Lover,” I answered.
Mrs. Hartman smiled at me. That was worth more than any sex with a horny slut.
“Very good,” she said. Her fingers stroked underneath her panties.
“Next question, name the three lovers in Charles Dickens’ ‘An Easter Party’.”
Oh shit. We covered that in class but it was a pretty boring story. A poor mother of a chimney sweep has sex with three people with afford to buy a gift for her son. It wasn’t my favorite by a long shot.
Hiromi whimpered before me. My hesitation to answer wasn’t giving her any confidence.
“Mr. Cockins, the baker,” I said, “and Mr. Scrotum, the policeman and umm, Mr. . . .”
Mrs. Hartman slowed down in her masturbating. A slight frown appeared on her face.
Shit! I almost forgot. “Wait, the last lover appeared to be Mr. Ass, the Vicar but really he was Jesus in disguise.”
Mrs. Hartman smiled. “Very good, Keith. No one else today has gotten that one right.”
I didn’t think it was physically possible, but Hiromi managed to spread her legs even wider.
Mrs. Hartman took her hands out of her panties and reached for her breast instead. It was still covered by her black lace bra but fuck, the sight of her breast being squeezed by her wet hand was almost enough to send me over the dge.
“Last question,” Mrs. Hartman said. “Identify Henry Rider Haggard’s only known erotic work.”
I felt a great relief wash over me. Mrs. Hartman wasn’t aware of my interest in turn of the century pulps so she wouldn’t know that I spent extra attention in class when his name came up. I couldn’t track down the book that she had mentioned but it was on my list that I keep searching for.
“She Who Must Come,” I said.
Mrs. Hartman blinked behind her glasses. “That is absolutely correct,” she said.
Hiromi shuddered. She moaned as she wiggled her hips back and forth. Her cunt waited for me.
“Just one moment, Keith,” Mrs. Hartman said. She stood up and began to work on the knot holding Hiromi’s left ankle. “You have won your extra credit fair and share, but I was wondering if you would be interested in answering one more question for an extra prize?”
My heart was pounding in my chest. “What is the prize?”
“The prize would be me,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I would help you fuck Hirmoi here and you as well. Would you like that?”
“Yes, yes, please,” I said. My voice trembled a little. “What is the question?”
“You just answered it,” Mrs. Hartman said.
She kissed me while Hiromi groaned. Mrs. Hartman’s lips were everything I had imagined them to be. Soft and commanding, I felt like I was drinking from the lips of the wisest woman on campus.
Mrs. Hartman broke the kiss and reached for my pants. I stood there as she unzipped me and pulled my cock from my underwear. Her fingers wrapped around my cock and gave me the squeeze that I had often daydreamed so much about.
“You’re in luck, Hiromi. This is a fine cock indeed.”
Hiromi reached for me with her one free foot.
“Start eating her while I free the other foot,” Mrs. Hartman said. “The poor girl has been here all morning waiting for a good student.”
My cock throbbed. She called me a good student! I felt like I could fuck the entire literature department!
I dived into Hiromi’s sex. She cried out on the first lick. Fuck, she was wet. In all the erotic books, the writers talk endlessly about how wet the women are but Hiromi was fiction come to life. There was a fountain of desire between her thighs and I licked as much as I could.
“Fuck!” Hiromi cried out. Mrs. Hartman must have released her hands because I felt both of Hiromi’s hands pushing my head down. Her hips moved and she fucked my face with her pussy. I kept licking although I was sure just the presence of my face was enough for her.
“Finally”! she cried out. Her body froze in the throes of her orgasm. I felt her hands let go of my head and I cautiously stood up. Hiromi melted in front of my eyes. She went from frozen tension to a liquid limpness in seconds. I felt ridiculously proud of myself even though I knew it was the denial that had all of the responsibility.
Mrs. Hartman came back around the desk towards me. “Give her a moment, and she will be ready for more. This one used to fuck herself three times a day.”
“Okay,” I said meekly. My favorite teacher was standing on front of me and I would obey anything that she had to say.
Mrs. Hartman didn’t say anything. She squatted down before me on her high heels. I looked down on her and her intelligent eyes and red lace covered breasts. My cock throbbed inched from her lips. I wanted nothing more than for her to take me in her mouth but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
I didn’t have to say anything to say either. Mrs. Hartman opened her lips and my hips did the rest. My cock went into her mouth and down, down, down her throat. She sucked all of my cock right down to the right. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had never been consumed so utterly before.
Mrs. Hartman sucked my cock. Sensations flooded my mind. I could feel her tongue, her lips, her breath and her very presence. Looking at her didn’t make it any easier to understand. This beautiful woman had my cock in her mouth and her eyes looked up at me with excitement and affection.
All of the erotica that we had covered in class seemed pointless. No writer could describe what I was feeling. It was a mixture of heavenly bliss and earthly pleasure. It was about suction and achieving the impossible. It was about that special feeling of a tongue from a woman you respect. It was about the joy of knowing you could come at any second down the throat of a teacher. How can you write that? How could anyone possibly convey that feeling for others to read?
Hiromi moaned. Free, she was stroking herself and spreading her thighs. She watched Mrs. Hartman suck me with jealous eyes.
Mrs. Hartman pulled my cock out of her mouth. “I told you Hiromi would be ready. Give her what she needs.”
I obeyed though I was reluctant to leave Mrs. Hartman’s mouth. I moved between Hiromi’s thighs and her legs wrapped around me possessively. This was a woman whose need was so much simpler than mine. I wanted my crush and she wanted a cock. Her desire was a vacuum that I wanted to fill.
My cock pushed into her lovely tight pussy. It was just as wet as before except now I could feel the powerful muscles clenching around me. When I pulled my hips back for a thrust, her greedy muscles clenched and forced me to fight for every inch out.
Mrs. Hartman sat on the desk beside us. She had her back to Hiromi and was facing me. I kept fucking Hiromi but my eyes were on Mrs. Hartman. I watched in fascination as she unclasped her bra. After a semester of looking at her cleavage, I could finally see her breasts.
I fucked faster.
“Keith,” Mrs. Hartman said. “Come here, but keep fucking.”
Mrs. Hartman pulled my head down to her breasts. I smelled perfume and body wash. I kissed soft flesh and licked hardening nipples. I moaned and I thanked the my advisor for signing me up for this class.
I also kept fucking.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!” Hiromi cried out.
Once again, Hiromi’s body froze. I stopped in mid thrust as her body clenched and then relaxed. My hips were still but my mouth was busy. I didn’t want to stop kissing Mrs. Hartman’s breasts for a second. I nibbled and kissed as much as I could with the knowledge that I may never kiss them again.
“Keith, it is time for you to fuck me, don’t you think?” Mrs. Hartman asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
Mrs. Hartman leaned back on the desk beside Hiromi. She pulled down and then kicked off her panties. Mrs. Hartman put one arm around the Asian girl and pulled her closer. Mrs. Hartman turned on her side and slipped a finger into Hiromi’s sex. My teacher opened her thighs and invited me towards her sex.
I didn’t waste a second. Still slick from being inside Hiromi, I plunged into Mrs. Hartman’s waiting pussy. She wasn’t as tight and she wasn’t as wet but fuck, it was heaven.
I fucked Mrs. Hartman. My teacher fingered Hiromi. The Asian student buried her face in Mrs. Hartman’s breasts.
This was education. This was erotica. This was fucking. This was everything I wanted and more.
I thought about the stories that we had covered in Mrs. Hartman’s class. The sex scenes always had a dozen physical variations. We chartered a hundred different words for a pussy. We created sentence diagrams of flowery descriptions of sex. I felt like it all missed the point. Erotica wasn’t about euphemisms and descriptions; it should be about this.
It should be about fucking.
We fucked. I felt my orgasm coming. I tried to fight it but it was useless. This wasn’t porn. This was real life and I was about to bust my load in my teacher while she fingered another student. I stopped fighting it and I let it happen.
I came.
Hiromi came.
Working together, Hiromi and I brought Mrs. Hartman to orgasm on our fingers.
Our performance didn’t affect our grades that semester, but Hiromi and I were more than happy with our extra credit.
Mrs. Hartman approaching me was all that was needed to make me show up. I had a crush on Mrs. Hartman, which wasn’t all that unusual at Eros University. We were the only university that I know of that has a student/teacher dance followed by a student/teacher slumber party at the sports center. A lot of students fuck their teachers here but I had it bad for Mrs. Hartman. Maybe it was because writing papers about lost works of erotica never presented an opportunity for sex in the class.
I walked into the class at my appointed time on a Saturday. Other students were enjoying morning orgies at the recreation center but I was attending class. I had no regrets. Some one on one time with Mrs. Hartmam, even in a test situation, was good enough for me.
My heart sank as I saw that we were not alone. There was a female student tied to Mrs. Hartman’s desk. She was on her back and completely naked, right down to the lack of pubic hair on her sex. The student was Asian, with lovely small breasts topped with erect nipples. Rope held down her wrists and ankles, spreading her indecently on the desk. Long black hair spilled over the edge of the desk. A gag covered her mouth but she moaned when she saw me. She wriggled with slutty desire against her bonds.
“Keith, I am so glad you took my advice,” Mrs. Hartman said.
I smiled weakly, afraid to say something silly. I was also embarrassed that I didn’t see her at first. She was opening the blinds to the windows and the sun bathed her in a radiant glow. Her fading blonde hair turned into an angel’s halo. Black glasses couldn’t hide her laughing eyes. Instead of her usual pantsuit, she was only wearing a red lace bra and matching red lace panties. She still wore heels though, which elevated her perfect ass to even greater heights.
“I want to make sure that I do the best work possible,” I said. Damn it, I ended up saying stupid after all.
Mrs. Hartman smiled as she walked back to her desk. “You always do excellent work, Keith. Your comments on Tolkein’s bondage trilogy were quite remarkable. I also thought you showed spectacular insight into Margaret Mitchell’s motives when she wrote ‘Brett’s Fancy Brother’.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hartman,” I said. I glanced towards the moaning female. “I take it that she didn’t do so well with the extra credit?”
Mrs. Hartman shook her head as she sat down at her desk. She brushed her finger against the student’s breast. The woman whimpered.
“No, Keith, she’s from another class,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I teach Self-Denial 101 and this little tramp did the best. She has managed to go an entire month without an orgasm and without the use of a chastity device. She has given twelve handjobs, nine blowjobs and fingered three women to orgasm in that time but she herself has not had even a finger inside her. Isn’t that true, Hiromi?”
Hiromi nodded vigorously.
“You see, Keith,” Mrs. Hartman explained, “your grades are excellent. I still think there is room for reward for good studying though, and sometimes we must look for credit outside of numerical values. Simply put, if you answer my three questions, then you may relieve Hiromi of her abstinence.”
Hirmoi moaned louder. I was glad because it covered the moan that came from my mouth.
“So far, five other students have tried this morning and failed,” she said. “Poor Hiromi here is about to die. If you fail, I’ll have to dismiss you and pleasure her myself.”
My cock throbbed at the thought if that.
“Now, Keith, please stand between Hiromi’s legs,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I want you to have a good view of what you are playing for.”
I took my place. I stood to the side of the desk and looked down on Hiromi’s waiting body. She looked up at me and lifter her hips towards me. Moisture glistened in her bare sex.
Mrs. Hartman leaned back in her chair. She propped her legs up on the desk, resting one heel on Hiromi’s arm and the other heel across Hiromi’s stomach. She slipped her hand under her lace panties and I thought my cock was going to come right there.
“Are you ready, Keith?” Mrs. Hartman asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“What was the title of William S. Burroughs’ unpublished sex novel?” Mrs. Hartman asked.
That was a tricky one. Most of Burroughs’s work was pretty filthy but there was one book that shamed even him. Not many people have even heard of it and the one copy in existence was locked away in the Colette-Ashbee collection. Still, I had heard of it.
“The Lobster Lover,” I answered.
Mrs. Hartman smiled at me. That was worth more than any sex with a horny slut.
“Very good,” she said. Her fingers stroked underneath her panties.
“Next question, name the three lovers in Charles Dickens’ ‘An Easter Party’.”
Oh shit. We covered that in class but it was a pretty boring story. A poor mother of a chimney sweep has sex with three people with afford to buy a gift for her son. It wasn’t my favorite by a long shot.
Hiromi whimpered before me. My hesitation to answer wasn’t giving her any confidence.
“Mr. Cockins, the baker,” I said, “and Mr. Scrotum, the policeman and umm, Mr. . . .”
Mrs. Hartman slowed down in her masturbating. A slight frown appeared on her face.
Shit! I almost forgot. “Wait, the last lover appeared to be Mr. Ass, the Vicar but really he was Jesus in disguise.”
Mrs. Hartman smiled. “Very good, Keith. No one else today has gotten that one right.”
I didn’t think it was physically possible, but Hiromi managed to spread her legs even wider.
Mrs. Hartman took her hands out of her panties and reached for her breast instead. It was still covered by her black lace bra but fuck, the sight of her breast being squeezed by her wet hand was almost enough to send me over the dge.
“Last question,” Mrs. Hartman said. “Identify Henry Rider Haggard’s only known erotic work.”
I felt a great relief wash over me. Mrs. Hartman wasn’t aware of my interest in turn of the century pulps so she wouldn’t know that I spent extra attention in class when his name came up. I couldn’t track down the book that she had mentioned but it was on my list that I keep searching for.
“She Who Must Come,” I said.
Mrs. Hartman blinked behind her glasses. “That is absolutely correct,” she said.
Hiromi shuddered. She moaned as she wiggled her hips back and forth. Her cunt waited for me.
“Just one moment, Keith,” Mrs. Hartman said. She stood up and began to work on the knot holding Hiromi’s left ankle. “You have won your extra credit fair and share, but I was wondering if you would be interested in answering one more question for an extra prize?”
My heart was pounding in my chest. “What is the prize?”
“The prize would be me,” Mrs. Hartman said. “I would help you fuck Hirmoi here and you as well. Would you like that?”
“Yes, yes, please,” I said. My voice trembled a little. “What is the question?”
“You just answered it,” Mrs. Hartman said.
She kissed me while Hiromi groaned. Mrs. Hartman’s lips were everything I had imagined them to be. Soft and commanding, I felt like I was drinking from the lips of the wisest woman on campus.
Mrs. Hartman broke the kiss and reached for my pants. I stood there as she unzipped me and pulled my cock from my underwear. Her fingers wrapped around my cock and gave me the squeeze that I had often daydreamed so much about.
“You’re in luck, Hiromi. This is a fine cock indeed.”
Hiromi reached for me with her one free foot.
“Start eating her while I free the other foot,” Mrs. Hartman said. “The poor girl has been here all morning waiting for a good student.”
My cock throbbed. She called me a good student! I felt like I could fuck the entire literature department!
I dived into Hiromi’s sex. She cried out on the first lick. Fuck, she was wet. In all the erotic books, the writers talk endlessly about how wet the women are but Hiromi was fiction come to life. There was a fountain of desire between her thighs and I licked as much as I could.
“Fuck!” Hiromi cried out. Mrs. Hartman must have released her hands because I felt both of Hiromi’s hands pushing my head down. Her hips moved and she fucked my face with her pussy. I kept licking although I was sure just the presence of my face was enough for her.
“Finally”! she cried out. Her body froze in the throes of her orgasm. I felt her hands let go of my head and I cautiously stood up. Hiromi melted in front of my eyes. She went from frozen tension to a liquid limpness in seconds. I felt ridiculously proud of myself even though I knew it was the denial that had all of the responsibility.
Mrs. Hartman came back around the desk towards me. “Give her a moment, and she will be ready for more. This one used to fuck herself three times a day.”
“Okay,” I said meekly. My favorite teacher was standing on front of me and I would obey anything that she had to say.
Mrs. Hartman didn’t say anything. She squatted down before me on her high heels. I looked down on her and her intelligent eyes and red lace covered breasts. My cock throbbed inched from her lips. I wanted nothing more than for her to take me in her mouth but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
I didn’t have to say anything to say either. Mrs. Hartman opened her lips and my hips did the rest. My cock went into her mouth and down, down, down her throat. She sucked all of my cock right down to the right. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had never been consumed so utterly before.
Mrs. Hartman sucked my cock. Sensations flooded my mind. I could feel her tongue, her lips, her breath and her very presence. Looking at her didn’t make it any easier to understand. This beautiful woman had my cock in her mouth and her eyes looked up at me with excitement and affection.
All of the erotica that we had covered in class seemed pointless. No writer could describe what I was feeling. It was a mixture of heavenly bliss and earthly pleasure. It was about suction and achieving the impossible. It was about that special feeling of a tongue from a woman you respect. It was about the joy of knowing you could come at any second down the throat of a teacher. How can you write that? How could anyone possibly convey that feeling for others to read?
Hiromi moaned. Free, she was stroking herself and spreading her thighs. She watched Mrs. Hartman suck me with jealous eyes.
Mrs. Hartman pulled my cock out of her mouth. “I told you Hiromi would be ready. Give her what she needs.”
I obeyed though I was reluctant to leave Mrs. Hartman’s mouth. I moved between Hiromi’s thighs and her legs wrapped around me possessively. This was a woman whose need was so much simpler than mine. I wanted my crush and she wanted a cock. Her desire was a vacuum that I wanted to fill.
My cock pushed into her lovely tight pussy. It was just as wet as before except now I could feel the powerful muscles clenching around me. When I pulled my hips back for a thrust, her greedy muscles clenched and forced me to fight for every inch out.
Mrs. Hartman sat on the desk beside us. She had her back to Hiromi and was facing me. I kept fucking Hiromi but my eyes were on Mrs. Hartman. I watched in fascination as she unclasped her bra. After a semester of looking at her cleavage, I could finally see her breasts.
I fucked faster.
“Keith,” Mrs. Hartman said. “Come here, but keep fucking.”
Mrs. Hartman pulled my head down to her breasts. I smelled perfume and body wash. I kissed soft flesh and licked hardening nipples. I moaned and I thanked the my advisor for signing me up for this class.
I also kept fucking.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!” Hiromi cried out.
Once again, Hiromi’s body froze. I stopped in mid thrust as her body clenched and then relaxed. My hips were still but my mouth was busy. I didn’t want to stop kissing Mrs. Hartman’s breasts for a second. I nibbled and kissed as much as I could with the knowledge that I may never kiss them again.
“Keith, it is time for you to fuck me, don’t you think?” Mrs. Hartman asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
Mrs. Hartman leaned back on the desk beside Hiromi. She pulled down and then kicked off her panties. Mrs. Hartman put one arm around the Asian girl and pulled her closer. Mrs. Hartman turned on her side and slipped a finger into Hiromi’s sex. My teacher opened her thighs and invited me towards her sex.
I didn’t waste a second. Still slick from being inside Hiromi, I plunged into Mrs. Hartman’s waiting pussy. She wasn’t as tight and she wasn’t as wet but fuck, it was heaven.
I fucked Mrs. Hartman. My teacher fingered Hiromi. The Asian student buried her face in Mrs. Hartman’s breasts.
This was education. This was erotica. This was fucking. This was everything I wanted and more.
I thought about the stories that we had covered in Mrs. Hartman’s class. The sex scenes always had a dozen physical variations. We chartered a hundred different words for a pussy. We created sentence diagrams of flowery descriptions of sex. I felt like it all missed the point. Erotica wasn’t about euphemisms and descriptions; it should be about this.
It should be about fucking.
We fucked. I felt my orgasm coming. I tried to fight it but it was useless. This wasn’t porn. This was real life and I was about to bust my load in my teacher while she fingered another student. I stopped fighting it and I let it happen.
I came.
Hiromi came.
Working together, Hiromi and I brought Mrs. Hartman to orgasm on our fingers.
Our performance didn’t affect our grades that semester, but Hiromi and I were more than happy with our extra credit.
Monday, August 08, 2011
Post It Note Signing
I am deeply grateful for every person who buys one of my books. As a cheap bastard myself, I am deeply touched that people out there want to own something that I wrote. It blows my mind.
Which is why it breaks my heart when I get emails asking if I can sign a copy of their book. Print on demand means that the book isn't actually printed till you buy it. I never see the book as it goes into the mail towards you. It also never occurred to me that anyone would want me to sign a book. Madness!
Here at the laboratory, we have finally come up with a solution. I will sign your book on a post-it note, mail it to you, and you can then tape or affix to your book in an appropriate place. It will require some assembly but hey, you have an authentic mark of my crappy handwriting on your porn book.
if you rather not receive things through the mail, I will scan the note and email you the jpeg so you can print and affix it yourself.
I will also happily send a note to people who buy an ebook that they can affix to wherever they like. I recommend the back of your iPad.
To participate, send me a request at shonrichards at yahoo and give me your address. Tell me also who I am writing it to, and let me know if you want a platonic note or a filthy note. I am a guy, I only have the two modes.
Which is why it breaks my heart when I get emails asking if I can sign a copy of their book. Print on demand means that the book isn't actually printed till you buy it. I never see the book as it goes into the mail towards you. It also never occurred to me that anyone would want me to sign a book. Madness!
Here at the laboratory, we have finally come up with a solution. I will sign your book on a post-it note, mail it to you, and you can then tape or affix to your book in an appropriate place. It will require some assembly but hey, you have an authentic mark of my crappy handwriting on your porn book.
if you rather not receive things through the mail, I will scan the note and email you the jpeg so you can print and affix it yourself.
I will also happily send a note to people who buy an ebook that they can affix to wherever they like. I recommend the back of your iPad.
To participate, send me a request at shonrichards at yahoo and give me your address. Tell me also who I am writing it to, and let me know if you want a platonic note or a filthy note. I am a guy, I only have the two modes.
Friday, August 05, 2011
Letter to a Slut
My Dearest Slut,
This weekend I will load your mouth with my come.
Your uniform this weekend will be that pair of tight shorts I bought you, no underwear. For a top you can only wear that white tank top of yours with no bra. For shoes, you may only wear sandals. We won’t be going out this weekend.
Come to my apartment dressed as I have described. Yes, I know it is too revealing to wear in public. Yes, I know about the teenage boys who hang around the parking lot. They will see you. There is no doubt that they will talk about you to their friends. The neighbors will look at you with disapproval. Everyone will know that my slut has come to me for the weekend.
You will knock at the door and wait. You will not knock again. You may wait awhile.
When I open the door, I will pull you into the apartment by your hair. My cock will want your mouth but my tongue will have you first. My hands in your hair, I will kiss you hard enough to make you gasp for air. My kiss will be the only admission of how much I have missed you this week.
It will be the only kiss you get.
From there, I will pull you to the couch. You will get down on your knees as I sit down. When I remove my pants, you will open your mouth. When I pull down my underwear, you will stick out your tongue. When I pull your hair to me, you will swallow my cock.
You will suck me, my slut. You will do all those things that I love. Your tongue will reach my balls. My cock will hit the back of your throat. You will moan. You will bounce your head on my lap.
I will not fuck your pretty pussy this weekend but you can stroke yourself as much as you want. I give you permission to come. You just can’t take off your shorts. You will have to either stick your fingers under your shorts or just rub your pussy from the outside like a dirty slut. Your fingers can do what they want as long as your mouth is sucking me.
It will have been a long week without you so I will come quickly. I doubt I will last more than a minute between your slut lips. I will fill your mouth with my seed and you will swallow it all. I know that you will flash that smug smile of yours, happy to make me come so quickly.
That’s okay. You will want to fuck and I will turn you down. I am sure that you will beg me to fuck you. Who knows, maybe you will talk me into it. I doubt it though. It won’t stop you from trying. I look forward to the filthy things you will say to me.
When your begging no longer amuses, I will silence you with my cock. As you stroke yourself, I will enjoy every part of your mouth. I am certain that you will climax before I do but you will keep sucking.
Friday, Saturday and Sunday, you will suck me. Movies, spanking, eating and lying in bed will break up the days but always my cock will return to your mouth. You will feel my seed on your tongue over and over again.
I will see you this weekend.
This weekend I will load your mouth with my come.
Your uniform this weekend will be that pair of tight shorts I bought you, no underwear. For a top you can only wear that white tank top of yours with no bra. For shoes, you may only wear sandals. We won’t be going out this weekend.
Come to my apartment dressed as I have described. Yes, I know it is too revealing to wear in public. Yes, I know about the teenage boys who hang around the parking lot. They will see you. There is no doubt that they will talk about you to their friends. The neighbors will look at you with disapproval. Everyone will know that my slut has come to me for the weekend.
You will knock at the door and wait. You will not knock again. You may wait awhile.
When I open the door, I will pull you into the apartment by your hair. My cock will want your mouth but my tongue will have you first. My hands in your hair, I will kiss you hard enough to make you gasp for air. My kiss will be the only admission of how much I have missed you this week.
It will be the only kiss you get.
From there, I will pull you to the couch. You will get down on your knees as I sit down. When I remove my pants, you will open your mouth. When I pull down my underwear, you will stick out your tongue. When I pull your hair to me, you will swallow my cock.
You will suck me, my slut. You will do all those things that I love. Your tongue will reach my balls. My cock will hit the back of your throat. You will moan. You will bounce your head on my lap.
I will not fuck your pretty pussy this weekend but you can stroke yourself as much as you want. I give you permission to come. You just can’t take off your shorts. You will have to either stick your fingers under your shorts or just rub your pussy from the outside like a dirty slut. Your fingers can do what they want as long as your mouth is sucking me.
It will have been a long week without you so I will come quickly. I doubt I will last more than a minute between your slut lips. I will fill your mouth with my seed and you will swallow it all. I know that you will flash that smug smile of yours, happy to make me come so quickly.
That’s okay. You will want to fuck and I will turn you down. I am sure that you will beg me to fuck you. Who knows, maybe you will talk me into it. I doubt it though. It won’t stop you from trying. I look forward to the filthy things you will say to me.
When your begging no longer amuses, I will silence you with my cock. As you stroke yourself, I will enjoy every part of your mouth. I am certain that you will climax before I do but you will keep sucking.
Friday, Saturday and Sunday, you will suck me. Movies, spanking, eating and lying in bed will break up the days but always my cock will return to your mouth. You will feel my seed on your tongue over and over again.
I will see you this weekend.
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
Fiction: Cabin Girl
Piper lifted the lid of her crate. There was no light down here in the hold of the ship. She stepped out of the crate and blended with the darkness. She had stopped wearing clothes as she could find nothing darker than her own native skin. The deep brown of her flesh merged with the wood tones of the ship.
She couldn’t see the sky but she could hear. The ship was getting quiet. A day’s work of sailing had passed and the early night of fucking was slowing down. Hammocks were being slung and crew members were going to sleep. A minimum crew would be on deck to keep an eye on the ship and steer the Wild Kiss through the night.
Piper crept out of the hold. Every night on the ship was a marvel to her. Born in Jamaica, she lived her life as a servant in a dirty tavern. No family to speak of, Piper had longed for escape from the cruel woman that took her in. Cleaning floors and serving grog was not how she wanted to live the rest of her life.
One day she made a run for it. She knew that she could join the escaped slaves in the forests but she had no desire to live in hardship. Piper went to the docks and looked for a ship that she could stow away on. All she needed to do was reach a port, any port, and she was sure that she could start a new life somewhere. Such was the optimism of youth.
It didn’t hurt that Piper was also very beautiful. She had always been short but in the last few years, her bosom had expanded and her hips had widened most fetchingly. Her black hair had taken on a shiny luster. Lips that always seemed too big were now giving her mouth a sensual pout that would make the whores of Paris jealous. Piper suspected her beauty could open many doors in a new place.
Her beauty was the reason for her hiding on board this ship of cutthroats and perverts. The Wild Kiss had a reputation for being a ship full of sinners and deviants. It also had a reputation for hitting every port in the Caribbean. Piper just had to wait her time and eventually the ship would stop somewhere rich and glorious like Santiago or Vera Amore.
In the meantime, Piper had to eat. With most of the crew asleep, it was safe for Piper to head towards the ship’s galley. There was always a pot of leftovers waiting to be eaten. As a small woman, Piper didn’t need much. A bowl for now and a bowl for later would hold her till tomorrow night.
That wasn’t the only reason Piper left her crate. The small woman was also terribly aroused. The ship’s hold was always dark and secluded, and many a trysting couple would come down here during the day. Pirates would fuck here often and sometimes upon the very crate that Piper was hiding in.
Most of the time, Piper would touch herself as they fucked. As the crate shook around her with the force of someone’s thrusts, Piper would furiously stroke between her legs till she was spent. By the time night fell, Piper couldn’t wait to leave her crate. She needed some real human contact, even if the people she saw were asleep.
She went to the galley first. She picked the lock on the door with practiced ease. The woman she had worked for stole from her guests all the time, and it was often Piper’s job to sneak into their rooms to open their lock boxes. After several weeks at sea, Piper could open the galley door in pitch darkness in less than a minute.
Inside she gorged on stew, a papaya and a small bit of wine. Refreshed, she stepped back out into the ship. Someone passed by at the end of the hallway but they paid her no glance. In the middle of the night, people were busy on their own business. A ship of thieves and pirates were too concerned with not being seen themselves to call anyone else out.
Piper slipped to above deck. She wanted to see the stars. The small woman went to her hiding spot to the aft of the ship. There, a tiny nook was small enough for her to sit in and watch the ocean.
The stars glittered in the ocean.
When she had her fill of the ocean air, Piper went back below decks. She sneaked her way into the areas where the crew slung their hammocks. A single lantern cast inadequate light. The swinging hammocks rocked with the ocean and Piper’s loins stirred at the sight of all that naked skin.
She paused by a crewman. His cock was erect. It was quite enormous and Piper was sure it would split her in two if it ever entered her. This must be the one called Ale Mug. Hiding in her crate, she had heard even the most wanton of pirates confess a fear of this legendary appendage.
She felt a hunger between her thighs. Piper had to touch it. There was no way that she could fuck it, but just had to know how it felt. It was too good of a chance to pass up.
As careful as a thief, Piper reached for the stiff cock. Her fingers wrapped around him as soft as the wind. She could feel the heat emanating from the massive manhood. She forgot herself and gripped his cock and admiration and affection.
Ale Mug groaned. His eyes fluttered and then closed. His nostrils flared.
Piper stroked him. Once, twice, three times her hand moved up and down his girth. She leaned over and gave the tip of his cock a small kiss.
Ale Mug kept sleeping, but now he was smiling.
Piper released his cock. Her own need was making it hard to walk. With her heart pounding, Piper rushed back to her hiding place. She had to slip around a couple kissing by the doorway but from there on, she was free.
She slipped into her crate. Her cunt was wet and ready for her touch. In the darkness and solitude, Piper brought herself to climax within seconds.
Piper dreamed of giant cocks and clear skies.
~~~
“I found you, you little sluthole!” a voice boomed.
Piper was pulled out of her hiding place by her hair. She opened her eyes to see a ragged looking parrot. It was riding the shoulders of swarthy Portuguese man.
“I knew we had a stowaway!” the man yelled. “Well, the cook knew and kept fucking bugging me about missing food, but that means I fucking knew. And now I finally fucking found you, you little naked scamp!”
“Fuck her in the mouth!” the parrot cried.
Piper gasped with lust.
“That is a good idea, Pussy,” the pirate said. “But the Captain decides what to do with stowaways on this ship!”
He noticed Piper’s quizzical look. “The parrot’s name is Pussy. I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Oh,” Piper said, a little disappointed. “And what is your name?”
“My name is Mr. Fucks,” the pirate said. He wrapped her hair in his hand and pushed her towards the stairs. “March, wench! It is not every day I get to take a naked prize to the Captain.”
Her hair in his grasp, Piper had no choice but to go as he directed. Up the decks they went. They walked past a group of men who leered and cheered as her naked body walked by. They went past a group of women who shouted the most depraved offers of companionship. They marched past a smelly man who proclaimed her ass to be smoother than that of an Admiral’s.
Finally they reached the Captain’s quarters. Piper had never been inside before but often she had heard wild sounds coming from it at night. Her poor cunt was dripping with fear and anticipation. Mr. Fucks knocked once on the door and didn’t wait to be invited before he forced Piper through.
The quarters were far more luxurious than Piper could have imagined. A grand bed that belonged to a governor took up much of the room. Thick tapestries looted from merchant ships lined the floors. A painting of the Queen of Spain hung on a wall with some rather suspicious stains on her face. Gold and jewelry littered the floor.
Sitting at a desk was Captain O’Plenty. She wasn’t wearing a shirt although Piper wasn’t sure any shirt could possibly hold O’Plenty’s treasures. Her long blonde hair matched the gold necklace she wore as well as the flashy gold rings on her fingers. She was wearing a black skirt but she had her skirt pulled up to idly play with her cunt hair.
“I’ll be damned,” Captain O’Plenty said. “There really was a stowaway? I owe the Cook a long fucking.”
Mr. Fucks pushed Piper till she was a foot away from the Captain. The smell of O’Plenty’s cunt drifted over the Piper. She licked her lips.
“What is your name, girl?” Captain O’Plenty said.
“Piper, miss,” she said.
A sharp slap landed on her ass. Piper jumped as much as the grip on her hair would let her.
“Address her as Captain,” Mr. Fucks growled.
“My name is Piper, Captain,” she said. “I was named after the Sand Piper bird. Because I am so small, Captain.”
“Where was this Piper hiding?” Captain O’Plenty said.
“She was hiding in that crates of Bibles we had,” Mr. Fucks said. “I knew no good would come from having god damn Bibles on board.”
“Where are the Bibles?” Captain O’Plenty said. She was still playing with her cunt.
There was no answer till Mr. Fucks twisted Piper’s hair.
“I threw them overboard in the night!” Piper said. “I had to make room to hide, and I knew no one would be needing a Bible.”
Captain O’Plenty smirked. “Yes, except I was planning to sell that to a Jesuit monastery I know. Not only do you owe me the price of your passage aboard my ship, as well as the food that you have stolen, but now I find out that you destroyed cargo as well? You will owe me a lot of money, girl.”
Mr. Fucks ran his free hand down her shoulder. “She has the smoothest skin, Captain. This one has never worked outside. I’d wager her thighs are softer than a whore’s heart.”
“Spread your thighs!” the parrot cackled.
Piper spread her legs as far as she could while still standing.
Captain O’Plenty laughed. “It’s not the bird you should be listening to! So what shall I do with you? Should I make you work off your debt among the crew? Any other pirate ship would strap you to a hammock where everyone could take a turn at you. Or maybe I should strap you the mast where we can line up and take what we want from your body?”
“Captain, she be a trembling with fear!” Mr. Fucks said.
Piper was trembling but it wasn’t with fear. What Captain O’Plenty described sounded like heaven. In fact, it sounded much like the fantasies she masturbated to every night. She kept her face as neutral as possible so that they wouldn’t realize how much she desired the punishment that Captain O’Plenty might give her.
“Don’t worry, wench,” Captain O’Plenty said. “That is not how we do things here. No man or woman will ever be raped on my ship. We have too many willing cunts and cocks to ever force ourselves on someone. I just wanted you to know how lucky you are to be on such an enlightened ship.
“Oh, thank you,” Piper said without much conviction.
“No, we’ll put you to work somewhere,” Captain O’Plenty said. She was fingering her cunt a bit more energetically. Piper couldn’t stop looking at the Captain’s slick fingers.
“Maybe we could find a use for her,” Mr. Fucks said. “I mean, she is fucking pretty. She’s so nice and small, I could bounce her on my cock all day long. Let’s make a cabin girl out of her. She can polish your boots by day and polish your cunt at night.”
Piper tried to keep from smiling. Her hands came together in what she hoped was an unnoticed prayer.
“None of that talk, Mr. Fucks,” Captain O’Plenty said. “We’re not Captain RedBush, pressing innocent young women into oral service. Nay, she could work with the cook down in the galley. That would keep her away from most of the crew. She’ll earn her keep till we sail into port.”
Piper felt tears come to her eyes. Away from the crew? That would mean no cocks or cunts for her. Oh why, oh why couldn’t she have sneaked aboard Captain Redbush’s ship?
“Swallow it all!” the parrot cackled.
“Nay, Pussy,” Mr. Fucks said sadly. “The Captain is right. We may be a ship full of adulterers, thieves, killers and sodomites, but we ain’t no rapists. Come along, lass. I’ll introduce you to the cook.”
“No!” Piper screamed. She fell down to her knees and grabbed Captain O’Plenty’s foot. “Please, please let me serve you in any carnal way you desire! Give me to the crew or keep me to yourself, just please make use of me! I beg you!”
Captain O’Plenty looked at her in pleasant surprise. She did not stop stroking herself. The busty blonde did glance at Mr. Fucks.
“What do you think, Mr. Fucks? Is our stowaway that afraid of kitchen work or do you like she is a harlot?”
“Harlots do it twice!” the parrot said.
“I agree with Pussy,” Mr. Fucks said. “Just look at the stain she’s making on your rug. She damn near left a wet spot already.”
Piper looked down. It was true. The terrible punishments they had described were causing her cunt to flow. She must have been trickling down her thighs since Mr. Fucks first grabbed her.
Captain O’Plenty put her foot on Piper’s chest. Piper looked down the long muscular leg to the hairy cunt that the Captain was stroking. The heat between her own thighs became unbearable.
“Are you a harlot, girl?” Captain O’Plenty said. “A cabin girl would have to keep the place tidy, wait on me like a maid and warm my bed. She would also have to warm the bed of any man or woman I tell you to.”
“Suck my balls!” Pussy cackled.
“Yes, and you would be sucking Mr. Fucks’ balls,” Captain O’Plenty said. “You would be at his service as well, him being my right hand man and all. Do you have a problem with that? I mean, we can find you another job if you won’t want to work with the cook.”
Piper didn’t know how to answer. How could she possibly begin to explain how turned on she had been by listening to the crew fuck? How could she tell them that she wanted all the terrible things that they had threatened her with? She didn’t have the words to express herself at all.
Piper decided that words wouldn’t work at all. The young woman crawled as fast as she could to Captain O’Plenty’s cunt. The Captain laughed as the girl pushed O’Plenty’s wet fingers away. On her hands and knees, Piper put her face the Captain’s cunt. The Captain’s laugh turned to a groan as Piper licked in earnest.
The young woman had never licked a woman before but she knew what she liked. Piper took long deep licks of O’Plenty’s cunt, flattening her tongue against the woman’s lips. The Captain tasted like nothing Piper had ever had before, but she knew that she liked it. She pressed her face against the Captain’s cunt, letting her lips and tongue express what words could not.
“Aye, she is a harlot at heart,” Captain O’Plenty said.
Piper felt the Captain’s hand press against her head. The rings on the Captain’s fingers snagged against her hair. The Captain pulled Piper’s head tighter to the Captain’s cunt. Powerful thighs enclosed around Piper’s head, securing her to the place that she most wanted to be.
“Any woman can lick a cunt,” Mr. Fucks said. “Well, any woman who’s had a few drinks and maybe a Catholic upbringing, but still, that doesn’t make one a harlot.”
“What would that take?” Captain O’Plenty said.
Piper licked faster.
“Harlots love cock!” the parrot cackled.
“Pussy is right,” Mr. Fucks said. “A real harlot likes a cunt and a cock at the same time.”
“Is that true, girl?” Captain O’Plenty said. “How do you feel about a cock in that small cunt of yours?”
Captain O’Plenty hadn’t released Piper’s head to let her answer. Piper wiggled her hips as suggestively as she could. It must have worked because she soon felt strong hands grab her hips.
“Permission to come aboard,” Mr. Fucks said.
“Permission granted,” Captain O’Plenty said.
A large cock pressed against Piper’s tight sex. She tilted her hips as his glorious girth entered her. It wasn’t as big as Ale Mug but by God, she was happy to have it.
“Jesus Christ and his sodomite disciples!” Mr. Fucks said. “The harlot’s hole is wetter than the ocean!”
“Her mouth isn’t so bad, either,” Captain O’Plenty said.
They stopped talking. Mr. Fucks fucked while Piper licked. Captain O’Plenty added another hand to Piper’s head, locking her into an inescapable embrace. Piper was reduced to a mouth and a cunt. She was there to be fucked. She was there to lick. She was there to be used by the two most powerful people on the ship.
Piper climaxed. Her arms and thighs trembled but she stayed on her hands and knees. She moaned her orgasm into the Captain’s cunt but the pirates didn’t stop. This wasn’t about her pleasure.
Mr. Fucks fucked her cunt. After weeks of neglect, Piper finally had a thick cock stretching her tiny body. He was a little too big, a little too fast and a little too rough but it was all perfect. Piper was finally being fucked.
Captain O’Plenty’s cunt rolled under Piper’s mouth. The Captain humped Piper’s face with a passion that Piper recognized in herself. The Captain needed to climax. Piper felt a glorious feeling in knowing that she alone was bringing about the Captain’s pleasure.
Piper always suspected that she was a harlot at heart. There was many a night at the tavern that she had snuck into the rooms of male guests and fucked them in the darkness. She thought she did it to distract herself from her dreary life but now she knew better. Piper did it because she liked it.
Trapped between a cock and cunt, Piper realized that she liked this better. This was the job that she wanted. She wanted to be a mouth. She wanted to be a cunt. Maybe tomorrow, she’ll just be an asshole for someone. Or maybe a pair of tits or a willing hand. Piper’s heart was racing from the possibilities. She had no desire to be a pirate. She wanted to be a pirate’s possession.
Mr. Fucks growled. His seed filled her cunt and triggered new desire in her. The thrusting stopped as his cock emptied inside her.
Captain O’Plenty spent seconds later. Her hands pulled Piper’s ears as she thrust her cunt against Piper’s face. Piper couldn’t breathe as her mouth and nose were covered with cunt and flesh. She was going to die, she knew it. She was going to die with seed in her cunt and cunt in her mouth. Piper didn’t mind.
Piper’s head was released. She could breathe again. She took long gasping breaths but she stayed on her hands and knees. It felt natural here.
“It looks like you got yourself a Cabin Girl,” Mr. Fucks said.
“I think you are right,” Captain O’Plenty said. “Well get to work, harlot. This place is a fucking mess.”
“Yes, Captain,” Piper said. She started to rise to her feet. The Captain planted her foot on Piper’s shoulder and forced her back down to her knees.
“No, stay on your knees,” the Captain said. “That is your place now.”
Piper couldn’t have been happier.
To read more stories from Tales of the Wild Kiss, purchase a copy here.
She couldn’t see the sky but she could hear. The ship was getting quiet. A day’s work of sailing had passed and the early night of fucking was slowing down. Hammocks were being slung and crew members were going to sleep. A minimum crew would be on deck to keep an eye on the ship and steer the Wild Kiss through the night.
Piper crept out of the hold. Every night on the ship was a marvel to her. Born in Jamaica, she lived her life as a servant in a dirty tavern. No family to speak of, Piper had longed for escape from the cruel woman that took her in. Cleaning floors and serving grog was not how she wanted to live the rest of her life.
One day she made a run for it. She knew that she could join the escaped slaves in the forests but she had no desire to live in hardship. Piper went to the docks and looked for a ship that she could stow away on. All she needed to do was reach a port, any port, and she was sure that she could start a new life somewhere. Such was the optimism of youth.
It didn’t hurt that Piper was also very beautiful. She had always been short but in the last few years, her bosom had expanded and her hips had widened most fetchingly. Her black hair had taken on a shiny luster. Lips that always seemed too big were now giving her mouth a sensual pout that would make the whores of Paris jealous. Piper suspected her beauty could open many doors in a new place.
Her beauty was the reason for her hiding on board this ship of cutthroats and perverts. The Wild Kiss had a reputation for being a ship full of sinners and deviants. It also had a reputation for hitting every port in the Caribbean. Piper just had to wait her time and eventually the ship would stop somewhere rich and glorious like Santiago or Vera Amore.
In the meantime, Piper had to eat. With most of the crew asleep, it was safe for Piper to head towards the ship’s galley. There was always a pot of leftovers waiting to be eaten. As a small woman, Piper didn’t need much. A bowl for now and a bowl for later would hold her till tomorrow night.
That wasn’t the only reason Piper left her crate. The small woman was also terribly aroused. The ship’s hold was always dark and secluded, and many a trysting couple would come down here during the day. Pirates would fuck here often and sometimes upon the very crate that Piper was hiding in.
Most of the time, Piper would touch herself as they fucked. As the crate shook around her with the force of someone’s thrusts, Piper would furiously stroke between her legs till she was spent. By the time night fell, Piper couldn’t wait to leave her crate. She needed some real human contact, even if the people she saw were asleep.
She went to the galley first. She picked the lock on the door with practiced ease. The woman she had worked for stole from her guests all the time, and it was often Piper’s job to sneak into their rooms to open their lock boxes. After several weeks at sea, Piper could open the galley door in pitch darkness in less than a minute.
Inside she gorged on stew, a papaya and a small bit of wine. Refreshed, she stepped back out into the ship. Someone passed by at the end of the hallway but they paid her no glance. In the middle of the night, people were busy on their own business. A ship of thieves and pirates were too concerned with not being seen themselves to call anyone else out.
Piper slipped to above deck. She wanted to see the stars. The small woman went to her hiding spot to the aft of the ship. There, a tiny nook was small enough for her to sit in and watch the ocean.
The stars glittered in the ocean.
When she had her fill of the ocean air, Piper went back below decks. She sneaked her way into the areas where the crew slung their hammocks. A single lantern cast inadequate light. The swinging hammocks rocked with the ocean and Piper’s loins stirred at the sight of all that naked skin.
She paused by a crewman. His cock was erect. It was quite enormous and Piper was sure it would split her in two if it ever entered her. This must be the one called Ale Mug. Hiding in her crate, she had heard even the most wanton of pirates confess a fear of this legendary appendage.
She felt a hunger between her thighs. Piper had to touch it. There was no way that she could fuck it, but just had to know how it felt. It was too good of a chance to pass up.
As careful as a thief, Piper reached for the stiff cock. Her fingers wrapped around him as soft as the wind. She could feel the heat emanating from the massive manhood. She forgot herself and gripped his cock and admiration and affection.
Ale Mug groaned. His eyes fluttered and then closed. His nostrils flared.
Piper stroked him. Once, twice, three times her hand moved up and down his girth. She leaned over and gave the tip of his cock a small kiss.
Ale Mug kept sleeping, but now he was smiling.
Piper released his cock. Her own need was making it hard to walk. With her heart pounding, Piper rushed back to her hiding place. She had to slip around a couple kissing by the doorway but from there on, she was free.
She slipped into her crate. Her cunt was wet and ready for her touch. In the darkness and solitude, Piper brought herself to climax within seconds.
Piper dreamed of giant cocks and clear skies.
~~~
“I found you, you little sluthole!” a voice boomed.
Piper was pulled out of her hiding place by her hair. She opened her eyes to see a ragged looking parrot. It was riding the shoulders of swarthy Portuguese man.
“I knew we had a stowaway!” the man yelled. “Well, the cook knew and kept fucking bugging me about missing food, but that means I fucking knew. And now I finally fucking found you, you little naked scamp!”
“Fuck her in the mouth!” the parrot cried.
Piper gasped with lust.
“That is a good idea, Pussy,” the pirate said. “But the Captain decides what to do with stowaways on this ship!”
He noticed Piper’s quizzical look. “The parrot’s name is Pussy. I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Oh,” Piper said, a little disappointed. “And what is your name?”
“My name is Mr. Fucks,” the pirate said. He wrapped her hair in his hand and pushed her towards the stairs. “March, wench! It is not every day I get to take a naked prize to the Captain.”
Her hair in his grasp, Piper had no choice but to go as he directed. Up the decks they went. They walked past a group of men who leered and cheered as her naked body walked by. They went past a group of women who shouted the most depraved offers of companionship. They marched past a smelly man who proclaimed her ass to be smoother than that of an Admiral’s.
Finally they reached the Captain’s quarters. Piper had never been inside before but often she had heard wild sounds coming from it at night. Her poor cunt was dripping with fear and anticipation. Mr. Fucks knocked once on the door and didn’t wait to be invited before he forced Piper through.
The quarters were far more luxurious than Piper could have imagined. A grand bed that belonged to a governor took up much of the room. Thick tapestries looted from merchant ships lined the floors. A painting of the Queen of Spain hung on a wall with some rather suspicious stains on her face. Gold and jewelry littered the floor.
Sitting at a desk was Captain O’Plenty. She wasn’t wearing a shirt although Piper wasn’t sure any shirt could possibly hold O’Plenty’s treasures. Her long blonde hair matched the gold necklace she wore as well as the flashy gold rings on her fingers. She was wearing a black skirt but she had her skirt pulled up to idly play with her cunt hair.
“I’ll be damned,” Captain O’Plenty said. “There really was a stowaway? I owe the Cook a long fucking.”
Mr. Fucks pushed Piper till she was a foot away from the Captain. The smell of O’Plenty’s cunt drifted over the Piper. She licked her lips.
“What is your name, girl?” Captain O’Plenty said.
“Piper, miss,” she said.
A sharp slap landed on her ass. Piper jumped as much as the grip on her hair would let her.
“Address her as Captain,” Mr. Fucks growled.
“My name is Piper, Captain,” she said. “I was named after the Sand Piper bird. Because I am so small, Captain.”
“Where was this Piper hiding?” Captain O’Plenty said.
“She was hiding in that crates of Bibles we had,” Mr. Fucks said. “I knew no good would come from having god damn Bibles on board.”
“Where are the Bibles?” Captain O’Plenty said. She was still playing with her cunt.
There was no answer till Mr. Fucks twisted Piper’s hair.
“I threw them overboard in the night!” Piper said. “I had to make room to hide, and I knew no one would be needing a Bible.”
Captain O’Plenty smirked. “Yes, except I was planning to sell that to a Jesuit monastery I know. Not only do you owe me the price of your passage aboard my ship, as well as the food that you have stolen, but now I find out that you destroyed cargo as well? You will owe me a lot of money, girl.”
Mr. Fucks ran his free hand down her shoulder. “She has the smoothest skin, Captain. This one has never worked outside. I’d wager her thighs are softer than a whore’s heart.”
“Spread your thighs!” the parrot cackled.
Piper spread her legs as far as she could while still standing.
Captain O’Plenty laughed. “It’s not the bird you should be listening to! So what shall I do with you? Should I make you work off your debt among the crew? Any other pirate ship would strap you to a hammock where everyone could take a turn at you. Or maybe I should strap you the mast where we can line up and take what we want from your body?”
“Captain, she be a trembling with fear!” Mr. Fucks said.
Piper was trembling but it wasn’t with fear. What Captain O’Plenty described sounded like heaven. In fact, it sounded much like the fantasies she masturbated to every night. She kept her face as neutral as possible so that they wouldn’t realize how much she desired the punishment that Captain O’Plenty might give her.
“Don’t worry, wench,” Captain O’Plenty said. “That is not how we do things here. No man or woman will ever be raped on my ship. We have too many willing cunts and cocks to ever force ourselves on someone. I just wanted you to know how lucky you are to be on such an enlightened ship.
“Oh, thank you,” Piper said without much conviction.
“No, we’ll put you to work somewhere,” Captain O’Plenty said. She was fingering her cunt a bit more energetically. Piper couldn’t stop looking at the Captain’s slick fingers.
“Maybe we could find a use for her,” Mr. Fucks said. “I mean, she is fucking pretty. She’s so nice and small, I could bounce her on my cock all day long. Let’s make a cabin girl out of her. She can polish your boots by day and polish your cunt at night.”
Piper tried to keep from smiling. Her hands came together in what she hoped was an unnoticed prayer.
“None of that talk, Mr. Fucks,” Captain O’Plenty said. “We’re not Captain RedBush, pressing innocent young women into oral service. Nay, she could work with the cook down in the galley. That would keep her away from most of the crew. She’ll earn her keep till we sail into port.”
Piper felt tears come to her eyes. Away from the crew? That would mean no cocks or cunts for her. Oh why, oh why couldn’t she have sneaked aboard Captain Redbush’s ship?
“Swallow it all!” the parrot cackled.
“Nay, Pussy,” Mr. Fucks said sadly. “The Captain is right. We may be a ship full of adulterers, thieves, killers and sodomites, but we ain’t no rapists. Come along, lass. I’ll introduce you to the cook.”
“No!” Piper screamed. She fell down to her knees and grabbed Captain O’Plenty’s foot. “Please, please let me serve you in any carnal way you desire! Give me to the crew or keep me to yourself, just please make use of me! I beg you!”
Captain O’Plenty looked at her in pleasant surprise. She did not stop stroking herself. The busty blonde did glance at Mr. Fucks.
“What do you think, Mr. Fucks? Is our stowaway that afraid of kitchen work or do you like she is a harlot?”
“Harlots do it twice!” the parrot said.
“I agree with Pussy,” Mr. Fucks said. “Just look at the stain she’s making on your rug. She damn near left a wet spot already.”
Piper looked down. It was true. The terrible punishments they had described were causing her cunt to flow. She must have been trickling down her thighs since Mr. Fucks first grabbed her.
Captain O’Plenty put her foot on Piper’s chest. Piper looked down the long muscular leg to the hairy cunt that the Captain was stroking. The heat between her own thighs became unbearable.
“Are you a harlot, girl?” Captain O’Plenty said. “A cabin girl would have to keep the place tidy, wait on me like a maid and warm my bed. She would also have to warm the bed of any man or woman I tell you to.”
“Suck my balls!” Pussy cackled.
“Yes, and you would be sucking Mr. Fucks’ balls,” Captain O’Plenty said. “You would be at his service as well, him being my right hand man and all. Do you have a problem with that? I mean, we can find you another job if you won’t want to work with the cook.”
Piper didn’t know how to answer. How could she possibly begin to explain how turned on she had been by listening to the crew fuck? How could she tell them that she wanted all the terrible things that they had threatened her with? She didn’t have the words to express herself at all.
Piper decided that words wouldn’t work at all. The young woman crawled as fast as she could to Captain O’Plenty’s cunt. The Captain laughed as the girl pushed O’Plenty’s wet fingers away. On her hands and knees, Piper put her face the Captain’s cunt. The Captain’s laugh turned to a groan as Piper licked in earnest.
The young woman had never licked a woman before but she knew what she liked. Piper took long deep licks of O’Plenty’s cunt, flattening her tongue against the woman’s lips. The Captain tasted like nothing Piper had ever had before, but she knew that she liked it. She pressed her face against the Captain’s cunt, letting her lips and tongue express what words could not.
“Aye, she is a harlot at heart,” Captain O’Plenty said.
Piper felt the Captain’s hand press against her head. The rings on the Captain’s fingers snagged against her hair. The Captain pulled Piper’s head tighter to the Captain’s cunt. Powerful thighs enclosed around Piper’s head, securing her to the place that she most wanted to be.
“Any woman can lick a cunt,” Mr. Fucks said. “Well, any woman who’s had a few drinks and maybe a Catholic upbringing, but still, that doesn’t make one a harlot.”
“What would that take?” Captain O’Plenty said.
Piper licked faster.
“Harlots love cock!” the parrot cackled.
“Pussy is right,” Mr. Fucks said. “A real harlot likes a cunt and a cock at the same time.”
“Is that true, girl?” Captain O’Plenty said. “How do you feel about a cock in that small cunt of yours?”
Captain O’Plenty hadn’t released Piper’s head to let her answer. Piper wiggled her hips as suggestively as she could. It must have worked because she soon felt strong hands grab her hips.
“Permission to come aboard,” Mr. Fucks said.
“Permission granted,” Captain O’Plenty said.
A large cock pressed against Piper’s tight sex. She tilted her hips as his glorious girth entered her. It wasn’t as big as Ale Mug but by God, she was happy to have it.
“Jesus Christ and his sodomite disciples!” Mr. Fucks said. “The harlot’s hole is wetter than the ocean!”
“Her mouth isn’t so bad, either,” Captain O’Plenty said.
They stopped talking. Mr. Fucks fucked while Piper licked. Captain O’Plenty added another hand to Piper’s head, locking her into an inescapable embrace. Piper was reduced to a mouth and a cunt. She was there to be fucked. She was there to lick. She was there to be used by the two most powerful people on the ship.
Piper climaxed. Her arms and thighs trembled but she stayed on her hands and knees. She moaned her orgasm into the Captain’s cunt but the pirates didn’t stop. This wasn’t about her pleasure.
Mr. Fucks fucked her cunt. After weeks of neglect, Piper finally had a thick cock stretching her tiny body. He was a little too big, a little too fast and a little too rough but it was all perfect. Piper was finally being fucked.
Captain O’Plenty’s cunt rolled under Piper’s mouth. The Captain humped Piper’s face with a passion that Piper recognized in herself. The Captain needed to climax. Piper felt a glorious feeling in knowing that she alone was bringing about the Captain’s pleasure.
Piper always suspected that she was a harlot at heart. There was many a night at the tavern that she had snuck into the rooms of male guests and fucked them in the darkness. She thought she did it to distract herself from her dreary life but now she knew better. Piper did it because she liked it.
Trapped between a cock and cunt, Piper realized that she liked this better. This was the job that she wanted. She wanted to be a mouth. She wanted to be a cunt. Maybe tomorrow, she’ll just be an asshole for someone. Or maybe a pair of tits or a willing hand. Piper’s heart was racing from the possibilities. She had no desire to be a pirate. She wanted to be a pirate’s possession.
Mr. Fucks growled. His seed filled her cunt and triggered new desire in her. The thrusting stopped as his cock emptied inside her.
Captain O’Plenty spent seconds later. Her hands pulled Piper’s ears as she thrust her cunt against Piper’s face. Piper couldn’t breathe as her mouth and nose were covered with cunt and flesh. She was going to die, she knew it. She was going to die with seed in her cunt and cunt in her mouth. Piper didn’t mind.
Piper’s head was released. She could breathe again. She took long gasping breaths but she stayed on her hands and knees. It felt natural here.
“It looks like you got yourself a Cabin Girl,” Mr. Fucks said.
“I think you are right,” Captain O’Plenty said. “Well get to work, harlot. This place is a fucking mess.”
“Yes, Captain,” Piper said. She started to rise to her feet. The Captain planted her foot on Piper’s shoulder and forced her back down to her knees.
“No, stay on your knees,” the Captain said. “That is your place now.”
Piper couldn’t have been happier.
To read more stories from Tales of the Wild Kiss, purchase a copy here.
Monday, August 01, 2011
Buy Tales of the Wild Kiss
My latest book, 'Tales of the Wild Kiss' is now available for purchase on Lulu. For $9.99, you can get a nice paperback book and for $2.99 you can get a pdf that you can read on your scifi data pads. What is 'Tales of the Wild Kiss'? It is an anthology about events happening on a pirate ship during the Golden Age of Piracy in the Caribbean. The Captain is Kate O'Plenty, a fierce woman with big breasts and a bigger sexual appetite. The crew is made of men and women of different nationalities who fuck each other. There is also quite a bit of bloodshed, superstitions, drinking, cursing, bondage and more sex. Inside this book is twenty-one stories and three chanties. The chanties are in case you are ever aboard a raunchy pirate ship and you need a song to pass the time.
George Sportelli did the cover as well as several interior illustrations. Bridget and Daisy Danger combed through it and slaughtered as many typos as possible. I personally listened to the Monkey Island soundtrack, the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack and some filk singers to create as authentic a mood as possible.
Purchase a copy of Tales of the Wild Kiss by clicking the handy button below.
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