Fiction:With a Bang

Explorer’s Log.  I have arrived at the star system designated Queen’s Intimate Clench by Royal Astronomers.  The only planet here has a rich vibrant ecosystem dominated by a primitive species that speaks a barbaric version of Dotum.  They are called the Kowe. The Kowe are friendly, trusting, hard working and perfectly suited for conquest.

The planet is also in the path of an asteroid that will destroy all life on the planet.  Scans of the asteroid reveal that it contains thirteen valuable elements that could be mined.  After the collision, the Royal Navy will have plenty to extract.

Collision will occur in five days.  I will depart after today.  End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log.  I have made the decision to tell the Kowe about their fate.  The Kowe have treated me as an honored guest and they have cooked some of the best food I have ever eaten.  They have been asking me about the large green object in the sky and it is time I was honest with them.  That soup they make with the little fish is worth the truth alone.

Although the Kowe are peaceful, I will be carrying my plasma pistol.  They might go apocalypse mad and decide to kill the messenger.  I just hope they feed me first.
“Well, that went better than I expected,” Vaquel said.

All around Vaquel, the Kowe were fucking.  Two hundred furry creatures that barely came up to her leg were humping like happy madmen.  Females squealed as barbed cocks entered their leather cunts.  Males roared with happiness as cunts capable of grinding stones clenched at them.  Some of the Kowe were banging on skull drums that set the pace for the fucking.  It was one big happy orgy.

Vaquel shook her head.  Short pink hair bobbed above her dark face.  She stood in the middle of the orgy; her dark red spacesuit clinging to every glorious curve.  Slowly she relaxed the grip on her plasma pistol.  The Kowe had reacted to the news of imminent destruction remarkably well.

“I don’t get it, Tekciw,” she said.

Tekciw, lead hunter of the Kowe smiled.  His big round eyes reflected the campfires that surrounded them.  He stood proudly beside her. His only clothing was a necklace of teeth.

“You have told the Kowe that they will soon join their ancestors in the Great Stars.  You told them that they forest the live in will be consumed in an unimaginable fire that will transform the trees, the rivers and even the beasts we hunt into ash.  This means our home will come with us to the afterlife.”

The Kowe musicians rang a bell made from the rib cage of some monster.  The Kowe swapped sexual partners and resumed fucking.

“Would you care to join in the celebration?” Tekciw said.

Vaquel shuddered.  “No thank you.  I have seen your sexual organs and I have never seen so many hooks, spikes and razor sharp edges on a body part.  You guys could fuck a hole through solid rock.”

The short furry creature smiled and the bone that pierced his nose rose higher. “There are more than one way to pleasure a female, Vaquel.  Let me perform a ritual of our people on you.  I promise, it will be as soft as a freshly cut liver on your sex.”

Vaquel wasn’t disturbed by the liver reference.  The Kowe were obsessed with eating meat and she had come to understand their language.  She was also quite a bit aroused.  It wasn’t every day that she saw hundreds of creatures fucking with wild abandon.  She wanted in on it.

“Okay, but at the first sign of pain, I’m eating your arm,” she said.  She knew how to speak their language.

Teckiw licked his lips.

Vaquel pressed a button on her utility belt.  The lower half of her red spacesuit receded.  The shiny material pulled up her long dark legs, past her thick thighs and over the pink hair of her pubic bush. 

Teckiw gently pushed her down to sit on the throne the Kowe had made for her.  It was carved from bone and sinew.  He spread her brown thighs and grinned up at her.  When Vaquel smiled back at him, he dived his head down between her legs.

Vaquel cried out.  Rough lips kissed against her sensitive sex.  The raspy tongue of the Kowe hunter licked hard against her.  The pointed teeth of his mouth pressed threateningly against tender skin. 

It was exactly what Vaquel needed.  She had spent so many days with the Kowe; admiring their terribly ferocity and yet smitten with their almost toy like height and features.  The orgy had pushed her self control to the limit and now she was getting a savage pussy eating.  It was good to be a space explorer.

Tekciw burrowed deeper between her thighs.  She felt the bone piercing in his nose rub against her clitoris.  His rough tongue licked furiously at the juices that flowed from her pussy.  Tekciw snorted between her thighs in his thirst for her sex.

Vaquel threw her head back.  Tekciw’s tongue lapped hard at her sex.  Above, the green asteroid loomed large in the sky.  It was on a slow motion path that would annihilate the planet but for now it hung there like a second moon in the sky.  Vaquel could almost feel the glorious destruction radiating from the green traveler.

The Kowe musicians struck the gong and the Kowe swapped partners once again.  Tekciw made no motion to move away from Vaqeul’s thighs and she was grateful for that.  She was also pleasantly surprised to see some Kowe males buggering the furry bottoms of other males while some Kowe females licked furiously at the grinding cunts of other females.  The end of the world was bringing out the best in Kowe.

The drums of the Kowe musicians beat faster and Tekciw’s tongue licked faster as well.  Vaquel gripped the bone throne and squeezed her thighs tighter around Tekciw’s furry head.  His sharp teeth pressed against her most intimate flesh but he never bit down.  The rough texture of his tongue teased and scraped her sex.  The insatiable licking sent shivers up and down Vaquel’s body. 

A Kowe male screamed his pleasure.  His cry was answered with a Kowe female’s scream.  More cries followed as the Kowe climaxed all around Vaquel.  The forests echoed with the howls of pleasure. 

The gong rang and the Kowe moved.  They no longer paired off in couplings.  They reached for the nearest body.  They groped intimate parts while thrusting into another.  The large orgy shifted and included everyone.  Kowe experienced the joys and gropes of multiple bodies at a time.

Overhead, the green asteroid traveled thousands of miles in a second but it appeared to be standing still.

Vaquel looked down at the furry Kowe between her legs.  His mouth was licking but his hands were busy.  He stroking his deadly cock, his hand slick with the juices she had given him.  Tiny barbs sprouted along his cock as he roughly jerked himself.

“Come with me, Tekciw,” Vaquel moaned.  “I am going to come soon and I want you to come as well.”

Tekciw groaned and stroked faster.  His teeth bit a little harder.  His breathing went faster.  His tongue whipped inside her.

“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel cried out.  She climaxed and shook on the bone chair.  Her screams of pleasure joined the chorus of Kowe cries.

Tekciw moaned and his cock erupted.  Thick alien seed splattered onto Vaquel’s leg. 

Above them, the green asteroid continued its journey to a different kind of climax.

Fiction: Fucktoy Santa

I pulled into the parking lot at noon.  It was Christmas Eve and most normal people were either killing each other at the store or sitting on their asses at home.  I was doing neither.  I was at the leather dungeon, preparing this year’s Christmas Fucktoys.

Rosie was waiting for me inside.  She was wearing one of her red corsets except she had added some a white feather boa.  She was a cruel dominatrix but she was also a softie for the holidays.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Claus,” she said.  It wasn’t my name but it would be the only name the fucktoys would know me by. 

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Claus,” I said.  We hugged briefly.  “Are the fucktoys here?”

“Waiting for us in the playroom,” Mrs. Claus said. 

“Where are they from this year?”

“These came from Chicago,” Mrs. Claus said. 

“I bet they appreciate the Atlanta weather then,” I said.  “How many did we get?”

“We got five in all, two guys and three women.”

“Not bad,” I said.  It was a good showing.  Not many people had what it took to become a fucktoys for a stranger, much less be available for Christmas.  It took a certain kind of masochist as well as someone who lacked the usual social ties to friends and family.

Shit, you could almost say the same thing about me and Rosie.

I walked into the playroom.  The fucktoys were chatting but they immediately went silent when I walked into the room.  For some reason, they were still wearing clothes.

“Strip,” I said.  To their credit, none of them hesitated.

I shouldn’t be surprised.  The Christmas fucktoy process was very demanding.  No one wanted drama on Christmas.  These men and women had been fucked, spanked, bound, pushed, prodded, humiliated and pushed to every limit.  I used to be a part of the certification process and it was exhausting just to be a tester.  I can’t imagine what it must be like from their end. 

The fucktoys got naked.  There was a heavy blonde who looked like her ass could take a beating for days.  We had a bald guy whose cock was something out of a porn movie.  Next to him was a petite redhead who was toned like a dancer.  Off to the side was a chubby guy who had hair all over his body.  Last was a mousy black woman with lovely kinky hair.

“All right,” Mrs. Claus said.  “Put your clothes in these duffel bags and then get your asses to the bathrooms.  If you have to go while we tie you up, we’re just going to let you shit yourself.”

That wasn’t exactly true but hey, when you deal with fucktoys you got to set the rules down hard.  While the fucktoys used the bathroom, I went to the rope locker.   We were on the clock and I wanted to make every delivery on time.

The fucktoys came back and I and Mrs. Claus went to work.  She took the males while I took the women.

I tied the black girl first.  I used a red and green rope to bind her arms behind her back.  She moaned as I used the rope to make her a bra that separated her breasts.  I bound her thighs together and I could smell the desire from her cunt.

I took a lick of her cunt.  She trembled and nearly fell over.  I grabbed her ass and held her to my face as I licked her.  She was delightfully wet.  I drank her desire.

“Thank you, sir,” she said when I stood up.

I slapped her face.  My hand print glowed on her dark cheek.  “Only speak when you are addressed,” I said. 

She nodded.  I was within my rights to punish her further but it wasn’t necessary.  Wrapping presents always made me people a little giddy.

I fitted her with a bright red jawbreaker gag.  Drool glistened from her lips as she licked the sweet candy.

I went to work on the blonde next.  I grabbed her tits and squeezed because fuck, tits that nice were meant to be groped.  The blonde moaned as I groped her; her nipples hardening with every squeeze.

Red rope bound her hands to her thighs.  Her hands were just shy of being able to touch her shaved cunt.  Bows attached to clamps went onto her nipples.  She hissed as the clamps bit into her flesh.  She shut her eyes tight as she rode out the pain.  She popped her eyes back open when she felt my fingers on her cunt.   
   
One stroke, two strokes, three strokes and she was as wet as melted snow.  Her cheeks flushed and her mouth opened for a moan but she was completely silent.

Four strokes, five strokes, six strokes and her hips were grinding my fingers.

Seven strokes, eight strokes, nine strokes and she was biting her lip. 

Ten strokes, eleven strokes, twelve strokes and she beginning to shake.

I stopped and put my fingers to her mouth.  She eagerly sucked them clean.  When I removed my fingers, I placed a green rubber ball gag in her mouth, topped with another red bow.  I was feeling festive.

A groan brought my attention to Mrs. Claus.  She was shoving an anal plug into the bald man.  His cock was wrapped in prickly tinsel.  Mistletoe clamps hung from each nipple.

I turned to the redhead.  She had pale skin and really good muscle tone.  I used silver ribbon mixed with red ribbon to bind her legs together.  I used the ribbons in alternating colors to create the effect of a candy cane.  The ribbons were tight against her leg, showing off all those lovely muscles.  I wrapped the ribbons over her sex until I had her waist wrapped.

She looked straight ahead.  The fucktoy was trying to hide her disappointment that I hadn’t teased her cunt like I did the others.  She was behaving quite well.

I unzipped my pants.  The fucktoy never glanced down though a smile threatened to cross her lips.  I grabbed her by the back of her head and bent her down to my cock.  Her bound legs prevented her from kneeling so she had to bend at the waist.  It was a precarious position for her but I held the nimble fucktoy by her hair.

The fucktoy opened her mouth and sucked my cock in a single gulp.  I held her head there.  She wasn’t able to move but she did the best she could with her tongue.  The fucktoy was a good little cocksucker.

I looked over at Mrs. Claus.  She was jacking off the hairy man.  Heavy ornaments dangled from his balls.  She was whispering something terrible in his ear.  His face was flushed with fear and arousal.

The fucktoy choked on my cock and I kept her there.  A few minutes later, I let her back up.  Now she was smiling.

I put a white collar around her neck and white cuffs around her wrists.  I connected the wrists to her collar and hung some mistletoe from the d-ring.  Her small breasts I left alone because decorating is all about knowing when to stop.

“Let’s get them into the van,” Mrs. Claus said. 

“What is our first delivery?” I asked.

“The blonde one,” she said.

“Okay, you drive while I prepare her.”

We loaded the fucktoys into the van.  It was a scary looking black thing with no windows.  It was perfect for our needs. 

Mrs. Claus put on a coat to hide her corset and got into the driver’s seat.  The fucktoys sat against the sides while I got the box ready.  Within minutes we were on I-285, ready to make our first delivery.  I just had to make the box.

The boxes come on wheels and thank God for that because I am not as young as I used to be.  The side of the box was reinforced with handles to help people move the damn thing around.   I had the blonde sit in the box bottom as I built the box around her.  Duct tape and a lot of wrapping paper held the box together.  It wouldn’t survive any real shipping but it would serve our purposes. 

Before I closed the lid, I slapped her breasts a few times.  One time slapped her too hard and the clamp flew off.  I reclamped her tit and checked out my work.  Her breasts were a festive red color.

“Be a good fucktoy,” I said as I closed the box lid.  She nodded her head in assent.

The van stopped and I opened the back door.  Mrs. Claus pulled out the ramp.  Together we carefully rolled the box down the ramp and onto the driveway. 

I didn’t recognize the house but that was okay.  Other people picked the lucky recipients of the fucktoys.  The way it worked is that every year people would sign up for the list.  A committee would then work through that list and rule out some of the people. I know that the recipient process is even stricter than the fucktoy process.  It takes a special person to abuse another safely.

Now supposedly the committee takes the number of fucktoys and decides by random who gets one.  Even though the process is mostly random though you would be surprised how many recently divorced people or those suffering a real life hardship get a fucktoy.  I don’t mind this nudging of the rules.  The holidays do that to people.

No one knows if they get a fucktoy until they get that knock on the door on Christmas Eve.

We rolled the box to the front door.  I knocked on the door and turned to leave.  Mrs. Claus and I heard the door open behind us but we didn’t turn around.  We were there just to deliver the fucktoys. 

I drove while Mrs. Claus prepared the chubby guy.  Traffic was hellish but I was in a good mood.  It was Christmas.

We left the chubby guy at a house recognized.  It belonged to a gay couple I knew.  I was smiling the whole time because I knew that one of them recently lost his father.  It felt good to help brighten up a sad time.

We delivered the black woman to an apartment.  I made sure to stroke her until she was nice and wet before sealing her in the box.  I licked my fingers clean myself.

We delivered the redhead to a nice older man who was working in his yard.  He helped us bring the box to his shed, which I understand is where she will spend all of her time until someone comes to pick her up.

Last we dropped off the bald guy at a theater down in Little Five Points.  You have to wonder what kind of kinky shit he was in for.

Mrs. Claus and I sang songs as I drove her to back to the dungeon.  I swear I hate Christmas music but singing it with a friend makes it okay.  We hugged and agreed to meet before New Year’s for some paddle shopping.

The drive home was less festive.  It felt so good to deliver fucktoys while the rest of the city went about it’s vanilla business but afterwards, there was something of a letdown.  While the fucktoys went on to be used, and five lucky people got the chance to use them, my part in the story was over.  I was proud of my part, but I wished it wasn’t over.  Now I just had an empty house to return to on Christmas Eve.

I pulled into my driveway and I saw the box by my doorstep.  It was huge and brightly wrapped in glittering Christmas paper.  The box was on wheels.

I got out of the car.  My hands were shaking.  There was a card on the box.  I opened it.

“Merry Christmas, from Mrs. Claus”

I swallowed hard.  I unlocked the door and pushed the box into my living room.  My fingers made a mess of the wrapping as I tore open the box.

A naked Asian woman looked at me.  Drool dripped from her ball gag painted as a snowball.  Plump breasts were held up by gold and silver tinsel. 

I knew her.  I didn’t know her name but I had seen at her at the dungeon.  She usually played with Mrs. Claus, I mean Rosie.

I took the gag out of her mouth.  “And who are you?” I asked.

“I’m your fucktoy,” she said.

“That was the right answer,” I said.

It was going to be a Merry Christmas after all.  

Play With This: The Pornicorn

The following entry has been submitted by Daisy Danger. This is the kind of thing we talk about.

I woke up on the ground, slightly hungover, as usual, but not worse for the wear.

Looking around, I realized I was in a part of the park I'd never been in before. I don't remember how I got there, but that's was getting to be less and less unusual too.

What was unusual, however, was the unicorn standing over me. His breath was terrible, probably worse than mine, which was no small feat.

"Jesus, dude," I muttered, trying to decide if I was still drunk.

"Five bucks for a blowjob," the unicorn said.

"What?" I sat up. A talking unicorn. I tried desperately to recall what and how much I'd had to drink last night, but my stomach churned from the unicorn's breath.

"All right man, three bucks. Fuck, I'm sure," the unicorn said, annoyed.

"Back the fuck off," I said, my voice became shrill.

The unicorn took about ten steps back, that's the first time I got a full look at him. His nose, muzzle, whatever horse part you call it, was stained brownish-yellow. His mane was long and matted, full of twigs and leaves. His horn was what was unbelievable though, it was wrapped in pages from nudie magazines and fastened with long strands of scotch tape. An edge was loose and a pair of fake tanned tits flapped like a little flag.

"What the fuck are you supposed to be?" I asked him.

"I am," he said pausing for effect, "the Pornicorn." He shook his mane as he said it. I think the desired effect was supposed to look like long wavy hair blowing in a sexy breeze, but some twigs fell out and he looked ridiculous.

I backed up and sat against a tree trunk and found a pack of crushed cigarettes. As I put one to my lips, the Pornicorn said "Hey man, can I bum one of those?"

"Fine. Whatever," I said, flicking the lighter. I took a long drag and the Pornicorn licked his lips.

I heard a squeak and a rustling sound. A tiny monkey the size of my hand emerged from the Pornicorn's mane. The monkey crawled on top of the Pornicorn's head, then leapt off, landed in front of me and opened his tiny hand.

"Can he bum one too?" the Pornicorn asked.

"What the shit? Why the fuck not. Fucking unicorns and monkeys and..." I said, handing two cigarettes to the monkey. The monkey stuck both the cigarettes in his mouth, then snatched my lighter. He lit both and the Pornicorn lowered his head to the ground. The monkey stuck one of the cigarettes into the Pornicorn's mouth and they both took a deep drag.

"What's with the monkey?" I finally asked.

"What?" answered the Pornicorn, "Does it look like I have fucking hands? Do I look like a fucking Centaur to you? Fucking assholes, all superior with their arms."  He said this last part bitterly.

The monkey looked at me and seemed to plead "Don't get him started," with his little beady eyes, but it was too late.

"The monkey's name is Stash, he's like, you know, my helper," the Pornicorn continued. "Like what the fuck am I supposed to do with four legs and a face? Fucking leap around the meadows shitting rainbows or what?"

Stash hot boxed his cigarette, then flicked the butt away into the bushes. Patiently, he held the other cigarette out so the Pornicorn could take a drag in between rants.

"All right, all right," I answered, "Don't get so fucking worked up about it."

"Oooh, look at me, the pretty shiny little magical unicorn," he said in a high voice while he pranced mockingly in a circle.

"Goddamn, you are one bitter asshole," I said, and got up to leave.

"Wait, sorry, sorry," he said, coming closer to me, "I'm sorry."

"What the fuck do you want?" I asked.

He dipped his head down and Stash ran up his muzzle and disappeared back into his ratty mane.

"How about that blow job?" Pornicorn asked.

"I'm not blowing you," I answered. If I didn't know anything else that morning, I knew that much. I was not blowing a deranged Goddamned unicorn for any amount of money.

"No, I'll blow you, for...um... four bucks," he said.

"I thought you said three," I said, "Wait, what the fuck? Are you some kind of horse gigolo?"

He looked slightly insulted, but I didn't care. I walked away and left him standing in the park, alone with his scummy little monkey.

__

A hour later I came back, out of curiosity. Pornicorn was standing where I'd left him, his eyes closed. He opened one when he heard me approach, but closed it again.

As I got closer, I heard him make little chuffing sounds, and then a groan. That's when I noticed Stash.

"What the fuck is that monkey doing?" I shrieked.

"Jerkin' me off, man" he said. Stash was wrapped around Pornicorn's cock, shimmying up and down as fast as he could.

"Oh yeah, that's it," the Pornicorn said to no one in particular, "That's it, that's the way." He gave a shudder and suddenly my shoes were sticky. Stash leapt off his cock and rolled around in a patch of grass trying to get clean, but soon he had grass clipping stuck all over his tiny body.

"You wouldn't happen to have another cigarette?" he asked.

"No, not for you" I said, "That was the most disgusting thing I ever saw."

"You should see when he massages my prostate," Pornicorn snickered.

All of last night's mistakes burbled in my throat, and I retched behind some bushes.

"If Stash jerks me off early, then I can last longer during the day," he explained.

"So you are a horse gigolo," I said, wiping my mouth on my sleeve.

"I'm a fucking unicorn, not a fucking horse," Pornicorn said. "Actually, I am a magical unicorn, but the gig got fucking boring, kids asking for a fucking pot of gold or some shit. What the fuck do I get out of it? Nothing. Does anyone say 'Thank you'? No. All I get are virgins trying to lure me, and who wants that? I decided to go my own way."

"So you grant wishes?" I asked, "Like that's a real thing?"

"Yeah."

"So I could ask for shit and  you'd grant my wishes?"

"If I wanted to, yeah," he eyed me warily.

"Like, what could I wish for?"

"Here's the deal. I'm in business for myself. I'm the Pornicorn. I'll grant you three dirty wishes. Anything you want. Ass-to-mouth? Fine. A room full of pussy? Fine, but there's one condition," he said.

"What's that?" I asked, suddenly imagining naked bodies writhing and grinding on me.

"I get to watch," he replied. 

Play With This is a series of articles designed to give you things to play around with in your writing.  Feel free to borrow, modify, or completely change for your own stories  

Fiction: Exchanging Gifts

My sister, Susan, opened the door. A brief glimpse of excitement quickly flipped to disappointment.

“It’s just Scott!” she yelled.

“I love you, too,” I said.

“Don’t be melodramatic,” Susan said. “Bill called a few minutes ago and he said that they were ten minutes out of town. Everyone can’t wait to see the new baby.”

“I understand,” and I did. Mom and Dad had six kids and there was nothing more important to the family than adding new spawn. We were currently at nineteen grandchildren and all of them were here for Christmas. I was twenty-eight, single and blessedly free of tiny mouths to feed, which explained my rapidly shrinking importance in the family. It was a miracle that they invited me to Christmas dinner at all.

Maybe the bigger question was why I drove two hundred miles to come see them. Every year was a long day of kid friendly movies on the television while my brothers and sisters traded baby stories. The screaming of children desperate for attention was going to drown out any Christmas music. Dinner was a jumbled mess of parents begging kids to eat something other than chicken fingers and macaroni and cheese. It certainly didn’t look like a place that an adult could enjoy but yet I came here every year without fail.

I went into the kitchen. My mom was there and she gave me my yearly hug before returning back to the mashed potatoes. My sister, Sharon, was there and she gave my yearly nod of the head. I didn’t mind. I only had eyes on the third woman in the kitchen. She was my mom’s best friend for twenty years, our next door neighbor for eighteen years and the woman we all called Aunt Kim.

Fuck, she was still gorgeous. Her curly brown hair had streaks of grey but it was as long as ever. She was wearing a Christmas sweater tight enough to show off large breasts that were the subject of many a teenage masturbation dream. There were a few more lines on her face but they only enhanced her smile. Bright blue eyes beamed with adoration behind her gold glasses.

“Scott!” Aunt Kim said and she hugged me tight. Large breasts pressed against my chest and funny things happened with my cock. Her hands safely out of view from my family, she let them drop down and squeeze my ass. I suppressed my groan which just made my cock all the harder.

“I swear you’re still growing!” Aunt Kim said. She gave a wink that only I saw to know that she wasn’t talking about my height.

“Still six foot three,” I said. I could feel a slight blush rise to my cheeks. I was a grown man but she still reduced me to putty.

“Scott, could you bring down some chairs from upstairs,” my mom said. “I forgot to add Steven’s twins when I set up the table.”

It was beginning already. My servitude to children was my primary purpose at these events.  I had come to accept it.

“Actually Laura, I wanted to borrow Scott for a few minutes,” Aunt Kim said. “I bought a set of serving bowls last week and there are too heavy for me to carry. Scott, would you mind coming with me and bringing them over?”

“Sure,” I said.

I left the kitchen before my mom could enlist any more of our family to help. Aunt Kim quickly followed behind me. We did our best not to run to the door.

Once outside, it was even harder not to run. We had to walk casually past fake reindeer and balloon snowmen. I held the gate open for her and resisted grabbing her ass. She lived just next door but it felt like she was millions of miles away.

“I have been thinking of sucking your cock all day,” Aunt Kim said. It was almost a whisper.

“I have been thinking of it too,” I said.

We reached the sidewalk.

“Remember that first Christmas that I sucked you?” she said.

“Of course I do. It was my first blowjob.”

“You came in less than a minute,” Aunt Kim laughed.

We turned up the walkway to her house.

“Are you going to come on my face this year, or in my mouth?” Aunt Kim asked.

“I haven’t decided,” I said. “Maybe it will be a surprise.”

We reached the front door. She fumbled with the lock and finally got it open.
I felt a powerful wave of nostalgia and desire as I stepped through the door way.

I slammed the door behind us. Aunt Kim dropped down to her knees in the hallway. She was pulling at my pants while I pulled at her sweater. She yanked my pants and boxers down and my cock sprang forward. Only then would she consent top letting me pull the sweater over her head. White lace held those gloriously tanned tits. I shivered when I realized that she still tanned topless.

“As good as you remember?” she asked.

“Better,” I said. It was true. I used to spy from the attic window so that I could look down into her yard. She would lie on her back, her body oiled and bared for my peeping eyes. It was better now. Now I could touch them.

My hand went to her tit. Her mouth went to my cock.

“Fuck yes!” I cried out. This was why I made the drive. A willing mouth is what I looked forward to every Christmas.

Aunt Kim looked up at me as she sucked. Her blue eyes sparkled as they looked over her gold glasses. Her cheeks moved as she slid back and forth over me. An experienced tongue did amazing things to the underside of my cock. Lovely long curly hair shook as her head bounced.

My hand pulled her tit out of her bra. It was plump, warm and perfect. My fingers played with a nipple as hard as my cock. There were so many times that I jacked off thinking of these breasts and now once again, they were mine to play with. It must have been Christmas.

Aunt Kim groaned and put a hand to her crotch. She rubbed at the heat hidden beneath her jeans. Her hand digs at the sex I had never fucked. My Christmas present was always a blowjob. I had never complained.

She took my cock out of her mouth. Her tongue flicked at the head of my cock before consuming me once more. I hit the back of her throat and I groaned.

My other hand reached for her other breast. I held both of her tits in my hands. I felt the familiar weight. I pulled on perfect nipples. I squeezed ripe tits that would never loss their thrill.

Aunt Kim moaned and stroked faster. I couldn’t see them but I imagined that her jeans were getting soaked. She was rubbing so hard while she sucked me. I swore I could hear the wet sounds of her pussy.

A new desire flared within me. I released her breasts and gently pulled her away from my cock.

She looked at me, her lips shiny with spit. “What’s the matter?”

I said nothing. I reached down and helped her stand up. My fingers tugged at her jeans.

“Wait, Scott!” she said. “We shouldn’t!”

“It is time I gave you a present,” I said. I tugged her jeans down. A thick bush of hair greeted me. Aunt Kim wasn’t wearing panties.

I turned her around. She bent over and placed her hands on the wall. She wasn’t arguing. I looked down on her tanned ass that had taunted me for years. Her legs parted for me.

My cock slammed into her. Deep down I knew I should go slow. In the back of my mind I was thinking of all the slow wonderful ways to fuck a woman. I couldn’t do any of that. I had to fuck her.

We both cried out. My hard cock was fucking her wet pussy. The sound of my hips hitting her ass were deafening in the hallway.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Aunt Kim called out.

I fucked faster. I had wanted to fuck her for years. I had fucked her so many times in my mind. I had soiled so many tissue foes her. Now I was fucking her and it was everything I ever dreamed.

“Fuck me, Scott,” she called out.

“Yes, Aunt Kim,” I shouted back.

Neither of us could last long. It had been too many years in the making. It started back when she teased me with glimpses down her bra. It continued to that one special Christmas when she gave me a moving away present. It continued every year as I returned for her mouth. We had spent years going to the edge and now we were finally fucking.

She climaxed first. Aunt Kim slammed her hand on the wall as her orgasm came.

She also climaxed second. Her pussy tightened so hard around me as her body shivered in pleasure.

It was my turn to come. My cock exploded with an intensity that surprised me. My cock released everything I had into Aunt Kim’s forbidden wonderful pussy.

We both froze with pleasure. My knees were shaking as I stood behind her bent over body. I watched the sweat slide down her tanned back. She looked at me over her shoulder; blue eyes blazing with affection behind her glasses.

“Merry Christmas,” she said.

Dirty Comics: Super Coven

Back in the day, I used to read about 30 webcomics a day. That was until I realized that 99% of them were about two wacky roommates who played videogames. I cut back on my webcomics to a small handful and it takes a miracle of coolness to make me read a new one.

Which brings us to my favorite new thing, Super Coven. Written and drawn by Tenebrous Kate, it tells the story of a group of friends who play music and are currently investigating the possibly true story of Werewolf Frogman. It begun in October and updates every Monday with an extra strip on the first Friday of the month. Currently the strip is at a horror convention where the characters have tracked down the writer of Werewolf Frogman. 

It is hard for me to be objective about this webcomic because it hits all my sweet spots. It involves a garage metal band, it discusses weird conspiracy theories, the characters are real people and not cut from the every-other-damn-webcomic mold, the art is gorgeous and most of the humor derives from things in the background. It baffles me that it took this long to get a webcomic that is the equivalent of a Euro-grindhouse approach to webcomics. There are hundreds of blogs dedicated to these subjects but never a webcomic until now. It is the kind of place any of my characters could cross over into and that it pretty damn cool.

So check out Super Coven. It strays into NSFW art so enjoy this in the privacy of your own lair.

I give it Five out of Five Pam Griers.

Horror: Escape or Swallow

I was in the break room when the world ended. The television showed the Washington Monument. It appeared to be growing breasts all up and down the outside. They were big black heavy breasts with even darker nipples. The tall white building was sprouting more breasts as the camera watched.

“Why is the TV turned to porn?” a white shirt said. He looked at me accusingly.

See, I was a janitor in the Before Days. That meant I cleaned everyone’s shit as well taking the blame for the shit, you know? I didn’t have a fancy college degree or knew all the technical computer terms. I was the lowest turd in that toilet and I always knew it.

“It’s the news,” a blue shirt woman said. A blue shirt worked the call centers while a white shirt was either management or sales.

“This is happening live,” she said.

“Bullshit,” the white-white shirt said.

The news put censor bars over the nipples; which was kind silly seeing how the monument was covered in hundreds of the tits.

“This has to be a hoax,” the white shirt said. “Isn’t it supposed to be the end of the world today? Some sort of Mayan horseshit?”

“That was last week,” the blue shirt said. “This week is supposed to be the Rapture I think.”

“I don’t remember tits like that being mentioned in the Bible,” I said.

The blue shirt made a face while the white shirt turned to me. “Watch your mouth, that kind of talk is sexual harassment.”

I was about to apologize and grovel to save my job of cleaning toilets when we got interrupted. The break room doors burst open and a red shirt stumbled in. Red shirt meant he worked IT which was almost as bad as a janitor. He had a furry thing climbing all over his chest and it looked like some kind of monkey except I couldn’t see the head. It was all furry arms and crawling all over him.

“What the fuck?” the white shirt yelled. The blue shirt just screamed.

I ran forward to help. I grabbed a furry arm and tried to pull. The fur was too slick and I had a hard time grabbing onto anything. It was like trying to grab sweaty ball hair. I still couldn’t see the head anywhere and I was right next to the damn thing.

I could see the cock though. Man, it was at least two feet of bright pink cock. It was as thick as my wrist too. The cock bobbed from the center of the arms. The furry arm thing was making its way up to the red shirt’s face.

“Get it off, get it off, get it OFF!” the red shirt screamed.

“Give me a hand here!” I yelled at the white shirt. The asshole ran past us and into the hallway. The blue shirt just kept screaming.

I tried to grab a better hold of the furry thing. I had my arm around one of its arms but the damn thing kept moving. I have to admit that the cock was damn distracting. I didn’t want to touch it and I swear the cock kept bobbing in my direction.

The furry thing was around the shoulders of the red shirt. It was getting his cock in front of the man’s face. It was going to face fuck this guy, I just knew it!

“Oh shi-GURG!” the red shirt said. The furry thing slammed its cock right into the red shirt’s mouth! The guy tried to keep his mouth closed but the monster just slammed it in anyway. Teeth went flying and the cock went right down the poor bastard’s throat.

The red shirt gagged and started twitching. His eyes looked up at me but he wasn’t fighting it anymore. The furry thing was pushing deeper and deeper into that guy’s throat. I didn’t know how he could take it.

The furry thing had stopped struggling and I couldn’t finally get a good look at it. The furry thing didn’t have a head. Now that it was standing still I could count the arms, all six of them. There wasn’t anything more to it. The thing was just fur, arms and cock

“What, what, what?” the blue shirt said.

“I don’t know but we got to go,” I said. She didn’t move. She just stared at the cock that was slowly disappearing into the red shirt.

I grabbed her by the hand. That was how it was back then. Blue shirts and white shirts knew all about business but when it came to practical matters, they would just stare dumbly at a broken light or a mess on the floor. They needed someone to fix the shit. I guess it was just habit that I took care of the shit as I saw it. That meant I had to drag her to safety because she was too much in shock to do it herself. We went out into the hallway.

It was worse out there. A security guard was pinned against the wall; another six legged furry thing fucking his face. On the floor was a white shirt woman, a furry thing sinking inch after inch of impossible cock into her throat. Three feet away from the breakroom door was another white shirt, laid out on the ground while a furry thing fucked his face like a car piston going uphill.

The blue shirt woman screamed louder. All three of the people getting face fucked looked at us with their eyes. None of them were moving but they were watching us. Their eyes followed as we passed them.

“We got to get to the evacuation route,” I said.

“Huh?” the blue shirt lady said. 

“That’s what they always say when there is an emergency, right? Take the evacuation route. We practice it every year.”

The lady looked at me. “I usually just hang out in the bathrooms when we have the fire drill. All the girls in my center do. We bring cookies.”

“Today you’re following the rules like the rest of us,” I said.

We headed for the stairs. The elevators were on our right and the blue shirt lady tried to go to them. I grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

“You’re not supposed to take the elevators. They might get stuck,” I said.

“It’s quicker than going down eight flights of stairs!” the blue shirt woman said.

DING! The elevator door opened. A dozen people fell out. A dozen furry cock monsters fell out with them. All of them were being face fucked.

“That is why you don’t take the mother-fucking elevator,” I yelled.

I dragged the blue shirt down the hall. All hell had broken out. People were being face fucked in the hallway. I looked into offices where people were being face fucked on their desks. We passed a call center with cubicles full of face fucked people. I just kept running and I kept holding onto the screaming blue shirt.

We found the white shirt from the break room. He was face down on the floor. A furry thing was on his back and it was jamming its obscene cock into the white shirt’s ass. The furry thing had pulled down the white shirt’s pants. I watched in shock as more of the monster’s cock disappeared down the white shirt’s ass.

“Ugggggg,” the white shirt moaned.

Even the furry cock things knew the guy was an asshole. We carefully stepped around him, afraid that the furry cock thing would attack at any moment. It didn’t. I guess it has what it wanted.

We ran down the hall and didn’t look back. When we reached the janitor’s closet I stopped. I popped the door open and looked inside.

“What are we doing here?” the blue shirt said.

“I thought we could use something as a weapon,” I said. That was my plan but standing there in the closet, my brain went blank. I wasn’t an action hero in a movie. I didn’t know how to turn all this shit in front of me into some exploding flamethrower shit. I was the damn janitor and this wasn’t some vomit that needed to be cleaned up. This was some freaky alien cock shit and I really, really, really wished I had done more with my life so I knew what to do when furry cock things try to fuck your face.

I grabbed a broom. It felt kind of silly to hit a monster with something that had bristles. I broke the broom over my knee. Now I had two sharp pointy things. I felt better.

I gave one to the blue shirt. “If something tries to fuck you, stab it.”

She nodded and looked at me like I was the smartest mother fucker she had ever met.

We went to the staircase. I kicked open the door and took a look. Nothing furry was crawling around.

Down the stairs we went. Eight fucking flights of stairs. Pure fear powered me down the first two flights but man, that didn’t last long. The stairs were cruel. The stairs punished my knees and my back. Blue shirt wheezed through most of it and I thought she was going to die there.

The stairs also gave me plenty of time to think. What were those furry things? Were they connected to those tits on the Washington Monument? Was this the end of the world? Was getting fucked in the face going to be last thing any of us do?

We reached the bottom of the stairs and I tried the emergency exit. It wouldn’t fucking budge. I am sure that is some sort of OSHA violation but the fuck good that would do us now. We had to go out through the lobby.

“FUCK!” the blue shirt screamed.

I saw it too. Right above the door to the lobby was one of those furry fuckers. It hung there like some sort of sweaty slick door hanger. It wasn’t moving and its cock hung limp form it’s body.

“Maybe it’s dead, or asleep,” I said.

That was when the blue shirt shoved me into it. I went face first into the furry thing and the damn monster sprang to life. The cock went hard and slapped against my chest. All six arms wrapped around me and hugged me tight.

I fell to the ground. I had the broken broom in my hand but the furry thing had a killer grip on my wrist.

“Help!” I screamed.

The blue shirt walked around me. She opened the lobby door and my leg was in the way. She kicked my leg. I was just in her way. Of course I was; I’m just a fucking janitor. To the white shirts, blue shirts and red shirts, I was just some asshole cleaned their messes and got in their way.

The blue shirt kicked me again. She hit me right in the knee and the pain made me move. She ducked through the door and left me and the furry thing behind.

I was fucked. The furry thing was incredibly strong. I couldn’t move my hand that held the broom stake. The cock was moving up my chest and I knew it was going to mount my face. The thing stank like sweaty balls.

The cock got in front of my face. It was huge. There was no way my jaw was going to get around all of it but I knew that it would.

The cock thrust towards my mouth. I dodged my head to the side. It rubbed against my check and hit the ground.

The furry thing got into a better position. The cock was directly above my head. The hand that held my wrist let go. It moved to grab my hair and keep my head still. It lined me up to take the monster’s cock.

My hand was free but my head was trapped. I had only a few seconds before my face was to be fucked. I stabbed upward. I stabbed like a fucking maniac. I stabbed like my mouth’s virginity depended on it.

Blood gushed from the monster. The cock slapped me in the face as it tried to get away. I kept stabbing.

The stake got stuck in the monster. The furry thing scrambled off of me and took the stake with it. I crawled as fast as I could to the door. The furry thing was thrashing on the ground as I escaped into the lobby.

The lobby was quiet.  I couldn’t see anyone. If I wasn’t covered in some monster’s blood, it might be hard to believe that the last half hour even happened.

I walked slowly to the door. My knees were killing me from the stairs. My heart was still pounding from the face pounding I almost got. I was in a daze.

There was a noise to my right. I jumped and instinctively protected my face. I didn’t see anything at first.

I saw her leg from behind the receptionist’s desk. The foot kicked and like a dumb ass, I walked around to get a better look.

It was the blue shirt. She was spread eagle face down on the floor. She had a furry thing fucking her ass. Another furry thing was shoving a cock into your mouth. They were double teaming her. I didn’t know how they got both of their cocks inside her body.

I slowly backed away. The broken stake was a foot away from her hand. I could have kicked it to her but fuck that. She made that mess when she shoved me in the staircase. She could clean it up. 

I went outside.  Something made of jelly and as big as a bus oozed by. I saw naked people trapped inside. A group of policemen were in a circle, jacking off onto something I didn’t want to see. Overhead something with giant tits flew in the sky.

The world had turned into one big fucking mess.

You (WIll) Have Been Warned

This Wednesday I have a horror story to post. It is a disturbing tale about the end of the world and although sex comes up, it is not the kind of sex that most people would enjoy. I don't know if it is a good horror story but it is mine and that is all that really matters. I love horror and at the young age of thirty-nine, I have decided that I would like to write some.

I am letting you know ahead of time because I understand that quite a few of you don't like horror and I respect that. I wouldn't want you sitting down to a story and reading something you would rather not. I debated opening up another blog but you know, this is my space and therefore this is going to be where I post stories.

I am debating how to show that a story of mine is horror and not erotica. I thought about putting Horror: Title of The Story in the blog post header but I imagine most people wouldn't catch it. I am considering adding a short disclaimer at the start of the story in italics but eww, disclaimers make me queasy.

Here is the thing about disclaimers; they are all relative. I happily watch Slasher movies, and monster movies but I can't handle Saw or Hostel. My wife those Saw and Hostel but gets squirrelly with Russian Soul Destroying horror. Meanwhile, Phantom of the Pulp is watching movies that would reduce me to a whimpering baby.  I slap a disclaimer or a warning on something and my next thought it is the disappointment when someone reads it and goes "Oh, that wasn't that bad."

Incidentally, the horror stories I have in mind use a concept that I flirted with last year. I have always enjoyed the paranoid nihilist fantasies of end-of-the-world predictions and I wanted to do my own. Instead of God, global warming or asteroids, I thought the End of the World should come about because of incredible and inconceivable sexual monstrosities/phenomenon/What the Fuck. Let's face it, most people are terrified of sex. A prudish conservative might fear communist devils from Kenya but they won't really shit their pants until they see cross-dressing lesbians who have sex with the blinds open. If the world is to end, it should be composed of what they fear most and what most people fear is cocks and pussy. I have read plenty of stories about bloody apocalypses and spiritual oblivion, but I have yet to read about some giant beast humping the St. Louis Arch while millions of humans with their higher brain functions blasted by the obscenity of it all masturbate in worship.

That seems overdue to me.

Play With This: The Lubricant Blob

It passed through the millions of little holes in your screens.  It slipped through the vents in your home.  It slid under the door into your bedroom.  It oozed up from your floor and came crashing down on your bed.  It got between your clothes and slipped over your skin.

It felt pretty great.

A year ago it was born in a sexual science laboratory.  Someone got a little careless and a tiny little accident happened.  A lot of sex lubricants mingled with some vibration nanobots and then somehow that got electrocuted and then someone spilled a carbonated drink.  The resulting self-recreating Lubricant Blob Monster slipped down a drain and traveled the pipes to freedom.

What did the Lubricant Blob Monster want?  Who knew?  It seemed to understand that it was made of mostly sexual aids and this drove its monstrous behavior.  It liked to get into tight places and it especially liked to get into tight people.  It oozed onto them with its incredibly slippery body and the billions of tiny vibrating nanobots excited sensations and feelings that most people had never experienced.  It slipped and slid over the bodies of the people it ‘attacked’ and then usually slipped away shortly after orgasm.  It was almost as if it knew it was no longer needed.

Thanks to the spilt carbonated drink, the Lubricant Blob Monster had a refreshing lemon lime flavor.

Play With This is a series of articles designed to give you things to play around with in your writing.  Feel free to borrow, modify, or completely change for your own stories.  

Fiction: Unidentified Bruising Asshole

Explorer’s Log: I am currently in week two of my four week journey to the star system designated Queen’s Intimate Clench by Royal Astronomers.  There is a lot of interference coming from a nearby pulsar and scans are limited.  My inability to conduct stellar surveys has given me a lot more time on my hands.  Nothing to report here.  If something happens, I’ll let you know.  End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: Where are these fucking bruises coming from?

Vaquel Di looked closer at the mirror.  Her brown body stared back at her.  She combed her fingers through her short pink hair.  She reached down and checked through her thick bush of pink pubic hair.  She lifted each of her heavy breasts and looked at her rib cage.  Finally, she turned around and examined her round ass.

She hissed.  There was a bruise on her right ass cheek.  It was as big as her hand.  The angry looking bruise appeared to be from a rough spanking. 

It had been weeks since she had been spanked.  Worse, the bruise hadn’t been there yesterday.  

Vaquel sighed.  That made for three mysterious bruises in the last three days.

The first bruise had been on her tit.  It looked a lot like a bite.  She just assumed it was a bruise she had missed when she fucked the fish alien two weeks ago.

The second bruise was on her inner left thigh.  It was small but tender as if it happened recently.  Vaquel couldn’t dismiss this one as easily.  As much as she fucked herself, Vaquel was familiar with every inch of her thighs.  That was when she knew something was happening.

The third bruise confirmed it.  Vaquel had spent the day being extra careful to not cause any sort of accidental bruises.  She had checked her biochemistry in the medical bay to make sure she didn’t have some sort of vitamin deficiency.  When she went to bed that night, she reduced the gravity of the ship to make for a gentler sleep.

It didn’t matter.  She still had a new bruise.  Something was happening when she slept.

Vaquel thought about reporting it back to Royal Navy Command.  She frowned at what they would make of it.  Deep Space Explorers frequently go insane.  If they became convinced that she was mentally unstable, then her future reports might not even get read.  The twenty year mission could be one long delay before being committed to a mental institute. 

“I am going to need answers before I report this,” she said. 

Vaquel spent the day planning.  The pulsar interference made scanning the nearby space impossible.  It didn’t stop her from recording the inside of the ship.

Before she went to sleep, Vaquel set up five separate recording devices.  She had the interior of the ship fully watched.  The next bruise she got, she would have video of it.

Vaquel went to sleep confident that she would have answers.

She woke up with a new bruise.  This time it was her right nipple.  There were teeth marks.  Her nipple was tender and sore.

Vaquel went to the camera pointed at her sleeping bay.  She activated the playback and watched.  Everything was normal until an hour after she started sleeping.  The video glitched and when it resumed, it was an hour before Vaquel woke up.

“Comet fuckers,” Vaquel swore.

She checked the second camera pointed at her sleeping bay.  It was the same.  The camera pointed at the main living quarters had malfunctioned as well.  The camera pointed at the airlock was glitched.  Even the camera in the navigation pod had malfunctioned.     

Vaquel felt a chill go down her naked body.  For the first time in a long time, she was very aware of how alone she was out here in unexplored space.  There was no backup.  There was no rescue possible.  Someone or something had invaded her ship, sabotaged her equipment and left bruises on her.  That same someone could just as easily kill her.

Vaquel spent the day in the medical bay.  The automated doctor was capable of performing surgery on her but it did less well with prescribing drugs for a hypothetical situation.  That was okay.  Vaquel was a smart woman. 

When she got frustrated with all the medical jargon she touched the bruise on her nipple.  The sensitive flesh flashed with pain.  Vaquel winced from the tenderness but it was exactly what she needed.  It was a reminder to keep studying.

That night, Vaquel took a double dose of a stimulants designed to help snipers maintain a seventy hour vigil on a target.  Vaquel planned to feign being asleep and then surprising her unknown assailant.  She kept a needle pistol under her pillow and a laser scalpel palmed in her hand.

She waited while the heart thumping stimulant raced through her body.

Vaquel awoke in the sleeping bay.  Her eyes popped open and she reached for the needle pistol.  It was still there but she didn’t feel any better.  Despite nearly risking a heart attack with the stimulants, she had still fallen asleep.

“Black hole sucking fuckers!” Vaquel swore.

She stumbled to the mirror.  There was no need to search for the bruise.  It was right there on her face.  A large hand print was on her left cheek.  Something with three fingers had slapped her.

Vaquel touched the bruise.  It hurt.  Whomever did this must have slapped the crap out of her. 

She planned to return the favor.  She thought about laying traps around the ship but the easy way that the intruder disabled the cameras was discouraging.  Setting the ship’s weapons to autofire was pointless due to the pulsar’s interference.  For a little while, Vaquel entertained the idea of applying a topical poison to her skin and poisoning her intruder but she gave that up when she realized that she had no idea what would be toxic to an alien life form. 

Vaquel went back to the medical bay.  Staying awake wasn’t the answer but maybe she could control how she slept.  She looked to see if she could induce a form of sleep that left her conscious. 

It only too her an hour to find a drug that would do what she wanted.  Sleep-Creep was designed by some fetishists three centuries ago.  Her medical bay synthesized it easily.

That night Vaquel went to bed.  The Sleep-Creep dissolved on her tongue.  A powerful lethargy came over her.  Her arms were too heavy to lift.  Eyelids dropped down to half open.  She watched her breasts slowly rise and fall as if she was in a deep sleep.

The probe ship shook as it made contact with something.  A blue light passed over the ship and systems shut down.  Vaquel tried to smile but her face wouldn’t respond.

The airlock opened.  A green alien stepped through.  He was long and spindly.  His head looked too big for the rest of his spindly body to support.  Blank black eyes peered out above a slender mouth.

The green intruder approached her sleeping bay.  The being carried no equipment and didn’t appear to be wearing clothes.  It reached for her breast with a three fingered hand that Vaquel recognized.  The hand matched the bruise on her face.

It grabbed her breast and squeezed.  Vaquel tried to wince but she was paralyzed.  The hand was much stronger than it appeared.  It crushed her breast like a vice.  No wonder she had so many bruises!

The alien toyed with her breast.  It sank spindly fingers into her soft flesh.  One finger rubbed her nipple and it grew hard in response.  The alien groped her breast with methodical attention.

Vaquel felt herself grow wet.  The bastard knew what it was doing.

The alien reached between her thighs.  A probing finger pushed past her pink pubic hair and into her brown pussy.  The finger entered her and slid deeply in. 

Vaquel’s mouth sighed.  Vaquel watched as he hips rose to meet the alien’s finger.  She experienced her body giving in to the alien’s manipulations.

The alien opened its mouth and lunged for Vaquel’s other breast.  Instinctively she tried to jerk back but her body refused to obey.  She watched in silent horror as the alien bit down on her nipple.

Sharp pain lanced through her breast.  He was ruthlessly biting her and there was nothing she could do.  Her back arched towards him on its own.  A moan escaped her lips.  Vaquel was furious but her body was in pleasure.

The alien finger fucked her faster.  The wet squishy sounds of his probing finger filled the sleeping bay.  Another finger rubbed against her clitoris, stimulating her with a rhythm completely divorced from the finger that was fucking her.  The third finger arced down between her buttocks and pushed firmly against her anus.  It was one hell of a talented hand.

Vaquel watched as the alien’s complexion changed.  The deep green skin was lightening to a dull gray.  The color change started on the alien’s head and was flushing down to his shoulders.

The alien released her nipple.  It kept finger fucking her but it raised its other hand.  Vaquel knew it was going to slap her but there was nothing she could it to dodge it.

SLAP! It slapped her across the face.  Her head snapped with the blow and her cheek burned from the contact. 

SLAP! It backhanded her and her face rolled in to the other direction.

SLAP! SLAP SLAP! SLAP! It slapped her head back and forth with a force that was unexpected for such a spindly body.

Through out it all, the other hand kept fucking her.  One finger slipped quickly in and out of her wet pussy.  Another finger pushed into her anus and then slowly pulled out.  The third finger rubbed her clitoris with surprising speed.  Vaquel wished she could see how exactly one hand could have such independently moving fingers but she was also content to just feel it all.

Vaquel’s body slowly betrayed her.  Her nipples were hard and her pussy was wet.  Every slap of her face made her clench tighter.  Every thrust into her anus was making her body shiver.  Every rub of her clitoris was curling her toes.  Every thrust into her pussy was bringing her closer to climax.  

She wanted to block the alien’s slapping hand.  She wanted to grab the alien’s head and twist his neck.  She wanted to lift her hips and fuck his fingers.  She wanted to do something, anything, but her body was helpless.  She could only watch as the alien slapped and fucked her.     

Vaquel climaxed.  Pleasure exploded within her body.  She cried out with a voice that wasn’t hers to control. 

Endorphins flooded her blood stream.  It interacted with subdermal implants that the automated doctor installed earlier.  The subdermal implants released an antidote to the Sleep-Creep her body was infused with. 

Vaquel cried out as she regained control of her body. 

The alien paused in mid slap.  His gray coloring reverted back to green.

Vaquel punched one of his over sized eyes.  The alien tried to pull back but Vaquel’s pussy was clenched tight around his finger.  He tugged but she wouldn’t let go.

She punched the alien again.  She punched him so hard that this time his finger popped out of her pussy.  As he fell backwards, Vaquel backhanded him with all of her might.

The alien’s head spun around so hard that the rest of his body spun with him.  The alien collapsed to the ground.

Vaquel climbed out of bed.  She tried to stand and fell to the ground.  The antidote hadn’t fully cycled through her body yet.

The alien emitted a terrified squeal and scrambled up to his feet.  He ran for the airlock.  He paused to look behind him.  Vaquel smiled at the handprint she had left on its face.

The alien ran through the airlock and it sealed behind him.  The ship shook as the alien’s ship unattached itself.

Vaquel was still smiling at the sight of the handprint on the alien’s face.  She had a feeling that the bruises were going to stop.

Fiction: Paddle Pawn

Uncle Bingo’s Pawn Shop asked me to come by and I was happy to do it.  Uncle Bingo is the only pawn store dealer in Georgia willing to buy used sex toys and furniture.  He also makes his own pulled pork in a shed in the back.  When I come to consult for him, he always offers me a free plate.  That is a good man.

I walked into the pawn store and Uncle Bingo waved at me from the front counter.  There was a blonde woman waiting there and she had a cute little ass.  Her face would have been pretty except that she was frowning and it looked like she frowned a lot.  Unhappy women were both a weakness and a curse to me.

“Hey Ken,” Uncle Bingo said.  “I would like you to meet Ms. Merrit here.  Ms. Merrit, this is Ken Hale.  He knows everything there is to know about paddles.”

Ms. Merrit’s frown didn’t improve any.  I guess being an expert on paddles didn’t impress her any.  “Pleased to meet you,” she lied.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said.  Oh Lord, this was one unhappy woman.  I wanted to run away from her something fierce.  I also wanted to ask her out.  I decided to stick to business.

“How are you doing, Uncle?” I asked.

“Not bad, Ken,” he said.  “The pig has been cooking since four this morning so it should be ready soon.  I was wondering if you could take a look at Ms. Merrit’s paddle for me first.”

“Sure, Uncle,” I said.  I knew it had to be a rare paddle because when it came to sex toys, Uncle Bingo was pretty damn smart.  The man had been selling handcuffs and crops since before I was born.  If he needed my opinion, it has to be for something special.

I was right.  He took out a beautiful paddle.  It had a rich brown color to it that soaked in the light.  Just by looking at it I could tell how well made it was.  When he handed it to me, I was struck by how perfect the weight was.  The leather grip felt good in my hand like it was made for it.  This was something special all right.

I looked at the base of the handle and saw what I expected.  It was signed RJ.  This could be an original Randy Jack paddle. 

“where did you get this?” I asked Ms. Merrit.

“It belonged to my father,” she said with a bit of disgust.  “I knew he was sleeping around with the older women in the neighborhood but it wasn’t until he passed away that I discovered that he had a sex dungeon in the basement.  I was going to throw it all out but my friend told me to take it to Uncle Bingo’s first.”

“Good thing you did,” Uncle Bingo said.  “A trash man wouldn’t pay you a cent for those magazines, suspension rig or leather handcuffs.  I was going to make her an offer on the paddle but I wanted you to see it first, Ken.”

“Well Uncle Bingo, what are your concerns with this paddle?” I asked.

“Mostly I just want to know if it is real,” Uncle Bingo said.  “I know paddles but I have only seen one other Randy Jack paddle.”

“Who the fuck is Randy Jack?” Ms. Merrit said.

“Randy Jack was a spanker who made his own paddles in the 80’s,” I said.  “He made paddles that were so good that other people tried to buy them from him.  He wasn’t really interested in money and the paddles took a long time to make.  He would give some away as gifts but that was it.  We’re aren’t even sure how many he made.”

“So they are kind of rare?” Ms. Merrit said.  Her frown started to improve ever so slightly.  When people hear the term, rare, they associate it with money.  Big money.

“A real Randy Jack paddle sold recently for ten thousand dollars,” I said.

“Fuck!” Ms. Merrit said.  Her face was  beautiful for a split second with happiness.

“That is IF it is real,” Uncle Bingo said.

“True,” I said.  “If it is not a real Randy Jack, then it is just a really nice paddle.  At that point, I wouldn’t put a retail value of more than fifty dollars.”

Ms. Merrit’s frown was back.  “How do tell if it is real?”

I took a deep breath.  “We got to test it.  I have swung a few Randy Jack paddles in my time.  I’ll be able to tell by the feel.”

“Then start swinging,” Ms. Merrit said.  Uncle Jack was trying really hard not to laugh. 

“It is not that simple,” I said.  “Swinging a paddle in the air is pointless.  Randy Jack made these paddles so that they would hit asses.  You can tell by the sound they make, by the way the feel feels in your hand when it impacts an ass and by the marks it leaves on the ass.  The only real way to test it is on an ass.”

“Don’t look at me,” Uncle Bingo said.  “My ass don’t get hit by nobody.”

“Can you get one of your employees?” Ms. Merrit said.

“I ain’t got no employees,” Uncle Bingo said.  “That is how I got such low overhead.”

“I will need to be the one swinging it in order to accurately judge authenticity,” I said.

Ms. Merrit bit her lip and frowned some more.  She was shaking her head.

“A little bit of spanking could make the difference between fifty and thousands of dollars,” I said.  I was trying to be helpful.  Like I said, I had a weakness for frowning women. 

“Could we go in the back and test it?” she asked.

“Ain’t got no back,” Uncle Bingo said.  “Don’t need a back when it is just me.”

“Can we at least lock the front door?” Ms. Merit said.

“What? And turn away customers?” Uncle Bingo said.

Ms. Merrit looked at the door and back at the paddle.  She was seriously debating it.  The frown lines on her face deepened. 

“Ms. Merrit, Sunday mornings are not a busy time.  If you agree to help test, I promise to make it as fast as possible.”  I didn’t mention that going fast might be good for her dignity but it wouldn’t be good for her ass.

“I guess that will have to do,” she said. 

I tried not to smile.  I was happy to smack her ass but I was more excited to swing a possibly real Randy Jack paddle. 

“Do I just turn around?” Ms. Merrit said.  She was this close to rolling her eyes.

“A proper test will mean a proper position.  Turn around bend over the counter here.  Also, you are going to need to take off your jeans and underwear.”

“Excuse me?” she said. 

“A paddle, especially a Randy Jack paddle was not made for clothed bottoms.  I will need to examine the marks it makes on flesh and the way the paddle absorbs the impact.  Even something as thin as panties can mess it up.”

“Son of a bitch,” Ms. Merit said.  “This thing better be real.” 

She turned around and kicked off her sneakers.  She unbuttoned her jeans out of my line of sight.  It is always strange what women find important for modesty’s sake.   That was fine with me.  I had no problem watching her ass as she slipped her jeans down over her dark blue panties.  She stepped out of her jeans and then yanked her panties down as fast as she could.  After stepping out of her panties, she bent over Uncle Bingo’s counter.   She was doing her best to not show off or make it exciting in any way.  She was exposing her ass under protest.

I love protest ass.  The paddle felt good in my hand as I stepped next to her.  I put my hand on the small of her back.  She jumped under my touch and I smiled.

Staying in position, she turned her head to look at me.  “Is touching me really necess-OW!”

I had a paddle in my hand; I had to use it.  It cut through the air like a knife.  It smacked into her bottom with a solid WHACK that sent shivers up my legs. 

Ms. Merrit was shivering too.  She started to stand up straight but my hand pushed her back down.

“I’m authenticating,” I said firmly. 

I smacked her ass again.  She had a nice plump bottom and the paddle sent shockwaves through her curves.  I struck her a little bit lighter than the first smack but I know to her inexperienced ass, she couldn’t tell the difference.  All she felt was a stranger smacking her bare bottom in a public store.

The paddle was great.  I smacked the sides of her ass, the center of her ass, and the top of her thighs. I sent a few swings downwards on her ass and a few more swings upwards from the bottom of her ass.  She wiggled and flinched but I never missed.  The paddle struck true with every swing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she cried.

I kept paddling.  I spanked her ten times as fast as I could.

“Fuck, fuck, SHIT, SHIT!” she cried.

I spanked her ten times in the exact same spot until it became unbearable to her.

“GOD DAMN IT FUCK!”

I spanked her with very light taps to see if I could manage the weight of the paddle.  After the spanking she had endured, even these light taps stung her poor bottom.

“Ow! Ow! OWW!”

After a good solid five minutes of paddling, I stopped.  I bent down to see her ass up close.  I swear I could feel the heat radiating up from her bottom.  That might have been my imagination but what wasn’t my imagination was the smell.  I could smell her desire and almost taste it on my tongue.

She tried to stand back up but my hand kept her down.  “Is it a real?” she asked.

“Might be,” I said.  “The marks are typical of his work.  There is a faint imprint from the outline of the paddle as well as some signature wavy lines from the way he polished the wood.  The paddle certainly feels right so far.”

“So we’re done?” Ms. Merit said.

“We ain’t done until my expert is satisfied,” Uncle Bingo said.  I wasn’t sure if he did that pun on purpose.

“I need to verify the stress capabilities of the paddle,” I said.

“What does that me-SON OF A BITCH!” 

I really let her bottom have it.  My arm pulled back as wide as possible and then swung towards her ass.  I threw all of my strength behind it and hit her ass with a terrifying WHACK that shook some glass figurines on a shelf.  Ms. Merit stood up and danced on her feet.  She grabbed her ass and spun around in shock. The frown was completely gone and all I saw was pure hatred.  It sent tingles down my cock.  She was also so angry with me, that she didn’t realize she was flashing me her little blonde bush.

“What the fuck?!?” she said.  Venom dripped with every word.

I held the paddle up.  “Not even a crack on it,” I said.  “Most paddles can’t handle that kind of stress but a Randy Jack can.”

Ms. Merit smiled.  I had damn near blistered her ass but she was smiling.  “So it is authentic?”

“Yep,” I said.  “As nice as it is, I would give it a retail value of about ten thousand dollars.  That is what rich fucks are paying for top of the line paddles right now.”

“Hot damn!” Ms. Merit said.

“He said retail,” Uncle Bingo interrupted.  “I got to make some money on it myself.”

Ms. Merit didn’t seem fazed by this news.  The smile wasn’’t moving.  She had no idea how hard of a negotiator Uncle Bingo was.

“You can pull your pants back up,” I said casually.

The smile vanished and turned into a blush.  Her face turned a brighter shade of red than her ass was.  She bent over get her panties, wincing as she moved.  She yanked them as fast as she could.

Ms. Merrit let out a scream as the fabric of the panties touched her tender ass.  I figured that hearing that scream was almost as good as the pulled pork I had coming to me.

“Ken, why don’t you go out back and have Junior get you a plate,” Uncle Bingo said. “ Me and Ms. Merrit are going to talk numbers.”

Thirty minutes later, I decided that the scream was better than the pork. 

Von Madd Laboratories Holiday Schedule

Greetings employees,

Thursday is Thanksgiving which means that our lesser scientist colleagues who value family over science will be taking the week off.  We will miss their camaraderie and presence but not their dedication to science which as I already mentioned, is less than ours.   

Despite our commitment to science, we will still celebrate Thanksgiving.  We have much to be thankful for as erotic scientists.  I shall personally share a few in an effort to muddle my age as your benevolent omniscient boss with some slight slivers of humanity.

I am thankful for all the amazing advances in vibration technology we have made this year.  Current customer satisfaction surveys rank ninety percent of our vibrator products at ‘Holy shit! I saw a divine entity!’ level of satisfaction.

I am also thankful for the many successful investments we have made in sexual education.  It is always a joy to see young college students coming into our laboratories, learn sexual pleasure and innovation and then leave to take that knowledge into the general population.  It is an even greater to joy test these students personally and discover how much they learn.

Lastly, I am thankful for the creation of the Disciplintron M3 which allows me to continue to administer corporal punishment to the senior staff without the threat of spraining my wrist again.  Some say the robot strikes too hard but I say you shouldn’t have fucked up in the first place.

Now that I have reaffirmed that I am sort of like you, I would like to discuss our holiday plans for the laboratory.

Science will be conducted on Monday and Tuesday.

Science will also be conducted on Wednesday except that our Culinary Pleasures Department will engage in extensive meal preparations.  Dr. Gustav assures me that there will be avians of plump sizes.  There will also be many side dishes that will serve as flavor lingerie for the main dishes.  Dr. Gustav has promised me personally that there will be addition of Aphrodisiac #6 in the stuffing this year.

Holiday Celebrations will be conducted on Thursday.  We shall begin with a mandatory lazy period in the morning.  At 10am sharp, we shall commence with the Thanksgiving Orgy in the main Conference Bedroom.  At noon we shall break for Thanksgiving Lunch in the Cafeteria.  Afterwards, scientists are free to continue having more sex, retire to their quarters for a nap or perhaps do administrative paperwork. 

Holiday Laziness will continue on Friday.  We all remember what happened last year when Dr. Presper, high on turkey sandwiches, made a miscalculation while mixing lubricants.  Security tells me that they still think the Lubricant Blob Monster still lurks in the sub-basement levels.

Happy Thanksgiving!
Dr. Otto Von madd

Play With This: Sex Coach

Some people don’t want a therapist.  They don’t need to explore their inner feelings and they sure as fuck don’t want to talk about fathers.  There is a stigma to therapy and some people can’t accept that they need medical help to become a better person.

The Life Coach industry recognizes this.  They help people with their lives by reskinning the therapy process with the sports coach model.  Every one has seen the movie where the inspirational coach helps the normal guy become a super athlete.  People understand this fantasy trip and they are more than willing to enter into a student-mentor relationship than they are a patient-doctor relationship.  On paper it might be the same thing but it is all about how you present it.

Life coaches don’t ask questions as much as they make demands.  They are part cheerleader and part drill sergeant.  They don’t talk about your mother; they talk about how much ass you are on the verge of kicking.  They don’t put the focus on your past as much as they focus on how you are making the future better. 

As you might guess, life coaches are completely free of getting any sort of therapist or medical license.  This might be why a large number of life coaches spend a great deal of time making their money by telling people how they can become life coaches.  One might suspect that it is some sort of self replicating scam.  I bet it is like most things in that it depends on who is doing it.

Meet Veronica Umaria.  She is a second generation Japanese-American.  Her appearance gives her that exotic touch that people want in a life coach while her completely American upbringing makes her very approachable.  Veronica is a Sex Life Coach and she is very good at her job.

Need to spice up your marriage?  Veronica will provide hands on advice and training. 

Single and frustrated?  Veronica won’t offer any dating advice but she will teach you twenty different ways to masturbate that will spoil you for human contact.

In the middle of a hot night of lovemaking and suddenly things turn cold?  Veronica will take your call in the middle of the night and help with your problem.  Shit, she might just do a house call.

Need to grudge fuck someone for personal petty reasons?  Veronica has a nine step regimen that will get you into grudge fucking shape.

You might look at these list of services and conclude that Veronica is some sort of super sex therapist.  Remember, it is all in the delivery.

“Now Carlos, you might think you have a small penis but I want you to think of that penis as a stiletto of sex.  That is not a pencil dick, it is a precise instrument of pleasure.  You’re going to learn how to use your tool to get into places women never knew they had.”

Or,

“Geena, you can fuck yourself better than that.  Pound that pussy!  You spent money on a dildo worthy of a pussy and you’re using it like it a virgin.  Get in there!  Remember your training!  Fuck, fuck FUCK! You’re worth it!”

At this point you might be thinking of Veronica as a sort of dominatrix.  You’re close.  She will give you structure and a sense of order but she isn’t spanking you, she isn’t there to turn you on and she is not going to punish you if you are bad.  If you don’t follow her training then you fail yourself and Veronica will be happy to point that out to you.

Play With This is a series of articles designed to give you things to play around with in your writing.  Feel free to borrow, modify, or completely change for your own stories.