Claire Currie was being tested. Her boss, Mr. Dillon, had taken her for a long cab ride that ended on a busy street corner. They stood together on the corner while Mr. Dillon looked at his watch. Claire didn’t know exactly what the test would be, but after spending a year with Mr. Dillon, she had come to know his moods. Today he was short-tempered, very arrogant and constantly looking at her cleavage. Yes, today was a testing day for sure.
She tried to relax but it was impossible. She was an assistant librarian for the Collette-Ashbee collection; relaxing was not part of the job description. The librarians gathered erotic books from all over the world so that the books could be preserved and stored for the enjoyment of the collection’s elite owners. In the course of a year, Claire had personally handled books that were worth millions of dollars. She had read erotic works written in secret by famous authors. She had masturbated to stories and poetry that defied imagination. Such constant stimulation did not make for a soothing lifestyle.
At least this time, Claire had an idea of what the test was about. About two weeks ago, Mr. Dillon had given her a book and told her to study it. It was a silly little book from the ’60s called “Sandy Asks for It.” In overly dramatic language, the book told the adventures of a nymphomaniac who manages to fuck half of Chicago, primarily through begging and throwing herself at men. The plot was nonexistent, and the characters had obviously been designed by someone with limited experience with women.
As a modern feminist, Claire was offended by the shallow female characters. As a black woman, she was offended by the racial stereotypes. As a British citizen, she was offended by the poor grammar and word choices. Claire studied it nonetheless. She researched the publishing company, the author and even the kind of paper used to print the book. She probably knew more about this book than the author ever had. Whatever test Mr. Dillon had for her, Claire was determined to be ready for it.
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Mr. Dillon finally spoke. “Ms. Currie, I see that your attire is professional and appropriate for a librarian today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dillon,” Claire said. It was a curious statement for him to make. She was wearing the same thing that she wore every day; button-down shirt that stretched across her generous breasts, a black skirt and thigh-high stockings. Today was Wednesday, so her brassiere and panties were electric blue as per Mr. Dillon’s schedule. Her black hair was held back by a silver headband, and gold-framed glasses were the only adornment he would allow on her face. The three-inch heels were a bother out here on the street, but a year of practice would keep Claire on her feet.
“Your technical skills have become quite good,” Mr. Dillon continued.
Claire was so shocked by this rare praise that she couldn’t help interrupting. “You really think my skills have become good?”
Mr. Dillon blinked in surprise. “I meant to say they were adequate, of course. Barely that, to be honest.”
Claire nodded. Mr. Dillon felt that praise only weakened librarians’ abilities, but sometimes he forgot himself. She had learned to cherish his praise, no matter how much he denied it a moment later.
“As I was saying,” Mr. Dillon said, “your skills at indexing and book care are adequate, but there is more to being a librarian than just filing and identification. There is an art that we of the Collette-Ashbee collection have perfected over the years when dealing with the collectors and sellers of our precious prizes.
“It is the art of seduction.”
Claire smiled. She thought of the vigorous fucking Mr. Dillon had given her the previous day. “I thought we had covered that last night, Mr. Dillon.”
He frowned. “I am not talking about fucking booksellers, Ms. Currie. We are librarians, not prostitutes. I am talking about the art of seduction.”
He stepped closer and placed a finger on Claire’s chin. He traced his fingernail across her lips. Despite the busy street, Claire found herself getting immensely wet.
“Ms. Currie,” he continued, “people who buy or collect erotic books do so because they like erotica. Now, as we well know, there is a huge difference between actual sexual relationships and the ones depicted in erotica. Erotica is fantastic, unreal and masturbatory. It taps not into what is real but into what readers wish was real. Do you understand?”
Claire nodded.
“Good,” he said. “One of the tools we use when we negotiate with sellers is to exploit their interest in erotica. Every collector wishes that the crazed sluts he reads about were real. Or perhaps she wishes that every man secretly desired to be chained down by a woman. Whatever their particular fetish, if we can figure it out and exploit it, we can often drive down the price of the book.”
“How do we do that?” Claire asked. “As you said, we are not prostitutes. We can’t be expected to fuck every collector who has a book to sell.”
“Of course not,” Mr. Dillon said. “However, the very unreality of erotica means that most collectors are helpless when they actually encounter a person who seems to have stepped out of an erotic book. A seller who refuses to budge a cent on his price becomes far more willing to lower it if he is talking face to face with a Catholic student who really does like to be spanked. Seduction is the art of getting what you want by exploiting your target’s sexual preferences. For example, you paid a lot more attention to me when I touched your lips just now.”
Claire blushed.
“In one week,” Mr. Dillon continued, “we will visit a bookseller I know by the name of Theodore Sweitz. He claims to have a pristine copy of O.M. Murphy’s classic, ‘The Reluctant Actress.’ The copies the Collette-Ashbee collection possesses are in very poor condition. If his copy is as perfect as he says it is, he can command his own price. Our job as librarians is to use whatever powers we have to stretch the budget of our employers. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Mr. Dillon,” Claire said.
“And now we come to your test,” Mr. Dillon said. “I gave you a book to study. You have had two weeks. I want you to pretend that I am a stodgy seller of books who loves begging, simpering nymphomaniacs. You are to talk and act like the character Sandy. You may start now.”
“But Mr. Dillon,” Claire began, “there is no way I could act like that sniveling idiot. That was a character written by some misanthrope who thinks women are cock-hungry sluts.”
Mr. Dillon looked unimpressed. “You certainly have the pointless whining down, but it is a poor imitation. Take off your panties.”
Claire looked around. The street was crowded with impatient people rushing to their destinations. She and Mr. Dillon were already getting in people’s way. It was an impossible place to fulfill his request. Claire knew that was the point.
“Right here, Mr. Dillon?” she asked.
He frowned. That was his only answer.
Claire took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and started hiking up her skirt. One hand snaked under her skirt and tugged at her panties. Her other hand kept her skirt pulled down so she wouldn’t flash the entire city. Taking off one’s panties with one hand is hard enough, but trying to do it quickly and discreetly only made it harder. She could feel the heat rushing to her face as she pulled her panties down past her stocking-covered legs. Claire nearly fell over when she tried to pull her foot out of her panties, and of course, Mr. Dillon was no help whatsoever.
As she stood back up, she could feel her face. “Here they are,” she said.
He took them. “Good. You have until we reach the street corner to beg me like Sandy would.
Mr. Dillon started to walk briskly down the street. Claire chased after him. She was aware of the looks on people’s faces. Most were confused, but far too many of them smirked at her display.
“Wait, Mr. Dillon,” she said. “I can do this, just give me a moment.”
He kept walking. “I doubt you have more than a minute before we reach the corner.”
The corner was awfully close. She stepped closer to him and almost whispered her response so as to not attract any more attention. “Oh, please, Mr. Dillon, please fuck me. I would love to have your big old cock inside of me again.”
“Pathetic,” Mr. Dillon said. “Sandy never spoke softly. She was too horny to be discreet. Here we are at the corner. Undo five of the buttons on your shirt. And hurry before the light changes.”
Claire looked down, “Five? That will go below my bustline.”
“Aren’t you the clever fashion expert?” Mr. Dillon said. “Perhaps you should be a dressmaker instead of a librarian.”
She said nothing. A group of people was waiting for the light to change. The last thing she wanted to do was argue this in front of them. Maybe if she did it quickly enough, no one would notice.
Claire reached up and undid the first button and then the second. A man standing beside her started staring when she got to the third. So much for discretion. The man licked his lips when she opened the fourth and the electric blue bra was revealed. When she undid the fifth, she thought she heard him moan.
The walk signal flashed, and Claire breathed a sigh of relief. The relief faded as she walked across the street. Drivers turned their heads as her open blouse flashed her electric blue bra. As people walked toward her, their eyes snapped to her, searching for some hint of dark breast.
When they reached the other corner, Mr. Dillon spoke again.
“Beg, Ms. Currie,” he said. “Beg as if your brassiere depended on it.”
Mr. Dillon walked away, and once again, she had to chase him. This time, she didn’t lower her voice or try to be discreet. She knew his threat was serious, and there were still several long blocks back to the hotel.
“Please!” she cried. “Please let me suck your cock.”
A pedestrian whipped his head around at her plea.
“More creativity, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said.
“Oh, Mr. Dillon,” she said, “I would lick you like you were ice cream until your cock sent all of your syrup down my throat.”
A passing woman pointed at Claire. “Have more pride in yourself, woman! No man is worth it!’
Claire ignored her. They were almost to the street corner, and Mr. Dillon walked awfully quickly. “Mr. Dillon, please let me lick your balls, rub your cock all over my face and jack you off until you come. I want you to use me like the slut that I am. Please let me suck your cock. I would do anything!”
“You can suck mine!” a young man said.
“Fuck off,” Claire snapped. She clapped her hand over her mouth. Claire couldn’t believe she had spoken that way.
“Almost,” Mr. Dillon said. They were at the corner now. “I want your bra in my hand before the light changes.”
Claire was sure that there were more people on this corner than there should have been. Maybe Claire’s vocal theater had attracted the crowd. She knew there was no getting around Mr. Dillon’s request, though. She would just have to do it very quickly.
There is an art to removing a bra without taking off your shirt. There was no art now. Claire reached into her open blouse and slid down one strap. With the blouse already half-open, it was easy to pull her arm out.
The only issue was that there were now six guys and two women looking right at her. All eight whistled in appreciation. Claire quickly worked her other arm out as the group watched. When she slid the cups under her breasts, the people watching stared at the wonder of her heavy breasts. She quickly reached behind her to unclasp the bra, not realizing that this arching of her back would force her breasts out of the already mostly open blouse. There was appreciative applause until she pulled her shirt back over herself. The crowd groaned in disappointment.
When the light changed, Claire kept her hands on her shirt as she crossed the street. She tried to keep it shut, but her large breasts were straining against the material of her silky blouse. If anything, keeping her shirt tightly shut was just emphasizing her breasts more.
“Keep your hands behind your back,” Mr. Dillon said once they had crossed the street.
Claire did as he commanded. She tried not to look down at her open shirt although she could feel the wind on her breasts. The only problem with looking straight ahead was that she kept seeing how people were staring.
“One more block to go,” Mr. Dillon said. “Impress me, Ms. Currie.”
Claire didn’t even want to know what new humiliation would result from a bad performance. She tried to think back to that insipid book. Sandy talked endlessly about her pussy. Claire tried to get over her distaste for the character and just give Mr. Dillon what he wanted.
“Please, Mr. Dillon,” she said loudly and clearly. “My little pussy is so empty right now. I want you to fill it with that big hot cock you have. I want you to stick it right in me till I come all over it. Fuck me from behind, fuck me with you on top, or fuck me any way you want, just fuck my biff until you shoot all inside me.”
“Very good,” Mr. Dillon said. “Unfortunately, ‘biff’ is a British term, and Sandy was a rather poorly traveled American. That was not an acceptable performance.”
Before Claire could argue, a man tapped her on the shoulder.
“Your shirt is open,” he said.
“Yes, I know,” Claire responded. “I’m a librarian.”
The man was too confused to respond. Or maybe he was too dazzled by her large tits.
Claire was about to try again with Mr. Dillon when she realized they were at the hotel.
“Damn it,” she said.
“I know. Your skills are truly awful,” Mr. Dillon said. “Open the sides of your skirt up to mid-thigh. Go on; we’re not going inside until you do it.”
Claire bent over, and her heavy breasts fell out of her shirt. She ignored them, but it was hard to ignore the whistles and shocked cries of people passing by. Claire reached for the bottom of her skirt and popped the buttons as quickly as she could. Button by button, she revealed more of her slender legs. When she reached her thighs, she tried to stop, but Mr. Dillon insisted that she keep opening buttons until the skirt was open to a mere three inches below her waist. Now anyone could see the tops of her stockings, which made her look even more undressed.
“Am I going into the hotel like this?” Claire asked.
“Of course, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “Maybe if you appear to be a nymphomaniac slut, you’ll do a better job of sounding like one.”
Claire nodded. They walked towards the hotel entrance. She felt the wind whipping through her skirt and over her bare sex. The doorman greeted Mr. Dillon with a smile; he greeted Claire with an open mouth of surprise.
They walked into the hotel, and Mr. Dillon’s brisk pace slowed to a bored stroll. Claire could feel the eyes of everyone in the lobby. They could see her bare legs with every step she took. They could see into her blouse as she jiggled toward the elevator. Claire could see the questions in their eyes, as well as their lust and their silent accusations. They thought she was a slut at best, a whore at worst.
“May I help you?” a hotel manager offered. He said it with the air of disapproving authority, but Claire could see the desire in his eyes when he looked at her chest.
“No, thank you,” Mr. Dillon said. “We’re just heading to our room. Carry on.”
“Uh, OK,” the manager said. He kept staring as they walked past. Claire realized that Mr. Dillon was right; people do lose their minds when confronted with a living fantasy.
They entered the elevator, and Claire was relieved to see that it was empty.
“One more try, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “You have seven floors to succeed.”
The elevator started to rise. Claire’s heart raced with excitement. Back in the hotel room, they might fuck. Walking around nearly naked had terrified her, but it had also aroused her. She was wet and ready. She was tingling with adrenaline and terror. She seized her own desire and tried again.
“Mr. Dillon, please, oh, please, fuck me silly. I would love nothing more than to throw my ankles over your shoulders as you fuck the hell out of me. I want it bad, Mr. Dillon. Worse than you can even imagine. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. You can penetrate me anywhere you want. Fuck my ass, fuck my mouth or fuck my cunt; just fuck me.”
Mr. Dillon smiled. “Take off all of your clothes and hand them to me.”
Claire groaned. She took off her shirt first. “What did I do wrong?”
“The word ‘penetrate’ is a bit too highbrow for the character of Sandy,” Mr. Dillon said. “The repetition of the words ‘fuck me’ was very lyrical but again, a little too good for Sandy. She is a simple-minded slut. You sound like a very intelligent woman.”
Claire had removed her skirt while Mr. Dillon was talking. she began rolling down her stockings. “Thank you, I think. What do we do now that I am naked?”
The elevator door opened. “You will come to the room, of course,” Mr. Dillon said. “Once we’re inside, I will try to fuck some sluttiness into you.”
He stepped into the hallway. Claire followed, naked and humble. She carried her clothes as they slowly made their way down the hall. No one saw them, but it didn’t matter. Claire was humiliated by her inability to perform as a librarian. The nudity was just a footnote.
Inside their room, Mr. Dillon taught her how to beg.
To be continued,
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Monday, October 27, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Shon's Seven Somethings
I despise Memes. I see them as the cellulite of the blogging world. They exist everywhere and quite frankly, we could all stand to lose them. Having said that, Roxy said some nice things about me lately so I will sorta participate just this once.
The Meme is seven facts about the blogger. Isn't that Monday through Sunday for most blogs?
Fact One- When I was a teenager stealing Playboys from my stepfather's stash, Ms September 1977 was my favorite Playmate. Holy shit she was hot. I wanted to marry her. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to be her best friend. As I grew older I always had a fond place in my heart for her.
Till I hit 25 and realized she looked a lot like my mom.
Fact Two- You know how some actors want to direct? Well as a porn writer, what I really would love to do is write songs. Sigh, I have so many bad songs stashed in my scraps folder. I even wrote a song for my Volleyball story called 'Two Against the Sand'. It's atrocious.
Fact Three- 'Planet Terror' is the first movie my girlfriend and I saw together. It was so over the top, so damn funny and so thrilling that we bonded through shared trauma. She kept her face buried in my shoulder for about 20% of the movie. No one else we know seems to like the movie which is cool. It's our movie.
Fact Four- I have this missing gene that affects how I get along with other sex bloggers. I don't understand why people that post links to other sex articles somehow makes the link poster the kick ass one. To me they are the waiter that brings me the food some awesome chef made. I don't get it.
Fact Five- I know all the songs to 'The Producers'. Actually, that movie subtly changed my life. Stop the world, I want to get on. Okay, it took me a few years after seeing it to change my life but I sure as hell played it a lot during my divorce.
Fact Six- I get so much inspiration out of other people's writing blocks. When I read a blog where someone has quit writing, I feel like I have to write harder so I don't end up like them. I am not sure if my subconscious thinks we're in some sort of a race where the last one still writing wins.
Fact Seven- I like Witches. I have a few that I collect and keep around my desk. I prefer my witches sexy, silly and with really big hats.
The Meme is seven facts about the blogger. Isn't that Monday through Sunday for most blogs?
Fact One- When I was a teenager stealing Playboys from my stepfather's stash, Ms September 1977 was my favorite Playmate. Holy shit she was hot. I wanted to marry her. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to be her best friend. As I grew older I always had a fond place in my heart for her.Till I hit 25 and realized she looked a lot like my mom.
Fact Two- You know how some actors want to direct? Well as a porn writer, what I really would love to do is write songs. Sigh, I have so many bad songs stashed in my scraps folder. I even wrote a song for my Volleyball story called 'Two Against the Sand'. It's atrocious.
Fact Three- 'Planet Terror' is the first movie my girlfriend and I saw together. It was so over the top, so damn funny and so thrilling that we bonded through shared trauma. She kept her face buried in my shoulder for about 20% of the movie. No one else we know seems to like the movie which is cool. It's our movie.
Fact Four- I have this missing gene that affects how I get along with other sex bloggers. I don't understand why people that post links to other sex articles somehow makes the link poster the kick ass one. To me they are the waiter that brings me the food some awesome chef made. I don't get it.
Fact Five- I know all the songs to 'The Producers'. Actually, that movie subtly changed my life. Stop the world, I want to get on. Okay, it took me a few years after seeing it to change my life but I sure as hell played it a lot during my divorce.
Fact Six- I get so much inspiration out of other people's writing blocks. When I read a blog where someone has quit writing, I feel like I have to write harder so I don't end up like them. I am not sure if my subconscious thinks we're in some sort of a race where the last one still writing wins.
Fact Seven- I like Witches. I have a few that I collect and keep around my desk. I prefer my witches sexy, silly and with really big hats.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Erotica Threat Level: Halloween Orange
It's been a strange October for me. Long time readers may have wondered why I didn't do a month long celebration of Halloween this year. The short anwser is that I have not been in the usual festive mood. The long anwser is that the month of September was so stressful work wise that I promised myself that I wouldn't push myself to do anything in October. I gave myself the month off and it's been kind of nice.
Another reason is that when I do get in a spooky mood, I've worked on my yet-to-be-titled BDSM Werewolf story. The falling temperatures and overcast days have been great for getting into the mood. I've written some really nice Rude Sex scenes and I think you're going to like. You might be reading it in January but you'll like it.
What is interesting to me is that a lot of the blogs I read in all sorts of topics have all communicated a lack of interest in Halloween this year. I am going to go out on a shaky limb and blame the election coming up. For a lot of people, a bad outcome in the election would be more horrible than a zombie plague. I have a lot of anxiety related to this election and my brain can only process so much stupidity in such a short time.
Next week I'll post a three part Librarian story and I might make the schedule Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday with a Halloween post on Friday. I might just round up my favorite horror related books and movies this year. I usually hate top ten lists but this year I have read some really great horror and I want to share.
*Female Ash picture from Dragon*con2008.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Fiction: Party Girl
“Just one more cock,” Shelly thought. She was tired but it was a good kind of tired. Her jaw hurt, her nipples were sore and her pussy was tingling from how many people had been between her thighs tonight. Shelly should be thinking about heading to bed, but damn, she wanted just one more cock. Or pussy. It was that kind of party.
What a party it was! Shelly couldn’t remember a better party than this. Von Madd Laboratories was throwing an orgy for all the success they have had recently. Shelly couldn’t even remember what exactly it was that was so amazing. One thing she did know was that when scientists as a sexual science laboratory party, they do a lot of fucking. Everyone is already in a state of horniness, but throw in a mood of celebration and you have an orgy that would make Romans blush.
Shelly looked around the room. There was a guy she didn’t recognize. He was bald but it worked for him because he was so muscular. She wondered what field he worked in. More importantly, she wondered how he would work her.
To read more, click Whole Post
She pulled herself off the couch. Her shirt and bra were missing, lost long ago when the party started. That was ok; her pert breasts had no complaints tonight. Shelly shook her long blonde hair and let it fall across her chest. She adjusted her thong and went up to him.
“Hey you,” she said. “What are you celebrating tonight?” She handed him a drink she forgot she had.
He took a sip of the drink and smiled. “I just finished a Universal Vibrator! It uses biorhythmic feedback to adjust its vibrations.”
Shelly was feeling tipsy but she was still a genius. “Oh? How on earth did you overcome Morgan’s Theory of Increasing Tightness?”
The man’s eyes lit up. One thing brilliant minds like is another brilliant mind that understand how hard the solved problem was. He took another sip of the drink and moved closer to her.
“I used an adjusted Tess scale that factored in body heat,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it did!”
Shelly nodded. “Of course! Oh man, why haven’t anyone else thought of it? Dr. Von Madd is going to make you a division head with this development! What’s your name? I want to know who’s ass I should start kissing”
He laughed. “My name is Alec, Alec Mier. What’s your name?”
“My name is Shelly,” she said. “Hey, have you tested your Universal vibrator yet?”
“A few times,” Alec said. “Why? You want to come by the lab and try it?”
“I tell you what,” Shelly said. “I’ll give you a blowjob right now if you let me test it later.”
Shelly watched Alec choked on his drink. She said nothing as he looked around. At the bar, an Asian man was vigorously fucking Ms. Rogel from Applied Lubrications. Two women he recognized from Intelligent Restraints were 69-ing on a couch. A gorgeous black Amazon was giving handjobs to two members of Human Resources. Guys were often taken back by Shelly’s directness but they soon realized it was just that kind of a party.
“Sure!” he said.
Shelly dropped to her knees like she had done a thousand times at this party. She tugged his pants down where his hard cock was already waiting for her. Into her lips it went and Shelly moaned. His cock belonged in her mouth.
“Oh god!” he cried. His hand went to her hair. He gently stroked her hair but Shelly knew what he wanted. She reached up and closed his hand around her hair and he tightened his grip. He knotted her long blonde hair in his hand and Shelly could feel his cock grow harder.
She sucked. Her fingers toyed with his balls. Her tongue played with the base of his cock. Her lips experimented with the amount of suction. Shelly knew a hundred different tricks to do with her mouth.
Alec’s knees began to buckle. “Oh God, I need to sit for this.”
Shelly chuckled, which had an interesting effect on Alec with his cock still in her mouth. She placed her hands on his thighs and gently pushed him backwards. He took a step back, and Shelly followed on her knees, still keeping his cock in her mouth.
“Oh god, oh god,” Alec repeated. Shelly looked up at the blissful look on his face and knew he liked it. She followed him on her knees, extending her neck just a bit so it would look more like he was dragging her by his cock.
When they finally reached a chair, Alec collapsed into it. Shelly deep throated him, sucking him all the way down. She reached for his hand and placed it on one of her breasts. Her tender nipples, played with so many times tonight, became so hard under his fingers.
“Damn, your breasts are perfect,” Alec said.
Shelly said nothing but she sucked harder. Her breasts had received a million compliments but it always gave her a slight tingle to hear it.
“You know,” Alex said between moans, “I had always heard about the Party Room but I never guess it was this nice. I mean, a non stop orgy that has lasted for over a year? That just seemed like a myth until I made my breakthrough and got invited. What did you do to get invited?”
Shelly paused in her sucking. She placed his cock on her cheek and thought about it. It didn’t come to her at first. Too many vodka tonics and celebrant scientists had literally fucked her brains out. As she ran her tongue over the tip of his cock, it came back to her.
“Oh yeah, my team finished a prototype for the new Sexual Artificial Intelligence,” Shelly said. “The new version will have better false memories and will believe it’s human.”
“Damn,” Alec said with admiration. “Your team perfected the Happy Sexbot Project? That is a miracle in programming.”
Shelly smiled and squeezed his hand against her breasts. “Funny, I thought how your cock felt in my mouth was a miracle.”
Alec groaned as she took him back in her mouth. She stuck her tongue out and licked his balls while his cock was deep in her throat. His hands squeezed around her breasts and her hair in appreciation. Shelly knew he was close.
“Oh yes, this is a miracle too,” he said. “But think about it, an artificial intelligence that doesn’t know it’s unreal. That would solve the problem of a self aware intelligence mutating into unwanted protocols. It would also be great for those users who prefer the illusion of a human partner. Plus, it would be pretty sweet for the A.I. All it cares about is sex when it gets laid next. I’m almost jealous.”
Shelly sucked harder. Her thighs squirmed as desire filled her. She thought about what Alec said. That would be awesome. Sucking, fucking and flirting forever sounded pretty damn nice.
But in the meantime, there was Alec’s cock. Shelly felt the rush of semen hitting her throat. Alec’s groans were music to her ears. He clenched hard on her breast and the pain filled Shelly with pleasure. She always got off on the other person’s orgasm. It made her feel so complete.
Shelly held on, sucking and licking until his wilted cock slipped out of her mouth. Only when she knew he was completely sated did she rest her head on his thigh. He looked down on her with the adoration that comes from afterglow. Shelly’s afterglow was just as real.
“Oh thank you,” Alec said.
“Thank you,” Shelly said. “And congratulations on your discovery.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Wow, I feel drained and I just got here. Oh well, Maybe I should go ahead and leave. I have a twenty-four hour pass. I could always come back later. Hey, what are your plans?”
Shelly sighed. She had sworn on one more cock but you know; now she was really in the mood for pussy. Or maybe she wanted a woman to fist her. Shelly couldn’t pick just one. It was that kind of a party.
“Oh, I’ll be around,” she said.
What a party it was! Shelly couldn’t remember a better party than this. Von Madd Laboratories was throwing an orgy for all the success they have had recently. Shelly couldn’t even remember what exactly it was that was so amazing. One thing she did know was that when scientists as a sexual science laboratory party, they do a lot of fucking. Everyone is already in a state of horniness, but throw in a mood of celebration and you have an orgy that would make Romans blush.
Shelly looked around the room. There was a guy she didn’t recognize. He was bald but it worked for him because he was so muscular. She wondered what field he worked in. More importantly, she wondered how he would work her.
To read more, click Whole Post
She pulled herself off the couch. Her shirt and bra were missing, lost long ago when the party started. That was ok; her pert breasts had no complaints tonight. Shelly shook her long blonde hair and let it fall across her chest. She adjusted her thong and went up to him.
“Hey you,” she said. “What are you celebrating tonight?” She handed him a drink she forgot she had.
He took a sip of the drink and smiled. “I just finished a Universal Vibrator! It uses biorhythmic feedback to adjust its vibrations.”
Shelly was feeling tipsy but she was still a genius. “Oh? How on earth did you overcome Morgan’s Theory of Increasing Tightness?”
The man’s eyes lit up. One thing brilliant minds like is another brilliant mind that understand how hard the solved problem was. He took another sip of the drink and moved closer to her.
“I used an adjusted Tess scale that factored in body heat,” he said. “I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it did!”
Shelly nodded. “Of course! Oh man, why haven’t anyone else thought of it? Dr. Von Madd is going to make you a division head with this development! What’s your name? I want to know who’s ass I should start kissing”
He laughed. “My name is Alec, Alec Mier. What’s your name?”
“My name is Shelly,” she said. “Hey, have you tested your Universal vibrator yet?”
“A few times,” Alec said. “Why? You want to come by the lab and try it?”
“I tell you what,” Shelly said. “I’ll give you a blowjob right now if you let me test it later.”
Shelly watched Alec choked on his drink. She said nothing as he looked around. At the bar, an Asian man was vigorously fucking Ms. Rogel from Applied Lubrications. Two women he recognized from Intelligent Restraints were 69-ing on a couch. A gorgeous black Amazon was giving handjobs to two members of Human Resources. Guys were often taken back by Shelly’s directness but they soon realized it was just that kind of a party.
“Sure!” he said.
Shelly dropped to her knees like she had done a thousand times at this party. She tugged his pants down where his hard cock was already waiting for her. Into her lips it went and Shelly moaned. His cock belonged in her mouth.
“Oh god!” he cried. His hand went to her hair. He gently stroked her hair but Shelly knew what he wanted. She reached up and closed his hand around her hair and he tightened his grip. He knotted her long blonde hair in his hand and Shelly could feel his cock grow harder.
She sucked. Her fingers toyed with his balls. Her tongue played with the base of his cock. Her lips experimented with the amount of suction. Shelly knew a hundred different tricks to do with her mouth.
Alec’s knees began to buckle. “Oh God, I need to sit for this.”
Shelly chuckled, which had an interesting effect on Alec with his cock still in her mouth. She placed her hands on his thighs and gently pushed him backwards. He took a step back, and Shelly followed on her knees, still keeping his cock in her mouth.
“Oh god, oh god,” Alec repeated. Shelly looked up at the blissful look on his face and knew he liked it. She followed him on her knees, extending her neck just a bit so it would look more like he was dragging her by his cock.
When they finally reached a chair, Alec collapsed into it. Shelly deep throated him, sucking him all the way down. She reached for his hand and placed it on one of her breasts. Her tender nipples, played with so many times tonight, became so hard under his fingers.
“Damn, your breasts are perfect,” Alec said.
Shelly said nothing but she sucked harder. Her breasts had received a million compliments but it always gave her a slight tingle to hear it.
“You know,” Alex said between moans, “I had always heard about the Party Room but I never guess it was this nice. I mean, a non stop orgy that has lasted for over a year? That just seemed like a myth until I made my breakthrough and got invited. What did you do to get invited?”
Shelly paused in her sucking. She placed his cock on her cheek and thought about it. It didn’t come to her at first. Too many vodka tonics and celebrant scientists had literally fucked her brains out. As she ran her tongue over the tip of his cock, it came back to her.
“Oh yeah, my team finished a prototype for the new Sexual Artificial Intelligence,” Shelly said. “The new version will have better false memories and will believe it’s human.”
“Damn,” Alec said with admiration. “Your team perfected the Happy Sexbot Project? That is a miracle in programming.”
Shelly smiled and squeezed his hand against her breasts. “Funny, I thought how your cock felt in my mouth was a miracle.”
Alec groaned as she took him back in her mouth. She stuck her tongue out and licked his balls while his cock was deep in her throat. His hands squeezed around her breasts and her hair in appreciation. Shelly knew he was close.
“Oh yes, this is a miracle too,” he said. “But think about it, an artificial intelligence that doesn’t know it’s unreal. That would solve the problem of a self aware intelligence mutating into unwanted protocols. It would also be great for those users who prefer the illusion of a human partner. Plus, it would be pretty sweet for the A.I. All it cares about is sex when it gets laid next. I’m almost jealous.”
Shelly sucked harder. Her thighs squirmed as desire filled her. She thought about what Alec said. That would be awesome. Sucking, fucking and flirting forever sounded pretty damn nice.
But in the meantime, there was Alec’s cock. Shelly felt the rush of semen hitting her throat. Alec’s groans were music to her ears. He clenched hard on her breast and the pain filled Shelly with pleasure. She always got off on the other person’s orgasm. It made her feel so complete.
Shelly held on, sucking and licking until his wilted cock slipped out of her mouth. Only when she knew he was completely sated did she rest her head on his thigh. He looked down on her with the adoration that comes from afterglow. Shelly’s afterglow was just as real.
“Oh thank you,” Alec said.
“Thank you,” Shelly said. “And congratulations on your discovery.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Wow, I feel drained and I just got here. Oh well, Maybe I should go ahead and leave. I have a twenty-four hour pass. I could always come back later. Hey, what are your plans?”
Shelly sighed. She had sworn on one more cock but you know; now she was really in the mood for pussy. Or maybe she wanted a woman to fist her. Shelly couldn’t pick just one. It was that kind of a party.
“Oh, I’ll be around,” she said.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Flow To Write
'Tao of Photography' is a beautiful book that encourages photographers to use Tao principles in their photography. It encourages the photographer to escape their preconceptions, their judgments and their own expectations to create art. I am terribly oversimplifying the book but I find explaining Taoist ideas is a lot like explaining your dreams. You know what you were feeling at the time of the dream, but you might never get someone else to feel the same way you did.
I bought the book to help with my photography and the irony is that I take far less pictures now. I like composing pictures for my photography but after reading the book I am far more sensitive to when I am in a creative mind set and I do my best to take advantage of it right there and then. In photography that means grabbing a model, some props and a location. For writing it means I start telling the story right there. As you can see, writing is just easier.
I find it funny how restrictive I can be on myself as an unpaid erotica writer. I have a Librarian story that I plan to post next week but I thought of a new story today and I almost didn't write it because I felt that readers might get bored with the same characters again. I'm writing a long BDSM story and interrupting it for this extra Librarian story seems like a lack of discipline. I have two Halloween stories that would be more appropriate for the month so shouldn't I be working on them instead?
The answer is simple: write the story that is in me now. A year ago I wouldn't have done that. That's crazy but it's how it is.
I never think that stories come from a divine place or some sort of magic muse but I do think that the energy and will to do the work needed to tell those stories might be. Writing can be a pain sometimes but when it is not, when it is bubbling and flowing like sex then it feels like magic. I feel like Harry Potter wielding the One True Ring while getting a blowjob from Lara Croft. When you get that feeling, it's crazy not to write whatever is pushing that feeling through you.
Being more creatively spontaneous goes against everything I do actually. I like schedules. I love making lists. I play resource management computer games for fun. Hell, I like making big long stories and their outlines. I still plan to do that. The change comes from knowing when to stop and seize a creative moment when it happens without talking myself out of it.
I bought the book to help with my photography and the irony is that I take far less pictures now. I like composing pictures for my photography but after reading the book I am far more sensitive to when I am in a creative mind set and I do my best to take advantage of it right there and then. In photography that means grabbing a model, some props and a location. For writing it means I start telling the story right there. As you can see, writing is just easier.
I find it funny how restrictive I can be on myself as an unpaid erotica writer. I have a Librarian story that I plan to post next week but I thought of a new story today and I almost didn't write it because I felt that readers might get bored with the same characters again. I'm writing a long BDSM story and interrupting it for this extra Librarian story seems like a lack of discipline. I have two Halloween stories that would be more appropriate for the month so shouldn't I be working on them instead?
The answer is simple: write the story that is in me now. A year ago I wouldn't have done that. That's crazy but it's how it is.
I never think that stories come from a divine place or some sort of magic muse but I do think that the energy and will to do the work needed to tell those stories might be. Writing can be a pain sometimes but when it is not, when it is bubbling and flowing like sex then it feels like magic. I feel like Harry Potter wielding the One True Ring while getting a blowjob from Lara Croft. When you get that feeling, it's crazy not to write whatever is pushing that feeling through you.
Being more creatively spontaneous goes against everything I do actually. I like schedules. I love making lists. I play resource management computer games for fun. Hell, I like making big long stories and their outlines. I still plan to do that. The change comes from knowing when to stop and seize a creative moment when it happens without talking myself out of it.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Commission: Claire Currie by Alex Dai
The Collette-Ashbee Collection places many demands on Claire Currie. Here Claire is developing her upper body strength by carrying stacks of priceless erotica while her panties have been pulled down to her knees. Why is her shirt open? Because Mr. Dillon likes it open.
Claire was drawn by the always awesome Alex Dai.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Certainty
I love writing short stories but the really awesome thing about writing a lengthy story is that every morning I know the anwser to that horrible question- what am I writing today? There is none of that fingernail biting where I beg my brain to come up with something brilliant and new right now.
Today I am writing about more rude sex with strangers. There might be a scene where a man eats while getting a blowjob. It depends on how I feel at lunch.
Today I am writing about more rude sex with strangers. There might be a scene where a man eats while getting a blowjob. It depends on how I feel at lunch.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Rough Stuff
The current long story I am writing has a lot of rough sex. I laugh as I type that because I shy away from cutting, asphyxiation and punching, which means that my version of rough sex would seem like Sandra Bullock movie to someone like Tess. I write scenes of fucking that lightly touches on ideas of humiliation and coercion but really, how rough can it be when it's all consensual?
It's got me thinking that I need a new term. Maybe I should call it Rude Sex. The guy shoots his load in an inconvenient place and says unflattering things. The women don't mind having ripped clothes and use four letter words. Slut, bitch and whore are terms of affection. It's the kind of sex that gives boys the wrong idea about women but gives some women delicious warm feelings inside. It's the kind of sex that gets you uninvited to blogger parties.
Man, I got turned on just typing that. I need to get back to writing some more rude sex.
It's got me thinking that I need a new term. Maybe I should call it Rude Sex. The guy shoots his load in an inconvenient place and says unflattering things. The women don't mind having ripped clothes and use four letter words. Slut, bitch and whore are terms of affection. It's the kind of sex that gives boys the wrong idea about women but gives some women delicious warm feelings inside. It's the kind of sex that gets you uninvited to blogger parties.
Man, I got turned on just typing that. I need to get back to writing some more rude sex.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Commission: Choice by Dualmask
This is the Choice, my favorite character from City of Heroes. She's drawn by Dualmask who has many talents but fight scenes and great looking black women are what caught my eye. He graciously drew this for me before putting his commissions on hiatus to pursue his own projects. Here Choice is fighting local crime at the start of her career when she wore spandex. Not the best option for clothing when fighting thugs. There is something ironic to me that Choice is experiencing a Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction.
Obligatory character biography information-
Jalle Brown came from a poor neighborhood and from a terrible family. She watched her older siblings fall into the traps that a bad neighborhood offered, from going into crime to getting knocked up and married. Jalle decided that she was going to be the only one to decide her own fate.
Meanwhile, in the Spring of 2002, so many choices were being taken away from people. The freedom for gays to marry, the freedom to control your own body and the freedom to vote was all under attack by a corrupt government and a shell shocked population. Jalle realized that the entire country that she loved was being denied the ability to choose their destinies.
So after training in the Martial Arts and attaining complete mastery of her body, she donned a mask and put on some spandex. She fought crime and championed human rights as the Choice.
Now let me tell you something, playing a black female civil rights superhero in an online game was an eye opener. Racial discrimination from other players was a strange thing to run into in a game where we fight Nazis. Even though I was playing one of the most powerful classes, a lot of male players resented having a female doing the bulk of the heavy lifting. People were also offended by even the name of Choice, often asking me if I was some sort of abortion champion.
What I found interesting was that I listed my character's history in her bio but I never talked in game about her beliefs. 99% of the time I was just kicking bad guys, and the other 1% I was helping newbies out, but I would get these angry messages from assholes that were offended that the character existed. That only encouraged me to keep playing her.
The flipside was that I also received messages from players who were inspired by her. I got a lot of compliments from black players who were happy to see a black hero that was not a disco throwback with a giant afro. I think it was important for them to see a black hero someone was taking seriously. That has informed my writing on a lot of levels.
Thankfully after the 2004 elections the racism and sexism died down. I kept playing City of Heroes till my divorce and I loved every minute of it. Choice is one of my favorite characters that I have ever made and perhaps one of the ones that I am most proud of.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Fiction: Master of Spanking Part Six
Michael looked at the cave of the Great Dragon. It seemed kind of small.
"I'm just saying, that for a Great Dragon, he has a cave that looks smaller than my Geo back home."
Lo nodded. "The Master of Spanking is very perceptive."
Michael waited for more but nothing came. "That's your polite way of saying 'so what', isn't it?"
Lo gave him a very slight nod.
"Well Lo," Michael began, "if I don't come out alive-"
"The Master of Spanking has nothing to fear," Lo interrupted him. "When I first met you, you were nothing more than a lowly delivery boy. You defeated the Eight Sisters with only a few cuts that have mostly healed. Mei Rou herself vouches for you, what more can we ask?"
"Thanks Lo, that means a lot coming from you," Michael said.
"I mean, who cares if you were never trained in the Hundred Hand Slap? What does it matter if you have not plunged your hands into burning sand every day since you were an infant? Why, I bet it won't even come up that you couldn't name the sixteen pressure points that makes an ass clench! You'll be fine."
"Ok, you can stop making me feel good now," Michael said. "Let's do this."
Oh, one last thing, Master," Lo said. "Mei Rou asked me to tell you something. She said that the fire in her bottom is almost cool, and she humbly requests that you return to her to reignite it."
Michael smiled. "God, I love older women."
Michael went into the cave. The sunlight lit the cave until Michael was twenty feet in. Darkness engulfed him and when he turned around, he couldn't even see the way out.
"Who comes to feed me another skull?" a voice called out. The voice was loud but oddly feminine. It reminded Michael of phone sex commercials.
"Me, Michael Yan!" he responded.
"Are you another fool that others call Master?" the voice asked. "I already shitted one of you fools already."
Michael could feel a hot breath on his neck. It was like standing in front of a furnace.
"I have it damn good authority that I am the real Master actually," Michael said.
A light appeared behind Michael. When he turned around, he saw a giant woman, twenty feet tall. Everything about her was massive. Her breasts were the size of oil barrels. Her hips were as wide as minivan. Her ugly face was as big as the moon.
"Do you think you can walk in here and spank me, little man?" the woman roared.
Michael didn't anwser at first. Instead he listened to his soul. His heart was loud, but not scared. His mouth watered at the thought of such a big ass. His hands itched to move.
He laughed. "Great Dragon, your ass is mine!"
He jumped behind the woman. Swinging his entire arm, he struck her buttocks with a mighty WHAP!
The giant woman screamed and shrank down ten feet. A red stripe appeared on her ass.
"Little man, I am not some bitch that can be spanked into submission!" the Great Dragon roared.
Michael shook his head. "That's not what I think."
He jumped up and grabbed her by the ear. The giant bent over with his hand. Michael grimaced as the Great Dragon roared in pain. Michael knew that hurt because it was the same thing Grandmother Yan would do when she spanked him as a child.
"Bad dragon!" Michael scolded. His hand smacked her ass with outraged fury. This wasn't the kind of spanking Michael gave Mei Rou, this was the spanking you gave a naughty child: harder and faster with the sacred justice that comes from being a fed up parent. He didn't spank as much as he whupped.
The Great Dragon screamed in pain. The Giant changed shape but Michael held onto her ear. Now she was human size and shaped like a porn star in all the right places.
"Let me go and I'll fuck you crazy," the Great Dragon said.
Michael kept spanking.
The Great Dragon changed shape again. Now she was the ugliest woman Michael had ever seen. Hair grew from her ass, moles decorated her skin.
Michael kept spanking.
The Great Dragon changed shape again. Now she was a man, with a hard cock bouncing between his legs.
Michael kept spanking. "An ass is an ass," he said.
The Great Dragon changed shape again. Now she was in the shape of Grandma Yan, yelling and cursing just like she would.
Michael kept spanking. "That's just sick," he said.
The Great Dragon changed shape again. Now she was huge. Covered in scales and sporting a great horned head, her body snaked and coiled like a serpent for miles.
"After I eat you, I am going to eat that thrice damned monastery and all that live within it! Their skulls will be shitted all over the world!" The Great Dragon's breath was like a butcher's shop.
Michael paused. Somehow, he still had the Great Dragon by the ear, and somehow his hand was still inches from her ass, but now he saw the Great Dragon in it's true glory. It was immense. It was like a mountain that hated. How dared he think he could defeat something so magnificent.
He thought of Mei Rou and her perfect ass. Michael knew he needed to be worthy. He didn't want to save the world in that moment as much as he wanted to save one particular ass.
Michael spanked the Great Dragon even harder. The Great Dragon grew smaller and smaller. He spanked until the Great Dragon was smaller than a gecko, and then Michael let him go. The Great Dragon ran into a corner and whimpered. It would be another fifty years before it grew brave enough to be a threat again.
Michael knew then the secret of the Master of Spanking. It wasn't about knowing special moves, or receiving special training. It was about loving the asses of the world more than any fear of death.
The Master of Spanking walked out of the cave. He didn't slow down when Lo dropped to his knees and sang the Master's praises. The Master could care less. He knew that his concubine was waiting for him and that her bottom needed him
"I'm just saying, that for a Great Dragon, he has a cave that looks smaller than my Geo back home."
Lo nodded. "The Master of Spanking is very perceptive."
Michael waited for more but nothing came. "That's your polite way of saying 'so what', isn't it?"
Lo gave him a very slight nod.
"Well Lo," Michael began, "if I don't come out alive-"
"The Master of Spanking has nothing to fear," Lo interrupted him. "When I first met you, you were nothing more than a lowly delivery boy. You defeated the Eight Sisters with only a few cuts that have mostly healed. Mei Rou herself vouches for you, what more can we ask?"
"Thanks Lo, that means a lot coming from you," Michael said.
"I mean, who cares if you were never trained in the Hundred Hand Slap? What does it matter if you have not plunged your hands into burning sand every day since you were an infant? Why, I bet it won't even come up that you couldn't name the sixteen pressure points that makes an ass clench! You'll be fine."
"Ok, you can stop making me feel good now," Michael said. "Let's do this."
Oh, one last thing, Master," Lo said. "Mei Rou asked me to tell you something. She said that the fire in her bottom is almost cool, and she humbly requests that you return to her to reignite it."
Michael smiled. "God, I love older women."
Michael went into the cave. The sunlight lit the cave until Michael was twenty feet in. Darkness engulfed him and when he turned around, he couldn't even see the way out.
"Who comes to feed me another skull?" a voice called out. The voice was loud but oddly feminine. It reminded Michael of phone sex commercials.
"Me, Michael Yan!" he responded.
"Are you another fool that others call Master?" the voice asked. "I already shitted one of you fools already."
Michael could feel a hot breath on his neck. It was like standing in front of a furnace.
"I have it damn good authority that I am the real Master actually," Michael said.
A light appeared behind Michael. When he turned around, he saw a giant woman, twenty feet tall. Everything about her was massive. Her breasts were the size of oil barrels. Her hips were as wide as minivan. Her ugly face was as big as the moon.
"Do you think you can walk in here and spank me, little man?" the woman roared.
Michael didn't anwser at first. Instead he listened to his soul. His heart was loud, but not scared. His mouth watered at the thought of such a big ass. His hands itched to move.
He laughed. "Great Dragon, your ass is mine!"
He jumped behind the woman. Swinging his entire arm, he struck her buttocks with a mighty WHAP!
The giant woman screamed and shrank down ten feet. A red stripe appeared on her ass.
"Little man, I am not some bitch that can be spanked into submission!" the Great Dragon roared.
Michael shook his head. "That's not what I think."
He jumped up and grabbed her by the ear. The giant bent over with his hand. Michael grimaced as the Great Dragon roared in pain. Michael knew that hurt because it was the same thing Grandmother Yan would do when she spanked him as a child.
"Bad dragon!" Michael scolded. His hand smacked her ass with outraged fury. This wasn't the kind of spanking Michael gave Mei Rou, this was the spanking you gave a naughty child: harder and faster with the sacred justice that comes from being a fed up parent. He didn't spank as much as he whupped.
The Great Dragon screamed in pain. The Giant changed shape but Michael held onto her ear. Now she was human size and shaped like a porn star in all the right places.
"Let me go and I'll fuck you crazy," the Great Dragon said.
Michael kept spanking.
The Great Dragon changed shape again. Now she was the ugliest woman Michael had ever seen. Hair grew from her ass, moles decorated her skin.
Michael kept spanking.
The Great Dragon changed shape again. Now she was a man, with a hard cock bouncing between his legs.
Michael kept spanking. "An ass is an ass," he said.
The Great Dragon changed shape again. Now she was in the shape of Grandma Yan, yelling and cursing just like she would.
Michael kept spanking. "That's just sick," he said.
The Great Dragon changed shape again. Now she was huge. Covered in scales and sporting a great horned head, her body snaked and coiled like a serpent for miles.
"After I eat you, I am going to eat that thrice damned monastery and all that live within it! Their skulls will be shitted all over the world!" The Great Dragon's breath was like a butcher's shop.
Michael paused. Somehow, he still had the Great Dragon by the ear, and somehow his hand was still inches from her ass, but now he saw the Great Dragon in it's true glory. It was immense. It was like a mountain that hated. How dared he think he could defeat something so magnificent.
He thought of Mei Rou and her perfect ass. Michael knew he needed to be worthy. He didn't want to save the world in that moment as much as he wanted to save one particular ass.
Michael spanked the Great Dragon even harder. The Great Dragon grew smaller and smaller. He spanked until the Great Dragon was smaller than a gecko, and then Michael let him go. The Great Dragon ran into a corner and whimpered. It would be another fifty years before it grew brave enough to be a threat again.
Michael knew then the secret of the Master of Spanking. It wasn't about knowing special moves, or receiving special training. It was about loving the asses of the world more than any fear of death.
The Master of Spanking walked out of the cave. He didn't slow down when Lo dropped to his knees and sang the Master's praises. The Master could care less. He knew that his concubine was waiting for him and that her bottom needed him
Monday, October 13, 2008
Better Sex <> Better Writing
In my marriage I was not what you could call remotely sexually happy. My ex-wife and I had incompatibility issues that arose shortly after we got married. This is what happens when you marry at 19. I started writing mostly as a way to express myself sexually in a guilt free environment. I wrote my dreams, my fantasies and most importantly, I wrote about sex the way I wanted it to be, not the way it was.
What started as self therapy became a hobby I really enjoyed. Sex as a topic is rarely handled well in fiction. A majority of erotica stories that are written feel incredibly shallow to me, while the other end of the spectrum are stories that have sex but the real focus is some sort of disgust with the sex. I think sex can be fun, intelligent and arousing, and I love writing it that way.
A few years into our marriage, my ex-wife suggested we try polyamory and get our own partners. I suspect she suggested it because she was bisexual, although some days I suspect she suggested it because it took the pressure off of her to have sex with me. Regardless of the motives, it put me in perpetual dating head space for a good ten years. I was already writing and my fan mail was giving me a swollen head to go with my swollen member. My stories advertised me as a sexual person in a way, and I met lovers through my stories.
That in itself is not a healthy way to go. Since writing is something that intrigues me, I often write about things that interest me at the moment, not things that I am interested in all the time. I often met submissives who wanted the absolute strength my dom characters had instead of the rather overly sensitive hard on myself man that I am. It was like I was always answering someone else personal ad.
It also exerted a pressure on my stories that I was not aware of till lately. I edited myself because whether I was looking for lovers or not, I knew my stories reflected me. I over explained myself in my stories. I avoided topics like male submissives because I know writers have their sexual identities branded through their stories. If I was to ever met that dream submissive, it wasn't going to be because I wrote about the perfect female dominatrix.
I could write a ton about what it is like to be in a poly situation where your primary relationship is in trouble, but that is something I don't even like thinking about much less writing. Let me just point out that it made me feel like I was single during my marriage in that I didn't have any one person who accepted me sexually the way I am. I would meet submissives who accepted me, which could be empowering but when my ex-wife would inevitably hate their guts, I would break up with them. It would strip me of any comfort I derived as well as really wrecking my self esteem.
On a more visceral level, being sexually frustrated meant I wrote a lot of stories just to have some sort of release. I didn't write as much as I transferred. I think I wrote a lot of great stories that way but it is impossible to write objectively in that kind of frame of mind.
So here I am now, divorced and living with a wonderful woman who loves me completely. My ex-wife would sometimes say that if I ever were sexually happy, I would stop writing. I used to agree with her. Now I know better. Being with a woman who accepts and loves me hasn't stopped my writing but it has certainly changed it.
For one thing, I feel like I have permission to do stories without fear of how a potential girlfriend will interpret it. The Victoria storyline in my Volleyball story was a female dominant story which is something I would never dream of attempting. Writing about a submissive male doesn't make me submissive, but man, when you're in that uncertain dating world, you don't take chances.
The other thing I have noticed about my writing is my willingness to go out on a limb. I always want my readers to be entertained, and I never take them for granted, but I don't have the added pressure of trying to attract anyone. I can write Master of Spanking (which concludes tomorrow!) and not worry about if I am coming across as too unserious.
I go back through some of my older stories and I wonder if I have lost some of the desperate passion that permeated my work but you know, I just don't care. Last night I wrote the first chapter to my BDSM Werewolf story and if I do say so myself, that shit was hot. Getting laid certainly hasn't affected my judgment on what makes for a hot scene.
I think having a better sex life doesn't make for better writing, but I do know it makes for a lot happier writer. I hope in the coming years that my well laid ass can still entertain and hold your attention.
What started as self therapy became a hobby I really enjoyed. Sex as a topic is rarely handled well in fiction. A majority of erotica stories that are written feel incredibly shallow to me, while the other end of the spectrum are stories that have sex but the real focus is some sort of disgust with the sex. I think sex can be fun, intelligent and arousing, and I love writing it that way.
A few years into our marriage, my ex-wife suggested we try polyamory and get our own partners. I suspect she suggested it because she was bisexual, although some days I suspect she suggested it because it took the pressure off of her to have sex with me. Regardless of the motives, it put me in perpetual dating head space for a good ten years. I was already writing and my fan mail was giving me a swollen head to go with my swollen member. My stories advertised me as a sexual person in a way, and I met lovers through my stories.
That in itself is not a healthy way to go. Since writing is something that intrigues me, I often write about things that interest me at the moment, not things that I am interested in all the time. I often met submissives who wanted the absolute strength my dom characters had instead of the rather overly sensitive hard on myself man that I am. It was like I was always answering someone else personal ad.
It also exerted a pressure on my stories that I was not aware of till lately. I edited myself because whether I was looking for lovers or not, I knew my stories reflected me. I over explained myself in my stories. I avoided topics like male submissives because I know writers have their sexual identities branded through their stories. If I was to ever met that dream submissive, it wasn't going to be because I wrote about the perfect female dominatrix.
I could write a ton about what it is like to be in a poly situation where your primary relationship is in trouble, but that is something I don't even like thinking about much less writing. Let me just point out that it made me feel like I was single during my marriage in that I didn't have any one person who accepted me sexually the way I am. I would meet submissives who accepted me, which could be empowering but when my ex-wife would inevitably hate their guts, I would break up with them. It would strip me of any comfort I derived as well as really wrecking my self esteem.
On a more visceral level, being sexually frustrated meant I wrote a lot of stories just to have some sort of release. I didn't write as much as I transferred. I think I wrote a lot of great stories that way but it is impossible to write objectively in that kind of frame of mind.
So here I am now, divorced and living with a wonderful woman who loves me completely. My ex-wife would sometimes say that if I ever were sexually happy, I would stop writing. I used to agree with her. Now I know better. Being with a woman who accepts and loves me hasn't stopped my writing but it has certainly changed it.
For one thing, I feel like I have permission to do stories without fear of how a potential girlfriend will interpret it. The Victoria storyline in my Volleyball story was a female dominant story which is something I would never dream of attempting. Writing about a submissive male doesn't make me submissive, but man, when you're in that uncertain dating world, you don't take chances.
The other thing I have noticed about my writing is my willingness to go out on a limb. I always want my readers to be entertained, and I never take them for granted, but I don't have the added pressure of trying to attract anyone. I can write Master of Spanking (which concludes tomorrow!) and not worry about if I am coming across as too unserious.
I go back through some of my older stories and I wonder if I have lost some of the desperate passion that permeated my work but you know, I just don't care. Last night I wrote the first chapter to my BDSM Werewolf story and if I do say so myself, that shit was hot. Getting laid certainly hasn't affected my judgment on what makes for a hot scene.
I think having a better sex life doesn't make for better writing, but I do know it makes for a lot happier writer. I hope in the coming years that my well laid ass can still entertain and hold your attention.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Master of Spanking Part Five
Michael Yan's ass hurt. He thought it was appropriate. The Monastery of the Master of Spanking apparently only had the hardest stools in the world for their guests to sit on. Michael suspected there was a deep meaning there but he was too much of an American to know what it was.
He sat there along with ten other Chinese men who happened to share his same birthday. Lo had gone inside some grand hall to discuss his merits with the other monks. From what Lo said, the monks were debating whether or not to even test Michael because he was born in America. From what Michael understood, reincarnation was old fashioned when it come to traveling.
Michael had tried to engage the other candidates in conversation but none of them spoke English. That didn't stop the others from talking to each other. Michael closed his eyes and let their incomprehensible speech lull him into a trance.
It was quite peaceful actually. The chatter had it's own rhythm and Michael began to imagine a form of spanking that would be based on speech patterns. He had thoughts like these all the time but for once, he suppressed his sense of shame long enough to explore the idea in his mind.
The chatter stopped. Curious, Michael opened his eyes to see why they had stopped. Standing before him was the most beautiful he had ever seen. She was older than him, at least forty years old but in her eyes he saw something he had never seen before. It was understanding.
"You," the beautiful woman said in terrible English but with a wonderful voice. "Come with me."
"Um, sorry," Michael said. "I am supposed to wait here for the monks."
The woman smirked. "And do you always do what old men tell you to do?"
Michael thought of his father whom he always seemed to infuriate. "No," Michael said. He stood up and followed her.
When the beautiful woman turned around, Michael looked down at her bottom. Although she was heavily wrapped in robes, Michael could see the shape of her ass underneath. It was the most beautiful ass outline he had ever seen. A tear came to his eye.
They walked down halls and through doors.
"What is your name?" Michael asked.
"Mei Rou" she said.
She led him into a bedroom.
"Umm, my name is Michael," he said.
"I know your true name," she said. "You were thinking about spanking. I saw the look on your face. My beloved had the same look many many times."
"Who was your beloved?" Michael asked. He found a strange sense of anger within him towards this asshole that Mei called beloved.
Mei Rou smiled. "He was you, in another life."
She unfastened the belt to her robe. It fell around her ankles. She was nude underneath her robe. Mei Rou turned her back to him and showed Michael her ass. It was just as beautiful as he had imagined.
"I have to tell you," he said. "They don't know if I am really the Master. They still haven't decided."
Mei Rou shook her head and moved to the bed. She bent over in a graceful motion like a Queen. Her ass was higher than her head. She looked over her shoulder towards him and smiled.
"And how will they know?" she asked. "Tests? I was the favorite concubine of the Master. When he died, I served Shi Da. He was a good man, but no Master. I am the only test you need."
Michael swallowed hard. Desire was filling his mind but what made him hesitate was just how beautiful Mei Rou's ass was. He was afraid. He wanted to be the Master of Spanking just to be worthy of spanking that ass.
"Strike me," Mei Rou said. "I have waited twenty-five years to feel the hand of the Master again. Spank me, your most faithful lover."
Michael closed his eyes. He let go of his fear. When he opened his eyes again, the sight of the most perfect ass in the world greeted him.
He started by touching her ass gently. He ran his fingers over her smooth skin. He cupped the curves of her bottom with his hand. His hand squeezed a little and he felt her ass clench in response.
His heart pounded so hard he could hear it. It was a mighty drum calling him to action. It was a rhythm that begged for an answer.
The first spank was so light that only a trained concubine like Mei Rou could even feel it. She groaned in pleasure. The light taps peppered her bottom, striking her like gentle raindrops on her perfect skin.
Michael increased the force. Using both hands, he smacked her bottom like a drum. He didn't think, he just let his hands do what they pleased. Sometimes only the tip of his fingers struck her bottom while other times he hit her ass with the full length of his hand. In minutes her entire ass was turning red.
"Oh thank you," Mei Rou moaned and Michael smiled. He hadn't even started.
The spanking went faster. Michael didn't allow himself to think as his hands went faster and faster. He smacked her ass in time with the rapid beating of his heart. He delivered painful blows to her round bottom that made him wince. He struck so fast that if it wasn't for the constant roar of skin hitting skin, he wouldn't be sure his hands had touched her.
Michael spanked and spanked and spanked. The sounds of her ass being struck joined in chorus with his the pumping of his heart. The sounds of Mei Rou's moans accompanied the beats like a melody. The whistling of the air as he swung his hands joined in harmony. He began to chant his praise for Mei Rou's bottom, giving lyrics to the music they made together.
After a time, the spanking stopped. He slowed down to the gentle patter that he started with. With one final touch of his finger on her tender ass, he ended the song with Mei Rou's shuddering gasp.
He stepped back and she collapsed on the bed. Mei Rou rolled over and screamed as her spanked ass touched the silk sheets of the bed. She opened her legs and held her ankles.
"Master, fuck me," she said.
He did. When he slid into her, he felt something strange in his chest. It wasn't till he started to thrust that he knew what that feeling was. The missing piece of his heart was no longer missing.
He sat there along with ten other Chinese men who happened to share his same birthday. Lo had gone inside some grand hall to discuss his merits with the other monks. From what Lo said, the monks were debating whether or not to even test Michael because he was born in America. From what Michael understood, reincarnation was old fashioned when it come to traveling.
Michael had tried to engage the other candidates in conversation but none of them spoke English. That didn't stop the others from talking to each other. Michael closed his eyes and let their incomprehensible speech lull him into a trance.
It was quite peaceful actually. The chatter had it's own rhythm and Michael began to imagine a form of spanking that would be based on speech patterns. He had thoughts like these all the time but for once, he suppressed his sense of shame long enough to explore the idea in his mind.
The chatter stopped. Curious, Michael opened his eyes to see why they had stopped. Standing before him was the most beautiful he had ever seen. She was older than him, at least forty years old but in her eyes he saw something he had never seen before. It was understanding.
"You," the beautiful woman said in terrible English but with a wonderful voice. "Come with me."
"Um, sorry," Michael said. "I am supposed to wait here for the monks."
The woman smirked. "And do you always do what old men tell you to do?"
Michael thought of his father whom he always seemed to infuriate. "No," Michael said. He stood up and followed her.
When the beautiful woman turned around, Michael looked down at her bottom. Although she was heavily wrapped in robes, Michael could see the shape of her ass underneath. It was the most beautiful ass outline he had ever seen. A tear came to his eye.
They walked down halls and through doors.
"What is your name?" Michael asked.
"Mei Rou" she said.
She led him into a bedroom.
"Umm, my name is Michael," he said.
"I know your true name," she said. "You were thinking about spanking. I saw the look on your face. My beloved had the same look many many times."
"Who was your beloved?" Michael asked. He found a strange sense of anger within him towards this asshole that Mei called beloved.
Mei Rou smiled. "He was you, in another life."
She unfastened the belt to her robe. It fell around her ankles. She was nude underneath her robe. Mei Rou turned her back to him and showed Michael her ass. It was just as beautiful as he had imagined.
"I have to tell you," he said. "They don't know if I am really the Master. They still haven't decided."
Mei Rou shook her head and moved to the bed. She bent over in a graceful motion like a Queen. Her ass was higher than her head. She looked over her shoulder towards him and smiled.
"And how will they know?" she asked. "Tests? I was the favorite concubine of the Master. When he died, I served Shi Da. He was a good man, but no Master. I am the only test you need."
Michael swallowed hard. Desire was filling his mind but what made him hesitate was just how beautiful Mei Rou's ass was. He was afraid. He wanted to be the Master of Spanking just to be worthy of spanking that ass.
"Strike me," Mei Rou said. "I have waited twenty-five years to feel the hand of the Master again. Spank me, your most faithful lover."
Michael closed his eyes. He let go of his fear. When he opened his eyes again, the sight of the most perfect ass in the world greeted him.
He started by touching her ass gently. He ran his fingers over her smooth skin. He cupped the curves of her bottom with his hand. His hand squeezed a little and he felt her ass clench in response.
His heart pounded so hard he could hear it. It was a mighty drum calling him to action. It was a rhythm that begged for an answer.
The first spank was so light that only a trained concubine like Mei Rou could even feel it. She groaned in pleasure. The light taps peppered her bottom, striking her like gentle raindrops on her perfect skin.
Michael increased the force. Using both hands, he smacked her bottom like a drum. He didn't think, he just let his hands do what they pleased. Sometimes only the tip of his fingers struck her bottom while other times he hit her ass with the full length of his hand. In minutes her entire ass was turning red.
"Oh thank you," Mei Rou moaned and Michael smiled. He hadn't even started.
The spanking went faster. Michael didn't allow himself to think as his hands went faster and faster. He smacked her ass in time with the rapid beating of his heart. He delivered painful blows to her round bottom that made him wince. He struck so fast that if it wasn't for the constant roar of skin hitting skin, he wouldn't be sure his hands had touched her.
Michael spanked and spanked and spanked. The sounds of her ass being struck joined in chorus with his the pumping of his heart. The sounds of Mei Rou's moans accompanied the beats like a melody. The whistling of the air as he swung his hands joined in harmony. He began to chant his praise for Mei Rou's bottom, giving lyrics to the music they made together.
After a time, the spanking stopped. He slowed down to the gentle patter that he started with. With one final touch of his finger on her tender ass, he ended the song with Mei Rou's shuddering gasp.
He stepped back and she collapsed on the bed. Mei Rou rolled over and screamed as her spanked ass touched the silk sheets of the bed. She opened her legs and held her ankles.
"Master, fuck me," she said.
He did. When he slid into her, he felt something strange in his chest. It wasn't till he started to thrust that he knew what that feeling was. The missing piece of his heart was no longer missing.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Fiction: Master of Spanking Part Four
China was a lot rockier than Michael expected.
Not that Micheal had seen much of China. Lo had some sort of pull with the government that allowed Michael to not even go through customs. They had jumped off their international plane and right into a small chartered plane. The only thing that made that tight cramped space bearable was that the Eight Sisters were crammed in the plane with him. Their soft flesh pressed constantly against him and their eyes were filled with worship. Michael could get used to that.
Once they touched ground again, Lo instructed the sisters to take Micheal's luggage to the monastery. Lo had asked Michael to come with him down a long rocky path.
"You said the monastery was filled with wealth and luxury, right?" Michael asked.
"Oh yes," Lo said. "The Master of Spanking never wants for anything except for new asses to spank. And even then, there is never a shortage of women who desire his hard hand."
"Well, why aren't we going there?" Michael said.
"Because I have not been entirely honest with you as to why we need you here," Lo said.
"I knew it," Michael said. "I knew it was too good to be true. I mean, a paradise for a reincarnated guy who loves to spank people? That's just silly."
Lo sighed and kept walking. "The monastery is a paradise, but I have yet to tell you the story of why the Master of Spanking has such wonderful wealth."
"Long ago," Lo began, "the Great Dragon plagued the land."
"A dragon?" Michael said. "For real? Big, scaly and breathes fire?"
Lo shook his head. "No, Western dragons are vulgar and crude. Chinese dragons are magnificent terrible forces of nature. You can not describe them, for they just are. Now let an old man tell you a story on a hot day."
"The Great Dragon terrorized China. It destroyed dreams, it crushed hope and it devoured the will of the people. Of course, the great heroes tried to stop the dragon.
The Master of Farming took his mighty hoe and tried to cultivate the Great Dragon. His hoe was broken and his skull was shitted out into the land.
The Master of Swords took his greatest sword and tried to stab the Great Dragon. His sword was broken and his skull was shitted onto the land.
The Master of Poetry took his greatest pen and tried to soothe the Great Dragon. His pen was broken-"
"And his skull was shitted onto the land," Michael finished. "I get the point."
"Well, there were a lot of Masters back then," Lo admitted, "so maybe it's best we move on. Sixty-six Masters died until the Master of Spanking was left. He took not a paddle but only his bare hands. He walked into the Great Dragon's cave and then he emerged. The Great Dragon was defeated."
"Wait a minute," Michael said. "He won? How did he do it? And what is that awful smell?"
Lo ignored the last question and kept walking. "No one knows what the Master of Spanking did. He told no one but it was clear the Great Dragon preyed on the people no more. The locals showered great wealth upon him, until one day, fifty years later, the people could feel the ground tremble around the Great Dragon's cave."
"Oh, the dragon was still alive?" Michael said.
"Yes," Lo said. "And the Master went back in, and came back out. He said that it would be another fifty years before the Great Dragon would trouble the land again. He never told anyone what he did, but when he passed away, he was reborn, and he battled the Great Dragon once more. On and on this has continued, until this very day."
"That smell is getting unbearable," Michael said. "Is that normal around here?"
"Four months ago, Shi Da, the latest Master of Spanking, went into the cave of the Great Dragon. He went in four months early, for the Master of Spanking always felt it was best to do these things ahead of the appointed time."
"Wait, there's already a Master?" Michael said.
Lo shook his head. He stopped walking and pointed at what looked like a boulder to Michael. The wind shifted and Michael realized it was really a giant ball of shit.
"What the fuck is that?" Michael said.
"That fell from the sky," Lo said. "And in it, we found Shi Da's skull. That was when we knew that he was not the real Master of Spanking."
"Shit," Michael said.
"Yes, and now we need the real Master of Spanking. All around the world, those who survived our tests will meet and one of them will prove to be the Master of Spanking. The one true Master will walk into the cave and do whatever it is that the Master of Spanking does to the Great Dragon. And the Master will enjoy a lifetime of Spanking here at the monastery."
"Shit," Michael repeated. He was trying to guess the size of the dragon that could shit that big of a mess.
What Michael and Lo could not know was that it would not be the wise monks who choose the Master this time.
Not that Micheal had seen much of China. Lo had some sort of pull with the government that allowed Michael to not even go through customs. They had jumped off their international plane and right into a small chartered plane. The only thing that made that tight cramped space bearable was that the Eight Sisters were crammed in the plane with him. Their soft flesh pressed constantly against him and their eyes were filled with worship. Michael could get used to that.
Once they touched ground again, Lo instructed the sisters to take Micheal's luggage to the monastery. Lo had asked Michael to come with him down a long rocky path.
"You said the monastery was filled with wealth and luxury, right?" Michael asked.
"Oh yes," Lo said. "The Master of Spanking never wants for anything except for new asses to spank. And even then, there is never a shortage of women who desire his hard hand."
"Well, why aren't we going there?" Michael said.
"Because I have not been entirely honest with you as to why we need you here," Lo said.
"I knew it," Michael said. "I knew it was too good to be true. I mean, a paradise for a reincarnated guy who loves to spank people? That's just silly."
Lo sighed and kept walking. "The monastery is a paradise, but I have yet to tell you the story of why the Master of Spanking has such wonderful wealth."
"Long ago," Lo began, "the Great Dragon plagued the land."
"A dragon?" Michael said. "For real? Big, scaly and breathes fire?"
Lo shook his head. "No, Western dragons are vulgar and crude. Chinese dragons are magnificent terrible forces of nature. You can not describe them, for they just are. Now let an old man tell you a story on a hot day."
"The Great Dragon terrorized China. It destroyed dreams, it crushed hope and it devoured the will of the people. Of course, the great heroes tried to stop the dragon.
The Master of Farming took his mighty hoe and tried to cultivate the Great Dragon. His hoe was broken and his skull was shitted out into the land.
The Master of Swords took his greatest sword and tried to stab the Great Dragon. His sword was broken and his skull was shitted onto the land.
The Master of Poetry took his greatest pen and tried to soothe the Great Dragon. His pen was broken-"
"And his skull was shitted onto the land," Michael finished. "I get the point."
"Well, there were a lot of Masters back then," Lo admitted, "so maybe it's best we move on. Sixty-six Masters died until the Master of Spanking was left. He took not a paddle but only his bare hands. He walked into the Great Dragon's cave and then he emerged. The Great Dragon was defeated."
"Wait a minute," Michael said. "He won? How did he do it? And what is that awful smell?"
Lo ignored the last question and kept walking. "No one knows what the Master of Spanking did. He told no one but it was clear the Great Dragon preyed on the people no more. The locals showered great wealth upon him, until one day, fifty years later, the people could feel the ground tremble around the Great Dragon's cave."
"Oh, the dragon was still alive?" Michael said.
"Yes," Lo said. "And the Master went back in, and came back out. He said that it would be another fifty years before the Great Dragon would trouble the land again. He never told anyone what he did, but when he passed away, he was reborn, and he battled the Great Dragon once more. On and on this has continued, until this very day."
"That smell is getting unbearable," Michael said. "Is that normal around here?"
"Four months ago, Shi Da, the latest Master of Spanking, went into the cave of the Great Dragon. He went in four months early, for the Master of Spanking always felt it was best to do these things ahead of the appointed time."
"Wait, there's already a Master?" Michael said.
Lo shook his head. He stopped walking and pointed at what looked like a boulder to Michael. The wind shifted and Michael realized it was really a giant ball of shit.
"What the fuck is that?" Michael said.
"That fell from the sky," Lo said. "And in it, we found Shi Da's skull. That was when we knew that he was not the real Master of Spanking."
"Shit," Michael said.
"Yes, and now we need the real Master of Spanking. All around the world, those who survived our tests will meet and one of them will prove to be the Master of Spanking. The one true Master will walk into the cave and do whatever it is that the Master of Spanking does to the Great Dragon. And the Master will enjoy a lifetime of Spanking here at the monastery."
"Shit," Michael repeated. He was trying to guess the size of the dragon that could shit that big of a mess.
What Michael and Lo could not know was that it would not be the wise monks who choose the Master this time.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Fiction: Master of Spanking Part Three
This was the craziest delivery ever.
"Michael Yan, please come inside," the bald Chinese man had told him. "Put the food down on the table."
The fact that the guy knew his name was weird, but the fact that the dining room table was covered in leather and wooden paddles was just plain freaky.
"Hell no," Michael said. "We just deliver food man, we're not an escort service."
The bald man smirked. "Put the food down, Michael Yan. Whether you want to pick up a paddle is up to you."
Michael set the order of fried rice with complimentary egg rolls down on the table. He had never seen this many paddles in person before. Oh, he had read about them online or seen them in porn movies, but never had he been this close to them. His hands itched. It took all of his willpower not to pick one up.
"You may call me Lo," the Bald Man said. "I have spent the last four months searching for people like you, Michael. Excuse me, where are my manners? I need to introduce you to the Eight Sisters."
Lo clapped his hands. A door opened from the kitchen and eight beautiful Chinese women walked out. The first thing Michael noticed was that all of the women were nude from the waist down. They wore modest shirts and nothing else. Their smooth pussies flashed him but what made him swallow was the thought of the bare asses that were just out of his sight.
It took him a minute to realize they were also wielding long knives in each hand.were holding long knives.
"Uh, they are all sisters?," Michael said.
"Correct," Lo said. "They were trained to protect the Master's Concubines in addition to being excellent concubines themselves. Each one is a mistress of weaponry, capable of killing twenty times their own number."
"Michael Yan," Lo continued. "You were born on Oct 15th, 1983, during the 18th hour. Is this not true?"
"What?" Michael said. He was mesmerized by the beautiful women. One of the girls winked at him. "Yeah, the day's right. I'm not sure about the hour. Is this some sort of astrology thing?"
"In one minute," Lo explained, "these highly trained concubines will attack you and try to kill you. However, if you smack their bottom, they will drop their knives and fall to their knees. That is the only hope you have of stopping them before they extinguish the light of your life."
Michael shook his head. "I'm sorry, did you say these chicks are going to kill me?" He noticed that the girl who winked at him was now blowing him a kiss.
"I am sorry," Lo said. "I would rather use more peaceful tests but the world is depending on us finding the Reborn Master of Spanking as soon as possible. Rest assure that if you are not the Master, your death will be swift and with little to some pain. I personally will pray for your soul's rebirth."
The eight sisters approached. The dining room was extremely small with no room to defend himself. Without thinking, Micheal's hand shot down and picked up a long wooden paddle.
"This is insane!" Michael yelled.
A knife darted towards him. Michael blocked the knife with the paddle while his other hand darted like a snake towards the woman's face. He slapped her across the face and when she spun from the force of the blow, his other hand reacted. The paddle slashed down and spanked the woman perfectly across both her buttocks.
Her eyes grew wide and then a smile lit her face. Her knees hit the floor a split second after the knives did. She placed her head on the ground before him, lifting her ass in submission.
"What? How did I-?" Michael tried to say but the other seven women lunged at him.
One knife cut his arm. Another slashed his shirt open. A third knife cut him on the cheek. All around him was flashing steel and the screams of deadly women. The cuts hurt and the sight of his own blood was unreal. It was like a nightmare, overwhelming and terrifying. Michael knew he was about to die.
Lucky for Michael, his soul knew better. When the terror shut down Micheal's thinking mind, his soul took command of his body.
Michael grabbed another paddle. Using his left paddle, he blocked the sharp knives. With the right paddle, he feinted and weaved. Wooden paddles blocked metal weapons with speed and precision. He stood his ground and his paddles formed a perfect whirlwind shield.
Michael felt the fear slip away. He didn't understand how, but the less he thought about it, the better his arms defended himself. The beautiful women tried and tried but they could not hurt him.
He felt something else replace the fear. All these bare asses were in front of him and here he was with two paddles. He wanted to satisfy that craving that lurked within him. Considering that these girls were trying to kill him, it didn't seem so bad to spank them.
WHAP! His arm snaked around and hit an ass from behind.
WHAP! He tripped a woman and then spanked her ass while she fell.
WHAP-WHAP! He struck two asses at once with twin underhand swings.
WHAP! He threw his paddle at a wall and it bounced back and hit a woman's ass from behind.
He was surrounded by kneeling women. There was one sister left. It was the one who had winked at him. The one who had distracted and taunted him.The last woman looked at him and dropped her knives. She bowed deep, speaking in Chinese and Michael couldn't quite understand her. He thought he heard the word 'surrender.'
He didn't care. He grabbed her by the hair and bent her over the table. She squealed and even someone as inexperienced as Michael could tell it was a squeal of delight. She braced herself and lifted her ass towards him.
Michael spanked her bottom. He spanked her without anger or malice, but he spanked her with passion that comes from denying yourself for too long. His hand hit faster and faster, harder and harder on her petite ass.
He only stopped when he saw the tears running down her porcelain cheeks. He backed away, shocked at what he had done. Her ass was as red as cherries. He had been brutal and he had enjoyed every second of it. It was true, he was a pervert.
He almost dropped the paddles but they stayed in his hands. They belonged there.
Michael turned to Lo who was on his knees. The bald man was crying too.
"Thank the Heavens! We have finally found the Master of Spanking!"
Michael turned to the woman he had spanked. He was going to apologize but before he could, she was on the ground kissing his feet.
"Thank you, thank you," she chanted over and over again.
The other sisters crawled towards him. "Me, next!" they all cried.
Michael realized the only person who thought he was a pervert was himself. The next thing he realized was that he was surrounded by women begging to be spanked. This was the happiest moment of his life.
He had no idea that this might be his last week on earth.
"Michael Yan, please come inside," the bald Chinese man had told him. "Put the food down on the table."
The fact that the guy knew his name was weird, but the fact that the dining room table was covered in leather and wooden paddles was just plain freaky.
"Hell no," Michael said. "We just deliver food man, we're not an escort service."
The bald man smirked. "Put the food down, Michael Yan. Whether you want to pick up a paddle is up to you."
Michael set the order of fried rice with complimentary egg rolls down on the table. He had never seen this many paddles in person before. Oh, he had read about them online or seen them in porn movies, but never had he been this close to them. His hands itched. It took all of his willpower not to pick one up.
"You may call me Lo," the Bald Man said. "I have spent the last four months searching for people like you, Michael. Excuse me, where are my manners? I need to introduce you to the Eight Sisters."
Lo clapped his hands. A door opened from the kitchen and eight beautiful Chinese women walked out. The first thing Michael noticed was that all of the women were nude from the waist down. They wore modest shirts and nothing else. Their smooth pussies flashed him but what made him swallow was the thought of the bare asses that were just out of his sight.
It took him a minute to realize they were also wielding long knives in each hand.were holding long knives.
"Uh, they are all sisters?," Michael said.
"Correct," Lo said. "They were trained to protect the Master's Concubines in addition to being excellent concubines themselves. Each one is a mistress of weaponry, capable of killing twenty times their own number."
"Michael Yan," Lo continued. "You were born on Oct 15th, 1983, during the 18th hour. Is this not true?"
"What?" Michael said. He was mesmerized by the beautiful women. One of the girls winked at him. "Yeah, the day's right. I'm not sure about the hour. Is this some sort of astrology thing?"
"In one minute," Lo explained, "these highly trained concubines will attack you and try to kill you. However, if you smack their bottom, they will drop their knives and fall to their knees. That is the only hope you have of stopping them before they extinguish the light of your life."
Michael shook his head. "I'm sorry, did you say these chicks are going to kill me?" He noticed that the girl who winked at him was now blowing him a kiss.
"I am sorry," Lo said. "I would rather use more peaceful tests but the world is depending on us finding the Reborn Master of Spanking as soon as possible. Rest assure that if you are not the Master, your death will be swift and with little to some pain. I personally will pray for your soul's rebirth."
The eight sisters approached. The dining room was extremely small with no room to defend himself. Without thinking, Micheal's hand shot down and picked up a long wooden paddle.
"This is insane!" Michael yelled.
A knife darted towards him. Michael blocked the knife with the paddle while his other hand darted like a snake towards the woman's face. He slapped her across the face and when she spun from the force of the blow, his other hand reacted. The paddle slashed down and spanked the woman perfectly across both her buttocks.
Her eyes grew wide and then a smile lit her face. Her knees hit the floor a split second after the knives did. She placed her head on the ground before him, lifting her ass in submission.
"What? How did I-?" Michael tried to say but the other seven women lunged at him.
One knife cut his arm. Another slashed his shirt open. A third knife cut him on the cheek. All around him was flashing steel and the screams of deadly women. The cuts hurt and the sight of his own blood was unreal. It was like a nightmare, overwhelming and terrifying. Michael knew he was about to die.
Lucky for Michael, his soul knew better. When the terror shut down Micheal's thinking mind, his soul took command of his body.
Michael grabbed another paddle. Using his left paddle, he blocked the sharp knives. With the right paddle, he feinted and weaved. Wooden paddles blocked metal weapons with speed and precision. He stood his ground and his paddles formed a perfect whirlwind shield.
Michael felt the fear slip away. He didn't understand how, but the less he thought about it, the better his arms defended himself. The beautiful women tried and tried but they could not hurt him.
He felt something else replace the fear. All these bare asses were in front of him and here he was with two paddles. He wanted to satisfy that craving that lurked within him. Considering that these girls were trying to kill him, it didn't seem so bad to spank them.
WHAP! His arm snaked around and hit an ass from behind.
WHAP! He tripped a woman and then spanked her ass while she fell.
WHAP-WHAP! He struck two asses at once with twin underhand swings.
WHAP! He threw his paddle at a wall and it bounced back and hit a woman's ass from behind.
He was surrounded by kneeling women. There was one sister left. It was the one who had winked at him. The one who had distracted and taunted him.The last woman looked at him and dropped her knives. She bowed deep, speaking in Chinese and Michael couldn't quite understand her. He thought he heard the word 'surrender.'
He didn't care. He grabbed her by the hair and bent her over the table. She squealed and even someone as inexperienced as Michael could tell it was a squeal of delight. She braced herself and lifted her ass towards him.
Michael spanked her bottom. He spanked her without anger or malice, but he spanked her with passion that comes from denying yourself for too long. His hand hit faster and faster, harder and harder on her petite ass.
He only stopped when he saw the tears running down her porcelain cheeks. He backed away, shocked at what he had done. Her ass was as red as cherries. He had been brutal and he had enjoyed every second of it. It was true, he was a pervert.
He almost dropped the paddles but they stayed in his hands. They belonged there.
Michael turned to Lo who was on his knees. The bald man was crying too.
"Thank the Heavens! We have finally found the Master of Spanking!"
Michael turned to the woman he had spanked. He was going to apologize but before he could, she was on the ground kissing his feet.
"Thank you, thank you," she chanted over and over again.
The other sisters crawled towards him. "Me, next!" they all cried.
Michael realized the only person who thought he was a pervert was himself. The next thing he realized was that he was surrounded by women begging to be spanked. This was the happiest moment of his life.
He had no idea that this might be his last week on earth.
Friday, October 03, 2008
Fiction: Master of Spanking Part Two
"You have a hole in your heart."
Micheal's Grandma always had a way with words. She said that to him last year when she came over to the States to visit. He didn't ask her to explain herself. He knew it was true. He was a twenty-five year old second generation Chinese-American in Atlanta, Georgia. It's bad enough being a minority in America, but Georgia? That just plain sucked. Still, it wasn't why Michael was depressed.
It wasn't because he lived with and worked for his parents. It wasn't because his job was delivering pseudo Chinese food to rednecks. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was failing college. All of those things were trivial.
Michael Yan was depressed because he was a pervert. All he ever wanted to do was spank asses. Round asses, flat asses, white asses, black asses, or Chinese asses it didn't matter. As long as they were girl asses, he wanted to spank them.
At the age of seven, Michael has his first erection in first grade. Susan Bradshaw had acted up in class and their teacher, Mrs. CampBell had bent Susan over and spanked her bottom. Poor Michael had felt his pants grow tight along with a sense of loss that he could never figure out. For some reason, he felt like it should have been him spanking Susan's ass.
When he was sixteen, he got to second base with his neighbor, Carrie Cho. Holy shit, she had giant breasts she inherited from her American mother but Michael could care less. He sucked on her nipples because it was the only time she didn't mind him grabbing her ass.
Michael was foolish enough to strike her bottom. He meant to do a gentle tap but instead some strange force seized his hand and he smacked the bejesus out of Carrie's bottom. She screamed.
He apologized as much as he could but Carrie was furious. When she slapped him across the face, Michael couldn't help notice how poorly the slap was done. Her wrists were limp and her arm was crooked.
She broke up with him, the first in a long line of girlfriends who were disappointed in him. Michael loved women but he loved spanking them even more. Some girls were happy to be spanked a little for foreplay, but to Michael it was the only play. Groping, blowjobs and even penetration was just teasing. Spanking is what Michael craved.
The feel of a hot ass.
The sound of hand meeting bottom.
The sight of an ass clenching right before the strike.
Atlanta had a kinky scene but Michael couldn't even let himself think about it. What would his parents think of they knew he went to one of those clubs? For that matter, Michael couldn't imagine himself going to one of those places. He hoped that maybe if he ignored his special cravings, maybe they would just go away. He loves spanking but the feeling of being an outcast ruined the joy he could find.
Michael Yan had a hole in his heart. What he didn't know was that halfway across the planet, the missing piece of his heart was in the shape of a beautiful concubine's ass.
Micheal's Grandma always had a way with words. She said that to him last year when she came over to the States to visit. He didn't ask her to explain herself. He knew it was true. He was a twenty-five year old second generation Chinese-American in Atlanta, Georgia. It's bad enough being a minority in America, but Georgia? That just plain sucked. Still, it wasn't why Michael was depressed.
It wasn't because he lived with and worked for his parents. It wasn't because his job was delivering pseudo Chinese food to rednecks. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was failing college. All of those things were trivial.
Michael Yan was depressed because he was a pervert. All he ever wanted to do was spank asses. Round asses, flat asses, white asses, black asses, or Chinese asses it didn't matter. As long as they were girl asses, he wanted to spank them.
At the age of seven, Michael has his first erection in first grade. Susan Bradshaw had acted up in class and their teacher, Mrs. CampBell had bent Susan over and spanked her bottom. Poor Michael had felt his pants grow tight along with a sense of loss that he could never figure out. For some reason, he felt like it should have been him spanking Susan's ass.
When he was sixteen, he got to second base with his neighbor, Carrie Cho. Holy shit, she had giant breasts she inherited from her American mother but Michael could care less. He sucked on her nipples because it was the only time she didn't mind him grabbing her ass.
Michael was foolish enough to strike her bottom. He meant to do a gentle tap but instead some strange force seized his hand and he smacked the bejesus out of Carrie's bottom. She screamed.
He apologized as much as he could but Carrie was furious. When she slapped him across the face, Michael couldn't help notice how poorly the slap was done. Her wrists were limp and her arm was crooked.
She broke up with him, the first in a long line of girlfriends who were disappointed in him. Michael loved women but he loved spanking them even more. Some girls were happy to be spanked a little for foreplay, but to Michael it was the only play. Groping, blowjobs and even penetration was just teasing. Spanking is what Michael craved.
The feel of a hot ass.
The sound of hand meeting bottom.
The sight of an ass clenching right before the strike.
Atlanta had a kinky scene but Michael couldn't even let himself think about it. What would his parents think of they knew he went to one of those clubs? For that matter, Michael couldn't imagine himself going to one of those places. He hoped that maybe if he ignored his special cravings, maybe they would just go away. He loves spanking but the feeling of being an outcast ruined the joy he could find.
Michael Yan had a hole in his heart. What he didn't know was that halfway across the planet, the missing piece of his heart was in the shape of a beautiful concubine's ass.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Commission: Laura by Daggerpoint
Daggerpoint was having a sale on quick sketches and I decided to grab one for Laura from Volleyball Mad-ness. I really liked how he conveyed action in this picture. It's pretty much exactly how I imagined it.
I've had this image for over a month but I haven't posted it because I know in fiction, what people imagine a character looking like is superior to any one artist's interpretation. Hell, I wrote the character and I always imagine Laura's hair being shoulder length even though I always describe her hair as short and athletic. Now that the story is over, I feel free to share.
I am so happy with this picture that I am tempted to get more art commissioned for my stories. Deviant Art has a lot of great artists who work in many different price ranges. This image was 10 dollars and I would have gladly paid more. I think for blogs that lean more towards fiction, using a drawn image has a better impact than a photograph lifted off a porn site. For one thing, when you commission art, you can get exactly what you want in pose and body type. For me, commissioning art is another creative outlet.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Fiction: The Master of Spanking
Wu Han, Master of Spanking, passed away one night after spanking his Sixty-six concubines. An autopsy revealed that he suffered a fatal heart attack while spanking his fifty-third concubine but Wei Hao kept spanking. Only when he had finished spanking his favorite concubine, the delicate Mei Rou, did he allow his body to die. Such is the willpower of the Master of Spanking.
The hour of his death was marked in the great scrolls and the monks went out into the world to search for his rebirth. For the Master of Spanking so loved the asses of the world that he choose not to go to Nirvana, but to stay here on the mortal plane where the bottoms are warm and soft.
Villages were searched. Great cities were examined. Astrologists were consulted. Finally, six months after the death of the Wei Hao, the monks heard of a baby who laughed when he was spanked. The villagers said the baby laughed in a mocking tone as if utterly unimpressed with the punishment he was given. The baby's name was Shi Da.
The monks traveled to the small village and tested the baby. First, they laid out sixty six paddles that belonged to the Master. Shi Da with bright eyes crawled to a worn purple paddle with an ivory grip. The monks smiled for this was the Master's favorite paddle.
Next, the monks placed the baby on a spanking bench with uneven legs. The baby wobbled for a moment on the narrow beam but he kept his balance. Back and forth the baby crawled and never did he fall off. The monks were pleased.
Finally, the Master's sixty-six concubines were brought to the village. They kneeled on the ground and placed their heads on the ground. They lifted their bare asses towards the baby. Shi Da was let go and he crawled around, giggling. When he reached the supple ass of Mei Rou, did he stop. The baby stood on it's two shaking legs and slapped Mei Rou's ass. One, two three time with his tiny hands.
The monks rejoiced. They gave the parents a wagon full of gold and took the baby back to their monastery. There they trained him in the Hundred Palm Slap, the Seven Cryptic Canes and the Eighty-Two ways to compliment an ass. Shi Da was taught all of the mysteries of the art of spanking and as well as the terrible secret reason the art was so important to the safety of the world.
It would be twenty-five years before the monks realized they had the wrong baby.
To be continued,
The hour of his death was marked in the great scrolls and the monks went out into the world to search for his rebirth. For the Master of Spanking so loved the asses of the world that he choose not to go to Nirvana, but to stay here on the mortal plane where the bottoms are warm and soft.
Villages were searched. Great cities were examined. Astrologists were consulted. Finally, six months after the death of the Wei Hao, the monks heard of a baby who laughed when he was spanked. The villagers said the baby laughed in a mocking tone as if utterly unimpressed with the punishment he was given. The baby's name was Shi Da.
The monks traveled to the small village and tested the baby. First, they laid out sixty six paddles that belonged to the Master. Shi Da with bright eyes crawled to a worn purple paddle with an ivory grip. The monks smiled for this was the Master's favorite paddle.
Next, the monks placed the baby on a spanking bench with uneven legs. The baby wobbled for a moment on the narrow beam but he kept his balance. Back and forth the baby crawled and never did he fall off. The monks were pleased.
Finally, the Master's sixty-six concubines were brought to the village. They kneeled on the ground and placed their heads on the ground. They lifted their bare asses towards the baby. Shi Da was let go and he crawled around, giggling. When he reached the supple ass of Mei Rou, did he stop. The baby stood on it's two shaking legs and slapped Mei Rou's ass. One, two three time with his tiny hands.
The monks rejoiced. They gave the parents a wagon full of gold and took the baby back to their monastery. There they trained him in the Hundred Palm Slap, the Seven Cryptic Canes and the Eighty-Two ways to compliment an ass. Shi Da was taught all of the mysteries of the art of spanking and as well as the terrible secret reason the art was so important to the safety of the world.
It would be twenty-five years before the monks realized they had the wrong baby.
To be continued,
Monday, September 29, 2008
On Friday, Shon Created the Pook
Pictured to the left is a Pook. I created the race on Spore, sheperding them from when they were single cell organisms to the space faring race that they are today. In case you are wondering, he's wearing a top hat with an antenna because if there is one thing the Pooks love, is music.
Spore gives you an amazing amount of control for your creativity. I designed the creature, his architecture, several vehicles and their overall philosophy. It can be a little overwhelming. It is one thing to decide your creature has a trunk for a mouth because it gives it the best singing voice, it is another to try to figure out what their idea of a City Hall would look like.
The best part is that when you play Spore, it uploads your creations to the central database, and then pulls from that database to populate your world and cosmos. Every creature you run into is from someone else's game. You don't play with anyone else, you just play with the toys they made.
What I find most interesting is what the game teaches about myself. Early on in the Just-Walked-Onto-Land phase, my Pook befriended this adorable little caterpillar creature. I also befriended this vicious looking four armed lizard. We were running around like some sort of twisted Amazing Journey when I noticed this pack of creatures had killed my caterpillar buddy. I had two options: I could try to befriend them, or I could go hostile and my lizard buddy would have slaughtered them and ended their evolutionary journey. I was angry, but here at the Dawn of Time, I felt like the decision I made would set the tone for my entire species. I tried to befriend them and one of them joined my pack.
I know it's just a game, but I find myself increasingly avoiding the use of violence. In a game that uses other people's creations, I find it very hard to destroy something someone else made.
Right now I am Intergalactic Diplomat, befriending races across the universe and learning their songs. Who knew I was a space hippie?
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Fiction: Volleyball Island Madd-ness Finale
Laura woke up. She felt refreshed and truly rested for the first time in months. She smiled and enjoyed the feeling. This is how a summer vacation should feel.
She very carefully removed herself from the bed. She took Lewis’s hand off her breast and carefully climbed over Victoria’s stretched out leg. Once Laura was gone, the two sleeping lovers filled the gap and curled against one another.
Laura was tempted to rejoin them. After their amazing win yesterday, they had come back to the suite and fucked for hours. The thrill of being multi millionaires and the thrill of winning a tournament against the best in the world couldn’t compare to the joy of fucking a great guy with your partner. Okay, maybe it could but last night was pretty damn hot.
There was one thing bothering Laura though. She liked to meet challenges head on. She never shied away from a spike or a block. She came here to play and she came here to grab some fun wherever she could. Laura hadn’t backed down yet, but there was one challenge out there on the island. She had been waiting for it but if she had to go seek it out, she was fine with that too.
She was going to meet Dr. Von Madd.
To read more, click Whole Post
She put on a bright red bikini because it was the one that made her tits look the biggest. Her short black hair was a mess but that was alright. She swigged some mouthwash and then left the suite.
Laura decided to start with the elevator. She stepped inside and picked the highest floor listed. Her heart pounded. Laura was a millionaire many times over but here she was, scared like she was going on her first date.
The elevator opened to a hallway with a single door at the end. She was tempted to go back to her suite. What if she made of a fool of herself? Maybe he would think she was stupid and boring. If he hadn’t tried to reach her by now, doesn’t that mean he doesn’t really care to meet her?
Laura stepped out of the elevator. She went down the hallway and to the door. She knocked on the door, politely but firmly. Fuck what the doctor wanted, Laura had her own wishes.
Dr. Otto Von Madd opened the door. It was early morning but he seemed to be wide awake. He was wearing the white lab coat she always saw him in, as well as those purple goggles. He was pretty identical to his hologram.
“Laura Marie, please come inside,” he said. “I was expecting you this morning.”
“Oh?” she said. “Predicted it on your spreadsheets and computers?” Laura winced as soon as she said that. She was hoping to come across as cool and flirty, not snotty and condescending.
“Not this time,” Dr. Von Madd said. He offered her a spot on the couch while he sat at the end. “When I am on vacation, I try to relax and use only estimations formed without the help of behavior forecast software. It is more fun that way.”
“And what does your estimations say about me?” Laura asked. She scooted herself closer to Otto.
“I haven’t analyzed the data we gathered from your challenges,” Otto said, “but my estimations are that you are a thrill seeking woman who likes to explore new avenues of adventure. Coming to the island was an adventure, as well as winning, but now you are curious as to how far you can get with me.”
Laura smiled and placed a hand on his knee. “Doctor, I think you are trying to come across as much cooler than you are.”
Otto’s face portrayed little reaction while his goggles continued to hide his eyes. “Oh? In what way?”
Laura reached for one of the buttons on his lab coat. She casually undid the button. She moved to the next button and kept talking.
“I figured it all out,” she said. “You were the hologram for every challenge. That wasn’t some computer program. That was your way of playing with me, seeing how far I would go and maybe just fucking around with me. I bet you were the one firing the water balloon cannon. I bet you were the one controlling the spanking machine. I think it’s been your voice talking to me and demanding more from me. That is what I think.”
She had his lab coat unbuttoned. Her hand moved down to his pants. Her fingers toyed with the zipper, dancing along the growing bulge as if they were uncertain.
“Wouldn’t that be creepy?” Otto asked. “If what you say is true, that would be like I was stalking you.”
The fingers stopped at the top of the zipper.
“It might be,” Laura said. “But I thought about it in the elevator. I was intimidated by you, being all brilliant, and rich and a genius. Then I thought about me, being all sporty, brash and not having a degree in anything. I had a feeling you might be just as intimidated by me.”
Otto smiled. “That is not an unreasonable hypothesis.”
She unzipped his pants. He was wearing boxers and it was a simple matter to pull his erection from the loose material. His cock stood tall and felt hot in her hand. Laura squeezed him and she heard the tiniest of sighs from his lips.
“I have this theory,” Laura said. “I think you set up this whole tournament so that you could meet the right kind of girl. You wanted to meet someone with a killer body and who wasn’t afraid of all your weird sex toys. I think this was one big try out for you to nail some great ass.”
He laughed. His hand wrapped around her hand. He guided her slowly up, and then slowly down.
“Interesting theory,” Otto said. “But in all honesty, I really like volleyball. It’s a sport involving geometry, teamwork, beaches and swimsuits. I just had some extra ideas about how it could be improved.”
With her hand still around his cock, Otto leaned over to Laura’s ear. He bit her earlobe very gently until shivers went down her back.
“Finding you, Laura Marie, was just a really nice bonus.”
He stood up and kept her hand pinned to his cock. While she kept stroking, he took off his lab coat and stepped out of his pants. Laura looked up at him as he took off his shirt.
The goggles stayed on.
His hands reached for her hair and pulled her face to his cock. She took him between her lips, letting him fill her mouth. She felt his fingers embed themselves in her short black hair, massaging her scalp as she sucked hard on his cock. Her cheeks bulged as she tried to taste every inch of his cock.
Laura felt his hands tighten around her head and pin her in place. Otto pulled his cock nearly all the way out until Laura had to stick her tongue out to keep licking him. Then he would push his cock back into her lips, pushing deep until she could feel his balls pressing against her chin.
He pulled out and Laura moaned. Over and over, he slowly fucked her face and Laura was squirming in her wet bikini bottom. It was another challenge. Laura looked up at him as her tongue reached for his cock again. She tried to read his face but all she was those inscrutable purple goggles.
She took his thrusting back into her mouth as his approval.
After a deliciously long time of sucking, Laura felt her head released from those large hands. The hands reached down and ripped her bikini top off. Laura giggled as he grabbed her tits and pulled her to her feet. The pain was no worse than being hit with a volleyball and this was certainly far sexier.
When she was on her feet, he took her breast in hand and dipped his head down. She moaned as his tongue swirled around her nipple. His teeth bit down and Laura’s knees almost gave. He tapped a complicated rhythm on her nipple with his tongue and Laura could feel shivers rippling through her breasts, down her spine and straight into her sex. He kept biting and his tongue kept tapping until Laura’s hips were grinding against him.
Just as she thought she was about to climax, he released her breast. He smiled at her as he lifted the other breast and dipped down to suck the other nipple. She went to her tip toes, trying to force her nipple back into those teeth and tapping tongue.
The teeth clamped down and Laura cried out. His tongue this time did a different rhythm on her bitten nipple. The waves of pleasure were still the same, making Laura’s eyes roll back in her head and forcing her to wrap a leg around Otto to stay up right. She could feel the orgasm building but once again he broke away.
“Lay down on the couch,” Otto whispered. Laura had never met a man who was breathless from sucking tit before. She decided she liked it.
“It’s about time,” she said.
He pushed her down to the couch. Her legs opened for him and he ripped away her soaked bikini. Laura groaned he placed the tip of his cock against her and she screamed as he slid into her. He grabbed both of her ankles and spread her muscular legs apart. Laura looked up at him and pinched her nipples. She jiggled her breasts as if trying to signal him to come all the way into her.
Otto snapped his fingers. A tiny metal sphere flew into the room. It swooped down and squirted a generous amount of lubricant onto her pussy. Laura laughed as it flew away. That thing was damn handy.
Laura bit her lip as he fucked her. She let go of her breasts and grabbed the back of the couch. She loved the feeling of her ankles gripped in his iron hands. He pulled her legs apart like he wanted to admire every hard line of her thighs and calves. Laura felt like a beautiful work of athletic art. Otto was fucking her like he was going for the spike with every thrust.
She reached up and ran her fingers through his chest hair. “Get down here,” she said.
Otto let go of her ankles. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down to her. They shifted, working together to turn length ways on the couch. Laura noticed that the couch was just the perfect length to fuck on. His weight crushed her breasts while her thighs wrapped around him.
“Now we can fuck,” she said. Her ankles pushed him in. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. She bit down on his shoulder, transferring all of her desire into one scintillating bite. Her thighs clamped down on him, moving him back and forth as she set the pace.
Laura fucked him. Laura took his cock, his weight and his shoulder as she bit down. Laura took her prize. She took everything she had earned and she enjoyed every second of it. Her orgasm was coming and this time, she knew she was going to take it.
“You were right,” she gasped.
“About what?” Otto asked.
“The prize is awesome!” Laura screamed.
The end.
She very carefully removed herself from the bed. She took Lewis’s hand off her breast and carefully climbed over Victoria’s stretched out leg. Once Laura was gone, the two sleeping lovers filled the gap and curled against one another.
Laura was tempted to rejoin them. After their amazing win yesterday, they had come back to the suite and fucked for hours. The thrill of being multi millionaires and the thrill of winning a tournament against the best in the world couldn’t compare to the joy of fucking a great guy with your partner. Okay, maybe it could but last night was pretty damn hot.
There was one thing bothering Laura though. She liked to meet challenges head on. She never shied away from a spike or a block. She came here to play and she came here to grab some fun wherever she could. Laura hadn’t backed down yet, but there was one challenge out there on the island. She had been waiting for it but if she had to go seek it out, she was fine with that too.
She was going to meet Dr. Von Madd.
To read more, click Whole Post
She put on a bright red bikini because it was the one that made her tits look the biggest. Her short black hair was a mess but that was alright. She swigged some mouthwash and then left the suite.
Laura decided to start with the elevator. She stepped inside and picked the highest floor listed. Her heart pounded. Laura was a millionaire many times over but here she was, scared like she was going on her first date.
The elevator opened to a hallway with a single door at the end. She was tempted to go back to her suite. What if she made of a fool of herself? Maybe he would think she was stupid and boring. If he hadn’t tried to reach her by now, doesn’t that mean he doesn’t really care to meet her?
Laura stepped out of the elevator. She went down the hallway and to the door. She knocked on the door, politely but firmly. Fuck what the doctor wanted, Laura had her own wishes.
Dr. Otto Von Madd opened the door. It was early morning but he seemed to be wide awake. He was wearing the white lab coat she always saw him in, as well as those purple goggles. He was pretty identical to his hologram.
“Laura Marie, please come inside,” he said. “I was expecting you this morning.”
“Oh?” she said. “Predicted it on your spreadsheets and computers?” Laura winced as soon as she said that. She was hoping to come across as cool and flirty, not snotty and condescending.
“Not this time,” Dr. Von Madd said. He offered her a spot on the couch while he sat at the end. “When I am on vacation, I try to relax and use only estimations formed without the help of behavior forecast software. It is more fun that way.”
“And what does your estimations say about me?” Laura asked. She scooted herself closer to Otto.
“I haven’t analyzed the data we gathered from your challenges,” Otto said, “but my estimations are that you are a thrill seeking woman who likes to explore new avenues of adventure. Coming to the island was an adventure, as well as winning, but now you are curious as to how far you can get with me.”
Laura smiled and placed a hand on his knee. “Doctor, I think you are trying to come across as much cooler than you are.”
Otto’s face portrayed little reaction while his goggles continued to hide his eyes. “Oh? In what way?”
Laura reached for one of the buttons on his lab coat. She casually undid the button. She moved to the next button and kept talking.
“I figured it all out,” she said. “You were the hologram for every challenge. That wasn’t some computer program. That was your way of playing with me, seeing how far I would go and maybe just fucking around with me. I bet you were the one firing the water balloon cannon. I bet you were the one controlling the spanking machine. I think it’s been your voice talking to me and demanding more from me. That is what I think.”
She had his lab coat unbuttoned. Her hand moved down to his pants. Her fingers toyed with the zipper, dancing along the growing bulge as if they were uncertain.
“Wouldn’t that be creepy?” Otto asked. “If what you say is true, that would be like I was stalking you.”
The fingers stopped at the top of the zipper.
“It might be,” Laura said. “But I thought about it in the elevator. I was intimidated by you, being all brilliant, and rich and a genius. Then I thought about me, being all sporty, brash and not having a degree in anything. I had a feeling you might be just as intimidated by me.”
Otto smiled. “That is not an unreasonable hypothesis.”
She unzipped his pants. He was wearing boxers and it was a simple matter to pull his erection from the loose material. His cock stood tall and felt hot in her hand. Laura squeezed him and she heard the tiniest of sighs from his lips.
“I have this theory,” Laura said. “I think you set up this whole tournament so that you could meet the right kind of girl. You wanted to meet someone with a killer body and who wasn’t afraid of all your weird sex toys. I think this was one big try out for you to nail some great ass.”
He laughed. His hand wrapped around her hand. He guided her slowly up, and then slowly down.
“Interesting theory,” Otto said. “But in all honesty, I really like volleyball. It’s a sport involving geometry, teamwork, beaches and swimsuits. I just had some extra ideas about how it could be improved.”
With her hand still around his cock, Otto leaned over to Laura’s ear. He bit her earlobe very gently until shivers went down her back.
“Finding you, Laura Marie, was just a really nice bonus.”
He stood up and kept her hand pinned to his cock. While she kept stroking, he took off his lab coat and stepped out of his pants. Laura looked up at him as he took off his shirt.
The goggles stayed on.
His hands reached for her hair and pulled her face to his cock. She took him between her lips, letting him fill her mouth. She felt his fingers embed themselves in her short black hair, massaging her scalp as she sucked hard on his cock. Her cheeks bulged as she tried to taste every inch of his cock.
Laura felt his hands tighten around her head and pin her in place. Otto pulled his cock nearly all the way out until Laura had to stick her tongue out to keep licking him. Then he would push his cock back into her lips, pushing deep until she could feel his balls pressing against her chin.
He pulled out and Laura moaned. Over and over, he slowly fucked her face and Laura was squirming in her wet bikini bottom. It was another challenge. Laura looked up at him as her tongue reached for his cock again. She tried to read his face but all she was those inscrutable purple goggles.
She took his thrusting back into her mouth as his approval.
After a deliciously long time of sucking, Laura felt her head released from those large hands. The hands reached down and ripped her bikini top off. Laura giggled as he grabbed her tits and pulled her to her feet. The pain was no worse than being hit with a volleyball and this was certainly far sexier.
When she was on her feet, he took her breast in hand and dipped his head down. She moaned as his tongue swirled around her nipple. His teeth bit down and Laura’s knees almost gave. He tapped a complicated rhythm on her nipple with his tongue and Laura could feel shivers rippling through her breasts, down her spine and straight into her sex. He kept biting and his tongue kept tapping until Laura’s hips were grinding against him.
Just as she thought she was about to climax, he released her breast. He smiled at her as he lifted the other breast and dipped down to suck the other nipple. She went to her tip toes, trying to force her nipple back into those teeth and tapping tongue.
The teeth clamped down and Laura cried out. His tongue this time did a different rhythm on her bitten nipple. The waves of pleasure were still the same, making Laura’s eyes roll back in her head and forcing her to wrap a leg around Otto to stay up right. She could feel the orgasm building but once again he broke away.
“Lay down on the couch,” Otto whispered. Laura had never met a man who was breathless from sucking tit before. She decided she liked it.
“It’s about time,” she said.
He pushed her down to the couch. Her legs opened for him and he ripped away her soaked bikini. Laura groaned he placed the tip of his cock against her and she screamed as he slid into her. He grabbed both of her ankles and spread her muscular legs apart. Laura looked up at him and pinched her nipples. She jiggled her breasts as if trying to signal him to come all the way into her.
Otto snapped his fingers. A tiny metal sphere flew into the room. It swooped down and squirted a generous amount of lubricant onto her pussy. Laura laughed as it flew away. That thing was damn handy.
Laura bit her lip as he fucked her. She let go of her breasts and grabbed the back of the couch. She loved the feeling of her ankles gripped in his iron hands. He pulled her legs apart like he wanted to admire every hard line of her thighs and calves. Laura felt like a beautiful work of athletic art. Otto was fucking her like he was going for the spike with every thrust.
She reached up and ran her fingers through his chest hair. “Get down here,” she said.
Otto let go of her ankles. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down to her. They shifted, working together to turn length ways on the couch. Laura noticed that the couch was just the perfect length to fuck on. His weight crushed her breasts while her thighs wrapped around him.
“Now we can fuck,” she said. Her ankles pushed him in. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. She bit down on his shoulder, transferring all of her desire into one scintillating bite. Her thighs clamped down on him, moving him back and forth as she set the pace.
Laura fucked him. Laura took his cock, his weight and his shoulder as she bit down. Laura took her prize. She took everything she had earned and she enjoyed every second of it. Her orgasm was coming and this time, she knew she was going to take it.
“You were right,” she gasped.
“About what?” Otto asked.
“The prize is awesome!” Laura screamed.
The end.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Fiction: Volleyball Island Madd-ness Part Fifteen
They stepped onto the court together. The wind came off the water and brought them cool comfort from the hot sun. The crowd cheered as their names were announced and the girls waved to the crowd like they had already won. The sun hung low in the sky as if it too couldn’t wait for the match to begin.
Laura and Victoria felt fucking great. The afterglow of their threesome was lifting their spirits. Victoria could still taste Lewis’s seed from when she had sucked him down. Laura could still feel his mouth on her tits where Lewis had bitten her. The two women smiled at each other, knowing that they could handle fucking anything that was thrown at them today.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice boomed out. Dr. Otto Von Madd stood in front of his chair with a microphone. Bikini clad beauties continued to fan him with their palm fronds. “Give me your attention please.”
“This ball I hold here is the latest design of the Omnistimulus Orgasmic Oscillator, or as I like to call it, the O-Ball. The O-Ball constantly emits short range sonic vibrations that are undetectable to the human ear. These sound waves stimulate parts of the brain that manages the human libido. For those of us watching, this means we will be in perpetual states of semi arousal. For the players who will be touching the O-Ball and always within eight square meters, it will be the equivalent of trying to play while freebasing Viagra.”
Dr. Von Madd activated a button on his watch. Immediately Laura and Victoria felt a flush of dampness between their thighs. Victoria remembered every ridge on Lewis’s cock as her tongue went over it while Laura found herself remembering how damn good Lewis’s cock felt sliding up her pussy. Both girls groaned as they realized the o-Ball wasn’t even near them yet.
“Good luck to both teams,” Dr. Von Madd said. “Push your limits!”
To read more, click Whole Post
Laura watched him throw the ball to the other team. Jessica Nyler caught the ball and dropped to one knee. The tattooed brunette stood back up on shaky legs. Laura noticed how slowly Jessica walked to the serving position. That O-Ball was going to be a bitch. Already Laura was fighting the urge to reach down to her bikini bottom and maybe sneak in a few strokes.
Jessica served the ball and it was one shitty serve. The O-Ball barely got over the net and Laura was in the perfect position. As the O-Ball came to her though, the feelings of lust surged in Laura. She flashed back to her time in the Shower Challenge and how good that orgasm was. Her legs locked up and her eyes closed. She opened them up just in time to see the O-Ball coming for her face!
Laura hit the O-Ball into the air. She cried out as the O-Ball touched her skin and made her think about Lewis’s cock ramming her from behind. She just hoped Victoria didn’t bounce the O-Ball back to her.
Which is exactly what happened. Laura watched as Victoria froze and then bounce the O-Ball back into the air. She knew that her partner must have been griped with the same overwhelming memories of fucking. Laura felt bad for her partner but there was no time to think about that. They had to return the O-Ball to the other side of the net or else the New York bitches would score a point.
Laura tried to ignore her wet bikini bottom. She pushed past the mental images of getting fucked and tried to focus on the O-Ball. The athlete tried to ignore how hard her nipples were as she ran to the net. When she jumped in the air, the athlete tried not to think about how much she needed a thick cock inside her right now.
She spiked the O-Ball. Monica made a move towards the O-Ball but literally stumbled over her own shaky legs. The O-Ball bounced off the sand and Laura was happy to see it roll away from her. The further it rolled, the clearer she could think. Or at least what passes for thinking when your whole body feels like it is being kissed.
“We are fucked,” Laura said, and then laughed at how right she was.
“Allison, you worked on the O-Ball, didn’t you?”
“My division helped test some of the technology, Ed. At first we thought we could incorporate the technology into a bondage device but it was impractical and quite dangerous.”
“How so, doctor?”
“Well Ed, if someone is tied down and they couldn’t move away from the O-Ball, their bodies would be overwhelmed with pure arousal. Imagine getting gangbanged by a hundred of the most beautiful ladies you can imagine for hours. The human body wasn’t designed for it.”
“Allison, have I ever told you that I have always wanted you and I wanted to fuck you right now?”
“That’s the O-Ball talking Ed, and right now the feeling is mutual. Now imagine what those players are going through right now.”
Victoria had never felt lesbian urges but right now, looking at Monica and Jessica, Victoria wondered what it would feel like to sit on both of their faces. She wanted to see the look on Monica’s smug eyes when Victoria smothered her with pussy. She wanted to feel Jessica struggle under her while Victoria rode her face.
God, Victoria was horny.
The O-Ball came at her. Victoria suffered a half second of hesitation as the lust within her surged. Laura yelled something and Victoria’s body took over. She ran to the O-Ball and knew she wouldn’t make it. Victoria dived for it, jumping and reaching out for the O-Ball before it touched the ground. Her fingers touched it, and Victoria had a sudden image of fucking Monica with a strap-on. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever imagined.
Lucky for Victoria, her fingers reflexively swatted the ball back into the air. While Victoria still daydreamed about Monica crying out from Victoria’s large strap-on, her body crashed into the soft sand. The impact hit her body and she climaxed from the sudden sensation. Victoria moaned as the release washed over her.
The crowd cheered. Victoria remembered she was in a game and sat up. The scoreboard changed and showed that Laura must have scored. Victoria collapsed back into the sand.
“This is what it is like to have your brains fucked out,” Victoria said.
“The score is 8 to 8 and nether team can seem to gain an edge. Allison, both teams are struggling just to play remotely competently. What do you think will give one team the edge it needs?”
“Ed, I masturbated thinking of you last night.”
“Really? And uh, how does that relate to which team will win?”
“Oh, umm, wow. I have no idea, Ed.”
Laura wondered what it would be like to kiss Dr. Von Madd. Would his goatee be itchy? Would he try to cop a feel of her tit? Should she cop a feel of his cock?
Jessica was going to try to spike the O-Ball. Laura would have been surprised if the girl was able to jump. Jessica’s red bikini bottom was literally soaked with her desire.
As if just to annoy Laura, Jessica jumped and spiked the O-Ball. Laura had to stop daydreaming about kissing and make the block. Laura’s block was much stronger than Jessica’s swing and the O-Ball rocketed right back into Jessica’s stomach.
The tattooed athlete climaxed a foot away from Laura. She screamed and her hands curled into fists. The O-Ball was completely ignored as it bounced into the sand in front of both women. Jessica was on her feet, shaking as the spasms went through her body. Her eyes were clenched and her mouth hung open as she rode the orgasm.
Laura laughed. “I know how we are going to win this one.”
“And Monica Gilbert takes another one to the crotch! Ed, she is down on the ground forcing her partner to play by herself in a bad double team situation.”
“Oh God, Allison. I love it when you use the word, double-team.”
“Oh do you? I bet you want me to double team you with that pretty technician girl who fixes your microphone.”
“Oh yes, talk more about my microphone, Allison.”
Victoria’s only regret was that this was going to be over with one more point. Forcing her opponents to climax was almost more fun than fucking. She was taking a sadistic delight in Laura’s strategy.
“Please,” Monica begged. She was breathing hard and looking at Victoria with dread. “I can’t come any more.”
“Yes, you will,” Victoria said. Laura was getting ready to serve and Victoria could feel the power of the O-Ball behind her. The thing was; all of Victoria’s fantasies now involved scoring on her opponents.
Laura served and the O-Ball flew over Victoria and Monica. Victoria smiled as Jessica stumbled to her position. Jessica popped the O-Ball up to Monica who popped it straight up. Jessica whimpered as she ran towards the ball, while Monica sighed with relief that someone else had to touch it.
Cruelty, competitiveness and sexual desire flared and melted within Victoria. Her body tapped into an endless source of energy. She could play for another eight hours. She could see how futile Jessica’s scoring attempt was before she even moved to block it. Victoria felt a complete domination over her opponent and she never wanted the feeling to end.
Victoria jumped. She predicted Jessica’s sad swing and moved her arms to block. A cruel inspiration caused Victoria to shift at the last moment and spike the ball in a new direction. It went flying into Monica’s crotch and the screaming orgasm Monica gave was louder than the rising roar of the crowd.
They had won.
to be continued,
Laura and Victoria felt fucking great. The afterglow of their threesome was lifting their spirits. Victoria could still taste Lewis’s seed from when she had sucked him down. Laura could still feel his mouth on her tits where Lewis had bitten her. The two women smiled at each other, knowing that they could handle fucking anything that was thrown at them today.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice boomed out. Dr. Otto Von Madd stood in front of his chair with a microphone. Bikini clad beauties continued to fan him with their palm fronds. “Give me your attention please.”
“This ball I hold here is the latest design of the Omnistimulus Orgasmic Oscillator, or as I like to call it, the O-Ball. The O-Ball constantly emits short range sonic vibrations that are undetectable to the human ear. These sound waves stimulate parts of the brain that manages the human libido. For those of us watching, this means we will be in perpetual states of semi arousal. For the players who will be touching the O-Ball and always within eight square meters, it will be the equivalent of trying to play while freebasing Viagra.”
Dr. Von Madd activated a button on his watch. Immediately Laura and Victoria felt a flush of dampness between their thighs. Victoria remembered every ridge on Lewis’s cock as her tongue went over it while Laura found herself remembering how damn good Lewis’s cock felt sliding up her pussy. Both girls groaned as they realized the o-Ball wasn’t even near them yet.
“Good luck to both teams,” Dr. Von Madd said. “Push your limits!”
To read more, click Whole Post
Laura watched him throw the ball to the other team. Jessica Nyler caught the ball and dropped to one knee. The tattooed brunette stood back up on shaky legs. Laura noticed how slowly Jessica walked to the serving position. That O-Ball was going to be a bitch. Already Laura was fighting the urge to reach down to her bikini bottom and maybe sneak in a few strokes.
Jessica served the ball and it was one shitty serve. The O-Ball barely got over the net and Laura was in the perfect position. As the O-Ball came to her though, the feelings of lust surged in Laura. She flashed back to her time in the Shower Challenge and how good that orgasm was. Her legs locked up and her eyes closed. She opened them up just in time to see the O-Ball coming for her face!
Laura hit the O-Ball into the air. She cried out as the O-Ball touched her skin and made her think about Lewis’s cock ramming her from behind. She just hoped Victoria didn’t bounce the O-Ball back to her.
Which is exactly what happened. Laura watched as Victoria froze and then bounce the O-Ball back into the air. She knew that her partner must have been griped with the same overwhelming memories of fucking. Laura felt bad for her partner but there was no time to think about that. They had to return the O-Ball to the other side of the net or else the New York bitches would score a point.
Laura tried to ignore her wet bikini bottom. She pushed past the mental images of getting fucked and tried to focus on the O-Ball. The athlete tried to ignore how hard her nipples were as she ran to the net. When she jumped in the air, the athlete tried not to think about how much she needed a thick cock inside her right now.
She spiked the O-Ball. Monica made a move towards the O-Ball but literally stumbled over her own shaky legs. The O-Ball bounced off the sand and Laura was happy to see it roll away from her. The further it rolled, the clearer she could think. Or at least what passes for thinking when your whole body feels like it is being kissed.
“We are fucked,” Laura said, and then laughed at how right she was.
“Allison, you worked on the O-Ball, didn’t you?”
“My division helped test some of the technology, Ed. At first we thought we could incorporate the technology into a bondage device but it was impractical and quite dangerous.”
“How so, doctor?”
“Well Ed, if someone is tied down and they couldn’t move away from the O-Ball, their bodies would be overwhelmed with pure arousal. Imagine getting gangbanged by a hundred of the most beautiful ladies you can imagine for hours. The human body wasn’t designed for it.”
“Allison, have I ever told you that I have always wanted you and I wanted to fuck you right now?”
“That’s the O-Ball talking Ed, and right now the feeling is mutual. Now imagine what those players are going through right now.”
Victoria had never felt lesbian urges but right now, looking at Monica and Jessica, Victoria wondered what it would feel like to sit on both of their faces. She wanted to see the look on Monica’s smug eyes when Victoria smothered her with pussy. She wanted to feel Jessica struggle under her while Victoria rode her face.
God, Victoria was horny.
The O-Ball came at her. Victoria suffered a half second of hesitation as the lust within her surged. Laura yelled something and Victoria’s body took over. She ran to the O-Ball and knew she wouldn’t make it. Victoria dived for it, jumping and reaching out for the O-Ball before it touched the ground. Her fingers touched it, and Victoria had a sudden image of fucking Monica with a strap-on. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever imagined.
Lucky for Victoria, her fingers reflexively swatted the ball back into the air. While Victoria still daydreamed about Monica crying out from Victoria’s large strap-on, her body crashed into the soft sand. The impact hit her body and she climaxed from the sudden sensation. Victoria moaned as the release washed over her.
The crowd cheered. Victoria remembered she was in a game and sat up. The scoreboard changed and showed that Laura must have scored. Victoria collapsed back into the sand.
“This is what it is like to have your brains fucked out,” Victoria said.
“The score is 8 to 8 and nether team can seem to gain an edge. Allison, both teams are struggling just to play remotely competently. What do you think will give one team the edge it needs?”
“Ed, I masturbated thinking of you last night.”
“Really? And uh, how does that relate to which team will win?”
“Oh, umm, wow. I have no idea, Ed.”
Laura wondered what it would be like to kiss Dr. Von Madd. Would his goatee be itchy? Would he try to cop a feel of her tit? Should she cop a feel of his cock?
Jessica was going to try to spike the O-Ball. Laura would have been surprised if the girl was able to jump. Jessica’s red bikini bottom was literally soaked with her desire.
As if just to annoy Laura, Jessica jumped and spiked the O-Ball. Laura had to stop daydreaming about kissing and make the block. Laura’s block was much stronger than Jessica’s swing and the O-Ball rocketed right back into Jessica’s stomach.
The tattooed athlete climaxed a foot away from Laura. She screamed and her hands curled into fists. The O-Ball was completely ignored as it bounced into the sand in front of both women. Jessica was on her feet, shaking as the spasms went through her body. Her eyes were clenched and her mouth hung open as she rode the orgasm.
Laura laughed. “I know how we are going to win this one.”
“And Monica Gilbert takes another one to the crotch! Ed, she is down on the ground forcing her partner to play by herself in a bad double team situation.”
“Oh God, Allison. I love it when you use the word, double-team.”
“Oh do you? I bet you want me to double team you with that pretty technician girl who fixes your microphone.”
“Oh yes, talk more about my microphone, Allison.”
Victoria’s only regret was that this was going to be over with one more point. Forcing her opponents to climax was almost more fun than fucking. She was taking a sadistic delight in Laura’s strategy.
“Please,” Monica begged. She was breathing hard and looking at Victoria with dread. “I can’t come any more.”
“Yes, you will,” Victoria said. Laura was getting ready to serve and Victoria could feel the power of the O-Ball behind her. The thing was; all of Victoria’s fantasies now involved scoring on her opponents.
Laura served and the O-Ball flew over Victoria and Monica. Victoria smiled as Jessica stumbled to her position. Jessica popped the O-Ball up to Monica who popped it straight up. Jessica whimpered as she ran towards the ball, while Monica sighed with relief that someone else had to touch it.
Cruelty, competitiveness and sexual desire flared and melted within Victoria. Her body tapped into an endless source of energy. She could play for another eight hours. She could see how futile Jessica’s scoring attempt was before she even moved to block it. Victoria felt a complete domination over her opponent and she never wanted the feeling to end.
Victoria jumped. She predicted Jessica’s sad swing and moved her arms to block. A cruel inspiration caused Victoria to shift at the last moment and spike the ball in a new direction. It went flying into Monica’s crotch and the screaming orgasm Monica gave was louder than the rising roar of the crowd.
They had won.
to be continued,
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