Play With This: The Lubricant Blob

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

It felt pretty great.

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

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

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

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

Fiction: Unidentified Bruising Asshole

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vaquel went to sleep confident that she would have answers.

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

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

“Comet fuckers,” Vaquel swore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Black hole sucking fuckers!” Vaquel swore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vaquel cried out as she regained control of her body. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fiction: Paddle Pawn

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you doing, Uncle?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?” she said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m authenticating,” I said firmly. 

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

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

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she cried.

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

“Fuck, fuck, SHIT, SHIT!” she cried.

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

“GOD DAMN IT FUCK!”

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

“Ow! Ow! OWW!”

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

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

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

“So we’re done?” Ms. Merit said.

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

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

“What does that me-SON OF A BITCH!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hot damn!” Ms. Merit said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Von Madd Laboratories Holiday Schedule

Greetings employees,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Science will be conducted on Monday and Tuesday.

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

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

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

Happy Thanksgiving!
Dr. Otto Von madd

Play With This: Sex Coach

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or,

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

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

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

Fiction: Sea Relations

Explorer’s Log: After a boring five week journey, I have finally arrived at the star system designated Queen’s Enviable Fashion Sense by Royal Astronomers.  There are seventeen planets in this system but only one is not a lifeless rock.  The fourth planet is covered in water and shows no sign of intelligent life.  I will descend onto the planet and take a closer look.  End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: Praise the Queen! After that long trip, a nice swim is just what the medbay ordered!  Initial scans show that the water is clean of any biohazards so I will skip the clunky spacesuit this time.  I can’t wait to take my first swim in months!

Vaquel Di floated in a sea of bliss.   The warm waters of the planet’s equator encompassed her body.  Colorful tropical fish passed by her and she lazily waved at them.  She should have been making scans for the planetary survey but fuck it.  She was enjoying herself.

Today she wore the most minimum of equipment.  She had on her glassteel bubble helmet so she could breathe, a utility belt in case she ran into trouble and her propulsion boots in case she didn’t feel like swimming.  That was it.  Her large brown tits floated in the water.  Her round ass was completely exposed spanked gently by the current.  Even her pink pubic hair was exposed because what was the point of swimming on an alien planet if you weren’t going to go naked? 

Vaquel enjoyed a lazy hour doing nothing.  After months of being bored in space, she was more than happy to be bored in an ocean.  At least there was more to see in an ocean.  The seaweed here grew in long strips that glowed with bioluminescence.  Every fish was brightly colored as if showing off for a parade.  Vaquel had quite a nice time floating naked and watching the sea life.

“I declare today to be a day off,” Vaquel said out loud.  The fish didn’t answer her.

“I don’t have to do a single survey.  I don’t have to do any maintenance on my ship.  I have been travelling for months and for what?  A lot of staring at nothing and the occasional fuck.  There has been no shopping, no parties and sure as fuck next to no flirting.  I am taking the day off and if the Queen doesn’t like it, she can come here and tell me herself.”

She waited a moment but the Queen of Euphoria did not manifest and smite her.  Vaquel took that as a sign that her vacation day had been made official.

“Just a lazy day floating in the water,” Vaquel said to herself.

The seaweed moved back and forth in the current.

Vaquel noticed something below her.  In the middle of the seaweed was a circular reef.  It had strange protrusions that stretched out at weird angles.  She had never seen a reef structure like that before.   

Vaquel swam down to take a closer look.   She had time to kill and something about the reef looked odd.  Technically, she wasn’t investigating something on a new planet because she was an explorer.  Vaquel decided that she was checking it out as part of her holiday.  She was just curious.

As she got closer, she realized that the seaweed wasn’t just around the reef, it looked like it had been planted in rows expanding out from the reef.  At first she thought the seaweed might be a part of the reef but it was too symmetrical.  This was more that just random sproutings.

“Is this agriculture?” she asked herself.  She had a bioscanner on her utility belt but she left it alone.  Doing a scan would have been vacation behavior.

A shape swam towards her from the east.  It was the largest creature that Vaquel had seen today.  It was man sized and better yet, man shaped.  It had a head, two arms and three legs though the legs might have been swimming tails.  It was a bright green with blue and yellow stripes.  The being had large purple eyes that blinked slowly at her.  As it got closer, Vaquel was disturbed to see the creature smile at her.  All of its many teeth were very sharp looking.

Vaquel’s hand drifted down to her gyropistol but the creature didn’t seem bothered.  It swam up to her and squealed at her.  The high pitch of its communication was barely in the range of Vaquel’s hearing.

“Greetings fish-thing,” she said.  She was starting to wish that she had worn a spacesuit after all.

The Fish-Man squealed at her again.  This time Vaquel felt the slight touch of deep sonics on her body.  Her breasts tingled as it took the brunt of the sonics. 

“That didn’t feel half bad,” she said.

The Fish-Man’s smile grew wider and Vaquel became more nervous.  He had an awful lot of teeth.  The Fish-Man reached out with one of his hands towards her breast.  He hummed something and she felt the sonics tickled across her floating tits.

Vaquel laughed and relaxed.  She let the Fish-Man touch her breasts.  If there is one thing she had learned while travelling across star systems; it is that aliens love tits. She could write a paper on the universal appeal of mammary glands. 
The Fish-Man’s hands had six fingers, all spaced equidistant around his hand.  He cupped her breast and Vaquel sighed as dozens of little suckers attached themselves to her breast.  He jiggled her breast and emitted a lower pitch squeal that did funny things to Vaquel’s thighs.

“May I?” she said as she reached for the Fish-Man’s chest?  The creature smiled wider so she touched his chest.  She was surprised at what she felt.  Instead of cold scales, it was warm flesh.  She also felt incredible muscle mass.  This creature had been swimming its entire life and had the physique to show for it.

The seaweed swayed gently with the current as they groped each other.  Neither of them were in a hurry and Vaquel enjoyed the moment.  It was a shame she couldn’t communicate with him but then again, maybe it was for the best.  It was her day off after all.  Talking could be so tiresome.  Today she just wanted to feel.

The Fish-Man squealed something and Vaquel felt a sonic tingle between her thighs.  The tingle started at the lips of her sex and then went deeper.  She moaned as the deep vibrations echoed through her cunt. 

He gestured down towards her pink pubic hair.  He looked to her for permission.  Vaquel answered him by guiding his hand to her sex.  His fingers slipped inside her sex with nimble ease.  The tiny suckers on his fingers latched on and pulled at her sensitive flesh.

“Comets and sunbursts!” Vaquel cried.  It was a startling and wonderful sensation.  As his fingers explored her, the little suckers nibbled and teased her from within.

The Fish-man smiled wider.  Vaquel tried to return the smile though she had a third less teeth than him.

She glanced down and noticed a new appendence emerging from below the Fish-Man’s waist.  It was long, slender and had a familiar looking bulb at the end.  This time her smile was more genuine because she recognized the appendage.  The fish-man had a cock!

Vaquel reached for his cock and squeezed.  It was just as muscular as the rest of him.  The Fish-Man hummed when she touched his cock.  Sonic vibrations rippled across her body. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Vaquel said. 

The Fish-Man hummed happily in response.

“You might like this more,” Vaquel said. 

She pulled his cock towards her cunt.  He removed his fingers and gripped her ass instead.  They pulled each other closer together as he slid into her. 
He was a little too big but Vaquel was a little too much of a slut to complain.  His cock pulsed inside her and Vaquel clenched around him.  The Fish-Man squealed something loud and indecipherable but Vaquel felt the squeal done to the deepest parts of her body.

Vaquel wrapped her long brown legs around his green waist.  He held her ass with both hands.  The multiple suckers on his fingers latched on to her plump butt with the tightness of an airlock.  Vaquel’s breasts were tightly pressed against the Fish-Man’s muscular chest.

The Fish-Man fucked her.  His three tails did a complicated dance of movement that let him slide in and out of her while they slowly turned in place.  Vaquel laughed with delight.  It was a lazy slow rhythm that matched her lazy slow mood.  He pumped her cunt as if he had all the time in the world.

Schools of colorful fish drifted by.  The Fish-man’s cock slid in and out of her.
The field of seaweed flowed in the current.  The Fish-Man’s fingers gripped her ass even tighter.

The sun’s beams speared the tropical waters with a storm of refracting light.  The Fish-man’s humming sonics were reaching parts of Vaquel that she didn’t know she had.

Vaquel was close.  The fucking was going deliciously slow but her orgasm was inevitable.  She unclenched her legs from around the Fish-Man’s waist and gently pulled herself off his wonderful cock.  Turning around, she presented her ass to the creature.  She wiggled her hips and opened her thighs.

The Fish-Man understood.  He reached around and grappled her floating tits.  His cock slid back into her cunt.  Vaquel leaned forward and the angle allowed his already impressive cock to reach further inside her. 

The fucking resumed but it was faster now.  The slow lazy pace was gone.  The Fish-Man’s tails churned the water as he fucked her.  They were still floating in place but the waters around her was a whirlpool of current.

Vaquel laughed and clenched down with her cunt.  She stretched her hands out to feel the water as it spun around her.  She moaned as the Fish-Man squeezed her breasts tighter.  She surrendered her body to sensations around her and within.

“Glory to the Queen!” she cried out.  Her orgasm was a wave crashing within her body.  She felt the boredom of a long space voyage be washed away and a new lust for life sweeping in.  She was embraced by the warmth of the ocean and her strange new lover.  Vaquel reborn in a new ocean of optimisim.

A shrieking squeal assaulted her ears.  The glassteel bubble helmet vibrated and she feared that it would crack.  The thrusting stopped suddenly and the Fish-Man released her.  Vaquel floated for a moment before her post-orgasmic limbs would obey her commands.  She turned and looked to see what was happening.

A red shape was swimming rapidly towards Vaquel and the Fish-Man.  It was being propelled by the same weird three tails that the Fish-man had.  The creature had breasts although not as big as Vaquel’s.  Her face was hard to see at this distance but even from this far away, Vaquel could see the many, many, many teeth that were being bared at her.

The shrieking squeal hit Vaquel again.  It vibrated her from head to toe.  It did not feel friendly at all.

The Fish-Man squealed a long and sad call.  Vaquel smiled.

“I guess this means you are married,” Vaquel said. 

The Fish-Man swam towards the Fish-Woman.  The female easily dodged her unfaithful lover and headed towards Vaquel.

Vaquel sighed and activated her propulsion boots.  Powerful motors activated and sent Vaquel flying through the water back to her ship.  The stress of going full speed in the water was doing awful things to her breasts but Vaquel endured.  She had a feeling that the Fish-Women’s teeth would be far worse.

The Deep Probe Ship floated in the water.  Vaquel slowed down and activated the airlock.  She pulled herself out of the water and into the ship.  It felt strange to be out of the water after spending so much time there.  She should have resented the Fish-woman for chasing her out of the water but Vaquel couldn’t bring herself to hate her.  The Fish-Woman was protecting the cock that belonged to her and after experiencing that cock for herself, Vaquel agreed that it was a cock worth protecting.

“No, you can have that one,” Vaquel said out loud.  She would just move the ship elsewhere and swim far away from the jealous Fish-Woman.

Besides, there might be plenty more Fish-Men in the sea.

Appendix X

I have been doing some research lately in several different genres.  When I explore a new genre that I am unfamiliar with, it usually doesn’t take long before I find a list of recommended source materials.  Usually these are book or movies that are either held up as a superb example of the genre, or as something that might not be known to the masses but are influential on the people who create this genre work.

You don’t see a lot of that when it comes to erotica.  This has been bugging me lately.  I think of first time erotica writers and it would be nice if I had a list of books they could read so that they could get a better grasp on the genre.  If zombie fiction, apocalypse fiction and spy fiction has a list, why can’t erotica?

I think before we create such a list, we have to create some standards.  Most lists of classic erotica books include the most famous erotica books like Fanny Hill or Lady Chatterley’s Lover.  The problem with this approach is often the most famous erotica books are famous not because they were good, but because they were banned.  They went to court.  They had big public battles.  They didn’t necessarily have to be good.

I say this not to diminish such classics like Fanny Hill but merely to point out that sexuality is a fluid changing thing.  Fanny Hill can mention in passing that sex happened and it was scandalous for its time period.  I clearly remember missing a sex scene because the abundant euphemisms completely bypassed my reading comprehension.  Maybe the problem was that I was too stupid to enjoy Fanny Hill but I suspect the real problem is that the style was just too old for me.

So if we toss out the classics that are famous for being famous, what real standard can we apply?  Quality seems like an easy choice but erotica is a fickle bitch.  Readers always disagree on which books are better than others but because erotica depends on sexuality, it is even more influenced by personal tastes.  What is exciting and interesting to one reader might seem ludicrous or down right offensive to others.  That doesn’t take into account that BDSM is a different beast from slut stories which are utterly different from romance porn.

At this point you have to fall back on just picking erotica that is well written.  Good luck with deciding that subjectively.

An even uglier thing to consider is just how freaking huge erotica is.  Thousands of books have been published and many of those were printed on a smaller run than most mainstream books.  “My Wife the Golf Slut” might be the greatest erotica book of 1982 but if it was only released to dirty bookstores in the Midwest; odds are most readers will never encounter it.

That is only considering printed works.  The internet has been steadily pumping out erotica since I believe the 2nd day that the internet was in operation.  I would not be exaggerating to say that there likely millions of erotica stories out there at this moment.

What the fuck to do?  You want to list erotica that is either really good and lets a writer see the genre at the best of its form, and you want to include erotica that serves as almost a blueprint for aspiring writers to understand.  You need a list that is not only a “best-of” but is instead a “this is how it is done”.  You need books that inspire writers to write their own tale.

Such an undertaking sounds like a pain in the ass to me.  Therefore I plan to make it my goal for 2013. 

I think I will need to create another blog that is solely dedicated to this concept.  I will call it Appendix X.  I think I need a target number, like say ten prime stories that capture what you can do with erotica.  Oh man, the hubris of typing that last sentence is overwhelming.  Who am I to judge the best stories that exemplify erotica? 

Oh wait, I’m a reader and a writer.  Also, if people disagree, then they are free to disagree.  Dialogue makes anything better.  A blog will help make it a true group effort.

This is going to be a really big pain in the ass

Play With This: The Six Secret Spanks

In a forbidden temple that sits on a forbidden mountain resides a master of a forbidden art.  The Mast of Spanking spends every day practicing his spanking.  He uses the back of his hand, the front of the hand, paddles, crops, books, random pieces of wood and once he even used a limp noodle to devastating effect on a woman’s ass.  He knows every detail to the art of spanking.

The most incredible technique that the Master of Spanking knows is the Six Secret Spanks.  These spanks will transform a person’s ass to a state of perfect happiness.  It will also hurt a lot. 

For some reason, this ancient secret technique is now available to the masses.  It is being printed on cheap paper and left at Asian supermarkets.  Monks with really large hands are distributing the pamphlet at airports.  Kinky people have reported seeing the technique explained on subway walls and tenement halls.  
Perhaps the Master of Spanking wishes to enlighten the world.  Who knows?  He could just be a really nice guy.

The First Secret Spank awakens the person’s body to heightened super sensitivity.  They will become aware of the slightest change in air pressure on their skin.  They will hear birds fart at a hundred yards.  They will feel the desire in people’s glances.

The Second Secret Spank will bring great heat to entire body.  They will feel as if they were cuddled inside a giant fur blanket that is actually made of a hundred tiny spanks.

The Third Secret Spank will hurt. 

The Fourth Secret Spank will hurt so much that the person being spanked will evoke an uncontrollable flood of curse words, swears and impossible anatomical positions.

The Fifth Secret Spank will humiliate.  It will break down the ego of the one being spanked.  It will strip them down to their core beliefs and in the moment, they will either decide that they are deserving of punishment or worthy of reward.  It will also hurt. 

The Sixth Secret Spank will take the spanked person to a state of perfect pain and pleasure.  They will experience the most painful sensation of their life along with the most pleasurable.  They may orgasm.  They will cry.

Applying the Six Secret Spanks incorrectly will have unforeseen side effects.  Please read the pamphlet correctly.   

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

Fiction: Green Room

Bill Angle was annoyed.  He was scheduled to appear on a cable network segment where he had to convincingly argue that a coal company’s recent release of toxins into the air was somehow free speech and pro-small business.  It wasn’t the shameless defense of a horrible position that bothered him.  He had made a career of defending rightwing talking points and blaming everyone from Kenyans to teachers for the cause of anything that happened to be going wrong today.  No, he was annoyed because he was waiting in this boring ass green room with two year old magazines and a TV set stuck broadcasting the cable news network. He was bored out of his mind.

Someone walked in.  It was a gorgeous redhead in a crisp blue business blazer and skirt.  Her pale cleavage was just shy of improper for cable news and her long red hair was a flaming halo around her head.  Crimson lipstick decorated lips that smiled with honest cruelty.

“Holly Valentine,” Bill said with a contemptuous sneer. 

“Bill Dickfucker,” Holly said with her usual charm. 

“What is the internet’s most famous liberal hack reporter doing here?” Bill said.

“The same reason that a professional conservative fluffer is here,” Holly said.  “I am here to report what I found about Black Sky’s recent poisoning of a county’s water supply.”

“Obviously you meant to say that you are here to repeat communist talking points fabricated by French environmentalist terrorists,” Bill said.

Holly never lost her smile though something in her bright green eyes turned darker.  “I never repeat talking points, I look for facts.  That’s what reporters do.”

Bill stood up.  He towered over Holly.  If anyone asked, he would tell them he stood up to assert dominance.  If he was to tell the truth, he would say he stood up to look down ay Holly’s impressive cleavage.

“You’re calling yourself a reporter?” Bill said.  “You are a known sympathizer to several organizations like Occupy Wall Street and Sexual Freedom Fighters!”

“Hell yeah I am sympathetic,” Holly said.  She stood closer to Bill.  Even though she was looking up at him, her eyes were fearless.  “But I don’t take money from them to argue their points.  Unlike you, who appear on news shows as a so called ‘independent pundit’ while drawing a salary at seven different oil companies, six different coal companies, three gun manufacturers and the god damn Republican candidate for President you asshole hypocrite!”

“Liberal skank feminazi!” Bill yelled.

“Corporate sellout hitman!” Holly yelled.

A knock on the door stopped them.  An intern poked his head in.  “You guys will be on in twenty minutes.”

“Thanks,” Bill and Holly said together. 

The door closed.  Bill looked down at Holly.  The reporter stared back at him.  Their unbridled hatred boiled silently for a few moments. 

“Fine, asshole,” Holly said.  She reached for his pants and unzipped him.  “Just once I would like you to admit you want to fuck first.”

“Appeasing your enemies is a liberal trait, not a core value of a conservative,” Bill said. 

Holly pulled his pants down along with his underwear.  His hard cock pointed straight at her. 

“I just think you can’t talk about sex because all you conservatives are so fucking repressed,” Holly said.

“We’re not repressed,” Bill snapped.  “We’re just not sluts like yo-OH GOD YES!”

Bill’s cock disappeared between Holly’s crimson lips.  With a single gulp she took him into her mouth.  Not even the morning slut on Wolf News could do that.  Bill experienced a moment of pure bliss as his cock hit the back of her throat.

Holly looked up at him.  She had that smug look in her eyes.  He hated that she knew how much he liked it.  He hated it so much that his cock couldn’t stop pulsing in her mouth.

“Obama voting bitch,” Bill snarled.  He grabbed Holly’s head and slowly fucked her mouth.  “Damn contraception wanting slut.”

Holly growled.  It made her mouth vibrate in so many wonderful ways.  Bill felt the slight pressure of teeth on his cock.  She could fuck him over in so many ways.  It terrified him that his cock was at the mercy of this liberal media woman.  His cock was about to shoot his load at any moment.

He fucked her mouth.  Or maybe Holly’s mouth fucked his cock.  It was hard to tell.  He reached down and grabbed a handful of those perfect pale breasts.  Her blazer offered no protection from his groping hands. 

“Suck that cock, liberal whore,” Bill groaned.  “Suck a real man’s cock.  Suck the cock of a hard working American.”

Holly growled some more.  Her eyes stared up at him in hatred.  She sucked so hard that her cheeks caved in and Bill’s knees began to tremble.  She was making him come with her decadent hedonistic liberal tricks.

She pulled back suddenly.  His cock popped out of her mouth.  It was smeared with her lipstick.  “Not yet, fucker.  I demand some equal pay in the form of some pussy licking.”

Bill started to say something but he was too busy watching Holly.  The woman stood up and lifted her skirt.  Of course she had no panties.  Her thick red bush of hair taunted him.  Holly walked over to the green room couch and sat down.  Her pussy waited for him.

“Eat me, Bill.”

Bill dropped to his knees in front of her.  He grabbed her thighs pulled her closer to him.  His head dipped down and paused right above her sex.  The smell of her desire was intoxicating.

“Quit being a tease you fucking chickenhawk!” Holly said.

Bill dived in.  Anger and lust drove his licking.  He ate her too roughly.  He bit at her most sensitive flesh.  He licked with a brutality that would make a neocon proud.  He took what he wanted from her sex and what he wanted was everything.

Holly twisted underneath him.  Her hands went to his perfect hair and kept his head pinned to her sex.

“Eat that cunt you mother fucking gay bashing bigot,” Holly groaned.

Bill felt a surge of anger at being called a bigot.  He loved fucking black girls.  He licked harder.

“Oh yeah, eat the pussy of a real woman,” Holly said.  “You like eating the pussy of someone who uses birth control.  I know you do.  OH SHIT!”

Bill attacked her clitoris with his tongue.  Quick comebacks on cable news had trained his tongue to move faster than a normal man’s.  His tongue rapidly flicked against her clitoris better than any vibrator.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Holly said until Bill lifted his head.

She gave him a look of pure hatred.  “Fucker, I was about to come.”

Bill rose up and positioned his cock between her thighs.   “Typical liberal, always wanting something for nothing.”

He slipped his cock into her.  Holly groaned and her eyes rolled.  “All right,” she said.  “Let’s see what you got, asshole.”

Bill fucked her.  The couch shook under the force of his thrusts.  Holly spread her legs impossibly wide as he ploughed into her.  Bill was disturbed by her flexibility as well as her shamelessness in exposing herself to him.  It disturbed him so much that he fucked her even faster.

“Admit it,” he grunted between thrusts.  “Your pansy liberal friends can’t fuck you like a real conservative can.”

Holly’s crimson lips curled into a snarl.  Her legs suddenly wrapped around him and she rolled off the couch.  They tumbled to the floor and Holly was on top of him.  Her pussy sank down onto his cock and squeezed with incredible force.

“Fucking hell, you crazy bitch,” Bill groaned.

Holly laughed.  “Your cock tells me that you like it.”

Holly rocked back and forth on his cock.  Bill was happily trapped underneath her.  Holly’s pale breasts shook in front of him as they almost escaped her top.  Long red hair kissed his face with every thrust.  There was nowhere else that he wanted to be.

Bill tried to thrust up into her but his position was terrible.  All he could do was lie there and take it.  The feeling of being powerless unsettled him.  The feeling of Holly riding his cock more than made up for it.

Without warning, Holly stopped.  Her pussy was almost completely off his cock.  Only the tip of his cock remained inside her.

“What?” Bill asked.

“Your bosses as Black Sky claim that the pollution of the water table didn’t start until three years ago,” Holly said.  “I bet it has been longer than that and you would know.”

“How the fuck would I know?” Bill said.  He tried again to thrust inside Holly but damn, it was impossible. 

“You do all their media bullshit,” Holly said.  “You need to know all the truths before you can remake them into lies.”

“Damn it, I am this close to coming.  Can’t we talk about this afterwards?” Bill asked.

“Nope,” Holly said.  She smiled at him as her wet pussy began its incredibly slow dismount from the tip of his cock.

“Fuck!” Bill yelled.  “They started to pump waste material back in 2000, in February/”

Holly moaned and slid back onto his cock.  The muscles in her pussy were contracting from an orgasm.  The truth had gotten her off.

Encased once more in Holly’s pussy, Bill climaxed as well.  His cock emptied inside of her and he was so relieved that his orgasm wasn’t ruined.

“God, I hate you,” Bill said.

“Not as much as I hate you,” Holly said.

The green room smelled of sex.

Play With This: Sex Butlers

Today's Play With This is provided by the supra-creative Joe Tortuga.

There's probably no bigger downer at an orgy when everyone is all entangled together, and about to do something nasty to one or more other people, and discovering that some important supply is missing or out of reach.  The condoms are out, but there are more beside the guest bed nightstand.  The lube bottle rolled away and is now in the closet. The special blank and white feels-like-real-skin double dildo is still in the dishwasher since the last orgy.

All of these things, I must be honest, happened to me.  But then I discovered Sex Butlers, Inc.  I now have them at every function that I can (sometimes there's no time to call ahead, alas).  They provide a simple service: someone trained in Sex Butlery will attend your event.  That persons' job, as any good butlers' is to pay attention and be ready.

When it is time for a condom, and you are search the floor or bed next to you, the Sex Butler will drop one in your hand.  When the lube rolls away to corners unknown, the Sex Butler will be there to gently nudge it back into place.  They'll be sure to place any necessary equipment near you, be it dildos, rope, ice, matches, crops or handcuffs. For a fee the Sex Butler themselves will bring a case of esoteric equipment your orgy-goers could make use of, all of it properly cleaned, and sanitary, of course.

Like all good butlers, Sex Butlers are there, but they aren't part of what is going on.  They buttle, but don't butt-in. This is the key to their success, and their usefulness at your party.  Unlike traditional butlers, who are almost exclusively men, Sex Butlers come in all genders, shapes, sizes and ethnicities. The temperament to be a Sex Butler is rare, and is thus encouraged wherever it is found.  Sex Butlers, Inc provides no "sex maids" although they do sell branded outfits for the adventurous role-player.

So, how do you use this in a story? Surely the Sex Butlers have seen everything, and could perhaps tell you some of what they've seen.  Also, who trains a Sex Butler, and what is that like? Are they asexual or hyper-sexual beings? What's a Sex Butler party like.  I mean, other than incredibly organized?

Fiction: House of Tremors

“Greetings mortals!  It is me, Suckubeth, the infernal dream that always makes you cream.  With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick companion, Burny.”
“Beware! Tonight is Halloween!  The one time of the year that demons can steal your soul just by flashing their tits!

“Oh Burny, that is just an old whore’s tale.  You only loose your soul if you motorboat a demon’s tits.” 

“Today mortals we have an extra special story for you.  It is that rare sex story that has monsters, not-so-innocent girls, sex AND foreplay.  Scary!  It is a story I like to call, ‘House of Tremors’.”
“No! Not that story!  Is it too sexy!  It will turn every reader into a raging sex maniac!” 

“Burny, you’re overreacting.  If they are reading this blog, they are already a sex maniac.”

“Read on, mortals.”


~~~


Kalea looked at the carnival haunted house.  It looked pretty cheesy.  Painted ghosts peeked out of broken windows.  A mural of a top-heavy witch decorated the entrance.  The sign read ‘House of Tremors’. It didn’t look like the kind of place that Kalea would enjoy.

Her friend, Sara, swore otherwise.  “Trust me,” Sara had said.  “You want to go in there.  Just make sure you go in alone, alright?  I promise it will blow your mind.”

So here Kalea was.  The county carnival had come to town and there wasn’t much to do.  The rides looked like deathtraps and the half the carnival games had already been shut down by the local sheriff.  Kalea might as well see what the haunted house had to offer.

A couple of giggling teenagers were in line ahead of her.  The boy promised his girlfriend that he would protect her.  The girlfriend promised she would need to be protected.  The man dressed as a hunchback let them in.

“How many in your group?” the hunchback asked Kalea.  Up close, Kalea had a feeling that might actually be hunched backed.  He looked very bored.

“Just me,” she said.

The hunchback smiled.  His eyes went from boredom to excitement in a heartbeat.  “Make sure you look behind the cocoon for a special part of the house,” he said.

“Alright,” Kalea said.  Maybe this is what Sara was talking about.

The door opened and Kalea stepped into a dim hallway.  Skeletons were painted on the walls.  A zombie mannequin held tattered hats like some sort of human hatrack. 

The hallway turned and the light was replaced with a black light.  Glowing white cobwebs filled the hallway.  A human shaped cocoon was on the right wall.

Kalea walked over to the cocoon.  Red eyes appeared above her and dropped rapidly.  Despite herself, Kalea screamed at the sudden approach.  A giant spider, all in glowing white, dangled above her before receding. 

“Cute,” she said.  She was annoyed with herself for screaming.  Cheap tricks were easy scares.  Kalea began to wonder if Sara was more easily impressed than Kalea knew. 

She did look behind the human cocoon.  There was a narrow door with a glowing doorknob.  Now she was intrigued.  Maybe there was a separate route for people by themselves.

Kalea went through the door.  Painted arrows in the floor led onward.  Grunting sounds came from up ahead.  Kalea was a little afraid but also strangely aroused.  She closed the door behind her and went down the hall.

There was a light up ahead.  An entire section of the wall was glass and it revealed a room on the other side.  The grunting sounds came from a speaker.  Kalea looked through the glass and gasped.

A naked woman was bent over a bench.  The woman wore a cat mask that covered her face completely.  Behind her was a naked man who wore a black hood like an executioner’s mask.

The man was fucking the man from behind.  He was covered in muscles like a body builder and he was pounding the fuck out of her.  The grunting sounds were the woman moaning from each thrust.  The cat mask concealed her face entirely but the way she slammed her body back into the executioner told Kalea how much she was enjoying it.

The executioner paused and pulled his cock out.  Kalea’s eyes widened.  The executioner’s cock was as massive as the rest of him.  It was a monster of a cock and he slammed it back into the woman.

“Holy shit,” Kalea whispered.  This is what Sara had been talking about.  There was a damn live sex act in the House of Tremors! 

Kalea kept watching.  The executioner was like a machine.  His body glistened from sweat or body oil.  In and out, in and out, he rammed.  It was unreal.  Sometimes he would fuck slowly and the woman would tremble on every inch that was being put into her.  Sometimes he was would furiously fast and the woman shook from the onslaught.

Eventually Kalea couldn’t watch anymore.  It was too vivid.  It was too unexpected. 

More importantly, she wondered what else waited for her in the House of Tremors.

Kalea left the glass wall.  The sounds of woman screaming in pleasure faded.  Glowing arrows guided Kalea to a door.  In dripping red letters, a message was written.

“Kiss the Mummy.”

Kalea opened the door.  It was a brightly lit dining room.  Cobwebs covered a dining table.  A grotesque menagerie of mannequins were in the act of eating gross looking food.  

She heard the scream of teenagers from up ahead.  Kalea followed the sound out of the dining room.

Another dark hallway led to room with a sarcophagus.  A mummy laid in the sarcophagus.  Faux Egyptian decorations adorned the room.  Mannequins of men with the heads of jackals leered at Kalea.

A hallway led out but Kalea ignored it.  The instructions said to kiss the mummy.  With the image of the executioner pounding the car masked woman still in her head, Kalea knew she just had to kiss the mummy.

Two steps in, the Mummy swung to an upright position.  Kalea jumped but the Mummy didn’t move.  It was just a mannequin.

Her heart pounding a bit faster, Kalea approached the Mummy.  She expected it to come to life.  The Mummy’s lips were cracked and rotted teeth grinned at her.  She kissed it anyway, as best she could.  She was relieved when the lips didn’t kiss back.

She heard a grinding noise.  Another doorway had opened.  Kalea looked to make sure no saw her before ducking into the new entrance.

This area was brightly lit.  A narrow hallway loomed before her.  There were holes in the walls and from every hole was an arm wrapped in bandages.  The arms moved.  There would be no way to go down that hall without the arms grabbing her.

Kalea checked the door behind her.  The knob turned and the door cracked open.  She could turn back at any moment.  It was good to know.

She walked down the hallway.  The hands reached for her.  They didn’t tug at her shirt or play with her hair; they went straight for her tits.  They reached between her legs.  A hand went around her throat and playfully squeezed.

Kalea froze.  She was scared.  She was also very turned on.  The door was right behind her.  She could leave right now.

She stayed.  The hands cupped her breasts.  The groping hands squeezed her ass.  The seeking hands rubbed at her crotch.  The fearless hands reached under her shirt.  She was covered in fondling admiration.

A set of bold fingers opened her mouth.  The fingers slipped over her tongue as her lips sealed around them.  The fingers gently fucked her face.  Kalea surprised herself by sucking them back.

More hands touched body.  Curious hands felt their way along her thighs.  Mischievous hands tickled her under the ribs.  Evil hands pinched her nipples through the material of her shirt and bra.  Strong hands gripped her wrists as if they were imprisoning her.  Knowing hands stroked her crotch from outside her pants.

Without warning, the hands drew back.  Kalea nearly fell from the sudden absence of hands.  The narrow hallway was devoid of life except for her. 

Kalea took a deep breath.  Her heart was pounding and her pussy was wet.  That was scary but damn, she didn’t want it to stop. 

She couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

At the end of the hallway was another door.  A tombstone was painted on the door. 

The inscription read “Ask the vampire where to go.”

Kalea went through the door and back into the main part of the House of Tremors.  She was in a bathroom where a mass of tentacles was coming out of the toilet.  The silhouette of an unsuspecting woman showered behind a curtain.  The sound of running water played on a recording.

She lefty the bathroom and went down another hallway.  Kalea was almost running down the hall to get to the next secret part. 

Around the corner was a bedroom.  Plastic bats were everywhere.  A mannequin of a woman slept in the bed.  Posed above her was a man dressed as Dracula.  He made menacing motions towards the woman.  When he saw Kalea, he turned and stalked towards her.

“I am supposed to ask you where I go next,” she said.

The Vampire smiled.  Fanged teethed sparkled at her.

“I will tell you, for a bite!” he said.

Kalea shuddered.  The teeth looked painful.  “Okay,” she said.

The Vampire pulled her to him.  He pushed her head to the side and his mouth descended on her neck.  Her fingers clutched his arms as she waited for the bite.

It was a nibble.  It was a delicate bite on the pulse of her neck.  Kalea moaned.  He was kissing and nibbling all the right spots.

“Dude! He’s biting that chick!” someone yelled.

Kalea jumped.  The Vampire held onto her and didn’t let her escape.  He bit down harder and she felt the fake teeth presh against her skin.  She cried out in anticipation.

“Come on Steve,” another voice said.  “I don’t want to watch them neck all day.  Maybe the next part has some blood!”

The Vampire let her go and Kalea took a step back.  He had bit down hard on one of her favorite spots.  She was torn between a need to fuck and a need to run away.  She checked her neck and there was no blood.  His bite wasn’t nearly as hard as she imagined it.

“Go through this door,” the Vampire said.  His hand pointed to what Kalea thought was just a painted door, but no, it was real.

“Go, before others come,” he said.

Kalea followed the Vampire’s instructions.  The door opened and she was in another short hallway.  A few feet away was another door.  She pushed through it and into the next room.

This room was set up like a mad scientist’s lab.  Electrical gear lit up and made lightning sounds.  Fake thunder rolled on a recording. 

The center of the room held Kalea’s attention.  A Frankenstein was strapped to the table.  The table was slanted so that the Frankenstein and Kalea were eye level.  Green paint covered his skin and shoddy clothes adorned his body.

His cock however, was completely exposed.  Unlike the rest of him, it wasn’t green.  It was a fleshy pink and red around the tip.  It was a little thicker than she had seen before.  She thought it was fake until she saw it throb.

 “Hmm,” Kalea said.  She took a closer look at the Frankenstein.  He was strapped in tight.  A gag went across his mouth.  His eyes were staring at her. 

“So I am allowed to touch you?” Kalea asked.

Frankenstein nodded.  Inarticulate moans came from the gag.

“So many people groped me in the hallway,” Kalea said.  “I guess it would only be fair if I wanted to grope you back.”

The Frankenstein whimpered.  The eyes grew wider.

Kalea reached for the cock.   It was hot in her hand.  She gave him a good squeeze and enjoyed the thickness of the cock.

Frankenstein moaned.

Kalea traced her finger around the tip.  It was a beast of a cock.  It was too thick.  It was more than a mouthful.  It would tear her up if it was inside her. 

She wanted it.  The bite on her neck still had her lightheaded.  The groping hands had more her so hypersensitive.  Watching the Executioner fuck had made her so wet.   

Frankenstein wanted it too.  He moved his hips but the straps held him tight.  He was helpless.

Kalea enjoyed herself.  She stroked him for a minute and laughed as the Frankenstein moaned.  When she opened her mouth, Frankenstein throbbed with lust.  Kalea pretended to go down on him but stopped at the last second.  Frankenstein moaned with frustration. 

“See you later,” she said.  Kalea was too horny.  She almost did take him into her mouth.  She left now while she could still control herself.

There was one door leading out.  A torn piece of cloth stretched across the door.  Letters had been embroidered onto the cloth.

“Flash your tits at the werewolf.”

“We’ll see,” Kalea said out loud.

The door opened into a noisy hallway.  Recorded screams were pumped into he hallway.  Lights cycled on and off to create a chaotic feel.  Kalea could hear screaming people rushing ahead of her.

Kalea walked slower.  Heads decorated the walls.  Here was a head with a hockey mask and there was a head of some sea monster.  The heads sometimes moved and other heads lit up.

Around the corner was the head of a werewolf.  Kalea knew that this was the one.  Was she really going to flash her tits at it?

Kalea looked both ways down the hallway.  She grabbed her shirt and yanked it up.  Her black bra covered her tits but hey, she wasn’t going to strip for it.  This would have to be enough.

The werewolf’s head moved away as the wall it was mounted on swiveled.  There was another hallway.  Kalea pulled down her shirt and went in.

This hallway was brightly lit.  It was a narrow hallway and the walls were covered from floor to ceiling in cloth of all kinds of colors.

They were panties.  Boring white panties hung alongside intricate lace panties.  Lycra thongs hung alongside panties the size of Kalea’s head.  Green panties, blue panties, white panties, yellow panties, red panties, black panties, purple panties, striped panties, sparkly panties and all sorts of cartoon characters on panties hung on the walls.

The end of the hallway was a door.  A locked box with a narrow slit sat beside it.  Written in black paint were the following words.

“No panties past this point.”

Kalea tried the door.  It wouldn’t open.  She went back to the door she came through.  It opened easily.

She had a choice.  Was she really going to give up her panties to this carnival haunted house?  Would her panties add to the ones already nailed to the walls?  Just how curious was she about the next part?

Kalea was very curious.  She was also horny as fuck.  She kicked off her shoes and pulled down her pants.  When her fingers grabbed the waistband of her black panties, she paused.  Were people watching her at this very moment?

She kind of hoped so.  Kalea pulled the panties down slowly.  The panties slid over her round ass, down her legs and off her feet.  Holding onto the panties with one hand, she pulled her pants and shoes back on.

The black panties fit into the narrow slot of the box.  The door clicked open.  Kalea continued.

A mirror dominated the far wall.  A bench was set up in the center of the room.  The mask of a cat sat beside it.  The Executioner stood silently by in his hood.  His condom covered cock throbbed with menace.

“Oh shit,” Kalea said.  This was it.  Every step in the House of Tremors had led to here.  She should of have seen it coming.

Another door led out.  It was marked ‘Exit’.  She could leave right now.  It was her choice.

Kalea smiled.  She had made her choice quite a while ago.  She just didn’t know it yet.

She peeled off her clothes.  This time she did take off her bra.  Naked, she reached for the mask and slid it on.  The rubber covered her face completely.  She could smell the heat and sweat of all the women who had been here before.

Kalea bent over the bench.  The Executioner stood behind her.  She spread her legs and lifted her ass in the air.

The Executioner entered her.  His massive unbelievable cock slid right into her very ready pussy.  He filled her completely and Kalea had never felt so fully penetrated.

Kalea settled into the bench as the Executioner fucked her.  He was starting slow and Kalea was enjoying every second.

She thought about the Vampire who knew just where to bite her neck.

She thought about her panties decorating the wall.

She thought about some stranger standing on the other side of the mirror, watching her be fucked.

She thought about Frankenstein’s cock in her hand.

She thought about the countless hands that groped her in the narrow hallway.

The Executioner fucked her faster.  Kalea grunted loudly.  It was relentless.  She was ready for it. 

Kalea moaned.  She remembered that people might be listening and she moaned louder.  She thought of people watching and she arched her back and slammed back against the Executioner. 

She hoped the whole haunted house was watching.  She wanted Frankenstein to be jacking his cock.  She wanted the Vampire to hear her cries.  She wanted the wall of hands to be stroking themselves while watching her.  She wanted to fuck them all.

Kalea remembered Sara.  Her friend must have done this.  Sara must have been fucked right here on this bench wearing this same mask.

“Fuck!” Kalea yelled as she came.  The orgasm rippled through her body.  She felt her toes curl and her breasts shake as she climaxed. 

“Enough,” she said a moment later. 

The Executioner pulled out.  His glistening cock was smeared with her juices.  It was still rock hard.

Kalea slid off the bench and put on her clothes.  The Executioner watched silently as she got dressed.  He watched as she stumbled to the exit.  Only then did he say something.

“Be sure to come back next year.” 

~~~

“Mmm, I don’t know about you but I am certainly in the mood to go into a strange place and follow scandalous suggestions.”

“I must admit that even my decapitated form has someone formed an erection.”

“Who knows Burny? You might just get lucky tonight, if a Flaming Skull on a Stick could actually get any.”

“I still have a mouth and that is all most women need.”

“We’ll see about that later, Burny.  As for you mortals, our time together is at an end.  Your month of free stories from me is an end.  You will now return back to your mundane existence free of sexy slashers, possessing perverts and trembling haunted houses.  You poor bastards.

“On the other hand, if you make a wish tonight while playing with yourself, I just might appear.  I might offer you more stories or perhaps, I will offer to let you star in your own perverse tale of the supernatural.  The price will be steep but the reward will be very worth it.”

“I’ll catch your souls, later.”

Fiction: Jenny Two-Bags

“Greetings mortals!  It is me, Suckubeth, that wicked whore who always gives you more! With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick Companion, Burny!”
“Flee for your souls, mortals!  Flee now before you become a mouthslave for a thousand demons!”

“Hush, Burny.  Some people pay good money for that." 

"Answer me this, readers.  You have heard of Jason, Michael and Freddy, but have you ever heard of the most frightening slasher killer of them all?  Have you heard the story of a killer so awful, so terrible and so sexy that the police keep denying that she exists?  Have you heard the story of Jenny Two-Bags?”

“By all that is unholy and sweaty, not that story, Suckubeth!  It has gruesome deaths!  It has merciless executions!  It is too intense for people who read sex blogs!”

“Don’t be a scrotum, Burny.  People need to know of this story.  They need to beware of what lurks at fraternity parties on Halloween.”

“Read on, mortals.” 
  


~~~

Jenny awoke with a start.  A nearby rabbit ran away from her.  The birds of the woods hushed and watched her.

She put hand went to her breast.  There was no wound.  She clearly remembered an axe hitting her in the chest but her tit was whole and fine.

No, she had been set on fire.  Gasoline had been poured on her and she had stumbled into the woods to die. 

The smoothness of her breast said otherwise.  She had not been burned.

No, it was electricity.  She had been pushed into a pool and a stereo had been thrown in.  She remembered shaking and convulsing as millions of volts went through her.

Jenny looked down at her body.  The moonlight was dim but she could see her body.  She was fine.  Her legs were long and lovely.  Her tits were full and perky.  Her hands were as graceful as ever.  She was okay.

The wind blew and Jenny felt the cold caress against her face.  Panic rose within her.  She didn’t have her mask on!  Anyone could see how ugly she was!  They could see her buck teeth, bug eyes and the damn hair that always grew on her lip!  She was ugly, so damn ugly and she didn’t have her mask on!

She ducked her head down and let her long brown hair fall in front of her face.  It was a trick that she had learned ages ago and never forgot.  With her face covered, she could search more carefully.  She could search for her real mask.

The mask was beside her hand.  She sobbed with relief when she saw it.  The red mask showed a woman devil.  The cupid mouth was puckered for a kiss.  The eyes were sultry and feminine.  The mask was beautiful in ways that Jenny could never be.

There used to be a costume that went with the mask.  It was mostly red hose and a tight bra.  It was sexy.  Jenny had lost her virginity thanks to that costume. 

She also suffered the worse humiliation of her existence.  She remembered the laughter.  She remembered the tears.  She remembered running out of the frat house while everyone made fun of her.

“Two-Bag Jenny,” they called her.  The girl so ugly that if you fucked her, you had to make her wear two bags on her head.

She stood up.  She knew where was now.  This was where she had slit her wrists.  She had died here.

That was when the woman showed up.  The black woman had cruel eyes and a leering smile but she was so very kind.  She said that she would let her die, or she would give Jenny the chance to teach some assholes a lesson.  All Jenny had to do was give up her life.  All Jenny01. had to do was put on a mask and become a legend.   

Jenny looked down at the mask.  She knew that if she dropped it to the ground right now, she would die with it.   She had died so many times that maybe it was time to stay dead.

Then she remembered the laughter.  It was the mocking sounds of drunk boys.  She remembered the smug look of pretty girls who were glad they were not Jenny.  She could almost feel the seed spilling from between her thighs as she ran and cried.

Jenny put the mask on.  New strength rippled through her body.  The sounds of the forest faded and she heard new sounds.  There was a party going on.  Boys were lying to get in girls’ pants.  Girls were gossiping about other girls.  People were getting drunk and getting laid.

She walked through the forest.  Animals got the fuck out of her way. 

A mile later, she found the house with the party.  It was a fraternity house.  Of course it was. 

Two guys were outside in the back yard.  They were smoking and drinking by a grill.  The smell of meat drifted through the air but Jenny wasn’t hungry.  She never ate anymore.

She walked closer to the men.

“Holy shit, that chick is naked!” the first guy said.  He was wearing shorts and a white tanktop.  He had a baseball cap on that said ‘Redneck’.

“Fuck yeah!” the second guy said.  He was wearing jeans and had a shirt that looked like a fake tuxedo.  He was poking the charcoal with a metal rod. 

Jenny walked closer to them. 

“Oh wait, I know who she is supposed to be!” the Redneck said.  “She’s that chick that killed all those guys in the 50’s!  She’s Jenny Two-Bags!”

Jenny’s body twitched.

“That wasn’t the 50’s, dumbass!” Fake Tuxedo said.  “Jenny Two-Bags killed the Triple Sigma house in the 80’s!  I remember my brother telling me about it.”

“Who gives a fuck when it happened?” the Redneck said.  “We got a hot shorty here!  Hey baby, you want a beer?  Or maybe you want a little threesome?  Don’t worry baby, you can leave your mask on.  Your body is rocking hot no matter what you look like.”

Jenny took the beer.  She remembered beer.  She brought it to her lips but it tapped against the mask.  She felt a flush of embarrassment at her stupid mistake.

The boys laughed.  Her embarrassment turned to something darker.

She threw the beer in the face of the Redneck.  He swore and stumbled back.  A kick to the nuts and he doubled over. 

Fake Tuxedo laughed at his friend.  Jenny grabbed the charcoal stirrer from him and grabbed his nuts with her other hand.  His cock was hard and easy to find through his jeans.  He froze in pain as her fingers crushed his balls. 

Jenny stabbed him in the throat.  The metal rod went through him like the cock that went through her virginity; fast and brutal. 

She released Fake Tuxedo and turned to Redneck.  The asshole was still wiping his eyes with his shirt.  His friend was gurgling to death on the ground and he didn’t even know it.

“What is wrong with you, bitch?” Redneck said.

Jenny didn’t answer him.  She didn’t speak much anymore.  There was little point in talking to the dead anyway.

She grabbed both sides of his head.  Redneck tried to push her away but he got distracted by her breasts.  He grabbed her tits and squeezed.  Jenny let him feel her for a moment.  It was nice to be desired.

The moment was over.  Jenny broke his neck with a savage twist of her hands.  Redneck continued to squeeze her tits before the rest of his body died with him.

Jenny stripped him.  She took his shirt and pulled it on.  It was a little too big but the lack of sleeves would give her mobility.  She pulled on his shorts and was surprised to see that they fit.  When did boys get as skinny as girls?  She didn’t have any underwear but that was okay.  She liked the feeling of the denim against her sex.  It made her feel alive.

She entered the frat house through the back door.  The hallway was crowded with people drinking from plastic cups.  Loud music shook the house.  The smell of alcohol and sweat was overwhelming. 

Jenny looked at the crowd of drunk and horny college students.  It was hard to believe that she was once one of them.  In those days, she wanted nothing more than to be fucked.  Hell, she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend.  She just wanted something between her legs.  If someone had just fucked her and not laughed at her, no one would have had to die. 

There were too many to kill here.  As soon as she killed the first one, the rest would flee.  That was unacceptable.  As many people as possible needed to die.

She needed to go upstairs.  Jenny pushed her way through the crowd.  Someone offered her a beer and she ignored it.  Someone asked her to dance and she shook her head.  She’ll dance on their graves later.

Someone grabbed her ass.  It was a sloppy hard squeeze.  Jenny froze and looked behind her.  It was a man dressed pirate.

“I want to eat your booty!” he yelled. 

Jenny grabbed his hand and pulled him to the stairs.  The pirate raised his plastic sword and cheered.  Jenny wished it was a real sword.  Knives made things quicker.

Upstairs was a long row of bedroom doors.  Jenny opened one and found a couple fucking on the bed.

“Get the fuck out!” the man said.  He never stopping fucking as he yelled.

Jenny gave him the finger and dragged the pirate behind her.  The fucking man shrugged and kept fucking.  His woman never stopped moaning.

“I am going to eat the shit out of you,” the pirate said.

Jenny sat down on a bean bag chair.  The pirate fell clumsily on top of her.  His hands were on her hips.  His mouth was on her dirty shirt as he nibbled on the breasts underneath.  She felt his erection pressing through his pants and against her thigh.

There was so much lust for her body.  The pirate buried his head in her tits.  His hands went to her ass and wouldn’t let go.  They were still clothed but he was already humping her.  He wanted her bad.

Jenny enjoyed the attention.  Her pussy was wet and she wanted him inside her.  She wanted his hot seed to fill her body.  When he was fondling her body, she could believe that she was beautiful.

“Take off the mask and give me a kiss,” he whispered.

The illusion was over.  She shook her head and firmly pushed his shoulders down.  The grinning pirate kissed his way down her body.  He nuzzled against her smooth belly.  He kissed her hips and pressed his face against her crotch.  He kissed down to her thighs and gave her a tiny bite.

Jenny closed her thighs.  The pirate’s eyes bulged as an impossible vice closed around his throat.  He tried to scream but there was no air.  He pawed at her but her thighs were immovable.

Jenny reached into her shorts.  She stroked her wet pussy as he struggled.  She climaxed right as his body shook with death.

She watched the fucking couple with the pirate still trapped between her thighs.  The bed was shaking.  The man was yelling about how tight the woman was.  The music from downstairs was loud enough to shake the walls. 
 
Jenny opened her thighs and the dead pirate fell to the ground.  The couple didn’t notice.  She stood up and picked up a broom.  She tested how solid it was.  It would do.

The woman started to scream.  Jenny was worried that the woman was screaming with fear but no, it was with orgasm.

Jenny came to the bed.  The man noticed her.

“Like to watch, do you?” he asked.  The knowing sneer on his face reminded Jenny of so many men over the years.

Jenny drove the broom down into their bodies.  She had gotten good over the years.  She speared both their hearts with one thrust.  The wood splintered but the sheer force her thrust sent the broom through.

One time she had killed a couple with a spear right through the both of them.  Another time she had used a knife.  A third time she had used some sort of flag pole.  It was important to stab them together.  There was something special about penetrating a couple in the act of penetration.  It was ironic.  It made for a better story.

Jenny stared at the couple.  That was what it was all about, wasn’t it?  The bodies told a story to the living.  People would piece together what would happen and try to make sense of it.  There was a moral to the massacre.  They would know that this is what happens when you make fun of an ugly girl.  This was the story of Jenny Two-Bags.

It was time to really get to work.  She searched the room.  It wasn’t long before she found a knife.  Boys always kept a knife in their bedroom.  It made them feel tough. 

Jenny went into the hallway and into the next bedroom.  There she found another fucking couple.  She slit the throat of the woman on top and stabbed the man underneath.  She found a bat and left the knife behind.

In the next bedroom was another fucking couple.  The man tried to use the girl as a shield.  Jenny hit them both with equal amounts of hate.  In this room she found a bigger knife.

In the next bedroom found two naked men asleep in each other’s arms.  That was new.  She left them alone.  They weren’t a part of her story.

In the next bedroom she found two men sharing a girl.  This was more familiar to Jenny.  She threw a knife at one man and hit the other with the bat.

The girl tried to run.  Jenny grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground.  The girl pushed at her but her punches were as weak as a boy.

“Let me go you psycho bitch!” the girl yelled.

Jenny remembered.  There had been girls at that Halloween party so long ago.  They had laughed at her.  Their words were meaner than the boys.  Jenny could remember some of their names.  Mary.  Sarah.  Rebecca.

Jenny dropped the woman to the slammed the woman into the ground.  She put her foot on the woman’s throat and held it there while she kicked.  The woman died under Jenny’s heel and it felt right.

She went back in to the hallway.  Blood had splattered her a few times but no in the hall gave her a second look.  It was Halloween. 

A man came up the stairs.  Jenny felt her heart skip a beat.  He wasn’t handsome.  He wasn’t drunk.  He looked sweet.  He looked nice.  He looked like someone that might be good to her

Jenny dropped the knife and bat.  She walked over to him and reached out for his hand.  She wanted to say something smart and seductive but words were so hard to say these days. 

She didn’t need to say anything.  The guy looked her over.  He saw her beautiful breasts within the tight shirt.  He saw the short shorts.  He saw the cute devil girl mask.  He saw her lovely brown hair. 

He took Jenny’s hand.  “Hey, I haven’t seen you.  What’s your name?” 

She couldn’t answer. 

“My name is Martin,” he said.  “I’m a psych major.  How about you?”

She didn’t answer but she waved her hand at the bedrooms.

“It is loud out here,” Martin said over the noise of the party.  “Let’s go to my room.  Hopefully Greg isn’t fucking anyone there.”

They went to Martin’s bedroom.  Greg wasn’t here.  Jenny was relieved that it was one of the bedrooms that she hadn’t killed anyone yet.

“Need anything?” Martin said.  “I know we got beer downstairs but I’ve got water or soda if you want to stay sober.”

Jenny grabbed his hand and placed it on her breast.  He blushed but he also squeezed.  Jenny moaned as his thumb traced over her hard nipple.

“Oh man,” Martin said.  “Look, you’re hot but I don’t know you.  I have never fucked a stranger before.”

Jenny unzipped his pants.  His hard cock pressed against her hand.  He moaned and kissed Jenny’s neck.  Jenny shuddered.

“Fuck me,” she managed to say.  It came out as quiet as a whisper and as soft as a fallen leaf.

“Yes,” Martin moaned.  He bit down gently on her neck.

Jenny pushed him onto his bed.  She tugged his pants off of him.  Sharp nails tore his underwear apart.  Martin giggled at the sudden display of strength.

“Holy shit,” he giggled. 

Jenny pulled off her pants.  She looked with embarrassment at the thick bush of her pubic hair.  She knew that women trimmed their hair now.  Sometimes they didn’t have any hair at all.

“Oh God you are beautiful,” Martin moaned.

Jenny’s embarrassment melted.  She pulled the tank top off her body and exposed her breasts.  Martin’s jaw dropped in worship.

Jenny climbed on top of him.  She straddled him, guiding his hard cock up into her. 

There was a calming bliss.  Being filled quieted the rage.  Being entered silenced the anger. 

Slowly she impaled herself until he was completely inside her. 

“Son of a bitch,” Martin groaned.  He reached for her breasts and squeezed. 

Jenny was a woman again.  Groped and filled, she fucked Martin.  She rode the college frat boy with a passion that was only unleashed once a year.  Her hips were like a wild animal’s.

The bed shook from the intensity of their fucking.  The headboard slammed against the wall.  The music from downstairs was still too loud but it wasn’t loud enough to down out their grunts and moans. 

“Holy shit,” Martin groaned.  His fingers squeezed tighter around her breasts.  Usually when men hurt her breasts; they were trying to get away. It was a delicious kind of pain when they grabbed them to keep her closer.

It didn’t take long.  Martin climaxed first.  She felt his hot seed releasing into her body.  He looked up at her with an expression of worship and wonder. 

Jenny’s reaction was immediate.  Her sex squeezed and pleasure exploded within her.  She felt every inch of where their bodies met.  She felt fulfilled and complete with his cock inside her.  She felt alive and she never wanted the moment to end.

She let out a scream of pleasure.

The mask fell from her face.  It landed on Martin’s chest.  He looked up at her and the blood drained from his face.  She felt his cock wilt inside her and leave her sex.

“Jesus mother-fucking Christ!” Martin yelled. 

Rage burned within her.  Fury wiped out the bliss she felt from the orgasm.  She snarled and reached for his throat.

Martin tossed her off his body with surprising strength.  It wasn’t disgust that powered him, it was pure terror.  Jenny was thrown from the bed and she landed hard on the floor. 

Jenny started to rise.  She was going to kill him.  It was going to be a slow death.  Martin wo0uld be begging for death when she was done with him.

That was when she saw the full length mirror in front of her.  The face that stared back at her was different.  It was still ugly, but now it bore scars.  The nose had been burned.  Her eyes bulged from being electrocuted.  Knife, axe and chainsaw marks marred her cheeks and forehead.  The lips had a bloated quality from being drowned.

She was uglier than ever.

Jenny grabbed the mask on the bed and put it on.  She didn’t bother with her clothes.  The music stopped and screams echoed through the frat house.  More people screamed and this time it was coming from much closer.  People had found her kills.

She tore a bed post off to use as a club.  The door burst open and some incredibly brave and stupid frat boy came through the door.  He was dressed as a boxer to show off his muscles.  He carried a long knife that looked like it came from some science fiction franchise.

“It’s fucking Jenny Two-bags!” he yelled.  He was actually grinning.  “I am going to fuck you up, bitch!”

Jenny swung the bedpost.  The frat boy’s head went into the wall and his body went limb.  Jenny picked up his knife.  It was sharp.  She stepped over him and walked into the hallway.

Martin was at the top of the stairs.  He was still naked from the waist down.  A crowd of curious frat boys stood between her and Martin.  All of the boys had weapons ranging from baseball bats to knives. 

“She killed our brothers!” one of them yelled.  They rushed her.

Jenny stabbed one and backhanded another’s head off.  She slit the throat of a third and punched through the gut of a fourth.  She tore a knife from a fifth, stabbed him with it, and then used both knives to stab a sixth.  It took about ten seconds.

More boys came at her.  Martin didn’t.  He turned and ran down the stairs.

Jenny growled.  Martin was getting away and these shitheads were in her way.  All men were alike but Martin had fucked her and rejected her.  He had to die.  He had to die tonight and these assholes would not stop her.

The knives flashed and blood sprayed.    She had killed so many over the years that she was quite good at it.  Blood sprayed on her naked body.  Dying hands grabbed at her ankles as she walked by them.   Swinging tits bounced as she cut her way through flesh and bone.  Jenny was a butcher among sheep.

The party was over and there downstairs was empty.  A drunk frat boy was passed out on the couch.  Jenny slit his throat without ever breaking her stride.  It was a gratuitous murder but to her it was second nature.  He forfeited his life the night he partied at a frat house.

Jenny heard a sound behind her.  A keg fell over and Martin ran to the kitchen.  His cock, still wet from their fucking, dangled between his legs.

She ran after him.  She experienced a strange sense of repetition.  She had chased other boys.  They had fucked her and managed to get away.  Jenny remembered chasing them and the frustration of being just a few steps behind them. 

Jenny burst through the kitchen door to see Martin’s bare ass run into the dining room.  She followed him into the dining room and tripped over a chair that he threw at her.  She chased him into the hallway and he slipped on some spilt beer.  She smiled behind her mask as the distance between them shrank.

She swung her knife as he was getting up.  A thin red line appeared on his back but it was just a glancing slice.  Martin screamed but he kept running.  Jenny missed with her second swing.

He ran down the hall.  Jenny threw a knife in frustration.  It went into the wall beside Martin.  He ducked back into the main living area.

Tears sprang to Jenny’s eyes.  He was going to get away.  She just knew it.  Just like the black boy she fucked once.  Just like the cute nerd she fucked once.  Just like the redhead boy she fucked once.  One always got away.  It was unfair!

Jenny ran faster.  She wouldn’t let this one get away.  She ran into the living room and saw the open front door.  A smile came to her lips behind the mask.  In open ground, no one could outrun Jenny Two-Bags.

She ran outside.  Bright headlights blinded her.  She held up a hand to block the light.

“DROP THE KNIFE AND GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!”

Jenny growled.  The fucking police were here!  Over the years they had come faster and faster.  Jenny could remember a time when she could murder an entire frat house before even one police officer would show up.  Now it looked like there were dozens of them.  They had her surrounded and they all had their guns drawn.

Martin was there.  He was hiding behind a police man.  Someone had put a coat over him.  Her lover was here and he was going to live. 

“Nooo!” Jenny screamed.  She ran towards them.  

Bullets slammed into her body.  Metal tore through her beautiful breasts.  Pain erupted in her slender thighs.  Lancing metal filled her body with the cruelty of frat boy pricks.

A bullet hit her in the face.  Her head spun around and the mask went flying.  Jenny saw that the mask was unharmed by the bullet.  It would endure when Jenny’s body would not.

She fell backwards.  Her body was a mass of pain.  She didn’t care.  Jenny was too angry.  Some of the frat boys had lived.  She didn’t get to kill them all.  The one she had fucked had lived.  Rage gripped her heart until it stopped beating.

Years passed by.

People whispered stories of Jenny Two-Bags.  No one really believed them.  Those who did believe thought that the multiple murders were the work of a copycat killer. 

College kids continued to behave badly.

One night, Jenny awoke with a start.  The sounds of the woods became quiet.  She put her hand to her chest expecting bullet wounds.  Her breast was perfect and pert.

She reached around for her mask.  It was right beside her.

Jenny Two-Bags put it on . . .

~~~

“That story always brings a tear to my eye and a clench to my cunt.  It truly is a Halloween miracle.”

“Who was that woman who gave Jenny the power to be a legend?”

“Who do you think it was?  It was me of course!  What is the point of being a demon if you can’t play Demonic Godmother to sad girls?”

“Your soul is truly a black pit of despair.”

“Thank you, Burny.  For that little flattery, I might shave a day off your eon long sentence of damnation.”

“As for you readers, we have one more story left this Halloween!  I have saved the best for last so join us next week!  I’ll catch your souls, later.”