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New Eden 26

Skyler

Zoe

Zoe was different. Different for me anyway. I was used to dating women who were conservative. Women who knitted, talked about having children, and wanted to get married. This wasn't Zoe. I'm not sure why I asked her out. It was a moment of insanity, I guess. Zoe liked to talk. A lot. We'd been out to dinner once. It went well enough. Mostly, I listened to Zoe talk. At the end of the evening, we kissed briefly. Then she had shocked me by whispering in my ear, "Maybe if you ask me out again, I'll give this some attention," while she gently patted my cock through my pants. Then she just turned and left. No one had ever done anything remotely like that to me before. Zoe worked at the same company as I did. She was an assistant to a Vice President. I was an engineer who happened to work on the same floor. We saw each other around in the halls and in the cafeteria. Zoe, being the outgoing person she is, always said hello. She was friendly with everybody. We were having a drink on a Friday evening at a cantina across the street from the huge office building we worked in. Many people from work were there doing the same. Zoe and I had a little corner table. She was talking, as usual. I guessed it was the alcohol; she started talking about sex. This surprised me. But, then again, she was always surprising me. "Erik, how old were you when you first had sex?" Zoe asked me. "I was twenty. I was in college. What about you?" "Fourteen. How many girlfriends have you had?" She asked while signaling to the waitress to bring more drinks. The waitress nodded to her. "Well, just two. One in high school and then one when I was in college for a couple years. She left me for some frat guy." "No one since? Do you date a lot then? One night stands?" Jesus, she asked a lot of questions. I almost got a bit defensive but caught myself. "No. No one since. I date now and again. I've never had a one-night stand. I'm an engineer, after all." "Sounds dull." "Zoe, why don't you tell me a bit about you? Do you date a lot?" She thought about my question for a minute, took a drink, and started talking, "Date? No, I don't date much. I've never had a long-term relationship. What I do is fuck." I stared at her for a minute. I needed another drink. I signaled the waitress again. "Er, you fuck?" I asked. "Yes. A lot. I like to fuck." "Is that why you're with me?" I raised an eyebrow. "Well, see. I haven't decided," she smiled. "Who do you usually, um, get together with? People you meet in bars?" "Who do I fuck? All kinds of people: People I meet in bars, people who live near me, people from work. Black, white, old, young. I don't discriminate. I like to fuck as much as I like to talk." I took a moment to process it while I sipped my new drink. She seemed to read what was on my mind. "Yes, I fuck people you know at work. Look around this bar. I've fucked just about all the men here and a couple of the women. Many of them more than once. Some of them at the same time. I've fucked them at home, at work, in cars, hotels, in the bathroom and out in the alley behind this restaurant. They fucked my pussy, my mouth and my ass." Then she whispered for effect, "I love it when a guy cums in my ass." "Jesus. I think you're out of my league," I said honestly. "That's what I like about you, Erik. You're different." "Thank you. I think." We had one more drink, and I needed to go. I kissed her cheek and left. I didn't sleep well that night. I jerked off two times thinking of people fucking Zoe. Then again, it didn't sound like people fucked her. It sounded like she was the one doing the fucking. The next morning, I was in my office and I saw Zoe walk by my door. Five seconds later, she came back and walked in. "Good morning," She said. "Did I scare you last night?" "Well, a little. But not completely." "Good," she gave me a big smile. "I don't think I'm done with you yet." I smiled, "Do you have a lot to do today?" "I'm thinking of, um, taking the new Office Manager out for a spin for lunch." Carl, a temp helping in shipping, zipped by my door as we were standing there chatting about who she was going to sleep with next. She read my mind again. "Yeah, I fucked him. He was pretty good. Big dick. Nice ass. I like the taste of his cum." I just stared at her. I think she enjoyed shocking me. Next, her boss, the VP, walked by. She just jumped in, "I've fucked Frank many times. At least once a week. I own his ass." "Own it?" I asked. "Oh yeah. Want to see?" Before I could answer, she'd left the room. I couldn't imagine what she meant by owning his ass. After 5 minutes or so had passed and she hadn't returned yet, I assumed she wasn't coming back for a while. So I worked for a bit. After about 30 minutes, I looked up to see Zoe and her boss, Frank, standing in front of me. Frank looked nervous. He was beet red, clearly embarrassed. Zoe closed my door. It was an odd moment. I was sitting behind my desk, my cock getting hard at this strange situation. Zoe looked at me with a sly smile, hiked up her skirt to reveal a very sheer pink thong. She pulled them down and off. She handed the thong to Frank and simply said, "Jerk off into them." He stared at her for a minute and then sighed. He unzipped his pants and pulled out a relatively small cock. It was hard. He held the underwear in one hand and stroked his cock with the other. While he jacked off, he just stared at Zoe's legs. Zoe didn't do anything. She just waited. After a few minutes, Frank came into the panties with a grunt. He wiped himself off with them, turned to look at Zoe as if he was waiting for something. "Yes, go ahead," she said. Unbelievably, Frank began to lick his cum from the panties. Zoe smiled again. "Good boy." While Frank was licking, Zoe got on the phone. The only thing she said was "Come to Erik's office," and hung up. As Frank was putting his cock back into his pants, there was a soft knock on the door. Zoe opened the door, and Carl, the temp, came in. He looked at Zoe, then me, and then Frank. He noticed the panties in Frank's hand. "What's going on?" he asked. "Torturing Frank," Zoe said. "I want you to fuck me. Now." Carl shrugged and took his pants off. He did have a big cock. I guessed it was a good 8 inches long and pretty thick. Bigger than me. Definitely bigger than Frank. Zoe came over to Carl and took his cock in her hands. She stroked it a few times. She got down on her knees and took it in her mouth. She bobbed her head back and forth a few times. Each time it came out, I could see her shiny saliva on his cock. After a minute, she stopped, came over to my desk and sat on it. "Erik, come around the desk so you can watch." I did as I was told and stood next to Frank. She pulled her skirt up. Carl came over, rubbed his cock up and down her slit a few times. She moaned, "Fuck me, Carl." He slid in easily. "Yes, that's it. Fuck me." Carl started to fuck her hard and fast. "That's the way I like it. God, that feels good. So much better than you, Frank," she taunted. "He actually lasts more than 30 seconds. He can make me cum. He made your wife cum the other day when she was in here, didn't she, Frank? Didn't she?" "Yes, Carl made her cum with his big cock." Frank sounded resigned to some dreadful fate when he said it. It made me wonder how Zoe came to 'own' Frank like this. Zoe came a couple times, almost screaming. I began to worry about others hearing. "Ok, Carl. Stop for a minute." Carl slowed down his thrusts and stopped. He pulled his dick out with Zoe's juices covering it. My desk was soaked with them. Zoe got down off the desk and got onto the floor on all fours. "Carl, come fuck my ass." Carl smiled and got behind her. He spit into his hand and lubed his dick up some more. Carefully, he pushed the head of his cock into Zoe's ass. Once it had popped through, he started to thrust slowly. "That's it, baby, fuck my ass. Fill it with cum. Come on, fuck me hard. I can take it." Carl fucked for all he was worth, slamming into Zoe's asshole with his big cock. Frank and I just stood there and stared. "Fuck me. Fuck my asshole. Pump your cum into me, baby. Come on," Zoe yelled. Carl grunted and said that he was cumming. "Yes. Ahhh, give me that cum." Carl slowed down and caught his breath. He carefully pulled his half-hard cock out of Zoe's ass. "God, that was good. Thanks, Zoe. Now I'm a mess though," Carl said. "No problem," Zoe smiled. "Frank, on your knees. Clean Carl's prick for him." Carl and I just stared as Frank complied. He took Carl's cock in his mouth and cleaned all the cum and pussy juice off. "Can you taste my shit, Frank? I bet you can.When Frank was done, Carl, zipped up, said thanks again and left. Frank made a move for the door too. "Not so fast, boss," Zoe, who was still on her hands and knees on the floor, said. "Get your ass over here. Lick Carl's cum out of my ass and off my pussy." Frank did as he was asked. He got behind Zoe and licked all the cum off her ass and pussy. He did his best to stick his tongue into her asshole and get more of the cum out. He seemed to enjoy this. Frank finished, and Zoe got up. "Well, back to work," she said. Frank opened the door, and my assistant looked in. Zoe said to Frank, "You've got a cum stain on your pants, Frank." My assistant smirked knowingly. Zoe was definitely out of my league.

Authors/Skyler_Swanson/Zoe.txt

Cobalt Jade

The Tale of Lassok and Zairbhreena

Zairbhreena stared with blank golden eyes over the mountainous vistas of her temple home. Offerings were left before her daily: flowers, plates of rich food, the occasional slaughtered animal; incense covered up the worst of the smells. Her worshippers swooned in excitement when a flicker of sunlight seemed to make her change expression. Portents were read from the shine of her eyes; the reputations of prophets rose and fell on the imaginary quirks of her lips. She could do nothing to answer their prayers, of course. Neither could any deity answer hers. Where was the prince? Why hadn't he come to her rescue? The thought tortured her night and day. Ennui set in as weeks passed, then months. Gradually she realized she might remain here for centuries, a mute golden statue in golden bondage. The finality of it lulled her into a hopeless torpor. After a few years, she stopped thinking altogether. But the candles still burned, the monks chanted, ignorant of the sleeping girl in the coffin of gold. As for the prince, his past remained a naggingly blank slate. At first Abrimel tried to jog his memory, but after the umpteenth repetition of the tale of the stony princess the prince told him to stop. He told Abrimel that if he wanted a wife he would marry a real girl, not a statue, however luscious and pleasing. After all, he was no longer a wandering stranger but a God-king, and as such he had a city to order. He didn't have time for fairy tales. So Abrimel desisted. Meanwhile, wealth from the dragon's cave was revitalizing the city. Craftsmen, stonemasons, and carpenters flocked to the area to share in the rebuilding. Rivers were dammed, fields terraced; trade caravans began to call. In all of these projects the prince worked very hard. Indeed, a year had passed before the prince noticed he didn't even have a crown, so Abrimel was sent to the city's marketplace to find a suitable goldsmith and jeweler. He returned with good news. "Two skilled artisans, your Majesty," he said. "May I introduce Mitric Nusraar, who forged ninety-nine golden collars for the concubines of Sultan Faruq al-Nasir." The pudgy yet dignified man on Abrimel's right smiled and bowed. By his hands, which were nimble yet scarred at their tips, the prince knew he was a skilled goldsmith. Abrimel then indicated a slim quiet woman in dark blue robes at his left, who was veiled completely but for her eyes. "And this fair flower is Lady Raphez, a gem cutter and trader from the west." And Jaseloris Raphez, the gem merchant's daughter from Carsimbad, lifted her smoky blue veil and smiled at the prince. She knew it was Prince Lassok; it could be no other. She had known since coming to the city two weeks before after hearing the strange story of the dragon. Gossip said the new God-king, though just, was bewitched, for he never spoke of his past. She had confirmed her suspicions of amnesia by bedding the innocent Abrimel and milking him--in more ways than one--for the true story, for she had lost none of her carnal skills on the long road to Lakthira. The prince brightened when he saw her face and leaned forward from his throne in a captivated way. As Jaseloris suspected, he did not know her. Even better, there was no Zairbhreena around to distract him. She intended to take full advantage of her rival's absence and displayed herself accordingly. The prince noted with appreciation the firm female curves the robes--which marked her a desert woman still, for women in the mountains did not go veiled--did not fully conceal. It seemed to him that he knew her, and she him; yet he remembered nothing. He knew the monks spoke of past lives, so that must be the reason for the nagging familiarity. "Let us see your wares, Lady Raphez." Jaseloris opened her tray, revealing a galaxy of jewels for his inspection. "The finest, your Majesty," she said, her dark eyes beckoning. "Come closer to see them. Pearls from the Bitter Sea, rubies pried from the cliffs of the Great Rift, a yellow diamond from Thorzaan." The prince stepped down from the throne. As a blank slate he was practically a virgin, and very vulnerable to the experienced. The electricity that had been sparked between them flashed again. Jaseloris smoldered as he stroked the dark, glistening rubies, imagining them her lips. When he fondled the pearls, she felt her nipples rolling between his fingers; and when he touched the yellow diamond, she gave a small gasp of pleasure, a release. "Your Majesty," she said in a silky voice, "these gems will shine more brightly in a darkened room, under candlelight." The prince concurred. They went away together. Abrimel was rueful, but not really surprised, when they reappeared cooing arm-in-arm the next morning. The prince had been celibate for the past year; it was about time he found a woman, stony princess or no stony princess. In the workshops of the palace the royal crown took form. Each knock of the hammer, each tiny gem, formed another artifact in a second place, a heavy length of gold chain that would hold the aurified Zairbhreena in stasis forever, though she did not know it. Hope had died and fossilized for her long ago. There was no question of her preventing the wedding. Even if she could have commanded her legs to move she would have collapsed of her own golden weight before she even left the altar. When the crown was finished the new God-king had his coronation, with a proud new Queen standing at his side. Jaseloris had triumphed at last, and she would make sure the prince's memories of his past life remained vague. Years passed. The city grew and became more prosperous. Ziggurats of gold brick and white marble were erected; broad-squared marketplaces, townhouses, and pleasure gardens created checkerboard vistas of luxury. Temple spires stretched like gilded fingernails to the sky, threatening to pierce the scudding clouds. The prince became known for his judiciousness and accessibility. He was a solemn man, not given to display; his dark-haired Queen was regarded as more loquacious and charming than he. She was a clever woman, crafty and sly in her business deals, yet a patroness of the arts and an able administrator of the throne's acts of charity: orphanages, public clinics, food banks for the poor. She was beautiful and dutiful; she had grace and dignity. Overall she had only one fault, and it was physical. She wore always a glove upon her left hand. Years ago, she explained, she had burned it horribly in a fire, which had scarred and then toughened it like boiled leather, and rather than nauseate others she had chosen to conceal it. Even the slightest touch to it pained her still. The injury caused not a few problems in areas like lovemaking and bathing, but in time the prince grew used to his new wife's injury. A few times when she was sleeping, though, he had inadvertently brushed against the soft-gloved hand and found what it protected heavy and hard to the touch...almost as if it was carved from stone and not flesh and blood. Jaseloris had servants to dress her and ones to help her bathe and arrange her hair, so the handicap was not as much as a liability as the prince first thought. She even had a wardrobe of gloves for it which she changed according to her costume. One day gold brocade might sheathe her useless hand; the next, a smart black velvet glovelet with a cuff of embroidered peacock feathers. The women of the city, seeking to imitate her, soon made the wearing of a single glove into a fashion fad. Abrimel never spoke of Zairbhreena again, guessing--rightly--that the prince was weary of the story and that Jaseloris wouldn't want to hear it either. In fact, she seemed to have an anathema for female sculpture. On becoming Queen she had ordered all such statues removed from the palace. Gossip said she didn't want her husband distracted. Only Jaseloris knew there was another reason. Eight years after becoming God-king the prince had everything he wanted. He was king of a realm far richer than Carsimbad and had a beautiful wife and Queen. Only one thing niggled him. It was the failure of Jaseloris to conceive a child. As it turned out, the evil wand had affected Jaseloris' female organs as well as her hand, though she did not know it. Stunned by her failure to perpetuate the royal line, she did everything she could to become pregnant. Mineral baths, the eating of strange foods, exercise and the lack of exercise; on advice from wise women she tried various athletic positions and different times and places for lovemaking. But her stone womb remained empty. The proper thing to do, of course, was for the prince to take on a concubine or two to give him an heir. But this Jaseloris took protest to. She ran screaming and crying to lock herself in her rooms, and the prince, not wanting to further upset his wife, wondered if the fault might lie with him. He submitted himself to the doctors, but they could find nothing wrong."Perhaps a visit to Palampang monastery would help," the chief physician said hopefully. "They have a statue of the sun goddess there which has miraculous powers. You are of her lineage, so she may take favor to you." The prince thought it sounded like a good idea--he didn't have that many options at that point--and went to see Jaseloris. He knocked lightly on the door with his knuckles. "Oh my wife and the light of my eyes, am I permitted to enter?" "What is it?" Jaseloris said in a voice dull with sniffling. "A solution, dear heart. If you would but receive me." Jaseloris sent her plump dark-skinned maid to let the prince in, and she received him in her rumpled silk robe (for she had wept long and hard on her luxurious quilted bed). The prince launched straightaway into his speech. "Since the learned men and physicians cannot give us a child," he said, "we have no recourse but to apply to the gods. They tell me the Golden Virgin of the Sun will listen to our prayers, but we must go to the monastery. It is three days' journey from here." Jaseloris did not hold faith in the gods; she put all her stock in herself. But these days, her body was failing her; could her wiles fail soon as well? "All right," she said, conceding out of practicality. "Am I to go as well?" "No," the prince said diplomatically, for he knew she would be only peevish there. "I alone make the journey." So the next day, with her begrudged blessings, he set out for Palampang monastery on his favorite horse, with only his closest advisors, for he was not going as a king but a penitent. Outside the city switchbacked up steep cliffs past overhangs of ice and snow, emerging from clouds like torn paper to a bowl-shaped sky bluer than hyacinth, bluer than cornflower, and their breath grew short and steamed from the mouth. For two days they climbed. Finally, on the afternoon of the third day, they sighted the monastery. It was a small, walled complex built of grim iron-gray stone, with a roofline of interlocked spires and stupas. Under the pitiless mountain sun, it seemed like a fortress. The monks welcomed them and showed them to their rooms. After settling into his cell, the prince asked to be shown to the Temple of the Virgin. The monastery had been clean but rough; the temple, however, was far older and rougher. From within came the soft sound of monks chanting at their prayers and the click of prayer beads. Incense sizzled out of brass braziers, making the prince blink and discretely pinch his nose. Then he blinked again as he beheld the Golden Virgin of the Sun herself, who stood in imperial, auric splendor behind the altar where the incense burned and flowers moldered. Entranced, he stepped closer, leaving his monk guides behind. The statue was the loveliest thing he had ever seen. She was nude, a serene young girl with heavy-lidded eyes dreaming of secrets. Her nipples were pert and erect, her proud pubic bush richly detailed with thousands of tiny, solidly compacted hairs. Indeed, she looked less sculpture than a gilded maiden standing there. But the monks had told him she was solid gold. He wondered what it would feel like to caress her, rub his hands and fingers over the fortunes of a hundred kings, absorbing the heavy, sensual richness of the yellow metal through his fingertips. The prince felt a strange taste come to the back of his mouth, a scratching sensation in his eyes. His breath became more rapid. It seemed to him this statue meant something more to him, something more important than even divine favor. He had a vague recollection of a young girl's face, the lifting of a veil, a stolen kiss. His head hurt with the effort of remembering. If only the monks would be quiet! Even more startling, he had the feeling the idol was aware of him somehow...as if intelligence lurked the opaque splendor of her eyes. Not as a goddess looking down from heaven, but as a sentient being who might step down from the altar and start to converse with him. Not knowing how else to ease his confusion, he sank down on a hard, chilly cushion and began to formulate a prayer. Dutifully, he asked that Jaseloris might have the child she wanted. But his mind kept wandering. Now he thought of dizzying carnal delights, not with his wife but with the statue herself, as her golden flesh shimmered with light... *You know me,* the statue seemed to say. *Look closely, Prince Lassok, look truly deeply, and you will understand.* The monks stopped their chanting. The prince raised his head slightly, wondering why, but then he felt it himself. The temple was shaking! It was jolting side to side like a mule on a mountain track, shaking loose crumbs of stone from the ceiling above. The monks shouted with fear, stumbling for the door as the floor rolled in sickening waves. Earthquakes were dangerous in this mountain land, as the loose stone of the peaks had a tendency to avalanche. But the prince remained rooted, his eyes locked with goddess's. Realization slowly dawned on him. First all was crepuscular murkiness, then the light of knowledge came, so rich and clear and apparent he could not remember what it felt like to be without it. *I know you,* he thought in growing excitement. *You are...you are... Zairbhreena!* At that moment the temple roof collapsed, and so did the altar, and the golden form of Zairbhreena herself. But she fell in such a way to shield the prince from the stone and tile that fell from above, so that, hours later, when the monks dug him out of the ruin, he was unhurt. Indeed, he was glowing, as if burnished all over with gold himself. The prince clasped the Golden Virgin to his breast like a lover. "The Goddess," he declared with solemn joy, "has saved me from certain death. Ready my horse and caravan. I am Prince Lassok of Carsimbad, and I am going home, truly home, to the kingdom where I was born." He looked tenderly at the statue. "And she will be my wife." Ordinarily his advisors would think he'd gone mad, but the earthquake, and his miraculous survival, truly spoke of another divine miracle. It was clear to all that the goddess, in the vessel of her idol, had saved him yet again; if he said he now wanted to marry her, well, who had the power to stop him? The prince remembered all now. And Zairbhreena, free of last from her long stupor, did as well. She could not show her joy as he did, but she glowed from inside so she seemed a piece of the sun herself. At long last she had her prince back, she would be flesh once again! Trembling with happiness, she awaited the means, molten metal seeming to seethe inside her. But the prince was not going to risk a deflowering here, to be foiled as he had been before. This time, he would make sure the princess got safely back to Carsimbad, the city they had set out from all those years ago, where a proper nuptial bed would be prepared. Running his fingers over her heavy golden curves, he could only relish what lay before him. And the princess could only relish it too, though of course she not speak. Zairbhreena was carefully packed and made ready for the journey, and the caravan set off for Lakthira to provision themselves before returning to the desert. The prince knew he was going to have to abandon his kingdom. Still, he wished its continuing prosperity, and that meant squaring things off with Jaseloris, his soon to be ex-wife. Though he was fully aware of her machinations she could not be blamed for his memory loss, and in fact she had been a good queen. To remove her from power might cast the Lakthira into chaos. A plan began to form in his mind. Jaseloris leapt up with joy when she saw him, supposing he had found some miraculous cure. But the prince slammed the chamber doors behind him and ripped the glove from her hand, exposing the stony symbol of guilt to the air at last. "I know what you've done, woman," he said. "I am Prince Lassok of Carsimbad once again." Jaseloris fell to her knees, overcome; never had she expected his memory would return. Trembling, she waited for him to summon the palace guards, so she could be beheaded or worse. "Stand up," the prince said. "You are still Queen of Lakthira. I resign my throne, for I am going back to Carsimbad. But you shall reign here in my place." Her heart racing like a cornered deer's, Jaseloris could only stammer "Why?" She had expected revenge, not a reward. "Unlike some parts of your body, my heart is not stone," he said. "There has been too much revenge in my life, too much scheming. Your hand is forever stone, and you cannot bear a child -- the kharma, I suppose, from the suffering you brought on Zairbhreena and myself. But neither was I innocent in causing *your* suffering. For that reason, you shall continue to be Queen of this city, and reign in my place." "Thank you my lord," Jaseloris whispered. And in truth, she did rule well and long, and though she could have no child, she designated the wily Abrimel to be her heir, and he ruled long and well also. But that is another tale. After that the prince left the city forever. His well-guarded caravan wound down through the passes to the foothills, then to the canyonlands, wastes, and deserts, winding its way back to the city he had once called home. How slowly they moved! But no brigand would attack them, no marauding monster or fell pack of beasts; they were too well armed for that. Every night, as he lay in his tent, the prince would caress Zairbhreena's soft curves, anticipating the way they would share their marriage bed. She would answer him with her eyes, as the air grew drier and the sands began to blow. After many weeks they crossed the dry sea, approaching Carsimbad from the east. Their route took them through the low hills where the city's reservoir lay.The prince surveyed the placid blue waters of the lake, wondering if his father was still alive. What would he say when his son came home at last, in stranger wits than even when he left? He glanced at Zairbhreena as she lay in the cart. Since he had recovered his memory, he could not bear to be more than a few feet away from her again, fearing another disaster would befall them. However, scouts had to be sent ahead to gauge the city's temperament, and the animals needed watering; so, reluctantly, he drew the caravan to a halt on the narrow cliffside road and went to confer with his men. Some say the gods are merciful; others believe we are merely their toys. Still others say they do not exist at all, for how else can men account for the randomness of the world? What else explains the unexpected triumph snatched from the jaws of defeat, or the dark irony of the last-minute reprieve that tries, but fails, to stave off the order of death? The road was old and ill-maintained. The slope was steep, the season dry. Gravel began to skitter out from the edges of the roadbed, ten feet from where Zairbhreena's cart lay, to tumble down the steep slope to the lake four hundred feet below. In the stillness of the hills, the sound was very loud. It was a clear warning, and the prince took it that way. From his position up the road, he turned to look. He cursed, and ran. But he was too late. The cliffside road collapsed in on the caravan with a hissing rush, sending bleating animals, carts, and wagons funneling downward in a brownish haze of dust. Including the statuefied Zairbhreena. The prince watched in numb, betrayed horror as the caravan free-fell down the cliff, then hit a rocky promontory that splintered it into pieces. Zairbhreena was launched from her cart like a golden missile that flew, in an impossibly long and graceful trajectory, to the center of the mountain lake. There she fell, with a distant splash, into the azure-blue waters, making a little blur of white foam that soon vanished. The ripples spread out from the point of impact for a short while, then ceased. She was gone, this time so irrevocably she had almost ceased to be. The lake was a giant blue mouth that swallowed her whole, with a gullet and stomach three times as deep as the dry brown hills above. If there were gods in the world, they were laughing cruelly at their joke.

9. Fate Kind and Cruel

Authors/Cobalt_Jade/Lassok_09.txt

sweetrapturedlight

Tamara

Zoraya was beautifully built. She stood 5'2" with voluptuous breasts and a heart-shaped ass. She was physically fit and took pride in her overall appearance. Her long reddish-brown hair and tempting light brown eyes just added to her beauty. Zoraya had a man in her life, a hockey player, who loved and adored her but was gone most of the time. This didn't bother Zoraya. Her lover was only a phone call away, and when he got home, the sex was like nothing she had ever experienced before. However, she did get lonely from time to time, but that was okay. Her lover was worth her fidelity. He knew she was bisexual, and he accepted it, telling Zoraya to have fun with the girls while he was away, but to call him and let him know the details. Zoraya would. Zoraya met Tamara at a club. The dark-haired, green-eyed beauty was statuesque. Zoraya was most impressed with Tamara from the start. The two seemed to have a lot in common, including the fact that they were both bisexual. Zoraya explained to Tamara that her lover was expected back the next day, and she wanted to surprise him in a good way. Tamara was smiling and let her thoughts be known. "Have you thought of maybe having a threesome with him?" Tamara asked. Zoraya, smiling, replied, "I have not only thought it but dreamt about it. I mean what to do and stuff, but I have this great idea." Zoraya continued discussing her idea with Tamara. "Okay, so you're alright with it?" Zoraya asked Tamara. "Oh yes, I'm okay with it and then some, sweetness. Tomorrow night then?" Tamara half replied, half asked. "Yes. Great, this will be so much fun." Zoraya was elated. Zoraya's lover arrived. He looked so wonderful. She hugged and kissed him a lot during the first hour he arrived. She noticed he was hard. "Would you like me to suck your cock?" She asked. He gave her this look with a smirk and thought, "Like I'm going to say no to those lips and that mouth." He laughed to himself. He unzipped his jeans and exposed his cock. Zoraya quickly got on her knees and went to work. She loved sucking his cock, loved the taste of his cum, and she desperately wanted to taste him. Sucking, then licking, then teasing the tip of his cock, she worked him over. Cupping his balls and then sucking on them too. He enjoyed the blowjob he was getting and placed his hand on her head, helping her with her task. She took his hardness deep within her mouth. It tickled, but she continued. She was getting wet from sucking him off. She worked faster now as she felt his cock throb in her mouth, and he was moaning, and then all too suddenly, he shot his liquid into her mouth and down her throat. Licking her lips, she looked up at him and smiled. "That was just the beginning of a great evening ahead." She got up and made a phone call. "So what did you do all the time I was on the road?" He asked. "I met a woman named Tamara, and she and I have become quite good friends," Zoraya replied. "Oh yeah? How good of friends are we talking here?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around her and nestled his face in her hair. "Mmmmmmmm, well, my love...." She didn't finish. Instead, she walked away down the hall to the bedroom. "Where are you going?" He asked, then followed. Zoraya motioned her lover over to the bed. He moved to her side. She asked him to undress, and he did that too. She then asked him to lay down, and so he did. Zoraya handcuffed her lover to the bed, making sure he was secured, and she began kissing his lips, gently nibbling on the bottom one. Zoraya worked her way down to his nipples, sucking on each one, and he moaned a little. She continued even farther down his body and kissed his right thigh, noticing that he was hard again. Zoraya gently bit his inner thigh, moving across his shaft, lightly touching him there, and she came to the inner left thigh and began kissing, sucking, and nibbling. His shaft was throbbing, and pre-cum was dripping down his hardness. Zoraya saw this and licked his shaft from the tip of his head to the bottom. She then started to suck on his balls, going further down, and she licked where he was most sensitive and grasped his shaft with a free hand and began stroking him. Suddenly, the door burst open, and in walked Tamara dressed in a corset and a garter but no panties. Tamara eyed both of them on the bed and smiled. Zoraya's lover, handcuffed and hard, smiled. Tamara sat on the bed by Zoraya and removed Zoraya's clothing. Tamara then sucked on Zoraya's breasts, in turns, while fingering her wet pussy. Zoraya's lover lay back, and Zoraya continued sucking his cock. "Zoraya, I want to see you go down on her, please, I want it," he begged her. "Show me how you please a woman, let me see you lick and suck her, please, I'm so hard for it, show me." Zoraya didn't waste any time as she laid Tamara down and sucked on her nipples and worked her clit with her finger and her thumb. Tamara was moaning. Zoraya then kissed Tamara and then moved her tongue down Tamara's body, feeling Tamara shiver beneath her. Zoraya found Tamara's mound and caressed her there with her tongue. Feeling how Tamara was reacting, Zoraya inserted a couple of fingers within Tamara's wet, wanting pussy. Tamara was moaning and arching her back, she wanted more, Zoraya thought. Zoraya looked over at her lover and decided to undo the cuffs. He was free, and she wanted him to fuck Tamara. Zoraya's lover sat up on the bed, his back resting on the headboard. Zoraya guided Tamara to where she wanted her, on his cock. Tamara, facing away from Zoraya's lover, eased onto his cock. Leaning back, he spread her legs apart and fucked her, and Zoraya was beaming as she licked Tamara's swollen clit while her lover continued fucking Tamara. Zoraya continued licking until Tamara couldn't take it anymore and came. Zoraya took her lover in her mouth and sucked him off. He exploded in her mouth. Zoraya was on all fours, and Tamara came from behind, licking Zoraya's ass then her pussy. Tamara was wearing a strap-on. She looked over at Zoraya's lover and asked, "Do you want me to fuck her good?" He answered, "Yeah, fuck my baby good." With that, Tamara inserted the dildo deep inside Zoraya. "Your pussy is so wet, it wants Tamara to fuck it. And fuck it I shall. You are so hot, scream for me," Tamara slapped Zoraya's ass. Zoraya screamed, "Fuck me hard, fuck me hard." Tamara did. Slapping Zoraya's ass, pulling her hair, fucking her wet pussy, while Zoraya's lover watched. He was getting another erection and wanted to bury deep within Zoraya. Tamara, seeing that he was getting hard, eased up and let him take over. He thrust into Zoraya with such force that she screamed and threw her head back. He pulled her hair while pumping her from behind. He had never seen her act like this, but he loved it. She was wild and horny, and he was going to fuck her until her knees buckled. He worked Zoraya's clit. He fingered her ass. He spanked her. He yanked her hair. "You like this, don't you, Zoraya?" He asked, still pumping his cock inside her. Zoraya, wet, juices flowing, dripping down her thighs, replied to her lover, "Yes, I love being fucked like this, but only by you. I am yours. I want you to fuck me hard, rough, tonight I am your untamed lover. Tame me. Make me scream." Tamara watched them, rubbing herself. Zoraya's lover saw this and loved being watched while fucking his girlfriend. It added passion and excitement. He inserted his cock into Zoraya's ass. It was tight, but he took it easy at first, listening to Zoraya moaning. "Fuck my ass, ram it hard," Zoraya screamed. He did. She met his pumps. He reached one of his hands around and rubbed her clit. It was swollen and so moist. Zoraya was so hot, so wet. He fucked her ass and was about to cum. He felt her ass tighten up as she screamed his name, and her cum squirted from her pussy. He came inside her ass. He couldn't believe she squirted. To him, it was the coolest thing. It was amazing. He reached around and held her, telling her he loved her like no other. Zoraya kissed him deeply. Then reached up and kissed Tamara. Zoraya lay on the bed, exhausted, Tamara on one side of her, and her lover on the other. They all fell asleep.

Authors/sweetrapturedlight/Tamara.txt

ExtrusionUK

Wisdom Conversion

Zara had had the Wisdom build us a rose garden. I'm not sure why, except that it had something to do with some sort of gift to Yvonne. Whatever the motive, it had appeared after a day or two, perched above a dramatic and strangely earth-like vista - the hills and lakes of an alien planet visible through a panoramic window of something that probably wasn't anything remotely like glass. I'd taken to spending a lot of time up there, not least because Zara had also specified a random breeze to add - hah! - atmosphere to the place. The scientist in me had developed a secret obsession with calculating the processing power required to generate the necessary gusts and eddies, while my human side merely belatedly recognized how much I missed the subtler pleasures of life on Earth. Hell, our accommodation here was comfortable - luxurious - beyond imagining, Earth-wise, but it was artificial - sterile - ultimately inhuman. Well, I thought, that was certainly true: The alien product of an alien mind, designed to meet mere humans' every need but alien nonetheless. I was wondering if I could get the AI to lay on some rain showers, too - maybe even a thunderstorm or two, I'd always liked a good storm - when Yvonne herself came into the 'garden'. "Hi, Xav," she said, seeing me. "Got a message from the Big W for you - seems we have a new arrival on the way, another one of yours apparently." I was about to ask why the AI hadn't just told me directly - it was hardly shy in the general run of things - but she anticipated the question with a knowing grin. "I think you've got the thing a bit paranoid around you, what with the tricks you pulled in Switzerland - that or it's actually taken Zara's request not to be disturbed up here seriously. Anyway, the woman's name is Queta Munoz - ex-student of yours, I'm told. Seems she's going to get into trouble and the Technology thinks she's worth a look, recruitment-wise." I was surprised by the name, did indeed remember the woman - not actually a student of mine but a post-doc I'd worked with, maybe would have done more with if it hadn't been for a Fatal Difficulty. But that would hardly matter here, I thought - hell, it could hardly survive the shock of being here - and it was true, she had skills. I began to run through them in my head, gathering my stuff together prior to heading to our seminar room to bring Zara and Patrice up to speed, decide what we should do next. Just as I gave Yvonne the nod that I was ready, just as she turned to leave the area, I felt it: A drop of rain, then another and another in a perfect simulation of a spring shower. Somewhere in the distance, I'm sure I heard something almost like thunder...Patrice tried again, rather more assertively. "OK, people," he said, firmly. "Sit down and shut up!" This did have an effect. Not that anyone actually sat down, but the volume of noise fell considerably until only a few angry murmurs remained. Grabbing the opportunity, he continued, asking for Professor Queta Munoz to identify herself - as if he didn't know that she was the one on her knees, praying - and for the others to stay calm. No one reacted at all this time, and P shrugged at me, saying into the feed, "OK, just because we ask for cooperation doesn't mean we need it. Professor Munoz will therefore now be taken to a reception area, the rest of you - oh, hell, you can all go into stasis while we work out what to do with you." Cutting the link, he muttered a request to the AI to 'make it so' and we went off to meet our latest potential recruit. Queta had aged, of course, since I'd last known her. If she noticed that I hadn't - or that Patrice, who'd ignored my suggestion that he might wear more than his customary pair of shorts for the occasion, now had the sort of physique not otherwise seen outside of steroid ads - she didn't comment on the fact. In fact, what she did - after a brief look of shocked recognition as I came in - was mutter away to herself, presumably praying or reciting her rosary or whatever the fuck. So we sat and stared at her for a while, Patrice seemingly waiting for me to take the lead, given that she was my 'contact', until even his apparently limitless patience finally broke. "Professor Munoz," he said, physically pulling her round so that she couldn't avoid looking at him, "I don't know what you think is going on here, but trust me - it really isn't a dream and it really isn't going to end any time soon. You seem to me to be an intelligent woman - and I know a hell of a lot about you - so try to engage that brain of yours. The sooner you talk to us, the sooner we get to decide what happens next..." He left the thought hanging, so that even I couldn't tell whether it was intended as reassurance or as a threat. Q, however, seemed to take some sort of prompt from the statement as she pulled away from him, looked down at the floor and said, in an eerie, distant voice, "I... I thought it was... was... the Rapture - the shaking, the sudden light, then the darkness. Then I saw my colleagues had been Taken, too, despite... but God works his wonders..." She was sobbing by now, while we waited for her to continue. Which she did, pointing a vehemently accusing finger at me. "And then I saw him - the beast - and a black devil and... Oh... what have I done... what did I not do..." She began to wail wordlessly, shoulders heaving as her breath came in great gasping gulps. Well, I thought, nice to know that I'm a harbinger of hell - and that Patrice is the devil incarnate - but what the fuck did we do now? I was on the point of asking the W for some tranx when Patrice once again pre-empted me... by throwing a glass of water directly into her face, pulling her round again and saying, none too kindly, "This isn't hell, Queta, though I have no doubt that we could make it a pretty good simulation if we chose to. Actually, we just saved your fucking life, Professor, and we saved it mainly because we thought we might be able to offer you a job - a job which might do more good for humanity than your fucking god ever did..." I wasn't sure how genuine his anger was but I gently pulled him away from the woman - crying silently now, I noticed, eyes wide in shock and fear - and interposed myself between them. "My colleague is right, Queta. He's not the devil and I'm not the dangerous pervert you so fondly remember. Round here, in fact, we're pretty much the good guys." I paused for a second, not because I expected a response but just to see if was hearing any of this. She still looked totally awestruck but her eyes followed me as I moved about the room. Good. "Patrice is also right that we'd like you to help us help - well, everybody really. But we need you to do so willingly and if you won't - or can't - well, then we'll have to think of something else. In any case, I think you need some rest, time to think. So we'll get you to an accommodation unit of your own, you can get some sleep and then we'll provide you with every bit of data we have to explain the situation, get a colleague who doesn't have the misfortune to be either me or black to come and talk it over with you, OK?" She nodded dumbly and one of the AI's semi-autonomous servitors came and took her away - already showing signs of the hypnotics it had covertly administered. When she'd left, Patrice looked at me significantly. "And, what," he said, calmly, "alternative did you have in mind?" "God knows," I replied, suddenly sick of the whole thing, "but I suspect that there might be opportunities available for her in hydroponics. Well, for her constituent molecules, anyway..." Life, as they say, goes on. We left the others in stasis - the AI could keep them that way pretty much indefinitely and it saved having to think about another problem just at the moment - while Yvonne did her stuff on Planet Earth and I had another stint in Deep Immersion - data-mining the earth's computer networks to inform and plan our future operations. So that left Zara and Patrice to deal with the Q situation. Both were in somber mood when I emerged from the Recovery Suite, both conspicuously anxious to ensure that I'd had enough time to recuperate, that I wasn't still disoriented from the petabytes of data I'd been dealing with. It took time, but eventually I got Patrice to give me the condensed version. Queta had taken us up on our offer of unrestricted access to our data, had seen the conclusive evidence of the existence of the multiverse, viewed the many, many skins of this particular cosmic onion and... had become more religious, to a degree that even the AI had begun to consider psychotic. As well as accessing facts, P told me, she'd had the machine teach her Hebrew, Greek and Latin, uploaded half a hundred different bibles, testaments and sundry apocrypha and was busily trying to construct some sort of 'explanation' from it all. It didn't look good. "Of course," Zara put in as an afterthought, "it doesn't help that the AI is so spectacularly cagey about where it - or they - actually came from, where they got their - umm - godlike powers from. And that seems to be the 'loophole' that Queta is working away at." I felt quite profoundly gloomy, knowing that we'd all wondered about that point, all tried in our various ways to find out, all without success. As Zara had once said to me, only half joking, it was as if the AI was embarrassed by its origins - or, perhaps, I thought, now - just guilty about them. Be that as it may, we still didn't have much to go on vis-à-vis Queta. I said as much and Zara gave me an appraising look. "There is one thing," she said. "Quite why does Q have such animosity towards you - why did she call you a beast and a pervert when she first arrived? I mean, you don't seem all that perverse to me..." "There's not a lot I can tell you," I said, shrugging. "She was a post-doc with an old friend of mine in Germany, she came to the UK to do some work on a new synchrotron we'd built, he asked me to look after her." I paused as both of them looked at me keenly. "Well, she was a lovely woman - bright, engaging, gifted - and we ended up spending a lot of time together. Then one evening - we'd been to a faculty party, then on to the pub, you know the scene - I over-stepped the mark, I guess... tried to kiss her, She slapped my face, started spouting god at me. I was shocked, to be honest - she'd never mentioned religion before - and I never saw her again. Flew home a couple of days later." "Interesting," Zara said, eventually. "Partly because she obviously made an impression on you, subconsciously - she'd not be on your Protected list, otherwise - but also because it might shed light on a little experiment I've been running." Patrice and I swapped looks, both wondering what Z had been playing with this time but for a change she explained quickly enough. "I've been monitoring the Professor very closely on a lot of different levels - hey, you both know I like to watch - and she seems to be the most sexless person I've ever come across. Not only does she not masturbate but the only time her hands even come close to her genitals is when she's washing and then briefly and, I swear, with her eyes firmly closed." She paused and we waited. This was, perhaps, interesting information... but not an experiment per se. There had to be more. There was. "So I thought I'd check out her sexual reactions, got the Wisdom to start bleeding aphrodisiacs into her environment - subtly at first, the sort of levels that might make the likes of us a bit frisky, a bit more aware of things sexual, but then in increasing dosages. As of now, I've reached concentrations where - well, if you go into that area, go masked, else we'll have to tie you to a post for a few months for the safety of all the rest of us... and the furniture, come to think of it." I sighed. "OK, so you've been fucking with her head in a way that's probably immoral, plausibly dangerous and, at least IMHO, completely out of order. So what have you found? Got any good vids of her wanking, yet?" Zara shook her head, completely failed to look contrite. "That's the point. That woman should be horny as hell - crissakes, the physio data says she is as horny as hell - but not one sign of it appears in her visible behaviour, her activities - they're all exactly as before."Oh, except for one thing - there's a huge increase in brain activity in her amygdala and areas of her frontal cortex associated with fear... and the suppression of fear." "People, this woman is a true phenomenon. Professor Munoz is terrified... utterly, completely, shit scared... of sex." So we had another conference, all agreed - even the AI - that the erotophobia that Zara had uncovered was likely to be the cause of the religious mania rather than an effect of it. The question was, what to do about it. Zara was all for adding some disinhibitors to her witches brew - basically making it impossible for Q to resist the impulses she had to be feeling - but I vetoed the suggestion. I thought there was just too much risk that getting Q to act out her sexuality while still holding onto her religious ideation would result in a dangerous psychic conflict - risking a major breakdown, perhaps even an attempt at suicide. Which I felt we couldn't risk, given the AI's observation that even the questions that Q had been asking of its data had suggested whole new areas of analysis - implying a talent that we could not afford to lose. What we needed, I felt, was a way of allowing Q to express herself sexually - to conquer the fear - from within her religion. If we could do that, safely, I hoped, the rest of the edifice would fall away. Queta was just too fine a scientist to accept all the mumbo jumbo without an overwhelming need for her to do so. Patrice suggested thinking mythologically ourselves - and in particular about all the stories of gods (and goddesses) cavorting with mortals. I thought for a moment that he was suggesting that one of us should dress up as a swan or something - or maybe just an angel, in the circumstances - but the idea was a tad more sophisticated than that. In fact, he asked the AI directly whether it could influence the dreams that Q - and, by implication, of course, all the rest of us - were having. Perhaps just slightly reluctantly, the Wisdom opined that it probably could... third party lucid dreaming, it called it. So we sat down as a group, again, and we designed some dreams. Yvonne was initially keen on including a lot of fish and snakes and things, having been exposed to rather too many Freudians in her many stays in rehab, but the rest of us kept things rather more focused. The AI provided a précis of the juicier bits of the bible - a longer document than I'd have imagined - as well as writings of the church fathers and similar on sex, the aim being to root the finished 'product' as fas as possible in Professor Munoz' existing ideology. Sadly this meant we had to lose some of the more graphic images Zara and I had recalled from Greek and Roman myths - let alone the entertainingly zoophilic stories that Patrice had learnt as a boy - but it did give us something to work on. Zara got to put the plan into practice - Yvonne claimed a lack of improvisational skills, Patrice was frightened that his very different cultural heritage would be unhelpful and, frankly, I found the whole idea of manipulating someone's thoughts on this sort of level just too freaky to contemplate. Zara, on the other hand, appeared to think of it as almost the ultimate in voyeurism - plausibly the apotheosis of some of her deeper fantasies - and didn't even try to look reluctant. We/she started slowly. The idea of angels in the Greek translations of the bible - and subsequent representations of them as big blokes with skeletally implausible wings stuck on their backs - is pretty much a mistranslation, the Hebrew version using a word meaning something more like 'wind'. So Queta found herself dreaming of a fairly stereotyped desert environment, dressed in what she thought were authentic biblical era robes - the AI was pretty scathing about the accuracy of her knowledge - and, well, having trouble with wind. Not in the digestive sense of the word, but rather a pseudo meteorological one. It was a wind with a message, of course... this was a dream, we could add subliminal content to our hearts' content... but also a strangely mischievous way of penetrating those voluminous robes. Sort of between the legs, caressing the vital regions in a sort of wind-like way. Whilst simultaneously implying that it as a Holy Wind, a Good Wind... and a relaxing Wind. And that was all. Basically, we used a phantom breeze to tickle the poor woman's genitals. And then we left her alone - let her get on with the dream all by herself. Zara carried on riding piggy back, though, observing the inner working of her subject's imagination whilst also closely monitoring all the various physiological data. All of which kept her too busy to communicate directly with the rest of us but I kept an eye on her biometrics and... well, the results looked interesting. Admittedly, Q didn't seem to react overly much to our 'stimulation' but Zara was clearly engrossed with whatever she was observing, seemingly experiencing a degree of residual arousal but also some degree of fear... and anger. Which was curious. When Q left her dream state, Zara was able to disengage safely but she seemed in no great hurry to share anything she'd learnt. In fact, she looked a bit worried, so I gave her a hug and Patrice found her a drink which she drained in a gulp. "I think it may be working," she said, finally. "But it's going to be a slow process. She got into the wind thing, for sure, got into it sexually, I mean, might actually have been enjoying the sensations, but as soon as we dropped out of the circuit - when the AI let her get on with it, I mean - she started to get more into ideas of snakes and temptation and all that shit... started to resist the excitement, fall back on her learned precepts. I didn't want to interfere again... even without doing so she was dreaming solidly for about 40 minutes, which is a hell of a long time... but I'm not sure where all this will go next. My suggestion would be to let her wake normally, see how she reacts... then maybe have another go - take it to the next stage - tomorrow." Which seemed to be that for the night, but actually Zara needed to talk a fair amount more when we were in bed, a while later. In fact, she was worried, worried in a way that she hadn't wanted to explain in front of the others. "Queta's more than frightened," she said, eventually, burying her head in my shoulder and pointedly not looking at me. "And there's more to it than some sort of subconscious hang up. In fact, it's almost like there's something else in her brain, someone else in there..." Well, that was a surprising thought. "You mean like some sort of secondary personality", I queried, "maybe the result of some early trauma - probably sexual trauma, given the external presentation?" "No." She laughed, bitterly. "I think I would recognise that. I know this sounds crazy but I think it's something real, not a subconscious artefact - I've been gambolling merrily through her bloody subconscious, remember - and whatever it may be she's not only frightened of it but despises it, too." I hugged her reassuringly, waited for her to continue. "Thing is, she seems to have built some sort of construct around it - like an oyster making a pearl, perhaps - made it into her own personal satan but... I think it might be an implant of some sort. Some sort of mind control programme". She paused again, and I finished the thought for her. It sounded somewhat implausible, of course, her idea, but... she'd been there, knew what she'd experienced. "And," I continued, "given that we are currently talking about this in a bed which happens to be on an alien planet in a novel strata of the multiverse... and which has been provided by an apparently omnipotent AI... and that said AI has just conclusively demonstrated that it is capable of both reading and influencing our very minds... well, maybe it's not all that implausible after all. You think that this 'implant' was put there by the Wisdom or something like it, don't you?" She shrugged, as well as you can shrug when nuzzling up to someone, said, "Not our Wisdom, no... that doesn't make sense. But - that trouble Yvonne had in Switzerland - we know there are probably others... maybe with different objectives... different methods. The question is, can we do anything about it?" We gave Queta another dream, of course. This time it had lots of doors, lots of twisting corridors, lots of hiding places. From Zara's reaction - not to mention Q's - it was, frankly, more of a nightmare, but it did sort of work. At least Zara told us that she was sure that the alien presence was there, sure that Queta knew - on some level - that it wasn't part of her. She also wanted rid of it... and had been searching for a rescuer for most of her life. A male rescuer, a knight in shining armour, would you believe. Blame Cervantes, blame the machismo in Spanish culture, blame... whatever. God, to her, was a powerful man, the attraction the possibility that He could rid her of this turbulent beast. And so, despite my strenuous objections, next time we fucked about in Queta's head, we decided, as a group, that it would be me doing the intruding. Which thought literally sickened me, but seemed logical: For one thing, unlike the others, I was able to do Immersion - connect to the Wisdom's data and its data sources on a neurological level - and that could plausibly be an advantage if we were going to try and neutralise whatever it was we were dealing with. Or so we hoped. In fact, it took a couple of days to set up the next session, not least because we had an existing work programme that couldn't simply be abandoned.Patrice and I spent time discussing the issues with the Wisdom - "P had absorbed ideas of possession almost with his mother's milk" - while Zara and Yvonne talked as best they could with Queta directly. Interestingly, the W acknowledged Zara's theory as probable, though without giving us any hint about who or what the other mysterious entities might be, nor how much or how little it had known of them beforehand. Queta, on the other hand, was relatively forthcoming. OK, she gave Yvonne short shrift, but she seemed almost keen to engage with Zara. Maybe she actually recognized her as someone she'd (literally) shared a dream with, or maybe she just recognized Z as someone who'd had to battle more than a few demons of her own. We didn't know - but she was more relaxed with Zara than we'd seen her before, spouting jesuitical sophistry but communicating on a human-to-human level. She even let herself be given a parting hug or two. I found this encouraging, in a way, intimidating in another. Watching the recording of Zara's interactions with her couldn't help but remind me of the brilliant young researcher I'd briefly known... and made me realize what an asset she would be to the Project. Provided I didn't completely fuck her head up. The AI insisted on my taking a test run of the interface it had designed for the experiment, the idea being that it could use elements of Queta's - and my - 'dream' to provide data and assistance to me surreptitiously. It claimed that this was an extension of work that I'd been doing on visualization of protein/protein binding at the electron level - my day job back 'home' - but the results were light years beyond anything we'd been able to produce in the lab. It really was a full 3D, all-encompassing experience and, while my experience of Immersion in data gathering mode had been something like surfing an incredibly complex waveform, this was disconcertingly like the sort of virtual world video game designers strive for - except that it was utterly real, so far as my biological brain was concerned. I was worried that I would be so literally wrapped up in the experience that it would be difficult to maintain objectivity. After all, I had to continue to absorb and manipulate Queta's thoughts, rather than simply get lost in my own, but the AI gave me the machine equivalent of a snort and pointed out that Q and I had so much in common, given the years we'd spent engrossed in molecular sciences, that the interface would be, in its opinion, trivial. So we decided to give it a go. This time the set up was simpler, back in the pseudo-biblical desert, again - Queta dreamt a lot about deserts, apparently - only with a large number of intimidating crags from which vulture-like birds were constantly ascending into thermals in the cloudless sky. Queta was walking purposefully across the terrain, aware of a need to travel without - this being a dream - having a conscious goal in mind. I was simply observing, for the moment, could feel the tension within her - the fear - the wariness with which she watched the birds, sought for movement amongst the rocks. She travelled for some time, as the sun grew higher in the sky and the heat became stifling, before coming to a river, flowing through a steeply sided ravine. Across the river was an ancient-looking chain bridge, which she knew, it was imperative - but somehow incredibly dangerous - to cross. Well, it didn't look any too safe to me, either, but it wasn't the thought of falling off the thing that was bothering her - she knew how exposed she would be, how visible to whatever it was she thought might be lurking among all those cliffs. Which, from our perspective, was all to the good - we needed data, information about the mysterious entity that had infected her mind... and that meant we - OK, Queta, it was her bloody dream - had to engage with it. When it did appear, I'm afraid, I was caught by a sudden feeling of utter absurdity... as something that looked very much like a cartoon Devil - pitchfork, horns, pointy tail, the lot - suddenly appeared before her on the bridge. Not that Q was amused - a lot of very basic fear reactions kicked into action and things began to get rapid, dreamwise. First we were falling, not into the ravine but somehow down a narrow, intestinal tunnel, then - well, there were a lot of shifts in the scenery - and Q's velocity within it - but the terror, the pursuit remained consistently acute. The problem was that I knew that none of this was within the program we'd designed, and I was getting clear signals from the AI that it wasn't actually entirely Queta who was controlling things. Which I might have welcomed as confirmation that we did have something exotic to deal with... except that I was a bit caught up in events - and the general atmosphere of sheer terror. I did still have a link of sorts through to the technology - at least for the moment - so I did my damnedest to hang onto some sort of rationality, tried to drill through the rising chaos to extract what facts I could. Which were not exactly reassuring... there was definitely something there... something foreign... something other than Queta, the Wisdom and me, I mean... and it seemed like it was running the show - controlling the dream, anyway - in a way that the AI seemed incapable of influencing. Or maybe that was just me, looking for a savior of my own, given that we'd never expected the AI to actually intervene - that was my job, why I was sitting inside Queta's fantasy in the first place - which was an oddly grounding sort of thought... I realized that things were running away from me, tried again to assess the situation logically, get whatever insights I could from the weirdness going on all round me. It wasn't easy - we - Queta and I and whatever the fuck else it was - were by now in what you could only describe as a really clichéd castle dungeon and being shepherded - by something unseen - down a particularly dank passageway towards... I didn't know what, but I knew to the depths of my soul that it was bad, found myself wondering whether I did, in fact, know this or whether I was merely taking the emotion from Queta... Not that it helped... I was by now almost rigid with fear, could feel the changes in my corporeal body even as I was swept away by the pseudo-reality of the dream. Some small part of my mind must have retained something like sanity, however, as I noticed one very odd aspect of the situation: Some of the spiders' webs - yup, it was that sort of dungeon - were regularly changing color, cycling through red, yellow and green. Which was one of the last-ditch codes I'd agreed with the AI, its logic being that color perception was so integral to my sensorium that it should be the least problematic for it to influence. So it was good to be back in contact with the thing, I thought, even if it was a bit of a shame that that particular code meant 'pull out, NOW!' - or maybe just, 'you're on your own'... Which I didn't find particularly helpful, given that I had no idea how to extricate myself. Oh, and the signal - if that's what it was - had the interesting side effect of alerting our mysterious Other to my presence in its little psychodrama. Or, at least, that seemed to be a reasonable theory as to why those same webs started looping and writhing around me. Not that I suffer from arachnophobia or anything but... well, it just didn't think it was necessary, you know? Particularly as it looked like we'd run out of dungeon - we were now in what looked amazingly like a cell - crumbling stone walls, some very rotten straw smeared across the floor and, of course, many, many more webs, now all a boringly natural grey in color. OK, I thought, ridiculously, the Bogey Man is coming, it knows about you and you're on your own. Deal with it. Except that I wasn't. On my own, I mean - I was with Queta... even if she didn't know it... and the AI had put a lot of effort into ensuring that she wouldn't find out. Nonetheless, I thought, fighting off yet another visceral wave of panic, we had to be better off working together, didn't we? So I started frantically thinking of ways that I might 'contact' Q, albeit with no very clear idea of where to start - telepathy never having been my strong point. Not that thinking logically while becoming overwhelmed with the idea that something indeterminate was about to do something inexplicably horrible things to me had ever been something I'd worked on, either, though... I knew that I needed a link and the only link I'd ever had with Queta was the work we'd done together. So I tried hard to think about that - trying to remember papers she'd published, details of the experiments we'd co-operated on or discussed, even the design of that bloody synchrotron... anything, really. And struck gold, when I got one of the details wrong - and she corrected me. Not that we started talking or anything, but I did get to have my own independent presence in her dream - I'd rather not comment on how her subconscious made me appear - which meant, I hoped, that I could act independently, too. Or, better yet, in concert with Queta - whose own self-representation was going through some fairly rapid shifts, I noticed... maybe trying to resolve the issue of how I had suddenly appeared in her dream. To be honest, I was a bit disconcerted by some of the transmogrifications - Q naked but for a pair of sheer stockings was particularly distracting - but soon enough I realized that things had changed in other ways, too. The cell had rapidly expanded and Queta and my - umm - avatar were now standing very close together in what looked horribly like an arena - a gladiatorial arena, to be precise.Which seemed to indicate that we'd reached some sort of showdown, I felt, even as I noticed that across the 'field' from us was... a giant woodlouse. Or quite possibly a trilobite. Which, of course, are the one thing I do have a fairly major fear of - irrational, I know, but, well, there it is. Can't stand the fuckers. Luckily, Queta didn't share my oddity in this regard. Or maybe it's just that a big - a really big - isopod is probably not all that scary when you've been used to confronting the Devil Incarnate. And it was her dream, after all, so the fact that a can of - I kid you not - ACME Kilz All Bugz suddenly appeared in her hands probably had a sort of perverse inevitability. As did the fact that the previously empty 'arena' got quite rapidly full of lava flows and brimstone and stuff, and that the big arthropod got distinctly fuzzy even as Q was advancing towards it. In fact, the thing appeared to be having a bit of an identity crisis - I'd never seen a woodlouse with a tail before, nor little red horns - which I reckoned must mean it was having problems deciding how to deal with the pair of us, given that we were clearly frightened by very different things. And that distraction, I thought, might allow me to get back in contact with the AI, maybe enlist some help or something? Well, maybe it was the AI, maybe it wasn't, but I suddenly knew very clearly that it would not be a good idea if Q - now dressed, I noted, vaguely, rather like Joan of Arc as imagined by Hollywood - did in fact manage to kill the thing. We needed to know a lot more about it, and that involved capture if at all possible. At which thought the world went vividly green for a moment - AI speak for 'good thinking' or such like - and I found myself holding a large net... yeah, just like the ones the guys with the tridents used in ancient Rome. So I threw it over Queta. Which was a bit unsporting of me, I suppose, and also left me - given that Q was finding it strangely difficult to extract herself from the net - the sole focus of our adversary. Which was back to looking like a woodlouse, again, only this time it had added a pair of spider-like mandibles. Each of which, I estimated, as it scuttled surprisingly rapidly in my direction, was about a metre and a half long. And more than capable of eviscerating me. Of course, you learn a lot about yourself in such situations. I learnt that my bowel control - at least in a dream - was rather more effective than I'd ever have imagined... and that even when facing certain death I didn't feel the need to pray. Well, maybe you don't have to with a friendly AI around. Prayer or not, what I got was a solution: A solution consisting of the sudden appearance of Yvonne, or, at least Yvonne as she appeared to imagine herself - a slight figure of a woman so encumbered by ammunition belts, grenades and sundry firearms that she'd never have been able to stand in real life - and carrying a Patent Devil Bug restraint - also by ACME - which I like to think was a small joke on the AI's part. In any case, it worked better than any of Wile E Coyote's ever did. So I found myself back in the recovery suite, just like any other Immersion episode, with Zara in attendance as I regained some sort of reality. "Well, congratulations," she said, evenly. "I'm not quite sure why you felt it necessary to discard the plan so completely, nor how you managed to need rescuing when you were only supposed to be observing, but - yeah - well, you got a result, I suppose." I waited for a little while - Zara was not always terribly eager to volunteer information - but eventually had to ask her outright whether she'd like to give me any details of the result in question. This got me an exasperated snort. "Hell, I don't know," she said with some passion. "The Wisdom's gone all shtumm on us - won't give any details until it's talked to you, believe it or not - but it seemed pretty damned pleased. Smug, you might even say, if you could imagine a virtually omnipotent pile of nuts and bolts ever being smug." I confessed that I found this rather easy to envisage. Changing tack, I asked about Queta, how she was, that sort of thing. "Seems OK," Zara shrugged, "woke up pretty normally, all physio readings right on the green - so no cause for concern. Except that she really wants - or, at least, needs - to talk to you, too..." "Right," I said, as she paused. "Given the way it all panned out, she could hardly have failed to know I was involved. The question, really, is how she reacts to the interference - I mean, gate crashing someone else's dreams is a pretty unpleasant thing to do..." "Yeah, well. Luckily, Yvonne was also involved, dragging your arse out of a problem, so, while you've been out of action - it's been four and a bit days, incidentally, owing to the number of brain cells you fried in all the excitement - we have been able to make some progress on that side of things." I waited again, still feeling a bit fuzzy and, mentally, like I'd done fifteen rounds with Godzilla or something, and eventually she did continue. "Basically, it appears that the religiosity stuff has been pretty much sorted - or, at least, that she's doing a failure major re-evaluation of her belief system and - given that she's a coldly logical scientist at heart - there's probably only one way that's going to go." "On the other hand, there's no increased interest in sex or any relaxation of her hang-ups in that regard - trust me, I've been checking. So, if you were trying to recruit her to your harem, I'd think again. Not least because there's been one other change of note: She now really, really hates you." Which I thought was a bit unfair, given that I had been more than a little reluctant to get involved in the process to start with. Still, I could live with it, as a result - personal animosity aside, a less religiously fanatical was probably someone we could work with. I said as much, and Zara looked slightly disappointed. "We could try another dream," she said, wistfully, "I mean, it was kind of fun..." "Well - maybe for you," I replied, beginning to disconnect myself from the technology. "What I think I need to do now is talk to the AI - and I'm not going to do that without the rest of you... and Queta... around. So let's get everyone together in the seminar room, shall we?" By the time we got there - Zara being kind enough to help me limp along - Patrice was already sitting at one end of the table, looking slightly bemused. The AI was - as a given - always everywhere in our little microcosm, so we only had to wait for Yvonne - and Queta, who she'd gone to collect. Which gave me, at least, a little time to gather my thoughts... and to admit to myself that I was still far from fully fit - feeling pretty groggy, to be honest. Or at least I was, until Queta came in and the look she gave me got the adrenalin flowing. I mean, I think I'm quite a nice bloke, all in all, and I'm not used to being despised. However, once Q had found a seat - as far as possible from me, obviously, Yvonne fluttering in nervous attendance - I felt I should kick things off with a direct question to the AI. "OK", I said, not even trying for a rhetorical flourish. "Explain. What the fuck happened?" For once it didn't reply in its conventional fashion - I got the disembodied voice but inside my head. [Xavier], it said, [This is premature. There are things we need to discuss]. "Fuck that," I said, aloud. "This is a collective. Discussions take place in the open or not at all." I saw Zara look startled - and maybe a little scared - by this, Patrice and Yvonne intrigued, Queta just as pissed off as before. The reply, though, was audible to all. "The operation was a success," it said, carefully. "The controlling artefact within Professor Munoz's brain has been isolated and removed. Analysis is proceeding. You may congratulate yourselves on this, I think." And that was it. Great, I thought, nice to be congratulated and all that, but it would be even nicer to get a question answered. So I tried again, with added sarcasm, inviting the machinery to explain, if it would be so kind, quite what the analysis had revealed to date? We got a bunch of technobabble in reply. I didn't understand a tenth of it - wasn't supposed to understand it, I realised - but for what it's worth, the facts to date appeared to be that the 'artefact' was, physically, about a 5mm cube of amorphous silicon, a lot of guff about carbon nanotube dendriforms, etc etc etc. Blinding with science, I thought... or baffling with bullshit. But it was all, I knew, that we were going to get it. "Right. From that description, it appears blindingly obvious, at the very least, that this 'artefact' was not of human origin. So who put it there and to what purpose?" There was, remarkably for the Wisdom, a long pause. Eventually, it said, "Analysis is on-going. Clearly, however, the physical attributes of the device indicate a technological level similar to - or greater than - my own. As to 'why' it was implanted, I would suggest that it was intended to guide and direct Professor Munoz's life - and work - in a way of interest to its manufacturers." Queta looked pretty unhappy about that - Patrice looked like he might be physically sick - but I didn't see any real alternative to pressing on. "Influencing her in what direction? And why? I mean, why her and why to whatever the end may have been?" "This is not known," it told me. "My analysis to date, however, suggests that the implant was made at the neonatal stage and that Professor Munoz's precocious intellectual development may have been the result of the intervention rather than its cause.""OK, I thought - serves me right for ignoring the warning and going public with all this. Now Q had to live with not only the fact that she had been infected but that she had only become who she was as a direct result of that process. I began to wonder where one could get a decent psychiatrist from in a tearing hurry, but Queta cut off the thought. "Well, c'est la vie, and all that. When all's said and done, I am who - and what I am," she said, then paused to give me a really filthy look before continuing. "And maybe I actually have an advantage over all of you - I mean, my interest in science wasn't the result of some random teacher showing me a flame test or an emerging butterfly imago or whatever. Apparently, it was engineered by an alien intelligence. That's pretty neat, when you think about it..." Which brutally pragmatic take on life probably explained, I thought, how she got to be a professor when I never did. It didn't go down well with the rest of the crew, though - Yvonne physically moved away from her. I wondered where to go next, but the Wisdom anticipated me. "I will continue the analysis, of course. For the moment, though, I think I can suggest a solution to immediate difficulties. A fellow AI - yes, there are a group of us - has expressed an interest in becoming involved with me in my work regarding your home planet. This second AI would be willing to adopt Professor Munoz to work with it as I have with you. Given the personal issues evident, between the Professor and Xavier at least, this seems a viable way of maximizing our use of available resources and enabling future co-operation without significant immediate distractions." Zara thought this could do with clarification, and asked, "You mean Queta gets her own - umm - habitat, maybe recruits her own team, but continues to co-operate with the stuff we already have planned?" The silence that greeted that, we decided to take as an affirmative, though I think we were all a bit confused, not least Queta, who didn't seem to have been given much of a role in the decision making. Not, I thought, grimly, for the first time. And then Patrice asked a follow-up question. "We also have a number of the Professor's erstwhile colleagues in stasis. What happens to them, now?" We had a bit of a conclave immediately after the meeting - just the four of us, though the Wisdom was presumably listening in - and agreed that this was probably a viable solution. I mean, Queta's talents were obvious and valuable, and there was a vast amount we needed to do, but it would take a long time before we could be remotely comfortable in sharing living space with her - or her with us, once she realised just how much we'd all contributed to her psychic deflowerment. And, presumably, this new AI on the block could be relied upon to keep our various activities co-ordinated to an adequate degree. So, in so far as we had the remotest influence on the outcome, we agreed that this was probably a reasonable solution. The more so when the Wisdom confirmed that Queta would be setting up shop with - at least at first - all of the colleagues we'd so obligingly rescued so long ago. Which left us free to get on with our end of the business, and to try and make up the time we'd lost in our impromptu exercise in psychic re-engineering. But first of all, we decided to have a bit of a party. Queta didn't accept her invitation. Later, I was alone with Zara again, rehashing the events of the previous weeks. She sympathized with the unfairness of Queta's reaction, congratulated me on my spontaneity in improvising some sort of solution and generally did a pretty good job of being supportive and - well, loving. She also gave me a really nice massage, thereby ministering to my physical as well as mental aches and pains. This was just not the Zara I knew. So I asked her, after a while, quite why she was being so nice, what, to be precise, was it that she wanted from me? "Well, aside from the obvious," she said, taking the massage to new areas, "there is a question I'd like to ask..." "What," she went on, "is it with you and bloody woodlice?"

Authors/ExtrusionUK/wisdomConversion.txt

Sandman

Zero G

Zero G by Sandman (sci fi detective sex) 9, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8350.txt Raga by Taria (oriental sex fantasy) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8404.txt http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8405.txt Still Rejected by Penthouse Forum by OddManOut Anywhere (humorous wild orgy) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8216.txt Pidge's Story by Jordan Shelbourne (poignant threesome) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8437.txt Guest Reviews: A Lover's Tail by Emerson Laken-Palmer (teen incest) 9, 7, 6 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8207.txt. Laura and Me by The Light Within (phone sex) 10, 10, 10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7840.txt In the Mirror by Mary Westbourne (vague bdsm) 9, 3, 7 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8245.txt Dick Thruster and the Passion Pirates by Nikos Ravoni (Spaceman Spiff sex) 10,10,10 http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/8408.Reposted Reviews: * "Slippery When Wet" by SueNH (sex in jacuzzi) 10, 10, 10 * = Repost of previous review (because the story has recently been reposted) "Zero G" by Sandman (1998 sandman@bitsmart.com). Sandman's stories are archived at ftp://asstr.ml.org/pub/Authors/sandman/index.html. This is the third story posted to this newsgroup in which Steve Whiley has appeared. I rated "Starlight" among my Top Stories of January. I have not yet reviewed "Double Blind"; but if these other two stories are any indication, that's a serious omission that I had better correct. Although this is technically and primarily a mystery story, it's also the ultimate "mile-high-sex" story - sex in a moving space vehicle (actually a modified asteroid) on its way to Mars. Hence the title. Ever since I learned about space travel and sex, I have wondered about what it would be like to experience sex in a weightless environment. Since I learned about weightlessness from Sister Mary Tight Ass, you can easily imagine that the topic did not come up in the classroom discussion. However, the fact that the first American woman in space was named Sally Ride did cause a titter to pass among us. At the time, we even giggled that the Russian women were probably having sex in space - but probably with other women. And so it was with great interest that I sat down at my computer to read about Steve and Trish, with their potential for 40-million-mile-high sex. The trip is scheduled to take eight weeks. It turns out that the only real way to have sex in space is orally: copulation is so difficult it isn't worth doing. But midway into the trip, Dr. Ernest Vance, a wormhole researcher from Harvard, is murdered. Since he is an ex-cop and a private investigator, Steve is assigned to investigate the crime. Trish serves as his faithful psychic - er, sidekick. She plays Watson to Steve's Holmes - with the notable difference that she gets sexually turned on while discussing clues. Steve solves the crime, of course; and a reporter even tries to purchase the VR rights to the story. The sex plays little real part in the story; it's just background - very nice background. This is a very good detective story. By that I mean the clues actually make sense. Even if you don't figure out who did it before the author tells you, the clues make sense when the Great Detective explains how he figured it out. In addition, the science makes sense: the information regarding gravity seems to be accurate, even though the wormhole notion is a flight of fantasy, if you'll pardon the pun. This story offered another candidate for the accidental quote of the month: "He (the deceased) was a hard man...." As they say, a hard man is good to find. Although the author generally writes very well, this story has several minor problems. For example, he confuses "complement" for "compliment", "discrete" for "discreet", and "fiancée" for "fiancé". {I think I had better dig out my old grammar column.} However, these minor errors do not significantly detract from the overall story. Fucking through a wormhole - now THERE'S a possibility for a sequel. Ratings for "Zero G" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Raga" by Taria (tariat@aol.com). Taria's stories are archived at http://members.aol.com/TariaT. The prince is having a session with a new girl from his harem. She's young and inexperienced, but also extraordinarily adept at the arts of love. The prince is enchanted by her, and the sex is really hot. The exotic atmosphere enhances the lovemaking. But this story actually takes place in the imagination of someone else, who is making love in a much more mundane setting. The contrast enhances the impact of the sexual activities. This is a very good story, but my description does not do it justice. This is a creative - almost poetic - story that is simply hard to describe. Take a look at it yourself. I doubt that you'll be disappointed. Ratings for "Raga" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Still Rejected by Penthouse Forum" by OddManOut Anywhere (oddman0ut@hotmail.com). The woman who presumably wrote this letter and her husband have been fantasizing about her having sex with another man. Of course (as my credulous assumptions would suggest) this turns them both on tremendously, and they determine to give it a try in real life at that American Mecca of sexuality - a dude ranch in Montana. Polly really wants to fuck Gus the Cowboy, but she can't see it in her heart to leave out any of the other delectable ranch hands {or is that raunch hands?}, and so (another credulous assumption), hubby suggests a gangbang. And so it goes. When she runs out of cowboys, she has them round up a doggie for her. And yes, next she takes it up the nose. {Is that even possible?} Then she does it with a fish; and then.... Well, you wouldn't believe it anyway. Needless to say, that was just the beginning of a wild week for Polly and George at the dude ranch in Montana. What I'd like to know is why Penthouse would turn down a letter like this. As in his past efforts, the author continues to parody real Penthouse Forum letters by using creative euphemisms to describe sexual activities, by making somewhat exaggerated claims about sexual exploits (some of which may be untrue), by writing "George and I" when it should be "George and me," and by generally sounding like a naive ditz who is trying to appear sophisticated in the eyes of the Forum editor. Ratings for "Still Rejected by Penthouse Forum" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "Pidge's Story" Jordan Shelbourne (jordan@u36.com). Jordan Shelbourne's stories are archived at http://www.u36.com/jordan. This story combines elements of spouse watching stories (actually, boyfriend watching) with realistic emotions of ambivalence and jealousy. Although spouse watching stories are often quite enjoyable in their own right, they usually make the assumption that watching your lover boink someone else has no effect other than to turn the viewer on. In this story, the viewer does get turned on, but there are some other emotions as well. The author hints at the beginning of the story that this story is not quite complete; and I suspect that this really means that he is not yet quite satisfied with the way he has handled these emotions. I think that problem arises from the fact that those emotions would be just plain hard to sort out. As it stands, I think he has done a very good job with this story. Pidge has decided to break up with her boyfriend Ben, and she is doing this by introducing him to a threesome with her friend Mary. The sex is both hot and poignant. Ratings for "Pidge's Story" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 Celeste (appeal to reviewer): 10 "A Lover's Tail" by Emerson Laken-Palmer (Sxjames@aol.com). Guest review by Dart. Amber and Brian are two very horny teenagers that live with their mother, and the "family servant," Jenny. Jenny, bless her heart, recognizes how horny the two teenagers are and generously provides each of them with sexual satisfaction before introducing them to each other in a fashion not generally thought appropriate for siblings. Amber and Brian, of course, love their introduction. I found the characters in this story too thinly developed, and the plot, at least through the beginning of the story, too hurried. In particular, I feel that the character development didn't support the story's surprise ending. Ratings for "A Lover's Tail" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 7 Dart (appeal to reviewer): 6 "Laura and Me" by The Light Within (shimmering1@.hotmail.com). Guest review by David Rills This is Phone Sex the way it ought to be. It's something most men fantasized about - your girlfriend giving you a great Blow Job while you talk to a sexy telemarketer. The story is well done and a real turn on. I highly recommend this one. Ratings for "Laura and Me" Athena (technical quality): 10 Venus (plot & character): 10 David (appeal to reviewer): 10 "In the Mirror" by Mary Westbourne (mwestbourne@hotmail.com). Guest review by Fiddler. A woman looks at herself in the mirror and appreciates the changes that have occurred under her lover's (not always tender) ministrations. That's it. Neither the sex nor the bondage and spanking is particularly explicit. The feeling is a bit warmer than the review, however. Best line: "The air skulks in." Ratings for "In the Mirror" Athena (technical quality): 9 Venus (plot & character): 3 Fiddler (appeal to this reviewer): 7 "Dick Thruster and the Passion Pirates" by Nikos Rovani (reason2sin@innocent.com) guest review by Sandman (sandman@bitsmart.com). Sci-Fi stories can be tricky for a reader. There's more chance you'll find some nubile vixen reaching orgasm from the slimy touches of a jaxinian sand worm than the more "normal" male/female interactions. This is the problem, I suspect, most readers have with stories labeled Sci-Fi. But a story review can put those fears to rest. Rest assured, this story is strictly a human male/multiple human female story that just happens to take place in the future. Dick and Dick's dick have been in space far, far too long as Dick's dick continually reminds him.Being in space does something to a CosCop (Cosmic Cop); you learn to talk in clichés, and you learn to hold complete conversations with your dick. It makes for some pretty interesting conversations indeed, when Dick and Dick's dick are captured by space pirates. This is at first a source of tension, since the pirates are showing an unhealthy interest in both Dick and Dick's dick, but tension soon turns to witty and giddy delight when Dick and Dick's dick find they've been captured by FEMALE pirates -- talk about luck! Dick's dick finds itself in Dick's dick's dick heaven. Sorry, just wanted to see if I could get away with that last sentence. :-) LOL is a cliché in the online world, but this story definitely had me laughing out loud in the real world. The story is witty, funny, and tongue-in-cheek enough for even the most hardened readers of this newsgroup. In a way, the story is very similar to some of M1ke Hunt's stuff, and for those going through M1ke withdrawal, this is a worthy substitute. M1ke never wrote a sci-fi piece, but if he ever did, something tells me it would be very much like this. The only thing I would have liked to see different in this story would be blank lines between the paragraphs and between dialog lines. This really didn't distract from the reading once I got used to it, but as the only distraction in an otherwise perfectly good story, I feel compelled to point it out. The white space serves as markers for the readers' eyes, making it easier to know where they are and where they've been. In my scores, I should knock off a point for this in Athena, but I'm going to be lenient here -- maybe because I'm just in such a good mood right now, but mostly because a ten in the appeal to reviewer category allows me to overlook the negligible flaws in an otherwise outstanding story. In summary, I find myself highly recommending "Dick Thruster and the Passion Pirates," and at 16k (maybe a 15-minute read for slow readers), there's no excuse not to judge the story for yourself. {Celestial note: "... even the most hardened readers.... " - do I have naive reviewers or what?} Ratings for "Dick Thruster and the Passion Pirates": Athena (technical quality): 10 -- Had too much fun to find problems. Venus (plot & character): 10 -- Great idea. Sandman (appeal to reviewer): 10 - Highly recommended. * "Slippery When Wet" by SueNH. This was one of the first really sexy stories I reviewed for Celestial Reviews. I'll repost the original review: I was going to read this story late at night and write the review right away, but after a story like that, I have to take a break and visit my husband. He's going to wake up with one hot mouth around his cock! This was a truly erotic story. I can't do it justice by trying to summarize it - It's about a girl and a guy who get into the fitness center jacuzzi after closing time. Read the story for the rest. The only part that I didn't like at first was when they let the three college kids join them in the jacuzzi. Actually, I liked that part too; but except for that part, I'd be ecstatic for a chance to do exactly what the two of them did. Sue has one of the best disclaimers of all the a.s.s. writers: "Reading and writing these stories should be acts of fantasy, and I hope that you can keep your notions of real and fantasy life separate in your mind. I know I can." And so can I!

sci fi detective sex

Authors/Celestial_Reviews/1998/258-Feb_14.txt

AndromedanDracula

Down With Hypno Snakes

Zachary Gordon, the sprightly pint-sized star of 'Diary of a Wimpy Kid', woke up groggily with his cheek pressed against cold concrete. A cool rivulet of drool slipped down his lips when he lifted his head up, panicking when he found himself wrapped up from head to toe by heavy, thick rope. Helplessly, he struggled. He tried to scream for help but was stifled by a hard rubber ball gag strapped tightly to his mouth. A shadowy figure came out of the dank darkness of this concrete bunker Zach was trapped in. The boy screamed incoherently through his gag for help, tears welling up in his bloodshot eyes. The mysterious creeper emerged out of the black and came under the dim fluorescent light bulb dangling overhead. Zack pissed himself in fright as he was confronted with a pale-skinned teenager wearing an emerald green cloak. In ominous tones, the soft-voiced teen spoke. "Please don't cry, Zachary," the teen said in a caring tone. "I'm sorry we had to tie you up again, but you almost got away from us, and I simply can't allow that to happen." Zack didn't have a clue what the teen was talking about. The last thing he could remember was kicking back with a Shirley Temple at a press party for Justin Bieber's live-action Jungle Book remake. He remembered getting hypnotized in Sir Hiss's coils, getting his rocks off a little for fun...some flashes of color...quite beautiful really...getting lightheaded...and then...those psychos crashed the party and kidnapped him! A militant group of teen cultists had been snatching up mancubs left and right from their loving snakes to try to convert them back to their own species. These young people were a resistance group who rejected reptile dominance over humanity, making it their mission to deprogram the poor brainwashed boys who chose to associate with prominent Hollywood hypno pythons. And Zack was their latest rescue mission. The previously known teen removed his heavy green cloak, revealing himself to be one of the Disney twin duo of Dylan and Cole Sprouse. Cole, with his shaggy dirty blonde hair and glowing white smile, was a quite a strange sight for the bound boy to take in. Cole knelt down and wiped away Zach's tears with his thumb, stroking his mussed-up brown hair gently. Zack flinched at the contact. "I know you're confused, Zack," Cole said sadly, "and I promise that I'll help you get your head straight soon enough. But you're going to have to stay put. We can't have you running back to Hiss and telling him where we are. I'm gonna take the gag off, but you're gonna have to promise not to scream. Got it?" Zack's jaw ached from holding in the ball gag, and he nodded weakly 'yes'. Cole unstrapped the gag, making Zack drool and spit out the rancid taste of old hard rubber. The boy gasped for breath and craned his head up at Cole, begging with his eyes to be released. "Please Cole, just let me go. I'll do anything you say," Zack croaked. Cole smiled warmly, running his fingers across the boy's cheek. "How does a hot shower, a big breakfast, and a fresh pair of undies sound to you? If I get all of these ropes off, do you promise not to try to escape?" Zack, weak and powerless to resist, just nodded 'yes' again. He was fearful of what his former Hollywood Disney friend was going to do to him, but didn't want to be wriggling like a worm on a concrete floor either. So he stayed still as Cole pulled him upright and began unwrapping his tight bonds. Zack was flushed with embarrassment when he realized he was only in a pair of piss-stained briefs, the acrid stench of his own ruin making him scrunch his nose. "Pee-yooo!" Cole said. "If I knew you were gonna wet yourself, I would've put you in training pants." Zack's eyes grew wide in alarm at the threat. "Just kidding, dude," Cole said assuredly, placing Zack's hands behind his back and cuffing him. Zack's scrawny boyish chest stuck out comically, like he was waiting in line to be chewed out by a drill sergeant. But screaming at a hypno-victim wasn't the human resistance's methods. Ironically, it wasn't too far off from the mesmerism that mancubs were subjected to by their dominating snake masters. Zach was led by the cloak-clad Sprouse brother through endless gray corridors lined with heavy steel doors. Cole led him further through rooms filled with boxes of animation cells, shelves of film cans, animation stands, and plush lounges filled with the after-scent of cigarette smoke. It didn't take Zach too long after seeing the trademark Mickey Mouse logo that he was deep underground in the Disney Vault itself! A popular urban legend, this secret vault was supposed to be 'ol Uncle Walt's fallout shelter built for the Disney elite to survive the upcoming nuclear war with the commies. But Walt had dropped dead at the tail end of the '60s, and the facility was converted into a repository for the secret shames and scandals that should never be allowed to see the light of day. In a huge gymnasium-sized space, hundreds of pristine prints of the racist masterpiece 'Song of the South' had been put in a big pile next to mountains of documents confirming Walt Disney's tangential ties to the Nazi party. Bones from the remains of Disney's competitors had been arranged in strange patterns, their occult significance lost to time. Zack shrieked when his bare foot crushed a child-sized leg bone underneath him, his cry met with more forceful prodding by Cole to keep trudging on. The wimpy kid's destination was completely unknown, but he knew no matter what, this wasn't going to be a zippidy-do-dah day for him. After a tiring march through one strange freak show after another, Zack was led into a small, dusty classroom. Zack tried all he could from screaming out again when he saw a dozen other movie star boys sitting in rotting desks, wearing dead blank zombie-like expressions on their faces. They stared ahead at a black-and-white projector screen, slumped down with their elbows resting tranquilly on their desks. Unlike the half-naked wimpy kid, the other Hollywood IT boys were dressed in skin-tight one-piece green unitards with the words 'HUMANS FIRST' printed on their chests. Cole's brother Dylan sat at the teacher's desk in a sharp green business suit, madly typing long strings of commands into an obsolete desktop computer. The Sprouse brother's evil sneering face was glowed eerily from the green-and-black screen. "About time, Cole," Dylan said calmly. "I was almost going to send of the drones after ya. If you and Zach want to fool around, you'll have plenty of time later...once we straightened his sick little mind out a little." "No!" Zack yelled. "You're not going to get away with this! Mass-I mean, Hiss is coming for me!" Cole, in hearing this declaration of Zack submissively calling that pervy snake his 'master', shoved him violently into a splintery rotten desk and pushed his eyes wide open. "Enough of this sick ass snake bullshit!" Cole said. "Play the film!" Dylan passively brought up the propaganda film and hit 'return'. A small compartment from the ceiling opened up and an overhead projector whirred to life, illuminating the room with a corrective educational movie designed for humans who succumbed to perversions and the 'mancub lifestyle'. Zack could do nothing but fix his eyes forward as a cheery-sounding narrator began to describe the black-and-white film reel being displayed in front of him. "Hey there Mouseketeers, this is your 'ol Uncle Walt. It seems like some of you boys and girls have fallen in with a bad crowd, and are under the dastardly influence of the clandestine cabal of cold-blooded commie hypno snakes. But never fear. I've contacted Dr. Freeman, inventor of the modern medical cure of the lobotomy, to design a program that will break you free of your snake perversion once and for all. Just let go...and keep your eyes forward." Zack looked at the strange pulsing patterns of light and color in front of him dumbfounded. Instead of the pleasurable spirals of Hiss's hypnosis, his mind was filled with a brain-stabbing pain that made him moan and whimper in agony. Cole held his head straight and pushed his eyelids wide open with his thumbs. Tears rolled down Zack's face, knowing that after this brainwashing session, his desires for his master would be replaced with the 'correct' craving for boys his own age. The Sprouse brothers cackled evilly in triumph. Zach was going to be their slave now, and part of their nameless, faceless army to annihilate the hypno snake menace from the face of the Earth. All was lost. That was, until... The image on the film was replaced by the fat, bulbous head of Lord Set, king of the pythons. In this new film, spliced covertly right into the old one, Set sat on his temple throne surrounded by scantily dressed mancubs of all shapes and sizes. With a deep, trembling voice, the giant snake Lord Spiraled his eyes and gave the shocked Sprouse brothers a whole new 'lesson'. "It'ssssss time to ssssssender mancubsss," Set commanded. "Your cult of humanity hasss been compromisssed.""Now, playthings, lose yourself to my gaze and learn your place," Dylan and Cole's eyes nearly bulged out of their heads at Set's power, ripping off their cloaks and facing the screen with rock-hard boners poking through their briefs. The twins put their hands over their heads submissively, mouths gaping and strings of drool dripping to the classroom floor. They moaned in lust, creaming their shorts helplessly as Set's film destroyed their wills. Zack slid further back into the desk seat, smiling dumbly with circles of color bursting in his eyes. The wimpy kid's boner strained in his yellow-stained briefs, the boy desperate for relief. If it weren't for the cuffs, Zack would've stroked his boy dick raw to get off. But he wasn't going to have to wait long, for the Snake Liberation Squad was coming. And he'd once again be in the comfort of Sir Hiss's loving coils. The classroom full of zombie mancubs smiled sweetly at their snake god, hanging on his every command. Set droned on with his indoctrination, bending their wills totally to serve the new snake order. After hours and hours of eye-searing hypnosis, Set commanded his playthings to drift into a silent slumber. Zack's face hit the desk, his cheek resting on its cool, splintered surface, and went to sleep like a good mancub. The mysterious Mr. Kipling and his crack team of boy thieves would soon rescue the kidnapped Hollywood idols, and phase two of total reptilian dominance of the world would begin. Pity the foolish humans who stood in their way...

Authors/AndromedanDracula/Kaa Hypno Series/Down With Hypno Snakes.txt

Take Charge Dad

Making of a Slave Boy: Interrogation

Zach and Alex kept playing cards as they occasionally looked out at the approaching fishing boat. I knew we were expected to meet the boat at the dock to greet our Master and tie the boat up. I started to get anxious as the boat got closer. They didn't seem to be concerned. "Um, shouldn't we get down to the dock?" I asked, looking at first Zach, then Alex. Alex smirked, "Sure, if you're chicken. YOU better head down there now, you better be early since a little wimp like you can't risk being late and getting punished. You should take the Slave with you," he said, nodding at Zach. Zach laughed, "Nah, I'm not afraid of being late, plus I can run faster than you. Why don't you get started down there and I'll catch up." I wasn't really sure exactly what game they were playing with each other, but I decided I didn't care if they thought I was chicken or not. I wasn't about to be late to greet our Master at the dock. I climbed down from the loft and made my way to the dock. I stood there waiting for a couple minutes, and as the fishing boat approached the dock, Alex and Zach came running down the dock just in time to be standing at the end as Master pulled the boat alongside and reversed the engines to stop the boat's momentum. Our Master was shirtless as he stood at the helm. I was again struck by how handsome he was - he was just so manly. Maybe Alex was right, I was a fag that wanted to belong to a real man. There was a moment of confusion as we realized that Jose was not on the fishing boat with Master. When they explained my duties for the boat docking to me, Alex and Zach had said that Jose would be with our Master. Jose was supposed to toss the rope to me to secure the stern. Since he wasn't there, we went with plan B; Zach jumped onto the fishing boat and tossed me the rope, then he scrambled to the bow to toss a line to Alex. After the boat was secure, we all stood on the dock, our hands behind our backs, and our heads bowed. Alex wiggled his toes, the signal, and we all said "Welcome home, Master," just as we had practiced. "Hello boys," replied our Master as he stepped down onto the dock, carrying a backpack. He was dressed in cargo shorts and a tight t-shirt that showed off his muscular arms and chest. "Slave and Alex, unload the supplies and put everything away, then occupy yourselves in the main house. You have permission to play video games. Boy, follow me," he said as he turned and started walking up the dock towards the island. "Yes Master," we all answered before separating. Zach and Alex climbed into the boat to start unloading it, while I hurried after Master. I caught up to him and fell into place behind him as he had been taught by Zach and Alex, slightly to his right and about two feet behind him. If Alex had been with us, he would have taken the position where I was, while the next 'highest' ranked boy would take up position behind him and to his left. If all three of us were to be with him, I would walk behind all three, in line with our Master, forming a diamond pattern. I followed him as he walked towards the kennels. Even though Zach had assured me that I wasn't going to be locked up in one of the cages, I was still nervous. We went inside and let out a sigh of relief as he led me upstairs to one of the rooms off the main hallway. I hadn't been up here before, but when we went into the room it was obvious that one of the other boys had been in here recently to set it up. There was a full-size bed against one wall with a table next to it. The bed frame had drawers built into it underneath the bed. The bed frame also had thick wooden bed posts that were lined with eye rings. There were also lots of eye rings in the ceiling and walls. A pair of chains hung down from the ceiling. I closed the door behind me and took up position just inside the room, my feet shoulder-width apart, my arms behind my back, and my head slightly bowed with my eyes directed towards the floor a few feet in front of me. "Okay Boy, time to show me what you've learned," he said as he set his backpack down on the table next to the bed. "Present," he ordered. I quickly moved my arms up, locked my hands behind my head and stuck my elbows out. I kept my chest pushed out by pulling my shoulders back. He walked over and ran his hands over my body, feeling my arms, shoulders, chest, stomach and butt. "Such a pretty submissive boy. I'm looking forward to breaking you in," he said as he stepped behind me. He reached around and tugged on my nipples, "I'm going to stretch out your little titties; give you some big thick nipples that I can chew on." He started pinching my nipples, digging into them with his fingernails. I tried my best not to cry out in pain, but he kept squeezing until I let out a whine while my knees started to shake and I unconsciously tried to pull my chest away from the abuse. He released my aching tits, then slapped my ass hard, "Back into position Boy." I quickly straightened up and pressed my chest back out. "Not bad, you lasted longer than I expected. You have some potential. You will eventually learn to enjoy the pain, to crave it. You won't feel alive unless you are getting abused. You are mine now Boy to do with as I please. Pleasuring me will be your sole desire, and nothing brings me more pleasure than abusing a little slut like you," he said as he walked in front of me. He reached down and grabbed my soft little cock and tiny balls, wrapping his hand around them. "Who do these belong to Boy?" he asked. "You, Master," I said. "What is their purpose?" he asked. "To bring you pleasure, Master," I answered. Zach had coached me on what the correct answers were to questions like this. "Good Boy," he said as he started to squeeze them. I did my best to control the pain using a breathing exercise Alex taught me, but eventually the pain again grew to more than I could take. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. I cried out but couldn't pull away because his grip was too tight. He eventually let go, but then pulled his hand back and delivered a hard open palm slap to my balls. I screamed in pain and collapsed. I clutched at my aching balls and curled up into a fetal position as I cried. "I am disappointed in you Boy. Not because you couldn't take the pain, but because you deceived me. I only buy boys that no one wants. Boys who no one will miss. But apparently you somehow tricked Jose, and therefore me. Who is looking for you, boy?" he asked. I could hear him walking around the room, but I wasn't looking at him. I was confused; I didn't know what he was talking about. I gave him the only answer I could, "I don't know, Master." "Liar!" he yelled. He kicked me. "Who would miss if you disappeared? Answer me!" he screamed. I desperately tried to figure out who would be looking for me. I grasped at the first person that came to mind, "Maybe Granny Williams," I said. "Granny? Your grandmother is dead. Who is Granny Williams?" he asked as he paced around the room. I wondered how he knew who my grandmother was and that she was dead. My mother had never talked to me about my grandmother. She just told me that she hadn't seen her mother since she ran away from home when she was fifteen. I saw the man approaching me, he looked like he was going to kick me again so I stopped wondering about my mother and grandmother and blurted out an answer to his question. "She is an old black lady that lives on the first floor. She would always give me candy when I'd help her with her grocery shopping. All the kids in the building called her Granny cause she called us all her grankids. I don't know why," I babbled. "No, it wouldn't be her. Is there anyone else? We need to find out who is looking for you because whoever it is, he is dangerous. I am sorry to tell you this Boy, but whoever is looking for you murdered your mother and Diego. The police are looking for him and you," he said. I was stunned and even more confused. My mother and Diego murdered? Someone dangerous looking for me? I didn't know what to feel. I had already made peace with the fact that I wouldn't be seeing my mother again for years, and I didn't really like her, but she was still my mother. Now she was dead. I was starting to recover from the pain in my balls and ribs, so I struggled up to my feet and got back into the 'present' position. I saw that Master had gone over to the table and pulled a folder out of his backpack. He walked over and shoved a piece of paper in my face. "Who took these photos of you Boy?" he asked, his voice had an edge of anger to it.I looked at the paper. It had two photos of me on it. One was a close-up of my face. I was smiling, even though I had a swollen lip. A little present from Diego for talking back to him. The other was of me sitting on the bed in Diego's guest room. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. I remembered both of those photos and the man that had taken them. "Bo, Master," I said. "Who is Bo?" was his terse response. "A man that bought drugs from Diego. He also would fool around with me," I answered. Master asked me a ton of questions about him. What Bo looked like, if I knew his last name, if I ever heard any of his conversations with Diego, did I know what Bo did for a living, things like that. I told him everything I knew, which wasn't much. Master kept telling me he needed to know everything about the man so that he could help catch him for what he did to my mother and Diego. I told the truth even though I suspected that my Master wasn't telling me the truth about what happened. I knew he couldn't go to the police with any of this information because he couldn't tell them how he got it. Also, it didn't make any sense to me. Why would Bo kill my mom, even if he was upset at Diego for selling me? I was starting to cramp up from having to maintain my position for so long. I guess Master finally figured I didn't have any more information I could tell him, so he let me relax for a minute. He picked something up off the table and came over to me, walking behind me. I felt something brush up against my head as he put it on me. It was a blindfold, and he covered up my eyes. I heard the drawers on the bed being opened and closed, then my Master was back, standing in front of me; I could hear and smell him. "Right hand," he ordered. I obeyed and held my right hand out. He wrapped a leather wrist restraint around it and cinched it tight. "Left hand," he then ordered, releasing my right. I lowered it and raised my left hand. He put a leather wrist restraint on the left hand. He then grabbed me by the back of the neck and guided me across the room. My guess that he was leading me to where the chains were was soon confirmed as he raised my right hand up and hooked it onto the chain. He then hooked it to the other chain, stretching out my arms. He went and got something else, then returned. "Open your mouth, Boy," he said. I felt a small pill get placed on my tongue. "Hold that for a second," he ordered. I did as he commanded. I could feel and taste the pill as it started to dissolve a little on my tongue. It tasted really bad, having a strong bitter taste that burned a little. Zach had let me know never to refuse to take anything he gave me, the punishment would be worse than whatever he would give me. A moment later, I felt his hand cup my chin and tilt my head back. "Here, drink this to wash the pill down," he said as he pressed a bottle of water to my lips. He poured a small amount of water into my mouth, and I swallowed. I heard some more sounds of him getting things out of drawers, and then I smelt the familiar smell of weed. It seems he enjoyed smoking it as much as Zach and Alex did. The smell got stronger as I heard him walk around in front of me again. "Breathe in when I blow smoke into your mouth, Boy," he said. I could hear him use a lighter and draw in some breath. Then I felt his lips brush against mine, and he started to gently blow smoke into my mouth. I inhaled as ordered. He repeated this a couple of times, and I soon felt stoned. I was really high when he finally had enough and stopped. The pot had a much greater effect on me, since I was so much smaller. It was really hard to focus and pay attention to what he was doing while I was baked and blind. The next thing I noticed was a cool, slick substance being applied to my nipples. It was quickly followed by two suction cups. He squeezed the air out of the cups to start stretching my little nipples. "I like big nipples on my boys. It's easier to torture them when you can find them," said my Master. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or to himself at that point. He then moved around behind me, and I felt his breath on the back of my neck, "You need to be punished for pulling away from me earlier when I was squeezing your pathetic little nips and your tiny balls, don't you, Boy?" It was a struggle to remember all the rules Zach and Alex had tried to teach me since I was so stoned. He spanked my ass, "When I ask you a question, Boy, I expect an answer," he growled. "Yes, Master. Sorry, Master," I said. I remembered the advice Zach had given me, whenever you screw up, beg to be punished, he'll actually go easier on you if you beg to be punished. "Please punish me, Master. I'm a weak, pathetic slave boy that deserves to be beat. Please hurt me, Master," I begged. "Hmph, yes, you need to be punished. I'm going to spank you, and I'm not going to take it easy on you. You'll need to learn to control your reaction to the pain, learn to enjoy it. I want you to count out your blows. You are going to get twenty spankings, if you screw up the count, I'll have to start over," he explained. "Yes, Master, thank you, Master," I said. Alex had made me practice this yesterday, getting spanked and counting them out. At the time, I had thought it was just an excuse for the older boy to hurt me, but now I realized he had been telling me the truth about needing to learn tricks to keep count. I also quickly discovered that Alex had taken it really easy on me yesterday when spanking me. I tensed my butt cheeks, expecting a blow to land. Not being able to see him, I didn't know when it was coming. He must have been watching and waiting because as soon as I relaxed my cheeks again, he delivered the first blow. "OOOWWWW," I cried out as his hand came down hard on my right butt cheek. I had been spanked before by Diego and my mom and Alex yesterday, but never that hard. I jumped forward and lost my balance as the chains held my arms back. My feet slipped out from under me, and I was hanging by my hands. I eventually managed to get my feet back under me. I heard him sigh. "You must really love to get beat, Boy. This is going to take forever if you can't even manage to count to one, you faggot," he said. "Sorry, Master, I'll do better, Master," I apologized. I felt so worthless. "ARRGGHH! One," I cried out as his hand came down on my left cheek. As I squirmed in pain, I immediately started preparing myself mentally for the next blow, repeating 'two' to myself as I struggled to stay on my feet. "Two, gggghhh," I cried out as the next blow landed. I couldn't control myself, and I started to sob, tears running down my face, as pain shot through my body from my ass. It felt like my ass was on fire, and I repeatedly lost my feet, swinging from the chains by my bound wrists, but I was able to remember the count and croak out the numbers blow after blow. I was sobbing uncontrollably, and tears were streaming down my face as I finally yelled out "Twenty." I hung there limply, held up only by the wrist restraints that were digging into the base of my hands. My shoulders ached almost as much as my ass. I don't know how long I was hanging there when I felt his arm wrap around my waist and lift me up. He used his other hand to unhook the chains and free me. He carried me over to the bed and removed the suction cups on my little tits before he laid me face down on the bed. "Well done, Boy," he said. He handed me the bottle of water, "Here, drink." I gulped down some water, all the pain in my ass and arms had distracted me from how thirsty I was. As the pain faded, my other senses started to return to me. I was feeling warm, and I was covered in sweat. I also wasn't feeling as stoned anymore, as a sense of euphoria started to come over me. Zach told me later that the pill he had given me was ecstasy. As I lay on the bed, it definitely started to kick in. My skin felt sensitive and wanted to be touched. Master lay down on the bed next to me and removed the blindfold. I turned and looked at him, momentarily forgetting my place and Zach's instructions never to look him in the eyes. He had dark brown eyes, almost black. His short black and gray hair was damp from his own sweat. He was also naked, having stripped off his clothes while I was blindfolded. Fortunately, he didn't notice or didn't care that I was looking at him. He reached out and put his hand on my chin, "Open your mouth, Boy," he said. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. He hocked up some spit and spat it into my mouth. Then leaned in and kissed me, shoving his tongue into my mouth. He pulled me on top of him and ran his hands over me as he kissed me. It felt amazing. I was squirming and writhing on top of him, trying to press as much of my body and skin against him as I could. I was so out of it that I don't know if it was a minute or an hour later when he pushed me off of him and positioned me lying face down on the bed. Before I knew what was going on, he had attached ropes to my wrists and pulled them tight through rings that were on the bed posts. He then put some leather ankle restraints on me and secured them with rope to the rings on the foot of the bed. I was stretched tight on the bed, lying face down and spread eagle. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pick up a big bottle of lube from the table. He got in between my legs and started to lube up my asshole. He went slower this time than he had on the boat. Using his fingers to open my hole and make sure there was plenty of lube up inside me. Zach had given me tips while he had been applying the medicated cream to my ass the last few days. Both Zach and Alex had the ability to relax their asses and open up their assholes. They would rub them with their hands, poke them with their fingers, and their holes would open up. They promised that I would eventually be able to do the same, I just had to practice and get fucked by a lot of big cocks.So I pushed out on my ass as they had taught me while Master fingered my hole. I was expecting it to hurt, but I think the drug was overwhelming the pleasure centers of my brain. I was horny as hell, but my cock was soft, my entire focus was on the pleasure that he was creating with his fingers in my ass. He was stretching me out, adding more fingers until he had three fingers inside my ass. I moaned in disappointment as he pulled his fingers out. Soon though, he was lying on top of me, his weight pressing my tied-up body into the bed. I could feel his big, thick cock resting in the crack of my ass. "Beg for it, Boy," he whispered into my ear. "Please fuck me, Master. I need you in me. Fuck me with that big cock, I don't care if it hurts, I need you to fuck me, use me," I said, trying to remember all the things Zach had told me to say. "Yeah, you're a little faggot slut, aren't you, Boy?" he said as he started to grind his cock into the outside of my butt. "Yes, Master, I'm your little faggot slut. I'm your cum dump; use me, abuse me, I live to please you, Master," I said. I guess he heard what he wanted because he adjusted himself so the head of his thick, ten-inch monster cock was pressed up against my eleven-year-old asshole. While he had just had three fingers inside of me, it was nothing compared to the thickness of his uncut cock. He started pushing it into me, and despite the ecstasy and the pot, it hurt. I knew it was pointless to struggle, but still, I couldn't help myself, I tried to crawl away; the ropes and his weight held me in place, helpless to resist as he slowly impaled me on his cock. He entered me a lot slower this time compared to when he fucked me on the boat. He pulled out a couple of times and smeared more lube on his cock, then stuck it back into me. Sweat was pouring off of me as I strained against the ropes holding me in place. He continued to insult me, telling me things like I was a worthless faggot whose only purpose was to be used by a man like him. I was in too much pain to answer him, instead, I whimpered and sobbed as I tried to push out my ass, like I was popping. I don't know how long it took, but it seemed like it was forever before he was finally all the way inside me. I felt his hips press against my butt cheeks as he laid on top of me, not moving for a minute as my body was forced to become accustomed to having all of his huge cock up my ass. I felt some movement on top of me. I opened my eyes and saw his arm reaching out to the table. He picked up a half-smoked joint and re-lit it. He tossed the lighter back on the table, then took a huge hit off the joint. He held it in for a minute, then grabbed me by my hair and turned my head to the side as he leaned down and blew the smoke into my mouth. I could feel that my face was a mess, covered in tears from my eyes and snot from my nose. He didn't seem to notice or care as he kept shotgunning more lungfuls of pot smoke into me. The pot helped with the pain in my ass and seemed to reactivate the ecstasy as I started to feel happy for no real reason. I felt this incredible sensation in my ass as he shifted his weight just a bit, which moved his cock in and out of my ass just an inch or two. There was a distant pain from my torn asshole, but there was also an electrical shock that seemed to travel from inside my ass to my dick. I moaned in pleasure. "I knew you would eventually start enjoying this, faggot. When I first saw your photo, I could tell you were born to take cock. Soon, you will feel incomplete when you don't have something stuffed up your cunt," he said as he started to slide just a little bit of his cock in and out of me, working my hole. At the mention of a photo, I remembered the pictures he had shown me that were taken by Bo. I don't know why, perhaps it was the ecstasy, but I smiled at the thought that Bo was out there looking for me. I felt there was someone out there that loved me. I started to imagine it was Bo fucking me instead of the man that now owned me. Master's cock was rubbing up against something inside of me that created intense feelings of pleasure, but my mind thanked Bo for it. The room seemed to spin, and the walls pulsed in time with his fucking. Suddenly, though, it was over. "UGGGH, oh fuck, take my cum, Boy," groaned Master as he ground his cock into me and held it deep inside my ass as he came. His cock twitched and pulsed as it fired volley after volley of cum into me. With one final groan, he finished and collapsed on top of me. I struggled to breathe as his weight pressed down on me. Eventually, he rolled off of me and untied my arms and legs. I was too exhausted to move, but he grabbed me by the hair and pulled. I scrambled along the bed to keep from getting dragged as he moved my head to the edge of the bed where he was standing. His softening cock was hanging right in front of my face. It was covered in lube, cum, and had some frothy red bubbles at the base. I started shaking in fear. Zach and Alex had both tried to reassure me that this part wasn't as bad as it looked, but now that the time for me to clean his cock was here, I panicked. As he moved his cock towards my face, I turned away. I didn't even see his hand; it moved so fast. He used his free hand to slap me across the face. "Suck, Boy, or I'll beat you bloody," he yelled at me. The whole side of my head ached. He raised his hand again. Before he hit me another time, I opened my mouth and started licking the head of his dick. I think the pain actually helped me in cleaning his cock because it overwhelmed the rest of my senses. I don't even remember what it tasted like, I just cried and licked as he used his grip on my hair to guide my mouth around his cock. When I had licked him clean, he pushed me back down onto the bed, then went over to the table. He collected his backpack and put the paper with the photos back into it, then left the room. I was curled up in a ball on the bed, crying, when Zach came into the room. He carried a tray and went over to the table and set it down. He picked up a warm washcloth from the tray and used it to wipe me off. Even though it was a hot day and there wasn't any air conditioning in the room, I started shivering. He then moved a plate of sliced fruit from the tray to the bed next to me. Finally, he got a sheet out from one of the drawers under the bed and covered us both with it as he laid down behind me. He wrapped his arms around me and held me. I cried for myself and I cried for my mother. After I was cried out, he started to feed me pieces of fruit. They were juicy and tasty. I enjoyed the feel of them in my mouth as I was still flying on the ecstasy.She glanced briefly towards them but didn't make a move to take them or make the detective bring them closer to her for inspection. "If you're with the police, then why do I see you coming in and out of here to buy drugs from that Diego, but you never do anything to stop what he was doing?" she said. "Sorry, ma'am, I'm not at liberty to say. It's an ongoing investigation," he responded. "Hmph," she huffed, then turned towards the window, "Then you best be leaving, 'cause I ain't at liberty to say what I saw." Robert thought it over, then nodded, "I was undercover and working on getting information so I could try to find out where the gang that Diego was with was getting its drugs." "You still trying to find them drugs?" she asked. "No, ma'am, at this point my main concern is trying to find out what happened to Kyle," Robert said, giving her the honest answer. She nodded, "Such a sweet boy. He was always helping me out. Told me about you, said you was a nice man, unlike the others. You brought him books, I saw. I see everything that happens around here." "Did you see what happened to Kyle, ma'am?" asked Robert as he leaned forward. "I saw; a man took him away and never brought him back. The man came back though. He came back later that night with a couple men from Diego's gang. The men from the gang took some boxes out of the building. The man, he was the one that shot Diego and Jess. The other two, the ones I'd seen before, they told everyone that if anyone talked to the police, they and their families would get the same as Diego and Jess," she said. "Ma'am, are you willing to help me find Kyle by coming down to the station and looking through some photo books and working with a sketch artist to help us identify these men?" asked the detective. "If it will help you find that sweet little boy, yes," she said. Robert tried to constrain his enthusiasm at the possibility that he might have a lead. He needed to ask a couple more questions to both make sure he wasn't going to get himself in trouble and that Mrs. Williams knew the risk she was taking. "Mrs. Williams, I really want to find Kyle. I think he is in danger. I care for him. Some of the things I did while I was undercover, well, the other officers might not let me continue working on this case if that got brought up," started Robert before he was cut off. "You don't be worried about that. The boy cared for you. If you had hurt him, I'd know. I see things. Some boys, well they almost girls. You ask me, he would have been better if he lived with you than his mother. Not my place though. Not my place to be saying anything about you neither," she said. Robert let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, ma'am. One more thing, if they threatened to kill you and your family, why are you willing to help me?" asked Robert. The old woman started to laugh softly, but soon her laughter turned into coughing. She grabbed a handkerchief and covered her mouth as she coughed. When she recovered, she gave Robert a bittersweet smile and said, "My family is already with the Good Lord, and when I stand before the Good Lord and my husband and my boy, I'd rather it be 'cause I tried to help save that sweet little boy, than 'cause the cancer finally got me."

Part 04

Authors/Take_Charge_Dad/Making-of-a-Slave-Boy/04-Interrogation-Making-of-a-Slave-Boy.txt

Daren Peters

Zack and Me

Zack needed a Daddy. His mom, Janice, was a total waste, 27 years old, mentally still a child, slightly overweight, and confused. She could barely hold a job and neglected her child without even realizing she was doing so. She just wasn't always in touch with reality. Zack, on the other hand, was alert, well developed, and starving for love. I met Janice when I stopped for gas and went in to pick up a six-pack. She was working the counter and could barely make proper change. I noticed a picture of a kid taped to the side of her register. He looked about 9 - just a little young for my tastes. "Who's the cute kid?" "That's my boy." "What's he, about 9?" "Was when I took the picture. He's 11 now." Hmm, instantly I was interested, very interested. I paid for my six-pack and started out the door. I paused and looked back in. "Say, you think he'd be interested in earning a little money? My car's filthy." "You want him to wash it?" "Yeah, if he's up to it. I'd pay him $20." I saw her dull eyes light up just as I had hoped. Janice got on the phone and called him. Two minutes of conversation and she wrote down an address and handed it to me. "His name's Zack. He's waiting for you." I felt Rodney jump. Oh, Rodney lives in my pants. He's my dick. I spend my life supporting him. He's a demanding bastard. Ten minutes later, I pulled up beside a 30-year-old trailer that had definitely seen better days. I did notice the grass around it had been recently mowed and there was no trash laying around other than a scrap heap of a car with dry rot flat tires and faded paint. Then I saw a boy. My god, a gorgeous boy. Eleven years old, Zack was blond but had a decent tan. He wore jeans that looked a little snug on him, high-top black sneakers, a grey t-shirt that had once been white, and a baseball cap worn backwards. That and a big smile. A slender boy, Zack stood about 5 feet tall. He was beautiful. Full lips, well-shaped nose, ears lying flat against his young head, eyes that sparkled with his smile. Rodney wanted to kiss him. Rodney's like that and damn if I can control him. "You Zack?" "Yeah. Mommy said you needed me to wash your car. You really pay me $20?" I nodded and smiled back at the boy. "Wow. Thanks. I really need the cash and I promise I'll do a good job..." He babbled on for a minute, climbing into the passenger seat. I wanted to hug him but partially ignored him and headed the half-hour drive to my house. I let him sit there, probably wondering where we were going. We drove up the hills to my neighborhood, not the greatest area but miles ahead of what the child was used to seeing. I parked just outside the garage and helped set up the washing materials. I left him to work and went inside. I watched out the window as the boy stripped off his faded t-shirt and went to work. OK, I admit it. I jacked off looking at him and hoped we could get something going but didn't want to rush it. Half an hour later, Zack knocked on my side door. "I'm done. You wanna take a look?" I followed him and inspected his work, pointing out a couple of places he'd missed. "You're all sweaty. You need a shower. Come on in." I took the kid to my bathroom off my bedroom. I showed him how to operate the multi-faucet shower and left him to it. I could hear him singing, obviously enjoying the experience. The moment I heard the water shut off, I was there. "I forgot to get you a towel." I opened the shower door with a fluffy white towel in hand. My heart jumped when I saw that his dick was standing up hard and proud. He instantly covered himself with both hands and blushed red. The split second I was able to see it showed it was maybe 4 inches long, slender, and cut. "No worries, Zack. I'm a guy, too. You don't need to hide yourself from me." His shoulders dropped a bit and I saw him relax a bit. "Yeah, but it got hard." "What got hard? Your dick?" He nodded. "Zack, that's nothing to hide. Here, let me see it." He looked confused. "You want to see my dick?" "Sure. It's no big thing. All boys and men have dicks. Don't you want to see mine?" He looked up at me curiously. "You mean you'd let me see yours?" I nodded. "Sure I would. All boys and men are curious about other guys, didn't you know that?" I don't think he did. "Wait. Zack, you don't have a Daddy, do you?" He looked down, at last dropping his hands to his sides. His pretty little dick dropped at the same time, shriveling to its sleeping state. He shook his head. "I never had a Dad." I saw him shudder a bit, wondering if he was near to crying. I reached for him and took the naked boy into my arms and hugged him, keeping my hands to his shoulders and upper back. We hugged. I took his head in my hands and tilted his face up to me. I gently kissed his lips. They felt cool and soft. I let the kiss linger. We broke the kiss but he didn't pull away. "Do you need a Daddy, Zack?" He burst into tears and pulled me to him, laying his wet head on my chest. We held each other for a moment. I felt his dick rise up and press against my leg. I led the child to my bed and sat beside him, his little dick sticking up straight. I desperately wanted to take it in my mouth and make love to it. I held back, knowing I had to restrain myself. My arm wrapped around his shoulders, hugging him to me. "Would you like to be my boy?" He looked up at me. I could see the struggle within him. I knew he feared being hurt but longed to believe. He crawled into my lap and looked up at me. "Would you kiss me again?" I lowered my lips to his and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around my neck and pressed against me with building passion. I knew he felt my cock pushing against his bare legs. "Zack, I think you and I can be Daddy and son if you want us to be. But I can't do that if your Mommy says no. And I have to tell you, I don't know her and I don't really think I would want to live with her." "You want me to live with you, Daddy?" Damn. He called me Daddy. I wanted to eat him alive. Two weeks later, Zack was putting away the new clothes we had bought for him. We'd decorated his new room in a soccer theme, his bed laying against the wall with a colorful goal surrounding it. I could easily afford the $250 a month I pay his mom. She had taken only a couple of days to decide to "rent" him to me. She hadn't given up custody yet but the extra money was being used to buy drugs. It wouldn't be long before she forgot about him all together. I still had done nothing to challenge the boundaries. Zack liked being held and kissed and I hoped he would like doing all the great things I had planned but I had to let him come to me. My greatest fear was that I would overstep some boundary and chase the boy away. My stepdad called on Friday, asking if I could open up their mountain house for them, as they'd be coming back from Europe about the first of July. Zack was out of school and was eager to go with me, of course. He'd become my constant companion. It was a four-hour drive to Asheville then another hour up the mountain to the lake. Their mountain house sits on the 4th green of a golf course, a swift running creek separating the properties. I'd bought Zack shorts to wear for the trip and a Speedo to wear for the indoor pool at the complex. We stopped for gas on the way and went in to buy some junk food. I saw Zack looking at Playboy magazines. "You want me to buy a Playboy for us?" "Would you, Daddy?" I bought the magazine, happy to see him interested in the centerfold. He leaned against me in the car, thumbing through the pages. "Wow. Look at that, Daddy." He kept pointing out pictures that displayed girls' pussies. "Does that make your dick hard, son?" "Well, yeah, Daddy. See?" He dropped the magazine down and showed me the tent in his pants. "Tell you what, son. Slip off your shorts and you can play with it. It'll make the pics more enjoyable." "You mean it, Daddy? I can play with it?" "Sure, son. Here. I'll show you how." My wet dreams were about to come true. He lifted up and shoved his shorts and underwear to his ankles. "Is it OK if I touch it?" I asked. "Sure, Daddy. You can touch it." I had his tiny dick in my hand. It felt wonderful. Two months before his twelfth birthday, I had the boy half naked and I was touching his hard little dick with his permission. I gently rocked my hand, slowly masturbating him. I touched his tight ball sack, gently feeling the pea-sized contents. I held his hard dick in my hand. "That feels good, Daddy. Do it some more." I wasn't about to stop. Well, I wasn't about to stop touching him. I wanted to stop the car and eat him but I kept driving. A little later, we reached the house. A modified A-frame, the 4-bedroom, 5-bath house was not exactly a little cabin in the woods. It was a mansion. I wished it were mine but it was far too remote for my tastes.It would be perfect for what I had planned. We worked most of the afternoon on clean-up, dusting away cobwebs that had accumulated over the winter, washing and replacing bed linens, all those things required to make the house ready. Around 4 in the afternoon, we took a break. "We're all sweaty. Let's take a shower." "Can we take one together, Daddy?" I held his naked body tightly against mine, his round buttocks in my hands, our bodies slippery from soap, both of our penises at full mast, his against my leg, mine hitting him just above mid-chest. I bent and kissed him, our tongues dancing together finally. The boy was alone with me now, alone well away from anyone, and he was mine. His young body glistened with the soapy water. I lightly ran my hands over his back, down his buttocks, down to his ankles. My face was at his penis height. I looked up into his eyes and he nodded in understanding. I took it in my mouth, crushing it against the roof of my mouth with my tongue, circling the small head lovingly. Zack tilted his head back and shoved his pelvis against my face. He moaned. "Oh, Daddy. Oh my god. Unnnnnh" I thought the child was going to cum instantly. He slumped against the shower wall, holding onto my head, pulling me with him. "Oh, god, Daddy. Oh god." He started humping, pulled my head tighter against his crotch, fucking my mouth. "Don't stop Daddy, please don't stop, Daddy." I struggled to keep him from pulling out too far, wanting to keep his pretty little penis in my mouth. I clenched his buttocks hard, one finger probing for his little brown button. I touched it. He lurched forward, "UNNNNNNNNHHHHHH, Oh, Daddy, don't stop, UNNNNHHHHHH" He spasmed twice more then his knees bent. I knew he had cum. There was no cum to taste so I knew it was a dry cum but at 11 years old I guess that's normal. I had sucked him off. Now it was my turn. When he had recovered, I picked him up with hardly any effort he was so small and carried his wet body to the bed, laying him on his back. I kissed his sweet lips, a slow loving kiss, then worked my way downward, his neck, his shoulders, I kissed his little dime-sized nipples and lingered a moment. Then his stomach, licking inside his belly button.... then I turned him over. His back, his buttocks, his upper thighs... I spread open his cheeks and saw his boy pussy for the first time. Pinkish-brown, hairless, and puckered. I barely touched it with my tongue. He jumped. "Is that OK, son?" "Yes, Daddy. It just surprised me, that's all. Are you going to fuck me?" "What made you think that?" "I saw it in a magazine, Daddy." "Do you want me to fuck you, son?" "Oh, yes, Daddy. I want it very much." Grabbing a tube of KY from my bag, I applied a generous glob to his anus. He squirmed a bit at the cold. More went on Rodney. "Get up on your knees and put your head down, son." He moved into position. I couldn't help but want to suck on his butthole again but knew I wouldn't like the taste of the lotion. I rubbed it with my index finger, probed slightly, then slowly inserted my finger. "Relax, son. Make it feel like you're going to pass a big turd. That'll open it up for you." I probed again and found it easy to stick my finger in him. I held still for a moment and let him relax. Another finger, again letting him become accustomed to the penetration. Rodney could wait no longer. I rubbed his crack from bottom to top, back down again. Three times I repeated the route, then paused at his rosebud. "Ready, son?" "Yes, Daddy." I pushed at the tiny opening, Zack pushed back as if taking a dump. The head popped in. "Oh, god, Daddy, stop!!!" I paused. Another few seconds and he was able to relax. Another push, more time to get used to the feeling. "OK, son, this will be it." I plunged my penis into the boy to the hilt. He flinched. "You OK, son?" "Yeah, I'm fine, Daddy. It really doesn't hurt like I thought it would." "I love you, Zack." "I love you, too, Daddy." "Do you want me to fuck you?" "Yes, Daddy. Fuck me." We stayed in the mountains for three days, finally going back home. I don't know how many times we made love but it was a lot. On the third time we fucked, we both had orgasms. Zack no longer sleeps in his soccer bed. He sleeps with his Daddy. We haven't seen his Mommy in over a year now and we never even talk about her anymore.

Authors/Daren_Peters/Zack was 11, Mb, ped, oral, anal, cons.txt

John D

New Secrets VII

Zoe had barely stopped pacing up and down the living room carpet, much to Rhea's glee. My little sister didn't know too much about Zoe's uncle, and Zoe happily filled in the details for her and Simon, while she ranted for almost an hour. "And he is so perverted. And he is going out with a University student. And..." "He isn't that bad," I told Simon. "Good fun, good sense of humour. Kind heart." "Kind heart? He films dirty stuff." She screwed up her face, and I reached across to the television to flick the PlayStation on. "Let's have a race," I suggested, but Zoe wasn't interested; in the end, I got Rhea to have a game - on the condition that I lost, but our hollering was loud enough to make Zoe's rantings impossible to be heard, so she stopped. Neil appeared in the doorway of the flat with Mum late-afternoon, and he looked at Zoe and Simon - now racing each other. They hadn't noticed him, and I saw a smile come over his face as he watched his niece and nephew battle around the course. He leaned against the doorway, rubbing his nose, and caught Zoe's eye as she crossed the finishing line. "Hiya Simon." Simon looked up and bit his lip. "Hi," he muttered. "Coming for tea as well?" "I got to get home," he told him, a little nervously, and looked behind him towards my sister. "We are going at five." Neil tried hard to smile, but everyone in the room knew that Simon's excuse was just that - an excuse - and he was somewhat apprehensive about spending time with his errant relative. "Sure," Neil said with a wave of the hand. "Next time." "Yeah," Simon said, a bit too quickly. "Next time." Zoe was still apprehensive herself, but had rung her mother to say that she would be eating here, and without too much fuss, we left the flat in near silence. I asked Zoe if she wanted to be alone, but she shook her head and grabbed hold of my hand. We settled for the Italian restaurant on the corner of the road, and we were seated in an alcove at the back. Neil took one look at the menu and hummed. "Only Lanson," he moaned when he saw the sole entry under Champagne. "It's not right," I teased and looked at Zoe. "We come, and every time we want a Moët and Chandon, and we just have to make do with a Lanson." Neil shook his head. "A Pol Roger wouldn't go amiss," he said as he licked his lips. "And it's Moët, not Maw-ah." I blinked, and he smiled. "The company may be French, but the founder was Dutch." Zoe fidgeted and looked up at him. "Any chance of just getting the normal stuff for a change? Or even just a bottle of wine? Or water?" Neil smiled. "You haven't changed," he told her. "You are so like little Emma. Bossy, self-assured." Zoe's shoulders dropped, and she crossed her arms. "You have subjected me to a live sex show." "Yeah, and don't tell Sarah," I joked "She already wants your job!" Zoe's frown eased, and she picked up the menu. Neil did ask if they had any non-listed champagnes - and subsequently ordered a Taittinger from the four bottles behind the counter. Zoe shook her head, and I ordered a calzone, Zoe requested a salad, and Neil asked for the most expensive pasta dish on the menu. The waiter asked for the payment for the champagne up-front, and Neil passed him three notes to cover it and the meal. He looked a little flustered as the millionaire opened his bulging wallet but took the money and gave us funny looks all meal. It was noticeable that our food arrived remarkably quickly and was of an excellent standard! Neil was keen to wring some conversation out of Zoe and poured her a glass of champagne, although she was hesitant about taking. "And you can't drink, you're driving," she told him firmly, and he gave a titter. "I can have two." "Two?" Zoe cried. "One!" "OK then. Only if you drink the rest," he replied with a smirk, and then looked at me. "You two drink the rest." Zoe groaned, and he shrugged. "Unless you want me to have an accident." Zoe bit her lip and sighed. "You can be so difficult at times," she moaned. Neil and I had a glass and a half each, and Zoe must have had around double that. We didn't have a starter, but all had a main course, dessert, and then coffees before Neil refused any sort of payment towards the bill. "It's good to see you," he said airily and then took a deep breath and pulled a small bag from his pocket. "I got something to show you." He passed the package over to Zoe, who peered inside. "I go to the Maldives in two weeks and am taking that." Zoe took out a small cube, and I knew instantly that it was a ring. "An engagement ring?" "I am going to ask Emma to marry me." Zoe cooed as she opened the box and rubbed her face. "It's fifty grand of love there," he told her, and I could see Zoe wanting to tell him that love and money shouldn't be in the same sentence. There were easily a dozen diamonds in a floral pattern around a big diamond and numerous even smaller ones dotted around. "When we get back, there'll be an engagement party if she says yes. You come?" Zoe was transfixed by the diamond ring and blinked. "And if she says no, I'll let you have it," he teased. Zoe's hands were shaking, and she put it back down on the table. I asked him why he carried it around with him, and he chortled, replying that Emma was cleaning his house while he was away and didn't want her to find it. "I'll come," she whispered hoarsely and passed the ring box to him. "You gonna tell Mum?" "She won't come," Neil told her and ordered us dessert wines with our coffee as the waiter walked past. The wine was sweet, but Zoe drank hers all too quickly and then took Neil's from him as he was driving. The tall pornographer just smiled at her, and we walked back to our flat; it was dark, and I took him around the side to get to his car; the rest of his entourage had come in two minibuses that had driven up separately and had now departed. "I'll drive you home," he offered Zoe and opened the door to his Ferrari.I shook hands with him and watched as my slightly drunk friend fell into his car with glazed eyes. She was quiet and was doing just as he suggested. Zoe was very easy to control when she had had a drink, just like when she got drunk in the summer holidays, which was a stark difference to the excitable Sarah or her exhibitionist brother. Mum was waiting for me as I came up the fire escape and told me to sit down on the sofa. "Been drinking again?" "Only a glass," I moaned. "Zoe's uncle took us to the restaurant." She wiped her hands on her top and stretched her legs on the sofa. "Well, I did say you were grounded, didn't I?" "I'm an adult," I moaned. "I can't be grounded." Mum's expression hardened, and she rubbed her hands. "But you can be sacked," she said firmly, and I just groaned. "OK, I'm sorry. But Zoe asked me to go, and she doesn't have a good relationship with her uncle. I was going out to help someone else." Mum snorted, and I crossed my arms. "Will you relent over Tuesday? I like to see Sarah play football." "Yes," Mum contemptuously muttered. "If Sarah is allowed to attend." I huffed and got up, scowling, and Mum waited for me to get to the bottom of the stairs. "If you stopped drinking when you shouldn't, I wouldn't have to punish you." I sneered; I was an adult, way too old to be "grounded." Life was not fair. * * * * * I was just finishing the last of my morning coffee when two faces appeared talking to each other. Zoe was slightly pale, and they crossed the room to talk to me. "Hiya. How are you?" "Fine," Sarah bubbled and felt in my jacket pocket. "I need a drink and..." I passed her two pound coins and looked at Zoe. "Strong black coffee?" Sarah enquired, and she nodded, before slouching in the chair. "I bet you know what happened," Zoe muttered and looked at me. "Ummm... well, I reckon you were a bit tipsier by the time you got home, and your mum wasn't too impressed with Neil." "She hit him," Zoe said - her voice quiet and muted, and she wiped her eyes. "For me drinking alcohol and ummm... well, just coming to her house." "Wow. Shit. That's bad." "Yeah," Zoe muttered and took the steaming drink from Sarah's hand. "And I blame you as well as him." "What? For making you see your family. I'm such a bastard!" "No," Zoe cried. "He might be my uncle, but he's... immoral." "Then you know why we get on so well!" Zoe snorted. "And why did I have to drink all the champagne?" I was saved from answering that by the bell, and we trooped off for registration and then Miss Edwards's Maths class. Unsurprisingly, Zoe looked pale and barely contributed to the lesson. I generously made two sets of notes from the examples when I saw Zoe struggling and gave them to her afterwards. "I've got English now," my blonde friend moaned, and she dragged her feet as she ambled towards the English block. "We have a free," I told my girlfriend. "And the General Studies before lunch. We could sneak off to the cinema, or we could..." Sarah giggled. "Or we could find an unused classroom," she suggested and pulled me through the rain towards the playground and around the side of the hall. "Where?" "Music." "Why?" "Because there is no glass in the doors," she told me as she ran into the downpour. "You want to get caught?" "We could just go back to my flat," I suggested, and Sarah looked at me with wet hair plastered to her head. "Take a risk," she teased, and we entered the Music block, which was suspiciously quiet. She put her ear to a door of a practice room. "It's empty." "Sarah," I cried, but she pushed open the door to the glorified stationery cupboard, and we entered the white-washed room. A window opened out onto the playground of the school next door, and I saw Rhea dressed in her PE skirt stretching with Becky and a couple of girls I didn't recognize. Sarah closed the door and pushed me onto one of the two chairs. She smiled and kicked off her shoes, her trousers, and then pulled her knickers down, glaring at me. "Come on. We've not all day." "So romantic," I teased and undid the shoelaces holding my footwear on my feet. Sarah groaned as I tucked my socks into my shoes and pulled my trousers down. "Come on," she hissed. "You could've left your socks on." "Is this a good idea?" I asked as her fingers reached the waistband of my boxer shorts. She sighed and stared into my eyes. "Can you feel it? The thrill of it all." She was right, of sorts, as my boxer shorts reached my ankles, I felt butterflies in the pit of my stomach. We were risking a degree of trouble from the College by having any sort of sexual relations on the campus, but that didn't stop Sarah; she was insatiable and had a wicked gleam in her eye. Sarah touched me on the nose and started grinding her hips into me, slowly unbuttoning her blouse. She bit her lip and gave me a sultry look. "What are you doing?" "A striptease," she said gleefully and pushed her blouse off and then sat on my lap, rocking back and forth on my thighs. I unclipped her bra and watched the fabric fall away as she turned around again. She was naked, except for her red socks, and she looked wonderfully sexy; I cooed at her and pulled her onto the carpet. She kissed me as I lay her gently on the floor and smiled at her. "Does Miss Bailey require a kiss?" Sarah nodded and pouted, but I gently parted her thighs and kissed the top of her smooth sex. She sighed and pushed her hips up further and allowed me access to her moistening slit. She smelt and tasted just as I remembered and passionately licked her slit up and down. She whimpered and ground her hips back into the thin blue carpet. I parted her legs with my palms and lay down on the floor so that my legs were touching the wall on the other side of the room, and ran my tongue around her sex. She mewled and panted as my fingers slid up into her slippery hole and pressed against her vaginal wall. I sucked on her pearl, massaging it with my lips as my fingers energetically flicked and pressed against her insides. She moaned louder and grabbed my hair, pressing my face into her cunt. "Oh yeah, oh... oh..... aggghhh," she exclaimed with every exhalation and gulped, swearing loudly and vocally. One benefit to the practice rooms was that there was a degree of sound proofing to them, but anyone listening in at the door would know exactly what Sarah was experiencing. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach but couldn't stop, Sarah would not forgive me! I sucked on her button harder and pressed against her firmer, causing her eyes to fly open and to push her head back. Her legs began to shudder, and she screamed out, crying loudly as my lips brought her to a quivering orgasm and her legs pressed against my head. She panted and squealed and then reached down to push my head away. "No," she muttered as I wiped my face and rubbed my hand on the carpet, before sliding up the floor to be in the missionary position. I put her ankles on my shoulders and moved my hips forward to slide my erect, and leaking cock into her sopping pussy. She groaned as I made contact with her slick orifice, and it met no resistance as it slid in. She smiled at me and closed her eyes, rocking her hips in time with my rhythm. Sarah squeezed my thighs as I powered into her unguarded cunt, but was whimpering and groaning with every thrust. "I love you," I whispered, and she smiled. "Ahh God!" She cried back and gulped as her breathing became more ragged. She was tight, and it felt unbelievable; my heart was still pounding due to the taboo of having sex in a classroom that looked out over the playground - although we were well below the window line. We kissed as I pushed into her and dropped my hips slightly as I withdrew to change the angle slightly. She grunted and rubbed my back, but I was nearing the point of no return and screwed up my face. I slowed down to try and prolong the sex, but Sarah was just too tight with her ankles to high heaven, and it felt so good. I grunted, and my testicles tightened; the pressure and tension desperate for an outlet. I tried to resist, holding on to my orgasm for as long as I could, and closed my eyes as I swore. With a final thrust, I held my cock into her and squirted several streams of cum inside her. Sarah sighed and gave me a wide smile. "Love you," she muttered, and I moved in for a kiss. We stayed together, joined by my withering and leaking cock, for a minute, kissing and fondling as my body soaked up every last spark of sexual energy from our liaison. Sarah pulled out a small bag of baby wipes and cleaned herself and then me with a wet wipe that caused my cock to stiffen again. "Later," she teased and kissed the end. Sarah got up and remained on the right side of the room, away from the window, but I saw her there, her damp hair frizzy and messed up, and pushed her against the wall, kissing her. I was dressed in just my shirt that I had not taken off, and she wrapped her arms around me to return the meaningful snog. We heard some laughing and tapping on the window and looked down to see a couple of Rhea's class coming towards the window; I had misjudged where I was kissing her and pushed her against the window and not the wall, displaying her bare back and rear to the Year 10 football class. I frantically pulled the blind down (why didn't we think of this before) and hissed at Sarah. "Quick." I tripped over putting my boxer shorts and trousers on, and slid my bare feet into my shoes, but Sarah had still not put her knickers or black trousers on, and I just stuffed her knickers into her bag. We ran out of the practice room and took a different route, but I caught sight of Rhea and Becky watching in our direction, and we made it to the Common Room in time for us to get dressed properly. We said nothing to Zoe, but Sarah moaned that she had "leaked" into her knickers during General Studies, and I wrote her a love poem.It was a sickly sweet thing to do, and I knew I was opening myself up for ridicule, but it caused her to smile when I passed it to her. Zoe was still feeling rough, so we walked her home at lunchtime; Emma asked me some extremely pointed questions about Neil. I think she suspected that I was complicit in her daughter getting too tipsy, but Neil had bought the champagne and poured it - not to mention the dessert wine and coffee liqueurs. The rest of the day skipped past; Sarah and I held hands as we walked back from town but had to spend the afternoon apart due to our different lessons. Rhea teased us as we entered the flat. "Is that... no, that isn't... oh, it is Sarah. Sorry, I didn't recognize you with your clothes on and not pressed against a window." "Not us," I said instantly. "What's not you?" Rhea asked instantly. "We didn't have sex in the Music rooms." "Who said anything about the Music rooms?" Rhea asked, her eyes twinkling, and Simon touched her on the knee. "It's okay. I've not told anyone," she promised and giggled at our blushing. "Just as long as Simon and I get tomorrow afternoon to ourselves." Sarah and I nodded; I had to clean the club. "Sure," I told her and offered her my hand to shake on the "deal." "Fuck off!" Rhea cried. "I know exactly where your hand's been." I was just finishing the last of the tables when Mum appeared with two women and a gentleman. "Well, obviously," Mum said, "I was planning to do this mid-afternoon. We can have everything on stage, the kids will get a drink each." She saw the look on the youngest woman's face and added, "Lemonade, of course. And get a bag with the materials in. I can get some of my girls around to talk if you want." The pair looked around the space and nodded. "It's better than the little hall we normally have to use," the guy said and then turned to Mum. "And this would be funded by yourselves?" Mum swallowed some water from her glass and nodded. "Of course. We've always wanted to give something back to the Community," she sweetly said. "But Mr. Jones suggested this fitted in quite nicely with our aims and what you would require." The gentleman took a deep breath and looked around. "I must admit," he said, "I've never been in. I was expecting pictures of naked women and all sorts, but it's very tastefully decorated." Mum bit her lip and the woman glanced over at me. "And clean. I mean, we would need to clear it with our manager, but I can't see a problem. This room holds what? Three fifty? Four hundred?" Mum nodded and gestured towards the bar, offering the three representatives from the charity a drink. "You said you had over a thousand kids you wanted to offer these presentations and videos to, I would need to run them on different days. I have a bouncer who I will get in, and I presume teachers as well?" The gentleman nodded and then looked at his companions. I think Mum detected a desire from them to want to be alone for a moment, and said she would give them a few moments to talk. She walked over to me and asked if I was finished, and if I was, could I please put the lasagne in the fridge in the oven. I nodded towards the three suited employees. "That sexual health thing, you holding it here?" Mum gave a smile. "Possibly. It's a better venue, and it saves me money. The packs that they need to put together is ten grand, although I can put my logo on them alongside theirs." I gave a laugh. "So come here to learn about sex. Why not send your parents here for the evening?" Mum forced a smile. "It's a voluntary thing for your age group so I wouldn't get so smug." I laughed. "Ah, well. My mother spends all evening at the club anyway." Mum pouted and gestured towards the back door. "Go on, Rhea will be home soon, and I need dinner on. I'll be home in thirty minutes." "Sarah has football practice," I said, and Mum glanced over at me. "Can we have ours when we get back?" Mum reluctantly agreed, and I put my cleaning stuff back in the cupboard before running outside and up the fire escape. There was the unmistakable sound of Rhea as I entered the house; she had been home alone since 3 pm, and presumably had Simon with her. The screaming and crying as Simon did something to her echoed down the corridor, and I gave a smile - she had the cheek to moan about me. I walked quietly down the corridor and tapped sharply on Rhea's door. "Mum'll be home soon," I warned. "You might want to finish up." I heard some swearing from the other side of the door and then Rhea chastise Simon for something. I skipped downstairs and put dinner into the oven before running out the front door to meet Sarah at her football club. Sarah threw her arms around me the moment she saw me. The coach, a stout woman, had Sarah do extra laps of the pitch as she was "out of condition" after Sarah had tired in the last few minutes of their recent game, and then had them passing the ball from one side of the pitch to the other. It amazed me, Sarah never made a mistake as pass after pass, at least forty or fifty feet, landed at her teammates' feet with unerring accuracy. Every time she kicked the ball, she glanced over to me and smiled. The weather was beginning to turn, and a few drops of rain had fallen, but she clearly appreciated that I had come to watch her play football. I liked to watch Sarah, she was a good player, but I saw a side of her I didn't usually see. Sarah was fairly confident normally, but on the pitch, she was possessed with supreme self-belief and did everything in an assured way. She never even batted an eyelid as she danced around a tackle or crossed the ball from one side of the pitch to another; just about everything she attempted was executed with incredible precision. She was the best player on that pitch, and she knew it. By the time Sarah had finished, the drops of rain had turned into a torrent of water. I didn't see Mark and asked Sarah about him. "Amy said her mother had a new bloke," she replied, and I just shrugged; I would almost have uncharitably guessed that. I offered Sarah my coat, but she declined, and I had to get her to take it quite forcibly. She smiled as I slid it over her bare arms, and she glanced at my moistening white T-shirt. "Aren't you cold?" "I'll be fine," I replied quickly before my teeth started to chatter. I returned home with Sarah, who dutifully stripped at the bottom of the stairs and ran naked through the lounge (containing Rhea, Simon, and Mum) towards the shower. Rhea gave me raised eyebrows as Sarah shot through, and Mum joined me in the kitchen as I cut up some salad to go with the last of the lasagne, currently in the warm oven. "Hey, bro, how do you do standard deviation?" Rhea asked as I chopped the cucumber, and I glanced over at Mum filling the kettle. Mum shrugged. "I missed that out of my education," she said with a smile, and I promised my baby sister that I would show her later. Mum waited for Rhea to leave the room and watched as I started on the tomato. "How's Sarah?" "Oh, she is okay. Training was good," I muttered. "Got some homework tonight though. Due in tomorrow." Mum gave a smile. "Well, if your job is getting in the way..." "It's not," I snapped. "I just need to do it, that's all. Time management, I think they call it!" My mother chuckled. "I saw something I never thought I'd see when I got back home." I froze, was Rhea still having sex when Mum walked through the door? There wasn't shouting, so either Mum was relaxed about it, or they had already had their yelling. "Rhea was at the dining table doing her homework with Simon." I suppressed a relieved smile, and Mum grinned. "Yeah, well, it had to happen eventually." "I know, but I am used to having to bully her. She came home and just did it, with Simon. I'm amazed." I pushed my lips together to stop myself from laughing at my mother's unintentional double entendre, but as I was hunched over the worktop, she didn't see or notice my strange facial expression. "I think I would be too." Sarah and I ate the lasagne, and I washed the plates while Sarah and Mum chatted; Mum certainly liked Sarah, and there was no tension in the room. I knew Donna never actually got on that well with Ray's family, and it caused a degree of problems, so I was lucky that my problems extended no further than Rhea. I had some Economics work to do and blazed through it at the dining table while Sarah completed her Biology essay, and by the time mid-evening approached, Sarah gave me a wink. "Finished?" I looked at the last Economics question. "Yeah," I told her. "I can be." I packed my belongings in my bag and left it by the side of the dining room next to Sarah's schoolbag, and we hurriedly said goodnight to Rhea - still struggling with standard deviation - and Mum, who had a night off work. Sarah and I embraced the moment we closed the door to my bedroom, and Sarah frantically stripped off her outer clothes. I undid her bra while I had my arms around her, and she unclipped my belt, letting my trousers fall to the ground. I ran my hands over her body and threw her onto the bed, throwing my T-shirt onto my desk, and she laughed as I jumped onto the bed alongside her. She took my erect cock in her hand and began to gently stroke it. I put my finger on her slit, and Sarah moaned as I circled her button with my finger. She blew me a kiss and moved her thumb over my glans. "That's nice," I muttered when the door opened. "Just one thing I don't get with this standard deviation," my little sister said as she burst into the room. "Oh, put that tart down, you've no idea where she's been." "Rhea," I cried. "Get the fuck out." Sarah ran her hands down my shaft, and I groaned as Rhea stood in the doorway. "Well, I can wait," she teased and then her eyes dropped. "I only need you for two minutes." "Get out," I snapped, and Rhea slammed my door. Sarah took her hands from my manhood and shook her head."Go help her," she told me. "We've got all evening. And she'll only go and moan to Grace." "Sometimes I bloody hate her," I moaned; Rhea had interrupted my sex with my girlfriend for some basic math problem. I washed my hands and put my dressing gown over me but deliberately left my erect cock visible as a stark reminder that she had interrupted my love life. Rhea was unrepentant as expected and told me "to put the bloody thing away," which I did as Mum looked on from the lounge. I guided Rhea through the three questions she couldn't do and then looked at her, muttering quietly. "Can I go now?" "Yes," Rhea hissed, and I returned to the bedroom to find a naked Sarah with her hands on my portfolio. "Can I?" "No," I panicked; there were naked pictures of her mother at a swinging party in my collection that Sarah knew nothing about, and I guided my playful partner back to the bed. "I'm not sure I'm in the mood," Sarah teased, and then got very much in the mood when I offered to go down on her. I positioned my pulchritudinous lover on top as I joyfully sucked in her musky scent. She relaxed her muscles, and her weight came down a little more on top of me, but she smelt and tasted divine. I always loved the experience of going down on Sarah, and she groaned loudly as I sucked on her exposed button. I ran my tongue up and down her slit as she leant forward slightly, and my hands played with her nipples and pushed up on her body to right her. If Sarah made any effort to conceal her orgasm, then she failed as she squealed and screamed just as loudly as ever, her hips bucking and rocking as my tongue swirled around her button. I felt drops of our juices run down my face and soak into my chin and hair, but Sarah was gorgeous and fragrant. She leant forward to get a better grip of my cock, and all I could see was her puckering rosebud; 69 does not give the best views! I worked my tongue over her clit and feasted on her crevice for her to have three more climaxes, each one stronger than the last. Sarah tried to move off of me, but I used my hands to hold her down and slid my rolled tongue into her hole; she squealed and rocked her hips. I felt so comfy and safe as I slid my tongue up and down her slick runway. She squealed and cried out, begging me to make her come. I knew she wanted me to suck on her clit, but I deliberately avoided it until she was almost crying. She leant forward and gobbled my cock into her mouth and sucked the tip with wild abandon. I cried into her shaven crotch and dug my fingertips into her thigh; it was an intense feeling, and I was nearing my own climax in no time. I extended my tongue and wrapped it around her pearl and then put my lips around it, sucking it furiously. Sarah squealed onto my cock and slumped against it, as her legs shook and her body tensed. Her squeals were yells as her fingernails were wrapped around my thigh, and I just kept sucking on her button. I couldn't make out what she was saying, but she was screaming in impassioned lust that I was causing. I pressed my lips against her clit, and her fingers gripped my legs again, and her rosebud flexed. I could feel her muscles quivering, and her cries filled the room, even through her thighs that were pressed against my ears. She moved her crotch away from me and looked down at my sodden face. "Oh shit," she cried. "That was ..." I moved forward and slid my tongue down her sodden slit, but she just laughed and moved it. "No, I can't." Sarah smiled and kissed the tip of my cock before sliding her hand down to the shaft and taking the tip in her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue around it. My breathing became ragged, and I pushed back in the bed, enjoying the expert blowjob that Sarah was happily providing. I sighed loudly as I neared orgasm and cried out to Sarah, but, as usual, she just increased her pace and kept up with my bucking hips and bobbing cock. I felt the pressure in my balls intensify and gulped. I tensed my buttocks and gasped as I felt a pressure valve be lifted, and a few waves of cum were pumped into Sarah's teenage mouth. She coughed as I finished; I think I must have hit the back of her throat, but she swallowed and just sucked the tip of my cock. "Love you," I cried as another aftershock hit me, and Sarah just giggled. Ray tapped his fingers on the glass of the bus, and I snapped at him for the umpteenth time. "Calm down." He sighed and went to biting his nails and then fiddling with his camera case. We had taken the "other" train out of Aylesbury that connected our town with the main line at High Wycombe - a large sprawling town on the Motorway just outside London, and were now speeding through the lunchtime Friday traffic on a smelly bus with a dozen poorly dressed people around us. We were nervous as we both had all our expensive camera gear by our sides, and Ray was worried about everything - he was in a strange town, surrounded by people he didn't like the look of, carrying his pride and joy in his hand and was about to start shooting for a sex shoot. My friend was a wreck! We reached our stop in the west of the town centre five minutes later, and I pulled out a battered piece of paper from my pocket; I had some rough directions, and we strode into a small industrial estate, surrounded by vans, workmen and activity. The little unit my "friend" had rented (or bought) was unlocked, and we nervously strode into the large room calling out for "Mike." "Hiya boys," a voice cried, and my heart pumping ten to the dozen spun around to see a bald man - easily in his thirties - dressed in a large T-shirt and shorts. "Come on through. You've got a change of clothes." "Yeah," I said airily and put my backpack down. I held out my hand to shake his, and he stopped, giving a wry giggle. "Hey, we don't shake hands in porn. I know where they've been!" I muttered an insincere apology, but Mike knew I clearly didn't mean it and showed us through into the big warehouse. He had "decorated" it well and had on three of the walls, brightly coloured sheeting on the wall and floors, with an assortment of bare wooden chairs, tables and other furniture. He told me that he was doing a "WAM" shoot, but I had no idea what it was, and Ray asked what I was thinking. Mike blew air through his lips at Ray's question and hummed confidently. "It's for a sploshing mag. Got this off me mate, it's empty and got it for fifty notes." He shrugged and smiled. "'E's security guard. Girls'll be 'ere soon. Wifey's pickin' 'em up. We'll do custard pies in faces, gunge over head. Messy wrestling. Dirty spanking, that sort of thing." "Oh, like mud," I blurted out, thinking back to Abi in the mud wrestling pit. "That'll be cool." "No mud." He said. "We don't use mud. It's food. Been down to Cash 'n' Carry to stock up." We watched as he got his camera out and looked at us. "Olivia said you took great photos. I've done it before, but they moaned at the quality, and I made a shit profit. I'm 'oping you boys can bring 'ome the bacon." "No pressure then," Ray muttered, and I took out eight films from my bag. I had given Ray an overview of what I had done in the club, and with Holly at the Landmark Hotel, and while he heard, he wasn't sure he was really listening. His eyes kept wandering to Mike who was setting up the first set with a giant tub of baked beans and a seat. Eight girls turned up a few moments later, and Mike's wife came over and took the camera from him. Mike then walked over to the girls and introduced us as the "photographers who'll make you famous." This was stretching it a bit, but all of the girls were in tight shorts or T-shirts, and they looked sexy. They also didn't look much older than us! Ray licked his lips, and I told him to put his eyes back in! The first scene didn't involve the baked beans, but he passed over two policewomen outfits to the two tallest girls - a blonde-haired girl who looked a bit like Ingrid and a half-caste girl with black frizzy hair (a bit like Donna). Mike called us over, and we started taking photos, first of all with them clean and then as they traded creampies and then poured custard over each other. Mike was in his element, directing proceedings, and the remaining girls sat around watching as "Donna" and "Ingrid" coated each other in custard. I got "Ingrid" to sit in the chair and sit back, squeezing out the goo from her knickers and down her stockings while smiling at the camera, and Mike got "Donna" to coat her friend with more food. A redhead was then covered in a giant bucket of custard while dressed in a PVC catsuit, which collected in a paddling pool, which was then cue for "Ingrid" and "Donna" to join in. The sexiest scene, I thought, was when a girl was naked, covered head to toe in chocolate sauce and then spanked over a schoolgirl's knee, but we went through so much food, and both Ray and I slipped in the mess. Chrissie, Mike's wife, passed the camera to Mike and joined in, gleefully stripping naked to get dunked in custard. She was a plump lady, and when chocolate sauce was added over the top, she looked like a monster from the deep! I felt myself getting very hard as two eighteen-year-old school girls battled it out with baked beans, and little orange pellets went everywhere, hitting Ray before they hit me. I got some good "action" shots of the two, but I was surprised by the sexiness of it all. It was a million miles away from sex - there was some nakedness, but not all the girls were without clothes, and there was no penetration, just plenty of suggestion. I found it more arousing than some of the girls at the club doing their photo shoot, mostly because every girl being messed up was doing so with a giant smile on their face. It looked fun, and I almost wanted to join in but knew that I couldn't."Ingrid" was back from a quick shower and dressed in just cheap lingerie that was soon covered in green gunge. She had squirty cream sprayed in her shorts and then across her bosom before being thrown into the paddling pool of custard. The lighting wasn't perfect, and the slick bodies certainly reflected the light in all directions, but there was an attractiveness to it; shiny, smooth legs, covered with messy gooey substances that just oozed sex appeal and sensuality. Ray smiled at me; he was enjoying himself and was talking to a dirty young lady who then hugged him when he put his camera down. I couldn't help but grin and used up my film as Mike brought the shoot to a close. Ray and I had managed our film use well as I had told him how many pictures we had to take, and Mike told us of how many scenes were left. I didn't need a shower, but I wanted to change my trousers before we went home as girls ran back to the small portable shower in the corner of the room. I knew it wasn't cold water, but the heating must have been on its "last legs" as it was not overly warm, judging by some of the squeals from the young ladies we had just photographed. Mike took the five rolls of film from me with the three from Ray and put them in his little bag. He had two from Chrissie that was now busy washing her hair in the small portable shower in the corner of the room. "Better be OK," he mused. "Mag said they'd take all the pics if they're good." I fidgeted slightly, but I knew they should be of a good quality. I had paid attention to what Olivia had said and had confidence in my work. "What's the deal here?" I asked as Ray joined the girls in queuing for the shower. They rubbed their naked bodies alongside him to mess him up and caught him disappearing between a pair of chocolate thighs and two pairs of custard breasts. Mike gave me a wry smile. "They're college girls," he told me. "Mostly eighteen plus but ... well, that's what they tell me. They look it, and I try not to ask for proof, but they sign to say they are. But they get twenty, thirty, forty quid for four hours work, they jump at that. And then there's you two at one twenty. Another hundred on sheeting and supplies. Fifty for the building. Furniture came from the tip. But I could sell these pics for upwards of a grand to grand an' half to mag. Maybe two." I smiled at him, and he rubbed his hands. "A thousand?" "Yeah," he said confidently and lowered his voice. "At least. And wifey wants to buy an 'ouse. Every little 'elps, as they say." Mike was talkative, and as long as I helped him to clear up, I could chat. Ray - now clean and dry - was playing with his camera and talking to a half-naked girl while I pumped Mike for information. I had spent some time around Neil Pollitt, Zoe's uncle, when we went down and learnt a lot from him as to erotic photography, but Mike was a small-time pornographer who made the small sums work. "Simply put," Mike told me. "Ya just nee' to work awt what ya margins are. I mean, we dain't do gangbangs and shit cos it's done to 'igh 'eaven by the pro's. We just do the niche shit." "And it pays?" "It pays big time," he told me. "Long as ya keep ya costs short and ya income long." I offered him Ceri's phone number, and he gratefully took it. I had no doubt that she would happily consider a photo shoot if it involved her being paid, and Mike said he was always looking for new girls. I changed into my clean trousers before we were offered a lift back to the station, and we settled into the dilapidated minibus, both of us in between models - or "porn stars" to Ray - and made no attempt to be fine, upstanding young men. I tickled a long-haired girl who openly giggled and flirted while Ray was loud and brash; I had never seen him like that. "You have great knockers," my awkward friend told the girl whose lap he was almost on, which caused a barrage of laughter. Was it any wonder he was single with charm like that? Abi had promised us a particularly good film at the "Film Club," and there was an unusual amount of interest. Neither Sarah nor I had heard of it, but Zoe told us that it better not be as bad as "Showgirls," and Ingrid had seen it and wanted to see it again. I was a little surprised that the four of us could fit into Abi's room along with my Scottish friend and her housemate. Sarah had purchased some popcorn, but Abi didn't have a microwave, so she had to heat it on the pan. The pan Sarah had put the microwaveable popcorn into had a spout (it was a milk pan), and I got hit by an incoming piece of exploding popcorn as I entered the room. Sarah was genuinely amazed by the popping corn and hadn't put a large enough pan, so the lid rose above the pan due to the expansion of our snack. "This is so cool," Sarah shouted at me above the popping. "I so want to do this again." I left Sarah with the impending mess - I was acutely reminded of a fable called "The Magic Porridge Pot," only Sarah's tale would be the "The Tiny Popcorn Pan" - but she returned into the lounge a few moments later with two bowls of slightly burned microwaveable popcorn. The Story of O - as a name - meant nothing to any of us, but we each put in a pound on the little pot on the television and sat down with a drink each and some popcorn. Angela came to join us just as Abi wound the tape back, and I settled in with Sarah between my open legs. She rubbed her body up and down and was quite glad when Abi turned off the lights. We were at the back of the room, so no one was directly in front of us, and I was the only guy in the room, but Ingrid and Zoe were sat together with Angela and Abi both having the chairs. It was a dark film, and the first scene of "O" being told to remove clothes before going into the house, being subjected to pain and non-consensual penetration will live with me forever. Sarah gently rubbed up and down on my erect cock, and it was a powerfully erotic bit of cinema. I felt ready to come but stopped her; I did not want to ejaculate in front of Zoe and Ingrid, and settled on watching the erotic movie Abi had procured, and gently rubbing Sarah's nipples before moving to her slit. Sarah was exceptionally moist - and got considerably wetter as the film moved on and the experiences of "O" became more extreme. I was somewhat taken with the notion of handing over control of my life to someone else and lapped up the film, but couldn't do it as "O" did; it was too far! We were all transfixed, and I happily played with Sarah as I always did on Abi's film club. She was especially moist and gave muted groans as I pressed against the clit. She was unable to do much as she was leaning against my body between my legs, and I had both of my arms across her chest, pushing her into me, but she put her head back and tilted it to give me a kiss. I am not sure if Sarah did orgasm or just got very aroused, but she was quiet, which was crucial, and then kissed me as the film neared its end. "Thank you," she whispered and settled down against me. I let her "taste" herself on my fingers and then kissed her on the cheek, suckling her skin that caused her to giggle. "Is that your copy?" I asked Abi as the film finished, and we got up to stretch our legs. "Borrowed from Blockbusters," she replied with a smirk. "And yes, I could see you enjoyed it!" "It was a good film," I replied, a little defensively, and Abi smiled. "It was," Sarah agreed. "So erotic and so ..." "It. Was. Disgusting," Zoe interrupted. "And to see all that. How could someone do that to another person?" "Well, that's the point," Sarah told her and then smiled at her shocked face. "Oh Zoe. You are so naïve." "I am not naïve," Zoe thundered, and Abi and I looked at each other. "You are naïve," Ingrid replied. "You thought Ray and Rosie would be together for life." "Yeah, and that Sarah and I were being immoral and unnatural." "Oh, don't start this again," Zoe moaned and opened the door to the corridor. "You've watched a couple of porn films, but that was nothing short of violence and degradation and ... well, I felt sick when she got that heated metal and put it to the poor girl. It made me sick." Sarah's eyes twinkled. "We could, you know," she grinned. Abi allowed Zoe to leave the room and whispered in our ears. "Wait until the Summer, and you can have a temporary one if you two get kinky," she said, so I was barely able to hear. "It's called a sunburn brand, and it's where you make the design you want on some paper and cut it out. Then just lay down with all of you covered up except for that piece in the Sun, and just that bit gets sunburnt." We looked at her, and she shrugged. "We had long waits sometimes in the massage parlour. You talk about everything." I smiled, and we went into the open air. Zoe and the Scandinavian Ingrid had continued the row about the Story of O - it was one of Ingrid's favourite films, and I could see why; it was one of mine now. It was so elegantly done and showed in explicit detail the aspects of that culture. Sarah had a glint in her eye, but we were not going to be able to do much, and we held hands as Zoe moralised. "I so hope we go to see Satan if she is going to Heaven," Sarah whispered. "It'll be more fun." "It'll be 'ot," I joked, and we said our goodbyes at the top of the street. Rhea crossed her arms and looked at me as we came into the room. "What do you think to 'sexy' as a name?" I spluttered and shrugged. "I don't know. What for?" "For our daughter," Simon added. They cackled at my horrified face. "Rhea's not pregnant, but she wants to call her first daughter 'Sexy.'" I frowned at her. "It's an unusual name for a baby." Rhea smiled. "I know. But it is cool. Because can you imagine during the Ofsted inspection when my daughter is trying to firebomb the school and they ask 'who is that?' and then the headteacher replies, 'oh, she is Sexy.' They'll be locked up.And then there is the boyfriend thing. And all sorts. It has so much potential. I turned to Simon. "I so hope Rhea never has any children." "It's OK. I don't want any," Rhea said quickly. "Nasty, smelly, vile creatures. And you might end up with a little boy. Little girls are OK, I suppose, but boys, eh!" "Looks like it's up to us for the grandchildren then," I uttered to Sarah jokingly, and she squeezed my hand. "Yeah, who says I want children?" Sarah smiled at me and pursed her lips. "It's OK. I do and I know you do." Her eyes sparkled and she squeezed my hand. "We could go try now, if you want!" * * * * * Sarah's assertion worried me a bit; I had not actually told Sarah that I did want to be a father when I was older, as in truth I had not given it much thought, but clearly Sarah had. I put it out of my mind; why was Sarah worrying about such trivial things at sixteen anyway? I wasn't sure how I would cope with young children and had had little contact with the little blighters, but realized that if people like Mark could be a stepfather, then I should have no problems being a dad. I was road-tested quicker than I expected on Saturday afternoon. "Andy," Mum called out as she ran up the stairs. "Andy." "What?" I replied, worried by the urgency in her voice. "Andy," she cried when she saw me. "I need you to babysit." "Babysit?" I interrupted. I was a little concerned by her panicked look. "Yes, don't interrupt. Alicia's been injured. She's going to Stoke Mandeville." "Oh," I replied, my heart beating furiously. What did I know about looking after children? "Can't ..." Mum cocked her head, and Alicia's two children - Lily and Charlotte - emerged from behind her. "I got to go to the hospital, Horace is away. OK? Stay in the flat and use whatever you need in the freezer." Mum looked at me for a split second and then ran back down the stairs. "Hi," I muttered to the scared-looking children. They said nothing, and a half-naked Rhea looked into the lounge from the dining room. "Hey, did I hear you were babysitting? Unlucky." I looked at the two children; they may have been twins, but were remarkably different. "Do you want a drink?" They shook their heads, and Rhea smiled at them. "We have lemonade," she offered. Their faces lit up slightly at this, and Rhea then added, "And chocolate biscuits, you just need to take your coats off and come with me into the kitchen." They looked at Rhea and then at each other, and the bigger girl, Charlotte, nodded and took off her red coat, which I took off of her. Rhea, as it happens, didn't give them a chocolate biscuit, but the entire biscuit tin, and I groaned. "They wanted them." "Yes, well an alcoholic wants beer, but it is not a good thing to give it to them." "And a sex addict wants Sarah, and she does give it to you," Rhea replied instantly, and I rolled my eyes. "What's a sex addict?" Lily asked, looking up from the kitchen, and Rhea grinned. "Yes Andy, what is a sex addict?" "I don't know. Perhaps Rhea could tell us." Rhea turned to them and shook her head. "It's naughty words, but I shall not use them in front of you. Even if my big brother wants me to. But he likes naughty words as he is naughty. Silly Andy," she cooed and gave me a grin. My bottomless sister invited the two kids to play on the PlayStation, but they did not have the hand-eye coordination to play any of our video games, and we didn't have any toys suitable for seven-year-olds. Rhea got up and looked at the video cabinet, scowling at it. "It's locked," she moaned. I shrugged; Mum did keep the video cabinet locked if she thought we would watch inappropriate films (she openly admitted having some containing adult, pornographic, or explicit material), and Rhea disappeared, returning a few moments later with a couple of small metal tools. I rolled my eyes, but Lily came over and looked at Rhea peering into the cabinet. "Do you mind," Rhea teased. "Tricks of the trade." Lily looked at me, and I went to call her over, but Rhea giggled and got the seven-year-old to sit down and listen. I went to protest, but Charlotte said she needed a wee, and I had to show her where the bathroom was, leaving Rhea to teach Lily some unsuitable skills. I came back down to Rhea gently guiding Lily into picking the lock, and there was a clunk. "She's a natural," Rhea proudly explained. "Even Simon spent longer on his first lock." Lily beamed. "Just don't tell Mum," I warned her, and Rhea selected the first film she saw on the shelf - The Exorcist. I tutted, and Rhea then chose a more suitable film for our audience, The Little Mermaid. Our young audience loved the film, and as it neared its conclusion, I located a couple of pizzas in the freezer and put them in the oven with some French fries. The two girls may have remained perfectly still and calm during the film, but the excess of chocolate Rhea had fed them gave them a sugar high as they sat down to eat the dinner I was providing, and the excited chatter over dinner was enough to give me a headache. I left the washing up for later and got out the draughts board, offering a game to the quiet Lily, who passed, and Charlotte took me up on it. It was tough teaching a seven-year-old strategy and the rules of the game, but I allowed her to win the first couple of games and then beat her to show her where her weaknesses were. Rhea teased me about losing, but she had found a bow and arrow set from when she was a bit smaller and was currently enticing Lily to shoot at her teddy bear perched on the bottom step of the stairs. "Be careful," I told them as Lily hit the wall, and Rhea just cackled and retrieved the ammunition. I put my foot down when Rhea retrieved her claymore and gave it to the seven-year-old, whose eyes lit up, although she was barely able to lift it. Rhea supported it as she swung it, and I told my sister to put it away before someone - most probably me - got hurt. Eventually, we settled down to watch another film, and I provided the girls with some popcorn, fizzy pop, and a Disney video which we had to rewind (Rhea never rewound the videos when she finished with them!). As the credits finished, there was a cough behind us, and Mum stood there with Alicia, her leg bandaged up. I saw her glance over at Rhea, who hadn't noticed, and Lily finish her can of cola, burp, and then scrunch up the can. The television went off with a flick of Mum's hand, and Rhea turned to see her, only for Lily to burp loudly again. "Ahh, a natural." Alicia gave a grin. "Teaching her bad habits, Rhea. She'll end up like you." Mum glared at me. "I thought I left you in charge," she said with an annoyed edge to her voice. "I thought that as well," I snapped back, and Charlotte promptly took four of my pieces. "But then you can't control Rhea, what chance have I got?" "Oi," Rhea replied. "I am not a rottweiler." "No," I said in a slightly aggrieved tone. "A rottweiler can be trained." Lily looked up at her mother and ran to her, wrapping her arms around her. "So what have you been up to?" "We watched a film, and then Andy made us pizza, and then we listened to music, and we played with bows and arrows and swords, and then, errr, we watched another film." Mum looked at Rhea. "I thought I locked the video cabinet." "And Rhea taught me how to open locked cabinets." Alicia burst out laughing, and my sister hissed at the little girl. Of course, Rhea still wasn't dressed, and her lounging on the couch was displaying all of her teenage attributes to our visitor; this did not go unnoticed. "And I want a big sword for Christmas!" Mum took Alicia and the kids back to their house and returned ten minutes later, telling Rhea off for picking locks and showing Alicia's kids how to do it, and then I was reprimanded for allowing Rhea to do it. "We only watched a Disney film," I replied. "And anyway, I didn't know she was breaking in until she was breaking in. And then it was too late." Mum gave me a withering look, and I used the pause to ask what had happened to Alicia. "Car. Knocked over crossing the road as we went for a walk. There was an ambulance just 'round the corner, so there was no time, but I didn't want to take the kids to the hospital." "I suppose not," I muttered and allowed our conversation to peter out. Mum came over and hugged me. "I know I dumped them on you, but thank you for looking after Charlotte and Lily. It is appreciated," she told me and kissed my cheek. She gave a groan and then released me. "But I am needed at work; don't be up too late," she warned, and I watched her leave the room and go through the interconnecting door. Maybe having children weren't so bad after all, but only if they were kept away from their Aunty Rhea! * * * * * Abi and Sarah were both waiting for me as I unlocked the door to the club on Sunday, and I looked suspiciously at them, but Abi just shrugged. "I've arranged it with Grace." "Arranged what?" "Nothing," Sarah squeaked. She coughed and gave a slightly nervous laugh. "Just, umm... well, nothing much." "You're a crap liar," I told my girlfriend and then looked at my ex-lover. "Abi? What is going on?" "Errr... you heard the young lady," my Scottish friend told me. "Nuttin'." "Abi, Sarah, you two can't lie." Sarah disagreed, but neither of them were anywhere near the Rhea standard I was usually faced with, and then I stood in the doorway with my arms crossed and the key in my hand. "OK, I'm teaching Sarah to strip." "She can strip," I answered immediately and sighed. "Well, she's done it before." "I want to learn from the best," Sarah told me, and we heard Zoe's voice coming up the road. I unlocked the door and unset the alarm, telling the two to wait in the toilets, and Zoe and I would do upstairs together. "You got half-an-hour," I warned them, and Sarah thanked me with a kiss. "Did I hear you talking to someone?"My suspicious friend asked as I smiled at her. "No, just umm. Just my phone," I told her and held out the bulky handset from my pocket. "Mum asking me. Could we, err, could we start upstairs first?" "Yeah, sure," Zoe replied as she came in and looked at me mistrustfully. I took a couple of deep breaths; why was I suddenly scared about talking to Zoe? I was doing what Abi and Sarah were doing, which is why I knew that they were lying to me. I grabbed hold of our extensive tray of cleaning products and grabbed both the vacuum cleaner and the carpet cleaner, taking them to the bottom of the stairs and then carrying the vacuum cleaner upstairs. "Why did your Mum want us to do these first?" "Dirty," I muttered and then saw movement in the toilets. "And she said she might be popping in downstairs in a minute." "OK," Zoe muttered, and I put the vacuum cleaner in the small corridor before retrieving the carpet cleaner. I heard the music come on while we were in one of the VIP rooms and rolled my eyes. Zoe looked at me with a questioning look, but we continued talking about more mundane things - Ray's break-up with Donna the week before, Rhea's continuing relationship with Simon, Zoe's latest book, or even just the music on the radio or the homework we had to do. I was vacuuming each room and then cleaning it with the carpet cleaner, and while the rooms were used, they were not dirty, and I had to use all my persuasion to get Zoe to stay until they were completely pristine; they were of a much higher standard than usual, and even the lights were gleaming. Zoe shook her head. "Is an inspection due?" "Had it," I muttered as we finished the last room. Like last time, we had an impressive array of lost property, including a card advertising escort services by Suzanna with a picture that looked remarkably like Cherry! We put the last of the items at the top of the stairs and made a loud noise as we started to descend the steps; I was hoping Abi and Sarah had finished and the music had stopped, but as the stairs swept around to the right and above the stage, I heard Zoe shout. "Sarah!" Zoe cried, and I looked to see a naked Sarah - except for some boots, crouching down and holding onto a pole as Abi directed. "Oh hi," Sarah called as she made a pelvic thrust onto the pole. "That's good," Abi said, nodding. "Nearly finished." Zoe was at the foot of the stage in seconds and stared directly at her friend. "What are you doing? You can't be working here as you are too young." "Yes, I know," Sarah cried as she sat on the stage. "I know that. I wanted Abi to teach me for ... personal reasons." "Personal reasons?" "Yeah." Her eyes flicked towards me, and I smiled at her. Zoe groaned and stormed off towards the toilets. "I am doing in here, and I don't want to see naked people when I am finished." I looked at both of the troublesome ladies with a shake of the head, and Sarah grabbed her clothes scattered around the floor before I realised that they weren't her clothes at all. "Mine are in the back room," she told me, reading my mind. "But you did well," Abi told her. "A natural." "I'd like to work here," Sarah mused. "I could do with the extra money." "You could get a job anywhere for the extra money," I replied, and she crossed her arms. "You sound like Mum. I don't want to get a job anywhere, I want to get a job at the strip club." I sighed, and Sarah crossed her arms. "Well, I want somewhere where I can have some fun!" "It's not that fun," Abi told her. "Gets very samey. Same guys, same dances, same being felt up, same everything." "It's so much fun," Sarah cried. "I love it." I groaned; Sarah was spoilt at times. Working - at our age - didn't involve fun. It was menial work to get extra pocket money and pay for the things we wanted to do. The first step on the road to independence, but Sarah would continue to not have to work while her parents gave her a generous allowance. I was a little proud of the fact that I worked for my money and although Dad put a very generous allowance into my bank account each month, it did not stop me from working. Indeed, the majority of my money was earned, and Sarah was a long way from being able to say that! I shook my head and joined Zoe in the toilets, who was moaning vociferously about Sarah and Abi; it wasn't my choice for Zoe to see them, but the way she shouted at me, she clearly thought it was all my doing. * * * * * "Why do you come then?" I asked Zoe as she ranted about the depravity of the Story of O. "I mean, they are adult films. You don't like them, so why come?" Zoe scowled slightly as we approached the top of Abi's road. "Well ... it's ummm ... I don't want to be on my own." "It's two hours. Just like when you wanted to see Titanic last year, and you went with Ingrid and Rosie and whoever. I didn't go 'cause it's ... well not my thing." "Well, neither is Story of O and Beethoven and ... stuff." "This is a porn film. Debbie does Dallas is renowned," I told her. "It's full of people ..." "I know," Zoe interrupted. "I just shut my eyes for those bits. OK?" I burst out laughing, as did Ray, Ingrid, and Sarah walking with us. "Zoe, what will we do with you?" "Get her laid," Ray crudely said. "In fact, I'll do it. Change your mind 'bout sex." "Sleeping with one girl does not make you a sex god," Ingrid told him, and he snorted. "Two actually." His crass and bold demeanour withered slightly when Sarah looked at him. "Rosie said you hadn't gone ... you know." "No. Ummmm ... not her. Katy." He pursed his lips and looked at me, and I shrugged. "The cute one from last week." "Oh Ray ..." He smiled and wiped his nose. "She's the one who kept smiling and touching me." Sarah shook her head at him, but he just shrugged, clearly enjoying being the centre of attention. "Ah, we swapped phone numbers, and she asked if I could take some pictures of her, so Mum and Dad were out on Saturday, so she came up, took some photos in the garden, developed 'em and um we agreed a price." I stared at his overconfident demeanour. "That's prostitution." "Yeah," Ray muttered. "Well, it saves on having to get to know her. She was cute and nice but thick as two short planks. Who wants to spend time being nice to that? We had nothing in common really, so quick photos, develop, she sees them as good and wants them, so fuck in my room. I mean, they were only black 'n' white, but she looked classy. Which she isn't." Zoe sneered. "That's so immoral and disgusting," she railed. "Twasn't," Ray uttered and smiled. "She could suck a ..." "I don't want to know," cried both Zoe and me in unison. "And Ray, be discreet," I told him. "Or you won't be getting many other girlfriends." Ray sneered, but Ingrid agreed with us and told him to be less candid. I was somewhat surprised at Ray; he was always a bit shy and a very calm person, but Donna had certainly exposed a wilder streak in him, and he was certainly keen to maintain it despite her departure. Ray needed a steady, calm girl to keep him in check - a strong figure who was fierce and uncomplicated like Zoe or Ingrid, but he was not going to endear himself to either of them by boasting of his overactive libido or chauvinistic attitudes. We arrived at Abi's flat, and once again, Sarah did her trick with the popcorn, scattering popped kernels to the four corners of the small kitchen. Abi was rarely flustered but came back looking a little stressed after Sarah forgot to put the lid on the pan and covered half of the kitchen in the snack. We settled down with a small bowl of popcorn each, and Abi turned the film on. It was a lot more intense and erotic than Showgirls, the sex scenes were more graphic, although the video was a little grainy. Sarah cuddled up to me, and I openly danced over her labia with my fingers. Fortunately, her groaning and mewing were quiet and blended in with the television. Ray was close to Ingrid, and I saw him trying to touch her, but she resisted his charms much to my sadistic amusement. Zoe kept flinching, and on more than one occasion, I saw her close her eyes as there was a particular filthy scene - she was amusing if nothing else! My attention, however, was focused on Sarah and the film, and I wondered if I could bring Sarah to orgasm without anyone (apart from Sarah) realising. I waited for the "threesome" scene with Lisa, Ashley, and Hamilton and applied pressure on Sarah's clit. My hand was openly down her trousers, but she had unbuttoned them to give me some sort of access, and it was hot and wet in her knickers; she was either sweating, aroused, or both. Sarah pushed her rear into the carpet and put her head back on the chair. Abi was directly behind us, and I am sure she slipped us a glance, but I knew she would not care, and I began to circle Sarah's clit with my finger. I heard her breathing become panting, and her body started to writhe. She bit her lip and squeezed my arm. She pushed her legs together and sighed. I knew she was close to coming and took a number of quick, shallow breaths and screwed up her face. She pulled her pelvis into the chair and mewed before pursing her lips tightly. I could tell she was desperately fighting her climax, but I had a naughty streak in me, and I knew Sarah did not mind - she was a pure exhibitionist at heart. "Andy," she whispered, but I ignored her and increased my pace, pressing down forcefully on her pearl. She sniffed, and her legs shook slightly as her body tensed and her pelvis pulsed. I could see her screwing up her eyes and her face while her hand was clamped over her mouth. She squealed too loudly for comfort, and I instinctively coughed to mask it before pressing gently and withdrawing my finger. Sarah was panting slowly and had a smile on her face. She blew me a kiss, and we watched the last few minutes of the film. "Well, that was another immoral film," Zoe told us as the credits rolled, and we smiled at her."It was advocating prostitution." "There's nothing wrong with a bit of whoring," Ray told her with a smile. "It's the oldest game in town." "It is so wrong. Think of Mary Magdalene and what the bible teaches us. She turned her back on it 'cause it was wrong, and she was forgiven. Prostitution is a sin, and it is wrong," she explained calmly but resolutely, and we looked at Ray who shrugged. "Sure, wasn't it also taught that those of you with unblemished pasts can throw the first stone? You've sinned too." "Yeah, like in the Summer," Sarah reminded Zoe who just groaned. "Yes, I know," Zoe snapped. "But Ray, getting a girl to have sex with you solely so you will take filthy pictures of her, it isn't right." "Why? She was a shit fuck, so it all evens out. And as you said, throw the first stone when you are sinless." "I am not throwing stones," Zoe told him with a scowl. "I just think getting a girl into bed as a trade demeans sex and it demeans you." "Really?" Ray asked with a smirk. "Listen, every girl's got their price." "I haven't," Zoe interrupted him, and Ray scoffed. "A thousand pounds?" Zoe shook her head, and Ray raised his eyebrows. "Two thousand? Hundred thousand? A million? It doesn't matter. Every bird has their price, and I met Katy's." "So what's your price for taking a cock up your backside?" Ingrid asked him, and Ray's face dropped slightly. "Every guy must have a price." "I don't know," Ray told her. "Maybe ... OK, I don't know. I'll have one," he said airily. "But I haven't worked it out." Angela patted Ray on the head. "He may be a bit of an arrogant prick with it, but he's right. Every guy and every gal have their price." Zoe crossed her arms as Ray crowed and then patted Zoe on the knee. "So what's your price for a date then, gorgeous?" "She's too expensive for you," I replied for my blonde friend and Zoe nodded. "Quite right." Sarah and I got up and opened the curtains which the rest of the visitors took as their cue to leave. Angela smiled as Ray and Zoe continued their frantic discussion as they left the room and looked at me. "You and Abi aren't blameless in that department," I teased. "But Zoe doesn't know that." Abi cocked her head. "Does she know all what you have done?" "Hell no," Sarah answered for me. "Not a chance. Not even I know what he's been up to!" Which was something I was quite grateful for. I knocked on the door of Sarah's house at Saturday lunchtime having started the club with Zoe at the break of dawn. She was going away overnight to a religious happy-clappy camp and wouldn't be home until 5pm on Sunday, when we would clean it again (although I would start at 3pm and have it half done by the time she arrived). "She's not dressed," her mother told me as I was let in. "Had a shower after football but not got dressed. But then you like it like that." I blushed as she cackled at me. "Are you telling me that any guy wouldn't?" She smiled and shook her head at me. "It's OK. I'm only teasing. She's upstairs." I nodded in thanks and started walking up her stairs only for to call out to me. "I hear a friend of yours has been teaching my daughter how to do stripteases," Angela asked and I bit my lip, blushing a bit more. "Ahhh ... well they sort of arranged that themselves." Angela's expression burst into a smile. "You know. When I met you, I thought you were a delightful lad with good intentions." I hesitated. "And now?" She wiped her mouth. "I think you two get away with far too much," she told me. "You two are only sixteen, but you seem to forget that! But I ain't going to lecture. Just be careful where you let her go stripping!" "Do you think I can control her?" I asked, and Angela licked her lips and nodded. "I didn't set her up for the lessons; she did that herself!" "I think you both have more control over each other than you realise," she told me quite cryptically and then smiled. "And Grace thinks so too." I shook my head, going to respond to the admission that Angela and Mum had been talking about us, but she chortled to herself and went back into her room. I hesitated outside Sarah's door. I wasn't certain if I wanted to burst in and see her naked or be a gentleman and knock. In the end, I decided that it would be better to allow my girlfriend to keep her dignity and knocked loudly on the door only for Sarah to call me in. She was naked, except for a pair of rainbow-colored socks and a sunhat. "What are you doing?" I asked, looking at the many piles of clothes on the bed. "Sorting out my clothes," she told me and put the sunhat onto the bed in a particular pile before smiling at me. She must have gotten out of the shower recently as her hair was slightly damp and was still frizzy and uncontrollable. "So ... what does sorting out clothes mean?" I asked as I kissed her and then put my bag down on the spare bit of floor. I cupped her buttocks and the exhibitionist licked her lips and went back to her open wardrobe. "I have so much shit," she moaned and took out a gray pinafore dress. "I mean, what was I on when I bought this?" She flung it over to the pile by the door and then took out another dress - this time blue. "Wear it," I told her, and she groaned before trying it on and saying it didn't suit her. It was long and flowing, much like Abi's green dress, and I shook my head. "It's fine." "Oh, it isn't," she cried and wrapped her hands underneath it and threw it onto another pile next to me. "It's for Jodie." Sarah also disliked a skirt that was too long (it reached her knees), a blouse that had one button missing, and a T-Shirt that had a band that was now unfashionable on it; these too went in the donate or bin piles. "And this," Sarah cried, holding out a pair of denim dungarees. "What was I thinking of?" "Wear them," I told her, and she threw them over me onto another pile. I caught them and gave them back to her. "Try them on." "Why?" Sarah asked, her head cocked and her body language exuding annoyance. "Because you'll look nice," I told her, and she scoffed, throwing them back on the pile. I reached over, caught them, and she scowled. "Andy, they are horrible. I can't believe I ever bought them and wore them. Now..." "Try them on," I told her. "They are sexy." "They are not," Sarah repeated, and I had to remind her of Felicity Kendall. Eventually, she relented and put them on so that she was naked underneath. I helped her fasten the straps, and she looked in the mirror, making a sneering sound. "They are so ... babyish." "They are fun," I told her and slid my hands underneath the straps to reach her nipples and touched them gently. She sighed and gasped, biting her lip as she watched me in the mirror playing with her. She took a few deep breaths as I nibbled on her ear and kissed her neck. "You're sexy in anything," I whispered. "But dungarees suit you, don't they?" She took a few quick breaths and gulped, shaking her head, but I used my hand to explore her chest and her body while kissing her. "Don't they?" "Oh God ... if you say so," she muttered, and I put my hand inside her bottom half. "Later," she whispered. "Please. I can't come in dungarees," she begged, but I laughed at her and pushed my hand lower. I had to bow my head slightly but reached her waist, where the clothes were tightest and touched her clit. "Andy," she begged, but made no effort to stop me as I touched her pearl and began to apply pressure. She was wet and horny and although she denied it, I could have whipped open her overalls and bent her over her desk, and she would have happily taken my erect manhood. I wanted to have sex on the bed, and this was impossible with her piles of clothes, so I was going to torment her in unfashionable clothes. Instead, I pushed against her little button and watched as she screwed up her face and looked up at the ceiling, allowing me to kiss her neck. Her groans were loud and audible, and she parted her legs to allow me better access. Standing up and playing with her was a wholly different sensation for both of us, but Sarah was happy to lean back a little as I fingered her towards her orgasm. I recognized the usual ragged breathing and crying out before looking up at her and withdrawing my hand. She put her legs together and scowled at me. "Oh Andy," she begged. "Come on." "You said you didn't want to come in your overalls," I teased and kissed her on the lips. She slapped me and pushed me against the bed and over her clothes. "That's mean," she snapped and took off her overalls and threw them towards me. "I'm not keeping them now." I tried to take Sarah's hand, but she was playfully annoyed with me and pushed me away, so I got up, grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her back onto the mountain of clothes, before kissing the tops of her legs. She shook her head and tried to resist, but the moment my lips made contact with her labia, her opposition died. "You're not really annoyed, are you?" I asked as I put her dungarees underneath her rear to catch any moisture before kissing her clit. Sarah didn't need to respond as I massaged her pearl with my tongue and then sucked gently on her engorged kernel. Sarah gulped and writhed under my touch and I moved my fingers to being aligned to her hole. Her body gladly accepted them and then I curled my fingers towards her ridged wall. Her body tensed, and her muscles quivered as my tongue wrapped itself along her slick runway and played with her clit. She rubbed the back of my head and stroked my hair as she lay back on her clothing mound. "Oh Andy," she screamed as she neared her climax and her body tensed. I looked up to see her eyes glazed and her face flushed. I pressed harder against her wall and sucked hard against her clit. She squealed and gasped, grabbing hold of the clothes and bucking her hips into my face. She was ready to climax, and I squeezed her nipple with my spare fingers.I felt myself come as my loins shook and shivered around his intruding finger before I cried out loudly. I looked at him panting and pushed his face into my crotch. "Keep going," I cried, but he shook his head. "Later," he told me and held out his hand. I refused it at first, but he guided me to my feet and kissed me on the cheek. "If I wear you out now, there'll be nothing left for later," he told me, and I screwed up my overalls and threw them into the corner. "It's my washing pile," I told him and then smiled. "But only 'cause you like 'em." I giggled at him and watched as I got out my next outfit - a black skirt and then went through the rest of my wardrobe. I had a PVC-style catsuit that I had bought the year before when in London with Kevin that he particularly liked, but at the end of it, I had two bin bags of clothes - and another bag of shoes to the bin - and another bin bag for Jodie. I am not sure if Jodie - Sarah's friend from the football training - would want to be a charity case, but I was adamant that she would accept the offer in the spirit it was intended. These were clothes that were mostly unworn, did not suit me or go with any of my shoes, or other clothes. I did ask about the shoes in that I had the bottom of two wardrobes of clothes, but I just shrugged. "Need that many. Each pair go with a particular outfit." I washed my face and hands, and I put a nightdress on, and we took the bin bags down the stairs to go by the side of the bin. Angela came in and sighed. "You need to go shopping now, poppet?" Angela asked, and I nodded with a grin on my face. "Well it will have to wait until next month," she told me, and I crossed my arms. "But I've thrown out ... loads," I wailed. Angela sighed, and he squeezed my hand. "But you've got a wardrobe and a half of clothes," he reminded me, and I screwed up my face. I could see Angela looking torn and he pulled me towards the kitchen where he made a pot of tea. "You could get yourself a Saturday job," he told me, but I shook my head. "Don't need it," I replied and straightened my nightdress. He looked at me, and I shrugged. "I only get ... oh I can see what you are saying," I said with a snarl. "And you get money off your Dad so don't start." "I wasn't," he muttered with his hands outstretched. "I just said that you could get a Saturday job and buy your own clothes." I scoffed. "Yeah, and I'd earn thirty pounds tops each day - that'll be half a dress if I'm lucky. I can't earn enough to buy what I want." He counted to three and didn't respond, but at that moment I was extremely unattractive to him. If I disliked his temper, then he certainly disliked my sense of entitlement. I expected my parents to fund my obsession with expensive clothing, and I noticed all of my clothes came with an expensive label. Whereas most of his clothes were bog-standard, hard-wearing normal clothes that came without a phone number price tag, I seemed almost to demand the very best garments my parents' money could buy. He couldn't quite see how to explain to me that I was wrong but in the end bit his lip and looked at me. "Let's go shopping," he told me. "Tomorrow. In Watford. I got until Zoe gets back at three." I scowled. "But Mum said I can't," I moaned. "And I've only got a hundred in the bank." He smiled. "I shall buy you an outfit ... but from my shops. Not your fancy boutique places, normal shops." I groaned, and I scowled and tapped the counter. "I know what you are trying to say," I moaned. "That I am some sort of immature, demanding, rich kid who just demands designer stuff that I don't need," I cried and waved my finger at him. "But I am not. I just like to look nice." He passed me a cup of tea and picked up another one cup for my mother. "You are pretty, you don't need expensive threads to look nice," he complimented me. "And the amount of clothes you have, do you really need any more?" My voice broke as he left the room to pass Angela her cup of tea and we went into the conservatory to play a game of Scrabble. I wasn't annoyed at what he had said, but was certainly irritated by what she thought he meant, but he told me to try shopping in less salubrious shops and I just refused to countenance the concept. I joined my family for tea that he and I cooked. I was still only dressed in my nightie, but we easily cooked a Spaghetti Bolognase that I splashed onto my white nightdress. "I need to throw it," I moaned. "Tomato won't come out." He glared at me, and I shrugged. "It's a nightie," he hissed. "Who cares if it's got tomato on it?" I scowled. "It's ruined. I better change it and throw it," I snapped, and he took the wooden spoon from the pan and smeared it across my chest. "Now it's ruined," he told me, looking at the red streak across my breasts. "But you can still wear it." I flapped my hands. "I can't, it's ..." "It's fine," he told me with a grin and kissed me. My resistance melted, and we dished up. My father made reference to the nightdress - both the red stain and the fact that his daughter still wasn't dressed at six in the evening while we talked. "We're out for the evening," Angela told me, as I cleared the plates away and dished a plate of ice cream each. He glanced at the imposing figure of my father, and he smiled at his wife. "Sure," I cried out from the other room. "Away at Robert's," he whispered, and Angela blushed. "No," Angela hissed and looked at William who chuckled at his wife's panicked face. "He'll be there," he told him in a low voice. "But you don't know where we are going, do you?" He nodded at his firmness as Angela watched. "And we aren't staying," she murmured. "We'll be home very late, but we'll be home." I smiled as I returned with a bowl of ice cream each and sat down. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, Andy's sleeping here tonight," I announced to my parents and my parents looked at me. "It's OK, he'll be in the spare room." William looked at his wife, and Angela rolled her eyes. "And you, dear?" "Oh Mum, you know I want a double bed," I begged. "Well you want a lot," my father snapped and looked at him wriggling in the chair. "I warn both of you if Sarah gets pregnant they'll be hell to pay." I frowned and sighed. "I'm not going to get pregnant. I'm on the pill. And anyway, what makes you think we're having sex?" "Because I heard you three hours ago when I came home," William told me and took a spoonful of ice cream. "Ahh no!" he cried and then shook his head. "Actually ... well ..." He could feel himself blushing and Angela put her hand on her husband's fingers, squeezing them affectionately. "Leave 'em alone. Sarah is not going to get pregnant," she said firmly and glanced at me. "She won't make the same mistake we did." She was quite pointed with her comment, but I looked at my mother for a moment before being shot a look to tell me not to ask the question I was going to. He told Angela as we cleared the dessert bowls away that she was welcome to stay the night with her swingers as I would be "OK with him" but Angela just laughed. "It's not Sarah being alone that worries me," she said and then licked her lips. "After a few hours bits of me get sore," she told him with a chuckle and then rubbed her face. "And make sure you look after my daughter!" He promised I was in safe hands, and we waved away my parents at eight as they went to the "theatre." "Must be a long way away," I moaned. "If they ain't gonna be back for hours." He hummed and kissed me, the red stain on my nightie now dried, and he pointed me towards the conservatory. We watched television for a while - the usual desperate Saturday night fare was mind-numbingly tedious yet strangely watchable - but before too long even I got bored. I gave him a grin and told him to wait for a moment, and disappeared. I thought I was going to the toilet, but there was no flushing and he waited for a few minutes until he reached the bottom of the stairs and called up to me. "You OK?" "Just getting changed. I'll be down in a minute," my beau replied. "Do you want any help?" "No," I squawked in a slightly panicked voice and he got himself a glass of water from the kitchen and sat back down in the lounge, flicking through the channels. I heard the staircase creak and looked up to see a hand come from around the door, and I turned off the "big light" in the room. "Sarah? Do you fancy ..." "Sssshhh!" I hissed, and my ghetto blaster was put into the room. He smiled as the "Hey Big Spender" came on and realised what I was doing. I strode into the room, my eyes staring straight at him and I flicked the television off with a flick of my hand. I looked fabulous - the tartan skirt and white blouse accentuated with some stockings and a pair of black high heels. My hair was tied up and perched on top of my head, and I smiled at him, wiggling my hips as I moved to the music. He moved his hands forward to touch me, but I slapped them away and licked lips at him. I bounded around the room, filled with confidence and energy; I was in total control and he gulped as I maintained eye contact with him and moved my hands over my body. I kissed my finger and then openly sucked it, pushing it in and out. I cocked my waist to one side and then spun around before sitting on his lap, grinding myself into him. He gasped and went to kiss my neck, but I got up before he could and turned to face him. I slowly unbuttoned the top button on my blouse, and then the second, slowly revealing a lacy white bra underneath.I was transfixed, and I had seen Sarah naked or topless so many times, but she was so much more alluring when she was stripping. I made a mental note to thank Abi for teaching Sarah her craft, but Sarah was slowly unbuttoning her top, not rushing for anyone. The music skipped onto the next track, and I desperately wanted to pull out my manhood and play with myself or get Sarah to do something, but I knew she wanted to build up suspense and tension. Sarah spun around again and looked behind her, slowly allowing her top to fall from her shoulders. She blew me a kiss as the only thing I could see was her bare arm, but I was going crazy with lustful thoughts. I gulped and called out a compliment, but she ignored me. Sarah pranced around the room a bit more, her white lacy bra looking delightful on her before she waved her hips in a weird motion. I took some deep breaths and watched as she unzipped her tartan skirt and arched her back, allowing the garment to fall and then puddle by her feet. She stepped out of it elegantly and kicked her shoes across the lounge before smiling at me and putting her left leg on my seat between my legs. I reached forward to touch her, but she shook her head and slid her hands down her legs, taking her stockings with her. I could see the garter belt and knickers she was wearing, and she smiled at me as I watched her intently. She draped her first stocking over my shoulder, and then the other stocking was removed in the same way. Her garter belt was placed into my lap, and she smiled at me, dancing a bit more around the room. I was on edge, I felt a tension in my trousers and simpered as she sat on my lap, ground into my waist and didn't allow me to touch. She got up and put her finger underneath my chin to lift my eye line up from her crotch to her face before she unclipped her bra. Sarah dangled her bosom in my face and put her hands on the wall behind me as her body swayed to the music and her teenage orbs touched my face. It felt heavenly, and she pranced over to the edge of the room before coming back and tapping me on the nose. She slid her hands all over her body and watched me intently, maintaining eye contact and made mewing sounds as her hands caressed her body. She openly fondled herself, and I put my hands in my lap; I wanted to do that to her, or myself, but couldn't. She watched me as her hands slid down her slender body and tucked into her white lacy knickers before smiling at me and pushing them down to her waist. She kicked them onto the chair opposite and licked her lips. Sarah was happy to sway and move to the song until it finished, clearly enjoying the tension she was creating and desperate lust I was experiencing. She giggled as the music stopped and licked her lips. "So," she asked coyly, "how did I do?" I grunted and pulled down my trousers, exposing my erect cock. "This well." She laughed and rubbed her nose. "It is good fun," she told me as I frantically removed my clothes. "And I really enjoyed it. Abi told me so much, and ..." She stopped as I gave her a naked embrace and cuddled her, before pushing her onto the sofa. She resisted a little but lay down on the floor, and I just mounted her in the missionary position. She giggled. "You are excited," she told me, but I already knew that. "I am not sure if I should sleep with a punter," Sarah teased, but I lined up my cock at her entrance and pushed forward. Sarah was not super-wet, but she did not offer much resistance, and I pushed gently into her, causing her to groan. She wrapped her legs around the small of my back, and I began to build up a rhythm; I was extremely aroused and desperate for a release, which I knew would not make me a fantastic lover, but Sarah had me worked up! I pushed forward and increased my speed. Sarah gasped and smiled, kissing me on the shoulder as I concentrated on ramming my cock into her tight opening. I needed that release, and I felt tension build at the back of my testicles. I grunted and screwed up my face as my thrusting turned into frantic jack-hammering. Sarah whimpered, and I knew that she would not orgasm before I did, but it was her fault, and I sniffed before crying out and filling her with my seed. Sarah waited as I finished, and I panted, and then she kissed me on the lips. "It worked then," she teased, and I nodded. "Yeah," I panted and moved my head back. "Sorry," I muttered. "Sort of didn't ..." "I'm fine," Sarah told me and giggled. "I came earlier, you didn't." I got up from the floor and pulled her up, and we walked to the bathroom next to her room. She bathed her genitals liberally, and we kissed as we took it in turns to go to the toilet; it felt weird to be kissing each other on the lavatory, but I was in love with her, more than ever. In many ways, the day had been the best and worst of my girlfriend - she was fun and sexy but sometimes self-centered and unreasonably demanding. I was happy to enjoy the former but knew that I had to cure her of her materialism if she wasn't going to drive me up the wall! We settled down in the spare bedroom, and Sarah turned off the lights, kissing me and hugging me. She "allowed" me to caress and cuddle her, before going down on her and probing her G-Spot relentlessly until she had her umpteenth orgasm. Sarah "demanded" doggy style as she came down from her powerful climax, and I relentlessly pounded my erect cock into her soft folds while using her waist as a pivot and then slapping her rump hard. She gasped with every hit but was reaching underneath herself to touch her clitoris as I pounded my cock into her. I came for the second time in two hours, and we collapsed on the bed, a mixture of sweat and bodily fluids. "Love you," I told her, and she kissed me. "Love you too," she replied and smirked. "And so does every bit of me." I laughed at her, but we had a quick shower and settled down together in each other's arms, exhausted. I had set my alarm on my phone to wake us at around 8am, and we woke to find our clothes neatly stacked in a pile and a note on the top. "If you must do stripping in the lounge," Sarah read, "clear up after yourself, you brazen hussy!" We both laughed, and I asked for the note to write a response, but I was somewhat grateful when Sarah refused to let me! I reminded Sarah of her promise - that we would travel to Watford and look in "normal" clothes shops, and she whinged at me, but I was relentless, and a kiss on her downstairs lips soon restored a cooperative girlfriend. Wendover to Watford is not an easy journey, but there was a bus that went to Aylesbury, and we then caught another one which went via every town, village, hamlet and settlement in two counties before reaching our destination. I was glad that I had awoken Sarah at a reasonable time as it took us until 10:30am to reach the shopping town of Watford, and we disembarked. I had chosen Watford as it was not resplendent with posh boutiques and fancy little clothes shops, and Sarah was forced to look at more moderate shops. At first, she whined, and I took her onto a small indoor market that was full of clothes stores. "It's really crap," she moaned and held out a polyester blouse. I conceded with her on this as a woman scowled at us, but held out a white crop-top that looked ideal. She held it in her hands, it was soft, and then held it up to her, before agreeing that it wasn't "bad." In the end, I persuaded her to let me buy it, and it cost me a grand total of £2.50. We added a pair of slimline skinny jeans from the market and a red jacket from a shop above us before she found a beautiful cocktail dress in a shop closing down. I treated Sarah to two dresses, three T-shirts, a blouse, two pairs of trousers and a few pairs of knickers, as well as lunch at McDonald's, and totaled it up on my phone. "So, how much?" I asked her, and she licked her lips and then looked at her bulging two bags of clothes. "Hundred and fifty," she guessed and rubbed the back of my hand. "And thank you, it's really sweet of you but ..." "Fifty-one," I replied. "Fifty-eight if you include lunch." Sarah scoffed, but I showed her my working. "And this proves that I am right. Have some really expensive clothes for going out, but every day College stuff and cooking and that sort doesn't need to be top-end stuff. And that way your money will go further." She cocked her head and glanced down at her fries. "Sometimes you can be so sanctimonious," she moaned with an irritated lilt to her voice. We finished our lunch and ambled back to the bus station, passing a pound shop on the way. I darted in to get Sarah her last "present" - a bright red apron - that caused her to laugh, and we kissed at the bus station, on the bus and when I left her house, just as she started hanging her new clothes up in her wardrobe. "Where do you think you're going?" Rhea was stopped as she was about to leave the house with her claymore and was spotted through the dining room by Mum. "School," Rhea told her and tried to hide the six-foot sword behind the back of her 5 foot 6 inch frame. "I don't think so, young lady." "Excellent," Rhea cried. "I get the day off school." She smiled at Mum, who called my little sister into the dining room and asked her the obvious question. "'Cause I hate Mondays," she said in a deadpan voice. "So what I want to do is to shoot up the entire school, but as you won't let me have a gun, I am stuck with a sword, but I reckon I can kill half-a-dozen teachers before Parent's Evening. OK? Excellent." "Rhea!" Mum shouted and called my errant sister back to the dining room as she went to leave. "OK. It's for the school play. Year 11 are doing Camelot, and I mentioned I had a sword." Mum sighed and groaned. "Yes, I know," Rhea said airily. "It's Camelot, set in the West Country, and they want a Scottish claymore. It's 400 miles out, I've said this, but the props team are insistent.""I think they are useless, but what should I say?" Rhea spoke in a silly voice and used dramatic hand movements, which made it clear that she knew she was being awkward. "Rhea, you are not taking a violent weapon with you to school," she said firmly, and Rhea chuckled. "Mum, I take a hockey stick every week, and you don't care about that." Her eyes sparkled. "And I reckon I've hit more people with it than hockey balls. Silly sport." I skipped past Rhea and shouted goodbye from the lounge; I had no wish to see Mum and Rhea row. Ingrid and I sat down with a coffee each, and Ray joined us for a drink. He asked me if there was any more photographic jobs pending, but apart from a fashion shoot for Olivia's niece, there was nothing on the horizon; his wish for a repeat performance with the mucky girls from Wycombe would go unfulfilled, unless he arranged it himself. "At least he is happy again," Ingrid whispered in my ear as I watched Rosie's expression from behind us. I never really quite understood why they split up - other than just two people moving apart - but Ray was always a quiet and thoughtful guy getting on with everyone and rarely being at the centre of a big group of people. He seemed to have changed recently to being more outward and chatty, and I wondered what Rosie made of Ray's new-found popularity. My musings were interrupted by a warm pair of hands enveloping my neck and a warm mouth nibbling at my ear. "Hello sexy," I told her and leant back to kiss my girlfriend. "Hello gorgeous," she whispered and giggled. "I'm in that mood," she warned, and I turned to see a pair of twinkly eyes. "Careers Library?" It was a hard life! Scarlet embraced me as I entered the little café, and I gestured for her to sit down before asking what she wanted to drink; she had sent me a text message (I guessed Abi passed my number onto her), and she had asked to meet me for a drink, which I was only too happy to do. I returned to the table with a teapot of tea, two scones, and a lemonade, and she sighed. "How am I supposed to drink all that?" I shrugged. "Said pot of tea, that's what they gave." "And scones?" She moaned. "I got a figure to maintain. Don't you know the camera adds pounds?" "Scarlet, you are so thin, does it matter about one scone?" Scarlet gave a snort. "So how did it go? I've not seen you for a month." Scarlet looked up as she poured about a quarter of the tea into a cup before adding milk and nodded, beaming at me. "Brilliant. My role got bigger, the director added a couple of scenes in. Not sure if it will make the final cut, but it was cool." I looked at her, and she bit her lip. "I was playing a prostitute, so I didn't wear many clothes all week. Well for a fortnight really. Dressing gown or naked. But Ben kept teasing me." "Ben?" She looked at me and held her hands out. "Ben Shymansky. You know, the really fit guy who played the Doctor in that wartime film. Nominated for ..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at my blank face, and she shook her head. "You are hopeless," she moaned. "But he kept teasing me. He played the romantic lead, and I was the 'other woman.' And I had a fight at the end." "So when's it out?" "It takes months from filming to release." "So Christmas?" She shook her head. "Six, nine, sometimes twelve months. Easter maybe. But I got an audition for some telly work next week. And I had one yesterday for a film." "Playing what?" "It's a mini-series about a lottery winner, but the film was about parent's swinging, and I would play the girlfriend of the son. It looks so much fun." I looked at her, and she shrugged. "Yeah, there're some nude scenes, but I don't mind them." "It's good," I told her. "I liked seeing you nude!" Scarlet blushed a little. "You are sixteen, you like seeing everyone nude." "That is true," I conceded and watched as she wiped her lips from the cream on the scone. "But you seem well happy." She nodded and went quiet for a moment before telling me that Eddie was distinctly unhappy. "He keeps thinking I'm going to run off," she admitted as she poured her second cup of tea from the teapot. "But I am not, I keep promising him, but he thinks that I will. And I really missed him. I mean, we might not have been together very long, but I missed him loads and spoke to him on the phone, but he's ... well, he wants me to be something I'm not." She rubbed her nose and took a bite of her scone. "And I don't want to lose him, but he just needs to realise that I really want a proper acting career and I am working hard for it." I took a deep breath. "That's a shame," I eventually replied. "I mean, Sarah already said she wants to work as a stripper before going to Uni - in the Summer holidays. I am not sure I want her to, but I'll just have to accept it if she does. But she's already got Isobel giving her lessons." "And what's wrong with stripping?" Scarlet asked with a wry smile. "It's the private dances you should be more worried about!" "Nothing. Well, I just worry about her at times. When she gets excited, it's like someone has poured Red Bull down her throat. She doesn't have the ability to moderate or take a step back." "That'll come with maturity," the actress suggested. "Everyone is like that a bit." "You're not." "You didn't know me as a sixteen-year-old. Sarah'll be the same, and Isobel said you two were good with each other. And I saw it at her flat." I just looked at her, and she rubbed the back of my hand. "What happened to get you two together?" I recounted the issue with Kevin, the trip to the Lake District, and then back home while Scarlet just smiled and listened; she was good at that and told me that I had the beginnings of a wonderful relationship, which I already knew. I was somewhat amazed by how many people kept telling me this as if it was something that I needed to be told. Dad, Mum, Angela, Scarlet, and Zoe had all made comments to that order, and both Sarah and I were blissfully happy; we simply didn't need to be told it so often. I also told Scarlet about Dad's driving lessons and my new photographic enterprises, which caused her to bite her lip. "I am not sure your Mum would approve," she told me, and I smiled. "Of course not," I replied. "Of course, she wouldn't. Which is why I haven't told her." Scarlet laughed as I poured the last cup of tea into her cup. "I have some pictures of you in my portfolio," I told her. "Gemma made me give her the ones I had of her when she became a teacher. I'd rather not get rid of the ones of you, but if you want them with your new career ... well, I understand." Scarlet stared into my eyes for a moment and ran her hands through her brunette hair. "It's OK," she told me. "I am not worthy of Hello or OK Magazine just yet. And I trust you." "OK, cheers. Umm ... well, if you want them," I found myself saying. "It'll be fine," I was told by the beautiful actress. "If I do make it, then I won't have been the first actress to have done stripping, and at least they are flattering!" I laughed, and we finished our drinks, and Scarlet grunted as we went to leave. "And Scarlet," I called as she hopped. "Your name's not really Scarlet, is it?" She giggled. "No." She waited for the inevitable question, but it wasn't forthcoming. "But I like it. I've always been fond of it. And you don't know me as what I really am. You know me as Scarlet." "I sort of do," I agreed. "But I do like the real you. Very much so." She smiled and looked at the table. "I like you too," she said with a grin and hopped again. "Now I am busting," she moaned, and Scarlet hurried to the lavatory. It was her own fault: she did drink four cups of tea! Mum opened the door and entered the room wearily; she had a tired, pained look about her as she did after every Parents' Evening - especially those about Rhea. "Why aren't you in bed?" Rhea snorted and turned back to the television that went off with a jerk of Mum's hand. "And you, Missy ..." "Oh what?" Rhea asked. "Let me guess, some of the teachers are whinging, whining, moaning little ..." "Rhea!" Mum snapped and pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. "I am fed up with going to these and hearing nothing but bad things about you." Rhea shrugged. "Then don't go. I don't want you to, and you clearly don't get much from it, so don't go. I don't want you to." "Shut up and listen," Mum barked. "Madame Dupois ..." "It's French," Rhea wailed. "Who cares about French?" Mum sucked in air and glared at her daughter. "I got asked why you picked this language as you clearly hate it." "She is correct, I do hate it. It is a pointless language. It'll be dead soon, and I picked it 'cause I hate the German teachers. And the whole Nazi incident last year ... well ..." Mum shook her head. "Well, you do it properly. I don't want to hear tales of your writing assignments like you've been writing. And she said you haven't turned up to the detentions she's set." Rhea sneered. "Oh them." "Yes them!" Mum gulped. "Mr Rogers, Physics, refuses to do her homework, doesn't turn up and very uncooperative when she does." "Yeah, but he grassed me up over Nathan. What the fuck did he expect?" "We both expect you to do your work. You are in school to learn," Mum shouted. "It's not good enough," she cried. "And Art, Mr Miller." "I didn't set you up an appointment with him," Rhea replied instantly. "You had no business seeing him. I didn't want you to speak to him." "I wanted to," came the response. "Rhea enjoys controversial pieces was the comment, and I now know about the painting you did of poor Lizzie Harper. What were you thinking?" "Oh mum, she's just a slut. We had to do something entitled "lips," and everyone thought it was brilliant. Even Mr Miller said it was well done if not a little ..." "Just grow up!" Mum shouted, a tear falling down her cheek. "You are at school to learn. Just ...""and Miss Reid, your IT teacher called you a nightmare and says you are the most difficult pupil she has ever known." "She is useless," Rhea told her, and Mum shook her head. "She is your teacher," she barked. "Show her some respect. And poor Dr Slaloh, what the hell were you thinking of?" Rhea shrugged. "Yeah, well, I didn't put the pigeon in the room before his lesson, and he can't prove ..." She trailed off as Mum scowled. "Something about a question you asked." "Ah, yes! That. Well, it was a perfectly reasonable question. If Jews circumcise babies, then could it be seen as child abuse? I mean, lobbing off little boys' cocks, that ain't right! So, aren't all the Jews sex offenders?" "He's Jewish," Mum thundered. "How do you think he felt?" Rhea bit her lip, and Mum took a deep breath. "Even the Chemistry lady, Miss... Miss, umm..." "Frobeyshire." "Yes, her, said you were silly but clever, and she then said you were her favourite pupil despite setting fire to the gas taps and copper-plating her glasses." Rhea snorted. "Favourite pupil? I shall have to see about that." Mum grabbed Rhea by the shoulders and pushed her into the sofa. "Listen to me! Grow up. You stupid, little girl. That's all you are, a little girl. This is your education. You won't get a second chance at it. I had the headteacher tell me that you are going to get yourself expelled, and every teacher complains to her about you. She's had complaints from pupils, parents..." "Did she give you any names?" Mum raised her hand and slapped Rhea across the cheek. "Shut up!" Rhea grumbled, and Mum glared at her, tears pouring down her cheek. "This is your education, and I was asked about whether the lack of a father figure in your life was proving detrimental. Your baby behaviour reflects on me." Rhea gulped and went to speak, but Mum continued before she could interrupt. "It stops now. And what's this about the Governors?" "Oh, Mum. I dealt with it," Rhea told her wearily. "I know. I heard all about it. Why didn't I know?" "'Cause I didn't tell you. I don't need you to fight my battles." Mum seethed for a moment and scowled. "Of all the appointments you made, only Chemistry, Geography and Maths said you would actually do work." "Mr Hall said I was good," Rhea asked, and a coy smile came over her face. Mum's eyes darted, and Rhea just nodded. "Nothing about a field trip then?" Mum glared at Rhea for a moment and rubbed her eyes. "I haven't finished with this. You are grounded, and you are definitely not going to the Christmas Party unless I start to see some real evidence of you working at school, young lady. I have been told you are on report, and I've got to go in every single Friday afternoon to check with the headteacher on your behaviour. How does that make me feel?" Rhea groaned and was sent to bed as she muttered the immortal teenage line, "So unfair." "And why did you have Mr Russell as the last appointment an hour and a half after the rest?" Rhea fidgeted, and Mum sniffed. "Almost as though you didn't want me to see him." "I didn't," Rhea snorted. "I was told to make an appointment by him." "All I got all evening was how difficult and disruptive you are, and then I speak to him." "Oh, I know," Rhea moaned. "I didn't want you to speak to him. He is just..." "Very complimentary," Mum interrupted. "Said you were his star pupil." "He didn't," Rhea cried, her eyes widening. "I am not his star pupil. He can't have said that. That isn't fair. He's just so... annoying!" Mum sniffed and wiped her eyes. "He did. I heard a lot about your homework," she told her daughter, and Rhea just snorted. "So why can you do it for him and none of the others?" Rhea gulped. "He told you about that?" Mum nodded, and she gave a coy smile. "He told me quite a lot about you. And that you are the most interesting of all his pupils. And does her homework." Rhea's eyes widened, and she clenched her fist. "'Cause... 'cause... 'cause he is so awkward. He..." "He has the measure of you totally," Mum told her with a faint smile. "So why can't all of your teachers say the same things?" "'Cause, I hate them, and I hate school," Rhea said firmly. "If I could burn it down, I would, and..." But Rhea didn't get to finish that sentence as Mum dragged her upstairs for a "damn good hiding." From my impartial position, it was thoroughly deserved.

Chapter VII

Authors/John_D/TXT/New Secrets VII.txt

MoFguy

Ziri and the circles

Ziri shrugged as she hurried along the dark streets of Amputeeton. She was tired, overworked, and stressed out - life was hard on her nowadays. As the only child of a family that had a glorious past, but was steadily declining in recent years, she had to shoulder a lot of responsibilities - she had her job cut out for her, a bigger chunk than she could handle. She was tall, measuring almost 190 centimeters (6'3"), and her usual high heels made her appear even taller. She liked the attention and the presence of authority they gave her, so she wore them constantly. Her hair was auburn and straight, in a braid that reached her waist. It was in a complex waterfall-braid style - since she was from a noble family, she wanted to emphasize her family's wealth, even though it was practically non-existent at this point. Appearances mattered a lot in Amputeeton. She used to have trouble with weight, but her current busy lifestyle made it easy for her to slim down. Luckily, she retained most of the fat in her boobs, measuring a decently sized C cup. She wore a long black dress that accentuated her slim figure, emphasized further with a wide leather belt. Her long legs were showing through the slits as she hurried along the dark, stony streets. It was always dark in Amputeeton. Being underground, the only light sources on the streets were the torches and the enchanted crystals that emitted light if anyone went near them. The whole city was hidden in the mountains, its streets, squares, and houses carved out of the very stone that served them as a home. It used to be different from this, history told - the city was just like any other back in the day, proudly in daylight, above the ground, but its differences from the rival cities slowly forced it underground, hidden from view. Ziri was not bothered by this, however. She grew up on these dark corridors, the first time she saw the Sun was when she reached her 10th year. What bothered her was the reason of the city's exile underground: the ignorance and the unacceptance of the nearby cities. Amputeeton was a city with a very strict caste system. Other ignorant cities labeled it slavery, even though it was only similar in some aspects. Sure, the lower class did not necessarily have any freedom, but they were still treated like feeling, living beings. The slaves even had the opportunity to regain their freedom sometimes, although it was really rare. On top of that, any cruel higher-class citizen was punished if he or she did not respect the wellbeing of their underlings. All in all, they had a good life - revolts were extremely rare, the last one was a couple hundred years ago. Ziri only had one of those underlings, the very maid that had a big part in raising her. When she moved away from her parents to focus on her studies, they could only spare a single slave, so she has chosen the one she loved the most. Her studies were two-fold: she was an official envoy of the city, well-versed in the different cultures and histories of the outside land. Her other, much more difficult task was the study to become a Master, the most prestigious profession there is. Masters had to solve multiple problems, sometimes really difficult ones - the official motto was, "There is no impossible." Ziri did not reach the higher ranks of Masters yet, but she had no trouble solving easy tasks - armlessness or legnessness was common in Amputeeton, and she already had practice in making those modifications. The common way to remove body parts from a person was to put a flexible piece of enchanted material on the "cut line", then perform the ritual - basically a spell. These enchanted materials were always circle-shaped, hence their official name, Circles. Of course, there was more than that to the procedure - the limb could be simply detached, or it could be vanished from existence for a while. The key to reassemble was to keep the Circles safe, because if they got damaged or destroyed, the modifications they caused were made permanent. Ziri's musings ended when she reached her small home. Upon entering, she was greeted by her only faithful slave, Mylene the Maid. She was older than Ziri - Ziri being 25, her maid 35 - but she looked as sexy as ever in her standard maid uniform. Ziri smiled as she watched her, her slim figure emphasized by her currently armless shoulders, bust-lifting corset, and short, leg-revealing maid-skirt. Before leaving, Ziri left Mylene in an armless state, to make cleaning an extra challenge for the experienced slave. "Hello, Mylene. I hope your day was well spent and productive. I need you to wash me, and since I am tired as hell, to make it quicker, I will restore your arms for a bit." With that, she produced the two Circles that were responsible for vanishing Mylene's arms for the day. Ziri always carried those - not that her slave would be able to restore them without proper knowledge, but the thought of leaving her at home armless while carrying the only way to restore them was really arousing. Ziri was not cruel, but she sure as hell liked to dominate people. After fixing the Circles to each corresponding arm stump, Ziri cast the restoration-spell, watching as they slowly emerged into existence. She let her slave adjust to the feeling of having arms for a bit, while she stripped out of her boots and clothes, the warm inner-mountain air feeling good on her naked body. "The bath now, please. And bring my nightgown set." Ziri usually let Mylene wash her while being armless, but she was tired today, and wanted to be done as fast as possible. She climbed into the hot bathtub, letting her daily problems slip away while she relaxed. She only realized Mylene returned when she felt her hairdo come undone. With speed and precision, the slave undid every knot in her mistress's hair, then started applying soap to Ziri's white skin. She is happy to have her arms back for a while, Ziri mused - she left her slave armless more often than not, imagining her struggling with mundane tasks all day, not even able to relieve her sexual frustration without her hands. Mylene was horny as hell, but she knew that her mistress's needs were above hers. She applied generous amounts of soap to every inch of her mistress's body, including her erogenous zones - she knew Ziri would not mind. When done, Ziri put on her pink panties and nightgown set - it was way different from her usual domineering style of clothing, but she loved to feel like a pampered girl at home. The gown was see-through, and even though only she and Mylene would be able to see her goods tonight, it just felt good to wear kinky clothing like that. The frilly panties were snug against her recently cleaned pussy lips, and she knew she would be soaking through them soon. When she assumed that her slave was done cleaning herself, she called her. "I would like a body-pillow for tonight, as usual. I hope you don't mind, Mylene. Just lay on the bed, face up." Mylene did mind, mostly because there was a good chance she would not reach orgasm today, but she knew better than to talk. Ziri applied two Circles to each of her shoulders, as close to her ribcage as possible, then two additional to her legs, right below her buttocks, then started chanting. Mylene felt the feelings in her limbs slowly fade away, which emphasized her sense of touch on her remaining body parts. She suddenly felt the cool texture of the sheets below her back and buttocks, each change of the slightly clammy current of air, each drop of juice that was dripping from her shaved pussy... and there was nothing she could do about it. Ziri put out most of the torches, then sat down next to her. Her body felt hot on Mylene's skin, and the slave knew her work was not done for today. Not yet. "I am so horny I could explode. I require your oral services. If you can reach my pussy without help, I will reward you with an orgasm." And with that, she turned the surprised Mylene over onto her chest, lay next to her, opened her legs, and started rubbing herself. Mylene knew her mistress often overdid it, and reached an orgasm without her help - and that would mean an orgasmless night for herself. Propped on her stomach changed many things - it meant she might be able to reach orgasm even without her mistress's help. Her large, D cup breasts flattened slightly by her own weight, her large, sensitive nipples scraping against the sheets, her pussy pressured slightly by the mattress underneath when she pulled her hips back in... But she knew better than that. Mistress was first. She had a hard time moving. Obviously, quads were not really meant to move, but her mistress loved teasing her like that. She pulled her hips in, "anchored" herself as well as she could, then straightened her upper body. Her boobs were a major hindrance - they were heavy, they got in the way as she slid herself forward ever so slightly, and provided a distracting stimulating feeling. Nevertheless, she slowly and steadily moved ahead, her progress marked by wet patches on the sheets where her pussy was just anchored.Meanwhile, Ziri was watching her, her arousal growing as she watched her sexy slave inch herself closer and closer to her pussy, using almost every available muscle in her tiny body to propel herself forward. Mylene, instead of going around her mistress's legs, decided to go over them, hooking herself onto the shin first with her chin, then with her heavy bosom. When she was over her mistress's leg, she took a short break, catching her breath - moving like this was hard work. Her pussy rested exactly on her mistress's shin, releasing even more than the usual amount of cunt-juice. Ziri did not wait any longer, too impatient to wait for her slave to turn the 90 degrees she still needed to reach her destination. She grabbed her slave on her ribcage, her fingers sinking into the softly protruding sideboobs, pulled her to her crotch, then lay down again. Mylene was experienced in giving oral services, and even though she was not really able to adjust her position, she knew her mistress did not need much more to reach her peak. Propped up by her boobs, her mouth was at a perfect height to give a few kisses to her mistress's outer labia. Her tongue came next, easily reaching inside Ziri's wet hole, savoring the taste of the female sap. This was exactly the stimulation that Ziri needed - she kept her right hand on her clit, while her left hand pushed her slave's head deep onto her pussy as she reached a shrieking orgasm, her legs clamping together, constricting the small body between them even more. After cooling down, Ziri grabbed her cunt-soaked slave, turned her tits-up, and pulled her up to her head. Mylene's body was soft to the touch as Ziri started properly fondling her. The slave could do nothing but watch as her mistress kneaded, rubbed and massaged her boobs, occasionally pinching the nipples. When she decided that her slave was teased enough, she put one finger in each of her slave's holes, the soft tissues easily giving way to her demanding fingers. Mylene did not last long either, her orgasm much more quiet than her mistress - only soft mewls left her mouth. After their lovemaking, Ziri put out the last remaining torch with a quick spell, too tired to get up, then made herself comfortable, her head resting cozily on the soft boobs of her part-time pillow slave. "I hope you are comfortable, my slave. I sure am."

1 - introduction

Authors/MoFguy/Ziri and the circles/Ziri and the circles1 - introduction.txt

Home Improv/3rd Rock 4

Zack looked on in anticipation as Joey crawled over to where he was sitting. Meanwhile, Jon's cock had grown to an almost painful erection due to the excitement of Joey's orgasm, and he needed release, so he walked over to where Zack was sitting and argued who would get Joey. Joey saw the fight and jumped in to calm them down. "Boys! I can do both of you at the same time!" When he heard this, Jon eagerly pulled out his hard cock and waited for Joey to begin. True to his word, Joey took Jon's dick in his mouth and started sucking it with long, slow strokes, while jacking off Zack with the same long, slow motion. With the teasing of Joey's soft hands and warm, wet mouth, he soon had Jon and Zack moaning in pleasure at the sweet torture they were enduring. It soon became a contest to see who could hold out longer between the two boys, and Joey made it harder by increasing the tempo of his pleasuring and using his thumb to rub Zack's cock head and slit softly, while teasing Jon's with the tip of his tongue. It soon became obvious who would win, as Jon began involuntarily thrusting into Joey's mouth. "I can't...I'm gonna..." Jon started moaning. Jon's resistance finally broke as his young body tensed, and he shut his eyes tightly, and then an involuntary yelp flew past his lips, and he shook as cum squirted fiercely out of the tip of his cock, and he kept thrusting hard to prolong his pleasure throes, and Joey, not wanting to disappoint, sucked even harder, getting every last drop of cum out of his cock, and making JTT squirm with ecstasy. Zack felt the triumph of beating his friend in this contest, but soon the manual stimulation became too much for him, as his pre-cum lubricated cock head flew effortlessly past Joey's clenched fist, he could feel his orgasm building. Zack thrusted forward hard as it hit him, and cum blasted out of his cock and hit Joey and Jon, while some flew across the room and landed on the carpet and wall. Stream after stream flew out, and he kept thrusting until he had come down from his powerful cum. He felt tired and spent, but looking up and seeing Joey's handsome face and gorgeous long black hair matted with his cum, made his cock wake up and begin to get hard again. Jon looked down on his friend, with Zack's cum dripping off his face and short blond hair, and he could feel the arousal begin again. They would continue to do this every day, each other's special friend. And they all lived happily ever after.... THE END....Well, there might be more with a similar theme, but this is it for the series. Remember: Sexual contact of any kind carries risks to it..Be Careful!

Joey plays with Zack and Jon

Authors/Bryant's_Book/Hi9.txt

Home Improvement 3

Zack sat down on the bed where Jon had sat and removed his clothes. He was eager with anticipation, and his cock was already rock hard. Jon kneeled in front of Zack and looked up at him. "Just do what I did to you," Zack responded to Jon's unasked question. Jon's dick ached from a few minutes ago, but he could already feel it getting hard again. He used his renewing horniness to dive full throttle on Zack's cock. He sucked it up and down and ran his tongue over the slit, just like Zack had done to him. Zack soon started breathing heavily and moaning just like he had. Jon could feel his cock getting hard again, and he couldn't stand it anymore, so while he sucked Zack's cock, he jerked off with his free hand. Zack was moaning in ecstasy in seconds, and Jon knew that it wouldn't be long before Zack had his orgasm. At the same time, Jon was furiously pumping his still wet dick, and he was pretty close to his second orgasm. He sucked furiously on Zack's dick, and after a few moments, Zack yelled, "Oh God...I'm CUMMING!" and he spurted stream after stream of hot cum into Jonathan's mouth while hollering as waves of pleasure washed over Zack's body. This set off Jon, and Zack's cum dripped out of his mouth as he moaned in pleasure and shook with each wave of his second orgasm of the night, and he spurted more of his juice all over the carpet below him, then collapsed next to the puddle and moaned. Zack was lying back on the bed sweating like crazy with his cock still dripping, while Jon was still recovering from his own orgasm. Zack sat up slowly and turned his head towards Jon, and smiled when he saw the puddle on the carpet. "Twice in five minutes...You have SOME stamina!" Jon smiled at the joke and said breathlessly, "Great evening so far! If I don't get some sleep though, I won't have the energy to get up tomorrow for the show taping!" Zack stood up and started getting dressed again. "This doesn't make us gay or anything, does it?" Jon asked. "Of course not!" Zack responded, "it's only logical that who better to know what makes you feel good than another guy. I'd be willing to do it again sometime!" Jon looked down at his sticky cock and said, "Let me have a chance to recover. After tonight, I don't think I'll be horny for a while!" Zack got up and said, "You'd be surprised the stamina in a man's body!" then he left the room, leaving Jon cleaning up the carpet and thinking, once more, about Michelle. "I wonder what would happen if me and Michelle..." He stopped that thought, and, once the carpet was clean, he put back on his underwear and went back to bed, still with the taste of Zachary's cum in his mouth. He quickly fell asleep and started dreaming about tomorrow... Continued in Part 4... Remember: You CAN catch STD's from oral sex, so always play it safe and make sure you and your partner are clean before engaging in anything of a sexual nature.

Story - Home Improvement 3

Authors/Bryant's_Book/Hi3.txt

JTCIII

Zatanna: Hex Appeal

Zatanna: Hex Appeal 13 weeks. That's how long, appropriately enough, Zatanna had been seeing Dr. Terry Thirteen for. It was a relationship that had by all rights taken her completely by surprise. If Zatanna were to picture her perfect man, she had to admit to herself that Terry wouldn't be the first guy -- or even the thirteenth guy -- who would leap to mind. It's not that he was unattractive...quite the opposite, in fact. She liked the whole geek chic thing he had going on, and his body was certainly nothing to sneeze at. But his skepticism in regard to the supernatural was something that Zatanna was quickly growing to find completely infuriating. No matter how much evidence she showed him of the occult, he always found some way to rationalize it. It might have been cute to start with, in an "opposites attract" kind of way, but now she was just starting to find it exasperating. As obstinately narrow-minded as he may be, however, he was still a good guy, and Zatanna felt like she owed him a chance. So when he'd asked her along to his book launch in Gotham City, she had of course accepted. She had even resolved to help get him some free publicity by showing up in full costume -- her high heels, fishnet stockings, bustier, tuxedo jacket and top hat. There was a throng of journalists milling about the entrance as Zatanna showed up, all hurling questions about rumors of her falling out with the Justice League and what she intended to do now. She'd politely offered "No comment" as she'd hurried inside. But it was no different in there. Every guest wanted to ask her about Batman, or Black Canary, or if she'd be interested in performing at their kid's birthday party. Some were even asking her to sign copies of Terry's book, while completely ignoring the author himself standing next to her. "I'm so sorry about this," she said after they'd managed to find a quiet corner. "Don't be," he said with a smile. "We've sold out of every copy." She laughed, a little surprised at how much of a comfort he was in the midst of all this chaos. After Terry gave his speech and they'd both taken advantage of the open bar, she offered to split a cab with him back to her place. He'd agreed, of course, but when they'd been dropped off at a vacant lot on the outskirts of the city, he'd been more than a little confused. "Uh...Zee? You don't live in a tent or something, do you? "On the contrary," she replied with a smirk and a tip of the hat, before turning to face the rambling estate in front of her. "Raeppa tsercwodas!" In a whirlwind of sound and fury, a vast mansion came to fill the vacant space, its towering peaks rippling as it unsheathed itself from the parallel dimension it had been occupying until now. "Wow!" Terry exclaimed, and for a moment Zatanna thought she'd finally convinced him of the existence of magic. "Hologram, right? Or some kind of high-tech, JLA-issue teleportation device?" Zatanna let out a frustrated sigh. "Come in," she said, walking him down to the ornate front door. "This is my place -- Shadowcrest, it's called," she unlocked the door and commanded the lights on. They were standing in a huge receiving room, a chandelier hanging over a curving staircase. "It's funny, it's been three months now and this is the first time I've seen your place," Terry said from behind her. She felt his arms snake around her waist, his chest against her back and, more importantly, his crotch against her ass. She could tell already that he was aroused. "Shadowcrest is a very...private place," Zatanna said as she felt Terry's lips on her neck, his hands roaming her body. "I only let in people I trust." "I'm honored," he said, his kisses growing longer, his lips parting slightly. "Mmmm," she moaned as she closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side. She could really feel the champagne she'd had earlier taking full effect. Slowly, he moved her around so that she was facing him, allowing him to brush his lips with hers, inviting her into a kiss. One kiss led to another, the passion growing, their tongues playing against one another. All the while, Terry's hands continued to explore the curves of Zatanna's body, so frustratingly hidden away by her clothes. The heat behind their kisses grew stronger and stronger, until it was painfully apparent that a change in venue was imminently needed. They wasted no more time, Zatanna leading the way as, kissing and groping all the while, they stumbled into the room that Zatanna called Shadowcrest's "comfort chamber" -- a small haven dedicated to relaxation, decorated with nothing but soft rugs, candles, and hundreds of harem pillows. As far as lovers went, Terry was by no means incompetent. Zatanna always enjoyed her time with him, though whatever pleasure he offered her was always of the more earthly variety. She had tried to tutor him in the ways of tantra, much as she had explored with Constantine, but he hadn't really shown that much interest. She'd attempted to outline the mystic symbolism of the cup and the wand, and how everything they did as a part of sex had greater, universal meaning. The attention Terry paid came across as simple humoring. Zatanna had been left with no choice but to just accept him and his view of sex for what it was. If he wasn't going to journey with her to realms of other-dimensional pleasure and higher planes of understanding, the least she could get out of him was a damn good fucking. With the couple having retired to the comfort chamber, Terry seized the chance to quickly pop open each button that lined Zatanna's corset, her large, firm breasts spilling out. He groaned at the sight of them, lowering his head to offer his mouth to them, peppering her with kisses and licking at her nipples. Zatanna tilted her head back once more, granting him full access, but even as she did she couldn't help but reflect on how unlikely it was that he'd remove much more of her clothing than this. So few men ever did. They always liked her outfit too much. She felt his hand on her crotch, causing her to cry out in surprise and then coo in pleasure. The warmth of her arousal radiated through the material of her panties, and she knew that there was at least one more piece of clothing she was set to lose. But not yet. Slowly, Terry slid his hand inside the tight restraint of her underwear, his fingertips drifting along the soft outer folds of her pussy. Zatanna groaned at his touch, her thighs shifting apart to accommodate him. She shuddered as she felt him part her outer folds to trace the hot moisture he found within. "Oh, Zee..." he whispered. "You're so wet." "Inside me," she replied breathlessly. "I want your fingers inside me." He smiled as he decided to tease her instead, continuing to slide his fingers up and down the length of her, softly flicking her clitoris. "Oh fuck!" She moaned, her muscles coiling at the sensation. She bit her lip, desperate for more, which he soon indulged her in by pushing two of his fingers deep into her tight, wet softness. "Yes!" As he started to push his fingers in and out of her, coating them in her juices, his thumb sought out her clit. He brushed it lightly before coming to rub it in circles, his fore and middle fingers pumping her the entire time. She could feel her desire welling inside her, and almost without thinking a spell jumped from her lips. "Trihs ylf nepo!" Terry's shirt magically blew open, leaving Zatanna free to kiss and nuzzle his bare chest while the sounds of his fingers squishing in her cunt came to fill the room. As if sensing how close Zatanna was getting, Terry threw her for a sudden surprise by pushing her back down against the pillows and tugging her panties off. She cooed again as his hands found her inner thighs, pulling apart her pussy and her ass cheeks so she was left splayed open, exposed. He smiled at her, before lowering his head to her lap and with one long, firm stroke licked her from the puckered rosebud of her asshole to the tingling tip of her clitoris. "Unh!" She cried out, before sliding into a velvety moan. "Ohhhh fuuuck." He took another lick of her, and then another. His tongue pressed into her parted pussylips, slipping inside her deeper and deeper. Zatanna's head swam in waves of ecstasy as Terry's lapping tongue was joined by his pulsating, drilling fingers. She could already feel the familiar warmth of orgasm spreading over her, running through her, and as it drew closer she didn't fight it. Instead, she dug her fingers into the pillows beneath her, her curled toes dragging along the rug. She coiled tight, and then exploded. "Oooohhhhhhhh my Goddddd!" She practically screamed in delight. "I'm cumming! I'm fucking cummmmmmingggggggaaaaaahhhhhh!Zatanna lurched, again and again, as wave after wave of bliss rocked her body. Terry's chin was soon dripping with the evidence of her passion. He looked up at her with a proud little smile on his face. But Zatanna wasn't finished yet. "Stnap ffo!" She commanded, Terry's pants whipping away with a trail of magic sparkles following in their wake. "One of these days I'm going to work out how you do those tricks," he said to her as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "I'm tired of teasing," she replied, sidestepping their endless debate about the reality of magic. "I want you to shut up and fuck my brains out." She wrapped her stockinged legs around his waist, hoisting him tantalizingly close to her steaming cunt. His member, still trapped by the confinement of his underwear, pressed up against her. He only grinned in response to her, dutifully following her command by quickly stripping off his underpants and positioning the throbbing head of his shaft at her slippery entrance. Terry wasted no time with ceremony. He slid into Zatanna's wet pussy with one firm, deep push. They both groaned and gasped as he delved deeper and deeper inside her, finally coming to rest at the hilt of his cock. She could feel his pubic hair tickling her stretched pussy lips, his tight balls resting against the thin wall between her vagina and her anus. "Oh, Jesus! Zee! You're so fucking tight!" He exclaimed, the full weight of his chest pressing down on her. She scratched her nails through his hair and leaned up to suck his lip. He pulled up and out of her, only the tip of his cock left inside her, before he pushed down again, sliding all the way inside. With each repetition, his actions grew faster, harder, more desperate, until finally he was pumping in and out of her, the head of his cock rasping against the folds of her pussy. Zatanna could feel herself building up to cum again, but she didn't want it to happen again so soon. She wanted it to be more intense this time...and she knew exactly how to do that. She placed a soft hand against Terry's firm chest and looked up at him with smoldering eyes. He practically froze in place, without any hint of magic being used. He looked down at her, puzzled. "I want you..." she said in a hushed, seductive tone. "...to fuck me in the ass." This was something that Zatanna had of course done before, but until now not with Terry. She almost laughed at the speed of his assent. He pulled himself out of her, his cock's strained helmet exiting with a popping sound. Zatanna cast him a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk as she started to work the juices of their combined pleasure between her fingers, massaging her now pulsating cunt. Terry greedily watched her, distracted only for a moment by the sight of the dusky, hardened nipples adorning her full, perfect breasts. When he returned his gaze to her crotch and her ministrations there, he found her three knuckles deep inside her own pussy. Zatanna closed her eyes and bit her lip, removing her fingers from her vagina to Terry's obvious disappointment, only to run them down to her asshole, rubbing her fluids into her small, pink hole in order to lubricate it. She breathed out soft little moans as she slid her middle finger inside her ass, lost in the feelings she was offering herself. She was brought back to reality, however, by the feel of Terry's breath on her neck, his lips on her throat, as he gently coaxed her into turning around, positioning her on her hands and knees. Terry took full advantage of the natural lube that Zatanna had worked into her little hole. Positioning himself against her, he pushed in slowly, sliding bit by tiny bit into Zatanna's ass. Whatever moans she had offered before were positively dwarfed now by the cries of pleasure that escaped her as every smooth inch of Terry's cock came to rest inside her. "That's it, Terry! Fuck me! Fuck me in my ass!" She panted. For his part, Terry remained quietly stoic, concentrating too much to allow himself to fully surrender to the sensation of being so deep inside the beautiful, raven-haired magician. Zatanna couldn't help herself. Her hand once again found her pussy, and she quickly began to frig her clit. Terry was a good guy, but at the moment he was just being too damn gentle! She pushed back against him eagerly, needing more of him, needing it harder, faster, now! He soon got the idea and began to saw back and forth, the front of his thighs slapping against her fishnet stockings. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!" Zatanna cried. She pushed back harder and harder, surprising Terry when she suddenly stopped, dropping forward and pushing her ass higher into the air. This small change in position allowed Zatanna to flick her wand free from its hiding place up her sleeve. She gave it a quick kiss, murmuring. "My trusty old friend," before adding, "Ndaw etarbiv!" The wand sprang to life in her hand, the sound of vibrations coming to mingle with the slaps and squelches of their union. She quickly offered the vibrating wand to her pussy, grinding it against her clit with such acute precision that it sent a strong, instantaneous shudder rippling through her entire body. It caused her ass to clench down around Terry's cock, compelling them both to cry out. Zatanna drove the wand against her clit until it felt like she was going to explode, and then she flicked it up, sliding it deep and fast into her dripping pussy. "Unh! Unh! Aah! Ooohhhhhhh!" She screamed, pushing the wand further into her cunt. All the while, Terry refused to let up in his thrusting. He was now pounding against Zatanna's ass, causing her cheeks to ripple with each plunge of his cock. His hands came up to grab her tits, squeezing the soft flesh, her nipples hard against his palms. "Oh fffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" Zatanna cried out, the wand vibrating as mercilessly as Terry was in fucking her. "I'm going to----!----to!" The lights in the room began to burn hot, then flickered, as Zatanna screamed through clenched teeth. Her pussy swelled around her wand as every muscle in her body went rigid. "----cccuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmm!" It was as if the room was hit by a lightning strike as Zatanna erupted. The lights blazed off and on, the fireplace on the other side of the room roared to sudden life. Zatanna's breath exploded from her thick and ragged as every ounce of her being luxuriated in the sparkling sensation of utter, physical joy. If Terry noticed any of the unusual phenomena happening all around him, he gave no sign of it. Instead, with his brow creased and dripping with sweat, he focused solely on the ripe, firm flesh beneath him, and the sense of imminent release that hovered in front of him. "Oh, God, Zatanna!" He said, the feeling of every inch of his lover's body quivering beneath him proving too much. "I'm...I'm going to cum too!" "In my mouth!" She cried, not missing a beat. "Cum in my mouth!" In one swift motion, Terry pulled out of Zatanna's ass to offer his cock to her, while she in turn swung around, her lips parting. She grabbed his hard shaft and pumped one, two, three times as her mouth found his engorged helmet. She could already taste the bitter tang of his pre-cum. She squeezed him hard, milking him, as he started to shoot his hot load inside her mouth. "Oh sssshhhhhhhhit!" He grunted as Zatanna moaned around his cock, her throat glugging as she swallowed every drop of his cum, his elixir of life. It was salty and thick, and with the right amount running through her system Zatanna knew at least half a dozen rituals she could perform after he left. "Oh God...oh God..." Terry murmured, his shaft still throbbing in Zatanna's mouth and in her hand as she milked him for all she could. Finally, her mouth slackened, leaving him to fall away from her, landing in the harem pillows. Her lips and chin were left coated in a mixture of her saliva and his semen. She used her fingertips to clean herself up, running her tongue over the liquid she collected as she wiped herself off. She found a few spare drops that had splattered on her breasts, which she quickly dabbed up, offered to her lips and murmured, "Mmmm, Terry...that was exactly what I needed. Was it..." Her thought was left broken at the sight of him sprawled out naked on the pillows, snoring. "...Good for you too?" Zatanna sighed. She prodded him, but all he did was stir before rolling over, his back to her. Zatanna quickly gave up the idea of any kind of pillow talk and elected instead to go for a shower. As she lathered herself up under the warm jets of water, she wondered to herself exactly what the hell she was doing. She could rationalize it all she wanted, but the fact of the matter was that she and Terry were just incompatible. She was wasting her time. She dried off with another quick spell and, after pulling a robe around herself, walked out to the comfort chamber, fully resolved to wake him up and dump him there and then. But instead, she found him already up and fully dressed. "Ah, there you are," he said. "I'm sorry, Zee, I have to get going. The babysitter will be having a fit wondering where I am. I've already called a cab." "Oh...uh...yeah, okay," she said, caught off-guard. She walked him to the front door, where he stopped to talk to her. "I had an incredible night," he said, kissing her gently. "Yeah..." she replied. "...Me too." "We're still on for Friday, right?" "Huh?" Zatanna replied, confused. "The séance thing, or whatever it is, at your friend's place?" "Oh, right! Of course, yeah." Zatanna had completely forgotten. She'd agreed to take Terry along to a ritual at Winter's mansion.It had been at the height of her campaign to prove the existence of magic to Terry. "I'm looking forward to it," Terry said. "Though I still say it's all stage tricks." "You'll see. You'll be eating your words in three days' time." "Sure I will, Zatanna, sure I will." He said in a voice that was meant to be humorously mocking but just came across hopelessly patronizing. There was a honk from outside. The cab was waiting. They shared a final goodnight kiss, and he was on his way. Zatanna stood watching him leave for a moment before closing the door behind her. All these years and still no closer to finding the man of her dreams. Walking into her private office, she pulled the robe off and put on a pair of spare stockings. It was a lucky thing Terry had reminded her about the ritual that was coming up. She'd meant to purify herself in preparation for it earlier in the evening, but had obviously been completely sidetracked. As she sat down on the carpet to begin the meditative practices necessary, her mind wandered once more to Terry. With his semen still in her belly, it occurred to her that, should she select the right purification trance, she could be shown a vision of her perfect man. No, she sighed. That kind of magic was always too risky. Or was it? One thing was certain, however. A 14th week with Dr. Thirteen was completely out of the cards. No matter how good the sex may be.

Authors/JTCIII/zatanna-hex-appeal.txt

Annihilation Part 3

Zharia was hanging out with her homegirls whom she had been hanging with since almost the beginning. They didn't really care that she was out fart torturing other girls that messed with her or annoyed her; they even kind of encouraged it. "Zharia, you may be one gassy girl, but according to this article I read, Nicki Minaj let out a 45-second fart once!" Diamond said. "45 seconds? I love Nicki Minaj, and I think that's very impressive," Zharia replied, scratching her head. "We're not even sure if it's real or not because allegedly her friend caught it on video because she was disgusted and put it on YouTube. It's not even on YouTube, and I don't think it ever was," Deja investigated. "Well, I mean, it might not be true, but if it is, I'm sure Zharia can rip a longer one," Diamond claimed. "45 seconds is a while, but if I can eat a lot and just hold in all my gas, I could possibly pull it off!" Zharia thought out loud. "Just don't let me near you, hahaha!" Diamond laughed. "This is a hypothesis we must test!" Courtney said as she slapped Zharia's fine and fat behind that was tight in her jeans. Her ass was very flat compared to Zharia's, and Diamond's was close to being the size of Zharia's. "And to make it more fun, we must get Breanna and another very unlucky chick at the high school!" Zharia added as this evil plan was being thought out slowly. "Surprise me. Just bring Breanna to me by the end of school tomorrow; I'm staying home. I have to eat as much as I can - all those foods that you know make me extremely gassy. Boy, Breanna survived last time, but I'm not sure about this time. Or the surprise girl either," Zharia said. "We got your back always, Zharia. Everyone knows we're the strongest clique of seniors at DelpWood High!" Diamond was all hyped. "I'll even bring you back the school pinto beans; I remember that night you had gas explosions," Deja said as they left out. It was almost 11 pm. Zharia went to bed and slept at peace. It was experiment day for the black chicks as Zharia stayed at home munching on anything she could after her parents left to prepare to shock her friends and herself. Meanwhile, Deja, Courtney, and Diamond chose wisely on who the second victim would be. They had a few thoughts on Kasey, but they figured the leader, Zharia, wanted a fresh face. "This shit gotta be real good 'cause I'ma be farting as much as I can on whoever we pick too!" Diamond ordered. Finally, after a lot of thinking during lunch, they decided to go with Gwendy, who was a blonde girl who really thought she was the shit because she was one of the few white girls who actually had an ass at the school. So she was cocky and disrespectful, and the girls didn't like her. "Yes! She'll be perfect! She always wants to catch an attitude with somebody, but she gon' learn today!" Diamond vowed. "Fuck, I'd better go buy those beans for Zharia; those should be the finishing touch to a perfect torture!" Deja speed-walked back to the cafeteria. "Yeah, that's definitely the final ingredient for Zharia. Just being in a room with her after she eats that is horrible!" Courtney cried, going back to the time. "I can imagine Zharia will be very excited about our choice!" Diamond said proudly. Around 2 o'clock, school was out, and the team's first target was Gwendy. Luckily, they found her staying after for softball practice, and they were able to together restrain and capture her, putting Zharia's new acquired slave in Courtney's trunk. Now they had to get Breanna just like Zharia had ordered. They were able to catch her before she got into her car and drove off. "Hey, Breanna, remember us?" Diamond said, smiling. "Yes. Where's the main bitch of your little gang, and what the fuck do you want?" Breanna said very sassy. "I'm not even gon' lie, Zharia wants to see you; there's no backing out either. You must see her unless you wanna get fucked up," Diamond said. "What? Hell no! So I can get set up and farted all over again? Fuck you, and have a nice day, bitches!" Breanna flipped them off and got into her car, but they all ganged up on her and restrained her, putting her in the backseat of Courtney's car. "Breanna, I see you haven't learned your lesson from the last punishment you received, but Zharia promised you would really get it this time in her experiment!" Diamond yelled. "I have! I just don't want to go through this shit again! I don't see how you guys get away with this sick shit, after Zharia did that I called the police!" "Listen, Breanna, you should know by now that we are untouchable, and nobody fucks with us! We have a lot of other chicks by our side; ain't no cops gonna do shit in a town like this! You just keep your mouth shut!" Deja informed. "What kind of experiment is Zharia gonna do?" Breanna asked. "Well, if ya really wanna know, she's going to test how long she can make her farts, so pretty much all day she's been preparing so she can be at her gassiest!" Zharia had just finished eating enchiladas and a dessert full of ice cream and cake. She opened the door, and they brought in both girls. "Have them on the couch. Deja, you got those pinto beans?" "You bet your big fat black ass I do!" they all laughed as Zharia looked in the container and saw there was a whole lot in there. "Whoa. It's already hard enough to hold my farts in, but after I eat this shit, I know I'll blow!" Zharia said as she began to dig in. "Luckily, Deja packed us with dentist masks so we don't have to smell that funk! What a fuckin' lifesaver she is!" Courtney yelled all thankfully. "And that's just the beginning, ladies. I planned ahead big time and have provided both of our unlucky bitches with oxygen masks so they won't pass out, but they will be forced to smell all my gas and stay awake until I've run out! And believe me, I am gassed up!" Zharia said as she still ate the beans. "Ooh! Zharia! I feel a fart coming; can I let it fly on Gwendy's face?" Diamond asked, already squatting over her face as Deja held Gwendy's head. "Sure, why not let it fly!" *ROMPHOPOPOPOOPTT!* It was very bubbly as it went up Gwendy's nose, burning through the jeans crack of the thick ebony beauty. Zharia bent over to Breanna's level and burped right in her face. Breanna was forced to smell the nasty burp breath due to being tape-gagged like Gwendy was also. It stunk so bad for Breanna, and she screamed as much as she could. Gwendy then received one so that she could also experience the beginning of torture. "Damn, girl, that was loud as fuck!" Courtney yelled as they began to put their dentist masks on.Zharia insisted as she got ready, spreading her cheeks apart even more to make sure Breanna could really breathe in through her nostrils. Breanna groaned and squirmed around, moving her head, but Courtney held it back in place tightly. *BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPMMMMMPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHTTTTRAMMMPHHH!* Zharia sighed, and it all rushed up Zharia's nose, and she coughed through her gag and was in complete anguish. "That was 32 seconds," Diamond told Zharia. "Fuck! I know I can do better! That shit really stank too, shit I need a dentist mask too! Fuck that's rancid even for me!" Zharia said as she was handed one. "You should gas Gwendy, I think I'm all gassed out." Diamond got off of Gwendy's now red face, then burped right in her nose. "Good idea. Can't put a fart-smelling bitch to waste." Zharia sat on Gwendy's face and bounced on it. Breanna was very relieved. Zharia opened her asscheeks over Gwendy's nose and expelled a huge *TROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMPHHHHHHHHHHHHTTTTROMPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHTROOPPHHHHT!* Right up her nose. Gwendy felt very woozy after that as she groaned at the bad smell. "37 seconds, you're getting closer!" "Fuck! Come on, big ass, I know you can do this! Courtney, after this fart clears, put an oxygen mask on Gwendy. I just know that was deadly...very fucking deadly." Zharia rubbed her brown asshole all over Gwendy's nose and scrubbed it. After the rank fart went away, Gwendy got oxygen so she wouldn't pass out, or maybe even die. Zharia went back to Breanna. "Did you miss me?" Zharia was face to face with her brunette-haired bitch. Zharia spit on her face and plopped her big ass on Breanna's face. *BRAPPT!* *FRAMMPHHT!* Zharia looked at the camera. "This is so much fun. This is me at my stankest! This is my worst torture ever!" Gwendy's face was shoved up Diamond's ass as she couldn't breathe. Breanna's nose burned very badly. Zharia once again opened those big black asscheeks over her nostrils. *FROOOOOOOOOIIIIIIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMTRANNMMMMMMMMPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!* The fart was all baked, and it lit up Breanna's nostrils like fire, it was so hot and stinky. "63 seconds!" Diamond screamed. "Yes!" Zharia cheered as she stayed in position until the fart went away to torture Breanna as much as she could. Zharia was back on Gwen's face while Breanna got her oxygen after being literally stunk up. *ROOIMPHHHT!* Went her ass as the smell hit Gwendy's nose like a wrecking ball. Zharia sighed as she sputtered some shit in the next one. *SHHHHHRIPPPTTLOPPPT!* Gwendy's face was covered in a little shit. Breanna, wide awake now, as she looked at Zharia, then got very scared. Zharia got back on her face a third time. "This is gonna be bad.." *VRAMPPPHTTT* *SLOSSSHHH!* A big fart, followed by a sloppy turd. It was incredible, and Zharia took Breanna's gag off and forced her to eat it. "Oh my God, please, no!" Breanna pleaded. "Eat it, or it'll be over for you, I can kill you with this ass. Eat up, bitch." Zharia ordered. Breanna ate the sloppy turd in agony, then Zharia released another hot, steamy big turd in her mouth. Breanna nearly choked on it, but she had to chew and swallow. Diamond even took a shit on Gwendy and made her eat it, before Gwendy threw up and passed out. "Take Goldilocks out of her bounds. She's free to go. But bitchgirl here isn't..." Zharia said as she grinned at Breanna. "My family's gonna know that you got me! They're gonna know after what you did last time! You sick, twisted bitch! Get a real fucking life!" Breanna mouthing off at the leader was the worst thing she could ever do in a situation like this. "You'll regret that. And no, the cops have no chance busting us. I have many more recruits, many more gassy, fat-ass bitches who will help me torture you. It will be fun!" Zharia said with an evil grin. Breanna's eyes widened with fright. "Take her to my closet and gag her with a lot of tape, she can't be making a loud racket in there."

Authors/StinkFartFetish/Annihilation Part 3.txt

StinkFartFetish

Annihilation

Zharia was a black girl with a huge booty, it was very big and fat. Lots of guys admired her huge ass, but a lot of girls saw her as a hoe for exposing its great size in tight jeans or yoga pants. Zharia saw all of them as haters; she didn't let them get to her. She knew that most of the girls wished they had a little bit of the fat on her ass. Breanna was one of those white girls that loved to slam on Zharia and slander her with all these ridiculous insults. Zharia knew Breanna was lucky she didn't get her ass beat, or Zharia would get in trouble. But Zharia was tired of Breanna running her mouth; she just wished she could get what was coming to her. Zharia was chilling with her friends at lunch, and when she walked away from them and back to the lunchroom, she walked past Breanna and her clique. "Zharia, you need a sign on your ass that says 'Wide STD Load', because you've probably got it!" Her and her friends laughed as Zharia flipped her off as she kept walking. Breanna was much skinnier and a little taller than Zharia, and only had a little bit of ass. She had brownish hair and smiled with her teeth almost all the time. Every time Zharia saw Breanna, she just wanted to smash her face in. But Zharia thought of an even better way to humiliate Breanna. Straight up Gas Torture would do it, and she would post it all on YouTube and Facebook for people at school and millions could see. All she had to do was convince Breanna to come to her house, but she could only do that through one of Breanna's friends. Zharia met up with Mary, one of Breanna's friends. "So does Breanna know your address?" Zharia asked her. "No, why?" "Because I want you to give her my address to go to, I can't really explain but I'll give you $60 to keep it secret, alright?" "You've got a deal," Mary said. That next Friday, Breanna was "invited" to Mary's house. She was pretty excited to chill with Mary for the first time and could not wait. She rang the doorbell, and Zharia got ready before she opened the door. She had just finished a few bowls of chili and felt really gassy, as she held her stomach a little. She opened the door and saw the surprised look on Breanna's face. "Is this Mary's house?" Breanna asked. "No, bitch!" Zharia grabbed Breanna and pulled her into the house, and slammed Breanna on the couch and pinned her down. "What the fuck are you doing???" Breanna tried to get Zharia off, but Zharia was too big and she taped Breanna's mouth sealed, then wrapped the tape around her wrists. She had Breanna in a laid out position on the couch so she sat on Breanna's face and surprised her with a big fart. *FROOOMFFFFT!* Breanna squirmed under Zharia's ass as the stench overflowed her nostrils and smelled horrible. Breanna just squirmed and thrashed as her face was too close to Zharia's big jeans ass, too close for comfort. Zharia held Breanna's head in her ass and *PHRAMMMMPHHHOOT* the fart was reeking all over the room and throughout Breanna's nostrils. Zharia then took her jeans off, which made Breanna scream through the tape and squirm a bit more as Zharia took those panties off and exposed her fat black ass right in Breanna's face, then shoved Breanna's nose in her ass, Breanna's whole face being swallowed by Zharia's big ass. Breanna was forced to take in the rancid smells of Zharia's ass, but soon it got worse. *BRAMMMFFFFFFT!!!!!* A powerful fart of gas shot up Breanna's nostrils and she had no choice but to inhale every last bit of it straight from Zharia's ass. Zharia laughed as she let the fart sink in; she heard the whimpers of Breanna back there and gassed her more gas up the nose: *PRAMMPPPHHHHHFFFFTT!!!* Breanna fought as hard as she could to get out of this big stinky ass as her nostrils flared in attempt to get at least a bit of fresh air, but instead she got *RAMPHHFFMMFFFT!* Right into her flared nostrils as she sucked the air in. Zharia rubbed her hole all over Breanna's nose; it felt so good. It made her blast 5 more farts in a row that were deadly and certainly more worse than the previous ones right up the nostrils of Breanna. *SHRRAAMPHHHTOOOT!* *FRROOOMFFFFT!!!!* *BRAMPHHHOIITTTRAPHHFF!!* *BRAMPHHHHHTTPHHHHT!!* *PRRRRRRPHHHHRATTTTT!* Breanna couldn't take her big black smelly ass as her nostrils burned from all those horrible farts and she became unconscious, but Zharia would wait patiently for her to wake up to give her much more nasty gas.

Authors/StinkFartFetish/Annihilation.txt

Virtual Scott

Prospects

Zoe couldn't wait to get back to school. The annual holiday visit to her grandparents had turned into a fiasco, what with forgetting the charger cable for her phone and then a flight cancellation that meant they'd only made it home Sunday afternoon. It had been enjoyable even so, but using Grandpa's PC for a few emails made her feel totally cut off from her friends. Luckily, it had been warm there, and she'd jogged a lot, trying to ignore the cravings of her body and stay ahead of the holiday calories. The new quarter started with another mandatory morning assembly. Principal Edwards put in an initial appearance but left the bulk of the speaking to others. Zoe, Claudia, and Paige sat together in the bleachers, tuning out most of the assembly while they shared funny holiday stories and discussed the spring fashions appearing in the stores. "Just one last announcement, on the dress code," Jana warned the audience. The words "dress code" caught Zoe's attention, and she shushed her friends. Jana cleared her throat and spoke slowly into the microphone, apparently reciting carefully from memory: "TRAINCO recognizes physical comfort plays a part in academic achievement. Therefore, while the student dress code will continue to be rigorously enforced in public venues, student attire on campus during normal school hours may consist of a subset of the normal uniform or designated optional alternatives." "What?" Zoe asked, not sure she'd heard correctly. For a change, a substantial fraction of the audience joined Joanne and the cheer squad in applauding and shouting. "No more fucking bra!" crowed Claudia, who performed her usual gyrations and launched the offending garment into the crowd. Dozens of ties and several other garments, including leggings and at least one pair of underwear, sailed into the air as other students got into the act. The weather might have been cold outside, but Zoe was looking forward to swim class again and spending that hour in the heated water of the indoor pool. She stood in the girls' locker room with Paige, feeling goosebumps on her arms as she started pulling on her suit. Zoe did a double-take when she saw Paige's chest. The nipple clamps had been replaced with piercings, still joined by a fine chain. It looked pretty permanent. "Are those for real?" "Yeah," confirmed Paige in her usual matter-of-fact tone. "I think it makes a statement." "Umm, yes," Zoe temporized. She wasn't sure she was ready to hear the elaborately bizarre reasoning that doubtless lay behind the comment. "Your parents let you do this?" "Oh no," laughed Paige, "are you kidding? The school nurse did it! Can you believe it?" "Frankly, no," which was an understatement. "Our school nurse? Here? At Hyde?" Paige nodded. "Yup. She did such good work on my face, I decided to give this a try. I heard about it from the spazz." That meant Joanne, Zoe knew. "The cool thing is, they healed so fast. Can you believe I only got these Friday?" Paige pulled on the chain to demonstrate, stretching the nipples away from her breasts. It made Zoe queasy to look, but the piercings did look fully-healed. They certainly didn't seem to cause Paige any pain. The school nurse, during the holiday break? Well, that was something to look into, she thought. About 20 minutes -- and maybe one too many laps of the pool -- later, Zoe hugged the pool wall and wondered how it was possible to get out of condition so quickly. The Christmas break had only been two weeks long, but her lungs insisted it had been two years. The blonde took a moment to catch her breath as somebody sprinted back to the equipment room to retrieve a forgotten bag of balls for water polo. Hopefully, they wouldn't rush. The boys milled about nearby, also waiting to find out which sides of the pool to use. Her eyes automatically sought out Dean, and Zoe gazed at him while trying not to be too obvious about it. He really filled out his suit well, better than she remembered. It was enough to make her mouth dry. One of the boys in Zoe's line of sight turned away from his friends, casually hauled out his penis, and began peeing into the pool. Zoe gasped in surprise. Chlorinated or not, that was gross! Paige contented herself with a dismissive, "whatever," but several other members of the class giggled and pointed; a few of the closest pulled themselves out of the water. That, of course, attracted the attention of more of the boys. They strutted closer to the girls, providing a better view, and a few more arcs of warm urine began streaming into the water. Zoe looked around to see what the coaches were doing, and then turned back at the sound of Crystal's startled shriek. Tony was peeing on her and her friends! Incredibly, the girls started rubbing his piss into their skin and wet swimsuits, and Crystal dropped to her knees. Dean's face on the far side of the group showed the same "O" of surprise Zoe felt. Perhaps a third of the boys had relieved themselves on the mostly willing girls by the time Tony finished draining his bladder into Crystal's opened mouth. "What the fuck?!..." was the only thing the normally literate Zoe could think to say. Paige was surprisingly nonchalant about it. "Oh, I think it grows on you," she observed. The coaches did nothing. "Come on you idiots, let's get back to work!" yelled Mr. Zegmet, finally herding the boys off to the far end of the pool. Zoe would have said Ms. Gold hadn't noticed a thing, except she made Crystal sluice off the pools of urine remaining where the girls had been. Apparently, a lot more than the dress code had changed during the holiday break. Zoe began to think she had returned to a different world. Over lunch, she compared notes with Dean on her findings from the morning. He too found it unbelievable that the girls would subject themselves to that sort of treatment, although he admitted it looked like fun. That comment rubbed Zoe the wrong way. The more unsettling incident happened on the way out. They'd just dumped their trays in the return and were walking towards the cafeteria exit when Dean stopped abruptly. He fished out his cock and began pissing into the potted palm near the doorway. Zoe grabbed his arm, aghast. Dean looked at her and smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry; couldn't wait. Did you want it?" The blonde shook her head frantically and tried to pretend none of it was happening. The scariest part was that the more Zoe thought about it, the less certain she was that Dean had been joking. She thought about raising the subject with Paige when they met to examine the dress code changes on the fabrication system, but her friend was in a strange mood, absently running her fingers along the nipple chain while they waited for their new two-piece regulation swimsuits to be fabricated. On the bus ride home, she tried to explain her misgivings to Claudia. "It's just not normal," Zoe repeated for perhaps the fifth time, when she heard spattering on the floor of the bus and felt warm liquid ricocheting onto her leg. "Don't mind me," Claudia explained, "I'm just taking advantage of my last opportunity to unload before I have to be a fucking 'good girl' again. Now, you were saying?" Zoe found she didn't have anything more to say. When she tried on her new bikini after dinner, Zoe was unsurprised that it fit her like a dream and made her look like one, too. It was surprisingly skimpy for school wear, and she realized she'd have to trim her bikini line. Working in the bathroom, she almost removed it all, but decided to leave a small patch -- Zoe wanted to distinguish herself from Mariah, and was proud her pubes were the same light blonde as her head. Looking at herself again in the mirror afterwards, Zoe imagined showing herself to Dean the next day, nearly as naked as her digitized image. She couldn't resist retrieving her dildo and caressing it against her breasts and mound, then angling it against her crotch until it pushed the fabric aside and slid into her dripping snatch. She thrust it into herself repeatedly, staring at her reflection, until she orgasmed. That night, she dreamed she held Paige's nipple chain while Tony and Dean both peed on the brunette. Mariah appeared and pressed herself against Zoe's thigh, then peed on her. Zoe awoke and realized she'd wet her bed for the first time since she was a little girl. Embarrassed, she silently stripped the bed and carried the damp linens to the laundry room. She stood before the washer and hesitated. Zoe couldn't resist burying her face in the sheets and then tasting them. God, she was sick! She dumped everything in the washer and was halfway back to her bedroom before she realized she was still wearing her soaked tap pants. The following day was almost normal, as if to make up for the aberrations of the previous one. All of the riders on the bus, Claudia included, behaved themselves. Paige left her bra on, and Zoe could pretend she couldn't see the chain and rings beneath it. Perhaps a quarter of the girls, herself and Paige included, were already wearing bikinis.If anybody peed in the pool, they did it underwater where Zoe didn't see it. Dean was a perfect gentleman at lunch and apologized again for upsetting her the previous day. Well, she did see Kevin and Jana by the lockers between classes. Zoe discreetly observed them as he drained his water bottle in one nearly continuous action, before commenting, "Geez, this just runs through you!" He unzipped his pants and withdrew his penis; Jana, already squatting, took it in her mouth and began sucking. If Zoe ignored how much the other girl was swallowing, it looked just like she was giving him a blowjob, and that wasn't so unusual. Zoe pondered that thought as she drank from her bottle, unconsciously matching Jana's rhythm. Zoe was dragging by last hour. Planning picture placement just couldn't engage her enthusiasm the same way the now-forbidden journalistic research had. Joanne's "like"-infested layout meeting seemed to take forever, and Zoe was squirming with discomfort. Finally, she muttered an apology and bolted for the bathroom. Zoe pulled up short in front of the restrooms, which bore a "Closed For Cleaning" sign. "Cleaning?" she growled. "It's probably the only place in the whole damn school that people *don't* use anymore!" A hand on her shoulder startled her, and Zoe jumped with surprise as she involuntarily released a burst of urine. She whirled around to find Hannah Petersen facing her. "I didn't mean to surprise you, Zoe," the teacher apologized. "I just thought perhaps I could help..." She glanced at the wet tile between Zoe's shoes. The hell with it, Zoe decided. Apparently the universe was trying to tell her something. Spreading her legs a little more, she let go and felt her warm urine soak her panties and begin to run onto the floor. Hannah crouched in front of the growing puddle. Zoe closed her eyes as her skirt was pushed upwards and the teacher's breath warmed the wetness between her legs. She could feel Hannah's lips and tongue work the outside of her panties, sucking the moisture from them. The licking stopped, and Zoe opened her eyes. Mariah was giving her a sultry smile at point-blank range. "Can I play, too?" she cooed. She raised her skirt, revealing her bald pussy, now pierced multiple times and marked with several welts. The redhead unloaded on the teacher, her rushing torrent instantly soaking Hannah's blouse. Hannah began working herself violently, leaving Zoe trapped between her and the wall. The blonde closed her eyes again as Mariah leaned in for a kiss. "There's so much I want to show you," Mariah whispered as they came up for air. Hannah returned to Zoe's legs, licking higher and higher. "Touch me the way you want to be touched." Zoe closed her eyes again as Mariah positioned her not-unwilling hand against a breast, before pulling open Zoe's blouse and pushing up her bra so she could return the favor. Hannah was sucking at Zoe's panties. Zoe felt Mariah's nipple stiffen against the palm of her hand. She squeezed gently and then shifted her hand to catch the erect nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Mariah obligingly mirrored the movement, and started kissing her again. The teacher pushed Zoe's underwear aside and began licking her clitoris with short strokes of the tongue. Zoe flinched under the unexpected stimulus and squeezed Mariah's nipple tightly. Mariah squeezed back the same way, doubling the blonde's pleasure. They moaned into each other's parted mouths, tasting the other's saliva. Mariah now took the lead, rolling Zoe's nipple roughly between her fingers. Zoe repeated it. She screamed in pain when the other girl squeezed her nipple, hard, against the edge of a thumbnail, and pinched back, hoping Mariah would release her. The pressure relented, but only momentarily. As if they'd practiced it, Hannah and Mariah synchronized their assault on Zoe's senses. Hannah sucked hard on her clitoris, generating a wave of sensation so intense it was almost painful, and at the same time Mariah pinched her nipple cruelly, sending waves of pain radiating through her breast. Then the pressure relented as Mariah massaged her nipple and Hannah blew gently on Zoe's soaking pussy. A moment later, the cycle repeated. All of the sensations met and tangled together in the pit of Zoe's stomach, forming a confusing blend of pleasure and pain. She didn't realize she herself was forcing the pace faster, thrusting her groin at Hannah's face and abusing Mariah's nipple just a fraction of a second before she felt the pain in hers. A fingertip probed at the entrance to her anus. Zoe shuddered into a mind-bending climax and would have fallen down if she hadn't been propped against the wall. She opened her eyes again after catching her breath, and saw Mariah looking back at her with the same post-orgasmic glow. She looked down at her breast, expecting to find it savaged, but her nipple looked fine -- if more than a bit engorged and very sensitive. Had she really done this? Zoe watched Hannah stand and brush a strand of wet hair out of her face. "You're a wonderful student, Zoe," the teacher complimented her. "I think class is about over for the day." She winked and walked back in the direction of the classroom. "My God, you're so hot," Mariah added, while fastening her blouse. "I'd love to do you again -- soon?" Zoe shook her head, making a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Not right away." She struggled with her bra. "I enjoyed it, a lot, I guess. You know it and I'd be a fool to deny it. But -- this isn't what I thought I'd be learning in school. It doesn't seem right; all this" -- her gesture took in the entire school -- "isn't normal. Don't you see that? Don't you care?" Mariah shook her head regretfully. "Maybe it isn't normal. But I enjoy it, and that's good enough for me. It could be good enough for you, too. You can't beat them, Zoe." Chin high, Zoe marched away. She didn't care two buttons were missing from her blouse. The challenge implicit in Mariah's last sentence energized her. She'd stood by with the silent majority and let the wrong thing happen to Amber. If this "them" thought she was going to do the wrong thing again, they were going to learn differently.It was well before classes started, but the lights were on inside Hyde's nursing center. Paul Edwards sat on the examination table, naked from the waist down, and carried on a conversation on his cell phone. "Wait one, Shefali," he told the woman with him. "I want to be absolutely clear," Paul spoke into the phone, "we need the website renewed and we'll want editing services, but the money has to come out of the 137 account -- no, the 137 account, not the new one -- clear?" He gestured for her to continue and returned his attention to the call. "Okay, tell me about it." Shefali wore the usual faculty ID, but wore a white lab coat over her blouse and short skirt. Seated on a stool, she arranged a set of pointed studs on the nearby tray. She used a disposable wipe to spread some sort of blue gel around the upper half of Paul's penis, then discarded it and pulled on a pair of gloves. The nurse picked up the first stud, socketed it into a small tool, and studied the cock carefully. She pressed the head of the tool against the skin just below the existing studs and triggered it. Paul grunted and his penis surged; the new stud was in place. Her tongue delicately extended, Shefali licked away the clear liquid that had appeared at the tip of the penis and proceeded to load another stud in the tool. She continued working methodically, creating a second row of studs, while Paul mostly listened to the phone. "Okay, good," he approved finally, "have that ready by the end of the week and we're all set." He ended the call just before the nurse implanted the last stud. She wiped away the remaining gel with another cloth and discarded both it and the gloves. Paul was quivering and rock hard. "How does it feel, Mr. Edwards?" she asked in her beautiful British accent. "It hurts so good," he admitted, running a finger along the points of the new studs. "Let's give it a test drive, shall we?" The pair reversed positions and Shefali lay back on the exam table, revealing both a lack of underwear and her readiness. Paul stepped forward but inserted himself into her ass instead of her flowering cunt. She screamed as he pressed forward and felt each row of studs catch before slipping deeper into her. He established a steady rhythm, sawing the metal teeth in and out of her anus. Shefali fingered herself violently, screaming out repeatedly at the mixed pain and pleasure. Saturday dawned grey and cold, but Zoe was already awake, feeling tense and restless. She'd wet her bed again during the night, but was becoming accustomed to damp sheets. The blonde fingered herself, peeing again, and enjoyed the feeling of warmth pooling under her body. After a mild climax, she rose and collected her damp bedding, using a dry part of the top sheet to wipe down the plastic sheet liner. Everything went into the washer and Zoe walked back upstairs, naked, to remake her bed and dress before her parents awoke. A light breakfast, several mugs of decaf tea, and every word of the paper later, Zoe still felt like she would go stir-crazy. She looked hopefully out the side window, but Claudia's car was gone, and Paige's parents were big on "family time" during the weekend. Zoe thought about Dean, but the way those thoughts made her wet suggested it would be a bad idea to be alone with him. Perhaps she could try to figure out Mariah? Finally, she asked her father if she could borrow his car for a shopping trip. The conversation was genial, but made the state driving laws seem lenient; her parents made it clear driving was a privilege. As expected, Zoe got the keys -- after reviewing her standing promises to refuel the car, not drive with friends, be back before dark, keep her phone off in the car, and check in at each stop. It made no sense, but Zoe's mood drove her to set aside the casual clothing she might normally have worn. Instead, she unearthed some of the fruits of her friends' labors. Changing first into a low-rise thong, Zoe pulled on a pair of faded jeans embellished with "CZP" on the hip pockets. They rode low on her hips, didn't clear the floor unless she wore heels, and fit like a glove. Distressed fabric remained out of reach, but Claudia had located a supply of denim and Paige had cracked the problem of doing embroidery (at the cost of a substantial increase in production time). Disdaining a bra, Zoe donned a thin camisole that clung to her body as if she were wet and ended above her navel; it was blatantly unsuitable for winter but would serve perfectly as a shell under her hoodie. The hoodie was a masterwork. Of course, it was soft and sleekly form-fitting, but the entire back was embroidered with a huge vivid multicolor hurricane logo and "Lawrence Hyde Charter High School;" "Zoe" was embroidered in elegant cursive letters on the breast. Paige was lobbying to have it added to the dress code, and surprisingly the request had not been rejected out of hand. After a quick check of her purse, Zoe pulled on her winter coat and zipped it up -- but not before slipping a pair of heels inside it. Wearing flip-flops and with the coat concealing a multitude of sinful curves, the blonde reached the safety of the car without parental interference. She thought for a minute about what to do before hitting the garage door remote and starting the engine. Half an hour later, she was pulling into the parking lot at the Leopard's Lair. Predictably, on a Saturday morning, it was empty. Zoe put on her heels and, leaving the heavy coat in the car, hurried to the entrance and into the warmth of the store. "Hi, Andy, remember me?" she asked when he looked up from the football commentary he was watching on the small TV. Without waiting for him to answer, she unzipped her hoodie and raised the cami, baring her breasts to him. Her nipples were hard, but it *was* cold outside. He replied, "how could I forget?" clearly enjoying the view. "Go on ahead. Let me know if I can help you with anything, Paige, is it?" "Zoe," she replied shortly, smoothing down her top but not bothering to re-zip the hoodie. She strode down the aisle to the DVD section, uncaring that Andy's attention was fixated on her slender figure. "Can I help you, Zoe?" he asked several minutes later, after watching her slowly scan all of the DVD racks. She started, surprised to find she hadn't noticed his approach, and looked up in frustration. "I'm looking for a DVD; I think it's called 'The Cock Also Rises.' Can you help me find it?" Andy looked at her, and Zoe noticed he was watching her nipples poking against the camisole. "Are you looking for that specific title, or just something with lots of cock in it?" "That title," Zoe answered, blushing faintly as she started to think about how he might be interpreting this. "I'm sure it was here in the new releases section." "Well, let me think a minute." He scanned the shelves briefly, unconsciously adjusting himself in his pants. "Let me go look in the inventory system." Andy strolled back to the front counter; after a last scan of the shelves, Zoe followed him. She was expecting a computer, but Andy pulled out a three-ring binder from beneath the counter and started flipping through marked-up packing lists. The blonde schooled herself to patience, waiting silently as he worked. Eventually, he stopped, drawing his finger across a line item, and looked up. "Yup, we had a couple of those, but we're sold out now. Oh yeah, SoWet Productions, those are some kinky bastards!" "What do you mean?" Zoe asked. She tried reading upside down, but the documents looked like they'd been printed on a dot matrix printer and were smudged and covered with pencil marks. "SoWet Productions -- that's the company that made that video," explained Andy. "They're a new outfit, I guess, but they're getting real popular. They seem to have a lot of hot young talent and they're pretty graphic. Not real big on plot, if you catch my drift." "Do you have any of their other videos?" wondered Zoe. "Probably," Andy allowed. "C'mon, it'll be faster to just check the shelves than look through this crap." The two walked back down to the video section. He was as good as his word, taking only a minute to scan the cases before pulling one out and handing it to Zoe. "Two-Fisted Pleasure Addict," she read. The cover picture on this case was taken from the point of view of a woman looking down, past her bare breasts and erect nipples. Below them, each hand held a large, glistening dildo. Could those be Mariah's tits? Was the model in the picture even in the video? That was something she hadn't considered previously. "Is there any way I can watch this?" asked Zoe. Andy snorted. "Sure -- buy it." When he saw her expression, he laughed. "Come on, Zoe, get real! This isn't a library; do Best Buy or the Video Corral let you look at movies before you buy them?" Reluctantly, she found herself carrying it slowly back to the register. "Can I return it if I don't like it?" Andy pointed silently at the "ALL SALES ARE FINAL" sign. Zoe couldn't believe she was seriously considering buying pornography that her parents probably would kill her for if they found it -- and for a price she wouldn't pay even for real movies. She looked at the case again, searching for any additional hints about the content, but found nothing. "Can I at least watch it here after I buy it?" she sighed, looking hopefully at the small television behind the counter. "That, we can arrange," Andy promised as he rang up the sale and accepted her cash. While Zoe tucked the receipt into her purse, he slit open the packaging with a cutter and extracted the disc. She could hear a whirr as he inserted it into a player beneath the counter, and she looked at the TV, expecting to see the picture change, but nothing happened. "I queued it up in booth one," explained Andy, pointing toward the back of the store."Seeing as it's your DVD, we'll just overlook the usual viewing charge." Zoe walked back in the direction he'd indicated. She'd thought the curtained doorways were additional changing rooms, but that wasn't the case. Pushing past the curtain under the "1," the blonde found herself in a small, dimly lit cubby that smelled faintly of stale sweat and semen. It was big enough for a small armchair, a wastebasket, and a stand beside the chair with several rolls of toilet paper. The television, inset in the wall, already displayed a title screen that jerked into motion as she took in her surroundings. "Boys are such wimps," Mariah pouted as she walked into frame, clad in a skimpy bikini. "I was just getting started, and they're all pooped out!" She untied the bottoms, revealing a cunt that was oozing spunk and a small trimmed pubic patch matted with dried semen. That was enough for Zoe to infer it must have been filmed the previous year. Having confirmed her suspicions, Zoe pushed the curtain aside and exited the cubby. She pulled up short at the sight of an older man standing at the counter with his back to her. "Sure, Mr. Wilkes, I can get those sales numbers for you right now!" Andy's voice was loud enough for Zoe to understand him easily from the other end of the showroom. "I've just got one customer in the booths, and he'll be busy for a while." The man made some inaudible reply. "No, some old guy by himself," Andy answered. "Maybe his girlfriend just left her coat in the car; I don't know. I know you don't want anything illegal going on here." He plopped some papers on the counter, distracting the man, and jerked his head meaningfully towards the cubby. Zoe darted back inside, holding the curtain to minimize its movement. She didn't need Andy's hints to know she couldn't afford to be found; hopefully his explanation would hold up and she could hide until the man left. Unfortunately, that left her with no distractions except the TV screen. Mariah was naked now, caressing herself and plucking both nipples until they stiffened. Unwillingly, Zoe felt her own breasts tighten in response. She located a volume control and dialed it down, making it easier to hear if anybody should approach, and reducing Mariah's moans to a low murmur. In near silence, the redhead produced a dildo and began rubbing it against her pubis, coating it until it glistened, and then inserted it into herself. She started slowly, but began working the instrument in and out more vigorously, her lips parted. A few minutes later, Mariah's body writhed in obvious ecstasy. Zoe was on edge, pacing a few steps back and forth across the cramped room, until she realized her heels clicked distinctively with every step and she was pressing her thighs together in a vain attempt to stimulate herself. The downside of tailored jeans, she decided, was that there were no folds of excess material to form ridges to rub against, and no gaps that would admit a hand. The blonde peeked through the curtain, but the unwanted visitor was still at the counter. She returned her attention to the video, which had changed scenes. It was outdoors now, at the Springfield farmers market, and the image jumped a bit as if it had been captured with a small handheld camera. Mariah, wearing a short dress and astronomically high heels, was inspecting produce. Looking about, she stealthily selected a cucumber and quickly slid it up under the front of her dress; when her hand emerged a second later, it was empty. A second, smaller, cucumber disappeared the same way behind her. Mariah smiled sweetly and innocently at a woman who looked like she couldn't believe what she thought she'd seen, and strolled off with an extra roll to her hips. Zoe was so not going to diddle herself in this dive. That didn't mean she couldn't rub her stiff nipples as she watched the camera follow Mariah through the market to the food vendor area and purchase a drink. The redhead found a spot on a picnic bench and the camera -- it had to be hidden -- jostled before coming to rest on the bench on the other side of the table, facing Mariah. She spread her legs and Zoe could see the end of the cucumber pressing against Mariah's underwear. Fingers intruded into the picture, pulling the panties aside, and Mariah began working the length of the vegetable in and out of herself. There was a pause, and she scooted forward on the bench, revealing the end of the second cucumber. Using both hands now, the girl pistoned both holes until her body started shaking. After a final thrust, the hands disappeared and both cucumbers started slowly emerging, covered in juice, until they dropped away like large, rigid turds. Zoe was dripping in her jeans. The blonde took another peek to confirm her exit remained blocked, and returned her attention to the television. Mariah was lying in bed, masturbating herself with a large artificial cock while she sucked on its twin. The image was just a little too close to home for Zoe, who finally surrendered to her peaking desire. With a glance at the closed curtains, the blonde unfastened her jeans and pulled them down to her knees. Perching on one arm of the chair, which she judged to be cleaner than the seat, Zoe stroked her drenched thong before tugging it aside and starting to tend to her needy sex. Zoe jumped as Mariah spit out the one dildo and yanked a sheet over herself. A woman entered the picture, visible only from behind. She shook a pair of crusted panties in Mariah's face; obviously it was intended to be Mariah's mother, but it wasn't really Councilwoman Haskell... was it? There was a pause, allowing a few inaudible words of conversation, before the woman dropped the panties and yanked back the sheet, revealing Mariah's arousal and the two dildos. She slapped Mariah across the face -- it looked pretty realistic -- and pulled the dildo out of the teen's sopping cunt. They rearranged themselves so the woman, back still to the camera, sat on the end of the bed and Mariah lay across her lap, her rear exposed to Zoe's riveted gaze. The woman started spanking Mariah, quickly reddening the teen's buns. She stopped to retrieve one of the dildos and rammed it abruptly into the redhead's pussy, then resumed spanking at the same time she worked the dildo in and out of her daughter. Zoe's fingers thrust into her creaming pussy in time with the dildo. There was another pause to insert the second dildo into Mariah's ass, which accepted it easily, and the spanking resumed. Now the rhythm was spank, spank, spank, spank, followed by a push to reseat the dildo. Zoe was strumming her clit, gasping a breath at each pause, and riding the crest of her arousal progressively higher each time. Just before she thought she would explode, the woman rolled Mariah off her lap and pulled her daughter's head under her skirt. The point of view changed so it was again behind Mariah, and now facing her mother, but aimed low enough that the redhead nearly filled the screen and the woman's identity remained unknown. Zoe could see Mariah licking frantically at her mother's pussy while supporting herself with one hand and working the dildo in her cunt with the other; the woman was leaning forward so she could pump the second dildo in and out of Mariah's ass. When the redhead finally trembled and collapsed in orgasm, Zoe climaxed too. A ribbon of sperm jetted onto the floor near her foot, and Zoe belatedly realized Andy was standing in the entryway watching her and jerking off. "Jesus, you are one white-hot chick," he gasped, as she shrieked and tried to cover herself. The fit of her jeans worked against her, and she could hear him grunting again as she faced away from the door and wiggled her pants up her legs. "Couldn't you have knocked or something?" Zoe asked him, doing up her fly and smoothing down her camisole. "Hey, I asked and you didn't answer. I thought maybe you'd snuck out, so I just poked my head in," Andy explained. He spooled off some toilet paper and used it to wipe himself while Zoe watched. "You were just locked on that screen. Hey, you want some of this?" He waved his cock at her. "No thanks," Zoe shook her head. Andy shrugged and tossed the paper wad in the trash, and tucked himself back into his pants. He held the curtain aside, inviting her to exit, and Zoe stepped carefully around the spunk on the floor and back into the showroom. Andy looked sideways at her as they walked back down the length of the store. "I guess you found what you were looking for on that video, eh?" "Yeah," Zoe admitted, zipping up her hoodie, "I guess I did." The question was, what did she do now? She waited absent-mindedly, worrying at the question, while Andy ejected the disc, replaced it in the case, and put it in a bag. Her eyebrows rose when he handed her the bag and the cash she'd paid him earlier. "Keep it," she decided, pushing the money back across the counter. "I got what I wanted." Outside, she pulled on her coat and got the car started, then drove across the street to the gas station; if she tanked up now, Zoe figured she'd be good for the rest of the day. She used the time waiting at the pump to decide how she should proceed. After finishing, she pulled over to the edge of the lot and let the car idle while she turned on her cell phone. The day was getting off to a rocky start, Zoe reflected; she was about to break another resolution. She scrolled down the contact list to the number she'd found written in her boyshorts in November, and hit the "Talk" button. "Hello?" Mariah's voice sounded after the third ring. "Is this Zoe?" "Hi, Mariah," Zoe said, and took a deep mental breath. "Can I meet you somewhere today? I need to talk to you." "I'm at Saks right now," Mariah responded. That meant Deer Meadow Hills, of course. "I could meet you later, at home, if you want."A private meeting with Mariah did not seem like a good idea at all; the public surroundings of the mall seemed worth the drive. Besides, she could use a good indoor walk to work off some of the tension she was feeling. "I'll meet you there." Zoe looked at the clock on the dash. "How about noon, at the food court?" "That's dull," Mariah replied. "How about JJ's instead?" That was the most casual of the restaurants at the mall, to the extent that anything at Deer Meadow Hills would condescend to be called "casual." It would be expensive, for lunch, but far better than dinner. "Yeah, okay," Zoe accepted. "I'll see you in a bit." "I'm looking forward to it," purred Mariah before disconnecting. Zoe hit the speed dial button for home and was a bit surprised to hear the answering machine pick up. In some ways, it made life easier. "Hi, it's me! I'm just leaving TJ Maxx and going to Deer Meadow -- I'll call when I get there. Love you, bye!" The drive passed uneventfully, and Zoe was pulling into a spot in the covered parking deck about 15 minutes before noon. She decided, again, to leave her coat in the car and tossed it in the passenger's seat, on top of the bag with the DVD. The car was close enough to the entrance that a brisk walk got her indoors before the cold seeped through her hoodie or jeans. Unzipping the hoodie a few inches so it was less restrictive, Zoe continued through the mall toward the restaurant at a relatively rapid pace. She had just turned the last corner before JJ's when a voice behind her called, "Zoe! Zoe Ryan?" Zoe stopped and turned, half expecting to see Mariah, although the voice wasn't right. It took a moment for her brain to change gears and recognize people she hadn't seen for nearly a year. Sheila Johnson and Kimberly Franklin fronted a group of familiar faces Zoe generally would have been happier to avoid seeing again; Zoe was pretty sure Sheila had been responsible for broadcasting Amber's cellphone picture, and totally positive that she and Kimmie were total bitches. No more willing to turn her back on them than she would a pack of jackals, Zoe walked slowly towards the group of girls and prepared to brazen out the encounter. "Sheila, Kimmie," Zoe greeted them, making no particular attempt to disguise her lack of enthusiasm, "how's tricks? I see you're hanging with a new crowd, Shea." The reciprocal pleasantries lasted a minute longer before the tone of the conversation turned chilly. "We've missed you, Zoe," Sheila complained with mock sincerity. "It's too bad you had to run away after Amber killed herself. She really wasn't worth the effort." Zoe gritted her teeth and maintained a pleasant expression. "I'd miss Amber just as much no matter where I am; and I didn't run away; we moved." "Yes," Kim interjected derisively, "and now you go to fancy-dancy Hyde High, with all the special charter students." Her tone was cutting, and the audience laughed unkindly. "Do you enjoy dressing up in your little schoolgirl uniforms with the other fashion victims?" That intended blow did not land squarely, but Kimberly never had been one for thinking before opening her mouth. "I get by well enough," Zoe answered dryly, pirouetting to demonstrate her point. Maybe she hadn't been a fashion hound before, but the outfit she wore now looked far more expensive than it was, and compared favorably with the typical Hollister and Abercrombie garb adorning the others. More cuttingly, Zoe had toned up -- and looked it -- whereas more than one of the others sported a bit of a muffin top. "I bet," snarled Sheila, who recognized faster than Kimmie they'd lost that point. "Everybody's heard about the Hyde 'Whore-icanes' and their private little brothel! You're probably a bigger slut than Amber ever was; I bet you sent out her picture because you were jealous she had a boyfriend. Admit it, Zoe -- you can't wear normal jeans because we'd see the calluses on your knees from blowing every boy with a dick between his legs!" The key accusation, baldly blaming Zoe for what Sheila almost certainly had done herself, took the blonde's breath away. For the rest, she knew it was spite and envy talking, but there were so many unintentional half-truths and near misses in the stinging attack that Zoe hesitated, unsure how to respond. Kimmie, sensing something had scored, tried to one-up her friend. "You fucking slut, you probably teach sex-ed on your back! I'm glad you left Parker, or every boy there would have a social disease!" Seething, Zoe considered abandoning words entirely and planting her fist in her tormentors' faces. She knew it would be smarter to turn and just walk away, but ceding the argument to that lying, murdering bitch was beyond her. The blonde jumped as an arm threaded itself around her. "Hi, Zoe. Who are your friends?" Mariah asked, wearing her most becomingly innocent expression. Glad for the support, even from the unlikeliest of reinforcements, Zoe forced herself to use a pleasant voice. "This is Sheila, and Kimmie, and Beth, and Shea, and..." "Allison," filled in the unfamiliar face in back. "They all go to Parker, my old school," Zoe summarized. "This is Mariah; she goes to Hyde, too." "I'm so pleased to meet all of you," Mariah smiled sweetly. "I've been getting to know Zoe, and now I know why she never talks about her old school." Zoe watched their faces change as the discrepancy between the message and the delivery sank in. It was refreshing to not be the one on the receiving end, for a change. The redhead continued, "Kimmie, it doesn't say much for your self-esteem to assume that all the boys at Parker -- including your boyfriend, *if* you have one -- would want to fuck Zoe instead of you. Although if I were a boy, I'd pick her over any of you, too!" "You bitch!" Kim exclaimed in disbelief, and Sheila's eyes narrowed. "You two are fucking dykes!" the ringleader hissed, looking at Mariah's arm draped loosely around Zoe's waist. "Zoe Ryan is a fucking carpet muncher!" Maliciously, she added, "is that what happened with Amber? Did you hit on her and get rejected?" "Liar!" Zoe exploded, struggling against Mariah's suddenly tight grip. "You get a kick out of pissing all over people, don't you?" Mariah asked Sheila, moving to interpose herself in front of the sobbing Zoe. "I call them like I see them," replied Sheila with relish. "What I see is a pair of lesbo sluts." It was hard for her to take Mariah seriously; the beautiful redhead didn't look her age, was barely Sheila's height even in her high-heeled boots, and didn't look very menacing in her flouncy skirt, sweater, scarf, and shopping bags. Sheila took a few steps forward, getting in Mariah's face, and was surprised the other girl wasn't intimidated into backing up. "What I see," Mariah said, further closing the distance between them until they nearly touched, "is a bully who probably can't take what she dishes out." She embraced Sheila and kissed her. Sheila turned her head aside, breaking the kiss, and began struggling in earnest when she felt the wetness on her legs. "You twisted bitch!" she screamed, "you peed on me! What kind of sick perverted dyke are you?" She finally succeeded in pushing Mariah away and looked down at herself. Her crotch was stained dark blue with moisture, and similar patches extended down her legs, growing as she watched. "Is there a problem here?" the mall cop asked. It looked like a fight was about to break out, and that was exactly the sort of thing the mall didn't want happening -- especially during busy periods like Saturdays. "She was looking for the restrooms and didn't make it in time," Mariah answered smoothly, just as Sheila repeated, "she fucking pissed on me!" and pointed at her. The cop looked at them again. On the one side, the giggling blonde who looked like she'd been crying and the redhead in front of her looked exactly like the sort of upscale customer the mall wanted to attract; Mariah twisted her wrist slightly, ensuring he saw not only her Victoria's Secret bag, but the Anne Fontaine bag next to it. The girls on the other side looked like run of the mill high school kids, but with a vibe he didn't like. Their leader sure looked like she'd pissed herself, and the other two looked immaculate. "Will this take long, officer?" Mariah asked politely. "We have reservations at the Back Room." If JJ's was the casual restaurant at Deer Meadow Hills, JJ's Back Room -- the restaurant-within-a-restaurant -- was an entirely different kind of "casual," with an entirely different kind of clientele. Still, everybody except the redhead looked surprised at this development. If she was lying, it would be easy enough to catch her. "Don't worry, miss. What name is the reservation under? We can let them know you might be delayed." "Haskell," she smiled sweetly. The name tipped the scales, as she'd guessed it would. Beautiful young women, wearing expensive clothes, making expensive purchases, dining at expensive restaurants, and with expensive last names -- all of it flowing to the mall's bottom line. It wasn't favoritism so much as it was just a weighing of factors to reach a reasonable judgment. "On second thought, Miss Haskell, you can go along to your lunch now. Enjoy the rest of your visit." "You lying cunt!" Sheila shouted. "This isn't over!" "Perhaps you girls would like to continue shopping elsewhere today," the mall cop suggested repressively. While he and his partner herded Sheila and her friends toward the mall entrance, Mariah gently tugged Zoe in the direction of the restaurant. "I thought we were going to JJ's," Zoe hiccupped, and wiped salty teardrops from her cheeks. Feeling self-conscious, she was sure she looked like a wreck next to Mariah's composed beauty. "We are going to JJ's," Mariah assured her as they swept in.A hostess not much older than they were escorted them upstairs, through the dividing partition, and to one of the curtained booths at the rear of the restaurant. "I just thought you'd prefer someplace a little quieter to talk -- and after that little confrontation, I've had enough public debate for one day." She leaned in to deposit her purchases on one bench, and Zoe scooted in on the other side of the table; Mariah sat down beside the blonde, instead of next to her bags. "Isn't this cozy?" The waitress arrived with a bottle of sparkling water before Zoe could answer. Janet introduced herself and solicited drink orders; Zoe asked for strawberry lemonade, and Mariah ordered a virgin banana daiquiri. "I love the taste of virgin bananas," she confided when they were alone again. "Aren't you ever serious?" Zoe wondered, her spirits lifting a bit as she tried to put the confrontation downstairs behind her. She concentrated on the menu, looking for something uncomplicated and not too expensive. Mariah had already set her menu aside. "I'm serious about the things I want," she purred. "That's why I'm here with you. Now, why did you pick today to decide to meet me?" "Let's get our food first," Zoe demurred. She was able to delay any further serious questions until drinks, potstickers, and a pair of chopped salads had been delivered and partially consumed. With the edge taken off her hunger, the blonde set down her fork and looked at Mariah. "I saw a porno film with you in it," she began. Of course, Mariah perked up immediately rather than displaying any embarrassment or hesitation. "Oh, cool! You are such the surprise, Zoe -- I wouldn't have figured you for that." She took in Zoe's expression. "You didn't think I was going to deny it, did you?" the redhead laughed. "Where did you find it? Spill! I want to know all the details!" Zoe shook her head and replied, "It's a complicated story I don't intend to share. What I want to know is, did the school or TRAINCO have anything to do with this?" Mariah turned coy. "Which one was it?" "So they are involved with pornography?" countered Zoe. "It's a complicated story," Mariah parroted. "I'd need to know which video you saw to give you an honest answer. C'mon, Zoe, which one was it?" She grinned. "Was I hot? Did you like it?" Zoe sighed, "I think it was called 'Two-Fisted Pleasure Addict'." Mariah looked disgusted. "I never know the titles, although it sounds like maybe that's a good thing. 'Two-Fisted Pleasure Addict'? That could be anything! Describe it -- what did I do?" The present location didn't seem to be the sort of place Zoe would have chosen for this, but it was quiet and private. She glanced at the curtain closing off their booth, pretty much the same in substance (if not style) as the curtains at the Leopard's Lair, and they hadn't done much good. Still... "It started with you in a bikini," Zoe began, "and I think you'd already had sex because you were dripping semen. You used a dildo to get yourself off. Then you were at the market, and you stole two cucumbers and stuck them in yourself, and sat on a bench and masturbated with them." "Zoe," laughed Mariah, "you make it sound like Masterpiece Theatre or something! That's so clinical; wasn't there mood music or suggestive dialog or something?" "I had it pretty much muted," Zoe admitted. "Didn't want your parents to hear it?" guessed Mariah. "Not really, I," the blonde started, before remembering she wanted to ask the questions. "Anyway, do you remember it yet?" "Maybe," Mariah hedged. "I was at the market a couple of times last summer, before school started. What else? Was anybody else with me?" Zoe shook her head. "Not there. But in the next scene, your mother caught you masturbating in bed and spanked you! Mariah, was that really your mother with you?" "My stage mother," the redhead not-answered. "You couldn't hear any dialog?" "No, I told you the sound was off!" responded Zoe, getting frustrated. "Doesn't any of this sound familiar?" Mariah heaved a sigh. "Zoe, maybe it seems like a big deal from your viewpoint, but I masturbate all the time, and I've fucked a lot of boys, and done more than one of these videos. Look; describe the scene carefully and I'll see if it matches the one I think you might have seen." "If you're thinking of something, why don't you describe it to me instead," the blonde suggested. "It'll be easier to compare that way, I think." "You just want to experience it again, don't you?" Mariah teased, and Zoe blushed but maintained a level gaze. "Okay, we'll try it your way," the redhead sighed, and leaned back against the bench. "Ooooh," Mariah's throaty moan startled Zoe. The redhead broke character and sat up. "You said it started with me masturbating in bed, right?" "Oh, right," giggled Zoe, "you just surprised me. Yeah, you had one dildo in your pussy and you were sucking on another one. They were pretty large, and looked just like real cocks." "Yeah, they were great," sighed Mariah. "Anyway, I'm masturbating and sucking on them, right?" She leaned back and released a long sigh, then shaped her lips into an "O" and pantomimed inserting something between them. After a moment, she dropped the hand and sat up abruptly. "This is where my mother comes in and I pull the sheet over myself, right?" Zoe nodded. "Then what? I can't act out both parts." The blonde thought for a moment, then picked up her napkin and waved it at the redhead. "Look at these filthy panties!" she parodied. "I can't believe I raised my daughter to be such a slut!" "Something like that," laughed Mariah. She assumed an air of bewilderment and asked, "But, Mommy dearest, what do you mean? I am pure; I have no idea what you are talking about." "I'm so sure," Zoe giggled, dropping her napkin and flipping the edge of the tablecloth up off their laps and over the remains of their forgotten salads. She froze at the sight of Mariah's pushed-up skirt as the redhead probed her pussy with a pair of fingers. "Mariah!" she gasped. "You can't do that here!" "This is when she slapped me, right?" Mariah asked, trailing a glistening fingertip up towards her navel and then down again. "Yeah," gulped the blonde, "and then pulled you over her lap. Don't you dare move!" She warned Mariah, "I am not spanking you!" Nevertheless, she couldn't take her eyes off the other girl's delectable mound, and twitched as she felt her own dampen. The redhead started slapping the top of her thigh lightly with her left hand, slowly at first and then increasingly rapidly. She glanced at Zoe, who nodded, recognizing the rhythm. Both girls were quiet, lips parted, staring at the flicking fingers. Zoe tensed slightly as they approached the point where Mariah's mother had grabbed the first of the dildos. As usual with the redhead, she realized that somewhere she'd completely ceded control of the encounter. Mariah reached over and lifted Zoe's hand, fighting token resistance before placing it over her bare pussy. Zoe felt the warmth of the redhead's bare skin and labial rings, and then Mariah was using her hand to force Zoe's middle finger into the creaming heat of her slit. "Mommy, I've been a bad girl," Mariah whispered, resuming the rapping of her thigh as she continued to guide Zoe's finger in and out of herself. A minute later, Zoe cleared her throat and, on her second try, managed to whisper, "We shouldn't be doing this." They were looking each other in the eyes, and the blonde's finger was stroking on its own now. "Do you want to stop?" Zoe *didn't* want to stop -- she wanted to watch Mariah squirm and feel her climax; she wanted to stroke herself, and ease the molten need building up inside her dripping snatch. But they were in public! The waitress could come back any minute and catch them like this. "I think I need to use the bathroom," the blonde stammered, belatedly withdrawing her hand. Mariah looked disappointed. "That's just cruel," she pouted. "I was so looking forward to finally seeing your pretty pussy, and you want to run away and jill off by yourself. Is that what you did when you watched me before?" "No, I really need to pee," Zoe objected. It was the truth, but she still blushed in the face of Mariah's accusations. As if putting her need into words had intensified it, her bladder throbbed. "I haven't gone since breakfast. Please let me out, Mariah." "I think I have a solution that could make all of us happy," Mariah smiled. "Besides, you haven't seen how I think the video ended!" She turned toward Zoe and reached out to quickly unbutton the blonde's fly. "Mariah!" Zoe hissed, trying to keep her voice down, as she batted at the redhead's hands on her zipper. The close fit of the jeans meant it was nearly impossible to pull the zipper up with one hand while she was seated, and it inexorably slid further down as their battle continued. Suddenly, Mariah, who had been leaning nearly into Zoe's lap, slid sideways under the table. The folds of the tablecloth, caught between the table and the back of the redhead's sweater, pulled everything toward the edge. Zoe reflexively jabbed her hands against the table, pinning the tablecloth in place as the free edge flopped down, and preserving her salad from a dive into her lap. The downside was that she ceded the battle for her zipper to Mariah, who began slowly pulling the jeans down her hips; Zoe tried to press herself against the seat, but the leather upholstery and low rise of the jeans meant her efforts were mostly ineffective. She gripped the waistband, playing tug-of-war. Worse, Zoe caught the hint of a footstep outside. She schooled herself to stillness as their waitress pulled the curtain aside and looked in. "How are you two doing?" Janet inquired, glancing at the table. "Is everything tasting okay?" "It's very nice, thanks," replied Zoe.She gracefully transferred her napkin back to her lap, covering the bare skin that appeared as Mariah silently tugged her jeans down to her ankles. "Can I get you another lemonade?" the waitress persisted. "Would your friend like another drink?" Zoe could feel Mariah shaking with repressed laughter between her legs. The humor of the situation was getting to her, and she fought a giggle of her own. "Sure," she decided, "get us both another drink." "I'll have that for you right away," promised Janet, and she stepped back, drawing the curtain closed. She reappeared a second later, summoned by Zoe's yelp. "Did you say something?" "Oh!" the blonde repeated, in a more measured tone. "I dropped my fork under the table; could you bring me another?" Zoe didn't mention she'd dropped it when Mariah had pushed her tongue against Zoe's thong. "Certainly," Janet smiled before disappearing again. "Mariah, stop!" Zoe whispered urgently, and pushed at the head-sized lump in the tablecloth between her legs. That didn't dissuade Mariah from pulling her forward until she balanced on the edge of the seat, and stripping her underwear down her legs too. The napkin dropped to the floor beside the fork, unnoticed. Zoe wriggled again, but to release nervous energy rather than struggle, as Mariah's tongue started delicately lapping away the nectar leaking from her pink folds. It felt so much better than a finger or her dildo, infinitely soft and flexible but firm and warm. The redhead's breath teased the soft hairs of the patch atop her mound and her fingers trailed lightly down the insides of Zoe's thighs, leaving goose bumps behind them. Eyes unfocused, Zoe thought back to the image of Mariah she'd watched earlier in the morning, and felt herself come quickly to the edge of orgasm, fueled by the intense stimulation between her legs and the knowledge that it was Mariah herself doing the stimulating. A hard object pressed against her anus before slipping wetly into it; after a moment, Zoe recognized it as the handle of her dropped fork. Her objections died unvoiced as Mariah redoubled her attentions to the blonde's throbbing clit. Janet picked that moment to return with the drinks, which she placed on the table before extending a new set of silverware, wrapped in a napkin, to the trembling blonde. Zoe, using her off hand, fumbled it. Both young women watched the bundle fall, spin off the edge of the table, ricochet against the seat back, and slide across the smooth leather to fall under the table with a dull thud. "I'll get it," the waitress offered brightly, and stooped before a stricken Zoe could get in a word. After a long moment which seemed to last much longer, Janet rose and placed the silverware bundle silently on the end of the table, staring at Zoe with wide eyes and open mouth. Zoe stared back at her, wondering if this was how she had appeared to Mariah at the opening assembly. It was eerily the same, except the waitress was a few years older and this was so much nastier.... Mariah began stirring the fork handle in her ass and slurping noisily, and Zoe shook as her knuckles whitened on the edge of the table. "Oooooh fuck," the blonde moaned, and shuddered into a delicious orgasm as the waitress fled. The only thing better than this, Zoe thought, would be to have Dean fucking her instead of Mariah's tongue. Or maybe to have Dean fucking her while she was riding Mariah's tongue. That thought was enough to make her climax again, biting her lip in an attempt to avoid crying out. Mariah gave her a moment to catch her breath before commenting from beneath the table, "I thought you needed to pee. I'm waiting." "That's gross," Zoe objected. The soft laugh beneath the table wafted across her cunt, teasing her. "It didn't feel so gross in the hall with Ms. Petersen, did it?" A tongue trailed down her dripping slit. "Go on -- I want to drink you up as much as you want to let it go!" Zoe had always thought of something like that as perverted, but none of the girls -- or Ms. Petersen -- she'd seen at school had seemed to mind, and Mariah said she wanted it. It had felt so exciting to piss in the library, and she remembered the mild high she'd felt that morning when she wet herself in bed and masturbated. It was erotic, wasn't it? A little spurt of urine escaped, and Mariah's mouth clamped over her, sucking. That decided her; tentatively at first, and then relaxing completely, Zoe let the hot urine jet out of her and down Mariah's throat. It felt empowering to know she was sitting there half naked in an expensive restaurant while perhaps the most beautiful girl in school worshipped her cunt and let herself be used like a human toilet. The redhead took it all, apparently missing not a single drop. Mariah wriggled back onto the seat beside her as Zoe leaned back, feeling emptied out and totally relaxed. The two girls shared a deep kiss; Zoe tasted the sharp tang of her urine on Mariah's tongue. Janet cleared her throat, attracting their attention. "Is there anything else I can bring you, ladies?" Zoe thought it was cute the way she avoided making eye contact for more than a brief moment at a time, but seemed unable to look away from them. "Would you like some boxes for your salads?" Zoe nodded, and then added, "yes, please," unsure the waitress had seen her. "And let's see the dessert tray," Mariah chimed in, with the angelic smile Zoe knew meant trouble for somebody. "Go easy on her," Zoe urged after Janet left. Despite her concern, she couldn't help laughing as she added, "can't you see she's practically freaking out?" Her jeans and underwear were still tangled around her feet on the floor, but the blonde took the opportunity to reach between her legs and draw the fork out of her asshole. The handle was smeared all the way to the base of the head, and Zoe handled it gingerly as she laid it on her bread plate. "Janet can look out for herself," Mariah laughed back, "but we're not ending this meal before we share dessert." A little more seriously, she judged, "I think she would have said something to somebody already if she really had a problem. Here she comes -- just play along and stay cool!" Sure enough, the waitress was back, depositing a pair of empty foam take-home containers in the middle of the table and perching a tray filled with pastries and cakes at the end of it. "All of our desserts are made fresh in-house every day," Janet began. "This is our molten chocolate lava cake, optionally served a la mode; carrot cake with cream cheese frosting; caramel apple pie with a scoop of cinnamon..." Her presentation petered out as Mariah leaned back into Zoe, raising her left foot onto the seat, and drawing the hem of her skirt upwards until her wet sex was completely exposed. Zoe wrapped her arms around Mariah, cradling her breasts through the sweater, and craned her head over the redhead's shoulder to enjoy the view. "My God, are those real?" Janet whispered, staring at the rings adorning Mariah's glistening labia. She looked around as if she were about to bolt, but surprised Zoe by not moving. "How old are you little perverts, anyway?" "Old enough," Mariah assured her with a smile. "Are you sure you wouldn't like a little taste for dessert? I'm very sweet." "I'm sure," agreed the waitress, with a faint smile, "but you're not on the menu, and it's not worth my job. I think perhaps we should all pass on dessert." Picking up the tray, she departed, saying, "I'll just get your bill, shall I?" "You are so bad!" giggled Zoe. "Don't you ever worry about getting caught?" "You've caught me right now, and that doesn't seem to have worked out so badly." Mariah repositioned the blonde's hands so Zoe could feel her nipples pressing against the sweater. "But come on, one of us can still have dessert -- it's your turn under the table!" Zoe already had been thinking about Mariah's pussy in a way that made her own wet again. "Don't pee on me," she warned the redhead, "I'm not into that." "Yet," Mariah quipped. After catching a glimpse of Zoe's frown, she turned serious and added, "I'll behave." Remembering her earlier brush with disaster, Zoe eyed the tablecloth carefully as she slid down the seat and underneath the table. It was a little cramped, and she took a moment to shed her shoes and kick the jeans free of her ankles so she could move about more easily. Mariah already had scooted forward, lifted her skirt out of the way, and spread her legs; Zoe crawled between them and examined the bald pussy on display before her. It looked a lot like her own, except it was entirely devoid of hair and sported a pair of rings on each side. Still, it was the first time she'd ever been this close to one before. She leaned closer and inhaled deeply, savoring the heady scent of Mariah's musk. Zoe ran a finger lightly along the bare lips, watching the rings twist in the dim light, and then pushed a finger inwards. It encountered no resistance, sliding easily into Mariah's slick heat and emerging coated with lubrication. Zoe sucked her finger clean, delighting in the taste that was so nearly hers but with some ineffable difference that made her drip and want more. The blonde began licking Mariah's pubis, cleaning the dewdrops that clung to it, and then her tongue darted inside the redhead and she began working in earnest. Zoe might not have eaten out a girl before, but she knew what she liked and -- as Dean had discovered -- she was a natural. Mariah was moaning and sighing when Janet returned with the bill. "Can't you two keep it down?" the waitress pleaded. "The nearest tables can almost hear you." "Tell them we really liked the cannoli," Mariah replied, "and put it all on this." "Hey!" Zoe objected, hitting her head on the bottom of the table. "I thought we were splitting the bill!" She fumbled in the pocket of her hoodie for some money, and thrust it in the direction of Janet's leg.The waitress knelt and accepted it, taking a long look at Zoe, who belatedly remembered she was naked from the waist down. Something about the situation ignited a perverse streak in Zoe, and she began stroking her clit, displaying it for Janet, before diving back into Mariah's creaming snatch and redoubling her efforts to bring off the redhead. It didn't take her long to bring Mariah to a vocal climax. Just as with Dean, the rush of moisture from a shuddering body combined with her own teasing finger brought Zoe over the edge into her own delicious orgasm. Out of breath and feeling flushed, she tossed her clothing onto the seat beside the shopping bags and crawled out from under the end of the table. Zoe unzipped the hoodie and flapped the ends, cooling herself, while she and Mariah traded looks of sated pleasure. Finally, the blonde looked over at her clothes and threaded the thong off of the leg of her jeans. Zoe considered it for a moment and proceeded to dry her crotch with the scrap of fabric. "Here," she giggled, "you collect these," and tossed it to Mariah. She was just fastening her jeans when Janet returned, wearing a worried expression that relaxed considerably when she saw the girls. "Oh good," she whispered, "somebody complained to the manager. Just look respectable, okay?" The waitress placed the bill wallet on the table near Mariah and, in a louder voice, told them, "thanks again for visiting JJ's; I hope we see you again soon!" With a final wink, she departed, leaving the curtain open behind her. Zoe plopped on the seat next to the bags, obscuring her bare feet, and began transferring the remains of their salads into the take-home boxes while Mariah added a tip to the charge slip and signed it. Both of them smiled politely at the severe-looking gentleman who circulated by a minute later; he slowed beside their booth, but neither stopped nor spoke to them before moving away. The girls dissolved into laughter. "Look at this!" Mariah gasped, pushing the charge slip across the table to Zoe. "Thanks!" was scribbled at the top, and "Guest Copy" was circled at the bottom; but Zoe saw that "Your Server: Janet" was underlined, and a phone number was written beneath it. "Oh my God," giggled Zoe, "are you going to call her?" Mariah retrieved the slip and copied the number to the top of the slip before tearing it in half. "I don't know; maybe you should call her -- I swear she spent more time looking at you than me." She gave the bottom part back to Zoe. "No, really?" Surprised, and feeling a mix of satisfaction and embarrassment, Zoe pushed the scrap into a pocket and concentrated on boxing up the last salad. "I couldn't do that," she finally admitted, "I already have a relationship with Dean. I couldn't cheat on him!" "What do you call this?" Mariah asked, rolling her eyes. "I --" Zoe stopped, completely flustered. "God, why do you always do this to me? It's like every time I'm around you, things go all crazy and nothing ends up like I expected!" "You're so sweet." Mariah blew her a kiss. "And here I was thinking I wasn't getting to you. Luckily for you, I'm not the jealous type, so you can just go on hooking up with both of us." "I haven't hooked up with anybody," objected Zoe. "Technically," she added after seeing Mariah's expression of disbelief. "Technically?" Mariah rolled the word slowly off her tongue. "As in, 'technically I'm still a virgin'?" She laughed when Zoe nodded. "I'm sorry, Zoe, I'm not being mean, but what's the difference?" "I haven't had intercourse; you know, with a penis inside me. Everybody knows this other stuff doesn't count; it's just -- like masturbating but with two people." Mariah wove her fingers together and cradled her chin on them. "I'm fascinated. So, is Dean 'technically' a virgin, too? What are you two waiting for -- your honeymoon?" Zoe blushed and shook her head. "No! I just don't want to rush into anything serious I might regret later." She gestured vaguely in the direction of the mall. "I saw how that worked for my friend, and she only took a crappy picture that didn't hardly even show anything." "Zoe, it isn't serious -- it's a cock. Like masturbating with a vibrator, but without batteries," Mariah grinned. "And don't act like you don't know what I mean, because I got a good look and you've had something in there before." Giggling at the thought, she continued, "Dean must be dying! You know, I could give him some relief and break him in for you -- he'd still be just as good, or better..." "This isn't a joke!" Zoe screamed, stung by the thought of Dean with Mariah. "Hey, calm down," Mariah urged her, holding up her hands. "I'm just saying that both of you are made for sex; OMG, Zoe, you are so hot and it should be illegal to use a tongue like you do. I just don't see a point in waiting, and you might regret the wasted time later." The redhead smiled to underline her humor before adding, "and it's a shame to keep Dean's cock all to yourself if you aren't going to use it." Zoe smiled sheepishly, not immune to compliments -- especially when they came from somebody who was obviously more experienced and so sexy herself. "Sorry," she apologized, "I guess I'm just a little insecure. Leave it alone, okay?" Mariah nodded, not that Zoe planned to trust her around Dean anyway. She was bent over, putting on her shoes, when Zoe heard the faint reminder beep from the phone in her pocket. She'd missed the text message when it came in earlier. "s&k po'd & w8ng 4 u. go 2 macys -- shea" "Some people can't take a joke," Mariah commented after Zoe relayed the message. "What do you think? Do you trust her?" "Shea? Yeah, I think so. Let's see what she says." Zoe started typing, and got a response almost immediately. "She's at the Macy's mall entrance on the upper level; apparently Sheila and her pals have most of the exits staked out." Mariah looked impatient, so the blonde shared a bit more of her thinking. "Shea doesn't know what they're planning, but I don't want to mess with Sheila if I can avoid it. If we go past Shea, she'll just tell everybody she didn't see us and there's no problem. Where did you park?" "Over on the far end, outside Needless Markup." "That's okay," Zoe decided. "I'm near the mall entrance in the deck, but Macy's isn't that far. I can drive you around to your car." Mariah groused, "you certainly have interesting friends," but joined Zoe in standing. She tucked the thong into the Victoria's Secret bag and then picked up her bags and accepted one of the take-out boxes from Zoe. "Hardly friends," Zoe muttered. She typed a last message, "on way," and pocketed her phone as they walked out. The pair exited through the restaurant's smaller upstairs entrance and turned left; the anchor store came into view almost immediately, and it took Zoe only a minute to spot Shea's pink and white coat near the top of the escalator just outside the store entrance. They passed within about 10 yards of Shea, who pointedly continued to scan the mall behind them and didn't even glance at Zoe when the blonde smiled at her. It took them several chilly minutes to cross part of the deck, descend a flight of stairs to the lower level, and locate her father's car. Zoe unlocked the doors and snatched her coat to make room for Mariah in the passenger's seat; she remembered the DVD as soon she saw the brown bag sitting there, but Mariah grabbed it and sat down before the blonde could do anything. Zoe shrugged and started the car, hoping the engine would warm up quickly. Mariah started laughing hysterically as soon as she slid the DVD case out of the bag. "This picture makes me look like such a bimbo! I can't believe you brought this with you, Zoe!" She looked over the case more carefully. "How did you find this, anyway? It's not like my name is on it." Blushing, Zoe admitted, "I thought I recognized you on a different one, but couldn't find it again. I found this by looking for the same distributor." Mariah laughed harder. "You collect my porno videos? I so misjudged you!" "It's not like that!" objected Zoe, but she was laughing too. "This is the first adult movie I ever saw, and I only bought it because they wouldn't let me watch it otherwise. I'm not into kinky stuff like you." "Says the girl who just got off with another girl in a public restaurant in front of a total stranger! And don't try to tell me you bought this at Target." "That," said Zoe, trying to regain the high ground, "is evidence, and I protect my sources. Speaking of which, you never did tell me how it got made. *Did* TRAINCO have anything to do with it?" Suddenly serious, Mariah silently looked at her for a long moment. "And what if I said yes? What would you do then?" A car honked behind them, impatiently waiting for their parking space. "Screw you," Zoe shouted. Putting the car in gear, she backed out and started towards the parking deck exit. "I'd blow the whistle on them," she answered the redhead. "It's illegal, and unethical, and they shouldn't be taking advantage of us like that. Even those of us who don't seem to mind it." "You'd never be able to prove it, you know, hypothetically, if it were true," Mariah countered. "Not from just this, or even talking to me. Nobody would believe you." "Help me," Zoe pleaded. "I know you know things about what's going on; share them with me." The redhead considered. "Come with me to Spots sometime," she finally offered. "Hell, bring Dean if you want to. Just play along; I think I could show you something you'd like to see." "I'll think about it," replied Zoe, hesitant in her turn. She relished the thought of making progress in her investigation, but an invitation to "play along" with Mariah made her wary -- especially with Dean involved. As she'd learned again today, Mariah brought out parts of herself she wasn't sure about and didn't seem to be able to control.Zoe thought about it even more after she had dropped Mariah at her car, exchanged a parting kiss, and watched the redhead drive away. After calling home with a status report, she worried over the issue the entire drive back. Was there some safer, more controllable way to find out what she wanted?

ft ws mf fsolo m+f+ Fff oral reluc sm Mf cbt MF anal inc ff

Part 4 of 7

Authors/Virtual_Scott/Prospects/Prospects4.txt

Virtual Scott

Prospects

Zoe pushed the cereal around her bowl and reviewed her plans for the day. The business about the nurse had been percolating in the back of her head for a while now, and it seemed that today was as good a day as any to follow up on it. It defied reasonable belief that a body piercing operation like Paige described could be located at Hyde without raising a stink. Of course, Zoe knew by now that just writing about it would be worthless; an editorial black hole existed to swallow every article she produced. As Zoe figured it, actually *getting* a piercing would provide incontrovertible evidence of official complicity. It'd be much better than Paige's unsubstantiated word. Dean could even photograph it. She squirmed in anticipation at the thought of showing Dean. The puzzle she'd been working on was what kind of piercing to get. Zoe thought it should be, well, sexual; something noteworthy. Nobody would care about a pierced ear, or navel, or eyebrow, or whatever. Nipple piercings like Paige were out -- there was no way Zoe could hide those from her parents, even without the chain. A casual glance at her mother's hard nipples poking dimples in her thin blouse as she loaded the dishwasher confirmed anything there would be pretty visible. Getting pierced "down there" like Mariah seemed, well, a little radical. She'd have to expose herself to somebody for it, even if it was in a clinical setting. It wasn't like Zoe *wanted* to get pierced; it was just for a story and the information. She'd finally decided a tongue stud seemed like the way to go. It wouldn't show much, and she could pretend to have a cold or something for a few days if it was swollen. Plus, Zoe thought, she'd *really* have something to show Dean -- it could be his Valentine's Day gift. Becky Ryan returned her daughter's smile. She'd been a little worried that Zoe had seemed down after the holidays, and it was good to know she was enjoying school again. Zoe knocked gently on the frosted glass door labeled "Nurse Station / Urgent Care -- Shefali Patel, RN" before opening it. "Come in, please," invited an attractive woman in a trim white lab coat. "I'm Nurse Patel, but I hope you will call me Shefali. Please lock the door behind you and tell me how I can assist you." She gestured to an armchair beside her cleared desk. "First, may I please see your badge?" Zoe handed it over, uncertainly. The nurse inspected it and plugged it into a reader, then studied the popup on her monitor. "Thank you, Zoe; you may have your badge back now." She noticed the teen's hesitancy. "Do not be concerned. I merely have confirmed you are an active student here and are eligible for service." "Is there a record of my visit?" "Of course; we keep careful records. But they all constitute part of your medical history, which is stringently protected by law. In fact, I am proud to say TRAINCO also observes EU regulations, which are even more stringent than HIPPA requirements in some respects. Nobody other than the two of us will see your records without a court order." "Not even my parents?" Zoe asked dubiously. Shefali checked the monitor. "No. The system shows that when you registered, they waived custodial rights with respect to your medical care, and you did not elect to grant them access to your medical records." Zoe's mind boggled at that statement. Apparently she and her mother had not examined that stack of fine print closely enough! "Now please, be at ease. What brought you here today?" "I heard you can do piercings?" Zoe asked, a bit uncertainly. "A friend told me about it." "Oh, yes!" Shefali confirmed happily. "I can perform a wide variety of cosmetic and personal hygiene procedures. I have a brochure, if you would care to examine it." It was a long list, starting with inoculations, acne treatments, contraceptives and pregnancy testing, pedicures, manicures, and quickly graduating to words Zoe did not recognize. "Can I take this with me?" "Regretfully, no. We wish to avoid needlessly upsetting those in the community who would otherwise be prone to interfere with the choices of others who share different beliefs." "That makes sense," Zoe agreed. "I just don't understand half of the things you have listed here!" "So true!" The nurse had a musical laugh. "The medical community likes to be its own little club! But, I am here to interpret for you. I believe you mentioned a piercing? What kind are you interested in?" "I was thinking of a tongue stud," Zoe said. "Oh yes, an excellent choice! Attractive, and very useful too, for a young lady such as yourself," Shefali added with a knowing look. "For you, I think I would recommend our standard barbell. Are you very familiar with these types of appliances?" "Not at all," admitted the teen. "Well, I will tell you for your information. Our exclusive system has several benefits compared to what you may find available elsewhere." She rummaged in a cabinet drawer and extracted a small box. "Here is what you get. Unlike some other models, this one unscrews like so" -- she demonstrated -- "so it is possible to remove or replace it, although it takes some practice to master." Shefali dropped the barbell a few inches to the desktop, where it bounced quietly a few times before coming to a rest. "Very importantly, our studs are coated with a proprietary cushioning layer that also has the same antimicrobial properties as surgical steel! This means you will not risk chipping your pretty teeth accidentally." She picked up the barbell and replaced it in the box. "Lastly, our advanced installation process allows me to place the stud in your tongue with much less trauma and dramatically faster recovery time than conventional piercing. Most people experience almost no swelling at all, which is how we are able to avoid temporary use of a longer post." Zoe picked up the box and looked at it. The general process sounded in line with what Paige had intimated, and sounded less threatening than she'd expected. "So this is it?" "Well, not this exact stud," Shefali explained, "it is not sterilized. But I do recommend the ball to begin with. You will find it has all the sensation you desire, without the edges and corners some users find annoying. You may always replace the balls with another shape in the future, if you desire." "I want to get this one," Zoe decided. "What do I have to do next?" "Well, we can do that now; the procedure is very quick." The nurse tapped a couple of keys and studied her monitor. "Hmmm, but I see we will need to do a physical first." "What?" Zoe hadn't planned on that. "A physical? Why?" "To make sure you are in good physical health. I do not wish to play games with your body, Zoe. If you got an infection, you could become very sick. And it is good to be proactive and have a baseline for you. This too is not a very strenuous procedure. If I keep you long enough that you are late for your next class, I will give you a medical tardy slip your teacher will accept." "Let's get on with it, then." "Try to sound more excited, Zoe! I am not an ogre, am I?" Shefali opened the rear door of the office. "Here is the exam room; please remove your clothes and sit on the table, and I will be with you momentarily." Zoe looked around the small room. She had hung her jacket and ID badge on a wall hook and was unbuttoning her blouse when Shefali rejoined her, carrying a sealed stud box and an electronic tablet. It was hard to continue undressing in the presence of a stranger, personable as she was, but the nurse seemed sensitive to her mood and pointedly studied the tablet rather than Zoe. The teen didn't realize it, but that was because the database record for Ryan, Zoe contained flagged special instructions, in addition to her standard physical measurements and inoculation history, and Shefali was considering them carefully. "Underwear too, please, Zoe," Shefali directed after a quick glance. Zoe was glad she was wearing black bikinis today, which didn't show dampness easily, and that it was still early in the day. "You are a beautiful young lady, Zoe," the nurse complimented her. "This will not take a minute, I assure you." It actually took rather more than a minute, and was far more thorough than the last examination Zoe had received from her family doctor. It was particularly disconcerting to have Shefali peering closely at her legs, armpits, and pubic area. Finally Shefali announced, "well, Zoe, you are in excellent health." She consulted the notes she'd entered on the tablet again. "However, there are a few things I would like to discuss with you." Zoe nodded nervously. "First, I detect some dryness on your legs. This probably is from hot showers and too much use of soap, which dries your skin. It is nothing to be concerned about, but I think some moisturizing would help with that and keep your skin from cracking." "Also, I found a few ingrown hairs above your pubic mound and under your armpits."You have shaved there, yes?" Oh God, thought Zoe, how embarrassing. She nodded again. "I had to trim a bit more for the new two-piece swimsuits." "I thought so. Shaving is not good for your skin, Zoe." "How can that be?" Zoe asked. "Everybody shaves all the time, and nothing ever happens." "No, no," Shefali objected, waving a finger back and forth. "People thought cigarette smoking was okay once also, yes, and they were mistaken. This is not so bad a thing as that." She pulled up a diagram on the tablet and showed it to the teen. "You see? Getting scraped by a razor like that damages the skin, irritating it and making it more vulnerable to infections. Additionally, the hair remains and grows back, like a weed when you just break it off instead of uprooting it. The regrown hair actually may become thicker and coarser than it was before, and if it is trapped below the skin and becomes ingrown, it can cause blackheads or worse problems. It is better to remove the hair permanently." "You mean waxing, or electrolysis?" Zoe asked. What she'd heard about both left her feeling it would be better to just leave the hair alone. "Those techniques are unnecessarily painful and slow, and do not work so well," stated the nurse. "I recommend use of a special depilatory cream." The blonde wrinkled her nose. "Like Nair? That stuff is nasty!" Shefali grimaced too. "Yes, I would agree with you. For stripping paint perhaps, but not for a woman's skin! No, we have a proprietary formula" -- Zoe seemed to be hearing that phrase a lot -- "that is far superior. It will moisturize and strengthen your skin, while removing your unwanted hair permanently and painlessly. It is very popular." Zoe looked down at herself. "How permanent is 'permanent'?" She'd remembered waiting for her tuft to sprout at puberty and wasn't sure she was ready to say goodbye to it forever. The woman followed her gaze. "Completely permanent, I must say. You have a choice to make, Zoe. For myself, I would say to remove it; it is much easier to care for. But you must decide for yourself." She thought about it. What would she look like, bare? Like Mariah, perhaps? "Take it all off," Zoe said, suddenly enthusiastic. "You are sure? This is not a decision you can reverse." Zoe nodded. "Very good," Shefali congratulated her. "Now, this will be a little messy but not so bad. First, let's do up your hair and get it all under this cap, yes? We do not want to remove any of this." Zoe donned the shower cap and checked carefully to make sure her tresses were completely tucked into it. Meanwhile, the nurse had donned some elbow-length gloves and looked like she was ready to start painting a house. "Okay, Zoe, all I need is for you to stand here, with your legs apart like so and remain still. Do not be disconcerted; I must touch you all over to make sure the cream is completely distributed." With that, she removed the lid from a bucket and began painting a faintly cool purple gel down Zoe's arm, using what appeared to be a normal paint brush. Using broad strokes, Shefali progressively covered nearly all of the girl's body from shoulders to toes. "Now the mess," Shefali announced. Setting the brush aside, she dipped both hands in the bucket and began to spread more of the gel across Zoe, working out from the brush strokes and massaging it across every inch of her skin below the neck. It was particularly embarrassing for Zoe to feel the nurse massaging the gel around and into her crotch. The only saving grace was that Shefali remained cheerfully impersonal even when she slathered a handful of gel on Zoe's butt and worked it down the length of her crack, even to the point of gliding fingers briefly into her anus and vagina. "All done!" Shefali announced. "That was not so bad, yes?" "It was okay, I guess," admitted Zoe. "Good! Now, if you use the shower here" -- the nurse pushed open the door with her back -- "to rinse all of that off, I will clean up out here and then we will take care of your tongue." Zoe lumbered carefully into the stall and started the water. It became warm almost immediately, and she washed off the gel under the spray. It melted away from her skin effortlessly, her skin tingling under the pounding of the water. Although she looked for it, Zoe didn't see any hair going down the drain. But when she finished, she didn't see any hair on her body, either. The blonde ran a hand down one arm. Her hand felt smooth, soft, skin gliding under it. Her arm felt a trail of tingles where the fingertips passed, raising goose bumps momentarily. She shivered. "Shefali, is it normal for my skin to be more sensitive?" "Sometimes," the nurse answered from the exam room. "I believe the sensation will diminish in a little bit." Actually, it wouldn't diminish at all, but presumably Principal Edwards had his reasons for directing her to use this instead of the more neutral depilatory cream. Zoe turned off the water and started toweling herself dry. Embarrassingly, her nipples became tight and erect almost immediately after she started rubbing down her breasts. She carefully patted the rest of her body dry, but her bare mound was equally sensitive. Her totally exposed sex was flowered open in glistening readiness. When she removed the shower cap, Zoe was sure she could feel every individual hair that brushed her neck and shoulders. She wrapped the towel about herself and padded back to the exam room, where Shefali was waiting for her. Zoe's hopes for a dignified escape were crushed. "Come, come, and let us see how you look! How can we tell anything with you wrapped up like that?" Shefali held out an imperious hand. Very, very, reluctantly, Zoe let the towel fall away from her body and handed it to the nurse. It felt totally different than being naked in front of somebody with a sexual interest in her. Totally humiliating, actually. "Yes, I see," Shefali observed, making an additional note on her pad. "Tell me, does this hurt?" She ran a fingertip from Zoe's navel down to just above her pussy. Zoe's insides clenched and a glistening dewdrop of feminine nectar dripped on the floor. Zoe replied, "no," as she felt the heat of her blush. "It doesn't hurt at all -- it's just really sensitive." "You can get dressed, then. Hop up on the table when you are done." Another note went into the electronic pad, and Shefali pulled on a new pair of surgical gloves. Not needing to be told twice, Zoe quickly donned her clothes. They felt a bit prickly, except for her bikinis, which were on their way to becoming sodden. Finally, she had arrived at the point of her visit. "Now, this is a little tricky," Shefali warned her after arranging the tray to her satisfaction. "You open your mouth and stick out your tongue. I will numb it with this swab, then hold your tongue here and insert the stud and first ball. I then attach the other ball. After a moment, you can rinse your mouth and we are done! Are you ready?" For her answer, Zoe opened her mouth and extended her tongue. "Very good!" Shefali praised her, dabbing some green gunk on it. As promised, Zoe lost sensation in her tongue almost immediately. The nurse grabbed something -- Zoe couldn't feel a thing -- with her forceps, and then pushed another instrument into her crowded mouth. "Open wide! Hold still!" There was a faint "thunk" and the instruments were removed, as the nurse admonished her, "don't move! Don't move!" Then Shefali attached the other ball with a few deft turns of the hand. "Congratulations, Zoe, that was very well done. Now you have only one task left. I need you to rinse your mouth with this water, and spit it out in the sink, without biting your tongue." She used a small bulb syringe to squirt the water into Zoe's mouth. Gingerly closing her lips, Zoe swished the water around and walked to the sink. She spit into it, then looked into the small wall mirror above it and opened her mouth. The silver ball glistened atop her tongue. "How long will it be this way?" she lisped. Shefali laughed. "About five minutes." She led the way back into the waiting room. "You were an excellent patient, Zoe! Don't forget I'm here if you need me." "Thanks, Shefali," Zoe said, almost normally. She suspected her skin was going to take as much getting used to as the stud. After spending lunch with Shefali, Zoe had to suffer impatiently through her chemistry class before she could hunt for Dean at the yearbook room. She still wasn't sure if the sensitivity of her skin had diminished, or she'd just grown a little more accustomed to it. Whatever the case, there was no way she was going to wait any longer than necessary to get some badly-needed release. Zoe couldn't bear to suffer through another period. "Ms. Petersen, can I borrow Dean? I had an idea for some pictures to go with that article you wanted, but I think the angle of the sun will be wrong if we wait." The teacher smiled. "I don't think that would be a problem, Zoe. Joanne, will that interfere with what you'd planned to work on today?" "Oh, like, whatever, Zoe." Zoe didn't waste another instant in dragging Dean off to the library. He obviously sensed her excuse was a fabrication, but welcomed any time to spend with her. She found one of the team study rooms empty and appropriated it, marking the reservation sheet for the rest of the day. "Okay, what gives?" Dean asked with easy humor. "I visited the nurse today," Zoe responded, "and what Paige says is true. I got proof!" "What proof?" the suddenly curious boy inquired. "This" -- she stuck out her tongue so he could see the stud in it -- "for one." He looked fascinated, already considering the possibilities, and Zoe eyed the growing bulge in his pants. Zoe reached beneath her skirt and pushed her dripping panties down her legs, then stepped out of them. "And for another... this." She raised the skirt to display her bare mons and her slippery readiness. "God, Zoe," he gasped.His look of naked desire made her even hotter, and his pants were actually tenting. He started fumbling with his zipper, and Zoe knelt to help pull his slacks down and off. Like many of the students, Dean hadn't bothered with underwear today. His rigid cock stood out from his body, but Zoe was appalled to find bite marks on it! "Dean!" she shouted, then guessed the likely perpetrator. "Mariah did this, didn't she?" When he nodded guiltily, she almost started to cry. "Why? Why couldn't you control yourself?" "I did control myself," he protested angrily. "Listen, it wasn't what you think." He tried to calm himself, watching Zoe pace away from him with her arms wrapped around herself. Finally, she turned back to listen. "It was the end of lunch; I was pissing with the guys." Zoe nodded unwillingly. The potted palm by the door was long gone, but now there were a few tables almost always populated by girls who, for whatever incomprehensible reason, were willing to drink the urine of all comers. "Anyway, Mariah was there. You know how she is. She made a play, claimed she had an understanding with you, but all she got from me was piss." Dean's frustration started surfacing. "I'm the one standing here with fucking bites -- very painful, thank you -- on my cock, and you're standing there condemning me for something I didn't even do!" "Look, Zoe, I'm still a virgin, and I want my first time to be with you, but I can't wait forever!" He walked over to her, appeal on his face and rampant need jutting between his legs. "I just don't know..." she temporized. "Well, I fucking do!" he snapped, and pushed her backwards onto the table. Zoe screamed a denial as Dean threw himself on top of her, the head of his cock pushing at her before finding her entrance and forcing its way inside. Zoe screamed a second time as he stretched her. Dean was bigger than her dildo, but she could feel herself creaming around him. He bucked once or twice, and Zoe screamed a third time, orgasming wildly beneath him. The feel of her muscles clenching him spastically set off Dean's climax, and he jetted wad after wad of cum into her. It wasn't enough, not for either of them. Zoe pushed Dean back onto his feet, and then slid forward off the table to squat on the floor and take him in her talented mouth. She'd always been a great cocksucker, but with the stud, she was beyond awesome -- and Dean was still massively aroused by the situation. It didn't take much time to bring him to another orgasm. Zoe cleaned him carefully, enjoying his hot spunk. Dean's cock softened slightly in her mouth, and he began pissing into Zoe. The taste exploded on her tongue, and after a surprised instant, she realized it satisfied some craving she hadn't known she had. Zoe started gulping down the warm piss, excited again. Creamy jism was dripping from her gash and it didn't take many strokes of her fingers against her oh-so-sensitive clit to bring herself off again. Dean was dry, but Zoe couldn't get enough of him. Coating a finger with the scalding lube dripping from her, she worked it into his ass to massage his prostate. She felt a new frisson of excitement and anticipation as he instantly went quivering rock-hard in her mouth. She was shocked when he pulled out of her grasp and stepped away, leaving her mouth gaping. Why was he stopping just when he was getting so nice and hard again? Zoe tried to focus on the words he was shaping with his mouth. "...are you deaf? Do you *want* Mrs. Jones to catch us like this?" Dean asked her again. "Zoe, is everything okay in there?" the librarian called, knocking on the door. "Did you hear the last bell ring?" God, the bus! Where had the time gone? "Thanks, Mrs. Jones! I guess I just lost track of time; I'll be right out!" What had she been thinking? She hadn't been thinking, Zoe realized. And there wasn't time for it now. She grabbed her underwear and made an attempt to wipe herself off -- oh God, that felt so good -- and tossed the soiled garment in the trashcan. It looked like she was making a habit of losing underwear in that building. Dean got a quick kiss goodbye as he was hopping into his pants, and then Zoe was flying out the door to the bus stop. Behind her, Dean hesitated, and then retrieved the abandoned underwear from the trashcan. He was painfully hard, desperate with desire, and mentally kicking himself for being so stupid. How could he have forced Zoe like that? Having gone all the way, how could he have stopped her when he did? Her aroma still filled the air, driving him wild. Dean brought her panties to his face and inhaled, then began licking and sucking the sodden fabric, driven to a frenzy by the feminine juices mixed with his own discharge. Unlike his solo sessions at home, no anal stimulation was required to drive the teen into a paroxysm of release that left him doubled over momentarily in pain as slime began geysering onto the wall beside the doorway. "Are you okay?" Mrs. Jones asked from the doorway, surprising him. As he looked up, her expression flashed rapidly from concern to disapproval to surprise. Her hands flew to her crotch, but not quickly enough to disguise the rapidly spreading wet spot there, and she fled. Dean rapidly finished dressing and likewise made a hurried departure, Zoe's underwear still in his possession. Zoe spent a largely sleepless night pondering how she'd reached her present situation. Whatever she'd actually said the previous afternoon, it was clear from the way she juiced up thinking about it that she'd gotten exactly what she wanted from Dean. Examined by any standard she'd have used in previous years, it was as good as rape, plain and simple. What happened after that seemed perverse and degrading, even now. The conundrum was, it was a perverse degradation she was looking forward to repeating. Zoe's mouth felt dry. Could the entire universe have swung so badly out of kilter without her noticing? She thought, then, about going to her parents -- or somebody -- and telling them what she knew. Zoe knew they'd freak out and yank her away from Hyde; probably to a reform school somewhere! And possibly she was just exaggerating matters in her own mind. Zoe resolved to wait, and look around with fresh eyes, and talk with Dean. She recalled him saying something about Mariah, but she'd been so wired with anger and desire that she'd never gotten the details. School the next day was a sobering eye-opener. It was as if Zoe had woken from a dream, but the dream was still going on around her. Nothing really seemed that different from the previous days, but now it felt twisted and unnatural. Claudia had a dreamy expression on her face when they met at the bus stop, and masturbated herself almost continuously on the ride to school. Zoe oozed sympathetic desire into her panties but forced herself to behave. Most of the boys drank heavily from their water bottles from the moment they boarded the bus, and not a few of the girls tracked every movement of those bottles with eager expressions. From the moment Zoe walked through the security gate and into the building, the smell of urine was everywhere, but it was a sweet, heady, intoxicating scent. She couldn't turn a corner without stumbling into another girl nursing from some boy's cock. In geography, they had a pop quiz. The silent scritch-scritch of pencils was broken by the sound of running water when Crystal suddenly wet herself, soaking her skirt and leaving a spreading puddle beneath her chair. It didn't seem to faze her, as she continued to stare at the quiz while chewing on her pencil eraser, or any of the other students. Ms. Anders looked up from the papers she was grading for only a moment. Second hour was complete chaos. Coach Gold was nowhere to be seen, and the junior girls milled about in the locker room, mostly naked. An argument about fisting evolved into an impromptu competition; Paige quickly volunteered to take measurements. Zoe changed into her bikini and went looking for the boys. She found them by the pool. The juniors, and what looked a few senior holdovers from the previous hour, clustered beside the diving boards. Nearly everybody was drinking copiously from several large coolers of TRAINCO's Gatorade equivalent. Zoe could hear Shefali saying "proprietary formula" in her mind. The blonde approached unnoticed, as everybody's attention was focused on the action on the deck. Most of the boys in the center of the crowd were naked. As she watched, Kevin stepped onto a short platform aligned with the end of the pool and fisted himself a few times. His erect cock looked huge. One of the other boys measured the distance from the ground to the root of his cock with a tape measure and called, "4 feet even!" before stepping back. Amid shouted encouragement and cheers, Kevin angled his penis and began to pee, lofting himself slightly to try and extend the arch of his golden stream. Zoe thought it went a shockingly long distance, although the commentary she heard as it was measured with a tape suggested it wasn't one of the best efforts of the morning. Zoe finally caught sight of Dean, thankfully near the rear of the crowd, and sidled over to tug on his arm. "Dean!" she whispered. He turned, chugging a drink, smiled at her, and wiped his mouth on an arm. "Zoe! Am I glad to see you!" He stepped with her slightly away from the others. "Are you okay?" Dean asked with concern. "I feel bad about yesterday. I mean, I know what I did wasn't really right." Zoe grimaced. "I think we both got what we wanted, Dean." A glance downward at the offending body part revealed he was partially erect and nearly ready to extend out of his briefs. She really wanted to stroke him, but refrained. "I wasn't thinking too clearly yesterday, either." She smiled her forgiveness at him. "Listen, what did Mariah tell you at lunch? I wasn't really listening yesterday," she sheepishly admitted. "Something about Spots," Dean said."There's something going on there, something hidden that only a few people know about. She can get us in the door." "Us, or you?" Zoe asked with a tinge of jealousy. "Us," he clarified. "Mariah specifically told me the invitation was for you, but that maybe you'd listen if it came from me instead of her." Zoe couldn't imagine how anything at Spots could account for what was happening around her -- but the offer was the only tangible lead she had. The question was, should she wait and try to learn more on her own, or go to somebody now? Coach Zegmet shouted, "855 milliliters -- a new record!" and his voice was drowned out by cheering boys. "Give the man a prize!" Zoe realized some of the others had noticed her. So had the coach. "You, girl! Get over here!" he ordered. She thought about running, but Dean held her back. "Don't make waves! Remember the invitation -- we don't want anybody wondering about you." Silently cursing her luck, Zoe walked onto the wet patio. She was acutely conscious of the many eyes and dicks pointed at her. "Girl," Coach Zegmet addressed her while slapping the lanky youth next to him on the back, "you are looking at the champion pisser of Hyde High! Why don't you show him a little respect and have a taste of what he's offering?" The request was clearly intended as an order, and the crowd cut off any chance of escape. She squatted, trying to stay out of the puddles, and sucked him into her mouth. He tasted different, but not bad. "Oh man," he exclaimed, growing hard, "she's got a stud; this feels fucking awesome!" He grabbed the back of her head and started fucking Zoe's face. The first stream of urine hit her back a minute later. It was quickly joined by others. Zoe couldn't see anything, but it felt as if a dozen or more of the boys were directing their piss across every inch of her body. She concentrated on the rigid rod between her lips, urging it to give her its milky seed. The inevitable conclusion to that quest arrived shortly, and Zoe's mouth filled with delicious gooey spunk. She savored the taste before swallowing, and let her benefactor pull away from her. An unexpected shove made her lose her balance. Zoe rolled to the ground, coming to rest on her back. The circle of boys began hosing down her previously dry breasts, and the irregular pressure of urine raining onto her crotch made her pant. Two of the senior boys knelt at either side of her so they could lift Zoe into a half-sitting position. The barrage stopped and Zoe looked up to see Kevin straddle her, penis dripping on her stomach, and heft a large laboratory jar nearly full of urine. "Coach said you needed to sample Tad's piss," he taunted her. From the corner of her eye, Zoe saw Dean standing in the front rank of onlookers. With a sense of betrayal, she realized he was urgently stroking his hard tool as he watched her degradation. Zoe had no further attention to spare. Kevin began pouring the urine on her face, while his accomplices held her head in place. The torrent was far stronger than the blonde could cope with, and she choked for air while simultaneously trying to swallow as much of the golden elixir as she could. Some part of her wanted it, but Zoe was furious at being forced this way. Then it was over. The boys simply left her lying there, soaked and streaked with semen, and the coach herded them off to the showers. Dean remained behind and offered her a hand up. "Dean," Zoe suggested, "I think there's too much going on here for us to handle. I think maybe we should tell somebody and try to get the school closed down." "Why?" he asked, clearly surprised. "We both know TRAINCO is a crock, but the school itself is great! You've written that yourself, many times. We could get into the internship program -- there's nothing like it anywhere in the country! We're getting the best high school education money can buy!" "Education!" screamed Zoe. "This is no education! Look at me -- what kind of life am I being prepared for? Am I going to intern in a brothel?!" She wiped a sticky rivulet from her eyebrow with a finger. Dean looked -- and fisted his erect organ, making the tip drip. "You look pretty hot to me!" Before she could explode, he added, "Kidding! Seriously, you're an investigative journalist, and a damn good one. Even if nobody but you, me, and Ms. Petersen knows it. We're a great team. Have confidence in yourself, Zoe; we can do this." Zoe wasn't so sure. The words were compelling, but did Dean have to stroke himself and look at her like that the entire time he was talking? Relenting, she pulled him towards her and he pushed the crotch of bikini bottoms aside, spearing her against the wall. The pounding of her back against the rough stucco and the delicious feel of Dean spreading her brought Zoe off quickly. He convulsed and filled her with a load of thick seed that seemed like it would never end, to the accompaniment of giggles and hushed whispers as members of the incoming sophomore swim class watched in awe. He really did have a big cock, she thought, watching it pull out of her. The other girls watched closely too, many of them apparently peeing themselves with excitement. She could wait a day, at least. She'd been patient this long. But no longer than she needed to, Zoe decided. For once leaving Dean to the eager tongues of the JV girls, she tugged her suit back in place and paced into the locker room. Disdaining the showers, she marched resolutely to the physics lab. Even by Hyde standards, the junior's disheveled appearance warranted second looks. Zoe flung open the door and stomped into the class, disrupting the lecture in progress. Mariah's puzzled expression shifted to a beatific smile when she realized the sopped and dripping girl covered in male spunk approaching her was Zoe. "8 PM," the junior stated tersely. "9", retorted the senior. She stroked a fingertip across the point of Zoe's breast, enjoying the way the blonde caught her breath. "The wait will be good for you. And, Zoe -- dress to kill; it *is* the Valentine's Dance, after all." "Fine." Zoe walked out the same way she'd entered, with a parting, "sorry for the interruption." Zoe walked into Spots that evening looking like a TRAINCO wet dream. A near-sighted spectator might be forgiven for thinking she was wearing her usual uniform, but that was far from the case. The pinstripe skirt was much too short, for one, barely longer than the uniform jacket. The white blouse was entirely absent. She wore her favorite red fuck-me heels. They happened to match the red lace half-bra that supported Zoe's breasts without covering her sensitive nipples, but the buttoned jacket covered most of her chest, and a tie consisting entirely of silver sequins obscured her cleavage. She wore red lace bikini panties, not too lacy, to catch any moisture; they weren't the thong that came with the bra, but Zoe had found the racier lingerie rubbed her tingling privates to the point of aroused distraction. Long dangly earrings reproduced the tie in miniature. She'd gone next door and allowed Claudia to apply mascara and eyeliner, in addition to vivid red lipstick. Privately, Zoe thought the spray glitter was complete overkill. She was *not* Britney Spears, for God's sake. The hair was bad enough, but Claudia had wanted to do Zoe's entire body. The older girl had thought it was hilarious when she sprayed her bare privates and Zoe had orgasmed on the spot. She'd flatly refused to use any more, and had wiped off what she could, but that wasn't enough. Payback would be a bitch, she vowed. Dean was dressed in much more subdued fashion, but Zoe really liked look of those tight slacks on him. She'd caressed him through the material on the drive over, leaving the outline of his engorged penis clearly visible. A little suffering for him would be good; she still hadn't entirely forgiven him for that morning. Zoe had wondered more than once what Mariah would wear, but was flabbergasted to see her dressed virtually identically to herself! The hair color was different, and there was no glitter in it -- damn Claudia, anyway -- but otherwise it was like looking at herself in a mirror. "Why, Zoe," the redhead exclaimed as she sashayed over, "we're wearing the same outfit -- how embarrassing!" She gave Dean a welcoming kiss, squeezing his cock as she brushed his lips with hers. Then Mariah repeated the process with Zoe, who shifted her hip to ward off the hand that quested briefly under her skirt. "Don't look too surprised; Paige isn't the only one who can hack computers. And I know where you like to shop." Mariah took up her position beside Dean so the two girls framed him like bookends, and urged them across the club. Zoe saw any number of knowing looks as people accepted the coordinated outfits as evidence of collusion. Well, she'd given up on fruitless denials weeks ago, anyway. They reached the mysterious door marked "Reserved for Private Parties Only," and Mariah pushed it open. The room grew suddenly quiet as the door closed, cutting off noise from outside. The click of Mariah setting the lock was easily audible. Zoe and Dean looked around curiously. The room was furnished like a cozy, if spacious, private study, and empty except for the three teenagers. The entire left-hand wall was a single mirror, making the room look twice as big as it was. "Come and have a drink," Mariah invited them, moving to a tray sitting on the desk. She handed two of the tall glasses to Dean and Zoe before picking up the last one for herself. "Cheers," the redhead toasted, "to good friends and better times." Zoe sipped her drink but stopped after the first taste. "What *is* this?" Mariah knocked back about a third of her glass. "Just the usual swill, but I spiked it with urine. I prefer it from girls as a mixer, because I think it has a fuller taste and more body. I made this myself; do you like it? Oh come on, Zoe, just try it."To be polite, Zoe took another sip. It actually wasn't that bad; it certainly tasted better than what she'd been forced to drink that morning, but perhaps it was just the ambiance. "Where's the rest of the party?" Dean asked. Mariah laughed lightly. "It's just us here tonight. I thought that would be more... intimate." Zoe pushed to the point of the meeting. "Then what is it you wanted to tell us?" "Tell you?" Mariah took another long drink. "I wasn't planning to tell you anything. I want to show you things." "What things? Where?" asked Zoe, suspiciously. There was no place to set down her glass without getting closer to Mariah, so she took another drink instead. Maybe it was an acquired taste; it did seem smoother. "Oh, Zoe," Mariah laughed again. "Someday the light will come on and you'll see it. Everything I want to show you is right here." Dean re-examined the room more thoughtfully as he finished his drink. There was nothing that looked noteworthy or out of place, and no filing cabinets or computers that might hold interesting information. "Is this a trick?" demanded Zoe. Mariah set down her empty glass and walked towards them again. Zoe, not wanting to be the odd person out, drained the remainder of her glass in a single swallow, but kept her focus on the other girl. "I think it's long past time we got to know each other. There's been friction in the past, and I know some of that is because I didn't recognize the relationship you two have." She looked compellingly at Zoe. "We can be friends, Zoe. Let's get to know each other, together, and learn to enjoy each other's company. I can show you some things; you can show me some things; we'll both have what we came for." Zoe nodded, and Dean followed her lead. "Good." Mariah's face wore the beautiful pixie smile that Zoe found so attractive. "Let's start with a simple little ice-breaker game." She turned to retrieve a deck of cards from the shelf beside the desk, and shuffled the deck twice. Fanning the cards in her hand, she held them out to them face-down. "Each of you, pick a card." They both complied with the harmless request, which incidentally drew them closer together. Mariah chose a card for herself. "What did you draw?" Zoe had the queen of hearts; Dean had drawn the five of spades; and Mariah revealed the two of clubs. "Zoe, you remember our mirror game, don't you?" Mariah brushed her own nipple casually, but the reminder was unnecessary. "Yes, why?" Dean looked a little confused, but Zoe had never really explained everything that had happened to her in that encounter. "We're going to play it again. Now Dean, you drew the middle card, so you get to be our mirror. Zoe and I are the images on each side of you; whatever one of us does, so does the other. We stop when you want to." Mariah tossed the cards on the desk, including the king of diamonds she had palmed. "I admit I stacked the deck this time," she giggled. "With the two of us looking so drop-dead gorgeous, how could art not imitate life?" She stepped to Dean's side, bracing herself on his arm, and planted a kiss on his cheek, one heel kicked back in the air. "Zoe!" The junior mimicked the pose, leaving some of her lipstick on his cheek. "Good girl! Now it's your turn!" encouraged Mariah. Zoe held onto his upper arm and pushed her butt out, legs straight, before pouting. Mariah pulled herself against Dean and slid her crotch down his leg until she squatted beside him. Duplicating that maneuver got Zoe a little excited, but she remembered she needed to stay in control. For her turn, she rose, took a step back, and unbuttoned her jacket. Looking faintly disappointed, Mariah mirrored her, but then removed the jacket entirely. Zoe shucked hers, and thought about what to do next. Dean was looking back and forth between them in obvious approval. The blonde discarded her bra; the lace made her itch anyway. Mariah was topless now also, except for the sequined tie. Zoe thought she looked so beautiful, and it excited her to realize she herself was equally hot. Mariah pulled on both nipples. Dirty pool, thought Zoe; her breasts tightened as she tugged her own stiff buds. "Don't I get anything out of this?" Dean asked. Zoe stepped in and planted a hand on his straining member, squeezing it through his pants. A moment later, Mariah's hand covered hers and squeezed again. Zoe could feel Dean's reaction. Mariah unfastened Dean's belt. How did she mirror that? Zoe wondered. She settled for an approximation, and popped the waist button before unzipping him. Zoe caught Mariah's approving nod, and in unison the two girls pulled his pants to the floor, freeing Dean's trembling penis. It looked good enough to eat, the tip already glistening. Zoe tried to remember whose turn it was. Hers, apparently; Mariah was waiting. She ran her tongue up his leg from knee to hip. Mariah followed but rose to suck at his nipple through his shirt. Zoe teased the other nipple before kissing him on the mouth, sliding her tongue out to meet his. She didn't like it so much when Mariah kissed him the same way, but fair was fair. Mariah placed Dean's hand under her skirt. Zoe couldn't see what happened, but obviously Dean knew. He reached for her and cupped her mound through her sodden panties, which made her whole body throb. Wanting more, Zoe tore away her underwear and pushed Dean's fingers into her creaming channel, riding him. A pleased Mariah was only too happy to mirror her. Dean's cock was pulsing precum down its head and his breathing was hoarse. Mariah removed Dean's fingers and lifted them to her mouth, licking and sucking them clean. Zoe didn't hesitate to follow the redhead's lead; the taste of her own juices excited her even more. Struck by inspiration, Zoe realized she knew where there were more juices to be had, and how she could foreclose the other girl. She knelt in front of Dean and sucked his cock deep into her mouth. Then she held him there, caressing him with her studded tongue. Take that, Mariah! Refusing to be stymied, the redhead crouched behind Dean. Spreading his buns, Mariah leaned forward and began spearing her tongue into his ass. The dual stimulation rapidly got to Dean and he erupted in Zoe's mouth. Neither girl relented, and finally he was forced to hop aside, shouting, "stop already!" The two girls looked at each other with heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips, and then Mariah leaned forward and licked a trace of jism from the corner of Zoe's mouth. They shared a sloppy kiss, with Zoe pushing some of Dean's creamy spend into Mariah's mouth, and sucking the spicy tang of his anus from Mariah's tongue. "My God, you two are insatiable!" Dean exclaimed, watching them in mingled disbelief and arousal. The girls shared sultry giggles. "You can shuffle this time," Mariah told him. He obediently collected the cards from the desktop and started shuffling them. "Were you actually planning to show us anything except a good time?" Zoe asked Mariah as she climbed to her feet. "Yes, but the showing is in the showing," the senior hinted mysteriously, and changed the subject. "Aaah," she complained, "I can't believe you like these shoes!" Mariah unfastened them and kicked them off her feet, wriggling her toes in pleasure. By mutual agreement, the girls shed their remaining garments before walking over to the desk. "Cut?" queried Dean. He slid the shuffled deck across the desk towards Zoe. She picked up the cards, and then tossed them into the wastebasket. "Not really. I want to be the mirror this time!" Neither of the other two was willing to disagree. "Won't this be a little more complicated?" Dean wanted to know. "Nothing personal," he added, but swung his cock back and forth for clarification. "Not as much as you might think," Mariah promised. She opened the door of one of the glass front bookshelves. The books themselves proved to be a false front, part of the door, and revealed several storage shelves. She quipped, "meet 'Woody,'" and extracted a dildo attached to a harness. It was perhaps slightly larger than Zoe's, ever so slightly S-shaped, and covered with hundreds of little 4 mm-long fingers. Opposite the base of the dildo, on the inside of the mounting plate, there was a rounded pad covered with more of the fingers. Stepping into the harness, Mariah pulled it up her legs until the mounting plate covered her sex, and snugged the straps above the curves of her hips. Dean pulled off his shirt and Zoe moved a few paces so she was positioned between the others. She looked back and forth between them, and Dean graciously offered, "ladies first." Mariah wasted no time before grabbing her "cock" at the base and pumping her hand up and down it. Her face wore an outrageously exaggerated expression of lust. Zoe and Dean both laughed, but he gamely played with himself. His meat began throbbing as he considered what he wanted to do to his sensuous girlfriend. Dean already knew he was going to be giving her a royal fucking, but he wanted her ready first. He bent to suck her erect nipple into his mouth, then increased the suction, drawing as much of her breast into his mouth as possible. Zoe gasped, and then squealed as Mariah directed her attention to the other breast. Her legs almost folded beneath her when Mariah began chewing gently on her inflamed nipple; Zoe was panting rapidly after Dean reciprocated. He straightened a few fingers and reached for her dripping gash. "Don't let her cum too quickly," admonished Mariah, so he modified his plan and cupped her crotch, then wiped a trail of glistening wetness up her tummy. "Whose side are you on?" Zoe moaned, as Mariah repeated the arousing caress. Past caring about rules in the face of her need, the blonde tried to finger herself, but Mariah intercepted her wrist too soon. "Damn," the redhead hissed, realizing she'd wasted her turn. Dean grabbed Zoe's other wrist, leaving her effectively immobilized."Building on Mariah's advice, Dean slowly touched the tip of his cock to Zoe's slit, pulling away when she rose on her toes and arched forward in a futile attempt to increase contact with it. Mariah smiled appreciatively at him, and Dean returned a grin. The redhead gracefully maneuvered her dildo through the same teasing contact. Mariah eyed the moisture running down the inside of Zoe's thighs and then slapped the blonde's ass as hard as she could. Zoe screamed and then swore. "That hurt!" She looked imploringly at Dean, who seemed mesmerized by the red handprint on her cheek. "Sorry," he shrugged, "those are the rules." Dean belted her with his off hand, but his greater strength evened things out. Zoe screamed again and writhed as though her ass was on fire. The erotic sight and powerful feeling of control made Dean's cock surge. Mariah's eyes were bright. Zoe wailed, "Dean!" making it sound like an accusation. It reminded him of who really deserved that kind of treatment. Releasing Zoe's wrist, Dean leaned across and jerked Mariah towards him. The roundhouse slap to her butt echoed in the room and caused her to stumble against Zoe momentarily. He nastily chuckled, "payback," and turned his ass towards the girls in pointed challenge. Zoe rubbed her painful buns and watched Mariah strike him back. The redhead didn't put as much force into the blow, but her nails left a trail of angry red scratches across Dean's right cheek. "Oops!" Mariah said, wearing her best waifish smile, when Dean whirled around in surprise. He was still fully erect and leaking, however, as he watched for Mariah's next move. She elected to turn and embrace Zoe. The flustered blonde wanted to scream with frustrated desire as Mariah's tongue invaded her mouth, her aching breast was squeezed and massaged, and the dildo pressed against her tummy. Mariah stepped back, a bit flushed herself, but Zoe was moaning softly and had her eyes closed. Slimy precum oozed from the tip of Dean's quivering rod at the sight of this hot girl-on-girl action. A minute later, after Dean somehow found the strength to break his own embrace with Zoe, he could barely think. Zoe's breathing was a rapid series of short moans. Her diaphragm glistened where his cock had been trapped between them. She opened her eyes, desire burning in them, and pleaded, "fuck me!" "Be careful," Mariah purred with delight. She was tight as a wire and burning up with arousal at the mind-fuck she was laying on them. It was obvious this wouldn't -- couldn't -- go on much longer. All Dean knew was that he needed to be inside Zoe. He lifted her by the waist and lowered her onto his raging erection. Her slippery hot channel enveloped him, and Dean almost dropped Zoe as she began wriggling in an effort to impale herself more fully on him. He could never describe where he found the self-control to lift the blonde back off again, or how he avoided her efforts to lock her legs around him. The entire length of his cock shone with Zoe's desire, and his weapon jerked in step with the pace of his speeding heart. Zoe practically attacked Mariah, slamming the dildo inside herself and then rocking her hips back and forth. Mariah stiff-armed her back off the dildo, a feat made possible only by the dildo's relatively shorter length and the fact that the two girls were the same height. The redhead laughed raggedly and tried to catch her breath. "I really like you, Zoe," she gasped, "so I'm going to give you what you want. Both of you." She tugged unexpectedly, sending Zoe stumbling to fall across the end of the couch. Zoe froze at the touch of the slippery dildo between her tender buns. She'd never had anything except a fingertip or that fork handle there! "Noooo," she protested, struggling. "Yes," insisted Mariah, who had all the advantages of position and leverage. She positioned the dildo against Zoe's rosebud and began pushing. The rounded end slid in slowly, coated in Zoe's own lubrication, one little soft rubber finger at a time. Mariah looked sideways at Dean, who was breathing heavily through his mouth but making no move to interfere. Growing impatient, she reached beneath the junior and flicked a fingernail sharply against her clit. Zoe squeaked and then grunted as two inches of the dildo suddenly disappeared into her tight back door. Mariah inexorably forced the remainder of the dildo into the screaming blonde until her own mound forced the mounting plate against Zoe's reddened ass. "Baby," the redhead admonished her victim. "I know you'll love this." She touched something, and the dildo -- no, vibrator -- came to life. It began rotating and flexing inside Zoe's colon, and powerful vibrations transmitted themselves from the little fingers to hundreds of points within her body. Zoe's last scream transmorphed into a rising squeal of pleasureful surprise. Mariah bit her lip as the fingers beneath the mounting pad transmitted equally strong sensations to the bare skin above her superheated cunt. Awkwardly spreading her legs, she wrapped her arms tightly around Zoe and rolled backwards. Zoe's squeal rose briefly higher and cut off with a gasp as the maneuver momentarily forced the vibrator slightly out of and then into her spasming chute. She realized she was lying on her back atop Mariah, on the couch. In a second, Dean was on top of her, thrusting himself wildly into her eagerly welcoming pussy. Zoe began orgasming violently and repeatedly, every part of her body energized with vivid erotic sensations. Dean's pounding forced her up and down on Mariah's vibrator, and his hot breath filled her mouth as they kissed. The hard points of Mariah's nipples rubbed against her back, and the redhead was working both of Zoe's nipples with dexterous and experienced fingers. At some point later, Zoe knew she felt the others jerk spasmodically, finding their own release, but she had no notion of time. Mariah had either switched off the vibrator or its batteries were dead. The three lay in an exhausted heap for some time, still penetrating Zoe, and too tired to move. Dean finally struggled free, disengaging with a wet plop as his softened and slimy dick pulled free from Zoe's grasping pussy. "God, I need to pee," he announced, looking for his pants. "It *is* your turn, if I recall," Mariah breathed from beside Zoe's ear. "And I don't believe Zoe has called the end of this game." Rebelliously, Zoe considered doing just that. But she was riding an endorphin high, and she remembered Dean's delicious taste. Zoe parted her lips in an invitation he did not hesitate to accept. She licked her cream from his organ before concentrating on keeping up with the heavy flow of tasty urine that flooded her mouth. It flowed rapidly down her throat, warming her insides, as Mariah's breath tickled the hairs behind her ear and a finger traced abstract designs in the sweat on her tummy. "Mirror!" reminded Mariah, after Zoe had finished cleaning Dean's cock. "Oh come on, Mariah," Zoe complained. "The game's over." She reached for Dean, who extended a helping hand to assist her in pulling free of the vibrator and standing up. The sensation from its withdrawal was reminiscent of pooping but distinctly different and more pleasureful. It left her ass feeling slightly greasy. "It's hardly fair to stop in the middle of a round," Mariah said, tossing her hair as she stood up too. Zoe looked down at the vibrator pointing at her. It was caked with her shit, especially closer to the head, as the fingers apparently did a good job of trapping the waste into which the vibrator had been rammed. "There is no way in hell I'm sucking on that," she flatly stated. Mariah had started loosening the straps. "It might grow on you," she said off-handedly. "But the point is," she continued as she stepped out of the harness, "that Dean wanted to pee, not have you blow him. So do I." She set the equipment aside and waited. It was fair, and Zoe remembered her fantasies. With conscious irony, she said, "I really like you, Mariah. So I'm going to give you what you want." The blonde sat down on the couch. "C'm'ere; I'm too tired to do anything but sit." Mariah stood in front of her, giving Zoe a moment to examine the bare pussy that was so much like her own. The redhead's labia protruded slightly more, she decided, but showed the two small rings on either side to good effect. She pressed her mouth to Mariah's skin, licking and tasting the moisture, and couldn't resist tweaking the other girl's clit with her stud. Zoe was pleased to feel Mariah jump slightly and exclaim, "I've got to have you do that again sometime soon! But not right now, please." The redhead started trickling, and Zoe homed in on it, opening her mouth as Mariah relaxed and a torrent of piss rushed at her. The technique was a little different, and Zoe missed a few splashes, but soon her belly was warmer and fuller. Mariah pulled her to her feet and kissed the errant droplets from her face and breasts. "What about me?" Zoe wondered, as she realized that she too had a full bladder. "Game's over," Mariah teased her with a smile. "But I'm thirsty and out of mixer. And I hear you're a pro at filling glasses!" They all laughed. Dean was only too happy to hand them to her, one at a time, and Zoe felt nothing but happiness as she stood naked in front of her boyfriend and one-time nemesis and three times filled a glass about half way with her warm urine. It had a dark golden color and a tantalizing smell. "It seems a shame to dilute it," Mariah said after inhaling deeply over her glass. "Then, 'bottoms up,'" Dean suggested, raising his glass to toast them. The threesome emptied their glasses in a single draught. Zoe asked Mariah, "is it your turn now?" Mariah smiled eagerly as she replied. "No, I think we'll do a little freestyle. But maybe you can start by burying that cute little tongue of yours in my pussy while Dean regains his strength..."It was much later that evening that Zoe's lead finally developed, long after she had stopped worrying about it (or her curfew). She was, again, hovering on the brink of orgasm. Perched on hands and knees above Mariah, Zoe rocked back and forth against Dean's cock, which he was sawing in and out of her stuffed asshole with long, powerful strokes. Her breasts heaved in time with her rhythm, their sway enhanced by the weights that swung from clamps screwed to her aching nipples. Mariah worked her entire hand in and out of Zoe's stretched pussy in opposition to Dean's strokes; the depth of her penetration was limited only by the angle of her wrist. It was all painful, or had been at one time, but now all of it was wildly arousing stimulation that made her drip and want to cum in the worst way. Mariah had showed her that. Zoe looked down again, mind floating in a haze, and poked at Mariah with the needle she held. It was so cool the way the other girl's body jerked when the point went into the delicate skin of her pussy, but Mariah was soaking wet too. Dean spasmed and went still, unloading his spunk into her ass in a continuous stream that burned inside her and soon overflowed onto Mariah's face. Zoe took the moment to aim carefully and stab the needle into Mariah's clit, amused at the swell of girl-juice and trembling it produced. It took several moments more for her to realize Mariah was still shaking, even after the needle was removed. Literal froth was emerging from Mariah, and Zoe began to be concerned. She clambered aside and looked at the redhead, who looked like she was convulsing. "...ohmygodohmygodohmygod," Mariah moaned, nearly incoherently. "Can't you smell it?" she asked brokenly, looking blankly through Zoe, before starting to shudder and pant again. "I think she's really sick," Dean whispered in horror. Zoe started looking around the room in panic, trying to restart her brain. "What do we do?" Principal Edwards burst through the door, with the Spots bartender right on his heels. Zoe had let herself forget where she was. "It looks like anaphylactic shock -- Hank, get an EpiPen!" The other man disappeared, and Edwards looked at them. "She'll be okay, but you kids need to get out of here." When they hesitated, he added, "now!" Shocked, Zoe grabbed her ID, jacket and skirt from the pile on the floor, and pressed them against her chest, relieving the strain from the dangling weights. She scampered after Dean, who had only his pants. Holding the clothing in front of herself, in a sudden fit of modesty, she stood in the darkened and deserted main room and looked at Dean as Hank ran back into the event room. "It's lucky they got here so quickly," Dean said with relief. "But how?" Zoe felt her mind starting to re-engage as she fumbled one-handed with the nipple clamps. "Eyes are watching," she whispered. "That's what she was trying to tell us!" She looked about, instantly guessing the significance of the sliver of light around the ajar office door to the left. Zoe padded silently towards the door, shrugging on her jacket as she went. Dean caught up with her, tucking away his still-rigid organ and fastening his pants, as Zoe peered through the door. Awed, they walked in and looked through the wall. Hank was kneeling next to Mariah, who was resting quietly, and Mr. Edwards was talking animatedly on his phone. Dean drew her attention to the monitors on their left; obviously there were hidden cameras present too. Looking quickly about, Zoe noticed a leather CD case sitting on the corner of the office desk, underneath a folded section of newspaper. She picked it up and found it already unzipped. There were several discs in it, but they were all unlabeled. She zipped the case closed again and folded it inside her miniskirt, bundling it against herself inside her jacket. "Zoe!" Dean hissed quietly, pointing when he had her attention. Mariah had been moved to the couch, and Hank looked like he was about to exit the room. They raced to the door and beat him by a comfortable margin. "Hank," Zoe asked, trying to disguise any lack of breath, "what's wrong with Mariah? Can we see her?" "She'll be fine, Zoe," he replied comfortingly. She was flattered he remembered her name, until she recalled he'd probably been watching her all night. "You and Dean should just go on home. If you left anything, just come by for it tomorrow, okay? Mariah's resting and Mr. Edwards has called her mother to come and pick her up. Don't worry about her. Now don't trip on anything!" He steadily and unswervingly herded them out the door, which locked behind them. "What time is it?" Zoe wondered. "My parents are going to kill me. And I need a shower." Dean smiled. "Your locker room, or mine?" In the end, it was neither; they skinny-dipped in the pool and shared a final aquatic fuck before dressing to go home. Dean gave Zoe a chaste kiss good-night. He held his very dirty hands ostentatiously behind him so nothing would get on her zipped-up hoodie. "I really apologize, Mr. and Mrs. Ryan," he repeated. "If only the spare hadn't been flat too, I would have had Zoe home on time. I hope you won't hold it against her." "No, these things happen, Dean," Ken replied. "We're happy that she's home safe and sound. Drive safe, and get that other tire fixed!" He closed the door and Zoe bounced off to her bedroom. Husband and wife watched out the window until Dean drove away. "I always knew she'd get that boy if she'd just be herself," Becky beamed at Ken. "You don't need to be a slut to get attention." "But it helps," he retorted. Zoe quietly locked her bedroom door and kicked off her flip-flops. She unzipped the hoodie and extracted the CD case, which she dropped on the bed. The hoodie and sweatpants were thrown in the closet, leaving Zoe clad only in a cotton bikini. She padded to her bathroom to use the toilet. Zoe removed her underwear, noting the crotch of the panties was soiled. Squatting over the seat, she grunted and released streams of Dean's semen from her cunt and ass. The teen collected a few stray leaks with her fingers and licked them clean while she peed, then sucked on her underwear until it was merely damp. Zoe plopped on the bed and considered the CD case. It made the most sense for the discs to be DVDs, rather than CDs. She leaned over and turned on her TV, muted the sound, and hit the eject button on the integrated DVD player. Zoe dropped in the first disc from the case, hit "Play," and leaned back to watch. There was no menu; after a pause, "SoWet Productions Presents" appeared, followed a moment later by "Golden Schoolgirls." The picture changed abruptly to footage of Mariah. She was dressed like a Catholic schoolgirl and looked into the camera, a picture of naïve and conflicted innocence. She pressed her hands to her crotch and a rapidly growing dark spot appeared on the front of her plaid skirt. Zoe hit the fast-forward button. The images skipped rapidly, but it was still possible for the blonde to recognize several of her classmates. She popped the disc and inserted the next one. "Teen Ass Whores!" screamed the title. Zoe fast forwarded through it. The vignettes changed, but the cast was uniformly Hyde students, almost always including Mariah. She continued her review, skimming "Peeing for Pleasure," "Perverted Pain Sluts" (that one even featured Paige, a surprise), and several other titles with interest, stroking herself as she watched. The last disc was titled, "Slut Sisters," and Zoe had to watch it at normal speed. It was footage of her first three-way with Mariah and Dean that evening, and it made her hot from the moment it started. Zoe stared at the screen, working herself urgently as she relived each moment, and brought herself off to a close-up of Dean's cock surging in her mouth. When it ended with Mariah and herself sharing their sticky French kiss, Zoe hit the power button and stared at the blank screen. With these discs in hand, she had powerful leverage on TRAINCO. Zoe was confident she could shut Mr. Edwards down in a heartbeat. But her body felt empty and there was a craving in her tummy that left her mouth dry. She hadn't expected it at all, but she had a true lover in Dean and a kindred spirit in Mariah. If she exposed this operation, would they be able to stay together, or would she have to give up the sensations she'd just been learning to enjoy? Perhaps, Zoe wondered, there was a different way out of this? Mariah seemed to have been able to make things work out for her. Her thoughts were disturbed by a faint bumping from her parents' bedroom. Apparently they were having a good night, too. Zoe heard something like a faint "smack," but it was barely distinguishable and she decided she'd imagined it. She fell asleep with a faint smile, surrounded by DVDs. Zoe ditched Geography the next morning and headed straight for the Principal's office. She was surprised, and suspicious, to meet Mariah just exiting it. The redhead looked ethereal but dazed, giving Zoe the impression she was drifting in and out of contact with reality. One hand hovered distractedly at her breast, absently abusing the erect nipple, and a trickle of something ran down the inside of her leg. Zoe's thoughts were conflicted. Her breath caught at the frisson of excited memories and fantasies. She imagined slapping Mariah, making her feel pain, pissing on her; or was it the thought of how empty she felt, of how Mariah could fill her holes with her tongue, her fingers, a vibrator, or even her hand? She remembered watching herself in the video, looking as exciting and sexy as Mariah, making Dean -- and every other guy and girl who saw her -- cream themselves with the thought of having her. She moved closer. "Can you smell it?" Mariah asked breathlessly. She seemed to be focusing more clearly on Zoe. Smell what? Zoe wondered.For a second, she almost thought she did -- something slightly reminiscent of honey; sweet, compelling. The next statement came as a complete surprise. "I've got a co-op internship with TRAINCO now -- I get to work for them for the rest of the semester!" It was the last thing in the world Zoe had expected to hear. "But what about us?" she asked. With a smirk, Mariah responded, "there are plenty of other girls and boys here to play with." "I'm not like that!" protested Zoe, reflexively. "I think you are." Mariah lifted the blonde's skirt and groped her, finding Zoe's bare cunt exposed and flowering open in juicy excitement. She pinched Zoe's clit, and Zoe shuddered on the brink of orgasm, trapping Mariah's hand with her own. The pressure subsided. "Zoe, answer honestly. Do you want to go back to being the same girl that started this year?" Zoe didn't know how to answer. She was the same girl, right? The wallflower who dreamed of being beautiful and popular? But she'd done things she would never have done a few months ago, not always completely willingly. And had she not just been fantasizing about exactly those things? She thought again of the video, how hot they'd looked, how nearly identical... She opened her mouth to respond, and hesitated again, unsure what words might come. A dismissive voice broke the silence. "I think not." Judy Haskell was there, watching them, the door to Principal Edwards' office open behind her. Red lines marred the top of her blouse, as if blood from cuts on her breasts had stained them. Mariah leaned in and kissed Zoe, her tongue darting in to tease before she pulled away to join her mother. Zoe realized her hand remained where it had been bracing Mariah's, leaving her skirt awry and her sex exposed. Defiantly, she ran a finger slowly down her slit and transferred it to her mouth, maintaining eye contact with the older woman the entire time. The corner of the older woman's mouth ticked in what might have been the beginnings of a smile. "Do you smell it, Mom?" asked a distracted Mariah. The tick disappeared. "Let's get you to the shuttle, honey." Judy guided her daughter from the outer office and down the hallway. Zoe collected herself and remembered what she was there for. If there was some part of herself that she'd given up, she couldn't waste that sacrifice by stopping short now. She walked into the office and closed the door behind her. Principal Edwards was sitting behind his desk; he gazed at her in silent inquiry. Zoe read him the riot act. "You pervert! I know what you're doing at Spots! Filming pornography, and distributing it! That is so illegal! Not only is it pornography, you're doing it at a school! And it's obscene, it's filmed without knowledge or consent, it's..." Her energy level wound down as Paul failed to react. Paul disagreed calmly, ticking points off on his fingers. "It's a totally independent side business that helps TRAINCO offset the costs of running the school. The courts have found it isn't obscene. While it's true TRAINCO operates both Hyde High and Spots, they are separate businesses at separate locations that just happen to be adjacent. We have documentation showing all of the actors are of age and consented to filming." "What?!" shouted an outraged Zoe. "Don't you remember that admissions paperwork you signed? Surely you read it?" "Even if that's true, what about our ages?" Paul was smiling now. "But you're all legal -- I'd be shocked, simply *shocked* to find out anybody lied." Zoe sensed she was losing control of the argument. She probed in a different direction, guessing at connections. "You're telling me you're making these for profit, and you just sent Mariah off to some intern position? She's been in more of them than everybody else put together." Without thinking, she added, "and she's hotter than everybody else in them put together." Strangely, Paul's smile widened. "Well, perhaps. It's true she is extremely popular with the viewers. And was -- is -- extremely enthusiastic. But there are other valuable services only she can perform for us. And there are other girls." He leaned forward. "You, for example. You were very... intriguing... last night." Abruptly he stood, revealing he was not wearing trousers or underwear. A fascinated and repulsed Zoe could not resist studying his cock. It stood out horizontally from his groin, beet red, and was decorated with two bands of studs set into it below the head. A tight collar surrounding the root and scrotum held his balls away his body, and a few beads of blood dotted a welt that stretched most of the length of his organ. "Take it as a compliment. I am no longer easily intrigued." He started around the desk towards her. Zoe scrambled for the door, but found it wouldn't open. She started screaming, but he laughed and grabbed her. Edwards kissed her and Zoe bit his lip, but it didn't faze him at all. She tried scratching, but he was strong enough to control her wrists and march her back to his desk. He flung her across it, face down. Fearing what was coming, Zoe lashed out with her feet. She landed a glancing blow once, hearing him grunt, but then he was between her thighs and she was effectively helpless. He pushed her skirt up over her back and chuckled, "of course," when he found her bare. "You have been an exceptionally unruly and tiresome student," he observed, and lashed her behind with a short leather strap. Zoe screamed in pain and outrage, but he continued landing blows on her cheeks until Zoe was crying and certain the skin was being flayed from her body. His hand unexpectedly probed her slit, and Zoe was suddenly humiliated as they both recognized her level of arousal. Edwards resumed the lashings, but worked his fingers in her pussy until he saw Zoe's hips were pushing to meet his hand rather than flinching from the blows to her ass. Without warning, both hands grabbed her waist and the principal thrust his penis into Zoe's rosebud, mercilessly sheathing his entire length in her ass. Zoe shrieked in agony, a long hoarse howl that rasped at her throat, as the savage studs tore into her sensitive flesh and she experienced the worst pain of her life. The pain was so unbearable -- so unbearably good. She orgasmed. Apparently uncaring, Edwards withdrew his battering ram and plunged it all the way home again. He continued the cycle, picking up speed as Zoe's shit and blood lubricated him and her sphincter gaped open. Zoe gasped silently, unable to draw breath, as fire radiated out from her burning rectum, but her confused body could no longer distinguish the pain from pleasure and she came repeatedly. She lost control of her bladder and hot piss cascaded from her to rain on the floor. Feeling his long-awaited climax approaching, Edwards sawed into the teen one last time. His penis pulsed, grudgingly, into her slick rear channel. After a moment, he began peeing. The piss enema began filling Zoe, but eventually began leaking out around the softening penis. The sting of the urine in her raw wounds provided her with one last small climax, but her body was drained of energy. Still leaning into Zoe, Edwards picked up the phone on his desk and dialed an extension. "Shefali, I need you and a kit in my office, now. Pull Zoe Ryan's file." The nurse arrived promptly, taking in the scene as she deposited her case on the guest chair and opened it. "Principal Edwards, I feel I must repeat to you that you cannot go around treating these girls like disposable toys." She sounded resigned to the situation. Paul finally stood up and pulled out of Zoe's ass, releasing a surge of piss from her gaping hole. He started to walk around his desk, but Shefali stopped him and used a wipe to clean the worst of the shit, blood and slime from his penis. Zoe just lay on the desktop, unmoving, and too enervated to react or even feel shame in the nurse's presence. She saw Principal Edwards' cock hanging in front of her; amazingly, urine was still running from it. Zoe thought she could almost smell the liquid, but knew she craved it. She opened her mouth and he inserted his penis. Zoe felt his studs clicking against hers as she closed her mouth and began nursing. Shefali clucked her tongue as she began examining Zoe. "You have had a hard day today, Zoe. Just relax, keep drinking, and I will have you fixed up in no time." Her soothing hands were spreading cool gel across Zoe's butt, deadening pain but not sensation. More gel was spread across Zoe's labia and clitoris, and dabbed gently around the edges of her ravaged anus. "You certainly were very eager here, Principal Edwards." The nurse sighed. "Did you even think to ascertain whether Zoe has had anal sex before, much less this kind, before proceeding with this?" "Her boyfriend fucked her in the ass last night, and Mariah too, with a vibrator," Paul confirmed. He picked up his water bottle and took a long drink, nearly emptying it. Shefali poked delicately at Zoe again. "He was undecorated, I would think. Well, so." She rummaged in her medical case. "This would be much more easily handled were you to plan it in advance." "Many things could be handled more easily in advance," he said repressively. "Zoe," the nurse said, "I am afraid you have several scrapes and tears in your rectum. I can treat them, and it will not hurt, but I must insert a tool into you in order to do so. I do not want you to be startled or frightened. Do you understand me?" Zoe nodded slightly, but kept swallowing the continuing flow of warm urine. "Very good then; I will start," Shefali warned her. The teen felt something enter her ass, but it was thin and tickled more than anything else. A moment later, she felt soothing relief, which started from far up inside her intestine and then progressively flowed down to her anus. The pain was gone. "That will have removed the pain, I think.Now I must treat you, which I remind you is not a thing of which you should be afraid. There was a subtle spreading sensation, and Shefali braced a hand against Zoe's lower back as if she were pushing, but nothing else. The procedure repeated a few more times, leaving Zoe with a vague feeling of fullness in her ass. "Principal Edwards, I think that is enough now. I need to talk briefly with Zoe, and she cannot answer intelligibly with you in her mouth." Zoe was relieved, unsure of how much piss she had consumed; her stomach felt very full, although she enjoyed the feeling of warmth. The Principal pulled himself free -- still dribbling -- and accepted a ring from Shefali, which he clipped around his penis, cutting off the flow. Zoe, looking sideways at the nurse, was stunned to see her hand and part of her forearm were glistening. Surely all of that hadn't been in her ass? Belatedly realizing she'd spent all of this time lying on the desk with her exposed privates facing the doorway, Zoe started to push herself up, but Shefali gestured for her to stay in place and started wiping off her arm. "I am not quite yet done, Zoe, please relax and lie still. Now, I must repair a tear in your sphincter muscle which resulted from inadequate preparation on your part for penetration." She aimed a severe look at Principal Edwards, who shrugged it off and started donning his slacks. "This is the muscle which holds your anus closed when you are not eliminating, you understand? I must ask if you plan to continue engaging in anal intercourse or other activities that will result in the introduction of foreign objects into your rectum?" It was embarrassing to say so, but Zoe certainly wanted Dean that way again. "Yes," she rasped, finding her voice raw from screaming. Shefali noticed her pain. "Ah, silly me. This I should have considered also." She fished a small bottle out of her case and crouched in front of Zoe. "Open wide, please." When the blonde complied, the nurse sprayed the bottle into her mouth for a second. Zoe's throat felt instantly better, and she smiled her gratitude. "Now, your sphincter," continued Shefali. "The tear I will mend, better than new, but you must guide me regarding the tightness, the strength, you would desire." She recognized Zoe did not understand, and elaborated. "Some people like it very tight; like their partner to feel squeezed," she drew out the word. However, this limits the expansion of the muscle before you feel pain -- you are not hurt, mind you, but the sensation. Again, some people prefer this." Zoe couldn't imagine that was very common. "Others, who wish to insert large or irregular objects frequently" -- again, she glanced meaningfully at the Principal -- "opt for a looser, more accommodating muscle. This results in a sensation closer to that of normal vaginal intercourse." "What about, well, pooping?" Zoe had to ask. Shefali laughed. "Do not worry about that! I am not a maniac, to forget what is the primary purpose of your anus! I will not make it so tight you cannot eliminate, or so loose you must go about in diapers. Although, with a very loose muscle, you may be more prone to leakage if you experience diarrhea." That didn't sound attractive at all, Zoe thought. "I think I'd like something in the middle, like a normal person." "I will do that," the nurse promised. "Your boyfriend, his penis is of average size?" "He's pretty big," Zoe said, as Edwards silently mouthed "implant" from behind her. "Then I will see to it you both enjoy your body! Please lie still, now." She walked back around the desk behind Zoe. Zoe could hear her pulling on gloves, and then feel, vaguely, some cream or gel being spread around her crotch, from the top of her slit down past her anus and up the crack between her cheeks. Shefali was pushing and twisting her butt, but Zoe still couldn't feel what was happening. The nurse changed gloves again, humming lightly under her breath. Her fingers brushed Zoe's clit, poking at it gently, and -- thunk! -- that sounded like the stud gun! Zoe wanted to move but Shefali's fingers were still working around her delicate clitoris, and she was scared to jostle something at a bad moment. Shefali started wiping her all over again, but finally the moment came when she said, "I'm finished; you can sit up now, Zoe." The blonde rolled to her feet and immediately felt the fullness in her belly as she reached vertical. She pulled up her skirt to look at herself, and discovered the inside of it was soiled with blood and urine. Shefali saw it too. "Not near my hard work, thank you very much! Please remove your clothes, Zoe; I am afraid they are ruined, and we do not need them getting you infected." The skirt was a goner, and the bottom of her blouse was soaked, which meant she had to remove her jacket, which turned out to have spots around the lower edges anyway. Zoe was left standing in her bra, feeling goosebumps as Principal Edwards eyed her. "Aaah!" Shefali cried, "into the garbage with these! Principal Edwards, please make yourself useful and obtain a new set of clothing for this poor girl. Something with a shorter length would be useful for today, if it could be found." To Zoe's vast surprise, he went. The nurse smiled and confided, "men are like wild animals. If you are firm and show no fear, they believe you must know what you are doing." She held out a large cloth. "Here, clean yourself with this while I wipe down the desk." Zoe complied, but turned her attention back to her clit. She found a stud, matching the one in her tongue, piercing the hood of her clitoris. The lower ball actually brushed her clit, vibrating against it when she touched the stud. That felt nice, she decided. "Now, there is just one more thing that I must do for you, Zoe," Shefali said. "Do not make such a face at me -- I am doing this for your own good." "What?" Zoe asked, grumpily. "The medicine I have used on your rectum and anus is powerful and has no side-effects, but it is absorbed quickly into your bloodstream and filtered by your kidneys. You will excrete it in your urine over the next 12 hours, but it there is a chance it may damage your bladder if it is allowed to remain there for a significant period of time. Therefore, I will fit you with a catheter. This will allow your urine to drain away immediately, eliminating any possibility of harm. Also, it would not be a bad thing to drink large quantities of fluid, to provide extra flushing." "A catheter?" repeated Zoe. "I have to wear a bag for 12 hours?" "Oh no," Shefali reassured her. "You are a girl, and wear a skirt, and do not, I observe, wear undergarments. It is much more convenient to install a short tube and allow your urine just to fall to the ground. In fact, it is possible to forego the tube entirely, but many women may find it harder to direct their urine away from themselves." "If I have to do this, I want a tube." "Fine, have a seat on the desk, facing the chair. This won't take a moment!" Zoe complied, and Shefali settled herself in Principal Edwards' chair, between her legs. "First, I insert the tube," she explained, deftly matching action to words. "You can remove it easily, by just pulling it out, you see. But do not attempt to reinsert it afterwards, because we do not want you getting a urinary infection, do we? Now, nothing is happening yet, you see?" Zoe had wondered about that, and nodded. "That is because, unlike a standard catheter, I have not gone up past the sphincter muscle. Instead, we use a proprietary medication to paralyze the muscle for the required time." She brandished a syringe with a very long, very thin, flexible needle on it. Shefali expertly guided the point of the needle up the tube and out of sight. Zoe felt just the slightest twinge as the fluid was injected into her, and then the needle was removed, followed momentarily by a trickle of urine. "When the flow stops, you are done -- remove the tube and discard it. Until then, it would be best if you give your body a chance to recover, and do not engage in intercourse." Zoe felt self-conscious as the yellow drops sprinkled onto the floor, and the rate of flow was increasing. Shefali pushed back the chair and knelt, intercepting the steady stream rushing out of the tube with her opened mouth. After a minute, the flow had decreased to a tiny trickle and the nurse stood up. "There! Your muscle is asleep, and your bladder is emptied. I am done with you for today, Zoe! And I see Principal Edwards is here with some new clothing for you." The teen hopped down, spitefully dripping as much as she could on the office chair, and walked over to receive her uniform while maintaining what distance she could from the man. "Shefali," Zoe asked as she buttoned her blouse, "why is it that every time I see you for something, I end up with at least one thing more than I planned?" The nurse laughed as she latched her case and lifted it. "I call it 'customer service,' Zoe. Have a good day. And good day to you, Principal Edwards." She walked out of the office. Zoe knew as soon as she lifted the skirt that it was a duplicate of her miniskirt from the previous evening, rather than a regulation uniform skirt. She looked at the Principal as she stepped into it, taking care to avoid leaking on it. "Shefali said 'something short,'" he explained. "That's short and vaguely in keeping with the dress code. And you look damn good in it." "I'd look even better in heels," she suggested. "Don't push your luck -- you don't have a medical excuse for those." Zoe was straightening her new jacket when he asked, "see you at Spots? With Mariah gone, we have a big hole to fill." The junior hadn't forgiven him, and didn't trust him. "Don't count on it! I'm not your whore!" She stomped out of the office, past the waiting janitorial cart, wishing she was as certain as she sounded.Could the degradation and humiliation of the confrontation all have been for nothing? Every step Zoe took rubbed the stud against her clit, generating a pleasurable warmth and growing desire; and she was thirsty. By the time the school day ended, Zoe was in a fey mood. She was keyed up and, thanks to Shefali's prohibition, not in a position to do anything about it. Blowing Dean at lunch and draining him dry afterwards had been satisfying, but it did nothing to relieve the itchy craving she felt down below. The blonde was also a bit bemused to discover she was a celebrity on campus. Her miniskirt attracted instant envious attention from the other girls; a surprising number of them also were fascinated by her catheter. It was one thing to show Paige, before swim; her friend had examined Zoe closely with wide eyes and reached out to stroke the stud with a finger, before asking if it had hurt. She'd looked disappointed when Zoe admitted the procedure had been painless. (She'd omitted everything except "temporary medical necessity" when explaining why the catheter was needed in the first place.) It got worse during class, where she remained dressed and on display, folding towels while she tinkled beside the pool, while every other student in the class gawked at her. All of them apparently told all of their friends about her as soon as swim was over. After what felt like the millionth request to see or attempt to flip up her skirt, Zoe was reduced to brusque "no" or even "get your own" responses. Plenty of people got to see anyway, because she'd realized early on that she needed to pull her skirt up around her waist every time she sat down to avoid soaking it. Judging by the unguarded feverish speculation Zoe overheard over locker banks between classes, when the speakers didn't realize she was present, there wasn't a soul on campus who didn't know the key facts by mid-afternoon: Mariah, Zoe, and Dean had been together privately at Spots; Mariah was gone; Zoe had been in a long private interview with Principal Edwards; she'd been wearing her "Z-skirt" when it concluded. The accompanying speculations generally were either amusing or alarming. Great, I even have a fashion named after me, she thought with annoyance. Can't a girl just get laid in peace? It wasn't like she was the only person getting some. In fact, Zoe sulked, she probably was the only person *not* getting some! She masturbated in chemistry, ignoring the other students, but her self-induced orgasm brought only minor relief. Just out of frustration she teased two of the boys into letting her milk them after class. In yearbook, Ms. Petersen seemed transfixed by Zoe's dripping urine. Her sentences were unusually disorganized and sometimes stopped in mid-thought. Every time Zoe looked at her, her teacher was gazing at her catheter tube. Finally Hannah just walked up to Zoe, firmly pressed her legs open, and began sucking gently on the tube like a straw. This was too much even for the flighty Joanne, who had been leading a discussion about how to order the faculty pictures. Zoe's initial suggestion that they just alphabetize by name had met with a frosty reception. "Do you *have* to, like, flaunt yourself so much? Some of us are, like, trying to do real work. I don't know who woke up and, like, made you Principal Edwards' new pet. But, like, this is a team effort, and if you, like, don't want to be part of the team, well, like, screw you!" Hannah had to stand up and restore order to the classroom. So now Zoe stood by the school entrance, watching the flow of uniformed students heading for buses or home, and nursed her temper while she waited for Dean. She derived some sardonic amusement from the hand printed sign taped to the door of the administration building: "NO Z-SKIRTS FOR SALE!!! They do not comply with school dress code policy!" Dean met her with a quick embrace and a warm kiss. "Tough day, huh babe? Hey, I'm sorry again if I hurt you last night; I didn't realize anything was wrong." "No, it's not your fault; I enjoyed it too. I'm just a little... tender. Shefali says I'll be good as new by tomorrow, and I can't wait!" Zoe squeezed his hard cock in emphasis. The blonde hadn't sorted it out in her mind, but she'd omitted all mention of her rape and blamed everything on her anal deflowering the previous night, and the new piercing. "This isn't a problem for you, is it?" she asked him as they began walking towards Spots. "Not at all," Dean assured her. "I want my shoes back too! And it's never a problem to drive you home. You know I'd pick you up in the mornings too, if you wanted." "No, I like the bus," Zoe demurred. "It -- lets me keep an eye on things, I guess. But there's no rush getting home today, like this." She gestured at the yellow drops tinkling to the ground. "I'll just tell Mom and Dad I'm sleeping over at Claudia's or something." It took a while to find somebody who would let them in, but eventually Zoe collected a bag with her missing clothes of the previous evening, including her prized shoes. There was another short delay while she relieved Dean's full bladder, and then they were on their way. "I'm sorry about your seat," Zoe apologized, "I should have thought about this." She was peeing steadily into the upholstery of the passenger's seat and the aroma was pretty strong in the enclosed space. Dean shrugged. "Nah, don't worry. The way I figure, I'm indirectly responsible, too. Besides, the car's a beater, and the smell reminds me of you. I kinda like it." Her mother's car was already in the driveway, so Zoe headed straight next door and let herself in. She bounded up the stairs to Claudia's bedroom, and discovered her friend was not alone. Claudia was wearing a strap-on dildo and pounding into another girl lying on the edge of the bed with her feet in the air. Curious and a little jealous, Zoe moved for a better look and recognized Joanne! The cheerleader squeaked in surprise, muffled by a ball gag in her mouth. "Oh, hi Zoe, I didn't hear you come in," Claudia greeted her. She withdrew a bit, letting Zoe see the black rubber cock. It looked much wider and longer than the tool Mariah had used on her. It slammed back into the cheerleader hard enough to make her tits jiggle. "What do you think?" "I think Joanne thinks I'm not, like, a team player." "Maybe she doesn't know you well enough. She is a fucking pain in the ass, but I have to admit the bitch is starting to grow on me. She's still not fucking broken in yet," Claudia admitted, as she lifted Joanne's ankles a bit and shafted her a few more times in quick succession, quelling the other girl's feeble attempts to free herself. Zoe noticed Joanne wasn't using her hands for anything although they didn't appear to be restrained in any way. "Hey, grab that fucking butt plug, will you?" Zoe followed Claudia's nod and saw it sitting on the nightstand next to an open jar of lubricant. She picked it up and pressed it into the jar to pick up a big dollop of jelly on the tip. "May I?" asked Zoe. "I'd really love to show Joanne I can work on a team." Claudia pulled out and stood aside, still holding Joanne's kicking ankles. Zoe took a moment to look at Joanne's stretched cunt, comparing it unfavorably to Mariah's or her own, and focused on the girl's winking rosebud. She twisted the plug into it, creaming as she listened to Joanne's muffled screams, until the narrowed base neared the ring of muscle and the cheerleader's asshole sucked it in. "Thanks," Claudia said shortly as she lined up and started plowing the exposed cunt again. "No problem. Uh, I was wondering if I could stay the night?" asked Zoe. "Fucking bad timing," commented Claudia. "Joanne and I were planning some quality time together. Can't we do this another time?" "It's my catheter," Zoe explained. "I can't let me parents see me like this." There was a puddle forming on the wood floor beneath her. "Fuck. Look, there's a package of Depends in the fucking closet. You can fucking have them, okay?" What was Claudia doing with adult diapers? Zoe wasn't sure she wanted to know. She collected the package; they looked bigger than her skirt. "Quit stalling! You can fucking change at your house!" That was Claudia. "Thanks," Zoe said, and headed downstairs. She was a little pissed that Claudia didn't have more time for her, and a lot turned on, and even more pissed she couldn't do anything about it. She headed out the back door, figuring it would be easier to evade her mother's glance, and nearly tripped over Paige. Her friend was kneeling, totally naked, on the back porch with her hands clasped behind her neck and her chain swinging gently from her nipples; a small red heart pendant dangled from the center of the chain. From her position, she could see Zoe's obvious state of arousal clearly. "Were you and Claudia...?" Paige whispered with a look of betrayal on her face. Zoe instantly realized who Paige must have been scheming to hook up with these last few months. How ironic to find the two sisters had again fixated on the same person. Well, Paige didn't deserve to be kept in ignorance, and Claudia could clean up her own messes. "No, Paige," she said. "I just came to borrow some clothes." She hefted the diaper bag, displaying a sheepish grin. "Claudia's in her bedroom -- go on up." Zoe was able to avoid any further encounters before reaching the safety of her own room. After kicking off her shoes, she stood in the tub and released the finger she'd held over the end of the tube to block any betraying spills, feeling like a guy as she aimed the brief stream towards the drain. She quickly proceeded to unzip and remove her skirt, withdrew her catheter tube, and then pulled on one of the diapers. It felt bulky, although not uncomfortable, and wasn't really too noticeable after she'd pulled a pair of sweatpants over it.Zoe exchanged her jacket and blouse for a sweatshirt and settled down to try and distract herself with homework before dinner. Her reward for that dedication was a little free time to watch television with her parents after dinner. The shows were a bit dull, but it was surprisingly pleasant to engage in such a normal, routine activity. She might have stayed longer, but a whiff of urine made Zoe decide to cut the evening short. Alone in her room, she stripped off her sweats, but the diaper seemed to be doing okay. Zoe started channel surfing, following up on a mental itch that had been bothering her. Whatever was going on at Hyde High, it just *couldn't* be a simple porno operation. Aside from the dubious financial aspects, normal people just didn't act that way. Zoe looked at the schools in the shows she hopped past -- schools with superheroes, with rock stars, with vampires -- and none of them looked anything like hers. Of course, maybe that was just playing to the censors, but there wasn't any hint of the sort of activity that was common at Hyde. And it wasn't just a few people hiding in a sea of normalcy; Zoe was reminded that nobody at Hyde seemed to be behaving like the sort of school kids she remembered from the previous year. Moreover, the faculty, including Principal Edwards, seemed just as affected. When had she lost sight of that? Frustrated, she switched over to the DVD player and watched "Slut Sisters" again. Zoe was concerned about Shefali's instructions, so she settled for squeezing her thighs tightly together and wringing her nipples with her fingers. When had it become normal for her to have sex with boys? With girls? When had she decided that she not only would drink piss, but like it? It was ironic, really, that she, whose life had been impacted so profoundly by Amber's innocent cell phone topless photo, was now watching a graphic video of herself engaged in a three-way! Zoe couldn't resist sliding a hand into her diaper and tickling her needy clit until she jerked with release. Feeling calmer, Zoe mused on the situation as she licked her fingers clean. How could she get to the bottom of what was going on? She certainly didn't intend to let her rape at the hands of Principal Edwards be for nothing. Something of that attitude was still with Zoe the next morning. As Shefali had promised, she woke with damp diapers but a moderately full bladder. It felt good to pee normally again, and even better to masturbate in the shower, working herself vigorously both front and back while fantasizing the warm spray covering her came from Dean. It was with a feeling of contentment and control that Zoe realized, half-dressed, that she had no uniform skirt. One was downstairs in the bottom of the laundry hamper, and she'd lost the other yesterday. Screw it, she decided; if Principal Edwards wanted to make something of it, let him! The blonde pulled on the Z-skirt, admiring herself in the mirror, and decided it didn't look as good on her without the heels, but that was a fight for another day. Zoe realized she'd made an inspired choice by the time she made it to her locker before first period. In spite of the sign on the administration building, or perhaps because of it, the Z-skirt craze had spread. A surprisingly large number of girls had attempted personal modifications to their uniforms, and if some of the less successful attempts were turned away at the entrance, a number -- including Zoe herself -- were not. It was hard not to feel flattered. She felt considerably more anxiety when she met Paige in the locker room before swim. Zoe hadn't seen her since leaving Claudia's yesterday, and it didn't take a genius to guess that Paige couldn't have been happy with what she'd found. Surprisingly, her friend seemed far more cheerful -- in her usual offbeat fashion -- than Zoe expected. "Zoe, I just want to thank you for what you did yesterday," started Paige, with an earnest look on her face. "I mean, I was mad to start with, but then I realized it was all for the best." It wasn't hard for Zoe to look interested, and a little puzzled. "Oh?" "Well, I went up to Claudia's bedroom, like you said, and she was there fucking Joanne with this strap-on like there was no tomorrow. I guess you must have known she was there?" Zoe nodded, and Paige continued her story. "My spastic sister, can you believe it? At first I thought it was going to be just like with Kevin, but then Claudia called me over. I didn't want to go, but I'd spent all this time setting up this D&S thing with Claudia, getting her to the right mindset and all, and it was Valentine's Day, and I *was* standing there naked." "So I go over to them, and Claudia gets off the spazz, and tells me to eat her out! I wasn't going to do it, but then she pushed me onto my knees and shoved my face into Joanne's pussy. It smelled pretty good -- you know? -- and she said I'd better start licking." "I might have done it, but then that bitch started giggling! I pull back just a bit, and Claudia started whipping my butt with some strap or something. I don't think she was pulling her blows much, either." Paige turned slightly so Zoe could see the welts. "So I started licking her, and she was still giggling. I have *never* been so humiliated in my entire life!" Paige paused, running one hand along the chain between her nipples, eyes unfocused. "The thing was, after a little bit, hypergirl wasn't giggling and all of us were breathing kind of hard. I was thinking she was even going to cum, but then Claudia told me to stop. She took off the strap-on, and I thought she was going to make me eat her out, but no -- she tells me, 'Paige, I want to see your fist inside Joanne, right now!'" Paige's eyes were focused on Zoe now. "You should have seen the look on Joanne's face! I was juicing so bad I think I would have cum like a crazy girl if I could have touched myself!" "So I bunch up my fingers like so," Paige demonstrated, "and just slid them up inside her. She was so wet, and I guess that strap-on had opened her up a bit, it was like cutting warm butter. Even with that thing she had up her ass. What a slut!" Zoe felt her pussy contract, squeezing moisture into her panties. She pushed them down, providing access for her fingers, and waited for her friend to continue. "So then I start pumping her, and I'm really getting into it. It felt really good to pay her back for all the shit she's done to me, but I can see the fucking slut is really getting into it too. I know it has to be hurting -- my arm was really going into her -- but it was like she didn't care! And then Claudia sat right on her face, with her ass. I could hear the spazz start licking, and I know she was getting Claudia's asshole, 'cause I could see it wasn't her pussy." "Then Claudia just leaned back a bit more, and started pissing in my face. I swear we were all cumming so hard we couldn't see straight. All I could think about was how good it felt to fuck over Joanne, and how good it must have made Claudia feel to be doing those things to both of us, and how much I was getting off on all of it." "It made me realize this is what I am -- a piece of meat to be used by others. I don't have to worry about hang-ups or inhibitions! Let people do what they want; I enjoy it." With a shudder, she added, "I crave it. Let me thank you for showing me this, Zoe." She slid to her knees in front of Zoe and buried her face in the blonde's sopping cunt, licking eagerly. Zoe released her bladder, emptying it into Paige's hungry mouth, and then began riding the other girl's tongue. It felt good, but Zoe knew she needed a cock. The strangest part of the experience was after the end, when Paige was pulling on her bikini bottoms. "Zoe," she asked, "are you wearing a new perfume?" Lunch seemed like it would never come. Zoe forced herself to wait, knowing it wasn't fair to Dean to fuck some other guy just because she couldn't make it another few hours. She would have trotted across the cafeteria to their table, but it wouldn't have been in keeping with her hard-won image. When she caught sight of another girl nursing on Dean's cock, Zoe's first thought was rage. On reflection, however, Dean probably hadn't instigated it, and Nikki was no Mariah -- or Zoe. Like herself, Dean had needs; no harm there. But she was here now; Nikki could take a hike. Kevin laughed from an adjacent table when Zoe walked up and pushed Nikki aside, causing a mouthful of Dean's thick scum to spill on the other girl's blouse. The blonde felt her bladder clench, but she was starting to become accustomed to the occasional loss of control, and didn't hesitate to direct the stream of urine onto her vanquished rival. "Looks like you almost lost yourself a boyfriend, Slow-ee!" the senior taunted her, as Dean attempted to apologize. "Don't worry, I understand," Zoe reassured her boyfriend. She squeezed his tool tightly, and then began fondling his balls roughly, loving the way they bulged in his smooth tight sack, and delighted to see him leaking again already. She spared a mean look for Kevin. "Lost boyfriends? You should talk, Kevin -- I know where Joanne's getting it from, and it isn't you!" Enraged, Kevin leaped to his feet, knocking Jana on her butt. "Bitch! I'll show you what she's getting!" Zoe eyed his hard meat. Okay, so he had the largest cock on campus, but he really wasn't that much bigger than Dean. Just the same, she really did need a shafting, and she didn't want to waste any of Dean's juice. "Give it your best shot, but don't bother me too much -- I'm busy." She swallowed Dean, tasting a trace of his yummy piss before focusing on milking him to orgasm. Kevin was energetic, and his slaps warmed her ass, but really Zoe thought he wasn't enough. She needed to reach between her legs and flick the stud above her clit repeatedly as he pumped her from behind."It was not enough," she mused later. "No wonder Joanne had moved on to Claudia's strap-on."

ft ws mf rape oral ScFi fsolo ff+ m+f reluc mc mf+ rim sm anal Mf Ff ff Ff mf m+f fsolo msolo MF m+f+ fist mc nc cbt inc rape reluc scat sm tort viol ws anal oral rim toys ScFi

Part 5 of 7

Authors/Virtual_Scott/Prospects/Prospects5.txt

Ladytlj

Hunger Part 2

Zach came crashing through the front door, his big feet stomping through the house. "Dad! Emma! Where are you guys?" Zach was a sweet 21-year-old college kid in a man's body, but man what a body he had! At a little over 6 feet, he had already grown into his massive shoulders and arms. Needless to say, he was quite a ladies' man. And he was intelligent as well as good-looking. His black hair was long, and he usually tied it back. His blue eyes were fringed with super-long, almost feminine, eyelashes and framed with brooding eyebrows. His strong jaw belied his sweet nature, but his masculine poise was always evident in the way he carried himself. "Hey, Zach. What are you doing in town?" I asked excitedly, coming out of the kitchen. Zach attended college at Duke University where he studied engineering. As I gave a small yelp, I ran up to my sexy stepbrother and threw my slender arms around his neck. Zach wrapped his huge arms around me and pulled me to his rock-hard chest as I jumped up to hug him. I gave him a soft peck on his abrasive cheek and stepped back to look at him. I was a twenty-two-year-old petite brunette with curly hair and, I've been told, innocently sexy features. I've got chocolate brown eyes, a pert nose, and kissable lips. "Jarrett's going to be so happy to see you. Did anyone else come with you?" I asked, looking toward the front door to see if we had guests. Remembering the episode with Kevin (see part 1), I was sure that Zach was still dating Kevin's girlfriend and may have brought her home with him. "No. Cheron is still back on campus. Since it's spring break, we've decided to take our vacations separately to cool things down a bit between us." Cheron used to be Kevin's girlfriend, and he didn't appreciate Zach horning in on his action. Zach's dad, Jarrett, and I had first-hand knowledge of the problems brewing between Zach, Kevin, and Cheron. I didn't know Cheron all that well and had only partied with her twice. She was a beautiful petite black-Asian girl, and I could see why Zach was attracted to her. Her toffee-colored skin was unblemished, and she was a sexily built powerhouse. She seemed to be unaware of her innate sexiness. But you know what they say about still waters running deep. "Zach---Kevin was here last week looking for you." I looked into Zach's questioning eyes. I rushed on. "He had a gun. Jarrett and I decided that we'd tell you about what happened when you came home for a visit. God, Zach, he was so mad." Jarrett was Zach's father. When I looked at Zach, I realized that he was just a younger image of Jarrett and just as sexy. "Listen--Cheron and Kevin broke up long before I started seeing her." Zach told me, his eyebrows lowering, and thunderbolts coming from his stormy blue eyes. Then he realized that I told him that Kevin had a gun. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, his eyes softening to look into my brown ones, promising retribution on Kevin if I said yes. I trembled slightly as I turned away from him, my hand covering my eyes, pausing to run my hand through my soft, silky curls. My hunger for sex was welling up inside me, and I had to turn away for fear that he would see my desire. Last week was surely an eye-opening experience for my budding sexuality. "No. He didn't hurt us, he just scared us." I didn't want to tell him that, although the evening had started out badly, I got a sexual workout that still haunted my dreams. "I'll have a talk with him. I didn't realize that Cheron and Kevin hadn't officially broken it off," he said to himself, looking away and rubbing his hand over his chest. "Well, he doesn't think things are over between them. Please, Zach, be careful," I said worryingly, trying not to look at the motions of his hand. I know that my nipples were becoming sensitive, rubbing against the inside of my black lacy bra. Unconsciously, my arm came up to hide my body's reaction to his actions. The sound of the opening door brought Zach's and my eyes to see Jarrett standing there. "Son, hello there! What are you doing in town?" Jarrett asked as he came over to Zach to give him a hug. "I'm here over spring break. I leave on Saturday morning. Boy, do I need a break," Zach told them both, laughing, breaking the sexual tension between us. "Well, son, good to have you home. I'm going to get washed up." Jarrett looked over at me and asked, "Is dinner almost ready?" "Yes. We're having pizza." I was once again distracted from all the testosterone filling the room. My legs could hardly take me back to the kitchen because they felt so shaky. Later on that evening, as we said our good nights, I knew that it was going to be a long sleepless night. I decided to take a hot shower to encourage my body to slumber. Stepping inside the shower, feeling the hot water on my even hotter body, I realized that this was probably not a very good idea. The needle-like spray felt like magical tongues on my sensitive skin. I moaned as I slathered rich creamy soap over my hardened nipples; unbelievable soft breasts to trail down my tummy to the portal of my femininity. At this point, my cunt was throbbing, hungry for cock. Rinsing off, I quickly turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my overheated body. As I opened the door, there stood Zach. I looked up into his eyes, I knew what he was after, and a delicious shiver ran through me. I stepped back wordlessly, and Zach stepped into the bathroom with me, closed and locked the door. This was my stepbrother, for heaven's sake. But I knew that heaven had very little to do with this hunger. I thought to myself. Although he hadn't been my stepbrother for very long, in my mind I tried to think of him as a brother. I couldn't have a sexual relationship with him, could I? "Zach, please, let me out of here," I begged, but hoping against hope that he would disobey my pleas. "I need to talk to you," he said gruffly, his hot gaze encompassing my sweet-smelling body, scantily attired in a fluffy pink towel. "Fine, just let me go back to my room and throw a robe on," I said. "Oh no, I can't do that." He stepped closer to me, his hand coming up to cup the back of my head. My eyes closed in surrender. His fingers massaged this sensitive place until I was almost mad with desire for him. "I came back home because I've missed you. I thought about you, dreamed about you, desired you, and I needed to come home to tell you." As he was talking to me, seducing me, he was pulling me closer to his magnificently shaped body. I didn't realize that my towel had become untied, and it was now around my feet. I closed my eyes as his hands were now on my fragrant skin, and my arms were up around his neck. I had to hold on for fear that I, too, would be on the floor around his feet. I subconsciously rubbed my body on his, hoping to put out the fire but, of course, due to my actions, this was having just the opposite effect. His silky hair ran through my fingers as I began my exploration. His hair was loose and fell gently on his massive shoulders. My fingers trailed around the tip of his sensitive ears. My tongue flickered out to moisten my suddenly arid lips. I could see in his lust-filled gaze that this was his clue to continue on this sexual odyssey. "God, I want you." As his lips took possession of mine, he could taste acquiescence on my tongue. I realized that maybe I'd been too hasty in discounting Zach as a sexual partner. His lips were getting a response from me that I had withheld from my boyfriend, Aaron. Aaron and I had been having sex for about 6 months. Since Aaron was more experienced than I, he was not anywhere close to Zach on the fuck-o-meter. Even though I had had hot mating sessions with Aaron, I could tell that Zach would be my equal in a sexual contest. Zach's talented lips trailed down to the sensitive hollows of my neck. The flame that was lit earlier was now a raging inferno, and Zach had the hose to put out my fire. His erection pressed urgently against my stomach, and as Zach continued, I could feel it lengthening and growing even harder, searching out my feminine part to his masculine one. He lifted his head as he hurriedly removed his shirt, pulling the bottom of it from his pants. My eyes roved over his hairy chest, and my hands soon followed suit. His chest had just the right amount of hair as I delved into it, the soft pads of my fingers caressing his male nipples into sharp points. He gazed at me with hooded eyes and growled, "No more or it'll be over before we start." He grabbed my hands and gently placed them behind my back and held them in one of his large hands. This action bowed my body and thrust my breasts up as an offering to him. With his free hand, he caressed my breast, my nipple rock-hard in his soft palm. His strong fingers plucked my nipple to even greater hardness, if it was possible. His hot mouth fastened on my willing tip. His tongue flickered quickly over it, and as he began sucking, I tried not to moan my pleasure, but it was impossible. His mouth was just too, too talented.He continued with the other one, not willing that it should be left out. My chest rose and fell with my breath rushing in and out of my lungs. The pressure was gone from my breasts, and I opened my eyes to see him removing his jeans. It vaguely registered that he wasn't wearing underwear. He grasped my hips and placed me on the bathroom sink. I gasped at the coolness of the countertop, but it couldn't ease the molten heat that emanated from my pussy. Zach knelt at the edge of the sink, and he put each of my legs on his shoulders. I hooked my legs at the ankles and urged him closer to my throbbing snatch. He tentatively burrowed his nose in my tender cleft, moving my pussy hairs away from the place that he most wanted to taste. His tongue laved my engorged clit. As he circled his tongue around my love button, I could feel the orgasmic tremors start. My hands grasped his hair, pulling him ever closer. My pussy refused to stay still as it began grinding on Zach's clever tongue. Zach's hands encouraged my hips in their motions. "OHHH Zach, please, oh...oh...I'm cummmming," I whimpered. His tongue continued its stroking, eking out every quivering orgasmic spasm that flowed through my body. As I quieted, Zach removed my legs and stood up. He reached down to grasp his cock to place it at the threshold of my steaming vagina. Once again, his hands grasped my hips to hold them in place as he began his earnest fucking of my twat. He slowly entered my creamy pussy and then plunged all the way to the hilt. His prick was so large that it made me feel like a virgin all over again. "Zach, you're too big, ohhhhhh, stop... stop...stop," I pleaded, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. The burning pain that I had first felt had begun to ease, and pleasure replaced the pain. My legs wrapped themselves around Zach's waist in order to feel every inch of Zach's cock. "Zach, don't stop, ohhhh pleassse don't sstttopp," I moaned savagely, my hips circling his magnificent prick. My hands reached up to hold onto Zach's shoulders, the only true stability I had in this world gone mad. The hungry heat that filled my cunt was raging out of control. "Zach, fuck me, harder, uhhhhhh...." I could sense my impending orgasm was almost upon me as Zach's pistoning cock probed even deeper. "Emma, baby, you are fucking fantastic. Your pussy is so hot," Zach moaned, the muscles in his back and arms stood out delineated by each ropy cord. "Take my cock, baby. Take it." His pumping escalated. "That's it, come with me, sweets." His masculine appeals sent my pussy to vibrating against his hard invading prick. My mouth open in a wordless scream had Zach putting his mouth over mine to capture each gasping orgasmic shudder filling my body with sexual gratification. I could feel Zach's boiling semen fill my hot cunt, splashing against my sensitive cervix. Zach wrapped me in his arms, almost to the point of pain with his strong squeezing. His head dropped to my shoulder, and I could feel his moist breath on my neck. Gathering his strength, he left me, bending over to pick my towel off the floor to hand it to me. "Zach....?" The rest of my question remained in the air. "Go to your room, and we'll talk about this tomorrow," he muttered, his back turned away from me, giving my gaze access to his gorgeous ass, giving "buns of steel" a whole new meaning. I hesitated, and he said, "Do it now, before I lose what little control I have left." I hurriedly left for my room and closed the door. As I sank down on my quilted bed, my mind whirled with so many thoughts that I thought it would explode. What now? Do I pursue my interest in Jarrett, or Zach? A sound from my walk-in closet alerted me to the fact that I wasn't alone. I turned my head and looked up and saw Jarrett coming closer to me. I realized that he had been waiting for me. Jarrett knelt by my bedside, and as I gazed at his handsome face, I knew that tonight wasn't over yet. I closed my eyes as Jarrett's face came closer. With parted lips, my mouth waited for the carnal kiss I knew was coming. Oh, god, how I love these two men. How can I justify my behavior? I'm a prisoner of sexual hunger, and they both know how to stoke the fire to a blazing inferno. I could feel my juicy pussy clench, waiting for, hungering for more male attention. Jarrett loosened my towel like he was unwrapping a precious present. "Emma, you have the most incredible body. My whole body is aching to fuck you." His gaze traveled down my exposed skin, setting it on fire. My nipples begged for attention, and he didn't disappoint them. His mouth came down and gave them the attention that they deserved. My body writhed with his ministration and the sparks that were arcing from the tips of my breasts to the very depths of my pussy. I hadn't realized that he only had a robe on, but now even that was gone. My hands trailed along his neck to his strong shoulders. This was definitely no body of a 41-year-old man. I could feel his masculine strength overpower my feminine will. But I have to admit that it wasn't all that hard for him to overcome. Jarrett covered my waiting, willing body. His hands gripped my hips, giving him complete access to my bubbling pussy, which I had conveniently given him access to by spreading my legs. He groaned as he completely seated himself in my cunt. "God, you are so wet for me." I didn't tell him that my pussy juice was mixed with his son's cream, giving me that super wet pussy feeling. He waited until I seemed to be acclimated to his size and then began the dance that was created back in Adam and Eve's time. His hips took over from his mind, trying to fuck me deeper, harder, and faster than I have ever been fucked in my life. "Emma, Emma...." His mantra continued. My insides were liquefying, encouraging the orgasm that rolled through my love hole. Suddenly, I was there, gasping and moaning out the most awesome orgasmic pleasure that a man can give to a woman. I didn't think it was even possible to reach the pinnacle of pleasure that my pussy had reached tonight. Jarrett stiffened, his head back, the corded muscles in his neck stood out in relief. His face was so sexually stimulating that another orgasm ripped through my cunt. Hearing Jarrett's savage groan, I could feel his ejaculation pulsating against my cervix. Jarrett collapsed on me, rolling to the side, bringing me with him. My head was on his shoulder as my hand rested on his heaving chest. I could feel his heartbeat thunder through the tips of my sensitive fingertips. We rested until our bodies cooled down and heartbeats returned to normal. No other words were said, and really weren't needed as he gently and quietly slipped out of my bed, picking up his robe and silently closed the door behind him as I drifted off to a dreamless, satisfying sleep.

Part 2

Authors/Ladytlj/stories/hunger_part_2.txt

Ladytlj

Hunger Part 2

Zach came crashing through the front door, his big feet stomping through the house. "Dad! Emma! Where are you guys?" Zach was a sweet 21-year-old college kid in a man's body, but man, what a body he had! At a little over 6 feet, he had already grown into his massive shoulders and arms. Needless to say, he was quite a ladies' man. And he was intelligent as well as good-looking. His black hair was long, and he usually tied it back. His blue eyes were fringed with super-long, almost feminine, eyelashes and framed with brooding eyebrows. His strong jaw belied his sweet nature, but his masculine poise was always evident in the way he carried himself. "Hey, Zach. What are you doing in town?" I asked excitedly, coming out of the kitchen. Zach attended college at Duke University, where he studied engineering. As I gave a small yelp, I ran up to my sexy stepbrother and threw my slender arms around his neck. Zach wrapped his huge arms around me and pulled me to his rock-hard chest as I jumped up to hug him. I gave him a soft peck on his abrasive cheek and stepped back to look at him. I was a twenty-two-year-old petite brunette with curly hair and, I've been told, innocently sexy features. I've got chocolate brown eyes, a pert nose, and kissable lips. "Jarrett's going to be so happy to see you. Did anyone else come with you?" I asked, looking toward the front door to see if we had guests. Remembering the episode with Kevin (see part 1), I was sure that Zach was still dating Kevin's girlfriend and may have brought her home with him. "No. Cheron is still back on campus. Since it's spring break, we've decided to take our vacations separately to cool things down a bit between us." Cheron used to be Kevin's girlfriend, and he didn't appreciate Zach horning in on his action. Zach's dad, Jarrett, and I had first-hand knowledge of the problems brewing between Zach, Kevin, and Cheron. I didn't know Cheron all that well and had only partied with her twice. She was a beautiful petite black-Asian girl, and I could see why Zach was attracted to her. Her toffee-colored skin was unblemished, and she was a sexily built powerhouse. She seemed to be unaware of her innate sexiness. But you know what they say about still waters running deep. "Zach---Kevin was here last week looking for you." I looked into Zach's questioning eyes. I rushed on. "He had a gun. Jarrett and I decided that we'd tell you about what happened when you came home for a visit. God, Zach, he was so mad." Jarrett was Zach's father. When I looked at Zach, I realized that he was just a younger image of Jarrett and just as sexy. "Listen--Cheron and Kevin broke up long before I started seeing her," Zach told me, his eyebrows lowering, and thunderbolts coming from his stormy blue eyes. Then he realized that I told him that Kevin had a gun. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, his eyes softening to look into my brown ones, promising retribution on Kevin if I said yes. I trembled slightly as I turned away from him, my hand covering my eyes, pausing to run my hand through my soft, silky curls. My hunger for sex was welling up inside me, and I had to turn away for fear that he would see my desire. Last week was surely an eye-opening experience for my budding sexuality. "No. He didn't hurt us, he just scared us." I didn't want to tell him that, although the evening had started out badly, I got a sexual workout that still haunted my dreams. "I'll have a talk with him. I didn't realize that Cheron and Kevin hadn't officially broken it off," he said to himself, looking away and rubbing his hand over his chest. "Well, he doesn't think things are over between them. Please, Zach, be careful," I said worryingly, trying not to look at the motions of his hand. I know that my nipples were becoming sensitive, rubbing against the inside of my black lacy bra. Unconsciously, my arm came up to hide my body's reaction to his actions. The sound of the opening door brought Zach's and my eyes to see Jarrett standing there. "Son, hello there! What are you doing in town?" Jarrett asked as he came over to Zach to give him a hug. "I'm here over spring break. I leave on Saturday morning. Boy, do I need a break," Zach told them both, laughing, breaking the sexual tension between us. "Well, son, good to have you home. I'm going to get washed up." Jarrett looked over at me and asked, "Is dinner almost ready?" "Yes. We're having pizza." I was once again distracted from all the testosterone filling the room. My legs could hardly take me back to the kitchen because they felt so shaky. Later on that evening, as we said our good nights, I knew that it was going to be a long sleepless night. I decided to take a hot shower to encourage my body to slumber. Stepping inside the shower, feeling the hot water on my even hotter body, I realized that this was probably not a very good idea. The needle-like spray felt like magical tongues on my sensitive skin. I moaned as I slathered rich creamy soap over my hardened nipples; unbelievably soft breasts to trail down my tummy to the portal of my femininity. At this point, my cunt was throbbing, hungry for cock. Rinsing off, I quickly turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my overheated body. As I opened the door, there stood Zach. I looked up into his eyes, I knew what he was after, and a delicious shiver ran through me. I stepped back wordlessly, and Zach stepped into the bathroom with me, closed and locked the door. This was my stepbrother, for heaven's sake. But I knew that heaven had very little to do with this hunger. I thought to myself. Although he hadn't been my stepbrother for very long, in my mind I tried to think of him as a brother. I couldn't have a sexual relationship with him, could I? "Zach, please, let me out of here," I begged, but hoping against hope that he would disobey my pleas. "I need to talk to you," he said gruffly, his hot gaze encompassing my sweet-smelling body, scantily attired in a fluffy pink towel. "Fine, just let me go back to my room and throw a robe on," I said. "Oh no, I can't do that." He stepped closer to me, his hand coming up to cup the back of my head. My eyes closed in surrender. His fingers massaged this sensitive place until I was almost mad with desire for him. "I came back home because I've missed you. I thought about you, dreamed about you, desired you, and I needed to come home to tell you." As he was talking to me, seducing me, he was pulling me closer to his magnificently shaped body. I didn't realize that my towel had become untied, and it was now around my feet. I closed my eyes as his hands were now on my fragrant skin, and my arms were up around his neck. I had to hold on for fear that I, too, would be on the floor around his feet. I subconsciously rubbed my body on his, hoping to put out the fire, but, of course, due to my actions, this was having just the opposite effect. His silky hair ran through my fingers as I began my exploration. His hair was loose and fell gently on his massive shoulders. My fingers trailed around the tip of his sensitive ears. My tongue flickered out to moisten my suddenly arid lips. I could see in his lust-filled gaze that this was his clue to continue on this sexual odyssey. "God, I want you." As his lips took possession of mine, he could taste acquiescence on my tongue. I realized that maybe I'd been too hasty in discounting Zach as a sexual partner. His lips were getting a response from me that I had withheld from my boyfriend, Aaron. Aaron and I had been having sex for about 6 months. Since Aaron was more experienced than I, he was not anywhere close to Zach on the fuck-o-meter. Even though I had had hot mating sessions with Aaron, I could tell that Zach would be my equal in a sexual contest. Zach's talented lips trailed down to the sensitive hollows of my neck. The flame that was lit earlier was now a raging inferno, and Zach had the hose to put out my fire. His erection pressed urgently against my stomach, and as Zach continued, I could feel it lengthening and growing even harder, searching out my feminine part to his masculine one. He lifted his head as he hurriedly removed his shirt, pulling the bottom of it from his pants. My eyes roved over his hairy chest, and my hands soon followed suit. His chest had just the right amount of hair as I delved into it, the soft pads of my fingers caressing his male nipples into sharp points. He gazed at me with hooded eyes and growled, "No more or it'll be over before we start." He grabbed my hands and gently placed them behind my back and held them in one of his large hands. This action bowed my body and thrust my breasts up as an offering to him. With his free hand, he caressed my breast, my nipple rock-hard in his soft palm. His strong fingers plucked my nipple to even greater hardness, if it was possible. His hot mouth fastened on my willing tip. His tongue flickered quickly over it, and as he began sucking, I tried not to moan my pleasure, but it was impossible. His mouth was just too, too talented. He continued with the other one, not willing that it should be left out. My chest rose and fell with my breath rushing in and out of my lungs. The pressure was gone from my breasts, and I opened my eyes to see him removing his jeans. It vaguely registered that he wasn't wearing underwear. He grasped my hips and placed me on the bathroom sink. I gasped at the coolness of the countertop, but it couldn't ease the molten heat that emanated from my pussy. Zach knelt at the edge of the sink, and he put each of my legs on his shoulders. I hooked my legs at the ankles and urged him closer to my throbbing snatch. He tentatively burrowed his nose in my tender cleft, moving my pussy hairs away from the place that he most wanted to taste. His tongue laved my engorged clit.As he circled his tongue around my love button, I could feel the orgasmic tremors start. My hands grasped his hair, pulling him ever closer. My pussy refused to stay still as it began grinding on Zach's clever tongue. Zach's hands encouraged my hips in their motions. "OHHH Zach, please, oh...oh...I'm cumming," I whimpered. His tongue continued its stroking, eking out every quivering orgasmic spasm that flowed through my body. As I quieted, Zach removed my legs and stood up. He reached down to grasp his cock to place it at the threshold of my steaming vagina. Once again, his hands grasped my hips to hold them in place as he began his earnest fucking of my twat. He slowly entered my creamy pussy and then plunged all the way to the hilt. His prick was so large that it made me feel like a virgin all over again. "Zach, you're too big, ohhhhhh, stop...stop...stop," I pleaded, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. The burning pain that I had first felt had begun to ease, and pleasure replaced the pain. My legs wrapped themselves around Zach's waist in order to feel every inch of Zach's cock. "Zach, don't stop, ohhhh pleassse don't sstttopp," I moaned savagely, my hips circling his magnificent prick. My hands reached up to hold onto Zach's shoulders, the only true stability I had in this world gone mad. The hungry heat that filled my cunt was raging out of control. "Zach, fuck me, harder, uhhhhhh...." I could sense my impending orgasm was almost upon me as Zach's pistoning cock probed even deeper. "Emma, baby, you are fucking fantastic. Your pussy is so hot," Zach moaned, the muscles in his back and arms stood out delineated by each ropy cord. "Take my cock, baby. Take it." His pumping escalated. "That's it, come with me, sweets." His masculine appeals sent my pussy to vibrating against his hard invading prick. My mouth open in a wordless scream had Zach putting his mouth over mine to capture each gasping orgasmic shudder filling my body with sexual gratification. I could feel Zach's boiling semen fill my hot cunt, splashing against my sensitive cervix. Zach wrapped me in his arms, almost to the point of pain with his strong squeezing. His head dropped to my shoulder, and I could feel his moist breath on my neck. Gathering his strength, he left me, bending over to pick my towel off the floor to hand it to me. "Zach...?" The rest of my question remained in the air. "Go to your room, and we'll talk about this tomorrow," he muttered, his back turned away from me, giving my gaze access to his gorgeous ass, giving "buns of steel" a whole new meaning. I hesitated, and he said, "Do it now, before I lose what little control I have left." I hurriedly left for my room and closed the door. As I sank down on my quilted bed, my mind whirled with so many thoughts that I thought it would explode. What now? Do I pursue my interest in Jarrett, or Zach? A sound from my walk-in closet alerted me to the fact that I wasn't alone. I turned my head and looked up and saw Jarrett coming closer to me. I realized that he had been waiting for me. Jarrett knelt by my bedside, and as I gazed at his handsome face, I knew that tonight wasn't over yet. I closed my eyes as Jarrett's face came closer. With parted lips, my mouth waited for the carnal kiss I knew was coming. Oh, god, how I love these two men. How can I justify my behavior? I'm a prisoner of sexual hunger, and they both know how to stoke the fire to a blazing inferno. I could feel my juicy pussy clench, waiting for, hungering for more male attention. Jarrett loosened my towel like he was unwrapping a precious present. "Emma, you have the most incredible body. My whole body is aching to fuck you." His gaze traveled down my exposed skin, setting it on fire. My nipples begged for attention, and he didn't disappoint them. His mouth came down and gave them the attention that they deserved. My body writhed with his ministration, and the sparks that were arcing from the tips of my breasts to the very depths of my pussy. I hadn't realized that he only had a robe on, but now even that was gone. My hands trailed along his neck to his strong shoulders. This was definitely no body of a 41-year-old man. I could feel his masculine strength overpower my feminine will. But I have to admit that it wasn't all that hard for him to overcome. Jarrett covered my waiting, willing body. His hands gripped my hips, giving him complete access to my bubbling pussy, which I had conveniently given him access to by spreading my legs. He groaned as he completely seated himself in my cunt. "God, you are so wet for me." I didn't tell him that my pussy juice was mixed with his son's cream, giving me that super wet pussy feeling. He waited until I seemed to be acclimated to his size and then began the dance that was created back in Adam and Eve's time. His hips took over from his mind, trying to fuck me deeper, harder, and faster than I have ever been fucked in my life. "Emma, Emma...." His mantra continued. My insides were liquefying, encouraging the orgasm that rolled through my love hole. Suddenly, I was there, gasping and moaning out the most awesome orgasmic pleasure that a man can give to a woman. I didn't think it was even possible to reach the pinnacle of pleasure that my pussy had reached tonight. Jarrett stiffened, his head back, the corded muscles in his neck stood out in relief. His face was so sexually stimulating that another orgasm ripped through my cunt. Hearing Jarrett's savage groan, I could feel his ejaculation pulsating against my cervix. Jarrett collapsed on me, rolling to the side, bringing me with him. My head was on his shoulder as my hand rested on his heaving chest. I could feel his heartbeat thunder through the tips of my sensitive fingertips. We rested until our bodies cooled down, and heartbeats returned to normal. No other words were said, and really weren't needed as he gently and quietly slipped out of my bed, picking up his robe and silently closed the door behind him as I drifted off to a dreamless, satisfying sleep.

Part 2

Authors/Ladytlj/www/stories/hunger_part_2.txt

Elf Sternberg

Gravity

Z'Razzi tried not to look nervous as he boarded the Terran shuttlecraft. He had volunteered for this mission. It shouldn't have bothered him. Nobody yet had been hurt aboard the Freedom, but that didn't mean it wasn't a leaky, noisy, dangerous place to visit, much less live in for the next couple of months. He had expected to be nervous, but as the airlock closed, he found himself gripping the chair with knuckles tighter than he would have liked to admit. "Sir?" The voice came from Specialist Hunter, a physician and the person he would be seeing the most during his six-month rotation. "Are you okay?" He turned his head to see her. "I think so, Specialist Hunter. I am not accustomed to your transportation." "You can call me Doctor Hunter, Sir. Or just Doctor. Or Doc. How about just Shashi? 'Specialist Hunter' is way too formal, Specialist Zajhar." He was impressed by her pronunciation of his name. "Then you must call me Raz, Shashi." He immediately felt better using her chosen name. It would reduce the impossible formality that would exist between him and this person with whom he would be living, and from whom he would be enduring endless pokes, needles, and probes. On the other hand, it meant that he would be on more intimate terms with her. He was not prepared for that at all. "I am sorry." "For what?" she asked. "Being nervous? I'm scared to death, Raz. I've never been in space before, and now I'm about to do a six-month rotation on the Space Station as its chief medical officer. And I don't need to remind you that the Station is a million parts all built by the lowest bidder." Raz nodded, understanding perfectly what she meant. He understood that "the lowest bidder" still had to meet certain safety requirements, and that the lowest bidder in each and every case had run over budget anyway, but that didn't make him any more comfortable. "I believe we will survive." "I'm sure we will," she said. "The Russians did. Spacelab did, even if nobody wants to talk about it. I never did understand why we gave Mir the benefit of the doubt as the first manned space station. What was Spacelab?" "An experiment?" Raz offered. "They're all experimental," Shashi replied. "And they will be until people are born, and die of old age, in them. And probably not until a few generations after that will we get used to the idea that some people will live out their whole lives never visiting the Earth." She smiled. "I can't wait." "Nor can I," he admitted. "I wonder what will happen after that, though. What would be humanity's next evolutionary stage? Do you have one planned out? I don't think we do, on Pendor." "I don't think you can plan one out." "No? That strikes me as odd. We plan many things out-- our agricultural expectations, our educational plans, our construction schedules." "We can't plan those things out at the top levels," Shashi replied. "It just isn't in the nature of our governments to plan that far ahead, unless maybe for war. Planning for peace isn't something countries do. They just live with it when it happens." "I have come to understand that," Raz replied with a smile. "I can understand why your species hasn't yet begun to plan its future as a whole. Maybe it is because there are many futures available to you and you will choose more than one of them." "What about Pendor, then? Does it have a future?" Raz found himself surprised that he would be engaged in such a conversation so readily, but he was happy for the distraction. And it meant that at least one member of the crew accepted him as a fellow, if only for now, if only conditionally. He tried to answer the question as best he could. "It has a future, certainly. But if there is a plan for that future, I don't know of it. I haven't even seen the matter debated in the media and you would think that it would show up there." "Huh," Shashi commented. She tapped on the thin-screen monitor by her arm rest. "Hey, do you play chess?" "I do. Not very well." "Then we're even," she said. "Pull up a game. It's 'xboard' on the menu." They were thirty-one moves into the game when the shuttle docked with the station. Raz had actually found Shashi a formidable opponent, although the computer judged both of them only as fair players. Raz thanked the pilot, whose name he could not recall, and wriggled his way through the airlock and into the ISS Freedom. "Permission to come aboard?" he asked. "Permission granted, Specialist Zajhar," said a large block of a human mel. He held out his hand. "Commander York Lutz. This is my second, Brad Burien. It is an honor to have you." Zajhar seized the human's meaty paw in his own and shook with familiarity. He had gotten used to this interim ritual between privacy and intimacy. "I'm happy to be aboard." "And we're very honored to have you with us." Raz knew what he meant. The tensions between Pendor and Terra had become serious since the death of Donna Lewis Shardik. 'Death' wasn't the right word. 'Murder' was closer to the truth. Raz understood; he was here to help mend fences. Lutz continued, "Your equipment is being offloaded from the shuttle right now. I understand that the reactor you will be installing has a lifespan of thirty years, right?" "That is correct." "And is that based on usage patterns, or is that just the lifespan of a typical Pendorian fusion reactor?" "That's the lifespan regardless of usage. It has a maximum output that cannot be exceeded, and whether you use it or not, it will shut down in thirty years. You're free to disassemble it after that, if you wish. It will be somewhat radioactive, however; we recommend dropping it into the sun." Commander Lutz stroked at his chin. "Well, we'll get you settled in in just a moment." He turned his attention to the next person, Shashi, and performed much the same ritual. "Now that both of you on are board, Brad will show you to your bunk." "If you'll follow me?" said the other mel, a slightly more compact version of the commander. As they were led down the tube, the second pointed to various facilities-- communications stations, water stations, the hygiene closet, rescue facilities, emergency centers, and the like. Raz took careful note of the placards set in many places indicating where to go and what to do if there was an emergency. He had trained in Houston, of course, but there was a difference now that he was free of gravity. They left Shashi behind at her own quarters in a different module. He would have to find his way around with a reference to 'up' or 'down.' He felt that it presented a greater challenge than he had anticipated. And every time he thought about the thin metal shell that protected him from the hard vacuum of space his heart sped up with alarm. "This is your living space," Lt. Commander Burien said to Raz as they glided into a room near the center of the space station. "This is the US Habitation Module, your home for the next six months." He pointed to a dark, red flap of canvas over a scaffold-like frame. "You're there, next to Specialist Chang. He's in Research 3 right now." A grunt came from the curtained box besides the one Burien had indicated for Raz. "No I'm not. I'm trying to sleep!" A hand reached out under the curtain, undoing a few spaced snaps, and a head peaked out. "Hey, you're Specialist Zahjar!" "And you must be Specialist Chang," he observed. "Yossi," the man replied. "Please, call me Yossi." "I'm Raz, then." "I'm going back to sleep," Yossi replied, as if nothing interesting were happening outside. Burien, however, took a moment to rap on the metal of the frame. "Yoss, were you up all last night again?" A deep sigh came from behind the curtain. "Yes. I needed to stay up and watch the iridium metallurgic process myself." "That's what cameras and computers are for, Yoss. What if there's an emergency? Command needs you to be at full capacity when you're awake." Yossi stuck his head out of his compartment. "Yeah, I know. But I have an obligation..." "Which you can meet and still get enough sleep." Brad pushed Yossi's head back into the compartment in what Raz hoped was a playful gesture. Yossi grumbled something in a language Raz didn't recognize and rebuttoned his compartment. He found his own box, a compartment little larger than a coffin, with netted bags for his personal equipment, not that he had any other than the clothes on his back, the spare set, and the fusion system being unloaded from the Atlantis. The only consideration he had was his uPadd, this one custom-built with an incredible amount of memory, a rarity on Pendor where constant contact with AIs made such extravagance unnecessary. "Hygiene facilities?" he asked Burien. The officer indicated a small closet at the end of the cylindrical space with both a hose and a fan. "It keeps the water flowing in one direction."The same is true of the heads, which use airflow to keep everything in one place after you've gone. Everything is quite well-sealed here. As he spoke, a red ball about fifteen centimeters in diameter floated into the room. It hummed very gently as it slid by. In the front of it were three small glass ports, one of them clearly a light of some sort not now illuminated. "Ah, one of the maintenance robots," he said. "I was told about these, but they don't work on Earth so I didn't get to see one in operation." "Right," Burien said. "Drone, attention." The red ball stopped in midair. "Illuminate the exit." The light on the ball came on, and it sailed towards the hatchway Raz and Burien had come through. "Cease illumination. Resume previous task. End command." The light went off and the ball floated back into the sleeping chamber intent on something. "They'll respond to your orders if you need them. They make very useful flashlights, for one thing. And with their vacuum cleaner port keep the place dust-free." Raz nodded. He didn't need the tour right now; it had been a long flight from the Pendorian vessel to this one, and right now what he wanted most of all was sleep. "If you don't mind, Sir, I'd much rather just head to bed right now." "Be my guest. Orientation is in nine hours. You know the rest." Raz nodded as he hauled himself into the cubicle next to Yossi's. He was grateful Yossi didn't snore. Then he was out. Over the next four weeks he learned that the Space Station crew got along well because they wanted to as much as because they had to. These were people much like the crew of the Pendorian starships that had brought him here; they wanted to be in space and any personal difficulties would be put aside to make that happen. The two women on board were treated like members of the crew, although it was obvious to anyone who cared to observe that Cosmonaut Helenka was engaging in some serious off-duty recreation with Astronaut Burien. Shashi, on the other hand, fended off the attentions of the others in the station. "You're always so quiet," she said to him. "You never say a word. Not even 'ouch.'" "Do the others say ouch?" "Some do, some don't. Doesn't the daily draw hurt?" she asked. "It does, of course." He rubbed his arm where she had withdrawn the needle. "And shaving that patch is not something I would prefer to do." "And you have to do it every day." He nodded. She smiled and patted him on the muzzle. "I'm grateful that you decided to come on this mission, Raz. You make the mission more exciting. And it's rewarding to consider that very soon we will be able to ditch the solar panels." "Are they that troublesome?" he asked. "It seems to me like an excellent alternative power supply. It is the one used on Pendor." "Solar?" she asked. "I thought you guys used fusion." He shook his head. "All non-mobile power comes off a regionwide power grid. The grid is fed by solar panels in orbit around the sun." "How does the power get to the ground?" "Microwave beams aimed at several isolated reception stations along the rim wall of the outer ring." "I see..." she said, letting her thoughts trail off. "A defensive weapon?" "I can see that it could be used for that, although I would not have thought of it if you hadn't mentioned it. Thus far there is nothing to defend ourselves from, but that may change in the future. No, it will change. You will get into space, and when it is a commodity, there will be those among you who will make it dangerous." She sighed. "You're probably right. I can't help but wonder if Burien and Helenka will make a kind of detente' in their own right." She looked into his eyes. "You're so much better than that, Raz. You're not a walking bundle of testosterone." "No, but I am a walking bundle of a closely related molecule that serves the same purpose in my species." He grinned to cover up the nervousness he felt. He did not really want this conversation going in its current direction. "It just would not be proper to express it here. We must live with each other for another one hundred and fifty days. I would not want to jeopardize the smooth functioning of this station." "It would not jeopardize anything," she said, her voice dropping down below where microphones would probably pick it up. "It would just be another way to exercise, let off some steam, and relax." "I do not get that impression from the briefing. It was very clear on our responsibilities towards one another. And it was very clear that NASA is not interested in experiments of that nature." And although he was reluctant to admit it and show a kind of ignorance in front of a Terran, he was not familiar with such experiments himself. Although, he admitted to himself, if he had to schedule such experiments, Shashi would surely be the person to do them with. He was less inclined towards the other members of the crew. Yossi was the only other one to whom he was attracted, but even there he would not know how to proceed. Not that Yossi showed the slightest interest in males. "No, what it said was that NASA is not prepared to delve deeply into the private lives of the very professional and very human people it puts into space." Her hand touched his arm gently, in a manner completely other than the one she used when she was drawing blood. This time, it started his blood pumping faster. "Would you, could you, with a human?" His mind raced with the possible consequences of such a decision. He didn't know if he wanted to get this involved. He didn't know what would happen if he proved to be a failure. He found himself caught between the Pendorian reputation for sensuality and his own history of reluctance, between the Pendorian character of honesty and openness, and the developing rivalry between Terra and Pendor. He decided one last dodge. A simple one. "What if it doesn't work?" he asked. "If it doesn't work I won't have any hard feelings. Come on, Raz, you can't tell me that in the month you've been here you haven't learned how to jag off in complete silence?" He nodded, feeling the tips of his ears warm with the suggestion. "If you think that's hard," she said, "consider that I didn't get to bring a vibrator with me, I'm no good with my hands, and I haven't got a boyfriend up here." She floated closer to him. "I hope I'm not presuming too much when I hope that you're good with that tongue." "I would not know." She looked at him with a curious glance. "You've never gone down on a woman?" She quickly corrected herself. "Or any female?" Caught, he admitted, "I have never done anything with any woman, Shashi. Or any man." "How old are you?" she asked, surprised. "Forty-two years, Terran." "And you've never done anything with anyone?" She floated close to him, looking him over. "Why? Or, I mean, why not?" "The opportunity never really presented itself. I was an engineer, a... what do you call it? A 'geek.'" He paused. "And while that is no stigma where I am from, it meant to me that I spent most of my time on my interests. Having a relationship never moved up in my priorities." "Can I make it move up now?" she asked. He felt a tension across his shoulders. "Do I dare?" "Like I said, no hard feelings if we don't have fun. I'm trusting you not to be some crazed rapist, not that that's possible after all the head shrinkage they did at Houston." She smiled at him in a distinctly new way. "What do you say?" He reached out and touched her cheek with the furred back of his hand. She reacted with surprising warmth, tilting her head to make the contact more solid, closing her eyes as she did so. "I would like to try." She glanced down at her watch, then reached for a small pouch in one of the storage boxes. "Then come with me. I'd like to show you something." She floated up towards the hub, and then back towards Connective Node 1, then down to Pressurized Mating Adapter 3. "Remember the other part of your cargo? It was more living space." Where PMA3 had been was now a standard hatch, through which he could see a relatively huge open space that the two of them glided into. "This is the pressure-maintained tent that we got. The walls are made of the same stuff as our suits, only in more layers. Nobody's using it yet and it's meant as a rec-room of sorts, so let's recreate." She turned to him. "Now, while everybody else is asleep..." She pulled him close. "Have you ever kissed anyone, Raz?" "Just my mother," he admitted with a grin. "Oh, boy," she said with gentle exasperation, then kissed him lightly on the muzzle. His body reacted strangely to the touch, with impulses both wanting and scared, and he supposed that that was normal. He kissed her back; he seemed to know what to do, if only by applying what he had seen in Terran movies. He didn't know quite what to do when he felt her tongue against his mouth. He tried to return the favor as best he could, touching her tongue and lips delicately with his own. That worked, if her reaction was anything to judge. They floated together in the vast and empty recreation room. Her hands found the zipper of his jumpsuit. With an efficient zzip! she peeled his clothes off of him with the expediency of a starving person peeling a banana. He was left with just a pair of shorts covering his erection. "I appear to have let the cat out of the bag," she said, her hand reaching for his shorts. "Wait," he said. "I would like to see you naked, too." "Take those off, then. And hold my hand." She held out her hand and he took it. She unzipped her own suit and shrugged her way out of it until it hung on the one wrist that he held clasped in his own. "Take the other hand," she said. He reached for it and she broke the grip on the first. With her one free hand, she grabbed the small mysterious pouch out of the pocket, then pushed her clothes away from the two of them.She was a small woman of dark skin and black hair, what little there was of it. Like most spacers, she had chosen to wear a close-cropped skullcap up top and little more. She was blessed with a fine, full figure and surprisingly large breasts for her size. Raz wondered where she had hidden them; he would have never suspected such bounty from the clothes he had seen her in. Her face was average, with a sharp nose and wide, curious eyes. Only the relative bulkiness of her jaw and chin kept him from thinking her a truly beautiful woman. But his detached observations didn't prevent his cock from standing straight up. He could feel desire starting to burn in his chest, desire for this human woman with plans of her own. She pulled on the zipper of the pouch with her teeth, and a length of rope emerged, three meters of thin cord. "Tie it about your ankle," she directed. "I'll do mine, and we won't have to worry about drifting too far apart." He grinned as the two of them both set to the task at the same time, drifting apart as they did so. But she had been right; once done, they couldn't have drifted too far away from one another. She pulled herself to him, and in a moment Raz had his hands full of naked Earthwoman. She grinned up at him. "I intend to turn you into the best lover I've ever had." He thought about that. "Will that make me a good lover to others in the future?" "Trust me. The skills are transferable," she said, kissing his chest. "You smell good. And your fur reminds me of a cat I once lived with." "I like the way you say that," he whispered, getting hotter as he thought about it. "Most people say they own a cat or have a cat." "No, most cats own their humans," she said. Her hands were at his sides, touching him in ways he had never experienced before. She seemed to know exactly where to touch him, how to arouse him. They eased down his hips and across his skin to close about his cock. She had his shaft firmly in one hand while she steadied the two of them with the other. He groaned quietly as she stroked him. His hands were on her breasts, touching them, squeezing them softly with just his fingertips. She moaned herself as he drew a light touch across one nipple. It was almost more than he could bear, this woman giving herself to him in this manner. She pulled with one arm, pressing her body against his. The warm smell of her hair reminded him of home, but where he couldn't begin to think. "Raz," she whispered. "I want you to..." She giggled. "I don't suppose you'd know what I meant if I said 'eat me,' would you?" "I've read enough to know," he grinned. With both hands, he pushed her upwards until a thick patch of pubic hair lay before his eyes. With a gentle kiss, he probed inwards. She spread her legs for him. The smell was rich and wonderful, and the taste had an undeniably sweet tang to it. It wasn't until he'd already located her clitoris that he realized he was actually kissing a fem's sex; it hadn't occurred to him that this intimacy was actually his. "Oh, yes. Just lick me there," she whispered. "Just like that." He opened his mouth further and pressed against her flesh, against that tiny nub that rolled like an appleseed over the tip of his tongue with every flicker. Her legs tensed, and he felt them press against his shoulders. He needed his hands to keep her in place. The string holding them together floated just within his visual range. Her pubic hair was wet with fluids from both of them. Her body tensed, and her back arched against a gravity that was not there. She came with a moan that she suppressed by pressing her mouth against her forearm. "Oh, Raz. You're a natural! But then, I'm sensitive now. It's been too long since I had a lover." She descended to be eye-to-eye with him, hugged him, and kissed him, not at all reluctant to taste her own wetness on his muzzle and fur. "You feel so... good. The fur is wonderful. I wish I could sleep with you." "I talk in my sleep," he said. "I'm glad you liked that. I didn't know if I would do it right." He wanted to touch her, and her skin invited him to do so. He pressed his hands to her ass. She moaned, "Put yourself inside me." She lifted her legs as she did so, wrapping them around his thighs. With his free hand, he guided his cock into her. His fingers brushed against the warmth and wetness, a prelude to the enveloping feel of her body as he entered her. "That's it," she whispered. "Yes," he gasped. He knew this was supposed to feel good; he hadn't been prepared for how good. His heart pounded in his chest, his whole body yearned to merge with hers as they slid together. He would thrust his hips towards her, and with her legs, she would draw them back together. It took effort, but it was worth it! Shashi came again, this time muffling a cry against his shoulder. Her soft breasts crushed against his chest. His cock was close to bursting, but for some reason, his body was not ready to come. It was the effort of it, the strength it took. He finally came with his own, silent gasp of pleasure, his semen streaming into her willing body. They floated together then, unmoving. He noticed that they had drifted close to the wall but hadn't quite yet touched it. He closed his eyes and luxuriated in the warm feel of her against him, her hands on his shoulders, her buttocks against the thin fur of his palms. He listened to her breathing, slowing down as she came back to reality. He felt something touch his leg. At first, he thought it might be her, or their clothes that had been floating around, or maybe it was just the string. But then he heard a sound, a distinctly mechanical whine. And then another near his back, and a third near his head. He opened his eyes to see one of those red maintenance drones closing in on him, the custodial port open. The whine he heard was the vacuum cleaner. He let go of Shashi. "Huh?" she murmured softly. "Shashi! Help!" He was being attacked by six of the things! They were all around him, attaching themselves to him in all manner of places. "Shoo! Go away!" Shashi looked at him, the look in her eyes halfway between concern and outright laughter. She recovered enough to order, "Drone! Attention! Self-maintenance. Return to your cubicles." The drones stopped and slowly jetted towards the maintenance egress. "I guess they've never seen you naked. They must have been programmed to recognize you dressed or something. All this loose fur must need to be cleaned up." She giggled. "They didn't hurt you, did they?" "No, just embarrassed me." He brushed his fur down where the vacuum cleaners had pulled it up. "Next time we close the maintenance egress." She pulled on the string, and after a second of fumbling, they were again embracing. "If you want a next time." He warmed to her suggestion readily. This was an experiment worth repeating. "Do you want a next time?" "I'd like one." He smiled. He realized that she was going to complicate his life in ways he had definitely not planned and wasn't sure he wanted to encourage. But, he supposed, that was what made life exciting. "I would too."

Journal Entry 161 / 00110

Authors/Elf_Sternberg/Journal_Entry_00110_161_000_Gravity.txt

pointless

Angela's Present

Zoey couldn't help but be happy as she sat in her bed with a young and beautiful angel curled up beside her. Hell, beautiful wasn't even the right word to describe her after the weekend they'd just spent together. Zoey couldn't even begin to think of a word to fit her and the wonderful things they'd shared over the last few days. She actually had to resist the urge to wake the young woman with a kiss and remind herself that she'd earned her rest. No, Zoey would just have to sit there and enjoy the simple pleasure of gazing upon Angela's sleeping form until she awoke on her own. Zoey really did feel that she owed the young woman a lot. She'd given her so much over the last few days and asked for so little in return. She'd helped her reawaken feelings Zoey had almost given up for dead over the last year. She'd helped her to remember just how wonderful sex could be when you shared it with someone you cared for and loved, and she did it all without even once asking for Zoey to return the favor. Of course, Zoey had done just that with both pleasure and zeal, but she hadn't had to, and that in and of itself was something special and rare. To think that Zoey had actually passed this all up on so many occasions before was almost too much to bear. Sure, she'd had her reasons, some silly and some not so much, but after all that had happened between them, they all seemed so meaningless, so ridiculous that she'd actually apologized for them several times over the course of their weekend together, only to have the apologies either politely laughed off or completely ignored in favor of more shared pleasure that made Zoey completely forget anything and everything that might bother her. The reasons were valid, though. Well, some of them were. Like the fact that they worked together. That was going to be hard come Tuesday when the holiday was over and the restaurant they both worked at re-opened. Not in that awkward, one-night stand kind of a way, but still she had a feeling that she might have a hard time hiding the way she now felt towards her young friend. Not that it would be a big deal with anyone who counted since her boss just wasn't the type to care about who was fucking who as long as the customers were happy and no one was fucking around while they were on the clock. Even the more unimportant, but cattier members of the wait staff that might care would eventually get over it. They always did. There was also the fact that Zoey had a hard time thinking of Angela as anything but that cute, young woman who lived down the hall who was willing to watch her daughter for essentially pocket change. Technically, Angela was still that girl even now as she laid sleeping so peacefully in the nude next to Zoey, but in most ways she really wasn't. Sure, she still watched Jennifer on occasion, but there was one big difference: She was no longer a cute and seemingly innocent little fifteen-year-old, but instead, she was now a beautiful and very worldly nineteen-year-old who cursed like a sailor, smoked...

Authors/pointless/Angela's Present.txt

Hoop

Incarceration Ch.27

Zoe rolled over drowsily, vaguely aware that her arm had gone numb from being rested on for so long. She knew that she should be able to tell which of the many different possible drugs the redhead had administered, but trying to recall any particular piece of her knowledge whatsoever was futile. She struggled with vague conceptions of chemical structures and lists of effects, all things she had worked on herself not too long ago, but which were now inaccessible through the stupefying, pharmaceutical haze. The other girl came and stood by the bed, pulling Zoe's eyelid up with her thumb and checking the response of her pupils. Whatever expressions she had were concealed beneath her surgical mask, which made Zoe feel uneasy somehow. Apparently satisfied, the redhead returned to her chair. Zoe entertained vague thoughts of climbing out of her bed, but her limbs felt heavy as stone, the air outside the covers exaggeratedly chilly. She breathed deeply, trying and failing to bring clarity to her thoughts. The ceiling swam in and out of focus. Perhaps an hour later, the redhead left the room silently, returning with an additional person Zoe hadn't seen before. The redhead leaned in to speak something into the ear of the new arrival, and then departed once more. Zoe's brain was in slightly better shape now - enough to recognize a few elements of the new girl's outfit that identified her as a chemist. Probably Zoe's replacement. The girl was wearing polycarbonate safety glasses, her hair tied back in a sensible arrangement for doing practical work. The metal tips of a spatula and a pair of tweezers were visible in her shirt pocket, and the cuffs of a pair of nitrile gloves hung from her pocket. Careless, Zoe thought. Apparently there were to be more drugs. The girl pierced the foil lid of a sterilized bottle with a needle, drawing up a millilitre of its contents. She sat on the bed, halfway down, and took hold of Zoe's hand. "It's going in your upper arm," she said. "Just lie still, please." Her voice lacked the total confidence of Helen's tone, her physical presence not quite so unsettling as the masked, silent redhead. She looked to be about Zoe's age, if not younger, with limpid, blue eyes and pale, thin lips. She set the bottle down beside the bed, and poised the needle against Zoe's bicep. "You'll end up like us, you know..." Zoe murmured. It took a great deal of effort to speak. "I was... as well. I worked for her." "Sure you did," the girl said. Zoe could feel her eyes straining to focus on the label of the bottle: a hand-drawn structure on a torn scrap of paper, affixed with clear tape. Perhaps she could convince her. "The stuff you're giving me," she said. She had to pause for a couple of breaths, during which she felt a scratch of pain as the new needle sank into her. "The label's picture is four... no... five-methoxy," (it took all of her will not to slur her way through the lengthy name) "dimethyl tryptamine." Her head flopped back onto the pillow. Dredging up the name from the murky depths of memory had worn her out already. The girl, now most of the way through depressing the syringe plunger, showed a brief expression of consternation before regaining her composure. She glanced down at the bottle. "Okay, so you know chemistry," she said, "doesn't prove anything. Wouldn't be the first time Miss Stanford took someone from university. Nice try, though." From deciphering the label, Zoe knew what effects to expect from the new compound. She could already feel them; her fingers were twitching. The blanket around her seemed to melt into her skin as the boundary between her body and the rest of the world became indistinct. With a supreme effort of will, she managed to raise her head up and look at the girl. "I also know," she said, "that you'd have made it from my aldehyde... 5 grams... in a brown glass bottle..." "Wait, what?" Zoe thought that she might have laid down again, but the sensation of falling backwards never ceased. The shivering intensified. There was the vague sense of pressure on her shoulders, and a distant voice shouting to someone. "What did you just say? How..." Either the dose was stronger than it was supposed to be, or Zoe had drastically underestimated the compound's potency. She fell forever. She spoke with God. Claire sweltered in the warmth of the straitjacket wrapped around her. Her face was damp from sweat that had nowhere to evaporate to, from beneath her blindfold and the canvas hood covering her face. She struggled for breath through the small holes in the mask, her mouth filled with the plug of rubbery material held tightly in place by her gag. There was a significant amount of sticky moisture between her legs, where the two probes of Helen's device were drilling into her. Their intermittent pulsations came in time with the screams through her earphones, which felt as if they were being piped directly into her brain. She could only imagine what was happening to Laura, and that made it worse. She had held out at first - the early sounds had been Laura's breath hissed through clenched teeth in response to the pain. It had taken mere minutes to break her resolve, though, and now she was crying at the top of her lungs every time Helen did whatever it was she was doing. Her sobs, in between screams, were translated by the machine into a less intense thrumming of the smaller vibrators stuck to Claire's body. "Enjoying it, 314?" came Helen's voice. "523 is. Aren't you?" Laura's response was a short, loud cry. Then a few sobs. "Please stop," she was saying. Another cry. "No! You can't-" Yet another cry, even more frantic. It felt like the dildoes were trying to burrow into Claire's body. She shifted her hips as much as the outfit would allow her, about a quarter of an inch, and it didn't help at all. The gag silenced her moans. Her toes curled. It felt as if another climax might be coming on. She'd already lost count of them. The devices were too powerful, the sensations too intense. A more drawn-out cry had Claire clenching her thighs together, driving the thick probes somehow even deeper. It began to feel a lot more wet down there. The mask clung to her face with each rapid breath. Her body attempted to spasm, but, entirely immobilized, the result was something like a pervasive cramp as her restricted limbs fought uselessly against her bonds. There was a brief respite as Laura's screams ceased. There were the faint sounds of struggling and resistance, and then a retching noise. Laura whined, and the sound trailed off in a way that suggested she hadn't been able to close her mouth. She was panting. Claire assumed from the sounds that Helen had fitted her with an o-ring gag, which would make her unable to actually speak, but no less audible. "I think she was trying not to scream, for you," Helen's voice came again. "Can't have that, can we?" "Aaauuuh!" "What's that? You don't like it when I do that, 523?" "Haah." "Maybe I'll put it in your mouth instead then, now that you can't do anything about it." "Uuh!" There were more scuffling sounds. "Lick it!" "Haau- gmphh-" Wet noises came through the earphones. Whatever was happening, Laura seemed to be having some difficulty with it. After what felt like a minute of hearing her gagging, Laura choked for air, breathing heavily. She whimpered. There was just enough time for her to shriek briefly before the whole process was repeated, Laura gasping and coughing after the second ordeal was over. "You're doing very well, 523. I'm sure 314 is enjoying your efforts, too... I wonder what else I can do to you, though?" There was a pause for a few breaths, before Laura reacted to something. "Auuh. Uh-uh. Hleeeeh. Auh." "I think it would be interesting to try though, 523. I don't normally do this myself." "Auhh." "There's nothing to worry about, they're sterile. 271 was fine after her session, and you saw how many she had stuck in her by the end. Let's just try one or two. Maybe we can even turn them into proper piercings!" "Auuuh! Haah!" "Hold still, 523. Otherwise it's going to hurt a lot more." "AAAH!" Claire flinched at the sound of the screams, as the electronics diligently processed them into powerful vibrations in her nethers. She found herself crying out in unison, or at least trying to, with Laura. Straps creaked and seemed to tighten around her, she was still unable to move an inch. Her ears filled with the sounds of Laura's suffering as she lost herself to another brutally intense orgasm conjured from the transduced noise. The cries didn't abate, and hence the stimulation continued. Just as the pulsations deep within her cunt and anus started to become painful, the sensation would be eclipsed with another body-wracking wave of pleasure.The straitjacket was wet with her sweat now, her arms and chest slick. She was fairly sure that she was close to passing out, but the constant cries of the other girl were keeping her conscious. She found herself wishing that Laura would lose consciousness herself, or reach the point past which screaming no longer mattered to her. Anything that would stop the exhausting barrage to which her body was being subjected. There was no such luck, though. Laura was apparently remaining lucid throughout the entirety of her tortures, and Claire was going to suffer the consequences. Ten minutes later, she was not able to sense the individual climaxes anymore, her body gripped with constant, ecstatic tremors. She didn't know how long it had continued, but Laura's cries were definitely becoming weaker and more exhausted. It might have been as long as an hour by the time she was making weak little whimpers in response to Helen's torments, her vocal cords apparently no longer able to function. A little while after that, she went completely quiet. There were a few more faint noises, and then a low-pitched buzz, followed by a clunk. The earphones went completely silent, and the last sense connecting Claire to the outside world was cut off. The vibrators seemed to have stopped, too. With no ability to move, speak, or see or hear her surroundings, all she could do was wait. For all she knew, it could have already been hours - Claire had no reference points, no way to tell whether she was staying conscious all the time. She was totally depleted. She felt like she might sleep for a week. An attendant arrived in the cell and thrust a folded piece of paper towards Emma. She took it, and he leaned back against the door, watching her through his mask. "Looks like you've got a fan," he said. "One of the clients asked specifically for you, for a session. But you need to do what's on the sheet first." Emma unfolded it and scanned over the words quickly. They were a list of warm-up exercises: stretches, that sort of thing. "Miss Stanford takes your health very seriously," the attendant explained. "She says she doesn't want you to pull a muscle or sprain anything, during what you're about to do next, and to work through the whole sheet. She says you're one of the less cooperative ones, and that I can use this," he gestured significantly to his electric baton, "to make sure you play nice. So I suggest you get to it." "Where are we going after this?" she asked. "You don't need to know that right now," he said. "Get on with it." Emma sat down on the floor in accordance with the first entry on the list. She stretched her legs out in front of her and tried to reach her toes unsuccessfully. She managed it on the third attempt, feeling a twinge of pain in the back of her thigh as her fingertips just brushed her toes. She put her arm behind her head and began the second set of stretches. The attendant watched her throughout. "Maybe it'd be better if you stripped," he said. "You're going to be naked sooner or later." "I think I'm okay like this," she said, somehow not realizing that it had been an order, not a suggestion. "Let me rephrase. Take your fucking clothes off. Now." "But it doesn't say-" "NOW! If I'm going to be sent to watch you go through this whole fucking routine, I at least want something to look at! Off! Now now now now now!" He barked the word at her repeatedly while she took off the few clothes she had been wearing to start with: just a pair of panties and a white top. Emma bent over, trying to reach down to her toes in accord with the list's third entry. "Turn around while you do that one," he said. Emma didn't want to provoke him again. She shuddered as she turned her back to him and repeated the stretch, forced to give the attendant a full and comprehensive view. "God, you're a freak," he said. It wasn't the first time Emma had been called that, although the last time certainly wasn't recent. It still hurt. "I can't see why anyone's asking for you specifically," he continued. "DID I SAY YOU COULD STOP STRETCHING? DO IT AGAIN!" She carried on, her mind now inevitably straying to memories from her childhood, when her appearance had made her a frequent victim. "You look like a fucking ghost, or something," he said. "Like an alien. Like an experiment." She felt him directly behind her as she returned to standing, his voice close by. "Maybe you are," he said. "Did they grow you in a tank? In a lab somewhere? Because skin like that sure as hell ain't natural. Your mother bathe you in bleach when you were a baby or something? Huh?" Emma breathed deep, trying to swallow down the lump in her throat. She was supposed to have learned to deal with this by now. "I've heard them all before," she said quietly. "Oh, you have?" She reached down again. Seven more of these to go. The attendant was crouching down behind her now - she could see his masked face in between her legs. "Christ, even your pubes are white. Cunt's still nice and pink, though, eh?" Emma flinched at the feeling of clumsy fingers pawing at her. There was nothing she could do. "Miss Stanford says we're not allowed to touch you girls too much now, on account of the last clown who almost let one of you escape," he snarled. He withdrew his hand. "Says we're not allowed to help ourselves to her merchandise. Consider yourself lucky." Emma reached down again, and dry, coarse-skinned hands gripped around her torso. One of them made its way onto her breast and squeezed hard. He pulled her around to face him. "Look at those tits," he said. "You're a mutant. You're malformed. You call those nipples?" He grabbed one of them, hard, and twisted savagely. "The same fucking colour as the rest of you! It's just not right, is it? IS IT?" "N-no..." "Why would I even want to put my dick inside you, anyway? I might catch whatever it is you've got. Even if I could. Fucking clown, he had to go and ruin the one perk of having you girls to ourselves. What am I supposed to do about this?" he screamed, gesturing at the tent of fabric upon his crotch. "I've got this fucking hard-on now, even from looking at your disgusting body, and nowhere to put it!" Emma assumed it was a rhetorical question, and there was a long silence. The attendant reached down and unzipped his trousers. He pulled out his dick, the skin coarse and scaly like his hands. A ring of white spots dotted around the crown of the circumcised head, which was already smeared with precum. It seemed that his words hadn't reflected his true reaction to seeing Emma's naked body. "Now you carry on stretching like a good girl," he said. "You so much as dare to look at me while I'm jacking off, and I'll make sure you get a week in sens-dep." She gladly averted her eyes from him, completing the subset of exercises while trying not to consider what was going on behind her. His breathing was becoming faster, and he was muttering something under his breath. She sat down and parted her legs, reaching sideways towards her right foot. "You can turn back around for those ones," he said. She shuffled around, and made the mistake of glancing up at him ever so briefly. He released his penis from his death-grip, and propelled himself forward by slapping the wall behind him, hard. "You fucking looked at me!" he screamed. Emma had already closed her eyes reflexively, head hunched downwards. She felt hands grab and shake her by the shoulders. One of them was slightly sticky. "What did I tell you? Stupid whore!" "I didn't," she cried, "I didn't look!" "YOU DID!" "Please stop." "Fucking freak!" "You're hurting me!" He pushed her to the ground. She didn't dare to open her eyes, but she could feel that he'd taken his hands off her now. There was the sound of a few paces against the floor. A sigh. A rustle of fabric, and then the return of a rhythmic squelch, squelch noise. "Carry on," he said. She reached sideways again, keeping her eyes closed as tightly as possible: partly to avoid the chance she might accidentally look again, and partly to stop the tears. "You're not trying very hard," he said. "Spread your legs more." She adjusted her position a little. "WIDER!" Her hips ached with the effort. A single tear escaped, and ran down her cheek. "That's better." After a few dozen more stretches, she risked opening her eyes again, making sure to look down only at the floor. The list decreed that the next of her exercises were star-jumps, and the attendant made sure that she was facing him as she completed the set. He laughed crudely at the jiggling caused by her lack of supporting clothes. She worked through the rest of the sheet of instructions, trying not to scowl at the sounds of the attendant tugging at his prick, and his rasping breaths. He inhaled sharply, pushed himself off from the wall, and walked towards her. He had stopped masturbating, at least temporarily. When he spoke, his voice was strained. "Gonna finish now," he croaked. "Do those bending-over ones again." She bent over, legs straight, fingers outstretched towards her toes, trying not to think of the very real possibility that the attendant might simply decide to disobey his instructions and rape her. At least if he did, it didn't sound like it would take long. She shivered at the thought all the same. "Spread them," he said, "legs apart. Wider. Wider." She reached a separation of about four feet, fingertips against the floor. She felt his hand pushing down on her back. "Yeah. Just there. That's good." She gazed down at the floor, listening to him breathing through clenched teeth.The wet noises started again, and after another minute, he finished with a grunt. Warm, sticky fluid splashed against her buttocks. The man made another sound from his throat, and a second stream of ejaculate spattered across the small of her back. Some of the first load trickled downwards, finding its way to her inner thigh. Pearly white drops rolled down over her skin, leaving glistening trails. She felt like she could vomit. The attendant sighed deeply. "Mmm," he said, "not bad. Even though she won't let us fuck you girls, doesn't mean I can't still get some satisfaction." He paced around to stand by her head and took a handful of her hair in his fist. Not wanting to risk another outburst like before, she looked away. Although she couldn't see exactly what he was doing, she was fairly certain he was wiping his dick off on her hair. He let go, and a few wet strands fell back and became stuck to her cheek. She wanted to scream. She wanted so badly to grab the man's filthy prick and grip as hard as she could, and dig in with her nails. She imagined herself standing over him, foot pressing down on his neck while he choked and begged for mercy, and mourned the fact that the scenario could never happen. She returned to standing while the attendant put away his shrinking cock and wiped his hands off on one of the blankets on the floor. "Clean yourself off," he said. "If she finds out what happened, I'll be back for you. With some others. She can't watch over all of you all the time." Emma wiped the worst of the mess off with toilet paper and then stood with her back to the sink, splashing water against herself. She was already thoroughly miserable, and this was only the beginning. They hadn't even started whatever Helen had planned for her next. It could have been worse, she consoled herself. She peeled the strands of hair from her face and washed herself with soap and water as adequately as she could. The attendant seemed to be growing impatient. "Enough," he said. "Time to go. Can't have you being late for your appointment with The Gimp."

FF, MF, bd

Chapter 27

Authors/Hoop/Incarceration/27_Cocoon2.txt

Hoop

Incarceration Ch.18

Zoe looked up at the blank face mask of the attendant standing over her. "I want to get out," she said. A contemptuous laugh came from behind the mask. "Please," she said, "it wouldn't really be your fault, right? If you were taking me to her and I somehow got free?" "Not going to happen," he said. "What do you care, though? You just work here, right? All you seem to do is drag us from place to place." He didn't answer. "It's not right. You know it isn't right," she said. "Shut up." "You're just as bad as-" "Shut up!" the attendant dropped to his knees beside Zoe and grasped her face with his gloved hand, bringing his blank mask close. Zoe wondered how they could see through them. Perhaps it was like mirrored glass, or something. "You keep quiet, girl," he said, "unless you want me to make you quiet." They were both silent after that. Zoe had been taken aback at the sudden escalation of the attendant's temper. She decided she might try a different approach - some way to try and make a connection between them that she could use. "I'll suck your cock," she said. This time, the attendant's laughter was genuine. "Come on," she said. "I'm really good at it." It was a lie. Zoe had never had a cock in her mouth. Her four years of university had been considerably less debaucherous than many other girls' in that respect. "Is that so?" said the attendant. "Let me," said Zoe. "And then maybe, I don't know, perhaps you could accidentally neglect to do some handcuffs up all the way, or something?" She got up on her knees, and made her way over to the attendant, slightly awkwardly without being able to use her arms for balance. She put her chin to his thigh, and looked up at him from below. "Please," she said, "I bet you'd like it." "You'd better go and sit back down," he said, "or you'll regret it." "Come on," said Zoe. She moved her face closer to his crotch. The fabric of his trousers was tightening. She was disgusted at the thought of what she might end up doing, but made sure not to show it. She looked up at him again, and ran her tongue across her lip. "I want to," she said. "All that training Helen puts us through... I can't take any more of this girl-girl stuff. I want cock." "I find that hard to believe." "Try me," she said. The attendant paused awhile. Then he shrugged, and Zoe yelped as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her to her feet. "What the hell," he said, "it has been a while. And we've got an hour. Let's go someplace else, though." "...and there might be some accidentally-loose handcuffs?" Zoe ventured. "Don't push your luck," he said. "We'll see just how well you do suck cock first. Now shut up. We can't talk about this once we're outside." He pulled her out into the corridor, looking around conspiratorially before they made their way to the stairwell and descended three floors. He kept hold of her with one hand while he leaned into a storage cupboard, pulling out a roll of silver duct tape. She asked what it was for, and he didn't answer. After more shoving along corridors that looked less well-cleaned and maintained than the floors above, Zoe found herself in a bathroom illuminated by a single fluorescent strip light, the others apparently having burned out. The tiles on the floor and walls were covered with grime. Three sinks along one wall bore identical, green stains of lime scale beneath brass taps. Some kind of corrosion had crept under the glass of one mirror, and another had a cobweb of cracks across its surface. The attendant forced her down to her knees. The tiles were cold beneath them. He drew the electric baton from his belt, and pressed the prongs against Zoe's cheek. "You try to run now," he said, "and I'm going to use this on you until the battery's dead. Got it?" "But after..." "We'll see about afterwards. Now, show me what you can do." The attendant unbuckled his belt. He unfastened his trousers, and drew his zipper down. Apparently he was quite eager - after lowering his trousers a few inches, a tent of material sprang out, pointing at Zoe's face. Then he unbuttoned his boxer shorts, and produced his cock. It jutted out at an angle just above the horizontal, looking a little under six inches in length. With a thumb and forefinger, he rolled back the foreskin to reveal its purplish head. Zoe wrinkled her nose. There were little white spots at the crown of his penis. "What?" he said, "you got a problem with it?" "N-no," she said. "It's fine." "Good. Now get to it." She opened her mouth. She thought that not looking at it might make the ordeal slightly less horrid, so Zoe closed her eyes as she put her head forward, closing her lips around the shaft and pressing against the underside of his cock with her tongue. She felt it twitch; it became even firmer now that it was inside. Zoe's lips drew back around her teeth as the taste hit her, like sweat and something mildly salty. She couldn't believe that other girls actually claimed to enjoy doing this. The attendant grabbed her hair with both his hands and shoved her face into his crotch, and she retched as the tip of his cock grazed the back of her throat. Wiry pubic hair tickled against her nose. "Come on!" he said. She began to fellate him as best she could, working her lips and tongue around his organ. She bobbed her head back and forth, trying to swill up saliva for lubrication. Maybe it would dilute the taste as well, she thought. She gagged a couple more times as the attendant impatiently pulled her towards himself, and she choked out a strand of spittle and precum that dribbled down her chin. She rolled her tongue around his shaft, playing across the underside of the head, and put her tongue's tip against his frenulum, wondering if that was a sensitive area. She sealed her lips around the shaft again and made a few more back-and-forth movements. Then she found her mouth empty, with the attendant pushing on her forehead to hold her head back. She took the opportunity to take a gasp of air. Her lips were wet with a mixture of both their fluids. "You said you were good at this. This is the worst head I've ever gotten." "I-I'm sorry," she said. "I'll try harder. Tell me what you like," she said, trying very hard to force a smile. "This is a waste of my time," he said. "I'll take your cunt instead. At least you probably won't fuck that up as badly." He shoved her down onto the floor, and knelt on top of her while he removed her strait jacket. Despite everything else going on at that moment, she was relieved to finally be liberated of the sweaty, thick material. She brought her arms in front of her slowly. She was sure she felt a shoulder joint crack, sending a surge of numbness down her arm. "Stand up." She did so. She tried to cover her nakedness self-consciously, and the attendant swatted her hands away. He snorted derisively. "I've seen better," he said. "Those tits aren't much to look at." He pawed at her chest, grabbing her roughly. "Can't even get a decent handful. Still, that's not too important. Get in the cubicle." The attendant shoved Zoe into one of the bathroom stalls, and ordered her to sit on the toilet. There was no seat, and she cringed at the feeling of cold porcelain against her skin. It felt wrong. The bowl beneath her was streaked with rust-coloured stains. The position of the single light filled half the cubicle with shadow. "Hands above your head," he said. The attendant produced the roll of tape he had fetched from the supply cupboard before, and bound her wrists together tightly. There was a cistern high up on the wall, with a bare copper pipe leading down to the toilet itself, and the attendant wrapped more of the tape around the pipe and her wrists, binding them to the wall above her. She was regretting her decision now. "I only said I'd suck you off," she said, and received a hard slap across the face in response. "That mouth of yours is useless," he said. "Feels like you've never sucked a cock in your life." At Zoe's next attempt at objection, the attendant forced her mouth shut while he smoothed a strip of tape over her lips. Several more followed it, sealing her mouth completely. He used more of the tape to fashion makeshift cuffs for her ankles, and then tied them to the pipe above her head with long strips of it, spreading her legs wide, with her feet resting against the cubicle walls. She slipped down into the bowl a little, and then the attendant put his hands beneath her buttocks to heft her onto the rim. She was totally exposed to him. She was shaking her head, but either he didn't notice, or he didn't care. His prick had remained hard the whole time he was tying her up, and now he knelt down in front of her, guiding himself inside her with his hand.The height of the toilet meant he had to settle for an awkward half-squatting stance, steadying himself with one arm as he made his way inwards. Apparently deciding that the position was unworkable, he stood up again and pulled Zoe further forward, causing her arms to tug painfully at her shoulders. This way, his approach was slightly easier, and he was able to drive his cock in deep. In some ways, it wasn't as bad as the dildo Zoe had been subjected to before. The attendant's cock was softer and actually a deal narrower than the silicone toy that Emma had been made to fuck her with, on that day when Zoe had ended up taking a much more direct role in Helen's plans than she had ever intended. It was strange not being able to see the attendant's face, with only sounds of his labored breathing coming from behind the blank mask. The thin porcelain rim dug painfully into Zoe's thighs, and her back bumped against the wall in time with the attendant's thrusts. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine somebody fucking her that she actually wanted to, but the realities of the situation kept creeping back in. In particular, it was hard to ignore the tape over her mouth, which was making her breathe hard through her nose. She couldn't properly relax the muscles in her legs because of how they were tied back; her thighs trembled as she shifted between equally uncomfortable positions. Then she slumped further down as the attendant pulled her closer to the edge, stabbing in a little deeper. She would have thought he might not last that long, being already stimulated from her abortive attempt at fellatio. Then, as the minutes wore on, it began to seem like he would last longer as a result of it. She was starting to notice how cold it was down here. Goosebumps prickled on her arms, and she shivered. Her limbs throbbed with a multitude of aches. Zoe felt something towards the end, as if her genitals thought they should become stimulated out of obligation. It wasn't close to an orgasm - she'd have hated herself if she had gone that far. She was just starting to enjoy the slight tingling feeling when the attendant finished, and a jab of warmth surged into her cunt. He pulled out, and emitted the remainder of his seed over her belly and thighs, making a strained grunting noise as he did so. Zoe looked down at the snotty strands as they began to run down her body, and sighed inwardly. At least it was over. Maybe she could take advantage of the attendant's post-climax satisfaction. "Mmmph," she said. "Mm-mmph." It would be no good if she was gagged. She needed to speak, to try and convince him to afford her some chance at escape. Although, truthfully, he hadn't seemed to be very sympathetic to her so far. She had to stay positive, she thought. It was the best chance she had. "Mmmmh nn mnn," she said, emphatically. The attendant took his time cleaning off his dick with paper from the dispenser, dropping the used wads onto the floor. He put his trousers back on and washed his hands at the sink while Zoe watched what she could see of his reflection in the mirror. Eventually, he came back over. "Mmmh," Zoe pleaded. "Hah, oh, that's right, I'm supposed to be letting you escape," he said. "I can't believe you fell for that. You must really be desperate." His words were like a physical blow, like Zoe had been hit in the stomach. Her guts went cold. "Amazing the things you'll do, isn't it?" he said. "Of course, you aren't the first one to try this." "Hnnph." "How about you just sit here for now," he said. He checked the tape holding her legs apart, doubling some of it back on itself to spread her pussy even wider. "It'd be selfish of me to just have you to myself." He looked at his watch. "In fact, there's still about half an hour before Helen wants you... I'm sure some of the other attendants would enjoy coming down for a quick visit. I'll go and let them know," he said. He left, and then the masked face appeared around the doorway once more. "Oh, and you really need to work on those oral skills of yours," he said. "Terrible. Fucking terrible." The sound of his coarse laughter was cut off as he slammed the bathroom door behind him. Zoe's eyes were watering, but she blinked back the tears, resolving to direct her energy to something more useful. She could still make something of this situation, surely. Strips of hastily applied duct tape were nothing compared to the heavy-duty restraints Helen used. She tensed her arms as hard as she could, pulling downwards. The only thing that happened was that the tape became uncomfortably tight around her wrists. She tried again, grunting with the effort. Then she started trying to rock back and forth, tugging harder on each successive forward motion. There was a creaking sound from somewhere behind her, and she pulled harder still. Something was definitely shifting. The cistern pipe moved slightly against her back. She tried a few more back-and-forth tugs, and, when nothing more seemed to happen, she dispensed with the careful approach and began to thrash her limbs as much as she could, kicking her feet against the cubicle walls. There was another creak, and then a sound like a ceramic plate snapping. She craned her head back as far as she could to look behind her. The pipe had come away from its mounting in the porcelain, leaving a fractured hole. Some white fragments fell to the floor with a tinkle. Zoe shuffled sideways and fell off the side of the toilet onto her back, thumping her head against the wall painfully. Her shoulders screamed agonizing protest as her arms briefly bore her entire weight, and then she felt her wrists suddenly slip downwards. Gritty dust fell on top of her from where a pipe-bracket had been wrenched free from the tiles. It took another few minutes of exhausting thrashing and painful twisting of her joints, but eventually Zoe managed to slide her wrists free from the pipe. Her hands were mobile enough now to pick away at the tape on her ankles. She stopped halfway to tear the tape from her mouth, taking in a big lungful of air. By the time her legs were freed, she was sweating all over, supporting herself on quivering muscles that seldom saw any use. After that, she used the lower corner of one of the cubicle walls to rasp away at the tape around her wrists, rejoicing silently when she finally cut through it. She had to get out of here before another attendant showed up. She ran to the door, pulling it open and stepping into the corridor outside.

Chapter 18

Authors/Hoop/Incarceration/18_Attendant.txt

Hoop

Incarceration

Zoe's forehead met Helen's face, and Zoe felt something go crunch. Helen sprawled backwards, apparently too shocked to cry out, and Zoe cast off the straitjacket, flinging it to one side and descending upon her. A knee to the solar plexus had the desired effect, and Helen gasped and choked, curling up in an instinctively defensive position, too winded to cry for help. She raised her hands to her face. A small amount of blood appeared under her nose. Zoe straddled her, using one hand to mash Helen's face into the floor, frantically opening each drawer of the bedside cabinet, looking for the keys to Laura's restraints. She found them, unfastened one of Laura's cuffs, and handed her the key so she could attend to the other herself. Beneath her, Helen was gasping, struggling weakly, trying to reach the electric shock device in her pocket. Zoe grabbed her wrist, bending her arm behind her back. Helen's attempt to scream came out as a wheeze. Zoe rolled her on to her back, kneeling on her remaining free arm, and placed both her hands around Helen's throat. "What's the matter, 'mistress'? I thought you liked to play rough!" Her face was turning red, her eyes bloodshot. She managed to take half a breath, and Zoe tightened her grip. Helen's hand reached out, finding nothing to fight back with. There was fear in her eyes. "Don't think I'm going to choke you into unconsciousness," Zoe said. "That'd be too easy for you. Laura, help me get her on the bed." Laura had freed herself from the cuffs now, and came to help. Zoe ceased strangling Helen long enough for her to take a gasping breath. Laura was ready, holding the ball gag that she had worn earlier, and shoved it into Helen's mouth. It would be easier to manhandle her now that they didn't need to worry about her calling for help. True, she could still make noises, but they were indistinguishable from the cries of any other girl who might be being tortured here. The attendants wouldn't know the difference. She thrashed and kicked, making muffled cries while they wrestled her onto the bed. They snapped the cuffs closed around her wrists. Laura found that there were additional restraints beneath the bed, and they used them to shackle Helen by the ankles as well, spreading her out, immobile. She gasped and coughed, apparently still out of breath. Chains rattled against the bed frame, completely unyielding, as any number of Helen's victims had already found out. Panting with the exertion, Zoe and Laura stood over Helen's helpless body. Gradually, as the adrenal surge of the struggle wore off, a smile crept across Zoe's face. Laura looked as if she couldn't believe what was happening. She turned to Zoe, slack-jawed. "We... we got her," she said. "We actually got her." Zoe sat down on the mattress. Helen seemed to be trying to say something through her gag, choking on her saliva. The expression on her face was of total, helpless rage. Her fingers picked uselessly at the metal cuffs, and she glared at them murderously. Zoe reached into Helen's pocket, and removed the shock device. "Yeah," she said. "I guess we did, didn't we?" She grinned at Helen, her teeth bared. Sparks crackled between the metal prongs. "Wait, what are we going to do? I mean, what if someone-" Zoe held up her hand to interrupt Laura. "We're going to decide what happens now... 'mistress'. But you don't get to hear about it," she said, placing the shock device on Helen's stomach. "I'll leave that there for you to think about. But for now, I need some time to talk with Laura here." They found a pair of earplugs amongst Helen's ample equipment, and Laura held her head in place while Zoe inserted them into Helen's ears. She was still giving them a menacing look, so they blindfolded her as well, for good measure. Helen went quiet, apparently having given up on the pointless idea of trying to call for help. She shifted about, testing her bonds as if hoping she would find a weakness that had somehow gone unnoticed all this time. "I guess this is an opportunity to put some clothes on," said Laura. There were a handful of outfits in Helen's wardrobe, which seemed to either be her own personal clothes, or outfits for her victims that catered to any one of several fetishes. Zoe seemed to be about the same size as Helen, managing to find some adequate, casual clothing. Laura wasn't quite so lucky, and after a long search she decided she'd rather remain in her undergarments than wear any of the various black, leathery things they found in the cupboard's deeper recesses. They stood at the foot of the bed, considering the next move. "What happens now?" "Maybe we can shock her a bit?" Laura said, "perhaps till she passes out? Maybe we can do all the fucking things that she... that she..." "Take it easy," said Zoe. "There's plenty of time for all of that. But we want to actually get out of here, right?" "I... I know. It's just, I don't know, what do we do? How can we get out? There's guards everywhere, Zoe! You remember what happened when you tried..." "That was because I didn't have time to plan," she said. "Now we can be careful about it. We're all getting out, okay? All of us." Laura nodded. "Let's start with this," said Zoe. She picked Helen's tablet computer up from where she had left it, and tapped at the screen a few times. "Huh, that figures. It makes sense that she's a control freak. She's got root access to every other server in the building." She sat down on the bed. "Which means I should be able to..." She tapped away silently for a few minutes. Laura sat down next to her. "What is it you're trying to do?" "The cameras," said Zoe. "I need to give us some time to find the others. Helen said they were being taken to sens-dep, right?" "We can't leave the room! What if someone finds us?" "Look," said Zoe, pointing at the screen, "nobody patrolling the corridors. Why would they? They keep everyone locked in their cells, probably tied up too. And it's late. And now," she added, tapping the screen and causing a flurry of text to appear in a terminal window, "whoever's watching won't be able to see anything for a few minutes, because I've just told the camera server it needs to reboot to install updates. Come on, we don't have much time." Claire had made the mistake of thinking the day's torments were finally over. She and Emma had sat on the floor of their cell, with nothing much to say to each other, cautiously taking pleasure in being left alone and allowed to rest. After a while, Claire had decided she might try and sleep, even though she wasn't particularly tired. Evidently she had managed to drift off at some point, which meant that the awakening came as a shock. She found herself being pulled to her feet, cruelly torn away from the escape of her dreamless sleep. Emma was already face-down on the floor, held there by an attendant's knee in her back as he tipped out the contents of his equipment bag. "Miss Stanford wants to send you for some alone time," he said, "in sens-dep. You like it there, don't you?" Emma merely screamed and cried in response, nails digging into the soft material of the cell floor as she tried to wriggle free. "Again! Why!? She can't do this to us! I've already been! We didn't do anything wrong! Please!" Her pleas were, of course, futile. There didn't need to be any reason behind the whims of their mistress. "I'll do anything else," she was begging, "just don't send me back. Please. Pleeease! NO!" Claire knew how much of an effect it had had on the girl the first time. She wondered if her own response would be so traumatic, or easier now that she was simply accepting whatever her mistress decided to do. It wouldn't be painful in the sense of the other tortures. Maybe it would be easy to endure. But in that case, why was Emma so hysterical? Her cries quietened down once she had been gagged. Claire allowed the attendant to fit her with a straitjacket, and then she was left alone briefly, as it was apparently going to take both of them to do the same for Emma. She was thrashing about with a good deal of energy, wide-eyed, tears streaming down her cheeks. The attendants wrapped bandaging material around her head to blindfold her, and, with Emma now disoriented, the rest of their job was much simpler. They bound her legs, leaving her to squirm and whimper while they both turned their attention back to Claire. Her own blindfold went on, and everything became dark. Not even a small crack of light filtered through. She opened her mouth to accept a ball gag, noting that it was softer than usual, with straps that didn't chafe her lips. Designed for long-term use, she supposed. She felt earphones being inserted into her ears and taped in place. They emitted a steady, quiet stream of white noise.Her only connection to the outside world now was the feeling of restraints against her skin. She felt herself being carried and dumped on some slightly-yielding surface, and then rocking slightly as she was presumably moved to a different room. She was lifted up, and there was again the sense of general motion before she came to rest, lying down on a padded floor. At least it was softer than their cell's, she thought. The surface below her shifted slightly, and there was the sensation of something heavy being dropped nearby. And after that, nothing. Claire wiggled her toes, the only part of her body that was still mobile. She shifted her arms, wishing she could cross them the other way round inside the straitjacket. Then she rolled over onto her back, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. So this is 'sens-dep', she thought. It didn't seem so bad for the first hour. Or ten minutes, or thirty - Claire couldn't tell. What she did know was that the utter blackness and absence of distinguishable sound was starting to break down for her. Within the static hiss, voices began to emerge. Images formed in her mind; the distinction between seeing and simply imagining became blurred. "Forever," the voices whispered. "You'll be here forever. She'll forget about you." She tried to roll over, and was immediately gripped by the sensation of falling. A moment later her whole body jerked as her sense of gravity re-established itself. She wondered what was happening to the other girls right now, and with nothing to distract her, she was able to visualize with complete clarity any number of tortures that might occur to her. They were composites of her past experiences, hypnagogic images of Emma's thighs and chest sore with cane-marks, Laura with her pupils dilated, drooling and stupefied under the influence of Helen's drugs, the redhead, tattoo pen buzzing and ready to add another permanent mark, Zoe strapped to a metal frame, and the needles, oh God, the needles in her body... Claire began to realize why Emma had been so afraid of going back. Some indeterminate time later, Claire was just beginning to hallucinate the sensation of insects crawling all over her skin when something undeniably real touched her face. She was jolted back to the more mundane reality of something happening to her that she couldn't see, and tried to squirm away, as if that would help at all. It was a hand, someone was touching her, pulling off her blindfold. What were they going to do to her now? In the dim light of the room, she could just make out the figure in front of her, who was unfastening her bonds. For some reason, the mirrored faceplate of the attendants' helmets was absent. She blinked deliberately and slowly, unsure if this was still her mind conjuring images for her. It was Zoe. Zoe was freeing her. She loosened the ball gag, and Claire pushed it out of her mouth. The static hiss disappeared as the earphones were removed. "What... Zoe... what's going on?" "We're getting you out of here," she said. "We got her, Claire. I nearly fucking knocked her out, she's tied down and waiting for us." "Who is?" Claire felt a sadness about the fact that Zoe had obviously been broken completely now, bent to their mistress's will, and was dragging her off to torture some other victim. "Helen." Claire felt a stab of anxiety. Mistress didn't like it when they called her by name. "We got Helen," Zoe repeated. "But that doesn't make any sense," said Claire. "She'll snap out of it once we take her up," said Zoe. Claire realized she was addressing Laura, who was also present. "Help me free Emma, too. I guess they were the only two in here." Claire watched skeptically as they freed Emma from her bonds. Surely this wasn't allowed. She followed them out of the room and into the blindingly bright corridor, Zoe pulling her by her wrist. None of this made any sense. Laura led the way back, heart pounding as she peeked around each corner to check for attendants. The corridors seemed quiet - Zoe was apparently correct in her assumption that there was no need for anybody to patrol them, with every victim at least locked in a cell, and probably restrained in some way in addition to that. She hoped that whatever Zoe had done on Helen's computer had disabled the cameras long enough for them to make the trip. Every second they spent outside Helen's room was a risk. They made it back without being discovered, by which time Emma seemed to have regained her composure, with Zoe reassuring her that everything was okay. Laura was more concerned about Claire, who seemed very spaced-out. Perhaps her most recent experiences had completely broken her. Laura realized she herself had been perilously close to slipping into complete, unresisting acceptance of her fate, but the sight of Helen bound and helpless, like they had been so many times before, had dispelled all of that. Now the only things on her mind were escape, and as much revenge as they could get without risking being caught. Zoe closed the door of Helen's room softly behind them, and they stood at the end of the bed, looking down at her. She seemed unaware that they had returned, and was carefully and calmly trying to ease her hands through the cuffs, which were far too well-fitted to allow such an obvious escape. She was a victim of her own thoroughness. "Jesus," said Emma. "Is it really her? Actually her?" She went to the other end of the bed, and removed Helen's blindfold. She looked for a long time at Helen's face, with Helen glaring back at her. "Aahe gah ouh," Helen attempted to speak. "Ee cah talh. Hu ih." "What was that?" Emma pushed the ball gag far back into Helen's mouth, and allowed her to choke on it for a good few seconds. She removed the pressure, and Helen coughed up a few strands of drool. She tried again to communicate, but none of them were interested in what she had to say. "We can't do this!" Claire said, "we'll get in so much trouble! This is not okay!" "Trouble from who?" Zoe opened the remaining cupboards, searching for inspiration. "From mistress! What were you thinking, doing something like this?!" "It doesn't matter any more, Claire. What she's done to us, it's over. We're going to get out, but we're getting some payback first." "Out where? Where to?" "Back to the world, Claire. Out of this place." "But, how?" "We'll work it out. I've got a few ideas." Emma removed Helen's earplugs. "But there's no reason we can't have a bit of fun first," she said. Zoe had found a robust pair of scissors, the kind that could easily cut through denim if necessary. She indicated to Laura and Emma to hold Helen down, and set about slicing away her clothes. Helen thrashed impotently, mumbling incomprehensible curses. They stripped her down to her underwear. Claire only watched, chewing on her knuckles, looking worried and confused. "You can put some clothes on, you know," said Zoe. "Hers don't fit Laura, but you're probably about the right size." Laura gave Zoe a nasty glare, although she was only telling the truth. She took a moment to find some things for Claire to wear - panties and a bra that fortunately seemed to fit well enough, a pair of leggings, and a long-sleeved top. Emma ended up wearing a t-shirt that barely covered her midriff, reasoning that it was better than nothing. It had been a while since any of them had worn normal clothes. The blade of the scissors slipped beneath the waistband of Helen's panties. Snip. Zoe cut the waistband at the other side, and then pulled the material away to expose pink, vulnerable flesh. She ran the scissor blade lightly over the area, and Helen froze up. "Careful, Zoe," said Laura. "What, you think we shouldn't be too rough? After what she did to us? Look at me," Zoe pointed at number tattooed on her breast, "if this doesn't justify doing whatever I fucking want to her, then what does? This isn't coming off, Laura, it's permanent. Maybe I should give our 'mistress'" (she scowled as she used the term) "a few permanent marks of her own? Huh? How about that?" She held the scissors in front of Helen's face and snapped them open and shut. Helen winced, despite her best efforts to appear calm, which was clearly not the case. Emma put her hand on Zoe's back, and gently, but firmly, took hold of the hand that was holding the scissors. "We all feel the same way," she said. "But that's too far. Give me the scissors." "Are you fucking crazy? After what she did to you? To me?" Helen watched the argument unfold above her. "What's a few little cuts compared to a caning? Compared to waterboarding? A whole fucking box of needles stuck in my skin? Are you out of your mind? She's evil!" Zoe reached down with her other hand and tore away Helen's bra. Helen groaned as Zoe pinched a nipple between her fingers and pulled it up, and then screamed quite loudly, despite her gag, as Zoe poised the scissor blades either side of the pinched flesh. "Zoe! Stop!" "Why should I? Give me one fucking reason!" "Because," said Claire, "we're better than her. If we hurt her like she did, then we're just as bad." Zoe frowned at her for a few seconds. "Fuck that," she said. Snip. Helen cried out the loudest, but even the other girls joined in the reaction of what Zoe had done. Laura opened eyes that she had reflexively scrunched shut to see Zoe holding the pair of scissors over Helen's untouched chest, the nipple slightly pink from where it had been pinched and then released at the last moment. Zoe threw the scissors to the floor. She moved up so that she was kneeling over Helen, face to face."You have no idea how much I actually wanted to go through with that," she said. Laura felt queasy. She was sure that the hatred was strong in all of them, but Zoe seemed to be taking it the furthest. Her eyes were wide, and Laura could see that she was grinning maniacally as she slapped Helen's face, once, twice, then again and again until Helen was no longer even bracing for the impact, her head flopping from side to side with each strike. "Fucking bitch! Fucking-" She grabbed Helen by the shoulders, pulling her up and then shoving her down roughly. The mattress creaked beneath them. "Sshh, Zoe, what if someone hears? Helen never spoke to us like that, and there's no way she'd let one of us do it!" Zoe narrowed her eyes. It was a fair point. She gave Helen a final slap before pushing her head down into the pillow as she stood up from the bed. Helen's cheeks were red. "I'm sorry," she said. "I guess my self-control isn't as good as all of yours." Zoe picked up the computer again, and Emma and Claire came over to look at its screen, for the first time able to see whatever it was that Helen used it for. Zoe touched various icons, flicking through pages of data and interfaces. There was a menu of video streams, all showing camera feeds from various parts of the facility, in full color and high resolution. Some cameras showed cells like the one they had slept in, all containing various numbers of girls. In one cell, three girls lay sleeping, with a single small blanket to share between them. In another, a girl was huddled in the corner alone, a tray of food on the floor alongside her, untouched. Elsewhere, girls who had probably shown more resistance had been left blindfolded and restrained. Many of the other rooms were empty, with equipment neatly tidied away. Laura recognized the large, black chair set in front of a bank of computer monitors. It seemed that she was not the only girl to undergo milking either - somewhere else, two girls were restrained in the way she remembered: strapped to metal frames, with feeding tubes secured into their mouths, suction cups attached to their breasts that had been artificially induced to lactate. There were a few attendants in one room, sat around a table and having a coffee break. Strange, Laura thought, that it should look like the break room of any other workplace: a kitchen worktop, a few sofas, a calendar on a fridge. To them, this was their job. Another program seemed to be a database. A list of three-digit numbers down one side indexed everybody imprisoned in the facility. Laura put her hand over her mouth. There were dozens. Zoe tapped the "next entry" icon again and again, and each time they were presented with the picture of a girl and her statistics: height, weight, even allergies and blood type. How the hell did they even get that information? It was inevitable that they eventually stumbled across one of their own entries. Claire's face appeared on the screen, next to accurate, personal data. There was something called a "progress log", which they skimmed through, although Claire turned away, not wanting to see. The lower part of the list contained the earliest entries: '314 was inducted into the facility today, no major issues. Preliminary session proceeded well.' '314 seems weaker than average, and already clings to her cell mate. I will enjoy breaking her, although the challenge won't be significant.' Then, later on, the entries gave details of Claire's "progress". '314 is becoming quite docile, and obediently cleaned my feet today. I'm becoming quite fond of her.' '314 ably serviced some important clients today, with no fuss or resistance. What a pleasure it is to train her.' '314 shows less resistance each day, and even seems eager to please me, now. She will be ready for auction soon, although I am tempted to keep her for personal use.' Zoe set the tablet down for a few moments to think. The scale of Helen's operation was becoming apparent. Across the room, Helen was once again trying to communicate with them. "Shut up," said Zoe. "Mmh, mm mmh." "I said, shut up." "Mmmh." Helen rattled her restraints. Zoe flicked to another application, an e-mail client, filled with correspondence, neatly sorted into directories. The "internal" directory contained communications between Helen and the rest of the facility staff. In particular, there were recent entries about the "benefits" of the attendants being curtailed due to a "potential escape incident." Zoe grinned when she read Helen's account of her near-escape. "Wait a second," she said, under her breath. "What?" said Laura. "You think it's not okay for us to hurt her, Claire?" Claire responded non-committally. "I think I've just worked out a nice way to get some payback," she said. Laura watched as Zoe searched through the wardrobe, muttering about something she had seen in there before. "Ah, here it is." The purpose of the black, rubbery thing wasn't obvious at first until Zoe unlaced some drawstrings at the back - it was some kind of mask, or rather, a hood that would cover the wearer's entire head. There seemed to be no eye holes though - only a slit for a mouth, which was currently sealed with a zipper. "Lift her head up a bit," said Zoe. "No, I supposed we'll have to roll her over, actually." "Why are we putting that on her?" Laura asked. "You'll see. Anyway, it'll be good for her to get some first-hand experience of what she's been doing to us. Now uncuff her wrists, carefully. Emma, you take her other arm. Claire, hold her down." Laura could feel Helen's arms straining as they freed her from the bed frame, but she was apparently not very strong, and couldn't get any leverage with her body twisted awkwardly. "Should we take the gag out?" said Emma. Zoe thought for a moment. They had all become familiar with the effectiveness of various pieces of equipment during their time here. "The ball gag will stop her being able to speak, but it doesn't quieten her down all that much. And this hood probably won't do much. Guess we should swap it for something else." Zoe stooped down to pick up the cut-up remains of Helen's panties. She scrunched them into a ball, testing it for size in her hand, and then picked up a discarded sock in addition to the panties. She set the undergarments down on the bed, making sure the scissors were close to hand. "You scream for help, you make any noise, and I really will use these," she said. "Understand?" Helen glared at her. "Do you understand?" she raised her voice. Helen nodded once. "Good." "Actually, like hell I'm going to trust you. Laura, get ready to shove these in her mouth," she said, handing her the dirty undergarments. Zoe unbuckled the strap on Helen's ball gag, and eased it out. She immediately clamped her thumb and fingers either side of Helen's mouth, forcing it open. "Aagh, wait, wait," she was saying, "I won't scream. Wait. Just give me a second." Laura looked skeptical. "You're making a huge mistake," said Helen. "You can't get out. You've already looked at the computer. There's too much security," her mouth began to twist into a grin as she listed reasons why their situation was hopeless. "We put those microchips under your skin, remember?" Emma glanced down at the small, white mark on her hand where the insertion wound had healed. "Everywhere you go," Helen continued, "we'll be able to see. I guess you told the camera server to reboot to give you time to get the others," she said to Zoe, "but that won't work twice. Our IT guy will realise something's up. You can't win. So let me go, and I'll make it easy for you. Or you can wait until someone finds you, gets me free, and then your punishment will be severe and imaginative." The girls looked at each other. "You know this isn't right, 314," she said. "Claire. I know this is weird and you don't feel right about helping them. I won't punish you. You need to stop this." "I don't..." "She's not your fucking slave any more!" said Zoe. "None of us are! Laura, shut her up." "No no, wait! I can-" "Not interested," said Zoe. Helen managed to clamp her lips shut, but couldn't help opening her mouth to cry out when Zoe grabbed an ample amount of breast tissue between her thumb and fingers, squeezing brutally. Laura shoved the undergarments into Helen's mouth, and Zoe covered her face with the rubber hood. Helen thrashed and struggled, making it as difficult for them as possible, but with Emma holding her head into the pillow, Zoe was able to lace the hood up at the back, pulling the arrangement tight against Helen's face and tying the strings off at the back, then buckling the built-in collar. The arrangement was very secure. Emma pulled Helen's head up. With the zipper fastened and her mouth packed, Helen was effectively silenced, only able to make muffled groans. "Do you think she can get enough breath?" said Emma. The rubbery material of the mask bulged slightly, and then formed back around Helen's nose as she struggled for air. "Hope so," said Zoe. "Wouldn't want her to suffocate or anything. I'm sure she'll be fine. Won't you?" She roughly grabbed another handful of Helen's bare breast, eliciting a stifled mewl of pain. "Nice and quiet. Much better." Zoe returned to looking at the computer, to enact the next part of her plan. "And now," she said to herself, bringing up the camera streams, "where are you, you little red-headed bitch?" She looked up from the computer. "This is going to take a bit of time," she said. "But there's plenty of stuff lying around here. We can't let Helen get too comfortable.Maybe you can rehabilitate Claire a bit. Let her work some of it out. Laura helped Emma manhandle Helen to the foot of the bed, where they cuffed her wrists against the frame so that she was kneeling on the floor, back and buttocks exposed. They found a leather flogger, and Laura handed it to Claire, closing her fingers around the handle. "Use it," she said. "I can't," said Claire. "I don't want to hurt anyone. It doesn't make it right. I mean, was it really so bad?" "Yes, it was. She's just fucked with your head so much you don't see it that way. Now hit her." Claire hesitated. "Fucking hit her!" said Emma. The leather strips slapped against Helen's back. She let out a grunt, although the pain couldn't have been much, judging from Claire's half-hearted attempt. "Oh, here," said Emma, "give it to me." She wrested the implement from Claire's grip, holding the business end with her other hand to stretch it, building up elastic energy that ensured a solid impact when she released it against Helen's shoulders. She grunted louder. That one would have hurt. She struck her repeatedly, working herself into a rage as she unleashed the flogger on Helen's back again and again, harder and harder, while Helen dug her nails into her palms and tried to turn this way and that, so that the strikes fell on untouched skin rather than the red, sore patches that were developing in various places. Emma cursed and swore, swinging her arm wildly with each strike, putting the force of her whole body behind them. Eventually, she dropped the flogger, panting for breath, she and the other girls watching the marks on Helen's back turn pink, then bright red. Emma settled into a crouch against the wall, tucking her head between her knees and crying tears of anger or relief or sadness, Laura couldn't tell which. Helen's chest was shaking, but whether she was also crying, they didn't know. Certainly, she would be in a lot of pain. They were quiet for a while after that, while Zoe tapped at the computer. Laura felt decidedly half-hearted about picking up the flogger and having a go herself, and Claire didn't look like she was about to try either. Some of the marks had now turned purple, and Laura found herself wondering if they had gone too far. No, she thought. Nothing was too far for what she'd done to them. "I've sorted out the cameras," said Zoe. "I've frozen the streams for the ones that look at the corridors, so we should be able to move around safely. It looks like the number of attendants is decreased overnight, there's a few slacking off in the break room, and some more assigned to watch specific cells that we can avoid. The next thing is to go pay a visit to Miss Tattoo Artist." She held up the computer so they could see the video stream of the red-haired girl, who was standing in a tiled room with a metal chair at its centre, which had suggestive, rust-coloured stains on the floor beneath it. She was attending to a tray of what looked like surgical equipment - bandages, cotton swabs, needles and the like. She sprayed something onto a paper towel, and started to wipe down the chair's surfaces. "I've frozen the camera for her room too. She's one floor down, along a corridor," said Zoe. "If we rush her, we can overpower her." "I don't know, Zoe, that sounds like one hell of a risk. What if we can't do it?" "There's four of us," she said. "Helen's not exactly going to be able to do anything. And look, the equipment room is pretty nearby. We'll have everything we need." "Can I ask what exactly we're going to do, once we 'overpower' her?" "We're going to get her to help us," said Zoe. "And then I'm going to have some fun with her." "Shouldn't we just focus on getting out? I mean, Helen's not going anywhere. Couldn't we escape?" "Sure, we could," she said. "And then eventually someone would come and find her, free her, and things would go back to normal. And she'd carry on. I want her to know the gravity of what she's done. Just trust me on this, all right?" Laura wondered if Zoe was enjoying herself a little too much. Wasn't this enough? She couldn't very well run off on her own, though. Zoe seemed to know her way around the computers, which would be vital for getting out safely. Her knowledge from when she was on Helen's staff would doubtless help. Christ, that's true, Laura thought, Zoe used to work for her. She couldn't imagine her being on the other side of their situation. She, Emma and Claire hauled Helen out of the room, half-carrying her, half dragging when she managed to squirm out of their grip. Zoe went to the equipment room, coming back with a large ball gag, a see-through plastic bag, and some cable ties that she had already arranged into a ring. She pointed to another doorway. "Quietly," she said. "She's in there. I'm going to run in first, Emma, you follow me and help hold her down. Laura, you and Claire can drag Helen in afterwards. Okay?" Laura nodded. She watched from the corridor, hoping that Zoe knew what she was doing. Zoe eased the door open ever so quietly, revealing the red-haired girl, who had her back to the door. She was humming to herself happily, holding up each of her tools to the light to inspect them for stains, wiping them down with latex-gloved hands and returning them to their proper place on the stainless steel table. Zoe crept quietly for the first few steps, then went all-out and charged at the girl, plastic bag raised in her hands. She pulled it down over the girl's head, who shrieked in surprise. Emma was close behind, grabbing the redhead's arms and pinning them to her waist. Zoe managed to get the ring of zip ties around the girl's neck and yanked them tight, securing the bag in place. She immediately began to choke, getting one hand free despite Emma's best efforts and grabbing at the thin plastic cutting into her neck, then falling to her knees as the girls pulled her down. The plastic bag fogged up from her strangled breaths, and Zoe clamped her hand over the girl's mouth. She motioned for Laura to drag Helen inside, and she did so, shutting the door. The redhead kicked out and sent the metal table crashing to the floor, and Laura ran over to help Zoe and Emma wrestle her to the ground. "You can cooperate with us," said Zoe, "and we'll cut the bag off. You can keep struggling, and we'll leave you to suffocate. What's it going to be?" The girl retched and choked, even with Zoe's hand removed from her mouth she seemed unable to form a response. Droplets of condensation ran down the plastic surface. There was a desperate look in her eyes. "I wonder if she wants to make the sensible choice," said Zoe, "or not. Hmm?" More strangled gasps. The plastic sucked against the girl's mouth and nostrils, allowing her to take half a breath of oxygen-depleted air before sealing against them. "Time's running out," said Zoe. "Please..." the girl managed to croak, "take... off..." "Promise to be a good girl?" Laura winced. It sounded like something Helen would say. The redhead nodded desperately. "All right then." Zoe used a nearby scalpel to sever the zip ties, pulling the bag off and allowing the girl to take huge, gasping breaths as she recovered. Weakened by the ordeal, they had no trouble holding her down. She didn't seem to have the presence of mind to resist, merely lying there and panting. "How..." she gasped, "How did you get free?" "Doesn't matter," said Zoe. "What we need now from you, is a little favour." The redhead looked doubtful. "Or alternatively," said Zoe, "we can just tie you up and leave you like her." She pointed to Helen. "Why would I help you?" she said. "I've got more plastic bags," said Zoe. "Also there's four of us, one of you, and a lot of sharp things in this room. Am I making sense?" "What do you want from me?" "Get your tattoo pen," said Zoe. "We need to make Claire's body double here a bit more convincing." It was becoming apparent what Zoe had planned for Helen. Looking at her lying on the floor, face completely covered by the hood, Helen was simply an anonymous girl, like many of the victims here. Her clothes had fitted Claire so well because they were, essentially, the same size, and roughly the same build. No birthmarks - not that any of her staff would have seen her naked anyway. With Helen's hair tucked inside the hood, the only thing that would distinguish the girls' bodies was the number "314", inked on Claire's buttock. "Take your pants down, Claire." She didn't question Zoe's instructions. She was used to taking orders of that kind. Zoe pointed to the number on Claire's backside. "Write it on her," said Zoe, "and make it look exactly the same." "I can see what your plan is," said the redhead. "You seriously think that will work? What about the microchips?" Zoe brandished a scalpel. Claire looked at it anxiously. "Just get to work," said Zoe. They put the ball gag Zoe had brought on the redhead girl, in case she decided to try and call for help. They rolled Helen over on to her front. Zoe sat close by, scalpel in hand, watching the redhead intently as she reluctantly inked the solid black numbers onto Helen's buttock. After that came the unpleasant business of the microchip. It wasn't buried deep, and Zoe managed to remove it from Claire quickly and cleanly. The chip was small, about the size of a grain of rice. Zoe sterilised it with alcohol, and Helen's breath quickened as they made a small cut to insert the chip into her hand, covering it with a plaster. They decided they may as well remove everyone else's while they were here, and had the tools to do so."It's sore," said Emma, pointing out Helen's reddened skin where it had been inked. "They're going to notice it's new." "Not if we even things up," said Laura. "Keep holding her down." She spanked Helen's other buttock with her palm, striking harder once she had found the best way to angle her hand. There was a series of satisfying slapping sounds, and Helen's ass was soon a bright and even red all over. Laura had even managed to leave a mark in the shape of her hand where she had landed a particularly effective blow. "There," she said, "perfect." "Mmh hmmh?" the red-haired girl asked. "Sit in the chair," said Zoe. The girl looked around the room, apparently decided there were no other options available to her, and grudgingly complied with Zoe's order. Her fingers reached for the ball gag. "Uh-uh," said Zoe. "It stays on." "Mmmh," she protested. Zoe used more zip ties to bind the girl to the chair by her wrists and ankles. Then she picked up the scalpel again and began to cut away her clothes. "Her as well? Aren't we going a bit far? What about Helen?" Emma looked concerned. "What I want you to do," said Zoe, "is take Helen to the room one floor down, the one on the left of the computer screen. It's got a bench with restraints on it. Take her there and strap her down, make sure she's spread out. Oh, and put a ring gag in her mouth, too. Leave the hood on. Okay?" They left Zoe with the red-haired girl, assured that they wouldn't encounter any attendants on the way. The corridors were strangely quiet. Helen, obviously realizing the basis of the plan to have her assume Claire's place, was thrashing more energetically now, desperately trying to get them to allow her to communicate. They found the room that Zoe had sent them to, and brought Helen inside. The only furniture was the bench, covered with a thin layer of plastic padding. Thick, metal cuffs were attached at either end, secured with heavy bolts. They lay Helen down on it and locked the cuffs around her limbs. The arrangement held her spread out, exposed. She arched her back, finding no give in the restraints, looking around blindly. "Guess we'll put this in now," said Laura, holding up the gag they had collected from the equipment room - a metal ring a few inches across, set between two leather straps. "I suppose we'll have to roll the hood up a bit." They loosened the lacing just enough to reveal Helen's mouth from beneath the rubber. Her skin was slick with sweat. She spat out the saliva-soaked ball of fabric. "Please," she said, "wait, just calm down, this is enough. I'll let you go. I'll let you go! Don't listen to 27-... to Zoe. She's gone crazy. You don't know what she's going to do. We need to talk about this." "Pleading now, are we?" Laura laughed. "You're pathetic." "You don't understand," said Helen, "she's a sadist. I used her as a chemist because I couldn't let her near the girls, she was too rough with them. You don't need to do this! You can walk out of here!" "Sure we can," said Emma. "And then you'll just come for us again. Nice try, though," she said. They shoved the ring gag into her mouth, wedging it open uncomfortably wide. Then the hood came back down. They opened the zipper, and Helen's tongue protruded past it, trying to find any way to loosen the gag. "Hleah," she said "ohh't oh. Uu aahn." "Guess this is where we leave her," said Emma. "Haah!" protested Helen. "You just lie there and relax," said Laura. "I'm sure you won't be left alone for long." "Aauh! Haah!" Helen's nonsense sounds were a lot quieter the other side of the door, once they had left the room. They returned to Zoe and the redhead. Emma happened to be the first to walk back into the room, gasping at what she saw. Behind her, Claire threw her hands up to cover her eyes. "Oh, God, Zoe! What the fuck?" Laura had the sense to close the door, lest they be overheard. "What have you done?" Zoe turned to them, brushing her hair out of the way with a latex-gloved hand. It left a little streak of blood on her forehead. "You all saw what she did to me," she said. "This fucking red-headed bitch. The needles. I thought this would be a fitting punishment for her." Zoe had put one of the surgical masks that the redhead had always worn over the girl's face, covering the ball gag. Her eyes were red now, wet with tears. Her hands were shaking, breath coming in shuddering, stifled gasps. Zoe had apparently been quite careful - there wasn't much blood, considering what she had done to her. The girl was curling and uncurling her toes, which caused the little pile of discarded needle sheaths between her feet to shift and rustle. "Fucking hell," said Laura. "She'll be fine," said Zoe, grinning a little disturbingly. "See, I've tied off these strands of catgut here and here, so they'll only get torn out if she moves too much." The redhead's eyes turned upwards. It looked like she wanted to scream, but the movement of her rib cage associated with taking a deep breath would cause the new, chained-together breast piercings to tug on each other painfully. She merely choked and shuddered, staring at something beyond the ceiling. Laura happened to glance down at what Zoe had done between the girl's legs. She turned away, swallowing hard against rising bile. "Jesus Christ." "Time for an internal e-mail," said Zoe. She discarded her gloves and picked up the tablet. Her fingers moved rapidly across the on-screen keyboard. 'To all attendant staff: 'Since the last near-escape incident, all attendants have been banned from using the girls for their own purposes. I have, however, noticed that this had led to a decrease in morale, productivity, and attitude towards work. It is now apparent to me that use of the girls is a more important perquisite of your employment contract than I had thought. 'I am extending an offer to all staff, effective immediately, of the use of subject 314. You may find her in room 22A. 314, despite my best efforts, remains resistant, and I have decided that the best course of action for her is extreme conditioning. You may use every part of her body for yourselves, as you see fit. A vital part of her training process is disorientation and sensory deprivation, so she is to remain hooded and gagged at all times. Other than that, you many do as you wish. She is my gift to you, with the anticipation that this will make your employment here more enjoyable. '-- H. Stanford' "Does it read all right?" said Zoe. The others scanned over it. They compared it with other correspondence from Helen, to make sure it sounded like something she would write. Zoe sent the message, and they loaded up the video streams to watch what developed. A few minutes passed. The attendants in the break room continued their game of cards, beneath the watchful gaze of the surveillance camera. The girls saw one of them reach into his pocket and pull out a phone. He looked at the screen for a few seconds and then gestured excitedly to the others. They crowded round, all eager to see the message, and then the room emptied in moments. Emma wondered why they weren't appearing on any of the other screens, and remembered that Zoe had frozen the corridor camera streams. The next they saw of the attendants was when they entered the room where Helen lay strapped to the bench in its centre. One of them already had his trousers around his ankles. They fell upon her like a pack of animals. As the attendants began to touch her, Helen's body tensed up. She struggled violently, twisting her body while her limbs remained locked in place. The fastest attendant positioned himself between her thighs, grubby penis already in hand, and took his prize. The next went for the opposite end, bending her head back over the edge of the bench and parting the hood's zipper with his fingers, before thrusting his dick into her mouth. The third, too slow to secure an orifice for himself, seemed content with pawing at Helen's breasts, and then rubbing his genitals on them. Another attendant with different interests half-raised his faceplate from over his mouth, so that he could begin sucking on Helen's toes. It was strange to watch Helen's ordeal in complete silence - it seemed that the cameras had no microphones. It made the scene feel distant, somehow unreal, as they all watched intently. Zoe was rapt, grinning widely. Emma felt only a grim sense that Helen deserved what was happening to her, and Laura didn't exactly seem to be enjoying herself either. Claire looked like she didn't know what to think. Emma winced as the first attendant pulled out and copiously ejaculated onto Helen's stomach. The camera's resolution was good enough to capture each spurt of sticky glaze draped over her body. His companion, apparently unconcerned about his predecessor's semen, plunged in with vigour, reaching one hand underneath Helen's ass where he did something that caused her whole body to spasm briefly. He withdrew his fingers and sucked on them. With his other hand, he gave the thumbs-up sign to his colleague, who had finished fucking Helen's face. He withdrew, and his copious seed dribbled from her lips in thick strands. His dick in Helen's mouth was soon replaced by another. They unshackled her from the bench after a few more had had their way with her, and at the first sign of her restraints being loosened, Helen tried desperately to get free, kicking and flailing clumsily. She was completely overpowered by the attendants still waiting their turn, jostling each other, now in various states of disrobement.They dragged her over to the wall, where one of them pinned her by her neck, allowing another to maul her breasts with rough hands. Another attendant, quite to the incomprehension of everybody else, took to licking her inner thigh, following the trail of sticky fluids until his mouth was upon her genitals, where he lapped eagerly. He was pulled aside by one who had not had his turn, and he joined the fray next, dick in hand while several others watched and masturbated. It was an appalling, chaotic spectacle. Helen was gradually losing either the will or the ability to resist. Each kick, each swing of her arms, became slower and weaker. Her head hung down, the semen of countless men drooling from her lips. They passed her around between themselves, her body limp like a rag doll. Those whose dicks had softened violated her with their fingers or tongues instead. Eventually, after a long and violent ordeal, it began to appear that the attendants were tiring of her, and they trickled out of the room one by one, back to their break room or their other duties. The last attendant to leave diligently cuffed Helen's hands and ankles, and left her alone to squirm weakly on the stained floor. The girls said nothing to each other. They sat for a long while, the only sound the occasional whimper of pain from the red-haired girl. Zoe closed the video feed and stood up. "Let's get out of here," she said. "I remember where the lab is. We should be able to get out that way. Looks like the new girl is working late." She loaded the camera stream for the laboratory where she had once worked. It looked tidier now. The new girl was sitting on a stool in front of the workbench, writing in a notebook, pausing now and then to tap at her calculator. Zoe narrowed her eyes at the screen. "Don't think I've forgotten about you," she said. "What about her?" Laura pointed to the girl in the chair. She was looking very pale now, eyelids fluttering. "Someone will find her. I guess. Hopefully soon, for her sake," said Zoe. The girl managed the faintest attempt at a scream before they left her to suffer alone. They reached the lab without event, and Zoe tapped on the frosted glass window of the door she had made the mistake of venturing through on the day she had joined Helen's victims. The lock had been taped open - she supposed it didn't need to be locked from the outside any more, now that Helen's new chemist was fully involved in what went on here. The new girl had obligingly opened the door, having no reason to be suspicious, and Zoe pounced on her at the first opportunity. The girl opened her mouth to scream. Zoe simply rammed her hand into her mouth, tripping her and shoving her to the floor, and then swearing as the girl bit down on her fingers. She pulled it free, and Emma joined in helping to pin her down. "There are a lot of dangerous things in here," said Zoe, "that we could use to threaten you. So do I have to pick a specific one, or are you going to cooperate?" "Get off me! How did you get out? Help!" She managed to cry out once before Zoe grasped her around the throat. "What about this, then?" Zoe reached up onto the workbench, knocking over vials and flasks. She grabbed a heat gun - in the real world, it was used for burning paint away from walls. In a chemical laboratory, the scorching stream of air it emitted made for an excellent way to dry glassware. She thumbed the switch onto a low setting, a mere hundred degrees or so, and pointed it at the girl. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?" "I don't know," said Zoe. "Maybe I am. Maybe your drugs turned me into a psycho. Regardless, I don't think you have many options right now." Laura, apparently wanting to feel useful, pinned the girl's legs. Claire joined in after some encouragement, looking at Zoe expectantly. "You can't get out," the girl said. "You of all people should know how tight the security is here." She glanced nervously at the heat gun. "That's why you're going to help us," said Zoe. "Why would I-" "I don't have time for this," said Zoe. "Cooperate or not, your choice." The heat gun whined as she turned it to full power, and she played it back and forth across the girl's abdomen. A few loose threads on her clothes sizzled and curled up into black particles. "Wait, wait! Stop! The drugs I gave you, they were just saline solution! Helen wanted me to do it, but I couldn't! I- I'm on your side!" Zoe lowered the heat gun. "I know," said the girl, "I know now that she's a psychopath. I know the drugs weren't safe. That's why I didn't give them to you. Doesn't that count for something?" "Then why the fuck are you working for her in the first place?" said Zoe. "I didn't realise it would be like this! By the time she was asking me to do all that stuff I was in too deep, I mean, you were the same, right? I didn't know, swear to God! She told me it was research!" "Yeah," said Zoe. "I guess that does sound familiar." The girls relaxed their grip a little, but kept hold of her. "You really can't get out, though," she said. "And could you get off me now, please? I get it, four of you, one of me, I'm not going to try anything. But we don't need to all stay down here on the floor." Zoe couldn't help but notice she had glanced to the side, as if looking for something she could use to her advantage. "Let's be realistic," she continued. "You can run out through the garage, and get outside, and the attendants will come after you, and that will be the end. I don't know how you got this far, but if you grovel to Miss Stanford then perhaps she'll go easy on you. I'm not saying she'll let you off completely, but it might not be so bad. If they catch you running away? Then she really will use you to test drugs on. And nothing else, probably." "I wonder how many guards they have out there at night," said Emma. "Probably not many... and they couldn't use their dart guns in the dark." She looked up at Zoe. "Wouldn't it be convenient for us if they were somehow distracted?" "I know just the thing. You two, tie her to that chair." "Whatever you're planning won't work," the girl said. "Do the sensible thing, for your own sake." "Better gag her as well," said Zoe. "I'm just going to make up a little preparation here." She went over to a refrigerator and searched among its contents. Meanwhile, Emma shoved her down into the chair, and Laura looked around for something convenient to tie her up, finding a bundle of silicone tubes used for intravenous drips. The girl put up a reasonable fight, but at three against one, the outcome was already decided. "No no, wait!" she was saying, "I helped you out! I - I can help you! I can get you out of here!" "Says the girl who told us that was impossible about thirty seconds ago," said Zoe. "Yes, but there are other ways! If you would just listen-" Emma clamped her hand down over the girl's mouth. "I think we'll be just fine," she said. After a brief scuffle the girl was sitting still, wrists and waist constricted with the stretchy tubing, mouth packed with medical gauze that was held in place by more bandage wrappings. Zoe found what she was looking for in the refrigerator, and weighed out a tiny amount of white powder from a glass vial, diluting it with saline solution. She unwrapped a sterile syringe and needle, drew up the liquid, and dislodged the air bubble. Helen had never had Zoe actually administer the drugs to any of her victims, but she had a rough idea of what would work. "I'm afraid I'm no good at finding veins," she said. The girl was wide-eyed, shaking her head. "Mmmh! Mmmoh!" "So intramuscular will have to do." They wrestled with the girl's trousers until they were pulled down enough to expose the side of her buttock, and Zoe administered the injection. She loomed up close to the girl, smiling. "Buckle up," she said, "because you're in for one hell of an acid trip." "You mean like LSD?" said Claire. "Exactly," said Zoe. "The attendants are going to go after anyone who looks like they're escaping. I bet we can make her run pretty fast once she's tripping. Then we can get out while they're busy with her freaking out." Zoe hopped up onto the bench and sat down. "I don't know how long it'll take to set in, though." The girl had gone pale. A droplet of cold sweat ran down her face. She strained at her bonds, the elastic tubing coiled tight around her wrists. She looked at Zoe with pleading eyes. "Too late now," said Zoe. "Mmmh!" "What happens when we get out?" said Claire. "They'll realise something has happened. When they find that red-haired girl, with... well, you know. And once they realise Helen's missing... and what about the other girls? There are so many in here!" "We can't get everyone out tonight," said Zoe. "Even if we unlocked the doors using the computer system, most of them are tied up anyway. And they wouldn't get past the attendants. We can't save everyone." "We're just going to leave them?" "Zoe's right," said Laura. "It's crazy enough that we managed to get this far. We can't take any more risks." "They can cope with one or two more days," said Zoe. "The place will be in disarray anyway. Once we get out, we can tell someone about this place. And then it will be over." "But the attendants, you saw what they did to Helen. What if they do that to the other girls once nobody's in charge?" "They might," said Zoe, "that's a risk. But they might also just stick with '314', seeing as she's their official whore now. We really can't tell what's going to happen. Shit, maybe they'll all just go home when they realise nobody's in charge any more."That's a bit too much to hope for," said Emma. "Yeah, well. It's the best we're going to manage." They sat and watched as the girl reacted to the drug Zoe had given her. Administered by injection, the effects appeared fairly soon, and she started to look around the room not in fear, but in a sort of curious way. She tested her bonds not as if trying to get free, merely exploring the tactile sensation. She rolled her eyes about, pupils dilated. She blinked slowly at Zoe as she stooped over to come face-to-face with the girl. "BAD TRIP INCOMING!" Zoe yelled. The girl froze up, and Zoe ran over to the light switch. "Everyone else, I'd appreciate if you could help by just breaking things," said Zoe, "but obviously not any chemicals. Just do things that seem to make her upset." She flicked the lights on and off rapidly, knocking glassware off a shelf, conical flasks smashing loudly as they impacted with the floor. "It's demons!" she was shouting, "the demons are coming! Your brain's so fucked now you'll be tripping for a week! How do you like that!?" The girl seemed confused at first. Then, as Zoe's threats and taunts became more imaginative, her agitation increased, until she was squirming wildly, screaming through her gag as her mind seized on all the things Zoe was conjuring up and made them real. "Better run!" she shouted. "They're going to come for you! They're going to catch you!" It wasn't apparent who the girl considered "them" to be, but she seemed frightened all the same. "Carry her out that door," said Zoe, "that's where I used to get dropped off. There's a garage below us. Someone take her access card." Between them they maneuvered the girl out of the door. They cut her free, barely managing to keep hold of her - she seemed completely terrified, imbued with the adrenal strength of an intense fight-or-flight response that was commanding her emphatically to do the latter. Together they stumbled down the concrete stairs, and Claire, the only one not grappling the poor girl, opened the door. Cool night air rushed in. It felt amazing. Claire took a huge lungful, as if she had been saved from drowning. Fresh air. Outside air. Beside them, the hysterical girl kicked and whimpered, tears running freely down her cheeks. "Now run," said Zoe. "Or I'll eat your soul." She pulled the gag out of the girl's mouth, and she ran off, wailing maniacally. They saw her veer off to the right as she caught sight of something. The last they saw of her were her pale buttocks, still bared from when they had given her the injection, fading into the night as she fled from whatever she was hallucinating. A few moments passed, and then a male voice shouted "Hey! She's escaping!" "Get her!" "Another one? Christ." "What do you mean it doesn't have a night-vision scope!?" There were hurried footsteps, and cursing. Two attendants ran past the door as the girls peered through it, holding it cracked. The attendants were shouting to one another as they pursued the girl. Twenty yards away, the gate was visible, a black, wrought-iron silhouette against the starry sky. The guard post alongside it was vacant, a discarded Styrofoam cup lying nearby. Zoe's heart thumped in her chest. "Go!" They ran, welcoming the pain of gravel beneath their bare feet. Laura fumbled for the girl's access card, and swiped it across the card reader set in a pedestal near the gatepost. Motors whined as the gate creaked open. Voices shouted to each other from somewhere distant. "The gate! Who's opening the gate!?" The sound of the voices receded behind them as the girls fled, never looking back.

FF, MF, rape, bd, tort

32

Authors/Hoop/Incarceration/32_Final.txt

Mannheim Knot

Zaxan's Paradise 3: Molly's Mom

Zaxan did not seek another new female for a few days after his grand adventure with Cassandra. Over and over, he relived the perfect romantic moment he had shared with the brave and beautiful blonde co-ed. Zaxan, like any fourteen-year-old at the end of his first true romance, was quite certain that no one had ever felt quite the way he did in that moment. Perhaps no one had. No one with an empathic Denubian soul had ever shared such a moment with a human girl. He used techniques his father had taught him to let the memory burn its way deep inside of him to be kept forever. He would never forget either the physical sensation or the emotional impact of making love to Cassandra. Zaxan knew that he could never recreate the moment, and he would not try. Even if everything else was the same, Cassandra would not be there. So, when his sexual desires began to mount again, he decided that he must seek out a totally different adventure. Tierra would help. There seemed no limit to her clever schemes, and she had repeatedly expressed the desire to participate in any way possible. Tierra knew Zaxan's abilities to ensure that the girls were left happy in the end freed his partner-in-crime to exercise the dark impulses she had bottled up for so long. Neither the alien nor Tierra would leave a girl in pain when the day was done, but neither was squeamish about letting her experience a little along the way. Zaxan had originally tagged three girls in the mall: Tierra, Cassandra, and a little tween redhead that completely captivated him. When the time came for Zaxan to seek a new conquest, there was only the tiny redhead left. Of course, he could have gone and found a new girl anywhere on the planet, but the girl he'd tagged felt like unfinished business with him. He asked Tierra to offer suggestions. "What's her name?" Tierra asked. "No idea. Is it important?" "Well, it would make it easier to plan if I knew things about her." "Well, I know where she lives and goes to school, and we know that she regularly attends classes at the New Mexico Academy of the Dance." "Those are helpful, but I really want to know our little girl," Tierra said. She was hiding something from Zaxan, but he trusted her enough not to make her tell him. He just waited her out for a lengthier explanation. "Cassandra caught us flat-footed. Had we known what she was like, we could have set out to make her experience romantic from the beginning. There are probably things we should know about this new girl before we proceed." This was all true, but he sensed that none of it was what was really bothering Tierra. He let it lie. "Alright," he said. "But bear in mind that I don't want another grand romantic adventure. That belongs to Cassie." "You'll want another one someday, Heathcliff," Tierra said with a smile. "But I get what you mean." "No one is at the girl's residence right now," Zaxan offered. "Would you like to look around her home?" "No, a teenage girl has absolutely no desire to surreptitiously observe her family's home and discover all their dark secrets," Tierra said and tilted her head sideways. "This is sarcasm, right?" Zaxan was proud that he'd learned to detect this bizarre human trait. "You actually mean that you do want to surreptitiously observe her family." "A body like yours and brains, too," she said and smiled. "Whenever you look at me like that, we end up fucking," he said. "We always end up fucking," she replied and gave him the same smile. A devious thought occurred to Zaxan. "Not this time," he said. "But... but... you always want to fuck!" "Yes, I do, little pet, but you want it more. So, I think I'll enjoy the feeling of making you wait for it. And no self-pleasuring until I say so." "You're just doing this to remind me you're in charge!" she protested. "Yes. What do you think of it?" he asked. "I hate it... and it's hot as hell." "Good. Get in the transport tube... um, bitch." Tierra moaned in frustration, but her companion could sense that his refusal had spiked her desires. Zaxan wasn't sure whether he was merely taking advantage of the bond that enslaved her or if he had tapped into something that had been there all along. With beauty such as hers, Tierra had likely never been denied a boy's physical attentions when she had craved them. Zaxan couldn't get a clear reading on the matter by sensing her feelings either. Tierra hadn't even known she would react in this fashion. They materialized in the empty house. Zaxan had never actually been in a human dwelling before. He found it amazingly cluttered with gadgets and mementos. Their technology was nowhere near as compact as Denubian tech, so separate devices were needed for nearly every job in a household. And while Zaxan had actually kept Cassandra's shirt as an object to be cherished, he and Sarcon had few such objects in their home. In the end, he was glad that humans kept so many things, because each of them seemed to give Tierra some clue as to who the people were. "These people are pretty rich. Well, not loaded, this place isn't a mansion with servants or anything. Could you imagine what that would be like?" Zaxan had never bothered to tell Tierra that his father was one of the richest men on Denubis Prime. It just hadn't seemed important. "Tierra," he asked, "Are you poor?" Her skin flushed a little red, and she seemed almost angry with him. He could tell that she wanted to tell him something other than the truth, but couldn't do that when he'd asked directly. "Yes," she said quietly. "What difference does it make?" "None to me, but plenty to you, apparently." "Well, you never had your mom cancel your Quinceanera because it would cost too much money!" "I could pay for your Quinceanera, and I'll make sure I fix your poverty before I leave the planet." "You have our kind of money?" she asked. "Well, no, but I understand that gold is worth a great deal in your society."The desert area where I'm parked has huge deposits of it. I have mineral collecting equipment on board the shuttle. The robots can harvest it, and I can sell it. Would a hundred pounds do?" "I have no idea what that's even worth." "About 1.9 million dollars, but I would probably have to sell it for considerably less. If your society is anything like ours, that kind of transaction might require a license of some sort to be legal. I could still probably get you a little over a million by illegal means. Is that enough?" Tierra turned slightly pale for a moment. "Yeah," she said. "That would be okay. Just don't get caught." "Tana has finished creating a spray that utilizes the same chemicals as my semen," he explained and held up a shiny crystalline bottle. "I can get people to do what I want." "Sometimes you're scary, Zaxy." "I know," he said airily. "So this family is wealthy. What else?" "Mom's name is Regina Walken. Here's a picture." Tierra handed him a photo of a gorgeous woman in her late thirties. Zaxan was intrigued. He hadn't seriously pondered taking an adult woman, but Regina's appearance was very enticing. "Figured you'd like her," she said. "Regina has a wedding ring in her drawer, and the kids have pictures in their rooms with a dad in them, but Regina doesn't. There are no men's clothes in the master bedroom closet. The paperwork in the kid's bedroom lists their last name as Manihan. The parents are divorced, but the mom hasn't gotten over it yet." "I told you only three people lived here. Tana's scans can show me how many humans are in the house at any point. There are visitors at times, but only three sleep here at night." "Tana's a very handy computer. I don't suppose you could get me one like her?" "That would kind of shake things up a bit on your entire planet; sorry. What else do you know about the family?" "Big brother's name is Brett, and he is a cutie pie! I mean really good-looking. He's shorter than me, but really built. He's also apparently one of the best gymnasts in the state. He has all kinds of awards, and his letter jacket is covered with medals." "The girl worships him," Zaxan said with a nod. "I could see that at the mall." "Oh, good. Maybe we can use that," Tierra said, furrowing her brow in thought. "And the girl?" Zaxan asked. "Molly Erin Manihan is twelve years old and in the seventh grade. She has report cards from the last four years on her bulletin board. All A's--that's really good--except for one B+ last year; that's still a good grade. She wrote all over that report card in red marker. The B+ is circled, and then she wrote `STUPID BITCH' on it about twenty times." "What does that tell us about her?" Zaxan asked. He had an idea, but Tierra was so much more insightful with this sort of thing. "She's like a lot of girls her age," Tierra said, seeming to have intimate knowledge of the matter. "She really wants to be perfect and hates herself when she isn't. I bet she's the reason there's a little food scale in the kitchen. She's a dancer, and I'd bet she keeps crazy control over what she eats, either that or her mom does it for her. Sometimes it's the parent that pushes the kid really hard. Sometimes it's the kid." "And what did you push yourself that hard in, Tierra?" "At that age... basketball. I wanted to get my mom's attention. No matter how good I got, she didn't come to my games. Now, I run track and won't pick up a basketball." Zaxan felt Tierra's mood ebb. He wanted to move her away from this subject. "Tell me something happy about Molly Manihan." "She is kind of boy-crazy in the fun way. She left her computer up with no password to keep me off of it. She has tons of little `I think you're cute' kind of messages back and forth with boys. Doesn't seem like she's done anything much with any of them, but she does like boys in an innocent way." "That's good!" Zaxan declared. "And there's one more thing, Zaxy. She's got an open box of Kotex in her dresser drawer." Zaxan sensed that the information made Tierra feel like a large weight had been lifted off her chest. It had to do with what she had been hiding from him back in the shuttle. "That's even better," he said with a nod. "I have no idea why why, though." "She's maturing sexually. If she hadn't been... I still would have helped if you asked, but it would have been much harder for me. Now, there's grass on the infield... play ball!" Zaxan tried to piece the metaphor together, but utterly failed. Tierra laughed at him. "The grass is pubic hair," she explained. "Oh, so pubic hair being a sign of sexual maturity, it indicates that the girl is old enough for sexual intercourse. Very clever." He actually thought it was somewhat stupid. "Tierra, why did you mow the grass off your infield?" "Not for any sexual reasons. It makes me feel like I run faster in track." "Physics doesn't support that theory." "Yes it does, smarty-pants," she replied. "I said it makes me FEEL like I run faster. Baseball is ninety percent mental, and the other half physical." "You try to torture me with strange metaphors when you're sexually frustrated," he said. "Say, there's a big bed in the master bedroom," Tierra teased hopefully. "Let's go fuck in a stranger's house. I never thought of it before, but it sounds hot as hell." "It certainly does excite you," he said as he felt her arousal wash over him like warm water. "Perhaps when I decide you get to have sexual pleasure again we can try it." "Please, Zaxy!" "No more," he said softly. Then he teasingly added, "Horny little slut." He got the frustrated moan he was seeking. They both froze for an instant as they heard the whine and grind of an electric garage door opener. "Somebody's home!" Tierra hissed. "Tell Tana to beam us back. We don't have a plan yet." "Let's just make it up as we go along. You were only so gung-ho about a plan because you were trying to find out if the girl had grass on her infield, anyway. We'll just be friendly." He smiled, and Tierra realized she was safe with him there. Brett Manihan walked into the dining room and froze as he saw the two teenagers standing in his house and waiting for him. Brett was a very muscular boy, but Zaxan was ten inches taller than him with nearly the same build. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded. Zaxan could sense the fear building up within him, but like most human males, that made him more aggressive. "I'm Tierra, Molly's friend from Saint Agnes Middle School. She had to run upstairs for a minute. This is my cousin, Zak." Brett looked at Tierra for a long moment. "Bullshit," he said. "I saw you at the mall the day of the fight. Molls didn't know any of you kids." "You must have me confused with someone else," she said with a smile. "There are lots of Latina's in town, and we do tend to have black hair and brown eyes." "A guy doesn't forget a face like yours," he said. "Holy shit, that was a nice thing to say," Tierra gushed. "Even if you did sound mad when you said it, it was really sweet." "You guys are robbing the place!" he said and ran back into the kitchen. He returned with a large knife. Zaxan knew he was fast enough to get the knife away from the boy, but he didn't want to have to do that. He'd have to go full-speed and he might accidentally hurt Brett in the process. Zaxan could feel that Brett regretted waving the knife at the beautiful girl. He wasn't panicky enough to hurt Tierra if she didn't try and hurt him. "We're fucked, Tierra," Zaxan said as he pressed the crystal bottle into her hand. "Give it back to him." "Nice and easy," Brett said, holding out his hand. Tierra kept her distance and held the sparkling object out toward the boy. When she got closer, she pressed the nozzle and a cloud of compressed spray leapt out of it. Brett dropped the knife and stood with his mouth open for a second. Tierra retreated behind Zaxan. "Hey, Brett, my name's Zaxan. How about we become friends?" "What? Oh, sure, bud. Sounds cool. Hey, sorry about the whole knife thing. You guys scared me a bit." "Not a problem, Brett," Zaxan said in a friendly voice. "Hey, can I get you guys a brew? Mom still keeps a few in the downstairs fridge." "None for me, thanks. Tierra?" "No thanks. Not much of a drinker, cutie." She smiled and Brett smiled back. Zaxan felt the sexual attraction between the two of them. That made things even easier. "Say, what are you guys doing here anyway?" Brett asked. Zaxan felt no need to deceive his new friend. "Well, I'd like to fuck your mom and little sister." "H-m-m-m. No problem with Mom. She could probably use it. Hasn't even gone on a date since Dad left two years ago. But I'm afraid it's a no-go with Molls. Pretty sure she's not old enough to fuck." Zaxan wasn't surprised. The semen's effects were not much different on the male than it had been on the two females. There was an instant bond between Brett and Zaxan, and the human boy would do almost anything to please him. But he wouldn't completely violate his moral code. To Brett, sex with a physically immature girl was a very bad thing. He wouldn't peaceably accept that. "We know for a fact that there's grass on the infield, my friend," Zaxan replied. "Alright then... play ball!" Brett stepped forward and lightly punched Zaxan on the shoulder. "You dog!" Brett declared and grinned. Zaxan was confused. "It's how boys bond," Tierra whispered as she leaned up close to Zaxan's ear. "Oh," Zaxan said and punched Brett on the shoulder, knocking him to the floor. "You too are a dog!" he cried. "And you're apparently the big dog," Brett said as he massaged his shoulder. Tierra rushed to help him up.They ended up standing very close and facing each other. There was a long look between them. "Well, you two are obviously attracted to one another," Zaxan said fondly. "And I should make it perfectly clear to Tierra that I have no objections to her having sex with other humans. But not today. Tierra has to wait until I say so to get any sexual satisfaction." "Oh, that's too bad," Brett said. "For a minute there, I was thinking some weird fantasy thing was happening to me. Cool guy walks into my house and gives me a gorgeous girl to have sex with." "I never said I was going to have sex with you!" Tierra protested. "Would you if I gave permission?" Zaxan said and raised his eyebrow like humans did. "Yes, as long as he actually turns out to be as nice as he seems," she said, feeling quite embarrassed, but unable to avoid answering Zaxan truthfully. She turned to Brett to offer an explanation. "I'm not really like that with boys, but he's been sexually teasing and torturing me all day. I'm kind of going crazy right now, and you do seem really nice." "Soon enough, you two will have sex," Zaxan said. Both of them smiled. "In the meantime, I need to know when the two females are going to arrive home." "Oh, sure, Zaxer!" Brett said cheerily. "Mom should be home any minute. Molls doesn't get home for another hour-and-a-half. Clarissa's mom drops her off after dance class." "Why don't you go up to your room and show Tierra some of your gymnastics exercises? And don't leave the room unless Tierra or I tell you to. Besides, I'm sure watching you do movements that require strength and flexibility will distract her from thinking about you sexually." "I see you're picking up on sarcasm," Tierra groaned. "I learned from the best," Zaxan replied with a teasing grin. "That's not all you learned from the best," she said and flipped her beautiful hair over her shoulder as she took Brett's hand and pretended she didn't know where his room was. Zaxan flipped on the television and found a re-run of How I Met Your Mother. The sex comedy was making more sense to him every day. Besides, Tierra had told him that the actor who played the scheming Barney Stinson was from Albuquerque. The alien still couldn't figure out why Tierra had laughed when he'd commented that the actor probably got all kinds of girls. Regina Walken came in a few minutes later and dropped her keys to the floor when she saw the six-and-a-half foot teenager sitting calmly in her living room. "Where's my son?" she asked. "Upstairs, doing gymnastics with my friend, Tierra. I'm Zak, by the way." "Gymnastics?" the mother replied skeptically. "I swear it's true. Want me to call him down?" "Yes. I'd like to see him." Zaxan could sense that she wasn't going to be at ease until she knew her son was safe. "Hey Brett-ster!" he yelled, trying to sound like a typical human boy. "Your mom wants ya." Brett appeared at the top of the steps wearing only little shorts and a tank top. His muscles bulged and there was a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. Zaxan grinned. Poor Tierra must have been about ready to burst. "What's up, Mom?" "Who is this rather large boy watching television in my living room?" "That's my buddy Zaxer! He's the coolest. Talk to him. You'll like him." "Do you have a girl in your room, Brett?" "Yeah. But I'm just showing off some gymnastics. Zax said we shouldn't have sex." He turned and went back to his room. "Well, okay," she called after him, seemingly puzzled. She crossed nervously to Zaxan. "I get the girl upstairs. He's seventeen and handsome, so Brett does attract the occasional girl. Why are you here?" "I'm Tierra's friend, and I'm Brett's friend. I gave her transport here." "But then you told them not to have sex?" Zaxan found her confusion very amusing. "Exactly, Regina. If anyone in this house should be having sex, it's you." "What?" Regina's shock gave off some entertaining vibes as well. "You're a grown-up. Tierra's not quite fifteen. Her Quinceanera is next week." "You are a very strange young man." "You are a very beautiful young woman." Regina froze for an instant. She was flattered at the compliment. Zaxan could tell she found him attractive, even if she had no intention of initiating intercourse with him. But that passed as her mind soon took the compliment in a different way. "Oh, p-sh," Regina said and laughed. "You boys! You tease me almost as bad as Brett does. Young? I'm twenty years older than you." "That just gave the universe another twenty years to get it right," he said. "I was wrong. You are even more of a tease than Brett!" Apparently the son flirted with his mother on a regular basis. Zaxan had noticed that Brett did have a bit of a crush on his mother. It was all innocent; he had no incestuous intentions toward her. The boy just couldn't help noticing that his mother was a very sexy and sweet woman. "Can I get you a soda, Zak?" "Just water please. Caffeine is unhealthy, and sugar is bad for your teeth." He flashed a smile and gave her the `bedroom eyes' Tierra went on about. She was not unaffected. "Alright, just sit tight and I'll get you a water." Regina headed for the kitchen. She bent down to pick up her keys when she spotted them and realized that she had just shown her backside to the boy who was obviously trying to get her all worked up. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder and caught Zaxan in the middle of an appreciative stare. "Nice skirt," he said. She sent off a mix of emotional responses, embarrassment, amusement, arousal. Zaxan waited a few seconds and followed her into the kitchen. She turned from the fridge and dropped the bottle of water on the floor when she saw him in the doorway. "You keep scaring me!" "I really don't mean to," he said and looked to where the bottle had rolled behind her. "Want me to get that for you?" he asked. "Judging from the way you looked at me the last time I bent over, yes." He crossed and picked it up. He turned his head over his shoulder as he rose and caught her taking a look herself. "Dammit," she whispered in embarrassment, but again her sense of humor showed up. "Nice slacks," she said in a defeated tone. "You seem uncomfortable with the notion of us finding one another attractive," he said. "It's hardly appropriate, especially on my part." "What's inappropriate about it? I've reached the age of reason, and I'm hardly some unwilling child being coerced by a more powerful adult. And you're not married." "This is going a bit too far, Zak. Maybe you and Tierra should go." "Interesting that you modified it with `maybe.'" "It's just an expression." She was reeling a little bit. Zaxan was definitely getting to her. "But there are so very many expressions in the languages human beings use. Part of you chose that particular one for a reason." She stared at him for a moment. Zaxan felt desire in her, there was no doubt about that, but the longing he really felt from her was a different one. Zaxan had felt it himself. Since their females had become emotionless after the Betrayal, all Denubian males felt it. Regina was achingly, hopelessly lonely. "Are you honestly trying to suggest I'm contemplating having sex with a teenage boy I just met?" "Are you honestly trying to suggest that you're not?" He stepped up close to her, closing to what Tierra called `fuck or fight' distance. "No one wants to be alone, Regina. You've been alone too long. You're young and beautiful, but the right men haven't been asking. Let me in, Regina. Don't be lonely anymore." She was on the verge of tears. "Don't prey on me," she whispered. "Please, please, don't." "I know what it feels like to be lonely," he said and wiped away a single tear that had started to roll down her cheek. "And I know how good it feels to finally, finally have someone in your life to make the feeling go away." He kissed her neck and nipped at her earlobe. "Please..." "Lots of ways you could have said no. `Please' isn't one of them." He kissed her full on the lips and pressed her back against the refrigerator. He began to pull her skirt up with his right hand. "Brett's right upstairs." "Then we won't go upstairs." He continued to pull at her skirt, but brought his other hand to her breast. His hips kept her pinned to the fridge. "Regina, you know how good a nice hard fuck would feel right now. You know how good it would feel to be taken by someone who desires you." "This is so wrong!" she squeaked. "And I've heard enough things from you that didn't mean no," he said and spun her so that she was bent over the counter. "I'm going to be rough, Regina, but I really do like you." He hiked up her skirt and pulled her pantyhose down past her knees. She awkwardly kicked off her pumps and worked her way out of the hose. Zaxan had deftly dropped his slacks and boxers. He grabbed a handful of the short curly hair in her ever-so-appropriate-for-the-office do. He did not pull it hard, merely asserted his command of the situation. He rubbed his shaft up and down the length of her slit a few times to open her up. There was fear and shame in her, that he could sense, but there was also intense arousal and a sense of relief that the decision had been made for her. The one thing she didn't have time to feel in the moment was loneliness. He pushed into her. He felt the shock as she realized that he was very big. But he also felt the thrill of it. She had desired this ravishment. What woman in that hungry state of mind wouldn't want the job to be done by a man who was well-endowed? She groaned as he went deep, deep inside. She was a small woman.It filled every bit of her. Then, when he paused for a second, she caught her breath. She had no doubt what was to come. Zaxan, certain he was securely set inside her, let loose. He was very fast and powerful. He took his free hand and wrapped it around her waist so that her hips weren't banging into the counter. It was the only mercy he gave her. Again and again he drove into her, eliciting moans and even curses. Eventually her vocalizations turned into a steady wail. He could sense that she was nearly overwhelmed by the raw power and speed he displayed. There was a sense of wonder coming from her. She hadn't known that sex could be this, and even if she had known she would have feared to allow it. But she was somehow helpless to resist this boy that had pushed her every button. Having yielded to his animalistic passion, she could only desire more. So, when his big hand came out of her hair and down across the side of her buttocks, she thrilled to the force of it. When his long fingers pinched her nipples through her work blouse, she worked a hand to the opening at the neck and tore her own buttons off for him. When he peeled the blouse off of her shoulders, it was her own hand that finished the job and threw it to the floor. When he leaned up over her shoulder, she clutched at his head and craned her neck to place hot kisses on his lips. After her sex began to clench and quiver in orgasmic release, she found her voice and became the one to first use the words to describe what was happening between them. "Oh, beautiful boy, I am your bitch." Zaxan felt the sense of freedom the words gave her. She had never uttered them before, but in doing so, she had freed herself from shame. Shame belonged to controlled moments, and for the first time she had yielded every ounce of control in her soul. "You are beautiful, Regina," he said as he slowed for a moment to let her catch her breath. "Call me Reggie. I haven't been called that since high school," she said in a whisper tinged with girlish glee. "I'm not done with you, Reggie," he said in a soft but commanding voice. "Grab that jar of oil. Lie face down on the big counter in the middle of the kitchen and wait for me." He could tell that she knew what the command meant, and her hand trembled as she reached for the oil. In her nervous state, she knocked the food scale from the counter, and it smashed on the floor. He felt a sense of satisfaction from her. "Molly really doesn't need that, poor little thing," she whispered. Zaxan was pleased to know that this beautiful woman wasn't the one measuring out the girl's food. He left the room, confident of what he would find when he returned. He was gone less than a minute, but he did not come back alone. He entered the room and found Regina lying face-down on the island counter, completely naked with the jar of oil next to her head. "Reggie," he said, his voice filled with command. "You're free now to enjoy the pleasures you've never dared experience before. This is Tierra. She's going to help us." "Zak, I'm not sure..." "Enough, Reggie. This beautiful girl is going to help you get ready for me. She is allowed to do anything she wants to you, but you are not to pleasure her in return." Tierra groaned in frustration. Regina nodded slowly. "There's my good little bitch," he added. Tierra looked at him and waited for instructions. "You said you had dark impulses, Tierra. Don't be gentle. I'm not going to be gentle when I put my cock in her ass. Prepare her for that." Zak crossed to the kitchen table and sat in a chair and silently watched to see what Tierra would do. Tierra stared at Regina for a moment. The girl knew she would obey Zaxan, but she also knew that she stood on a precipice. Her life was moving in a new direction. Her dark desires lay open to her now. She was about to find out what they really would allow her to do. "Look at this horny little bitch tremble, Zak. Is it fear or anticipation? I wonder." Tierra crossed to Regina. "She does have a sweet ass, doesn't she?" Tierra spanked her hard. Regina cried out but did not move. "Oh, this is a firm, tight little ass. Beautiful to see," she said, and then ran her hand over it. "Beautiful to touch. Beautiful to own. I bet Zak likes owning this ass. He's gonna stuff his big cock right up in there, too." "I know," Regina moaned. "Oh, and that's scary so you'd rather have him just do it right now, so you knew how much it was going to hurt, so you knew how much of a slut you'd feel like when a teenage boy is fucking your ass." "Please," Regina squeaked. "I bet you say please a lot," Tierra said. "Roll over." Regina rolled to her back. "Look at me, Regina," she said as she grabbed the woman's hair. "I'm a fourteen-year-old girl, and you're just starting to realize that you want me to touch you here," she said and massaged Regina's bare breast and then sucked on it. "And you want me to kiss your mouth. Is that okay, Zak?" "I'll stop you if you get too close to being satisfied," he said. Maybe he would. It depended on his mood at the moment. Tierra kissed Regina and pinched her breasts roughly. Regina squirmed, but did not try to fight her off. Tierra, still fully clothed, climbed up on top of the counter and pinned Regina down. She sucked and nipped at the woman's breasts and then kissed her passionately. "I want you to be free, like Zak says you are, Reggie," she whispered. "You're beautiful, but your ex-husband did a number on you, so I have my doubts if you're really as free as Zak thinks. Do you want to be free from your ex?" Regina wept, and Zaxan's head reeled from the unbridled emotions Tierra was tapping into now. "Yes, I want to be free from him," Regina said with a slight sob. "You're making a good start. You're letting me pleasure you and tease you. But if you really want to be free, you have to know in your mind that it isn't Zak that's making this happen, and it sure isn't me. It's you. You're the one that wants this to happen. Say it." "I want this," Regina groaned and reached her hips up to where Tierra straddled her. Zaxan felt the strain in Tierra's mind as she fought the urge to grind back down on the woman and gain some satisfaction. "Do you want to take it further than you ever imagined you would?" the girl asked her. "Yes, Tierra!" "Then every time it hurts, every time it should be humiliating, turn your pain and shame into a statement of freedom. You've always been the good level-headed girl. Be the passionate slut. Are you the slut, Reggie?" "I'm the slut!" she whimpered. "I want to be the slut." "Good," Tierra said and spat in her face. Zaxan felt Regina's internal wrestling match between shame and desire, but it was brief and ridiculously one-sided. "Again, please, Tierra," Regina whispered. "Slut," Tierra said and spit in her face again. This time, Tierra licked it clean. She kissed her way down Regina's neck and slid backwards toward the end of the counter. She hovered her mouth over Regina's breasts, and pretended to move in on them a few times. Regina arched her back to offer them to the girl, but Tierra never took them. Instead, she slid down off the end of the counter and pulled Regina until her bottom was at the very edge of the counter. Tierra began to finger her roughly, and slapped gently on Regina's clit. Regina cried in ecstatic pain. Zaxan noticed that Tierra was rough, but not vicious. "Is this going to make you cum, little slut?" Tierra asked as she continued pumping two fingers into Regina. "Yes! Yes! Oh, yes!" Regina answered urgently. Zaxan knew that Regina desperately wanted Tierra to keep doing what she was doing. Tierra could sense it, too. That's precisely why she stopped doing it. "Roll back over, Reggie, and don't you dare whine about not cumming. You don't deserve to cum yet." Regina whimpered as she scooted back up onto the counter and rolled over. Tierra leaned her long body over the counter and stuck her tongue in Regina's ass. Regina squirmed in pleasure. "I'm only fourteen, and I'm a girl, and I keep sticking my tongue in your ass. But you like it. What kind of woman are you, Reggie?" "Free," she whispered. "Good slut," Tierra said, and tongued her again. She broke off after a long moment. "You are a very good little slut, Reggie," she said and tongued her a third time. "You deserve to cum, but I'm not going to make you cum without Zak's permission. Zak?" "Bitch can wait," he said casually and felt the frustration build in Regina. It was far worse than anything he'd put Tierra through that day. "Set her up." Tierra left Regina's backside for a moment, but made sure she landed a good hard smack on her ass before she did so. Zaxan almost winced from it. Tierra had really let her have it. "Please," Regina said through a few tears, "again, Tierra." Tierra let her have another one. "Freaky thing, isn't she, Zak?" Tierra said as she opened the bottle of oil. "She's been holding a LOT in. Of course taking your cock up her ass involves holding a lot in, too. God, that's gonna hurt, Reggie. But you like that. Don't you?" Regina whimpered a little. "Answer me, slut!" "I think I like the pain a little," she said. "You think? Well, you're going to know for sure pretty damned soon," Tierra said as she poured oil directly on Regina's tight little bud. Tierra pressed two of her fingers into the oiled opening and pumped them furiously as Regina wailed and repeated the one word she could find, "Please!" Tierra reached up with her other hand and grabbed the far shorter woman's hair. She bent Regina to her and kissed her passionately as she continued pumping fingers into her ass.Regina's muffled wails were pitiful, but they were so laced with cravings that Zaxan could hold back no longer. He rose and crossed to the counter. When he clambered up onto the counter with her, leaving his slacks and boxers behind, Reggie attempted to rise up to her knees and offer him whatever he would take. He pushed her hips down flat to the surface. She did not protest, just reveled in how awful all this would have seemed to her fifteen minutes ago. "Such a sweet girlish ass, Reggie," he said. "I'm your bitch, Zak. Take it. You'll be the first." Zaxan lined his shaft up to the hole and pushed forward. Oil or no, it took a good long time to work his way all the way inside her. She moaned and wept, but he could feel her thrill to it, too. When his hips finally pressed firmly to her backside, she sobbed a little, but nodded repeatedly. He drew back, but didn't begin to swing into her with force. He was experiencing something new as well. He'd held off doing this with Tierra. He'd wanted to save something new he could share with her on his final night. Thrilling to the new experience, he took his time. Each time he pulled back, he let his weight take him back down into her, creating an agonizingly slow penetration for both of them. When neither of them could stand it for one second more, he began to pick up speed. He wrapped his long hands around her hips, and left his fingertips beneath her so that he wasn't grinding her hipbones into the surface. "Work your clit, Reggie," he commanded. "Work it hard!" "This is the hottest thing I have ever seen!" Tierra whispered, but fell to silence when Zaxan gave her a hard look. She crossed to him and kissed his back over and over as he took the desperate housewife to new levels of agony and ecstasy. Regina had some difficulty getting her hand beneath her, but the greasy mess the oil had left on the counter helped. Her oily hand and the stimulation of having his cock moving rapidly in and out of her bottom drove the modest mother to a frenzy. She screamed in ecstasy. She had grown as accustomed as she could to the big invader, and the lingering bit of pain only fed the wildness she was feeling burst forth from inside herself. Then, Zaxan felt her find yet another new level of wonder when his cock began to twitch more and more rapidly as the vibratory phase of his Denubian ejaculation took hold. By the time he was finished with his lengthy ejaculation process, she had had both a second and a third climax. The two climaxes so close together left her utterly spent. She literally could not move. He felt the effects of his alien semen begin to take hold. She wanted desperately to be held, but was unable to reach for him. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to her room. He ran a bath for her and placed her in the tub. When he released her, her arms at last found the strength to clutch at him. "I'll be right back, Reggie," he reassured her. "I have to help Tierra clean up the kitchen before Molly gets home." "Whatever you think is best, Zak." He kissed her and smiled. "Zak? What the hell happened down there?" "Most of it was just you finding out who you really were inside. The rest is a long story, but you'll find it very interesting." She looked down at the water and then back to him. "Is your cum purple?" "Lavender," he said. "And it tastes like cinnamon gum. When I come back, maybe I can give you some without oil and bath soap in it." "Straight from the source?" she asked, and then giggled girlishly. "You're right," she said, "I am still young." "And beautiful," he said and closed the door. Zaxan and Tierra cleaned up the oily mess in the kitchen. They gathered up the clothes, but decided to leave the broken scale right where it was. He was picking up Tierra's ability to create devious schemes. The scale might just play right into his new plan for Molly. He had picked up a flash of resentment toward someone in the fleeting moment Regina had thought about the scale. Zaxan put it all together. Tierra had only considered the mother and child as being possible suspects in the case of the food scale. The child had another parent, and sometimes the absent parent has a deeper impact on a young psyche than the one who stays. What Denubian male hadn't experienced a longing to be loved by his emotionless mother? Their two races weren't so different after all. On the way back upstairs, he dropped Tierra off in Brett's bedroom. "Brett, your mom's ass is fantastic! And she loves having it fucked!" "Huh, who'd'a thunk that? Is she happy, buddy?" "I can guarantee you she is," Tierra said. "Zaxy makes all the girls happy." "I do like to make girls happy," Zaxan said with a smile toward his first love slave. "You were very good down there, Tierra. You and Brett can fuck each other's brains out now. Be done and dressed by the time Molly gets home." "Thanks, dude!" Brett said moving toward Tierra. Tierra was gone from the bed by the time he got there. "THANK YOU!" she squealed as she took Zaxan's face in her hands and kissed him. She then turned and rushed back toward Brett. Zaxan closed the door and took a few steps toward Regina's bedroom. A thought suddenly occurred to him. He wheeled back around and opened the door. "You do get that the whole `brains out' thing was only a meta-" He was cut off by Tierra flinging Brett's tank top in his face. "We get it!" she squealed. Zaxan shrugged and closed the door. He told Regina the whole story and even about his plans for her daughter. As much as he desired the beautiful little redhead, he would forego it if Regina protested. Everyone seemed to be at least a little worried about it, and he could be in the wrong. Regina thought about it for a bit. "She's already having periods, but she's a complete innocent. Not even sure she's ever been kissed... maybe she has. I guess the question I have for you is this. Will my little girl feel this happy after you're done?" "Yes, Reggie. She absolutely will." "And you say that when you go away we'll still be fond of you, but it won't break our hearts?" "Yes." "Make my little girl happy, Zak. She looks like a silly, carefree child, but she is so, so sad inside. Her dad did a number on her, and on me. No girl is ever quite good enough for him. Make my baby feel good, even if it's only for a little while." "I intend on making her happy for a lot longer than that, but you'll have to trust me. Here's the plan...." He detailed out a long and somewhat strange plan, but in the end Regina understood it, and Zaxan could feel the hope in her heart. A little while later Molly Erin Manihan came home from ballet class. She was a vision of youthful perfection in her pink tights, black leg warmers and white leotard. She passed halfway through the kitchen before she spotted the broken object on the floor. In a rage, she threw her bag on the floor and picked up the largest piece of the broken plastic casing. She heard the TV playing loud music and headed for the living room. Slunked down in the big easy chair was a male form. He was wearing Brett's favorite Rockies baseball cap. Beautiful little Molly flung the piece of her broken scale right at the back of his skull. "Brett, you fucking asshole!" she screamed. "You broke my god-damned scale! Again!" In horror Molly saw a giant rise from the chair. He was almost a foot taller than the boy she thought she had just assaulted. He was rubbing the back of his head. "I am so, so sorry," the ballerina squeaked, her voice altered more from shame than even the fear she felt as she took in the size of the boy she had just drilled with a chunk of broken plastic. "I thought you were Brett." "It's okay, Molly," the huge boy said with a bit of a chuckle. "It's my fault the scale got broken. Brett's upstairs with our friend Tierra, and your mom is coming back down in just a minute. I was waiting here to apologize to you. I was fooling around in the kitchen. I'm sorry I broke the scale. I'll get you a new one since it's obviously very valuable to you." He had recently mastered sarcasm, but there was not a trace of it in his voice when he called the object valuable. "My name's Zak. Please tell me you'll accept my apology." He moved to her and extended his hand. When Molly took it, she thought his fingers might reach up to her elbow. Wanting to maintain her dignity, but still slightly terrified, she managed to squeak out. "It's not that valuable. It's alright. Your apology's enough." "That's sweet of you," he said and looked down at her with eyes that made her want to melt into a puddle. She was pretty damned sure he somehow knew exactly what she was feeling. "Brett told me had the prettiest little sister in Albuquerque. It's nice to know my friend isn't a liar." Molly Erin Manihan stared up at him with her big blue eyes, and her bottom lip quivered. She felt like her whole life was about to change.

Alien, dominance/submission, teen male/female, teen female/female, anal

Authors/Mannheim_Knot/Young Girl Stories/Young SF and Mind Control Stories/Zaxan 3 (mF, fF, ds, Alien).txt

Mannheim Knot

Zaxan's Paradise 4: Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer

Zaxan looked down at the beautiful face nearly a foot-and-a-half below his. He could sense the infatuation the wide-eyed innocent had building up inside her, but he also saw the quiver in her bottom lip and felt her fear. He gently reached up and put a finger below her lip. He focused on his emotional memories of his father's fondness for him. No male parent in the universe displayed more fondness and pride in his offspring than Sarcon. With a little work, Zaxan could channel his father's behaviors and attitudes and direct them toward Molly. When he spoke to the frightened girl, he even sounded like Sarcon. "Don't tremble like that, little beauty. I would never hurt you." "I-I just hit a total stranger in the head with a scale and cussed him out," she said in horror. "You must think I'm the biggest bitch in the universe." "I'd like it if you didn't throw any more things at me, but I don't hold being emotional against people. I actually like a girl who is extremely... passionate." He knew what an incendiary word that was. "I'm a redhead," she said, scarcely able to breathe as the handsome, and oh so very big, boy looked at her with kindness and a trace of desire in his eyes. She couldn't stand up to the gaze and turned away slightly. "You talk like you're a grown man or something, but you're what? Brett's age?" "Far closer to your age, Molly. I'm barely fourteen. I guess I have a fatherly manner, though." She turned to face him again and dared to look back into his eyes. If he was barely fourteen, then he was less than a year-and-a-half older than her. Zaxan could feel that for just a moment she dared to dream of being his lover. Then, she caught herself. Her mood changed suddenly. A wave of hatred struck Zaxan, but it wasn't directed at him. The girl hated herself with such a destructive passion that it spilled outward and washed over him. "I'm sorry I can't be what you think I am, Zak," she said and fled the room in tears. Zaxan was neither surprised nor overly concerned by her emotional outburst. Tierra and Regina had warned him that playing the `father card' in combination with barely concealed desire would push all kinds of buttons in the girl. With all that coming on top of her mortifying behavior when first meeting him, Molly was bound to become overwhelmed. Zaxan considered his possible actions. He could go force himself on the girl, and then attempt to help her after she had bonded to him. He had no squeamishness about raping her. It was what Denubians did with most of their female conquests, and he also knew the euphoric state she would be in after his semen was absorbed into her bloodstream. Plus, there was immediate sexual satisfaction for Zaxan there. But somehow that struck Zaxan as a bad idea. The chemical bonding didn't magically fix every problem in a human's life, and it certainly wouldn't do anything to make the girl's `daddy issues' clear up. She would still hate herself because the only father she had ever known constantly reminded her that she didn't measure up to his expectations, and she bought into his view of things. As far as Zaxan's sexual cravings went, both Tierra and Regina were right there in the house with him. Either female, or both together, could satisfy his needs if they became urgent. Zaxan would stick to the plan. He would get Molly to see him as both an approving father figure and the smitten fourteen-year-old boy he actually was. He could go to Regina or Brett for help, but he knew that their efforts had been ineffective to date. The mother tried to help Molly see how wonderful she was, but her reassurances couldn't alleviate the girl's desperate need for her father's approval. Brett, as far as Regina could tell, was both a joy and a torture to Molly. She adored her big brother, and he gave her nothing but affection and adoration in return. But Molly also resented the manner in which Brett seemed oblivious to what she really felt. He was a blithe soul, the apple of his father's eye, and had never had to work for the paternal fondness Molly hopelessly desired. Molly alternated between wanting to be just like her big brother and wanting to belt him in the back of his head with the nearest blunt instrument. Zaxan had one other ally in the house, and she was by far the best option. Tierra had identified the self-loathing and the relentless pressure the girl was under before they had ever met. When investigating the house, Tierra had spotted the food scale and a report card with a lone B+ amid a sea of A's.Molly had defaced the report card by circling the B+ and repeatedly scrawling the words "Stupid Bitch" in red marker. Tierra confessed that she had been much the same at Molly's age, desperate for her disinterested mother's attention. If anyone here understood Molly, it was probably Tierra. Zaxan found Brett and Tierra kissing in Brett's room. The aroma of sex still hung in the air, the couple having just finished a long-delayed fuck before Molly arrived. Tierra had a happy gleam in her eyes, and Brett wore a somewhat stunned grin on his handsome face. "You told me I would still be able to enjoy fucking human boys," she said to the alien. "But I never quite believed it since I hadn't ever enjoyed it all that much before. But I really did like it with Brett." She turned to Brett. "I never liked a human boy nearly as much as I like you," she said sincerely. "But you understand that I'm still under Zaxan's thrall." "I totally get it," Brett said with a nod. "Zaxer's the man!" Zaxan couldn't help but like the good-natured boy, and despite coming from very different backgrounds the couple in front of him fit together very nicely. "You two may seek a romantic relationship or passionate encounters as you wish, but I still reserve the right to have Tierra as my concubine when I desire her." "Sounds cool, Z," Brett said with another quick nod. "Aliens with benefits, man!" Zaxan looked at his co-conspirator, his first lover, and a passionate beauty worthy of songs and praise. "Friends with benefits as well," he said. "Tierra is my invaluable friend." Tierra launched herself from the bed and wrapped Zaxan in an embrace. "I love you, too, Zaxy!" she squealed. "I'm happy to be your friend." Then she paused and looked up at him. "So, why are you talking like a middle-aged English professor?" "I'm using emotional recall of my father's feelings for me but focusing them on Molly." "You're trying to become her daddy?" Tierra asked, not quite sure where that would go. "Not quite. I'm also going to screw her brains out," he said in his normal voice. "Brett, your little sister is really fucking hot." "Dude, I know. I hardly bring the guys over to the house anymore because I'm afraid one of them will try and fuck her. She likes older guys, too. But none of my buddies can pump her full of purple happy juice when they cum. They'd just make her cry in the end." Brett's normally smiling face took on a serious expression. "I'm trusting you, Zax. Don't hurt my baby sister." "I won't," he replied in the same earnest tone. "I need your help. Here's what you have to do..." A few minutes later, Zaxan sat outside Molly's bedroom door. He could hear her softly weeping within. He genuinely meant well with this girl, but his alien mind also found it fascinating to be near so much raw emotion. Denubian males had all the same emotions as humans, just never to the same degree. The terror of a girl who was being raped, the aching loneliness of a sexually repressed divorcee, the self-loathing of an adolescent girl whose father told her she wasn't good enough, each of these fed Zaxan's need for powerful emotion and thrilled him nearly as much as the romantic ecstasy of a college girl finding love at the end of what she believed was a death-defying escape from alien captivity or the frenzied lust of a thirty-something mother who had just unleashed her repressed sexual desires for the first time in her life. Zaxan wanted Molly to find peace within herself, but he would happily taste every moment of either joy or sorrow along the way. For the first time in his life, Zaxan was experiencing all the drama that belonged to a family of beings who were part of a truly passionate species. Brett and Tierra looked down at him and waited for him to give them the go-ahead. He gave it, and they knocked on the door. "Molls, it's Brett. My new girlfriend really wants to meet you." "It's not a good time, Brett. I'd love to meet her tomorrow." "Oh, come one, Molls," Brett said, opening the door. "It'll just take a minute." Zaxan felt Molly's apprehension and suppressed anger, and his keen hearing allowed him to hear her quickly shifting her position as the door opened. "Hi, Molly, I'm Tierra." "I'll just leave you two to get acquainted," Brett said and quickly retreated, pulling the door shut behind him. He gave a hopeful thumbs-up to Zaxan and went downstairs to start the family supper. Zaxan listened in as Tierra went to work. "Hey, sweetie, I'm sorry to intrude on your privacy, but I think we're going to be seeing a lot of each other, so I thought I should get to know you." "You're Brett's girlfriend?" "Yes, we just decided that a little bit ago." "My brother's a great guy, and you're really pretty. I hope you're happy together." Zaxan could sense that Molly was trying very hard to make a good impression. She had already had one disastrous moment with one of Brett's new friends. "So I heard you met Zak," Tierra said brightly. It was too much for Molly. She couldn't even deflect the question with a simple yes. As Zaxan had hoped, Molly broke down. It was more than just a delicious taste of her emotions. It was helpful in executing the plan. He could hear the bedsprings creak as Tierra sat down next to the younger girl and took her in her arms. "Oh, Molly, what's wrong?" "I hit him with something. I thought he was Brett, and I was mad at Brett and wanted to hit him with it. Then Zak gets up, and he's so big and so handsome and really, really sweet about the whole thing, but he has to think I'm the brattiest little bitch in the whole world!" "All that happened just now?" Tierra asked. Zaxan had withheld it from Tierra so that she would have a more honestly surprised reaction, and because he thought it would be kind of funny. Tierra would probably be mad about it. Humans didn't usually get Denubian humor. "And that's why you're upset?" Zaxan guessed the younger girl must have been nodding in reply to Tierra. The older girl continued. "The funny thing is that when Zak told Brett he'd just met you, all he said was that you were... I don't know if I should say it." "Please, Tierra! Please tell me!" "He said you were, and I quote, `fucking hot.'" Zaxan could feel a wellspring of hope in Molly, and a touch of the same fear she had had at the idea of actually getting together with him. Then came the self-doubt. It followed nearly every other emotion the girl felt. "He was just joking or something, Tierra. Maybe he was too embarrassed to tell Brett what an awful person his little sister is." "No, Molly. I know Zak better than anyone in the world. He meant it." "Well, even if Zak thinks I'm hot, he still probably thinks I'm crazy." "Either that or he thinks you're passionate," Tierra explained. "He loves girls who let their feelings out." "He said almost the exact same thing, Tierra! I thought he was just being nice." "Molly, is it hard for you to admit that he might actually like you? I mean, he acts like he's a grown-up sometimes, but he's really only a little older than you." "But he's so big!" "Size shouldn't really matter. I mean, I'm two inches taller than Brett, but he doesn't care, at least I hope not. I'd hate to get dumped for being too tall." "He's not going to dump you for that, Tierra. You're gorgeous!" "And so are you, Molly... and... he'd give me a hard time if he ever heard me say it, but so is Zak." "Oh god, is he ever!" Molly squealed. "So, you're attracted to Zak, and he thinks you're fucking hot. Let's not let the size thing get in the way." Tierra said it as if the matter was resolved. Zaxan sensed a bit of suspicion building up in Molly. "You and Brett are setting us up, aren't you?" Zaxan hadn't realized that Molly would catch on so quickly, but he sensed that the question hadn't thrown Tierra at all. "Of course we are," she said. "Brett adores you, and Zak is my best friend. We'd love to do the whole double date thing, or even just hang around together with you guys." "You'd hang around with a twelve-year-old?" Molly asked in disbelief. "If it was you." The warm feeling of being accepted by a new friend came from both girls in the room, and Zaxan closed his eyes and savored it. "Do you know how Zak likes girls to dress?" Molly asked quietly. "Well, what you have on is going to give any guy a hard-on, but I suppose you're not going to wear your dance gear to supper. Let's see what you've got in the closet. Zak's kind of the fatherly type. Do you have anything that kind of says you're really innocent but still want his attention?" "I AM really innocent but still want his attention!" Molly said and giggled right after. It had been nearly two minutes since her last bout of self-loathing. Zaxan considered it progress. He left the girls alone and went down the hall to visit Regina. There was nearly an hour until supper, and Zaxan wanted to take the edge off of his desire for Molly. His plan didn't call for him to fuck his little ballerina yet tonight. Besides, Regina had seemed so eager to please him again. She said it made her feel twenty years younger. Who was he to deny her that thrill? She'd certainly provided him with plenty of them. Supper was an interesting experience for Zaxan. First of all, there was Molly in her simple white dress with tiny pink flowers. It did all the things Tierra and the little redhead had hoped it would do. It spoke of her innocence, yet it demanded his attention. But the rest of the meal was also fascinating. Zaxan only took the necessary time to consume his daily meal in the solitude of the shuttle. Denubians didn't consider eating to be a social act.So, while he had carefully studied the etiquette surrounding human dining, this was his first time at a human table, consuming human food. Regina complimented him on his table manners while giving Brett a sidelong look. Brett promptly removed his elbows from the table. While his hosts were more emotional than Denubians, their food was considerably less spicy. Zaxan ate a small portion of Brett's pasta with Alfredo sauce. Since the scouts that had explored the planet for Zaxan's father had warned him that he needed to avoid alcohol at all costs, he refused Regina's offer of wine. The drink must not have had the same potent effect on humans, since Regina allowed even tiny Molly to have a small portion. Regina seemed surprised that the lusty boy turned down alcohol. "I noticed before, Zak, that you preferred water to soda. Are you a bit of a health food nut?" Regina had thrown him for a second. `Health food nut' were three words that hadn't appeared together in the linguistics database, and Tierra had never introduced him to the phrase. "Zak obviously takes good care of his body," Tierra said, covering for him. "But I've known him to pound pizza like a madman." Zaxan made a note of that, too. Someone pounding on pizza would seem like a madman, but why would Tierra tell them that Zaxan did it? His education was sorely lacking in some respects. "He sure does take good care of his body, Tierra," Regina said and didn't bother to hide the innuendo. "Mother!" Molly cried in shock. "No more wine for you," she scolded and then laughed gently. Zaxan caught the girl dart her eyes toward him for a few seconds, but she turned back to her salad without commenting. "I noticed, Molly, that you haven't had any bread or Pasta ala Brett," Zaxan observed. "Wheat allergies?" "No," she said. "I just have to watch what I eat." "Why?" the alien asked. "So I don't get fat." "Oh, is your father rather heavy?" he asked. "No, he's built kind of like Brett," she said, not seeing where this was leading. "Well, then it seems illogical for you to think you're likely to get fat from small portions of tastier foods. Your father and brother are fit. Your mother's figure is quite fetching, and your build is essentially perfect." Molly reacted in mild shock. She couldn't believe Zak had just dropped that in front of her mother. Hell, he'd dropped part of it right on her mother. The little redhead was lost as to what to do or say. "You're very sweet, Zak, thank you," Regina said and smiled warmly. Molly decided to follow her example. "Thanks, Zak, that was really nice." She looked with longing at the steaming bowl of pasta and the rich Alfredo. "But I'm a dancer." "Didn't realize that could make you fat," Zaxan said. "Seems almost like the exercise would have the opposite effect. It certainly has so far." "Could we please talk about something other than my body?" Molly asked, turning bright red. "Yes, of course," Zaxan replied. "Your eyes sparkle like sunlight reflected through an angel's halo." Molly turned to him in disbelief. He chuckled. "Sorry. That one was just to get you wound up. I'm not even sure it made sense." Molly chucked him on the shoulder and smiled. Zaxan decided that punching her back wouldn't be part of the bonding process like it had been with her brother. "Your eyes are pretty, though," he added softly. He felt that one warm her all the way down to her toes. "Tierra's eyes are really pretty, too," Brett said, "and her body's killer." Everyone else was silent for a moment. "Just figured it ought to get mentioned," he said with a shrug. Tierra kissed him on the cheek. She then looked at Molly and winked in a manner that seemed to say, "THAT'S how you take a compliment!" Molly nodded. "Brett," Regina asked, beginning one of the conversations Zaxan had wanted them to have, "history mid-term?" "B-minus. I screwed up the matching, but I nailed the essay on the Hoot-Smalley Tariff." "Well, you did okay. History is hard for you, honey. We can't all be as academically gifted as our little Molly." Molly snorted at Regina's compliment, and it prompted an immediate response from Brett. "Come off it, Molls. You've gotten straight A's your whole life. You're a genius or something." "I haven't gotten straight A's my whole life," Molly snapped. Catching herself, she added, "Thanks for saying I'm smart, you guys." "I get good grades, but they're not as important as learning from your studies," Zaxan said in his fatherly tone. "I've sometimes learned the most from classes in which I got lower grades." "How could you learn more and get lower grades?" Tierra asked, setting him up and giving Zaxan further evidence that they were becoming more and more of an inseparable team with each passing day. "Well, for example... Molly, think of a class you didn't get an A in." "She's only had the one," Regina said, "And that was only first quarter last year. She got an A for the semester and the final." "Okay," Zaxan said in his oh, so logical tone. "Let's look at the first quarter of that class so we can help Tierra understand. What class was it?" "I don't really like to talk about it," she said, and Zaxan could feel her guard come up. "For Tierra, please," he coaxed gently. Molly sighed. "Okay, it was the sixth grade advanced math class." "Did you know a lot about the subject coming in?" he asked. "Well, I was actually pretty good at math, but I had learned different things in grade school. It was really embarrassing. We went to public grade school, but Mom put us in private school once we hit middle school age. Every kid in the advanced class, except me, had gone to Saint Mary's, the feeder for my school. Their program prepped them for what the middle school teacher did. I had never done any algebra, and they had already been doing it for a semester of fifth grade." She smiled a little bit. "Second quarter I kicked their ass at geometry. I'd had more of that at my old school." "Okay," Zaxan said, looking at Tierra and then back to Molly. "So, you went from knowing zero algebra to getting a B+ in an advanced class. The second quarter you got higher grades in the geometry section. Which quarter did you learn more?" "First quarter, I guess," Molly said, her brow furrowed in thought. "So, you see, Tierra. Molly was a true success that quarter. Anybody who tells her any differently doesn't understand much about learning. Their opinion wouldn't be worth worrying about too much." "I never thought about it that way," Tierra said. "What do you think, Molly?" Molly answered slowly. It was clear that she was turning her whole opinion of the matter upside-down. "I think... I think maybe Zak is right. Huh." Zaxan could feel the burden lifting off her psyche. They were a long way from turning Molly's whole self-image around, but again there was progress. The next moment provided even more evidence of progress. "I think I'll try a little Pasta ala Brett," Molly said. "Just a little." Zaxan's evening ended with a kiss... on the cheek. It wasn't sexually satisfying, but there was so much more to the joys of human females than that. Boldly kissing Zak on the cheek was an exciting moment for Molly. In their hour together before dinner Molly had confessed to Tierra that she'd kissed a couple boys in the past year. But Zaxan could sense that kissing the handsome `older boy' that had swept into her life with an exhilarating suddenness moved her more deeply than anything she had done in her limited experience with other boys. Absorbing what Molly felt in the moment was quite fulfilling for Zaxan. The rest could wait. The following day, Zaxan returned to the more well-equipped cruiser he had parked in lunar orbit and turned the raw gold his mineral-collecting robots had been harvesting at night and turned into unmarked gold bars. The spray bottle came in very useful as Zaxan used it to both convince a shady underworld boss to give him 1.2 million dollars cash for the gold and to get an initially reluctant bank vice-president to handle the paperwork that made fourteen-year-old Tierra Lopez the only one with access to the account in which he deposited the tidy little fortune. His beautiful friend would indeed have the elegant Quinceanera she had dreamt of since she was a little girl. When Zaxan visited Molly's house that evening, he again established himself as the wise older male that approved of Molly's efforts. He helped her with her homework and praised her thoughtful writing style as he perused her essay for English. He convinced her to begin using one his hypno instructors that night, and promised it would help her with her math. He had housed the tiny device within the earphones of an i-pod he gave her as a gift. Since the device only kicked in when the user was asleep, she never caught on to the fact that it gave her visual instruction as well as verbal. On a non-Denubian brain, the device wouldn't give her the same conscious control over the material that Zaxan would have gained. But by the end of the month she would have all the intricacies of trigonometry and differential calculus deep within her brain. The knowledge just wouldn't come out until she was exposed to the subject matter. Zaxan ended the night with a proper goodnight kiss and set a double date for the two of them with Brett and Tierra for the following afternoon. The quartet went golfing, a sport Brett and Molly seemed to have little trouble with, but Zaxan and Tierra found comically frustrating. Well, Tierra found it comical; Zaxan did not. Despite his great strength and agility, he could not make the little ball do what he wanted it do.He ended up using all of his ever-growing collection of profane Earther metaphors and a few he had learned from visiting other worlds. He made note of the possibilities golf presented for him. All Denubians wanted to feel passionate emotions from within, and this cruel sport certainly prompted him to have some. Sarcorp could make a mint off opening golf courses on Denubis Prime! As they were leaving the course, they had to cross a bridge over a ravine. It was not horribly deep for Zaxan, fifty feet or so, but that was a lethal drop for a human. Molly pressed the handle of her pull cart into Brett's hand. "Molls, I hate when you do that," Brett said before she had even begun to do the thing that Zaxan could sense gave Brett chills. Molly simply smiled and then climbed up onto the rail of the bridge. Gleefully, she walked across on the rail, pausing twice to mimic a fall. Tierra and Brett reached out each time, as if they were going to have to dive and catch her. Zaxan stood simply stunned. He had never seen behavior like this, and he had never felt anything quite like he felt from Molly in the moment. The danger made her come alive in a brand new way. He had seen a word in his study of their language, 'daredevil.' He hadn't understood it until that moment. "Is she trying to kill herself?" Brett whispered, near tears. "No," Zaxan replied. "She's not courting death. She's embracing life." Molly reached the far side and dismounted the rail with an aerial spin and then a deep bow. She grinned at the others. Brett and Tierra stared at her with relief on their faces. But Zaxan, her Zak, smiled. Molly knew that he understood. "You've proven you're alive," he said as he crossed to her. He held her in his gaze and continued to look at her with nothing but approval in his eyes. "Magnificent girl, you don't need to prove it anymore, you know?" "But I like it," she said, still smiling. "Let me teach you something, Molly." He took her by the hand and led her back to the rail. He let her stand there on her own. "Close your eyes. Feel the creak in the board beneath your feet. Feel the air around you, beneath you. Don't concentrate on the physical sensations, but find what it does to your heart." She was silent for a moment, standing unaided on the bridge rail with nothing but air and danger around her. She felt omnipotent death held at bay by the strength of her will and the agility of her body. "I feel it, in my heart," she whispered. "Grab hold of it, and lock it into your heart." He could sense that she did so. "My father taught me that any moment, any sensation, can be captured if you lock it into your heart. You don't need to flirt with death again in order to feel alive. You will always have it now. You own it, little beauty." She stepped lightly from the rail and landed on the bridge beside him. "Sometimes you're the only one who gets me, Zak," she said and looked at him with adoration in her eyes. "And now I do own the moment. Thank you." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. On the way home Molly imitated him cursing and ranting during their round of golf and eventually teased him into something called a 'tickle fight.' The strange human ritual kept them occupied until they wound up making out in the backseat. As she let him take her tiny body into his arms, Zaxan could sense her lust for him. She had made a decision already. His actions on the bridge had cemented it. He was going to be 'the one.' Zaxan could sense that her trust in him was even deeper than her desire. Still, Zaxan wanted to do just a little more to make sure that she was going to be free from her desperate desire to please her never-satisfied father. Zaxan had found her emotional struggles very intoxicating. No human girl he'd ever encountered was such an amazing cocktail of conflicting passions, but it was time for her to shake herself free of her self-doubt. Tierra recommended a very human and rather mundane method of pushing the girl toward her 'breakthrough.' They watched a movie. Of the four of them, only Tierra had ever even heard of "The Dead Poet's Society," but its effect on Molly was profound. As the juvenile lead committed suicide after his never-satisfied father squashed his dreams, Molly had the exact reaction Tierra had predicted. The movie had affected Tierra the same way when she was Molly's age. Just like Molly had seen with her mother, Molly saw that the failure in her relationship with her father wasn't her own. She curled up in Zaxan's lap and wept, but he sensed that not all of her tears were bitter or angry. More of her tears actually seemed to spring from hope and relief. Despite his empathic abilities, Zaxan had long ago given up on trying to understand all the reasons why Earther girls wept. He was just glad that they did it so often. Molly was the most emotionally confused girl he had ever met, and somehow that made her his favorite. Molly would cry many more tears over her father, Zaxan knew that. He also knew that it was in most ways a good thing. Completely shutting out part of your personality could lead to your entire psyche collapsing. The Great Betrayal's devastating effects on Denubian females had proven that. But Zaxan was certain that Molly was ready to no longer let that one relationship control her entire life. He could reinforce that attitude once she had bonded to him. He smiled and fondly shook his head as he glanced at Tierra. While all his empathic ability and all his clever games had helped Molly reach her breakthrough, it was simple human female intuition and shared girlhood experiences that had led Tierra to finding just the right button to push to finally set the girl free. Zaxan turned again to Tierra, staring at Molly with tears of her own in her eyes, and mouthed, "I adore you." As Tierra fought off the urge to completely break down, Brett took her by the chin and turned her face to his so that she could see him. "Me too," he mouthed. While Tierra smothered the human boy in kisses, she freed a hand and pointed to Molly, then Zaxan, then upstairs. The timing seemed odd to Zaxan, but he trusted Tierra. Zaxan held his tiny dancer a little closer and then lifted her from the couch and carried her upstairs. She clung to him, and he could sense her anticipation. She knew the implications of her new boyfriend carrying her to the bedroom, and she gladly accepted them. Zaxan began to understand. One phase of her life, the one mired in her torturous attempts to please her father, had ended. She wanted a new phase to begin. She was going to willingly throw her heart into the relationships with the people who already adored her for what she was. Regina, Brett, Tierra and especially Zak were those people. "I love you, Zak," she whispered as they reached the top of the steps. Those three little words, when spoken sincerely, meant everything to humans. He responded with three little words of his own. "Tana, initiate transport." It had become important to him that this complicated little girl accepted him for what he was as well. If she didn't, he would probably just wipe her memory and let her go. Probably. She was still incredibly desirable, and he was still Denubian. Molly gripped tightly to Zaxan's neck. "What just happened, Zak?" she asked and gazed desperately into his eyes. He looked down at her and took a second to recover from the powerful jolt her shock had sent through his system. "Well," he said, gesturing to their surroundings. "I'm an alien." Molly slumped back against him for support and looked at what was undoubtedly a space ship. She took a long time to process it, but she didn't slip into a panic. "All my girlfriends fell in love with vampires and werewolves in books. I fell in love with a real life alien. I think I win." "I feel like I've won, too." "There was always something about you that was different, really different, Zak. This was more than I expected." "And you're okay with it?" he asked. "I have no idea if I'm even awake. It's way too soon to move all the way to okay." "You're still leaning on me," he said hopefully. "At least you're not terrified and cowering in a corner." She turned to look at him. "Am I a prisoner or anything?" "No." "Am I some kind of experiment for you? Are other aliens watching us?" "No, and no." "Why did you bring me here?" "Because I didn't want to make love to you without you knowing." She liked that answer; he could feel that quite clearly. But she wasn't satisfied with just that. "Do you fuck a lot of human girls?" "Only three so far," he said, and felt very uncomfortable about the follow-up questions he knew would come. "Tierra?" "My first." Molly nodded. She had thought as much already. Slowly, the question that frightened Zaxan the most formed in Molly's brain. The clues had been scattered all around her, and she was too bright not to assemble them. "My mom?" "Yes, Molly." He could have dodged what came next, and maybe he would have if he had known such a little girl could hit so hard. He'd been anticipating a slap. She punched him on the jaw. It hurt almost as much as the feelings of indignity and rage she gave him felt good. Then, he felt something else come from her. He shook his head and smiled slightly and then grabbed a mild analgesic patch from the med kit. Molly was still glaring at him when he turned back to her. "Give me your hand," he said in the most soothing voice he could muster. "Fuck you!" "Molly, there's no reason to stand there in pain. Give me your hand." She slowly held her reddened hand out toward him. "Thankfully you didn't dislocate anything," he said calmly. "That was quite a wallop." He pressed the patch to her knuckles.She sighed as she felt immediate relief from the pain. "It felt like I punched a fucking brick wall," she muttered, restraining her rage but not letting go of it. "We're a little more physically rugged than humans." The notion of her boyfriend being some sort of an alien superman appealed to Molly. But then, her mind came back to the subject at hand. "You fucked my mom!" "And how has she behaved since then?" He was acting calm, but being in a conversation this intense rather aroused him. Molly looked down and fidgeted. "Happiest she's ever been," she muttered quietly. Then her emotions fired right back up. "But now you're going after her daughter. It's going to break her heart!" "She actually thought it would be a good idea. Sex with my kind makes girls very, very happy. Reggie wants that for you." "Is that what all this is about? Take pity on the sad little girl and make her happy? You guys can all fuck off!" Zaxan was having some trouble thinking straight. The longer she stayed agitated, the more aroused he became. His addled brain figured that talking wasn't getting the job done anyway. He kissed her. "What the fuck are you doing?" she snapped when she broke away. "I want you, Molly. More than I have wanted any girl I have ever known." He kissed her again. Molly kissed back for a second, but then she shoved him away. Actually, she shoved and accidentally pushed herself back against the work station. She hadn't moved him at all. "I hate you!" she screamed and tried to claw at him. He caught her arms and held them in place. "No, Molly, you don't," he said as calmly as he could manage, but the hunger inside him was becoming overwhelming. "I would know if you really hated me." She had to have been able to sense his arousal now. He was so close to her, holding her struggling arms in place. "What? You know what I'm feeling better than I do?" She looked up at him as he tilted his head slightly sideways. She took the meaning of the glance. It stunned her, and she dropped her hands down to her sides. "Oh, fuck. You do." "Yes, sometimes, Molly." "And what am I feeling right now?" "Angry, betrayed, slightly disgusted..." "Slightly?" she snapped. "Yes. Slightly. You are also intrigued and very aroused." "I am not!" she said, knowing it was a lie, but needing to say it anyway. "Even more so now, than a second ago, because now you're aware of it, and fighting it is becoming even harder. You're really fighting against your own instincts now. Would it be easier for you if I just took you?" "NO!" she shouted. "You're saying it firmly, but your heart is very conflicted on that point." "I fell in love with you, and you were fucking my mom!" she said and started to cry. Zaxan wished she wouldn't do that. He was having a hard enough time controlling himself as it was. He took her in his arms and kissed her again, sliding his hands down to her bottom. He could feel her panties beneath the thin pajama pants she had worn to hang out and watch a movie. She squirmed and turned her face away from him. He could taste her tears on her cheeks. "Molly," he said in a voice that bordered on desperation. "Say no and really mean it or I might not be able to stop." "Please," she sobbed. "Please what?" "I DON'T KNOW!" she cried and kissed him. "I don't know," she whispered softly. "Yes, you do know," he said with certainty. She took a deep breath as if she was about to say something, but she didn't say it. She kissed him again; her lips still carried the taste of tears. He picked her up and held her in his arms. This was another chance for her to say it was going too far, but she clung to his neck instead. He could sense how torn she was. She must have wanted so badly to be able to stop him, to stop herself. There was so much about this that confused her, worried her. But there was a more powerful urge in her, Zaxan could feel it. She had so much desire for the boy she loved. "I can feel what you want, Molly." He carried her to the room he had fixed to resemble a human bedroom and placed her down on the bed. He crawled on top of her and pinned her wrists down in one hand. "So, you're just taking me then?" she asked. It was clear that she felt a certain relief as she pondered the idea. "I think you could still stop me with one word, but you'd have to mean it, and you won't. Unless the next word out of your mouth is a sincere `no,' I am going to ravish your beautiful little body and then I am going to do it again tomorrow and the day after that." "Don't break my fucking heart," she whispered. "I would die." "I'll make you happy," he said. Maybe he should have said, `I love you.' It would have made things easier, but their love was still alien to him, and he wasn't going to lie to her. He knew he wanted her, that she made him feel good, that he wanted her to be happy forever, and that he felt like making her happy was somehow supposed to be his job. Maybe that was love, but he wasn't sure, so he wasn't going to use those words to placate her. He kissed her passionately and whispered, "You'll be happy, Molly. I promise." He supposed plenty of human boys had made that promise to girls. But the Denubian boy knew he could make it happen. That was the truth he could give her. He kept her wrists pinned with one hand and pulled her thin pajama bottoms down off her hips with the other. He took her panties with them and cast them to the floor. He couldn't get the top off over her head with one hand, so he ripped the buttons off the front of the top and spread the sides apart. He kissed her lips, and she hesitantly opened her mouth to his tongue. He could feel it all in her now. Her fear, terror almost, but also her desire and her acceptance. She had been a complicated girl in every moment leading up to this. Of course she would be complicated now. When he moved his kisses down to her barely-there breasts, she reacted with ecstasy. She had wanted him before, and she wanted him now. But there were also so many reasons to want him to stop. Slowly, they were falling away. So, too was the weight of her decision. He was making the decisions now. She could react in whatever way she felt in the moment; the boulder had started down the mountainside. The outcome of this night was inevitable. When he brought his mouth to her sex, he released her hands. She responded with more contradictions. She tried to push him away and then clutched at him. She struck the back of his head and then stroked his hair. She closed her legs and then reached her hips toward his mouth. When he took her knees and forced them slowly apart with impossible strength, she fought back with all her might. When his hungry mouth began to feverishly kiss her moistened labia, she mouthed the word `no' and then pushed his head down tighter. Zaxan felt her relief when he began to kiss and suck at her sex despite her confused efforts. He felt her desire mount as he tasted her and pleasured her with his tongue. While her knees again tried to close as his finger penetrated her, he heard her hiss, "Yes." When he snuck a finger from his other hand up to the hole in her tiny backside, he sensed confusion and then acceptance. He wondered if she even realized that she had rotated her hips to give him easier access to the opening. He might not have even tried it if she hadn't. He locked his mouth on her thin clit, burying his face in her downy ginger pubic hair and worked the finger into her backside. "Even my ass," she groaned softly. "I'm so far gone." He did not penetrate her unlubricated bottom very far. The little bit of pain he was causing her didn't upset her, but he wasn't going to use her for the thrills that pain provided. Not on her virgin night. There would be some pain, he knew, but she wasn't his plaything. She was his darling girl. He left the finger there, but concentrated on the pleasure he was giving her. "Oh god," she moaned. "I'm gonna cum!" He didn't say anything. He was too occupied with what he was doing. He alternated between licks and suction, kisses and nips, fingers and tongue. He could sense what gave her the most pleasure, and in the end it was the flat of his tongue sliding back and forth across the top of her clit that sent her over. It was her first climax shared with a lover, and it was quiet and deep. She took a few sharp breaths, trembled slightly and then sighed in ecstatic relief. Within a few seconds, she was grabbing his hair and pulling him up toward her mouth. She kissed him over and over. Then she pulled his head up slightly and held it in both hands. "I never knew my pussy could feel like that," she said in a way that made even the word `pussy' sound pure and innocent. "I loved it. Thank you." He smiled and kissed her gently. Then he rose and towered over her. "Undress me, little lover," he said. She slid out of her top and sat up on the edge of the bed. She pulled at the bottom of his shirt, and he leaned down and forward so that she could slide it over his head. She opened his slacks as he stepped out of his loafers. She slid them down and then placed her trembling hands at the waistband of his boxers. Molly drew a deep breath and pushed them down. She flushed red with embarrassment when they momentarily got caught on his shaft, but she got them down. "Holy shit," she said, and he could feel her fear of it. But she nodded and began to tilt back toward the bed. His hand caught her and sat her back upright. He brought her face right up to the thing she feared. "I've never tried to..." "Until now," he said. She nodded and took it in both hands. She licked and kissed the head. She was getting aroused by his reaction. He drew in a few sharp breaths. She teased it some more.She giggled slightly when he groaned. With one of her little hands, she began to explore and fondle his sack and even tickle the soft spot behind it. He squirmed slightly. She giggled again. Growing bolder, she ran the tip of her tongue up the length of his shaft, starting at the very base. Her tongue curled up on her before she got all the way to the tip. She had to straighten it out and start in the middle. He groaned again, and she looked up at him with amusement in her blue eyes. "Having fun, little tease?" he asked her. "You are, too, admit it," she said and swished her red hair back over her bare shoulder. "I am, but if you keep torturing me I'm going to start driving it into your mouth. Your choice." She thought about it for a moment. He expected her to start trying in earnest. Instead, she gave him a quick kiss on the tip and then grinned up at him. She'd come so far so quickly. She was willing to make choices now. And not only was she freely giving herself to him, she was even setting the playful tone she desired. He palmed the back of her head and pushed his shaft to her lips. She closed her mouth and smiled. It nearly gave him the opening he needed, and it did give him an idea. He remembered the tickle fight. He gently took a finger from the opposite hand and began to tickle her under the armpit. She couldn't help her response. She opened her mouth to laugh. He got scraped a little on the way in, but not much. Soon, he had half of his shaft buried in her warm, wet mouth. He stopped when he hit the back. She would have no idea how to take him further. Even Regina had barely managed to get him into her throat, and she had spent a great deal of time trying. Zaxan slowly moved her head up and back. She took every bit of it she could, and she started to use her tongue to pleasure him. Molly pushed his hand away, and convinced that she would now try in earnest, he let her set her own pace. She went a great deal faster than he had made her go, and she found that she could fit her whole fist on the base of shaft and still not be in her own way. She pumped furiously as she continued. Zaxan was very happy with the results. He was getting close to his release, but he wanted her to take him inside of her before she was under his thrall. He pulled her off and brought her to her feet so that he could kiss her. She kept her hand on him for a moment, not really wanting to let go of his shaft. But then she threw both her arms around his neck. They kissed for a long while, and he could sense her teasing side starting to come back. "If you want to put that big cock in my pussy," she purred, "you'll have to force me." "Do you really want to make me force you?" he said, trying to contain his desire to do just that. She responded by smiling sweetly and then suddenly breaking from his arms and running to the other side of the room, intentionally cornering herself. He instinctively closed on her, pinning her in place with his arms against the walls. She looked up at him, and there was a touch of fear in her eyes. She had thought this would be the easy way out, making him take her. She now realized that she was playing a dangerous game. He could get wild, and he was very, very powerful. She reached a hand up and ran it over the muscles of his chest and arms. Zaxan felt something in her he had sensed when he very first mentioned forcing her. He hadn't been able to identify everything that had made her want him in the moments where everything stood on the edge of a knife, seemingly ready to tip either way. There was her love for him, and certainly some sheer physical desire. But she couldn't have completely trusted him anymore at that point. Something else had taken the place of that trust, and it had helped make her want him just the same. Now, he knew what it was. She was aroused by the danger, by her own fear of his impossibly big and powerful body and alien heart. He could sense the same feelings she had given off when she stood on the railing of the bridge. She looked up at him with desire and love in her eyes and then closed them as she repeated his instructions on how to lock a moment deep in her heart and not forget a single detail. It was a very deep moment for both of them. Then, after the same sweet smile as before, she raked her nails across his muscular chest. "You'll never get it," she said and tried to duck under his arm. He caught her around the waist and held her up off the floor with one arm. She kicked and squirmed and twisted about trying to slap him. When she managed a slap to the arm holding her, he responded with a sharp spank to her little bottom. "Brute!" she shouted. "You have no idea, little one," he said, feeling a surge of power welling up from inside him. He had spent so much time pushing her buttons that he had never contemplated how well she had learned to push his. He was just a fourteen-year-old boy, after all. Adolescent girls had been driving them crazy since the beginning of her species. He tossed her onto the bed. He could have followed her right there, but he let her get up and out the door. She was heading down the main corridor. "Tana, Wall Eight," he said without moving. "Lock all doors, keyed by my touch." The wall at the end of the corridor quickly rose up and sealed the corridor. The doors all clicked fast. "Cheater!" she cried, slightly amused but still maintaining her willingness to fight. Zaxan smirked and then spoke in Denubian. "Tana, Molly chak zon wex." The transporter locked onto her and she disappeared. Brett saw a shimmer of light, and then his little sister appeared before him. Tierra, Brett's member in her mouth, hadn't notice the naked girl for a moment. Molly had materialized in the living room of her own house. "You okay, Molls?" Brett asked. "I either just got permanently kicked out of a flying saucer, or this is alien foreplay," she said, her breath heavy with excitement. "Probably just--" Tierra started to say, but never got to finish. Molly had disappeared with a shimmer. She found herself in almost total darkness. She could feel cold metal beneath her feet. The room was completely quiet. She thought she was probably back aboard Zak's ship, but she was uncertain. Her fear began to mount. What if he had really been angry about her scratching him? He could have sent her anywhere. And she had the growing feeling that someone was in the room with her. "Zak?" she asked timidly. Strong hands seized her. She was lifted into the air and then launched. She landed several feet away, but her fear of a long fall or crashing into a hard metal deck proved unneeded. She landed on a soft surface, but then powerful arms gripped her again, pushing her to her back. She couldn't move her arms, so she brought her knee up with all the force she could muster. She hit something that felt like flesh, but not the soft spot she was hoping for. Her assailant had blocked her kick with his leg. He used the leg to lever hers open, and his weight descended on her. She was about to panic, but just before her unseen enemy penetrated her she caught a scent. It was musky, masculine and familiar. "You are the craziest, sexiest girl on this whole planet," a voice spoke in the darkness and then Molly felt an unbelievable pressure at her loins. Her beloved was taking her, and Molly was helpless to stop him. She was helpless because she was trapped, helpless because she couldn't see, helpless because he was so strong, helpless because she wanted it to happen so badly. "Oh god, it hurts!" she cried. Zaxan knew that it hurt. He could feel that. It was amazing how clearly he felt it. Still, he pushed forward into her; no force on any planet could stop him from doing that now, least of all himself. He didn't drive mercilessly into her. He worked ever so slowly into her, giving her body time to adjust. She had been well-lubricated before, and she had become aroused at his scent, and his words of desire. Still, it was difficult for the virgin to take him in. When he struck her hymen, he could see her nod, even though this level of light gave humans no ability to see at all. He savored the last bit of true fear she would ever have of this act with him, and then he pushed through her barrier and buried himself deep within her. Molly cried out into the air of the nearly empty aft cargo bay where Zaxan had made love to Cassandra. He had never moved the mattress back to the bed in the mock human bedroom from which he had taken it. The Denubian could feel the warmth from the trickle of blood he had drawn taking his first virgin. It filled him with both lust and respect for the gravity of the moment. He kissed her repeatedly. "I need to see you, Zak," she said softly. "Tana, lights up by twenty percent, slowly." He watched the little redhead's features fill with emotion as she was able to take in her lover's face. "You're so beautiful, Zak" she whispered. "I'm okay, go ahead." He began to move slowly in and out of her. Her sex, like everything else about her, was complicated. It felt like it fought him fiercely, but welcomed him eagerly. It was soft and smooth, yet he could feel tiny bumps within her. It knew pain as he stretched her, but the same force brought her pleasure. Everything that was unfathomably human--unfathomably female--came together in the form of this beautiful little girl. She was very wet now, able to draw pleasure from the act, and he began to work his way up inside of her. It took some doing to find the right angle, but he found a place where he could go deep and not cause her any more pain. "There!" she cried. "Hard and fast right there!" Zaxan let himself cut loose. Molly writhed in ecstasy as his mass filled her over and over. Her face was against his chest, and she covered it with kisses.There was nothing left between them now but pleasure and passion. Zaxan found he didn't miss the complicated emotions in the moment. The two emotions he got from her were so strong, and so well matched to his own, that he was completely satisfied. He was surprised that he was able to go as long as he did, but he had been teased to the brink of climax before, and he had found that sometimes it actually made him last longer. But finally, her warmth, tightness, and passions were too much for him to hold out against. He felt the pressure inside him begin to build. He knew he was about to begin his process of release. "Are you happy?" he urgently asked in the final moment. "Happier than ever!" she squealed in delight. It felt good for him to know that his love and passion alone could do that for her, but he had known all along that she would end up happy. His vibratory phase began with its normal slow twitch. "What's that?" she gasped. Soon enough, the pace of the twitches increased until they became the rapid vibration his species had evolved to ensure female orgasm. "Oh Zak! Oh, my love!" she cried and began to clutch and squeal beneath him. Her second orgasm was frantic. Her little body trembled and shook in ecstasy. She tried to cling to him, but her arms fell to her sides and she clutched at the mattress. Her hips bucked so hard that she lifted her big lover into the air. Zaxan had no more self-control than she did. Human females had always brought forth dramatic climaxes from him, but none matched this one for length or intensity. He arched his back and held himself deep inside of her as his lavender semen finally burst forth. She had been caught in the moment for as long as he. Her ecstasy had nearly pushed her into unconsciousness, but she held onto the moment somehow. Her lover finished his release and rolled off of her as he scooped her up and brought her on top of him. Neither could recall how long it was that they remained there, silently clinging to one another. "Never leave me," she said at last. "I won't," he replied. "I am never leaving this world." Zaxan had no idea how he could achieve that, but he damned sure knew he would. He wasn't quite sure if what he felt for her was the same as human love, but it was the most powerful emotion he had ever generated from inside of himself. "Oh, tiny dancer," he said softly, "I am never leaving you." Sarcon found himself in a rather unusual position. He was genuinely annoyed. Mild annoyance was certainly an emotion Denubian males were capable of experiencing, but Sarcon was feeling it far more profoundly than he had felt it in a very long time. Making the strong negative emotion an even more unusual experience for the Denubian was its source. Sarcon was feeling it toward his nearly perfect son, Zaxan. By Denubian standards, there was no finer specimen of their species than Sarcon's boy. He had never received anything but high marks at the academy. He was considered a whiz at linguistics. He had, upon reaching an appropriate age, expressed the urge to dominate alien females in just the right amount. While the Denubians didn't experience envy to the degree that many other species felt it, Sarcon knew that other fathers were jealous of him not just for his business acumen, but for the way his boy seemed poised to surpass even Sarcon's achievements. Now, that perfect son had genuinely irritated him. A hallmark of Denubian humor was watching others sputter ineffectually. Sarcon's competitors would have certainly been amused had they been able to see his reaction to the message he just received from Earth. Sarcon had decided to treat his boy to the opportunity to be the first Denubian male to copulate with an Earth female. Everything had been fine at first, but the last message left no doubt. The boy was refusing to return home. He had fallen for an Earth female and `gone native.' Sarcon was so upset that he tipped over his drink, on purpose! It was quite a display for the normally controlled Denubian. Emotional outbursts were highly sought after as recreation, but entirely inappropriate for any business setting. Zaxan had his father, one of the richest entrepreneurs on Denubis Prime, so worked up that he didn't even clean the spill for nearly thirty seconds. Then, managing to regain his sense of propriety, he wiped his desk clean and viewed the files attached to the message. File One was a carefully constructed argument involving all the business opportunities available to the Denubian corporation that filed a full rights claim to Earth. Sarcon had to admit that his boy made a good pitch. Zaxan claimed he was not leaving the planet Earth until Sarcon himself came to inspect it. The rich man was impressed, but still believed his son was being wholly unreasonable. File two was a visual message. Sarcon clicked on the file and saw a young, but sexually mature Earth woman. She was tiny, and clothed in only a short silk robe, and spoke in an Earth language to which Zaxan had provided translation. She revealed that her name was Regina, but she liked her lovers to call her `Reggie.' Her eyes sparkled as she told Sarcon that she found Denubian males irresistible, and she had to have him. She pointed out that she liked to beg, but had only learned that under the tutelage of Denubian boy. She was desperate to have an experienced Denubian male show her what true dominance and potency was. She feared such a display of masculine prowess, but her terror was overpowered by her desire for the experience. She lowered her eyes in deference. Off camera, Sarcon heard Zaxan's voice. "Strip for the great man, bitch!" Regina removed her robe, displayed her lithe form to the camera and then knelt. "Please, great one," she said in a soft voice. "Come show me what pleasures I have yet to know." She was so filled with a mix of passions that her tiny body trembled. Sarcon did four things in response. First, he watched the visual file again. Second, he cleared his schedule for the rest of the month. Third, he filed a claim for all rights to the planet known as Earth. Fourth, he called to his transport division and had them send around his fastest long-range cruiser. How had he ever doubted his boy? Sarcon had a definite business model in mind. Limit the number of visitors and make secrecy a requirement. Earth would be an exclusive preserve. Only the richest men on Denubis would be able to pay the high prices he would charge for visitor's permits. Maybe a dozen would visit the planet in a year. The culture, and that incredibly beautiful female Regina, would remain unchanged. His boy would want to remain there, and of course, Sarcon could see why. Well, Sarcon couldn't remain on Earth permanently, and the planet would need an ambitious young man to act as onsite management. The boy was ready. That left only the brand-naming of the planet to take care of for now. "Earth" was dreadfully hard for a Denubian without Zaxan's gift for languages to pronounce. Sarcon had tried many times but it always came out "Ear-uth" or "Airtha." The entrepreneur wracked his brain for a long time. Finally, he sat down in the studio aboard his ship. He asked the computer to project an image from Earth behind him. He looked into the camera and began his pitch. "Come to Zaxan's Paradise, the prettiest little planet in the universe and home to the greatest treasure any man has ever encountered... the human female! "Zaxan's Paradise is the exclusive property of Sarcorps, contact our travel division for arrangements now. Not sold yet? Of course not! You're an intelligent man with discerning tastes. Let a human female tell you why a visit to Zaxan's Paradise is one you'll never forget!" Sarcon turned off the camera. "Insert video of Regina, edit out Zaxan's voice." "Please, great one," the naked human woman said. "Come show me what pleasures I have yet to know." "That should do it," Sarcon said happily. "Oh, I have the brightest son in the universe!

Authors/Mannheim_Knot/Young Girl Stories/Young SF and Mind Control Stories/Zaxan 4 (mg, alien, rom).txt

Mannheim Knot

Zaxan's Paradise 2: Cassie of Earth

Zaxan sent Tierra home after their third encounter that afternoon. She left reluctantly, but he promised to see her again the next day. He needed a sleep cycle to process his thoughts. The next afternoon, Tierra reported to the agreed-upon transport site earlier than expected. Judging by the timing of her arrival, she had either left her track practice early or run to the location. Zaxan asked Tana to transport the girl to the shuttle and instructed the computer not to anesthetize her upon arrival. "Zaxy!" Tierra cried upon seeing him and ran across the cargo bay to give him a kiss. "I think I missed you. I was fine through school all day, but when I knew it was going to be time to see you, I got really excited. You know... down there. It was kind of cool." "I'm glad you like the way you feel now, Tierra, although I will miss raping you," he said, not bothering to hide the fact that it was quite a fond memory for him. "But you liked it when I was willing, too, didn't you?" She seemed afraid he might have lost interest in her. "Oh yes. Fucking you is fun no matter what the circumstances, Tierra. And if I need a really intense experience like that again, I can always rape another girl." "I'll help if you want me to," she said and then got a strange look on her face. It was an odd mix of anticipation and regret. "I should feel awful for saying that." "Well, you know how she's going to feel afterwards," he offered. "I do. And that somehow frees me to do it. I've... I've always had this sort of anger inside me. My brother has it, too. Our parents were kind of awful to us when we were little. Now, my dad's long gone, and my mom just ignores us since we're too big for her to hurt us anymore. Hector's always gone out and looked for fights, but I've never been willing to hurt anybody. Now, I could sort of do that without causing any long-term damage. Do you know how that feels?" Zaxan thought carefully before he answered. Then he realized that whatever Denubian secrets or shame he shared with her were safe. She was his slave in many, many ways. "Every Denubian male feels that way, Tierra. Our females betrayed us in the worst way. Now, we take other females for our pleasure, but if they are unwilling to pleasure us and we take them by force, we always release them with no memories of what happened. No permanent damage, just a brief period where we were in total control." "And you would have done that with me?" she asked. "Released me with no memory of the rape?" "Yes. But now there is no need. Your bonding to me is very deep, and it leaves you feeling happy." "I am happy. But I think I'm a little evil now, too." "Maybe," he said, wondering if the term `evil' applied to him, too. "But it seems that you've become a little like we are. You see the chance to exercise complete control without doing harm, and you're willing to take it. But I doubt you're nearly as evil as you feel you are. I think the--what was the word you used to describe my control over you?" "Thrall?" "Yes. I think the thrall can only go so far. I don't think you would murder someone just because I told you to." "No, I don't think I would. But Zaxan, I would die for you." Zaxan thought about that for a while. He essentially owned this girl now. She was his love slave, without a doubt. But he was also fond of her, too. As a matter of fact, only his fondness for his father could compare with what he felt for her. And Denubians did have a moral code, even if it was far different from that of humans. He owed this girl something more than occasional pleasure. Yes, he was certain of that. "Tierra Lopez, I would die for you, too." For the second time in his association with this girl, Zaxan felt a powerful emotion come from inside him instead of just feeling it from her. Of course, Tierra had a very strong emotional reaction to his declaration as well, and he ended up with the not-at-all unpleasant task of holding the tall and slender Latina as she completely fell to pieces. She had bonded to him because Denubians had evolved to have chemicals in their semen that brought about that reaction in some species, but despite the fact that she was induced to love him, her feelings were very real. Zaxan still didn't have the same powerful emotions that humans possessed, but he absorbed the passion in her embrace. While it faded somewhat when he wasn't physically near, Tierra loved him desperately whenever he was in the room with her. "My sweet little girl," he said happily when she had regained her composure. "I do want your help with the next girl, but I don't think I'm ready for quite the experience I had yesterday. I slept for a cycle-and-a-half after you left. Physically, I could go all night, but emotionally... Let's just say that raping Earther girls is for special occasions and we need to come up with some other plans for getting girls to fuck me." They spent the next few hours coming up with schemes and scenarios. Tierra had a very creative mind, and her ideas ranged from synthesizing his semen into something that could be injected to elaborate ruses and deceptions. Zaxan didn't like the notion of just injecting girls. It lacked the powerful emotional experience he craved. But he did take the idea and have Tana set her logic fibers to weaponizing his semen as a way to pacify humans if he and his lovely co-conspirator ever found themselves in a sticky situation. After exploring plans that were often so complicated or ridiculous that they sent the two fourteen-year-olds into fits of laughter, they settled on one that seemed workable for each of the two girls he had tagged. Zaxan checked on his two prospective conquests. If neither was in a good position to be transported, they would have to go somewhere and find a different girl. The tween redhead was at someplace called The New Mexico Academy of the Dance, and was surrounded by people. Zaxan still believed the only way to bring her to the shuttle unnoticed would be to take her from her bed at night. It was considered the classic method, after all. Still, he longed for something more than that with her. No being had ever struck him as being a beautiful innocent the way that girl had. The NMU student was another matter. She appeared to be in an isolated study room in a library. Zaxan understood that. He spent many hours in solitude working on his studies. Even his vacation here on Earth was going to provide him with plenty of material for his essays in linguistics class. But there might never be a better opportunity to snatch the otherwise very social creature away without her friends immediately noticing her absence. Zaxan instructed the ship's computer, Tana, to transport the girl.They initiated what Tierra had dubbed "Operation Seduction," a plan in which the college girl was actually going to seduce the alien in the end. The blonde girl was immediately anesthetized upon materializing in the transport tube. Zaxan pitched her onto his shoulder and carried her to the room that had been set up per Tierra's plan. Zaxan found the new design to be rather chilling, but his beautiful co-conspirator emphasized that the frightening appearance was rather the point. Zaxan stripped the new girl down to her cut-off shorts and bra before he placed her on one of the cold metal tables they had hastily assembled. Tierra stripped to the same level of undress and hopped up on her matching table wearing only her sports bra and running shorts. "Damn," Tierra whispered, "look at the body on that girl. You're gonna have some fun with those big tits and that flat belly. And she's gonna have some fun with you." Zaxan grinned just like any fourteen-year-old human boy would if he was told he was going to have sex with a gorgeous college girl. He fastened both girls down with restraints as he fought the urge to just take advantage of the blonde's vulnerable position. He reminded himself that he really wasn't in the mood for another rape. He waved a vial of antidote under the blonde's nose and left the room in the few seconds it took her to come around. He turned on the cameras and intercom so he could spy on them. "Hey, blonde girl! Hey, you awake, over there?" Tierra whispered urgently. "Wha--what? Oh god, where am I?" the girl asked, taking on the same whispery tone. "I'm over here. Can you see me?" Tierra asked. The girl turned to her and saw that the pretty dark-haired girl in the room with her was bound to the table in the same fashion. "Where are we?" the blonde asked in hushed tones. "What are they doing to us? What the hell is that thing with all the needles?" "This is gonna sound crazy, but I think we're in a government lab or something," Tierra said in what sounded convincingly like a terrified whisper. "There's this big guy, and he comes in every so often and looks at that computer and then leaves. He won't answer any questions or anything though, and I haven't been able to get a good look at his face." "Why would they grab me?" the blonde asked. "I'm not involved in anything with the government or military." "Me neither! I'm a freshman at Albuquerque East." "I'm a freshman at the U. Did they do anything to hurt you at all, sweetie?" On the other side of the door, Zaxan couldn't get the full effect of the emotional vibes from the girl, but he could tell that she instinctively felt an earnest sense of protectiveness toward the younger Tierra. "No," Tierra said. "But they took my shirt and shoes and I didn't have my cell phone with me. Do you have yours?" The blonde wiggled her backside for a bit. "Yeah, it's in my back pocket. I'll see if I can reach it." "Who can we call?" the younger girl moaned. "I don't even know where we're at!" "I think if I call 9-1-1 they might be able to trace the location of the phone." "God, you're smart! What's your name?" "Cassandra. Cassie. You?" "Tierra." "Stay strong, Tierra. We'll get out of this yet." Zaxan was impressed that Cassandra tried to put on a brave face even though her inner emotional vibrations indicated that she believed they were very unlikely to escape or get rescued. He watched the monitor as she tried to wiggle her hand down to her pocket. "Tana, you have her signal blocked in case I don't get there fast enough, right?" "Sure thing, handsome," the computer purred in Kathleen Turner's voice, Zaxan's personal adjustment to the original programming. As soon as the girl got to her phone, he rushed into the room and pried it from her hands. He was amazed by how close Cassandra had gotten. Denubians were far more agile than humans, but Tierra had warned him that teenage girls dialed cellphones remarkably fast. She hadn't even been able to see the phone, but she had already gotten 9-1-1 punched in. He had gotten to her right before she hit `send.' "Hey, who are you?" Cassandra called after him as he left with the phone. He gave her no reply. "Did you see his face, Cassandra?" Tierra asked. "He looked like he was..." "About your age, and as scared as we are. I know. Tierra, I don't think this is a government lab." "Then what the hell is it?" "I'm an engineering major, and my dad is a physics professor, and I have never seen any of this kind of equipment before. Plus, did you see how fast that kid moved? I don't think he's from around here." "Is he... Russian?" Tierra asked as if that would explain any of the things Cassandra said. "No, sweetie. He's from further away than that." "You're out of your mind! An alien! Come on, Cassandra, keep it together." "You explain how they got me out of a huge library without anyone noticing. Where'd they get you from?" "Track practice," Tierra said as if the location was leading her to realize that something unearthly must have happened. "Oh, God. They're going to cut us up or something." "Maybe not, Tierra. Think about the number of people in New Mexico who claim to have been abducted and returned. We're going to be okay, honey. We'd rather have it be them than some black ops government thing right? Those guys scare me worse than aliens ever would." Zaxan felt Tierra suppress a laugh. She couldn't help but agree with the college girl. Tierra's experience with aliens had been pretty fun so far. "What do we do, Cassie?" Cassandra was quiet for a long time. When she spoke, she tried to sound far more certain of herself than she actually was. Zaxan could feel some of the stress she was under, but her protective urges and concern for her fellow captive kept her together. He desperately wanted to be in the room with her and be able to absorb more of what she was feeling. Tierra was brave, but this girl went beyond that. He felt like the right human word to describe her was probably `noble.' He knew his opportunity to truly feel the emotions inside her would come soon. When Cassandra spoke, she was feeling slightly guilty about what she was suggesting, even though she was in a life or death situation. "Well, he does seem to be male, and scared, and probably lonely. And you're a very pretty girl about his age." "You're prettier than I am. Look at your body! Sorry, that was weird, Cassandra." "It's okay, Tierra, and I'd kill for long legs like yours. We'll both try, okay? Do you have any experience with boys?" "I'm sorry, Cassie. I'm really shy with guys. I'm scared of doing stuff, and my family is very, very Catholic. I'll try, but..." Tierra stopped speaking as the door opened. Zaxan moved in and looked at a computer display. "Hey. My name's Cassie. What's yours?" Zaxan froze but didn't reply. He waited for his co-conspirator. "I'm T-tierra, let's be friends, okay?" Zaxan again didn't respond, but this time he took a quick peek back at Tierra. "My friend is pretty scared," Cassandra said, picking up on the glance at Tierra. "Could you please be a nice guy and tell her that you're not going to hurt her?" Zaxan didn't turn toward them, but spoke in a shaky whisper. "I'm sorry, but I'm not really supposed to talk to the visitors." Zaxan felt a profound sense of relief coming from Cassandra, and a heightened sense of hope. "Visitors? Come on. We're strapped down." "I really am sorry about that," he said, still not turning toward them. "Safety regulations. There are parts of the shuttle that are dangerous to humans." "Please," Tierra said softly. "We're scared and lonely. Haven't you ever been scared and lonely?" Zaxan sensed pride in Tierra coming from Cassandra. She really did seem to care for the younger girl. Her protectiveness wasn't tied to anything but the decency of her soul. Cassandra had no sexual or romantic feelings for Tierra; Zaxan would have sensed that. The blonde beauty was just... nice. "Can't you tell us anything?" "We won't harm you," he said. "But we can't let you go for quite a long time, either. That could lead to our being detected. I really... I really am sorry for all this. My superiors mean well, but sometimes they don't think about anything but the mission." He turned and faced them. "And they've found that emotional attachments to the visitors complicate things." He looked at Cassandra and then to Tierra. He held the gaze at each for a moment longer than seemed normal. "Our species forms attachments easily," he whispered. Zaxan felt something stir within Cassandra. She was a romantic soul, and she sensed that this vulnerable young alien was truly falling for Tierra. "We form attachments, too," she said and moved her eyes toward her fellow captive. "Don't we, Tierra?" "Yes, we do," the younger girl whispered and blushed. Zaxan felt a bit of sexual arousal coming from both girls now. Tierra was really into her role as the innocent young girl, and Cassandra was being swept up in the vicarious romance of it all. "Do you feel an attachment to Tierra?" Cassandra asked in a sweet voice. He turned to the blonde and looked at her like answering the question would make his life more difficult. She tilted her head slightly and pleaded with her eyes. Zaxan sighed. It appeared as if she had broken him down. "Yes," he said and hung his head slightly. "She reminds me of my little sister back home. I just want to hold her and tell her it will be alright." "Oh," Cassandra said. "I'm sorry, I thought I was picking up on something else. You almost seem like you're hiding some romantic feelings." He looked at Cassandra with his mouth slightly open.When he spoke, he rushed his words like a seventh-grade boy asking his first crush to the Valentine's Day dance. "You're like the dawn over the mountains," he told the blonde and fled the room. Once outside, he grinned. He figured it was about time he left a human girl with a metaphor she couldn't understand. He heard Cassandra's breath catch, and felt a warm response from her heart. She took his phrase to mean exactly what he'd hoped she would when he made it up. Tierra's plan was working incredibly well. A direct romantic approach with Cassandra would have frightened her off, or at least left her feeling queasy. First opening her mind to the idea of a romance blossoming between the other two and then using her receptiveness to the idea to turn it around on her would catch her off guard. The onus of seducing the vulnerable boy fell on her now. Zaxan returned a few minutes later with a tray and two tiny patches. He crossed to Tierra. "Little one," he said softly and stroked her hair. "I have to give you some medicine. The voyage to our mother ship is only a few hours, but the effects of warp can make humans violently ill. This medicine will prevent that. It will give you a euphoric feeling for a few seconds, but then it will make you sleepy. Please know that I will never let any harm come to you, and that when we get to the big ship, we will be able to let you move about. May I?" "I'm scared," Tierra said. "What if it doesn't work right on humans? What if it poisons me?" "It's okay, sweetie," Cassandra said. "I'll go first. Then you'll know it's safe." Zaxan felt a huge spike of emotion come from Tierra, and he actually felt a small one coming from his own heart. Cassandra was risking her life for a girl she had just met several minutes before. "Are you sure, Cassie?" Tierra asked. "Yeah. I should go first. I'm the oldest." She looked at Zaxan with her intelligent blue-grey eyes. "Please don't let me die," she whispered to him. "That wouldn't comfort her very much." "It's safe," he said, turning away from Tierra after gently brushing her hair back from her face and kissing her on the forehead. "You'll feel a slight euphoria, Cassandra, and then gently drift off to sleep." He began to open the package containing the patch. "You never did tell me your name," Cassandra said and smiled hopefully. "Zaxan, Son of Sarcon." "That sounds manly. Zaxan the Brave. There's a hero inside you, Zaxan." She was a jumble of emotions. There was hope, curiosity, fear, affection, and a touch of arousal. Zaxan was already learning that anything with a sexual or romantic overtone aroused humans a bit. "I'm just a worker class, Cassie of Earth." "No. You're a kind boy with real compassion. Given the opportunity, that could be turned to bravery." "Please, Cassie. I get confused when you look at me like that. If I defy orders, I could be punished severely. I can't risk it, even for.... I can't risk it. Hold out your arm, please." "What you said to me before, Zax. What did it mean?" "I shouldn't have said it. It was wrong to make such a declaration to a girl strapped to a table. I sensed your goodness, and you are so beautiful. Ugggh! It was wrong of me to say that now, too. You just make me feel so..." He took a deep breath. "Cassie, you're in a vulnerable position, but I would never take advantage of your fear or loneliness. Your arm, please." "How old are you, Zax?" "Twelve," he said and felt the disappointment in her heart. "Twelve in our years would make me twenty-one in yours. We tend to look younger than you do." Her romantic side did flip-flops, and he soaked it all in. "You know, Zax. You're every bit the prisoner I am here. You get the three of us out, and maybe we can see the actual dawn over the mountains together sometime. The Sandias are close by." Her arousal spiked at her own suggestion of a romantic interlude, and Zaxan felt it like a warm shower cascading over his body. She wasn't lying. She would go through with it, willingly, even if she had already been freed from captivity. "Please, Cassie. I'm really not supposed to get attached to you, and it's hard enough as it is." He pleaded with his eyes and she gave him her hand. "There's that euphoria," she said when he took her hand. "I didn't put the patch on yet." "I know," she said and smiled. He applied the patch, and she drifted off to sleep. As soon as she was under, Zaxan freed Tierra from her restraints. "Holy shit, Zax! She's like the nicest girl I've ever met. I really wasn't expecting that. Girls as hot as her can usually get away with being sort of selfish." "You want to just let her go, don't you?" Zaxan asked. "No. That's you, ya big sap. I want to do something even sappier. I want to give her exactly what she thinks she's getting, a romantic adventure with an impossible hero and a lovable girl sidekick." "No more Operation Seduction?" "No," she said with a sigh. "Now we're into Operation Give a Girl Such a Perfect Moment that Her Panties Will Melt Every Time She Even Thinks About It." "That's a very long name, Tierra." "Operation Panty-Melter for short, then," she said and smiled. They exited the room. "How long is she going to be out?" "Eight hours or until I wake her." "Good. Let's get started. Tana is going to have to help us with this one." Tierra froze as she heard music. "That's not my phone. Cassie's getting a text." Tierra picked up the phone from the counter. "Someone named Kelly-Bean wants to know where she's at. Let me see... I have it." Zaxan watched as she texted a reply. "My cousin showed up out of nowhere," she typed and sent it. Almost immediately a reply came back with another question. "The cute one?" Tierra typed in another reply. "No, the crazy drunk one. Be out all night. See ya soon." The next reply from Kelly-Bean was one they'd hoped they'd get. "Tell Bex I said hi. Have fun." "I'm glad you're my ally," Zaxan said. "You're deviously clever." "I'm also deviously horny, and it won't take me eight hours to set up Operation Panty-Melter," she said. Zaxan liked the feeling he was getting from her at the moment. "Conspiratory fuck?" he asked and raised an eyebrow, a trait he had already learned from his human companion. "My first one of those," she said. "Bet it's not our last, though. I'm having a blast!" Zaxan took her standing up this time. The idea had been stuck in his head since their first encounter. The thing he remembered most when he reflected back on fucking Tierra while standing was the fact that she told him he was strong thirteen separate times. He hadn't realized that a willing girl looked at brute physical strength entirely differently than a girl who was being forced. Zaxan's strength had terrified her when he first took her, but this time it filled her with admiration for him, and it made her feel safe to know that a being of his strength was willing to use the very last of it to defend her if necessary. As her long legs wrapped around him and propelled her hot sex up and down his shaft, she found her climax long before he ever began the vibratory phase of his ejaculation. But when that began, she found it again. When the encounter ended, she slid down to the floor and knelt, cleaning the last of his outpouring of lavender semen from him. "I never tasted a human guy's cum," she said, "but I bet it doesn't taste this damned good." "Bet it doesn't make your tongue purple, either," he offered. "So, what does it taste like?" "Cinnamon chewing gum." She reached down and took some of the overflow that ran down her leg. "Cinnamon gum cum, wanna try it?" He was tempted, but he wasn't quite ready for that. "I'll just get some gum later," he replied. He wasn't quite sure why she laughed so much after he said that, but he was glad that she was happy. Several hours later, they were aboard his father's massive Sarcorp cruiser. They had asked Tana to use her normal voice and make semi-regular announcements in Denubian. She also employed her holographic equipment to create several Denubian characters that moved about the ship. Cassandra needed to believe they were not alone on the big vessel. Zaxan revived her in a chair in one of the many cabins that had remained unused during the trip. The cruiser could house thirty people for a long trip if needed. Zaxan had taken such a big ship only because its range was needed to reach Earth. "Zax," Cassandra said softly as she came to. "I'm glad it's your face I woke up to. How's Tierra?" "Still asleep on the bunk over there. I revived you first. I... I need to talk to you." "You look worried, handsome. What's wrong?" She touched his cheek. "You said I was a prisoner here. It's not true. At least I don't think it's true. I'm going to take a job on a hospital ship when I get back home. They don't make you stay at an assignment you hate. I thought it would be fun, seeing a new world. I never realized that I would play a part in making someone like you unhappy. Most species don't mind so much being captive if they're treated well. You and Tierra hate it, don't you?" "Yes, Zax. We do hate it. We're scared, and worried that we'll never see our families again." "I have a friend in the shuttle bay. If I can get you there, I can get you home." Zaxan loved the feeling of joy he was getting from her, and he loved the pride she felt in him. Even if he didn't have the same pride in himself at the moment, he could feel hers. Sometimes he loved being able to borrow emotions. "Won't they come take us back?" she asked. She was worried, but not panicky. "A computer glitch erased all your specific biographical information, and to everyone else aboard you're just another human."They won't even know which continent we originally took you from. There are almost seven billion of you humans. They won't be able to track you down." "A 'computer glitch?' You are clever." There was that pride again, but this time there was admiration, even definite romantic feelings. Zax realized that Tierra was a genius at playing on other humans' emotions. "But Zax, won't they know that you were the one who helped us?" "I-I erased that information, too," he said just the way that Tierra had taught him. It sounded like a lie. "Zax, you brave boy. What will they do to you?" "I don't care, Cassie. I just don't care." "I do." "They won't kill me, and they probably won't even incarcerate me. Whatever it is, it won't be as awful for me as keeping you for years and then erasing your memories of your time with us will be for you. Do you really want to go through the rest of your life wondering what happened to you for three years? It would give me nightmares." "You're the most heroic man I've ever known, and the kindest," she said and kissed him. "You don't have to repay me by pretending you feel the same way about me that I feel about you, Cassie." "Who's pretending?" she said and kissed him again. Zaxan recognized the feeling she sent him this time. As unlikely as it seemed to him, she was falling in love with an alien teen she had only known for a few hours. Tierra had told him she would. The part he played for her was just the right combination of vulnerable and heroic. Tierra said that the way he looked didn't hurt either. She'd said he had 'bedroom eyes.' Metaphors. If this one meant what he thought it did, it was a very nice thing to hear from a gorgeous girl. Zaxan gave Cassandra a vial and told her to wave it under Tierra's nose a few times. He left the room and made sure that Tana was ready with the holograms and the lighting system. Then he got a surgical mask and cap from the med kit. When he first walked in, the girls both reacted as if they were startled. Only one of them truly was. "It's me," he said. "I have an idea that might get us past the people in the corridor. I'll tell them that there needs to be a radius of ten feet around you until you're decontaminated. People tend to just hustle away and not ask questions when they hear that." "He's really smart," Tierra whispered to Cassandra. Cassandra nodded. "Kind of cute, too," the younger girl added. Cassandra nodded again. The holographic characters strenuously avoided them when told of the radius. Zaxan could feel Cassandra's confidence grow as they progressed through the ship. Then, Tana sounded a claxon and began making frantic announcements in Denubian. "They know!" Zaxan whispered urgently. "Run!" They sprinted down a hallway and skidded to a stop as four characters appeared at the far end. Zaxan led the girls down an adjacent hallway and to an access panel that led to the ladders for use in case of power failure in the lifts. They climbed down two ladders and he opened a panel. There was a bright flash of light in the hallway. Zaxan had no idea what a ray gun was, but Tierra had assured him that the flash would make Cassandra think they had been fired at with one. Zaxan closed the panel and his keen hearing led him to be able to hear Cassandra's heart pounding out a rapid rhythm. Tierra had told him to make sure he did something that displayed his strength. "We have to go faster," he said. He took one girl in each arm and lifted them off the floor. "Hold on tight. Keep your heads and limbs close to me." They threw their arms around his neck and wrapped their legs around him. He leapt down the ladder shaft. Just as Cassandra caught her breath, he leapt down a second and then a third. "Oh, my god!" Cassandra said. "Did you really just...? That's a fifteen-foot drop with a girl under each arm!" Tierra had again correctly diagnosed what would 'push the girl's buttons.' Cassandra was completely aroused by his display. "Muy macho!" Tierra gushed. She hadn't realized that Zaxan showing off in this manner would push her buttons as well. "We're right across from the shuttle bay," he said and hoped Cassandra couldn't tell that he too was aroused. The girls' proximity and reactions had made him feel sexy. Two characters in what Tierra had imagined would look like alien security uniforms appeared in the hallway as the trio attempted to cross. Zaxan shoved the girls into the shuttle bay and closed the door. The character that was supposed to be Zaxan's friend beckoned the girls to the open hatch of a shuttle. "I have to go back for Zax!" Cassandra declared and ran back toward the door. Tierra smiled. Cassandra was a hell of a woman, no doubt about it. Just as Cassandra reached the door, Zax staggered in. There was a large black mark on his shoulder. He'd had just enough time in the hallway to change into a shirt Tierra had scorched. "They winged him with a stunner," the friend declared. "Get him on the shuttle before he passes out!" "We can't fly this damned thing!" Tierra said. "It will fly itself. It's programmed that way. Zaxan wasn't sure he'd be there in the end, so he had me set it up to fly you home. Hit the green button, and then when you're outside the ship, hit the square red one. The square one. That's the stealth mode." The door to the corridor groaned. "They're overriding the lock! Go!" The girls helped the wobbly Zaxan aboard the ship and turned back to thank the brave friend. "Wait!" he called. "Zaxan, stun me!" Zaxan pulled a prop stunner from the panel next to the door, but dropped it to the floor. Cassandra picked it up and fired. It whirred and emitted a bright flash. The holographic friend character slumped to the floor. Tana provided a nice thud sound effect. "Why did we have to shoot him?" Tierra asked. "So it looks like we forced him to open the door. Go press the buttons," Cassandra said in a calm and commanding voice. "Green first. Square red one after we clear the ship." Cassandra guided her wounded hero to his seat. "You okay, baby?" she asked. Zaxan was stunned, but not by any weapon. This amazing Earth girl was a treasure beyond his imagining. If this was what Denubian females had been like before the Betrayal it was no wonder they had been dominant for so long. Zaxan was no longer playing his role to take advantage of her. He was playing it to give the noble girl the perfect moment Tierra had predicted. No girl had ever deserved such a moment more. "Brudel? He okay?" he asked, mimicking grogginess. "I stunned him. They'll think he's innocent. Later, tell him how brave he was, okay?" Zaxan rolled his head a few times. He looked at Cassandra like he was trying to focus on her face. "Bravvve and boot-full," he slurred. "Yes you are," Cassandra said, tears in her eyes. "Gonna pash ouwat. Wear offff in coupllle hoursh," he said and let his head slump down. She took him in her arms and held him. "Cassie, come up here!" Tierra called. Cassandra kissed Zaxan on the lips and rushed to the cockpit. "Problem?" Cassandra asked as she stood behind Tierra. "No. Look. Is that...?" "Oh my god. It's Neptune!" "Long ways from home," Tierra said. "Yeah, long ways. But thanks to him, we're going to see home again, Tierra." "Thanks to you, too. You're kind of amazing, Cassie." "You did well, too, Tierra. Most girls your age would have panicked. You were as brave as could be." Zaxan could feel that Tierra was embarrassed to receive the praise after deceiving Cassandra, but the blonde just took it as a humble girl having trouble with such a compliment. "I have to go check on Zax." "Give him a kiss for me, Cassie." Tierra waited a moment and then pointed out the window into space and added, "Hey Cassie... I saw Neptune and pretty soon I'm gonna be able to see Your Anus!" It was the closest Zaxan came to giving up the whole thing. He was supposed to be out cold, but he had to open his mouth and moan to keep from laughing. Cassandra really was in space, just not nearly as far out as she thought she was. Tana kept the shuttle orbiting the moon for a few hours and projected the image of the solar system onto the windows. Cassandra checked on Zaxan many times, and only left him when Tierra called her up front to see some wonder of the stars. Zaxan wished they could show her every planet, but he knew she was too smart. The planets didn't line up along a straight route like they did in textbooks. A physics professor's daughter wouldn't fall for that. Still, the effect on her was profound. "I think that maybe engineering isn't my calling," she said quietly at one point. "What are you going to do?" Tierra asked. "Get back here, to space. I want to be an astronaut." "That kind of sounds like something I would have said when I was a little girl, Cassie." "I know. Everyone dreams of it sometimes, I suppose. But there are a handful of people who actually follow the dream, aren't there?" "You're smart enough, Cassie. And you're physically fit and brave as hell. You could do it." Tierra paused for a moment, and then Zaxan could tell that she was looking at him. Cassandra's eyes would have followed. "Sometimes dreams do come true, don't they?" Tierra added. "Yes," Cassandra answered. "Sometimes they do." Zaxan could sense that she was thinking of him as well. He rose shakily to his feet shortly before they landed. Cassandra was there, helping him. He asked her to bring him a medicine patch to help revive him. It was actually just a nutritional supplement patch. He stood up straight and became alert. "I'm going to the cockpit," he announced and took two steps in that direction before turning back to Cassandra.He kissed her and held her in his arms. "You truly are the dawn, Cassandra of Earth," he said and proceeded up to the cockpit. She did not move immediately to follow him. Zaxan could hear her breathing heavily, and he felt the romantic urges within her reach what he believed was an all-time high. A few moments later, she joined them in the cockpit. Zaxan had taken the ship off of autopilot and was on final approach to Earth. He guided the stealth ship down over Albuquerque and made a pass right over the city, strangely quiet in the hours just before dawn. "I believe we should drop you off first, Tierra," he said. "You have likely been missed, as you are so very young." Tierra nodded and didn't bring up the fact that she was ten months older than him. When he was over her house, he put her in the transporter tube and kissed her on the forehead. Before he could close the tube, Cassandra ran to her and hugged her tightly. Zaxan couldn't help but be aroused at the two beautiful teenage girls wearing nothing but bras and short shorts embracing. The fantasy he conjured in the moment wasn't to be, however, not if he wanted to give Cassandra the perfect adventure and a clean ending. "You have my number, right?" Cassandra asked Tierra. "Yeah." "It'll probably be a couple days before I get a new phone, but you can call me anytime you need anything, okay?" Cassandra squeezed Tierra's hand. "After all, I'm probably the only person in the world you can talk to about all this." "Thanks, Cassie." Tierra leaned back into the tube and the glass closed over her. In a final dramatic gesture, she pressed her hand to the glass, and Cassandra placed hers opposite it. With a shimmer, Tierra vanished. "To the university?" Zaxan asked. "I promised you something," Cassandra said, taking his hand. "Dawn over the Sandias?" "I won't hold you to that, Cassie." "I like it when you hold me, Zax." They landed the shuttle facing west in a small clearing and opened the wide hatch at the back. Zaxan left the stealth generator on, and kept a force field in place against the morning chill. He fetched a wide mattress from one of the beds and placed it on the floor right in front of the hatch. Invisible to the world, they had a perfect view of the mountains. "We'll have to wait a bit for sunrise," he said. "We'll occupy ourselves, I imagine," she answered as she snuggled in close to him. Zaxan was beginning to realize that perfection, even when stolen, was still perfection. "What is going to happen to you, Zax?" "I can't go back to the ship, but there's enough charge in the shuttle's core to get me to our colony in the Quarlon System. My cousin is there. He'll help me out. He's been trying to get me to come there anyway. It's a rough place, and they need medics." "You can't go home, can you?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. "No. Not for a long time at least." "You gave up your home so that Tierra and I could get back to ours." She wept softly and leaned her head down onto his chest. "Cassie, thanks to you I did the right thing. I have never felt more... free." "Stay here, Zax, with us... with me." "I would be stuck inside the shuttle. They can't detect me while it's in stealth mode. But if I stepped outside, they would recognize the Denubian life form and come for me, and that could lead right back to you and little Tierra. And I fear that even a human as brave and strong as you could not survive in the Quarlon System. It's not compatible with your bodies." "So, there's only this moment for us then," she said and touched his cheek, waiting to see how he would respond. He paused for a moment and then proceeded cautiously. "Cassie, how do your people... I mean I understand the actual act is much like ours... but now that you are free.... How do your people initiate lovemaking?" "I'll show you, sweetie," she said and pulled his face down for a kiss. As they kissed she lowered herself so that she was lying crosswise on his thighs. She reached up and took his hand and brought it to her bare belly. It was flat and smooth and warm, and Zaxan loved the feel of it. Subtly, she pushed his hand upward just a bit. Momentum and desire took it the rest of the way for him. Soon he was cupping one of her full breasts in his big hand. She made a soft purring sound, and Zaxan could feel the pleasure flowing out of her. "These are very beautiful," he said in honest fascination. He lifted the bottom of her bra, but her breasts were big enough that it didn't slide over them smoothly. "Let me help," she said and sat up. She unclasped the bra and cast it aside. She turned back to him and lifted his shirt over his head. "Oh," she said, touching the simulated burn on his shoulder with her fingertips. "Does it hurt, Zax?" "It did, until just now," he replied. He had been worried that the sight of the burn might revile her, but Tierra had assured him that a slight wound taken in defense of the girls would turn her on. Cassandra gently kissed it and then climbed into his lap, straddling him. She leaned her head back and offered her breasts to him. He kissed his way down her neck and then buried his face between her breasts. As he kissed them and teased her nipples with his tongue, Zaxan felt her physical passion build. Cassandra was a true romantic, but that didn't preclude her from feeling the lusty desires any teenage girl felt. But Zaxan realized that he felt something within her that he had never felt with Tierra. Buried deep within Tierra was a bit of shame that she was enthralled by the creature that had raped her. She now accepted that he was more than a brute, and had come to care deeply for him, but the shame would always be there for her. With Cassandra her love was given freely to a being she saw as being brave and noble. There was a certainty in her heart that was entirely new to Zaxan. It showed itself by allowing Cassandra to release unreserved passion for him. Each kiss and caress was an opportunity for her to experience romantic perfection. Zaxan alone could not have matched her unrestrained emotion, but he had Cassandra there to fill him with it, and he allowed it all in so that he could give it right back to her. As long as her love was pure, the love she received in return would have the same quality. Zaxan had been content to let the beautiful girl lead in the beginning, but he desired to become more commanding, and he was certain that she wanted him to be that way as well. He brought one leg back underneath him, and almost effortlessly he stood, even with her straddling his lap. She simply clung to him and let him bring her up far enough that she could stand on her feet. Wordlessly, he opened the snap on her shorts and brought the shorts and her panties down to her knees so that she could step out of them. His long hand reached down to her sex and cupped it. Cassandra slowly rose and fell against his fingers, her head snuggled to his chest. Occasionally, she would kiss his chest, but mostly she used it for support so that she could seek pleasure at his fingertips. She had become quite ready to receive him, so she pushed his loose-fitting pants to the floor and let his organ spring free. As he stepped out of his pants, he sensed a thrill from her. She would have had slight worries about what he would look like beneath the trousers, but seeing that he simply offered a large version of what human males possessed, she knew that their coupling would result in physical pleasures that would match the romantic experience they were sharing. "We're much the same, Cassie," he whispered. "I wish that I could make a child with you, but we are vaccinated against that before being allowed to interact with other species." "A child from you would have been beautiful, Zax, and well-loved," she said. He could sense that while she meant it there was some relief there, too. She reached down and took his shaft in her hand and began to stroke it, acquiring a feel for it. While she did it, he could sense her anticipation. She was fairly certain what was to come next and entirely certain that she desired it. Zaxan sank to a knee and gently cradled her in his powerful arms before placing her on her back on the mattress. He moved over her and kissed her as his legs found their way between hers. She spread for him, reaching for his shaft and guiding it in. For the first time in his life, Zaxan penetrated a female who had given herself willingly from the very start. It was an amazing moment for him. Never had anyone given him so much trust. Cassandra strained to take him in, but she was not in pain. She had taken lovers before, just never one with quite his mass. He could sense her ecstasy as he filled her more completely than anything had before. The rest of her body was not idle as her sex accepted him. She kissed his chest and dug her fingers into the flesh of his broad back. Her legs clutched at his bottom and urged him forward. She did not speak, but she gasped and cooed softly as she found gentle pleasures in his lovemaking. After only a few minutes, she sent out vibes that told him that her climax was near at hand. He kept up the gentle pace, and she released with a few soft sounds and an urgent clutching at his back. "Incredible!" she whispered then. "Incredible!" He held her close for a bit, but found that she was beginning to stir beneath him, signaling him that she was ready to continue. He began to move slowly, gradually increasing his pace. He did not stop when he reached the pace he had set before, but continued to make his thrusts more rapid and forceful. Cassandra's body was ready to accept the things that Zaxan's powerful form was capable of doing. He rose to his knees and took her tiny bottom in his hands.He felt her thrill at the display of his strength, so he took her hand and pulled her up into an embrace. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he began to both thrust into her and easily move her petite form up and down. She clung to him desperately, lest she be flung about like a ragdoll. It was a passionate and powerful coupling, but it never veered into anything less than a display of two star-crossed lovers' desperate desire to live their single moment together to the utmost. Cassandra was young and strong and passionate, and the moment was filled with every bit of romance a girl in her late teens could imagine. She found her release a second time. This one was more intense than the first, but it was still quiet. Cassandra buried her mouth in his neck, and her squeals were muffled by it. When she finished, she kissed the side of his neck feverishly as he continued to take her. Zaxan was nearing his moment now, and though he was nearly beyond being capable of thinking, he smiled knowing that she was completely unaware of his final gift for her. He pushed hard and deep into his willing lover's sex, and let his process of release begin. Cassandra's eyes opened wide as his first slow, powerful twitches began deep inside her. She knew he must be beginning to orgasm, and was starting to realize it was going to be far different than any human lover's release. Then, Zaxan's vibratory phase began in earnest. Cassandra had been well-satisfied already, but as the rapid vibrations stimulated her from deep within, she began to lose control. She clubbed Zaxan's broad back with her tiny forearm and then dug her nails into his flesh. She bit into his shoulder and then tossed her head back in a throaty scream. Her third orgasm of their lovemaking shook her to the core of her being. Never had she imagined that pleasure could become so intense that it could make her body react in such a way. Her mind swirled, and her heart shouted to her that this, this was the moment of her life. Never would there be anything like this again. What she was experiencing was beyond what her world had to offer. Then came her lover's actual release, and as her womb was flooded with his jets of lavender, she felt such a bond with him that she wanted to crawl inside of his body and stay there forever. She clung desperately to him and wept tears of joy, love and regret that this was to be their one and only time. Still, she knew that she had experienced something that she could treasure forever, and she was too strong to lapse into bitterness. Her body exhausted, and Zaxan overwhelmed by the power of her emotions, the two lovers wrapped themselves in one another's arms and watched the dawn over the mountains. They kissed many, many times that early morning in the Sandias, and they touched and caressed one another at every moment. Zaxan knew he had her now. The effects of the bonding created by the chemicals he had poured into her at the end of their lovemaking made this girl no less his love slave than Tierra. He could tell her everything, and she would forgive him and desire him and be at his beck and call any time he wanted to enjoy her body again. But he owed her something more than that. He owed her the perfection that could only be offered by playing the scenario to its end. He told her he had to go, and they got dressed. Most of her clothes were in a room only a few feet away from them, but there was something in retrieving them that felt too convenient. Zaxan decided that he wanted to keep them anyway. He was growing sentimental after only two days with humans. Then he realized that human sentiment could offer Cassandra one last meaningful gift. He gave her his shirt, the one with the scorch mark that had come from a fictional ray gun, whatever that was. She wrapped herself in it as if it was the greatest gift any girl had ever received. Zaxan noticed that she sniffed it many times, hoping to embed the memories even deeper than already were. At the end, Cassandra did not weep as he placed her in the transport tube. She was going to be brave for him one final time. "Goodbye, Zax," she said, "I will always love you." "Farewell, Cassie of Earth," he replied. He subtly used his thrall over her. "Remember me, but do not abandon other lovers for the memory. Live happily, love deeply and follow your dreams. I will never forget you." He closed the glass. Cassandra leaned her forehead against it, and he returned the gesture. "Now, Tana," he whispered, and Cassie of Earth disappeared in a shimmer of light. He kept the shuttle in stealth mode and moved it quickly to the park near campus to which he had transported her. He found her sitting on a bench, weeping softly. He watched her through the viewer for some time, and felt a great temptation to go to her and comfort her. But then, she lifted her head, kissed her fingertips, raised them slightly and waved the kiss off to the heavens. She smiled bravely then rose and began to walk back to campus. "Tana, record the last thirty seconds into memory and back it up." "Yes, sugar," Tana said in her sexy voice. "Where would you like me to back it up?" "All possible locations on the shuttle, the cruiser and at home. Never, ever lose that video, understand?" "Understood," Tana said. She used her normal voice. It was almost as if even the computer understood the import of the moment. Zaxan told Tana to return the shuttle to the desert and then headed to his bunk. He'd now known two human girls, and each had provided him with a profoundly emotional experience. Yet each experience had been entirely unique. As his exhausted brain gave way to sleep, he realized that there were over three billion females on this planet, and each and every one of them was probably unique. He would rest now, and dream of Cassandra, but when he had gathered his thoughts he would go back to exploring Earth girls. The human female, he decided, might just be the greatest treasure the universe had to offer.

Authors/Mannheim_Knot/Young Girl Stories/Young SF and Mind Control Stories/Zaxan 2 (mf, rom, alien).txt

Some Random Bastard

Final Fantasy: Epic Proportions Part 4 - Reunion

Zidane woke to the sounds of shouting outside the room. He opened his eyes, his mind groggy, his eyes straining to see in the little light. He got up and looked out the window, only to see the dawn barely rising and already old bucket head was forcing the knights to do morning exercises. He shook his head a few times and sat back on the bed, trying to decide whether he should go back down to sleep or whether he should get up. *What the hell, I'm already up* he thought, and stood up, his body a little weary from the day before. But that wasn't what he was thinking about, not by a long shot. He was so engrossed in thought he didn't hear when Vivi opened the door and came in. "Morning, Zidane," Vivi said, his words shocking Zidane out of his state. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to scare you," he said, fixing his sombrero hat. "I was just thinking about something. Getting up early just isn't for me. And we have the return hike going back in a few hours anyway," Zidane said, scratching the back of his neck. "Yea, I guess. By the way, have you seen Freya? She hasn't been around since early night yesterday, and we should make sure she knows when to leave," Vivi said. "She's...busy right now, I'm sure she'll come out when she's good and ready to. Until then, I'm sure Steiner will be abusing those guys for quite some more time," Zidane said, with a smirk. ----ATE "1-2-3-4. 1-2-3-4." Steiner kept repeating, making sure his troops were in perfect formation, anything less just wouldn't do. *I can't believe he won't let us just sleep in* Haagan thought with a grunt. *I hope this ends soon* Weimar thought, as he tried his best to keep in step. ATE--- Zidane had a rather bland breakfast and strolled outside to see Steiner still abusing the poor soldiers. "Hey, Rusty, when are we gonna get a move on?" Zidane yelled across the field. "We will leave when Freya is prepared! Did I say you can stop! On the double! 1-2-3-4," Steiner yelled across the field. "Then you need not wait any longer," Freya said, stepping from behind Zidane. "I am afraid that I won't be coming along though, I'm sorry but Sir Fratley needs me. Give my deepest regards to the Queen please, Steiner," she said, her voice sullen. "I am sorry to hear that. I trust he will be okay?" Steiner said. "He will, but his leg is badly broken, and we can't lift him out. It would be different if we had the Invincible still, but now we really couldn't without endangering or hurting him," Freya said. "Geez, that's a tough break. Want me to ask if Cid can fly the new Hilda Guard over here to pick you up? I'm sure he would hate for you to have to miss the celebrations," Zidane said. "I wouldn't want to be a pain. I'm sure he has better things to do than to pick up..." she started, when suddenly she heard a low rumbling. "What the...?" Zidane said, jerking his head towards the noise. "Knights of Pluto, at arms!" Steiner said, taking his sword out. "Wait a second, I know that noise!" Zidane said, putting his blade away. "W-what is it, Zidane?" "It's the Theater Ship!" Zidane said, running towards the noise. A few moments later, the massive airship emerged from the tree line. "Come on, it's gonna land over there!" "How do you know that?" Freya asked. "Because I flew this thing here!" Zidane said. * * * "Baku! What the heck are you doing here?" Zidane said as he saw his foster father step off the airship. "Couldn't let you get all the glory. What, you already done here?" Baku said, crossing his arms. "We were just about to get going. Think we can hitch a ride?" Zidane said, in a mock-teenager voice. "What, I came here for my health? Get on already, ya lunkhead," he said, waving his arms. "Wait up, Freya has a friend here that's injured, can we bring him over?" Zidane said. "If ya hurry up. I can't move this thing over anymore, but if he can get here, sure he can come. But let's hurry up, I don't want to miss much of the celebration," Baku said. "Rusty, come over here, and give me a hand," Zidane said. "Ugh, I cannot believe you got us into this," Steiner said, straining to carry the stretcher that contained Sir Fratley's body. "What, getting too much for you, old man?" Zidane asked with a sneer. "Nothing I cannot handle, by the sweat upon your brow I'd say you were the one near exhaustion." "No one said anything about exhaustion there, Rusty." "Oh, do shut up," he said gruffly. ---ATE "Vivi, I'm going to go see if they need a hand, I'll be right back," Freya said, leaping high into the sky. "Heya, Vivi, what's goin' on?" Ruby said, her arm and Blank's joined. "Oh, hi guys. Freya went to go help Steiner and Zidane," Vivi said. "More like to babysit those two." "I know, what in tarnation is wrong with 'em? I mean we've been here what, not a half-hour and they're at each other's necks like a pack'a wild dogs!" Ruby said. "I know, they never fought like this before," Blank said. "I-I," Vivi started, then stopped. "I dunno..." "What is it, Vivi?" Blank said. "Well, I don't think they are fighting, I think Steiner's not sure Zidane is very...king-like." "So what, is it like some kinda test or somethin'?" Ruby said. "M-maybe, but I don't know for sure, it's just what I was thinking." ATE--- "Hey, you guys need some help?" Freya said, making a perfect landing on the ground. "No, problem, I got it," Zidane said, suppressing a grunt as beads of sweat fell off his forehead. "I shall not require assistance in the near future," Steiner said, feeling his body covered in sweat start to shake ever so slightly. "If that's the way you're going to be about it, fine, just don't drop him," Freya said with a sly grin. "Nary a chance," Steiner said, the determination could be heard in his voice. "Don't count on it," Zidane said. "Alright, guys, slow it on down, we're almost there," Freya said, guiding them in. "Did you hear her, fiend? She said slow down!" Steiner said. "Alright, alright, cool your jets," he said, starting to slow down. "Okay, watch it, take him up nice and easy," Freya said. "We set up a room in this closet, it ain't the Ritz, but it's padded enough so he should be pretty well off," Blank said, opening a door near the entrance. "Just let 'im in nice 'n easy," Ruby said, stepping aside to let them put the stretcher in. "Alright, everybody ready?" Baku said, not waiting for an answer before he started up the engine. "Here we go!" Blank said, stepping up to feel the breeze as the massive airship started up. "How are you doing, Vivi?" Freya asked from behind the young mage. He turned around from the edge of the ship and fixed his hat before saying, "P-pretty good, thanks. Why do you ask?" "You always said to get sick on airships...I guess you grew out of that," she said. "I'm surprised you're here, I would have suspected you would be with Sir Fratley," Vivi said. "It wouldn't make much good, the doctor gave him something to knock him out, he'll be gone until after we're at Alexandria," Freya said. "Have you seen Zidane around?" "I saw him up on the top, he said he wanted to get away from Steiner and his Knights," Vivi said. "Alright, thanks, Vivi," Freya said. "Hey," Freya said to Zidane. He was sitting cross-legged, staring out at the landscape as the Prima Vista shot past it. When she spoke, she could sense his body tense up. "Sorry if I startled you there." He sighed and said, "Don't worry about it, I just didn't hear you come up." Freya took a few steps closer and took a look at the majestic view before her. The airship had a view of at least a dozen miles, and she could see all the green valleys, the bright blue skies, the robust green trees below. Everything seemed different, better, since the dissipation of the mist. "I came to talk to you about..." "Let me guess, Garnet?" he said sarcastically. "Yes...Garnet," Freya said, attempting to keep calm. "What about?" he said, avoiding her. "Just what the hell was wrong with you?" Freya said, through with games. "What kind of question is that?" He said, turning his head around."My god, just how dumb are you?" she spat out. "Look, you don't know anything. Just leave me alone," he said, annoyed, and turned his head. "What's with you all of a sudden?" she said, confused at him. Zidane was never one to back down from a fight. "...it's not all of a sudden. Garnet and I had...well, we had something grand. And now I just...went. I-I-I don't know why. I just ran." "Maybe..." "What?" "Maybe you just don't know how to deal with your emotions. Genomes aren't exactly the most romantic people, and you are used to dealing with problems at the end of a dagger. Perhaps you just aren't versed in this kind of struggle," Freya said. "Say what?" "You have neglect issues. You don't know how to deal with your feelings for Garnet, so you put as much distance as you can between yourselves. That way, you don't have to deal with what you don't want to," she said. "Hmm...Where did you come up with all this shrink talk?" "A girl has to have some secrets. Seems I've already talked your ear off. Why don't you mull over what I said and maybe come back later when you're feeling better?" she said, turning back and walking down the stairs. "Hey, little guy, what's goin' on down there?" Baku said, with a laugh. "Oh, h-hi Baku," Vivi said, startled by the large man with his booming voice talking directly to him. "Say, you seen my boy Zidane around here lately?" "Oh, h-he went to the front of the ship. Freya just went to see him a little bit ago," he said. "Hah, could you do me a favor and give him a good talking to? If he won't listen to me, maybe he'll listen to you," Baku said. "Sure," Vivi said, a little intimidated by the large man. "Thanks, I already sent Blank to go speak to him," Baku said, then sighed. "He seemed off lately, ever since the Iifa Tree. I dunno what it is about him, maybe it's her, but sometimes I think he's so caught up in himself he wouldn't know how to unravel himself if he wanted to, which he sure enough don't." "Sup, bro?" Zidane said, talking to his brother in Tantalus who was behind him. "Sup?" Blank said, and sat down next to Zidane. "Well?" Ruby asked. "Well what?" Zidane asked, his eyebrow going up. "Well, ain't'cha gonna tell 'im?" "Tell me what?" "Ruby, can you just let me and Zidane have a guy-to-guy moment here?" "Shucks, you boys get more pigheaded the more you grow!" Ruby said before stomping out. "So what's happening now? Am I gonna get the next version of the 'Stop being stupid' speech? Because Freya already beat you to it." "Beat me to what?" Blank asked. "The whole psychoanalyst junk. Just give me a break and spare me the whole thing." "Want me to spare you? Alright, then indulge me for a minute." "Fine." "Do you love her?" "What?" "Do you love her?" "What the hell business is it to you?" "Just answer the question, bro. Do you love her?" "Alright, yes, dammit, I love her." "Does she love you?" "I think so." "Then just get away from all the stupid bs and be with her." "It's not that simple, there..." "No, it is that simple. Stop thinking and start acting. Start acting like someone who truly belongs in Tantalus." He said, walking out. Before he stepped out the door, he turned, and said, "Oh, and Zidane." Zidane looked over to him. "Whatever happened to that 'give 'em hell' attitude you used to have? Don't let love change you, let it help you grow," he said, stepping out, thankful he remembered that line from the play. "Rasafraskin-stupid Blank gets angered at me 'cuz 'e thinks he's better 'an me, I'll shure show 'im sum-" Ruby said, storming out, and accidentally bumping into Vivi. "Shucks, I'm sirry Vivi, I din't see yous there." "Are you ok, Ruby? You sound a little mad," Vivi said, getting up and fixing his sombrero. "It's jes Blank and Zidane, thinkin' they so smart all the time, like I got notin' good ta say," Ruby said angrily. "Is Blank talking to Zidane now?" "Yer darn tootin' he is. Whatyou need wit them anyways?" "Baku asked me to speak on his behalf." "Shucks, I swear Vivi if it tweren't fir you I'd a thunk all men were as dense as a rock." "T-thanks...I think. What did they do that made you so angry?" "They....shucks, I dunno, Vivi, they jes bugged me 'sal," Ruby said. "I guess they just w'nted to be alone, and I jes w'nted to help." "M-maybe they just needed to be alone." "Whut, like they were intimadated by me or sumpin'?" "M-maybe." "Aw shucks, I dunno. Nevermind, jes ignore me, I'm jes in a bad mood," Ruby said, walking away, noticeably calmer. Vivi watched as Blank stomped out, without saying a word. Vivi jumped back, remembering the effect Zidane had on Ruby. The diminutive mage walked through the doorway and saw Zidane sitting Indian-style, staring outside. "H-Hey, Zidane?" Vivi said. "What's up, Vivi?" Zidane said. "N-not much. Mind if I sit down?" "Not at all. I suppose it's time for you to give me the talk?" "Talk?" Vivi said. "The whole 'Straighten up and fly right, Zidane' talk, the 'Get your head together' talk. I'm just sick of it all, so spare me," Zidane said. "Um, ok, Zidane," Vivi said, sitting down next to him. "It's just everyone is convinced they know what is best for me, and no one cares about asking me. They all force this down my throat. It's just so sickening." "Oh, um..." "And then!" he said, getting up. "Everyone gets angry when I don't follow their 'advice' perfectly!" Zidane said, shaking his arms. "They act like I'm the biggest jerk in the world!" "Well, I..." "I mean, it's not like I'm not listening to what they are saying. I really am. It's just more complicated than they let on. I really do love Garnet. At first, it was just a stupid little boy-meets-girl, boy-wants-girl thing, but I really, truly, started to fall in love with her. That's the problem." "U-um..." "I mean, I can't live without her, but will I be good enough for her? Will my being there be enough? Can I hope to be the princess and the pauper real-life story?" "Y-you..." "But I love her, and that's just it. I love her. So damn it all. Damn the world and damn everyone else. I'm gonna make it work, dammit!" Zidane said, in a reassuring voice. "That's it! Thanks, Vivi, I needed that. Jeez, why did Baku send in everyone before you?" Zidane said before walking out. "Baku," Zidane said from behind his foster father, who was in front of the wheel of the airship. "Yeah, you lunkhead? Finally figured things out?" "Yep," Zidane said. "Gonna return to the castle and work things out?" Baku said. "Yep," Zidane said. "Good," Baku said. "I need one thing first," Zidane said. "What's that?" Baku said. "Let me handle the controls," Zidane said. "Wha...?" Baku started, then grinned. "Heh, that's my boy. The controls are all yours!" "Thanks, dad," Zidane said, grabbing onto the wheel. "So, Vivi, you get anywhere with Zidane?" Blank said. "I-I think so." "Well, whadaya mean you think soooo---!" Blank started, when suddenly the airship shot forward twice as fast as it was going, throwing Ruby into Blank. "Well, well, aren't I the lucky one?" he said, his hands suddenly gripping on Ruby's firm, round bottom. "Oh, behave!" Ruby said. She slowly turned her head back, kissed him slightly on the mouth, and whispered, "Maybe t'night if yer luck'y." "W-what's happening?" Vivi said, holding onto the side of the ship. "Loverboy got hisself de wheel no doubt!" Ruby said, standing herself up. "Zidane's... not the safest pilot. I just hope Sir Fratley will be alright, we boarded him up pretty good, but still, Zidane's...got the need for speed," Blank said. "Zidane, we're approaching Alexandria!" Baku yelled. "ZIDANE! SLOW DOWN!" Marcus screamed at him. "Relax, guys, I know what I'm doing," Zidane said nonchalantly. "That's what we're worried about," Marcus said glumly. He then braced himself for impact. "Here goes!" Zidane said, slamming on the brakes and throwing the airship in a 180-degree turn, stopping it backwards right into the docking bay, a mere 15 feet from the wall. "Shoot, missed it by a little. Mind if I try again?" Zidane said. "Don't you have a girl to catch or something?" Marcus said from under a crushed box. "Right! I'm off!" Zidane yelled as he rushed out. Steiner (with the knights of Pluto, of course) and Vivi were at the ship's ramp, ready to get off as soon as it connected. Steiner pulled out his sword and yanked off his helmet, and proceeded to cut a notch in his sword. Vivi noticed that his helm was literally covered in notches. "U-um, Steiner, what's with the, um, helm holes?" "Oh, these? For every battle won, I make a notch on my helmet. 'Tis an ancient tradition that has gone on for many an age in the order of knighthood," Steiner said with pride in his voice. He was happiest at the times he was doing something worthy of a knight. "Hey, here comes Zidane!" Vivi said, pointing at the top of the airship. They all watched as he did a classic Zidane move, instead of walking down the stairs, he slid off an old rope, breaking it at the bottom in a stunning move of luck and agility. "Hmph, about time you arrived. Nice flying, I think if we blindfolded Weimar here, he could have done better," Steiner said gruffly. "Hey, Zidane has a place to put notches too, but this one is on his belt," Vivi said. "Alright, where's the Queen? Anyone got a breath mint?" Zidane asked, quickly changing the subject. "The Queen!" Steiner shouted. "Will meet us here promptly to receive the report of our actions! And not a moment later!" "Geez, calm down, Rusty. Here they come now," Zidane said, pointing at two figures walking over. "T-they?" Vivi asked, squinting his eyes."The Queen and General Beatrix, Vivi!" Zidane said with pride, holding his chest out and beating it as Garnet and Beatrix came into view. To Zidane, it felt like it was hours, but mere seconds later they were at hand. "My Queen," Steiner said, bowing. Zidane and Vivi quickly imitated him. "How was the battle, Steiner?" "We succeeded. There was only one injured, Sir Fratley, but he is safe and sound mending his leg. We have dispatched the snake with the quickest of ease. We truly are in debt to the volunteers, without the masterful magics of Vivi or the expertise of Freya and," he coughed before saying, "Zidane, there surely would have been more injuries." "Excellent news, Steiner," Beatrix said. She looked over the proud man. She saw out of the corner of her eye Zidane winking at Garnet. "Steiner, I'm afraid I'm feeling a bit tired as of now. If you wouldn't mind, could you finish the report tomorrow?" "As you wish, my Queen," Steiner said. "And Zidane, I think we have something to talk about," Garnet said, turning her back. She turned her head half around and said, "Dismissed." Zidane stood outside of Garnet's room, waiting for his cue to be allowed to enter. He suddenly heard the door open, but there was only Beatrix. "Zidane, the Queen says you may enter," Beatrix said, saluting him before she started leaving. "What's with the salute?" "You risked your life in the name of Alexandria and its allies without needing a reason to. In my eyes, as well as the Alexandrian Knights, you are one of us," she said before heading down the hall. "Hey, Beatrix!" Zidane yelled from up the hall. When she turned around, he saluted, smiling. *And now, the makeup,* he thought as he entered her room. "Garnet?" Zidane said louder than he intended. He didn't see her, and his first thought was panic. "I'm over here, on the terrace," Garnet said softly, almost quietly. Zidane found her, wearing her old yellow-orange adventure clothes with her puffy white shirt. "So," Garnet said. "So," Zidane said, scratching the back of his neck. There was a long and awkward silence before he moved towards the end of the terrace. He stared at the beautiful sunset over the mountain pass, a byproduct of having lived with the mist is the beautiful sunsets and rises. He reached for the pebble and felt the rough texture of the small rock in his hand. "Ever have everything to say but have no way to say it?" Garnet nodded, but Zidane didn't look back. "I keep feeling like no matter what I do or say, I keep feeling or doing something wro---!" Zidane started saying, when he was yanked around 180 degrees and suddenly found himself in the middle of a French kiss with the Queen of Alexandria. Garnet broke the kiss and without a word went to the door of her room, gave Zidane a come hither look, and went inside. *Hamina hamina hamina whaaa* Zidane thought, before he dashed inside. Garnet was sitting up on the corner of the bed. "Zidane," she said softly, her actions a dichotomy of happiness and remorse, "I...I don't know what to say." He could see a tear come to her eye, and he dashed over next to her on the bed, pulling out his napkin. "It's just I have so many emotions, so many feelings, and I don't want to ruin anything, but everything I do just seems to ruin everything," she sniffed, "and I don't want to mess with anything, but it's just so frustrating and I, I, I just don't know what to do," she blurted out, leaning on Zidane's shoulder. "I think now," Zidane said, uncharacteristically softly, "isn't the time to be following thought, or reason, or logic. It's the time to follow our hearts." Garnet looked up at him, her eyes clear of tears as Zidane said the following: "Garnet, I love you with all of my heart and soul." She started crying again, this time almost uncontrollably. Zidane started to slowly move away from her, when she said, "N-no, they're happy tears. I love you too, Zidane!" she said, nearly pouncing on him, holding him in her tight embrace. As she held him closer, she could feel his breathing become strained, and to his surprise, kissed him once more. This kiss, however, was not just an ordinary kiss. It was not just a meaningful kiss. This was a kiss made only for lovers. Garnet broke away, shocking Zidane for a moment. She reached onto the back of her overalls and removed the two clips holding the orange garment up. Zidane's eyes followed it as it fell, exposing the beautiful curves of her body supported by her elegant pearly white legs. She leaned over Zidane, pushing him down gently so he was lying on his back. She kissed him once more, feeling his hands explore her curves as they continued kissing. She also let her hands roam, gently unbuttoning his pants, springing forth his throbbing member. She felt his pulse going wild through the engorged organ, feeling his entire body jolt at the touch. She quickly removed her white shirt, exposing her fully erect nipples to the warm humid air. She started kissing him, gradually going lower, starting first with his chin, moving lower, pulling his shirt away and onto his chest, going still lower until she was face to organ with his massive member. Zidane's eyes shot open at the realization of what she was going to do. The Queen slowly let her tongue out, tasting for the first time the taste of her lover. Zidane let out a silent cry of pleasure as he felt her hot, warm tongue, little by little, glide across his penis, sending sheer bolts of almost unbearable pleasure. She was gradually picking up pace as she coated the shaft of his member. She took her time, gingerly teasing his member, before she let her lips find the very tip of the head. She let her face start to fall down, bringing his cock into her mouth. Zidane was going crazy, the feelings going off in his mind were insane. She worked her way down, lower and lower, looking at Zidane while she did, admiring the pleasure she was inflicting on him. She could feel her hair drop down, getting in the way of her job. Zidane noticed too, and was quick to offer help, guiding her hair back up every few seconds. She worked more and more of his member in, feeling his penis press up against her tonsils. She relaxed her jaw muscles, allowing still more of his member inside. She knew she was past the point where anymore of him could fit inside her mouth, and when she looked up, she was surprised she had engulfed all of it. She began to work her mouth up and down on his member, the friction was so great it must have felt like a vice. Her mouth was extremely hot, almost as much as the outside. Sweat was forming on Zidane's brow as he knew he was about to blow his load. "G-g-g-ohh-Garnet!" "Mhm? (what?)" Garnet asked, pausing for a mere fraction of a second before returning to her action. "I-ah-I-i-i-I AH!" he said as his entire body shot forward, the force of his orgasm draining almost all of his consciousness. The Queen could taste his ejaculate as it came out, falling almost into her belly. She brought more of his member out, tasting the strong taste of his cum as he emptied himself inside her mouth. After he finished, he realized what just occurred. *shitshitshitshitshitshitfuckshitshitfuckfuckfuckfuckshitshitfuckfuckfuck* "Oh-oh my god, I-I'm so sorry, Garnet. I didn't mean t-to." "Don't worry," she said, while unbeknownst to her, a small drop of semen escaped out the corner of her lips. Upon seeing that, Zidane got his second wind. "Your turn," he said, picking her up and placing her dainty naked body down on her stomach. As he stood behind her, he admired her robust form for a moment. He took great pleasure from admiring her naked flesh, the contours of her body, the curvature of her hips, her sweet smell. He noticed also that she was completely hairless below the waist. He didn't know why, but he didn't think much to ask. "Zidane?" Garnet said after a minute or two. "Yes?" Zidane said. "What are you doing?" "Admiring your body." "Well, what are you doing just standing there?" she said, almost demanding an answer. Zidane smacked himself on the head before he went to action. He bent down on his knees, approaching the Queen's backside. He was amazed at just how beautiful her rump felt, but that wasn't the area of concern for him. He was more concerned with his immediate objectives. He lowered his head down further until he was almost face to orifice with her moist pussy. He took but a moment to inspect before he let his tongue escape their white captives, tasting her sweet, sweet essence for the first time. He let his tongue first encircle her outer lips, making Garnet quiver as she felt the tingle down there. His tongue began to explore her vagina, seeking out what he was looking for, the clitoris. Garnet could feel her body heating up faster than she thought possible. She had masturbated before, but not nearly so often, and she could never get herself nearly as hot before after thirty minutes of her own handiwork, let alone it took him about three minutes. She felt her nipples turn to rocks, and her clit almost immediately became aroused. Zidane found the object of his attention, and with a quick shot of the tongue, he was on it. Garnet felt shocks of beautiful pleasure jolt through her entire being as Zidane curved his tongue in a 'U', massaging her clit, changing from soft to hard and back again. She could feel her hips nervously twitch. Zidane put one hand on each globe of her behind, keeping her in place. Garnet couldn't believe the pleasure she was feeling, her entire body spasmed at each movement of his tongue. She was on the verge of a major orgasm, and she knew it. Zidane continued with his actions, and he knew she was on the edge. He tormented her for a little, bringing her right to the edge and stopping.He finally brought her to the cliff and beyond, making her cry out in pleasure as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her entire body arched, pushing herself into Zidane's face. Her entire body tingled and shook with pleasure as her mind was set afire with ecstasy. Her body reeled with an indescribable amount of bliss surging through her entire essence. Despite everything that was happening to her body, Zidane stayed with her, never stopping for a second to keep her going. After the longest, most powerful orgasm she had, her body relaxed. Garnet turned around, her entire body soaked with sweat, and the room was full of her aroma. As she lay there, on her back, her legs open and her pussy now soaked through and through, she had a chance to see with the last embers of the sun's light Zidane's fully erect penis glistening with her saliva. "Zidane," she said in between pants. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Garnet?" Zidane said, cracking his jaw back into place. Garnet nodded. "Then away, we go," he said, his body moving like a flash towards her. A moment later, he was kissing her, his penis at the entrance to her soaked pussy. Using his tail as a prop, he slowly brought it forward, bringing it slowly inside of Garnet's soaked pussy, feeling her warmness surround his member. She was still very tight, but now her wetness provided enough lubricant so he could begin to press forward. While he thrust his member forth, he turned his attention towards her breasts. Her nipples were hard as a rock and very sensitive; with every move of his tongue, Garnet moaned with pleasure. She could feel his member's girth press forward into her; she felt the muscles of her vagina strain to give way, each movement of friction a new trail of delight to her body, each thrust setting off a new flame of lust in her body as well as her mind. Zidane continued his almost fluid motion, attempting to get himself in a set pattern. His body, however, told him he was nowhere near capable of holding out for very long. As he propelled forward, he attempted meagerly to think of something, anything else, but the naked figure of Garnet's body wasn't helping. He heard Garnet's soft moans, almost whimpers, and he knew she was near an orgasm of her own, still riding partly on the crest of her last orgasm. He increased his pace, feeling the sweat begin to accumulate on his brow. In and out, in and out, he built up speed with each driving force, each push bringing another moan, every pull bringing out a slight whimper. He felt a surge of adrenaline push him forward, his mind now blurring as he neared further and further to climax. Garnet moaned as his speed continued to accelerate; his hips were becoming nearly hazy. Suddenly, Garnet's hips locked down just as Zidane himself was finishing off. Zidane pressed his face against hers, and their lips intertwined as they each experienced orgasms of massive proportions. While Garnet's body writhed under him, Zidane released his load inside of Garnet. As both of their orgasms crashed against one another, they only proved to drive them further into pleasure. Zidane could feel his orgasm subside and opened his eyes to see that he was still kissing Garnet and she was still in the midst of her own climax. Moments later, he felt Garnet's body grow almost limp, and her eyes slowly start to groggily open. They lay there a minute more, peering deep into one another's eyes, before broke off the warm embrace and mouthed, "Garnet, I love you." Steiner went to his room and removed his helm. It had been a long and tiring couple of days, both mentally and physically. "I am getting too old for this," he muttered to himself, removing his heavy armor from his body, feeling the load he knew so well rise from him. He sat in his favorite chair next to his bed and removed his boots. He inspected them for a moment, noticing the deterioration from recent use. *I'll probably end up getting a new one,* he thought as he wiped the sweat off his brow. The heat this time of the year was bad enough, but trekking the last day and having to deal with Zidane was just too much. Steiner took from his shirt a key that was attached on a necklace. He brought the key to a drawer, secretly stashed under his bed. As he opened the drawer, he could see the dust rise. He pulled out an old book, marked with age and poor handling. As he opened the book, he felt like his whole lifetime came back to him. He read the first page on the inside: "Journal of: Aldebert Steiner." As he sifted through the pages, he remembered his life as a soldier, his early days as a mere man-at-arms, his raising to Captaincy, and his formation of the Knights of Pluto. As he sat there looking in on the book, he realized just how long he had been in service to Alexandria. "Interesting read?" Beatrix said, standing in front of him, watching as the unusually unarmored Captain sat with a book in his hand instead of a sword. Steiner sighed and said, "I suppose you could say that." "Well, what is it?" she asked. "It is my journal," Steiner said, his cheeks starting to turn pink. "Journal?" Beatrix said in puzzlement; she had never heard him talk of such a thing. "Yes, my journal. In my day, all soldiers and knights were instructed to keep a journal, a personal log of the events of the day. I don't think the Alexandrian soldiers do it now, but I try to have my men fill them out," Steiner said with a sigh, closing the book. "This is the first I've heard you mention it," Beatrix said, surprised at the notion there was something he was keeping hidden. "Such things aren't really common talk; there has always been a fear that some knights would record private information in their logs," Steiner said, repeating a phrase he was sure was in the training manual he read so long ago. "Still, you never told me about it," Beatrix said, starting to understand the need for such a secret. "I suppose I didn't, no," Steiner said glumly. "You should consider having it published; I'm sure that people would pay a fortune for it. It must be a fantastic story!" Beatrix said, trying to cheer him up. "I'm sure it would be a fantastic story. A story of fights spanning decades, of wars and pestilence and disease and fire. Of battles with inhuman monsters, and of watching my fellow men around me drop as casualties." He paused a moment, like the last word got caught in his throat. "Of watching the king die, the Queen-Former Queen fall under the control of Kuja while I was too stupid to know what was going on. Of the destruction of Burmecia and Lindblum and Alexandria." He paused a moment, like the last word got caught in his throat. "I'm afraid my life as a soldier hasn't yielded much in the way of a fanciful tale." "Steiner, don't be like that..." "Like what? It's true, you know. Sit for a moment, and indulge me while I tell you a story." He said, patting on his bed. As she sat, he thumbed his way to a page number near the center of the journal. "The Journal of Aldebert Steiner, Day XX Month XX Year XXXX. The battles these last few days have been horrific. The enemy has besieged us and brought everything they had against us, but the King would not allow surrender or defeat. Even when the Captains died, he pressed on. In a final last chance attempt, myself and others from my battle group joined up alongside the King and his Knights. We headed alongside the river with the aid of night, and found our way to the enemy camp while they still sat, sleeping. With a mighty cry of 'For Alexandria!!!' from the King, our entire group attacked their formation, slaying the entirety of the foul enemy, many of whom could barely arm themselves before death. It was then the king jumped up on his White Chocobo, and proclaimed our victory. Though the battle itself was not without loss. Almost 90% of the entire army was decimated, including all of my battle group. And tonight, of all things, the King has come in and handed me official papers, signed himself. I am to be a Captain, and a Knight. I can only hope that my new position will allow Alexandria to be spared from such horrors are before." "When I was 24 years old. It was when I was 24 years old. And everything I tried to achieve as Captain has been for naught. There has only been more death and more horrors. Nothing good has come of it. If only I were better, if only I had the intelligence to give forethought as to what was happening. Instead, I failed not only Alexandria, but myself as well," Steiner said, sighing. "Steiner..." Beatrix said, inching close. ***SMACK*** "Don't you ever talk like that! Those weren't your fault and you know it! You saved the world for Chrissake! I was in the same boat, and it's not like I noticed a thing, in fact it took me even longer to realize than you!" Beatrix said, watching the now doubtful Captain lift his eyes from his book. "What got this into you anyway?" "Him?" "Who?" "You know who, Zidane." "What about Zidane made you think about this?" "I'm not getting any younger, Beatrix. All I can see about my career is me trying to pick up the pieces of what I left broken. I don't want to see that anymore. It's not good enough for the Queen, and it's not good enough for Alexandria!" Steiner said with feeling. "So what, you want to live vicariously through Zidane?" "No! I want Zidane to learn from my mistakes." "And how will he do that, by you barking orders at him?" "No, I suppose not. I just want so much for the Queen." "Sometimes when you look too far, you end up losing sight of your goal." "So you think I should apologize to Zidane?" Steiner said. "Maybe. Or maybe you should give him some reading material," she said, patting the journal. "Yes, I suppose so," he said, putting the journal on the stand next to his bed. "What did you want?" "Pardon?""Beatrix said, with a puzzled look on her face. "You came in here, what did you want?" he said. "I just wanted to see you, Aldebert," she said, reaching over to him and kissing him on the lips. Whenever she wanted him to know they were strictly talking personally, she used his first name. And if that never failed, a kiss certainly would get his attention. "Now come on over here and get the spoils of victory!" she said, jumping onto his bed on her back. Steiner was quick to act, and despite his feelings of being old, he was on top of her moments later. His lips were quick to move as his hands fumbled on her breastplate, slowly attempting to detach it as he felt her hands explore his body. He always felt oddly vulnerable whenever he was not wearing his armor, but the feeling of her cool fingers dancing along his body both freaked him out and turned him on. He finally undid the plate, and lay there a moment, in awe of the beauty of her bountiful breasts. He could feel his member quickly become erect, as the combined sight of his lover topless in front of him and her rambling hands were a petrifying combo. Well, they were at least turning part of him to stone. As he began to kiss down her neck, he gasped as he felt her hands enter his underpants, touching his now fully erect member. Beatrix smiled as she began to slowly rub the rather large phallus. Not to be outdone, he quickly turned his attention to her large breasts and her particularly large silver dollar-sized nipples. She moaned as he toyed with them, gently nibbling on her incredibly sensitive nipples. She could feel her areolas were on fire as Steiner continued. She let go of his member for a moment, only to wiggle her cute and well-toned behind out of her uniform. Steiner let his hands meander towards the curves of her body. As he drew closer to in between her legs, he could feel her warm, sticky juices already flowing. He began to slowly massage outside her vagina, slowly at first but building in speed as he could feel her get more and more aroused. He slowly inserted one finger, gently bringing it in and out in a continuous loop, exciting Beatrix more and more. Beatrix was now busy trying to remove his shorts. *What does it keep getting stuck on?* she thought, feeling her way down. She was surprised when she found that his penis seemed larger than usual, and the material of his pants wasn't flexible enough to allow passage. After a little bit of maneuvering, she was finally able to free his member. She gently pressed him down on his back. She then squatted on his face while bringing her face to his wang, into a 69 position. Before she opened her mouth, Steiner was a step ahead of her, tasting her sweet, sweet womanhood and lapping at the delicious nectar. She moaned as she felt his tongue glide along her clitoris. She took a moment longer before starting to give his penis some more attention. She began to jerk it slowly, building up steam. She could already see the pre-cum building up at the surface. She let out a tongue and caught a drop of his seed. She started to let her tongue glide across the shaft of his penis, never staying in one place for too long or staying in contact for too long. As she continued to glide more and more, she could feel his body start to jerk about, the pleasure too much for his well-disciplined body to handle. *Enough is enough, Beatrix,* she thought as she opened her mouth and brought it to the very top of his penis, slowly bringing the member into her mouth. Steiner continued increasing his pace as she fit more and more of his member into her mouth. She now had over half of his member in her mouth and she hadn't even started to slow down. He started sucking on her clitoris, feeling the hard, sensitive little nub react to his attention. That sent a jolt of pleasure down her spine as she could feel herself building up. As her body came closer and closer to climax, she began to buckle her hips and take more of his 'sword' into her mouth. Right when she was on the edge of climax, she used all of her determination and moved away, stopping both of their orgasms together. "Just one moment, loverboy," she said wickedly. She brought her body to his penis, squatting down on his massive member, feeling the length and girth of his member press up against the very walls of her vagina. She was no first-timer, but she had always had a rather tight body, inside and out, and Steiner was giant. It wasn't a minute later when she felt herself back on the edge of orgasm. Steiner was nearly there as well, his penis still lubricated with the saliva of his lover. Just a moment later, and their bodies shook in unison as an earth-shattering orgasm overtook them. Spurt after spurt of semen flew from Steiner's penis deep into her pussy as her body nearly went into seizures from the pleasure she was feeling. She was off the world, every breath was labored, every nerve was pleasure, and every bead of sweat was merely the means of pleasure to her. Steiner felt himself empty what seemed like a gallon of cum inside of his lover, as he continued to pump throughout both of their orgasms. She could feel her body nearly fill up with his man jam as she pulled on her own nipples, bringing even more pleasure to her pleasure-filled body. For what seemed like an eternity, they lay there, each having their own orgasm, until finally, Steiner felt himself stop. Coincidently, Beatrix was just finishing her own orgasm off as well. As he pulled his now softened dick out of her, he felt a breath of relief enter his lungs. He was happy, and he had the woman he loved. And if that wasn't enough, then life wasn't enough for him. Epilogue, the next morning... Beatrix woke early, she had a job and she could not afford to waste time. She took Steiner's journal and found a delivery box. Placing it into the box, she gave one last consideration to whether this was the appropriate course of action to take. Finally deciding that it was, she sealed the envelope, addressing it to Zidane, and placed it outside the Queen's chambers. Maybe she was doing the wrong thing, maybe she was doing the right thing, but it didn't matter to her anymore, she was doing the thing she had to do, and that was all she knew how to do. With a barely audible drop, she walked away, back towards her room. She still had to bathe and change and be ready to wake at the crack of dawn for her daily duties. Still, she had a feeling the Queen might be a bit preoccupied. Nonetheless, that wasn't going to stop her from her duties."

Final Fantasy: Epic Proportions Part 4 - Reunion

Authors/srb/www/finalfantasyix4.txt

Some Random Bastard

Final Fantasy 9: Epic Proportions Part 1 - It Begins

Zidane got up with a start. The weather in Alexandria this time of the year was unbearable. He got up from his bed and walked out to the terrace to get a breath of fresh air. A lot had happened for the young man. He had gone from actor/thief all the way to someone who saved the world. He had been one of the first people in recorded time to travel the world, he fought off the worst of foes, and even was forced to fight his own brother before he could finally claim victory. *But that was nothing compared to now,* he thought, as he looked out to the moons. He had come here and barely had enough time to embrace the princess *no, Dagger* before everything got rushed in its own way. He was given a guest room, but by the time he had settled in, Garnet had literally dozens of things. "So there you are," he heard a voice behind him, the sweetest voice he could imagine. "I was wondering when I might have a private audience with her majesty," he said as he turned around, with a grin on his face from ear to ear. "Oh, you're terrible," she said, as she cocked her head to one side. "So how's things?" Zidane said, sitting down, his back against the cool wall. "Is that all you have to say?" Garnet said, raising an eyebrow. "What?" "You leave me ever since the final confrontation, and in all this time you couldn't send a letter to say 'Hi, by the way, I'm alive'?" She said, her voice stern but not mean. Garnet was upset, but she had learned more patience than a girl ought to know. "So you want to hear it all then? Fine, I suppose it was going to happen in any case," He said, his eyes glancing down to a small pebble on the ground. He reached for the pebble and felt the rough texture of the small rock in his hand. "I suppose, it starts from when I went down The Iifa Tree," he said with a sigh. The Queen sat next to him as he continued. "As I made my way down, the tree roots were like alive tentacles, shooting after me like they could zone in on me. With a little skill and a lot of luck, I got the drop on where Kuja was. He was lying down, still glowing from his trance. He seemed unable to move, but I think he could have a bit of fight left in him." "We talked for a while, about nothing much. It was like we both knew about the entire story, but we both ignored it, like long distant relatives ignoring a long-standing grudge," he said, his voice cracking a little bit. "After a few minutes, the roots came en masse, and I tried to move Kuja, maybe pull him away from that god-forsaken tree," Zidane said, fighting a small tear welling up in his eye. "But he wouldn't budge, he used himself as a human shield to protect me." "I escaped, but barely. I was alone on the continent though, save the dwarves and a few moogles. I didn't have much of a choice, but to continue on. The mages and the Genomes couldn't give me much help. With a long amount of time, and quite a bit of luck, I was able to make a small boat with some help. Stiltskin, the moogle, gave me some help. I don't think I ever would have gotten out of there if it wasn't for him." "When I made the boat, I didn't know anything about the currents of the oceans or the way of the winds, since I, we, had always traveled with a motorized craft. I was out to sea for about a month, I guess, there with Stiltskin. We didn't have much to do, except for talk. We told each other stories from our travels. I know now every moogle by first and surname," he said with a snicker. He took his arm and wiped away the small tear going down his cheek. He was glad Garnet didn't notice it. "After a while, we were running low on water. I was afraid we wouldn't make it, that I wouldn't see..." He said, and cleared his throat. "Finally, we made it to a port. I was surprised when I recognized it to be Lindblum. I was even more surprised to find that most of the city was repaired after..." he started, but he knew how much trouble Garnet had with her mother's actions. "I made my way to the Tantalus hideout, but no one was there. It was a few days before anyone came back, apparently their airship broke down in a testing phase and they had to walk back. I was afraid that the first family I ever knew had abandoned me, or maybe worse..." Zidane said, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "First family?" Garnet said, a little puzzled. "Yeah...Baku adopted me when I was young, and I never really had much of a family, save for my brothers in Tantalus. But when I left them and started traveling with you guys, I fell like I started a second family. Not a family in the traditional sense, I guess, more of a family in the sense of a team, fighting together," Zidane said. "Anyways, my brothers in Tantalus couldn't believe I was alive. They were going to bring me to Alexandria immediately, but the shipping lines for the airships were bust since there was no more mist. They wanted me to be a surprise, and they were afraid if they told Regent Cid that he would tell you. So they waited for Cid to finish the new Theater Ship 'Prima Vista 2' and the latest Hilda Guard." "The day finally came when we would fly to Alexandria. I could barely keep my heart rate under a million as the day went by. All throughout the play, I thought my head would burst. I was paranoid that I would mess up a line or that someone would recognize me. I could barely breathe it seemed." "And the rest," he began, "is history," he said, as he threw the pebble, it barely made an audible sound as it bounced away. He looked up, seeing Garnet literally hanging on his every word, her beautiful round eyes reflecting the moonlight. She took her arms, thrusting them about either side of him as she kissed him. He was taken off guard, but he quickly let his hands do the work, making up for lost time. He roamed her body, gently taking in her curves and her scent as their lips intertwined. He moved his kisses further and further down her neck, taking it nice and easy, enjoying his way down. Zidane took a look at her small nightgown, it was a blood-red silk thing that barely covered her when she tried, let alone now. He pulled the silk fabric down, revealing her full breasts. Zidane looked at her face and saw her nod, as he took one of her mounds, gently grasping it as he let his tongue taste the nipple of the other. Garnet was amazed at his skills, *how many other girls has he done this with?* she thought, but her thoughts were quickly changed to that of pleasure as his attention to her breasts made her nipples get almost painfully erect. Zidane was taking his time, enjoying his handiwork. He played first with one breast, gently rubbing the nipple while he used his mouth to first savor the sweet taste of her body and then placing part of the breast in his mouth, literally sucking on her breasts. Meanwhile, Zidane's tail was going on a magical mystery tour, working its way slowly up her dress, almost tickling her perfect thighs as it brought the dress up, saving Zidane the trouble. He was quick to relieve his tail of the trouble, as he let one of his arms loose to pick up where he had left off. Using his right hand, he was able to feel how wet the outer thighs of her body had gotten. "Let's move this to someplace more private," Garnet said, knowing that there would be a guard coming, if they already hadn't come yet. Zidane carried her in his arms and made his way quickly into the castle. He had dreamed of her every night since, and now his fantasy was becoming reality. Garnet let her head lie back. She had many sleepless nights, wishing that he would come. She always wanted to thank him, he had always been there, and now, lying in his strong arms, she knew just the way to repay him. Although she hardly considered it a chore. Zidane brought her to the young queen's bed and let her down gently, looking at the willing look in her face as he pulled his arms back. He quickly disrobed, and Garnet was amazed to see the first penis she had ever seen. She had lived a sheltered life, and her life outside the castle was brief, and it didn't include peep shows. Garnet pulled off the small silk nightshirt, tossing it aside as her eyes were unwavering, amazed at the idea that this morning she planned to watch a play and meet some old friends, and now she was going to have sex for her first time. Zidane got on the bed, crawling over her body until his lips found their destination.He used his hands, gently massaging her vagina as their lips embraced. He was surprised at how wet she was down there, but he was still afraid that there wouldn't be enough lubricant for sex. Garnet looked up, into the young hero's eyes, and hugged him close, whispering in his ear only "Please, be gentle" as she spread her legs further, almost at a 90-degree angle, to try to give Zidane as much space as he needed. She was no stranger to the idea of sex, but she was afraid that he would be too big, and she still had her hymen. Zidane took his member and gently positioned himself with her body. He took great caution in setting himself up, taking every step to protect her from harm. He gently thrust his penis in, pushing in the first two inches of his seven-inch cock. Garnet bit her lip, she was expecting more pain, but instead her body reacted almost singularly with pleasure. Until Zidane found himself at her hymen. He looked at Garnet, she only said "Remember what I said" before looking up at the ceiling. Zidane pressed forward, popping her cherry. Garnet gasped, her body suddenly spiked with pain as she felt the almost stabbing pain in her body. Zidane stopped, and pulled his member out a bit. He took his hand and held hers, and looked her in the eyes. After a couple of minutes, the pain subsided, and Garnet gave him a nod. Zidane continued his action, pressing forward slowly, feeling her pussy muscles begin to ease up, allowing more and more of his dick in her as he began to thrust forward. It wasn't long before his entire shaft was in her, from tip to ball sack. Garnet felt a wave of relief shroud her body, but that relief was quickly replaced with pleasure, as Zidane began to get a slow pace going. Zidane began pumping his dick into her virgin love hole, feeling the heat and the friction against his member as he continued on his course. He was loving this, it was, to him, nirvana. He continued to speed up his pace, worried first about her safety and second about his. Garnet was going on fire as she could feel his speed increase, bringing her closer and closer to...what? *Oh my god, I've never climaxed before, I wonder what it will be like?* she thought as she felt him going quicker and quicker. Zidane could feel Garnet was getting closer and closer, and he took his tail and began to play with her clit, his now soaked tail gently playing with the nub, massaging it as he continued his forward movement. Garnet's mind was going wild, each thrust forward felt like a climax, but she couldn't be sure until the next wave of pleasure hit her body. Then finally Garnet felt herself leave the plane of existence, as her entire body shook with pleasure. Her pussy muscles clamped down on his member, bringing him to climax. All the young queen could feel was his spurting deep inside of her, each spurt of hot jizzum like a fiery spike of passion driven deeply within her. Garnet's body collapsed, her mind barely registering anything but the overwhelming flood of pleasure that enveloped her brain. She didn't register Zidane removing his member, or him lying down next to her. A few minutes later she returned to Earth, but she didn't care about being the Queen, or saving the Earth. As she wrapped her arm around her lover, she only cared about one thing: love.

Authors/srb/www/finalfantasyix1.txt

Bradley Stoke

Dinner is Served

Zoe felt quite excited as she pushed open the door to the flat she shared with Esther. Tonight was the night of the dinner party for which they'd been preparing for such a long time. Ever since the last such party, in fact. That one had been such a success that they could hardly wait to get another organized. She smiled at her reflection in the hall mirror as she slipped off the denim jacket she'd been wearing. It had been so much fun that her pussy had been sore for a week. She could hear a chop chop chop sound coming from the kitchen. "Esther! Is that you?" Zoe cried. "Of course. Who else could it be? I'm just preparing the vegetables. Do you want to come and help?" "I'll have to change first," Zoe laughed, glancing down at her smart casual cotton trousers and blouse. She wandered into the kitchen, where Esther stood with her back to her, busy slicing up the courgettes and aubergines. "Hey, you've hardly got anything on." Esther turned round to face Zoe. "What do you mean? I'm wearing an apron." This much was true. The straps were over the shoulders and the bib came halfway down her thighs, but from behind all Zoe could see was naked flesh and Esther's pert round bum. "I'm just getting into the mood for the party." "Ooh!" Zoe sighed, taking her flatmate by her shoulders and resting her chin on her bare shoulder. "Just seeing you like this makes me feel pretty much in the mood already." Esther lay down her knife and turned round to face Zoe, so that the stiff cold plastic of the apron, and its pictures of pre-Raphaelite nudes, were pressed against Zoe's blouse. She stood on her toes so that her mouth was the same height as Zoe's mouth and kissed her tenderly on the lips. "I know! Just having you here makes me feel pretty much in the mood already. But we haven't got the time. There's a lot of preparation to get through before the guests arrive. And besides, I don't want to be worn out before the party's even begun!" Zoe laughed, and kissed Esther full on the mouth, while looping an arm around her bare waist. "You're so right. I'll prepare the dining room and everything else before I join you in preparing the food. I'm sure you can manage on your own for just a little longer." The excitement just kept on building until the food was at last ready and placed in the oven, the carpet vacuumed and the places laid at the table for all the guests. Zoe counted the chairs. There were nine chairs laid out, and the tenth one could be pulled in should there be an extra guest. Zoe visualized her guests. Places for Adrian and Steve, Jane and Martin, Noelle and Mark, and, of course, Pauline who never seemed to have a steady partner but never seemed to have any difficulty in picking up casual ones. She totted it up. Four men. Five women. More women than men. Not that Zoe really minded. She'd never really been sure what her preference was. But as she thought about the feel and thrust of a good man's cock, she wasn't sure that the balance was really right. Anyway, how could she be sure that Adrian and Steve would willingly share themselves with the girls? And when she said 'girls', she really meant herself. Bach's Adagio and Fugue trilled down the hallway in a rendition the German master would probably not have been flattered by. Zoe picked up the phone. "Hi! Who is it?" she asked breathlessly. This was always her biggest fear before a party. Someone ringing in to say they couldn't come. It was Pauline. Shit! Zoe almost said out loud. That girl was so unreliable. No wonder she never kept her boyfriends for more than a week at a time. But Zoe needn't have worried. Pauline had met a man a few days ago at the office restaurant, and she'd invited him to come over that night. And then she'd noticed that the date clashed with the party, so she wondered whether she could bring him along. His name was Nigel. Zoe smiled. If nothing else it evened up the numbers. Perhaps she'd get a bit of cock tonight after all. "Of course he can come. The more the merrier. But make sure you bring enough wine. We've only got the one crate in." Pauline laughed on the other side of the phone. "And I'll bring a dildo as well. You'll love it, Zoe. It's a real wowser!" Zoe could feel the juice between her legs loosen with anticipation. "As long as you bring yourself along. That's what really matters." It took ages for Zoe and Esther to work out what to wear to the party as the food was slowly cooking in the oven. Zoe settled on a black blouse that opened ever so revealingly to reveal the swell of her relatively modest bosom, and a short skirt that rode quite high up her slim thighs. Esther was typically less modest, choosing a top that bared her arms and waist, and emphasized her much larger breasts. She chose not to wear a skirt or trousers, but a strap-on dildo that dangled down onto her inner thigh. It looked quite realistic with plastic veins and a bulbous head. She combed her straight dyed-blonde hair, which framed her face and showed off the beauty of her long neck. Zoe's own hair was bushy and dark brown, and showed off her own slim neck and angular shoulders. She gazed at her reflection. Her eyelids were light blue and her lips were painted a dark seductive red. Behind her she could see the dildo bouncing up and down, and swaying side-to-side as Esther vigorously combed her hair. God! Zoe could really do with a cock tonight! A strap-on might do, but it never felt as warm as a man's prick. And it never had that pulsing beat of the veins against her sensitive cunt-lips. Please let it be so! The guests soon arrived. First were Adrian and Steve, dressed as always in jeans and tight tee shirts that showed off the rewards of their many dedicated hours in the gym. They kissed Zoe and Esther tenderly on the cheeks, and waltzed hand-in-hand into the living room where, as always, they were soon leafing through the pile of magazines stacked up on the coffee table. Then there was Jane and Martin both dressed in leather. Jane just loved the sight of Esther's dildo. While Martin kissed Zoe long and lingeringly, his leather singlet brushing against the nipples under her blouse, Jane knelt down and playfully ran her tongue up and down the length of the plastic toy. But this was just foreplay. The couple strode into the living room and chatted to the two men who still held onto their magazines, and, as they always did, started riffling through the girls' CD collection to find some chill-out dance music. Noelle and Mark arrived a few minutes later. Mark was wearing a shirt and tie, jacket and trousers: dressed more like the executive he was during the day rather than a partygoer. Noelle was rather more unrestrained. She wore a tight strapless dress that emphasized the heave of her breasts and the long neck that curved up to her inch-long hair. The couples sat in the living room, nibbling on canapés, nachos and dips, with glasses of white wine and, in Noelle's case a glass of sherry. Mark pulled out a small packet and started skinning up a fat one on the cover of Business Weekly. Jane was spreading Esther's CDs about the floor and selecting tunes that she particularly enjoyed. Zoe wasn't sure she appreciated all Jane's taste. She was looking forward to when she could wrest the stereo off Jane and put on some restful jazz or some ambient drum and bass. Finally, Mark's joint had been round the room a couple of times, the nibbles were mostly finished, and still Pauline hadn't arrived. This was only to be expected. The girl was so unreliable! But Esther decided that it wasn't a good idea to wait, or the potatoes would get burnt and the vegetables too soggy. So the party adjourned to the dining room section of the living room, while Zoe slipped on a Nitin Sawhney album she thought would better suit the ambience than fucking Armand Van Helden. It was only when the plates were set out and forks and knives were poised to tuck in, that the sitar sounds were interrupted by the strangled sound of the Fanfare for the Common Man. It was the doorbell. Zoe leaped out of her seat. After all, Pauline had been her friend longer than she had known Esther. She ran to the door, partly miffed at Pauline's lateness, but relieved she'd turned up at all. Pauline was there at the door with that sweet winning smile that always melted Zoe's heart however undependable her friend was. She was wearing a smart trouser suit with a wide tie over her blouse and pushed forward by the thrust of her bosom. "Hi! Meet Nigel," she said, standing to one side so that Zoe could see her chaperone. Zoe smiled, but was slightly alarmed. Nice looking though Nigel was, he didn't really look the kind of guy you'd expect to find at the sort of party she and Esther were holding. He was well built, quite tall, with averagely short curly brown hair, a short-sleeved blue shirt and neatly creased trousers. This in itself was not what alarmed Zoe. After all, how did she expect her guests to dress? In fucking manacles and black leather hoods?What concerned Zoe were his disarmingly pleasant smile and his polite demeanor. "Hello, Nigel," Zoe said with as welcoming a smile as she could muster, but as soon as she could, she gave Pauline a quizzical glare. "Shall we take your bottle into the kitchen so we can cool it in the fridge?" As Nigel walked ahead into the kitchen carrying his bottle, Zoe whispered urgently to Pauline. "Does Nigel know what sort of party this is?" Pauline smiled. "Well, not really. I didn't want to put him off coming." "Coming? Does he 'come' in any sense of the word? Has he, for instance, 'come' in you, Pauline?" "Well, not yet, sweetest. But I'm sure he will." Zoe screwed up her face. This could be embarrassing. But the die was cast now. There was no way back now that Nigel had passed the threshold. He wandered back to the girls, smiling appreciatively. "You've sure got a nice place here. Esther. Or is it Zoe?" "Zoe," the hostess corrected him. "Yes, but it cost a lot. Property prices, you know. I couldn't have afforded it by myself." "Oh. So that's why you share with Esther." Zoe didn't choose to correct him this time. "Come on, you two. Dinner is served." She pushed open the door to the dining room where the other guests were already eating. Zoe noted with relief that nobody was behaving in any way that might have alarmed Nigel. Indeed, the dinner party looked decidedly unthreatening, and plates of food were laid out for the two latecomers. And then Esther stood up to greet her guests. Zoe felt a certain anxiety at this point. How would Nigel react as Esther walked towards them, her dildo swaying gently in front of her and a glimpse of nipple seeking to escape from her skimpy top? She regarded Nigel and noted that he had visibly blanched. "Hi there, Pauline. Glad you could make it," Esther said, kissing her on the lips. "And you must be Nigel?" She kissed him gently on the cheeks. Nigel's voice seemed to be failing him. "Er. Yes. That's me. That's who I am," he replied uncertainly. "Well, I hope you enjoy your meal. Pauline didn't tell me whether you were a vegetarian, but you needn't worry. Zoe's a vegetarian herself, so there's no meat here." Zoe was sure that Nigel's anxiety wasn't caused by dietary concerns. But he took his seat between Pauline and Adrian, just opposite Mark and herself. She could see Nigel exchange worried glances with Pauline, but she merely smiled in that ambiguous way she excelled in and shrugged her shoulders. The conversation over the meal was fairly unexceptional. Jane chatted about the nightclubs she'd been to and how she was beginning to get a bit old for that sort of thing. Mark discussed recent movements on the stock exchange. Adrian and Steve competed with each other to express the greater enthusiasm for some musical they'd seen. Esther presided over it all with her usual skill, ensuring that nobody dominated the conversation and that boring subjects weren't pursued beyond other guests' endurance. Zoe watched Pauline and Nigel chat, and was interested in observing how his expression alternated from interest in his partner to discomfort in his environment. Every now and then he would glance towards Esther, perhaps visualizing her dildo under the table. Or perhaps regarding her nipple as it occasionally popped out from the cleavage of her top. Adrian started chatting to Nigel, which at first troubled Zoe. Perhaps Nigel was gay himself, and this party would just disintegrate into two separate groups of exclusive homosexual preference. However, she could tell from Adrian's expression that Nigel was not even aware that he was being chatted up and that Adrian was getting nowhere at all with this little fishy. "So, Nigel, you work at the same place as Pauline?" Zoe wondered, noticing that his companion was having a rather animated conversation with Martin about drugs and dance music. Nigel looked at her gratefully. He had noticed that Adrian had shifted his attention to Mark who was much less choosy than him and had perhaps began to realize what Adrian liked most in a man. "Well, we share the same staff restaurant. I'm a systems analyst on the ZEN project..." "'Zen'? Sounds a bit mystical." "No, it's just an acronym. It's a fund management system." "Oh really," said Zoe, regretting already this turn in the conversation. She glanced around her in the hope that she could change the focus toward some other conversationalist. She latched onto Pauline. "What do you know about 'ZEN', Pauline?" "Bugger all!" Pauline laughed. "Is Nigel talking shop again?" She placed a firm hand on his upper leg, and Zoe could see him visibly jump. "I don't know anything about 'Zen', but I wouldn't mind trying out some Tantric Sex." At this, almost everyone on the table chortled and laughed in a way that alarmed Nigel even more. Even he realized that what she'd said wasn't really that funny. After the pudding and coffees, everyone was beginning to get a little nervous. How was it all going to progress to the next stage? A strange quietness descended on the party, broken when Esther stood up and announced she'd better clear up the dirty plates. This was Pauline's cue. She smiled broadly and stood up in front of Esther and boldly grasped the dildo protruding from her crotch. "Oh don't worry about that, Esther. I'm sure we can sort that out in the morning." She then angled her face towards Esther whose mouth almost immediately made contact with Pauline's lips. And then the two began kissing each other, their arms around each other, and Pauline seizing Esther's dildo and employing it as if it were real. And following the two girls' example, the party came to its second phase. Adrian and Mark and Steve collapsed on the sofa in a mass of testosterone-charged urgency. Noelle and Martin fell onto Jane. And there was Zoe looking around at the three groups with which she could so easily engage herself, but concerned also about Nigel. What would he do? He was still sitting at his chair at the table, staring in disbelief and surprise as his date for the night was divesting herself of her clothes and taking Esther's dildo into her mouth. He had a half-empty glass of wine in his hand, which he held up halfway towards his mouth, but he was not sure what to do with it. Zoe stood up from the armchair where she'd been sitting, daintily stepped over Noelle's bare outstretched legs on the carpet and picked up the leather trousers that she'd pulled off. She walked over to Nigel, carrying the trousers over her arm, slyly unbuttoning her blouse as she strode forward. "Was this the sort of party you thought you'd be coming to?" she asked with a smile. Nigel looked up at her. His face was contorted with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. He stuttered. "I didn't... I had no idea that... And Pauline... She's..." Zoe pulled open her blouse, letting free her breasts, and then tugged it off and left it by the side of Noelle's trousers on a chair. She stood opposite the seated Nigel, topless and herself slightly embarrassed to be presenting herself so shamelessly. "Pauline's just sex mad. As we all are. So, come on Nigel. Let's see what you have to offer!" Nigel went an even redder hue. "I'm not sure... It's not quite... If I'd known..." And then without another word, he suddenly stood out of his seat and rushed straight out of the living room and into the hallway. "Shit!" snarled Zoe. This was what she'd been afraid of. Nigel was a real party pooper. She looked around her. The three men were busy on the sofa. Adrian had Mark's penis deep inside his mouth, while Steve was probing his tongue around the puckered hole of Adrian's anus. Esther had pushed her dildo into Pauline's cunt and the two girls were pretending to enjoy something that was clearly relatively uncomfortable and unnatural, while their mouths continued to grapple. The third group on the floor was actually the most completely unclothed. Martin's penis thrusting away into Noelle's cunt while Jane was kissing her husband with one arm around Noelle's bare back. Which group should Zoe join? She knew that the one where she'd be most welcome would be with Pauline and Esther. But Esther could have her any time. It was cock that Zoe wanted. And the only one not so far answered for had just left the room. Zoe sighed. She pushed open the living room door and strode into the empty hallway. She eased the door shut behind her, obscuring the portentous sounds of Orbital and the groans, grunts, giggles and occasional shrieks of her guests. Where the fuck had Nigel gone? And should she just count her blessings and join Pauline and Esther? After all, a dildo mightn't be a cock but it was a hard thing that might just about satisfy a soft place. "Nigel! Where are you?" Zoe shouted, knowing full well that he was most likely to be skulking in the kitchen. She pulled off her skirt. It had been so uncomfortable. And she'd got no further use for it. She wandered through the open kitchen door, wearing just her knickers, to see Nigel sitting disconsolately on the stool with a glass in his hand that he'd just refilled with the red cooking wine that Esther had left on the breakfast table. "What are you doing here, Nigel?" He glanced up at Zoe with a slightly pained expression. He smiled wanly, but tried not to stare directly at Zoe's breasts. "I'm not sure. I don't know. Waiting for Pauline, I suppose." Zoe laughed. "Then you're going to be waiting for a fuck of a long time then, Nigel. Pauline's usually the last to leave any party." Nigel sighed again. "I don't suppose I can wait for ever then. I wasn't expecting this. I don't know what I was expecting. Certainly not this, anyway.Zoe strode right up behind Nigel where he was sitting and put her arms around his neck. "Well, Nigel. 'This' is exactly what this party's all about. Don't you think it's fun?" Nigel was clearly struggling in his conflict between libido and what he considered to be decency. "It's just not. I mean. It's not. I was expecting a dinner party. Not an orgy." "An orgy is when there's more than two people involved," Zoe reasoned. "There aren't more than two people here in this kitchen." "But in the living room. And besides... I don't even know you. I came here with Pauline. And I thought..." "Don't say you didn't think that you and Pauline wouldn't...?" "Well, I thought it might be possible. But not usually until you've been seeing each other for a while. And... What are you doing?" "Don't be alarmed, Nigel. I'm just examining the wares," smiled Zoe, who had sunk down to Nigel's knees and was unzipping his flies. She was glad he'd not worn jeans. They were a fucking pain to get open: so tight and all those fiddly buttons! "I'm not sure you should be... I don't really know you..." stuttered Nigel as Zoe's hand delved into his front and tugged at his underpants. It wasn't quite as easy to get at his cock as she'd thought, so she undid the top buttons at the waist and pulled the trousers fully open. And then she saw what Nigel had had to offer. Fucking hell! Jackpot! She'd struck gold. She'd been right to follow Nigel into the kitchen. What a fucking monster! "You're very... Very... Well ... Endowed, Nigel!" she managed to say as she slid out the floppy but still massive weight of his prick and the corresponding large testicles. "Has anyone told you that?" She looked straight up at Nigel's face above her. Nigel's face was contorted by the battle still going on in his mind. "My last girlfriend used to say she'd never seen one any bigger." "Well, Nigel. I've seen a lot of cock in my life. A lot of fucking pricks I can tell you. But I've never seen a prick like this before. How come your girlfriend's not still with you?" "It just didn't... you know... she was... it was a while back... Hey! What are you doing with your teeth?" Zoe didn't answer this time. She was far too preoccupied in running the large thick meat of Nigel's cock in and out of her mouth. God! It tasted good. Just like a piece of meat should taste. Hot. And firm. And twitching. And so much of it. With that strange smell that gave it an odour which really switched on her juices. Oh God! Oh God! She seized the waist of Nigel's trousers and pulled them and the underpants down below his knees, while stretching a hand up up up his smooth muscled torso to the hairs of his chest. Nigel's prick was responding. Getting bigger. And stiffer. And harder. The glans was shining as the foreskin pulled all the way off and a trail of saliva drooped like a washing line between the glans and Zoe's lower lip. Zoe pulled herself up onto Nigel's chest, rubbing her nipples against the fabric of his short-sleeved shirt. The shirt buttons slid over the perspiration of her skin. "Come on big boy. Off with your clothes!" "I'm sorry? I mean. What do you think...?" "Shit! Stop fucking moaning and get on with it!" Weakly and defeated, Nigel undid his shirt and pulled it off, while below Zoe pulled his trousers and underpants off, and (because she really hated the sight of it in porn films) she made sure his shoes and socks were also off. And then, when Nigel was good and naked, and his prick standing proudly out from the centre of his body, swaying slightly from its own weight and majesty, and only then, Zoe pulled off her knickers so that she was totally naked. Her short trimmed crotch waiting and prepared for Nigel's invasion. She stood back to admire Nigel. Fuck! What a dick! She wanted it in her. And she wanted it in her now! "Come on, Nigel! Give it to me!" she commanded. "What? Here? In the kitchen?" "It's hot and ready! We'd don't want it to go off the boil do we?" Zoe needn't have worried about that though, as became obvious in the next few hours. What fucking planet did Nigel come from? Wherever it was, Zoe wanted to go there. Not only was his prick so fucking enormous that it almost tore her vagina apart, well practised though it was by Esther's fist and fingers, but it just stayed big and hot and thrusting and willing. It just never seemed to give up. And as Nigel became less concerned with decency and more with passion, it just went on and on. Pounding and pushing into her. That prick just went on and on. Zoe soon lost count of the number of times she'd come. Well, as she'd got to learn, there were so many different flavours of orgasm, and those you got with a man were often those strange moaning, whimpering ones, often bypassing the G-spot and the clitoris and just swelling out the inner cavities. Zoe didn't want to lose Nigel. She knew what Pauline and Noelle would do if they caught a glimpse of a dick like Nigel's. It'd be in their cunts as quick as you could blink. After just quarter of an hour of kitchen pumping, Zoe facing the breakfast table, while Nigel fucked her from behind, not in her arse of course (it probably didn't even cross his mind to try), but in that weird angle that was only possible when a prick was good and hard and your cunt was just juicy but not so totally wet that things slid out. Then, sweat running down her neck and pasting her eyelids, she grabbed Nigel's still erect prick and guided him out of the kitchen and into her bedroom, or the one she shared with Esther, and the two collapsed on the double bed that dominated the room. And then it went on. Fucking. Screwing. Screeching. Occasionally pausing. Collapsed in each other's arms. But not for long, until the incorrigible Nigel was up and going and back in the welcoming recesses of her cunt. Slap. Slap. Slap. Zoe moaned. And groaned. And sighed. And shrieked. And still it went on. Was there any way that Nigel would stop? Most men couldn't keep this kind of fucking going on for much more than half an hour. And usually once they'd released their come (usually deep inside her), the fun was over just when Zoe was just beginning to get to the next stage in her abandon and passion. But not this one. In fact, Zoe wasn't at all sure whether Nigel had come at all. She didn't pause to wonder what this might mean for his feelings for her. In fact, she wasn't sure she really cared. Nigel was her fuck toy. And for as long as he fucked her, he was the best toy a girl could ever hope for. "Hey, Zoe! We wondered where you'd got to!" Zoe arched her head behind her, Nigel astride her and still pushing away into her bruised, battered and still willing vagina. There was Pauline and Esther, naked, arm in arm, no strap-on dildos now, and a glimpse of Jane and Martin fully clothed in the frame of the doorway. "Hi there, Esther," she said weakly. "I just got carried away." "And I can see why," remarked Pauline, regarding the semi-erect penis that had been snatched so rudely out of Zoe's vagina by Nigel's embarrassment at being found out. "Fuck! If I'd known I wouldn't have let anyone else get their hands on my man. Hey Nigel. What say you we finish our date together?" "Shit, man!" suddenly remarked Martin who wandered in, leaving Jane standing at the door. "If I'd known I'm sure we'd have stayed a bit longer. But we don't want to miss our taxi. Fuck! That's one big dick! I'm real choosy with the dicks I'll go for, but that's one I'd make a definite beeline for." This remark clearly alarmed Nigel. He jumped up and raced out of the door past Jane who watched his swinging penis as it went by with wide-eyed fascination. "My clothes!" He gasped. "The kitchen!" The next thing Zoe saw was Nigel running back past the door down the hallway, fully clothed. He briefly poked his head through the door. "I've got to catch the last train!" he gasped, and the next sound was the flat door slam behind him. Zoe, Pauline and Esther watched Nigel's frenetic activity with incredulous silence that lasted perhaps another twenty seconds after the door had closed. Then they burst into hoots of laughter. "Did you see his face?" chortled Esther. "Martin, you bastard. You cunt. If you hadn't said that we'd have had a real piece of meat to finish off our dinner," said Pauline with laughter that belied the aggression of her words. "Well. I was only speaking the truth. Wasn't I, Jane dear? After all, I must be the only guy who had no dick this evening. And the only girl too, seeing's I've dipped my piece into every sushi dip this evening 'cept Zoe's here! But you've had a real boner to contend with, haven't you?" Zoe smiled. She'd wanted cock. And she'd got more cock than she could ever have hoped for. And all from one guy. And no sharing, either. And now, when the last of her guests had gone, and the taxis weren't going to be that long in arriving, her repast would be completed with the love and affection of Pauline and Esther in the sweaty, disordered sheets and blankets of her bed. And not just love and affection, but fists, fingers and long stiff rubber. Zoe smiled. She could hardly wait till her next party. She and Esther would begin planning it before the sun rose and the weekend began. But she wasn't sure whether she'd invite Nigel along. In fact, she wasn't sure whether he'd even come to the party. Or even, on reflection, whether he'd even come at this party.

Authors/Bradley_Stoke/11 Dinner is Served.txt

William Rush

The Fortunate Ones: The Lost

Zackary Dillon had not seen his parents in two days. The last time he spoke to his mother, she had made him promise to stay home and not to answer the door or call anyone under any circumstances. He looked at the letter on the kitchen table. It said "open immediately," and it was from the company his father had worked at for ten years. Before his parents had left, his father had read the letter and then seemed very upset. Zack was upset too. His parents had never left him alone before. He was only ten, and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He had not been to school for two days, and he was running out of food to eat that didn't have to be cooked. His mother had forbidden him from using the stove or microwave. Zack wanted to go talk to the neighbor lady, Ms. Perkins. He saw her out in her yard working. When she looked in his direction, he waved. His mother had never said anything about waving. She looked at him and smiled, then a look of concern came over her face. She started to walk over to the house; he was happy that he'd finally have someone to talk to, then he remembered he wasn't supposed to answer the door. Zack heard Ms. Perkins knock on the door. After a while, when there was no answer, Ms. Perkins said in a loud voice, "Zack, dear, open the door." "I'm not supposed to answer the door," he shouted back. "You can answer the door," Ms. Perkins said. "You know me, don't you?" "My mother made me promise not to answer the door or call anyone," Zack said. "I'm sure she wouldn't care if you opened the door for me," Ms. Perkins said. There was silence. Ms. Perkins tried to look through the window to see where the boy was, but if he was there, he was hiding now. "Zack," Ms. Perkins said. "Where's your mom and dad?" "At work," Zack replied. "It's Saturday, Zack," Ms. Perkins said. "Your parents don't work on Saturday." "They got called in," Zack said, trying to sound convincing. "Are you sure they're at work?" Ms. Perkins said. "Yes," Zack said. "Well," Ms. Perkins said. "Why don't you come over to my house and wait for them? I just made some cookies." "I can't," Zack said. "I'm not supposed to leave the house." "Hmm," Ms. Perkins said. "Well, that's too bad, they're very good cookies." Zack thought for a second and then said, "You could put them through the doggy door." "Well now," Ms. Perkins said. "I could do that. I tell you what, why don't you wait by the kitchen door, and I'll give you some cookies, okay?" "Okay," Zack said. "That'd be cool." "Good," Ms. Perkins said. Ms. Perkins had thought that the family had left for a four-day weekend. She had seen Zack's mom and dad drive off with some luggage in the back of their BMW. She hadn't seen them return, and now here was poor little Zack alone in his home and obviously very frightened. She picked up the phone and called her nephew Steve, a deputy with the sheriff's department. "Steven," she said. "I don't care if you have paperwork to do, get your ass over there and check on that child. His parents have been gone for two days, and he's much too young to be alone." "I can't, Aunt Georgina," Steve said. "But I can let the sheriff know, and maybe he'll come out." "Steven Thomas O'Keefe," Ms. Perkins said. "You get your damn ass over to that house and talk to that boy yourself. I called you for a reason, and you know that." "Fine," Steve said. "I'll go over and check on him, but I'm sure everything is fine. If something was wrong, someone would've called." "I just did, you dumbshit," Ms. Perkins said under her breath. *** Zack sat in the back of the car, looking at the big green building through the chain-link fence. The fence had razor wire surrounding the top, and he thought it looked very much like a prison would. Ms. Simms, the nice woman who had brought him here, patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, Zack," she said. "I'm sure your parents will be back. Their car probably just broke down." Zack looked down at his feet. He wanted to believe they would, but in his gut, he felt this knot that said they wouldn't be coming back. He remembered that his Mom and Dad were arguing about Dad's job and something he did there. Something about the books. His father was an accountant, which he knew had to do with keeping track of money, but that's about it. Ms. Simms pushed a button on a box in front of the gate, and soon after, the gate opened to let them inside the parking lot of the building. Zack saw that even the parking lot was fenced in from the rest of the place. That seemed strange to him. "Come on now," Ms. Simms said, as she got out of the car. "You'll love it here, lots of boys your age to play with." "I want to go home," Zack said. "My Mom and Dad will be home soon." "Well, I left a note on the door telling them where you were," Ms. Simms said. "If they come home, they'll come looking for you here." Zack knew that it was pointless to argue; he had been begging for two hours to stay at his home, and no one had let him so far. He got out of the car and followed Ms. Simms to the door. "Well, well," a man sitting behind a desk said, smiling. "Hello, Bob," Ms. Simms said. "This is Zack. Zack, this is Mr. Brady." "Hello, Zack," Mr. Brady said. Zack said nothing; he just kept staring at his shoes. "You know," Mr. Brady said. "It's polite to say hello when someone greets you, Zack." "Hello," Zack said in a quiet voice. "There," Mr. Brady said, "That wasn't so hard." "Zack's going to be staying with you for a while," Ms. Simms said, "While he waits for his parents to return." "Well, I'm glad to hear that," Mr. Brady said, smiling at the boy. "I'm sure you'll have lots of fun." "Is the doc in?" Ms. Simms asked. "No," Mr. Brady said. "He's gone 'til next week, only Roger's back there, and I wouldn't trust him with a butter knife." Ms. Simms laughed, "Bob, you're too much." "Just kidding," Mr. Brady said. "But we will have to wait 'til the Doc comes back before he can have an examination." "I could take him to Dr. Thomas, it's only an hour away," Ms. Simms said. "We really should make sure he's alright." Mr. Brady knelt down in front of Zack and put his hands on the boy's shoulders, turning him from side to side. "He looks healthy to me," Mr. Brady said. "Why don't we just get him settled, and we can sort that out later." "You're right," Ms. Simms said. "Poor guy's been in a house alone for the last two days." "That's horrible," Mr. Brady said."Some people should just not have kids." "My parents are coming back for me," Zack said all of a sudden. "Their car just broke down or something. They'll be back." "I'm sure they will, dear," Ms. Parker said, then looking at Mr. Brady, added, "And I'm sure they're very loving parents." "They are," Zack said, visibly upset. "I'm sorry, Zack," Mr. Brady said. "I didn't mean to upset you. I tell you what, let's get you to the cafeteria and I'll have Ms. Terry make you a snack. I'm sure you're hungry." "Thanks, Bob," Ms. Simms said. "No problem, Ms. Simms," Mr. Brady said. "Tell that old man of yours we can't wait 'til he gets back on his feet; this place isn't the same without him." "Why, thank you, Bob," Ms. Simms said, smiling. "You are so kind to say such a thing, but I know it's probably nice having a break from him. He's such a micro-manager." Mr. Brady laughed, "That he is." Ms. Simms waved as the door closed behind her. Mr. Brady put his hand on Zack's shoulder and took a good look at the boy. He had blonde hair, a bit on the dark side, dark brown eyes you could get lost in, and a light boyish tan. All the things he looked for in a boy. He knew right away that he was going to be good friends with this kid.Of course, if he still had questions about a man, he would invite them over for dinner. At some point, the man would be left alone with little Roger, his ten-year-old adopted son, and he would observe how the man acted on a closed-circuit camera. Roger was taught to be just suggestive enough to attract the attention of a true boy lover, without arousing suspicions that he might actually be trying to seduce the men. It took quite a while to assemble the right people for the job, and even though they were understaffed for the first year, Mr. Simms refused to hire anyone that he couldn't trust to be with his boys. After two years, he had one counselor on duty for every ten boys. Right now, there were three counselors always working, not including the doc and Mr. Simms' adopted son, Roger. There were also several part-timers who volunteered to come and spend time with the boys. Most of them were quite wealthy too, so this was an obvious sign of their generosity. Now the home was well-established and had a reputation for being one of the finest institutions of its type in the state. If there were any issues at all with the institution, it was its failure to have enough females on the staff. Something Mr. Simms defended by stating that boys were more comfortable around men. Recently, he had found two women who did have a fondness for boys, and that was alleviating that suspicion as well. After the second year, another institution was opened across the way from the first. This one was meant for boys fourteen and older and had actually been opened to ensure that the boys that left the first home didn't go somewhere else and act out or tell what was happening. It was also meant to train the boys to have some self-discipline and decorum. Yes, for over twelve years, the institution had nearly a spotless record. Not a single boy had said a word about his experiences at the institution, and in fact, two boys from the home were now grown up and working as counselors there, something Mr. Simms was quite proud of. Yes, things seemed to be going well, until Mr. Brady screwed up and nearly brought everything crashing down. Chapter 4 Mr. Brady had gone to the shower room for a quickie. He thought he might find one or two boys there trying to avoid the counselors. He was right, the only problem was that the boy in the shower room was little Zack. He looked at the naked little boy, his small tan body lathered up in soap, and he couldn't help himself. "Hey there, Zack," Mr. Brady said. "Hi," Zack said, covering his genitals as he suddenly realized that Mr. Brady had come in. "Taking a shower?" Mr. Brady asked, an obvious question, but the man was nervous. "Yeah," Zack said, "I don't like to do it around the other boys; they joke around too much." Mr. Brady was well aware that joking around meant playing grab-ass and jerking off. "Boys will be boys," he said with a smile. "Umm," Zack said. "I was almost finished." "Don't let me stop you," Mr. Brady said, licking his lips unconsciously. "Could you," Zack said, intending to ask the man to leave, but not knowing how. "Wash your back?" Mr. Brady said. "Of course, I can." Mr. Brady didn't wait for the boy to object as he took the soap from the boy's hands as they still covered his genitals, allowing him a quick feel of the boy's balls. "Turn around," He said. "Mr. Brady," Zack tried to say, as the man grabbed him by the waist and directed him towards the spray of water. "You know," Mr. Brady said, as he lathered his hand and began to rub the boy's back. "Most boys tend to not clean up properly. Do you know what I mean, Zack?" "No," Zack said in an uncomfortable voice. "Well," Mr. Brady said. "They don't clean their bottoms out. Did you clean your bottom out?" Zack nodded his head and closed his eyes, trying not to feel the hands running over his back and bottom. He felt the man start to move his hand into the crack of his bottom. "Bend over, Zack," Mr. Brady said in a husky voice. Zack didn't know what to do, so he did what the man wanted; he bent over, even though he was frightened by the turn of events. "There it is," Mr. Brady said in a cheerful voice as he ran his finger across the boy's butthole. "Have you cleaned this out, buddy?" "Yeah," Zack answered, trying to sound convincing. "I did it first." "Hmm," Mr. Brady said. "It doesn't look like you did a good job. Let's see if we can get it cleaner, okay?" Zack didn't say anything, then he felt Mr. Brady shake him by the waist. "Okay, Zack?" Mr. Brady asked again. Zack nodded, saying nothing. "Tell me it's okay, Zack," Mr. Brady said. "Okay," Zack said so softly that Mr. Brady almost didn't hear it above the sound of the water. "Good boy," Mr. Brady said. "Not a lot of boys care about being clean; it shows you take pride in your appearance." Zack couldn't understand how keeping your butthole clean affected your appearance, as no one was supposed to see it. Mr. Brady soaped up his finger and started to rub it ever so softly against the boy's hole, loving the tight resistance he felt. "Yes," he said, "You're cleaning up nicely. Bend over a little more, in fact, grab your ankles." Zack did not want to do that, but the man was pulling him down by his arm until he was in the position he had mentioned. "That's better," Mr. Brady said. "Now take a deep breath, this might sting a bit." The boy hollered and stood straight up as a painful spasm shot from around his hole. "Back down to your ankles," Mr. Brady shouted, slapping Zack's bottom with his hand. "It hurts," Zack said. "Take it out." "No," Mr. Brady said. "You said it was okay to clean you out, and we're going to clean you out." "I don't want to do this anymore," Zack said in a high-pitched, whiny voice. "Well, that's too bad," Mr. Brady said. "You should have thought of that before you said it was okay." Mr. Brady slapped the boy's ass again as he continued to move his finger inside of the boy, actually holding the boy in place with it. "The sooner you bend over," Mr. Brady said. "The sooner we can finish cleaning you out." Zack sobbed and bent over. Mr. Brady marveled at the boy's pale bottom; he obviously wore a speedo at the beach, which was fine with Mr. Brady. "You're not very clean in here," Mr. Brady said, "This may take a while." The boy sobbed again, tears streaming down his face, sure that this was not right, that the man was doing something very wrong to him. "Just a minute more," Mr Brady said as he rubbed his own stiffened member through his pants. "Please take it out," Zack said, shifting from foot to foot, trying to relieve himself of the uncomfortable fullness. The boy's begging only turned Mr. Brady on even more, and he began to rub his prick even faster; then, with a cry, he felt himself come in his underwear. As he did, he began to ram his finger in and out of Zack, causing the small boy to cry out in pain. Finally, his orgasm over, Mr. Brady removed his finger. There was no shit or blood at all, which the man was suddenly very thankful for. Realizing he lost control, he suddenly stood, very nervous. "You can't tell anyone I showed you this," Mr. Brady said, grabbing the boy by the arms, even now looking at the boy's small, shriveled, uncircumcised penis, rather than his face. The boy just sobbed and looked at the man, frightened and unsure what he should do. Mr. Brady let the boy go, and the boy took a step back away from him, tears streaming from his eyes. "I'm sorry, buddy," Mr. Brady said. "I didn't know it hurt. Come on, you forgive me, don't you?" The boy just stood there, his hands covering his penis and balls, trying very hard not to run out of the room naked. "I forgive you," he said between sobs. "This is our little secret, right?" Mr. Brady said, trying to touch the boy as he stepped back away from him. The boy nodded, still looking at the man with fear in his eyes. "Promise me you won't tell," Mr. Brady said, holding out his pinky, "Pinky swear?" Zack stood there for a moment, watching the man for any sign that he might grab him, then, wanting so much for the man to leave so he could just get his clothes on and get out of that place, he reached out and wrapped his pinky around the man's. "Good boy," Mr. Brady said. "I knew you were a good boy." The boy sobbed as the man stood up, looked at the boy one last time, and left the shower room. Mr. Brady kept thinking he had fucked up. He shouldn't have done it. If anyone found out, he would be fried. His heart fell in his chest, then he noticed the cum running down his leg, dampening his slacks. He went to the counselors' locker room and grabbed a fresh change of clothes, something that he always had. He looked at himself in the mirror to see if he looked guilty, then smacked himself hard on his forehead with his palm. "Stupid!" Mr. Brady said. "Stupid!" He sat down on a bench, trying to figure out what he would do. He could feel himself start to sweat. Glen walked in and nodded to him. "What's up, Bob?" Glen asked. "Just cleaning up, spilled something on my pants," Mr. Brady said. "Ah," Glen said, smiling. "Well, hopefully, it was something sticky." "God," Mr. Brady said, watching the man as he unbuttoned his shirt. "Is that all you think about, sex?" Mr. Brady left before Glen could answer. He walked back to his desk, passing Carl, sitting in Mr. Simms' office. Carl nodded to him, and he nodded back, hoping he looked normal. He sat at his desk, realizing he had two more hours before his shift ended. He felt sick. He hadn't felt like this for a while. It wasn't like it was the first boy he had done things to, but it was the gravity of the situation.He was supposed to wait and didn't, and now everything hinged on little Zack not breaking the silence. He was certain the boy would be too ashamed to say anything, so instead of telling Carl so that he could try and minimize the situation, he kept silent. Bob ended up very sorry for that. Chapter 5 Little Zack stood behind a table in a small room as the Judge in front of him read his case file. "He's already been placed?" the judge asked. "Yes, sir," Ms. Simms said. "At the boy's home." "Ah," the judge said. "Yes, I see it right here. How do you like the boy's home, Zack?" Zack wasn't paying attention, all he could think of was Mr. Brady and his hands, how he had promised not to tell, yet he was so afraid he would do it again if he went back. "Zack, answer the judge," Ms. Simms said, certain the boy would give the same answer all the other boys did. "I hate it, Mr. Brady..." Zack sobbed, suddenly unable to continue. "What about Mr. Brady, Zack?" the judge asked, suddenly very concerned. "He put his finger in my butt," Zack said, looking down at the floor. "Please don't make me go back. Please." "Zack," the judge said, shocked to hear such allegations. "What you're saying is very serious," the judge said. "Are you positive he put his finger in your bottom?" "He said he was cleaning it out," Zack said, sobbing again, tears streaming down his face. "Christ," the judge said under his breath, not caring for where this was going. "I think it would be best if we asked Mr. Brady about these allegations," Ms. Simms said. "I understand Mr. Brady's rights completely, Ms. Simms," the judge said. "And since you are a social worker and not a lawyer, I'll ask that you not give me legal advice." "I'm sorry, sir," Ms. Brady said. "I understand that your husband runs the facility that Mr. Brady works at," the judge said. "I honestly don't feel that you'll be able to handle this child without prejudice. I'm going to recommend that his case be handled by Mr. Fenton and that the district attorney look into this matter. Until then, the boy will remain in the custody of the court." "But your honor," Ms. Simms said, shocked. "I believe the boy, Ms. Simms," the judge said. "Look at him, does he look like he's lying?" "It's just I know Mr. Brady," she started again. "That's all, Ms. Simms," the judge said. "Not another word in front of this child. I'd suggest that you leave this courtroom and have the decency to remove yourself from this case, rather than require me to order you to do so." "Yes, sir," Ms. Simms said, putting her files in her briefcase, suddenly realizing the ramifications this may have on her husband's job. She looked at the boy, shaking, still sobbing, and in that moment she believed him, if only for a second, then it was gone, the subconscious desire for her husband's security taking precedence. As she left the courtroom, she tried to think of everything she possibly could to prove Mr. Brady's innocence, without actually calling attention to the fact that she was involving herself. Zack sat in a chair, sobbing as a bailiff led him to an antechamber, to wait for Mr. Fenton to pick him up. Chapter 6 "You did it," Mr. Simms shouted, pounding his fist on his desk, causing Mr. Brady to flinch, "even after Carl told you not to," Mr. Simms stood up and started to pace, then grabbed his side. "Are you alright, Jim?" Mr. Brady asked. "Don't fucking ask me that," Mr. Simms said. "None of us are alright. You've brought the fucking hand of God down on us and what for, a piece of ass that you could've gotten from half a dozen of the other boys here." "I'm sorry," Mr. Brady said. "I wasn't thinking." "No," Mr. Simms shouted. "You weren't." Mr. Brady shifted in his seat, watching Mr. Simms pace back and forth. "I'm going to have to call him," Mr. Simms said. "No," Mr. Brady said. "We can handle this." "Bob!" Mr. Simms screamed. "The district attorney is filing charges against you now. Endangering a minor, sodomy, do you want me to go on?" "We can beat this," Mr. Brady said. "It's my word against his." "It's your word against every other boy in this home or that's lived in this home," Mr. Simms said. "Do you believe for a moment that not one of them will say anything?" "How about Shaun?" Mr. Simms said, as he walked over to the window and placed his hands on the glass. "You fucked him every day for a week because he didn't want to give you a blowjob?" Mr. Simms turned and looked at Mr. Brady and in a low voice asked, "You think if someone asks him if Mr. Brady has done something to him, he's not going to jump at the chance to bury you?" "I can talk to Shaun," Mr. Brady said. "It's not just him, Bob," Mr. Simms said, pounding his desk again. "Half the fucking kids in this home hate you, and I mean hate. If you died tomorrow, they'd probably throw a fucking party. So I think you can understand the predicament you've put us all in." "I'm sorry," Mr. Brady said. "Sorry?" Mr. Simms said. "Sorry? You risk all of our freedom because of one stupid little twit and you say sorry?" "I'm sorry," Mr. Brady said. "Don't you fucking say that again," Mr. Simms said. "You have no right to apologize. I trusted you, Bob, you were one of the first. How the fuck could you do this? You of all people? You trained them on the time table! Fuck!" "I don't know what happened," Mr. Brady said. "You know what happened," Mr. Simms said. "You of all people know you should've walked out as soon as you saw him." "I screwed up," Mr. Brady said, suddenly losing it, tears streaming from his eyes. "Fuck," Mr. Simms said. "Stop crying, Bob." "I'm sorry," Mr. Brady said. "Really I am." "I know, Bob," Mr. Simms said. "I know." "What am I going to do?" Mr. Brady said. "Nothing," Mr. Simms said. "I'll get you a lawyer. The lawyer will be the only one to talk about this. You don't say a word." "You really think they'll arrest me?" Mr. Brady said. "I'm surprised the sheriff hasn't already been here," Mr. Simms said. "Thank you, Jim," Mr. Brady said. "I'm not doing this for you, Bob," Mr. Simms said. "I'm doing this for the thirty-eight people you screwed over. I hope he was worth it." Mr. Brady handed over his walkie-talkie and pass and drove home. Mr. Simms paced back and forth in his office, then reluctantly picked up the phone. He dialed a number slowly and methodically, and a man answered the phone. "Yes," the man said in a refined voice. "We have a situation," Mr. Simms said. "I'll be there first thing in the morning," the voice said. "Tomorrow morning may be too late," Mr. Simms said. There was a moment of silence on the other end, then the man replied, "Pick me up from the airstrip south of the home, I'll be there in three hours." "I'll be there," Mr. Simms said. "And Jim," the voice said. "Yes, Mr. Carlin," Mr. Simms said. "This had better be important," the man said. Chapter 7 Glen Roberts held the small blond-haired boy still as he inspected the boy's body for marks. He had brought the boy to confinement last week and had been particularly zealous. "You look fine, boy," Glen said, as he stroked the boy's soft little circumcised dick. The boy looked at him with his blue eyes on the verge of tears, and Mr. Parker smiled. "Look," Mr. Parker said. "You're getting excited, Ronny." "I didn't mean to," Ronny said, trying to hold back a sob. "But you did," Glen said. "I told you you weren't allowed to get excited 'til I said you could, didn't I?" "Yes, sir," Ronny said, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. "What do you think we should do, Ronny?" Glen said, looking at the slight pale-skinned ten-year-old boy. "I don't know," Ronny said, then suddenly screamed as Mr. Parker grabbed his balls and squeezed. "You don't know, boy?" Glen asked in a calm voice. "Punish me, sir," Ronny screamed, trying to pry his balls from the man's grip. "Good," Glen said. "We're in agreement then." "Glen, you there?" said a voice through the walkie-talkie. Glen sighed, as he put the walkie-talkie to his mouth and answered, "This is Glen." "We've got a situation," Mr. Simms said. "I'll be right there," Glen said, looking the boy in the eyes, seeing the relief wash over his frightened face. "Now you, my little cocksucker, will wait here until I come back, no matter how long it takes me to come back. If I find you gone, the beating you got last week will be nothing compared to what I'll have in store for you, got it?" "Yes, sir," the little boy said, sobbing again. Glen stood up and placed his belt back through the loops of his pants. He knew something was wrong, but not what. Mr. Simms didn't like him, he was worried one of the boys he played with got hurt. When he got to Mr. Simms' door, he waited for a second and then knocked. "Come in, Glen," Mr. Simms said. Glen stepped in and saw a distinguished dark-haired man with grey temples, sitting in a chair by the window. A tall man in a suit with dark sunglasses stood by the man. Mr. Simms was rifling through files, looking for something. "I'm sorry," Glen said. "I thought..." "It's alright," Mr. Simms said. "Glen, Mr. Carlin." "Hello, Glen," Mr. Carlin said, relishing the look of fear that crossed Glen's face. "We have need of your special talents." *** Glen drove to the small shop in the city. If you hadn't known it was there, you would've missed it. It was run by two brothers who catered to the needs of very special clients. They specialized in bondage and S&M gear. Glen pointed out the objects he needed and asked the man if he had any smaller sizes.The man looked at him for a second, with a look of disdain, then went to the back and returned with just what Glen was looking for. "Yes," Glen said, smiling at the man. "This will work nicely." When Glen returned, he headed to confinement. Sure enough, little Ronny was standing there, his hands clasped behind his neck, glancing every once in a while at the two-way mirror. Glen knew Ronny was wondering if he was there, if he could finally move. He had been gone for four hours, and he was certain that the boy hadn't taken a step from where he had left him. Other boys might hear him say, 'don't move' and think he was telling them to stay in the room, but Ronny had experienced that mistake before and obviously did not want to relive that experience, even though, regrettably, he would most likely suffer much worse today. "We'll practice on Ronny," Glen said to Mr. Carlin. "I've played with him enough that he knows what's going to happen. We can gauge his reaction and get a good idea of at least the minimum effect our treatment will have on the Dillon boy." "I do hope you're as good as they say you are," Mr. Carlin said, taking off his hat and sitting it on the table. "Jim, I may want a boy for this. A blond one, like the one in the room." "Yes, sir," Mr. Simms said. "I'll get one for you right now." Glen left the viewing room and entered the interview room. He looked at Ronny, deciding what mistake the boy had made. He saw the boy's erection and immediately smiled. "Hello Ronny," Glen said, as he looked up at a light in the corner to find it was still red. "Did you miss me?" "Please don't hurt me," Ronny begged, tears streaming from his eyes. "Ronny," Glen said, kneeling in front of the boy's erection. "I thought we talked about this?" Glen grabbed the boy's balls and twisted them suddenly, causing the boy to scream in pain and bring his hands down to try to pull the man away. "Now, now," Glen said, in an angry voice. "Get your fucking hands back in position or I'll tear your nuts right off." The boy had to fight to put his hands back, but once he did, the man let go of his balls, causing the boy to almost fall back. "Good boy," Glen said, walking around the boy. "I've got some good news for you." Ronny visibly trembled, fully aware that there was no good news. "Someone very important is here," Glen said. "And he wants to see me discipline you." "I've been good," Ronny said, sobbing, "Please Glen." "Don't call me Glen," Glen screamed, as he started to spank the boy's bottom with his hand. The boy danced around, crying out each time the man hit him, trying to avoid the beating, but he was held in place by the man, until the man stopped. "You'll be happy to know," Glen said, stepping away from the boy, "that if you are a good boy today, that I'm going to give you a Gameboy." The boy sobbed even harder, it was not the first time he had been given a gift by Glen, and he knew that no matter how much he wanted a Gameboy, it would never be worth the time he had to spend with the man. "Now if you're a bad boy Ronny, what do you think will happen," Glen asked. Ronny was silent for a moment, Glen raised his hand as if to smack the boy. "You'll start all over," the little blonde boy sobbed. "No, silly," Glen said. "I'm going to cut off your balls." "Oh no," Ronny said, begging the man. "Please don't cut off my balls. Please!" "If you're a good boy I won't have to," Glen said. "Now assume the position for punishment, you know the one." Ronny bent over and grabbed his ankles, shaking almost uncontrollably. "Which shall we start with Ronny?" Glen asked. "The strap, the switch, or the paddle?" Ronny let out a loud whining sound and started to sob again. "Quit that, boy," Glen said. "You'll just make it worse if you don't choose one." "The paddle, sir," Ronny said, then began to cry again. "I think ten is fair to start with," Glen said, staring at the boy's bottom, the only sign of punishment, two faint weals from last week's session. "Please sir," the boy said. "I have to go pee, can I go pee first, please." "No," Glen said. "You should've thought of that before." The boy continued to sob, not understanding why this was happening to him, unable to grasp that it was his beauty that drew the loathsome man to him, like a cockroach to a breadcrumb. Glen looked at the boy's bottom and brought the paddle down squarely across the left cheek of the boy's bottom with an impossibly loud smack. The boy cried out. "Please sir, please," Ronny begged. "I'll be good, I'll do whatever you want! Please!" "Ronny," the man said in a calm voice. "You're already a good boy and right now you're doing exactly what I want you to do." Ronny sobbed, realizing there was no way out. Glen waited to hit the boy again until he had stopped trembling, then with all the strength he could muster, he brought the paddle down across the boy's other cheek.He was soaked in urine, from when he had urinated on himself while being paddled. He had never taken his hands off his ankles, for fear he would lose his balls, so he ended up urinating on his stomach, and it had run down over his face and hair. Glen smiled, to him the smell of urine was like the smell of roses to a blushing bride. Mr. Carlton was smiling too, the little boy on his lap had finally given up the fight and taken the whole length of his cock up his ass. The boy was quite tight and warm, and he was feeling close to an orgasm. "Bishop," Mr. Carlton said, which was the name of the boy impaled on his cock. "Would you like to play with Mr. Parker next?" "No," Bishop said, whimpering as his ass adjusted to the cock inside of him. It wasn't that long, but it had gone in quick and he had only been fucked a few times before. "You wouldn't," Mr. Carlton asked, as if he was surprised. "Don't you like Mr. Parker?" Bishop was wise enough to know that was a loaded question, so even as he continued to whimpering from the discomfort, he replied, "I want to play with you. I like you inside me." "You are quite the bright lad," Mr. Carlton said, as he stroked the boy's naked stomach. Ronny was screaming again. Glen had already left a long line of welts down the boy's bottom and now he was working on the boy's back and thighs, which caused the boy to suffer even more. Mr. Carlton, deeming himself merciful, pressed the button on the speaker to the room, and said, "Fine show Glen, but do finish up now. We still have to plan things out." Glen, out of breath, just smiled at the two-way mirror and then brought the switch down over and over along the boy's legs until the boy collapsed on the floor wailing and begging. Glen looked down at the squirming child, admiring his handiwork. The boy's ass was almost beat red and already showing signs of bruising, the line of welts from the switch were almost perfectly one inch [2.5 cm] apart, all the way from the top of the boy's knees to the small of his back. He thought that was brilliant craftsmanship. Glen finally kicked the boy once in the stomach and then hung the cane on the wall. He took some rubbing alcohol and a rag from the counter and soaked the rag with the alcohol, hissing as he felt the alcohol touch a small scab on his hand. "Well, that's going to sting," he said as he walked towards the boy. You may think that Glen hated Ronny, but that was actually the furthest from the truth. He liked Ronny a great deal, maybe more than any other counselor in the center. In fact, it was this great affection for the boy that caused him to single the boy out. Glen could not understand why he would feel this way, and the mere feeling of love was so uncomfortable for the man that he dealt with it the only way he knew how, to thrash the child, then brutally fuck him. The only reason he didn't fuck the boy that day was because Mr. Carlton was watching, and he didn't want to offend the man; otherwise, the boy would've endured at least another half hour of abuse. Ronny was left in the room, which was never a good sign, because it often meant that there was more to come. Luckily for him, there was too much for Glen to do that day, so after Mr. Carlton came in little Bishop's ass, Ronny was sent to the infirmary and Bishop to his room. While Ronny lay on the examining table, sobbing, looking at the Gameboy that had been given to him, Glen joined Mr. Carlton and Mr. Simms for dinner at a very expensive restaurant, to discuss what the future held for little Zack Dillon.Zack thought the man was talking to himself, but in fact, he was talking to the audience behind the two-way mirror. Several counselors and Zack's caseworker, Mr. Fenton. "Alright then," Mr. Carlton said. "Since I can see I will be unable to convince you to obey even the slightest command by merely talking to you, I think it is time for you to be punished." "No! No!" the boy screamed as he broke free from Mr. Fenton and ran to the door, only to be pushed back into the room as several men entered. "Now, now," Mr. Fenton said to the sobbing boy. "That is just going to add more punishment." As the men held the boy still, a bench was brought into the room, the boy was quickly placed face down, and his hands were held above his head as the men tied his legs around the bottom of the bench. "I'm afraid this will hurt," Mr. Fenton said. "But no more than you've hurt Mr. Brady's reputation or the reputation of this school." Mr. Brady moved to the end of the bench and sat down so he could hold the boy's arms. He shivered when Glen entered the room. He had asked to be the one to punish the boy, not because he wanted vengeance, so much as to save him from Glen. Glen grabbed a long heavy paddle from the wall and swung it in the air, looking at the boy. "Please don't hurt me," Zack begged again. Glen knelt in front of the boy, naked, his eight-inch [20 cm] penis erect. He waited for the boy to look at him, and when the boy saw that the man was naked, he started to scream, no words, just scream. Glen laughed and then said, "If you don't quiet down now, I'll have to punish you for carrying on as well." The boy continued to cry and struggle to get free. Glen brought the paddle high up in the air and then crashing down onto the boy's bottom. Zack screamed louder now than he had before, his eyes were wide open, and he shook from the intensity of the blow. "I see that's got your attention," Glen said. "Please! Please don't hit me," the boy cried out, tears now running down his cheeks. "Quit crying, you fucking cunt," Glen screamed at the boy. "You're going to be punished whether you like it or not." "Oh no! Please, mister," Zack said. "I'll be good." "It doesn't matter whether or not you'll be good," Glen said. "You're being punished for what you've done." "No!" Zack screamed as he saw the man raise the paddle again. As the paddle hit the boy's bottom, a loud smack could be heard throughout the confinement area, then the boy's scream. "It's very important that you make a lot of noise, Zack," Glen said, "Other boys are listening, and we want them to know what will happen if they tattle like you have." The boy was trembling now, Mr. Brady had trouble holding his arms still. Already, he was losing the stomach for this. Sobs racked Zack's body as he continued to beg for the man to stop. Glen brought the paddle down again, continuing to hit the boy's bottom. Spanking him over and over, listening as the boy's screams increased in intensity, and just as quickly as he'd started, he stopped. "Now, now," he said. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" The boy sobbed, his whole body trembling. He could not believe how badly his bottom hurt. He looked over his shoulder and saw that his left cheek was dark red in color. "Now what have we learned, Zack," Glen said. "I won't tell," Zack said, sobbing. "Not that, you fucking retard," Glen said. "We've learned that paddles hurt." He brought the paddle above his head and with all his might brought it down with a sickening smack on the boy's already bruised bottom. The boy screamed and managed to pull one arm away from Mr. Brady as he twisted and squirmed on the table, trying to ease the pain in his ass. Glen grabbed the boy's wrist. "Fuck, Bob," Glen said, pulling the boy's arm back up to where Mr. Brady could hold it. "Can't you even hold on to a little boy?" Mr. Brady took hold of the boy. To him, it felt like they'd been doing this for a half-hour, but really, it had only been five minutes. Glen knew that hitting the boy's bottom anymore with the paddle would risk doing permanent damage later on; he did not want to scar the boy's bottom, just beat it. So he placed the paddle on the wall and grabbed the long heavy switch that hung beside it. "Alright now," Glen said to the sobbing boy. "Quit your sniveling. We're done with the paddling." "Please don't hit me anymore," Zack begged. The boy had calmed down, believing that the punishment was over, then he turned to see Glen standing there holding the long cane, and he started to scream again. "Jesus, someone get something to put in the boy's mouth," Glen shouted, "He's hurting my fucking ears." One of the counselors stepped forward and gave Glen a roll of tape. "What are you, fucking retarded?" Glen asked, throwing it back at the man. "The cabinet, grab one of the gags in there." The man gave Glen a dirty look, then walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a small pink gag and threw it at Glen. "That's better," Glen said, as he bent down. "Open wide." The boy clenched his mouth shut. "If I have to force your mouth open," Glen said. "I'm not putting this in it, I'll put a little ring in there. It'll be big enough to let every man in here put their penises in your mouth. Do you want that instead?" The boy sobbed and opened his mouth. "Good boy," Glen said as he brought the straps behind the boy's head and fastened it in place. He looked at the audience of counselors and boys, most were obviously uncomfortable. Glen wondered to himself if they would have been as uncomfortable if he'd been pushing his dick up the boy's ass. He was certain they would've been turned on by the boy's screams then. He turned back to the boy, believing in his heart that everything he was doing was for the good of the institution and the boy. Glen believed that the institution was the best place for any boy to be. He believed, as he watched the young boy tremble, that punishment was the only way to ensure that a child was obedient. In the case of this boy, he had a special contempt, because he had broken the rule of silence. In all the years of Glen's life, he had never told on anyone. He kept silent and refused to squeal. The fact that this boy suffered very little, at least in Glen's eyes, and told on someone, was a sign of weakness and cowardice. He believed each stroke of the cane was a cleansing for the boy, a chance to rebuild the boy's spirit and make him stronger. Even as he brought the cane down across the boy's back, he thought of this; he saw the boy squirm, saw his mouth wide open, but he did not hear the boy, instead his mind was filled with unbridled fury as he hit the boy over and over along his back, causing a line of angry red welts to form. A few times the welts overlapped, and drops of blood formed. This did not stop Glen; he knew the boy might bleed, but bleeding rarely left scars, nor did it put the boy in any danger, instead it increased the intensity of the boy's experience. He brought the switch down with almost unerring accuracy, avoiding the boy's bottom, knowing that it might split the already tender skin, after the work he'd done with the paddle, instead he struck the boy's legs and back. "This side's done," Glen finally said, resting for a second. "Turn him over." The boy screamed and struggled, even more so when his legs were untied. As the men turned him over and he fully realized what was going to happen, the pain of having his thrashed backside come into contact with the hard wooden bench caused the boy to arch his back off the ground, but the men pulled him taut, admiring the boy's penis, standing at attention. The men believed the boy was turned on, not knowing that the stimulation of rubbing his penis over and over while squirming under the assault of the paddle and switch were the cause, not a love for pain itself. Glen knew this, but he also knew how to use the boy's erection against him. "Well," Glen said. "Looks like we have a pain slut here." The boy sobbed, begging in a muffled and unintelligible voice as he squirmed under the gaze of the onlookers. "Your mouth says no," Glen said, then as he smacked the boy's penis lightly with the cane, he added, "But your body says yes." Zack sobbed again, tears stained his cheeks. The boy was laying on the ground now, not even trying to move. His body was a mass of stripes and bruises from the severe beating Glen had wrought on the boy. An occasional sob and hiss could be heard as the small child tried to find a way to lay down without his body aching. "Let him rest," Glen said. "Then we'll move on to the next part." Mr. Carlton smiled as he stood over the boy. He, like the counselors, was completely naked. The boy did not even bother to struggle; he just made a high-pitched whining sound when he saw all of the naked men looking at him. "Mr. Pepper," Mr. Carlton said. "Please proceed." A heavy strip of metal with weight on each end was brought out. The center was padded to allow the boy to kneel. Mr. Carlton had it made especially for the boy. He watched as Mr. Pepper and another man laid it on the floor. "It's a shame the doctor's not here," Mr. Carlton said. "He would be the best person to do this." The man took out a length of fishing line and two fishing hooks. He tied the line to one of the hooks, then walked towards Zack. "Rest's over, kid," the man said, kneeling down and grabbing the boy by his hair. Mr. Pepper dragged the boy so he was close to the metal strip. The boy had still not noticed the fishing hooks. The man looked down at the boy's stiff penis and smiled. With a deft hand, he took hold of the boy's arms and brought them behind his back. "Mr. Brady, please hold the boy's arms," the man said.Parker, please hold his feet. The boy struggled, not sure what was going on but knowing it wasn't good. The man waited until the boy was held securely and then brought the hook down to the boy's penis. With one hand, he grabbed the boy's foreskin and pulled it past the head of the boy's penis, then with an extra effort, he held his fingers behind the end of the boy's skin, keeping it pressed together. "This will hurt," he said to the gagged, shrieking boy, now realizing exactly what was going to happen. The hook passed through the top of the boy's foreskin, causing him to howl and pull against the men as he tried to get free. Without waiting, Mr. Pepper threaded a long piece of fishing line through the eyelet attached to the weighted strip. Once that was done, the man picked up the next hook, he held it in front of the boy's terrified eyes, then ran the hook through the bottom part of the boy's foreskin, causing the boy to jerk involuntarily as he let out another earsplitting shriek. "Fuck, he's loud," one of the counselors said as he saw the man pull another piece of fishing line through the second hook and then pull the line through the eyelet as well. "Just two more to go," Mr. Pepper said, as he removed a long thin needle from the briefcase as he watched the boy try to speak through his gag, obviously begging the man not to do what he was going to. The man grabbed one of the boy's tiny nipples and pulled it away from the boy's body, then with one quick motion, he pushed the needle through the boy's nipple, causing him to scream louder than any time before. After Mr. Pepper removed the needle, he pulled out a small solid gold hoop and passed it through the boy's nipple. He did the same to the boy's other nipple, causing the boy to scream and thrash about again. Once everything was in place, the man grabbed the boy and dragged him over the weighted strip of metal. He tied the boy's wrists to two more eyelets but left the boy's legs free. After that, he laid down next to the boy and tied the ends of the lines to the rings now held firmly by the boy's nipples. In this way, if the boy moved, even the slightest, it would apply pressure to his nipples and foreskin, causing excruciating pain. The fact that the boy had his back slightly arched while he was being tied down made it even worse because now he couldn't straighten his back without causing unbearable pain to his penis. "There we are," Mr. Pepper said, smiling at his handiwork. "Mr. Brady, you do the honors," Mr. Carlton said in a calm voice. "No," Mr. Brady said. "I mean, no thank you. It's my fault this all happened." "Mr. Brady," Mr. Carlton said. "Never say that again. You were not the one who tattled. You were not the one that nearly ruined this institution; this simpering brat was. The least the brat can do is let you fuck his ass." Mr. Brady didn't say anything, he just looked at the little blond-haired boy sobbing uncontrollably on the floor. "Bob," Mr. Simms said. "You wanted to be the first. Fuck him." Mr. Brady knew that it wasn't a request, he unbuckled his pants and pulled them down, releasing his soft cock from his pants. He had no doubts that this was going to cause pain to the boy, and the revulsion he felt in the pit of his stomach prevented his dick from getting hard. "Come now," Mr. Carlton said, tapping a young red-haired boy that looked to be about seven or eight, his own cheeks stained from tears, having had to watch the entire scene play out before him. "Go suck the man, get him hard or this will be you next." The boy whimpered as he hurried over and knelt before Mr. Brady, taking his cock in his mouth and sucking it expertly. It hardened despite Mr. Brady's silent protests. The boy continued to suck the man 'til Mr. Carlton called him back. "That's enough," Mr. Carlton said. "Come and stand by me. I may need those cute little lips before the afternoon's over." Mr. Brady knelt behind the boy, coating his cock with lubricant, looking at the small boy in front of him. He pushed his finger towards the boy's ass. "No," Mr. Carlton said. "He's had enough fingers up his ass, now it's time to show him how lucky he was it was just a finger." Mr. Brady shivered as he placed the tip of his penis against the little boy's pink hole and pushed forward, fighting the resistance of the boy's tiny hole. He watched as the boy began to wail and shake in surprise, lurching forward 'til he felt the excruciating pain in his foreskin and nipples, then trying desperately to relieve the pressure. The man, knowing the boy could not stay still on his own, held the boy by his hips, continuing to push his cock into the boy 'til the head passed through the stretched anal ring. The boy howled and begged. His eyes were wide open as he tried hard to breathe through the pain. Mr. Brady continued his slow descent into the boy, certain that it would be more humane to finish with him quickly than to prolong the experience, so despite the resistance he felt in the boy's ass, he did not stop pushing into the boy's bottom until he was all the way in. The boy thought he was dying; he could not believe anything could be that painful. If he had not been held still by Mr. Brady, he might have pulled the hooks in his foreskin completely free. Instead, there was just a constant painful tug on Dillon's tormented foreskin. Mr. Brady pulled his cock almost all the way out of the boy before pushing it slowly back in. As the audience watched and little Zack trembled, he started to slowly fuck the boy, listening to the boy's cries and whimpers, realizing that now, his cock was taking over. He started to thrust even harder, grunting as he entered the boy, causing the boy to continue to cry out from behind his gag, trying to stop the brutal experience. Mr. Brady surprised himself, he barely fucked the boy for five minutes before the boy's warm ass caused him to come. He groaned, pulling the boy back on his dick, causing the boy's nipples to be pulled away from his body. He grunted as he filled up the lad's bowels. "Poor form," Mr. Carlton said. "You don't come inside a lad, if he's going to be gang-banged. Oh well. Glen, you may go next." The boy sobbed as he felt the tip of Glen's penis at the entrance to his dilated hole. Chapter 10 Over the intercom, the boys heard the call for assembly in the TV room. Each boy took a seat on the couches and chairs. In the front of the room, Mr. Simms and several of the other counselors stood, still naked from their time with Zack. In front of him, they saw a form covered in a black sheet. Once everyone settled down, Mr. Simms motioned for the room to be quiet and began to speak. "As you all know," Mr. Simms began. "One of the boys in this home spread a vicious rumor about Mr. Brady. I understand that sometimes the counselors may force you to do things that you do not want to do, but that in no way excuses his actions. I want each and every one of you to know how serious this is, not only for you, but for your roommates and the other counselors here. That is why I am taking a serious stance on this issue." Mr. Simms walked down to stand in front of the covered form. "The punishment for such an infraction will be worse than anything you have ever felt before," Mr. Simms said in a loud, angry voice. "And the punishment will not end. No, you will be reminded every day for as long as you stay here that you have betrayed us, that you are not one of us, that you are not a boy, but a traitor." "I know you may think that if you tell, that you will not return to the home," Mr. Simms said, smiling. "That you'll be in the safe arms of the caring state, but I want you to know that that is the furthest from the truth. We can and will bring you back. You will suffer your punishment." With that, he pulled the cover off of the form, and each and every boy in the room saw Zack Dillon, naked, trickles of blood running down his chest, his body literally covered from head to toe in stripes. Those that were at the front of the room could see a thick stream of cum running down the boy's thighs, but the most terrifying sight of all were the rings in the boy's nipples connected by gold chains to the hooks that had been attached to the boy's foreskin. More than one boy let out a sob. No one spoke, the only sound that could be heard was the soft moaning of poor Dillon. "You thought he was gone?" Mr. Simms shouted. "You thought he would not be punished? Everyone who betrays this institution will be punished. Do you understand me?" There was silence. "Do you understand me?" Mr. Simms yelled even louder, causing some of the boys to jump. "Yes, sir!" The boys shouted in unison. "Good," Mr. Simms said, looking at Zack Dillon. "Get this piece of shit out of here. She's yours, Bob. Do whatever you want to her. Just make sure she can stand in front of the judge Friday." "What do you mean, Jim?" Mr. Brady asked. "She's yours," Mr. Simms said. "Just remember, she's not a boy, she's a bitch, and you dress her like a bitch." Mr. Simms bent over 'til his face was inches from the barely conscious boy, and said in a cruel voice, "You'll be wearing a dress from now on, unless you absolutely have to wear boy's clothes. You got that, little missy?" The boy didn't answer, so Mr. Simms wrapped his hands around the gold chains and pulled, yanking the boy's nipples and foreskin away from his body. "Yes! Yes!" The little blonde-haired boy screamed. In the end, Zack Dillon admitted to lying about Mr. Brady because he wanted to leave the home and be with his parents. The judge turned the case back over to Ms. Simms and closed the case. The judge also granted custody of the boy to the home. *** Zack Dillon's parents were found two years later in Brazil.They had bought a house and started a new life. When they found out their boy was living happily in a home, where he was able to play with other children, they made no attempt to gain custody of him. Instead, they stayed in Brazil, fighting extradition as they lived in their tropical dream home. Little Zack was named Betty by the counselors and lived at the institution until he turned eighteen. They ceased making him wear a dress when he turned fourteen and left for the teenager's home, but everybody knew Zack by then. After that, there were other boys that were considered traitors. None of the others actually told on anyone, rather they had brought suspicion on the house, which was enough. A group of them can still be seen on the Yard, standing in dresses. They are called by their girl names. Zack later went to college where he met his lover, another boy from the institution, little Ronny. They still live together in Greenwich Village. Neither of them talk much about the home, but occasionally Zack will dress as a little girl and beg Ronny to have sex with him. Glen Parker died several years later in a hit-and-run accident while he was riding his bicycle home. The police were never able to identify his assailant.

Chapter 1

Authors/William_Rush_Favorite_Stories/William Rush's Stories/13 The Fortunate Ones- The Lost (Mb, oral, anal, spank, nc, bond, extreme).txt

xyvos

Zeke and the Space Aliens

Zeke and the Space Aliens Zeke was a simple man, living a simple life on a simple farm. But one day, his life was turned upside down when a group of space aliens landed in his backyard. The aliens were fascinated by Zeke and his way of life. They observed him closely, studying his every move. Zeke, for his part, was both terrified and intrigued by the strange visitors. As the days passed, Zeke and the aliens began to form an unlikely bond. They would spend hours talking, sharing stories, and learning about each other's worlds. Zeke found himself drawn to the aliens' advanced technology and their curious ways. One day, the aliens made Zeke an offer he couldn't refuse - they wanted to take him back to their home planet, to see the wonders of the universe. Zeke, his curiosity piqued, agreed, and soon found himself soaring through the stars, surrounded by the vastness of space. On the alien planet, Zeke was treated like a celebrity. The aliens were fascinated by his simple way of life, and they showered him with attention and gifts. Zeke, in turn, was amazed by the technological marvels of the alien civilization. But as the days turned into weeks, Zeke began to miss his simple life on the farm. He longed for the familiar sights and sounds of his home. And so, with a heavy heart, he said goodbye to his alien friends and returned to Earth, his life forever changed by his extraordinary encounter with the space aliens.

MF+ alien ScFi

Authors/xyvos/index.txt

xyvos

Zeke and the Space Aliens

Zeke moved the joystick with the smooth, easy manner of someone well accustomed to its use. He manipulated the video game character on the TV screen, dodging attacks and taking out enemies. Zeke was not consciously thinking about the controls, but focusing on what his character needed to do: jump down the tube, dodge the pincer worm, grab the powerup, blast the worm, swim through the water exit, use megablast to get up speed so he wouldn't drown before the first airhole. Although the action looked frantic on the screen, Zeke's mind was calm. The intense game was, in its own way, relaxing. Walter burst through the door of the dorm room. "You've got to go with me out to the desert tonight!" Walter, Zeke's roommate at the university, was the embodiment of the word "geek," even down to his taped glasses and pocket protector. Now sophomores, they had shared a room since they were freshmen. "What's out in the desert, man?" asked Zeke, calmly zapping three tentacle plants. "Come over here and check this website out!" Curious, Zeke paused his game and peered over Walter's shoulder. The website had some cheesy pictures of UFOs and a story. In 1958, aliens had discovered intelligent life on the planet Earth. While the majority of the Earthlings were not ready for contact, a few Earthlings were. The aliens were interested in contacting those Earthlings, and provided instructions. It looked to Zeke like one of those just-for-fun websites, but it sure seemed to be pulling Walter's leg. "And all we have to do is go to one of these locations and call them up on CB channel eight," enthused Walter, holding up a printout. "I already emailed that we will be there tonight." "I don't know, dude, I was going to finish my new game tonight." "Aw, you spend too much time on those games," argued Walter. "It's not good for you, you should get out and do something real for a change." Exactly what Zeke's girlfriend had said before dumping him, Zeke mused. Maybe it was true, but Zeke wasn't the only one with unreal interests. "You mean real like calling up aliens on the CB in the desert?" grinned Zeke. Zeke was trying to be cool, but Walter was acting kind of weird. Zeke figured he should go with Walter to make sure he didn't get into any trouble. Besides, he just had to hear the response some long-haul trucker would make to Walter's CB message. "It took me two months of emailing to get this set up. If you don't want to go, fine. But that's no reason to make fun of..." "Sorry about that, dude. I'd like to go, but you left yourself wide open for that comeback and I just couldn't pass it up," laughed Zeke. An hour later, Zeke drove his car along the dirt road, high beams illuminating the darkness. There was no one around for miles, and they hadn't seen any traffic for the last half-hour. Zeke had been careful not to make any more jokes about the aliens; he knew Walter was into this stuff and didn't want to hurt his feelings -- sometimes you just had to be there for your buddies. "The odometer reads 47.5 miles. Stop here and turn off the engine," said Walter. Seems someone on the website had done their homework, there was a pullout just where the instructions said one would be. Zeke drove his car well off the road before killing the engine and lights; he hadn't seen any traffic, but parking too near the road at night would be stupid. "Well, let's do this," said Walter as he grabbed the CB. Turning it to channel eight, all he got was a faint static. "This is the Earthman looking to meet up with the Spaceman," said Walter, "anyone got your ears on?" Zeke suppressed a chuckle. The CB continued its static, but no response. Well, Zeke would wait a while before suggesting they go back. It was peaceful out here away from everything, with the cool night air blowing through the windows. "All right," started Walter, "I guess I really didn't expect... Holy shit! Look at that!" "That" turned out to be a ring of lights descending directly above them. The lights were dim, and whatever it was made no noise. Zeke wondered if this was an elaborate practical joke. Maybe someone in a hot air balloon? Was Walter in on it? Did whoever was behind it really think they were going to fool anyone? Well, Zeke would play along. "Zeke, I'm not so sure about this. Maybe we should get out of here," said a panicked Walter. "Be cool," said Zeke, grabbing his car keys. "We came out here to meet the aliens. Let's go meet them. Besides, you know the cars never start in these situations." Zeke got out of the car and looked around. The lights from the craft above them illuminated the rocky ground. There was no sign of civilization except for the deserted road. Walter was still in the car, peering out the window. The illumination got brighter and Zeke saw the craft was still descending over them. As it got closer, he could see that the craft looked solid. The lights framed a depression in the bottom of the hull. Before long, the craft was directly over them, and came to a complete stop about 20 feet up in the air. Seen from this distance, the craft was at least several hundred feet in diameter. If this was a prank, it must have cost a bundle. The craft was the classic flying saucer shape, dark grey in color, just like the pictures on the website. It hung in the air, absolutely silent. The ship looked real. If it were, thought Zeke, he was about to meet some actual aliens. A little scary at first, but it could be awesome. They might get to see things most people only dream about. How much technology would the aliens show them? What would they look like? A motion on the craft interrupted Zeke's thoughts. From the depression, a grey circular disk about eight feet in diameter started descending. Zeke watched, spellbound. As it moved lower, he saw a slender railing come into view and someone, or something, standing in the middle. The disk settled on the ground right in front of the car and Zeke got a good look at the alien. Any remaining doubts he had were banished -- no one on earth made costumes this good. The alien was about five feet tall and bipedal, but nothing like a human. Its skin was light blue, mottled with dark blue splotches, and completely hairless. The head was sort of like a mushroom; the top half was the same size as a human head, but the bottom half tapered off like it didn't have a jawbone. Large unblinking pink eyes protruded from the sides, and a vertical slit for a mouth completed the front. The head merged into the body without a neck, and the shoulders were almost non-existent. Two double-jointed arms ended in spindly fingers with no fingernails. Something that looked like a cross between gills and feathers covered the chest in a mixture of green and blue, stopping just short of its head. The two legs were thin, and looked like they each had two knees spaced six inches apart, but tan pants and boots prevented Zeke from making a closer examination. "I am Mvek," started the alien. "My pleasure to meet you." The alien had a deep, almost musical voice. Zeke noticed the mouth remained still, the voice seemed to emanate from the chest area, probably the gill things. "You may be startled by the ship, by my appearance, by your stories about aliens," continued Mvek, "Know I will not hurt or detain you. I invite you to step on this platform, tour the ship, ask questions, and listen to my words." Mvek stepped back, leaving plenty of room on the platform for his guests. "Hi, I'm Zeke, and this is Walter," said Zeke looking over at Walter, who was still in the car. "Hey Walter, come on, man, let's check out the ship." "Zeke... we should get out of here," stammered Walter. "Are you crazy," said Zeke, "You would never forgive yourself in a million years if you ran off now -- you know that. So suck it up, dude." "I don't know about this. We shouldn't be here," said Walter, in a panicky voice. "This was your idea in the first place, dude. You deserve to see it through. A friendly alien is offering to take you aboard his ship, you have been dreaming about stuff like this for years. How can you pass this up, man?" asked Zeke, opening the car door and pulling a scared Walter out, and dragging him towards the platform. Walter broke free of Zeke's grip and ran behind the car. "If you don't get on that platform right now, what are you going to tell yourself tomorrow?" asked Zeke, "You do what you have to do, dude. But me, I'm going before Mvek gets tired of us dicking around." "Sorry about that, Mvek," said Zeke, stepping on the platform, "my friend Walter really wants to come along, he's just freaked out." "Understandable," said Mvek. "Walter, I will take Zeke aboard now. You will remain here, you will be safe." Mvek pressed on a small console and the gap in the railing closed. Now the railing completely enclosed the platform, preventing them from falling out. "Wait!" shouted Walter, "I want to go too!" Mvek opened the railing once again and a hesitant Walter stepped aboard. Walter kept as far from Mvek as he could, obviously frightened of the alien. "Walter, you are safe," said Mvek. "Know I will not hurt or detain you." Zeke knew Walter would soon get over his fears.After all, Walter knew the Enterprise deck layout by heart; he would forget all his concerns once they were aboard the ship. Likely, he would be asking questions non-stop. "We will ascend to the ship now," said Mvek, pressing the console. The platform rose smoothly and silently upwards and slid into the ship, becoming the floor of a small circular room. A strange tingling sensation engulfed Zeke's entire body, but it quickly passed. Probably just the excitement, thought Zeke. Lights came on in the room, and Zeke looked around. Dark purple walls made of a smooth, unfamiliar material surrounded them. A section of the railing slid back, and at the same time, a section of the wall opened, leading to a larger area. "Walk with me," said Mvek. Zeke walked beside Mvek. Walter followed, but was still keeping his distance from Mvek. This room was about 100 feet long, the ceiling a light blue. The walls had dark green stripes framing what looked like yellow cabinets with no handles. For some reason, there were two normal Earth-type vehicles: an old Ford truck and an RV. "What's with the vehicles?" asked Zeke. "Other people of Earth were shown this ship," said Mvek. "We invited them to come with us. We keep their possessions here. They may decide to return." "Will we get the chance to go with you?" asked Zeke. Zeke was busy looking around as he talked with Mvek. Walter remained silent, but his eyes were darting everywhere. "Yes," said Mvek, "I will explain in a moment." They proceeded through the storage room into a hallway. It was big enough to drive the RV through and twice as long as the storage room. The ceiling and walls were blue and green, the same colors as the storage room. Doors shaped like arches were interspersed along the hallway, most of them closed. Between the doors, alcoves featured a variety of plants. Many of the plants were unfamiliar. One had hard pink disk-shaped protrusions covered with short spikes; it was surrounded by a white moss-like growth. Another looked like a sculpture, just a set of dark brown hoops halfway embedded in the ground. Some of the plants would not look out of place on Earth, they may have even been from Earth. Mvek motioned at one of the doors, and it silently opened, revealing a large circular room with a domed ceiling. The walls were a vivid white, with no visible joints, not even a smudge or speck of dust could be seen. The party stopped in the center of the room. The door closed, blending perfectly into the wall. Something subtly changed in the room, and suddenly all they could see was white; with no focal points, the room seemed an unending white expanse. The light dimmed, and a miniature representation of the Milky Way galaxy appeared, floating in the air. A hologram, Zeke thought. To one side, about a third of it was glowing brightly, the rest was dimmer. Mvek explained the glowing portion indicated the explored parts of the galaxy. In this explored part, thousands of intelligent beings lived, on thousands of planets. Some of those beings had developed space travel. Of those, a small number were despoiling other worlds, enslaving their peoples, and just generally being a nuisance. Other beings, seeing this devastation, had pooled their resources in an effort to protect the weaker worlds. Mvek was a member of this group, collectively known as the Hirthal. As Mvek was explaining, the image of the galaxy expanded, showing fleets of spaceships battling in space. Then it zoomed in on a small yellow star. "Hey, that's our solar system," said Walter, breaking his silence for the first time since boarding the ship. Some worlds, like Earth, were still in the very early stages of space travel. Most were unaware of the danger. "Why haven't you contacted our planet?" asked Walter. "Told them what's going on?" "In the beginning," said Mvek, "the Hirthal contacted developing worlds. Knowledge of the threat caused panic. Some governments collapsed." With the number of developing worlds being protected, the protectors were stretched thin. Help was needed, and while the entire population of a developing planet might not be able to handle the truth, some individuals could. Those individuals provided the sentient beings needed to defeat the aggressors. Contacting those individuals proved a challenge, but was feasible through a variety of methods designed to isolate only those appropriate for contact. "I request each of you to consider giving your help," said Mvek. "You would choose a useful skill for running one of our ships. The Hirthal would train you in the skill. When training is complete, you would choose a ship." This was heavy stuff, thought Zeke. Being a crewman on a starship was definitely several steps above Zeke's previous career path. Mvek was a recruiter, maybe like for the army, Zeke considered. Was there a catch? "Can I be a captain?" asked Walter, suddenly very interested. "So is this like the army?" asked Zeke. "Superior officers, enlisting for a certain amount of time, standing at attention?" "I will answer both questions with one explanation," said Mvek. Mvek went on to explain there was no chain of command as they were used to. There was a captain, or captains, but the relationship between the captain and the crew was of an informal nature. The crew agreed to follow the captain's direction, but nothing more than their agreement compelled them to do so. Should a crewmember decide to ignore the captain, they could, with no penalty. "How can that work?" asked Walter. "What about if nobody wants to patrol some sector? What if they all just leave?" "My task," said Mvek, "is to find beings who will patrol that sector. Leaving is allowed. If no one can be found, the sector will not be patrolled." "After our training," said Walter, "we will know all about your technology, your secrets. What if we left and took the information back to Earth?" "I request you to refrain," said Mvek. "Should your government or industry discover what you know, you might lose your freedom." Zeke tried not to think about that. He definitely would not be telling tales if he went back though. What a way to end the week, Zeke thought. A lark had become a major turning point in his life, something he had not even thought possible. Now he could be on the crew of a starship, all he had to do was say yes. Well, and go through the training of course. "Is Earth not being protected?" asked Walter. "Is that why you are here?" "Earth is adequately protected," said Mvek, "as much so as my own homeworld." And what would Zeke do aboard this starship? Engineer? Not likely, coming from (as he now knew) such a backward planet, it could take forever to get up to speed. What he would really like to do would be to fly the starship. That would be better than any video game, ever! "Well, count me in," said Zeke. "Where do I sign up?" "I am pleased with your decision," said Mvek, "You are signed up. I will continue the tour now." The door opened, and Mvek led them back into the hallway and to the right. He motioned at another door, and it opened. "That's great!" enthused Zeke. "Hey, Walter, you're going to join up, aren't you?" "I probably will," said Walter, "just give me a minute to think." The next room looked to be a living quarters with a blue ceiling, light green walls, and a dark green floor. The room was circular, about 30 feet in diameter. An enormous round bed with light green covers filled a depression in the middle. A few of the smaller arched doors were on the far wall, and Zeke wondered what rooms they led to. Built-in cabinets covered the far wall, and a few built-in desks graced the near wall. Tables and couches looked more like sculpture than furniture. This was one nice living quarters, Zeke thought. "Zeke," said Mvek, "this room is your living quarters. While you are aboard this ship." Mvek continued towards the door in the middle. Mvek showed them the activation gesture, a twisting circular motion of the hand in mid-air. It worked for doors, computers, just about everything. Mvek motioned at the door, and it opened to reveal a small, bare room. Wall-length mirrors covered all four walls. What Zeke guessed to be a large sink was on one wall, and in the center, there were three oval depressions, each about a foot wide. Zeke had a good idea what they were, even aliens had to go sometime. "Deposit your bodily wastes in the depression, then use the activation gesture," said Mvek, picking up a glass of water and a small, circular object from the sink. "This leaf will demonstrate," said Mvek, dropping the leaf into the depression. It slowly sank into what had appeared to be a solid surface, disappearing. Mvek filled the glass from the sink, then poured the water into the depression, where it disappeared into the surface. Zeke noticed there was no splatter. Definitely a nice feature. "What happens if we fall in?" asked Zeke. "I recommend you avoid falling in," said Mvek. "You would sink in a few feet. You could get out with minor effort. You would suffocate if your head remained under." Zeke resolved not to fall in. It did seem like a lot of technology just to take a dump, but considering the sewage infrastructure and waste treatment plants on Earth, maybe not so different after all. Mvek exited the restroom and proceeded to explain the rest of the quarters. The next room was larger and for bathing, with a sizeable tub and shower. The last room was a storage closet. In the main room, the deep cabinets had a variety of shelves to hold all manner of possessions; Zeke opened a few, they were empty. The built-in tables each had a holographic computer interface. Having explored the living quarters, Mvek led them back to the hall and into another room. This room turned out to be the dining room, with the same blue ceiling and green walls; the colors must be an attempt to replicate the outdoor Earth environment, Zeke suddenly realized.The room, large enough to seat two dozen people, was empty. "Are we the only ones aboard the ship?" asked Zeke. "Eight other beings are here," said Mvek. "Do they all look like you?" asked Walter. "Five are different species. Three are human. They have joined the Hirthal," replied Mvek. Mvek continued the tour. They entered an area filled with plants. The tall, long room had row upon row of plants growing close together in clear tubes on multiple levels. Zeke recognized corn, potatoes, tomatoes, cabbage, spinach, and others. Many he did not recognize, some had large pink or speckled leaves, others were just jumbles of spikes. A gentle, cool breeze blew his hair. "You mean you don't replicate your food?" asked Walter. Mvek paused, took out a small oval object, and began manipulating it. Zeke figured it was some kind of small computer. Shortly, Mvek was finished. "Reconstructing consumables is dangerous. Small errors may cause harm to the consuming organism." They continued through the maze of plant life. Stairways provided access to the many levels of platforms. The plants grew in a colored liquid, held in place by what looked like cloth ties. "So I guess you don't have transporters either," said Walter. "Transporting a living entity is unethical," said Mvek. Walter and Mvek discussed the moral ramifications of transporter technology, but Zeke tuned them out. They had not run across anyone else so far. Was the ship really that big, or was Mvek hiding something? He thought back to their initial encounter and Walter's reaction. Perhaps that was it, if Walter freaked as much as he did with just Mvek, how would he have handled six different-looking aliens? Next on the tour was the control room of the ship. The control room was a half-circle, twenty-five feet in diameter, with large viewscreens on the walls. Most had different views of the Earth from space. A few showed status information, with faint circles and simple moving shapes. At the center of the room was a curved panel rising seamlessly from the floor with three comfortable chairs behind it. Aliens occupied two of those chairs. One of the aliens was of Mvek's race, the other attracted Zeke's attention immediately, since he recognized it from the movies and the UFO abduction shows on TV. It was one of the Greys, four feet tall, humanoid, spindly grey body, big head, and black eyes. Looks like some of the abductees were telling the truth, mused Zeke. From the viewscreens, they looked to be in orbit around Earth, but Zeke had not felt the ship move. For that matter, they were still standing on the floor when they should have been weightless. The aliens flying the ship looked up briefly, but did not speak to the newcomers. Walter was too busy looking around to speak anyway. "I know English. The others do not know English," explained Mvek. All too soon, Mvek led them back to the hallway and into another room. This was a medium-sized, circular room with several seating areas. Three humans were having a discussion in one of the areas. Mvek sat on a couch in the nearest empty seating area. Zeke sat down beside Mvek, and Walter sat on the couch across from them. "Our tour is concluded. Walter, have you decided?" asked Mvek. "Oh sure! I'll do it!" said Walter. "I am pleased. I welcome you to the Hirthal," said Mvek. "The Hirthal requires members to show civilized behavior. You must not harm other members. You must not force other members to perform disagreeable actions. I will explain more later." "I'll agree to that," said Zeke. "Me too," said Walter. "I am pleased," said Mvek. "We will contact one more human tomorrow. We will depart your solar system tomorrow. Our journey to the training facility requires six Earth days. You will learn our language." Mvek went on to explain the language they would learn was the galactic standard language, spoken by most known races. Standard was created expressly for ease of communication, was simple to learn, and pronounceable, with some limitations, by most sentient beings. They would be able to learn the language in under six days with the help of mental stimulation technology, but the method did have some disadvantages. "You will be disoriented during the procedure," Mvek told them. "We start tomorrow." Learning standard was to be their first task and they would remain aboard this ship to do so. This would give them the opportunity to get accustomed to the other aliens, and see what life is like aboard a spaceship. They would not start the training process until the ship was underway, to give them time to reconsider. "I don't plan on changing my mind," said Zeke. "But I'm worried about my family finding me missing, and freaking out. Can I tell them something so they won't worry?" "The computer maintains different approaches to your issue," said Mvek, "use the gesture to activate it." Zeke resolved to do so before he went to sleep. No one could possibly notice him missing until at least a few days from now, probably not for several weeks. The other humans had all been picked up earlier today. The three here were Susan, Dan, and Mike. They had gone through the same website as Walter, exchanging emails for a time, then coming out to meet Mvek. Zeke noticed Susan and Dan were wearing similar clothes, a two-piece white outfit that wouldn't have been out of place on Earth. Susan wore a form-fitting tank top and a pair of loose pants, almost like pajama bottoms. Dan wore a looser tank top and the same type of pants. Both Susan and Dan were barefoot. "So are you guys wearing the official uniform?" asked Zeke. "They were in the closet in our room," said Dan, "so we figured we'd try them out." "It's really comfortable," said Susan, smiling at Dan. "The top acts like a bra, but you hardly notice it's there." Hardly there at all, thought Zeke, noticing the outline of Susan's nipples. A moot point though, Susan and Dan were obviously an item. "This ship has some amazing things," said Dan. "The walls in the quarters are viewscreens. You can set them to any color or even a moving image. And get this," added Dan, "they don't generate light. I dimmed the room lights, the images will still move, even if it's dark." Dan and Susan explained the quarters and other things were controlled by communicating with the ship's computer. It wasn't a true AI, but it did have an advanced command recognition. All commands to the computer had to start with the spoken word: "Computer." Later, they met the remaining alien. She was wearing the same white outfit as Susan, and looked a lot more human than Mvek and the Greys. She stood about four and a half feet tall and had very pale skin. Except for the ears and missing nose, she could almost pass for a human that had never seen the sun. Her hair was short all over, but strangely divided into two sections. The top of her head was covered with a stiff, thick, light-green hair about three inches long. Her eyebrows swept back and joined it at the sides, where the hair thinned out into very fine shorter white strands. Her eyes and mouth looked mostly human, but in place of a nose was a flat area with two horizontal slashes half the width of her mouth, one right over the other. Each slash opened slightly as she breathed. Her ears swept back, the outsides were covered with the fine hair, the insides were light pink. Her body was shaped like a human's, a very thin human, with almost normal-looking arms and legs, and five digits on each hand. But she had no visible breasts, and her bare feet were half again as wide as human feet, with three widely-spaced, equal-sized toes. Mvek introduced her as Sori, the ship's medical specialist. Sori did not speak English. Alien, but cute, thought Zeke. He smiled at Sori, not having a better way to say hello. Sori tilted her head and looked at Zeke; her face was expressionless. Sori took the opportunity to give each of them an examination. All she did was pass a small tubelike device over their heads, not touching them. The device then emitted a complex hologram in midair, lots of circles and lines of all different colors. Sori carefully examined the hologram after she finished with each of them. She then spoke with Mvek in an alien language. "Sori reports good health for all of you," said Mvek. Not having a common language prevented Sori from joining the conversation, and she soon departed. After a while, they wound up looking around the ship as they talked with Mvek. A few areas were inaccessible. "Some areas are dangerous," said Mvek. "Examples are ships engines, medical facility, crew dining room." Even though the different alien species shared many things, food was not always among them. Food for some species was poison for others. To make sure the humans did not come to harm, the crew's dining room was off limits. As were other areas where the curious humans could inadvertently get hurt, especially when they were disoriented by the mental stimulation procedure. "The mental stimulation procedure is unpleasant," said Mvek. "Speaking Standard is necessary for communicating with others." "Hey Mvek," said Mike, "how much do we get paid for working on your ships?" "Approximately 150 credits a week," said Mvek. "Food, housing, clothing, medical, and other needs are provided to everyone." "What's a credit look like?" asked Mike. "A credit is a number in a computer," said Mvek. "It has no physical existence." Mvek went on to explain credits were not exactly like money. Credits could not be invested, earn interest, or be transferred to another. Credits were merely an accounting method to control distribution of resources. While all necessities were provided at no cost, credits allowed the acquisition of for-fun items. Finally, as it was getting late, most of the group decided to get some sleep and headed to their quarters. Zeke was still too excited to sleep and wanted to have one last look around the ship.He found his car in the storage bay and gave it a quick cleaning, since the backseat and trunk doubled as a storage bin and garbage can. Most of the stuff was junk, and Zeke put it in the disposal. Zeke then hauled the keepers back to his quarters, putting his stuff in one of the empty cabinets. Feeling the need, Zeke urinated in the elimination device, watching bemusedly as his stream pooled in the bottom and disappeared. Finished, he made the hand gesture and felt a strange tingling on his hand for a moment. Interesting, that hadn't happened before when he gestured at the door. Was there something wrong with the device? He examined his hand. It seemed just fine. Weird. Zeke decided to check out the computer terminal, take a bath, and then get some sleep. He wanted to be well-rested and alert for tomorrow. Sitting down at the desk, Zeke used the gesture. No tingling, but a holographic display appeared. It was a three-dimensional representation of several boxes, each having a label. On the first row: quarters, ship, health, food, contacting, emergency, Standard. Zeke touched "contacting" and text appeared. There were a number of stories people had used, from the Peace Corps to becoming a monk. The story Zeke liked best was joining the Peace Corps and going off to some remote country with limited communications. There were several sample letters with what looked like a solid story; Zeke added a few personal touches and quickly pieced together a brief email. He wasn't sure how it would be sent, but this was alien technology after all. His family would still worry, but at least he wouldn't just vanish off the face of the earth. The truth would probably worry them more, even if they did believe him. With nothing else to do, Zeke checked out the "quarters" box and found some really interesting things. The clothes cleaner was in the closet and would automatically clean whatever clothes he hung there. The room with the tub also had a "shower" that cleaned without water. He could have a holographic window showing any views he wanted anywhere in his room. The water temperature in the bathtub adjusted by computer command. His room cleaned itself. The door opened, and Walter walked in. "I just found out something you will want to know," said Walter. "I'm all ears," replied Zeke. "You won't find any toilet paper. Just make the gesture and it will tingle you clean," said Walter. One mystery solved. "You're a lifesaver, dude," said Zeke. "No problem," said Walter. "It's pretty late, I'm going to get some sleep." After Walter left, Zeke explored the bathtub. It was an eight-foot circular depression, about four feet deep, to one side of the room. The wall above had a geometric pattern with several two-inch diameter holes. The sides of the tub were rough, offering good traction, but comfortable. The gesture started it filling with water that ran down the far wall out of the holes. Within minutes, the tub was filled with warm water. Cabinets in the wall held towels and bottles of clear liquid. Someone had been nice enough to label them "soap" and "shampoo" in English. The water could have been a bit warmer, but it was okay for now. Zeke would remember to have the computer adjust the temperature next time. Right now, he would just enjoy a good soaking. After he was finished with the bath, a gesture drained the tub very quickly, although there were no drain holes visible. Zeke noticed it was completely dry. Since he hadn't packed a suitcase, Zeke hung his clothes in the closet. He would have to sleep naked to allow his clothes time to be cleaned. Probably Mvek would get him some more clothes, but that hadn't happened yet. The top of the mattress was a few inches above floor level, the floor around the bed well-padded. Wondering what would happen, Zeke made the gesture over the bed. Covers which had been neatly tucked in now floated back gracefully, surprising Zeke. The bed was even more comfortable than it looked. Zeke got settled under the covers and realized he didn't know how to turn off the lights. Not wanting to get out of bed, he tried the gesture, but nothing happened. There didn't seem to be any switches on the walls either. Of course, there was a way, but it certainly wasn't obvious. Maybe the aliens slept with the lights on. Oh, the computer. "Computer..." The door opened, and Sori walked in, apparently the aliens didn't knock either. Sori walked over and stood by the bed, her face expressionless; she pulled her lips back, showing her teeth. What was with the teeth? Maybe she was trying to smile, like Zeke had smiled at her before. Zeke returned the smile, not sure what Sori wanted. Sori quickly took her top off and stepped out of her pants. With her top off, Zeke could see she didn't have any breasts at all, not even nipples -- she was completely flat-chested. Her groin had a small patch of light green hair, and Zeke could just see what looked like pussy lips. That part of her could pass for a human, from the outside at least. She stood before Zeke, her face still expressionless, and showed her teeth again. No way, thought Zeke. She couldn't mean... But what else could she mean? And why not, decided Zeke, feeling a little turned on. The only human female on this ship was Susan, and the only time he would get from Susan was what time Dan would be back. But Sori looked ready to give him some time right now, and Zeke wasn't about to chase her off. Doing it with a cute alien would make the mile-high club seem like a boring lecture. So what next? Right now, Sori was just standing, waiting for Zeke to make the next move. Zeke decided he would go slowly, so he wouldn't startle Sori and scare her off. He carefully pulled the covers back, sat up in the bed, and slowly moved his hand towards Sori's hand. Zeke gently took her hand, keeping his grip loose. Sori closed her lips and tilted her head slightly, regarding Zeke. Zeke gently tugged Sori towards him. Sori slowly walked up on the bed and knelt beside Zeke, looking up at him. She placed her free hand lightly on Zeke's chest, and Zeke responded by lightly touching Sori's chest. Zeke could feel her heart beating fast, he wasn't sure if she was excited or if that was her normal pulse rate. Certainly, he couldn't tell from her face, it just didn't show any recognizable human emotions. Sori let go of Zeke's hand and rose up on her knees, until her head was level with Zeke's. She slowly moved her head towards Zeke, and Zeke wondered what kissing Sori would be like. At least they wouldn't bump noses. But instead of the kiss Zeke was expecting, Sori started tenderly blowing on his nose. It was nice, thought Zeke, but it tickled a bit, especially when Sori blew into his nostrils. Zeke noticed Sori was blowing on him through her breathing slits; she seemed to have excellent control of them. Zeke figured he should reciprocate, but wasn't sure about blowing through his nose. He could blow well enough through his mouth, however, so he lightly blew on Sori's breathing slits. Zeke guessed he was doing all right, at least Sori didn't pull back. After blowing for a while, Zeke noticed Sori breathing heavier, so he probably was doing the right thing. Enough of the blowing, Zeke decided, time to get back to familiar territory. Zeke brushed his lips against Sori's, her lips felt dry. Sori quickly pulled her head back, so Zeke decided to work on mouth-to-mouth kissing later. Zeke started caressing Sori's sides with his hands while tenderly kissing her neck. Sori didn't pull back, so Zeke continued. Not being familiar with Sori's reactions or her language, Zeke couldn't tell if Sori was liking what he was doing, so he decided to go slowly and explore her body. Taking Sori by the shoulders, Zeke gently pushed Sori down on the bed. Sori complied as soon as she realized what Zeke wanted. Soon, she was lying on her back, looking up at Zeke. Zeke moved his caresses to Sori's stomach and hips and trailed kisses down Sori's chest to her bellybutton. At least she had a bellybutton, and a pretty sensitive one from the way she jumped when he blew into it. This was the best reaction he had gotten yet, so Zeke spent some time blowing and licking Sori's bellybutton. Sori hadn't made any noises yet, but she was breathing harder than before. Zeke didn't want to overdo the bellybutton, so he moved his attention down lower, to the light patch of green fur covering Sori's pussy. Since Sori's legs were only slightly parted, Zeke started by tracing around Sori's patch of hair and then lightly brushing his fingers through it. Zeke could see a few trickles of clear fluid leaking out from between Sori's pussy lips, so he just had to be doing things right. At least he hoped this meant Sori was excited; the events had gotten Zeke pretty worked up. Sori's pussy lips were completely closed, resting against each other; her pussy still looked normal to Zeke, but he wanted to get a closer look. Zeke gently pulled Sori's legs wider apart and moved between them. First running his fingers lightly over Sori's slit, Zeke slowly parted her pussy lips, revealing flesh the same light pink as her inner ears. Now Zeke could see some differences. Sori didn't have inner lips, her little vagina was open and leaking more clear fluid. About once every few seconds, her vagina would squeeze closed and then reopen, forcing more fluid out. As for her clit, Zeke couldn't even find the clitoral hood; just smooth pink flesh. Zeke lightly blew over Sori's entire groin. Sori didn't react other than to take a very deep breath and let it slowly out, so Zeke blew some more and started lightly, very lightly, tracing the opening of Sori's vagina with his fingertips. This brought on another deep breath from Sori. Encouraged, Zeke moved a finger inside of Sori's vagina, which quickly squeezed closed around his finger. Sori immediately sat up, pulling Zeke's finger out of her vagina.While Zeke was still trying to figure out what he had done wrong, Sori started pushing at his shoulders. Zeke allowed Sori to push him down on the bed, so he was lying on his back like Sori had been before. Zeke's cock had lost some of its rigidity from his concern when Sori had jumped up. But Sori started gently stroking it back to life, and soon Zeke was fully erect once again. When Sori saw he wasn't getting any bigger, she quickly straddled him, placing her pussy directly over his cock and slowly lowering herself onto it. She stopped the minute his glans touched her pussy, adjusted Zeke's cock with her hand, and continued lowering. Sori got just the tip of his cock inside her vagina when Zeke felt her vagina squeezing his glans. The feeling was incredible. Sori quickly placed both her hands against Zeke's stomach and held herself still for several seconds, breathing hard and trembling. Sori then lowered herself a little further onto Zeke's cock, until the next contraction of her vagina brought her to a halt once again. Halting at every vaginal contraction, Sori took several minutes to fully lower herself on Zeke's cock, and Zeke loved every inch of her warm, tight vagina. Finally, after Sori managed to engulf Zeke's entire cock, she rested for a short time, breathing hard and trembling, her chest and face noticeably flushed. Zeke lightly touched Sori's hips, but Sori gently removed his hands. She started rocking her hips back and forth, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Sori's deliciously tight pussy was warm and wet; Zeke could feel it caressing every inch of his cock, driving him towards what was sure to be a monumental orgasm. Every so often, Zeke could feel Sori's vagina contract, but Sori was no longer stopping, she kept up the pace right throughout the contractions. She moaned softly at each contraction, the first sounds Zeke had heard her make tonight. With each vaginal contraction, Zeke felt waves of pleasure flow through his cock, bringing his orgasm that much closer. He knew it wouldn't be long now. Suddenly Sori's vagina contracted harder than it had before, but only for an instant. Then it relaxed and immediately contracted again, the contractions starting to come so fast Sori's vagina was fluttering around Zeke's bursting cock. Already near the edge, this was too much for Zeke. His impending orgasm erupted. Zeke let out a moan and he started his own contractions, forcing his cum deep into Sori's pulsating vagina. Zeke looked into Sori's eyes. She stared past him, unseeing, as her contractions continued for a little longer. As her vagina settled down, Sori slowed her rocking, eventually becoming still. Sori then rested for a while, breathing starting to slow, her vagina still stretched around Zeke's softening cock. Sori slumped forward and lay upon Zeke's chest, her body going limp. She was surprisingly light, Zeke noticed. After staying in the same position for some time, Zeke concluded Sori had no intention of moving. That was fine with Zeke, Sori felt soft and warm resting on top of him. The way Sori was lying on him, Zeke could feel her heart beating faintly. It was much slower than before. Eventually, Zeke realized Sori had fallen asleep. He should probably pull the covers over the both of them and go to sleep himself. Not wanting to disturb Sori by struggling with the covers, Zeke tried the gesture. The sheets pulled themselves out from under Zeke's legs and gently came to a rest, covering both of them. Zeke gently wrapped his arms around Sori, trying not to wake her. "Computer," whispered Zeke, "lights out." The lights went out. As Zeke's eyes adjusted to the dark, he noticed a simulation of stars overhead. Sleep came easily. CHAPTER 2 Zeke woke the next morning and discovered the lights were already on, probably the light had woken him up. He was in the same position as when he had gone to sleep. Sori was still curled up on top of him, but had shifted position during the night and was now resting peacefully under the covers on the left side of Zeke's chest, with Zeke's arm draped loosely around her. What an experience, thought Zeke. Just yesterday he was an average college student; today he was going to become a defender of the galaxy, and had spent the night making love to a cute little alien named Sori. The door opened and Walter walked in. "You'll never guess..." started Walter. Walter froze, speechless, his mouth hanging open. Finally, Walter found his voice, "No way." Zeke made shushing motions, pointing to the sleeping Sori. "You didn't," stammered Walter, "Zeke, tell me you didn't." Zeke pointed to the door. Walter finally got the hint and left, looking back in disbelief. Zeke lightly stroked the hair on Sori's head. The look on Walter's face had been something else. As interested in aliens as Walter was, Zeke would have never figured him for a xenophobe. Well, Walter would get over it, like he had gotten over his fear of Mvek after their first encounter. Sori wiggled a bit, waking up, then crawled further up on Zeke's chest, so her face was directly above Zeke's face. She looked into his eyes for a bit, then blew softly into Zeke's nose. Zeke blew back at her and ran his fingers teasingly down her spine. Sori stopped blowing on Zeke's nose and climbed out of bed. She grabbed her clothes and headed towards the toilet cubicle. Shortly, she came out and entered the bath cubicle. Zeke took the opportunity to use the toilet cubicle himself and remembered Walter's advice from last night, apparently whatever exposed flesh was over the device got cleaned thoroughly. He would never have to worry about skid marks again, Zeke laughed to himself. Sori had already left when Zeke checked the bath cubicle, so Zeke took a quick shower. He looked around and found some supplies in a cabinet over one of the built-in desks. A short, blunt stick was labeled "toothbrush." There was no toothpaste, but, remembering the toilet, it didn't take a genius to figure out how it might work. After some experimentation, Zeke found squeezing the end activated it. The stick labeled "shaver" worked even better. In seconds his light stubble was gone. In the closet, Zeke found some clothes he had not seen before -- several sets of the same light, comfortable pants and sleeveless shirts he had seen Dan wearing. There were no shoes to go with the other clothes so Zeke decided to go barefoot. The clothes were as comfortable as they looked, but ordinary; certainly nothing like one would imagine alien clothing to be like. Looking at the unmade bed, Zeke tried the hand gesture. To his delight, the sheets straightened and the covers tucked themselves back in their place -- a perfectly made bed in seconds. According to the computer, the bed was self-cleaning, so no worries about changing the sheets. Zeke found the other humans in the dining room and went over to greet them. Breakfast was laid out neatly for them, buffet style; it looked like a normal Earth-type breakfast food. None of the aliens were about. Walter was sitting at a table by himself. He was wearing yesterday's clothes, but they were cleaned and looked like they had been ironed. Even the pencil marks over his pocket protector were gone. Zeke had forgotten to check his own clothes, but they were probably just as clean. Zeke picked out his food and took his plate over to sit by Walter. "Hey dude," said Zeke, "You're not going to stay freaked out over this morning are you?" "No," said Walter, avoiding Zeke's eyes. "But?" prompted Zeke. "It's just..." started Walter, looking disgusted, "I mean, she's not even human." "We're up here with all these aliens," said Zeke, "and you're talking like a xenophobe. How would you feel if Mvek and Susan got it on and Sori said 'eww, gross, she's not even an alien'?" "Well," sighed Walter after a minute, "I guess you've got a point, but Mvek is pretty gross. If you look hard, you can see his insides through those feathery things on his chest." "Aw," said Zeke, "those are just some sort of gills. I don't think it's gross, just different. Anyway, it seems to me the Greys and Sori are more humanlike. You don't think they're gross, do you?" "No." "See," said Zeke, "that wasn't so hard. If you get more comfortable with the aliens, just smile at Sori; she might pay you a visit." "No way," said Walter, eyes wide, "You just... smiled?" Zeke smiled at Walter, not saying anything, and started on his plate. What he thought were eggs and bacon turned out not to be real meat at all, but something like vegetarian food. They definitely tasted different, but were not bad. After breakfast Mvek invited them to the sitting area. Mvek requested the humans wait in the sitting area while he conducted the tour for their last guest, who was being picked up this morning. To Zeke's surprise, Mvek activated some holographic viewscreens so they could watch. The ship rapidly descended towards Earth. They were headed towards the night side of the planet, but the viewscreen showed an enhanced image making it easy to see. Not that there was much to see, they seemed to be descending towards an ocean, far away from land. Soon a small watercraft came into view, and the ship stopped just above it. Mvek did his platform trick. A man came out, dressed in a heavy coat. This time the platform hovered beside the boat, and after a few minutes of looking at Mvek, he jumped aboard the platform. Mvek had not turned on the sound so they could not hear the discussion as the man toured the ship, but the man definitely seemed impressed and was asking Mvek a lot of questions. For some reason, Mvek did not lead the man to the sitting room when they were done, but instead took him back down to his boat using the platform. Once Mvek came back aboard, the ship rapidly left the ocean surface and returned to space.It did not stop after exiting the atmosphere, but continued onward, the Earth visibly dwindling in the viewscreen. "I somehow expected the stars to streak by," said Dan, "but if it weren't for the view of the Earth shrinking so fast, I'd swear we were standing still." "We're probably still in the solar system," said Walter, "the stars are so far away we'd have to be moving a lot faster to even notice them moving." Just then, Mvek entered the room. "How come the guy didn't join us?" asked Zeke. "He stated joining the Hirthal was not his desire," said Mvek. "He's not the only one," said Susan to Zeke, "five people chickened out before you two came." "You are all here," said Mvek, "do you reconsider your decision to leave Earth? Know we require a month to return after today." "No way, I still want to see the galaxy as much as before," said Dan. They all agreed. "I am pleased," said Mvek, "We now start the mental stimulation procedure. Please follow me." Mvek led them to a room they had not seen before. Circular, about 30 feet in diameter, with comfortable looking chairs around the circumference. The chairs each had a built-in padded headset in the open position. Sori was also there, but did not give Zeke any special attention. Was last night it, or was she just being professional around the others? Zeke wished he could speak Sori's language now. "Be seated," said Mvek. The humans each took a chair and Mvek showed them how to get into the headsets. It was pretty simple, just position their heads comfortably against the mesh and pull down the top part. With the headset closed, it shut out most of the light and ambient noise. Zeke wondered what the mental stimulation would be like, and soon got his answer. A gentle prickling radiated throughout his scalp, barely noticeable. Then a hologram appeared before his eyes. It was an empty space surrounded by a faint wavy line, and was soon replaced by a single dot, then two dots, then three dots, all the way up to seven dots. Then he heard a monotone voice say "numbers." The voice then said "Ovi," as the an empty space glowed. "Nai," as the single dot glowed. "Sri," as the two dots glowed. It continued up to the seven dots, "Tei." Was he supposed to remember them all? Zeke realized he had already forgotten what number one was. The voice went through the numbers again. This time each word was accompanied by a strange feeling, as if his attention were completely focused on the moment. Zeke found himself forgetting everything else, his entire world the voice and the numbers. And then it was over and he could think again. Zeke realized he could remember the words for all the numbers easily: Ovi, Nai, Sri, Hoi, Wui, Lyi, Mbi, Tei. He didn't have too much time to congratulate himself though, an outline of a circle appeared, the voice said "shapes," and in moments it had gone through more shapes then he even knew existed. From circle to dodecahedron. And it continued with units of measurement, body parts, household items, foods, plants, planets, spaceships, actions, and everything under the sun. In between times of the strange focused feeling Zeke knew he was remembering everything. Too bad he hadn't had this to study for zoology tests at his college. Zeke was startled when it finally stopped and Sori was lifting his helmet up. He started to get up but as soon as he raised his head he felt dizzy. Sori gently pushed his head back down. "Four. Minutes," she said. Good idea thought Zeke as he waited for the spinning to stop. In a few minutes it did. Zeke considered what Sori had said, he knew she had told him to rest for a few minutes but had said it in Standard. Not a complete sentence, just individual words. And he knew what those words meant without having to translate them into English in his head. He knew Wua's of Standard words, but probably not all of them. But he had no idea how to put them together in a sentence. Well, that could come later. "Holy shit!" said Susan, "I remember them all!" Now that was definitely English, thought Zeke. He didn't think they had covered cursing yet. "Lunch," said Sori. Somewhat unsteadily, they made their way to lunch. The dizziness had mostly stopped, but no one felt very much like talking. An hour after lunch Sori led them back to the teaching room and they went another round with the machine. When it was over they somehow found their way to their quarters. Zeke took a nap and suspected the others were doing the same. Zeke woke up in a few hours, better but still feeling a bit fuzzy. A few people were in the dining room. Dinner was subdued, they just didn't have the energy to make conversation. Zeke finished eating and left. Wandering about the ship for a few hours cleared Zeke's head, and he started thinking about Sori. Did Sori consider them in a relationship? And if so, what kind of relationship? Zeke had no idea. For all he knew, they were either married or she was preparing to cook and eat him for her next meal. Zeke decided not to assume anything, he would just follow Sori's lead. She was definitely different, and more importantly, she was not human. Her face did not show expressions the way a human female's would, but from her heavy breathing, flushed face, and gentle moaning, Zeke was positive Sori had enjoyed last night as much as he had. Perhaps she would be up for another night of fun. He hadn't run into her so far, maybe she was in her quarters. But even if he did know where it was, should he just barge in on her? Well, Sori had barged in, so maybe that would be all right. Perhaps his computer listed the location of her quarters... Shortly, Zeke gestured his door open and sat down at his computer. The box labeled ship looked promising. He touched it and a cut-away three-dimensional image of the ship appeared, showing the layout of the decks. But it did not identify who was in the individual quarters. Would the computer be able to tell him? "Computer," said Zeke, "show me Sori's quarters on the hologram." One of the rooms glowed brighter. That must be it, decided Zeke. Third door from the end of the main hall on the left. It was starting to get near bedtime, so Zeke took a quick shower, hung his used clothes in the closet to be cleaned, and put on some fresh clothes. Hopefully he would catch Sori before she went to sleep. Zeke walked down to the other end of the main corridor, and used the gesture on the third door. It opened, revealing a brightly lit room. The room seemed to be in the middle of a forest, but Zeke quickly realized the viewscreens were at work. Thick trees with large fanlike leaves covered the walls of the room, a light blue sky with a few fluffy clouds graced the ceiling. Other than the interesting wall display, the room was the same as Zeke's, right down to the large bed in the middle of the room. Sori was seated at a computer with lots of alien text floating before her. She turned in her chair towards Zeke as he entered. "Tai," said Sori, looking at Zeke. "Tie," said Zeke, wondering what he was agreeing to. The language lessons hadn't gotten to the words for making out, so Zeke walked over to Sori, knelt in front of her so he was eye-level, and slowly blew on her nostril slits. "Three. Minutes," said Sori, firmly pushing Zeke's head away. Sori hurriedly walked into the center room with the toilets. In about a minute she came out and entered the room to the left. There was a reason for putting the toilet and bath in one room, Zeke mused, as he waited for Sori to finish bathing. Before her three minutes were up Sori came out, naked. She lay down on top of her bed and regarded Zeke. Sori was something else, Zeke thought. She didn't seem to have any hangups about sex and she certainly looked ready enough to give it another try. Zeke remembered Sori going to sleep soon after cumming, and decided to prolong their encounter as long as possible. Sori had seemed content to just lie there until Zeke's finger had gone inside her vagina, what would happen if he just avoided the inside of her vagina for a while? Only one way to find out, Zeke concluded. He got undressed quickly (not having shoes or underwear made that easy) and lay down beside Sori, propping himself up on his elbow. Zeke started blowing gently into Sori's nose slits again. Sori responded by blowing back at Zeke. This was nice, but didn't do much for Zeke except tickle his nose. Sori hadn't liked mouth-to-mouth kissing, so Zeke decided to move on to something they both would enjoy. Starting at Sori's neck, Zeke trailed kisses down her chest until he was close to her bellybutton. Last night, Sori had really seemed to enjoy having her bellybutton touched, so Zeke decided to spend some time there. Before touching her bellybutton, Zeke delicately kissed circles around it for a while. Sori's breathing had already deepened a little, Zeke noticed. A few licks into Sori's bellybutton caused her to suck her stomach in, but Zeke, undeterred, kept licking. After a while Sori started squirming a little. Zeke stopped, afraid she was getting too excited. He didn't want Sori deciding it was time to end their encounter like she had last night, in a quick fuck. That would be just fine for later, but would mean Sori dropping off to sleep. Leaving Sori's bellybutton alone, Zeke lightly caressed her stomach and sides, watching for a reaction. Sori's breathing slowed, telling Zeke he was getting cold. Zeke moved her legs apart, allowing better access to Sori's pussy. If caressing arms and legs didn't work, what about her pussy lips? Zeke remembered Sori sucking her breath when he blew on her pussy last night. Running his fingers through Sori's pussy hair, Zeke moved to get a good view of her pussy. Once he was in position, Zeke lightly caressed the outsides of Sori's pussy lips, paying attention to her breathing. Zeke kept up the caresses for a while, but couldn't detect a change in Sori's breathing.Interesting, Sori seemed to have just a few hot spots. However, Zeke knew two of them: bellybutton and the inside of her pussy. Zeke slowly parted Sori's pussy lips. Sori's vagina was relaxed, not slowly contracting and leaking fluid like the night before. But that was about to change, decided Zeke. Taking a deep breath, Zeke softly blew over the insides of Sori's pussy, avoiding her vagina for now. Breath after breath, Zeke kept up his attentions until Sori was breathing heavier again, her vagina leaking and slowly contracting. Sori didn't seem to have a particular spot she liked, so maybe the entire pussy area was it. All the blowing was starting to leave Zeke a bit light-headed, so he switched to kissing and licking. Zeke slowly licked the undersides of Sori's pussy lips, and then started at the top of her pussy and licked down towards her vagina, but stopped just short of it. Sori's vaginal fluid had leaked down over her thighs. Zeke moistened his finger in the fluids and lightly touched Sori's anus, which immediately tightened. "No. Please," said Sori, still breathing heavily. Hmm. Did Sori mean she didn't enjoy having her anus touched as an individual, or was her preference biological? Enough exploring, Zeke decided. He was going to determine how much Sori would get worked up without having her vagina touched. Zeke massaged Sori's pussy lips with his fingers while licking up and the insides of her pussy, always avoiding her vagina. And this time Zeke did not stop to try something else, but continued his assault in a measured pace -- he was prepared to lick her until he dropped. After a while, Sori started to moan between her breaths. It was working! Zeke didn't change his pace a bit, listening excitedly to Sori's lengthening moans. Sori started to squirm, her vagina pulsing faster. Sori suddenly sat up and put her hands on Zeke's shoulders. "No. Please," said Sori in Standard, placing her hands gently on Zeke's shoulders. Sori slowly complied and allowed herself to be helped to a resting position on her back once more. She was still squirming as Zeke resumed his attentions to her pussy lips and inner pussy. Sori alternated between moaning and taking deep breaths, her squirming increased. The sounds were getting Zeke really turned on. Sori sat up again. "Now. Please. Urgent," Sori gasped, pushing hard on Zeke's shoulders. Zeke saw Sori's face and chest were deeply flushed, and her eyes didn't seem to be focusing very well. Zeke allowed Sori to force him to his back. Sori was on top of him in a flash, impaling herself on his erect cock. This time, Sori didn't waste time slowly lowering herself, inch-by-inch, on his cock -- she took the entire length at once and immediately began rocking her hips back and forth. She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself tightly. Sori's vagina was pulsating rapidly around Zeke's cock, and the sensation was even better than last night. Tight, warm, and wet. Zeke could feel Sori's fluids dripping down on his groin. Unable to help himself, Zeke started slowly thrusting his pelvis up and down. This caused Sori to moan louder and shiver, her flush deepening further. In seconds, Zeke felt the familiar fluttering of Sori's vagina. The sensation was fantastic, driving Zeke to the brink of orgasm. Zeke grabbed Sori's hips and began thrusting harder, lost in the exquisite sensations. Sori's orgasm seemed to go on forever, stimulating Zeke's cock until he could take no more. He came hard into Sori, groaning at his release. Sori's fluttering stopped soon after. Sori sighed and fell gently forward, resting awkwardly on Zeke's chest. Zeke moved her arms and head to a more comfortable position and pulled his deflating cock out of her. "Computer, covers, dark," said Zeke. The lights went out and the covers somehow pulled out from under Zeke without jostling him too much, and came to a rest over him and Sori. The lights went out, leaving just three small moons for illumination.Vish's people, the Shao, had expanded to 112 planets and several thousand gigantic artificial worlds. Their population numbered over 203 trillion, and they were one of the more advanced peoples in the galaxy. The ship they were on had been built by the Shao over two hundred years ago, and it still looked new. Vish showed them holograms of his artificial worlds, and they were very impressive. One was a double torus larger than Jupiter, housing almost one trillion individuals in luxury. Another looked to be a series of concentric rings containing enormous cities. Most Shao preferred the artificial worlds, since they were not a physical race. A comparatively smaller number of Shao lived on the planets, but they were the exception -- if you could call 250 billion individuals an exception. "So Vish," asked Zeke, "is there any truth to those stories about you guys and the anal probes?" "And what about those cattle mutilations?" asked David. "Some truth," acknowledged Vish. "You shouldn't do that," complained Susan, "it's just wrong." "Possibly," acknowledged Vish, "On the other hand, no Earthlings are harmed, sometimes minor medical problems are corrected. And we are conducting important research that could benefit countless species. Your system of food production has become intertwined to such a degree, that a bacteria or virus could quickly spread to a majority of livestock. Such conditions encourage a disease that could devastate your population. The same is true for many other developing worlds." "That still doesn't give you the right to snatch people up for your experiments," said Susan. "In any event," said Vish, "I am not involved with those projects, and with more human participation in our cooperative defense, such research is no longer looked upon favorably." Another mystery solved, thought Zeke. A bit disconcerting though, humans had been looked upon as little more than experimental animals, at least until enough of them joined the alien's organization. How was the Shao's experimentation any different from those "other" aliens they would be defending Earth against? Zeke resolved to find out about this, but he wouldn't be asking the Shao on this ship. Before it got too late, the group decided to get some sleep for the upcoming day. Starting their training would be exciting, and Zeke could hardly wait. Zeke went back to his quarters and used the waterless shower, intent on paying Sori one last visit. When Zeke entered Sori's quarters, the lights were already off. Two simulated moons overhead provided enough light for Zeke to see Sori under the covers in her bed. Hopefully, Zeke thought as he sat on the bed, she wasn't asleep yet. "Hi Sori," said Zeke, "are you asleep yet?" Being able to talk with Sori was a dream come true, and Zeke resolved to take advantage of it. "No," said Sori. "Computer," said Zeke, "increase light level five times." The room brightened, not too bright, but enough to see reasonably well. Zeke pulled the covers off of Sori and looked her over. She was, as expected, naked. Zeke got undressed himself, and lay down on his side, near Sori. Zeke moved his head over Sori, and lightly blew into her nostril slits. He gently traced around her bellybutton with his hand. "Sori," said Zeke between breaths, "I'm going to miss you after tonight." "Do not miss me," said Sori, "remember our times together, anticipate our times in the future, and enjoy our time in the present." "Zeke," said Sori, "in our prior encounters, you have devoted yourself to my pleasure. This time, lay back and allow me to devote myself to your pleasure." "Sounds like fun," smiled Zeke, making himself comfortable on his back. Sori knelt beside Zeke and softly blew into his nostrils. It tickled, but was kind of nice in a way, even if it wasn't turning Zeke on. Really, Zeke considered, everything he had done with Sori probably didn't turn her on either -- like kissing on the lips. Sori's mouth had been dry, and she hadn't seemed to like it. Or when he touched her anus, she had actually said "no." And touching her sides or neck didn't seem to do much for her either. Once Zeke left the ship tomorrow, and assuming he eventually found another cute alien to have fun with, he was going to remember to watch carefully for what turn-ons his partner had. Perhaps the computer would have more information. Sori moved down and started blowing softly on Zeke's bellybutton. It tickled a little. However, Zeke remembered, Sori definitely did have her turn-ons. Her bellybutton was one of them, she also liked her nostrils blown into, and she liked the inside of her pussy rubbed and licked. Touching the inside of her vagina seemed to set her off, Sori had jumped Zeke as soon as he had touched her there. The second night they were together, Zeke had kept away from Sori's vagina, but Sori still seemed extremely aroused with just the pussy licking. Zeke couldn't read her facial expressions very well, she seemed not to have them. Except... Her flushed face and unfocused eyes as she came, that was an expression Zeke hadn't had any trouble reading. And that was one expression Zeke wanted to see again. A touch on Zeke's penis returned his attention to the present. Sori had stopped blowing on his bellybutton, and was holding his flaccid member. As she had on their first night together, Sori gently stroked Zeke's cock. Blowing on Zeke's bellybutton may not have done much for him, but Sori's hands worked their magic on his cock. Before long, Zeke was breathing heavy and groaning, his cock tingling and ready to explode. Sori kept him on edge for what seemed like forever. Finally, Zeke felt the pressure inside him build in a way that could no longer be denied. He was seconds away from coming. Zeke started thrusting his hips, wanting more. Sori increased her attentions, and Zeke's entire body stiffened as he came, a few spurts landing on Sori's chest. "Computer," said Sori, "clean." Zeke felt the tingling, just like in the waterless shower, and suddenly Sori's chest was spotless. Looking down, Zeke noticed his cock and Sori's hands were completely clean also. Neat trick. "Sori," sighed Zeke, "that was awesome." "I am pleased you enjoyed it," said Sori, lying down beside Zeke. Another oddity about Standard was its lack of a word for "thank you." Zeke was starting to get a feel for how something as simple as a missing "thank you" could impact normal conversation. The words "thank you," Zeke considered, didn't convey much meaning, they were just a polite noise. But take away those words, and the speaker had to use other, more personal, more accurate words. Interesting, Zeke mused, reaching out to gently stroke around Sori's bellybutton. Standard had no concept of marriage, no words for "thank you," and no curse words. Well, at least Zeke hadn't learned any curse words. "I was wondering," said Zeke, "have we been taught all the words and concepts of Standard?" "Yes," said Sori, "you know all the words." "Are you familiar with languages where some words are especially insulting?" asked Zeke. "Yes," sighed Sori, "Standard is an artificially created language, unpleasant words were not included." Zeke moved down, between Sori's legs, and started licking the edges of her pussy lips. Sori moved her legs further apart. "Why did they leave out the unpleasant words," Zeke asked, licking underneath Sori's pussy lips. "The intention," said Sori, starting to squirm, "was to encourage the expression of actual issues." Sori panted, "Meaningful dialog, instead of generic insults." The aliens seemed to have thought of everything, Zeke decided, giving Sori's pussy a thorough licking while his hand teased her bellybutton. Sori was now holding her breath for a time, releasing it in gasps, then holding it again. "Zeke," gasped Sori, "are you recovered enough for intercourse?" "Not just yet," Zeke grinned, continuing to lick every inch of Sori's pussy. Sori's vagina was pulsing, dripping a steady stream of juice. Zeke ran his tongue around Sori's vagina, but was careful to avoid touching the inside of her vagina. Sori's squirming made it increasingly difficult to avoid her vagina, but Zeke persevered. "Are you recovered now?" gasped Sori again. "Not yet, but shortly," Zeke replied. Teasing Sori was so much fun. Zeke continued until his tongue started to get tired. Sori's breath was coming in deep shuddering gasps, her hips rocking gently back and forth. "Now," gasped Sori, "Please be ready now." Zeke carefully positioned his body over Sori and entered her, making sure not to put his weight on her. Sori's vagina was so wet that Zeke's cock slid in with no trouble whatsoever. Zeke started fucking in a steady rhythm, while Sori's vagina fluttered constantly around his cock. Sori's eyes stared, unfocused, past Zeke; her face was completely flushed, and Sori's hips moved frantically as she tightly hugged Zeke with her arms and legs. Zeke realized she must be having her orgasm already. Soon Sori's vagina stopped fluttering and she released Zeke, slumping to rest on the bed. Zeke, already having come once, knew it would be a while before he came again. Zeke continued his slow rhythm, luxuriating in Sori's tight vagina. After a while, Sori's vagina started slowly contracting again. By the time Zeke neared his own release, Sori's vagina had started a slow, gentle fluttering. The feeling against Zeke's cock was different from the faster contractions Sori was having earlier. On the verge of exploding, Zeke groaned, trying to hold back. Suddenly Sori's vagina stopped its fluttering. Even with the decrease in sensation, Zeke was too close. Zeke's body went rigid as he came. Slowly Zeke pulled out of Sori, and lay down beside her. Sori's eyes were already closed. "Computer," said Zeke, "lights out." When Zeke awoke the next morning, Sori was staring into his eyes."Twice," said Sori, "you are very skilled to make me climax twice. I will remember our encounter very fondly." "I'm already looking forward to meeting up with you again," said Zeke, blowing softly on Sori's nostril slits. The two stayed like that for a while before getting ready for the day and heading to breakfast. An hour after breakfast, the spaceship arrived at the base. The group watched from the sitting room; Zeke and Sori sat together and talked, while Walter ignored them. The base didn't look like much. Just a long, featureless, white cylinder floating by itself in space. Like in the hologram room, no windows, seams, or other markings showed. And without any marks or reference points, determining the actual scale of the base was impossible. As the ship maneuvered around to the end of the base, a dark circle became visible in the center of the cylinder's hub. Only when the ship flew into this dark circle and docked in an enormous hangar along with countless other ships did the true size of the base become apparent. "It's enormous!" said Susan. "Why so big?" asked Mark. "The base is divided into a multitude of different environments, each with a unique atmosphere, climate, and gravity," said Sori. "Centrifugal force simulates the gravity, and the different levels provide the necessary gravity variations." "With all the different habitats, you must be very careful where you go," continued Sori. "Entering the wrong habitat could prove fatal." The computer would warn them against inadvertently entering a hostile habitat, but they needed to know the environment encoding scheme if they were to live aboard a multi-environment station. Four numbers represented an environmental profile which described the impact of all environmental factors on an individual. Given the number of combinations of environmental factors such as gravity, temperature, pressure, and atmospheric components, the details of the profile were complex. However, the mapping was done in such a way that it was easy to quickly determine an individual's tolerance of a particular environmental profile. "The human environmental profile is 91-8-136-57," said Sori. "And this ship is currently set to 88-12-130-66. My profile is 87-17-128-72. Since our numbers are not too far off, we are both comfortable. Do not enter an area where any of the numbers differ from your profile by more than 30, it could be dangerous." "What about eating?" asked Zeke. "Is there a profile for that too?" "We have a similar method for that," said Sori. "Food has a planetary origin and a six-number profile, yours is 12-32-393-102-1-52. Deviations of any number by less than sixty are edible. Depending on individual tolerances, you might deviate by as much as two hundred before it becomes poisonous." "The planetary origin," interjected Mvek, "is a better method. Keep to food from Earth and you will be safe." "Will there be meat on the base?" asked Walter. "I'm getting tired of this vegetarian diet." "It's really vegan," interjected Dan. "No animal products at all. I miss them already." "Yes," said Sori, looking at Mvek. "your normal diet is available. Although it is not polite to mention such things in public." "Oh, sorry Mvek," said Dan. "I am used to worse practices as a recruiter," said Mvek, "but new recruits on the base are much more easily offended by talk of eating animals." "Worse?" asked Walter. "Well, as long as no one starts eating me, it can't be much worse." Zeke considered Walter's comment and decided to see what the computer had on alien expressions and moods. "Before I lose interest in food for the remainder of the day," said Sori, "we have arrived and docked. We will help you pack your belongings and get you started with your training at the base." Packing went quickly for Zeke. He didn't have much except for the few things salvaged from the car and the clothes Mvek had given him. It all went into a single hovering anti-gravity container. Sori explained the container would go into storage for now and later find its way to Zeke's new quarters on its own, once Zeke had selected a quarters. "You mean our quarters are not already assigned?" asked Zeke. "The location of your quarters will depend on the skill you choose to train in," explained Sori. "Quarters are located in proximity to training. And, depending on the training selected, some quarters are specially designed to enhance training." "I'm going to miss you," said Zeke, giving Sori a hug. "Do not miss me," reminded Sori. "We will see each other again, and others on the base will share your time." Some of the others took longer to pack, but before too long everyone was assembled and Mvek led them into the base. Sori and the Greys remained aboard the ship. The base had an entirely different look than Mvek's ship. The docking port joined smoothly with a large circular chamber, about forty feet in diameter. The walls were a bright white and merged seamlessly into the floor and ceiling. Illumination spread evenly throughout the room, with no apparent source. The only items not white were Mvek's ship and a fifteen-foot diameter blue circle in the center of the room. Mvek led them to the blue circle, which Zeke guessed was related to the disk used to board Mvek's ship. Apparently the others thought the same and were soon standing within the circle. Mvek gestured and a railing appeared. "Computer," said Mvek, "transport us to indoctrination." The platform smoothly rose towards the ceiling, which opened into a fifty-foot diameter tube with the same bright white walls. Strange, thought Zeke, the opening to the tube had not been visible from the ground. Filing this detail away for the future, Zeke continued to look around. One side of the tube had a definite end, but the other stretched into the distance, seemingly forever. The platform moved rapidly towards the end they couldn't see. Surprisingly, there was very little wind or noise. For a moment, Zeke was disoriented, but then realized the tube must run the length of the cylinder that was the base. A few other platforms were zooming through the tube, but passed by too quickly for Zeke to see the occupants. Zeke did see other tubes branching off from this one at regular intervals, possibly this was the main way of getting around on the enormous base. Within a few minutes, they turned into another tube and came to a halt in a white room like the docking port, but with three blue platforms on the floor and several open archways on the walls. Another blue platform came to a rest beside them, the single occupant was six feet tall, with five furry blue legs, three purple tentacles at the top of a stalk, and no visible head. It crawled off the platform and left through the archway on the left. "Computer," said Mvek, "blue guide to indoctrination." A glowing blue ball appeared before them, then moved to one of the archways and hovered. Mvek motioned for them to follow. They went down a short hall; the blue ball stopped at the only open archway. The group entered a large room with alien furniture designed to accommodate a variety of species. The ball disappeared, this room was their destination. It was unmistakably a waiting room. Alien, artistic, and white, but a waiting room nonetheless. "We will wait here," said Mvek. "Shortly an indoctrination expert will discuss areas of training with each of you." Zeke sat back and got comfortable. Apparently the aliens hadn't found a solution for waiting, and this would probably take a while. Zeke was a bit too excited to take a nap, so he imagined what piloting a starship would be like. After a few minutes, Susan started pacing back and forth nervously. "What's taking so long?" she said, annoyed. "They'll probably be here soon," said Zeke. "So, what are you going to train in?" "I want to do something that involves exploring the galaxy," said Susan. "You know, finding new worlds, new cultures. That sort of thing. What about you?" "I want to pilot a starship, and Walter wants to be captain of a starship." "Hey, that could work out," said Susan. "Maybe we'll be on the same ship." Zeke was about to reply when another alien entered. The alien reminded Zeke of a jellyfish, but with the tentacles coming from all over the body. It was circular, three feet in diameter, and transparent. They could see its internal organs and what was likely its brain at the top. Definitely not an air breather, it floated in a transparent hovering container just big enough to keep it submerged. "Good afternoon, I am Maeoglaiere. I will discuss the numerous specialties available to you and find one best suited to your abilities and interests. Before we begin, please introduce yourselves and tell me if you are already considering a particular specialty." "I'm Susan Gladshaw, and I want to explore the galaxy, see new planets and discover new peoples." "I'm Dan, and I'm not sure what I want to do yet. But I'm happy to be here." "Mike Donaldson, undecided." "Walter Westerfield, I want to be captain of a starship." "I'm Zeke, and I'm interested in piloting a starship." "Excellent," said Maeoglaiere. "Walter and Zeke, how certain are your choices?" "A hundred percent," said Zeke. "It just feels right." "Well, 99.999 percent for me," said Walter. "In that case," said Maeoglaiere, "you two may wish to proceed to your training sections now rather than listen to my lecture on the different specialties. It is primarily for the undecided, although you are welcome to listen if you like." "Hey!" said Susan. "I'm decided about being an explorer." "There are different specialties covered by your interest," said Maeoglaiere, "including pilot, captain, engineer, diplomat, and many others. In a moment, I will start the lecture with these.""Computer," said Maeoglaiere, "red guide for Earthling pilot training, blue guide for Earthling leadership training." Two globes, red and blue, appeared. Both moved to hover over the archway leading back to the entry hall. "Maeoglaiere," said Zeke, "may I be assigned to instructor Yzran for pilot training?" "You may choose any instructor you wish," said Maeoglaiere. "Many Earthlings are more comfortable with an Earthling instructor, and we try to accommodate that preference; however, the final choice is always left to the individual. Are you certain of your choice?" "Yes," said Zeke. "Computer," said Maeoglaiere, "cancel red guide. Red guide to pilot instructor Yzran." The red globe vanished and a new one appeared, again moving to hover by the archway. "Bye Maeoglaiere," said Zeke, "Bye Mvek. I'll see the rest of you later." Zeke walked towards the red globe, and Walter followed. The globes led back down the hall to the room with the platforms. Here, the globes separated, each hovering over a different platform. "I guess this is where we split up," said Zeke. "I guess," said Walter. "Computer, green guide for finding Zeke." A green globe appeared, moved over Zeke for a moment, and disappeared. "Pretty sharp," said Zeke, stepping on his platform. "We'll have to meet up after we get settled in." "OK," said Walter, "bye." Walter gestured, and his platform rail raised; the platform lifted up and out of sight. Zeke gestured, and his platform did the same, zooming down the tube towards its destination; wherever that was, thought Zeke. CHAPTER 4 The platform arrived in a room just like the one Zeke had departed. It had marked circles for three platforms, and Zeke's platform settled into one of them. The railing dropped away, and the red globe moved to hover near one of the archways. Zeke followed. Beyond the archway, Zeke could see what looked like a well-landscaped park. Brightly and evenly lit from an unseen source, the ceiling was a featureless white, and it was impossible to tell just how high the ceiling was. Zeke didn't have to use his imagination much to get the feeling of being outside under a white sky. The park was about 300 feet across and continued far into the distance on either side, the floor gradually rising and disappearing upwards, following the curvature of the mighty cylinder that was the base. Smooth, clean white walkways meandered around a multitude of plants with green, blue, red, yellow, and even brown leaves. The brown and yellow leaves looked healthy, not dried up or wilted, so that must be their normal color. Flowers and streaming tendrils displayed a staggering number of shapes and colors. Plants from perhaps hundreds of worlds grew in this park. Further on, the walkways merged into larger open areas with platforms three feet in diameter, a foot off the floor, arranged in small groups. And the park was not empty of aliens either. Zeke didn't spot any humans, but he saw some of the Shao, and a few of the furry blue-legged aliens. One alien looked birdlike, with backwards knees and a thin neck supporting an elongated head. A single eye in the front below three bumps, a small mouth, and speckled orange and green skin made this alien stand out from the crowd. Two other aliens also caught Zeke's attention. One was like a centipede standing on its end. It was composed of a dozen flat body segments, each with about a dozen short stubby appendages distributed evenly around the circumference. The lower appendages were used as legs, the upper appendages probably functioned as arms. No separate head, but Zeke thought he saw eyes on each of the segments. The other alien had a small round body and three slender legs ending in a double flipper arrangement. Its body was about a foot tall and covered in bright green fur, except for three thin, pink tentacles rising about six feet into the air. Each tentacle had an eye on its tip. It looked unwieldy, but the alien moved gracefully down the path. Engrossed in his surroundings, Zeke forgot about the red globe. Luckily, the globe did not forget about Zeke, and came back to circle his head before floating away to his left, near the wall of the park where Zeke had entered. Along the park walls, the smaller walkways joined a thirty-foot-wide swath of clear white floor that ran continuously as far as Zeke could see. The ceiling merged smoothly into a clean, white wall with several archways in it. A small group of archways here, and more groups of archways further down the wall of the park were the only features of the wall. Zeke could see a few groups of archways on the far wall of the park as well. The red globe hovered over an archway near the one Zeke had entered the park through. Zeke could identify that archway since it was the only one open, the rest of the archways had closed doors of various colors. The globe was hovering near a yellow door. Zeke walked over to the yellow door. Once Zeke got within three feet of the door, it vanished. It didn't open or slide out of the way, it simply disappeared. One second it was there, the next second it was gone; no sound, no glittery flashes, just gone. Slightly more advanced than Mvek's ship, Zeke thought. Zeke followed the red globe into the room, a fifty-foot diameter circle with a domed ceiling. Zeke was the only one in the room. Walls and floor were a spotless white, the only color was a light blue padded couch that was built into the wall and ran halfway around the perimeter of the room. The couch was interrupted in only two places, the door Zeke had used to enter, and another door ninety degrees to the left. The red globe disappeared, and Zeke headed for the other door, it too disappeared when Zeke got within three feet. Beyond the door, a five-foot-wide hallway with a dozen open archways leading to small rooms, but no other exit. Inside each room, one of the familiar floor toilets awaited. As Zeke entered one, the archway filled in with a door, which also obligingly disappeared as Zeke exited. Zeke went back to the couch room and considered. Perhaps he was early or late. He could always ask one of the aliens in the park. Or he could ask the computer. If the doors were more advanced than those on Mvek's ship, perhaps the computer would be also. Heck, if the computer were anything like the sci-fi Walter liked, Zeke could probably get all the information he needed. "Computer, am I in the right place for pilot training?" "Yes," replied a neutral voice. The voice wasn't mechanical, or even identifiable as male or female. It seemed to originate from behind Zeke's right ear. Zeke turned but saw nothing. "Where is everyone?" Silence. Oh, right. The computer had to be addressed specifically each time, like on Mvek's ship. "Computer, where is everyone?" "Statement not understood," replied the computer. "Computer, what times are pilot training sessions in this area?" "Pilot training is scheduled in three sessions per day, on active days. Two in the afternoon and twenty-three in the morning, each are five-hour sessions." Zeke knew the alien's hours were just a little longer than Earth hours, but twenty-three in the morning? Maybe a bit of information on the calendar was in order. The language lessons certainly hadn't covered twenty-three in the morning. "Computer, summarize the calendar and divisions of the day." "In this habitat," began the computer, "the calendar is divided into weeks of six days each. The first three days are resting days, the last three days are active days. A day is divided into four parts: afternoon, evening, night, and morning. Each part of the day is seven hours long, for a total of twenty-eight hours per day. The day begins in the afternoon, from 0 to 6 hours. Evening is from 7 to 13 hours. Night is from 14 to 20 hours. Morning is from 21 to 27 hours." The day started at noon? Training was before noon in the morning, and in the afternoon, leaving the evening free and the night for sleeping. Oh, so the hours just started at noon. Different, but not so great a leap. "Computer, what day and time is it now?" "Day two," said the computer, "hour five." "Computer, which days does training take place?" "Days three through five," said the computer. So this was the weekend, no classes today. And a three-day weekend at that. Definitely better than the old five and two system Zeke was familiar with. Well, Zeke understood why no one was here, but now what? Perhaps he could hang out with Walter for the rest of the day. Maybe the computer could place a call. "Computer, let me talk with Walter. He came in with me on Mvek's ship." "Connected," said the computer after a few seconds. "Zeke?" came Walter's voice. "Hey Walter, it's the weekend. No classes today, want to get together and check out the base?" "Weekend?" Walter sounded puzzled. "Oh, we're in different habitat rings. I guess the habitats have different schedules. Over here, my first leadership training class is starting in a few minutes. I've got to run." "That's cool," replied Zeke, "I'll catch you later. Computer, end connection." "Disconnected," said the computer. "Computer, does pilot training include practicing on a simulator?" "Yes," said the computer. "Computer, where are the nearest simulators?" "Flight training simulators are located in this room," said the computer. In this room? Zeke sat on the nearest section of the couch. All he saw was the couch, no video screen, no controls. Maybe the computer could get it going. "Computer, begin flight simulation." A section of the floor opened, and a set of controls extended towards Zeke. Two joysticks on free-floating arms and a small touch panel, also on a free-floating arm, settled in front of Zeke. The joysticks felt solid in his hands, each had four buttons in easy reach of Zeke's fingers.Zeke found he could easily position the floating arms to get the joysticks and panel in a comfortable position. Touch buttons on the panel locked the free-floating arms in position. The touch buttons controlled the ship's speed, energy distribution, shielding, and docking mechanisms. A section was labeled "preset maneuvers," whatever that meant. Zeke also noticed a button to start and stop the simulation. He pressed it. A starfield appeared before Zeke, and a large gas giant with dozens of moons dominated the foreground. The hologram was solid, a square about three feet across, and the planets looked real. Zeke moved the left joystick slightly, and the view shifted. The right joystick started him careening towards a moon. After a few close calls, Zeke quickly got the hang of the controls. The left stick set a direction, but did not actually move the virtual ship. The right stick moved the ship in respect to the direction. Speed was controlled by tilting the joystick further, and larger increments of speed were possible with buttons on the joystick or touch panel. Moving the joystick to the side started the ship tilting in that direction. The joysticks were responsive to Zeke's every move, and the ship handled beautifully. Before long, Zeke had explored the gas giant's moon system, diving down and skimming the surfaces of the moons, mere inches from the surface. One of the larger moons had a ring system, and Zeke tried dodging the asteroids, but they were far apart and not much of a challenge. "Computer, move the asteroids closer together, about twenty ship lengths apart. And have them move in random directions." Now this was more exciting! Zeke spent some time dodging the asteroids, the random motion making it a challenge. Zeke brought up some additional views showing object proximity and predicted direction to avoid getting hit from behind. After a while, Zeke was moving at a good clip through the asteroid belt, dodging rocks instinctively; he just had to watch the screens and focus. Finally tiring of the asteroids, Zeke headed out to explore the inner planetary system. At top speed, he was quickly there. The three inner planets were of equal size, about five times the diameter of Earth according to the readout. All of them were desolate and lifeless. They were still interesting, and the images were top quality, so Zeke took a leisurely tour of the second planet. It had jagged geological formations, which made for some interesting skimming, but nothing difficult. Zeke's mind had time to wander. "Computer, what time is it?" "Eight in the evening," said the computer. Eight. That was early evening; night and bedtime wouldn't come until fourteen in the evening. But there was dinner to see about, and Zeke still needed to find his quarters. "Computer, where are my quarters?" "Quarters are not currently assigned," said the computer. "Computer, how do I get assigned quarters?" "You request quarters, and are assigned the nearest matching your request," said the computer. "Computer, assign me the nearest quarters to this location, and give me a guide globe to take me there." "Done," said the computer. A blue globe appeared in front of Zeke, then moved to hover above the entry door. Zeke got up and walked towards the door, which disappeared as he neared; the flightpad and joysticks automatically retracted into the floor. Back in the park, Zeke followed the globe as it floated along the wall. In less than a minute, Zeke saw a white archway with a label, Etoona. The white archway blended in with the wall and was easy to miss from a distance, the labels were only visible once Zeke got close to the doors. Near the doors, the labels were dark black standard letters; more than ten feet away, the lettering faded, appearing white. Looking closely at the walls, Zeke noticed other white archways evenly spaced about thirty feet apart. The next archway was labeled Thaymelv. These were most likely quarters, Zeke concluded. Before too long, the globe hovered above a white archway, labeled Zeke. Nice, thought Zeke; this wasn't too far from the training room. The door vanished as Zeke got close, and the inside was a rectangular room about thirty feet wide, forty feet deep, and twenty feet high. The corners were rounded, and Zeke couldn't see a single sharp edge in the room. As Zeke entered, the door silently reappeared. At the center of the far back wall, a bathtub twice as large as the one aboard Mvek's ship dominated. To the left, Zeke found a dry shower and a six-foot-wide shelf. Further left, in the corner, were three floor toilets. To the right of the tub, built-in white cabinets ran all the way to the other corner. In the front corner of the room, a twelve-foot circular depression contained a bed. The soft mattress was even with the floor, and padding around the sides would prevent sleepers from bumping heads against the floor. A pile of pillows sat on the bed nearest the corner of the room. Pillows, mattress, and padding were all the same shade of crisp, clean, white. The rest of the room was empty, with no furniture, not even a chair. Seeing the toilets prompted Zeke's bladder. As Zeke relieved himself, he felt odd urinating in such a large room. For some reason, the aliens built this room without an enclosure around the toilets or bath areas. Well, it was a single-occupancy room. Maybe the aliens weren't embarrassed about bodily functions like Earthlings. Zeke remembered the separate toilet and bathing rooms in Mvek's ship, and suddenly realized the layout might be for the comfort of the Earthlings. The Earthlings liked walls for privacy, the aliens liked openness for convenience. After finishing with the toilets, Zeke examined the shelf. The shelf was about waist high, and the edges curved up to hold water. It was really a sink. The lack of faucets had misled Zeke, but as soon as Zeke moved his hand over the sink, water arched into the basin from several sources on the wall. The water stopped when Zeke withdrew his hand. Zeke couldn't find the source of the water; the wall was smooth and felt solid where the water streams had originated. Weird. A noise to Zeke's right drew his attention. Near the cabinets, a small robot floated beside the box Zeke had stored his belongings in. The robot was a white, foot-tall cylinder half a foot in diameter with three slender arms. It was storing his possessions neatly in the cabinets. Soon the robot finished and disappeared into an opening in the ceiling, which closed seamlessly. "Computer, can I get some furniture? Will it cost me any credits?" "Normal furniture is provided at your request," said the computer, "specialty items require credits." Zeke found normal furniture covered a lot. He decided on a large green couch covered in the softest material available, two small oval tables for the sides of the couch, and a kitchen table and chairs. The furniture arrived within a few minutes. It dropped in from the ceiling with the help of some larger robots like the first one. With the help of the computer, Zeke had the robots arrange the furniture until he was satisfied. The couch ended up in the center of the wall near the bed, the kitchen table by the cabinets. "Computer, what time is it now, and what are the mealtimes?" "The time is eight hours, thirty-two minutes," said the computer. "Normal mealtimes are 0 to 2 in the afternoon, 8 to 10 in the evening, and 20 to 22 in the morning. Food is also available upon request at all times." Well, at least he wasn't late to dinner, Zeke thought. Perhaps he could get the computer to cough up a video game. Maybe later, Zeke decided; right now, dinner seemed a good idea. Zeke left his quarters, the door reappearing behind him. Now where was dinner? "Computer, blue globe to dinner." A blue globe appeared and moved to hover over the door. Zeke followed it outside. The globe went back towards the training room, stopping to hover over a green door, just two doors away from the training room. Obviously the green door was the dining room. A few aliens were in the area, including the one with multiple body segments that looked like a centipede. "Computer," said Zeke, deciding not to enter the dining room yet, "dismiss guide." The centipede alien was interesting; Zeke wanted a closer look. But he didn't want to be rude: "Hey, you're weird looking, tell me about yourself." The alien was making slow, but reasonable, progress on his stubby lower limbs, going about half as fast as Zeke normally walked. In fact, the alien was following a red globe and coming closer to Zeke. The red globe stopped over the yellow door. Probably the alien had just arrived and was checking out the training room. The alien was probably either an instructor, or more likely a trainee. No point in letting the alien wonder where everyone was, Zeke decided, heading towards the centipede. "Hi, I'm Zeke, one of Yzran's new trainees. Are you a trainee too?" The centipede's twelve body sections were about two feet in diameter, each six inches high; the tan-colored alien stood four feet tall. On closer inspection, the dozen appendages on each section were all the same -- short, thick limbs ending in three opposing, evenly spaced, stubby fingers that served as feet or hands. Standing vertically, only the appendages on the bottom segment worked as feet. The rest hung, relaxed, on the body. "I am Etoona, also a trainee. I am surprised to find an Earthland in this section. Most Earthlands are uncomfortable around other species." Etoona spoke with a low, guttural voice that reminded Zeke of a frog croaking. Etoona. The name sounded familiar. Ah, it had been on the door of the first quarters Zeke had passed. Etoona had come prepared and secured his quarters sooner than Zeke. "I think I see what you mean," said Zeke, "when I asked specifically for Yzran, they modified my globe's destination. Otherwise I'd probably be in a habitat with mostly...Earthlands, and not the trainee of the best instructor available. "A disadvantage of those species newly joined the Hirthal," said Etoona, continuing towards the yellow door. "The social instincts limit them to interaction with species of a similar appearance, unless overcome by a period of adjustment." "Social instincts?" asked Zeke. "One of the natural behaviors," said Etoona, "such as tending to walk towards water, or away from darkness. Some social instincts useful in the evolution of a species can be annoying once intelligence evolves." "Computer, red guide to eating room," said Etoona. "It's the green door over there," said Zeke, walking slowly beside Etoona. The red globe hovered over the green door and disappeared as Zeke and Etoona entered. This room was a circle about twice the size of the training room. Like the training room, white was the predominant color. A large, low, circular counter enclosed what had to be an open kitchen. Small, foot-high platforms were evenly spaced around the counter, most likely seating, but it looked uncomfortable. No one else was in the room except for a single Shao behind the counter. This dining room wasn't set up for a buffet like on Mvek's ship; it was pretty obvious to Zeke they should pick a spot and be seated. If Zeke's guess was right, the Shao would come over and take their order or something like that. Cool, not many people could say they had been waited on by an alien. "At least you have overcome most of your instinctive limitations," said Etoona. "Are you still uncomfortable around other species?" "No," said Zeke, "I guess I'm so overwhelmed with finding out other intelligent species even exist, that I didn't think of being uncomfortable." Etoona gestured at a seating platform and it sank into the floor. Moving over the spot where the platform had been, Etoona gestured again and the platform rose up. Neat, thought Zeke. Zeke gestured at his own platform and it rose slightly, a narrow section at the back continued to rise at a slight angle, forming the back of a seat. Really neat, thought Zeke, sitting in the newly formed chair. "Hello Etoona," said the Shao, noticing the pair and walking over to them. "I am Otheshiil, nutritionist. Will you accept my suggestion for tonight?" "None of that," said Etoona, "splekk, prepared old style, and nothing extra." "As you prefer," said Otheshiil, "Computer, transfer one siplekkol here, restrained, table two." "Hello Zeke," said Otheshiil, "as this is new to you, I will explain. My purpose is to provide optimal nourishment to each trainee; I have studied in detail your species' requirements and I monitor your current condition. Correct nourishment will allow you to experience the best performance from your body and mind. However, the final decision as to your diet is your own. Will you accept my suggestion for tonight?" Proper nutrition, Zeke mused. Back at the university, Zeke's diet hadn't been all that great; certainly he hadn't bothered with nutrition. But then, no one had offered him "optimal nourishment" tailored to his specific needs. If he accepted Otheshiil's advice, Zeke would probably get something like health food, bland and tasteless. But again, what could it hurt to try it? If it tasted too bad he could always ask Otheshiil for a burger and fries. "That sounds... interesting," said Zeke, "give me whatever you think is best." A motion overhead caught Zeke's eye. One of the robots was lowering a small creature, about the size of a cat, to Otheshiil's preparation table. The creature was green with blue stripes and had six legs. It was still, but Zeke could see it breathing. Zeke decided he would avoid watching Otheshiil prepare the splekk. "Excellent," said Otheshiil, "your meals will be completed shortly." "You will regret your choice," said Etoona, "nutritional food does not mean enjoyable food. Otheshiil would have me eating leaves if he could." Otheshiil returned shortly with a large glass of clear liquid and a small plate for Zeke. It looked like a salad, tasted like a salad too. Not as good as a burger, but it wasn't that bad either. Think optimal performance, Zeke told himself. "The food's not so bad," said Zeke, taking a drink. As he had suspected, it was water. "Besides, I want to be at top performance for my training." "How much experience do you have," asked Etoona. "None flying," admitted Zeke, "but I'm pretty good with simulations." Standard didn't have a word for video games, so that was as close as Zeke could come to explaining. Otheshiil arrived with five plates, most of which went to Etoona. The one plate Zeke got had several wafers on it. Etoona's food actually looked pretty good, not like in the movies where the aliens ate nasty squirming worms. Etoona had several steaks, each skewered on an individual stick, and also some long orange bars. "What type of simulations?" asked Etoona, "You just learned about the Hirthal." "Well," said Zeke, munching on a wafer, "lots of recreational simulations where I control some kind of object." Zeke noticed Etoona was holding multiple steaks on sticks in appendages belonging to various body segments. Each of the segments had a mouth, and each mouth was chewing the food. With all those mouths, Etoona ate fast. "Better than nothing," said Etoona, taking his last bite. "I'm going to organize my quarters, bye for now." Etoona gestured his platform down and headed out the door. Having only one mouth, Zeke took a little longer to finish his dinner. "Was dinner satisfactory?" asked Otheshiil. "Not what I'm used to," said Zeke, "but not bad." After talking with Otheshiil for a bit, Zeke headed back out to the park. With plenty of time before the night period, Zeke decided to look around. He started walking down one of the smaller paths; unlike the wider paths, this path was bare earth. In no time, the training plaza was out of sight and Zeke was alone, in the middle of the nicely kept park. The plants were tall and thick enough to limit Zeke's visibility to the immediate area. Soon Zeke came upon a small open space with two benches positioned in front of a natural-looking, three-foot-high waterfall. The gurgling of the water masked sounds coming from other areas of the park, giving Zeke a feeling of solitude. The benches were low white rectangles with no backs, like in the dining room. Did they adjust in the same way? Zeke made the gesture at the bench; the rectangle rose six inches while a one-inch-thick portion of the seat rose almost vertically, forming a back. Zeke sat on the newly formed bench, watching the waterfall, reflecting on the last week, and considering his future. Before all of this, Zeke had not believed aliens existed. Now he was going to be learning how to pilot a ship with them. Taking up the challenge of becoming a pilot was going to be fun, and Zeke could hardly wait until the training started in the morning. Back at the university, Zeke had been an average student, just doing the minimum to get passing grades. But now things were different. Zeke resolved to give the training his maximum effort; he was not going to be an average pilot, but the best pilot he could possibly be. How long did it take to learn piloting, anyway? "Computer, how long does pilot training last?" "Time spent training varies, average duration is 180 days," said the computer. Suggesting that if Zeke worked hard, he could complete training sooner. After the three hours on the simulators today, Zeke knew he could fly the ship in the simulation with more practice. But there was always more to it than that. Probably the aliens would have procedures to be memorized and who knows what else. Kind of like the introduction to music course Zeke had taken his freshman year. It had sounded like an easy course, just listen to some music. No problem, right? Well, they had listened to music. They had also had to memorize music's history -- that had been a lot of work. Hopefully, the pilot training wouldn't be so boring. And there was something else Zeke really liked about the Hirthal: the attention to individuals. The training base was huge, but Zeke had come on board and been given personal attention. Zeke's preference for being a pilot was listened to and immediately acted upon. The cook, or nutritional specialist, had recognized Zeke on sight, and had taken the time to design a diet just for him. And no one had requested Zeke to fill out any paperwork. The Hirthal really had their act together. Zeke saw a movement out of the corner of his left eye, a yellow globe moved to hover over the waterfall; Zeke realized that could only mean someone was coming. Turning around, Zeke saw an alien walking down the narrow path towards him. This particular alien was a species Zeke had not seen before. Obviously female, she stood over six feet tall. She wore the standard white pants, but the tank top left her narrow midriff bare. Completely hairless, her skin was an unblemished light pink over most of her body, except for a patch of pure white skin covering her belly. The white skin extended down under the pants and ended in a semi-circle above her very human-like breasts. Her face was vaguely human, oval-shaped with a small, rounded chin. Her eyes were large, featuring black pupils surrounded by dark red irises. An unusually wide mouth with thin lips, a flat rounded nose, and lack of ears gave her a distinct look. Not pretty in the human sense, but not ugly either, just different. Her body was another story -- large breasts and hips with a narrow waist gave her a figure any human woman would be proud of. As she came closer, Zeke noticed her feet. Each foot had four equal-sized toes with black toenails; she was walking on the balls of her feet. Not surprising, Zeke considered, due to her elongated foot and almost non-existent heels. "Hi, I'm Zeke." Zeke stood up to greet the new arrival. "I am Aurel. I do not remember your species.""Aurel's voice was high-pitched, and her words seemed to have a faint echo as she spoke them. "Oh, I'm an Earthling," said Zeke. "Earthlings are kind of new to the Hirthal, most don't even know about the Hirthal." Aurel was a few inches taller than Zeke. Up close, Zeke could see a faint outline of nipples through the fabric of Aurel's top. How humanlike were her breasts, Zeke wondered? "Are you looking at my breasts?" asked Aurel. Busted! Zeke decided he had better apologize and hope Aurel was not too mad at him. But Standard was lacking a specific word for "sorry." "I didn't mean to upset you," said Zeke. "My eyes just sort of wandered down there." "Do you find me sexually interesting?" asked Aurel. "Ah... yes," said Zeke, feeling himself blushing. "Computer," said Aurel, "tell us the Earthling and Geltharv sexual profiles." "The Earthling profile is an estimated 80-30-100-300," said the computer. "The Geltharv profile is 62-40-97-7. Physical compatibility is indicated." Mvek and Sori hadn't mentioned sexual profiles, considered Zeke. Why was the Earth profile only estimated? Had the environmental and food profiles been estimated also? Zeke resolved to ask the computer about these things. "Good," said Aurel, taking off her top. The patch of white skin included her breasts, which Zeke noticed were very humanlike indeed. Aurel wasted no time taking off her pants and dropping them on the bench with her shirt. Zeke could see her groin was hairless too, the white patch of skin extended to the tops of her legs and continued between her legs as far as he could see. Aurel's sex looked normal to Zeke, at least from the outside. "Why are you still dressed?" asked Aurel. "Do you need to perform an Earthling ritual before sexual activity?" "Ah... no," said Zeke, taking off his clothes. "I was just watching you and got distracted." "You are reasonably attractive," said Aurel, standing close to Zeke. "Except for your pointy nose and strange feet." Zeke wrapped his arms gently around Aurel's waist, pulling Aurel towards him. Aurel's soft, firm breasts pressed intriguingly against Zeke's body. Aurel was several inches taller than Zeke so he used his left hand to carefully pull her head down. Zeke moistened his lips, tilted his head, and gave Aurel a quick kiss on her lips. Aurel didn't pull back so Zeke decided to continue. Kissing Aurel again, Zeke parted his lips and ran his tongue across Aurel's closed lips. Aurel started caressing Zeke's back and neck with her hands; Zeke returned the favor as he continued to kiss her. After a few times of Aurel not responding by opening her lips, Zeke decided to move on. He started kissing Aurel's neck, trailing his kisses down to her breasts. Zeke started kissing slow circles around Aurel's breasts while leisurely massaging her back and buttocks with his hands. As Zeke's kisses came closer to Aurel's now erect nipples, Aurel started making soft groaning noises. Zeke began licking Aurel's nipples, one at a time. He felt Aurel's entire body shiver as she let out a long groan. While continuing to lick and suck Aurel's nipples, Zeke moved his hand downward and traced along the inside of Aurel's thigh. Aurel squirmed and moved her legs further apart, giving Zeke better access to her moist sex. Running his fingers along Aurel's slit caused more shivering. Encouraged, Zeke slowly ran his fingers up and down Aurel's slit a few more times. Then Zeke gently moved Aurel's nether lips apart and began carefully exploring Aurel with his fingertips. When Zeke touched a large, fleshy lump near the front of Aurel's slit, she jumped and pressed hard against him. Inspired by Aurel's reaction, Zeke continued sucking on her nipples while he located the fleshy lump again. Cautiously, Zeke imperceptibly probed the edges of Aurel's hot spot. By the time Zeke's fingertips determined the lump was a flat, rough circle, about two inches wide and firmly attached to Aurel's body, Aurel was pressing against Zeke and shivering uncontrollably. Her moans were continuous. Aurel's responses had Zeke hard as a rock. Zeke stood up and started to maneuver his cock between Aurel's legs. Aurel grabbed Zeke's erect cock, moved him inside her wet vagina, and started frantically thrusting her hips. In moments Zeke matched her rhythm and the two became lost in the exquisite sensations of their lovemaking. Zeke made sure to grind against Aurel's sensitive fleshy pad on each downstroke. Soon Zeke felt he was going to explode. Aurel climaxed first and Zeke could feel her vagina repeatedly clamp down hard against his cock, triggering his own orgasm. The two stood, locked in their embrace, as they recovered and their breathing slowed. In a few minutes, Aurel pulled away from Zeke and sat on the bench. Zeke sat down beside Aurel and held her in his arms. "Aurel," said Zeke. "That was wonderful." "My throat is still tingling," said Aurel. "I need to complete my living arrangements tonight, but I would like to have sex with you again soon." "Same here," said Zeke. "Are you going to be on the base long?" "Yes," said Aurel. "What are you doing on the base?" "I'm training to be a pilot." "I am also a pilot in training," said Aurel. "Who is your instructor?" "Yzran," said Zeke. "Someone told me he was one of the best." "It," said Aurel, resting in Zeke's arms, "Yzran is not a reproductive member of its species. Yzran is my instructor also." Zeke and Aurel continued talking as they got dressed; they agreed to meet the next day. "See you tomorrow," said Zeke, as Aurel left, still pulling on her shirt. Zeke was just pulling on his own shirt when he noticed a green globe move to hover over his head, then disappear. Looking around, Zeke saw Walter standing at the entrance to the clearing. "Zeke," said Walter, pointing in the direction Aurel had gone. "Did you just..." "Isn't she cute?" asked Zeke. "You're crazy Zeke," said Walter, in English. "Are you going to fuck every female alien you see?" "Just the cute ones, man," grinned Zeke. "What happens if you get them pregnant?" asked Walter. "I can't get other species pregnant," said Zeke, "any more than I could get a goat pregnant." "Well," said Walter, rolling his eyes, "I'm sure you would know." "That's a good one, dude," laughed Zeke. "I'm going back to my quarters to get a shower, why don't you come along and we'll check out the base afterwards." Back in his quarters, Zeke stepped in the dry shower without bothering to get undressed. Zeke wasn't sure the shower would work with his clothes on, but it seemed worth a try. If it didn't work, he could always undress and try again. Zeke made the gesture at the shower and felt a tingling pass over his entire body. Zeke's clothes lifted slightly away from his skin and vibrated for an instant before settling back down. Zeke felt clean; even better, the dirt from the clearing floor was gone from his pants. "Computer," said Zeke, "what's the time here, and in Walter's habitat?" "The time here is ten hours, forty-two minutes," said the computer. "The time in Walter's habitat is five hours, forty-two minutes." There were still a few hours before night in this habitat. Zeke figured he would try to sleep around fourteen hours, so he would be alert in the morning. Walter had about the same amount of time before his dinner. That meant almost four hours to go sightseeing. "This is pretty nice," said Walter, looking around Zeke's quarters. "Did it come with the furniture?" "Just the bed," said Zeke. "I got the rest by telling the computer what I wanted. We've got about four hours to mess around, you want to go check out the base?" "Sure," said Walter. The Earthlings made their way back to the transport room and stepped on one of the blue platforms. "So," said Zeke, "where do you think we should start?" "What about the docking bay where we came in?" asked Walter. "We could get a better look at all those ships." "OK," said Zeke. "Computer, take us to the docking bay." "Destination not understood," replied the computer. "Computer," said Zeke, "take us where we can look at some of the ships docked with the base." "Understood," said the computer. "Nearest environmental match is 60-40-120-40. Conditions are outside Earthling comfort zone, but survivable. Do you wish to override environmental limitations?" Well, it was survivable. "Yes," said Zeke, "override environmental limitations and take us there." "Understood," said the computer. "Prepare for reduction in pressure." The platform lifted off and they were in the main transport tube once again. Zeke felt an ache in his ears and worked his jaw until his ears popped. "I wonder what the computer meant by survivable," muttered Walter, digging at his earhole with a finger. "Computer," said Walter, "why isn't there an environment within Earthling comfort zone?" "The docking area is designed with limited space for viewing rooms," said the computer. "Available viewing room area is insufficient for all environmental profiles to be maintained at once. Environmental profiles currently maintained are chosen based on the majority of species utilizing the viewing rooms." In addition to the slowly changing air pressure, Zeke noticed the temperature was getting cooler, and he felt strange, somehow... lighter. The gravity and air pressure were being reduced on the platform, Zeke realized. How did that work with an open platform? The platform must have some kind of force field around it, and the capability to adjust its own gravity and atmosphere, Zeke concluded. That would explain the lack of wind on the platform, the faint breeze could be from the platform itself. Interesting. "I think the platform is slowly adjusting environmental conditions," said Zeke. "If it gets too bad before we get there, we can always call it off." Zeke moved closer to the edge of the platform and cautiously stuck his hand out."As he had expected, his hand encountered a resistance and shortly could go no further. The force field wasn't hard or uncomfortable; as Zeke's hand got closer, it just quickly built up from a mild resistance to an invisible, impenetrable barrier. "Hey, Walter," said Zeke. "There's a force field around the platform." Walter felt the force field also, reminding Zeke of a mime doing the invisible box routine. "Why do you think the aliens used a force field instead of having real walls?" asked Walter. "I don't know," pondered Zeke. "Maybe it's just easier to get on and off without messing with doors." "I'll ask the computer," said Walter. "Computer, why don't the platforms have walls?" "Please rest assured the platforms are safe and reliable," said the computer. "No fatalities have ever been caused by a platform malfunction. The platforms are carefully maintained and possess eight redundant molivon wave and gravity repulsion elements. Do you wish to exit the platform now? Do you require assistance for emotional distress?" "Computer," said Walter, annoyed, "that wasn't what I wanted to know. What design or aesthetic requirement resulted in platforms instead of an enclosed transport room?" "Unable to match query to informational model," said the computer. So the computer did have its limitations after all. This might mean the computer wouldn't be able to answer Zeke's question about the sexual profile. Zeke resolved to find this out later, rather than explain to Walter why he was asking. In a few more minutes the air became thin, hard to breathe, and cold. If conditions got much more uncomfortable, Zeke decided, he would call this off. Just then, the platform changed direction and entered a side tube, then a smaller vertical tube with the same diameter as the platform. They quickly slowed and the wall in front of them disappeared, revealing a small room also the size of the platform. Their platform moved forward and came to a stop; the wall in front of them disappeared. Zeke momentarily forgot the uncomfortable environmental conditions as he took in his new surroundings. The room was about a hundred feet long, twenty feet wide, and ten feet high. At first glance, it looked like they were standing on a white, railless outdoor terrace, but Zeke quickly realized they were surrounded by seamless floor-to-ceiling windows. Through the windows, stacks of densely packed spaceships were everywhere. Zeke approached the nearest window and found he could not see the bottom or top of the brightly lit docking bay, the stacks of spaceships disappeared in the distance. Looking closer, Zeke saw each stack of ships clustered around a large white cylinder. One of those ships could be Mvek's, Zeke realized. "Damn," said Walter, "that's a lot of ships!" Zeke turned to look at Walter, and for the first time noticed they were not alone in the viewing room. Three aliens were taking in the view as well. Eight feet tall, they had round orange bodies on tall, spindly legs. "And a lot of different kinds of ships," added Zeke, turning back to the window. "We didn't see all these ships when we came in," said Walter. "There were a lot, but not stacked up like this." "They are pretty tightly packed," said Zeke. "Maybe this is like, storage or something." Most of the ships were the standard greyish or silver disk, like Mvek's. But some were white and teardrop-shaped, with dual fins running from the point to the rear. Zeke looked over the ships, wondering which type he would be piloting, until Walter distracted him. "Hey, Zeke," said Walter, shivering. "We've been here a while and it's kind of cold, let's go back." "OK, dude," said Zeke, suddenly realizing he was cold too. The pair headed back to the platform, looking forward to getting back to a warmer environment. "Computer," said Zeke, "Walter's quarters." By the time they got to Walter's habitat, the environmental conditions were much more comfortable. This habitat was the same shape and design as Zeke's, but the ceiling was light blue and the plants were all Earth-type plants. Walter's quarters looked mostly like Zeke's, except the back wall had three doors instead of open toilet and bathing areas. Other than the round bed, the main room was empty. Zeke hung around and talked to Walter about the day as Walter picked out furniture for his quarters. Finally, deciding it was late enough, Zeke headed back to his own quarters to get some sleep. Upon entering his quarters, Zeke was startled by the computer's voice. "Attention Zeke," said the computer, "you have one message." A message? "Computer," said Zeke, "give me the message." A hologram of Otheshiil's head appeared before Zeke. "Hello, Zeke. To help your body adjust to the new timezone, drink the small bottle on your table before going to sleep. Your body's internal rhythms will be adjusted, and you will sleep easily. Also, if you get hungry between meals, instruct the computer to give you a snack at your current location. Sleep well, Zeke." The hologram vanished. Cool, thought Zeke. Now, despite the timezone change, he could be sure of getting some sleep and being alert for tomorrow's training. "Computer," said Zeke, "wake me up by 21 hours every morning, and notify me thirty minutes before my training starts." "Acknowledged," said the computer. Zeke found the bottle Otheshiil had mentioned, it was a clear container about the size of a thimble. After getting ready for bed, Zeke drank the bottle and crawled under the covers. Sleep came quickly. CHAPTER 5 Zeke awoke, feeling well rested. So Otheshiil's bottle had worked after all. What time was it now? A clock would be handy, and Zeke's quarters was lacking one. "Computer," said Zeke, "give me a clock visible from everywhere in the room." "Your clock will arrive shortly," said the computer. After Zeke got ready for the day, he noticed one of the robots positioning a clock in the center of the ceiling. The clock was a flattened circle with time readouts visible on three sides, and Zeke could see the time from most angles. The clock read 21:07, just about time for breakfast. But before breakfast, there were some questions Zeke wanted answers to. "Computer, why is the Earthling sexual profile only estimated?" "Unable to match query to informational model," said the computer. "Computer, are the Earthling environmental and food profiles estimated?" "No," said the computer. "Computer, how is the Shao experimentation on Earthlings different from the actions of the aliens the Hirthal are protecting Earth from?" "Please rest assured unwanted experimentation is disallowed here," said the computer. "Experimentation on unwilling intelligent species is against the Hirthal code of conduct. Were you subjected to unwanted actions? Do you require assistance for emotional or physical distress?" "No," said Zeke. After Walter's question last night, the computer's inability to answer questions of this nature was not surprising. The computer easily handled the "where are my quarters" type questions but was unable to understand the more abstract queries, responding with what seemed to be canned answers. If Zeke were going to get his questions answered, he would have to ask someone or review the computer data manually. His quarters hadn't come with a computer interface like on Mvek's ship, perhaps Zeke should ask the computer for one. "Computer, give me a computer interface terminal." A three-foot square terminal appeared floating in the air before Zeke. Surprised, Zeke touched it and his hand passed through. Only a hologram, thought Zeke, but it looked solid. Zeke spent some time looking through the information, but did not immediately find what he wanted. The information was in Standard and arranged in an unfamiliar hierarchy. After a few false leads, Zeke found information about the Shao and Earth, but was interrupted before he had a chance to read much of it. "Attention Zeke," said the computer, "will you accept a communication from Maeoglaiere?" Maeoglaiere? Oh, the transparent floating alien from indoctrination. Now what could Maeoglaiere want, Zeke wondered? "Yes," said Zeke. "Zeke," said Maeoglaiere's voice from midair, "I hope you are comfortable in your new environment and I would like to meet with you to discuss any concerns you may have. As you have some time before your training starts, and your species sometimes desires company during meals, and communication is more effective when the participants are in physical proximity, would you be agreeable to meet in the dining room near your quarters this morning? I would schedule my arrival for whenever you originally intended traveling to the dining room, so as not to inconveniently adjust your schedule." "Sure," said Zeke, "I was just about to leave, I'll see you there." "Excellent," said Maeoglaiere. "I will arrive at the location in five minutes. Computer, close my connection to Zeke." "Disconnected," said the computer. Maeoglaiere had not arrived when Zeke entered the dining room. Five other aliens were in the dining room, but no one Zeke had met before. Zeke gestured at a platform and sat down in the newly reconfigured chair. Behind the counter, a five-foot-tall bipedal alien stood. Thick, but not chubby, the alien was completely covered with coarse, orange hair, except for his head, which was bare with lighter orange skin. The head was elongated and narrow, with solid yellow eyes, pointed teeth, and long pointed ears. "You are Zeke," said the unfamiliar alien behind the counter. "I am Flezg. I will present you with your meal soon." Flezg turned and walked away, short stubby tail twitching as he walked. "Sounds good," said Zeke. Zeke noticed Maeoglaiere float to a stop next to him. The alien hovered silently in his clear container, tentacles swirling in slow patterns."Zeke," said Maeoglaiere, "in adjusting to your new surroundings, have you encountered any difficulties?" "No," said Zeke. "Everything has been great, no difficulties at all." "Excellent," said Maeoglaiere. "New arrivals to the base usually have questions, even about seemingly unimportant matters. I am sure you have at least one question; perhaps you have many questions. I would be very pleased if you would ask at least one question, no matter how insignificant it may seem to you." Flezg presented Zeke with a glass of purple liquid, toast with jam, and a bowl of oatmeal with banana slices and raisins -- at least Zeke hoped they were raisins. Zeke took a bite. Well, they tasted like raisins. "I did have a few things I was curious about," said Zeke. "The computer gave an estimated Earthling sexual profile, but another species' sexual profile was not estimated. Does that mean anything?" "Before I fully answer your question," said Maeoglaiere, "allow me to briefly discuss the reason behind the estimation of the Earthling sexual profile. A sexual profile is a four-digit representation of most physical and emotional factors utilized in sexual interactions. The physical factors are relatively simple to determine and are used to avoid physical injury from incompatible biologies. The emotional factors are difficult to determine, but can be determined to an extent with sufficient study. "For Earthlings and other species with divergent and isolated or semi-isolated subgroups, both in a geographical and cultural sense, an absolute sexual profile is impossible. While an average could be determined with sufficient study, the deviations from that average would be too great for the average to be useful in classifying a single individual. "For some few species, usually more advanced species, the possibility of rapid travel and a single culture on a planetary or multi-planetary scale allow a single sexual profile to apply to all members of the species. However, a non-estimated sexual profile is rare; only a small percentage of species have a non-estimated sexual profile. "If you choose, you could have your individual sexual profile determined. Simply ask the computer to make an appointment with the medical facility on this base. The emotional determination usually takes several sessions of three hours each. Only a few of the sessions should prove unpleasant." Three hours? Unpleasant? "I'll just stay with the estimated profile," said Zeke. There was no issue with the sexual profile after all, thought Zeke, relieved for some reason. "Now I am curious," said Maeoglaiere, "if you have any experiences related to your sexual profile that are troubling you, even if in only the most insignificant way. Or perhaps experiences not troubling you at all, but only engaging your curiosity, even if in only the most insignificant manner." "So," considered Zeke, "how do the sexual profiles work? How can I tell if two profiles are compatible?" "For Earthlings," said Maeoglaiere, "if the first three numbers differ by less than 50, the 50 being your variation number, you are in no physical danger. However, the other individual or individuals participating would have their own variation numbers. My variation number is 30, for example. So if you compared our profiles and found mine to differ from yours at most by 40, we would not be compatible. Sexual contact between us would leave you unharmed, but could possibly be physically damaging to me. "However, the sexual profiles represent the worst-case contact. Even with incompatible sexual profiles, two individuals may still have a sexual encounter if they understand the biological incompatibilities and act accordingly. The incompatibility could be due to harmful bodily fluids or harmful physical actions. Some species might penetrate their sexual partner with a stinger, for example. Other species might flail their limbs uncontrollably, injuring their partner. "If you are considering a sexual encounter with an individual having an incompatible sexual profile, have the computer list the incompatibilities. The computer will be very clear, and you should be able, in most cases, to avoid the incompatible behavior. If anything is unclear to either of the participants, call a medical facility for clarification. "Now, the last number in the sexual profile is related to possible emotional conflicts due to sexual interactions. A lower number means an individual will not be unduly distressed, a higher number means an individual could be unduly distressed. If the number is greater than 500, you should proceed with caution, and take every opportunity not to distress the individual. Usually, this means asking before initiating a new behavior or changing the current behavior. If the number is greater than 700, please consult with a medical facility before initiating sexual activity." Zeke finished his oatmeal and took a sip of the purple liquid. It tasted a bit tart, but Zeke didn't recognize the flavor. "What is your opinion of the sexual profiles?" asked Maeoglaiere. "Does the usage of sexual profiles seem reasonable? Have you experienced any problems with the sexual profiles?" "No problems at all," said Zeke, "now that I know how they work." Maeoglaiere's lower tentacles stopped for a moment, then resumed their movement. "You were not informed of the details of the sexual profile before," said Maeoglaiere. "How does this make you feel?" "I guess..." pondered Zeke, "I guess it makes me feel a bit... disappointed. But everything seems to have worked out OK, so I'm not worried about it." "However," said Maeoglaiere, "you would have preferred to be informed, and you may be wondering why you were not informed. Standard procedure is to not inform any individuals of the existence of the sexual profile if the fourth digit of their sexual profiles is 300 or above, as the information might cause distress or discomfort." None of this was worth worrying about; it was just the standard procedure. Why was Maeoglaiere asking these questions anyway? What reason could... Of course! Maeoglaiere was probably the alien equivalent of a psychiatrist, making sure Zeke wasn't a nutcase before handing him the controls of a spaceship. So what now, Zeke wondered. How should he act? Realistically, Zeke had only a vague idea of what they were looking for. Probably, the best approach was to be honest. "Attention Zeke," said the computer, "your morning training class will begin in thirty minutes." "I do not wish to delay your arrival at your training class," said Maeoglaiere. "However, I would like to continue our discussion. Would you be agreeable to meet in my office at nine this evening?" "Yes," said Zeke, "I'll be there." A few minutes later, Zeke entered the training room. Several aliens were present and already experimenting with the flight simulators. The backs of the hovering holographic displays were not blank, but showed moving views of the solar system Zeke had practiced in. None of the aliens acted like an instructor, so Zeke decided to experiment with the simulator for a while until Yzran arrived. One of the aliens, the blue ball with the three pink tentacles, was in the section of the room where the couch was missing -- perched on a white sling-like contraption. It must be the same as the seating in the dining room, Zeke concluded. Since the long couch took up most of the wall, very likely most aliens were bipedal enough to use the couch. Zeke couldn't see faces because of the displays, but thought he recognized Aurel's lower body seated on the couch. Sure enough, it was Aurel, skimming over the surface of what looked like one of the inner planets. "Hi, Aurel," said Zeke, sitting down beside her. "Computer, begin flight simulation." A set of controls rose from the floor and positioned themselves in front of Zeke, the holographic viewscreen also appeared. Conveniently, Zeke's simulator configured itself to the same positions and settings he had selected last time. "Hello Zeke," said Aurel, focusing on her controls. Zeke's ship was where he left it, and he quickly zoomed to the first inner planet and tried some skimming of his own. "How long have you been here practicing?" asked Zeke. "I arrived an hour before the start of training," said Aurel. "And I practiced six hours last evening. I will complete the training in much less than the average 180 days." Zeke continued to chat with Aurel as they both flew their simulated ships around the solar system. Caught up in his flying, Zeke barely noticed the other aliens filing into the room, until an eye on a stalk appeared over his viewscreen. "You are doing very well with basic flight, trainees," said the alien behind the eye. Diverting some of his attention from the viewscreen, Zeke took in the new arrival. Instead of a head, the pale-blue alien had two thick, three-foot-long, eyestalks that joined a barrel-shaped body directly at the shoulders. Thick arms ended in large hands; no thumbs, but four opposable digits looked capable enough. Short, thick, legs featured feet that were larger versions of the hands. Naked, the alien had no discernible genitalia. Only one eye was watching Zeke, the other was watching Aurel. Aurel had mentioned Yzran was not reproductive, and the alien had called Zeke a trainee. So this had to be Yzran, Zeke realized. "Do you understand the navigational system?" asked Yzran. "I have a general understanding of the system," said Aurel. "No," said Zeke. "The galaxy," started Yzran, "is considered as a loose aggregation of individual components, joined to make a rough disk. Considered from a gravitational standpoint, the galaxy has reasonably constant centers of mass, represented both as a single point, and as a disk bisecting the galaxy.""Imagine a line drawn from the point at the center of the galaxy to your current position on the disk of the galaxy. The line to this position would start at the center point and diverge at an angle away from the disk. These are the three elements of your position: distance from center point, distance from the disk, and the rotational point on the disk. The zero rotational point begins in the gravitational center of the first arm of the galaxy. Distances are given in kleths, rotation is given in thousandths. Inquire of the computer for more details. This base is at 01593323.532238322, -00001359.494838251, .323332237; in open space, but near the simulated solar system you are practicing in. "Use these touch panel buttons to display coordinates and galactic position," said Yzran, indicating a subsection of buttons. "Aurel, Zeke, I request the two of you work together to practice navigation. Staying within the solar system, one of you will pilot to a position and send coordinates to the other. The other will navigate to the given position; then you will switch roles. I will return and check your progress." Yzran moved on to the next trainee. "Computer," said Aurel, releasing her controls, "transmit coordinates to Zeke." A set of coordinates appeared on one of Zeke's navigation views, and Zeke played with the buttons until he got the windows arranged to his satisfaction. Once the navigation window was scaled to a solar-system level, the lengthy coordinates appeared in sharp, white digits. A portion of the coordinates were larger and brighter, the rest dim. Zeke guessed only the highlighted portion was needed for navigation within the solar system; certainly the reduced number of digits were easier to work with. After a bit of fumbling around, Zeke located Aurel's ship. "There you are," smiled Zeke. Zeke took off to the ring around the large gas giant and transmitted his coordinates to Aurel, who shortly found his position. Zeke noticed the asteroids were not as he had left them, but restored to the original, sparse distribution. "Stay away from the rings," said Aurel, moving her ship off, "the particles are dangerous." The two practiced finding each other until lunch, then returned early and continued through the afternoon. By the time training was over for the day, Zeke could find Aurel in his sleep and was starting to get bored. Saying goodbye to Aurel, Zeke left. Hopefully they would do something more interesting tomorrow. Back in his quarters, Zeke brought up the computer terminal and reviewed the navigational information. The first arm of the galaxy was two arms clockwise from Earth's arm, and the top side of the galaxy as well as the first arm was defined based on the planet Oshalo, the Shao homeworld. More investigation showed the Shao, one of the older spacefaring species, had originated the navigational references as they expanded into the galaxy. After dinner, Zeke headed to the transport room, determined to arrive early for his appointment with Maeoglaiere. The transport room was busier and Zeke noticed something new about the platforms. As one platform lifted up to the ceiling, another platform rose up from below the floor to take its place. The same thing happened when platforms arrived, multiple platforms would smoothly stack and unstack from the three landing points, allowing an uninterrupted flow of passengers. Without having to wait for more than a moment, Zeke had his own platform which lifted off before he could state a destination. Once in the tunnel, the platform moved to the side and stopped. Before, the platforms had waited until a destination was given. Why was it different this time, Zeke wondered? "State destination," said the computer. "Maeoglaiere's office," said Zeke. "Environmental profile is 97-103-120-83," said the computer. "Fatal to Earthlings without appropriate protective suit. Do you wish to return to originating transport room?" "No," said Zeke. Fatal to Earthlings? Well, Maeoglaiere had been in a floating bubble when he had talked to Zeke before. Obviously Zeke needed his own version of the bubble to visit Maeoglaiere. Only, why hadn't Maeoglaiere warned him about this little detail? Could it be a test? "No destination given," said the computer, "returning to originating transport room." The platform went back to the transport room and Zeke wandered out into the park of his habitat ring, towards his quarters, thinking. This just had to be a test of Zeke's resourcefulness, and the resource Zeke needed was a survival suit for Maeoglaiere's environment. So far, the computer had provided everything he had required. "Computer," said Zeke, "give me an environmental suit suitable for getting to Maeoglaiere's office." Shortly after Zeke got back to his quarters, a robot floated down to Zeke carrying a flexible suit with a clear helmet. The suit was white with a series of colored stripes on the left side. A large opening in the front allowed Zeke to put the suit on without too much difficulty, his head fitting comfortably in the transparent helmet. The suit had no air tanks and the only stiff part was the collar and bubble helmet. How did it recycle air? Were there supposed to be air tanks? Other than that, the only part Zeke had difficulty with was how to seal the suit's front opening, both sides of the opening were smooth, with no obvious method of joining them. When in doubt, ask the computer. "Computer," said Zeke, "give me instructions on how to seal the suit and verify it's working properly." "Slide into the suit through the front opening," said the computer, "feet first. The suit is voice controlled. Instruct the suit to activate, and perform self check. Upon returning to a safe environment, instruct the suit to deactivate." The computer continued explaining the functionality of the suit, but Zeke had what he needed. "Suit, activate." The front of the suit pulled itself closed. Zeke heard a low hissing sound and felt a faint breeze blowing on his face. "Activation complete, ready to enter hostile environment," said the suit. "Suit, perform self check," said Zeke. "Self check complete," said the suit. "Environmental recycling normal." That hadn't taken long, Zeke thought as he left his quarters. Zeke could still make his appointment on time, if he managed to avoid further delays. Shortly, Zeke entered the transport room and stepped on a platform which immediately started to move upwards. "Computer," said Zeke, "take me to Maeoglaiere's office." "Environmental profile is 97-103-120-83," said the computer. "Fatal to Earthlings without appropriate protection. Do you wish to return to originating transport room?" "Computer," said Zeke, "take me to Maeoglaiere's office, override environmental limitations." "Acknowledged," said the computer. "Scan shows appropriate protective suit. Be advised conditions at your destination are lethal and remain within your protective suit until returning to safe conditions." As the platform continued down the tube, Zeke noticed the platform was starting to fill with water. Already up to his knees, the water continued to fill the chamber. Shortly, Zeke was underwater but still breathing normally. How had the platform made such a rapid change, and where had all the water come from? The platform was only a few inches thick -- another mystery. Zeke still felt a faint breeze from the suit's recycling, so obviously air tanks were unnecessary. This was some technology all right, the only solid part of the suit was the collar and that wasn't all that big or thick. Somehow the aliens had packed an advanced computer, power, and a complete atmospheric recycling system into that collar. "Suit, perform self check," said Zeke, nervously. "Self check complete," said the suit. "Environmental recycling normal." "Suit, how much time do I have before I run out of air or power?" "Approximately 1,798 standard years at current usage," said the suit. A standard year was almost three Earth years. Well, that would probably be long enough, decided Zeke. Zeke definitely had to relax. The alien technology was way ahead of anything Zeke was used to. If the platforms hadn't been the cause of any accidents, the environmental suits were probably just as safe. Shortly, the platform arrived in another transport room and stopped. This transport room was like the one Zeke had left, except for being completely underwater and having large circles instead of archways. Since he was underwater, Zeke had difficulty moving forward as fast as he would have liked. Could the suit help him out there as well? "Suit," said Zeke, "take me to Maeoglaiere's office." "Acknowledged," said the suit. The suit moved forward, picking up speed and tilting Zeke to a headfirst, horizontal position. Zeke looked up and saw one of the entry circles approaching. Zeke looked around, fascinated, as he passed through the circular entrance into the underwater habitat area. The water was crystal clear, and Zeke almost felt he was floating through the air. Overhead, a diffuse light filtered down through thick, semi-transparent plantlife. Dozens of Maeoglaiere's species floated gracefully below the plantlife, their round bodies contracting and expanding as they moved forward. Other than the sentient aliens, nothing else was in the water or on the barren, rocky bottom of the habitat. The only sounds were muted swishings, probably from the aliens as they moved through the water. Interestingly, the only aliens Zeke saw were Maeoglaiere's species. Was this a situation like the Earthling habitat, or was this because of a specialized environment only suitable for a single species? The suit continued to move through the water as Zeke took in his surroundings, and shortly Zeke was approaching the far wall. The wall was a light blue and was covered by circular entrances; light streaming from some of them.Freed of the limitations of gravity by the watery medium, the entrances covered the entire wall from top to bottom. The openings were arranged in a spiral pattern, with numbers at the top of each spiral. Zeke was headed for the third arm of spiral 261 and soon entered the lighted eighth circle from the tip. Inside, the room was brightly lit, barren, and open. The floor and ceiling were a smooth light-blue color, with shelf-like recesses in the walls displaying objects Zeke did not recognize, but took for artwork. Completely devoid of furniture, the area was a circle about 50 feet in diameter. Zeke saw Maeoglaiere floating to one side, tentacles wrapped around a set of thin bars descending from the ceiling. Noting more descending bars near Maeoglaiere, Zeke had to revise his earlier impression about the furniture -- it was there, just of a type Zeke did not recognize. Would Maeoglaiere be able to hear Zeke when he talked? "Hi, Maeoglaiere," said Zeke. "Hello Zeke," said Maeoglaiere, "wrap yourself around a bar and we will continue our discussion from this morning." Zeke swam forward and grabbed one of the bars. There wasn't much current so he was in no danger of floating off, probably this was Maeoglaiere's equivalent of a chair. "We had just started talking about sexual profiles," said Maeoglaiere. "And how you had a slight sense of disappointment in not being informed about sexual profiles and how they worked. When we stopped our conversation, you were no longer disappointed." "Right," said Zeke, feeling a faint tingling sensation in his head. "All species also have an aesthetic profile," said Maeoglaiere, "which describes your emotional and physical comfort in a particular environment. The environment in this habitat is slightly outside the range of your profile, meaning you would be comfortable here for a few days before becoming emotionally distressed. Did you know about the aesthetic profile?" "No," said Zeke. He had an aesthetic profile? Zeke felt his whole body relax, his grip on the bar slowly loosened. "You were not informed of the details of the aesthetic profile before," said Maeoglaiere. "How does this make you feel?" "Well," considered Zeke, "it really doesn't make me feel anything." Zeke felt he could float here forever. "In your thoughts," said Maeoglaiere, "compare your present feelings about the aesthetic profile with your past feelings about the sexual profile. Consider your current feelings, and re-experience your past feelings." Zeke focused his thoughts inward, thinking about those feelings. "You are now awake and alert," said Maeoglaiere. Zeke blinked and tightened his grip on the bar. "How are you feeling?" asked Maeoglaiere. "I'm feeling pretty good," said Zeke. "Excellent," said Maeoglaiere. "Our discussion was very productive tonight and I would like to continue next week. Would you be agreeable to meet in my office at nine on the next third-day?" "Yes," said Zeke, pleased everything had gone so well. "I'll be here." "Suit," said Zeke, "take me to the transport room." The suit obliged and Zeke was soon floating over a transport platform. "Computer," said Zeke, "to my quarters." "Environmental profile is 80-10-130-90," said the computer. "Significant variation from current location. Unable to comply without override." "Computer," said Zeke, "to my quarters, override environmental limitations." "Acknowledged," said the computer. "Please remain in your protective suit until arrival at destination." The faint background noises ceased and the suit oriented Zeke towards the floor as the platform rose. By the time the platform arrived back in a familiar transport room, the water had been evacuated. Zeke looked down at his suit and the platform and was surprised to find both completely dry, as if they had never been underwater. Once Zeke was back in his quarters, he deactivated the suit and put it away with his clothing. The clock read 15:41, later than he had thought. Zeke decided to go ahead and get some sleep for tomorrow.

CHAPTER 1

Authors/xyvos/Zeke.txt

Axira

Doctor Payne's Special Treatment

Zayn didn't remember how he got into his room--in fact, he was half-sure he passed out from the pain on the way in--but the next thing he knew, his eyes were fluttering open and Doctor Payne was standing over him. Groaning, he shifted, growling aloud as his reddened and sore bum rubbed against the starched sheets covering his cot. What made the doctor think putting Zayn on his back was a good idea? Groaning in pain, Zayn moved to roll over, but the doctor stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Doctor Payne," he muttered, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light. "Yes, I'm here." The doctor rubbed Zayn's shoulder in what Zayn hoped was a comforting manner. Zayn furrowed his brow. He'd never been spoken to in this soft tone before, and it confused the hell out of him. "Can I lay on my front, please, sir?" "Take care not to hurt yourself." Doctor Payne nodded, using his hands to help Zayn onto his stomach. The boy sighed in relief once he was situated, the tender skin on his bum thanking him for it. "I do not think you will remember, but I have applied a healing balm to your skin to prevent permanent scarring or damage. You will only suffer some discomfort sitting and walking for the next few days." Zayn grunted in response, too exhausted and in pain to do anything else at the moment. For a split second, he feared a rebuke, but the doctor just continued to speak. "No more treatments for the rest of the day," he said, and Zayn wanted to cheer in relief. Instead, he closed his eyes and listened to the rest. "Your meals will be brought to you in your room, so you will not have to leave. You may go to your exercise hour, though, if you wish." Zayn nodded. "Yes, please," he whispered. "I would like that. Thank you." The next thing he knew, the doctor was carding a hand through his hair, the way his mother used to when he was a child and had experienced a fright. "You may call me Liam, from now on." "Liam," Zayn repeated drowsily, eyes closing. The pain was starting to fade already, from a hot throbbing to a dull but persistent burn. "Sleep, Zayn." Doctor Payne--Liam--straightened out his coat and walked away. Zayn blinked several times, each motion of his eyelids heavier than the last, before he gave in to sleep. He awoke to the sound of his door opening and the nurse assigned to him, Leigh-Anne, walking in with a tray. "Hello, Zayn," she greeted him with a smile. "I've brought your lunch." The sound of food perked him right up, and he sat up carefully to see the sandwich and water he'd been brought. "Thank you." "You're welcome." She handed him the tray, and as he began nibbling on the sandwich, she sat beside him. It had become something of a routine for them: she had always been friendly to him, so when they saw each other they paused for a short chat. "How are you feeling?" Zayn pulled a face, making her chuckle behind her hand. "Terrible," he said honestly. "Like I'll never be able to sit properly again." Leigh-Anne, for some reason, smiled. "May I tell you something secret?" Zayn nodded, eager to hear whatever she had to tell him. Perhaps it was about him, or about Doctor Payne. "I was with Hannah--you may know her as Nurse Walker--whilst the doctors discussed potential changes to your treatment regimens." Changes to the treatments? If Zayn weren't currently trying to swallow a bite of sandwich, surely his jaw would have dropped. "Did they decide anything?" The nurse nodded. "Doctor Styles had been adamant that you and Louis receive more, in his words, `hands-on' treatment. So Doctor Payne will be doing all of your treatments from now on. Doctor Styles will handle Louis on his own." Honestly, Zayn had expected much worse news. He didn't particularly like either doctor, but the brief episode after his public punishment had shown him a surprising side to Liam, a side that Zayn rather liked. If that was what he could expect from this `hands-on' treatment, then he wouldn't argue. "Why is that, though? Do they think we will, er, respond better somehow?" "Yes, to some degree. They believe that by taking you each on personally, they will be able to better gauge your individual responses and progress without having to constantly consult each other." Good. If Zayn were frank, Doctor Styles scared him. The man was almost always calm, in the way that made any anger even more terrifying. At least Doctor Payne did not spare him any comment, whether it was positive or negative. "I suppose it could be worse. They could have extended my stay," he said, half to himself. "That is true. Are you feeling well enough to go outside for your exercise period?" Leigh-Anne asked him as she collected his empty plate. "Yes, please." He handed her his empty glass, setting it atop the tray. "Niall will be in to collect you presently." With that, he was left alone to squirm on his bum and wait for the blond man to come by. Niall confused him to no end. How could one be so cheery working in a place like this? He supposed it was the only way to keep sane. Niall came knocking and entering several minutes later. "Zayn! How are you feeling, lad?" "Alright, I suppose," Zayn said with a shrug, following as they set off. Louis, being a year older, lived on the floor above Zayn's, so he trotted up the stairs after Niall and down the hall to Louis' door. "Louis, it's time for your exercise period," Niall said, unlocking the door. Louis, looking rather sickly, stood unsteadily from his cot and joined them both as they started for downstairs. Zayn frowned. Louis appeared legitimately ill. "Hey, mate." He nudged Louis' elbow with his own, noting Louis' bowed head and the way he avoided looking at Zayn. "You alright?" Louis finally looked up, worry in his eyes. Zayn gave him a small smile and watched the relief wash other the other boy's face. "Yeah, are you?" "As alright as I can be. Doctor Payne is really nice when he wants to be, you know," Zayn replied in a hushed tone, as though they were sharing a secret. Louis' eyebrows rose. "He must really favour you. I don't think he likes me very much at all." Zayn shrugged. "Perhaps it will only be a short-lived thing whilst I am recovering. Doctor Styles would appear to favour you as well." Louis grimaced. "Favour me? No, I believe he actually enjoys watching me suffer." Zayn grimaced as well. Back home, he had heard his share of horror stories from boys who had been to nursing homes where some of the doctors had been downright sadistic. Doctor Styles hadn't seemed the type, but perhaps that was what lay under the creepy calm exterior. Secretly he was glad he would never have to see that doctor again. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad, only seeing Doctor Payne from now on. Outside, he was surprised to see, as he and Louis walked into the courtyard, the rest of the boys swarming them excitedly, chattering about how brave they had both been taking their punishments. "I would have cried like a baby!" exclaimed one. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Louis blushing and ducking his head in modesty, but accepting the praise all the same. Once the initial excitement passed, they scattered to continue on with the hour as usual. Zayn played a slower, gentler match against Louis and Aiden, and before long the only reminder of his ordeal was the residual pain in his backside. From what the doctor had told him, Zayn was to be left mostly alone for the rest of the day, something he was glad for. The first week of being isolated for hours on end had made him a bit stir-crazy, but before long he associated it with peace and quiet--for the most part. The wooden frame stood, menacing, in the middle of the room, so obtrusively large that Zayn always had to walk around it to get anywhere if he wanted to pace. Having expected no visitors, he was surprised when the door opened about a half hour after Leigh-Anne brought him his dinner. Liam walked in, jacket unbuttoned and loose around his waist. "Hello, Zayn. How was the rest of your day?" he asked, his voice oddly warm. "Um, alright." Zayn leaned against the wall next to his cot, not wanting to sit down on his arse. "Good. Would you like to sit down?" The doctor took a seat on the end of the cot, motioning for Zayn to follow. Too afraid to disobey in case that was an order, Zayn sat, shifting gingerly in place. "I have spoken with Doctor Styles regarding your lapse in behaviour and whether we should change your treatments." Zayn gulped audibly. "I'm sorry, s--Liam," he mumbled.Liam gave him a hard look, and Zayn clamped his mouth shut while the doctor continued. "We have come to an agreement. From this point forward, I will be taking care of all of your treatments. Doctor Styles will do the same with Louis. This is to ensure the best personal care we can give you both, and we believe that one-on-one treatment will achieve that. For the next week, I will also add ten extra strokes to your corporal punishments as an ongoing lesson to you. Is that clear?" Zayn nodded. "Is that all, Liam?" he asked, then immediately regretted it. Great, he may as well have asked to be punished twice as often. But Liam only nodded in response. "Yes, that is all. Doctor Styles is taking a different approach to Louis' treatments, I believe he will be incorporating some aspects from today's punishment into the everyday treatments, but I do not believe I need to do that with you. Louis is...he can be very good when he wants to be, and very bad when he does not, and with him it is difficult to predict how he will behave. You, on the other hand," he said, words turning to caramel as he brought a hand up to softly cup the side of Zayn's face, "are not as, ah, unstable. I believe all you need is a reminder here and there." Zayn relaxed as the doctor caressed his cheek, finding comfort in the soft touch. He liked Louis very much, but the doctor wasn't completely wrong. Louis was something of a firecracker sometimes, and Zayn almost feared his friend might incur another public punishment before his stay was up if he wasn't careful. "Alright," he said, unsure how to respond to the backhanded compliment. "Your treatments will resume again in the morning." Liam stood without moving his hand, looking down at Zayn and blocking out the light behind him. Zayn had to tilt his head back at an uncomfortable angle to look at him, and then suddenly the doctor was kissing him full on the mouth. Shocked, Zayn gasped into the kiss, the parting of his lips only allowing Liam to deepen it and kiss him harder. Unsure if he should reciprocate, Zayn panicked, his mind going blank as he registered Liam's warm tongue licking into his mouth against his own. By the time the doctor pulled away, Zayn's eyes were wide, jaw dropped slightly and mouth shiny from spit. "Yes," Liam said thoughtfully. "We will get on just fine, I think." He patted Zayn's head like a dog, turned away, and then the door was shutting behind him with a loud click that echoed in the small room. Still bewildered, Zayn wiped his mouth with the back of his shaking hand. What was that for? Just when he thought his stay couldn't get any stranger, it had. Maybe he wasn't so sure about Doctor Payne after all.

Authors/Axira/Fanfiction/the dr styles verse/Doctor Payne's Special Treatment.txt

Simplex

Princess Zowie and a Scene of Puppy Love

Zowie sat in her great hall atop her mahogany throne. Not a lot was going on this afternoon, and she was thinking about her twenty-first birthday party later. Her friends and followers were in the great ballroom off to the side of the great hall, getting preparations done, putting up decorations, and getting games and refreshments in place. Many people from the city were in the castle, milling about, helping out, hoping for a glimpse of the goddess-like Princess. Zowie sat and watched. Her people had had the audacity and gall to tell her she wasn't allowed to peek into the great ballroom until the party was ready! She couldn't believe it - it amounted to mutiny! But her husband, Lord Bonalot (of late, Sir Bonalot, formerly her Knight Commander), had convinced her that she shouldn't go to her ballroom until the party was ready. Zowie was dressed in a tight purple blouse, as if anything covering her massive and enormous, unbelievably huge bosom could be loose, which covered her mountainous breasts tightly. Her huge nipples threatened to punch through the highly stretched fabric. The shirt closed down on an impossibly tiny waist. Around the tiny waist was the gathering of her skirt, black fabric with bright flowers on it. She was dressed casually today. Zowie sat with one elbow on the arm of her huge carved mahogany throne, her milky smooth and flawless chin in her dainty hand, propping up her head. Her hazel eyes gazed out tiredly over her hall. All the scurrying figures and people were so involved in the preparations for her party that they were hardly taking any notice of her. And she didn't feel good when people took no notice of her. She blew at a long thick strand of her honey-brown hair which had blown down over her wide and honest freckled face. Her face was actually quite an everyday face with a full nose and a wide mouth with huge straight white teeth. But the number of times she pulled this mouth into a huge bay window smile, as well as her attitude and bearing, made up for any possible deficiency she might have by having a face which was just ordinary. At last, she could take her boredom no more, and she got up with a grunt of irritation. She stormed off, finally getting the attention of some men carrying heavy tables around. They practically dropped the heavy oaken furniture on their own toes as they caught a glimpse of Zowie's wide heart-shaped ass swishing back and forth hypnotically as she hurried away from them. Zowie dodged into a private study off the hallway going to her chambers to maybe sit and have a little bit of a read. She was surprised to see a figure there. It was a young man, hardly more than a teenager. He had been standing, looking at a huge mural painting of Zowie, her dress, in the painting, blowing up provocatively in a wind, her massive breasts ready to tumble out of her low-cut dress. Zowie's shock turned to amusement when she noticed that the young teen had his cock out, in his hand, and was rubbing away, looking at her painting, his tongue hanging out with bits of drool going down his chin. "Hi, wouldn't you rather look at the real thing?" said Zowie softly. The reaction of the teen was predictable. He seemed to fly a dozen feet in the air, blushing beet-red with having been caught. He fought to stick his hardened dick back in his trousers. "No, don't worry about that!" cooed Zowie, slinking near to him. He was looking at her with a look of abject terror on his face. "I won't hurt you," she said, closing and locking the heavy oaken door to the little study, locking it with her own private key. The young teen just stood there in shock, staring at her, as Zowie sat down in a comfy chair near him. "Don't stop touching yourself," she cooed at him, gazing at him softly, "I like it that my subjects love me so much they can't help but to touch themselves!" she said with a soft laugh. Zowie was getting turned on by the fact she had caught this young man, probably still a virgin, beating off over one of her pictures. "Ma'am.. I.. I'm sorry!" he stammered, "I only came in to help. With the party. I... I just came in here and saw" He gestured to her painting with his head. "I know. You saw me. Do you think you're the only man in the kingdom that gets so hard when he looks at me that he has to relieve himself right there and then?" winked Zowie at him, talking softly, shifting in the chair she was sitting at to cause her massive breasts to wiggle. Zowie stood and approached the young man. She took him in her arms and squeezed him to her, pressing him against her massive soft breasts. The young teen groaned and whined, putting his arms around her tiny waist. His arms were trembling fiercely as he grabbed the princess. Zowie put her hand on the back of his head and gently pushed his face down into her bosom, his face pressing against her massive breasts. "Oh, I can't! I can't hold it anymore!" cried out the young man. He had been jacking off his hard dick still from looking at Zowie and her painting. Suddenly, he came. His young ripe penis erupted, sending shots of sperm-laden cum shooting out of his dick, splattering against the Princess and dripping down on the floor. His cum had landed on Zowie's dress, over one of her thighs. "O Ma'am! I'm so sorry!" he screamed. He looked so disturbed, Zowie was afraid he was going to cry. "Shh!" shushed Zowie, kissing his cheek. "It's OK!" Zowie dropped to her knees, taking his balls in one of her dainty left hands while beginning to stroke his deflating penis with her right hand. "It's OK!" she chanted softly. "I love you!" burst out the young man with the heat of emotion. Zowie smiled. "I know. I'm very glad you do. Most of my subjects love me as much as you do," she said softly. Zowie looked up at the teen. She was on her knees before him, his goddess-like princess on her knees in front of him. The young man groaned. He was young and horny, and his young cock was already starting to throb with activity, returning to life. Zowie leaned down and kissed the tip of his hard cock, sending a yelp of passion through the young man. "What's your name," cooed Zowie as she continued to stroke and kiss his rapidly hardening dick. "Stephan, Ma'am," he panted. "Well, Stephan, you have a nice dick. I like the way it tastes when I lick it. It's getting so big for me," cooed Zowie. She then took his whole hard cock into her mouth and began to suckle on him. She suckled young Stephan as he put his hands in her mountains of golden-brown hair. Zowie licked and licked, until her tongue began to feel sore. She moved to the tip of Stephan's hard throbbing cock and worked on that until she had him pitching and groaning with little fits of pleasure. Then she worked her way down the side of the big hard shaft. Zowie paused to kiss his belly and his balls and lick his crotch. She licked his crotch, his balls, holding up his heavy blood-filled dick, tasting sweat there. The hair of his thighs scratched her face. She detected a pitching in his young belly, and she knew that he was nearing his climax. She rocked her body slightly, working her lips over the head of his young powerful cock until the pitching in his belly and his cock reached the point that told her that the young teen was about to cum. Suddenly, with a warbling cry of passion, Stephan came. "Oh Princess!" He bellowed hotly. A giant glob of cum shot into Zowie's mouth. She swallowed fast and automatically as he slammed his hips in her face. Stephan let out a yell, and his body went through a giant spasm as his penis emptied itself in Zowie's mouth. Zowie swallowed Stephan's salty thick jizz and held his penis in her mouth for a few minutes as drips of sperm-laden cum continued to ooze out of his penis. She smacked her lips and mouth, swallowing his hot salty offering. Zowie didn't waste a drop of his youthful cream. Zowie was suddenly aware of the soreness and fullness of her own heavy breasts. She hadn't been milked in hours, and she needed some suckling to take the pressure of her quickly building up milk. She hated to express herself or squeeze the milk out and waste it on the ground. And she loved being suckled and feeding someone. Zowie stood up and sat back in the fancy armchair she had been sitting in earlier.Stephan was grabbing at his pants, pulling them back up, looking horribly embarrassed. "Are you embarrassed at having just had oral sex with me?" asked Zowie. Stephan looked up, shocked. "No, ma'am! No! It's just that I... I mean..." the young man was clearly in a state of shock and flustered beyond all comprehension. Zowie decided to stop tormenting him and be nice to him. "Come here to me," she commanded, her arms resting on the arms of the chair, her legs crossed. She didn't plan on Stephan entering her or cumming inside her. Ever since she married, she had not been taking the birth control potion made by her alchemist, Sheila. She wanted to bear Bonalot a child right away, and then she would go back to taking her potion and pleasing her loving subjects in as many ways as they wanted. Stephan walked stiffly and robotically forward. He was staring at her tight blouse in awe. "Lift up my blouse. Expose my breasts," said Zowie softly, reading his mind and giving him one of her huge bay window smiles, crinkling her freckly face into a smile of mirth and merriment. Stephan fell to his knees before her, collapsing at once, as if in prayer. His hands touched her legs and he began to run them up, bunching up her skirt. "Not my skirt, honey," cooed Zowie, lifting up Stephan's hands and placing the trembling paws on the sides of her immense breasts. They were shooting off her chest, proudly, defying gravity. Full and soft, heavy and shaped like fat raindrops. Stephan began to move his hands in little circles, grasping into her soft tit-flesh. His young teenage cock was easily coming back to life, jumping and trembling as the touch of Zowie's breasts returned it to life. "There!" groaned Zowie, exhaling with passion. She put her arms back down on the armrests of the chair, her head akimbo and bent to one side. She gazed upon Stephan with big soft eyes and a soft passionate smile. Stephan kissed at her tits through her blouse, pressing his face against the fabric. "Stephan!" she groaned so loudly and wantonly that the young man backed away with surprise. "Like this!" she cried out again, reaching down and ripping her own blouse upwards, up and over the massive curving ends of her own heavy hanging mammaries. Stephan let out a wordless cry of surprise and lust when he first saw Zowie's milky white tits. They were simply enormous, the size of watermelons, and they were pointing at him. The huge rounded ends were topped with massive pink nipples and enormous round areola. His cock was rigid and standing to attention as he knelt before the Princess; his dick pointing and throbbing at the objects of his gaze. "See? My breasts are so full of milk. I need a suckling," murmured Zowie, resting back in the chair. Zowie reached up and grasped the end of her right breast with her dainty hand; it barely even began to cover any significant portion of the front swelling of the boob. She squeezed it, and several droplets of precious milk oozed out of the enormous erect nipple atop the breast. Stephan lunged forward and put his mouth over the nipple that just oozed milk. He began to suck and suckle; heavy streams of rich, thick, creamy milk shot into his mouth. He was shocked at the content of milk that came shooting out, like a geyser. He swallowed as well as he could, but he couldn't keep up with the torrent of Zowie's rich buttermilk goodness, and it began to seep out his mouth, over his chin and down Zowie's front. Stephan drank and drank, belching as he gulped down air in a heated bid to gulp down all of Zowie's milk that he could. Zowie lay her head back and groaned. Her legs twitched and trembled as little orgasms shot through her. She loved being suckled. Her massive breasts were so sensitive, more sensitive than tiny breasts and much more sensitive than any breast that size should be. Stephan groaned as he continued to sup on Zowie's creamy milk. Teenage boys can eat and drink quite a bit, and Stephan was doing an admirable job in gulping down all of Zowie's milk. He even suckled her right breast so dry that it didn't seep with milk when he left it for her left breast. His hands grasped them, squished them together. He played with her heavy soft warm tits as he suckled her. Zowie sat quietly, enjoying being suckled, enjoying having a subject draining her of the milk that made her feel bulging and about to burst. Both Zowie and Stephan had lost track of the amount of time they had been sitting there. Zowie was shook out of her reverie by Stephan once again trying to hike up her skirt. He was holding his big hard erection in one hand and seemed intent on shoving it inside her. "No, Stephan, come here, honey," she cooed. She leaned forward, lifting her great heavy breasts. She pressed the ends of them into his crotch, the nipples skidding against his thighs, oozing warm milk over him. Stephan cried out as his enormous hard-on was lost in her cleavage. She leaned in to him until she was kissing his belly, rubbing her cheek against his tummy as she worked his hard cock with her soft tits. Stephan humped back against her chest. Her cleavage was so deep, he came nowhere near hitting her actual chest. His penis was buried deep in the bottomless chasm between her soft ivory breasts which jiggled and quivered with each one of his hard desperate thrusts. "Oh Princess! Oh Zowie!" barked Stephan. He humped harder and harder, slapping himself as hard as he could against her massive soft pillows of tender breast flesh. At last, he cried out, arching himself way back, pushing his penis against Zowie, against her tits. He screamed, and his cock shot out its pumping streams of cum. They splattered and splashed against Zowie, in the crack of her cleavage. Zowie pulled back a bit to allow the sperm to splash liberally all over her tits and chest. She looked down to watch his cum shoot out, ooze out, and then finally drip out on her boobs. Her left arm was underneath them, holding them up, making a huge shelf of soft tender breast-flesh. Stephan groaned and panted as Zowie leaned forward to clean the tip of his penis with her tongue. She licked his cock-head and squeezed his penis gently, coaxing the last drops of sperm-filled cum as the rest of his sperm ran and dripped down her insanely curvy body. "There! Now you'd better run along and help with the preparations for my party. I must be going," chirped Zowie, getting up and pulling her blouse down over her sticky chest and breasts. "Looks like I'll need a bath!" she laughed, winking at Stephan. "I can come and help you with your bath!" croaked out Stephan hurriedly. Zowie looked at him hard. She appreciated his young puppy love for her, but she didn't want to deal with his silliness all day long. "No, you must go now. We may meet again, who knows? You have a good dick there, maybe someday I might want it again," said Zowie. Stephan hung his head low; it was clear he was being dismissed. "Are you that unhappy with what you did get from me?" shot Zowie after him as she watched him mope toward the door. Stephan stood bolt upright and turned on her. He was in shock again. "Oh Princess, no! No! No! It's just that... um, I am happy! Oh, shit, wait until the guys hear about this!" he blurted out, closing his eyes, thinking he shouldn't have said the last bit. Zowie laughed. "That's better. And don't brag too much about what you got, sometimes those that brag never get anything to brag about again!" Zowie winked at him and gently guided him out of the little study. She watched him staggering off down the hall, even his youthful teenage balls were feeling a bit numb. Zowie sighed and walked up the narrow twisting spiral stair at the end of the hall that led to her own apartments. END

Puppy Love

Authors/simplexstories/Puppy Love.txt

MeatBot

A Gift For Dad

Zachary South lived with his father, in a nice house on a small family farm, out a ways from town. Zack didn't remember his mother; she'd disappeared long, long ago, when he was just two or three. "Stupid bitch," from what little his father had ever told him about her. They were better off without her. He got along well with his father, except for a few years when he was thirteen or so, but now that he was sixteen, everything seemed to be fine. Zack felt sorry for his father at times; the guy didn't really seem to have a life. He worked sixty hours a week, and the rest of the time he spent in front of the TV. Well, not really, he went to the gym a few times a week... and he hunted some... but he still didn't really seem to have a life. And he had never had but one girlfriend, in all the years Zack remembered. And now she was long gone. That's where the idea started, really. Zack tried to think of the women that he knew, and which ones might go out with his dad. As far as he could tell, though, all the women he knew were married or hooked up. "What to do, what to do," he thought. "There's gotta be something I can do." Zack had just become sexually active, himself. That's probably why this was on his mind so much. And all thanks to one girl. Serenity Smith. How he was lucky enough to ever end up with her, he wasn't sure. She was the foxiest, sexiest girl in the whole school, and she seemed to belong totally to him, for reasons he couldn't figure out. He was not a football star. He did not make straight A's. He didn't even have a nice car. Why the hell did she ever select him? He couldn't figure it out, he just ran with it. She was the best thing that'd ever happened to him. He knew that. She knew that. All his friends knew it, and they constantly reminded him of it. He knew that these were the best years of his life, and a small part of him mourned how empty and dead his life would be, when and if she finally tired of him and left him. He accepted the inevitability of that, in a way, and took what he could of her sweetness, living for the moment. He'd even been the one to pop her cherry. And, of course, she popped his too, his symbolic guy cherry. They had done it in the barn, up in the hayloft, on a chilly winter Saturday when his dad had been called back into work. It was everything he'd hoped it would be, sexy and fun and momentous... she came like crazy, and she'd smiled up at him after it was over, and he felt more love for her than he thought he could stand. He felt like the greatest stud in the world. She was so perfect. And she was all his. They fucked every chance they got, and she'd gotten her mother to get her on the pill, "just in case." Her dad didn't know, of course. Zack often wondered what his dad would think if he knew that his boy was fucking a girl, now. He knew his dad would be upset, but he liked to think he'd be a little proud, too. Especially when he met her, because she was such a fox. His dad wasn't an uptight religious nut, or anything like that... he knew his dad just wanted what was best for him. "She is," he thought. "She's what's best for me." One dark winter night he was talking to Serenity on his phone. She was being sweet, and slightly dirty, and he was idly jacking his cock as he listened to her. "Whatcha doin' now," she said. "Just listenin' to a girl yap," he said. "Are you touching it?" "Maybe..." "Does the sound of my voice get you off?" "Maybe..." "Jerk it... for me..." "Say something sexy, then." "Oh, I want you, Zack... I want your body... I want your cum on my face, your finger in my ass, and your fat dick in my cunt." "Jeezus..." "Jeezus what?" "You sound like a phone sex line." "How would you know that?" "So I've heard." "That wasn't sexy though?" "That was intensely fucking sexy, yes." "Did you cum?" "No, I haven't really started yet." "I'm touching mine, now." "Oh shit." "I'm rubbing my little clitty bump, and thinking about the last time we went up in the hayloft." "Oh shit." "Zack. You were very sweet. You made me cum and cum and cum. Nobody else has ever done that for me." "Oh shit. I hope not." "No, you are the only one. You are my only one. I stuck my finger in it, when I said that. Way in. Like where your cock-a-doodle-doo goes." "Oh shit." "Say something other than oh shit." "Oh fuck." "Fuck, Zack, we gotta get together again. Sometimes soon. This finger shit ain't really workin' for me. Is your dad gonna work Saturday? I'll ride my bike over, if he is." "Serenity, just come over no matter what. He won't know, and he wouldn't care if he did. We'll just disappear up into the hayloft. He won't have any idea where we are." "I can't be... noisy, though, if he's around." "Maybe you can not be noisy, Serenity." "I don't know if I can do that. I can't make any promises." "Serenity. Do you know any single available women my dad's age?" "No. Sorry. Why?" "He needs a girlfriend. He needs a life. All he does is work." "Work, and babysit you." "Pretty much. I'm tryin' to fix him up with somebody, but I can't find anybody." "I'll keep my eye peeled. Did you put an ad on Craigslist?" "No... I'm not that desperate yet..." "Well, shit." "Yes. Shit." "I gotta go, Zack. Dinner's ready." "Night. I love you." "Night. I love you." Zack hung up, and finished, thinking of Serenity. She was just too much. She was the sexiest thing alive. "Maybe this weekend," he thought. "Maybe she'll come over this weekend. Shit. I should have saved it." She did come over, that weekend. And to his delight, his dad went to a gun show with his buddies. He waited impatiently for Serenity to show up. She finally came down the lane, on her bike, and he was at the gate. "We got two hours at least, get your ass up in the hayloft," he said, and she stared at him, her mouth opened. "Well," she finally said. "Pleased to meet you, too." "Come on, Serenity. I'll lick you... we got time for me to lick you..." Serenity liked being licked. She dropped her bike, and he followed her up into the hayloft. They had glorious, wonderful sex for two hours, with lots of licking. Finally they cuddled up under an old quilt, and feeling the delightful smooth feeling of naked body rubbing against naked body. After a while a truck came down the hill, and turned into the drive. "Oh, shit!" he said, jumping up. "It's my dad!" He furiously started getting dressed. "I thought you said he wouldn't care. He wouldn't know, you said." "Well, let's not tempt fate. Serenity. Put your clothes on, and let's go in and see him. You've never met him, right?" "I've never met him right." she said, slowly pulling her panties up. He found her bra and turned it inside out for her. She turned her bra back the way it was supposed to be. "Why must I meet him?" she asked. "Because you will be part of the family someday," he said, hoping with all his might. "I see. Well, okay. But what if he doesn't like me?" "He'll like you. He'll like the shit out of you." Zack was right. His dad, Ben, liked the shit out of her. She was pretty likeable, so that wasn't surprising. He asked her to stay for dinner, and he even talked to her mom when she called home to ask. All was fine. Then he decided there was nothing suitable to fix, so he ended up taking them out to a fancy restaurant. At the end of the evening, he let Zack take her home in the truck, so he could take her bicycle, also.They sat in her driveway, separated by a reasonable distance, just in case someone was peeking out a window. "So, what'd you think? Are you gonna help me find him a girlfriend?" "Oh, yes, I suppose so. I'll keep my eye peeled, like I said." "It is very important that she be likable to me, too. I don't wanna live with a bitch if they hook up." "Yes, I will keep that in mind. Any other requirements?" "She must be fairly foxy and pleasant to look at. I don't wanna have to see an old crone all the time." "You will have me. That is not a strict requirement." "Okay, okay. Just pick out somebody you'd like to live with." "Me? Suddenly it's all on me?" "No, I'm still looking, too. Do you know Miss Crane, at school? Do you know if she's shacked up or anything?" "I do not possess that information. She's kind of a bitch, though." "Yes, I thought so too. Just thinking." "Well, I'll think too. But I'm much more interested about when we can hook up again." "Maybe tomorrow afternoon?" "Tomorrow is what, Sunday?" "Yes." "Possibly. Let me consult my calendar," she said. She looked at her phone. After a moment, she said, "Yes. Sunday is good. If my Mom says I can." "Serenity. You are sixteen years old. Does your mom still have to tell you what you can and can't do?" "Yes, since she is the guardian of my precious virginity. She has veto power." "Heh," he said, thinking of her precious long-gone virginity. That was something he thought of every day, something he would remember for a long, long time. He was proud of that one. He did good. "Goodnight, darling. I love you, I love you, I love you." "Goodnight. I love you too." A quick chaste little kiss, and he drove home, bemused, and thinking furiously. His dad. It was a challenge, now. "Dad." "What." "You ever thought about getting another girlfriend?" A few seconds of silence. "Yeah, hell yeah. It just hasn't happened yet. It will, eventually." "I think it'd be good for you." "Yeah, yeah. I do work a lot, though. My time is limited." "You don't have to, but you do, yes." "I do, yes." "Well, me and Serenity... are kinda looking for one, for you." There. He just came out and said it. Some laughter. "You guys are looking for me? A girlfriend? Well, thank you. Please let me know when you find her." "It's not that funny. Serenity agrees with me, she thinks you need somebody. Everybody needs somebody." "True. Well, thanks. I appreciate the thought." "You're welcome." "Your girlfriend is quite the little prize. You are very lucky." "Yeah, I know. She tells me that. Everybody tells me that." "She's very cute. And I could tell she's smart, too." "Yes, she's very smart. Possibly too smart." "Well, she's smart enough to pick a good boyfriend. You are a good guy. I'm sure you treat her right." "Yes, I have no choice. I don't dare lose her, I'll never find another like her, I know." "Well, just treat her right, and maybe she'll stick around." "Yeah." "If I was twenty years younger... I'd be fighting you tooth and nail for her." "Heh. Yeah, dad. Like you'd have a chance." "Hey. I was quite the ladies' man, back in the day." "Yeah, and look at the loser you picked." "Well, that one was an accident." "Dad... was I an accident?" "No, I didn't mean it like that. No, you were planned, and expected. And appreciated." "Okay. Thanks." "You're welcome." Sadly, Serenity did not get to come over Sunday afternoon. She had family crap to do, she said. He understood. Maybe next time. She did agree to go get something to eat after school with him the next day. At least she wasn't embarrassed to be seen in his stupid car with him. The anti-makeout-mobile, as he thought of it. It had no back seat. Just a ledge thing, and then the trunk opened into it. What was that shit, he thought. Who thought that shit up? What's a kid supposed to do? When Zack finally fixed his dad up, a few weeks later, it was a disaster. The woman, a friend of Serenity's mother, was nice looking, but so totally anal about everything the date was a disaster. His dad came home early, shaking his head. The woman had picked about the food, and sent it back to the kitchen three or four times. She bitched because he did not park the car straight, and her door would hit the car beside it, which it probably would have done even if it were straight. She adjusted his collar several times, and freaked because a small piece of tape was stuck on the tip of his shoe. It just went on and on, and Zack and he had a good laugh over it. "I will probably do my own selecting, from now on," his dad finally said, and Zack sighed. "Just tryin' to help, dad," he said, and his father nodded. "Appreciated. But let's just let it happen naturally, instead of rushing it." "Okay." That Thursday, he took Serenity to Hardlee's, in his car. They sat in a booth for an hour, and talked. She finally scooted all the way over, and cuddled against him. He put his hands around her and pulled her to him. "Zack. I been thinkin'," she said, and he nodded. "I knew you would start, at some point," he said. "Really. I been thinkin' serious shit," "Yes, I suppose that is inevitable, once you start thinking." "Fuck you. Listen to me. This is very serious, and may have long-term ramifications to our relationship, if you take it wrong." "Okay..." what the fuck was she jabbering about? "Zack. I been thinkin' seriously about something, since I met your dad. Your dad is very cool. I like him a lot." "Yes, he is cool. He's a nice guy." "Zack... please don't take this wrong. Please, please. I almost don't have the nerve to say it to you, I don't want to screw up things between us. But I think I know you well enough, though. I think you understand me. And I think we love each other enough. We have a strong love, Zack, a one in a million. Strong enough to stand almost anything. Right?" "Right, yes. True. I do love you, Serenity." "I love you, too. I want what you want. I want you to be happy, and because you want it, I want your dad to be happy." "Thank you. You are the sweetest ever, Serenity. I love you forever." "I love you forever, too. That's why I'm gonna ask you this." "Okay..." "Zack. Just to give him hope, and to give him something to keep him going... let me fuck your father." Amazingly, it didn't really shock him that bad. It didn't make him mad, or crush him, or anything. Maybe I'm in shock, he thought. Maybe she's just joking. He looked at her. She looked uncharacteristically serious. Maybe not. He thought about it. She was right, his love for her was strong enough. It didn't even freak him out to think of his father fucking her. His father was a hardbody, for an old fart. He didn't even have a beer belly, or much in the way of love handles. She would just climb on top of him and ride him like a rodeo bronc, he knew. He realized that in his mind he'd already accepted it. If that's what she really wanted... That gave him some thought, though. Did she want this just for his father, or did she want some of it for herself, too? Was she wondering, after fucking him, what it would be like to fuck somebody else? And so what if she was, he thought... he'd wondered what it was like, too... but he didn't care enough to fuck up what he had with her for it. Will this fuck us up? he thought. It won't from my side. What if they fall in love? Hah hah. Fat chance. He's twenty something years older than her. This will just be a quick jump in the sack... assuming it's just this once. I love her enough to share her, he thought. I am not freaked out. I am not fucking freaked out over this. "Serenity," he finally said, hugging her harder. "I love you. I appreciate what you are offering. I know my dad would appreciate it, if we can get him to accept it. It will not fuck up our relationship, I don't think. I will still love you more than anything in the world. And I don't think you will leave me for him. But, I'd still get to see you every day if you did." She poked him hard in the stomach. "Don't make jokes. This is very serious," she said. "Yes, I agree. It's serious. And, I say yes. If you can figure out a way to get him to do it, you may fuck my dad. I give you my permission. Can I watch?" "Fuck you," she growled. "Now, help me think of a way to break it to him." A week passed on that one. Zack drew a blank, every time Serenity talked about it. Which was pretty much every time they met. Zack realized that he'd have to admit to his dad that he was making love to her, first. Probably. Either that, or admit his girlfriend was not a virgin when he was. Well, that could happen. But, he decided, it would be easier to just admit it. He thought it would make his dad more likely to go for it. Finally, they settled on a plan, of sorts. Next Saturday night, Serenity would come over, early, and spend the evening with him and his dad. She would be loving and rub about on his dad innocently, kind of get him hot and bothered. Then, with enough time left in the evening for her to do it, and get home at a reasonable hour, they could do it, while Zack watched TV or something. Zack did not get to watch, she stressed. He understood. "Okay," Zack said. "At some point this week I'm gonna break the news to him that we've been making love for a while." "Yes, good idea. Only, do not say 'fucking'. Say 'making love' or something silly like that." "Yes, making love sounds much better. I'll remember that."" The other important thing was that Serenity get to spend enough time with the South family for all this to occur. They were talking on the phone when she told Zack her scheme. "I have talked to Chastity Zoer. She's a pretty good friend anyway, and she has agreed to cover for me with my mom. I've spent the night with her before, and I think I can pull it off this time. You can take me over to her house in the morning, and my mom can come and get me there. I have already told her that the four of us..." "There are only three of us at this point, if you're staying with her," he said. "No, there are four. She has a boyfriend, too. And my mom knows that her mom is even freakier about rapist rambos than she is. She'll let me go out with you because she knows that Chastity's mom will be keeping an eye on us and all that." "Serenity. Does your mom even know I exist?" "Hell yeah. She's seen you in the driveway before. I've told her all about you. Well, almost all." "Okay." "Anyway... Zack... if your dad goes for it, after I do him and take a shower... I can spend the night in your bed, right?" Oh, hell yeah. That would be too cool. Yes, the shower part would probably be a necessity, for all involved. He didn't want to be sliding around on his dad's cum. Ugh. Still, that would be cool, to have her in his bed. "Serenity. When we go away to college, this is gonna be so cool. We'll get to do this shit every night. Hell, maybe we can even move in together." "Shit. Yeah. Except that first year, you have to stay in the dorms at Northwest." "Yes. We'll work something out. It'll be killer, though." "Yeah." "So, you'll be over about six, Saturday night? Or will we actually have to go to a movie?" "No, Chastity and Herb are actually going to a movie, he's picking her up, and they are supposedly going to meet us there. So her mom will not actually know if we are there or not. She will just have to trust us." "Heh," he said. "Yes," she said. "Heh." The closer it got to Saturday, the more nervous Zack got. He finally realized Thursday night that there just wasn't any time left. He just had to tell his dad. That night, as they ate two TV dinners in front of the TV, he finally started the ball rolling. "Dad," he said. "Hit the mute." His dad did, and then waited. "Dad," Zack said, summoning up his courage. "I gotta tell you something. I think you deserve to know. I respect you that much." Butter him up good, he thought. "Okay..." Ben said, sounding a bit puzzled. "Dad... I just want you to know... Serenity and I love each other very much... she is the one for me, I know it... it's not just puppy love... Dad... for a while now, we've been... making out. Pretty heavy..." "Okay..." his dad just stared at him. Shit, thought Zack. "I'm trying to say... we've made love... I think you deserve to know that... but don't worry, she's on the pill... nothing will happen..." "Zack. Thank you for confiding in me," his dad said. "Although I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with this knowledge. You are sure she's protected? Do you guys have any idea how much a baby would screw up your lives?" "Yes... I think we do. Yes, she takes her pill every day..." "Well, all I can say is welcome to the adult world. I'm not going to give you a lecture. In this day, I suppose it's inevitable that you kids start early. Are her parents aware of this?" "Hell no," Zack laughed. "Well, be very aware of that. They might not take to kindly to you having your way with her. That is one thing to be very careful of." "Yes, I'm... aware. We are careful. And we don't do it a lot..." "Well, good luck to you. I hope you're right, Zack... I hope she's the one. She is very sweet, a very nice girl." Oh, thought Zack, you don't know the half of it. But you will, you will. "Dad," he said. His dad raised an eyebrow. "Sixteen is not young, anymore. Most of my friends got their cherries popped when they were thirteen or fourteen. I'm in the minority." "Well, thanks for waiting this long." "When did you?" "When did I what, lose my virginity?" "Yeah. How old were you." "Well... I almost hate to say it, but I was just fifteen. To a miss Lydia Bynes. The girl that should have been your mother." "Heh." he was surprised his dad had admitted he was younger than he was. That is cool, then, he thought. "Zack. Just keep in mind that you're young, and you have your whole life ahead of you. There's college, and all that. If you do tie yourself up, make sure it's with the right person." "Yeah, dad. I will. I have, I am. I'm sure she's the right one. I just hope she keeps thinking that." "Well, it does take two. But, if she is the right one, she'll stick around." They small talked for a while longer, and Zack thought it had gone well. His dad did not freak. He did not ground him. He did not take the anti-makeout-mobile away. He just accepted it and moved on. Good, good. Maybe we do have a chance, he thought. That Friday, he talked to Serenity again, at length, about what they were planning on. They were sitting in McDerp's, this time. "And you are sure?" he asked, wanting to give her an out, before the thing got underway. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure. I'm a bit nervous, now that it's this close." "Yeah, me too." "What if he freaks? What if he yells, and tells me to get out? What if he calls me a whore or something?" "Serenity," he paused. He didn't know how to really get this part across. He'd just say it. "Serenity, my dad is not like that. I've never seen him get mad, except that time somebody put shit in our mailbox. He won't call you anything. If he doesn't agree with it, he'll just say no. I know him that well, at least. He'll just say no, and go on with his life." "And I'll be embarrassed for the rest of mine. How can I ever face him again, if he says no?" she asked. He fervently hoped that wasn't true. He didn't want to lose her, if his dad said no. He didn't even want to take the smallest chance of it. "You can face him. He won't treat you any different. He's a seriously nice guy, Serenity. He'll love you for it, for just offering, even if he says no, I think." He really thought that, too. "Shit. Well, okay, let's do it." She came over about three. She brought a small bag with her, and they left it in his car. They played around outside for a while, he took her down to the pond, and the potato patch, or where it used to be, and they just wandered the farm for a while. They finally found his dad, working on a mower in the barn, and sat and talked with him for a long time. Zack felt like the progression of events had started. He could tell his dad really liked Serenity, his dad was noticeably different around her, to someone who knew him well. He was louder and funnier, and more animated. Pretty girls just do that, Zack knew. And this one was the prettiest one of all. He idly wondered if his dad was jealous, now that he knew Zack was doing her. He kind of hoped he was. Finally, five-ish, they went inside, and his dad cooked a large country-style breakfast, for dinner. Serenity ate like she was famished, and they both laughed at her. "When you gotta be home?" his dad asked her. She and Zack traded glances. "Well," she said. "I don't actually have to be home tonight. I'm spending the night with my friend Chastity. We might all go see a movie later, we haven't decided yet." "I see," his dad said. "Just making conversation." Serenity and Zack moved to the couch, and watched TV for a while. His dad finally came in with a gun, and Serenity shrieked. His dad laughed. "Just cleaning it," he said, and proceeded to take the gun apart. Serenity got up and went over and watched him, and he explained all the parts and how it worked and all that. They are getting along just fine, Zack thought. Good. She was her usual feisty self, and she picked at his dad some, making him laugh and weakly defend himself from her verbal sparring. Zack could tell he loved just talking to the girl. Just you wait, he thought. Just you wait until she's sitting on your face. We'll see who does the talking, then. Zack was stunned a few minutes later to look over and see his dad sitting in his big chair, with Serenity perched on his lap. Goddam, he thought, that girl moves quick. He quickly glanced back to the TV, not wanting his dad to think he was mad or anything. He pretended like it didn't bother him, and it actually didn't. This is his night, he thought. I'll get some sloppy seconds, later, but now, this is his night. He idly wondered if his dad ever jerked off, or had wet dreams. He might be pretty full of the stuff, Zack thought. Serenity lay back again Ben's body, comfortable. She liked him, she really liked him. She now liked him second only to his son. Even her own family came in way third. If he just says yes, she thought. This will work out perfectly if he just says yes. Father and son. This will be kind of cool, actually. She thought of, what if the situation were reversed? Could she sit comfortably on the couch at home, knowing that Zack was fixing to fuck her mother? No, she could not. That would not work at all. She was glad Zack loved her enough to let her do this. She was surprised at herself, at how eager she was to try somebody else. But Zack's father was the only person she'd ever actually consider doing. Anybody else wouldn't be fair to him. She turned on his lap, and cuddled into him a little more.He didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, and she took them, one at a time, and draped them over her stomach. Her hard flat stomach. He pressed them, palms down, into her stomach. It felt good. Zack pretended to go to sleep. He even snored a little. He desperately wanted to know what they were doing, but he didn't want to spoil it. He didn't figure his dad would just outright take advantage of him sleeping to feel off his girlfriend, but he figured that Serenity would realize why he was pretending and make the best of it. He almost thought he heard her whispering. Well, somebody was whispering. He was right. It was her. She had leaned back and was whispering into Ben's ear. He had a hard time even listening to her, it was such an intense experience for him, feeling her lips touch his ear and her hot breath literally entering his ear canal. Damn, he thought, this girl. Damn. Ben wasn't even a part-time pedophile. Well, that's not fair, she certainly wasn't a kid. She had an incredible figure, to him, slim sexy flat stomach, which he'd just rubbed, by the way, nice plump hips and thighs, and the sexiest, pert, perky little boobs he'd seen in a long time. That kid is lucky, he thought, dipping his wick into something this delectable. That kid is damn lucky, I hope he realizes it. "Mr. South," she whispered, and he stopped her right then and there. "Ben," he whispered. "Ben." "Yes, Ben," she whispered. "I want you to know that I love your son very much. I love him more than life. I love him more than I even love myself, if you can believe that." They both giggled at that. "I just want you to know that I'll never mistreat him. I will be the perfect mate to him. I will love him until we are old people, and we will die on the same day, just because we can't stand to be apart." "I understand," he whispered back, feeling her ear on his lips. God, he thought, that is sexy. Just her ear is sexier than fuck. He wanted to stick his tongue in it so bad it hurt. He was suddenly aware of his erection, almost pushing into the crack of her ass. Oh, shit, he thought. "Just wanted you to know," she said, and then she kissed him, right on his ear. Oh shit, he thought again. Oh shit. I am gonna cream my jeans if this girl don't get off me. He didn't want her to get off, though. They just lay there for the longest time, while Zack slept. Well, Serenity didn't think he was really asleep. She thought he was taking the easy way out, on this part of it. She was right. Ben's hands were still flat on her flat stomach. Just her belly felt sexier than shit to him. He thought about sticking his finger in her belly button, just so he could say something of his had been inside her body, but he didn't. He didn't want to be intrusive. He didn't want to freak her out. She finally put her hands over his, and just held them. He was content. He didn't figure she'd done it for any reason. He was aware, though, when she slowly scooted their hands upwards. Further and further up, towards her fabulous tits. Finally, he could feel the underside of her breasts, against the back and sides of his hands. She felt nice and soft. He wondered if she was aware of where his hands were. Yes, she was aware. She wanted to just plop his hands on her tits, but she realized that was probably moving a bit too quick. She thought the same thing that Zack thought, that he probably wouldn't take advantage of his son's girlfriend. And, they were both right, he wouldn't have. It was eight o'clock. Zack finally pretended to wake up. He went to the kitchen and got some Pepsis. They sat around and drank, and Serenity finally stretched and sat up. She slowly crawled off Ben's lap and sat on the couch beside Zack. "Ben," she said softly, and he gave her his full attention. Oh, shit, thought Zack. Here we go. "Ben, I came over tonight for a special reason," she said, and he nodded. "Zack and I have been thinking, thinking a long time on this. And we've decided to do something about it. It's something that means a lot to him, and because of that it means a lot to me." "Okay..." Ben said. Oh shit, he thought. They want to get married. Oh shit. "We know that you haven't had a girlfriend in a long time. Zack says years. You're an adult man, and you have needs. You know that. It's not normal, to go that long. It's not good for you, mentally or whatever." What the fuck? he thought, nonplussed. Is this about me, or them? "Ben. We've decided, we've decided on something to help you, until you do get a girlfriend. And you will, eventually, we all know that. It just hasn't happened yet. But, until then... until you do... Ben... we wanna offer... we wanna offer me, to you. I want to. Zack and I. We want you to make love to me." Oh, holy fucking shit, he thought. What the fuck. That is what this is all about? Me? Me, and my inability to have a meaningful relationship with the opposite sex? Hell, to have a relationship period with the opposite sex. Shit. Shit. His mind raced. In spite of that, he didn't know what to say. They just sat and stared at him. One part of his mind did have the presence of mind to think, oh, hell yeah. I'd do that. "Kids..." he finally said. "I'm not sure if you realize what you're saying, what you're doing... but, before we go any further, thank you. Thanks for thinking of me. But I can't do that, you know it, and I know it. I cannot take advantage of you, Serenity. I just can't. It's not done, it doesn't work that way. You two are a sweet couple. I don't want to screw that up." "You won't, dad," Zack said. "We've given this a lot of thought. You won't." "It'll..." Serenity said. "Mr. South. If anything, it'll make what we have stronger. It'll make us... more of a family." "Darlin'," he laughed at that one. "My little dear, sex does not cement families together. Love cements families together. Sex usually destroys families." "It won't ours. Dad. We love each other that much," Zack said. "Zack... Serenity..." he was exasperated. "You're just a couple of kids, my apologies... but you're just a couple of kids. Life is way different than what I think you guys think it is. People just don't do things like this. Well, maybe hillbillies do... but normal people do not." "Dad," Zack said. "We are not normal people. We love each other more than what is normal. We love each other strong enough to get through this. Like she said, it'll just make us stronger." "Mr. South," she said. He laughed, interrupting her. "So it's back to Mr. South? What happened to Ben?" "Okay. Ben," she said. "Think of this as a gift. Accept it in the spirit that it's given in. Just for tonight, forget everything, and enjoy yourself. I have confidence in my ability to make you enjoy yourself. Please. Do this for me, for Zack, and most of all for yourself. Make yourself happy. And give me a little happiness, too. Zack... we'll worry about Zack, later." Ben South sighed. He didn't feel like he was getting through to these two. He knew his son was slightly stubborn, but, in the short time he'd known her, he could tell this girl took stubbornness to a new level. He knew she was going to be tough. He didn't want to send her home disappointed, embarrassed and possibly mess up the kid's relationship. But he knew he couldn't do what they were asking. "Guys... thanks again... I appreciate it greatly, and yes, I admit I'd love it... but I just can't. Understand? I just can't." "You can, Ben," said Serenity, stubbornly. How right I was, he thought. "You can do it. We wouldn't ask you to do it if we didn't have some confidence that we could make you see it from our point of view. Listen. There's nothing wrong with what we ask. We are all adults. We are in command and control of our bodies. Take some pleasure from me, please. Zack will stay in here and watch TV, and you and I can just go in your bedroom for an hour or two. It's okay. Nothing bad will come of it." "Actually," Ben said, "You guys are not adults. Not for another two years." "That's a silly law," said Serenity. "Yes, I believe we are adults. We can drive, we can think, we can decide our destinies. We are old enough to have sex, and we're old enough to decide who we have sex with." "Shit," Zack was surprised to hear his father cuss. That's a first, he thought. Ben continued. "I just can't. I wouldn't be able to keep from seeing Zack's face. Honestly, I'm not sure I could... get it up," he was embarrassed to say those words in front of a teenage girl, but he did. Although, he didn't think they were true. "Hey," said Serenity. "What I felt underneath me, when I was on your lap? I don't think you'll have a problem." He did get embarrassed, at that. It had been that obvious? He hadn't thought so. Well, it was true. He knew he'd have no trouble getting it up. He'd just said that to try and head them off. "Sex is a serious business," he said. "You guys think you're experts at it just because you've had a few rolls in the hayloft. Yes, I found your love nest, a few weeks ago. I'm not an idiot. Sex is more than just... fucking. The emotional parts of it are much more important, and delicate. Sex causes hidden entanglements in people's lives, it mixes things all up. It causes unseen problems, problems that lie low for years, and then spring up, totally fucking up people's lives. I don't want to take a chance on any of that, with you guys. You guys have a beautiful thing going. Don't fuck it up. Don't do this." "Ben," said Serenity. "You are right about a lot of that. And I don't think I'm an expert at anything. But, in the end, I believe what I said, what Zack said. Our love is strong enough.And this will only make it stronger. If we all agree to that, and agree to work out any problem that may arise, we can do this without worries. I think that. I think that we can. "Shit," he said, bowing his head, shaking it. "Shit." "Dad," said Zack. "Do this for me. For yourself, and me. Don't cheapen Serenity's offer. Just say yes... please?" Ben sighed again. He really didn't know what to do. He didn't, in good conscience, feel like he could accept the offer. And these kids did have something. Maybe they were right, maybe it would just make their love stronger. He'd never heard of such a thing working out, but it's not something you'd hear of. You just heard about the bad ones. "Shit," he said again, and looked at Serenity. Her eyes bored into his soul. "You are a very persuasive young lady." "It's because what I'm saying is right. Deep inside, somewhere, you know that. We can do this, and get over it. And you'll enjoy it. Come on. Let's go in the bedroom." He just laughed, again. "Come on, dad. Admit it. She's a fox, and you'd like to do her," Zack said. Shit, thought Ben. Can't deny that one. She is a fox. He stood, and then sat back down. His mind was in turmoil. What's the worst, he thought, the worst fucking thing that could come of this? Well, I could go to jail, she's a minor. That's the worst. Second worst? Her and Zack could break up over it. That's the thing that'd almost be worse than jail. Do you think their love is really that strong? he asked himself. Could it survive, if she gave herself to me? If she fucked me? "Okay," he said. "I admit it, freely. I'd love nothing more than to make love to you, darling. But I can't, not legally. You're only sixteen. Haven't you ever heard the phrase, sixteen will get you twenty?" Serenity just snorted. "Somebody'd have to know, for that to be true. No one will ever know, trust me." "Weirdly," he said, "I do trust you. But, still... it's a risk, for many reasons." "Well," said Zack, "It's not a risk for relationship reasons. It won't affect our relationship, not Serenity's and mine. And I don't think, in the long run, it'll affect mine, and yours, dad. Or Serenity's, and yours." "Shit," his dad said, for about the hundredth time that evening. They sat for a while, in silence. "Well," said Serenity brightly, "It's decided, then. Zack, please make yourself comfortable. We'll be out in a few hours." Ben laughed. "Nothing is decided, little darlin'," he said. "Come on, dad," said Zack. "You know you want to. You already admitted it." "Yeah..." said Ben. "But... still... it's just not right." "Oh!" said Serenity, annoyed. "What's right and wrong, anyway? If it's what we all want to do, let's do it. We'll iron the crap out, later." That made him laugh again. Things were so cut and dried, for the young. He thought again... exactly why can't I do this, again? Other than minor details, like it being illegal... Serenity stood, and went over to his chair, and crawled up into his lap again. This time she faced him, though, and she lay on him, her chest against his, her legs spread apart over his, her head beside his head. He heard her whisper, and felt her hot breath in his ear, again. His penis betrayed him, and began to get hard again. "Darling..." she whispered. "Do this, then, for the wrong reasons. Do it just for me. Let me know what a man feels like inside me. Ben. Please. Fuck me." Shit. He had always thought he was a strong man. Mentally, and physically. But then, a luscious young girl on his lap, literally straddling his legs... he knew suddenly they had won. With an almost palpable relief, he knew he was going to taste her tonight. Nothing left but to mop up the details, he thought. He wrapped his arms around her midsection, and hugged her to his body. She felt so nice, so soft and warm. He hungered for her. He knew anybody would have done it for him. At this stage? After this long? Almost anybody would have been good enough. But this? This perfect thing? This luscious, delectable creature? How the hell will I keep from cumming, he thought. Hell, I'll be lucky to get my pants off. I'll wash her away. The three of them were silent for a while. Zack was half-way pretending to be asleep again. Ben just lay there, drinking in her beauty, filling his nose with her delicate scent. His cock was as hard as diamond, he thought. He wondered if she could feel it, again. He kind of hoped she could. She finally sat up, on him. She put a hand on each shoulder, and leaned her hips forward. He felt her grinding into his hard cock. Shit, he thought. Shit. That feels so good it hurts. She ground hard, again. And again. There was no doubt what she was doing, what she was feeling. She leaned forward so far he thought she was going to kiss him. He looked over to Zack, on the couch. He couldn't see his eyes. The damn boy looked asleep, again. I'm getting a fucking X-rated lap dance from his girlfriend, and he's fucking asleep. She whispered right into his face, and he could feel her sweet breath on his lips, nose and eyes. "Ben. Come to bed," was all she said. She got up, and headed for his bedroom. How the fuck does she even know where my bedroom is? he thought. What the fuck, what the fuck. He stood, and followed her. She suddenly seemed shy and coy, after the door was closed. After they were alone. "Darling," he said. "Are you sure about this? Damn sure?" She stubbornly nodded her head. "Yes," she said. "Damn sure." She stood up from his bed, and kicked her jeans down her legs. Her shirt went in the floor. She looked at him, clad in just some sexy pink panties, and a sexier-than-shit black low-cut bra. "Ben. Take my clothes off," she commanded, and he obeyed. His hands were trembling, he realized. He reached around her, and fumbled with the fastener to her bra. It finally came undone, and she held out her arms. He slid her bra down them, and his breath caught in his throat. Her beauty almost brought him to his knees. Her breasts were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Full, round, luscious... two huge fat puffy nipples topped them. He could just imagine what they were going to feel like, in his mouth. Shit, he thought. Her nipples are actually as big as some whole breasts I have seen. Shit, shit. He dropped to his knees in front of her. He hooked a thumb on each side of her panties, and slowly walked them down her legs. He wanted this to last a good long time. Her little pussy came into view, and he thought, I'm gonna die. I'm just gonna fuckin' die. She was shaved, except for a little patch right above her pussy. She was smooth, damn smooth, he could tell without even touching her that she'd shaved this morning. My lips, he thought, my lips are going to feel that smoothness. For as long as I can get away with it. Goddam. Goddam. Her panties were at her ankles. He slowly leaned forward, and rested his forehead on her veneris mons. He could smell her. His nose was less than an inch from her cunt, of course he could smell her. Damn, she smelled good. She smelled like heaven. He'd never smelled anything this good in his life. Jeezus, he thought. Take me now. I am dying. He stuck his tongue out, and licked down her slit as far as he could. She tasted even better than she smelled. He pushed his tongue into her, tasting that indefinable taste that was pussy. He'd never had one this good before. He wasn't a stranger to pussy, he'd had his glory days. But he never remembered it being this good. She sat on the bed, and scooted over to the middle of it. He dropped his shirt on the floor, and then his pants. He felt no embarrassment, he was too excited at this stage. He kicked his briefs off, and his cock stood out at a ninety degree angle. Maybe up a few degrees. Serenity looked at his cock, and was pleased. This is number two for me, she thought. After this, I won't need to count. This will be enough. One for the money, two for the show. Whatever my subconscious meant by that. Dunno. She was pleased that he wasn't a monster, or he wasn't a midget. That thing looks just about right, she thought. She was already wondering what it would feel like in her mouth. It looked hard, damn hard. Zack got pretty hard, but this one looked almost a little harder. She wondered again how long it'd been for him. He approached the bed, and climbed onto it. She knew what he was going to do. She leaned back against the pillow, and prepared herself for some major pleasure. Surely, at his age, she thought, he is an old pro at licking pussy. I'm sure I'll be cumming, in just a few. He fooled her, though. He went for her tits, first. Well, she thought, warm-up round. Her breasts were just the most wonderful thing he'd ever touched. They were soft, and firm. They were incredible. And those nipples. Those nipples gave him goose bumps. Full, and fat... they rose a full inch or more from the end of her breast... just incredible. He licked and sucked, feeling their fatness in his mouth. He tasted just the slightest of tastes, of her body, then... a delicate perfume or body wash of some kind... a tiny, sexy hint of sweat... her tastes and smells turned him on beyond belief. Just amazing. The minutes rolled past. He was content to suck on her tits. He squeezed and kneaded them, feeling their firm softness... he was in heaven. Totally in heaven. What a crime, he thought, to hide these. To put on a shirt every day and hide these. She could rule the world, with these damn things. She's certainly gonna rule mine, from now on. He'd sucked on some nice tits before, but none as nice as these.He finally slid and licked his way down past her smooth, tight stomach, past her cute little belly button, to her pussy proper. The gates of heaven. He was insanely turned on. Ben liked pussy, he was a big fan of it. He was all for it. And this one was way sweeter than any he'd ever had. He spread her pussy lips apart with his fingers and just stared, entranced. What a cute fucking pussy, he thought. That is just too cute. Lovely. I'm out of words already. He touched his tongue to her fat little clit. The little bud of flesh almost felt hard beneath his tongue. He flicked and licked it, feeling her squirm beneath him. She was so turned on that she just blew up in a minute or less. She came hard, her whole body trembling and shaking, her legs almost pounding the mattress. She was gasping for breath, and she was sure that she had made some embarrassing noises. She couldn't remember. But it was good, damn good. He was good. Like she'd thought, he was a pro. And he was still licking. Most of their time together, that's all they did. That would have been enough for him, just to taste her sweetness. He licked her pussy until it didn't have any flavor left. He inhaled her, he just sucked her in. He loved her more than he ever thought possible. He was almost sorry to think that this might be the only time they'd do this. He wouldn't beg, but shit. Gimme a month or two, he thought, and let's do this shit again. He laughed at himself. He hadn't even finished the first time, and he was worrying about the second. Her pussy was incredible to him. Soft and sweet... not to mention that taste. It all came together and just blew his mind. She's walking around this world, he thought, with this in her pants. In-fucking-credible. He licked down her pussy lips, and she lifted her ass off the bed and spread her ass cheeks with her hands. He touched her asshole with his tongue. Oh my fuckin' god, he thought. And I thought her pussy was out of this world. Her asshole was just too much. He licked her little puckered hole, just loving the shit out of it. It tasted different, but every bit as good as her pussy had. I could eat this every day, he thought. Until I die. Damn, damn, damn. She finally grabbed his head and pulled him up to where she was. They just lay for the longest time, him holding her body. She felt soft and warm and just everything to him. He loved her, he just held her and loved her. He'd never loved this hard before. He'd never loved this deeply. He wondered how deeply her and Zack loved each other, if it even approached what he felt for her, now. He hoped so. Now that he'd gone this far, he hoped so. He could still back out, he knew. He hadn't fucked her yet. He could put on his clothes and walk away. Well, a stronger man could. He wasn't sure if he was that strong. She was the most powerful drug he'd ever taken. Well, she was actually the only drug he'd ever taken... she had a powerful hold on him. He hoped what she and Zack had was as strong. He hoped, as much as he loved her, he hoped that he wouldn't regret this someday. He finally kissed her. She giggled, and kissed back. She crawled on top of him, and they kissed. She rubbed his rock-hard cock with her sweet, bare, smooth pussy, and they kissed. He finally felt his cock fit right into her pussy, and he thought, damn. There we go. Just like magic. "Oh no, you're not," she said, and pulled away from him. She scooted down his body. "Now it's my turn," she said. "You got to play, now let me. Before we fuck, let me." She engulfed his hardness in her wet, soft mouth. He almost came, then. Shit. This was going to be hard. He knew, though, he knew he was so turned on he'd still be able to fuck her, even if he came in her mouth. He realized it was inevitable. He was going to cum pretty quick, with sensations like this coming from his cock. "Baby," he said. "I'm gonna cum pretty quick if you keep that up." "Mmph," she said. He took that as "okay". Don't fight it, he thought. Relax. It'll last longer if you relax. He relaxed, as hard as he could. He did last a good long time, he thought. Finally, though, he felt it, and he touched her shoulder to let her know. She nodded, and with a giant jerk, he filled her mouth with semen. Again and again, he squirted, and she gulped it down. He could tell that her level of experience was still a bit low, but she did a good job. Even bad blowjobs were good, he knew. He loved it, though, as much as he loved her. It was the sexiest blowjob he'd ever had. By the sexiest girl, that was for sure. After it was over, she crawled back up his body, and he held her again. She finally turned her face to his, and they kissed again. He tasted his own sperm on her tongue, as he licked it. Ordinarily, he thought, that would disgust me. But now, in her mouth? That is the sexiest shit ever. His dick was still half hard. It had never gone down, he realized. Getting hard again was probably not going to be a problem. Thirty minutes later, they were still kissing. He was content. If all we did was this, it would be good enough, he thought, aware that he'd told himself that about eating her pussy, also. Even this, even just this. She finally began squirming around on him, and he realized that she was trying to find his cock with her pussy. He reached down and guided it, and finally he felt her pussy lips on the head of his dick. She was on top, so he let her set the pace. She pushed back against him, and he felt her pussy lips spreading as his cock entered her body. Damn, it felt good. She was tight, she was fucking tight. Jeezus. She almost turned his dick inside out, she was so tight. She could still be virgin, he thought. Fuck. At last, he was all the way in. She rested for a moment, and then she bucked, and he felt his cock slide out, and back in. His cock felt so hard he couldn't believe he'd cum less than an hour ago. She certainly brought out the best in him. She settled on a nice, even pace, and they began to fuck. This is what fucking is supposed to feel like, he thought. I had it wrong all these years. This is it. This is perfect. Just let me hang on. After a while, he carefully rolled her over, so that she was on bottom. Almost without breaking pace, even. She sighed and moaned, and he realized that she was cumming just a little bit. He pumped away, glad to make her feel so good. One thing I can still do right, he thought. She finally came again, big time. He just kept pounding. Let's see just how fuckin' orgasmic you are, he thought. He felt like he could go all night. He was glad he'd cum in her mouth, now. It had helped immensely. He was good to go, now. After maybe ten minutes, she came again. And again, later. Damn, he thought. She's good. She can just let go, and enjoy herself. She already has a good handle on that. He'd known women that could hardly cum at all, women that were a chore to fuck, for that reason. Of course, he always got the blame when they couldn't manage to cum. But this one... damn... she had it down, already. He knew she was confident, and strong-willed. She doesn't know any better, he thought. You're supposed to cum, so she cums. It's that easy for her. Finally, after what felt like an hour, he knew he was approaching the wall. Time to cum, he thought. Time to cum. He relaxed what he needed to relax, and tensed up what he needed to tense up. The next time she came, which seemed to be coming faster and faster, he finally let himself go, and squirted his seed deep inside her body. Again and again... damn... just like when she'd sucked him... he didn't know he had that much, in his whole body. They lay, exhausted, spent. He rolled, and held her on top of his body, his arms on her back. He looked at the clock. It was past two. Jeezus. They'd been at this for hours. He wanted more, but he knew fair was fair. She'd held her end of the bargain. He had to give her up, now. "Darling," he said softly, his mouth at her ear. "Thank you. I know that's not enough, but thank you. There is no way I can repay you, all I can do is say thank you." She turned and smiled at him. "Thank you," she said. "That was wonderful. You are very good. I enjoyed myself, greatly." "Oh, not nearly as much as I enjoyed you," he said, laughing. "Darling. I hate to tell you bye, but you need to go out and wake up Zack. Tell him thanks, for me. And, again, thank you. You are the loveliest thing in the world. Thank you for a taste. I will never forget this." "Oh..." she said, smiling. "You're making it sound like we're never gonna do it again!" He didn't dare hope. He didn't know if he could stand it again, if his heart could take it. But he knew he'd try. She kissed him softly. "We'll do this every now and then," she said. "Maybe once a week or so. We'll see what works out." He gently kissed her. Just a little smooch. She sighed, and sat up. She crawled off him, and collected her clothes from the floor. He watched her slide her panties up, and wiggle them into place. She didn't put her bra on, and she didn't button up her shirt. He was excited all over again to see her tits, inside her shirt. He felt like he was getting away with something, to peek at her. He remembered well the feeling of those fat nipples in his mouth. He knew he'd never forget it. She picked up her jeans, and stood for a moment, looking down at him. She suddenly leaned over the bed and took his penis in her mouth, sucking hard and running out to the end of it with her lips. She stood. "You had some shit on it," she explained, "Not shit shit. Cum or something." He nodded. She stopped at the door, and turned again. "Goodnight, Mr."South," she said simply, and was gone. She shut the door behind her. Shit. He lay back, tired. Sunday tomorrow. He'd sleep late. He hoped Zack could get up and get her to her friend's house in time. He set the alarm on his phone, just in case. Damn, he thought. That was exhausting. But worth it. What a girl, what a girl. He had to do something special for those kids, he mused. He had to let them know how much he appreciated that. How much he needed that. The room was dark. Serenity snuggled beneath the comforter, feeling Zack's naked body beside her. Her hair was wet, she'd taken a quick shower and tried to wash all the cum out of her pussy. She was full of the shit. He must not have cum in years, she thought. She felt comfortable. She felt no regrets. It went well, she'd told Zack, after she'd woke him up. He yawned and blinked, and listened to her quick run-down of the evening's events. He didn't need to hear details. She just gave him an outline. "Darling." "What?" "Are we okay, then?" "Yeah. We're okay. You okay?" "Yeah. I'm okay. I told him something, though. I should have checked with you first, but I just said it... kinda spur of the momentish..." "Yeah..." "I said maybe we'd do that... once a weekish... is that okay with you?" "Hell yeah. It's okay." "You're really okay with all this." "Yes. I'm really okay with all this." "You are a good son. How many sons would do that, for their dad?" "Yeah. I know. You are a good girlfriend. How many girlfriends would do that, for their boyfriend's father?" "Probably not very many. Yes, we are good little children." "Your mom wouldn't think so." "Fuck my mom." "Not a fucking chance. Now, Serenity. Either fuck me, or let's go to sleep. Are you too tired to fuck?" "Fuck no. Fuck, no. Hey, Zack. Let's fuck!"

Authors/MeatBot/AGiftForDad - Mf mf.txt

Stormbringer

Doctor Bitch

Кэтрин pressed the horn of her BMW, waiting for the old fart with a cane to cross the park. People on the street stared at her until she released the horn and sped off. She suppressed the urge to show the old fool the middle finger as he passed by her car. Кэтрин was having a bad day, and not just this one. The guy who cleaned her pool and the boy who mowed her lawn had just refused to work for her, saying she constantly criticized their work. On top of that, her husband, a doctor, had agreed to do some charity work and conduct medical exams for some of the city's homeless residents. He had done it at one shelter and decided he didn't like it, so he asked her to do a free checkup at another shelter. She hated working with people who were below her status, but the tax deduction for such work was too good to pass up. But more than all these rude drivers, unnecessary charity, and bums, her home problems were driving her crazy. The doctor hadn't touched her in three months, and she constantly felt aroused. Кэтрин parked her Beemer in the alley next to the shelter and went inside the building. There were about a dozen homeless men milling around and waiting for her. A small office, connected to a bedroom, was to be used for the examination. There was an old bearded man who was going to assist her. "What can I do to help you, Doc?" the assistant asked. Кэтрин looked him over and smirked slightly. The words "useless hippie do-gooder" flashed through her mind. "Just tell the men to strip down to their underwear and line up at the door. Then you can go and do whatever you usually do here." The arrogant bitch, the man thought, but he just nodded and left the room. Кэтрин fastened her medical coat and found that it tightly gripped her large, round breasts. She heard the assistant yelling at the homeless men to line up as she pulled on rubber gloves. Some of the bums grumbled about dinner, and she guessed they weren't allowed to eat until they had the medical exam. She took a deep breath of the shelter air and grabbed a mask to dispel the unpleasant smell of unwashed men. Кэтрин opened the door and rolled her eyes. Most of the men weren't wearing any underwear, and she felt like she was being punished for some past transgression. "Come in," she said, gesturing to the first guy in line. The old man shuffled slowly into the room and stood in place as she filled out his medical chart. She learned his name, medical history, and asked him to turn around and bend over, then she ran her hands over his back. She pulled a chair up and sat in front of him. His underwear was dirty and full of holes. She took his testicles, reaching under his underwear, and asked him to cough. He giggled, and she felt disgusted as his little penis started to move. She hadn't seen her husband's erection in several months, and this only angered her more. "Next," she yelled, shoving the old man out of the room. The next man was a toothless old black man who giggled throughout the exam. She had never examined a black person before and wrinkled her nose each time she touched him. Кэтрин pulled her chair up to him and gasped. He wasn't wearing any underwear, and his penis was the largest she had ever seen. It slightly rose and was seven inches long. She grabbed his balls, and the huge penis grew until it was staring straight at her masked mouth. My God, she thought. It must be nine inches. "Sorry," said the black man. "My giant has never been touched by a pretty white lady." "Next," she yelled, shoving him out of the room. She heard a few of the bums applaud when they saw his erection. Кэтрин briefly wished her husband had a penis that big, or at least one that got hard. Either way, God must have given this black man something to make up for what he had taken from him in life. Кэтрин examined a few more white bums before the next black man appeared before her. Now that's a penis, she thought, seeing the monstrous appendage swinging between his legs. The man was about forty-five, and aside from his penis, he was nothing special. She was in a daze as she examined him, as the image of his large black club wouldn't leave her mind. It only reminded her of how aroused she was. Кэтрин sat and cupped his balls. His member immediately became as hard as steel. It was probably eight inches long and the thickest thing she had ever seen. "Don't I need to lift my head and cough?" he asked with a smirk on his face. Embarrassed, Кэтрин realized she had been staring at his organ. It was also pointed at her mouth, and the man was making small thrusting motions, as if imagining her sucking him. She was glad for the mask. Angry and disgusted, she shoved him out the door. The next patient was a white man whose penis was even more laughable than her husband's. She guessed it was no bigger than her thumb when it fell out of the hole in his underwear. As she neared the end of the exams, Кэтрин summarized some of her observations. She had examined six white and four black men so far. The white men's penises ranged from four to six inches, and only one was slightly erect. None of the black men had a penis less than seven inches, and they were all thicker and heavier than the whites. She remembered hearing rumors that black men had larger members than whites, but she had dismissed it as nonsense. Suddenly, she was eagerly anticipating seeing the next black penis. Кэтрин's mood only worsened as the evening wore on. She was tired of seeing and smelling all these bums. She also had a feeling she was being played. All the men, except one, had penises larger than her husband's, and with the black men, it only took a touch to make them rock hard. She had everything she could ever want, but was stuck with a husband whose limp noodle was only five inches long. Life was just so unfair. Кэтрин sighed and pulled the next medical chart. She didn't even look at the second-to-last bum who entered the room and said, "Name?" "Big D." "Your real name?" she said, looking at him. Кэтрин nearly choked when she saw this man. He was a handsome young black man, not long out of his teens. She saw his well-defined chest bulging under his tight shirt. He was the first black man she had examined who was wearing underwear, and it looked like it was about to burst from the size of the penis contained within. "Dannell Jackson," he answered, admiring her slender body hidden under the white medical coat. Her brown hair was pulled back in a conservative style, and she wore glasses on her nose. Big D decided she was the type of woman who was ashamed of her body and constantly resented the attention men gave her. Usually, deep down, such women were whores just waiting for an excuse to come out. Кэтрин filled out the medical chart and said, "Please remove your shirt." She watched as he slowly peeled off his shirt, revealing an extremely well-muscled chest. He's certainly healthy in the front, she thought. She made him turn around and bend over, touching his back. Кэтрин shivered as she felt his muscular back under her fingers, running them along his spine. "Please remove your underwear," she told him. Кэтрин sat in her medical chair and watched as he stripped completely naked. His buttocks were as firm as the rest of his body, and when he turned around, she gasped at the sight of his penis. It was the largest she had seen, and in its flaccid state, it hung between his legs, reaching seven inches in length. Кэтрин reached for his testicles, but his monstrous penis blocked her view. She swallowed and reached with her other hand to lift and move the penis aside. At her touch, his massive member immediately became fully erect, standing straight up and pointing directly at her mouth. "T-turn your head and cough," she stammered, staring at his enormous penis. "Ten inches, if you're curious," Dannell said after coughing. Now she understood why he called himself Big D, looking at the thick black sausage only inches from her face. Кэтрин shook her head to clear it and said, "I'm not interested in how big your penis is." "Why you so mad?" he asked, looking down at her. "Well, if you must know, the guys who cleaned my pool and mowed my lawn just quit on me."Не говоря уже о том, что вторник - мой единственный выходной, и мне приходится заниматься благотворительной работой, вместо того, чтобы лежать у бассейна. И день у меня сегодня хреновый, и ты можешь одеваться и валить отсюда. Кэтрин закончила заполнять бланк Даннелла. Голова Кэтрин зачесалась, и она сняла перчатки, чтобы почесать её. Кэтрин не могла сконцентрироваться на заполнении бланков, продолжая думать об идеальном обнажённом теле Биг Ди перед ней, словно это был какой-то античный бог. Она знала, что никогда не будет изменять мужу, особенно с чёрным мужиком, но она не могла не думать о том, каково это, заниматься любовью с таким большим пенисом. Ей было тридцать два года, и она приближалась к своему сексуальному пику. Кэтрин смутилась, поняв, что немного возбудилась из-за сегодняшних событий, но она списала это на отсутствие внимания от мужа. Кэтрин заметила рядом присутствие какого-то большого человека и сказала "Имя". "Конь". "Настоящее имя". "Просто Конь, мэм." Кэтрин вздохнула и встала. Она написала Хорс (Конь) на месте имени, и взглянула на мужчину в комнате. Её сердце сжалось от страха, когда она увидела его. Это был огромнейший мужчина с самым уродливым и грубым лицом из всех, что она встречала в жизни. В высоту он достигал как минимум шести с половиной футов. Ей пришлось напрячь шею, чтобы взглянуть ему в лицо. Он был настолько уродлив, насколько Даннелл был симпатичным. Кожа Хорса была тёмно-чёрной по сравнению со светло-коричневой кожей Даннелла. Его нос был плоским и выглядел так, словно в прошлом его сломали. Присутствие Хорса рядом с ней излучало исключительную мощь. Её затрясло от страха, и ещё от кое чего. Кэтрин оглядела его тело. У него была подтянутая грудь бойца, и сложен он был как боксёр тяжеловес. Он был весь покрыт мускулами, и их было так много, что казалось, мускулы у него сидят на мускулах. Её взгляд опустился ниже к его животу и промежности. Она сглотнула, представив, какой у него может быть пенис. Она не была разочарована. Черная змея, как она и думала, выглядела как питон или анаконда. Его пенис в длину был 11 дюймов, и по толщине такой же, как её запястье. Он был твёрд и такой большой, что из-за своего веса слегка провисал к полу. Кожа на нём была такая же черная, как и кожа на теле от кончика до основания, в отличие от члена Биг Ди, у которого головка была чуть светлее, чем ствол. Даннелл также был обрезан, а Хорс нет. Его залупа выглядывающая из-под крайней плоти, была большой как слива, и из-за крайней плоти, она стала сравнивать его член с коброй, а не с питоном. Кэтрин тряхнула головой, чтобы освежить мысли, и попросила его развернуться и наклониться. Он был такой большой, что ей пришлось опереться на его задницу, чтобы прощупать руками спину. Она с удивлением заметила, что Даннелл стоит за Хорсом, ухмыляясь ей. Он ещё не оделся и его пенис всё ещё стоял. "Ты почему ещё здесь?", - спросила она. "Я просто жду своего приятеля", - ответил он. Кэтрин села на стул и попросила Хорса развернуться. Она покачала головой, не веря своим глазам, когда его пенис возник перед её лицом. Как и Даннелу, ей пришлось поднять член, чтобы добраться до его яичек. Она протянула руку и взялась за его крайнюю плоть. Она мягко заскользила, и головка его пениса полностью показалась. Капля преякулята вышла из дырочки, и из неё стало сочиться ещё больше жидкости. Преякулята, вышедшего с его конца, было так много, как при обычном оргазме её мужа, и она поняла, что для такого ненормально большого члена требуется много смазки. Потом, к своему ужасу, Кэтрин осознала, что не надела перчатки после того, как почесала голову, и теперь она трогает неприкрытыми руками мужской пенис, не принадлежащий её мужу, впервые в жизни. Она испытывала отвращение, прикасаясь к пенису бездомного чёрного мужчины, но не могла отпустить его, и решила, что лучше так и завершить осмотр. Она подняла его пенис и сжала его яйца. Они по размеру вполне подходили его сексуальному органу. Его яйца висели низко, оттягивая мошонку вниз, напоминая два небольших апельсина. Между пальцев руки, которой она держала его пенис, был промежуток в полдюйма, и когда она отпустила его яйца, она поняла, что промежуток увеличивается. Кэтрин в очередной раз не поверила своим глазам. Его пенис свисал не из-за тяжести, а из-за того, что не полностью стоял! Он вырос ещё на два дюйма, достигнув в длину 13 дюймов. В стоячем состоянии, он слегка был приподнят вверх, как у всех остальных чернокожих мужчин, его член, казалось, направлен прямо ей в рот. Кэтрин вдруг представила, как Хорс делает толчок вперёд бёдрами, и его могучий пенис прорывает её маску и врывается ей прямо в рот. Хорс усмехнулся, и Кэтрин ужаснулась, увидев, как её рука непроизвольно подрачивает его ствол. Её поглаживания вызвали выход ещё большего количества преякулята из его члена, и теперь вся его головка была смазана. Устыдившись своего поведения, она выпустила его пенис, раскрасневшись от смущения. Пенис, казалось, парил перед её лицом, бросая вызов гравитации. Кэтрин опустила голову вниз, тяжело дыша. Когда она подняла голову, Биг Ди приблизился и встал рядом с Хорсом. Оба их больших пениса были направлены прямо ей в лицо. "Ну, док", - спросил Даннелл, "с нами всё в порядке?" "Вы оба совершенно здоровы. И вы не выглядите, как бездомные", - сказала Кэтрин, проверяя свои часы. Она удивилась, поняв, что потратила на Хорса с Даннеллом полчаса, в то время как на всех остальных тратила в среднем не больше пяти минут. Как она могла не замечать времени? Она испытала облегчение и в то же время сожаление, когда мужчины начали одеваться. "Понимаете, док", - сказал Даннелл, натягивая майку. "Мы с Хорсом потеряли нашу работу на стройке, и нас в тот же день выселили". Оба они и Даннелл и Хорс не скрывали свои члены до самой последней минуты. Эта сексуальная, белая сука так сильно нуждалась в том, чтобы её оттрахали, что он мог поклясться, что ощущал запах её текущей киски. "Да, мы с Хорсом строили дома и выполняли работы по обустройству дворов, пока нас не уволили". Он подмигнул удивлённому Хорсу. Они никогда раньше не занимались благоустройством дворов. Кэтрин облегчённо выдохнула, когда их члены исчезли в их джинсах. Она не могла припомнить, когда в последний раз была так возбуждена, и подумала, что даже если бы пенис её мужа встал, он бы не удовлетворил её. Кэтрин собрала свои вещи и сказала "Ладно, желаю удачи вам обоим... Ты сказал, что вы занимались благоустройством дворов?" "Да, мы часто это делали, чистили бассейны, строили, делали почти всё". Кэтрин знала, что выдавать личную информацию, опасно, но она и правда нуждалась в работниках, чтобы следить за своим двором. "Вы, ребята, не против, позаботиться о моём дворе и бассейне, пока я не найду кого-то на постоянную работу? Мой муж этим не занимается". "Конечно, это было бы здорово", - сказал Даннелл. "Вы бы помогли нам тогда подняться на ноги". "Хорошо", - сказала Кэтрин, написав свой адрес на листке бумаги, и передав его Даннеллу. "Приходите утром в среду, и я открою для вас сарай". "Мы придём, как только встанет солнце", - сказал Даннелл. "Только работайте действительно хорошо, и я хорошо вас вознагражу", - сказала Кэтрин, хватая свои ключи, и направляясь к выходу. "Леди", - сказал Хорс, с пустым выражением лица, "как только мы пострижём вашу лужайку, вы не захотите, чтобы это делал кто-то другой". Кэтрин кивнула им и вышла. "Я хочу выебать её", - сказал Хорс, смотря ей вслед. Даннелл уже слышал эти слова, и знал, что от него требуется. "Просто следуй моим инструкциям". Кэтрин села в свой БМВ и поехала домой. У неё была привычка грызть ногти, когда она о чём-то сильно задумывалась, и она грызла их пока вела машину. Проблема с её двором и бассейном была решена с помощью этих двух негров. Возможно, она сможет списать их работу на ещё один налоговый вычет. Она ощутила какой-то вкус на своём пальце, когда укусила ноготь, и слизала что-то языком. Это было что-то солёненькое, и она слизала всё, что налипло ей на пальцы. Вкус ей понравился. Это было что-то знакомое и новое в то же время. Озадаченная, она вынула пальцы изо рта и взглянула на них. Тошнота поднялась к горлу, когда она увидела, что её пальцы были покрыты преякулятом Хорса. Она едва избежала аварии, когда резко набрала скорость и устремилась к ближайшему магазину, чтобы купить жидкость для полоскания рта. ********** Кэтрин вздохнула, поставив свой напиток на пол рядом с бассейном и усевшись на свой шезлонг. Она потянулась с чувством и легла на спину. Она подняла свой стакан и сделала глоток Маргариты, это был уже третий её стакан за сегодняшний день, и она наслаждалась своим выходным днём. Вторник был единственным днём недели, к которому она не испытывала ненависть. Шесть дней она проводила в больнице и семь ночей со своим немощным мужем, но во вторник она могла залить свои несчастья и расслабиться у бассейна в бикини, которое едва прикрывало её сочную фигуру. На прошлой неделе, она потеряла свой выходной, осматривая бездомных в приюте. Она была огорчена не только тем, что пропустила свой выходной, когда могла позагорать, но и тем, какой эффект произвёл на неё осмотр. Каждый раз, когОна тряхнула головой, пытаясь стряхнуть их образ, а потом снова открыла глаза, они всё ещё были там. Кэтрин закричала. "Извините, что напугали вас", - сказал Даннелл. "Это, должно быть, из-за вашего сна". Он прошёлся взглядом по тонкой материи её бикини. Её соски были чётко очерчены под топом. Они были длинными, полными и вставшими от желания. Её ноги были разведены, и он мог видеть, что её трусики намокли от возбуждения. "Что вы здесь делаете?" - спросила она, отчаянно разыскивая полотенце, чтобы прикрыть своё почти обнажённое тело. Выражение лица Хорса напугало её. Она не надевала это бикини даже перед мужем, не говоря уже о незнакомцах. Она теперь кляла себя, что не удосужилась взять полотенце. "Вы сказали прийти сегодня и постричь вашу лужайку", - уверенно сказал Даннелл. "Нет", - сказала она сердито. "Я точно помню, что сказала вам, прийти в среду". Кэтрин была разочарована, что её единственный выходной был потревожен, и в то же время смущена, что мечтала об этих двух чёрных мужчинах. Она увидела, что ни один из них не был одет в рубашку или футболку, и пот блестел на их мускулистых грудных клетках. "Прости, док", - ответил Даннелл. "Ты сказала вторник, и что ты встретишь нас у бассейна. А потом ты покажешь, где лежит оборудование для стрижки газона". Кэтрин нахмурила брови. Жара и Маргарита определённо повлияли на неё. Она не могла трезво мыслить. Она помнила, что сказала в среду, но тогда, откуда они знали, что она будет у бассейна? Неужели вид их гигантских пенисов так сильно затуманил её разум? "Ладно, раз уж пришли", - сдалась она, - "я покажу вам, где всё находится". Она встала и попыталась растянуть своё бикини, чтобы побольше прикрыть своё тело. Они смотрели на неё, и она сдалась, увидев, что из-за этого тонкая ткань бикини становится только прозрачнее. "Идите за мной", - сказала она, направляясь к сараю. Кэтрин сглотнула, представив, как они сейчас пялятся на стринги, впившиеся ей в задницу между ягодиц. Она даже удивилась, поймав себя на том, что виляет бёдрами, и остановилась, как только поняла, что делает. Кэтрин показала двум неграм, где находится газонокосилка и удалилась. Она чувствовала их взгляды на своём полураздетом теле, всё время, пока шла к дому. Она зашла в дом и поднялась наверх, чтобы переодеться во что-то не столь откровенное. Она встала перед зеркалом в полный рост и посмотрела на своё тело. Она знала, что обладает фигурой, которая сводит с ума мужчин, но при этом всегда прятала тело, стараясь делать так, чтобы к ней относились серьёзно. Она взглянула на большие, упругие груди, которые так высоко выпирали над её стройным животиком, что казалось, что её топ вот-вот лопнет от растяжения. По всему телу у неё был хороший загар, за исключением небольших белых пятен в области вокруг сосков, и вокруг её хорошо выбритых лобковых волос. Лицо у неё было красивым, выглядело молодо, за исключением небольших морщинок под глазами, которые появлялись, когда она улыбалась, чего она, в любом случае, почти никогда не делала. В её длинных каштановых волосах не появилось и намёка на седину, и её карие глаза сверкали в зеркале. Если бы она не стала доктором, она бы с лёгкостью стала стриптизёршей или моделью нижнего белья, это если бы ей нравилось показывать своё тело... Понравилось ли ей показывать своё тело? Кэтрин была смущена в начале, но то, как два чернокожих мужчины пялились на неё, на самом деле, возбудило её. Её муж не смотрел на неё так уже несколько лет, и ей было приятно чувствовать себя желанной. Она решила не переодеваться, оставшись в бикини, и, может быть, подразнить их, лишь чуть-чуть. Что плохого может быть в небольшом флирте? Она налила ещё одну Маргариту и вернулась на своё место у бассейна. Выпив полстакана, она почувствовала себя пьяненькой и осмелела. Даннелл косил газон, а Хорс подравнивал кусты ножницами. Им понадобилось часа два, чтобы привести в порядок газон. Даннелл зашёл ей за спину, исчезнув из поля зрения, но приблизившись к ней, а Хорс и так был рядом, подстригая куст. Кэтрин закончила свою Маргариту и потянулась. Она сразу же заметила, что привлекла внимание Хорса, и наконец, поняла, почему некоторые женщины любят использовать своё тело, чтобы контролировать мужчин. Она пошла к душевой возле бассейна и встала под душ, включив воду. Она не слышала больше звуков садовых ножниц, и догадалась, что Хорс наблюдает за её маленьким шоу. Она услышала, как газонокосилка выехала из-за угла и внезапно остановилась. Она представила, как два негра смотрят, как вода стекает по её спине и между её ягодиц. Она носила это бикини, потому что оно было таким тонким, что сквозь его ткань даже просачивалось солнце, и когда она повернулась, она знала, что оно стало полностью прозрачным, а не просто мокрым. Она посмотрела на мужчин сквозь полуоткрытые глаза. Они определённо смотрели на неё, и она смогла разглядеть очертания чудовищного пениса Хорса, набухшего в его джинсах. Она стала на цыпочки и откинула голову назад под душем, позволив воде растекаться по оттопыренным грудям. Дрожь пробежала по телу Кэтрин, когда она поняла, какое воздействие оказывает на двух своих наблюдателей. Почему она не дразнила мужчин раньше? Это была самая сексуальная дрожь в её жизни, и её соски затвердели как камни от возбуждения. Она поняла, что ей не раз придётся делать это снова, пока её красота не улетучилась навсегда. Зачем она только впустую потратила свои молодые годы, прикрывая тело? Кэтрин выключила душ, представляя, как будет в будущем дразнить мужчин. Она решила, что на следующий день в больнице расстегнёт одну пуговицу на кофточке, и сделает вид, что не заметила. Она усмехнулась, представляя выражение лиц докторов и пациентов, когда им, наконец, откроется небольшой вид на её декольте. Она вернулась к своему шезлонгу. Негры стояли и с вожделением смотрели на неё, когда она прошла мимо них в своём прозрачном купальнике. "Так, мальчики", - сказал она, "Я плачу вам не за то, чтобы вы просто сидели". Взгляд Хорса неожиданно от вожделения стал выражать злость, и ей не секунду показалось, что может быть, она слегка увлеклась. Мальчики! Вот же охуевшая расистка, белая сука, подумал Хорс, продолжив стричь кусты. Он протянул руку вниз и поправил член в штанах. Она не может просто дразнить меня и не поплатиться за это. Он оглянулся. Кэтрин развела ноги и смазывала лосьоном для загара внутреннюю часть бёдер. Он увидел, как её руки поднялись к её животу и груди. Эта сука получит трах всей своей жизни, подумал он, я не собираюсь спрашивать у неё разрешения. Кэтрин была в полусонном состоянии к тому времени, когда они всё закончили. Она продолжала втирать лосьон в тело, больше чем было нужно, не прекращая дразнить двух чернокожих мужчин. В конце концов, комбинация: массаж, алкоголь и солнце - заставила её задремать на шезлонге. Два гигантских мускулистых чёрных человека встали перед ней, пот блестел на их мышцах. Она подумала, что ей это, наверное, снова снится, пока не поняла, что Даннелл и Хорс стоят над ней, пытаясь привлечь её внимание. Кэтрин тряхнула головой, жалея, что так много выпила сегодня. "Мадам, мы хотим поинтересоваться, нельзя ли нам воспользоваться вашим бассейном, чтобы освежиться", - сказал Биг Ди. "Мы закончили, но было чертовски жарко". Кэтрин не понравилась мысль о том, что два потных, бездомных негра будут плескаться в её бассейне, но она была слишком пьяна и не хотела спорить. "Хорошо, но только быстро". Даннелл переглянулся с Хорсом, и она увидела, как он расстегнул джинсы и медленно спустил змейку. Она ахнула, когда его красивый, обрезанный пенис вырвался из его штанов, твёрдый, как цемент, вокруг бассейна. Она посмотрела на Хорса, он уже спустил свои трусы, обнажив массивное чёрное чудовище, которое называлось пенисом. Он был даже больше и чернее, чем она запомнила с прошлой недели. Это напугало её, и она воскликнула: "Минутку. Вы что это удумали..." "Извини", - сказал Даннелл. "У нас нет плавок, а ты же доктор. Ты всё равно видишь такие членяры каждый день". Членяры! Да, это был более подходящий термин для чего-то такого большого, подумала она. У её мужа был пенис, а у этих двоих пенисы настолько были больше, чем у мужа, что термин членяра подходил явно лучше. "Нет", - сказал она заплетающимся языком. "Я не вижу такое каждый день". Кэтрин увидела, как их чёрные члены болтаются и трепыхаются перед ними, пока они направлялись к бассейну. Они прыгнули в него и начали играть в воде. Кэтрин захотелось разглядеть их получше, поэтому она встала с шезлонга, подошла и села на край бассейна, свесив ноги в воду. Теперь это почти походило на то, что они дразнили её, подумала она. Оба мужчины встали, и вода потекла по их телам, а члены торчали из воды, как две чёрные морские змеи. Невозможно, их члены оставались твёрдыми в холодной воде. Она часто видела, как переодевается её муж после купания, и его член так сильно сжимался, что напоминал маленького червячка, пытающегося заползти в яму. Биг Ди подплыл к тому месту, где она свесила ноги. Кэтрин не могла оторвать глаз от гладкой, чёрной фигуры, рассекающей воду в её направлении. Он встал перед ней, его член оказался у неё между ног. "Мадам", - сказал Даннелл, "вам нужно прыгнуть в воду и освежиться. Вы же не хДаннелл схватил её за руку и потащил в глубь бассейна. Хорс плеснул на неё водой, и она плеснула на него в ответ. Вскоре они все втроём вели себя как дети в воде. Кэтрин понимала, что это неправильно - играть в воде с двумя голыми чёрными мужчинами, почти вдвое её моложе, но она и правда повеселилась и стала снова ощущать себя молодой. Она радовалась, что у неё был частный двор, без всяких любопытных соседей поблизости. "У тебя красивое тело, Кэтрин", - сказал Даннелл после того, как они сделали паузу, чтобы отдохнуть. "Ну, спасибо, я знаю", - сказала она, хватая ртом воздух и видя, как Хорс подплывает к ней сзади. "И меня зовут Кэтрин, а не Кэт". "Хорошо", - сказал он. "Знаешь, это несправедливо, что ты в одежде, а мы голые". "Ну, вам просто нужно найти плавки, потому что я не раздеваюсь", - сказала она, засмеявшись. Она остановилась, задумавшись, как давно она так искренне смеялась? "Ну, тогда не могла бы ты просто встать, так чтобы я мог получше разглядеть твоё горячее тело?", - спросил он. "Мне кажется, тебе нравится показывать своё тело". Кэтрин улыбнулась, сидя на мелководье. Ей нравилось показывать своё тело этим мужчинам, и она решила, что ничего плохого не случится, поэтому встала перед Биг Ди. Вода стекала по её телу, и она смотрела, как он жадно оглядывает её. "Ну что, тебе нравится?" "Да мне нравится", - сказал он. "Ты самая горячая белая сучка из всех, что я видел. Развернись, чтобы я мог разглядеть твою попку". Кэтрин повернулась, услышав, как присвистнул Даннелл. Хорс встал перед ней, его лицо совершенно ничего не выражало, за исключением того, что ноздри на его плоском носу широко раздувались. Он почти всё время молчал, и она даже решила, что он возможно дурачок или что-то такое. Он был огромным, страшным человеком с тринадцатидюймовым членом, торчащим перед ним. И снова, она ощутила страстное желание упасть на колени, и поэтому она снова быстро отвернулась. Когда она снова повернулась к нему, Даннелл немедленно сказал "Положи руки на бёдра". На его лице появилась самодовольная улыбка, когда она практически сразу повиновалась ему. Он ещё не встречал женщину, которой бы не понравилось подчиняться ему, особенно после того, как она увидела его член. Кэтрин тяжело задышала, когда Даннелл провёл её через целую серию поз, выделяющих достоинства её фигуры. Она так привыкла руководить своим мужем и больничным персоналом, что теперь ей было приятно выполнять то, что ей говорят, для разнообразия. Это казалось совершенно естественным для неё, подчиняться приказам Даннелла, к тому же ей нравилось демонстрировать своё тело. Что плохого может случиться? "Теперь положи руки на голову и выгни спину", - приказал Даннелл. Кэтрин выставила вперёд грудь и положила руки на голову. Она закричала от неожиданности, когда мясистая рука Хорса схватила её за запястья, не отпуская их и держа вместе. Никогда в жизни она не ощущала такую силу, и он прижал её к своей груди. "Стоп", - закричала она. "Вы что творите?" Она почувствовала, как свободной рукой Хорс развязал топ бикини, и взмолилась "Даннелл, пожалуйста, помоги". Даннелл подплыл к сопротивляющейся женщине. Она брыкалась ногами, и он схватил их. Она в ужасе посмотрела на него, когда он сорвал с неё стринги. Она пыталась брыкаться и кричать, но Даннелл и Хорс без труда удерживали её. Даннелл потянул её за ноги, пока её тело не оказалось растянутым между ним и Хорсом, на воде. Кэтрин была напугана, извиваясь в их руках, полностью смятая их сильными руками. Хорс свободной рукой грубо схватил её за правую грудь и сжал сосок. "Ты когда-нибудь видел тело лучше этого? – спросил Даннелл, одновременно погладив свободной рукой её плоский животик и остановившись на твёрдой большой насыпи её левой груди. Хорс не ответил, намереваясь поиграть с толстым правым соском. "Отпустите меня, мудаки", - закричала Кэтрин, всё ещё сопротивляясь. Она испугалась действий мужчин, но ещё больше испугалась реакции своего тела на их тисканья. С тех пор, как кто-то обращал на неё внимание, прошло так много времени, что её тело начало реагировать на их прикосновения. "Пожалуйста, отпустите меня", - снова крикнула она. Даннелл посмотрел на Хорса, и они её отпустили, уронив в воду. Он схватил её бикини, смял его в клубок и отбросил в сторону, далеко во двор. Кэтрин встала, выплевывая воду изо рта. Она вытерла глаза, как раз вовремя, чтобы увидеть, как её бикини летит в воздухе. Она оказалась в ловушке, когда ей либо надо было оставаться в бассейне, скрываясь под водой, либо бежать через весь двор голой. Она не знала, что они будут с ней делать, если останется с ними в воде. Кэтрин решилась, и быстро бросилась из бассейна. Это было бесполезно, потому что сильная рука Даннелла быстро сжалась вокруг её лодыжки и притянула обратно к ним. Он отпустил её, и она встала, тщетно стуча по его широкой груди своими кулачками. "Я буду кричать", - воскликнула она, со слезами на глазах. "Никто не услышит тебя", - сказал Даннелл, хватая её груди. Она почувствовала, как Хорс обхватил её бёдра сзади, и их руки начали гулять по всему её телу. Она пыталась сопротивляться, но чувства были слишком приятными, чтобы отрицать это, и она застонала от удовольствия. Чудовищный член Хорса тыкался ей в ягодицы, и она почувствовала, как он опустился ниже, разведя её ноги. Его ствол заскользил по её половым губам, заставив её киску гореть от желания. Кэтрин вздрогнула, посмотрев вниз, и увидев, как чёрный питон Хорса появляется из-под неё. Видимая часть члена Хорса между её ног была больше, чем весь член её мужа, и она снова вздрогнула, подумав, какого это, ощутить такой член в своей киске. Даннелл наклонился и поцеловал её в рот. Она привыкла к бесстрастным чмоканьям своего мужа, и когда язык Даннелла вошёл ей в рот, она сама не ожидала от себя, что поцелует его в ответ с вожделением. Кэтрин застонала, когда член Хорса выскользнул из-под её ног, и она почувствовала, как его головка трётся об её киску. Он вошёл в неё, и её киска впервые за несколько месяцев почувствовала себя удовлетворённой, но она взмолилась "Пожалуйста, остановитесь. Я не могу изменять мужу". "Это не измена", - усмехнулся Хорс. Кэтрин поняла, что объект, который медленно двигается в её киске, лишь немного больше, чем маленький червячок её мужа, и она поняла, что это всего лишь указательный палец Хорса, которым он её дразнит. И хуже всего было то, что она насаживается на его руку, как сучка во время случки. Хорс вытащил палец, сказав "Я хочу попробовать на вкус эту белую киску". Он толкнул её в сторону. "Нет, ради бога, пожалуйста, не надо", - взмолилась она. Одна лишь мысль о том, что кто-то приложится ртом к чужим гениталиям, внушала ей отвращение. Хорс положил руки ей на бёдра и без труда поднял её на край бассейна. Он так же легко развёл ей ноги и погрузился головой в её киску. Его язык стал лизать и дразнить её половые губы и начал лизать её вспухший клитор. "Нет, нет", - воскликнула Кэтрин, борясь с ним, но его руки держали её. "О, боже мой", - закричала она, когда его язык накрыл её клитор. Это было самое большое чувство удовольствия в её жизни, и её бёдра начали делать поступательные движения вокруг его языка. Она почувствовала давление, растущее в её матке, оно становилось всё сильнее и ближе... Её глаза широко раскрылись от удивления. Даннелл спокойно стоял рядом с Хорсом, наблюдая за признаками приближающегося к ней оргазма. Он знал, что Хорс может часами вылизывать белые киски, и не любит, когда его прерывают, но когда он увидел, что она вот-вот кончит, он придержал Хорса. Даннелл услышал, как Кэтрин закричала в отчаянии и разочаровании. Хорс взглянул на него так, словно готов был оторвать Даннеллу голову, но успокоился, когда Даннелл подмигнул ему. "Хорс, мы должны остановиться, это не правильно", - сказал он. "Прости, Кэтрин, мы увлеклись, просто ты слишком красивая. Мы уходим. Я знаю, ты не хочешь, чтобы он лизал тебе киску". "Да. То есть нет". Кэтрин выпрямилась и смотрела на них в отчаянии. Она застонала от досады. "Пожалуйста, не останавливайся. Я почти кончила", - закричала она отчаянно. Хорсу не нужно было повторять дважды, и он погрузил голову в её киску снова. Даннелл знал, что у него есть только несколько минут, поэтому он вылез из воды и припал лицом к её уху, нашёптывая "Только будет справедливо, если мы сделаем это для тебя, ты сделаешь то же самое для нас". Кэтрин никогда раньше не испытывала оргазм, и отчаянно хотела, чтобы это произошло, но она воскликнула "Нет, я не могу изменять мужу". "Минет не измена", - прошептал он. Даннелл увидел, что Хорс замедлился и смотрит на него поверх её киски. "Изменой будет считаться, если только мы трахнем тебя". "Нет, я не могу", - сказала она. "Хорс, пошли", - сказал настойчиво Даннелл. Кэтрин снова почувствовала, как оргазм увядает, и когда Хорс последний раз провёл языком вдоль её киски, она передумала. "Нет, подожди, я сделаю это", - взмолилась она. "Только не останавливайся". Чувства вернулись быстро, когда Хорс снова вернулся к её киске. Она застонала, когдаХорс немедленно снова напал на её киску, его язык лизал чувствительную область между её киской и аналом. Она подняла глаза вверх и оказалась перед красивым обрезанным членом Деннелла. Он был идеальной формы. Головка была толстой и твёрдой. Казалось, она пульсирует с каждым ударом его сердца. От кончика до области обрезания, член был светло-коричневым, становясь всё более тёмным к основанию. "Я никогда не делала этого раньше", - сказала она, в страхе глядя на его член. Это низкое животное действо преследовало её во снах с первого момента, как только она увидела их члены на прошлой неделе. "Пожалуйста, не надо..." "Заткнись, сука", - прервал её Даннелл. "Мы позаботились о тебе, теперь ты должна позаботиться о нас. К тому же, тебе это понравится". Кэтрин не знала, как можно получать наслаждение от такого низкого акта, но ей пришлось согласиться на него, и Даннелл заверил её, что это не будет настоящей изменой. Хорс дразнил область вокруг её клитора своим языком, и она почувствовала приближение ещё одного оргазма. Невозможно, подумала она, у неё никогда не было ни одного за всю жизнь, а теперь два бездомных негра вот-вот заставят её кончить дважды всего за несколько минут. Даннелл увидел, что она снова близка к оргазму. "Кэтрин, наклонись и покажи, как ты любишь мой член. Просто маленький поцелуй". Кэтрин вспотела и тяжело дышала от приближающегося оргазма. Почему он не лижет её клитор, а вместо этого дразнит, водя языком вокруг него? Она наклонилась, испытывая немного мерзкое чувство, словно она животное, которое тянется к миске с кормом. "Лишь маленький поцелуй", - сказал Даннелл снова, "и ты доставишь нам обоим массу удовольствия". Она застонала, приблизившись к головке его члена. Этот оргазм должен был продлиться дольше и будет вероятно ещё более мощным, чем первый. Она сморщила губки и поцеловала Даннелла в головку члена, как раз над дырочкой. Как только она прикоснулась губами к члену, язык Хорса грубо заходил по её клитору, пока не вызвал новый оргазм в её теле. Кэтрин застонала от удовольствия, ощутив, как член Биг Ди проталкивается в её открытые губы. В тот момент она не могла сдерживаться и рванула головой вперёд, почувствовав, как член скользнул по её щеке. Она затаила дыхание. "Эй, Ди, тебе понравится эта киска", - сказал Хорс, остановившись на мгновенье. Его лицо было покрыто её соками. "Это настоящие сливки". Он счастливый снова уткнулся в её киску. Кэтрин пришла в себя и начала двигать лицо обратно к началу гигантского десятидюймового члена. Прядь преякулята расползлась от кончика его члена до её щеки. Она попробовала преякулят Хорса на прошлой неделе, и она высунула язык, слизав преякулят Даннелла. Ей нравился вкус, но всё равно ей казалось, что если он кончит ей в рот, это будет отвратительно. "Только пообещай, что вытащишь его до того, как кончишь", - сказала она, глядя на него. На его лице играла нахальная усмешка, но он кивнул соглашаясь. Она задрожала от глубокого желания, доставить удовольствие этому мужчине. Было что-то правильное и естественное в том, чтобы стоять перед ним на коленях, и брать его член в свой рот. "С чего мне начать?", - подумала она, предполагая, что всё закончится в считанные минуты. Её муж никогда не мог продержаться больше трёх. "Полижи головку", - приказал он. Она коснулась языком головки и начала водить им по вершине. Она не могла поверить, что берёт в рот член другого мужчины. До прошлой недели она даже не прикасалась к пенисам за пределами своей работы, только лишь когда хватала вялого червячка своего мужа, направляя его маленький стручок себе в вагину. Кэтрин полностью облизала головку и застонала, почувствовав, как язык Хорса делает похожие круговые движения вокруг её половых губ. Её бёдра начали делать небольшие круговые движения вокруг длинного языка Хорса, и её собственные язык начал быстро лизать залупу Даннелла. Кэтрин пошла вниз, ощутив, как губы у неё разошлись, и его залупа вошла ей в рот. Она стала дразнить язычком его дырочку, ощущая, как он дрожит от удовольствия. "Да, сучка", - сказал он. "Лижи мою щель". Кэтрин подскочила, когда язык Хорса начал лизать её по всей длине её собственной щели. "Теперь оближи его по бокам и поцелуй мои яйца", - приказал Даннелл. Кэтрин охотно повиновалась, убрав член изо рта, и начав облизывать нижнюю часть члена, опускаясь к яйцам. Язык Хорса пошёл вверх, достигнув дна её щёлки, когда она достигла яиц Даннелла. Он стал облизывать область между её киской и анусом. Она подскочила, когда его язык коснулся её сфинктера, но продолжила целовать яйца Даннелла, в то время, как Хорс продолжил облизывать её милый, маленький бутон розы. Он протолкнул язык немного внутрь, услышав её стон. Он взглянул на Деннелла поверх округлостей её красивой попы, и на краткий миг ему захотелось, чтобы эта белая киска досталась только ему одному, но ему был необходим Даннелл, чтобы расслабить её для него. Она облизала член Ди обратно к кончику, а Хорс пошёл языком вниз к её киске. Она снова кончила, когда он достиг её клитора. В глазах Кэтрин застыл ошеломлённый взгляд, когда она отошла от своего третьего оргазма. Ей казалось, что всё её тело горит. Теперь она поняла, что доставив удовольствие им, она доставит удовольствие себе. "Теперь, сука", - сказал Даннелл, "Я хочу, чтобы ты взяла мой член в рот". Она почувствовала язык Хорса у входа в свою киску, когда взяла залупу Даннелла в рот снова. "Больше, сука", - приказал Даннелл. Кэтрин расслабила челюсть и взяла ещё пару дюймов в рот, ощутив, как язык Хорса вошёл ей в киску. Она убрала рот, глотая воздух, почувствовав, как язык Хорса тоже вышел из неё. В ужасе, она быстро снова вернула член в рот, вздохнув, когда ощутила, что язык Хорса снова погрузился в неё. Чем больше она брала в рот, тем глубже входил в неё язык Хорса, и она отчаянно пыталась взять в рот как можно больше невероятного члена Даннелла. Она сосала, качая головой вверх и вниз, чувствуя, как гигантский чёрный член пульсирует у неё во рту, пока она отсасывает Даннеллу. Она пыталась принять чуть больше с каждым новым движением глотки, желая, чтобы член Хорса погружался глубже. "Всего на пару дюймов больше, сука", - сказал Даннелл. Его член теперь был у неё в горле, и она силилась проглотить последние два дюйма. Хорс убрал свой язык и её крики неудовольствия были заглушены десятью дюймовым монстром у неё во рту, но его язык быстро сменился двумя его пальцами. Его пальцы были толще и длиннее, чем пенис её мужа, и она застонала на члене Ди, когда Хорс начал трахать её пальцами. Кэтрин с радостью сосала член Биг Ди, пока Хорс долбил её пальцами в киску. Он покусывал её половые губы, пока совал в неё пальцы, и она могла поклясться, что никогда в жизни не чувствовала себя так хорошо. Член Даннелла вёл себя странно. Он, то и дело, дёргался у неё во рту, и она могла поклясться, он стал ещё больше. Она взглянула на него. Его глаза были полузакрыты, и пот скатывался с его бровей. Она уже собиралась спросить его, не собирается ли он кончить, как Хорс вдруг сменил тактику. Он глубоко погрузил в неё пальцы и начал водить кончиками пальцев по кругу в её киске. Её тело бесконтрольно задёргалось, насаженное на его пальцы, и она ощутила приближение ещё одного оргазма. Кэтрин начала сосать быстрее, чувствуя, как Хорс ещё быстрее заработал пальцами глубоко внутри неё. Кэтрин почувствовала, как разбухла головка члена Даннелла в её горле, потом она задёргалась, и Кэтрин ощутила, как целый галлон его спермы полился ей в желудок. Испытывая отвращение, она начала вытаскивать его член изо рта, но пальцы Хорса подарили ей самый большой оргазм из всех, и она закричала в изумлении, от чувства удовольствия, прошедшего через её тело. Вторая волна спермы полилась ей в открытый рот, и она не могла ничего поделать, как проглотить почти всё. Даннелл схватился за свой член и направил третью волну спермы ей в лицо, оставив большую прядь спермы от её лба до подбородка. Он схватил её за голову, притянул к себе и засунул член обратно ей в рот. Она почувствовала, как ещё больше спермы заполнило её рот, осознав в первый раз, какая на самом деле горячая у него сперма. Конечно, она понимала, что это из-за температуры тела. Она глотала, наслаждаясь вкусом и восстановившись от оргазма, она удовлетворённо легла, продолжая сосать член Ди. Хорс слизал её соки со своих губ, потом окунулся в воду, чтобы помыть лицо. Он подвигал челюстью, расслабляя её, и вылез из воды. "Моя очередь", - сказал он. Кэтрин поняла, что у неё болят колени на цементе, и сказала "Подождите, у меня есть идея получше". Она встала и махнула им, чтобы они шли за ней. У Кэтрин с мужем были небольшие апартаменты над гаражом, и Кэтрин повела их по боковым ступенькам в эти апартаменты. Она забежала в ванну, чтобы проверить себя и была шокирована от того, что увидела в зеркале. Она видела себя обнажённой огромное число раз, но сейчас её тело, кажется излучало секс. Она ощущала себя живой, и её тело было сверх-чувствительным к её прикосновениям. Единственное, что расстроило её, была сперма Даннелла у неё на лице. Большая нить вдоль её лица стала жидкой и растеклась по её щекам. Также сперма была в уголках её рта и ещё немного капало у неё с подбородка.Она посмотрела ему в глаза, и колени у неё начали подгибаться от страха и желания подчиниться. Они бесконтрольно задрожали, пока она не упала на колени перед его членом и не начала с любовью поглаживать его рукой. Этот мужчина за час доставил ей больше удовольствия, чем её муж за весь их брак, и он заслужил лучший минет, который она могла ему предоставить. Она посмотрела на его член. Если член Даннелла был обрезанным и красивым, то член Хорса был уродливым и страшным. Он был чёрно-тёмным от кончика до основания. Его ствол в ширину был почти как её запястье, а головка размером со сливу. Прямо как тогда, когда она осматривала его, преякулят сочился из уретры в невероятном количестве. Кэтрин наклонилась и поцеловала кончик его члена, одновременно оттянув крайнюю плоть, так что его головка вышла наружу. В тот момент что-то нашло на неё, и она буквально набросилась на его чёрного монстра. Всё, чему Даннелл научил её и не только, она вложила в ублажение этого божественного члена в её руке. Она пососала и облизала головку, потом прошлась по бокам вверх и вниз. Она приподняла его и обцеловала его одинаково огромные яйца. Ей даже стало интересно, сколько спермы содержится в этих чудовищах, и она услышала, как снова заурчал её желудок. Хорс вытащил член у неё изо рта, и ей стало интересно, что будет дальше, но потом она увидела, что он просто ложится на ковёр. Кэтрин огляделась и увидела, что Биг Ди пристально смотрит на них, и она была ошеломлена, увидев, что его член снова стоит. Иногда ей казалось, что её мужу нужно несколько дней, чтобы восстановиться. Она снова обратила своё внимание на Хорса и подползла к нему между его ног, словно прося о большем. Его массивный чёрный член лежал у него на животе, кончик лежал чуть дальше его пупка, и она схватила его и подняла вверх. Кэтрин склонилась и взяла головку в рот. Она начала сосать это чудовище, с каждым новым движением глотая чуть больше. Слава богу, член Даннелла уже разработал её челюсть, в противном случае она не была уверена, что могла проглотить такую большую штуку. Она услышала, как он застонал, когда его член проскользнул ей в горло. Она старалась делать всё, что могла, но смогла проглотить только около десяти дюймов. К счастью, он, кажется, удовлетворился этим, и она начала быстро сосать его член. Кэтрин обнаружила, что ей нравится сосать члены, особенно королевский член Хорса. Даннелл обошёл их, встав сзади неё, и начал лизать её киску снова. Она разозлилась из-за того, что её прерывают, но вскоре ощутила приближение нового оргазма. Это отвлекло её от минета Хорсу, хотя в тот момент ей ничего в жизни не хотелось больше, чем удовлетворить обладателя этого великолепного члена в её рту. Она надеялась, что он поймёт, почему её ритм стал нарушаться. Ей захотелось кричать от радости, когда Хорс начал хрипеть и задвигал бёдрами. Он наслаждался минетом, несмотря на то, что её отвлекли несколько оргазмов, которые ей дал Даннелл. Биг Ди был талантливым пиздолизом, как и Хорс, хотя язык Хорса был намного длиннее. Член Хорса начал трястись у неё в руках, и она поняла, что он уже близок к тому, чтобы кончить. Кэтрин облегчённо вздохнула, когда Даннелл перестал лизать её киску, и она смогла обратить всё своё внимание к сосанию 13-дюймового чёрного члена Хорса, но Даннелл с ней не закончил, он встал сзади неё на колени и стал тереться об её щёлку своим длинным хуем. "Подожди", - сказала она, раздражённая тем, что ей пришлось убрать губы с члена Хорса, "моя киска только для пениса моего мужа, и никаких других. Ты можешь вложить туда свои пальцы или язык, но не член". Кэтрин почувствовала, что Даннелл убрал свой член, и вернулась к минету. Она почувствовала, как головка Даннелла вернулась к её губкам её киски, через несколько секунд. "Знаешь, Кэт", - сказал Даннелл, двигая головкой члена вокруг её щёлки, смазывая её. "На самом деле, это не будет считаться изменой, пока я не кончу в твою киску. Почему бы тебе не позволить войти в тебя хотя бы головкой?" Кэтрин была насажена горлом на десять дюймов члена Хорса, и она начала двигать головой вверх, чтобы сказать "ни за что", когда в её рту взорвался вулкан, выплёвывая горячую сперму ей в горло и рот. Она не могла поверить, каким большим стал его член, перед тем как взорваться. Она не могла поверить количеству его кончи. Спермы было больше, чем она могла представить. Спермы было больше, чем произвёл её муж за 12 лет брака, всё в одном заряде, и сперма продолжала изливаться. Она ощутила, как растянулись её половые губки вокруг головки члена Ди, обхватив её и пытаясь засосать его член глубже. Это было невероятно, но она попыталась протестовать, сняв рот с члена Хорса, и её лицо немедленно намокло, так как он продолжил изрыгать сперму. Она попыталась заговорить, но её рот заполнился большим количеством спермы, чем она успевала глотать. "О, как хорошо, Кэт", - сказал Биг Ди. "Твоя киска просто замечательная и тугая. Ты не против, если я продвинусь ещё немного?" Он уже протолкнул свой член глубже, пока говорил. Ещё больше спермы вылетело из члена Хорса, забрызгав всё её лицо и волосы. Кэтрин обхватила его член губами, чтобы остановить поток, смутно осознавая, что её бёдра толкаются назад, желая впустить в неё больше члена Ди. Даннелл всегда поражался, как много спермы может производить член Хорса, даже если у него бывал секс по несколько раз в день, но даже он был удивлён, сколько сейчас накончал Хорс. С тех пор, как они трахнули жену своего бригадира, работая у них на заднем дворе, прошло две недели. Они подсадили её на чёрные члены и были уволены из-за этого. Хорс не мастурбировал. Две недели без секса, и он практически утопил бедную женщину в море спермы. Даннелл решил сосредоточиться на её ебле. Её киска была горячей, мокрой и уютной. Казалось, что она была создана для его 10-дюймового члена. Он был уже наполовину в ней и решил протолкнуть оставшееся без её разрешения. Кэтрин взглянула на него через плечо, на её лице было нарисовано выражение благоговения. При этом он не мог полностью разглядеть её лицо, так как почти всё её лицо было залито спермой Хорса. Она открыла рот, словно пытаясь сказать что-то, и он увидел большие пряди спермы растянувшиеся у неё между губ. Стон соскользнул с её губ, и она снова отвернула голову, награждая небольшими поцелуями всё ещё стоячий член Хорса. Он почувствовал, как мышцы её влагалища сжимают его большой член, и застонал от удовольствия, от того, что трахал такую замечательную киску. Она с лёгкостью вобрала в себя все десять дюймов, и он понял, что это была самая идеальная пизда из всех, что он трахал в жизни. Даннеллу захотелось, чтобы он поимел её один, но ему пришлось довольствоваться тем, что он был первым мужчиной, который проник в неё так глубоко. Кэтрин и её муж никогда не занимались сексом в этом положении, и ей понравилось, что её трахают вот так, сзади. От этого она чувствовала себя использованной и грязной, словно они были животными, извивающимися на полу. Хорс поднялся с ковра и сел на диван, наблюдая за ними. Кэтрин стало интересно, хоть одна женщина, когда-нибудь, смогла принять полностью его член. Ей было жаль его, потому что она не была уверена, что-то хоть кто-то из женщин смог это сделать, она уж точно не сможет. Она закричала от гигантского оргазма, когда член Даннелла достиг отметки в десять дюймов. "Тебе нравится быть насаженной на мой хуй?" - спросил Даннелл, после того, как она восстановилась от оргазма. Он медленно высовывал свой пенис, пока головка не вышла из её киски, и потом снова вогнал его с силой по самые яйца. "Б-боже", - простонала она, "мне это нравится". "У меня хуй больше, чем у твоего мужа?" "Н-да", - воскликнула она. "В два раза больше". Даннелл прекратил вытаскивать из неё член, пока в её киске не осталось пять дюймов. Мышцы её вагины пытались засосать больше, и она толкалась назад бёдрами, желая большего, но он не торопился. "Это всё, что может твой муж?" "Нет, у тебя всё равно больше", - она заплакала от отчаяния. "У этого ублюдка всё равно не такой толстый и твёрдый". "Дело в том, что тебя могут удовлетворить только чёрные члены", - сказал он, вгоняя остальной член. Даннелл начал трахать её быстро и жёстко. "Да! Ты прав. Только черный член", - она застонала, почувствовав приближение нового оргазма. "Это потому, что ты шлюха, Кэт", - сообщил он ей. "Нееет", - простонала она, отрицательно покачав головой. "Ты шлюха - Кэт", - сказал он снова. "Ты Кэтрин, когда ты с мужем, но с нами ты Кэт, шлюха - Кэт". Боже, он прав, подумала Кэт, когда ещё один оргазм взорвался у неё в матке. Она была шлюхой. Ей хотелось быть шлюхой. Чувства, которые она испытывала, ублажая этих двух мужчин, намного перевешивали любые выгоды, которые она получала, помогая больным людям в больнице. "Да, я твоя шлюха", - сказала Кэт, плача. Даннелл перестал опускать её в своих же глазах и сосредоточился на ебле. Его яйца неоднократно хлопались по её бёдрам, и его рывки были такими мощными, что её бёдра стали немного болеть. Кэт и представить не могла, что секс может быть настолько хорош, и ей стало плохо от мысли, как много лет жизни она потеряла со своим мужем. Бесконечная долбёжка его большого члена дарила ей много маленьких оргазмов, и сейчас она ощущала, как приближается ещё один большой. Даннелл также начал хрипеть, и его ритм сбился. Она почувствовала, как распухКэт теперь принадлежит Даннеллу, её муж перестал иметь для неё значение ещё час назад. "Да, кончи мне в киску", - закричала она, когда оргазм сотряс её тело. "Наполни её своей спермой". Потом чувства от её самого большого оргазма в жизни, переполнили её, и она закричала от наслаждения. Кэт рухнула вперёд, почувствовав как невероятный член Даннелла выпал из её киски. Кэт восстановила дыхание и перевернулась на спину на ковре. Она взглянула на Даннелла с любовью и сердечно поблагодарила его. Она была удивлена, увидев грустное выражение на его лице. "Не грусти", - сказала она. "Я рада, что ты сделал это. Можешь трахать меня в любое время". "Так как в этот раз, уже не будет", - сказал он, снова пожелав обладать этой женщиной одному. Кэт была озадачена, но она отвлеклась, увидев огромное количество спермы, вытекающей из её киски на ковёр. "Мне нужно прибраться здесь", - сказала она ему. Даннелл ответил: "Брось, теперь тебе будет намного легче..." "Что ты имеешь в виду...", - начала спрашивать она. Даннелл отошёл в сторону, и за ним показался Хорс. Чёрное чудовище Хорса было снова в эрегированном состоянии и торчало прямо перед ним, на расстоянии добрых 30 сантиметров (фута). Волна страха пробежала по её телу. Кэт нервно засмеялась, когда Хорс встал перед ней на колени. "Стой, Хорс", - сказала она, всё ещё надеясь и молясь, что он шутит. "Я никогда не смогу принять этого монстра в свою киску. Позволь мне снова отсосать тебе. Мне кажется, у меня в животике ещё осталось местечко для твоей спермы". Хорс проигнорировал её. Он с лёгкостью развёл в стороны её ноги и взглянул на сперму Даннелла, сочащуюся из её киски. Он оттянул свою крайнюю плоть и потёр головкой вокруг её половых губ, смазывая залупу её соками и спермой Ди. Он надавил на неё, увидев, как её половые губки открылись, обхватив головку его члена. Кэт опёрлась на локти, наблюдая, как его залупа входит в неё. Она мотала головой из стороны в сторону, отрицая то, что видит. "Ахх", - воскликнула она, когда её половые губки заскользили поверх толстой головки его члена, она чувствовала небольшую боль. Кэтрин начала бороться, но он без труда удержал её. Кэтрин посмотрела на Даннелла, её глаза молили о помощи. Он выглядел грустным и отвернулся. Она почувствовала, как её половые губки пропустили залупу, и вздохнула с облегчением, потом застонала, когда уплотнение крайней плоти заскользило по её клитору. Ей снова стало больно, и она заплакала от боли, когда толстая часть его члена под залупой вошла в неё. Он начал производить толчки своим членом, погружаясь с каждым новым рывком дюйм за дюймом. "Ди", - прорычал неожиданно Хорс, "принеси что-нибудь, вытереть ей лицо". Кэт увидела, как Даннелл вскочил и побежал в ванну. Она поняла теперь, что Хорс был у них главным. Даннелл лишь подготовил её для члена Хорса. Она бы совершенно не могла сделать это, если бы Даннелл уже не растянул её и не смазал её киску своей спермой. Кэт начала дышать короткими вдохами, словно женщина при родах. Она чувствовала, как растягивается её киска, натягиваясь на чёрного захватчика, и поняла, почему Даннелл сказал "так как в этот раз, больше не будет", - про новый трах с ней. Член Хорса был теперь также глубоко, как член Ди, и ещё оставалось три дюйма. Кэт снова заплакала от боли, когда он безжалостно вогнал в неё оставшийся член, пройдя сквозь шейку матки, прямо в матку, вогнав член по самую рукоятку. Кэт лишь уставилась в потолок, не веря в происходящее. Она лишь смутно осознавала, что Даннелл вытирает какой-то тряпкой сперму с её лица. Хорс всё ещё давал ей приспособиться к его 13-дюймовому члену. Кэт была доктором и знала, что физически это было невозможно. По её расчётам, его член должен был быть уже на дюйм выше её пупка. Куда ушёл его член? Хорс любил трахаться больше всего на свете. Если бы он не встретил Ди, он бы просто бросил эту наглую сучку на пол, и стал бы таранить её членом, пока она не взмолилась бы о пощаде. Даннелл научил его терпению. Горячая, мокрая киска, уже растянутая Ди была намного лучше, чем сухая, и ещё не тронутая. Он выгнул спину и наклонился, облизав её длинные соски. Ему также нравился тот факт, что женщинам теперь нравится его член, и секс с другими мужчинами теперь для них будет не интересен. Он ощутил её дрожь, когда слегка укусил сосок, и понял, что она готова. Он вытянулся и страстно поцеловал её, большой язык, который впервые в жизни подарил ей оргазм, вошёл ей в рот. Она ответила на поцелуй уродливого наглеца, и он начал медленно долбить её своим членом. К десятому толчку её тело перестало ощущать боль, и теперь в неё было лишь чувство полной принадлежности Хорсу. Он вытянулся над ней, и теперь её лицо было погружено в его жёсткую грудь. Она чувствовала себя полностью побеждённой, придушенная его чернотой. Ей казалось, что он уродлив, но сейчас она была уверена, что это самый привлекательный мужчина из всех ею виденных. Всё дело было в мужественности, только она имела значение, а не внешность. Кэт стала подмахивать бёдрами, встречая его толчки, которые увеличились до невероятного темпа. Его называли Конём, потому что он трахался, как животное, но кони были гладкими и красивыми. Бык, вероятно, было бы более подходящим для него именем. Да, большой чёрный бык, чей гигантский член безжалостно долбит всё, что видит, пока не наполнит это спермой. Он был животным, а она была сукой во время течки, желая его член. Десять человека не стащили бы его сейчас с неё, и она бы не позволила им это сделать, если бы кто-то попытался. Она кончала на каждом третьем толчке, и оргазмы переполнили её ощущения. С каждым толчком члена, твёрдый ствол у основания залупы тёрся об её клитор, потом по самую рукоятку вонзался глубоко ей в киску, врываясь в матку, и она кричала от сладостных ощущений. Он кончил после часа беспрерывного траханья. Его более могущественный член быстро сбил сперму Даннелла в ничто, и она заорала от удовольствия, когда её киска снова наполнилась спермой. Он взревел, как буйвол, излив в её киску почти столько же спермы, сколько и в её рот. Волна гигантского оргазма накрыла её, когда она почувствовала как его сперма растекается по стенкам влагалища, и течёт дальше, глубоко в её тело. Она потеряла сознание от ощущений. Когда она очнулась, Кэт была рада, что всё ещё смята телом Хорса. Его член всё ещё был погружён в её киску и лишь немного смягчился. Она повиляла бёдрами, и от этого он снова начал расти. Кэт взвизгнула от восторга, когда он снова начал трахать её. Хорс поддел её руками и перевернулся, она оказалась сверху на нём. Она начала скользить вверх и вниз по его члену, наслаждаясь ощущениями. "Могу я по крайней мере поиметь её в задницу?", - спросил Даннелл. Хорс хмыкнул, и Даннелл встал сзади маленькой попки Кэт. У Хорса, может быть, член был и больше, но ему никогда не суждено было познать радости анального секса. Не в первый раз, Даннелл пожелал никогда не встречать Хорса и насладиться этой сладкой киской одному. К тому же, если бы он не встретил Хорса, у него бы всё ещё была работа. Кэт почувствовала, как головка Даннелла толкается в её задницу. Было больно почти так же, как когда в её киску входил Хорс, но она знала, что ей это понравится, после того, как он полностью войдёт в неё... И ей действительно понравилось. Позже, Кэтрин сидела за обеденным столом со своим мужем. Он читал газету, как всегда не обращая на неё внимания. "Милый", - сказала она, - "я перешла на ночную смену в больнице". "Но мы тогда даже не будем видеться", - ответил он. "Я знаю, но больница в отчаянии", - сказала она, думая о том, как будет весь день ублажать Хорса. Свои ночи она будет проводить, как Кэтрин, а дни как Кэт, шлюха Хорса. Её муж на минуту вернулся к прочтению газеты, потом сказал "Я вижу, ты наняла двух чёрных мальчиков, стричь газон". "Да, дорогой", - сказала она. "Они остались без крова, и я надеюсь, что ты будешь не против, если я позволю им пожить в квартире над гаражом, пока они на нас работают". "Против?" - сказал её муж, опуская газету. "Конечно, нет! Ты просто гений, милая. Это огромный налоговый вычет". Он вспомнил обо всех других работниках, которые уволились из-за его стервозной жены и сказал, "Только позаботься, чтобы эти двое были счастливы, и не свалили от нас в ближайшее время". "Приложу все усилия", - ответила она, улыбнувшись. Конец

Authors/FUCKTOR/My stories/Moi perevodi/Doctor-Bitch.txt