The Monday after the most embarrassing night of her life blew in with a storm, the skies gray and cloudy, just like Gracie’s mood. She’d sat at her desk for hours, working with the determination of a machine, trying to keep her mind off of one thing. Or one person, to be exact.

Mitchell Caldwell.

It wasn’t the humiliation that had kept her tossing and turning for the last two nights, but a man she’d only seen for a matter of moments. A few moments that had captivated her to the point of obsession.

Gracie wasn’t worried about her reputation or that of her firm. The threat of a lawsuit had squelched the gossip that had been circulating. If anything, business seemed to be up. She’d received a few interesting emails with indecent proposals, a dozen roses with a card that contained a marriage proposal, a singing telegram and a dozen messages from John begging her to return his calls. She’d gotten her partners to pull their accounts from John’s bank and invest with a competitor. He’d do anything to get them back as clients. Even apologize. From what she’d heard through office gossip, it wasn’t only their accounts that he’d lost since the previous Saturday.

It was petty revenge, but it felt damn good.

Gracie jumped in surprise as a crash of thunder rattled the glass in her office window. Being on the nineteenth floor had never made her feel very safe. The time had gotten away from her, and it was already way past dark. The rain was coming down so hard that she couldn’t see two feet outside her window.

She shut down her computer and shoved her files in her briefcase. The Texas weather was too warm for a coat, even a raincoat, so she was thankful that she’d gotten to work early enough that she’d found a parking spot in the garage. Getting soaked to the skin would have just added misery to an already miserable day.

The elevator took her straight to the bottom, not stopping at other floors along the way, as almost everyone in the building had already headed home for the evening. Her heels clicked rapidly on the cement as she made her way to the lone car parked under the yellow light in the far corner, and her hand clutched her briefcase and handbag in a tight grip. Her heart was racing, and she had to squelch the urge to scream every time the thunder boomed overhead. Images of a large glass of wine and a hot bath were the only thoughts in her mind when a hand clamped over her mouth and another wrapped around her waist, effectively clamping her arms to her sides.

Gracie bit at the black-gloved fingers and screamed when he uncovered her mouth, no doubt cursing the pain she’d caused him. The instinct to fight back overtook her and she kicked out behind her, feeling the hard flesh deflect her foot. Her attacker was silent through it all, wearing down her strength patiently as he dodged her blows. It had seemed like she’d been struggling for minutes, but in truth it had only been seconds. Her screams had gone unheard and she was truly alone with an attacker whose strength was far superior to her own.

The last thought that went through her mind before the sickeningly sweet smell of chloroform assailed her nostrils, was that John Johnson would pay for this.


Gracie remembered vaguely that she’d ridden in a van. To where, she had no idea, but every detail mattered. When she’d woken again she was lying on something soft, probably a mattress, in a room as black as pitch. She couldn’t see anything, but she could still hear the rain pouring outside. Did that mean it was still the same day?

Her mind was fuzzy from the drug and a headache pounded just behind her eyes. She tried to lift her hands up to rub away the pounding, but they were restrained. Panic overtook her, and she had to consciously slow her breathing for fear of hyperventilating and passing out.

Gracie cleared her mind and tried to think of the facts. She’d been on her way home from work when she’d been attacked, she’d been drugged, she’d woken briefly in a van with a hard metal floor, it was still raining and her hands and feet were tied to what she assumed was a mattress. Any way she looked at it, she decided the outcome couldn’t be good.

The opening of the door sped her controlled breathing up once again. It wasn’t the sound of the door that let her know that someone was in the room with her, but rather the lack of sound. The pregnant silence settled over her like a thick blanket, suffocating her until she wanted to scream just to fill the void.

The footsteps of her captor weighed heavy as he made his way to her side. “Have no fear from me,” he said. He knelt beside her on the bed and lifted her head in his hand. The cool water splashed against her lips and she drank greedily. Her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

“Slow down,” he ordered. “You don’t want to make yourself sick. Open your mouth for me.”


“I have aspirin for your headache.”

When she didn’t comply, he stuck his finger through her clamped lips and pried her mouth open, dropping the two pills in. He held her nose and poured the water down her throat until he was sure she’d swallowed them.

“Don’t make things difficult on yourself. There is no need for you to be in pain.”

“Then untie me,” Gracie demanded.

“The bonds do not hurt you,” he said, checking the padded restraints just to make sure.

“Someone will look for me,” she said. “You can’t just take someone against their will and not expect there to be consequences.”

“But this is your will, isn’t it, Gracie.” He whispered the words so they were a caress along her skin.

A satin blindfold was placed around her head, and she almost asked what the point was since it was so dark inside the room, but the she heard the scrape of matches and saw the dim glow of light through her blindfold. Gracie heard a small click and winced as she felt a cold blade glance across her skin. It was sharp as it sliced through her clothing as if it were nothing more than paper. Her suit was tossed aside, no more than trash now, and her undergarments were given similar treatment until she was laid bare before her captor. She let out a breath of relief when she heard another click and the blade was put away.

“Beautiful,” he whispered as he ran his finger from the tip of her breast to the top of her thigh. “I’m going to give you a choice, Gracie. We’re not strangers. I felt the passion in you from the first moment and knew that we’d be together this way. But if you want what I have to give you, you have to take a chance.”

Mitchell. But what if it wasn’t really him? Was she willing to take that chance?

“What do you have to give me?” she asked.

“My cock buried deep in your pussy and as many orgasms as you can stand.”

His promise sent desire to her clit and she could feel her nipples pebble. “And what is the alternative?”

“I’ll let you go. And you’ll never see me again, except in your dreams.”

Gracie held back a cry of distress. She couldn’t bear the though of never having his touch again.

“No, don’t release me,” she said, panicked as she felt him begin to unclasp her restraints. “I want what you have to give me.”

“Very good,” he whispered.

She shuddered as his mouth came down over her nipple. The warmth of his caress and the gentle pull from the suction of his mouth was almost enough to make her go over the edge. Then he bit her, gently at first and then increasingly harder, until she did scream with a climax. His warm tongue soothed the pain with long strokes until she sighed in contentment.

She gasped as something cold touched the still tender nipple and she whimpered in pain when something clamped down onto it. Hard. And then the same thing was repeated with the other one. The clamps sent jolts of pleasure straight to her clit, and she had another small orgasm before her captor could work his way down her body.

“Please. . .” she begged.

“Please, what?”

“Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

“Whatever I wish,” he answered as he closed his mouth over her most sensitive spot.

Gracie could do nothing but moan as she felt him open her nether lips with his fingers and kiss her intimately. His tongue circled her clitoris and then delved inside her, and he repeated the process over and over until she was writhing beneath him and pulling at her restraints.

“I’m going to come,” she panted.

“Mmm, I hope so. You taste so sweet. I want you to flood my mouth with your nectar.” He flicked his tongued one last time against the swollen nub and sent her spiraling over the edge.

She screamed out her release. “Stop, stop, it’s too much. Ohmigod. Please,” she didn’t know what she was asking, only that the sweet torment continue.

Gracie sighed as he slowed his assault and gently lapped at her still throbbing pussy. The sensations continued though when he pushed his finger slowly inside her, all the way to the hilt.

“God,” he groaned. “You’re so tight. Do you know how good you’re going to feel around my cock?”

Gracie protested as he pulled his finger out, but moaned when he quickly added a second and began slowly penetrating her again. Her toes curled when he curved his fingers up slightly and hit her G spot. It had been eight years since a man had found her G spot, and it had been an accident that time. The pleasure intensified as he flicked her clitoris in time with his fingers, and before long she was thrusting against his mouth and his fingers with another climax.

She might have passed out for a minute or two, but when she woke the restraints were being taken off her legs.

“What about my hands?” she asked when she realized he was going to leave those in place. “I want to touch you.”

“No, you want to be dominated. Held captive. You will not touch me with your hands until I say so.”

With the restraints gone from her ankles she was able to bring her legs up higher, expose more of herself to him. She waited in anticipation for what he would do next. The sound of drawers opening and closing caught her interest, but she was soon distracted as she felt the weight of his body back on the bed.

“Pull your knees up to your chest and open yourself wider to me,” he demanded.

Gracie felt the cool gel on his finger and yipped at the shock of it. It warmed quickly, and when his finger touched the puckered star of her anus, she relaxed her muscles as her worked his finger inside. He repeated the process slowly, gathering more lube and then slowly penetrating a finger, then two fingers, then three, until she was prepared for whatever he had in store for her.

“Relax,” he told her.

She did as he asked, but still tensed as the felt something hard penetrate her ass. It was large and ridged, and every bump and ridge was received with a gasp of pleasure, until it was pushed in to the hilt and her bowels were full.

“Oh, God, it’s huge.”

“Put your legs down and keep it inside,” he told her. “I’ll punish you if you don’t keep it in.”

Gracie felt his hot breath along her skin as he made his way back up her body to her lips. The kiss was carnal and wet, and she tried to wrap her legs around him and take him inside of her, but he wouldn’t let her. He pinched her nipple in punishment and she whimpered.

“You’re getting greedy, slave,” he said.

She felt him move up so his legs were on either side of her torso, and the weight of his cock rested against her chin. He cradled her head in his hands and positioned her so her lips touched the salty tip.

“Open you mouth,” he said.

Gracie complied, hungrily, and they both groaned as his cock entered her mouth. She relaxed her throat as he began fucking her mouth, slamming himself against her face. She swirled her tongue around his tip every time he pulled back. His pace became frantic and frenzied, and he held her head still so his cock completely disappeared inside her mouth.

“God, yessss,” he groaned.

Gracie felt the force of his come as she did her best to swallow it down. She drank every drop and flicked her tongue over his sensitive underside, making him jump with pleasure. She kept him in her mouth a little longer, amazed that he was still very hard.

“That was amazing,” he said as he collapsed beside her.

She felt him move until his weight was no longer on the bed. He positioned himself at the foot of the bed and then slowly turned her until she was on her hands and knees.

“Mmm, that’s a beautiful sight,” he said as he ran his fingers across her cunt, making her shiver with need. “Can you imagine what you look like right now? Your ass is in the air with a giant dildo shoved in you to the hilt, and your pussy is gaping open just begging to be fucked. I can’t wait any longer,” he said, positioning himself behind her.

Gracie felt the head of his penis brush against her nether lips. She was already so full from the dildo in her ass she didn’t know how she was going to take him as well. Her breath caught as he pushed his length into her in one thrust. Her breasts rubbed against the sheets of the bed with every thrust and the clamps on her nipples sent tingles to her core. She squeezed her muscles around him with every thrust, trying to prolong her pleasure, but the sensations against her nipples, in her ass and her pussy were too much for her to take. She came in a gush, her juices soaking the bed beneath them.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” her captor yelled. “You are so fucking hot.” He pulled out of her and she heard him rummaging around in another drawer.

“I can’t take any more,” she cried.

The slap of a paddle against her bare bottom changed her mind. She winced in pain at the same time she was groaning in pleasure, because every once in a while the paddle would glance off her pussy lips and leave her wanting more. Just when she thought she’d have to beg for another release, her captor spanked her hard and pulled the dildo from her ass at the same time. Her senses were assaulted and she came again, collapsing in exhaustion.

The man behind her began messaging something cool into her burning ass cheeks, and she sighed in relief at his gentle touch. She was dozing as she felt him readjust the restraints around her wrists so the chain was longer. He pulled her toward the edge of the bed until her legs touched the floor and she was bent over the side. Her arms were tied over her head, and her sensitive breasts were pressed into the mattress.

“Now it’s my turn,” her captor whispered.

She shuddered as he left a trail of wet kisses up her spine, and she felt his hard arousal nestled between the cheeks of her ass. His weight was heavenly against her body, and when he shifted and guided himself into the puckered rosebud of her anus, they both groaned in bliss. He thrust against her patiently, slowly, until the sensations she’d become so familiar with started to spread through her body.

“I’m going to come, baby,” he panted. His breath was hot against her ear, and his tempo had increased.

“Yes, please, come inside my ass. I want to feel your come coat my insides.” Gracie thrust back against him, harder and faster until he shouted his release. She felt his cock expand and his hot seed shoot up inside of her, causing her own orgasm. Her sphincter tightened around him and they both shook as they collapsed from the intensity of their desires.

Gracie woke as she felt him separate himself from her body. They were sticky and covered in sweat. He pulled out of her slowly, but even then she winced in discomfort.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll run a hot bath and we can both soak our sore muscles,” he said lying down beside her.

She turned her head toward his voice and smiled as he released her hands from their bonds and reached around to loosen her blindfold. As her eyes adjusted to the light she found herself looking into crystalline blue eyes, the eyes of the man she’d been dreaming of. The man who had captivated her from their first encounter.

“I knew it was you,” Gracie whispered, as she touched his face for the first time. She leaned over and kissed him gently. “Mitchell.”

“You were the reason I came to that stupid party,” he said. “I saw you leaving your office building on Friday, and I knew I had to have you. It took fast work to find out who you were and what your plans were, but my staff pulled it off. And it wasn’t that hard to question your staff because I own your building.”

Gracie laughed at that news and snuggled closer. “Well, you have me. And I leave it up to you as to what you want to do with me.”

“I have a proposition for you,” Mitchell said without any hesitation.

Gracie stared at him, her body still tingling from his touch, and knew he could ask her for anything in that moment and she’d agree. “What is it?”

“Well, I heard a woman once say something very profound, and it’s stuck with me. What do you say I treat you like a queen, and then you can give me amazing sex for the rest of my life until we’re both too old to care?”

“Whoever said that sounds like a smart woman,” Gracie said. “It’s a deal.”


The coffee pot bubbled upstairs, its thick morning smell slithering down the cellar steps to bring my thoughts back to earth. I had been elsewhere, it seemed.

I set eight-six-one back in his cage and changed the water, the food. Then I checked the other cages to make sure the other creatures were still visible, or alive. They were both. I stumbled over to the rack of coats and robes that hung under the basement window and behind the stairs. Then I tied the rope around my naked body and heavily mounted the steps.

It was no use to a logical mind to think, what had I done? I knew perfectly well what I’d done and I’d enjoyed it. A little too much in fact. My fingers kept making contact with the smooth pine of the bannister and feeling the soft down of Amber’s stomach flexing under my grasp. Halfway up the stairs I stopped and drew my fingers to my face.

Her smell was almost gone, replaced by eight-six-one and the familiar aroma of wood and must. What if I had fathered another child tonight? What if I was unfaithful to Margaret?

What if that was just a malevolent spirit who haunted the neighborhood?

I smiled. My heart pounded under my chest from confusion and excitement and fear. And yet I was giddy; innocent; powerful and yet humbled by either the girl’s bold concupiscence or my own singular triumph. Hell, why not make it a double. Amber certainly left a good deal of restraint at the window; I couldn’t speak for the girl but there was certainly an aura of triumph about her all throughout her several climaxes… And I, what had I achieved? Everything.

I traipsed into the kitchen in my bare feet, my wife catching my eye over her pointed shoulder and simultaneously smiling into her phone and glowering at me. She was speaking enthusiastically – far too energetically for so early on a Saturday (was it Saturday?) but it was none of my business, or I chose to leave it as none of my business.

As I poured the coffee I suddenly realized that I felt shell less. Naked, obviously, beneath the robe, but that in itself was not uncommon. Rather, before no matter the woes and hormonal highs of Rebecca or the cold reluctance or alien sociability of my wife the words seldom penetrated because the latest failure, theorem, confounded hypothesis, existential convolution of algorithmic righteousness, boredom, numbers and dead mice were cloistered about my brain like cotton pulled over my ears and eyes.


My wife spun on me.

I had laughed aloud. She gave me a dirty look and stomped out of the kitchen, all the while carrying her high, boisterous enthusiasm over the conversation. I smiled bashfully to myself. I had not meant to let that escape but the wave had washed over me all at once.

I was suddenly free from that. Because it worked. After so long.

Not that I held the illusion that I was free from scientific (or perhaps moral, at this point) inquiry. There were still years of tests ahead of me, ahead of the Institute, of all of us. But… Hell…



I didn’t see Margaret for most of the day. We went to bed in silence that night (I having slept most of the day, waking briefly to drive Rebecca somewhere that was going out of business or going on sale, then coming home and devouring most of what remained in the refrigerator). In the morning of course she was already awake and straightening her hair.

Margaret, my wife, hated her curls. I had always loved them, the original trait that spurred my attraction to her, but she straightened them whenever she could; I disapproved but said nothing; she straightened them more. I sensed that in this, like in so many minute conflicts between us, there was always the brief opportunity for resolution. But we had been married a long time now, almost nineteen years (as long as I had lived without her) and we gradually let the unsaid stay unsaid, the gulfs of unpleasantness that could erupt at the mildest comment soon growing so wide that there was little to bridge the gap between what we had in common – which was little. Ultimately we, like her parents before us, stopped trying. It was easier and happened as naturally as one year following another. I knew this before now and simply not cared.

I continued to stare at her through the high french doors of the bathroom. I rolled over to my side and watched her in the bright light of the morning window; that heavenly light dwarfing the harsh artificiality of her vanity mirror. Her hair was shorter than when we first met, darker too because she dyed it. Her mother went gray at a young age and she was adamant to never find out what that meant for herself.

Margaret was older than I. She had been a Junior in college at the same time I was completing my accelerated sophomore year. Because I had graduated high school early she had been fascinated with me. Maybe, I thought, in bitter moments when I wondered how it had come to this, she gravitated to me because she was less intimidated by a younger man, thinking too that my intelligence and drive would render me low maintenance. She was right. But I wondered, as I was told by men who were not quite friends but nevertheless valuable companions in my final bachelor days, if she had planned it all. The sudden sexual bouts, the demure outer Catholic mask shed the moment we were far (far) away from students and teachers who knew her and safely ensconced in my dormitory where she unleashed herself on me. She needed very little in return and rewarded my occasional attentions with all that my studies could not relieve. It was perfect.

But I’d never asked about the precautions she was taking. I certainly wasn’t.

I was a young and selfish man. But smart enough to know when I was in trouble. Was I stupid enough to be duped? I always wondered.

But I had to smile now. Because it didn’t matter now. I stared at Margaret in the mirror, at her long lashes that her girlfriends endlessly coveted, telling me how lucky I was to have a wife with such bedroom brown eyes, telling me how impressively she had kept her figure. Margaret was a vegetarian, thin though never much for fitness, with teardrop breasts that sagged but in a full, heavy fashion. She had softened some, from her eyebrows to her ears and her nose, her pale lips. It did her complexion good, the way her chin no longer seemed so cruel or her long neck so strained.

I had been with another woman last night but I… I couldn’t tell where my new happiness sprouted from. Was it finally realizing I had won? Was it conquering that young, brazen runner? Was it just staring at my wife in her mirror? Perhaps it was all these things and more, or less.

“Where were you last night?” she asked.

I cleared my throat. “I worked late in the lab. You probably heard me…”

She pulled the iron away from her hair and squinted at me. “You weren’t in there.”

“I ran. Intermittently.”

“Oh,” she said, and turned back to her mirror. I rolled awkwardly in the bed and her voice floated back to me. “Has the Institute called you?”

She wanted me out of the house. “Not yet,” I said. “But I’m going to speak with some of the lab tomorrow.”

“After the carpool.”

“After the carpool,” I agreed.

“I’m going grocery shopping later. Do you want anything?”

“No,” I said. And that was our last conversation of the day.


I sat behind the wheel in our slanted driveway wondering how it would be to see Amber again. Rebecca had dashed next door to go get her, as she did every morning, and the two would walk back to the car – slower or faster depending on all the important events I was too square to hear.

They came back breathless, both of them wearing enormous grins and Amber especially looking healthy, happy and mischievous. “Well?” she asked my daughter after giving me a hurried hello. I put the car into reverse and rolled into the street while Rebecca pondered aloud.

“Ohhh, I don’t know!”

“Come on!” Amber chided.

Rebecca only laughed in reply.

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

I swerved the car and nearly flattened Mr. Potacki’s little Pomeranian. The girls shrieked and I quickly righted the car.

“What the hell, dad?!” Rebecca screeched.

“Dog in the road,” I said.

“I don’t see-” Amber started but I was already turning the corner.

It didn’t take long for the girls to calm down enough to resume their previous conversation.

“No,” said Rebecca, “that’s so stupid.”

“I think my house is haunted,” Amber whispered. She was downright giddy.

I watched Rebecca smirk in the mirror. “Haunted, huh? You don’t seem scared.”

“No…” Amber taunted. “I think it’s a lonely ghost.”

“Oh yeah?” Rebecca said. The fire was suddenly in her eyes. I realized the two girls were communing in secret right behind me in some significant but abstruse way. “What’s his name?”

Amber shook her head forcefully and Rebecca suddenly attacked her with a furious reaching of fingers and pokes. “Tell me! Tell me!”

“Ow!” Amber groaned. “Stop, stop…” The two were already huffing against each other in a giggling pile.

I regarded them coldly in the mirror. “You’re both far too old to be behaving like that.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Lighten up, dad, this is a big deal.”

“I don’t understand.”

Both girls resumed their conspiratorial smiles. “We know.”

I left them to their huddled whispers, sure of nothing else but the fact that I was most definitely not the subject of their conspiracy. Rebecca knew enough that Amber had had some sort of experience in the last 48 hours. How deeply Amber herself believed in its supernatural validity was debatable, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. My heart was going to beat heavily all throughout that day, seeing Amber or being found out, what I was about to do after I dropped them off, everything in my mind ensured that my body would be rapt and waiting for the slightest physical incitement.

Rebecca planted a swift kiss on my cheek and hurried out of the car to join the gaggle of girls gathering in the school’s parking lot. Amber pulled her long legs from under her and left her seat, closing the door promptly and pulling her dainty skirt around her calves. I was pulling the car out of neutral when she stepped back to the window.

“Mr. Beal…?”

I froze. I locked the car into park and lowered the passenger side window. She smiled shyly and leaned in.

“What is it, Amber?”

“I want to thank you.”

I raised my eyebrows in an attempt to mask the building tension in my jaw. “What?”

She pulled a lock of hair away from her lip and studied me for half a second before swallowing. “Just…the other night, talking to me.”



“Oh. No. No, not a problem, Amber. Cleared my head too, really.”


It was my turn to smile. “Yes,” I said.

“Okay,” she said happily. “Thanks again, Mr. Beal. Have a nice day!”

I waved back at her as she strode away from the car and joined Rebecca in the lot. It took five minutes to clear out of the parking lot behind the endless red lights of other vans and SUVs and then another five to get on the highway toward downtown.

Thankfully I wouldn’t need to go all the way into the city and could avoid rush hour traffic. Instead I turned off halfway down the pike and sped through the outskirts of Boulder towards the outer city park and the imposing acreage of one of the Institute’s many commercial research facilities.

I stuck my permit on the dashboard and waved at the security as I coasted in, parked, and walked determinedly up the peaceful brick walk between the glass and steel cyclinders of the complex, my hand in my pocket all the while fingering the glass vial in my pocket.

I encountered more and larger crowds of people the closer I got to Building G, most of them enthusiastic looking gentlemen in suits, some old, some surprisingly young. All of them looked hungry for something. I stopped at the employee entrance to the research zone and allowed the security officers to take my badge and frisk me (shifting my leg so that the small vial inconspicuously rolled behind my wallet). I glanced over my shoulder at the men in suits; they watched me curiously in turn. I had seen this before and I knew what it meant: the Institute was ready for business again.

After another kindly wave I was inside the building, my identity card swinging around my neck and my soles making authoritative smacks on the abandoned linoleum. Since disbanding the greater body of its advanced researchers the building was only occasionally used. The Institute had no qualms with allowing its senior staff to use the place but it discouraged too many of us gathering at once. After placing a call late Saturday evening I knew Pris would be working in G all day. After the mass outside I suspected that Pris would be doing more than working.

Priscilla Coker M.D. (with another Ph.D. on the way in advanced theoretical cellular electronics) was not a cold woman by any stretch of the imagination. At 31 she was already a leader in the field of both biological mutation and the budding nanotechnology industry, vivacious and endearing and outwardly one of the key faces of the Institute. She was 5’8″, platinum blonde (not naturally) and – as one of the key faces of the Institute – had to smile a lot and wear the sort of outfits that made lab work potentially hazardous. But the Institute needed that because most of us were not so striking to look at. Behind the veneer of Priscilla’s bright white smile, however, was an exacting, even cruel ambition. She was not, despite her high praise in the industry, its leading figure in theoretical transhumanist research. She had a good team of energetic graduates behind her that did what they were told and were rewarded accordingly. And many times over, if tales told out of school are to be believed. But there was a high burnout rate and young men in her brilliant cabal tended to last only so long. Which is not to say that Priscilla didn’t have talent. The girl could thread DNA like a fabled tailor if she ever got her hands on the right tools, and few understood the chemical reactions on the molecular level the way she did. It was never overtly clinical, her methods, but something emphatically instinctual. Public relations were as natural to her as being undressed. She was dangerous but valuable. And, after all, weren’t we after the same thing?

I found her door open, her legs shining under the heat of a solitary lamp at her desk and her knees crossed over each other in a short, red skirt. She looked up when I knocked on the door, her pale green eyes going from curious to tight in the time it took her to recognize me.

“Good morning, Pris.”

She smiled coldly. “Beal. I didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

I crossed her sterile and ordered office and sat down across from her on the other side of the desk. I appraised her shelves. “Your office is neater than anyone else I know. I suppose that’s one way to keep clean – don’t read the books.”

She sneered. “I heard one of the janitors nearly killed himself trying to get into yours. Bit of a health hazard, isn’t it? And besides,” she uncrossed her legs and leaned back, “at least I have friends.”

I leaned forward, my elbows on her desk. “You’ve got me there, Professor Coker. That’s exactly why I’m here.”

She gave a high, hollow laugh. “Moses comes down from the mountain, huh? You’re lucky you’re smart, Abner. Otherwise people might think you’re irrelevant.”

“Better that than illiterate, I always say.”

She frowned. “Why ARE you here? I really didn’t expect to see you. You’re always working.”

“I work until I get results.”

“Very funny,” she said. And stopped.

Her chair cracked as she slowly came upright. “What do you mean?”

“How are the nanites coming?” I asked casually.

“They’re still… they don’t seem to respond to photons the way we expected. The way I expected.” Ask Priscilla the right question about her work and she became just enough of a tolerable person. I never managed that trick myself. “I keep telling Corman that nanites are the wrong way to go about combatting the spectrum. I should be shifted over to neural engagement and let you and the rest of the sci-fi scum work on this whole optical nonsense.”

“Nonsense, is it?”

“It is…” She studied me coolly. “What’s up, Abner? You’re awfully pleasant for so early in the decade.”

I shrugged.

She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t have time for this now anyway. I have a presentation before the investors. Remember that atmospheric shield you opposed?”

“I don’t oppose the idea but the method is entirely wrong. If you want to create a barrier that large you need ten times the output and a completely different agent for the plutonium. It will dissolve at that speed.”

“That’s not what Bostwick says.”

“Bostwick is a quack who still thinks he can send amphibians back in time.”

Priscilla waved her hands in the air, dispelling the possibility of my rambling on about meteorological endogenics. “Whatever,” she said. “The Institute wanted me to sell it to the money.”

I stood up. “What do you mean?”

She tightened her blouse around her shoulders and gathered her papers. She grinned like a jack knife. “It means they’re apt to take me at my word, Professor, which is more than I can say for you.”

“If the Institute gets that project up and running the whole Advanced Espionage unit will be shuffled back another decade. Even if they spent half the budget recruiting new blood there’s no way they’d have the manpower and money to sustain the rest of our research.”

“So wait till next decade.” She strode out of her office. I pursued hot on her stiletto heels. “I don’t know what you’re so pissed about, Abner,” she continued, “you’ll probably be picked to lead it.”

“Over sixty five individual devices and more than two dozen research units will be compromised by investment in some ridiculous vanity project that wouldn’t pass muster at a grade school science fair!”

Pris tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed in my face. “That’s so cute! Since when did you give a shit about other units’ research?” She continued to march determinedly down the hall to the massive auditorium across campus.

“There’s a difference between science and fiction, Priscilla. And there’s such a thing as principles.”

She spun on her crimson heel. Thrusting a hand into my chest she stared up into my eyes. “Stop it right there, Abby. The Institute cares about two things: money and money. I’m sure you’re aware that you are dispensable, no matter how big your brain is. In the meantime though, why not enjoy that sloppy paycheck that comes your way every two weeks and get with the fucking program.” She narrowed her eyes.

I casually pried her fingers back from my shirt. “Language, Pris.”

She laughed another high, hollow laugh, each one of her pearly teeth glinting in the hallway lights. I watched her swallow that sound, her ruby lips puckering for a moment while she thought about what to do with me. Finally she said, “I’m going to enjoy watching you lead this vanity project. I hope your principles don’t send you and your musty office packing in a cardboard box because it,” she leaned in close, the words cutting through her teeth, “is going to feel so good to watch you try to figure out how to make Bostwick’s project fly. Because if I know anything about men with principles it’s that they’ll try to make shit smell like flowers before they admit defeat. Even you, Abner,” she pointed, again making sure she touched my chest, “will admit that. Are you really going to throw a tantrum to the Institute…just because you know the project’s a waste of your time?”

“So we’re agreed it’s a waste of time.”

She smirked and retreated back down the hall. “Of course it is. But I, unlike you, Professor Beal, have more on my mind than how super smart I am. I like to think about the number of bathrooms I’m going to have when this is all said and done.” I watched her shoulders tense as she drew her hands together. “I’m thinking six – just one more than I really need.”

“That is entirely superficial,” I said.

“Isn’t it great?” She was practically beaming with anticipation. We crossed the empty courtyard in silence and swiftly made our way to the bustling theater. She glanced into the guest entrance and quickly made for the back portico.

“Prepare to be rich,” she said and patted me on the arm. I watched her step behind the curtain and suddenly meet what sounded like hundreds of excited cheers.

I paced behind the curtain itself, listening to the opening joke about how stodgy the rest of us scientists were and how they must have all felt overdressed. Or something like that. By that point I was livid. Bostwick! An ignoramus spawned by a community of ignoramuses! What passed for science in his febrile mind would have choked a primate with its absurdity! And Priscilla knew! She welcomed it just as the Institute had because she knew it was exactly the kind of thing the investors were willing to pay for: flash and fury… There was nothing subtle about the atmospheric shield. It was just another buzz word for missile defense only now it was the twenty-first century and the magic was just within our grasp – for upwards of several billion inflated dollars!

I threw my arms about petulantly and felt ridiculous. Hadn’t I just come to reinvigorate this greedy place? One swig of this elixir and disappear! No need to invest in overpriced tomfoolery when you could send some invisible operative to just deactivate the enemy’s defenses. No missiles required! All it needed now was testing – testing to make sure the effects lasted, that there were no side-effects, that it worked. Hell, I knew it worked…

No missiles required.

I glanced over my shoulder at Priscilla’s erect posture while she dazzled the murmuring crowd with facts and figures and a questionably tasteful decolletage. She was right; she could sell them on it. She was poised, confident, and well organized.

The security was guarding the outside doors, not the inside. There were men at the foot of the stage but no one behind the curtain. I reached into my pocket and pulled the vial out. It caught the reflections of the stage lights in its thin glass, the liquid within shimmering where the light didn’t quite refract the way it should have. Why did I bring it anyway? For science.

I popped the rubber cork and drank it, not stopping to think, as I swiftly began to unbutton my shirt, what would happen if this invisibility gag was all in my mind when I stepped out in front of three or four hundred monied ladies and gentlemen. If it worked as quickly as last time I’d only need a few minutes for it to take effect. If it didn’t last as long as last time I could be in for trouble. But what was I going to do exactly?

I was already down to my boxer shorts and black socks when my fingers drained of all their color. It was like staring through a glass statue, my forearm. I trailed my fingers down my chest and watched chest hair hang in space and then shorten and vanish. I reached down and pulled the sock off of nothing at all, then the other, finally drawing my boxers from mid-air to the ground. I was gone.

“Priscilla,” I whispered into her ear, “do you believe in ghosts?”

The girl snapped her head to the side as if a bullet had swiped across her face. She hadn’t heard me come up behind her from around the curtain and, despite my lifelong stage fright, picturing myself naked in front of the fully clothed assembly was doing much more to inspire my confidence than the other way around. As soon as she turned her head I tapped her on the opposite shoulder – just like some kind of looney tune! She started and whipped to the side, suddenly reaching out into nothing.

I backtracked quickly behind her and let the projector at the far end of the auditorium glide through me to the opposing screen. The happy murmurings of the crowd had suddenly frozen; the whole gathering waiting to understand what had happened. Priscilla, ever the diplomat, smiled broadly and apologized for the sudden interruption. There was a mad fly looking to sabotage the operation. That got an appreciative chuckle from the crowd.

She went on with the speech, the projection behind us outlining the basic planning stages of Bostwick’s idiot schematics. I couldn’t have that. I moved back beside Priscilla and breathed softly in her ear. I had to hand it to the girl, she had talent. All she did was deftly cup her ear, as if pulling a stary hair back around her earlobe (which, for anyone close enough, was ridiculous – each of her hairs was perfectly in place). Then I glided behind her and blew into the next. When she waved that off I suddenly realized just how many were in the crowd before us.

Tentatively I strode towards the edge of the stage. I stared out at the legion of faces, even waved my privates at them, stuck out my tongue, made crazy grimaces. Nothing, no one could see me. I cast no shadow. I danced before the projector and made not a single impression. This was brilliant!

Of course I still hadn’t achieved my objective. So I sallied back to Priscilla and decided to do something drastic. I placed two fingers, very gently, on the back of her neck.

Her whole body went bolt upright but she continued her drone. Perhaps it wasn’t noticeable to the eyes in the back but those at the front were visibly bemused. Priscilla by now realized there was something on stage with her but I was just over her shoulder and I could see her scan her periphery and then the eyes of the audience. No one, not even her, could see anyone but her.

I let my fingers glide down her back, over the fabric of her suit jacket. One elbow tried to nonchalantly brush me away but the gesture was too awkward to carry off, so she swung her arm back, right into my face. Her fingers gave a trembling spasm as they connected with my nose and she couldn’t help but turn. But no, I still wasn’t there, but yes, she did let out a yelp.

Priscilla was by the second looking more frantic – not afraid, but suddenly on unfamiliar ground. She returned to the podium and gripped the sides of the lectern with overeager excitement. Now she had happened on a stilted tangent about the return on investment the bigwigs were guaranteed. Most of them were still on board. Some of them looked unconvinced.

When she went for the lectern she removed herself from my radius, but that was easily remedied. I came up behind her again and drew my fingers down her back. Her legs were shaking behind the podium, each muscle punished by the high stilettos and sweat actually visible in the spaces behind her knees. I wasn’t sure how far I intended to go but my hand was now resting on her impressively toned buttocks. The red skirt glided under my fingertips but still, even still, Priscilla continued to sell it.

So I gently brushed the skirt back and reached underneath. It ocurred to me, even at this stage, that this was twice now I’d used invisibility to my voyeuristic advantage. I wondered if the corruption was inevitable. Yet how corrupt was seeing a round, flexed bottom (my fingers crept stealthily past the band of her panties and into the wet crevice of her ass crack) and not experimenting?

Below Priscilla’s waist everything was shaking. It was as if her legs were caught in a miniature earthquake and her upper body was capable of floating above it. But I could see the tremors in the white knuckles on the podium. And we both knew that she couldn’t risk giving anything away to the attentive eyes in the darkness. I slipped deeper into her ass crack, coming behind her and laying a hand over her left fist. Priscilla glanced at it, glanced at where she figured my shoulders were, and after a sudden eruption of laughter or applause from the audience I heard her whisper away from the microphone, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“You stop I’ll stop,” I whispered into her ear.

“You don’t have the balls.”

My hand slipped underneath her. I twisted my palm and pressed my fingers between her legs. I cupped her vagina and sunk my middle finger up inside her.

Priscilla’s sudden gasp was swallowed by a cascading round of applause.

“Okay,” she whispered as the applause died down. “Okay…” But even as she said it I watched her tighten her resolve and simultaneously felt her vaginal muscles tighten around my finger. She was going to try to ride it out. Ride was the operative word.

I began rocking my middle finger back and forth inside of her. Priscilla caught herself just before her knees buckled, then caught herself again as she tried to rock with it. The intense sweat collecting underneath her made her extremely slippery and my wrist and forearm were already damp wedged up against her body. I decided to send an exploratory thumb up into her anus.

“Polychromatic cells go beyond mere shading in this instance and na-ahhhhhhh!” Her sudden (almost erotic) outburst sent more than a few men to attention. It was as if I held her erect with my right hand, my left hand locked over hers, my fingers plugged into her body and her lower body noncomittally trying to force me out. “Nnmm,” she went on. “The fibers…” I wiggled my ring finger up inside what felt like a thick labial lip. “The fibers…” she gasped. “Ah.” She wet her lips and let out a tremendous breath. “To create this process, we…” My slick middle finger withdrew from her vagina and I slipped it gently up…

“We…” she tried again (the audience could not see her ass gently arching back onto my thumb, her back twisting).

My finger fondled.

“Oh,” she sniffed. “We, uh, ahm. Excuse me.”

My middle finger wicked across her clitoris.

“OH my God!” she suddenly blurted into the microphone. She slapped her hands over her mouth and darted to the right of the stage. My hand still stuck inside her panties I was dragged offstage with her, a weird fin-like protrusion seeming to hump out behind the girl’s skirt.

I finally pulled my hand away from her as she stalked through the theater doors and started lambasting the air.

“You dirty fucking bastard!” she shouted. The security guard started moving towards her and she shrieked at him. “Get away from me, asshole!” The man spoke some stuttered words into his walkie and backed away terrified. Priscilla clomped about ten more steps before cracking one of her heels. She swore loudly and kicked the shoe off, then ripped the other one off with her hand and continued to march across campus back the way we’d come. I followed behind her.

“Are you there?” she snapped as we strode back into G. We were in the hallway again.

“Indeed I am.”

She clawed wildly at the air behind her, realized she looked insane, and let out another stream of enraged curses.

“You might have gotten me fired!”

“Principles,” came the floating voice over her shoulder.

She groaned and shook her platinum head. “You touched me…” she muttered. We were stomping back to her office.

“You’re taking this rather well,” I replied.

“Well you’re obviously fucking invisible.”

“Language, Pris.”

We banged back into her office and she whirled on the space behind her. “Where are you?”

“I’m reluctant to say.”

She stepped backwards in her bare feet and sat on her desk. “Is this easier?”

I stepped forward cautiously. “Maybe.”

She flipped up her skirt. “Is this easier?”

“…I’m confused.”

“Come here…” she said huskily and reached out for me. “Are you naked?”

Before I knew what I’d done I was standing over her desk and she was reaching out to me. Her fingers first brushed my cock and I watched her eyes go wide as my stiff member passed invisibly through her hand. “Oh my God…” she whispered. Her manicured nails sifted into my pubic hair and roved up my stomach and chest. “You’re…you fucking did it…” Her fingers continued across my shoulders. She kept pinching and poking, dragging her nails down my sides. All the while I noticed that she was spreading her legs over her perfect desk. “Do something to me,” she whispered.


“I- I don’t know. My hair!”

I reached out and swept my fingers through her thin blonde, nearly white, hair. I let the hair slip through my hand as I pulled it towards me. Priscilla watched wide eyed as her hair floated before her eyes. She let out a low, earthy laugh. “Do something else,” she whispered.


“Do what you did on stage, you bastard.”

“This?” I laid my hand over her left hand.

“No…” she said. Her legs opened wider on the desk.

“This?” I breathed softly into her ear.

She shivered but shook her head. “No,” she said. “But you don’t have to stop doing that…” While I moved in closer her hands reached up to run down my chest and stomach again.

I pulled my hand away from hers and dragged my trembling fingers up her soft thighs. “This?” I breathed into her ear.

“Oh…” Her breath was coming so rapidly that it was catching in her throat.

I drew a finger over her (what I now saw were lacy, crimson) panties. She sucked a tremendous amount of air down her upturned mouth and fluttered her eyelids. “This?” I said into her ear as I slipped my fingers inside of her.

Her legs clamped shut over my invisible hand and she ground her pussy against me. “Yes,” she groaned. She pressed her head against my temple and reached behind me to claw at my back. “Oh, you fuck…” she groaned.

I don’t know what possessed me other than sheer, powerful lust. I reached down and tore her panties apart. She gasped as she saw the flimsy material fly from her bald pussy. “You wouldn’t,” she taunted.

“This?” I said, and pushed my cock up against her skirt.

“Bastard,” she whispered, reaching for it and dragging it down. “Bastard,” she moaned as she led it to the entrance of her slit. “Fuck me,” she demanded as her thighs raised to allow me entrance into her-


The two of us slammed back to reality as the voice came bawling from the hall. “Holy Hell…” Priscilla rasped as the sound of footsteps came trundling towards us. Gathering her bag and a few choice items she grabbed where she figured my wrist was (missed, but I grabbed her fingers) and pulled me out her office door and down the hall in the opposite direction. Both of us were barefoot and our soles slapped down the hall and made several extreme turns around and around the complex, all the time the voices behind us, all the while more footfalls in pursuit. At last we burst from the building and sprinted towards the parking lot.

“You have to make sure I don’t get fired!” she yelled over the racing wind.

“Why’s that?”

“Sexual harassment!” she screamed. We scurried over the grass and flew into the parking lot. “Where’s your-” She must have realized I was either invisible or without pockets because she suddenly pulled to the left and started pumping her elegant legs towards her own car. “Are you there?” she called back.

“I am,” I said at her side.

She panted. “How are you right there?”

“I run a lot.”

She unlocked her doors from a distance and we piled in on either side.

“I did not intend to get you fired,” I said.

“Right,” she replied. “Fuck you just the same, Abner.” She started the car and we pulled out fast. “And if you don’t mind, nobody needs to know about what may or may not have almost happened back there. This has been an incredibly stupid morning.”

I buckled the seatbelt over myself and Priscilla did a double take.

“That’s so weird.”

We pulled away from the complex and got back on the highway towards suburbia.

“Okay, look,” she said, dragging her fingers through her hair. “I’m going to try to salvage this. I’ll tell Corman and the heads that you’re on top of this.” (She seemed awkward with the phrase.) “I’ll tell them… I had a bluetooth or something and you had a eureka moment or… Dammit, Abner, you better not have got me fired!”

“You’re still taking this well.”

“Because fuck Bostwick!” she bellowed. “You’re invisible!” She reached over and spread her hands over my chest. “And you’re…in much better shape than I imagined.”

“You imagined?”

“You’re still a pain in the ass, Beal. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

“But I am a genius.”

“Unfortunately,” Prisiclla sighed, merging into the carpool lane, “you are.”

“You’re in the HOV.”

“So what?” She thought for a moment. “Right.” She merged back into the fast lane. “I will help you,” she said. “But you have to help me, too.”

“That’s why I came to you.”

“You can’t tell anyone else for now. Who else knows? Your wife? You have a wife, right?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Who knows?”

Briefly I thought of Amber. “No one,” I said. “And,” I continued, “the formula is not in my laboratory.”

She glanced at me, or the window really, from behind her blonde tresses. “So what?”

“In case you were thinking of having the Institute take what they rightfully own…instead of firing you.”

She turned back to the road. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

We drove on in uneasy silence.


I gave her directions to my address and she drove me home. It was almost one in the afternoon but it already felt like a whole day had passed. I had taken the serum only two hours before so I had at least four (and likely five) more hours until I was visible. It would be strange, I realized, when I saw Priscilla again. Being invisible, without meeting one’s eyes in reflection, gave a curious but compelling objectivity to one’s consciousness – and at the same time an inescapably powerful lack of accountability. I could never have done the things I’d done in the past few days if they could see my face.

But it wasn’t just that they couldn’t see my face, Amber, Priscilla, my wife, the audience… It was that I had no face at all. I was not simply myself invisible; I was a void: a complete non-entity who nevertheless had hands and blood. And could do things. And could both create and destroy while being nothing, nowhere at all. I resolved not to think on this too deeply. It was not my way, and I wondered if it was not to my advantage to ponder too deeply on how unfettered and unopposed I had become.

“Can you get inside without a key?” Priscilla asked.

“I’ll find a way,” I said. I unbuckled the belt and opened the door. “Thank you.”

She reached out. I stopped. She held my forearm in her fingers, not out of longing but curiosity. I let her study it, pinch me again, feel my veins beneath my skin and the hair under her thumb. “You really did it, Abednego,” she said. “You sick bastard.” She gave me an alluring, half-mocking smirk and watched the door swing wide and shut. Then she peeled away from the driveway and zoomed out of the suburbs honking all the while. We had agreed to meet at the week’s end when she had had time to smooth over the mess I’d caused.

At the very least I had saved over sixty-five projects from total obscurity, and the jobs of at least half that number. Not something I would have considered before and, in truth, my actions this morning were selfish ones. Yet selfish actions can have charitable results, now and again.

My front door was unlocked.

I hadn’t really thought about it. I’d just wandered to the front door, forgetting my nudity and the fact that I was keyless, and pantsless besides. But the knob turned and swung open in my hand. I denied the urge to call out, to ask if anyone was home.

Because there was very definitely someone home.

I could hear them upstairs. At first, as I searched the bottom floor, all I heard was a muddled bumping, an inconstant creak that was gone as soon as I focused. But there was a greater urgency to the sound, a harder force behind it. The commotion was building somewhere and it was becoming clearer that whoever was causing it was certain they were alone.

The sound of a woman’s voice filled the house. It echoed down the stairwell with an unquiet command, wild, gaining ferocity and passion as it bounced throughout the kitchen. Was it Rebecca, I wondered? Had she cut class and come wandering home with some teenage specimen of fumbling ardor? It sounded too harsh for Rebecca.

She stood shifting from one foot to the other, her slinky silky dark blue dress rising mid thigh. She twirled her long dark brown hair round a couple of fingers on her right hand as she shivered, waiting outside the restaurant, her other hand holding her tiny clutch bag with her essentials in it.

Rachel glanced at the clock inside, he was 5 minutes late and she hated to enter somewhere alone, so she continued to wait. Chewing her lip nervously she began to wonder if perhaps Nate wouldn’t show.

They had met some months previously on a chat site, nothing sinister, nothing sexual…at first…but as time went on they discovered how much they had in common. Their interests didn’t just include reading and similar taste in music, both of them were in loveless, tired relationships and longed for company, for a connection, for total intimacy.

Rachel knew her relationship would be over soon, her short fling with Steve was pretty empty and just suited them both for a short time, it was Nate’s situation she found much more concerning.

Nate had drawn her in, his charming American humour, his gorgeous brown eyes in his photos, his willingness to share, before he’d dropped a bombshell. He’d waited until she had opened herself up to connecting with him, agreed to meet in the flesh, before he mentioned his wife…

He had just dropped it in as if mentioning he liked milk in his coffee or milk chocolate instead of white chocolate, Rachel had sat open mouthed at her computer screen when she read, ‘eh yeah I meant to mention I have a wife’.

Thing was though, she couldn’t stop contacting him, she was fascinated by him.

And there he was…walking towards her, grinning like a kid in a candy store, smart in a grey shirt and black trousers. His top buttons undone, exposing dark curly brown hairs. Rachel flushed as soon as she saw him, nervously she dared, ‘Nate?’

He nodded, ‘Hey honey’,he curled an arm round her waist and kissed her cheek, ‘mm you smell delicious’.

They talked over dinner, Rachel sharing about growing up in London and how she was finding it in New York. Nate was enthralled by her and the lilt of her voice. He touched her hand lightly over the table, his other hand brushing her knee. She tried to keep talking but his touch, his cute American accent, the lack of wedding ring on his marked finger made her dizzy with anticipation.

Nate invited her back to his hotel room and Rachel politely accepted. As she stood by the lift Nate picked his key up from reception, Rachel studied the receptionist helping him. Her eyes fixated on the blonde’s plump breasts. Rachel suddenly realised the receptionist and Nate were looking at her, embarrassed she looked away.

In the lift together the air was heavy with anticipation, with nerves, with excitement. Rachel was accutely aware of Nate’s stocky figure beside her, for a man a good twenty years her senior he was muscular and clearly a regular gym user. Nate kept glancing at her, fascinated by her luscious curves, her low cut dress, her smooth skin, her pert 25 year old body.

Before they reached their floor Nate stepped closer to her, his groin against her bum, his hands sliding onto her hips and he leant in close to whisper in her ear, ‘Rach,are you sure you want to act out what we discussed online? You can change your mind’.

Rachel’s heart pounded like crazy in that moment, this handsome American, his wife unsuspecting at home, coming on to her, arousing her so quickly, making her dizzy with anticipation. Without turning round Rachel whispered back, ‘I’ve never been more sure of anything’,with that the lift doors opened and Rachel followed Nate to the room, his fingers curling round hers, leading her to a night of extreme passion.

He encouraged her to sit on the edge of the couch as he fetched her a drink. She perched nervously and once he passed her a glass of white wine she settled back a little further. They made small talk and Nate nursed a small glass of whiskey.

When he set his glass down Rachel knew…she knew there was no more waiting. Wordlessly he reached round the small of her back and pulled her close to him. He kissed her neck and firmly held her still. She groaned very softly and pushed her glass away, her soft hands reaching up along his bare arms, his sleeves rolled up.

He groaned as he kissed her and she massaged his arms, he moaned and whispered, ‘God I want you’.

She replied,’Have me…’.

He lifted her into his arms immediately, his manhood stiffening at her response to him. He would not miss an opportunity to have this young woman, to take her in the way they had talked of online..

Rachel lay on her front, Nate pulled her ass in the air and he knelt on all fours. He pulled at her dress and lifted it up, but didn’t remove it, they had talked of this and he acted it out just as they’d said.

Nate pushed Rachels bra up so he could grope her full breasts, greedily squeezing them hard as he became more aroused. Rachel groaned, she could feel Nate’s body close to her now, pressed up against her. At some point he had slid his trousers and briefs down because she could feel his bare cock pressing on her ass.

Rachel groaned and cried out for him, begging to be fucked. Nate laughed then, pleased at her desperation for him, he knew her fingers were inside, working her clit, preparing for him. He slid a couple of fingers into her, both of them groaning with the pleasure.

She rocked back on his fingers as he roughly fingered her. Suddenly his fingers were out of her pussy and into her asshole. Shocked at the change she cried out in pain. He reassured her he would slow down and just worked at her ass with one finger at first. Rachel had never had her ass worked, she groaned as it hurt but moaned with delight too.

She was enjoying it and her pleasure made him stiffen more, he began to throb for her. She reached back as he continued to finger her ass and she began to work his shaft, making him harder and ready for her…

At first she didn’t realise the change, she thought it must be two fingers in her hole now, but as his hands came to grope her tits again she realised his cock was going up her ass.

She cried out in pain, with pleasure, with disbelief at the size of him, his girth and how wet she had become. He only pushed a part of himself in her ass, careful not to hurt her too much, enough to tease her, to cause her to cry out for him.

Then he pulled out and pushed her up to the beds head, she clung onto it and he rammed into her pussy. She screamed and he told her to tell him what she wanted.

‘More,more’, she cried, ‘more cock Nate,more Nate’.

His cock swelled when she used his name, he worked up a steady pace, in and almost fully out, in and out, in and out. Then he pumped her, he just went for it. She was crying out obscene words, names, she was worked up and he loved it. He couldn’t hold back any further and shot his load up her.

Rachel shuddered as she climaxed because of the sudden rush of warm fluid inside her. She screamed out as he kept fucking her, he would not relent as she shook on him.

When they were spent she collapsed on her front and he lay on top of her, his weight holding her down. His cum trickling down her legs, their sweaty bodies as one.

‘Where does your wife think you are?’ She asked him.

He smiled and nibbled her shoulder playfully, ‘she knows’.

Rachel was shocked at his answer and glanced back at him, ‘Huh?’

Nate smiled, ‘She encourages me ‘cos I need more sex than her so she tells me to get it elsewhere, so this can be regular if you like?’

Rachel smiled and reached up to his thigh, stroking, wanting to arouse him again…

I woke up to the familiar pain in my ass as something hard slid in and out of me- teasing. I moaned into my pillow, cursing myself for smoking so much last night, cursing my laziness; I hadn’t ripped, but something felt off. I didn’t open my eyes, couldn’t get to my knees because he was holding my down by my neck; but not choking me like he usually did…

In fact, his hands felt wrong, and-

Holy shit it wasn’t his cock.

Whoever was in me was much bigger then my master, and much, much, quieter. When I realized that it wasn’t him, I screamed! I heard a laugh- it sounded odd, the accent, I knew the accent from… somewhere… from… the bathhouse? Yes, I knew that voice from the bathhouse; I could feel smooth fur dancing across my legs- it was the servant who had waited on us last night!

“What the hell?” I raised my head, stared at the dark wood stained in front of me and tried to remember where I was. I must still be in my master’s hotel room. Where was he? Did he know about this? Was I supposed to be doing this? I heard that fucking laugh again- it was starting to piss me off.

“Don’t worry- I’m not gonna hurt ya’,” his voice has a soothing effect, “Your boss said that you had some kind of thing today, but I wouldn’t hurt ya’ anyway. Just been a long time since I’ve been with a lapin.”

“mm-hmm…” I tried to turn my head to look at him, for my master, anything that would give me a clue as to what was going on.

He was really starting to make me sore- I very rarely wished this upon myself, but if he was going to keep popping in and out like that it was going to leave me very hurt, and gaping for a little while. The opposite of what I needed if my master was going to be showing off my healing power. Plus, for some reason, I didn’t have the same kind of respect I usually had for my tops; I just wasn’t afraid of this guy… Strange… The hangover was killing me and I pulled the pillow back up to bury my face in it.

“That hurts- those shallow thrusts,” I mumbled into the pillowcase, as much bravery as I could muster.

He stopped, with his dick right outside, and moved to his knees; I could feel him take the weight off of me. “What?” he asked, and grabbed my hair, so I couldn’t lose my voice in the pillow, “I can’t hear ya’.”

“Those shallow thrusts hurt,” I sighed, hoping I hadn’t just brought something horrible on myself.

“Heh, so you do talk.” I could see him now, the way he was holding my head- he wasn’t as young as I had pegged him for, but he couldn’t be much older then I was, “So I guess that means… hmm… I was trying not to stretch you out, but if that’s what you want,” he was laughing. I had made a mistake.

And he rammed his entire length inside me! I screamed; I had seen it yesterday- could feel my body contorting around him; I scrambled, pulling myself forward, grabbing for the headboard, all that I succeeded in doing was shoving the pillow under my chest and banging my head. There were tears in my eyes; I couldn’t see for them, but not of sorrow or anything like that. He stopped, and held me there by my waist, moaning as I squirmed to try and find some way to make the intruder comfortable- he was far past the spot that my master had conditioned me to love; he was so far inside me- farther then anyone had ever gone. I felt like he was ripping me apart.

“Please, please, please,” I begged, but he held me firm.

“You’re alright,” he pulled out just a little, “It’s what you wanted.”

“I changed my mind, I can’t- I can’t… Holy fuck, what the fuck are you? How is… this possible?” I gasped for breath as he slammed back into me. I could feel his balls brush up against mine, our hips met, he was completely inside me again, there was no pleasure from it at all, my insides felt like they were burning; I wasn’t ripped but I have no idea why not.

“heh,” I heard the familiar laugh of my master; I turned my head to see him eating breakfast and sipping tea, “He must really like you, he never talks this much.”

Ok, so he knew. How long had he been sitting there? There was a little sitting room off to the side where I had stood looking out the window, that couch place- he must’ve been in there and just moved to the table. That eased most of my fears, but did nothing to stop the pounding, the electricity that was flying through my entire body every time the fucking goat slammed into me.

I laid my head down on the bedsheets and wept softly into them. Braced my forehead with my arm so that when he pounded me, I wouldn’t bang my head again. He was being slow and gentle, and I sent a prayer of thanks up for that.

“Here, Xac,” my master put his cup down and came to comfort me. He turned to the guy behind me, “hold on a sec, you’ve got a bad angle.” He moved the pillow that I had buried under my chest to my groin, forcing my ass higher- that suddenly felt better, “Keep your back arched, Xac. Here, prop yourself up a sec.” I lifted myself, my arms didn’t want to support my frame, as he slid another pillow under the first one. Now I wasn’t exactly on my knees (my top was a head shorter then I was at any rate) but he was fucking me like I was. “Better?” he asked.

“Much smoother,” the servant replied, and I realized that Master was talking with him, even though he had been squeezing my hand. But the angle was better; it still hurt, but the rubbing wasn’t as random as it had been; I could feel my insides stretching, filling up, but his cock was hitting everything, and the pain edges my mind with a steady buildup of pleasure. I couldn’t really move, and I knew I was being a bad fuck, but he didn’t seem to notice. I closed my eyes and concentrated on getting whatever enjoyment I could-

He was just so deep- the only part that really hurt was where his head had split me open. I was used to the normal pain involved when you have to stretch to fit someone who’s a little to wide, but I had never had someone so deep inside my guts before. Somehow, that image made me feel a little better; so did the friction I got from the pillows as my cock started to stand at attention, and I let out a moan.

“mmm, there you go,” the servant addressed me, “just relax.”

“uh-hu,” I mewed happily; I understood what he was talking about- he was hitting me in the right spots now, he didn’t pull back much, and he was going in a slow, but steady and smooth rhythm. I really wished that he had let me lube him up a little, but the extra friction seemed to be really working for him. I was just beginning to think that there was a possibility that I might be able to cum myself, felt my body tensing, when he shot so deep inside me that I let out another scream, softer, in alarm- and closed in on him.

He said nothing, but made low noises that lost any human sound- I hadn’t expected it, but it seemed like it wouldn’t stop. He was convulsing uncontrollably, not the way a man normally does, but expanding at least twice his size; still pumping- I couldn’t form words, couldn’t think, I was blinded somehow. He dug his nails into my back and I squirmed- he loved it. I needed it to stop- the pain was back, I was filled to capacity! I howled but he kept going! How was he cumming this much? For this long?

I bucked against him- when I tried to pull away it just hurt more; for some reason, the deeper he went the less it hurt- and tried to keep him in the same spot, moved with his body- which was causing my cock to rub harder and faster against the pillows. My master must’ve seen the look on my face, because I heard the words, “Xac, it’s alright.”

Oh thank god. I reached for my cock as the man behind me bore down, slamming me into the bed-frame, probably leaving a knot, and pinning my other arm there. The explosion inside me seemed to taper off, but I was thankful- as my healing kicked in around him, the euphoria set in- I wished that he would take that force and set it around my neck instead of my arm- I wonder….

“choke me?” I asked, but I said it much fiercer then I had meant to, and he obliged. As the tingling sensation took hold of me and I lost the feeling in my hands, his full weight seemed to bear down between his hands and his cock and I was stuck there, impaled on him; I twitched violently and shot all over the bedsheets. I wanted him to let go, to know that it was alright, but he was somehow still cumming inside me.

This was insane. When I thought that the pummeling was finally going to drive me mad, he suddenly pulled out, in a motion as smooth as he had went in, and left me empty. He must’ve jumped up in that same motion, because when I turned around, he was already washing his hands in the basin and thanking my master. I was crying- I didn’t know why.

I really expected my ass to ache like it had yesterday, to be stretched, torn, unusable, but it didn’t. I didn’t have any pain, if anything, the euphoria of my body healing, tightening back up was all. I was sitting in my own mess with the pillows under my knees, so I reached down and hugged them, trying to get my breathing back- trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. After the money and the pleasantries, he came back over and rested a few inches from my face. He was cute, he really was, and young, but I didn’t know what to make of him. I had made a mistake not fearing him.

“I hope I see you again,” he smiled, “You were the best one yet.” He tussled my hair and planted a kiss on my forehead.

“Thank you?” I asked in awe as he headed out the door, locking it in place behind him.

“What did you think?” my master asked, biting into a pastry, then added with a laugh, “You’ll probably be leaking for a while.”

“What…” I searched for the right words, “Master, what are they?”

“Satyrs.” he said simply, turning some kind of large book over in his hands- on the front were pictures drawn of the festival below, “They built this city and holed themselves up in it. They’re very good customers, but I don’t want you to get used to it. They’ve got some kind of magic about them that’s supposed to lure people in and keep them here until they’re so wasted and broke- their wallets” he added, seeing the look on my face, “broke meaning their wallets are empty. I looked him over, he wasn’t that thick, you’ll be fine. Just thought you should try it once.”

I stood up and sat back down, I was leaking- everywhere.

“Don’t worry about it,” my master laughed, staring at me, “They’re the ones who are going to have to clean it up. Come sit with me and have some breakfast.”

There was a time when working at the North Pole was an honor reserved for elves, but the internet changed all that. Elves became online entrepreneurs, marketers, freelance writers or brokers. They also began to move to warmer climates as it became clear that they no longer needed to be seen to be believed. With the departure of hundreds of elves from Santa’s Workshop, jobs opened up and humans seemed to be the next logical source of employees.

I was skeptical, of course, when my Operations Manager came and told me that we needed to cast a broader net to bring in quality employees. Humans, I told him, are great. They can be incredibly smart, kind, creative and the women? Well, let’s just say that when the kids weren’t around, Mommy was doing more than just kissing Santa. But humans tend not to be particularly discreet and there’s still a mystique about Santa and the North Pole that needs to be protected. Bringing in humans could jeopardize all of that, I argued, no matter how desperately we might need the help.

But the reality finally sunk in that we couldn’t run the massive organization that was Santa’s Workshop without proper staffing and so was created NPA Human Resources, Inc. — our own head hunting organization. I wanted only the best and brightest working under me, and my elves set out to bring them in.


I was thirty two years old when I first met Nick. Divorced and looking to change up things in my life, I answered a somewhat cryptically worded ad for a “Seasonal Events Director.” I had three telephone interviews before they told me that the next step would involve flying me to corporate headquarters to meet the CEO. I was surprised at both the plane ride and the CEO visit. It all seemed like a lot for a seasonal job. But then I thought, “What the Hell.” If nothing else, it would be a distraction from my current situation.

When I landed on a snowy airstrip in the middle of nowhere and stepped out onto the frozen tarmac, it occurred to me that I might have made a mistake. It was cold. Really cold. But I dutifully followed the diminutive guy with the sign that said, “Ashley Cantor” into the terminal, past the luggage rack — “We’ll bring it, don’t worry” he said, without slowing down — and into a long red limousine.

We drove for about twenty minutes in silence. I looked out the window and saw little but snow: snow on the ground; snow falling from the sky; snow hills even and what could possibly have been icebergs. But, I reasoned, it was impossible that a plane ride so short could have deposited me somewhere near an iceberg.

“Um…” I started, “Where, exactly, are we?”

The small man responded simply, “You’ll have to wait. We’ll be there in a minute.”

The limo glided to a halt in front of a massive building. Massive doesn’t even seem to quite capture the size of it though. It seemed never to end. As if I was simply incapable of seeing it all. My escort, reading my thoughts, said “It’s bigger than it looks.” I was speechless, and decided to just observe and wait.

“This is the residence hall,” he said, leading me through a series of doors. “And this,” he pushed open a small wooden door that led into a very homey-looking space, “is for you.” I gasped as I walked past him into a cozy, yet luxurious, living room. A fire was lit and the lights were dimmed. It smelled like cranberries and cinnamon. Plush furniture invited me to curl up with a good book and have a glass of wine. “This is ridiculous!” I said. He laughed. “Yeah. Well, it’s home. Anyway, here’s your bags. We’ve arranged a meeting with you and…um…Mr. …Claus for dinner. Just dial two seven when you’re ready, and someone will pick you up and bring you to the central offices. “No rush,” he added. He produced my luggage and left me in my new home.

I took off my coat and threw it on a chair, glancing at the wall clock. Not quite four in the afternoon. I grabbed my suitcase and wandered through the kitchen with its warm tile work and wooden table and down the short hallway, lit with candle sconces, into a cozy bedroom. I set down my case and touched what looked like a light switch. I could have sworn that the bedroom candles suddenly lit. But, I reasoned, they must be fake. All the same, the room had a beckoning feel that made me feel comforted and aroused at the same time.

I sat on the bed and sunk into the soft comforter. The luxuriousness of the room convinced me that I should, perhaps, just crawl under the covers for a moment, just to experience the full impact. I peeled off the pants and sweater that I’d worn for the plane ride and stripped off my panties and bra. Feeling excited, I slipped under the warm blankets. The temperature was as if someone had just left the bed, and I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining a man’s hands sliding over my body. Since my husband’s departure almost a year earlier, no man had touched me. I missed the satisfaction of being caressed and held. I wanted so badly to feel someone inside me, fucking me until I exploded.

I slid my hand down between my legs, softly circling my clit. “I have a meeting,” I reprimanded myself. But the candles flickered, and the room seemed to warm up. My body began to tingle and I felt a growing desire. I turned onto my stomach and pulled the plush pillows under my body, crouching on all fours and rubbing my clit harder. I fantasized that I had climbed on top of a huge cock and it was driving into me again and again. I frantically rubbed until I felt an exquisite orgasm radiate through my body. I drove my fingers into my dripping pussy, pounding against my swollen lips. I slowed the pace of my pounding, and caressed my throbbing clit. Eventually I rolled over and tossed the covers off to the side. The temperature of the room was perfect and I felt as if I could have stayed there forever. I closed my eyes and smiled, enjoying the calm that follows an awesome orgasm.

I was awakened by a pounding at the front door. “Oh SHIT!” I yelped, as I leapt out of bed. I threw open the suitcase and pulled out my new work outfit. “Be right there!” I yelled to the door. “Shit shit shit!” I repeated as I pulled on my panties and nylons, clasped my bra and slipped into my blouse. I pulled my skirt up, grabbed my jacket and shoes and raced down the hall. At the door, I threw my shoes to the floor and stepped into them as I buttoned the blouse up and tucked it in. I was just throwing on my jacket and smoothing my hair as I flung open the door.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I blurted, leaving the door hanging open as I turned and trotted into the living room to grab my purse off of the chair where I’d deposited my coat earlier. “I’ll be right there. I’m just…oh, God, what time is it?” I glanced up at the clock and felt a thrill of remorse as I saw that two hours had passed. I spun back around to face the stranger who’d knocked at my door and stuttered “I’m…I’m…so…”

“I know,” he said softly. “It’s okay.” The stranger held out his hand and looked at me with the sexiest, bluest eyes I’d ever seen. I felt myself blushing as a tried to meet his gaze. It seemed that he was looking right through me and the smile he gave me reminded me that I hadn’t washed my hands after my recent adventure in the bedroom. I reached out to shake his hand anyway, not knowing what else to do, and his smile broadened. He took my hand and pulled me to him in a hug that was so gentle and heartfelt that it felt like a lovers embrace. I felt the warmth between my legs start all over again as he stepped away from me, moving his hands to my elbows. He held me at arms-length and seemed to assess me anew. “Sorry, Ashley,” he grinned. “We’re huggers around here.” He could have been a sophisticated forty five, or a youthful seventy. It was almost impossible to tell. His hair was gray but full and wavy. His eyes crinkled when he smiled and his dimples made me want to kiss his cheeks. A five o’clock shadow gave him a rugged look that only made him even sexier. He wasn’t tall, maybe five foot nine or ten, but the brief hug proved that his body was solid and toned.

I’d just met this man, but for some reason, I wanted to pull him down onto the fireside rug and lick every inch of his body.


The first time I met Ashley, she smelled like sex. I’d waited for my assistant to bring her to me, but finally hunger forced me to seek her out myself. Elves are good helpers, but whatever isn’t done by five o’clock…well, you might as well forget it. And obviously, she hadn’t made a call by five because there was no sign of her or anyone else around the office when I poked my head out at five thirty. So I jumped into the sleigh and rode over to the residence hall. I figured she’d probably made the mistake of thinking that she could call at five o’six and get someone to answer, then didn’t know what to do when no one actually was there. But her harried state when she threw open the door to me told me that she’d fallen asleep. And the scent of pussy in the air told me that she’d apparently been busy before that. The interesting thing about elf residences is that they are imbued with magic that amplifies whatever you’re thinking about and makes it that much more intense. So if you’re enjoying the warm room, it’s warmer. If you’re turned on, suddenly you want to fuck whoever is with you so bad that if you’re not used to the sensation, it can overcome your normal resistance. I knew that she was alone, so I could pretty much put two and two together and figure out why she’d missed our dinner interview.

But God, she was gorgeous. Her legs were slim and attractive, elevated a bit by her heels and accentuated by the short skirt. Her breasts were full and sexy, especially since she’d missed a button or two at the top, and I could clearly see her lacy bra. Her hair was a tiny bit rumpled and the temperature of the room rose a little when she bent over the chair to grab her purse. Thankfully I’d worn my long coat that hid the growing lump in my pants. I had hugged her a little more firmly than I originally intended to. When she took my hand, her fingers felt sticky and combined with the smell of sex and her floral perfume, it took every ounce of restraint I had not to cup her breast and start sucking on her nipples. But it seemed like an unwise way to meet your first human employee, so I “elved up” and thought about snow balls.

“I’m Nick Claus,” I offered. “I’m so sorry that my assistants didn’t get your call.” I held her coat for her and she shrugged it on. “They’re pretty bad about doing anything after five o’clock.” I figured it would give her an out, and she took it. “Oh, that’s okay,” she laughed. “You’re here now!”

She followed me out to the sleigh, pausing for just a moment before scrambling in after me.

“Do you mind if we just go over to the office and grab a bite to eat? I don’t want to wear you out on your first day or bore you with the details of your job.” She laughed a little and tucked her chin down against the bitter wind. The North Pole isn’t a very big place and it was a quick journey back to the main building — which served as both my home and the main headquarters of Santa’s Workshop. A large gate opened and I glided the sleigh directly into the building, where the winter cold was left behind us and the lights came on, illuminating the Workshop. “Wow,” Ashley sighed, “This is pretty amazing.” Lit by chandeliers and glittering from every surface, the Workshop really did shine. Sometimes I get so used to seeing it that I forget how beautiful it is. The elves take incredible care to make sure that it’s clean every night, so it always looks brand new. Seeing it through her eyes made me grateful that this was my life.

Dinner was simple: leftovers that Elf Ella had made the night before. She’s a sweet woman who can really cook…it more ways than one. But it was just sex with us, and we both knew it. She had someone else, and I had my work. As if reading my thoughts, Ashley set down her fork and said, “So, where’s Mrs. Claus tonight?” She smiled naively, and I again suppressed the urge to throw her down and ravage her. “You’ve probably figured out where you are by now,” I started. “And who I am.”

“I think so,” she answered.

“I guess I’m grateful that you haven’t freaked out.”

She took her napkin from her lap and leaned back. “I’m interested.” She said. “This is pretty exciting. I feel like I know what’s supposed to happen here, but everything that I imagined about the North Pole seems pretty childish.”

I started “Well,” I offered, “how about a tour? But I meant it about letting you get your rest tonight. We have ten other new staff members joining us tomorrow and it’s going to be a long day.”

I led her onto the Workshop floor. She looked around in wonder as we passed long rows of toy making machines, and strolled down corridors of offices. When we reached the entrance to my private residence I stopped. “That’s about it,” I said, turning back and gesturing to the expanse of Workshop. “The whole place. Tomorrow everyone will be assigned to their offices and given their list of duties. We’ll get everyone signed up for trainings and you’ll meet all the elves.”

“You never answered my question,” she smiled. “About Mrs. Claus… All my life I’ve heard about her. I’m so curious to meet her – now that I find myself actually here.” I laughed and took her arm. “That, my dear, is publicity. There never has been a Mrs. Claus. But it sure makes me sound wholesome, doesn’t it?” I led her down a hallway that brought us back to the sleigh. “Let’s get you back to your place. You have a big day tomorrow!”


It was a whirlwind of a day. A plane ride in the morning, followed by meeting “The Boss.” We spent what felt like days touring the factory and offices and learning more about what we’d be doing at Santa’s Workshop in the coming months. I just couldn’t get over the fact that this was all real. I was really here at the North Pole. I was seriously going to be working for fucking SANTA. Unreal. He was really cool. I was surprised. When they told us who we were working for, I didn’t believe them. I mean, come ON. Santa? But when you’re walking the endless miles of Workshop, seeing the lights and the toys…well, it’s real all right. I thought he’d be fat. He definitely had eyes that twinkled and dimples, but there was no belly like a bowlful of jelly. Seriously, he made me think that I need to visit the gym more often. They actually have a gym there, so maybe I will do that. But he seemed like a nice guy and I’m looking forward to getting to know him.

Tonight is the get together with all the new employees. Mr. Claus thought it would be a good way for us to “bond.” I guess because the elves have all been working together for millennium, they felt that the new humans should probably take at least a night to get together. There are five men and five women who are new…and human. Everyone else is an elf. That was another shocker, actually. Elves aren’t all tiny. I mean, none of them are BIG, but I always thought elves were like three feet tall or something. In reality, they’re all about the same height as my ex-girlfriend. Probably five feet — give or take a couple of inches. Some of the women are knockouts. I think Santa has a thing for seeing the women’s assets because they have fur everywhere. They look so soft and sexy.

Back in my room though I just kept thinking about this one new girl, Ashley. She must have met Mr. Claus before, because they seemed to know each other pretty well. All of the new people are pretty attractive. It’s weird here though. It’s like you can’t tell by looking at people how old they are. They all look just good. That doesn’t make any sense though. They can’t ALL be hot, can they? That’s gotta be illegal. But that Ashley… Maybe it was her perfume, but she just smelled nice. Not nice, really. Naughty. Tonight I’m going to try to see if I can’t get to know her a little better.

I hopped in the shower to get ready for the party. The bathroom in my place is perfect. The shower has heads at either end of the shower stall, so while the hot water was running over my body I started lathering up and thinking about how this room was built for two people. My cock was getting hard thinking about Ashley under the other shower head – water pouring over her naked body. I lathered up my hard cock and closed my eyes, imagining me sudsing up her tits and rubbing my soapy cock up and down the crack of her ass. I squeezed harder and thrust my cock in and out of my fist. I knew her pussy would be tight. I could always tell. So tight and wet. I would pound my cock into her until she screamed out my name. Then I’d pull my cock out of her dripping pussy and press it into her tight little ass. Oh, she’d want it so bad she would thrust against my cock until it was buried in her asshole. I’d part the cheeks of her ass and watch my cock disappear again and again into her ass. Then I’d pull out and squirt cum all over her back, letting the water wash it away as I rubbed my cock on her ass and squeezed her ass cheeks.

I came so hard I had to brace myself against the wall of the shower. I seriously don’t think I’d ever cum that hard. It was almost surreal. I rest my head against the wall and softly kneaded the head of my cock. If I had a chance, I was seriously going to fuck her tonight.


It was a long first day at the new job. That makes it sound so normal. It wasn’t normal at all, though. I work for Santa. At the North Pole. That’s not normal. But it kind of feels normal today, in a surreal kind of way. And back in my room, I feel really good. The elves were kind of making jokes about how we humans would probably all really like our rooms. That we’d really like The Pole. I don’t know exactly what was so funny, but they were all really sweet about it, and I felt like they were kind of encouraging us more than laughing at us. But all the same, it felt like being on the outside of an inside joke. Not a mean joke, but still it makes you wish you were on the inside. Well, it was the first day. What can you expect?

But I’m just putting all that behind me, because tonight we’re going to party at the community room in the residence hall. All of our housing areas are connected — even the elves who live “on campus” are here in this building. But they aren’t coming to the party tonight. Santa — Mr. Claus — made it clear that everyone was invited, but the elves all basically said that they wanted us to get to know each other better. That’s okay, I guess. I’m kind of excited to get to know some of these people better. They’re all pretty hot, and I’m pretty much in dire need of a good fuck. Let’s hope that there’s not so much goodness up here at the North Pole that fucking for the sake of it isn’t allowed. I have a good feeling about tonight.


I’m not going to the gathering tonight. Well, I might just observe. I don’t want to get in the way of the humans getting better acquainted, but I have to admit that I’m curious about how they interact with their own kind. Today was full of meetings and trainings, but there wasn’t an opportunity to get to know what humans are really like. We don’t seem all that different, but who knows?

We elves have the ability to not be seen. I mean, we’re not invisible, but we can just be unnoticeable. Maybe that’s too subtle of a difference, but that’s elves for ya! So I’m just going to stay out of sight and see what happens. We’ve got food and music. That ought to keep ‘em talking for a little while. We’re all going to be together a lot, so I figure it’s important that we all are pretty tight. I just hope that everyone gets along.


The party room was amazing. Soft lighting, candles (what IS it with these elves and fire, anyway?) and hors d’oevres like I’d never seen. I don’t know if that is reindeer meat or what, but it’s really good on skewers.

Tamsyn opened her eyes, feeling the early morning sunlight flash across her eyelids. Ripples of pleasure coursed through her at the memory of what her and Riley had done the night before, and she was convinced that it was nothing more than a dream between them.

She sleepily turned onto her side, feeling a warm yet soft body nestled up against her, and a flash of panic seized her at her gut. Who did she end up with anyway?

To her relief, Riley lay asleep next to her, his arms wrapped around her waist and keeping her up against him. He seemed very relaxed, his chest slowly rising and falling from every breath he took.

She smiled fondly, tousling his dark bangs, which made him flicker his eyelids and stir before settling again.

In no way did she regret what they did — it felt incredible, and the longer she thought about it, the more she wanted to stay with him. She’d hoped that their lovemaking had eliminated any uncertainty between them.

A wave of nausea hit her stomach, but she chose to ignore it as Riley stirred more and hazily opened his eyes, revealing two bright blue pools.

“Hey.” He drowsily mumbled, relaxing more as he realised he’d been sleeping with her all night. He’d spent so many nights at work, and he’d resorted to almost camping out in the workshop under his desk.

“Hey,” she loved staring into his eyes, “late morning start for you, is it?”

“You could say that.” He watched her get up out of bed and rub her eyes when she sat up. If only they would’ve stayed in bed for longer. At least that way he would’ve been able to have more time to work out those difficult feelings.

“Well, I have to get ready for work now.”

“You want me to drive you there?” He offered. Even if their relationship was under some form of strain, he was able to tell when Tamsyn didn’t feel like using the bus to get into work. And anyway, it would’ve strengthened their connection that he felt was so close to waning.

She shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be ok.”

After they parted, Riley stayed in bed, not really knowing what he should be doing. He hated work, and in his honest opinion, he couldn’t care less if his job came to an end. Every single employee was going at some stage, so why unnecessarily drag the whole process out?

He checked his mobile, noticing a few messages had come through. His boss would be less than thrilled at knowing where he was. But hopefully, Ryan had covered for him in that respect.


Really and truly, a job was a job, and he still had to go back to it. Business as usual, was what they all called it.


Riley knew he had to go back to work. Ryan came across him sprawled out in his chair by his station. “Something tells me you’ve come down with something.” He was hoping if anything, he’d caught the love bug.

“Why do you say that?”

He smirked. “Because you don’t seem to wanna work.”

“That’s because I don’t wanna be here.”

“Come on, mate…what is it you’re not telling me?”

“I can’t tell you. Not here, anyway.”

“Then we’ll go out somewhere after where you can tell me…” Ryan placed a hand on his shoulder. “How does that sound?”

“Can I not tell you in private?”

He swallowed hard. He considered Riley a friend, maybe more…but he knew he shouldn’t take advantage of the young male by confessing to him how he felt towards him. His feelings were all over the place and he seemed ridden with guilt. “Break isn’t for another twenty minutes. We’ll go somewhere private where you can tell me, ok?”

He nodded dimly.



When the time came for them to have their break, Ryan led Riley into the male toilets, where he knew they would both be alone. “Now take your time.”

“I-I don’t think I love her anymore.”

“I don’t know what to say…” Ryan placed his hands on Riley’s shoulders, trying to be comforting but inwardly his body was screaming to let him know how he felt towards him. “Ri, I am so sorry things hadn’t worked out between you.”

“It isn’t as though neither of us tried.” He admitted. “But I’m trying and trying so hard, and it’s all coming to nothing.”

“Why do you think that is?”

The brunette swallowed hard, in an attempt to quell the sobs he knew were coming. “‘C-cause I’m in love with someone else…someone I know I shouldn’t.”

“Ri, ssh…” His friend wrapped his arms around him. “It’s ok. You don’t need to say it, it’s ok now.”

He wanted to say it anyway. “I do like you, but…”

“And I really, really like you.” He placed an index finger under his jaw, forcing him to gaze into his emerald eyes.

“Ryan,” he started, “no.” He wanted to deny he ever felt anything towards him, as he knew it was wrong for their sort, but inside he knew that all of his Christmases had come at once.

The blond male pressed his lips to his, and a warm buzz went to both of them. He took hold of his small hips, pulling them up against his own.

To him, the feeling seemed natural. He withdrew his lips from his, before pressing them down onto them again and then gently suckled on his lower lip.

Riley was aware of what was going on, but he didn’t dislike it.

“I’ve felt something for you for a very, very long time, Ri…” Ryan cupped his face with a hand, skimming a thumb over the slight smudge of oil at his cheek. “And I know full well that you like me.” The boldness in his voice reflected that of what they were both doing. It was all just…so naughty. It was against their way of life and against everything they stood for, and to defy that felt surprisingly strange — maybe even surprisingly, pleasurably strange.

He whimpered dimly, as their lips connected again. He mentally told himself to think back to Tamsyn, and think back to the previous night where they drove each other crazy.

“She’s not worth worrying about.” He interrupted his thoughts perceptively. He spoke tenderly, his hand sliding along his back with his other one making its way down his thigh. Even in the slightly loose-fitting trousers with the elastic just about clinging to his waist, he looked sexy. “You and I together makes perfect sense.”

Riley gasped softly as Ryan drew his touch back up his leg and lifted it so that it wrapped around his waist. He felt lucky no one else had come in and seen them in such a compromising position.

“And you know it does.”

Riley had started to get very nervous around Ryan, ever since their small moment together in the toilets during break.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he knew who it was.

“You and Ryan were back late off your break.” A stony voice warned him.

“I-I know…” He tried to get on with his work, knowing that it wasn’t working. “Didn’t realise the time. Sorry.”

“I-it was my fault, sir.” Ryan chipped in, understanding the situation. “There was something I wanted to talk to him about – without realising the time.”

Riley felt the hand loosen and then remove itself from him. A wave of relief crashed over him.

“You’re already on a warning for this.”

“I know…but I won’t let it happen again.” Ryan admitted.

Riley gazed over at the young male. “Y-you didn’t have to stick up for me.”

He shrugged. “You’re a mate. That is what mates do.”

He went back to what he was doing. “Thought I was more than that a few minutes ago.”

“You are.” He came up to him, well aware that standing around and engaging in idle chat was something that was frowned upon during work time. Something that was also frowned upon was talking about things outside of work during work time. “Look, how about you come back to mine later?”

“For what?” His eyes flitted to him steadily.

Ryan smiled softly. “For a chat.”


The two males sat in Ryan’s lounge. They were nestled up together, simply engaging in informal conversation.

It wasn’t long before the platinum blond wanted more than just that.

Ryan inched closer to Riley, placing a finger under his jaw to tilt his head up so their lips could meet. He closed his eyes as their mouths connected, moaning deeply at the feel of their tongues playfully sliding together.

Unusually pleasant tastes entered Riley’s mouth as his tongue shyly delved into Ryan; they were almost sweet and sugary and he found himself craving more of what he was offering him with.

“Good…that feels good…” Ryan gasped out, as the other male pushed him down onto the sofa and positioned himself over him. He felt something press into the spot in between his legs, and he arched his back at the sensation. “Mmmm…”

He was sure the brunette had experience with other males in a past life.

Riley squeezed him there over and over, feeling the ever-growing hardness cause his trousers to feel a little tight.

He moved a hand to the dominant male’s head, stroking him through his dark hair tenderly. “Ri…take them off…”

He secretly enjoyed Ryan’s request to be relieved, and he moved his hand to the single button on his trousers, dexterously unbuttoning it and then allowing them to slide down his legs.

Ryan gasped softly at Riley stroking him down one thigh. He moved his leg further apart, as he gazed up at him dimly. “L-let’s go to bed together…”

“And do what?”

“I think you know.”


There was never a better time to make love than in the evening.

Small, dainty tea lights adorned the highly set shelves with their flames flickering against the neutrally painted walls of the bedroom.

“Wow,” the brunette breathed, “I see it’s something you obviously planned for.”

“Well…” Ryan entered the room and slipped his work clothes off. “It’s something I’ve felt ready for, for quite some time…” He looked to see Riley standing by the room’s doorway, a shy look forming on his face.

Neither of them had ever attempted to do something so unorthodox, something that was considered unnatural to many.

Riley shivered slightly, although he did his own guesswork on that and assumed he was cold. After all, it was a slightly chilly night.

The blond went over to him, taking hold of his hands and towing him into the room. “I know you’re feeling very shy, Ri,” he placed his hands on the loopholes of his trousers, hence pulling them down, “but you don’t have to feel that way right now.”

He couldn’t help but admire his slender yet subtle curves as he stripped him.

The flames’ movement danced against the contours of his waist and hips, giving his fair flesh a flatteringly rich glow.

His beauty blew him away, and it was calling for him to do something about the growing excitement between his legs.

Their bodies mirrored each other perfectly when they pressed together in the soft light.

The blond male gently rested an index finger under the other’s jaw, tilting his head up so their eyes could meet. He could tell he was frightened – frightened of either ending up hurt or possibly frightened of not knowing what to expect.

“It’s ok,” he reassured him, soothingly, “I know this is all new to you.”

Riley’s bright, blue eyes looked to him unsurely. The other guided him over to the bed. “What if I go wrong somewhere?”

“You won’t ’cause you can’t.” He placed his hands on his strong shoulders and pressed his lips to his. They both closed their eyes and he slid his tongue along the other’s lower lip, demanding access. “Just do what you feel is natural.”

He freely obliged, and felt an immediate flush go to his cheeks. The entry was surprising and unexpected, but peculiarly nice.

The other glided his tongue against the other that greeted him within, and began to devour the sweet flavours that awaited him.

They carefully withdrew, as other things started to come to mind.

“Tonight…do you want it?”

He anxiously cast his gaze away, prompting a hand to place itself on his thigh and its thumb to caress the soft, smooth skin. “I-I guess so…”

“I won’t hurt you.” He reassured him. “And it’ll be the best thing you’d ever feel.” He laid the other male down on the soft bed, ensuring he felt comfortable.

“It might turn out to be even better than any other time with Tamsyn.”

He still seemed unsure. And he and Tamsyn had quite mind-blowing sex together. They knew each other’s hotspots and how to turn each other on.

Ryan hung over Riley’s slender legs, straddling them. He felt pleasure burn at his pelvic muscles at the thought of their bodies connecting, and it was something he could no longer hold off.

He wanted to make their first time together as pleasurable as he could.

The Infection Begins

Damien pushed Holly onto his bed and threw himself on top her and violently kissed her tender lips. She let out a small gasp at the sudden movement not expecting something as intimate as a kiss seeing as moments ago he was forcing his cock down her throat against her will but she gave into it and started to return the kiss. Damien was so pleased when he felt her return the kiss that he began to push his tongue into her mouth pushing hers down and dominating her mouth while grinding his hard cock against her body.

Holly kept returning his actions by raising her body to meet his and exploring his huge tongue with her meek tiny tongue but her mind was elsewhere. His touch and kisses sent electric spikes through her body that she had never experienced before and she had never once enjoyed cum the was she enjoyed his. Not only did she enjoy it the taste but she already felt like she was craving more and it had been less an hour since he force fed her the first load. What was happening? How could she enjoy a man she never found attractive and was at least 18 years older than her? She was happy with her boyfriend and suddenly he didn’t seem to matter. She felt horrible that she knew she would have to turn her back on her life with him when he did nothing wrong. She knew from the moment she tasted that intoxicating cum that she could never give up that taste.

She was snapped back into reality when she felt one of Damien’s thick fingers push his way into her tight pussy. He didn’t play with her clit first or rub her down like any other man would. He just jammed his finger all the way up her pussy and started feeling around.

“Holy shit Holly you are fucking drenched! I knew you were going to be a nasty little whore but I had no idea you would want my cock inside of you this badly!” he exclaimed as he pulled his soaked finger out of her pussy and shoved it into her mouth.

Without him telling her anything she sucked his finger clean like she did with his cock wishing it was covered in his delicious cum rather than her juices. While she was distracted with his finger he slowly started to push his huge cock into her tiny whole. Holly’s eyes flew open in shock.

“Please no” she tried to get out with a mouth full of finger.

“What did you say?!” he asked angrily as he removed his finger and this time gently slapped her.

“I mean uhm… please no sir! I mean uh…” Holly said with panic in her voice.

Damien’s eyes glared down at her and in a low pissed off voice said, “Did you forget that you are not allowed to deny me your body? Ever? It’s mine to do what I please with and you’re going to fucking take it you little bitch!”

He then forced his entire cock into her tight little pussy and she screamed out in pain which only made him harder and more excited.

“I was going to take this nice and slow and let your pussy form to my huge cock but you had to be a little smart mouth bitch so now you’re taking the whole thing no matter how much it hurts! I hope I make you fucking bleed bitch!” he exclaimed while trying to push his cock into her so deep that his pelvic bones were grinding into her ass.

“oh ah… Sir… no… that’s not…. oh ah ow! That’s not it! oooooh oooow please… I’m not on the pill.” she managed to get out.

He smiled and looked down at her and withdrew his cock and asked “So you want my cock inside you?”

“Yes Sir but…” she promptly replied as he shoved it back into her violently.

He glared at her again. “No ‘buts’ tell me you fucking want my cock inside of you no matter how painful it is!” he yelled at her while giving her another swift pump.

“Sir I want your cock inside of me no matter how painful it is but I don’t want to be pregnant Sir! You said years…” she said in a panic.

He smiled at her response even though it contained a “but.” Then he took up a more gentle pace of fucking her and stroked her hair softly.

“Don’t worry sweetheart… You don’t need to be on any sort of birth control with me. I told you I was not a normal man didn’t I?” he said as he totally changed his demeanor from angry to sweet.

Holly had no idea what he meant but she sighed in relief. For some reason she trusted him even though he basically kidnapped her and then raped her. Damien was not telling her the whole truth though. The truth was he wasn’t normal in a way that was almost not human. No one knew exactly what his family line was but the men had a certain power, if you will. They had the ability to produce two kinds of cum. The first kind of cum was normal semen which could impregnate any fertile woman just like every other man. The second kind of cum was not even semen at all it was more of a poison that infected women and turned them into little fuck toy servants that thought of the man as a god. Yes even some of the men in his family convinced their women that the men in their family were all in fact gods to be worshipped. As magical as this cum was for these men it also came with what some of the men called “the curse of the jizz” in his family. The condition of this “curse” was it chose the woman and once the woman was chosen the man would never ever be even remotely attracted to another woman. Also once the woman was chosen a burning drive to infect the chosen woman took over the man. Which made for a lot of rapes in his family line but there were all happily every after sort of rapes.

There was also one more condition. A man could fully infect a woman once and have a slave in her forever by filling all three of her holes with his infectious cum within six hours. If he did not she would only be his slave as long as she drank a load of his poisonous cum every six hours. This loop hole also allowed men to fuck other women freely with their sperm filled cum and breed all over the place and create a much larger future generation of their kind. The only downside to this is if the woman went the six hours without her cum guzzling there was nothing in place to insure she was loyal or that she wouldn’t need to be raped again and again when the addiction wore off. Damien smiled as he thought about how he was never going to let Holly go and then he let out a short evil smirk looking down at her.

“I let the poor little thing think she has a choice in all of this when her fate is already being sealed. She has no idea that she is already being turned into my real life little fuck doll. She’s going to be just like those little anime girls I’ve been lusting after and all mine!” he thought.

He continued to fuck her his pace growing faster and harder as moans of pleasure and cries of pain escaped his little victim. The abruptly he shoved his cock all the way inside her again and filled her pussy with his poison. His cock seemed to be pumping gallons into her and surprisingly it filled her with a warm comforting feeling.

When he was sure he had finished he pulled his cock out of her abused pussy and climbed up her body to straddle her shoulders. He put his cock to her lips once again.

“You know what to do bitch, clean up your mess.” he scolded her. “Oh and when you’re done keep sucking until I’m rock hard again. We will start working on your head skills tonight!” he smiled and laughed.

She nodded. “Yes Sir” and began to lick a mixture of his delicious cum, her juices, and her blood off his cock. She then took his cock and tried to stretch her mouth around it but struggled since he had her arms pinned down and his cock was so huge.

He starred down at her watching her struggle for a while slightly amused before grabbing his cock and aiming it in her mouth for her. She still struggled once it was in her mouth though. The thing took up her entire mouth and she did her best to suck it and swish her tongue around it. He rolled his eyes and pulled his half limp cock out of her mouth and got off her body.

“Get on your knees. I am going to let you do this just this once because I need to get hard ASAP!” he scolded as he pulled her onto the floor by the arm.

She nodded, “Yes Sir what do you want me to do?” she asked looking at him innocently.

“Use your fucking hands and your mouth and get me fucking hard as a rock in the next five minutes or I will fuck the shit out of your face again you dumb bitch!” he yelled.

She nodded again and took his cock into her tiny hands. She couldn’t even wrap one hand around it so she had to use both. She then held it up to her mouth and moved her head and hands in unison up and down his shaft. He looked down at her pleased because not only was she pleasing him now but he had fantasized about those tiny hands around his huge cock for months and he even had half the stack of photos left. “I am good” he thought to himself.

Once his cock was rock hard he grabbed her hair and yanked her off his cock and onto her feet. She winced as she was pulled up and looked at him with a slight fear in her eyes. He smiled at her then threw her face down on the bed.

“Get on your hands and knees like the bitch you are whore!” he yelled at her while pushing her down on the bed.

He smiled as she did what she was told and slapped her firmly on the ass. “Do not move!” he said.

She stayed put as he walked away and went into a cabinet. He promptly returned and she felt his rough giant hands spread her little butt cheeks. She then felt a cold liquid ooze all over her ass hole and she shrieked.

“What are you doing?!” she cried out.

He smirked as he inserted one of his fingers covered in lube into her tiny little ass hole. She shrieked again “Noooo! Ow!” she continued to cry out.

He began laughing. “Look I’m going to ignore your bad manners right now because let me guess… nothing has been in this little ass has it?” he said while slapping her ass firmly with his other hand.

He removed his finger from her ass and lined his hips up behind her then hesitated a moment. He got off the bed and got the ball gag and shoved it in her mouth.

“You’re probably going to cry and as much as your tears will turn me on you will probably need something to bite down on.” He smirked as returned to his place behind her.

He then lathered up his cock in lube and slowly pushed it into her tiny ass hole. It was probably the tiniest thing his dick had ever been in and he seriously felt like he was going to break her. He slowly began to fuck her virgin ass with such pride that it was his and she was his. Oh he owned this bitch inside and out.

She looked back at him with tears streaming down her face and that was enough to send him over the edge. He grabbed her hips and pushed his cock all the way into that little ass and released the load that would seal the deal on this little fuck toy. When he was done he pulled out and she fell on to the bed limply. He slapped her a few times but she was out cold. That meant it had worked and he smiled ear to ear as he took off her gag.

He walked to the bathroom and grabbed a moist towel and first cleaned off his dick. Then he went back in the room to clean up his new toy. He cleaned all of his cum and her juices off the outside of her pussy and ass and cleaned her face off as well. He lazily tossed the towel into the dirty laundry hamper and crawled into bed with his new most prized possession.

“Tomorrow the fun will begin.” He whispered in her ear.

(to be continued.)

He stared at the crowd, his nine inch cock hanging from between his legs for all the world to see. It was the last battle he had to endure, his shield and sword both lost in the last clash of weapons. He had stripped down to nothing as a show of arrogance, his two bare hands all he needed to take the prize, his life not truly on the line, only others’. He saw the princess, young and innocent, eyeing his cock from the top of royalty box with a confused longing. 5,000 men and women had gathered to see the fighter with no name come and fight in the battle royale.

His opponent strode in, covered from head to toe in plate holding a pike almost twice his height, ready to stab it throw his gut. The crowds cheered the warrior who had come to kill the naked barbarian. The contestants walked up to the center of the arena, the barbarian on his tip toes, ready to pounce, manhood dangling in defiance.

It only took a second, the knight charged his pike forward and the barbarian dodged, pouncing to the knight’s right, grabbing his helm and tearing it off his head and snapping his neck an instant later. The crowd booing the barbarian as he walked out of the court, ready for his rewards. Fifteen men he fought, for fifteen thousand gold coins.

He walked to his quarters where his servants waited for him with food and their bodies ready for his use. He reached for one the younger girls, a blonde with hefty breasts and a nice ass, with pale milky skin. He grabbed her by the hair and led her to his bed, pulling her white dress up to her waist and bending her over by the bed. A victory warranted a woman, and tonight’s victory warranted more than one, but he was just beginning for the night.

He wasted no time in plunging his cock deep into her butt hole dry. He heard her fearful whimpers but pressed his massive manhood deeper into her virgin asshole as far as it would allow. He pulled out and lifted her up by her thighs and spat into her anus, and let her fall back down onto the bed. The barbarian mounted the young girl and began to pound away. He enjoyed the sound of his balls smacking her cheeks as she tried to suppress her whimpers of pain.

The daughter of a farmer back in Aldronas, he had taken her mother repeatedly after breaking into their home, while her father and her watched meekly in the corner of the barn. He had made the farmer clean his fluids from his wife’s cunt afterwards while helped himself to their food. The barbarian didn’t care for the daughter at first, having been satisfied with the mother, but the dampness in her underclothes made appetizer the barbarian like never before, and he had decided to take her with him on his travels, fucking her virgin cunt and after that was sufficiently loosened, her asshole too.

He yearned for more valuable cunts than farmer’s daughters though. He wanted to rape queens and impregnate princesses, he wanted to have the townsfolk worship his cock as he walked through the streets as naked as the day he was born. He wanted to rule the kingdoms with his manhood, and he planned to do so.

The King of the Yiti Isles entered his room as he was ejaculating into the farm girl’s asshole. He unmounted her, his seed dripping across his taint and faced the fat man who ruled this shit stain of an island.

“You fight well, we didn’t think you’d last through the fifteen”, the king began.

“Fifteen thousand for fifteen warriors, where is it?” the barbarian replied stoically.

“I’m here regarding that, we can give you five now, a more than sufficient reward for a savage like you”

“Fifteen now, or you have a problem”

“It’s generally not wise to threaten a king,” the fat man replied, attempting to intimidate the savage, “And we simply cannot afford to pay you fifteen thousand, even five is a stretch”

“You agreed to the deal. I did too. If you don’t give me what I want then I’ll just take my payment”

“We have no payment for you to take beast, take the gold we offer and begone before I change my mind.”

The barbarian pondered his next course of action for a few moments. He could simply attack the man in the fancy dress but he’d have his monkeys chasing him for years afterwards. “Your daughter then, the one with the brown hair and big chest. I want her. And the five thousand.”

“The princess of the Yiti Isles is not a whore available to fuck beasts as payment for killing other beasts in the arena. Five thousand and begone now.” He had his servants walk in with heavy sacks. Possibly with his coin and possibly just silvers and coppers, rich men tended to cheat more than street rats.

“I don’t want a night. I want her for me. She travel with me. She please me. She will swallow my seed and carry my child. I want to make a royal savage, and drink her milk when she bears me a boy. When I am done you may have her back if it please me to be so kind.” The savage’s cock grew just thinking about the princesse’s figure, all nine inches returning to full erection just thinking about pounding her day in day out.

“Out of the question.” The king replied, noticing his fully erect manhood staring him in the eye.

“You see that girl on the bed there my good king? Her father tried to deny me what I wanted. Not what I deserved, but simply what I wanted. I wanted her juicy plump mother’s cunt, and the father had the audacity to pull me off her. Now her mother grows bigger everyday due to my seed, and the father has no choice but to care for it when it is born. In exchange I give him his daughter back when I grow tired of her. I’m not sure if I’ll even do that, Aldronis is quite far. Now you, little man, dare deny me not simply what I want, but what I have been promised. Do you think your guards are any stronger than any man you sent after me today in the field? I will take your wife and your daughter and make you watch. I will make their assholes gape wide as their cunts will after I’m done, you know I’m not lying, you can see my cock. So fair king, will you deny me your daughter or your gold? Or should I just take both”

“Tomorrow morning. Stay here, we’ll get you your damned extra ten thousand. But begone after that, away from these lands”

The barbarian smiled and the king left. The barbarian had no care for the gold now that he thought about the princess’s milky tits. He decided he could not even contain his lust until the morning, he decided to visit the palace tonight.


“To be continued if there is any interest, I’m aware it’s just a teaser and barely anything happened but I have plans for further stories”

(I originally wrote this story 5 years ago and had it rejected then, and again more recently, because of depictions of violence. Fair enough — their site, their rules. Since I’m stubborn, and I felt that the whole point of the story was that the “rape” that we so enjoy in our stroke fantasies is completely different from rape in the real world, which is an act of anger and violence expressed through sex, I refused to change it until now. But I’ve kept thinking about this story, mainly because I like the most of the characters and felt that they deserved to be introduced to a larger audience. I also value the feedback, which can’t be found elsewhere, that I get from this site. So, I’ve finally decided to re-submit the story with the depictions of the violent acts excised. I have not removed the later descriptions of the effects of those acts, as they are central to making the point of the story. If you feel that they were better left in, you can use your imagination, with which I expect Literotica readers are unusually well-equipped, to fill in the { —- } excisions.)


My name is Jasmine Pierce. I’m 36, an attorney, a serious poker player, and I write erotic stories when I have the time and the urge. I have time for these other things because I’m a very smart and successful attorney. I figured out early where the money was and I focused on the more exciting of these alternatives, defense work for major medical malpractice carriers. It’s really not all that amazing that people will pay very well to avoid the loss of millions of dollars. I’ve now got 3 other attorneys into my office to do a lot of the drudge work, which lets me get away a lot more when we’re not prepping for or actually in a trial.

I also have time for these things because I haven’t cluttered up my life with a husband and kids. Shit, I don’t even have a dog, and I can’t stand cats. If I’m horny, sometimes I’ll ask a guy out; and if I still want to fuck him after drinks and dinner, I’ll take him to a skin flick at the local XXX Bijou to warm him up. If he’s fun in bed and not serious afterward, I’ll add him to my list of guys to call when I feel like a quickie and I don’t have time to go through the whole drinks-to-bed routine. If he’s not fun or he does try to get serious, I drop him as gently as he’ll let me, or as hard as he makes me, whichever it takes to get the job done.

Of course, I’m built like a brick shithouse and have the face of a Raphael Madonna. Yeah, right, in my dreams. Actually, I have the remains of a nice body that has been subjected to over a dozen years of aging largely in front of desks and computers. And, dammit, cellulite happens. Six feet of height, the tensions of trial work, avoiding desserts except on vacation and the realization that I have to live and work in a looks-based society has kept me from going completely to hell. Still, I miss having the body that I occupied when I was a girl’s varsity basketball player in high school. The face isn’t bad, though. It may be a long way short of the Renaissance ideal, but it’s a damn sight nicer than the current Madonna’s, in my humble opinion.

I try to block out time every January to go to Tunica for at least a week. Their annual series of tournaments has been a great event ever since they got it going. There are tons of players every year, a lot of them very good; more of them average to awful. So, it’s a place where I can blow off a little steam and make a little money. That’s a little money; nothing like what I bill per hour. Not even close. But I have been playing on other people’s money for years now, so I see it as a kind of therapy where the therapists are paying me for my time. Not a bad deal, if you think about it.

This year between the early tournaments and the side games I was doing okay for my first 3 days, so on day 4 I played in a $2000 buy-in No-Limit Hold-em tournament. There were over 150 players, so first place paid over $75,000. I’ve never made it to first place, but I don’t need to. I’m more than happy if I make it to the final table, which is where you need to be to make decent money. Maybe that accounts for me never making it to first place; I don’t know. But the fact is that I’m an attorney who plays poker more for fun and stress relief than to be a pro, so I’m happy not having to obsess about beating everyone in sight in order to feel good.

About half way through this tournament I had the chip lead at my table; probably enough to put me in the top 10 of the remaining players at that point. In this situation, if the poker gods are being nice to me, they’ll let me make a button play that is a complete long-shot, but that is likely to bust another player (or two if the gods are really kind) when it works.

A lot of players like to play an Ace with a small card, 5 or lower, especially if it is suited. These are great for taking down hands like AK when the board pairs both the Ace and their baby kicker. They are even better when the board cards fill out the wheel, the A-5 straight, and better still when the board provides the cards for the nut flush. Because they are not particularly strong hands pre-flop, most people will try to see the flop with them as cheaply as possible.

This is ideal for me because the hand that I use for this trap is much weaker than anyone else’s, either a 65 of a 64, and when I want to come in on the button with it I want to do so with a raise, not a call. Not a big raise, because the odds are strong that I’ll have to dump the hand after the flop. But, still, a raise to make it look much stronger than it is.

Well, long story short, the gods were being nice to me at this point. Not only did they deliver a 64 to me when I was on the button, at the same time they gave a couple of players with chip stacks about half as big as mine cards good enough to call with but not to raise. On top of this, one of those guys was the most obnoxious player that I’d met at this year’s tournaments. He was a big, meaty, loud guy who thought not only that he was God’s gift to poker, but that women shouldn’t play. He had sucked out on me on the first day that we played, taking down my KK with a JT when the board held an AKQ.

As I got up to leave after that beat I gave him the customary “Nice hand.” After all, you want dumb-fucks like that to keep playing that way, so you can get the money back later.

His response was way over the line, though. Something along the lines of “Ya shoulda stayed in the kitchen, girlie, instead of coming out here with us real poker players.”

He’d been consistently rude and antagonistic whenever he’d seen me since then, which made me especially happy that the fates delivered me not only my favorite trap scenario, but also this rude bastard as a potential victim.

Anyway, the player under the gun called the $600 big blind, and the big rude guy called. Everyone else up to me folded and I made it $1500, which drove out the small blind and got a call from the big blind. The fellow who had limped in first folded, and the dickhead called, and added “I guess you just won’t learn, girlie”.

The flop came 953, rainbow, which gave me an open-ended straight draw. Both of the players in front of me checked, so I made it $3000 to go, trying to look like an overpair. That got rid of the big blind, leaving only my day-one suck out artist. He thought a minute then called.

The turn card was a deuce, again unsuited, which made my straight and eliminated any possibility of a flush draw. Mr. Rude Bastard spent some time appearing to think about what to do, then checked again. At this point I had the nuts and I didn’t put him on a set. I figuring he’d have check-raised me if he’d hit a set on the flop, and he’d have folded a pair of deuces when 3 overcards came on the flop and I acted like I could beat a pair of nines.

Since I felt I was holding the nuts and didn’t face a flush or a strong full-house draw, I didn’t want to drive him off. I just made another $3000 bet, which should have been enough to take the pot down if he had nothing, and enough to keep him in if he was on a long-odds draw. Grinning from ear to ear, he almost beat me into the pot with the rest of his stack, which was a pretty clear signal to me that he’d been holding the best hand I could have hoped for, an Ace four. I immediately called and the dealer had us turn over our cards. Just as I’d hoped, he was holding the Ace four, which made him a straight to the 5.

“Son of a bitch,” Mr. Rude Bastard said when he saw that he was drawing dead to a 6, for a tie. And when the river card turned out to be a Jack, he lost it.

“You fucking cunt,” he almost shouted. “What sort of idiot raises on a 64?”

“Sir, watch your language unless you want to be eighty-sixed” the dealer told him.

“Fuck you sonny,” he said, “and fuck you too, girlie.”

“Floor!” the dealer called.

“Forget it sonny. I’m outta here,” said Mr. Rude Bastard as he turned and stomped off.

The floor person had not appeared in response to my dealer’s first call, so while pushing me the pot he asked if I wanted him to call again.

“No, thanks. Just let it go,” I said, not wanting to hold up the game. I’d had my revenge, and it was sweet. But now there was a tournament to try to win and, besides, the jerk was gone.

Several of the other players at the table complimented me on my play of that hand, and a couple even thanked me for getting rid of the jerk. We continued to play until our table was broken up to fill holes at other tables as more players busted out.

As it happened, I did make the final table that day. But, as usual, I didn’t make it to the top, being taken out when my pre-flop pair of Jacks lost to an 87 of hearts and the board produced a heart flush. Hey, that’s poker. I was happy with my 6th place money of over eight grand. I’d played well, I’d gotten lucky at the right times, especially against Mr. Rude Bastard, and I’d made some money. Life was good.

By this time it was early evening. I was planning to re-invest my eight grand toward a seat in the $10,000-entry main event, the one where the winner would become an instant millionaire, the next day. I decided to go back to my room, order some room service and write a little erotica to help me clear my head.

I had told Jeremy, one of my occasional playmates, about my erotic story writing. (I’d told him that I could write a better script than the one in the skin flick we’d just seen, and he told me to prove it, which I did by showing him some of my stories.) He had recently asked me to write a rape-fantasy story for him.

I’m not really into rape-fantasy stories. Nearly all of them are completely fantastic, totally missing the point about rape being an acting out of anger, hostility, the need to hurt and dominate that just happens to involve sex. As a woman, I always found them degrading when they had the victim turning on to the act.

But Jeremy was as close as I was going to find to the one in the older-guy’s pickup line where he claims a 9-inch tongue and the ability to breathe through his ears. And, unlike the guy in that line, there was absolutely nothing wrong with his dick, either. Beyond that, he’d never asked me for anything before, he hadn’t gotten pissed off when I made it clear that I was the one who was to do the calling, and he was always happy to come over when I called him for a quickie.

“What the hell,” I thought, “don’t be such a hard-ass. You can do this for him.” I’d been thinking about his story off and on since he put in his request, which would make it easier to write than one about something else. So after a long hot shower I slipped my naked body into the big fluffy terrycloth robe that the hotel provided, got some wine out of the mini-fridge, and settled down to write:

* * *

Story for Jeremy

Sally Jordan gave herself an appreciative look in the full-length mirror in her bathroom. At 24 she had a wonderful body: 115 pounds spread over a 5’6″ frame with a near-perfect 36- (thanks in no small part to her nice D-cup breasts) 24-36 set of curves. She had one of those perfect heart-shaped faces with large eyes and the pouty lips that had become all the rage, nicely framed by shoulder-length light blonde hair.

It was Thursday night and she was thinking about trawling a couple of her favorite singles’ bars, getting a head start on lining up some weekend entertainment. She’d broken up with her previous boyfriend of 6 months a week ago, and she was getting more than a little horny. In fact, just thinking about tonight’s prospects was making her nipples perk up and causing a nice warm feeling below her neatly trimmed bush.

“I think I’ll look for an older guy tonight. Jeremy…

["Hi Jeremy," I thought. "Since it's your story you might as well have a cameo role."]

“… was sweet and he could fuck like a pile driver. But most of the young guys I’ve fucked are more into fucking me than pleasing me,” she thought. “Someone more appreciative and anxious to spoil me rotten might be a nice change.”

She went into the closet and pulled out an old Catholic school skirt that she had gotten from one of her roommates at college and had since shortened. In her experience, this schoolgirl look was a real come-on for middle aged guys. After putting on a low-cut push-up bra and a tight white blouse (top 3 buttons undone to show plenty of cleavage, of course), she slipped on a red thong and the skirt. Next she put on her makeup; very little tonight in keeping with the wholesome schoolgirl look. Once more she appraised herself in the full-length mirror and liked what she saw.

“God, but I look like a pedophile’s wet dream,” she said to herself as she added an old lightweight letter jacket to complete the ensemble.

She collected her purse from the table by the front door, checking to make sure that she had her driver’s license (“I’m sure to get carded in this get-up,” she thought), car keys and condoms. Then, as an afterthought before heading out, she took off the thong and put it in a pocket of her jacket. Jeremy had turned her on to going outside without any underwear right after they had started going together. It was pretty sexy for her as long as it wasn’t too cold outside.

When Sally got to the Bearded Clam, her favorite singles’ meat market, she found Nick on duty at the door, so she didn’t have any trouble with her underage look. Nick was a former boyfriend. Big, strong as an ox, but a cuddly Teddy Bear in bed. Most notably Nick had introduced her to the joys of anal sex, using all the patience and tenderness that he could until eventually she could take his big 9-incher in one firm push without any pain. In fact, thanks to Nick, Sally had now come to crave having cock up her ass as much as she’d loved straight fucking and sucking when she’d met him.

“Well,” Sally thought as she pressed into the crowd at the bar, “if I haven’t found anything better by 2am, I can always come back and collect Nick.”

In spite of all her preparations and natural beauty, to say that Sally made a big splash at the Bearded Clam would have been a gross overstatement. In fact, it appeared that a lot of young women had decided to shop early for the weekend. There was so much young, beautiful girl flesh on display, and so few middle-aged guys, that she was thinking she’d made a mistake going there at all.

“I’m already here,” she thought, “so I might as well have a drink and give it a chance before moving on.”

On her way to the bar she did attract the attention of a couple of guys, but they were too close to her age; not what she had come here for. She brushed them off politely and found an empty stool, determined to hold out for her middle-aged sugar-daddy-to-be.

About halfway through her drink Sally felt a hand grab her left ass cheek. She turned around to find a big, meaty guy standing way too close to her.

["Welcome to my story, Mr. Rude Bastard," I said to myself as I stopped to pour some more wine. "You may be a total loss as a human being and a poker player, but you'll make a great sick villain by the time I'm done with you."]

“Hi girlie,” he said in a loud voice. “Does your mommy know you’re hanging out with the big boys now.”

His condescending attitude, on top of his groping hand, really pissed Sally off, so she didn’t cut him any slack. “Look, asshole, whoever I’m hanging out with it isn’t you, so you can get your hand off my ass right now.”

“Aw, sorry ’bout that, girlie,” he said, trying but failing to look contrite. “I just figured that since you were dressed up in that fuck-me costume you might appreciate the attentions of a real man. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. And I might even appreciate the attentions or a real man. But I guess that leaves you out. So, go find someone else to hustle and leave me alone or I’ll ask Nick to heave your sorry ass into the parking lot.”

“Okay, girlie, if that’s the way you want to be, I’m outta here. Parrrdon meeee for having tried to bring some sizzle into your pathetic little life.”

The encounter with the loudmouthed pig put the finishing touches on Sally’s patience with the Bearded Clam. She decided to head off to the Peg ‘n Hole, where the crowd was usually a little smaller but also a little older on average. “Might as well try quality vs. quantity,” she thought.

When she got there the doorman/bouncer was someone she didn’t know, so she not only had to go through the carding routine, but she had to call on Douglas, the bartender, to vouch for her as a regular who wasn’t trying to sneak in on a fake ID. Once she got through that hassle and ditched her jacket in the coatroom, she headed for the bar and found an empty stool. This time she made a point of swishing her skirt up as she settled her bare ass down on the barstool, just in case anyone was paying attention.

As luck would have it, there weren’t a lot of single guys at the bar yet. Most of the Pegs already had their own Holes with them, and Sally didn’t feel like getting into a catfight to steal one of them away.

“Wonder where all the guys are,” she thought as she sipped her drink. “Are there some fucking playoffs on TV tonight?”

Sally was just starting on her third drink when the door opened and in walked the loud, rude guy from the Bearded Clam. She was sure that he spotted her when he came in, but he seemed to have gotten the message before, since he went down to the other end of the bar to get his drink. Sally returned her attention to her own drink, and so was surprised when she felt a hip press up against her, and this same obnoxious guy plopped down two drinks on the bar next to her.

“Hi again girlie. I asked the bartender what you were drinking and I brought you one. You were awful nasty to me at that other place, but I decided to be a nice guy and give you a second chance.”

“Jesus Christ,” said Sally, trying to move away from his pressing hip. “You can’t be real. If you think I gave you a hard time at the other place, wait until I get you thrown out of this one. Now get the fuck away from me or I’ll get that bouncer over there to do it to you.”

“Shit girlie, what game you think you’re playing? You come out dressed like a little horny highschool whore. You cruise from bar to bar flashing your tits all over the place in that tight blouse, wearing a little schoolgirl dress that barely covers your ass. And then when a real man has the balls to come up and ask for some of what you’re offering you act like a little cock tease and tell him to get lost. That sort of thing can get you hurt, you know?”

“Like I said before, asshole, whether I’m cruising for a real man or not doesn’t matter in your case, because if you’re a real man the Pope is a Lutheran. Now I hate to hurt your feelings like that, but you’re the one who keeps pushing, and I’m going to push back until I can get you to go away.”

“Aw, girlie, all that talk about pushing and pushing back is getting me so horny. You sure you wouldn’t like to get a little taste of what I have to offer before you make a bad mistake like that? I’ll bet your mouth would be happier sucking on my love stick than it is talking all this hostile shit you been talking at me.”

“Douglas,” Sally called to the barman, “would you come here please.”

“Alright, girlie,” the boor said. “I sure am getting tired of you chasing me off, what with me trying to be so nice to you.” And, as Douglas approached he said, “Forget it sonny. I’m outta here,” and headed for the door.

“Thanks Doug,” Sally said. “That guy was a real pain in the ass. Do I really look like I can be had for the price of a drink and a Neanderthal come-on.”

“Sally, love, only because you asked,” Douglas said soothingly, “no, I don’t think so. But from the way you’re dressed I’d guess that you could be had tonight for the price of a drink without the Neanderthal come-on. Shit, you’re so cute in that schoolgirl outfit that if I weren’t happily gay I’d want to get a piece of you myself.”

“You’re sweet, Doug,” Sally said as she scooted far back on her barstool and lifted the front of her skirt to show him her pantyless snatch. “Are you sure that I can’t entice you over to the dark side.”

“Jesus, Sally,” Douglas said with a laugh. “Cover that up before you start a riot in here. I appreciate the offer, but I really am happy the way I am. And besides, Myron would kill me if he found out I was messing around on him, especially with a girl.”

“Ah well, it was worth a try. How about you get rid of that pig’s so-called free drink and bring me another?”

And so it went through two more drinks, until Sally was beginning to feel no pain except that of frustration at having struck out again. It was still too early to think of waiting for Nick, and the thought of having to spend the night with her vibrator rankled.

As she rose to leave the bar Douglas came over and said, “Sally, you’re really not in good shape to drive at the moment. Either I’m going to have to tie you up until you get sober, or I’m going to have to call a cab for you.”

“Oh Doug, you say the nicesht things to a girl. I’ll let you tie me up if you promise to fuck me a little. I promish not to tell Myron.”

“Sorry, Sally,” Douglas said. “If I ever decide to go bi- I promise that you’ll be the first girl I’ll ask for a free fuck. But right now it just isn’t going to work for us.”

“I’ll be waiting by my phone, shweetie, she slurred. ” But I guess that right now you’d better call me a cab. I’ll go outside to wait for it, and maybe clear my head a little.”

“You’re sure you’re not going to drive off on me, are you?”

“Hadn’t even crossed my mind Doug. I may be sex-crazed, but I’m not crazy. Here,” she said as she reached into her purse, “you can even hold my car keys for me until the cab getsh here if it’ll make you feel any better.”

“Thanks Sally, but I’m going to trust you on this one. Go ahead and keep the keys. I should have a cab here within 5 minutes, and I doubt you’ll get really stupid on me. Just come back in if you feel yourself weakening.”

[At this point I needed to take a break, because I was about to cross the line into writing stuff that I absolutely didn't believe. And, besides, I still needed to get some supper into me. So, I called room service and ordered a ham and cheese omelet and a slice of pecan pie with whipped cream. Hey, breakfast food is great any time of day, and nothing in the rules says I can't have dessert with breakfast when I'm on vacation. Then I took another sip of wine and got back to work.]

Outside the Peg ‘n Hole Sally decided to move away from the door, where the brighter lights were hurting her eyes. Then she remembered that she had left her jacket inside. As she turned to go back in for it, she felt a cloth go over her mouth and an arm folding around her waist, lifting her off the ground. As she opened her mouth to scream the hand holding the cloth forced it into her mouth and slipped some sort of elastic band that was attached to it over the back of her head. Then that arm, freed up from silencing her, joined the other around her waist.

Sally tried to struggle, but it was no use. Whoever had grabbed her was much bigger and stronger than she was. “Probably not drunk as I am, either,” she thought ruefully.

As he carried her around the corner of the building and into the parking lot the man holding her whispered into her ear, “Why, you are a sight to behold. I haven’t had me a little schoolgirl in months. Doing you is going to be fun.”

It was the voice of a complete stranger, and Sally shivered at the thought that this man really was planning to rape her. Out of instinct and pride she tried to struggle out of his grasp. At the same time, she couldn’t help but feel a tingle in her nipples and cunt.

["Okay Jeremy, are you starting to feel a little twitch in the old fuck stick," I thought at this point.]

Sally had started the evening horny and optimistic, and had left the Peg ‘n Hole horny and frustrated; plus just a little bit tipsy. Well, maybe more than a little bit tipsy to be honest. She had had rape fantasies for years, and had even gotten some of her boyfriends to act them out with her.

Jason had “broken in” through her bedroom window one night and actually put a knife next to her throat as he made her undress him and suck his cock before discarding the knife and fucking her brains out. That had been incredibly hot for both of them.

Billy had gotten her tied up on the bed one night and instead of fucking her cunt had told her that he was going to rape her ass. Fortunately, though Billy didn’t know it, his time with Sally was well after Nick’s. So, while Sally pleaded and protested and made it hard for him to get his dick into her rear hole, this “anal rape” wasn’t the least bit painful for her, and she enjoyed the whole scene immensely.

Brian had grabbed her one night in the park and fucked her while she was bent over a picnic table, unable to see who it was until he was finished. She had often thought about how the fear and her lust had intertwined during that encounter.

So, while Sally was wiggling in her captor’s arms and making protesting noises into her gag, she was turning on to the idea of actually being forced into submitting to sex, and with this stranger rather than with one of her boyfriends who was only play acting.

Toward the back of the parking lot was a white van, and the stranger carried Sally to it. He slid the door open and threw her in roughly, following quickly, slamming the door behind him and locking it. Then he turned on an overhead light.

Sally found herself sprawled out on the floor of the van. The whole back area was carpeted, as were the walls to about half their height. There was a solid partition between the back of the van and the passenger compartment. The windows in the back doors had been painted over, so that the overhead light that the stranger had turned on was the only source of illumination.

As Sally was looking around she noticed that when she had been thrown onto the floor of the truck her short skirt had ridden up, revealing that she was wearing no panties. The stranger also noticed this and said, “Well, little lady, it looks like you came out ready for action tonight. I guess it’s a good thing I found you.”

Sally reached for the gag and the stranger grabbed her wrists. “No, you don’t take that off until we get some ground rules down. We both know why we’re here. If you cooperate, you won’t be hurt and you might even have a good time. If you scream after I take that gag off, or fight me, I’m gonna hurt you. And if you manage to hurt me I’m gonna hurt you real bad, maybe even mess up that sweet little face of yours. Now, if you want to do it the easy way you just nod your head up and down and I’ll take that gag off.”

Sally was really getting turned on by the masterful tone that this man was using on her. Usually she was able to jerk her boyfriends around however she wanted, even Nick in spite of all his size and capacity for violence when he was in bouncer mode. Having this powerful man order her around was curiously appealing. She nodded, trying to make it appear not too enthusiastic, and the stranger removed her gag. The first words out of her mouth were, “What are you going to do to me?”

“Well, just about anything I want. And you can call me sir, by the way. I won’t punish you for leaving that off this time, but next time it’ll cost you. Got that?”

Yes,” Sally said, and quickly added “Sir,” when the man raised his arm.

“Good. You must be a bright little schoolgirl to learn so fast.”

“I’m not really a school girl, sir,” Sally said meekly. “This is just an outfit I wear sometimes.”

“Oh, well, gosh, I really had my heart set on doing a school girl tonight. I guess in that case you’d better go.”

Sally was completely confused by this, until the man broke out laughing and said, “Just kidding. Now, how about you see how fast you can get undressed for me.”

Sally felt herself blushing, not from having to undress in front of this stranger, but because he had made fun of her. Still, her fingers moved to comply with his command. The blouse came off quickly, since it was mostly unbuttoned already. Then she unhooked her bra, feeling both relief and pride as her magnificent breasts were freed from its pressure. Finally, she unbuttoned the skirt and slipped it over her hips.

“Nice equipment,” the man said. “Too bad you can’t stand up in here and show it off properly. Now turn around on your knees and show me your ass.”

["Have you got your cock out yet, Jeremy? Are you jerking off yet, you pervert?]

Sally turned around and waited, kneeling with her ass toward the man. Nothing happened for a few of seconds except the clink of a belt buckle and the sound of the belt being pulled through pants loops. She was about to look back over her shoulder to see what was happening when there was a swish followed by a loud crack and a burst of pain as the belt cut across her ass.

“Ow,” she cried, and again as a second lash came in, then a third. Sally had never been seriously spanked, even as a child, so she wasn’t prepared for this. No question, it did hurt, but she also felt herself start to tingle in all the right places, caused by the burning in her ass cheeks and the thought that this man had just had his way with her in a fashion entirely new to her. As she knelt waiting for the next stroke of the belt she found herself looking forward to the stimulation that she was getting from the pain. But the belt did not come again. Instead, she felt the man’s fingers reaching roughly between her legs and into her cunt.

“Well, well,” the man said as he worked two fingers in and out, then three. “Looks like you like spanking. You get any wetter and it’ll start running down your legs. But this isn’t all about you, missy, so just you turn around and start getting my clothes off.”

“Yes, sir” Sally said, putting as much little-girl meekness into her voice as she could muster. The fact was that the spanking had turned her on more than she would ever have expected. Whatever uneasiness she might have felt over being abducted and told that she was going to be raped had completely evaporated in the heat spreading up from her crimson ass cheeks and her sopping cunt.

She quickly turned and started on the button of the man’s jeans, but he stopped her.

“You are an eager little slut, aren’t you? We’re not in a hurry, so you can start with my shirt.”

She quickly had this unbuttoned and was pulling it off of him when she noticed a long scar on his right forearm and a pucker in the flesh under his left shoulder.”

He noticed her looking at these and said, “Yeah, I guess I been in a few fights. That shoulder, there, some kid {—-} when I was doing his mom in their house one night. Wasn’t even hardly raping her either by then, she was so hot for what I was giving her. Taught me not to do it in people’s houses any more, though. No siree, gotta get ‘em where they can’t get to no nasty knives or guns. Now, why don’t you just suck on my nipples a little bit.”

Sally moved her mouth onto his left nipple and took it between her lips. She started to suck and swirl her tongue around it as she felt his fingers grasp both of her nipples and begin to roll them around. She moaned and began to suck harder. She started to take little bites with her teeth, which caused the man to give a grunt. Then pain shot through Sally’s tits as his fingers clamped down hard on her distended nipples.

She almost screamed as she pulled her mouth away from the man’s chest.

“That might be nice some other time, but you weren’t following orders there. I didn’t tell you you could bite me. You gotta follow orders, honey, or I’m gonna have to hurt you like I said. You got that now?”

“Yes, sir,” she gasped as the pain in her tits receded. She started to move back toward his chest but again the man stopped her.

“Okay, time to get my pants off, he said, as he moved from a kneeling position to lying flat on his back.”

Sally worked the button and zipper of the man’s jeans, and started to pull them and his undershorts down toward his heels. The man helped her by lifting his ass. As the clothes cleared his loins Sally gasped at the fully erect cock that sprang up in front of her. It was the biggest she’d ever seen, at least 9 inches long, and it looked about as big around as her wrist. She’d never had anything that big inside her before, and a twinge of fear mingled with the surge of lust that this vision produced in her. She quickly got the jeans and shorts the rest of the way off his legs and was about to grab the cock when she stopped, remembering what had happened when she had nibbled on his nipple.

“Fast learner, like I said before,” the man said. “You wanting something there, little girl?

“Can I touch it sir?

“Yeah, sure, and you can even suck on it and nibble on it a little. But if you bite me, I guarantee that your friends won’t recognize you tomorrow.”

Sally grabbed the monster cock in both hands. She licked off the drop of pre-cum that had already formed on it and swirled her tongue around its massive head. Then she opened her mouth wide and sucked her way down his shaft, listening to his moans as she enveloped him. She continued to move her head up and down, swirling her tongue as much as she could, nipping at the head of his prick occasionally. His hips began to buck and his hands came down in the back of her head, forcing it farther down on his shaft until she started to gag. She tried to pull back and he let her come up an inch or two, then he was pressing her down again, the head of his massive cock pressing against the back of her throat.

“Breathe through your nose,” she thought as he continued to push. She made a swallowing motion and suddenly his cock was sliding into her throat, deeper and deeper until her nose was buried in his pubic hairs. He held her there for a moment, then pulled her up by her hair an inch or two and slammed her back down on his shaft.

["That ought to have him spurting all over the place," I said to myself as I recalled how much Jeremy had tried to get me to deep throat him, so far without success.]

Sally could feel the man’s balls beginning to swell, and was torn between wanting him to blow his load into her mouth and the aching need she felt to have him drive his steely rod deep into her cunt. At that point the man decided the issue for her, pulling her off him as he sat up. He picked her up and pushed her roughly onto her back. He grabbed her legs, straightening her out as he spread them far apart and knelt between them.

“Alright slut, beg me to fuck you,” he ordered.

“Fuck me sir.”

“I said beg dammit. Say it like you want it.”

“Oh sir,” she whined,” don’t make me wait any longer. Please fuck me. Ram your big spike deep down my pussy. Please sir, split me open with that huge prick.”

With that the man lined his prick up with her juicy cunt and rammed all the way into her with a thrust so hard and fast that it pushed Sally a couple of inches across the floor of the van.

Sally screamed, both with the pain she was experiencing at the sudden feeling of being almost split in two, and with the release brought on by the orgasm that came with being speared by the massive cock. She continued to moan and sob as the man kept pounding into her mercilessly, driving her from orgasm to orgasm. Her legs wrapped around his hips as she tried to pull him even deeper into her, at the same time raising her hips to meet his thrusts. None of her boyfriends had ever fucked her this hard, and the feeling of being pounded into submission by this huge, raging cock was taking her higher than she had ever been before.

He was fucking her with such force that her pussy was beginning to get sore, but she was loving every part or it, even the pain that was building with he pleasure. She felt that she could go no higher, but when one of his rough fingers drove into her asshole she cried out and came again, even harder than before.

The man began to thrust even more wildly and Sally could feel his prick begin to swell in her stretched and battered cunt. “Fuck me, fuck me hard,” she shouted. “Fill me with your cum. Oh, Jesus, fuck me ’til I pass out.” Neither of them seemed to notice that she had left off the “Sir.”

With this encouragement ringing in his ears, the stranger gave a shout and went rigid as he pumped his cum into her. Sally could feel what seemed like buckets of cum spurting into her, and it brought her to one final, shrieking climax. Then the man collapsed heavily on top of her.

As Sally lay there under him, listening to his harsh breathing, she heard the van door open.

“Why, hello girlie,” she heard the obnoxious man from the bar say as he climbed into the van. “Good work Jim. It looks like you got our little cockteaser all warmed up. I hoped you saved her ass for me.”

* * *

Just as I finished this paragraph there was a knock at my door accompanied by a muffled “Room service.”

“Pretty good timing,” I thought.. “My mind can use a rest while I think out the rest of this scenario.” I looked out the peephole and saw the food trolley outside the door. As I opened the door it was pushed in by someone bending over it, who immediately shoved the cart at me then closed and locked the door behind him.

“Hi girlie,” said Mr. Rude Bastard as he turned to face me. “I’ve been watching your room all evening waiting for you to come out. I figured that if you weren’t going out to eat you’d probably have ordered room service, so I borrowed this cart from down the hall.”

“You have got to be out of your fucking mind, breaking in here like this” I shouted. “Get out of here right now before I call the cops.”

“Aw, girlie, I didn’t break in,” he said as he pushed the cart out from between us. “Anyone can see that you let me in. ‘Stuck up bitch finally decided to get herself a real man’ is what they’ll be thinkin.”

I could smell the liquor on his breath now and I knew that there was no point in trying to talk to this creep. I turned to pick up the phone on the beside table, but he made a lunge across the bed and beat me to it. As I grabbed for the phone my hand closed on his wrist.

“Give me that phone and get away from me now, you shithead,” I snarled. “You’re already in enough trouble.”

“Girlie, you’ve got one mean mouth on you. You pull some stupid prank and get lucky at the poker table and you think you can lord it over me, don’t you? Well, I’ve seen bitches like you before, and I know how to deal with ‘em. You don’t know what trouble looks like,” he said as he picked up the hand set, “but I’m getting ready to show you.” Then he { —– }

Once he was in he pumped in and out for awhile, taunting me with shit like “See how wet you’re gotten. I told you you’d appreciate having a real man in you,” and “This’ll give you something to remember while you’re playing with yourself on those long lonely nights.”

July 2018
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