Oct 072015

monstermash“Greetings mortals! It is me, Suckubeth, the terror from another dimension who always keeps your attention! I have returned for another month of presenting sexy stories to you. Why? Because I care. And also reading the stories will damn your soul to my eternal control blah-blah-blah. Trust me, the fine details aren’t worth paying attention to.

With me as always is my Flaming-Skull-on-a-Stick companion, Burny.”

“Disconnect your internet now, and keep it off all month! It is your only chance to keep your soul!”

“Silly Burny, you act like souls are worth keeping. You are not truly living until you owe your soul to something dark and curvy.”

“Every night I pray that my soul will be released so I may slip into eternal oblivion.”

“Futile prayers do make the best lullabies. For those of you who wish to stay awake, I offer this invigorating story about the Halloween Slasher.”

“No! You can’t tell them that story! They may never go trick-or-treating again! At least not with underwear!”

“I shall and I will. Read on, mortals.”


It happened again. On the first of October, an ache grew in my balls. On the 8th, my hair grew darker and longer until it reached my shoulders. On the 14th, my fingernails were sharp enough to cut cardboard. On the 23rd, I no longer could come no matter how much I masturbated. On the 28th, I could see just fine in the pitch dark.

As the sun fell on 31st of October, my nails grew. It hurt like it did every year. It hurt as they grew one inch, two inches and then three.

I tried to scream but my lips had sealed over like they always do.

My fingernails stopped hurting at sundown. My cock throbbed with a terrible need. It was time.

I stepped into my back yard completely naked. The darkness embraced me and I moaned through sealed lips. All of my dread and fear slipped away.

The moon hung low as I jumped the fence and stalked through yards. No one saw me. No one ever sees me. Not until it is too late.

I found the children first. It always amazed me. Every year there were reports of the Halloween Slasher and ever year parents still took their kids trick or treating. It truly was a time for monsters.

They were safe from me. I lurked in the darkness as the children passed me by. Sometimes the throbbing in my cock hurt and I was tempted by their parents but no. I didn’t know why I was what I was but I had my own rules. No children would ever see me.

Adults were not so lucky.

A door opened and an adult woman came out. She walked to her car wearing a lingerie store’s version of a cop uniform. The shirt exposed pale white thighs. The blouse was open to reveal cleavage as deep as my hunger. The heels were too high to chase criminals or run from one. Long blonde hair spilled onto her shoulders and was caressed by the wind.

She never made it to the car. I cut through her yard on bare feet. I came up behind her as quiet as a stab. I smelled her perfume before she knew what was happening.

My claws flashed in moonlight.

SLASH! The back of her shirt opened to reveal a smooth back and a fairy tattoo on her shoulder.

She spun around. Her mouth opened in horror. Blue eyes widened in disbelief.

SLASH! My claws tore through the left side of her blouse. A plump breast fell out, untouched by sharp nails.

SLASH! The front of her skirt split open. Black lace panties peeked out.

SLASH! The other side of her blouse fell to the ground in sliced tatters. She brought her arms up to cover her bared breasts.

SLASH! A single rip opened her lace panties to expose the wet sex beneath.

The police woman let out a scream. She was not the one.

I ran past her. Her screams echoed into the night. The darkness took me back and I was gone.

My cock bounced between my legs. It hurt. I felt as if I was going to burst. I had to keep looking.

Children stood on the street corner, listening to the screams. I crossed the street and they never saw me.

A car passed. A hedge protected me from sweeping beam of headlights.

A man walked alone. He was dressed like a baseball player. I hesitated but the ache in my balls drove me.

I ran straight for him. He looked ahead but didn’t see me. The darkness covered me until it was too late.

The first thing he saw was my claws slashing towards him.

SLASH! His shirt ripped open to show a hairy chest.

SLASH! The front of his pants burst to reveal white boxers.

SLASH! The thick baseball glove fell in three separate pieces.

SLASH! The black boxers ripped open to reveal a long limp cock.

The man screamed and grabbed his crotch. A splash of piss fell to the ground. He was not the one.

I ran back into the darkness. His scream died and was replaced by angry cursing.

That street was unsafe. I ducked into yards, jumped fences and ran along a rooftop. I hopped down miles away from my last attack. Perhaps I would find the one here.

A woman sat on a chair in their lawn. A bucket of candy was beside her. She wore a brown dress with feathers. Red hair peeked out from under a Native American headdress.

I growled. Cultural appropriation was always wrong.

I stayed behind her. She looked left and I went to her right. She looked back to the right and I went left. I came close enough to see her dream catcher earrings.

SLASH! My claws went through the back legs of her chair and she fell backwards.

SLASH! Slits appeared in her dress to reveal small breasts.

SLASH! Bare hips were exposed to the moonlight.

SLASH! Dress fragments flew apart to show a shaved pussy.

She screamed. Her hands went to cover her sex. She was not the one.

SLASH! I shredded her headdress just because.

I ran from her front yard. She stopped screaming and ran to her house. I shook a feather from my thumb as I ran.

Joy flowed through me. My cock was painfully hard but the rest of my body was in bliss. It felt right to tear through clothes. My feet were meant to touch the grass and rough concrete. My sealed mouth kept me from howling my pleasure.

A police siren split the night. Ha, let them look for me! They had never found me yet and they wouldn’t tonight.

A woman walked down the street. Her dark skin blended with the night. The tight white dress she wore glowed under the street light. A black and white wig piled above her. Fake bandages covered her arm.

She was dressed as the Bride to a monster. It had to be a sign.

I ran to her from the street. The hard road bit my feet as I ran but I didn’t care. As I came closer, I saw the imaginary stitches she had drawn in her dark flesh.

SLASH! Sharp claws ripped through white fabric to reveal a curvy ass.

SLASH! The wrappings around her arm fell to the ground.

SLASH! A dark breast emerged from torn fabric.

SLASH! The dress opened to uncover a thick bush of black hair.

The woman stumbled back from my flashing claws. Her cheeks flushed pink. Her eyes stared at the pulsing hardness between her legs.

She moaned and I knew that she was the one.

I stood before her. My erection throbbed in front of her. I spread out my arms flexed my fingers. The claws sparkled in the dim light.

The Bride reached for me. The special ones always do. Her hand wrapped around my cock. My body trembled as she pulled herself up to a kneeling position.

My hand went to the back of her head. Five sharp nails pressed lightly against her skin.

Her mouth opened and she took me between her lips. My sealed lips groaned with pleasure.

I released her head and swiped downwards. SLASH! The back of her dress disintegrated beneath my claws.

The Bride sucked. She bounced her head off my crotch. Her lips were tight and her tongue was willing.

SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! I used both hands to shred the back of her dress. White wisps of cloth float to the ground.

She screamed with my cock in her mouth but she kept sucking.

I placed my hand on her dark back. My claws pressed ever so lightly against her flesh. She whimpered but her head also bounced faster on my cock.

My fingers dragged upwards. Sharp nails that could slice leather traced white grooves in her dark skin. The slightest pressure and I would draw blood.

She sucked so hard that she choked on my cock.

I pulled her off my cock. She looked up at me as I lifted a hand up to swipe at her. She trembled in my grasp but she didn’t try to cover herself.

SLASH! SLASH! The front of her dress was completely destroyed. Both of her dark luscious breasts were exposed to the brisk October air.

A second police siren joined the first. News of my return was spreading.

I pulled her mouth back to my cock. The Bride sucked twice as hard as before.

My hand reached down and grabbed a breast. Her plumpness felt good in my fingers. My nails dug into her flesh.

The Bride whimpered. The Bride moaned. The Bride reached between her legs and rubbed at her sex.

She truly was the one.

My fingers squeezed around her breast. Five razor sharp pricks contracted around her breast.

The Bride stroked herself faster.

My other hand went to her neck. I felt the pulsing of her throat. My thumb claw pressed against it with tender care.

She groaned. Her head stopped moving but her tongue didn’t. The Bride licked me with everything that she had.

Her eyes looked up at me. I looked down at her flushed face with my cock between her dark lips.

There was a third siren. Children fled the sidewalks. Porch lights turned off one by one.

They were too late. I came. That terrible ache turned into a year’s worth of pleasure. The glory of tonight’s hunt passed through my cock and unto her tongue.

The Bride groaned as my seed filled her mouth. Her tongue kept licking as my claws tightened against her soft breast. Her throat bulged and swallowed as my thumb claw pressed against it.

She shook as her body came as well.

A sweeping headlight beam illuminated us. Someone shouted.

I pulled out of the Bride and released her flesh. She fell back into the grass; still stroking herself.

A police woman, a real one this time, aimed her gun at me. Her skin yearned to be free of her clothes.

Not tonight. Maybe next year.

I turned and ran. She fired but missed. I returned to the night and the night welcomed me. She gave chase but I was already gone.

Back into the neighborhood I fled. I ran past locked doors and darkened windows. My claws slashed through chain link fences and hanging vines. I slipped past frightened adults unknowing lovers.

I made it home before the claws fell off. I showered and long black hair swirled down my drain. My mouth opened in time to brush my teeth. My cock was limp and sated as I climbed into bed.

It was another good night for the Halloween Slasher.


“Once again true lust between predator and prey is found.”

“I can only imagine what terrible trauma the victims endure! Although I do wonder about the one who submits willingly to the Slasher. Is she cursed as well? Does being used by such a supernatural force alter them forever?”

“I could whisper the answer to you but it will cost you another awful torment. Are you willing, Burny?”

“… Damn you, I am.”

“Then I shall tell you, Burny. As for the rest of you mortals, I will catch your souls later.”

Sep 302015

The thing about magic is that you don’t need components, props and etched runes. If you have the intent and enough will, you can do all the magic you want. Ingredients help but they are not absolutely necessary. They just make the magic easier to cast. They are also a lot of fun to use.

In some cases how we get the components is too fun to pass up.

Tonight I was at Maggie’s Point. Maggie’s Point was a special place. It was high on a ridge which meant it was close to the powers that lurk in the sky. The forest was near by which connected it to nature spirits. The ground was solid stone that had lasted for ages. Looking down from the ridge you could see the lake which invited the beings of the water. In the day time it was a decent view but at night when the moon is high and the lake surface sparkles with silver, it is quite gorgeous.

There were nine cars parked here by the time I arrived. Six of the cars were rocking and I assumed the other three soon would. No one was here for the view.

I was nude except for a bag slung over my shoulder. The ground still held the heat of the summer day and I felt every degree with my bare feet. The moonlight did cool things with my white hair. A warm breeze kissed my throbbing cock.

My eyes closed and I pictured the blue circle. Mist poured from the circle. I imagined and felt my body fade from view.

My preference was to work right to left. I headed to the car on the far end. The car wasn’t moving but the windows were steamed.

I opened the door. The couple inside didn’t notice. The car light came on but they didn’t see it. A man was sitting in the driver’s side and the man in the passenger seat was giving him a blowjob.

My spell held. The man getting sucked had his eyes open but he was looking at the lake. The man that was sucking didn’t look up.

I smiled. Ten years ago you wouldn’t see a gay couple here. Times were changing and it was about fucking time.

There was work to do. I pulled a small pair of scissors from my bag. There was a choice to be made. Did I want something of pleasure received or pleasure given?

I bent down to the man sucking the cock. Gently I lifted a lock of his blonde hair. The man paused to groan and I snipped his hair. My hand had pulled away as he went back to sucking.

The hair went into a small plastic bag and the bag went into a fuzzy pouch inside my satchel. I closed the door and whispered a blessing of orgasms.

The second car was rocking back and forth. The window was rolled down and I looked inside. In the back seat, a man was thrusting inside of a woman beneath him.

What I wanted was in the front seat. I reached inside and picked up a pair of discarded red panties. They were soaked.

The panties went into a plastic bag and the bag went into a pouch of rough leather. I stepped away and whispered a blessing of lubrication.

The third car was rocking and had steamy windows. A dark woman was riding a man that was in the passenger seat. He had her shirt pulled up and was sucking on one of her small tits.

I opened the passenger door. The light came on and they kept fucking. I bent down and studied them to see what I should harvest.

The woman looked at me. I froze in surprise. She shouldn’t be able to do that.

I waited for her to panic but she didn’t. She kept riding her lover. Her mouth opened to groan.

Maybe she didn’t see me. I moved to the right. No, her eyes followed me. Well, her eyes followed my cock. She definitely saw me.

It was possible that she had a touch of magic herself. I kept the blue circle in my thoughts. My power had to be greater than hers. I just needed to work fast.

I reached for the man. He was sweating profusely. I took a cloth from my bag and wiped his forehead.

The dark woman kept looking at my cock. She kept looking as I put the cloth into a plastic bag. Her eyes were on my cock as I put the bag into a silk pouch.

I closed the door and walked away. My cock was still throbbing. My heart was pounding. That shouldn’t have happened.

Blue circle. Blue circle over flowing with mist. My body fading from view.

The fourth car was rocking. It was an SUV. On a hunch I opened the back door.

The seats in the back were down. A couple was fucking on the floor. The brunette was on her hands and knees while a dark man fucked her from behind. Hard brutal thrusts made the woman whimper with pleasure.

I climbed into the van. The man kept fucking his lover. The impact of his thrusts sent quaking ripples along her ass.

The woman grabbed my cock. My heart stopped. This was impossible. Why wasn’t she yelling? She knew I was here but for some reason she wasn’t upset.

She pulled on my cock, wanting me to come closer. I looked at her lover. Now he too was looking at me but just like her, he didn’t seem to be angry.

I crawled over to her and she pulled my cock into her mouth. Needy lips wrapped around me. Her lover kept fucking her and I felt her groans on my cock.

The man looked me in the eyes as his lover sucked me. He pounded her faster. It was turning him on.

Something strange was happening tonight. They could see me but they were accepting me into their fucking. It was like the blue circle was working but in a different way than it had before.

Well, that’s magic.

The woman had an extraordinary wet mouth. Spit slid down my cock and dripped from my balls. Her mouth was as wet as any pussy.

The man growled. His amazing body fucked even faster. I was jealous of his endurance.

They were going to come and soon. I was close to coming myself.

I pulled out of the woman’s mouth. Orgasms were powerful magic and there was no telling what it would do to my already misbehaving spell.

The woman screamed her orgasm as I climbed out of the van. The man screamed his right after I closed the doors.

That was close. I walked away and pulled out a cloth from my bag. I wrapped it around my cock and groaned. The temptation to jerk off was strong but I restrained myself. I wiped the woman’s spit from my cock and then put the cloth in a plastic bag. The plastic bag went into my satchel.

This was a weird night. I thought about going home but there was more to gather.

Blue circle. Blue circle with thick white mist pouring from it. The mist embraced and shrouded me. I was invisible, unnoticed and of no consequence to those who see me.

I walked to the fifth car. The windows were steamed but it wasn’t moving.

Someone stood outside the car. It was a woman and she was naked. She was plump and round with short dark hair. No, moonlight revealed her hair to be green.

At first I thought she was a lover exiting the car for a quick piss but then I saw her bag. It was a purse and slightly smaller than mine. She wasn’t a lover; she was a magician like me.

Annoyance flickered within me. I wasn’t aware of any magicians in the area. Had she moved here? Was she passing through? I had several places like Maggie Point and I resented the idea of sharing.

She turned towards me and my annoyance turned to tolerance. Fuck, she was young. Magicians were getting younger every year. I didn’t envy the life of wonder she had before her. I hoped she had a coven.

“Greetings,” she said. “My name is Astra.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I lied. “My name is Samuel,” I lied again.

“Be careful,” Astra said. “My spirit cloak doesn’t seem to be working. I could be casting it wrong but it might also be something in the air.”

Damn, that was nice of her. Most magicians would never admit a possible fault in their skills. It might just be a sign of her inexperience but I was inclined to believe she was being genuinely friendly. I softened to her.

Well, my heart did. My cock was getting harder thanks to her ridiculously heavy breasts.

“You are probably casting it right,” I said. “Mine is acting odd too. There is something happening tonight.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. A warm breeze blew through and we both took a moment to enjoy it. Her eyes drifted to my thighs while mine lingered on her round hips.

Sympathy prodded me. “Looking for anything in particular tonight?”

“I nearly have everything but I still haven’t found a pair of panties washed in lust. I would have thought they would be more common here.”

“I have a pair I don’t need,” I said. I reached into my satchel and felt for the right bag.

“Oh thanks,” Astra said. “I have some pubic hair from a guy who was getting his cock sucked. Can you use those?”

“Yes, I can. Thank you.”

We exchanged sample bags. The car next to us began to rock.

“Good gardening,” I said to her.

“Safe travels,” Astra said.

She walked towards the SUV I had left. I headed towards the newly rocking car.

I stopped. There was something in the air tonight. It seemed a shame to waste it on simple component collection.

I turned around and I saw that Astra had stopped in her steps too. She turned and a smile lit up her face. I called her over with a wave of my arm. She came to me with swinging hips.

She grabbed my head and pulled me down for a kiss. Her mouth opened to mine and out tongues danced. Her fingers locked in my hair and kept me as a very willing prisoner to her mouth.

My hands were free while she took my lips. I squeezed her plump ass and sank my fingers into warm flesh. I cupped her breast and played with her hard nipple. I pulled her hips to mine and let my cock throb against the bush of her sex.

She groaned and our kiss was broken. I pushed her back against the rocking car. My mouth left her lips and kissed down her neck. I left a trail of bites down her shoulder, down the slope of her breast, over her hard nipple, down the underside of her breast, over her ribs, down to her belly, past her waist, and then onto three mouthfuls of musky hair until I came to the lips of her sex.

“Yes,” she moaned. Astra leaned against the car as it continued to shake with the fucking within.

I kissed her sex. I whispered a silent prayer to the gate of her sex. I entered her with my tongue.

Her hands went back to my hair. She pulled me towards her sex. Hips and thighs quivered against me.

I licked. Long slow steady licks at the source of her desire. No matter how tightly she twisted my hair or how urgently she pulled me to her, my tongue was slow, steady and methodical.

There was a sweep of headlight beams across our bodies. The crunching of gravel came to a stop nearby. An engine idled shortly before cutting off.

I looked up at Astra. My lips were soaked. I brushed her sensitive lips with my thumb.

She pulled me up by my hair. I let her.

She turned around and presented her ass to. I grabbed it both hands.

She pressed her tits to the driver’s side window of the car. I wondered if they could see the moons she was showing them.

All of the cars were rocking now. Even the new car was in motion with vigorous sex. It was time we joined them.

I pushed Astra’s legs apart. The tip of my cock went to the soaked patch I had been licking. Cock in hand, I tapped the tip against her lips.

Once, twice, three times, four times, five times and six.

I slipped into her. She cried out. Her yell echoed down the ridge and onto the lake.

All of the cars kept rocking.

I held onto her hips and fucked her. My hips crashed into her abundant ass. The car shook with the force of our fucking.

Did the people inside the car notice their car was rocking harder? Did they look up to see Astra’s plump breasts pressed against the window. Did they hear her moans? I wanted to think they did.

“Harder,” Astra asked and I obliged. Her pussy was a hot summer night. Deeper and deeper I pushed inside her.

Someone cried out their orgasm. It was a long shuddering cry that hung in the air.

Astra and I kept fucking.

Frogs chanted in the woods nearby. They called to each other with croaks of lust. The magic here affected all kinds of animals.

My fingers sunk into Astra’s hips. I watched her flesh quake with the fury of our thrusts. A lover’s moon illuminated every shapely curve.

The last hot breeze of summer blew against us. She reached back and grabbed my hand. Her fingers clutched mine painfully as she came.

“Fuck!” she yelled.

The cars kept rocking.

“I am close,” I roared.

“Wait, I want this,” Astra said. She pulled my cock out of her and turned around. Before me she sunk down to her knees and spat on her tits. Cupping her tits, she lifted them to me in offering.

A magician’s seed is a powerful ingredient. It shouldn’t be given away without something powerful in return. It was a sign of her inexperience that she would demand such a thing free of payment.

On the other hand, she had really nice tits. I wanted to fuck them. Who was acting like the novice now?

I pushed my cock into her tits. Warm softness embraced my slick cock. The head of my cock emerged from her cleavage.

Astra looked up at me. “Give me your come. I want it so bad and I will earn it.”

Fuck. I grabbed her shoulders. She pressed her tits tighter around my cock. My hips bucked and I fucked her warm mounds.

Someone else screamed an orgasm. The car beside us was rocking so hard that I feared it would tip over. There was something powerful here tonight.

“Please, please, please,” Astra begged. Her green hair glowed in the night.

I came. Seed sprayed up from between her tits. She squeezed her tits tighter and milked me. I shuddered in the night as she methodically drained my cock.

When I finally stopped coming, she reached for her bag. I leaned on the car that was still rocking. I had to stop and stand up because it was making me seasick.

Astra collected my seed on a cloth and added it to her bag. I wondered what ritual she would use it for. I hoped it was for something filthy.

She closed her bag and came back to me. She held my cock while she kissed me. It was a light grip and a soft kiss.

“Good hunting,” Astra said. “I am heading home.”

I kissed her back and watched her walk away. Her ass glowed with moon light. I wondered why she was leaving with so many other resources to gather.

Oh yes. I was here for the cars and the couples. She had come for something stronger, rarer and harder to come by.

And she had got it.

Sep 232015

Darren hurried his way down Pumpkin Street. His satchel was full of panties to mend when he got home. He held the satchel close to him for fear of robbers stealing the personal items of twenty customers.

A crowd was forming in the street. People donned black cowls that covered their faces but left their screaming mouths free. Cars angrily honked at the growing mass. Fists shook in the air as the crowd swelled with new members.

They were Shamers. Darren recognized them from the paper. The Mayor of Atlantica called them anarchists. The bankers called them lazy. The police called them terrorists. The critics called them outdated.

Darren stuck to the sidewalk and tried to walk past them. He had panties to mend. His boss paid him a flat fee for every panty he finished at home. There was enough in his satchel to pay for a ticket at the Owl Theater.

A woman was on the edge of the protestors. She saw Darren walking by and she grabbed his arm. Darren clutched his satchel tighter.

“Join us!” the woman yelled. The cowl concealed her eyes but her lips were angry. She wore a tight blue t-shirt that outlined her breasts. Darren identified them as 32 B cups.

“I have to go,” Darren said.

The woman held onto his arm. “They’re cutting the budget for the Stew Kitchens! The number of poor is growing but the kitchens are shrinking!”

“I’m sorry,” Darren said. He tugged gently at the arm that held him.

She didn’t let go. “Join us! Every voice counts! We will shame the rich and powerful together!” Her tongue had a black piercing that looked like a spider sat in her mouth.

“I hope you do,” Darren offered.

“I have a mask,” the woman said. She pulled out a cowl from her pants pocket. “The police won’t know who you are!”

Darren shuddered. The police would know. If there was one thing he learned from his horrible experience with the police is that they always knew.

“I’ll join!” someone said. It was a man a little younger than Darren. “Fuck the Mayor!” he said.

The woman let go of Darren’s arm. Her lips had turned from anger to disgust. She handed the extra mask to the new man. He put it on as she pulled him towards the mob in the street.

Darren was free to go but he stayed. The masked woman kept looking at him as she yelled the crowd’s slogans. He felt she was yelling it to him.

“Feed them more!” the crowd yelled.

The angry cars honked in annoyance.

“Feed them more!” the masked woman yelled while looking at Darren.

“Feed them yourself!” someone yelled from a window.

“Feed them more!” the crowd chanted as the woman pointed at Darren.

Darren didn’t move.

The masked woman turned the man she recruited towards him. As the crowd pumped their fists in the air, the masked woman dropped to her knees. The masked woman unzipped his pants and pulled out his thick pale cock.

Darren looked around. A crowd of onlookers had gathered on the street. They were screaming obscenities at the crowd but did anyone see the kneeling masked woman? He wasn’t sure.

The masked woman took the man’s cock into her lips. The new recruit stopped shouting and cheered instead. The masked woman swallowed all of the thick pale cock between her angry lips.

A throbbing began in Darren’s pants. He wondered how the spider piercing on her tongue must feel.

The masked woman’s head bobbed on the new recruit’s cock. Small breasts jiggled within her tight shirt. Her hands gripped the man’s ass to drive his cock deep down her throat.

Darren brought the satchel down over his erection. He needn’t bother. No one was looking at him. They were all shouting at the Shamers.

He looked to see if any other Shamers were engaged in such blatant acts. One woman had stripped off her shirt. Three men were baring their ass to the honking cars. No, the only one performing a sex act was the one he had refused.

A new chant had started. “Shame on you! Shame on you! Shame on you!” The mob had grown as more people joined but only one protestor was sucking the cock of another.

The masked woman turned towards Darren with the man’s cock in her mouth. He watched her cheek bulge with the tip of his cock. Her eyes were covered but Darren had no doubt that the masked woman was looking at him.

Was she trying to seduce him into the crowd? Was she punishing him for not joining her? Or was this his reward for joining that he had unknowingly given up?

Darren didn’t know. His cock ached with an urgent need to slip into angry lips and feel the tapping of a piercing.

The masked woman turned back towards the cock. The man was no longer shouting. He reached down and held her head to his crotch. Darren watched as the man shook and the masked woman shuddered.

A scream went up. People rushed past Darren and he lost sight of the masked woman. Down at the end of the street were flashes of light. Darren knew from experience that the light came from the sun reflecting off the mirror face shields of the police.

It was time to flee. Darren looked back into the mob and saw that most of them had run.

The masked woman hadn’t left. She was still on her knees although the new recruit was long gone. She wiped her lips and sucked on her fingers.

Darren couldn’t wait any longer. He ran down the street with the others. Discarded masks littered the sidewalk as he ran. His heart pounded as he heard the marching steps of the police behind him.

His cock throbbed as he ran all the way home.

Sep 162015

Explorer’s Log: I have arrived at a moon orbiting a gas giant at the star system designated “Queen’s Forbidden Secret” by Royal Astronomers. The moon was once heavily populated as evidenced by the cities but once again I am detecting no life signs. There isn’t even a single germ alive on the planet.

Obviously this is due to the extra-dimensional being I call Voice. The sick entity likes to kill things as I have witnessed many times before. I almost flattered that it wants me to become a vessel for it to spread its hobby of mass murder to other worlds.

Oddly though, Voice has been quiet lately. It might be due to having moved away from the being’s influence but I doubt it. If it has the power to kill all life on this moon, talking to me shouldn’t be that hard. We’ll see if Voice gets chatty when I land on the moon and look around. End Explorer’s Log.

Explorer’s Personal Log: I rather not land on the dead moon at all. The sooner I get away from Voice the better. Unfortunately, the Royal Navy protocols insist I touch down and take a survey just in case Queen Erishella decides that whatever is there outweighs the danger the lives of Royal Navy crewmen.

Vaquel Di stood in the middle of the largest city on the moon. The glow of the blue gas giant above her turned her skintight yellow spacesuit into a deep shade of green. Short pink hair floated inside her glassteel helmet. Her dark brown skin looked sickly in the blue light.

Dead bodies surrounded the explorer. Naked blue corpses filled the streets. Shreds of clothes bounced in the low gravity.

“What killed you?” Vaquel said out loud. A light device was strapped to her wrist and she swept an illuminating beam back and forth. No answers came to light.

The bodies hadn’t decayed. Decomposition was tricky without carrion eaters or microbes. They looked like they had died yesterday. Their necks were bruised. If Vaquel had to guess, it looked like they all died from strangulation.

It was too much. Vaquel turned her light beam towards the buildings. Murals covered the walls and every mural depicted males and females stroking one another and themselves. Judging by the murals, this race was bisexual and therefore fully civilized.

They also really loved hand jobs. There were no murals of oral or copulation.

She had a theory about that. Looking at the murals, the males had cocks that turned five revolutions like a screw. Scans of the female corpses revealed that their vaginas were similarly shaped. The hip motions necessary to complete that connection must have been a science to itself. Hand jobs really probably a hell of a lot easier.

Vaquel smiled. A hand job would be nice right about now. When was the last time someone brought her to orgasm not with tongue or cock but by fingers?

She reached between her legs. Her fingers pressed against her flimsy spacesuit. Wet moist heat was one thin fabric away.

Vaquel let out a sigh and moved her hand away. She had a survey to complete.

The space explorer jumped and the light gravity let her hop nearly a block away. Scanners had detected an abundance of raymonite. The rare element was extremely useful in anti-gravity engines as well as constructing environment resistant clothing. The amount detected was astonishing and Vaquel was duty bound to at least verify its existence.

She slowly jumped through the city. The steady hops gave her plenty of time to observe the blue lit scenes of death. Patterns emerged although she wasn’t sure what to make of them.

Vehicles had been brought together to face huddled groups of the dead.

Candles had been left in the windows of every building she passed.

Some of the strangled corpses had some clothes on but all of them had their crotches exposed.

Every street light had been shattered.

“What game did you play here?” Vaquel asked the Voice. “What manipulation of the laws of reality killed these people? How did they entertain you?”

The Voice was silent.

Vaquel reached the location of the raymonite. It was a massive building with a large entrance. The signs were in an unknown language although Vaquel thought a more appropriate term would be to call it a dead language.

There were pictures though. Painted around the entrance were depictions of corridors, turns and twists. There were scenes of blue aliens walking and smiling.

Vaquel entered the building. There were more corpses. She hopped over them to go further in.

Yellow walls surrounded her. There was a metallic sheen to the wall that was familiar. She touched a wall and felt warmth through her spacesuit gloves. It was raymonite. They had coated the walls in it.

She floated towards a junction and turned right. It curved to the left. Another corpse lay on the ground. The walls were smooth except for a smashed electric light. The path continued and another way branched to the right.

Vaquel smiled. It was a maze. If the maze took up the entire space of the building she had seen outside, then this maze might be the largest she had ever seen. It was astonishing. When you factor in the amount of raymonite involved, it was downright exhilarating.

Who knows? Some poor royal Navy Captain might be charged with coming here after all.

She kept going. Slow controlled jumps let her fall into a lazy rhythm. For the last few months, Vaquel had been buried within the presence of Voice. It was nice to be immersed in something simple like a maze. If she got lost she could always use her scanner to find the way out.

It was completely dark except for her wrist beam. The yellow walls sparkled like the sun when her beam swept over it. Deeper and deeper she went.

As Vaquel stood at a five way intersection, something touched her ass. She spun around and drew her plasma pistol. There was nothing there.

Had she imagined it? No, the memory was fresh. Something had dragged its fingers across the curve of her buttock down to between her crack and back over the other buttock. She wouldn’t have imagined that.

Perhaps it was time to leave. Vaquel turned around and went back the way she came.

A turn, a curve and a straight walk later, something touched her armpit. Vaquel giggled at the tickling touch before swinging her elbow around. She connected with empty air.

Vaquel spun around with her wrist beam. Except for a single prone corpse, there was nothing but shadows and yellow walls.

Some mysteries were better left unsolved. Vaquel continued on her way back. She walked briskly down a curving path and took the second turn.

Something moved up ahead. She only got a brief glance at a dark figure before it ducked down an intersection. Her thumb activated the warming sequence for her plasma pistol.

Vaquel thought about chasing the figure but decided against it. Chasing things in a maze was easily a bad idea. It was better to just leave, return to her ship, take off and file her report.

A flicking touch at the base of her spine made her giggle. She spun around and fired her pistol. A bright ball of plasma emerged and illuminated the corridor before obliterating a wall.

For one brief moment she saw the dark figure again. Despite the red glow of the plasma, she only saw a dark outline as the thing jumped to the side. It had too many arms.

Darkness returned and Vaquel aimed her wrist beam. Back and forth she swept her surroundings as her pistol recharged.

“Come out!” she yelled.

All she heard was the melting of the wall.

Vaquel made a quick decision and took off running. There was no Royal Navy bonus for space explorers killing enemies. She kicked off a wall and the low gravity sent her flying down the corridor. When she reached her next intersection and grabbed the corner and flung herself in a new direction.

Something tackled her in mid jump. She slammed against a wall and gasped. Her pistol hand was grabbed with a strength she couldn’t fight. The vice grip forced her hand to open in pain and her pistol floated away.

Vaquel’s other wrist thrown against the wall. The sound of her wrist beam breaking echoed down the maze.

Darkness surrounded her. A snarl came to Vaquel’s lips. She lashed out with a kick and punch. There was nothing but air.

Something fluttered against her stomach. A giggle was forced from her lips. There was more fluttering under both armpits. Something light danced behind her knee.

Vaquel started to laugh. She couldn’t help it. The thing was tickling her and the spacesuit was thin enough to feel every glancing touch.

She laughed as the tickling intensified. Years of combat training were forgotten as she flailed and rolled. No matter how much she struggled, the shifting touches kept tickling her.

It was impossible to think. All she could focus on was avoiding those fluttering touches. She writhed on the ground and tried to grab the tickling hands. They were always gone before she could reach them; tickling some other vulnerable part of her body.

Among the tickles were also sharp nicks. Tickle, tickle, snip, tickle, tickle. A brief graze of claw tore through her spacesuit before nimble fingers tickled helpless areas. As Vaquel rolled around, she felt more and more of her body exposed to the shadowy tickler.

Her glassteel helmet fell off. Vaquel barely noticed it as relentless fingers danced over her ribs. She breathed in the stale dead air that had a taste of raymonite.

Breathing became a problem. The damn hands wouldn’t stop. How many were there? Four? A dozen? More? They tickled and they tickled and Vaquel couldn’t stop laughing.

Suddenly the tickles stopped. Vaquel gasped for air. She was naked on the ground. Her body felt sensitive from head to toe. The tickling had stopped but she felt phantom flutters from fingers that weren’t there.

A hand reached between her thighs. It was a welcome change to feel something solid and steady after so many glancing touches. It pressed down hard on the soaked bush of her pussy. Vaquel was stunned by how wet she was.

Another hand grabbed her throat. The strong grip tightened around her throat. Vaquel grabbed the arm but it was like pushing a mountain.

The hand on her pussy moved. It stroked the outside of her sex. Vaquel’s hips lifted towards the hand instinctively.

One hand tightened and Vaquel gasped. Another hand stroked and Vaquel moaned.

Both hands released her. Vaquel barely had time to suck in air before the tickling returned. She lashed out with her arms and legs but the tickling touches were all over her.

She felt the tickles on her heavy breasts. Every inch was of her curves were sensitive to the touch. Her nipples were harder than diamonds.

She felt the tickles on her long legs. Up and down the tickling fingers toyed with her flesh. When the undersides of her feet were touched, she screamed with hysterical laughs.

She felt the tickles on her sweating back. Down her spine the marauding fingers tickled her at will. No matter how much she rolled on the ground, the fingers kept tickling.

The hands tickled her at that spot inside her hip. The fingers tickled her neck right under her hair. The tips of shadows tickled her between her toes. The unknown creature tickled her without mercy.

Vaquel screamed with laughter. She writhed in indignant rage. She howled for the thing to stop.

Once again the tickling stopped. Vaquel was shaking with exhaustion from being tickled so cruelly. She was almost grateful for the fingers back around her neck. She spread her legs for the hand upon her sex.

This time the fingers entered. Thick strong digits parted her sex lips and slipped inside. She cried out as she was fingerfucked on the floor.

Her cries turned into a choking gasp. The hand around her neck was too tight. She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs, already burning with laughter, was now aching for air.

“Come,” the Voice said.

Vaquel couldn’t speak her answer. Even if she wasn’t being choked there was no way she could talk while being this vigorously fucked.

“This is going to kill me,” Vaquel thought.

“Come and die,” the Voice answered.

The fingers fucked her harder. Vaquel’s sensitive body arched as orgasm was moments away.

“You wanted me to take you other worlds,” Vaquel thought. “I can’t do that if I am dead.”

The fingers around her throat clamped down. Stars burst in front of her eyes.

“The Tickle Game would be worth it,” Voice thought.

She was going to come. She was going to die. Both were about to happen.

The hands released her. Vaquel gasped for air and moaned her frustration.

The tickling returned. It was more intense this time or perhaps Vaquel was too sensitive. The quivering touches forced her to laugh and to squirm but now it also evoked pain wherever she was touched.

Vaquel’s laughs turned to screams. She was exhausted but her body kept twisting under the tickling touches. She could barely breathe but her sex was wetter than it had been in months. She wanted to escape but she also didn’t want to leave before the strong hands returned to her sex.

Something bumped against her spastic hands. Her fingers closed around it and recognized her plasma pistol. She almost fired it but remembered how little good it did last time.

The tickling intensified. Vaquel clutched the plasma pistol to her sensitive breasts as the tickling fingers ravished her body. She couldn’t think of a plan but she knew she had to hold onto the pistol.

The tickling was too much. Her lungs were about to burst. Aches formed in her legs from kicking too much. Maybe it wasn’t strangulation that killed this race but simple exhaustion. Perhaps the only escape would be to fire the pistol on herself?

The tickling stopped. Vaquel sobbed with relief even as the hand returned to her throat. Other fingers entered her sex and Vaquel quivered with joy.

It fucked her hard. It was too rough and the fingers were too big but Vaquel’s body responded anyway. She fucked the fingers back with exhausted hips.

The fingers around her throat tightened. This was it. It would never let her go until she had died.

A plan came to mind. The simplicity of it shamed her.

She waited.

The thing finger fucked her to orgasm. A wave of bliss swept through her. Her toes curled as the thing’s hand tightened around her throat for the last time.

Vaquel’s thumb hit a switch on the plasma pistol. Light erupted from all over the pistol. For one brief moment she saw the horrible multiple armed winged thing that held her down and then it was gone.

She gasped and rolled over onto her side. Her body began to float in the low gravity. A choking spasm came over her and she let it happen. It was good to breathe once more.

The plasma pistol lit up the area around her. It contained super heated gases at all times so emitting some of the light it contained was a little used emergency function. In her panic and arousal, Vaquel had completely forgotten about it.

“I lived, asshole,” Vaquel said.

Voice was quiet. Perhaps he was sulking because he didn’t get to enjoy the Tickle Game. Maybe he was indifferent because he knew she could now be his vessel.

Vaquel floated in the hallway and stretched out her limbs. Her neck was tender. Beads of her sexual desire were forming spheres in the low gravity. Bruises from her struggles were already forming.

She held the glowing plasma pistol in front of her as she kicked off the wall. The darkness retreated in front of her as she floated down the hall.

Some of the shadows had arms.

Vaquel thought about the future Royal Navy soldiers who would come to loot the raymonite. They would carry over lapping light projectors. Their suits could be rigged with lights. The roof could be removed to allow the light from the nearby gas giant.

She thought about the shattered lights on the labyrinth walls. She remembered the extinguished candles and the dead vehicle lights outside. She wondered how safe the aliens who loved here felt until the darkness came for them.

Nothing tried to stop her as she exited the maze. Nothing waited for her outside. The blue light of the gas giant turned her dark brown skin a sickly shade of purple.

Vaquel’s nude body hopped towards her space ship. A piece of paper debris glanced the back of her leg. She spun around and fired her plasma pistol instinctively. The paper vanished into ashes.

The area of light around Vaquel was temporarily disrupted. A shadow under an archway stepped towards her. A shadow on the ground rose and reached for her leg. A shadow next to a corpse stood.

The light returned to full force. Vaquel held the pistol up in the air. The shadows sunk back into the darkness.

Vaquel touched her sex. She was still damp. Her lungs were sore as well as the rest of her body but she thought fondly on the strong strokes of the unseen fingers. Was there a way she could stay just a little longer?

She touched her neck. The bruises on her neck made her wince.

Vaquel kept touching her neck for the rest of her journey back to her ship.

Sep 142015

wicker-man-1973-britt-ekland-dance-sceneI watched The Wicker Man this weekend. I saw the original, not the Nicholas Cage comedy remake. It was a movie that I had been aware of for decades and knew the plot but had just never bothered to get around to seeing until now.

It is a powerful movie. It was also not what I expected. An outsider comes to a remote village to investigate the disappearance of a young girl. The policeman is horrified to discover that the villagers are pagans who let the local christian church fall into ruins while they practice their old ways. It becomes pretty clear very fast that they probably sacrificed the young girl because they had a bad harvest.

Now this is a story idea that I am familiar with. It’s Shadows over Innsmouth or Goatswood or even the Children of the Corn. As a viewer I know this situation and I know how the villagers will be secretive, ominous and outright hostile to the outsider.

But that isn’t what happens. The first clue is the music which drove my horror-loving wife up the wall. The music in Wicker Man is upbeat folk songs. It sounds like a cheerful Woodstock movie instead of a dreadful horror movie. In fact, it is pretty much a musical as key conflicts are expressed in songs. This bleeds into the villagers who instead of being secretive and hostile are downright proud and friendly over their heathen ways. The villagers fuck and they fuck a lot and they sing a lot of songs about fucking. They like being worshipers of the old gods because they get to fuck a lot. They also get a kick out of embarrassing the prudish outsider.

In fact, we have seen this situation a millions times in a different kind of genre: porn. The puritan stranger comes to a sexually free land and slowly comes around to their ways before descending into a journey of orgiastic discovery. Everyone comes and has a good time.

Except this is a horror movie and the sexually repressed policeman is freaking the fuck out. Eventually he gets burned alive so yeah, his freaking out was self-preservation but again, it is hard not to see the policeman as the problem in this movie. Everyone else is fucking and singing songs. Why does he have to be such a downer? Oh yeah, there’s a missing girl.

Let me also say that the policeman’s sacrificial death might be one of the most disturbing things I have seen in awhile. While not graphic, the pleas for rescue, the crying, the wailing prayers and the joyful indifference of the villagers was very upsetting. It felt real and cruel in a way I don’t normally see in horror movies. The lack of  rescue genuinely surprised me as I am so accustomed to Hollywood softening the despair in a movie. My movie long mockery of the policeman turned to genuine pity at the end.

But I guess that was part of the point of Wicker Man. These villagers embraced life and death. They fucked and killed and fucked. They were open and honest about their sexuality and they were open and embracing of their ritual murders.

It is a strange movie. It is a sexy movie. It is a horrifying movie. It has one of the best attempted seduction scenes ever with Britt Ekland dancing naked. It has one of the more unlikable protagonists in the prudish police man. It has Christopher Lee in one of his best roles.

You should see it.

Sep 092015

Felicia Grafal Flores waved goodbye to the delivery men. Her house robe fell open and a plump brown breast peeked out. She pretended not to notice.

The pale delivery man blushed and looked away. The darker man smiled and waved back.

Felicia closed the door and giggled. She loved flashing delivery men. It was a shame that only one in six ever tried to follow up on her flirting. She was really in the mood to give a blowjob this morning.

Oh well, at least she got a new coffee table this morning. Emil and she had bought it this past weekend to replace the one they broke. Hopefully this one will be sturdier for fucking.

Felicia inspected the table. The delivery men had been careful and there were no marks on it. Someone had polished the surface and the wood gleamed. The silver of the cabinet door handles reflected the red of her robe.

She bent over and opened a cabinet door. A branch of a bush popped out. A humid smell came from within. There was the caw of a bird.

A smile came to Felicia’s lips. She should have known. The coffee table was new and Felicia always had a certain way with new things.

She got down on her hands and knees. The interior of the table was filled with branches. The leaves were slightly blue. The foliage was thick and hard to see through.

It smelled wonderful. A multitude of scents competed for her attention.

Felicia put her head inside the cabinet. She took a deep breathe. It was invigorating.

Something grabbed her long black curly hair. Felicia was pulled up to her waist through the cabinet opening. The branches scratched at her face and tugged at her house robe. She felt one of her heavy breast come free.

It was dark inside. Something brushed her cheek and she recoiled. The hand holding her hair wouldn’t let her move away. It kept her in place as the thing slapped against her cheek.

Felicia recognized the meaty weight. She turned her head and felt it brush her lips. Her tongue slipped out and gave it a lick. It shuddered under her tongue.

It was a cock; a rather thick and musky smelling cock but definitely a cock.

Her mouth watered.

The cock pushed against her lips. Felicia opened her mouth and felt the tip slide between her lips. Her tongue danced over the tip and tasted him.

She tasted sweat. She tasted dirt. She tasted musk. She tasted cock.

A hand pulled aside her robe. It reached under her and grabbed a hanging breast. The fingers opened and closed around her breast. She felt the dirt from the fingers grind against her skin.

Who was this person?

It was a difficult position to stay in. Felicia was on her knees but to fit through the coffee table cabinet doors she had to get down to her elbows. The hand wrapped itself in her hair and kept her mouth down by its cock.

Felicia lowered her legs to be flat on the carpet back in her living room. Her wet pussy pressed against her house robe.

The cock pushed inside her mouth. Felicia licked every inch that came into her. She explored the veins of his cock with her tongue as her lips tightened.

There was a growl and it came from the owner of the cock.

Felicia reached out for the base of his cock. Her fingers glided down to his hairy sack. She gently massaged the heavy balls.

The man growled again. He squeezed her breast painfully hard.

A jolt of desire went down to Felicia’s sex. A surge of wetness dripped onto her robe. She humped the floor of her living room.

She pulled back and pulled his cock from her mouth. Her tongue flicked over the tip, down the lengthy shaft and to the base of his cock. The cock throbbed against her cheek and was heavy against her face.

The grip in her hair tightened but he didn’t try to drive her back to his cock. He did squeeze tighter on her poor breast though.

Felicia appreciated that. In the darkness she pulled his cock back to her mouth. Her sealed around his cock as she took all of him into her mouth. She sucked down to the base of his cock and stuck her tongue out past her lips. Her tongue flicked his dirty balls.

The man growled. He let go of her breast and both hands grabbed her hair. His hips pumped towards her mouth.

Felicia moaned and allowed some of his cock to leave her mouth. Her hand wrapped around the base of his cock that was coated in spit. She sucked on half of his cock while she stroked the other half.

The man growled louder.

Felicia wondered what her husband would do if he saw her right now. He would pull her house robe aside and spread her legs. His hand would go to her pussy and set just how wet she was. He would take his cock out and instead of giving her what she needed, he would stick his cock into her tight asshole instead. He would fuck her ass while she sucked a stranger’s cock and leave her poor wet pussy neglected.

She moaned and sucked harder. Her hips humped the floor as she stroked the stranger’s cock faster. The branches pulled at her hair as she bobbed her head on the man’s cock. The top half of her body settled into the dirt of the ground.

The man cried out. Felicia felt the first splash of seed inside her mouth a moment later. Her head stopped moving but her fingers jerked faster. She milked the man as he shot streams of come into her mouth.

He tasted fruity. She swallowed it all.

There was a roaring sound that did not come from the man. The cock quickly pulled from her mouth and the hands left her hair.

The ground shook. Something heavy was coming.

Felicia retreated out of the cabinet. Her tits and face were covered in dirt.

The branches inside the coffee table shook. There was another roar and it was much closer. The ground shook again and this time Felicia felt the floor in her house shake.

She slammed the cabinet doors shut. The roaring stopped and so did the shaking.

Felicia’s heart was racing. Her pussy was also clenching.

She laughed and rolled onto her back. Her legs spread and she reached down with dirty fingers. She rubbed her wet pussy and recalled the feeling of the stranger’s cock in her mouth.

Sep 022015

Magicians are terrible record keepers. As much as we seek out lore from others we are terrible at recording our own. We rarely keep notes and when we do we tend to jot down what we consider is important at the time instead of writing everything. This can be painful for when we later refer to our notes trying to ascertain what the fuck the sound of a fan has to do with the strengthening of personal wards.

If we were any good at making good reliable records, we would probably be scientists instead of magicians.

I was reminded of this when I smelled a burning coming from upstairs. I rushed up the stairs and tried to remember if I had left any candles going after last night’s ritual orgy. The orgy room was empty, as was the summoning room, the guest bedroom, the enemy bedroom, my bedroom and the Room That Shall Not Be Named. That just left the sunroom.

The sunroom door creaked as I opened it. I tried to remember the last time I used it. It had become less of a sunroom and more of a sloppy storage room.

The heat hit me as I swung open the door. The burning smell was coming from here. A singular brightness filled the room and I shaded my eyes.

There was a woman on the floor. A circle of sunlight surrounded her. Her skin was pale but it glowed in the sunlight. Long red hair fell onto her naked breasts. Her hand was buried between her thighs and she was rubbing a fiery patch of pubic hair.

The fiery patch was not a euphemism. Flames danced along her sex lips. As my eyes adjusted I noticed that flames curled along her red hair as well.

She looked at me with golden eyes. Pink lips parted as she moaned.

“Fuck me,” she asked.

My cock stirred but I ignored it. What the fuck was she doing here? I hadn’t summoned a flaming redhead. Even with my shitty record keeping I would remember that.

I followed the circle of light up to the window. A piece of glass dangled in front of the window. It was a circle with colored glass in the shape of a rune. I remembered baking it in my oven with a kit I bought at the hobby store.

“Stick your cock in me,” the redhead moaned. She got on her knees in front of me. Her hand never stopped stroking her sex. I noticed she stayed inside the circle of light.

I tried to remember why I had made the glass thing. What was it called? Oh yes, a sun-catcher.

Then I remembered.

It was from a book I found. The author was a Southern magician from the turn of the century by the flashy name of Dr. Pietro. His book was filled with the usual notes about spells, demons and favorite pie recipes but he had one artifact description that appealed to me. It was an item to “call down the wisdom of the sun.” It was a simple artifact and I gave it a try.

“Make me your whore,” the redhead moaned. She grabbed a pale breast and squeezed. Her flesh glowed with an internal fire. The burning smell increased.

I expected “calling down the wisdom of the sun” to be knowledge of stellar events or perhaps communication with the greater spheres. Apparently it was a naked redhead creature. That is what I mean by poor record keeping; Pietro could have at least mentioned her really lovely breasts.

More importantly, Dr. Pietro could have mentioned how long the spell takes. I am pretty sure I hung it over a year ago.

“Do whatever you want to me,” the redhead moaned. She let go of her plump breast. Flames flickered over the hand print on her breast. The flame faded with the print. She licked her fingers. Her tongue was very nimble.

My cock stirred but I stayed outside the circle. I didn’t know anything about her. The fire suggested that she might be some sort of elemental but fuck, I had never seen an elemental with dimples before.

I wondered how long she would be here. My guess was that she would be gone when the sun no longer came through the window. When would that be? Noon? Sooner? I really didn’t spend much time here.

“Use me,” she said. She turned around and bent over. Her pale ass was presented to me as she spread her legs. I watched sparks fall from her sex.

Touching her might burn me.

Not touching her would haunt me.

I reached through the circle. The sunlight was warm on my hand. The redhead arched her ass towards me. My fingers grazed her round ass.

Heat radiated from her.

I laid my palm against her ass. As expected, she was but it wasn’t unbearable. I squeezed her ass and saw sparks pop. The sparks landed on my skin and it felt like the kiss of a hot wind.

“Take me,” she moaned. She parted her sex lips and the burning smell increased. I realized now what was burning. It was her pussy.

I thought of a dozen incantations to protect myself and didn’t use one. I stepped into the circle and pulled down my pants.

“Oh yes, hurry!” the redhead moaned.

I grabbed her hips with both hands. A surge of heat went through me. My mouth dried. Her begging words rang within me.

“I’ll hurry when I want to,” I growled. I grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her back. She moaned louder as I climbed over her.

Sparks popped as I fell on top of her. I grabbed handfuls of her tits and they glowed like furnaces. My legs straddled her hips and heat embraced me.

I bent down to kiss her. She surrendered to my hungry kisses. Her lips burned but I kept kissing. Her tongue was a flaming snake that wrestled mine. Her breath was the mist of the sauna.

It may sound unpleasant but it was anything but. The heat was vital. Kissing her was like being warm for the first time in my life. I couldn’t stop.

The heat of the redhead did something else to me. It ignited a fire within me. It created a blaze of selfish desire and it consumed my mercy for fuel.

I pulled at her beautiful perfect tits and dug sparking gouges with my fingers. My hands slapped her tits as she moaned, writhed and burned. I bit down on her coal hot nipples until she screamed.

And whenever I stopped, the redhead would moan, “More!”

I sat up and grabbed her hair. Flames flared as I wound her hair in my hand and pulled her to her knees. I forced her head back as I bit painfully hard on her delicate neck. I felt the pulse of her blood beneath the skin and I felt the heat of the fire that flowed through her.

The redhead screamed at her rough treatment but when I stopped, she moaned, “More!”

I shoved her to the ground. My foot went to her neck and pinned her there. The heat of her neck on my foot was like standing on a hot vent in the middle of winter.

I slapped her ass. Sparks flew from where I struck her. She screamed as if I was setting her ass on fire. The irony amused me.

“More!” she cried.

My foot pressed harder on her neck. My hand slapped her ass with the fury of a man enraged. The repeating strikes of my hand changed her ass from pale white to smoldering orange to burning red to glowing blue and finally blistering white. The force of my blows made her ass jiggle, her buttocks clench and her legs kick.

Most delicious of all her reactions were her screaming moans.

We were at the edge of the circle of sunlight. I realized that we hadn’t moved; the sun had. My foot went off of her neck and I grabbed her ankles. I dragged her across the floor and flipped her onto her back.

The redhead spread her legs automatically. She looked up at me with the eyes glowing like the sun. The air shimmered with heat distortions.

“Fuck me!” she yelled.

This time I wanted to. The cruelty in me had nearly been exhausted. I dropped between her legs and grabbed my cock. Flames danced on her pussy lips.

I didn’t hesitate. My cock slipped into her and I climbed on top of her. Legs wrapped around me like searing brands.

She was hot inside. Too hot. It was burned and I felt my body catch fire. I would be ashes in seconds.

But I wasn’t. The heat remained but I adapted. The fire embraced me and we burned together.

I fucked her. It was a slow burn of thrusts and grinding. Her hips rolled with mine. Her pussy clenched with my throbbing cock. Our rhythm became the rhythm of the fire.

“Fuck me,” I moaned.

She stared at me with her glowing eyes. They pulsed with our thrusts. My eyes hurt to look at hers but I couldn’t look away.

Our pace quickened. No, it ignited. My cock and her pussy raced each other. Our moans turned into pants. We clawed at each other as melted into one another.

She came with a fiery flash.

I came and I felt sparks pass through my cock.

We kept fucking. Our limbs intertwined as our bodies merged into one burning husk.

She came and smoke poured from her hair.

I came again and fire filled my balls.

We slowed down and I noticed the circle had moved again. Half of the circle didn’t even exist any more. The sun was moving past the window and the sun-catcher.

We kept fucking. The flames in her hair dimmed. Sparks no longer flew from her breasts with each thrust. The glow of her eyes dimmed to merely blinding.

She came and the heat in her pussy flared.

I came again and I tasted ash on my tongue.

And then she was gone. The last of the direct sunlight left the room. I hit the bare ground and groaned.

There were scorch marks on the floor. The worse burn marks were where her pussy had dripped onto the floor. Smoke hung in the air.

I rolled onto my back. My cock was hot to the touch but luckily not cinder.

She was gone but the heat was still within me. I wondered if I would ever be cold again.

I thought that I should probably write all of this down.

Aug 262015

Darren was hunched over the counter. There was a four stitch tear in the panties he was working on. The smell of perfume wafted up from the panties.

He guided the needle in and out of the delicate fabric. The thread was a perfect match for the pink material. More difficult was the stitching. Darren had to duplicate the rather rare Xeres stitch that made up the panties. It was new to him and this was his third try.

The bell above the door rang. In walked a woman in a green blouse and black slacks. Her eyes were Asian and her black hair was a shimmering veil. Darren guessed that she was Murean.

“Is Mr. Jaque in?” the woman asked. Her voice was lyrical with a light lisp. She was definitely Murean.

“Mr. Jacque is at lunch,” Darren said. It was what Mr. Jacque claimed but he always came back flushed in the face and smelling of bananas. “Is there something I can help you with, Miss?”

“Mrs. Qwen,” the woman said she pulled off her blouse. A white bra held her lovely breasts. Darren’s practiced eye identified them as C cups. When the woman moved to unclasp her bra, Darren remembered his manners.

“There is a changing room over there,” he said.

Mrs. Qwen ignored him. She removed her bra and her plump breasts were freed. She laid the bra on the counter.

Darren picked it up. It was warm to the touch. There were no holes. The fabric was inexpensive.

“What can we do?” Darren asked.

“It is too loose,” Mrs. Qwen said. There was an economy to her speech. “I want it to grip me tighter. Can you do that?”

“Certainly,” Darren said. “We can adjust the frame and add wiring if you wish. How tight do you want it?”

“I’ll show you,” Mrs. Qwen said. “Come here.”

Darren rose without hesitation. He really should be ushering her to a changing room in case another client came in but he lacked the courage. Mr. Jaque always said to obey the clients. He decided to err on the side of obedience.

He came around the counter and Mrs. Qwen presented her back to him. A flowing tattoo of a swooping bird decorated her back. The talons looked exceedingly sharp.

Mrs. Qwen looked over her shoulder. “Give me your hands.”

Darren lifted his hands and she reached back for them. Her small fingers grabbed his wrists and pulled him forward. He felt her bottom press against his now growing erection. She brought his hands up to her breasts and his fingers curled around her flesh.

“Higher,” she said. “Lift them up more.”

Darren did. He supported the weight of her breasts in his hands.

“Curl your fingers,” she said. “Tighter. Tighter.”

He obeyed. Her flesh spilled between his fingers.

“Closer together,” she said. “Right there.”

Darren’s hands came together to her specifications.

“Can you make a bra that holds me like this?” Mrs. Qwen asked.

“Yes,” Darren said in a whisper. He wasn’t sure but he would try. Mr. Jaque would expect nothing less.

“Wait, I must test it,” Mrs. Qwen said.

Darren didn’t ask how. He held her breasts and worked hard to retain the shape of his fingers.

Mrs. Qwen reached down to her pants. Her arm came down over Darren’s arm and pinned it to her. He heard the sound of a zipper coming undone.

Darren’s heart raced. His eyes darted to the door. No one was coming through.

Mrs. Qwen reached into her pants. Her arm moved. The sound of something wet was being stroked. A new smell joined the smell of fabric and sweat.

Darren shuddered. “Stay still,” Mrs. Qwen hissed.

Darren didn’t answer but he tried to obey. The movement of her arm was jostling his own. He made subtle adjustments while maintaining his precise grip on her breasts.

He felt her nipples harden against his fingers.

Mrs. Qwen stroked faster. “A little higher,” she commanded.

Darren lifted her breasts a fraction.

Mrs. Qwen stroked harder. The wet sounds grew louder. Her breasts jiggled within his fingers.

Darren’s member throbbed against the confines of his pants. It pulsed against Mrs. Qwen’s plump bottom. She had to have noticed the pressure on her ass. Darren feared offending her but if he moved his erection away, he might disturb the gripping of her breasts.

Mrs. Qwen groaned. Her hips moved. Darren’s cock ached as it was grinded on.

“A little looser,” Mrs. Qwen said.

Darren’s fingers relaxed ever so slightly. The jiggling of her flesh increased in his hands.

Mrs. Qwen said nothing as she stroked faster. The bouncing of her flesh continued within his grip. Her ass rolled against Darren’s trapped cock.

Darren wondered if he could climax. He was close. It was so hot and tight within his pants. Her breasts were so soft and warm within his hands. A little more and he was sure that could come.

Mrs. Qwen suddenly stopped. She groaned and a shudder ran through her body.

“Yes, this will do,” she said.

She pushed his hands away and took a step forward. Darren quickly stepped behind the counter to hide the bulge within his pants.

“That is the fit I want,” Mrs. Qwen said. She pulled her blouse back on. Her bra remained on the counter.

“We will work on it right away,” Darren said.

“I will return at the end of the week,” Mrs. Qwen said. She turned and her breasts swung freely within her blouse. Out the door she went and the bell signaled her departure.

Darren let out a long sigh. Was what she asked for possible? How was he going to explain this to Mr. Jaque? More importantly, could he possibly remember how she wanted her bra to feel?

He closed his eyes. His fingers curled around the plump flesh he could still feel. His hands came together until they replicated her wishes. His arms lifted as he recalled the weight in his hands.

Yes, he could remember.

Aug 242015

I love going to movie theaters. Sure, tickets cost a lot, food costs even more and sometimes I really wish I could pause the movie but I still love going.  I love the giant screen and the way the sound surrounds you. I like that I can’t check my phone to look something up because the movie forces me to pay attention. I like that for a few hours I am cut off from the rest of the world and immersed in a story.

One thing I really love are the ads for the concession stands. Logically I know that the concessions account for 70% of the theater’s profits so of course they are going to get an advertisement but I enjoy the approach most theaters take. They don’t try to make you hungry or thirsty as much as they try to sell you on the idea that the snacks are part of what makes the movie good.

Regal cinemas have an advertisement where the screen shows you in a roller coaster. signs light up to tell you to turn off phones and shut the fuck up but with the same gentle sternness that a roller coaster asks you not to stand up and get decapitated. They’re not forcing you to be polite as much as they imply it is in your best interest.

Then once you have that thrill park ride mentality, the screens lurches and speeds down a track. Popcorn explodes across the screen. Candy flies every where. Soda flows like a waterfall beside the track. This reinforces the idea of hey, you could just sit there and eat the food you smuggled in your purse but the REAL fun is eating candy out of a box the size of a paperback.

I understand the manipulation going on but I appreciate it because it is based on the idea that you being here are the theater is an event worth treasuring. The movie might suck but even a sucky movie is a fond memory because you saw it on the big screen. Whether you go to the concessions or not, the fact that you are here is a big deal.

Which is something I would like to bring to books. I love to read and when I put out an ebook, it is a pretty big freaking deal to me. I read a lot of ebooks and some of them have the same care and crafting as a long blog post. They don’t feel special to me. That might be just because I am jaded and read too much porn. I don’t know.

But maybe a big event feel isn’t the way to go. Perhaps shooting for an intimate feeling would be better.

A page reminding the user to get their personal masturbation tools ready.

A page suggesting they try Von Madd vibrators to aid in their reading experience.

A page encouraging readers to strip down now.

A page advising readers to prepare aftercare items now.

I’m not sure. It is something I plan to think about.

Aug 212015

About three years ago I wrote a novella about a ghost investigation team filming their adventure at a haunted brothel. Sex happens. Ghosts happen. Lots of bondage and domination happens. I finished it and wasn’t crazy about it so I put it away to come back to it later.

About two years ago I came back to the story and worked on it. I liked it a bit more but had other projects I wanted to finish.

About a year ago, I came back to the story and did some more changes and really liked it. But then broken legs and moving happened.

Now Halloween is coming and you know what? I would really like to exorcise this story and get it out on Kindle.

My usual proofer went to work on it and her computer died.

The obvious conclusion of all this is that the story is haunted. Some would say CURSED.

So I turn to you, gentle reader and brave adventurer. I need a brave volunteer to download this CURSED story, read it, scream at the typos, bad sentence structure and curious anomalies and than send it back.

Hopefully your sanity will survive. Hopefully things will not break down in your house. Hopefully you won’t hear the moans of the damned.


As a reward for this task, I will give you any of my ebooks for free. At this point, I am willing to give you any and all of my ebooks.

If interested, please use the contact link at the top of this page.