Feb 102016
 

Darren walked out of the store. Mr. Jacque locked the door behind him. Darren turned to wave at his boss but the blinds had already been pulled down.

The young man shrugged. His boss was being paranoid. It was Saint Valen’s Day. Today women all over the world reenacted the passion of Saint Valen’s long denied lover. Mr. Jacque had felt it necessary to close early for the day. That was silly. As long as a man doesn’t wear red, the women left him alone.

Darren frowned. That was certainly true in Darren’s hometown, but this was Atlantica. People do things differently in the big city.

A limousine pulled onto the street. Darren watched in awe. He had never seen such a vehicle in person before. It seem to stretch forever and the black of the car was almost reflective.

It pulled close to Darren and a window rolled down. A smiling woman with perfect blonde hair leaned out. Diamonds sparkled from her ears. There was something odd about her cheeks. They were high and too prominent.

“Excuse me,” the woman said. Her enunciation was perfect. He suspected that she was from the better side of the city, like Witch Hills or Staghead.

“Yes ma’am?” Darren said. He stepped closer to the window. What could such a high class woman want with him?

“We appear to be lost,” the woman said. “Do you know the way to the Wolf Theater?”

“Of course,” Darren said. He had only lived in the city for less than a year and he had the newcomer’s pride of actually knowing where something was. “It is down this street, about four blocks away.”

“Come closer, please,” the woman said. “I can’t quite hear you. I am not used to yelling in the street,”

Darren blushed. Of course she wasn’t! He should have known better. He stepped up to the window and bent down so she could hear him better.

“You just go down thi-aaahhh!”

She lunged for him and grabbed him by his shirt collar. Powerful hands lined with rings pulled him into the car. Another hand grabbed his head and pulled cruelly. Pain blossomed on his scalp and Darren found himself trying his best to follow the painful grip of his hair. He climbed into the car through the window as more hands grabbed his arms and pulled.

Darren was inside the limousine. He was stretched out across the laps of three women. He looked up at the smiling face of a dark woman with sun bright blonde hair. An expansive chest blocked part of his view. He unconsciously judged them to be J cups. She was the one holding his hair and her sharp nails scraped his scalp.

“Look what Betty caught us for Saint Valen’s Day!” the dark woman said.

“I’m not wearing red!” Darren cried.

All three women cackled. Their laughter filled the limousine.

“You will be,” the woman in the middle said. She was pale and long dark brown hair. Her lips were too large and her eyes were too wide.

The limousine started to move. The pale woman pulled off his belt. The dark woman grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his head. The blonde woman pulled his shoes off. The pale woman and the blonde woman worked together to pull his pants completely off. Before he could kick free, he felt the belt wrap around his ankles and cinch tight.

“Stop!” Darren yelled. This wasn’t right! He wasn’t wearing red! They had no right to do this!

The dark woman let go of his hair and clamped her hand over his mouth. He kept trying to scream when her thumb pinched his nose. Darren’s eyes bulged and he stopped trying to yell. The dark woman mercifully released his nose.

“Let’s see what the boy is hiding,” the blonde said.

The pale woman pointed at his crotch. “Look at that! I think he’s lying about wanting us to stop!”

The women laughed and Darren blushed. His cock was hard and forming a tent inside his boxers. The pale woman hooked her fingers into his boxers and pulled. The cheap material easily tore and she ripped his underwear from his body.

“His head is certainly red,” the dark woman said.

The cackled again.

“Are you going to suck him?” the blonde asked.

The pale woman snorted. “This nobody? If we had picked him up in Staghead, I might have. This is just some loser from midtown.”

“Still, it is a nice cock,” the blonde said. She grabbed the tip of his cock and gave him a stroke. Darren shuddered and the women laughed. Stretched out across their laps, they were aware of every movement he made.

“Then you suck him,” the pale woman said.

The blonde laughed. “I only suck for diamonds or surgery. She ran her thumb over Darren’s sensitive cock.

“When I was younger,” the dark woman said, “I would make my Saint Valen’s men jerk themselves off while I sat on their faces.”

“Do you want to do that now?” the pale woman asked. She kept a hold on Darren’s cock and pumped it once.

Darren’s back arched and his groan could be heard under the dark woman’s hand.

“No, I’ll wait until we get a real man,” the dark woman said. “I’m worry I might kill this boy if I sit on him.”

Darren laid helpless on their laps. His arm hurt from where the dark woman had it pinned. An ache formed in his ankles from where the blonde woman had bound them. He breathed hard through his nose because his mouth was sealed.

The pale woman licked her hand. “Then I shall jerk him off,” she said.

Wet fingers wrapped around Darren’s cock. He groaned and shuddered as the woman cackled. He was at the mercy of wealthy women and in his short time with them, he understood that was no mercy at all.

The pale woman stroked his cock. A skill grip slid up and down his slick member. Expensive rings rubbed against the veins of his flesh.

The blonde woman reached across and he felt nails touch his balls. He tensed as she pulled and tugged on his sensitive sack. Nails pinched briefly before dragging across to a new spot on his scrotum.

The dark woman released his mouth but before he could gasp for air, she rolled his face towards her giant breast. Her blouse prevented him from touching her skin but the massive amount of flesh sealed around his face. He felt the warmth radiating from her breast and he was teased by softness that was being withheld from his hungry mouth.

The pale woman stroked faster. There was no technique. There was no teasing escalation. This was clinical. This was an uncaring hand abusing his sexual response.

Darren was so turned on. His balls ached with release despite the distraction of pinches. He moaned into the mountain of flesh that smothered him. The women cackled and mocked his struggles while his cock was continuously tugged and stroked.

He climaxed. The women laughed as his seed erupted.

“Such a large amount!” the blonde said.

“He must never get laid,” the dark woman said.

“He has made an awful mess!” the pale woman said.

The pale woman kept tugging on his cock. Darren squirmed as his sensitive cock was milked dry. He tried to stop her but the dark woman twisted his arm and pulled him tighter into her smothering breast.

“Hand me his pants,” the pale woman said.

“Make sure you don’t get any on the car seat,” the blonde said.

Darren felt the rough material of his pants press against his crotch. Multiple hands scrubbed at his tender flesh. They cared nothing for his comfort as they rubbed and dried his cock.

The car came to a stop. The car door by his head opened. He heard the busy street outside.

“Now!” the dark woman said and all three women lifted Darren up and threw him out the door. He landed hard on his shoulders and they pushed his feet out of the car.

“Give him his wallet,” the pale woman said. “We’re not thieves!”

Darren’s wallet thudded beside him. He rolled over on the hard sidewalk and got on his knees. His feet were still bound so he removed the belt. He grabbed his wallet and instinctively tried to put in his pants that weren’t there.

The door slammed and the limousine took off.

Darren rose to his feet. He held onto his belt and wallet as he tried to cover his crotch. The sidewalk bit at his bare feet. People walked past him and avoided looking at him.

He recognized where he was. He couldn’t take the bus like this. It was going to be a long walk back to his apartment.

Next Saint Valen’s Day, Darren would be more careful.

  4 Responses to “Fiction: St. Valen’s Day”

  1. A lovely tale of warning. Poor Darren, he should have asked more questions coming up. Of course, the city should have given warnings themselves. But, still hot as fuck.

  2. I’m dying… Staghead… Wolf Theater… Bwahahahahahahaha…

    (Although this tradition may be more enjoyable than my typical commute.)

    • I worried that Staghead was too on the nose but then realized no one outside of Atlanta would even blink twice at it.

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