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The Hero

By: hotwords229



Ally sat at her desk feeling horrible. She came out of the meeting with her boss having not only failed at getting the promotion, but also received an insulting raise. Tina saw her looking glum and knew right away what had happened.

"Don't let it get you down." Tina said. "You know you're going to quit soon anyway, why worry about it?"

"Because I deserve better than this. And I know I'm going to start my new job and the same damn thing will happen there." Ally responded.

"So you're definitely taking the new job now, right?"

"I don't know. I just don't know anymore. Why can't life be easier? Why can't it be like in the movies where everything works out the way it is meant to?" Ally knew she was acting like a little kid, but she didn't care.

"What kind of movie do you want it to be?" Tina asked.

"A hard-core porno!" Ally said and they both laughed. 

"And let me guess who your co-star would be." Tina said as she looked up. Ally followed her gaze and they both landed on Mark. He was across the way staring some paperwork. They watched him as he read quietly to himself. 

Mark was the object of Ally's lust but she was too shy to talk to him. Mark's a really nice guy that everyone likes and for some reason he is single. Tina always tried to get Ally to approach him, but Ally always came up with an excuse not to.

"I don't think he would do a porno with me" Ally said. "He is more the action-adventure type. A stalwart hero looking for a damsel in distress."

"Well you're a damsel and you're certainly distressed" Tina nudged her. "Go talk to him, he always makes you laugh"

"He makes me laugh when you talk to him, I can never think of anything to say. Besides, I'm sick of being the damsel. I want to be the hero! No, even better, I want to be the villain! Yeah, I want to terrorize the city and make the men of this town suffer for not going out with me, for going out with the other girl and for not realizing that I can be hot too!" Ally snickered.

"Now you're talking" Tina laughed at her friend.

Ally took in a deep breath and settled into depression again. "But it will never happen. Who am I kidding? I suck."

Tina looked at her friend and wanted to help. A thought crossed her mind. "Come over to my place tonight. We'll have margaritas and get drunk and feel better. Maybe I can even think of some way to cheer you up". Tina glanced over at Mark. She noticed he had been checking them out then he quickly looked away.

Tina's devilish smile grew.

Later that night, Ally arrived at Tina's house. Tina met her at the door and grabbed her inside.

"I have the greatest surprise for you, you are NEVER going to believe this. I am the best friend you have ever had!" Tina giggled.

"What? What did you do?" Ally grew a little happier.

"Okay, you have to trust me like you've never trusted anyone before. Do not question me, just do as I say. Drink this" Tina said as she handed Ally a Margarita.

"Okay" Ally said a little apprehensively.

The two girls drank to the point of feeling no pain and as many times as Ally asked what the surprise was, Tina refused to tell her. Tina also kept checking the clock. At about 8:15PM Tina jumped up and handed a bag to Ally.

"Here, this is your costume. Go put it on and do it fast we're almost out of time. You said you wanted to be a Super-Villain, well this is your chance. My surprise to you is that I am going to give you the chance to get back at all the men who ignored you and show them what a hot seductress you are." Tina said to her friend in all seriousness. 

She pulled out a video camera. "We, you and I, are going to put you in the movies. Your role is that of a hot Catwoman-like villain. The hero has been ignoring you for the longest time and now it's time to get back at him.

Ally sat there dumbfounded. Then she burst out laughing. "What the hell are you talking about?" Ally looked at the skin-tight black outfit with a little mask and then looked back at Tina. Tina pulled her clothes off and underneath she was wearing a pink spandex outfit. She put her mask on and pushed Ally into the bathroom.

"Go on, hurry up. You have to trust me"

Ally went into the bathroom and changed. She came out and made a Catwoman-like growl.

"You look great, Ally. You are so much hotter than you let anybody ever see." Tina said. She pulled Ally over to her and they both looked in a mirror. The two ladies looked so sexy it was unbelievable and they looked at each other's bodies and felt a little hot and bothered.

"We're not going to go lesbo or anything are we?" Ally asked.

"Nope. Better."

Tina picked up the camera and focused on Ally.

"You are not showing this to anybody, Tina I'm serious." Ally said.

"This tape is only for you, and sometimes me. Now listen, here is the scene—you are a super-villain and I am your side-kick. The hero has been a total bore by doing the Boy Scout routine and you are sick of it. We have set a trap for him and lured him to our secret hideout. Come here." Tina told her as she led Ally into the other room after first unlocking the front door.

Ally was shocked at what she saw. Tina had cleared out the room and placed a large inflatable kiddie pool in the middle of it. The pool was half filled with what looked like baby oil. Tina had replaced the light bulbs with black-light bulbs to give the room a strange look.

"What is this, baby-oil?" Ally looked at Tina.

"No, it is a paralyzing gel that once a person gets it on them they can't move until we wash it off. Luckily we both drank the formula that will make us immune to its effects. We are going to use this goo to trap the hero. When he tries to capture us we'll push him in and he will be ours to do with as we please!"

"What the hell is going on, Tina? Have you lost your mind?" Ally asked.

"Alright, from this point on no more questions. You are the villain you always wanted to be, now go with it! This is your chance to do what you always dream about!"

They heard the front door open. Ally froze, she didn't want anyone to see her like this. Tina ran to the corner of the room and hid in the shadows keeping the camera on Ally. "Hide!" she whispered.

Ally hid in the opposite corner. The door to the room slowly opened and the hero walked in. Ally stomach dropped when she saw Mark walk in with a small black mask across his face and a green and yellow spandex costume on. Tina had outdone herself this time. His costume looked ridiculous, but Mark filled it out well. Ally was looking at his ass and how round it was when he quickly pivoted and she saw his front. A shiver ran down her back as she looked at Mark under the top light, it accented his muscles beautifully and she noticed a nice protrusion in his crotch. 

Ally was feeling very nervous now, unsure of what was expected of her. For a moment she didn't do anything. She was still hiding. Then it finally occurred to her that this was all a set-up for her. Somehow Tina had talked Mark into this crazy scheme to cheer her up and Ally felt her eyes welling up thinking how they both went through this much trouble for her. 

Mark made his way to the pool and leaned over it sticking his hand in the goo. His back was to Ally now and she stood staring at his ass before looking over at Tina who was motioning for her to make a move.

Ally was overcome with excitement. Lust poured through her body like never before. She wanted Mark and here he was waiting for her to fulfill her most perverted fantasy on him. Her nipples were pressing hard against her tight costume and she felt a deep burning between her thighs.

She rushed forward and thrust Mark into the pool. He fell in and slid around on his back. Tina rushed out of the shadows and focused the camera on him. Ally stood motionless for a moment looking down at Mark on his back with his suit covered in goo. He struggled against the goo, but it was no use. He acted like he was stuck to the bottom of the pool with his arms at his sides.

"I should have known it was you!" he proclaimed in a most heroic voice.

"We've got you now Boy Scout! And when we finish with you, you'll be a little less wholesome, right?" Tina yelled and looked at Ally.

Ally smiled for the last time, then fell totally into character.

"Such a strapping young hero" she said as she grabbed his arm. Mark struggled against the goo but it was no use. She felt his arm flex and realized how powerful this man really was. Ally slid her hand across his face, her fingers made their way down his neck and then across his chest. She rubbed his nipple and saw it harden. Ally cupped a bunch of the goo and rubbed it across his chest. Then she really got into it and started splashing it all over him, until he was covered with the stuff. His spandex covered body glistened with shiny wetness under the lights. Ally continued to rub her hands all over his chest, arms, legs, and stomach. Mark had a much better physique than she realized. She noticed that the bulge in his costume had grown quite a lot, but wasn't at full mast yet. She was really enjoying making him feel this way.

Her heart was in her throat and her loins burned for him. Ally's breathing became faster and faster to where she thought she might pass out. She leaned in with her mouth only an inch away from his. Mark's eyes stared into hers with excitement and wonder. She moved forward more and lightly kissed his forehead. She rubbed her hand on both sides of his face and stared into his eyes and for the first time she truly felt he might have feelings for her after all.

"The hero always humiliates us, you know. Maybe its time we humiliated him." Tina said almost breathlessly. "He can't move, he can't fight back and he can't stop us this time."

Ally looked up at her sidekick and wondered if she meant what it sounded like she meant.

Tina looked back at her while holding the camera on Mark and gave a simple command: "Strip him . . . NUDE!"

Ally noticed Mark's bulge surged at that and she blushed.

Ally couldn't believe it, she wondered if this was really happening. Before she knew it she was lifting Mark's torso out of the goo (with his help, of course) and she pulled the back of his costume open. She dropped him down on his back and pealed the costume down to his bellybutton. His skin was shining in the light and Ally slid her hands all over his bare torso. Mark moaned a little as she did this. Her hands slipped down his abs and he shuddered—he was totally into this.

She suddenly realized she was leaning over his face and her boobs were hanging right in front of him, but she didn't care. Ally repositioned herself at his feet and Tina ran to his head making sure to never take the camera off his body. Ally paused and realized this was the moment she had dreamed of so many lonely nights. Mark was looking down at her with a smile on his face. The goo dripped off his chest as the bulge in his costume was now pulsating; he was as excited about this as she was.

She grabbed underneath the costume and pulled it off his butt. Then she yanked the costume from his glistening body hard. Mark's penis whipped up and slapped right onto his stomach. Ally pulled the wet costume away and dropped it at the bottom of the pool. She moved over to his midsection and grabbed his dick. Mark let out a gasp of extreme pleasure as she stroked him a few times.

Tina was laughing this whole time, but only videotaped it; she never joined in the groping.

Ally's hands explored Mark's nude body; she leaned in to kiss him on the mouth. Their lips locked onto each other in the softest way she could imagine. He slipped his tongue into her mouth very gently and she sucked on it for a moment. Her hand found his penis again and started stroking wildly. Mark couldn't take this. He laughed. His breath began getting heavier and Ally looked down at his stomach as it went in and out faster and faster. She looked down at the way the goo glimmered off his cock and how his balls began to recede—this was it, he was getting closer. She stroked him harder and faster until he let out a gasp and relaxed. His penis fired his own goo into the air like a fountain and his body went limp.

The three of them sat there laughing. The whole thing was so ridiculous and they knew it, but what a fun time it was.

Ally began to feel a little disappointed it was over when Mark lunged for her. His strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her into the pool. Mark kneeled outside the pool now and held her down on her back. Ally was suddenly very nervous again, but thrilled like she had never been thrilled before.

Mark leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, "My turn now—the hero always wins."

"Then I must be the hero." Ally said as she smiled back at him.

Tina dropped the camera and watched as Mark's hands rubbed Ally's perky little breasts. His hands groped all over her entire body. Mark was not shy and he was intent on giving her the pleasure she had given him. He began to pull Ally's costume off and had almost exposed her shining boobs when Tina decided to give them their privacy. She walked to the door and looked back. She saw Mark's muscular nude wet back as he stripped Ally naked. He leaned forward and kissed her hard on the mouth as his hand found its way down past her bellybutton. 

Tina sighed and closed the door on them. She grabbed another drink and wondered if her hero would ever come for her.

THE END.

The Hero



I was thirteen years old, a skinny guy in 7th grade, doing okay in school but more interested in soccer and track than academics. Four of us were walking home from school about three in the afternoon and one by one we gradually veered off and headed to our own home. I was within a block from home when I heard a whimpering noise. I figured a dog or cat must be hurt. It was coming from behind a big bush. Whoever built all the homes in my neighborhood put a big wall around the whole place. A nice wall, cement block but fancier. There were rocks through it, sort of a rough finish. And at several places there was an indentation or nook that would have a tree or bush in it. This was one of those niches. I went around behind the bush, pushing it out of the way, to see what was hurt and making the sobbing noise.

It was a girl. A young girl, maybe my age. She was curled up tight, holding herself and whimpering, seemed as scared as anything. "What's wrong?" I asked.

She never even looked at me, held herself tight and sobbed some more. "Bad people are after me," she said really quietly.

Well, thirteen is young but old enough to know something. This girl is really scared, maybe even hurt, and needed help. So I sat down next to her, both of us behind the bush where nobody would see us. "I can help," I said, "I just live a block from here. We can go there." She didn't even look at me, just held herself tight and made little noises. "What kind of bad people?" I asked.

"They came in my bedroom when I was asleep," she said and turned her head to look at me. "They grabbed me and taped my mouth and tied me up and carried me out the window. I was in the trunk of a car and then they carried me into a house and tied me to a chair. I figured I was going to die or something. I was there a long time, more than a day. I worked on the ropes and realized I could get loose. So when I was alone and I knew at least one of them was gone, I got loose, climbed out the window and ran until I found this place and hid. I think I've been here for hours."

I put my arm around her and she came uncurled some and almost jumped on me and put her arms around me and held on tight. "Just stay here with me," she said, "I know they're looking for me."

We held each other for a while. "Sooner or later we need to get out of here and to my house where you'll be safe."

"But I can't let them see me and catch me again. I just can't!"

I just held her for awhile. Her whole body was shaking. I tried to think. "When I can, I can get up and go out and look and see. When there's no one in sight and no cars going by, we can climb this wall and drop down the other side in a couple seconds, real quick. I've climbed it a lot. It's easy, just use the rocks where they stick out."

"Don't go, stay with me."

"I'm staying. Hey watch me for a moment." I got her off me, stood up and climbed up the wall. It's only about six feet tall, not hard to do, just get two or three places to grab hold of. I got to the top and looked down, she was watching me. I climbed back down and sat next to her. She hugged me again. "Think you can do that? If you could untie yourself you ought to be able to climb the wall." She nodded a yes. I stood up and worked around the bush. The street was quiet, no one in sight, no cars. I pushed back behind the bush. "Now's the time, stand up and climb up and I'll follow." She did it. She got a foot up on a rock and pushed up and grabbed another one. I reached up and pushed on her butt when she moved her foot up and found another rock. I could see she had hold of the top of the wall so I climbed up next to her and in another couple seconds we both went over the top of the wall and dropped down on someone's yard.

"Come on," I said and grabbed her hand and started to run, she came along . I think she could run even faster than me. We only had to get by a half dozen houses to get to mine. We ran around back, I took out my key and opened the door and we both ducked inside and I closed the door behind us. "Made it!" I exclaimed. She put her arms around me and held me close and just held on. It was sort of weird. I realized that she was still scared and probably a little traumatized from everything. So I put my arms around her and we just stood there holding each other for several minutes. It seemed a long time.

Now what should I do? "Can I call your parents? Do you know your home phone number?"

She loosened her hold a little. "Yes," she said. She paused a long time but I could tell she was thinking. "Could we just stay here for a little while? Make sure those people aren't around anywhere?

"Sure. But you're safe here. My sister is in high school, at cheerleader practice and won't be home for a couple hours and my parents are both at work and won't be home for a couple hours, either. So we can just stay here as long as you want." 

Talking to her, we parted a little bit and I realized she had almost nothing on. She had on some thin, brief nighty that was both short and also ripped a little. She was almost naked. I also realized her bare feet were dirty and maybe cut a little and she had some red marks on her arms. "I can find some clothes that you can put on," I tell her,"and maybe we can clean your feet and put something on the cuts."

She grabbed me tight again and said, "Okay, just don't leave me." I pushed her off a little and took her hand and started leading her. The whole house is only one floor. I also began to realize that she must be around my age and is maybe three or four inches shorter than me, She's also fairly thin and actually very nice looking. I'd never been on a date but if I was going to, I would probably be happy to ask her.

In my bedroom I looked through some drawers and found an old T-shirt and old sweat pants that were too small for me but should fit her. "See if you can fit in these," I said and hand them to her. She surprised me. She pulls off her nighty and stands there naked. I'd never seen a girl naked before. Well, I didn't see this one long, either, because she stepped into the sweat pants quickly and then put the T-shirt on. "It's not perfect," I tell her, "but better than that night shirt. You look very good." She grinned.

Now, I was thirteen. I had probably had some beginning thoughts of sex by then but I remember that while I was old enough to know she was a girl and all that, right at the time I had no thoughts of sex. I was only interested in calming her and making her feel better. I took her to the bathroom, looked through the medicine cabinet and found some antibacterial cream. I had her sit on the edge of the tub, started some hot water running and had her wash her feet. She dried them and then I smeared some of the cream over the little cuts. By then I knew her name was Dana and she knew mine was Brian.

We went back to the living room. She pretty much kept hold of me a lot. Then I dialed the number she gave me. A man answered and I asked if I could speak to Dana's mother. The woman who answered seemed out of breath. "Hi," I said, "My name is Brian and on my way home from school I found Dana hiding behind a bush and I've brought her to my house where you can come and pick her up."

I could hear clicks and she asked for the address. I learned later that I was actually talking to a couple police and being recorded. And I doubt if it was more than five minutes and a police car was out front and a cop was ringing my doorbell. Eventually her parents were there plus six cops and even an FBI guy. Interesting, through everything that happened for the next hour or so, Dana seemed to keep hold of me or at least touch me. She described as best she could where she had been held. From her description, I was pretty sure I even knew the exact house. It was older, just four or five blocks away and had been empty. The older lady that lived in it had died.

While we were still talking and my sister and then my parents came home to the whole big mob, the police went and actually caught two guys that were still at the old house. They had apparently broken in and eventually we all even saw where Dana had been tied up and the window she got out of. They ended up being tried and convicted and sent to prison for a long time.

The newspapers and TV got hold of the story, of course. It was a hectic couple weeks and I was a hero for a short while. Dana's family had my family over to visit. It was obvious that her family had money like I'd never even dreamed about. Not just her Dad earning good money but tons of it. No wonder those guys decided to kidnap Dana, they might have managed to get millions for her.

And then things cooled down, back to almost normal. I got a call from Dana about a week later. We talked for maybe a half hour. She was easy to talk to. She would call about once a week that way. Then once she suggested we go do something, have an ice cream cone or take a walk or something. She was driven to my house and we went to the mall. The guy driving was a bodyguard and wherever we went, he followed. I understood why. I mean, her family had plenty of money so why not make sure she's safe. For about a year, we talked on the phone regularly and every month or so she'd get driven to me and we'd go do something together. When we were together, she touched me almost constantly, one way or another. even hug me. Even to a kid it was obvious I had a place in her mind of being her hero or something. My sister once said, "Brian your girl friend is on the phone" and after Dana and I talked I said to Sis that if Dana is my girl friend I probably couldn't do better. I mean, Dana is really pretty, blond and blue eyed, and we got along great.

By the time we were in high school and I could drive a car, she would call and I would see her about every week. She developed perfectly, with a terrific body, pretty face, and we got along really well. She would still hug me and keep a hand on me, touching almost all the time we were together. She started kissing me goodbye when I took her back home. Obviously her parents knew about this for at least one reason -- a body guard, often a couple, were somewhere in the background everywhere we went. They were nice about it but we never got out of their sight. And, honestly, I never tried to ditch them, it felt secure in a strange way.

I graduated from high school and started at the local community college with plans to transfer to one of the Cal State campuses after two years. By then, Dana was a senior in high school and after another of our dates we seriously kissed. She asked me once if I thought she was sexy. I was honest and said, "Dana you're beautiful with the kind of body guys dream about. You're as sexy as possible." That date and the next few she ended up all over me and things got fairly hot. She told me that she sleeps in that old T-shirt I gave her the day I found her, that it makes her think I'm there helping save her. I began to be concerned about her family and how wealthy they were and how I fit into all that. I mean, I was doing o.k. I still played soccer, was in good shape. I was making decent grades, would probably end up with a good enough job eventually. But I was definitely not from the same social strata. Yet her parents had to know that we were dating fairly seriously.

Dana graduated from high school a year after me. By then she was eighteen, me nineteen, and she wanted me to take her to her senior prom just before graduation. She was absolutely beautiful. A gorgeous white dress, sort of plain with no shoulder straps, just held up by what sure looked like terrific breasts. I had a rented tux. The prom was at a big hotel and had a real band playing for dancing. I had a great time and I'm sure she did, too. She then told me she had a room for the night in the hotel and wanted me to go with her to it, so I did. She knocked on the room door and one of the body guards I recognized opened the door and said the room was clear. He then stepped out and we went in and closed and locked the door behind us. I bet he stayed at the door, guarding us.

It became obvious that none of this was accidental. She held me close and we kissed, really kissed, swapping tongues. "Brian, I've waited years for this," she said as we held each other. "We're both finally going to lose our virginity and I want it all to be the greatest experience possible. Ever since you saw me naked that day, I've known you liked me and I think it's time you saw me naked again. And I see you."

What happened next was absolutely the greatest event of my life. We both got naked pretty quick, her even faster than me, I was looking at her perfect body, full breasts with her nipples seeming to look at me like eyeballs, gorgeous legs, hair at the top of her legs -- blond but a little darker than the hair on her head. I guess I was entranced, staring, and while I did she stepped close and wrapped her hand around my cock.

"I've been watching everything sexy on the net for years and I've been dreaming about getting at this," she said as she knelt down to get a closer look. "You have a gorgeous cock, Brian, even bigger and sexier than I fantasized about." She held it and kissed it, then licked back and forth on it. For awhile, it was almost like she was playing with it, kissing and licking and moving it around and staring at it. "I've watched girls doing this on the 'net and now I've got yours all to myself," she said, glancing up at me. Then she got her mouth around the head and started swallowing it, sucking on it and licking inside her mouth. I could feel it hit the back of her throat and she made a little gagging sound. She pulled her head back and looked at it again, smiling, and looked up at me. "This is even sexier than I dreamed about," she said and then took me back into her mouth.

I'm surprised that I lasted as long as I did, I'd sure never felt anything as arousing in my life. She held me in her mouth and sucked, then started sliding her lips back and forth, moving her hand sort of ahead of her mouth, sucking me and sort of jerking me off at the same time. I could hear the slurps as she moved her lips around. It felt as if she was humming, enjoying what she was doing. And then I shot off. I couldn't control it at all. I was fully inside her mouth so my load had to be down her throat or in her mouth. She jerked her head back for a moment, her eyes flicked up at me and she got another shot of my cum on her chin. She quickly grabbed my cock again with her mouth and the rest of what I shot off went into her mouth.

She wiped the cum off her chin and stuck her fingers in her mouth to lick it off. "That was the sexiest thing ever," she says as she stands up and puts her arms around me. I hold her and kiss her. We're in the bedroom so I sort of back her up a couple steps until I can get her to sit on the bed. I kneel down facing her, between her legs, hold her and kiss her more, then move my hands and face down to her breasts. To me, they are the most beautiful, sexy breasts possible. Full and almost pink. Her nipples start off larger than I imagined but ended up shrinking and getting harder as I kissed and sucked on them. 

I kept interrupting myself to tell her how gorgeous she is and what a perfect body she has and eventually kissed down across her stomach. I didn't know what I was doing but I wanted to do everything possible with her and I'd seen others doing this enough on the 'net that I just tried to do what I thought they had been doing. She spread her legs, wider than I thought it was possible for legs to spread, and there was her pussy. Pink, dark pink, shapes that I knew were her lips. Dark blond hair in a thatch, mostly above those lips but some down each side. I used my fingers to pull her open and inside it was even pinker, red even, and glistening in the light. I leaned in and licked inside her.

She had her hands on my head and was moaning. I licked up and down, feeling with my tongue to find out the shape and feel of her pussy. I got a hair or two in my mouth and stopped for a second to get them out. "She looked down and said, "Don't stop, this is the greatest feeling ever." I knew I hit her clit when she made a little yell in the midst of her moans. I got a hand up under my chin and pushed a finger into her while I licked back and forth on what must be her clit. The little yell turned into louder yells. I slid my finger in and out and used my lips to try and suck on her clit. It ran though my mind that the bodyguard might come storming in, she was yelling so much but he never did. I guess he could tell the difference between hurt and sex yells. I had no idea what I was doing but I just kept doing it, finger fucking her and licking and sucking on her clit, licking around a little also. She was pushing my head into her and yelling bloody murder as she started putting out some fluid, her hips jumping. I sucked up everything she put out and she started pulling on my hair. I figured she was telling me to stop so I sat back and looked up at her.

"Brian, that was the best experience I've ever had. Now put it in me. Let me feel you in me." I straightened up a little, getting my cock at the right height, held it and rubbed it back and forth on her pussy a little and then pushed with my hips to get it started into her. At first, I was afraid I'd hurt her. I was almost hurting me, trying to push inside her. "Go ahead," she said and I pushed some more. It felt almost like my foreskin would get pulled off and I looked at her. She had her eyes closed but said, "Don't stop, fuck me." So I kept pushing and was finally all the way in her. 

It was a little awkward, kneeling on the floor. I got my hands under her butt and lifted a little and raised up on my legs, still pushing into her with my cock. She laid back on the bed, her hips turned up some so that I could push in and out of her easily. So I did. My cock was in this really tight, warm, moist tunnel. It was tight enough to make movement a little difficult but I had seen this often enough on the 'net that I did what I'd seen and started moving in and out of her faster. Her yells had stopped as I first started into her but now they came back. No words, just grunts and noises.

She really screamed and her insides went into a spasm or something, grabbing me so tight I could hardly keep moving inside her. It had been building for awhile, I could feel it, and her grabbing me like that triggered me and I started shooting off inside her. She wrapped her legs up around me, her heels on my lower back. She looked at me and grinned and I leaned down a little and kissed her. Her arms and legs are up around me, my arms are under her, holding her. My cock is inside her, our stomachs are pressed together. We're both perspiring a little. It feels as if we might be glued together. I kiss her again.

"We can do that again as often as possible," she says. We both grin and slowly start peeling apart. She slides further back on the bed and I lay next to her. She rolls a little to get partly on me, her leg over mine. I can feel our stuff leaking out onto my thigh. We hold each other and kiss. "I guess we can take a shower now," she says.

Her body is against me, we have our arms around each other, "I love you," I tell her. Until I said it, I don't think I realized that I did.

We kiss some more. "I've loved you ever since you saved me, I think," she said. " But, yeah, this love is the best ever. I can't imagine anyone, ever, has felt like I do right now. This is what life is supposed to be."

We did get to the shower, washing each other but mostly caressing and feeling and getting aroused by every part of each other's bodies. Dana tells me this is the second time in her life she's been naked with a boy and she's never forgotten that first time. She could tell, she said, that I was looking at her like I knew I liked her as a girl and not just someone I saved. She knew we would be just like this eventually even back then. She then had me in her mouth again. It's obvious that she likes that. I think she could suck on and play with my cock for hours if I could hold off cumming for that long. She seems to enjoy changing around how she attacks and tastes it. And when I cum, she seems to like that, too, but I don't think that's her aim. I think her aim is to just enjoy having a good, erect cock for herself.




The Hero



I did the same for her, washing, rinsing, feeling and kissing almost every inch of her body. She has a wonderful full, firm ass and I let her know how much I like it. She ended with one leg over my shoulder as I licked and sucked on her pussy until she came. I think her pussy is beautiful and I love getting my mouth and fingers to it. But, honestly, I want to get her aroused, make her cum. I wouldn't want to lick it for hours at a time like she might like doing with my cock. Getting her turned on is the main intent, not me enjoying myself. But I want to do whatever she enjoys just as she seems to want to do whatever I enjoy.

Back on the bed we got very little if any sleep that night. We worked on each other endlessly. I must have cum six or seven times in her mouth or pussy and I think she came as much as twice as often. She is, if anything, hornier than I am. Over the next two weeks we had sex every day in one way or another, often several times. In her bedroom when her parents were out, in my bedroom when my parents were out, in the back seat of the car, in motel rooms. It was like a sexual obsession for both of us. Her bodyguards had to know what was happening which, I think, would mean her parents would know, too.

Her father called me and asked to see me. I met with him in his office down town. I have always been aware that there is a huge social and financial difference between Dana and me. I guess I've just ignored it, hoping it would work out some how. I was very apprehensive about meeting with her father. I had met him but barely. 

"Brian, you and Dana have something going."

"Yes, we do. I think we are obsessed with each other."

"Where is this going to lead?"

"Well, if it goes as I hope, we'll eventually get married and spend our lives together."

"You're a Freshman in college. You have a part time job to earn spending money. You live with your parents. How do you intend to support a wife?"

"I can't right now and I know it. Once I finish college I should be able to get a decent job and should be able to support a wife."

"You have to know we're very well off. Dana is used to a life that you will never be able to afford based on what you've told me. I suspect, she'd be willing to accept the lesser life style in order to be with you. But it would always be a drag on your relationship. I'm not sure she could actually cut back that much without being very, very aware of it."

"I've always known there is a major financial and social difference," I replied, "and I guess I've tried to ignore it. We've never actually discussed this, Dana and me. I guess we need to."

"I've checked on you quite a bit. First, I'm sure you're really in love with Dana, I don't think you're interested in her money. I know that she's in love with you, well beyond our ability to change. But she's our only child and eventually will be worth a lot of money. Our net worth is a few billion, we have interests in hundreds of companies and businesses. I see no reason why my child can't enjoy that . So I believe it would make sense for you to learn to live to her standards rather than her learn to live to yours. But I'm fairly sure you're the type that is going to want to make it on your own and not have it all handed to you. So I'd like to suggest that we help you get the proper education and training to let you grow into being able to manage great wealth. I don't want to buy your soul or hurt you but I do want to help you grow in a way that you likely couldn't afford on your own. What do you think?"

I was overwhelmed. I didn't know what I thought. At the time, I couldn't conceive of what all of this might mean. It was beyond my life experience up until then. But what it did mean is that I changed schools. Dana and I went to the same university. We lived together (with rotating bodyguards next door). I changed my major to finance and proceeded to earn an MBA while Dana finished her bachelor's degree. We got married.

It's now been twenty years we've been together and have three children. She remains affected by her kidnapping so we have a rotating security staff to protect us and our children. She's still the sexiest female I've ever seen. She still loves my cock and has it in her mouth more often than her vagina. I still enjoy arousing her by licking her pussy and finger fucking her and we both do oral regularly, usually but not always leading to actually fucking, or perhaps making love is a better term. It's not every day any more but it's both often and not on a set schedule. It can interrupt us mid-morning or late afternoon or wait until bed time. Her father is retired and I'm managing the family fortune, now ours and our children's, and it's even noticeably larger than when I started. 



The Hero



Midfield Wisconsin, a medium-sized city by Midwestern standards, lies perched high above the shores of Lake Michigan. A long Coast Guard pier juts one mile out into the lake, slants sharply to the south then out for another quarter mile. This structure helps form a channel creating one of the best harbors on the lake, from which a fleet of commercial fishing boats goes forth each morning, accompanied by hundreds of swirling, squawking gulls. Huge merchant ships come and go, supplying coal and iron ore for the many industries which spread north and south of the pier for several miles, providing the major source of employment for the workers of Midfield. The beacon and foghorn from the pier, the hoards of whirling gulls, the storms that sweep in suddenly from the northeast, lend a New England seacoast ambiance to the town. 

Above the lakefront hill, most streets are lined with large spreading oaks, hickories, chestnuts, maples and stately elms. I suppose it is an average American town, but to me it seems a special, almost mystical place. Downtown, a park complete with the usual gazebo and diagonal walkways, surrounds a handsome old court house with spired clock tower. For several blocks around the downtown area stately two-and three story Victorians mingle with large Colonials. On the near north side, three blocks of genuine mansions line Sherman Road, perched on the edge of the steep hill which runs down to the lake, their rear windows providing a high unobstructed view of the lake, over the tops of the factories which line the shore.

On a typical summer Saturday morning, Ernie, my little brother and I wend our way through the dark streets. the morning of the promised fishing trip to the "Govemint" pier. Though the journey begins as a dreary 5 A.M. chore, it soon brightens as days do which Ernie and I share. On the long trek down "below the hill" we play "Get It Boys" , fantasy game of our own invention in which we are each in kingly control of a vast and powerful mob which can instantly seize for us any luxury item we desire, mostly cars. The first to tell "his boys" to "get" the particular item, owns it thereafter. Me and Mike, my all-time 'good buddy' and friend for life, have also often played, though we now see ourselves as becoming too old for this childish game. Ernie and I soon tire of the game, however, since in Midfield, not many cars are racing about at 5:30 A.M. on Saturday, and walk the rest of the way quietly, the backs of our hands sometimes bumping softly together. The gentle grey silence of false dawn is unbroken, save for the clacking and clanking of tackle boxes, bamboo poles and minnow bucket.

We arrive at Bobby's some minutes before the shop opens. Though Ralph, the proprietor, can be seen behind the fence, scrounging among the huge bubbling tanks of minnows of all varieties, like a mad warlock stirring steaming cauldrons; he will not even glance our direction until his six A.M., opening time.

At precisely 5:59 by the huge round Coca Cola clock visible through the glass door, a red and white neon sign, brilliant in the dusky morning, but dulled by many years of accumulated grime, bursts into life. Ralph unlocks and opens up, grumbling about "those Hunter boys bothering people so early and tryin' to take all the perch and smelt out of the lake and not leave none for nobody else."

"Hey Bobby! Got any minnows? " Ernie exclaims, falling easily and readily into this game we have so often played. Although he has told us about a gazillion times that his name is Ralph, detailing the history of his buying the business twenty years ago from his elderly uncle Bobby, the Hunter clan insists on addressing him as "Bobby".

"No! I ain't got no minnows," Ralph replies. Grinning sardonically, he sweeps his arms around the large screened-in area containing about eight huge tanks five feet long and about thirty inches wide. "I got lots of hamsters, though. That's what I got in these here tanks. These are just their swimmin' pools. Their apartments are inside. Most people don't know it, but hamsters love to swim."

"Well, give us about three dozen of those striped hamsters, then Bobby," I say, enjoying the patter, but anxious to get fishing. "Oh, and Bobby! Could we get live hamsters this time. Perch don't like dead hamsters." "I got a special deal goin' on trolley lines," Ralph says as he goes about the task of rinsing our bucket and filling it with fresh water and minnows. "Only four bucks!" All three of us know that when Ralph is finished, the bucket will contain about fifty minnows, for Ralph's external bluster barely \conceals his true affection for all the Hunters.

"Kin I . . .Uh. Could I see 'em?," Ernie asks shyly.

Ralph places the now-full bucket on the concrete floor, then guides my brother over to the dingy display case. Almost as if he were the older brother, I tag along behind. This area of Bobby's is inside. Behind the closed door to the left is where Ralph lives. I have not the slightest notion of the particulars of his life: how he lives or with whom, married or single, kids or not. In my typical adolescent consciousness, Ralph exists only for those few moments, several times a year, when he is actually in sight. In, under, around, and behind the aging and dusty display case, mysterious , esoteric and awe inspiring fishing accessories, implements and trivialities of all sorts are crammed into all available space. There are stringers and bobbers and sinkers and bells; leaders and lines and hooks and nets of all sizes and colors and kinds. There are many things whose design and purpose I cannot even guess. In short, this is a kids' paradise, the kind of place which pushes a young brain into a nearly meditative trance. As I stand there breathing in the chimerical essence of mystery, Ralph and Ernie's voices grow dim and their forms begin to waver and fade. I am moved to lay my arm across Ernie's shoulders, suddenly grateful for this excursion, grateful for Ernie's presence, his existence. There is an ache in me to have Duane's arm across my shoulders, and Dad's across his; a fear that all this magic will soon be lost to me in my body's mad rush to mature. Overhead, the joist spaces hold cane and bamboo poles from tiny three foot ice fishing size to the whopping twenty footers. These are our usual implements for snagging our prey, but the trolley line Ernie now gazes fondly upon, is efficiency simplified, the perfect implement for coaxing reluctant "jumbos" from the murky depths. He digs in his pockets to produce a wad of bills and change, some of which tinkles to the floor. We smack heads as each bends to retrieve it, nearly knocking each other over and my spell is broken by raucous laughter. Ernie, it seems has been saving his nickels and dimes for this expedition. 

As it turns out he has, after all, not enough to purchase the trolley line of his dreams. I toss in a buck-and-a-half, though, and that yields enough to purchase a 'power line', a contraption of rubber band, anchor, rope, line, leaders and hooks; which allows for the baiting of six hooks at once, and sending them farther and deeper than any pole. 

Out on the pier, Ernie is now forced to carry his own pole, plus the tackle box containing his new purchase, since I am now burdened with two gallons of water and fifty minnows, plus my fifteen-footer and a spare ten-footer for emergencies. We never fish on the near end of the pier, for it is our heartfelt belief that the true 'Jumbos' lurk out beyond the bend which signifies the quarter mile mark. It will take some time to launch Ernie's new contraption, which we have seen used, but never ourselves employed, so I make him bait and secure the three poles while I try to fathom its intricacies.

The anchor, a heavy piece of lead shaped like a buoy, with tentacles of heavy gauge wire, is fastened to a four-foot length of stout rope. This is tied to a piece of rubber band about thirty feet long, which, in turn, is attached to about one-hundred feet of fishing line, with six snap swivels spaced eighteen inches apart along the first eight feet. Thankfully, it has come to us fully assembled. We have only to unroll the whole thing from its wooden winder, lay it out along the pier without tangling it, and toss it out. The idea is to fling the anchor, with everything but hooks attached, out as far as possible and let it sink as far out and as deep as possible. Once it is caught on the bottom, the hooks can be attached and later baited simply by hauling on the line, stretching the rubber band. When hooks are baited, one simply releases the line and the rubber springs back, carrying the hooks back down to the depths where the "jumbo" perch are in residence, and hopefully hungry.

I am far from satisfied with my first two attempts to launch the device an acceptable distance. Both times I am able to successfully retrieve the anchor by hauling very rapidly. For my third attempt. I climb to the upper area of the pier, about eight feet higher. Swirling the short piece of rope above my head like my hero, Hopalong Cassidy wielding his lariat, I finally manage to fling the heavy lead about forty yards. As the anchor strikes the surface with a great splash, I glance over to discover that Ernie has been holding the not-fully-unwrapped line not very securely in hand. The thin piece of wood, line, leader, rope and anchor attached, goes sailing out into the air above the choppy grey surface of the lake. Time seems to slow to a crawl as many things happen in a few seconds. I glimpse the look of horror on my little brother's face as his wonderful new gadget seems lost forever. I jump down to the lower section of the pier and, without a second thought, fling myself into the lake, trying desperately to keep the flying gear in sight. 

When it strikes the water, it is rapidly pulled along the surface by the still descending anchor, leaving a wake like a tiny motorboat. In the end, it is luck that saves me. The small piece of wood, several yards of line still wrapped tightly around it, floats serenely about thirty yards from the concrete structure where Ernie is jumping up and down yelling indecipherable words. 

Slowly it dawns on me that I am barely afloat about a million feet above the lake bottom, weighted down by several layers of clothing and heavy camping boots rapidly filling with icy water. I grasp the thin piece of wood as if it were a life preserver, and turn back toward Ernie. With great resolve, I manage to ignore the vast amount of water below and behind me, concentrating only on the salvation ahead.

Reaching the pier is scary, but not too difficult, as I am a decent swimmer. (two summers later, at summer camp, I will qualify as a Red Cross life-saver and earn Lifesaving Merit Badge to become a Star Scout, two steps from Eagle). As I transfer the gear to Ernie's outstretched hand, his foot knocks our tackle box into the lake. I grab for it but miss. So once again I plunge into the freezing murky depths. All our precious fishing stuff is sinking, plowing down about two feet ahead of my desperately reaching hand. My brain goes into automatic, processing information faster than conscious thought. My hand stops reaching and strokes instead. The heavily laden metal container is racing me. The finish line is the murky lake bottom, about fifty feet away. I do not wish to go there. Pulling even with the box, I reach, but the reaching slows me and the box eludes my grasp again. Next try, I stroke strongly until I pass the container and snatch it as it passes. Until this moment, my urgent need for oxygen has gone unnoticed, but now becomes immediately urgent. I will be damned if I will release my hold on the heavy box. There is nothing but to stroke for the surface.

Somehow, despite the lack of oxygen to my brain, my limbs continue to function properly; push, paddle, kick; push paddle, kick, push,paddle,kick. I experience an eerie, frosty, looking-glass effect, a surreal, ice- water, out-of-body sensation. A sense very like a sound echoes up from the deep bearing a message of truth: that I have just died for a motley assortment of hooks, lines, and sinkers. 

Just before I open my mouth to laugh at the irony of it all, my head breaks the surface. Ernie seizes my hand and yanks with all his puny strength. It is just enough to keep the bulky metal from dragging me back to the depths. With the last of my strength, I hoist my load onto the concrete edge. The effect is immediate, bobbing me upward like a message in a bottle.

Despite my frigid clothing, we stay the rest of the day, catching about forty-five perch in all. It is by no means a record, but will make a good sized meal for the family. Ernie is very proud of his new gear, which has produced a major share of the day's catch. We knock off early, about 3 P.M., because I feel near to death from exposure, but also because there is a long trek home and many fish to clean.

No words are ever exchanged between Ernie and me about my foolish actions that day. Mom and Dad are told one of those necessary lies all kids tell their parents to protect them. The only viable lie involves my being clumsy enough to have fallen in, which is reinforced by, and in turn reinforces, my recent reputation as dreamer and klutz.

I do not take ill and die of exposure, as would happen in the books I cherish. That day, however, enhances my kinship with my little brother. About two years later I will overhear Ernie telling a friend about the time his crazy brother jumped off the pier to rescue a bunch of crappy fishing junk. However, the subtle but unmistakable sound of pride and admiration in the words, which I will cherish for years to come, with a pride far greater than merited by the deed itself.



The Heroes' Bar-Santa's Tale



Author's Note: This is an entry in the Winter Holiday contest. If you are offended by silk stockings, very mild bondage, or puns please read no more. I hope you enjoy it.

Thanks to CateJ for the beta read and feedback. 

The Heroes Bar - Santa's Tale 

or 

The Stockings were Hung by the Chimney with Ker

There is a large table in a nondescript bar located somewhere most people will never see. A very special group meets over this table, and recalls tales few have ever heard.

They are Heroes: folk of renown, doers of deeds, beings of myth and legend. Here they tell their own tales, particularly their less chronicled adventures. Lusty tales. Bawdy, naughty, nasty tales.

He stood up as tall as he could, leaned forward, and rested both hands on the Table. He was red, mostly, and round, with an impressive white beard. 

The gathered Heroes gave him their full attention: no one wanted to appear on his Bad List. He was a potent reminder that not all heroes swing swords, wear breechclouts slung low over torsos festooned with lean muscles, and pose majestically. Most, but not all.

Santa Claus began. "Let's call this one 'Stockings Hung by the Chimney with Ker'.

"Oh, the trouble you can get into with permission to sneak into millions of homes late at night! And the creative ways people think of to tempt me into that trouble. 

"The naughty and nice list: 'Oh, Santa, I've been baaad.'" St. Nick delivered the last part in a surprisingly successful seductress tone. 

"Milk and nookie.

"That's not my stocking you're filling. 

"Let's see whatcha got for me in that big full sack."

Each received increasingly larger groans and laughter from the Heroes around the Table.

"Stockings hung by the the chimney. Mmm.

"I've had more stockings by the chimney scenarios proposed to me than you can imagine. Fishnet, silk, nylon, thigh-high, wool and poly blend. You name it. But this one was special.

"The stocking were hung by the chimney and she was in them. She was wearing the most remarkable stockings, and they had been nailed to the wooden paneling alongside the stone chimney.

"These stockings had sewn in vertical ribbons of silk to support her weight. Or at least the part of her weight not on her toes. They had been nailed precisely to allow her to only reach the ground with her feet pointed acutely. And cutely. Face to the wall, her round bottom was on display to the room. And me. Her name was Ker. Short for Keri, I assume. 

"She was tiny. Tiny plus tip-toes is just the right height for Santa." He pantomimed what exactly tiny plus tip-toes was the right height for, in case any in the audience were challenged by his rhetorical flourishes.

"If you haven't noticed, I don't have the biggest legs in this group, no calves like Hercules or thighs like Miles Gloriosus.

"Tiny in height, tiny frame, but it looked like some nice, full breasts pressed against the wall.

"Her round cheeks were spread just slightly by the way the stockings had been nailed by the chimney. She was trying to look over her shoulder, her sight restricted by the angle and by her hair, darkish blonde or lightish brown.

"I noticed they had used old-fashioned square nails. I thought that was a nice kinky touch. With no care taken to not damaging the wood. After those nails are removed the wood on that side of the chimney will look distressed at best. Thrashed more likely.

"Whoever had hammered in those nails knew how. At least 20 big old square heads had been struck four or five times each, none bent, and each driven in centered on one of the bands of silk ribbon. White like the rest of the stockings.

"Let me describe these stockings in more detail."

"Please do." Someone said. Laughter around the table.

"They had to be silk. Nothing else looks like that or feels like that. Fine white, they let Ker's tan skin show through, but much paler. The hose narrowed to a strip as they traveled up each cheek, attaching to a simple white belt around her very small waist."

Again Santa illustrated with his hands.

"Two stockings from toe to garter. One belt. She wore nothing else. Or almost. Back to that in a moment.

"Two things made these stockings distinct. And remember, I've delivered more stockings and stuffed way more stockings than most of you will ever sniff."

Again, laughs. Oohs. 

"The first thing was, of course, the ribbons. Thin strips had been sewn in, running up each stocking from bottom to top. I could see three on the back of each leg, the middle one running up her Achilles and behind her knee, on the usual seam. The others ran parallel to that one, while accentuating the curves of her calf and thigh.

"The second thing was how the stockings were hung. They were not held up by the belt. They were holding up the girl. A fourth and fifth ribbon on each leg had been stretched away from her soft skin and pierced by the rectangular blades of the old-fashioned nails.

"I couldn't tell if the stockings had been carefully attached to the wall and then Ker somehow dropped into them, or if she was wearing them and perhaps standing on a low stool, then had the stool removed once she'd been hung. I don't have any idea what help she had, but if anyone did help her, they have my thanks."

"Our's too!" A deep voice called from near the foot of the Table.

"Either way, she was nailed to the wall, inches to the left of the chimney. I'd guess at least half her weight - which couldn't have been more than 90 pounds - was held up by the stockings. Her outstretched toes, covered in white silk, provided the rest of her support.

"Being supported this way kept her firmly pressed against the wall, especially her lower body. It also pulled her lovely little cheeks apart, as I mentioned. She obviously tanned without bottoms on. There were no lines to be seen.

"The only thing She wore, aside from the belt and the stockings, was a bright red ribbon. Not too big, the knot perhaps the size of my palm. Centered on the belt, right above that cute round perfectly-tanned bottom. Hand tied, with the two bow ends hanging just a bit down her crack.

"Now in my experience, my bountiful experience in uncounted homes late a night, most bare bottoms I see are not necessarily cute, attractively round, or evenly tanned. Especially all three.

"Even when I do happen to find all three in one happy package it's rarely so compact. And moving a lot of packages, I appreciate the compact ones.

"Now this package met all the above. Plus, it was tied up so nice, and with a red ribbon."

Santa gave that "What are you going to do?" shrug that every proper Hero understood.

"I have a full schedule that particular night," only a couple laughs: he uses that line to often, "but there's always leeway for milk and cookies, or whatever else might be left out for a jolly old elf. 

"Before I start with any intimate human encounter, I go through the one ritual that they all want. The one thing that no encounter with the Sleigher-"

His emphasis on it cried out for harassment. Groans and chuckles, heads shaking. Samson, as usual not getting the pun, bellowed out, "Slayer! Ha."

Santa could handle the long-haired heckler. "Close sir, but no. Not 'Ha.' Ho. As in HO HO HO."

Heroes, godlings, and doers of the greatest of deeds alike looked stunned, mouths agape. Each HO had vibrated through them like a shock wave. Those standing had been knocked back a step or more. Wavy and flowing locks were all aflutter.

"As I was saying - no human encounter is complete without the Ho Ho Ho."

This time he let out a normal sort of Santa laugh, with just a hint of the Bowl Full of Jelly he had just hit them with. With this one, someone paying attention would feel vibration, the subsonic bass a mortal laugh shouldn't reach. More than one Hero, as they righted benches and stools, wondered just how loud his HO could go.

"I got down on my knees behind my gift. Or in front of it. Behind her. I ran my hands up her thighs, feeling the smooth sheer silk and the interspersed stitching for the ribbons. Then up over her smoother skin, stretched tight over the globe of each cheek. As my hands slid higher and wider toward her hips, they pulled those cheeks further apart. 

"I glimpsed the wink of a brown eye, and then the lips below revealed a slight glistening. She was wet enough already to see it, without being touched. I heard her breath then quicken, and her little hips tried to wiggle in my hands. Her lower body was held immobile by the stockings themselves.

"As you all can tell, I have a beard. It can get cold in an open sleigh at night, in Winter, at very high speed. The wind chill is murder at altitude. That's why I am so famous for these jolly red cheeks. One of my few areas of exposed skin.

"The wind has also made my cheeks rather sensitive. I love the feeling of soft skin, or fur, or stockings, rubbing against my cheek. 

"These stockings were cut perfectly for her. I ran a thumb over each round globe again. I traced the line where silk became flesh. Feeling every stitch and knot on one side of the line, each pore and near-invisible hair on the other. Again, I pulled her open a little extra.

"I pushed my face forward. Leaning right, I felt the sheer white silk first on my right cheek. Pressing in, my left cheek was also caressed by stocking. My nose felt a wedge of soft skin and I heard a whimper from above me just as the first ribbon seam on the inside of each leg slid by each cheek.

"I breathed out softly onto her. Another whimper. I blew harder, inching my face further in, her stocking seams pressing in on both sides. I felt her push back, straining toward the warm breath. Her rosebud bumped the tip of my nose and I could feel her shudder.

"I pushed forward, stuck my tongue out and licked. Bottom to top. She moaned loudly this time. Her eager lips opened immediately as that first lick traced the line between them. She tried to arch her back toward me but failed. She was held too tight.

"I gave her the same result by lowering my head a tad and nuzzling in between her legs. At the same time I grabbed low on both hips, more the upper thighs, as my palms spread over silk. I pulled those firm, tiny thighs toward my mouth as much as I could, considering how she was held.

"It was enough for my tongue to reach past her slit. I held her like that as she started to shake in my hands. I licked her slit deep, then slid up to probe the area of her swollen hood. The tip of my tongue slipped along the lower edge of that hood, barely reaching its captive.

Her shaking was joined by the slightest vertical movement as she started to bounce on her toes. She couldn't move much, but enough to feel those lovely buns rubbing my cheeks with her stockings, and allow my tongue punctuated visitation to various destinations. 

"I let her bouncing guide me. My tongue went inside her, fucking her every time she dropped a little more onto her toes. She rose higher up and I slipped forward toward her hood, pressing my cheeks further between hers. When she dropped down from there, it forced the hood further up and over the sensitive nub. Her bouncing became more focused, keeping me on the spot.

"I felt her tense, her cheeks squeezing tight. I was especially aware of one ribbon seam pressed against my left cheek as she clenched.

"Her climax pressed her hips forward toward the wall, escaping the intensity on her most sensitive spot. It brought my tongue, with a little guidance from me, right to her tiny tight little rosebud, winking with each contraction as she came.

"I made no effort to penetrate her there, but flattened my tongue against her opening and pressed hard. I heard her first scream.

"Not loud, but the way I felt her flutter under my tongue, the way she writhed against the wall, the almost mournful cry from deep in her body signified the release I was looking for. Giving her the gift of giving in to the pleasure. She gave in to that sensation, knowing that she was being licked in that most private place, and whether she liked it or not, she was cumming harder than a mouth had ever made her cum.

"She was still shuddering as I stood and released my fly. I had a full schedule, after all.

"I lined up my head, dragging it with one hand along her slit. Once, twice, three times. The third time I felt the head bury inside her slippery wet lips and pushed.

"She was tight, very tight, but, again, I do have that schedule. I slid my whole length into her and held it there. I didn't need to hold her against the wall. She couldn't move. Her pussy pulsed up and down my shaft as her orgasm subsided, or so she thought.

"I started to move. In and out of that tiny little present, hung by the chimney just for Santa. I felt her tighten. I felt her pulsing begin to increase instead of easing. She seemed surprised, and the whimper was back.

"I wasn't surprised. Santa has a wide range of surprises in his well stuffed sack. A sack I needed to empty soon. In more ways than one.

"I started to push harder into her, appreciating again the way the nails held her petite frame at the ideal height for me. Her head was flopped back now against my shoulder as she mumbled. The pulsing around my cock had changed to a series of deep milking squeezes. 

"I felt my balls tighten. I whispered in her ear, my lips barely brushing against her. I let her feel a little Ho Ho Hum, knowing that vibration would travel throughout her body, doing its special magic. "Cum for Santa. Make him cum inside your little sugar plum."

She did. They always do. I emptied Santa's special frosting into her, leaning my weight against her to support myself. I felt her explode, the contractions stronger than before inside her, her breath now ragged gasps.

"I pushed back upright, watching my cock slipping out from between those lovely tan globes. I turned to leave after assuring her she'd started off the next year on the Good List. Being a gentleman, I asked if she wanted help down. She declined. That reminded me of how she hadn't looked like she'd been up there long when I first came down the chimney.

"I asked her how she'd timed my visit so well. Ker just shrugged and giggled. 'I had hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be here'."

Groans from the audience. "Every time Nick tells a story, you know you're going to get a punch line. A bad one."

"Yeah, last year it was Mrs. Claus complaining he was ignoring her and being to Elf-centered."

Postlude

Ker slowly regained her breath. That was so intense. David had made an amazing Santa. She hadn't even heard him use the door, like he was really magic or something. Though he had been a little earlier than planned. She was glad she'd been ready in time.

A sound made Ker's breath caught in her throat. Was that the door? She distinctly heard the lock turn and the door swing open with a squeak. Then close and lock again.

"Ho Ho Ho." That was David. Why did he sound like David now? He'd sounded like a real Santa moments ago.

"Have you been a good little girl?" David was right behind her. She felt his familiar hands squeezing her ass cheeks before he slid down onto his knees. "Did you leave a treat out for Santa this year?"

Ker felt his scratchy rental beard push between her legs. Hadn't the beard felt soft before? 

She felt David's long tongue slowly, languidly explore her slit. The tongue stopped, licked again. He pulled his face back from her.

"Mmm, babe," His voice had no trace of Santa now. "Damn, you taste good!"

He pushed his head back in for another taste then came back out. Ker could hear his smile even if she couldn't quite see it. 

"What'd you do?" he asked. "Let a candy cane melt in there just for me?"

He buried his head once more against her, tasting her deeply, savoring her magical sweet juices.

The End

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! As this story is an entry in the Winter Holiday contest, if you enjoyed it, comments and votes are deeply appreciated.  



The Heroine



David and Karen had been married for two years, they met right after college, and within weeks they both knew that they had found the person for them. In that time their relationship blossomed as they grew to love one another, and all of the little quirks were seen as cute and darling instead of annoying habits.

The one thing that kept their relationship knew and interesting at all times was their sex life. Part of their amazing connection was that they matched perfectly in the bedroom. Nether had much experience with other people, but they had a level of trust that made it possible for them to do anything to one another and not be afraid.

The part of their sex life that was the most fun was the surprises they planned for one another. Having been together and experiencing new things they both knew what the other wanted (and having access to the internet history didn't hurt either).

She found a wide variety of stories in their internet history, and she wasn't the one viewing them. From Wonder Woman to Supergirl or Catwoman, the stories featured all of them at various stages of dress and undress, being forced to do things against their will, and of course then there were the videos featuring them fighting henchmen of some sort, with them eventually taking a few punches and going down, only to be used as sex toys by their captors. Karen kept watching video after video, getting more and more turned on by them. Realizing that this was something that had never been brought up before, and something that would be the ultimate surprise for him.

David was having a fairly boring work day, his company was in its light season, and while that meant he was able to come home at decent hours, it also meant that the hours he spent at his desk at work were interminable. Mainly the hours between 2-5 pm, the hours where he wanted to do nothing more than to leave his desk and go home for a nap on the couch, or to get started on the errands he needed to do. Today ended up being far different however, typically throughout the day he would text message back and forth with Karen while she was managing things around the house.

Today however, he had barely heard from her, she only mentioned running "errands" but didn't specify anything to the level of detail that she normally kept for things around the house. This made his mind wonder where she could be going, since she wasn't one to hide things from him, no matter the triviality. He was set to leave at 4:45, and he got one singular message from her, all it said was: "I'm looking forward to seeing you tonight, please read the note under the mat before you come in."

Clearly this was not the style of message he was used to getting from his wife, and he quickly tried to think of what the note could possibly contain.

David rushed home, looked under the doormat and all it said was "Go inside and open the box on the kitchen table."

As he walked into the house he saw the aforementioned box, slightly larger than a shoebox, and made of cardboard. He picked it up, shaking it briefly to try and figure out the contents, and then opened the box and found clothing for him, but was unable to determine what it was for, since it looked like a jumpsuit with a weird logo he had never seen. Underneath the jumpsuit there was a note taped to the bottom of the box. It was handwritten in Karen's handwriting "The Cunt has recently come close to inventing a new nerve gas that would make everyone who inhaled it obey her every command. The Dominant has set out to stop her, and must find out the names of the people who have helped her create it, by any means necessary." It was signed by Karen, and as a PS it said "Don't take it easy on me, treat me like one of those girls in the videos you enjoy so much."

Instantly he realized what videos she was referring to, all the ones he thought he had cleared the cookies to on the computer. "Well if she went to the trouble of setting this up, this must be what she really wants." He looked back down at the jumpsuit and cape and sees a large D on the chest "Good to know I'm not the Cunt."

He put on the costume, it was a black jumpsuit, a belt, cape, gloves, and a small black mask that covered his eyes, he felt a little silly wearing it, but realized it was all a part of the game, and that ultimately it would pay off in the end. He walked around the ground floor of the house, paying close attention to any noise, or anything changed, and then headed downstairs into the basement, which was also a makeshift playroom for them. As he walked downstairs he was careful not to make too much noise, and as he got down there he looked to his right, seeing a desk set up, and Karen, dressed as The Cunt. Her red hair hung down off her head onto a shiny pink cape, he could see black high heeled boots that went up to her thighs, and red gloves as he walked closer, holding his breath to not make any noise, as stepping quietly until he was right behind her, and then pounced, one hand reaching around, grabbing her head, the other wrapping around her ample breasts, which were on display bulging out of a pink corset, pulling her sideways off the chair. "I've got you know Cunt, and I'll make sure your nerve gas is never put into use," he declared, trying his best to sound like a superhero.

"You'll have to do better than that," she said as she fought back, doing her best to kick and squirm to get out of his grasp, getting half free before he reared back and did something he never thought he could ever do, he punched her in the stomach, not as hard as he could, but enough that he could hear her breath escape from her mouth. He looked at the room and noticed their sawhorse set up in the middle of a play area that they blocked off. 

"I need to know who helped you, clearly you don't have the scientific know-ho to accomplish this," and punched her again as he led her by the hair.

"I'll never tell you Dominator, my evil plan will be carried out to completion," she said, doing her best to stay in character.

"Fine, I guess we'll do this the hard way," he said, and threw her onto the horse, still holding her head down he cuffed both of her wrists to the front legs of the apparatus, and then moved back to do the same with her ankles, leaving her legs spread, and learning why she decided to go with "The Cunt" as a name, since the panties she wore were leather and crotch less, leaving her pussy lips open for all to see. "Last chance before this starts to get painful for you," he said, his hands beginning to undo her corset.

"I'll never talk Dominator, soon enough my plan will be complete, and even you will do my bidding," she looked at him, holding her head up as much as her position allowed her to. "You can do your worst, but my desire to rule the World is far greater than any pain you could inflict."

He pulled her corset down her body, seeing her DD breasts spill out and hang down on either side of the horse, grabbing both nipples and pulling down, pinching them tightly between his two fingers. 

"Is that the worst you can do?" she responded with a smirk, which was immediately wiped off of her face by his hand, leaving a stinging sensation on her cheek, and in his palm. He pulled out a set of clamps, connected with a chain, and attached one to either nipple, wrapping the chain around the bottom of the horse, pulling her nipples down some, and even moreso when he grabbed the chain and pulled down harshly, seeing her tits stretch down further than he had ever seen before. She was clenching her teeth and contorting her mouth from the pain, which only helped him pull them down further before letting his grip loosen and then shaking the clamps back and forth.

He grabbed her head by the hair, looking her directly in the face "I can do far worse than you can imagine Cunt" as he pulled down on them slowly, watching her mouth open wider as he pulled more. He slapped her again, harder this time, then let her head hang down along with the clamps, and moved behind her, trailing his fingers down her now exposed body and moving behind her, his hand finding her exposed cunt, feeling its heat and its wetness "I see I have a little pain slut, don't I?" he taunted, right before slapping her pussy with his hand, and then hitting it again, and again, seeing her body react each time, and his hand now having her juices on it.

"I am a painslut, which is why you aren't capable of breaking me, switch," she said, adding an attempted evil laugh at the end. It was ended abruptly by the feeling of leather striking her pussy in the form of a flogger, the strands hitting her pussy perfectly the first strike, forcing her to elicit a moan at the feeling, and then each time subsequently as he varied the impact from harder to softer, keeping her off balance as he assaulted her wet cunt with the toy. Then pulling on the panties and eventually ripping them off of her, leaving her supple ass exposed. He fondled it at first, feeling the softness, the roundness, teasing the most sensitive areas of it before the flogger began again in earnest. He hit one cheek, and then the other using a figure-8 motion, alternating cheeks and building up speed and intensity as he got into his rhythm. Her ass turning bright red, then shaking when he reared back with the flogger and struck her, the strands combining into a much harder object as it came down on her ass, her back and her legs, leaving red marks on her body as he continued on and on with it. Her moans and noises turned from pleasurable releases of air to whimpers as the pain all over her body was slowly becoming too much. 

"Not that big of a painslut, are you?" he taunted, running the flogger up her body, letting the strands barely make contact with her reddened skin.

"Still not talking, am I?" She said as she craned her head to look back at him.

He leaned forward grabbing her by the hair again, looking her in the eyes as he grabbed their ballgag, and pushed it as far into her mouth as it would go, then wrapping it around her neck tightly. "That's fine, I'm not really expecting you to after just that." After making sure the ballgag was secure he pulled a blindfold over her eyes, trying to isolate her from her primary senses.

He pulled his belt off slowly, letting her hear the leather move against the loops. Pulling it taut with a snap once or twice and she knew the sound immediately, even before he ran the cool leather up and down her back. The first thwack was soft, but leaving a stinging sensation, very controlled on one side of her ass, and then the other and back, and then stopping, the leather working its way up and down her body again. David could see her body convulse and her muscles tense and loosen as the leather ran across her body, teasing it, letting her feel it over every inch of her. Then he loosened his grip on the belt, letting it unfold once, then rearing back with his right arm, his hips turning from being perpendicular to her body to parallel in an instant, his arm following their momentum, the belt lagging slightly behind, then speeding up at the end as it made perfect impact on her ass, the sound resonating throughout the room, her ass immediately becoming red as a muffled scream fought to emerge from her mouth. Her breathing increased as her body prepared for more, and it received just that.

Time after time he would repeat the process, rearing back, bringing the belt forward as fast as he could against her ass leaving 2 inch wide strips all across her ass until it was covered in them, her entire ass changing from her normal skin color to one that would normally be found in a box of crayons.

He let her body rest for a minute, running his fingers over her ass, prolonging the sensation as his dug them into her flesh causing her to squirm against her bounds. She could hear his footsteps across the room, going away from her, and then coming back, listening intently to try and get any clues at all for what was in for her next, then she heard the unmistakable sound of a cane being swung through the air at full speed. He swung it over her body, then near her head, letting the sound permeate the room before it came down at full speed across her already reddened ass. Then softly, moving from the small of her back to the tops of her thighs, then harder again, leaving parallel horizontal lines across her ass, the skin already beginning to welt after each successive stroke. He let her ass settle, letting the cane move up and down her back, the end tracing the outline of her spine, moving vertically along her body until she heard, and subsequently felt the thwack on her ass, this time, a different alignment, it hitting vertically, making a grid out of her ass, red lines emerging out of a red backdrop, her muffled cries still trying in vain to escape her mouth. 

He moved to her head again, releasing the ballgag, which fell out of her mouth onto the floor, spit on both sides of her mouth. "Well Cunt? Anything pithy to say now?" He asked, mocking her as he pulled her head up by holding her chin.

"Mmm,"she said "Take me to bed and fuck me David."

"Sounds like a good plan," he said, undoing her bounds, carrying her back to the bedroom.




The Hero's Return



Sir Richard Loxton kicked his steed into a gallop. He could see the ancient city of Asran in the middle distance and was ardent to be home. Home where his loyal people would welcome him with enthusiasm; home where he could at last settle; home where his beautiful wife Adina would be waiting for him after his long absence. Sir Richard saw the standard bearer lead the column, his charge flying high in the clear blue sky and flaunting the Loxton colours proudly. A dozen infantrymen followed in his wake; all good men and true – chosen men bearing their battle scars with fortitude and pride. Richard, their beloved leader and king, rode flanking them to the west, guiding them back to their home.

The townspeople of Asran had gathered in the square to welcome home their king and his soldiers. A feast of wild boar and other exotic foods had been prepared and delicious aromas wafted through the still air. There were cheers and applause for the conquering heroes as their horses stampeded through the gates. The late afternoon sun glistened on sparkling armour and chain-mail. It bathed the face of Sir Richard and warmed him gloriously. He swelled with pride.

The evening was given over to the great feast held outside in the square. Richard and his men ate and drank with gusto, filling their bellies and recounting their war stories to whoever would listen. And in the background, fearsome and lurking, John Naisby stood, the Lord High Chancellor.

Naisby was indeed fearsome. The king's wrath was well appreciated in Asran and the news that it was Naisby's duty to impart would doubtless turn the king's mood. But the news, however bad, could wait no longer and, with his heart pounding resonantly in his chest, the Lord Chancellor made his way through the throng to where Sir Richard was seated at the head of the great table.

"My Lord, I must speak with you. It is a matter of some urgency."

"Can it not wait, Naisby?" Richard boomed. "Can you not see that I am at leisure now? My most beautiful wife is back at my side and all is well with the world."

Naisby felt himself shiver slightly as the king roughly pulled his wife to him and embraced her lewdly.

"I regret, My Lord, this information can wait no longer. I must speak with you. Now and in confidence. May I await you in my chambers?"

Sir Richard breathed a petulant sigh. It seemed that there was always some calling on his person. He had intended to wait but a few more minutes before repairing to the comfort of his own chamber, there to enjoy the comfort of his wife. It had been many months since their last private union and Sir Richard smiled as he thought that his pride was not the only thing that was presently swollen. But urgent matters of state once again beckoned and he could never forget his exulted position.

"Very well, Naisby. I will join you shortly. At least allow me to finish this most excellent meal!"

Pleased at least that a proportion of his duty had been completed, Naisby scuttled away towards his chambers. But there was still fear in his heart. Fear of how the king would receive the most distasteful news.

"I regret most sincerely in having to impart this information, My Lord," Naisby was shaking from head to toe. "But it is my duty to keep the king abreast of developments within his court."

Naisby trembled again as he studied Sir Richard's expression. There was never any telling how the king would react to news.

"Ah, I don't blame you old friend." Richard said solemnly. "I have suspected My Lady Adina of unfaithfulness for some time. You are not to blame, Naisby, 'Tis something I must deal with though. It cannot be rumoured about court that the king is being cuckolded. And with servants, to boot!"

As Sir Richard laid a friendly hand upon Naisby's shoulder, the older man relaxed visibly.

"But what is to be done, My Lord?" He questioned.

Richard stroked his rugged chin thoughtfully. He was a fine strategist, certainly, but affairs of the heart were not ever high on his list of priorities. His eye's suddenly blazed. An idea was clearly evident.

"A punishment that fits the crime, old friend." He stated, turning to look at Naisby. "I have a task for you, Lord Chancellor. In fact two."

"My Lord?"

"Seek out My Lady Adina. Speak to her. Inform her that the king desires her presence and then escort her to my chambers and request that she waits for me."

"Of course, My Lord. But you mentioned two tasks?"

"Secondly, find two of my finest, brave-hearted soldiers. Bring them to me immediately."

Naisby bowed his obedience dutifully and left the king alone with his thoughts. He was relieved to be out of the room. He was uncertain what the king was scheming, but he knew as well not to question him. The Lady Adina would be delivered to the king's chamber without postponement.

"I have a pleasant surprise for you." Said Richard as he led the two soldiers along the dark, labyrinthine corridors. "A most pleasant interlude with some female company awaits!"

The two soldiers smiled to each other and thanked their king profusely. They spoke to each other in quiet whispers.

"I hope 'tis not the whore, Maylin." Said the first, taller warrior. "The last time I was in consult with that buxom wench I was left with nothing more than a dose of the pox!"

"Maybe it will be the maid Sofia." The second soldier replied. "She has the tightest of all cunts, I believe!"

"A tight cunt she has indeed, but you and I both know that her back passage is even tighter, eh Randolph?"

Both soldiers laughed arousing the attention of Sir Richard.

"'Tis neither of the two lowly wenches you speak of," he said, stopping outside an unmarked oaken door. "You Titus, and you Randolph. You are both good, loyal soldiers. You deserve better than mere serving wenches and whores for your entertainment!"

With a flourish the king swung the solid door open and ushered his two subjects inside the chamber. The room was dimly lit but the two soldiers could clearly make out the familiar figure of The Lady Adina lying reposed on the great bed. They – and she – all gasped as they quickly realised the significance of the situation.

"But, My Lord .." Titus started.

Richard face was barely illuminated, but the sly grin was entirely evident. "You have never disobeyed me, Titus. Do you intend to start now?" "What is the meaning of this, Richard?" Adina said. She made an attempt to pull her robe back around her barely clad body. Richard switched his attention back to his wife. His smile quickly faded. "I have long suspected you of disloyalty, My Lady." He said quietly. "Perhaps my two finest men will be able to quench your excessive ardour! Do not make any attempt to cover yourself, my dear, these two men are here for one thing and one thing only. I know you will not disappoint me further by denying them what I have said is to be theirs." Adina looked at her husband and knew that to disobey him further would not be wise – she had seen that look on his face before. Inwardly she cursed Lord Naisby. It was clear that, after she had denied him the favours that she had been so free with to other courtiers, he was the one who had betrayed her. But, of course, it had been she who had betrayed the most. She who had betrayed the king. The two soldiers, Titus and Randolph were surely surprised by their kings' order, but the men had spent the last several months sleeping in rough ground or under canvas. Neither had there been any female company during that time and both soldiers were more than happy with the prospect of sexual congress with a well-bred lady. Richard watched his men strip from their clothes with all haste. He smiled and licked his lips as he thought of the prospect of Adina's humiliation at their hands. He knew they would be more than ready for female contact – any female – and that they would hardly be expected to treat her any better than a common whore. In a second Titus was upon Adina. His hands pawed crudely at the thin, almost translucent fabric of her chiffon tunic, mauling her olive coloured skin and pulling the garment open to expose the smooth, upward curves of her breasts. His hungry lips sought her teats and sucked them greedily into his mouth. Richard could see the little buds throb and swell as his warrior feasted upon them. And then Randolph was also ready. The young soldier now brandished a different weapon. His thick cock projected from his body like a curved sabre as he approached Adina. Sir Richard gasped when he saw the ferocity of the soldier's manhood. The head was hard and swollen as it lay gripped in the mans fist and veins bulged along the thick shaft as he approached the head of Adina. "Ah! My lady likes to swallow man-meat!" Randolph commented as he pushed the head of his turgid appendage between her painted lips. Adina's mouth opened wide to accept the great size of him. She could feel her tight nipples aching as they were sucked and chewed by the man under her. She could hardly believe what she was doing – how whore-like she was acting – especially as it was all being conducted under the careful scrutiny of her husband. "That's it, my dear!" Richard laughed as he saw his sweet, unfaithful wife permit the large manhood to penetrate her mouth. "Taste his manliness, my sweet, show him what a slut-lady you really are!" As Adina continued with her oral caresses. Titus had moved away from her heaving breasts and was busying himself in the task of removing her undergarments. "Ah, a sweet little cunt indeed!" he cried as the garment fell away to reveal the lady's moist treasures. "A little taste, I think!" Adina moaned around the thick protrusion that continued to invade her mouth. She could feel the soft embrace of a male tongue on her most private of parts and, involuntarily, her long, shapely legs spread open to further expose her womanly charms. The warm, wet flesh slithered gloriously over her sensitive clitoris and she felt fingers – long, masculine fingers – simultaneously infiltrate both of her nether openings. Richard smiled warmly from his seated position of scrutiny. His wife's low moans had increased in pitch and were turning quickly into banshee-like wails. Titus was thrusting his fingers deep into both her holes, the digits aglisten with her feminine fluids as Adina reached a thundering, climactic peak. "I think the lady shall not yet be sated, Titus." Sir Richard exclaimed. "Perhaps a more vigorous approach is warranted?" With hard, rapier-like cocks, both soldiers bundled the near naked wife of their leader back onto the day bed. It was clear that Adina could hardly keep her hands from straying to the inflamed poles of flesh and, despite her post-orgasmic shuddering, she managed to grasp a thick protrusion in each dainty hand. It was now the turn of Titus to sample for himself the pleasures of Adina's warm and wet mouth. His cock slid gracefully between her lips and with a quick thrust of his hips passed into her constricting windpipe. He groaned long and deep as the wonderful feelings of excitement washed over him. Sir Richard watched avidly as, leaving his compatriot to his own pleasurable deeds, Randolph took up a position between Adina's outstretched legs. His fist tightly gripping his mighty weapon, the soldier played the swollen head through the moist folds of her nether lips and over her throbbing, partially hidden clit. Another moan of excitement emanated from the woman and Randolph used that moment to thrust the entire length of his erect member into the depths of her body.

"Your observations were not wrong, Titus." He claimed between grunts of exertion. "My Lady does indeed possess a fine, tight cunt!"

"And you were correct in your analysis of her wet mouth, my friend." Titus replied. "She clearly enjoys the savour of male flesh."

"Enough talk!" Sir Richard suddenly exclaimed. He wanted to reassert his authority. "Time to root the lady soundly!"

Their instructions received and clearly understood, the two loyal subjects commenced thrusting their weapons in and out of Adina's mouth and cunt. Adina could hardly remember a time when she had felt more complete; more full of male flesh, than she was at that time. Her heart raced beneath her heaving bosom as her body was thrust back and forth by the rough soldier at each end of her body. This time things were very different. She had no control over her, albeit extremely pleasant, assault. These were no servants that were invading her, no lowly form of peasant that she could command with a word or two. These were her husbands' warriors and they were under his decree. She was merely their plaything, designed for their enjoyment alone. But, secretly, Adina knew that she was gaining equally as much pleasure as the soldiers.

She was aware of the men moving her again; repositioning her for further pleasure to be taken. Her body was lifted, her legs spread open again and she was lowered back down. She gasped as she felt the great size of Randolph's weapon pierce her cunt. Her body continued to sink down further of its own accord and she moaned quietly as the entire length of the soldier's manhood ascended almost into her very womb. She opened her eyes just in time to see Titus pressing his own fierce looking erection ever closer to her mouth. She took the second weapon willingly, almost gratefully between her lips and drew in a great breath as her peak ensued yet again. She could feel the rivers of her own moisture flooding down between her legs.

Sir Richard could see that his two combatants were fast approaching peaks of their own. He was little surprised and was frankly amazed at their stamina thus far.

"I think the bitch is ready for her prize, gentlemen." He said. Richard's exterior expression may have seemed calm and collected but inside he was a mass of excited and expectant nerves. Again, the soldiers knew better than to disobey their beloved and respected leader. Weapons were quickly withdrawn from their most pleasurable homes and pointed directly towards Adina. Both men knew that release was imminent and with a few brisk strokes of their fists, creamy white fluid soon began to issue forth.

Adina gasped and gurgled as the sperm coated and covered the upper part of her body. She could feel the tingling down between her legs and couldn't help but use a finger to increase the pressure until she felt her cunt explode once again in a mighty climax.

As the two men breathed deep and wiped off their weapons, Richard was also breathing hard. He could feel his own erection throbbing wildly beneath his britches.

"You have served well, my friends," he said, "both on the battlefield and in my chamber. But you can leave us now. Your pleasurable work is complete. Go and leave us alone."

As the two warriors collected their clothing and beat a retreat from his chamber, Richard looked down at his exhausted wife. The fluid from his soldiers still stained her olive skin and ran in tiny rivulets over her heaving breasts.

"I believe My Lady to look like a common whore now!" He said "And to act as a common whore means you should be treated like one. My men have used you well and for their pleasure, but I suspect that the pleasure was not entirely theirs….am I correct my dear?"

Adina looked up at her husband and smiled. It was the look of a newly made subservient.

"So, my little whore," Richard continued, "I believe you have one opening still left that has not yet been taken. It is now my wish to take my own pleasure from you."

As her husband roughly turned Adina over onto her belly and raised her backside into the air, she could already see his stiff erection as it protruded from his open britches. She knew what was to come and wanted it. She wanted him and him alone, she now realised.

The burning sensation in Adina's backside as her husband pushed his weapon into her rear passage quickly subsided into a warm, tingling glow as he began to slide his manhood in and out of the tiny hole. All the while he took her, he grunted his words out.

"Whore….Slut-woman…..wench…."

Adina took it all as she knew she would and, as the warm rush of his fulfilled excitement finally filled her back passage, she knew that she was his. 

"My Lord," she began between deep breaths, "I will never be disloyal to you again. I give my solemn word that no other man will ever touch me."

Sir Richard Loxton smiled. He knew he had won; he always won. But his attitude towards his wife had changed.

"That may not be entirely necessary." He said slowly. 



The Hessian's Tale



"This place is so cool," Abby said as she turned around, taking in all of the detail of the entryway where she stood. "I've got the weirdest feeling, though. It almost feels like I'm home."

"Yeah," Claire said, not really paying attention. "It's really expensive, too, so we have to mind our manners."

The sorority sisters stepped through the entryway. They had joined resources with one of the fraternities from their school in renting the house for their Halloween costume party. Several members of both groups were finishing the decorations for the costume party which was supposed to start in a few short hours. Claire and Abby made their way to the kitchen, sat their bags down and began helping with the preparation of the food.

"I know you young folk aren't serving dinner tonight, but it sure smells good in here."

Heads turned toward the sound of the voice.

An old man, tall, slender and grizzled in appearance stood in the door way. He stepped into the kitchen.

"We may have gone a little overboard on the snacks we're serving," said Sara, standing at the stove and stirring a pot.

"I'm sure the guys will make sure we don't have too much left over," said Abby pulling a dish out of the refrigerator and setting it on the counter.

"Your voice sounds familiar, young lady," the old man said.

"I think I talked to you on the phone about renting this place," she said.

"That must be it," the old man said. "And your name was..."

"Abby," she said, smiling. "My name's Abby."

The old man stood peering at her for a moment, then smiled.

"Well, Abby, you and your friends have a good time tonight," he said. "I'm not normally here nights, so I hope everything goes well for you all. If you do need me for anything, I will be available for you." He handed Abby a card with his number on it. 

As quickly as he'd appeared, the old man turned and left the kitchen.

"Kind of creepy how he wanted to know your name and stared at you, don't you think?" Claire asked.

"He probably hasn't seen this many women in one place in years," Sara said. She reached forward and adjusted a knob on the stove.

"I think he's harmless," Abby said. "He seems to be just a sweet old man."

The girls went back to work preparing the food for the party.

A couple of hours later, the three girls were upstairs changing into their costumes for the party. Sara was dressing as the Cat Woman, Claire as a French Maid and Abby was dressing in a Colonial gown. All three of them were in various stages of undress, touching up their make-up and carefully adorning their bodies.

"I'm kind of irritated that more of the guys didn't show up to help us get ready," Claire said. She had one foot on the bed as she slowly rolled a fishnet stocking up her leg. She was wearing black bikini panties with a black garter belt and no bra. Her breasts swayed gently with the movement of her body as she moved the top of the stocking closer to the top of her thigh.

"I don't know why that surprises you," Sara said. "Besides, you know if they had shown up, they'd be more than willing to help us right now." She sat in front of the mirror clad only in a wispy white thong. Her nipples stood erect atop her breasts as she leaned forward, focusing intently on her make-up. She was almost finished with the lines that gave her "whiskers."

"The test will come at the end of the night when they either stay and help clean up like they've promised to or abandon us," Abby said. She stood in front of a floor length mirror, nude from the waist down, becoming increasingly frustrated as she tried with only marginal success to lace up and secure her corset with bustier. "Will one of you help me with this?"

Claire, finished with her stockings, stepped over to where Abby stood.

"Arms up, sweetie," Claire said, grabbing the fabric and maneuvering it on Abby's torso. "If Mark doesn't stay and clean up, he and his left hand are going to be very well acquainted before I put out for him again after tonight."

Abby raised her arms and Claire slowly pulled and twisted on the lingerie until she succeeded in getting it positioned properly.

"You know, right now you look like such a slut," Claire said.

"I'm not the one dressing as a French maid, wearing fishnet stockings and a skirt short enough for everyone to see my ass," Abby said as she cupped her breasts and assessed the boost given to her cleavage. "Or should I say, actually see your ass, since you and I both know you'll have your panties off before midnight?"

"At least I'm not the one wearing my costume without underwear."

"Actually, that would be me," said Sara. She swung her feet away from the mirror and stood up. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her thong and began pushing it down from her hips as she stepped closer to the bed and her costume.

"You're not going to wear anything under that costume?" Claire asked turning to look at her friend's nude body.

"Nope," Sara replied, pressing her breasts together and pulling on her nipples. "In fact, when I get it on, it'll make you think I grew a second skin." 

Claire and Abby watched with interest as Sara, now completely naked, began to wiggle her way into the black leather suit.

"That doesn't look like it's very comfortable," Claire said.

"It isn't really," Sara said. She rolled the cloth up over her hips. "Even though it has a zipper in the crotch, I pretty much have to strip to pee; it doesn't breathe at all, and it sticks to you." The lips of her pussy disappeared beneath the black cloth. "But it feels pretty good coming off, and I look fucking hot wearing it."

Claire and Abby both stepped into their dresses as Sara pushed her arms into the sleeves of her costume. Both girls finished donning their dresses and began fastening the buttons. Sara stood in front of the mirror arranging her hair under her mask, her one piece costume unzipped all the way to her pubis. 

Claire and Abby both spun side to side checking their appearance in the mirror. Except for the fact that she'd left three buttons undone to expose her bustier, Abby looked very much the colonial genteel young lady. Claire, likewise, left a couple of buttons unfastened, exposing an ample portion of her cleavage to view. Both girls watched with rapt attention as Sara closed the zipper on her costume.

"What do you think?" Sara slowly turned around, raising and lowering her arms and striking different poses to show how skintight the outfit was. Every curve on her body was accented. The cloth perfectly hugged the lips of her pussy and her ass, and her nipples so well defined, it was as though she had merely painted them.

"Wow," Abby said.

"Damn, girl," Claire shook her head. "I'd do you."

Sara laughed.

"I'm hoping Flynn reacts the same way."

"How could he not?" Claire asked. "You're virtually pornographic in that suit."

"And with this zipper," Sara said, "I can be out of it and ready to fuck in a heartbeat." She ran the zipper all the way down and threw her shoulders back just enough to bare her breasts before pulling the suit back into place.

"We all know that once the party gets going good, girls will be pairing off with their boyfriends to make out and have sex," Abby said, "but we need to make sure we remind people that this is a really old, historical house and to be respectful and very careful."

"We can try," Claire said, adjusting the top of her maid costume. "But you know as well as I do, once they get started drinking and groping, all bets are off."

Abby nodded as they opened the door and headed downstairs.

"I still can't believe they agreed to let a handful of us stay here overnight," Sara said.

"Yeah," Claire said as she took hold of the handrail for the stairs. "It ought to make for an interesting evening.

An hour later, the party was close to being in full swing when their boyfriends showed up.

"Look," Claire said, getting her friends' attention. "It's the two musketeers and their... oddly dressed friend. What happened? I thought you guys were going to be the three musketeers."

"That was the plan," said Chris as the six people drew near enough to each other to be heard. "We got to the costume shop and one of the employees had let the other musketeer costume go out. This was all they had left."

Flynn and Mark were dressed as musketeers, while Chris was dressed in what appeared to be a golden yellow uniform of some sort.

"So what are you supposed to be?" Abby asked.

"A Hessian soldier," he replied.

"A what?" she asked.

"They were mercenaries from Germany, hired by England during the American Revolution," he said.

"I think you look handsome," she said, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

"You look ravishing yourself," he said.

"What about me?" Sara asked, pushing forward.

"Wow!" Flynn exclaimed. Accenting his response, he angled his body and manipulated the costume sword at his side, jutting it skyward as though an erection.

Everyone laughed.

"You look great, too, baby," Mark said.

"Why, thank you, kind sir," said Claire as she curtsied, lifting her abbreviated skirt and flashing her panties.

"I'm not wearing any," Abby said, whispering into Chris's ear.

"What?" he asked.

"Panties," she said. "I'm not wearing any panties. So when you want to take me, all you have to do is lift my skirt."

"I look forward to violating you shortly, my lady," he said.

As the evening wore on, as had been predicted, with alcohol flowing, several people became noticeably intoxicated and couples began to get intimate. 

Some were considerably less discreet than others, though. Abby saw one couple off in the corner of a dimly lit room, the girl sitting on her date's lap, his hand buried inside her skirt as they kissed, her top open and her breasts exposed. She walked past Mark and Claire as they headed upstairs and to find privacy in one of the bedrooms. Claire was holding her panties in hand and the front of her maid costume was completely unbuttoned.

Turning the corner at the bottom of the staircase, she saw Flynn and Sara off by themselves. Sara's costume was unzipped to the waist and Flynn was gently teasing the nipple of her exposed breast with his thumb.

Abby began looking for Chris, who'd gone to get them fresh drinks. After circling through the entire bottom of the house, she saw Sara and Flynn again across the room. She went to ask them if they'd seen Chris. Before she realized what was happening, she placed a hand on Flynn's shoulder.

"Have you seen... Oh, I'm so sorry," she said.

Sara's costume was peeled from her upper body and down around her hips, the threshold of her pussy exposed. Awkward though it was for her to do so with the costume so low on her body, she was down on her knees and had Flynn's erect penis in her hands, stroking him and his shaft wet from where her lips had already been.

"If you're looking for Chris," Flynn said, "I think I saw him out back near the gazebo earlier."

Sara looked up at her, intoxicated lust in her eyes.

"If you don't find him, come on back," he said. "The more the merrier."

"Just be ready to ditch the dress," Sara said as Abby walked off.

As she passed through the French doors opening onto the patio, Abby looked over to her right and saw another couple, their costumes spread on the grass, nude and in the middle of having sex. The girl who Abby recognized as Debbie, was straddling her boyfriend and riding his cock, her breasts swaying rhythmically.

Abby took a few steps into the darkness so as not to be too obvious and looked back at the couple. Debbie had a look of bliss on her face as Russell sucked her tits while she rode him.

Abby felt the heat rising in her veins and reached for the top of the bustier to loosen it a bit. She could feel herself getting moist between her legs. She needed to find Chris and get his cock inside her.

Chris came out of the cellar with another bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. The first thing he saw when he turned around was one of his fraternity brothers seated at the table, his girlfriend lying on the table with her legs spread. Her hands were kneading her breasts and pinching her nipples as he feasted on the bounty of her pussy. Chris allowed his gaze to linger only long enough to realize that his brother was naked from the waist down and sporting a throbbing erection. He made his way out of the kitchen with the bottle and glasses.

Making his way through the house, he looked for, but did not see Abby. He did see Flynn, musketeer uniform abandoned, on his knees behind an equally nude Sara, thrusting into her as she rocked back against him.

Turning away from the sight of their sex-in-progress, Chris' attention was diverted by the sound of laughter coming from the top of the stairs. Looking up, he was Claire and Mark headed down the stairs. He noticed that not only was her maid costume open and her breasts unfettered, she no longer had panties on. As his gaze tracked them down the stairs, he couldn't help but notice a red, almost enflamed quality to the flesh of her pussy lips and nipples.

"Like what you see?" Claire asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She raised her skirt and shook her hips, causing her breasts to jiggle as she did so.

"Very enticing," Chris said. "I'm actually looking for Abby, since I doubt the musketeers are much for the habit of sharing."

"Sometimes they need proper persuading," she said, reaching down with her hand to cup Mark's cloth covered cock. As her hand pressed over the fabric, Chris noticed that he must no longer be wearing anything beneath it, for the outline of his resurgent erection was clearly discernible. "I think we saw her outside. It looked like she was headed for the grove of trees."

Chris raised the bottle in a mock salute of thanks and took his leave of them. Passing through the front door, he looked off toward the grove. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw the outline of her form in the shadows. 

It wouldn't make sense to try opening and pouring wine in the dark in a bunch of trees, he thought to himself, so he sat the bottle and the glasses down on the porch and set off towards her.

Abby was in the shadows well removed from the house when she saw him. His back was to her, but the outline of his shape in the soldier's uniform costume was unmistakable. As she stepped very carefully towards him, he turned to face her.

"I've been looking for you," she said, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his neck.

"And I for you," he said, whispering into her ear as he took her in his arms, pulling her close to him.

"I want you," Chris said, whispering into her ear.

"And I want you," she said. "We must hurry, though, before we are found out."

Chris began removing his coat as she began unfastening the buttons at the top of her dress.

His hands were rougher than she remembered them, Abby thought to herself as he cupped her bare ass with one hand and groped her breast. He had her skirt raised, exposing her lower body to the night air. She could feel his erection pressing into her through the cloth of his pants. 

Her dress drawn up around her hips, her bodice open and her breasts exposed, Chris centered his cock in between her legs and thrust upward.

Abby felt his cock penetrate her hot, swollen sex. Their mutual arousal was overpowering, and she felt the almost animalistic urgency of their fucking overtaking her as each of his thrusts lifted her nearly off of her feet.

Chris felt her stumble backward, almost losing her balance, saved only by her back bracing against the tree that towered over them. He reasserted himself between her legs and thrust into her once more, resuming his carnal assault on her sex.

"That's it, my soldier," she panted. "Give me a good fuck..."

"I giff you my cock, my lady," he hissed through pursed lips as he continued to thrust into her.

"Oh, yes," Abby said. "Give me your cock... fuck me... oh fuck me..."

"I can feel your cock swelling inside of me," she said, her voice low, her breath rasping.

"Oh, yeah, baby," Chris said, "I'm getting ready to fill you with my cum..."

"Ohhh... ohhh... fuck me," Abby said. Her breathing was hard, rapid and shallow. "I can feel you... ohhh..."

She dug her fingers into his shoulders as his cock began to spew his seed into her.

"Ohhh... ohhh..." Chris thrust himself hard and full into her, urging the torrent of his semen into her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as her orgasm hit her, her pussy spasming on his cock.

They collapsed against one another, their breathing slowly calming as they slowed and then stopped moving against one another.

"I should go now before you're missed," he said, pulling back from her enough to crush his lips against hers, his tongue desperate to seek hers out.

"You should go now before I'm missed," she said as their mouths parted. 

Almost as quickly as they'd come together, they parted. Chris rapidly tucked himself into his pants and reached down to grab up his jacket. He turned to take one final glance back at her, and she was gone. As he began walking back to the house, he wondered why she would have been worried at all about someone at the party missing her. After all, it wasn't like their friends didn't know they were sleeping together. They'd been watched fucking once before, for crying out loud.

As Abby watched him walk away, she began to gather herself back together, lowering the skirt of her dress and smoothing it. She could feel his semen oozing out of her and beginning to run down her leg. She pulled the bustier closed against her, and then decided against it. She looked up, and he was gone. Leaving her breasts exposed to the night air, she began her trek back to the house.

Walking back to the house, she wondered why he'd felt it necessary to go from her before she was missed. When she'd come outside to find him, more than half of the couples she'd seen had been in the midst of some sort of sexual activity. Why should they have been any different?

Abby stepped up onto the patio. The couple that had been fucking when she came outside was gone. She stepped through the French doors and shut them behind her. A couple lay on the couch naked and spooning, a sheet covering them. She made her way to the stairs and began to ascend them. 

At the top of the stairs, she heard the sounds of sex coming from the nearest room, the door slightly ajar. She paused just outside the door, peeking in. Faint light from a bedside lamp cast a pale glow on the couple. The woman was on her knees on the bed, ass raised in the air and the man behind her was thrusting into her slowly but firmly. Moving on down the hall, Abby pushed gently on the door to the room where she'd put her dress on earlier. Claire lay on the bed with Mark, there nude bodies covered by a satin robe draped over them. Flynn sat in a chair in the corner, Sara astride his cock, facing away from him.

Abby leaned against the doorway, watching the subtle rhythm of her friends moving against one another. 

Claire crawled from under the robe and walked over to Abby. 

"You look like you had a good time outside," she said, running a hand up Abby's belly until her hand encountered Abby's bare breast.

Abby almost jumped as Chris appeared behind her, his arms sweeping around her waist.

"I know I enjoyed it," he said as he nuzzled Abby's neck. 

"Ummm, I did, too," she said, pulling his hands up to cover her breasts.

"You want to come in and join us?" Claire asked, kissing her gently on the lips.

"No," Abby said, reaching behind her to grasp Chris' growing erection. "I think we'll go get out of these clothes and fuck again. We'll see you guys in the morning."

Claire leaned out into the hall and watched them walk away. Turning back into the room, she observed Mark pulling the robe away from his body, his penis standing at attention.




The Hessian's Tale



"Wanna go one more time?" he asked.

Claire responded by walking to the bed and mounting him.

In their room, Abby shed the dress as Chris doffed his costume. She began working on removing the bustier. When he was naked, he walked up behind her, taking her ass cheeks in his hands.

"Come to bed like this," he said. "Leave it on for now."

Abby walked to the edge of the bed and pulled the covers back, then crawled onto it. Before she could move away from the edge of the bed, Chris caught her hips in his hands.

"I want you just like this," he said. Letting go of her with his right hand, he took hold of his cock, aimed it into her pussy, thrust forward and began fucking her.

The next morning, everyone got up slowly, feeling the effects of a hard night. As they began moving around, the old man came into the house, noting that the party had apparently been very successful. 

After everyone had eaten and the final cleaning had been finished, they sat down at the main table to talk for a few minutes with the caretaker.

"So, what are some of the interesting folk stories from around here?"

"Yeah," Claire said, leaning forward in her seat. "Between this house and the town, there has to be some good history here."

"Oh, there are lots of stories to tell," the old man said. He rocked back in his chair and puffed on his pipe. His gaze traveled around the room, his eyes lingering for an uncomfortable moment on Abby. 

"One of the things a lot of people don't know," he said, "is that we had a fair amount of activity here during part of the American Revolution."

"Really?" Mark asked.

"Yes, indeed," the old man replied, nodding his head.

"We're not to far from Trenton, where General Washington conducted his famous Christmas Day attack on the Hessians," he said. "Trenton usually overshadows the fact that we had a detachment of Hessian soldiers garrisoned right here in our town, too. They weren't any more popular here than they were there.

"Just like any groups of people in any war, though," he said, "there were some on both sides that tried to be civil to one another, despite the threats of retaliation or reprisal from their own people." The old man puffed on his pipe, considering his next words.

"Probably the best tale to come out of all that is the legend of the Hessian and the maiden," he said, folding his arms in front of him.

"There was this young Hessian soldier who fell in love with the country and the people here, not unlike a number of his comrades," he said. "There were a number of Hessians that stayed in the colonies and became citizens, you know." Realizing he was digressing from his story, the old man waved his hand in front of him.

"According to the legend, this young man was part of a group of Hessian troops that came through searching this very house one day," he said. "As they were entering the house, he noticed the house master's middle daughter. She was a beautiful young woman, and folks say she'd been betrothed to a young man until he joined the continental army, and that her father broke her heart when he forbade her to marry the young man because he was opposed to the war.

"Anyway, the young woman catches the young soldier's eye, and she notices that he's a handsome young man in his own right," the old man said. "She began sneaking off to try and see the young man, and when her father found out, he was furious. He ordered his daughter to stay away from the Hessian, and pled with the Hessian commander to keep the young man away from his daughter."

"Sounds kind of like Romeo and Juliet," said Sara.

The old man nodded.

"And, like Romeo and Juliet, they refused to be denied their desire for one another. She would go out at night and stand near in the shadows near the large tree in the corner of the orchard by the fence, waiting for him."

"That huge tree that pushes right up against the fence?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, but the tree wasn't so big then as it is now, though," the old man replied, annoyed at the interruption. "Over the course of the next few months, the couple fell in love and began talking of getting married. And then one night, her father noticed her walking toward the orchard. He grabbed his musket, loaded it with shot, and followed her, knowing she must be going to see the young soldier.

"When he got to the orchard, he didn't see his daughter, so much as he heard her," the old man said, leaning forward in his chair. "He heard her in the unmistakable throes of passion and followed the sounds until he found her." 

The old man inhaled on his pipe and then let out a long puff of smoke.

"When he finally saw his daughter," the old man said, "folks say she was standing with her back against a tree, the bodice of her dress and her corset open, breasts exposed, with the young soldier holding her dress up around her waist as he stood there, pants lowered, fully involved in the act of copulation."

"Oh my!" Sara sat forward, smiling at the thought. 

"Her father was beside himself with rage, and without thinking, raised the musket and fired," the old man said. "The blast, presumably intended for Hessian, merely grazed him and actually killed the daughter. The Hessian fell away, stunned and bleeding, and before he could recover or defend himself, the father beat him to death with the butt of the musket."

"Wow," said Flynn, shaking his head. 

"Wow is right," said the old man. "The house master told people his daughter had been mistaken for an intruder in the middle of the night, and out of respect for him, nobody pressed the issue. They buried her in what was then the family cemetery about a half-mile down the road from here. They say his wife never forgave him for her daughter's death.

"The house master, realizing he would be harshly dealt with if the Hessian's found him out, told no one about the dead soldier," the old man said. "He took the body to the far corner of the near pasture, out back by that gazebo, and buried him there. He planted a tree on top of him to help hide the fact, and it was assumed that the Hessian had deserted his unit. Myself, I think a lot of the local people knew what had happened."

"That's so sad," said Sara. "And the story sounded like it was going to end well, too."

"Be patient, I'm not finished," said the old man. "Folks around here say, every now and then, you can see their ghosts wandering around on the grounds here. They say the young woman can be seen waiting down by the trees for her lover, and the Hessian can be found wandering around out back between the barn and the gazebo, lost, unable to determine where he is, trying to find her."

"That's spooky," said Claire as she shook her head slowly.

"And that is the story of the Hessian and the Maiden," said the old man as he stood up and began walking to the kitchen.

"What were there names," Sara said.

"I didn't tell you there names?" the old man asked as he tilted his head, trying to remember.

"No," Claire said. The rest of the group mumbled their agreement. "You just referred to them as the Hessian and the Maiden."

"My mistake," the old man said, pausing as his eyes drifted and came to linger on Chris and Abby. "I apologize. Their names were Kristoff and Abigail."