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Thirteen

By: Hercules_unleashed



'Damn him,' I thought, angrily stomping out as the door slammed shut behind me. Even on holiday he could find something to moan about, maybe its time I started looking for a new Master! Let me explain, by nature I am a very submissive person, perhaps you might even call me a pacifist, under his tutelage I had become his slave, his slut and his whore. 

Whatever his needs it was my duty to pander to them, even to the point of subjugating my own personality. Whenever he wanted something, I had to give it to him, any place and anywhere. He was my Lord and Master, he only had to say the word and I was duty bound to allow my body to be used and abused in any way he wished, and with whomsoever he might wish. Now don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed this usage and abuse of my body.

To look at I am nothing special, five foot nothing, good figure I suppose, certainly a bust that gets me noticed, thirty-six inches, nice and firm, perhaps a little top heavy, suffice to say that if I fell forwards I would have no chance of breaking my nose. Oh, and I never wear a bra. Although I have a rather plain face, I think, what really draws attention is my waist length copper coloured hair, I call it my crowning glory. At twenty-seven, I have had a relatively good life, never having wanted for anything.

My virginity was taken, well to be quite honest I gave it willingly to a forty-one years young uncle, when I was just eighteen and very precocious, at that age I had a good figure, but not too many friends.

The boys at school would hang around me like wasps at a picnic, and sometimes I would even let them feel my breasts, although they were clumsy and fumbling, finesse being way beyond the capacity of their one brain-cell. I had even agreed to give the odd hand job too; fascinated by the way the cream spurted from that little hole at the tip of their cocks.

On these occasions I would go home and lay on my bed stroking my pussy wondering just why I had this compulsion to caress, until one night just before my monthly was due I began to do it even faster and harder. That was when I discovered the joys of masturbation, the elation felt and the satisfaction achieved from this event had been so powerful that the exercise quickly became part of my daily routine.

It was while masturbating that Bert, my uncle, had quietly entered the room to stand watching me. As I came down from my climax I realised he was standing there with his cock in his hand, gently stroking it up and down.

"You left the door open," he had said, "and I heard noises so came to look, do you want me to leave?" he asked.

I remember feeling my face go red a little, but for no obvious reason blurted out, "NO." I lay there with my legs bent; spread wide and breasts heaving like a sixteen-year-old slut. "Would you like me to do something with that?" I couldn't believe I had just said that; Bert was not really my uncle but I called him that, he sorta lodged with me and my mother, although he had his own room I knew that he sometimes got it on with my mum when they thought I was sleeping.

He walked over to me full of confidence; his hard cock still in his hand, but it was soon my hand that held this fat monster, I rubbed it up and down quickly, fascinated by the way the head turned purple just before he exploded all over my breasts. This was great, so much better than those stupid boys at school.

He thanked me, asking if I had enjoyed doing it for him. Telling him yes, as soon as he left the room I started rubbing his cumm into my skin, I had heard that it was good for the complexion. While carrying out this exercise another strange urge had come over me. I had also heard that guys liked their cocks to be sucked, and wondered what it might taste like, so, scooping up a little on the tip of my finger gingerly tasted it, a little salty but otherwise it was okay, so I swallowed some more.

For the next few weeks when my mother had gone out, he would come to my room to watch me masturbate, and then I would make him shoot his cream onto my breasts before scooping it into my mouth when he had gone. I liked the warm feeling it gave me as his hot cumm burst from its single eye to splash onto my soft skin, and sometimes I would masturbate again.

One day he popped back into my room, and seeing what I was doing with his cream asked if I enjoyed the taste, I told him yes and the very next time the curse caught me, he taught me how to suck his cock. It was magnificent, this way I got to swallow all of his cream before it went cold, but I still liked the feel of it on my breasts, it made my nipples all tingly.

Following a period when I had been unwell and stuck in bed for a few days, my mother went away for a long weekend; to see her ailing mother she told me; and Bert agreed to look after me. This weekend I would at last lose my cherry.

Knowing there was no one in the house apart from we two he had entered my room as usual, but this time he drew back the covers, shrugged off his robe and climbed in beside me.

"I shall leave if you wish;" he said softly, "the choice is yours."

Naked he looked awesome, his cock long, fat and hard, like a fence post, I could feel its hardness tight against my thigh in the confines of the narrow bed.

"No," I said breathlessly, "please stay."

We began kissing without any preamble, proceeding to touch one another very quickly; I loved the heat and the silky feel of his hard and throbbing cock, but this time I needed more. My period would be starting in two or three days and I had become extremely horny, more than usual. I had no idea then that my hormones were crying out for me to be fucked.

Until now he had never touched me, not even my breasts, but now it had been different, he seemed more urgent, he filled his mouth with my nipples, sucking and gently biting, it caused a tingly sensation in my pussy. The sensations running through me were incomparable to anything I had previously experienced, Bert was the first man to ever touch me down there, and I nearly went through the roof, knowing that it was not my hand.

We lay there face to face, breathing becoming more shallow, with him stroking me, and my hand wrapped around his cock, I knew this was going to be my first time. I had never had a real hard prick inside me but at this moment in time I badly wanted it to happen, and badly wanted Bert to be the one to take down the last stone from my wall of innocence.

By adjusting my position slightly it became possible for me to rub my already wet sex against the tip of his cock, and by lifting my leg over his hip, I found that I could get the whole head between my now thick lips. It felt really good, and Bert asked if I was sure that this was what I wanted, I replied that I had never wanted anything more than to feel him inside me.

Rolling me onto my back, Bert positioned his body above me and between my now spread legs. Inside I jumped for joy feeling the tip of his hot cock nudging into my pussy; he was slow and gentle, pushing in steadily until meeting the barrier. Telling me this would hurt a little bit he began to put on the pressure. It was hurting and I wanted to tell him to stop, but at the point where I thought that I couldn't take any more he lunged hard, the full length of his hard, thick prick now inside me. 

For a moment, he just laid there, buried deep, whispering that now it would get better, while stroking my face and soon I felt what would quickly become familiar to me, as he began to move that wonderful cock in and out of me with a slow but steady rhythm.

Realising how much I was enjoying this, I lifted my knees high, encouraging him to fuck me hard. This feeling was so very different from masturbating, but the urge to cumm was just the same, and soon I had found myself thrusting up to meet him knowing that I would soon climax.

It wasn't long in coming, and just as I crested the wave Bert gave a yelp, withdrew his cock and splashed his lovely cream all over my belly.

I remember crying afterwards, I was so happy. We continued on like this for about six months, with Bert teaching me much. Then I told him that I needed to find a boy my own age, but it was never the same, they had no idea how to please me. It was then that I stopped looking at boys and started looking for older men, boys just couldn't handle my needs.

Now here I am in Mexico, some eleven years later with a man who had pissed me off just once too often, was I happy? For the time being yes, I revelled in this brief feeling of freedom. A freedom that I would probably have to pay dearly for when I returned to the bungalow.

Initially he was great; he had been exactly what I needed. I had become a spoiled brat, but he saw my potential, and what my body cried out for. During the following months he changed me from being the brat that I had become, to the most obedient and willing slave, becoming my Master and owning me completely. 

We have been together now for nearly nine years, but the last twelve months or so have been a real headache for me, he has changed, nothing pleased him anymore and living with him had become a nightmare.

He had planned this holiday for us in Mexico, a break away from work and our everyday living, but from the outset he had been whining and complaining over the slightest little thing. Now I had had enough of it, and walked out to do my own thing, whatever that might be.  

I had nothing specific in mind; I just needed some breathing space, peace, away from his constant whinging, which was beginning to get me down. Initially I had considered looking for an Internet café, but instead, found a downtown bar advertising Tequila at half price, so decided to take a look at it.

I suppose I had expected the kind of place one sees in the movies, you know, a few tables and chairs, tired and worn down patrons, a drunk or two whose only support was the bar, and sawdust spread on the floor; but the outside belied the interior. There were a couple of almost naked girls dancing in cages suspended from the ceiling, the bar top was marble, disco lights pulsed and flashed, and the music was so loud that that it put conversation almost beyond reach.

The floor was a highly polished hardwood, and young topless waitresses, chosen I thought for their bust size rather than their expertise, roller-skated from table to table taking orders. I selected a table furthest away from the blaring speakers, ordered Tequila, paid, took a sip and looked around the bar room at the other guests. 

Over in one corner there sat a bunch of casual, but well dressed and good-looking guys, drinking and having a laugh. Catching one of them giving me the eye, I looked away but with a smile on my face. I felt kinda naughty doing this without my Master's permission, but I didn't care.

Before my glass became empty, a different girl skated to the table and dropped another while gesturing over her shoulder at the guys in the corner saying that they had sent it over. I picked up the drink, turned towards them and lifting the glass in a toast, throwing the fiery liquid down my throat. 

They cheered as one and the guy who had given me the eye picked up his Stetson and sauntered over, dropping it on the table. Around the crown it was studded with silver rodeo medallions, he smiled as he sat down saying: "everyone knows this hat, so as long as it sits on this table you'll not be bothered by anyone."

"Hi," I replied gaily, "my name is Laura, here on holiday from England, do you ride in the Rodeo?" I asked.

"Yep, I travel all over, and that mixed rabble of semi drunks," he pronounced it 'see my', "is ma crew."

I had never met a real live Rodeo rider before, and the thought that he might always be putting his life on the line sent a thrill right through me, straight down to my pussy.

"You must be real brave to ride in the Rodeo, have you ever been hurt?" I asked.

"Real brave or real stoopid missy, you take your pick, I had more broken bones than I kin count, but I wouldn't change it no ways, always wanted to do it even when I was no higher than blue-grass. Guess I kinda like the danger."  

His drawl was really starting to work on me now, and I felt myself warming to his easy friendliness.

"You're not from Mexico are you?" I enquired.

"Nope, I'm from the Lone Star State, Texas; they call me the Wichitaw kid on account of my havin a little Native American blood in these veins, but I reckon I spilled a mite more than I'd have liked," he laughed.

He waved a hand in the air and gave a whoop, one of the girls skating straight over to our table.

"What kin ah gitcha Wichitaw?" she asked him with a smile.

"Bring us a couple a beers and Tequila Slammers honey," he said, slapping her on the rump before she could get away and running thick fingers through his thatch of straw-coloured hair.

While we waited, I took the opportunity to look at his sun-tanned and weather-beaten face properly; ignoring the various scars, each one of which would probably tell an exciting story in its own right, and took in his eyes. They were of the most beautiful china blue that I had ever seen, tinged with a touch of violet. I saw mischief in those eyes, this guy was a joker, of that I was certain.

The waitress brought the drinks plus a small bowl of salt and a lemon cut into four quarters. I noticed that there were four shots of Tequila, but what the hell, we prepared for the first, downing it immediately, slamming our glasses upside down onto the table. Wichitaw laughed, remarking that I was okay for a girl, and a Limey at that, and gave me a resounding slap on the back that almost lifted me out of my chair.

We continued with the general chitchat as we drank our beers and the second Slammer, until he asked me to come over and meet the crew; I readily agreed and we got up to join them at the other table. Once sat down, Wichitaw introduced me as one heck of a good Limey and I quickly became the focus of attention, although I'm sure that my bra-less breasts had a lot to do with that. It wasn't long before I was throwing back Tequila Slammers alongside the guys and loving every minute as they egged me on

I had easily gotten into the party spirit. These guys were rough, tough and oozing testosterone, but they were also very friendly and treated me like a lady. Not only were they great fun, but they had taken me to there hearts and I enjoyed it to the full.

They were a mixed bunch, some from Mexico, all over the US and one from Canada. I was outnumbered thirteen to one, but I didn't care, they were all lean, mean, tanned and tough, my kind of guys, but above all they knew how to party and I seemed to be the star turn.

A couple of hours later I had become quite merry, even a little pissed, swapping lewd jokes along with the best of them, but still on the right side of being in control and responsible for my actions. Not one of them had laid a finger on me, not even Wichitaw.

However, when one of the guys suggested that we all go back to the Motel and party, a place where we could drink all night, I said 'what the hell,' threw caution out the window and readily agreed.

We all piled into three cars and two trucks, heading off up the road in a convoy, to a Motel some distance outside the city limits and overlooking the soft sands of a Mexican beach. 

Once inside they all seemed to want to use the loo at the same time, although three of them went into the kitchenette to prepare enough food for the fourteen of us. There was not enough seating for everyone, so a few hunkered down on the floor, me along with them, sitting between Wichitaw's legs with my back to him.

Someone put some music on, the beat heavy but lively, kinda sensual, the so solid sound of Santana. Music that I loved; this kind of music never failed to get my juices running. I knew that at some point Wichitaw was going to fuck me, and quite honestly I wanted him so badly that my pussy had been wet for some time. What I hadn't bargained for was what was really going to happen.

We quickly tucked into the excellent tacos and tortilla's, and while eating, the beer and Tequila continued to flow freely. The crew were really friendly and very attentive making me feel very much at ease and comfortable with them.

However, when we had finished eating, their true agenda became all too obviously clear, I knew in a heartbeat that I would be the desert; I was going to get gang banged. This held no fear for me, my Master having insisted on such a course of action on several occasions. This time was different, there would be no abuse of my body, just usage, these were all nice fellers, and as the revelation hit me I realised that I wanted it to happen.

The fellow sitting on my left turned my face toward him kissing me voraciously, open-mouthed, tongue probing deeply, naturally I responded willingly. Simultaneously the one on the right twisted around to cup my breasts, gently squeezing and thumbing my nipples into an erect state very quickly.

As usual I became instantly aroused, although this was in some part due to my having been turned on by the rugged Wichitaw, I did feel a little uncertain amongst thirteen tough and horny young men. The conversation had dropped to zero now, as Wichitaw assured me quietly that no one would hurt me, adding that they only wanted to fuck me, and that all bets were off if anyone even thought of causing me harm.

What else could I do, there was no way out of that Motel without their co-operation, so I just smiled sweetly and said, "help yourself, I'm game if you are, there's plenty enough of me for everyone."

Whoops and cheers resounded around the room, with one of the guys adding that I was a great sport. From that point I was butt naked in seconds flat, they quickly stripped me of the only two garments that I wore, my top and my skirt, just like any other day I wore nothing else.

Soon there were two mouths feeding from my breasts, sucking hard and biting on my nipples, as yet another slid exploring hands along the inside of my hot thighs towards my billiard ball smooth, I waxed regularly, and already thickly swollen pussy. Although still having my mouth tongued, I managed to sneak a glance at him, seeing the mixed look of lust and pleasure on his face. I also noticed the very prominent bulge in his shorts; he had become good to go.

The guy kissing me broke away, and Wichitaw turned my head towards his crotch; quickly turning my body I unzipped him, to draw out a very handsome piece of hot, and very hard cock meat; from a few inches away I could feel its heat against my face.

It was bigger than my Master's, being some eight inches in length and quite fat around. Gently I stroked, squeezing from the base to draw my fisted hand up the length of this beautiful cock toward the head, feeling the vein pulsing in my hand and being rewarded by the thick, creamy and surprisingly large bead of pre-cumm.

Putting out my tongue I deliberately and slowly licked it off, scooping the tasty titbit into my hungry mouth while looking directly into those gorgeous blue/violet eyes.

His moan was clearly audible as I went to work on this showcase of a cock, licking it all over from the tip to its base, savouring the size. Up and down the length, my tongue pleasured it, paying particular attention to the sensitive part at the base of the head.

I could have worshipped this beautiful monster for hours on end without even putting it in my mouth. One hand softly stroking was wrapped around its unbelievable thickness, while the other gently massaged his heavy sac. Fingers became entwined in my hair, drawing my mouth to the now purple and angry looking head.

I surmised that he had not had sex nor even masturbated in a long while, as I took as much of his gorgeous cock meat into my hungry mouth as possible in this awkward position. Satisfied now, I ravished it with such intensity that my guess proved to be pretty accurate, as momentarily freezing, he gave out with a huge moan before pumping a whole barrel load of thick, hot, if a little salty, creamy sperm into my waiting throat


Thirteen Pussies Tease...: Vol. 1



Thirteen Pussies Tease and Fuck Me: Vol. 1

My eyes opened but I couldn't see. I felt cold and I knew that I was naked. As I tried to move I felt air rush past my body, past my balls and ass, and I realized that my hands and legs were tied. I was suspended by ropes, hanging by my hands and ankles, my legs held open by the ropes with my back toward the ground. 

As she whispered I felt her breath in my ear: "I bet you want to come in front of all these beautiful ladies." The room was silent. But I could smell pussy, I could smell sex. The salty smell of pussy that makes you want to wrap your mouth around a cunt and suck until it spurts thick girl cum into your throat. Then walking…shuffling of feet, people getting up. I couldn't move. 

Then I heard, "Do you want to come for me?" In the other ear, "Come for me." The intoxicating perfume wafted around me as they walked by, woman after woman, "I want you to come hard."

"I want to make you come." It was confusing and unreal, but I was there, blindfolded. I couldn't see but I knew the light was on, and very bright; light pierced the blindfold. 

I heard metal scraping across the floor, and then a "click." It grew warm between my legs, the huge light that they had slid across the floor shone on my balls and cock and ass. It was warm, and getting hotter. I knew they were looking at my growing member. I didn't mean for it to harden but with the heat, almost unpleasant on my balls, I couldn't help myself. The hot lamp was between my legs, almost pressed against my shaft. It was close to burning me…pain! Then a soft hand touched me on my shoulder. Then another, and another…I was covered in smooth hands, rubbing me with oil, on my nipples, on my stomach and ass, but never touching my cock. I knew the purpose was to get me harder and harder until I would want to explode. They slapped my wet nipples and pinched them, still rubbing, teasing. Precum was dribbling from my tip, I could feel it slide down my dick. And the hands stopped.

"Do you want to come yet?" she blew into my ear, nibbling and biting it. "Do I smell good? Do you want to ram your tongue into my puffed up, hot pussy?" And I couldn't keep my mind straight. I replied to all of their teasing whispers, "I need to come right now! Help me come!" And then laughing, and more teasing, and "Awwww does your little cock need to spurt his white goo?" 

And then I heard, "He's ready." I thought finally, these women will give me release. They took off the blindfold. About a dozen naked women stood around me. They were beautiful, and young. They were all very tall and had bright red hair and perky medium sized tits. Each had pierced, hard nipples and as I looked at their faces I realized that they were as turned on as I was. Then one of them, the one in charge, said "Ok ladies, let's show him." And they all turned around, lined up in front of me, and bent over. They grabbed their ankles and spread their long, white legs, revealing their dripping pussies, clear drips running down the insides of their legs. The head one carried a black bag with her and walked to the first bent over woman. She took from her bag a large, red jelly butt plug and said, "Wait just a minute, I have to prepare him first." 

She walked teasingly over to me, between my legs, and took out a piece of twine. She looked into my eyes and caressed my balls. She grabbed my balls and pulled them down, and began wrapping the twine around my balls tightly. "What are you doing?" I blurted out. "Just be patient. You'll see." She wrapped tighter and tighter, and I could feel my scrotum being squeezed hard by the string. "Did I do something wrong? Could you stop doing that?" I didn't understand, but she had finished and tied it off. It was tight, and it hurt, but it made me want to fuck the hell out of all of them, which was the point of the string. She flicked my balls once and said, "That ought to do nicely." I winced.

She went back to the spread-legged girls. She dribbled some lubrication from a bottle onto the first one's asshole, and then began working the red jelly butt plug into her ass. She moaned quietly, with pleasure and pain. Each girl got a plug in her asshole, and now they were moaning and I could hardly take the enticing sound of twelve hot red-headed women moaning with sexual pleasure. She then attached a wire to each of the ass plugs, and at the end of the wire was a knob with a light. She told the girls to turn around and look at me all tied up, wanting to come, but the string keeping my balls from releasing the jizz. She then turned the knob and a little red light lit up. 

The girls wiggled their cute asses with delight for a few seconds until she turned the knob and the red light went off. Then again, and again, in short intervals, the big plugs vibrating harshly inside their asses. Each girl then took a small vibrator and put it all the way inside her pussy, so that only the wire hung out. They encircled me, wanting my cock, but not touching it, just staring and tightening their ass cheeks as the head woman turned the knob up and down. 

"He won't come until we untie the string, so do as you wish with his cock now." And then all of them were on top of me. One sucked on my tongue, her soft lips working up and down it like it was a cock. One played with my left nipple while another sucked and flicked her tongue against the right one. My balls were broiling with jizz waiting to climb up my dick, but it couldn't happen with that little insignificant piece of string around my nuts. I felt lips curl around my hard-on, and the wetness was enough to make moan. I didn't want to moan, it was embarrassing. 

She was sucking now, working her lips and hot tongue up and down my pole. Someone was flicking my nuts gently from beneath me, and I felt a wet finger press against my asshole. It pulled away, got wetter, and then slid in. I thought that was enough to throw me over the edge and come in spite of this fucking piece of string. That would fuck up their little plan. So I tried, I pumped my cock in and out of her little fuck hole of a mouth. All I could do was thrust with my hips, any other movement was impossible. But I couldn't do it.

I heard "BZZZZZ!!!" and I saw them wiggle again, the one in control had both of the vibrators buzzing in their little asses and pussies. "That's right ladies, I turned them both on full power. And I'm not turning them off until I come just from watching you all torment our little tied up man." They all wanted to make me come, they began to come themselves after half a minute of constant pussy and ass vibrators. They wanted to taste my cum and swallow it all. Those horny little bitches.

One by one I could hear them coming. They rubbed their clits and played with me, spanking me, sucking every part of me, my toes, my nipples, my ass. It felt like a hundred mouths and hands. They squeezed my aching balls and rubbed their pussies on me. One rubbed her pussy on my hip bone by putting one leg over my stomach and gyrating her pussy all over my side. Her moans got louder and I felt her pussy vibrate on me as the warm cum squirted onto my stomach. 

They lowered me to the ground which felt good, but I was pinned down by twelve voraciously hungry women. One of them immediately sat on my face, rubbing her pussy into my eager mouth. And then she told me to suck her asshole. When I didn't immediately she grabbed my balls and squeezed so hard that I thought I would come in pain right then. I stuck my tongue in her ass and felt the end of the butt plug vibrate on my tongue. She released pressure from my balls, but still squeezed painfully. I felt her asshole tighten around my embedded tongue as she dripped gobs of cum from her vibrating pussy. 

I looked down and watched a spread-legged girl ease her pussy onto the head of my cock, and then lower herself quickly, my full dick sliding into her slick pussy. I felt the vibrator against the front of my cock, and she stayed like that, not moving up and down. She had all the motion from the vibrator she needed, she just needed a big penis to fill her up and stretch her pretty little pussy lips so she could cum. And indeed she did. She bucked on top of me and squeezed my dick between her thighs. Her pussy contracted and released until my balls were covered with her thick juices. 

After every one of them had come at least once, the head woman said "Enough!" And immediately they all lined back up in front of me. Some were on the verge of coming and had to stand still and let the vibrators inside them tease them, since they couldn't play with their clits. Some had come too many times, and it was painful to have such big plugs lodged inside their butts. But they stood there, silently.

The head woman walked between my legs and caressed me. I was afraid, but she told me as I was lying on the concrete ground that I would appreciate this in about thirty seconds. She squatted, revealing her wet pussy. The other girls were incredible, but this one was by far the hottest, wettest one. Her perfect tits were covered with oil and her dark smooth skin shone as she slid her hands over her breasts and pinched her nipples. She squatted over my cock and looked at me seductively. Her lips parted and her eyes looked into mine, until they rolled back in her head with pleasure. "I haven't come yet, and I really need to," she whispered to me. 

The head of my cock pushed into her, and she stayed there, with just my tip inside her, licking her lips, and moving back and forth. All of the fast-paced rubbing and licking and sucking from the other girls had turned into this slow, seductive woman, with my head just inside her oozing, beautiful pussy. She lowered herself slowly, my cock sliding into her slick, coated cunt. She moaned, and got into a rhythm, sliding up and down my hard shaft. "Does that feel good?" she asked. At the time it just hurt how much I wanted to come, so I didn't really know. But I answered, "Yes." She climaxed at that moment, slowly sliding up and down. She ground her ass into my thighs in circles, with my prick all the way up her, while she came over and over again. The cum squirted from her pussy at first, then came out in little gushes, in a rhythm. All over my tied balls. 

Finally she untied my cock, after she had climbed off me. She told me, "You're going to come now." She spread her ass cheeks apart, and slid her finger into it after salivating all over her finger. She spit on my cock for lubrication. I knew that the slightest stimulation against my cock would cause me to spurt. I could have rubbed it against her leg and ruined her fun, but I decided to wait, because it would be so much better inside her tight hole. 

She knew I would come as soon as she touched my cock as well. So she was not slow about this, she slammed her asshole down onto my cock so that I could be all the way inside her ass. I felt the cum spin around in my balls and bolt up my angry cock, up into her stomach in one big load. I rammed inside her ass, over and over again. I grabbed her upper thighs with my hands and rammed her ass down onto my dick. It hurt her. She yelped and tried to resist. She didn't expect this. I pulled out, still gushing jizz, and shoved my prick in her mouth and told her to suck it, as I squeezed her tits threateningly. 

he obeyed, and I shot white gobs into her mouth, and of course I made her swallow every bit of it. When I was finally done, after about twenty seconds, I had her suck me off gently until I was done with her. I was untied now, and she belonged to me. I tied her up in the suspension ropes and raised her, her sore ass and pussy held open by the ropes. I licked her pussy clean and saw jizz oozing out of her asshole. And then it started again. Only this time, the twelve girls were in my control, and so was she. It was time for revenge. I found the biggest butt plug I could and stretched her asshole with it until...

To Be Continued...



Thirteen Steps



"Oh shit!" my lover gasped, as he heard the footsteps coming up the steps. "I thought you said your husband was out of town!"

I collapsed, laughing. His huge cock that I was so fond of shrank instantly. It almost looked like my husbands' like that. Unlike his though, it would grow quite a bit bigger, with the right encouragement. Nine and a half inches at full mast. I know, because I measured it. My husband wasn't lacking, but his not quite seven inches just couldn't compete.

"Don't panic, baby. The hubby is three states away, busy making money to keep me in the style I deserve. That's just Wilfred."

"Who the fuck is Wilfred?" he asked, watching the door closely.

"Wilfred is our ghost. He's harmless. I'd tell you about him, but I've got something else on my mind just now. I'll tell you when we're done."

I dove down, licking and sucking with enthusiasm, loving the way it felt as it grew to the point I almost couldn't keep it in my mouth. I still couldn't deep throat him, but I was working on it.

When he was as hard as he was going to get I switched ends, getting on my knees and wiggling my ass.

He wasn't exactly gentle, ramming his monster into me quickly, but this wasn't our first go round of the night, and I was more than lubricated. I screamed, beat the bed with my hands, squealed as he mauled my tits, twisting the nipples as he got closer to his eruption. He fucked me through three orgasms before he blew. Despite it being the third time tonight, he filled me to overflowing. We fell down on the bed together, and I rolled him on his back, and did what I called 'clean up duties'. When his cock was shiny and clean, I lay back, resting my head on his stomach.

Damn it all, if he was fifteen years older and had any money, my hubby would be history so fast archaeologists would have a hard time finding him. That was a lie. I loved my husband, At least I thought I did. These last few months had me rethinking that. How could I love someone and still betray him so badly? Still working that out.

But my boytoy was in college and broke, pursuing an English degree. He had dreams of being a teacher. Lots of bucks there, I'm sure. Nope, he was just a fuck toy, plain and simple. I'm sure sooner or later I'd get tired of him and his equipment. But I had a taste now, and I knew I would be on the prowl for a replacement as soon as he left. 

He toyed with my hair while I blew hot air across his cock, giggling when it twitched. I might just get another ride out of him tonight.

"Who the fuck is Wilfred?"

"This house is a hundred and five years old. Wilfred was the original owner. He built this monstrosity for his wive and the thirteen kids they ended up with. Unfortunately, his wife was fucking around on him, and she and her lover heard him coming up the steps on a night he was supposed to be out of town. Known for his bad temper, she panicked, grabbed a shotgun and blew his head off, just as he reached the top of the stairs. If you peel off the new wallpaper we installed a few years ago, you can still see the blood spatter on the original woodwork. One of the oldest children heard the noise and discovered them. His testimony led to them both getting hung. Wilfred's buried in the family graveyard at the top of the hill behind the house. No one really knows where they buried his wife or her lover. Right after that people started hearing the steps, but could never find anybody, so legend has it that Wilfred keeps climbing those stairs at the same time every night, hoping for a better ending. It's been documented for the last ninety-three years, and he's never hurt anybody."

I keep forgetting how young he was. He listened like a kid at a campfire while the counselors told ghost stories. "Doesn't it creep you out?"

I shrugged. "It's creepy the first few times, but you get used to it. I hardly ever think about it anymore. He was actually company when hubby wasn't around, until I found you. Josh is Wilfred's great-grandson. He resembles Wilfred, especially when he sports facial hair.

I don't like the way it feels, so I make him stay clean shaven."

"Your husband must be a first class pussy, the way you boss him around."

I had to giggle again. The only thing big about Damien(Yes, Damien)is his cock, sprouting out of a slender body, five-nine and a hundred forty-five pounds. I did a side-by-side comparison in my mind, and giggled again. Josh was six-one and two hundred five pounds, very, very little of it fat. He's an excellent lover, if he just had another two inches I would have never strayed. It would be very, very, very ugly if he ever found out. And at the very least, I'd be looking for a new home.

"He's not a wimp, honey, he's in fact a strong and virile man, who could probably kill you without breaking a sweat. That's why I make absolutely sure he's never in the same state when we get together. He just does what I ask because he loves me. And trust me, if he doesn't want to do something, no force on earth can make him. But enough about him, ready to go again? You haven't done my ass yet, and it's a little jealous."

I'd been stroking him lightly while we talked, pausing for a long, slow lick now and then. When I said 'ass' he got iron hard. Soon as he had me loosened up with the butt plug, he fucked the shit out of me, literally.

The next morning we showered together, going back to bed for another round. Then we went back to the shower, where I ended up blowing him. I swear, I think he was getting hard again when I gave him a hundred dollars for gas money and sent him back to the dorms. Hey, I wasn't paying him to fuck me, but I was grateful, and college guys are always broke.

I sighed as I stripped the bed, opening the windows to get the smell of sex out. I liked the smell, but I doubt Josh would, especially since he didn't cause it. As usual after my lover left, I started feeling guilty. I should end it while I'm ahead, and safe from discovery. Without a doubt, if he ever found out, the situation would end in 'D' words. Divorce if I was lucky, death if I wasn't. I'd seen Josh lose his temper twice in his life, and neither time was pretty.

The first time occurred about two years after we got married. We'd stopped at a light. There was a bus stop on that corner. It was pouring down rain, and three big guys were pushing a young girl out into the downpour, laughing like crazy. Josh was out of the car before I knew it. He helped the girl up, they'd pushed her down that time and she landed in a puddle.

She was almost hysterical and Josh soothed her while the boys, late teens at least, continued to laugh.

"Miss, would you like us to take you home, or at the very least to another bus stop? Or would you prefer we stay until your bus arrives? I'm sure these gentlemen(the sarcasm heavy in his voice as he said gentlemen)would be happy to share the cover with you."

The young guys had obviously been drinking, and it made them brave. "Fuck off, asshole, before we have to teach you not to mess with the Hidden Valley Romeos."

Josh actually laughed. "What kind of name is that? It sounds like it would belong to a gay boy band. Is that it, you wanted to share a romantic interlude with each other and didn't want her to see it? Relax, being a queer isn't that bad these days. I'm sure your parents still love you."

They were so stunned they didn't know what to say at first. Then the anger kicked in. One pulled a knife, and I cringed as it snapped open.

"You just fucked up, dickhead. You're gonna have to pay for that. Gimme your money, and if it's not enough we'll take it out in trade with your ol' lady. She looks hot."

"Josh had been standing there with a half-grin on his face until he mentioned me. Before anyone could react, he slapped one, bring his hand down instead of across, the pop extremely loud, blinding the man temporarily. Josh just kept moving, shooting a side kick out, dislocating the kneecap of a second, leaving only the guy with the knife.

"Take your best shot, pussy boy. I'm gonna take that little blade away from you, use it to whittle out your ass so I can get my hand inside. Then I'm going to jam it so far up you you'll taste the shit coming out of your throat. Now would be a good time to run."

He'd taken off his jacket, and had wrapped it around his arm. Then he started for the boy. Just before he got to him the boy threw down the blade and ran by him. Josh had timed it right, and just as he cleared the cover he got a tremendous kick in the ass. Bladeboy slid through a puddle, face down, getting soaked. He didn't look back for his friends as he ran away. They had gotten up, and were hobbling away as fast as they could. He stepped in front of them, pointing at the girl.

"She has my name and number. One more repeat of the bullshit we just went through, and you'll never, ever make that mistake again, because you'll be dead. Now crawl back under your rock before a predator finds you and eats you for the worms you are."

I was still shaking as we waited until the bus picked up the girl. "Don't ever do anything like that again! You could have been killed!"

He actually laughed. "There was a better chance of me being struck by lightning than those idiots hurting me. They were drunk, and stupid. It didn't exactly make them dangerous, unless they would have pulled a gun."

Curiosity got the better of me. "What would you have done if they'd pulled a gun?"

There was no emotion at all in his voice as he adjusted the rear view mirror. "Why, I'd have shot them, of course."

I had forgotten because he never flashed it, but he had a conceal carry permit and always carried a pistol. He'd been in the Army, and when he got out he spent four years in a private security outfit over there, saving every dime to start his company. To put it bluntly he'd seen and learned a lot. I suddenly quit worrying, there was nothing he couldn't handle. It was just hard to reconcile the clean shaven man in a crisp suit with the pictures I'd seen from his time over there, in dirty body armor holding a weapon, a scowl on his bearded face. I should have. But hey, he was just an administrator, he left the rough stuff to the professionals, or so he told me.

The second time his anger came out was at a pool party the neighbors were having. I had on a pretty daring bikini, hey, I was proud of my body. I worked really hard to get it to where it was. I'd had a few over my limit and was a little flirty, and a guest from out of the neighborhood got the wrong signal. When he got aggressive I snapped at him.

"If you don't stop this shit right now, I'm going to scream for my husband, and he'll come over and fuck you up! Back off!" I must have gotten a little loud, because people were looking at us. 

It embarrassed him, and he lashed out. "You slut! Rub up against me all day, lead me on, and when it comes time to prove up you want to scream for hubby? Fuck you!" He grabbed my top, yanking it off, laughing the whole time.

Josh just seemed to appear, grabbing the guy and slinging him. We all heard the splash, but the women were trying to get me covered up, and the guys were ogling my boobs, so no one was paying attention to the pool until a woman screamed.

"Get him out! Quick, before he kills him." My breasts were instantly forgotten, the sight of Josh standing in about four feet of water, smiling, holding the man under as he thrashed and bubbled. It took three men to pull him off enough to let the asshole breathe. The party was over, the only reason he didn't press charges when he could talk again was because if he did, I'd swear out warrants for sexual assault, and assault and battery.

It was a quiet ride home. We were almost there when I worked up the nerve to ask if would have really killed him. His answer sent chills up my spin. "Yes. And Cora, I think it would be a good idea if you never wear that bikini again."

It was in the trash the next day.

.........

I didn't mean for it to happen. Famous last words, I know. Josh had been gone two weeks, and I was getting a little stir crazy sitting at home. Penny called me up, wanting to go out, have a few drinks, maybe dance a little. She was in the same boat I was, her husband traveled, a lot more than Josh. I knew what she did, and warned her that sooner or later she was going to get caught, but she'd just laugh and say Henry was so in love with her if she ever did get caught, his forgiveness was a given. We'd socialized a few times with them, and I got the vibe that Henry wasn't the forgiving sort. Whatever though, it wasn't my life.

Lately she'd developed the habit of driving to the next town over and cruising the bars that catered to college students. There was a pretty big university there, and to say the least, it was a target rich environment. After making it clear, we were staying in town, I agreed to meet for dinner and a few drinks.

I might have overdressed a bit, but I had been cooped up in the house, and thought I might as well look good. I even wore my shortest skirt, with thigh highs. A bra and panty set that was risque even for me, and I was all set.

We were to meet at a local hotel that had one of the best restaurants in the area. She smirked when I strolled in, looking me over.

"Bitch. If I had known, I'd have slutted up a little more. I look like your mother compared to you."

I took in the short red dress, the ton of cleavage she was showing, the yards of leg going down to four inch heels. If she looked like my mom, I had a whore for a mother.

The meal was excellent, the bottle of wine we had making it even better. When it was over, I thanked her for getting me out of the house and prepared to leave.

"Oh no, missy, we're going into the bar and have a proper drink or two, and take in the beefcake. And don't worry, I'll play nice, and we'll leave alone."

An hour and three really strong drinks later, I was feeling really good. The band started, and the 'gentlemen' started asking us to dance. Why not, I thought, it's just dancing, in public. What harm could it be.

We danced, most of the fast ones and all of the slow ones. I couldn't tell you how many boners rubbed against me, or how many times I had to remove hands from my ass. After two hours, it was just easier to let them stay there. 

There was a group of college students there. They looked so out of place I asked what they were doing. Penny laughed.

"Hunting."

I was just buzzed enough to not understand. "Hunting what?"

Penny laughed harder. "Cougars."

.........

One man was getting persistent, and a little too handsy. I tried to be polite, but he kept pushing. I finally told him I was waiting on my boyfriend, and he laughed.

"You've been in here two hours with your buddy. There is no boyfriend. Let's quit pretending, get a room, and do what you came here for."

I slapped him. I didn't plan it, it just happened. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. The band had stopped, and the slap was pretty loud. Everyone looked, and a few laughed.

He was beyond pissed, and was reaching for me. I remember thinking it wasn't going to end well, when three young men inserted themselves between us. The smallest stood in the middle, right in front of me. Apparently he was the leader. The other guys looked like football players, big and mean.

"No means no, asshole. Run along now, I'm sure your mother is probably wondering where you are, out past your bedtime and all. Go home and let her tuck you in."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but the guys just grinned at him, and he spotted management making their way over, so he left. They intercepted him, walking him to the door and wishing him a good night. He took the hint.

"My heroes!" I said, giggling. I gave the two big guys a large kiss on the cheek, and the little one got one square on the lips. They started to leave but I stopped them, ordering them a round and insisting they sit with me. Penny, seeing the beefcake, dropped the guy she was chatting up and came back to the table.

To shorten the story, the drinks flowed, the music played. I danced with all three, but the little guy got my attention. I felt it poking into me during a slow dance. As it continued to grow, I stepped back. He just laughed and steered me to the darkest part of the floor. When we were as private as possible, he took my hand and placed it on the front of his pants. I was drunk enough to stroke it a few times, thinking it couldn't possibly be real. In the meantime, he had his hand slid under my skirt, rubbing my ass, slipping his hand over my thong, before he slid a finger inside me. I almost came, right there on the dance floor. It took all I had to remove his hand and lead him back to the table. Penny had a smirk on her face. She stood as I reached the table, handing me my purse.

"Time to go."

I thought we were leaving, but she headed towards the elevators. Seems she had reserved a room while I was dancing. The boys went right along with us.

Forty minutes later we were all naked. Penny was being double teamed by the big guys, and I was screaming as my boytoy filled me deeper than I'd ever thought possible. Penny and the boys actually stopped and watched for a few minutes. When he slid almost all the way out her eyes went wide.

I went in and out of counciousness, overcome by the feelings of pure lust. Something felt different, and I opened my eyes. One of the big guys was pounding me, while Penny was getting stuffed by my guy. They took turns screwing us for almost four hours, before they thanked us for a good time, and left.

We were a fucked out mess, but I had never been so sexually sated in my life. Penny managed to stagger over and flop into bed with me.

"I need to cuddle," she said, spooning up to me. I woke up five hours later, Penny wrapped up in my arms. I actually had her breasts in my hands. I started to pull away, but we were so covered with cum we had stuck together.

I separated from her slowly, hating the feeling. Then I went into the shower, turned the hot water on, and sat there, crying my eyes out. When I finally calmed down, I dressed, and woke Penny. When she staggered out later I had a pot of coffee on the table. She sat and sipped for a few moments, before she looked at me.

"Last night was a mistake, Penny. I don't blame you, well, not much anyway, but it can never, NEVER happen again. I love my husband, and don't want to lose him. We're to never talk of this, understood?"

She nodded, obviously thinking. "I agree, and he'll never hear anything from me. I rented the room, so there is no trail leading back to you. Tell your husband you went out with me for a few drinks, in case someone saw us. We ended up having too much to drink, and if he presses, tell him you spent the night here to avoid a drunk driving charge. I'll say this and then I'll shut up. I saw how much you got into it last night. Man, that boy was hung! You say you won't do anything like this again, but I know how big the temptation will be. If you decide to continue, be very careful. Call me if you need a cover story, and I'll ask the same favor from time to time."

I wasn't really comfortable with that, but she kind of had me over a barrel. We did the walk of shame to our cars in our wrinkled clothing. I took another long shower when I got home, and called Josh, desperate to hear his voice. He was happy to hear from me. I apologized for not talking to him last night, telling part of the truth, that I'd had drinks with Penny, and was a little buzzed when I got home, and went right to sleep. There was a few seconds of silence.

"Cora, I won't presume to dictate who you're friends with. But I have a bad feeling about Penny, and I've learned to trust my instincts. Watch out for her, I have a feeling she isn't the kind of friend you need."

I felt a moment of blind panic. If he was that perceptive, how could I hide what I'd done from him? We talked about what we'd do when he come back, he was taking a week off. He suggested a little vacation somewhere warm. I was all for it, thinking it would be a good idea to get out of town for a while.




Thirteen Steps



When he came back the next week I was really careful to be exactly the same as I'd always been, which was lucky, because I always tried to destroy him with sex every time he was gone for a week or more. I worried I might feel a little loose, but it had been eight days, and apparently I felt the same. We went to the Bahamas for four days, and I got a really nice tan, especially my upper body, as the beach was designated topless. Josh always seemed to enjoy looking at my girls, and the fact that others were looking always turned him on a little bit.

"It's like waving a large steak in front of a starving man, then feeding him a peanut butter sandwich. They can look and lust, but I'm the only one that gets to touch."

I flashed back, remembering three sets of hands fondling them, pulling and licking both nipples at the same time, and flushed. He thought he'd embarrassed me and apologized.

"Take me back to the room!" I hissed, before burying my tongue in his ear. "The girls need handled, right now! And Josh, they need a firm handling, understand?"

It was kind of embarrassing being on the beach the next couple of days, the bites and bruises on my breasts plain to see, as well as one on both cheeks of my ass, but it was worth it.

.........

Four months went by before he had to travel again, this time for three weeks. I was bored by the second week, but determined to be a good girl when there was a knock at my door.

Penny was there, with Brad, Bill, and Damien. My eyes went wide.

"Relax, honey. I just need to borrow your spare bedroom for a while. It's a lot safer than using a motel room. No trail. Why don't you take a drive or something? I promise I'll clean up when I'm done."

She held my secrets, so I reluctantly agreed. Even took the drive she suggested, staying gone for two hours. They were still there when I returned, so I slipped into the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. I was on my second glass when Damien walked in, naked, his huge cock swinging as he walked. "Surprise!" he grinned, then kissed me on the cheek before burying his head in the refrigerator, pulling a bottle of juice out. He poured a glass and sat beside me for a few minutes, making small talk, before he took my hand, guiding it down until it was wrapped around his cock.

Twenty minutes later I was naked and bent over the sofa, while he pounded me from behind. I felt the sofa shift and opened my eyes. Brad had come in and sat, his still wet cock inches from my face. I had completely surrendered by then, so I opened my mouth and took him in. By the time Damien was done he was rock hard, and they switched places.

"Clean," he demanded, holding my hair. I slurped and licked until he was all shiny. I could hear him laugh.

"From now on, you'll do this every time we're done. Understand? Then you'll thank me for fucking you. Got it?"

Brad wasn't Damien, but he still felt good. I believe I would have agreed to anything right then.

"Thank you, Damien, for making love to me."

He grabbed my hair, giving it a yank. "You're not listening. We don't make love, we fuck. And thank my cock, not me."

The humiliation was turning me on, so between moans, I got it out.

"Thank you, Mr. Cock, for fucking me. I really enjoyed it."

That must have pushed Brad over the edge, because he flooded me, then pulled it out and presented it to my face. "Clean it up, and thank me."

Blushing, I complied. I heard a noise and looked up. Bill and Penny were staring at me.

"I wondered where everyone went. God, Cora, what a slut you've become."

I flamed red, then Bill walked up, shoved his cock in my mouth, and said "My turn." When he was hard he bent me back over the sofa. When he was done, I had to clean and thank his cock while the others laughed.

After that, I was totally hooked.` Still we were very, very, careful. Penny had a minivan, and she would drive while the guys crouched down, not getting up until the garage door closed, even if it was dark. And I made sure I stopped playing at least three days before he came home, so I would feel "normal".

It had been almost a year, and we were beginning to get comfortable. Mistake. Big Mistake.

.........

The older I got the less I liked Halloween. I think it was because every time it rolled around, it reminded me that Cora and I were still childless. We were getting close to the window closing, she was thirty-four now, and it looked like it wasn't going to happen. One of the biggest reasons, besides really, really wanting to be a parent, that it sucked was because the house and farm was tied up in a perpetual trust. It went to the oldest son to the oldest son. The only exceptions were if a death occurred before children were conceived, or if they had no sons. Then it automatically went to the second oldest son, and then to his heirs. It looked like my nephew Bob was going to end up with it if things didn't change. The trust also voided community property rules, in case of divorce. The farm could never leave the family.

My business had been growing steadily, and I was almost to the point of not having to travel. I was glad, because Cora always seemed a bit off every time I came home. In fact, the last few months she seemed to change. I'd catch her staring into space and smiling, and when I'd ask, she would say it was nothing and continue with what she was doing.

In fact, this was my last long trip. I was working with a movie company, partly as a security consultant, partly as a weapons master. I'd become fascinated with guns thanks to my time with Mike and Harry. It took some doing, but I even had the AK-47 and the shotgun I'd used while i was overseas. I had so many weapons now I had to get a Collectors' permit. My two partners and I had a consulting company, specializing in private security. I was the tech guy, they were the hands on people, often providing short term security personally. Mike and Harry looked kind of mean and scary, so they had little problem escorting clients.

I'm probably the only one in our company that knew that they really were mean and scary. Both had spent eight years in the military before 'the incident', as they called it. I never knew what it was, but rather than going through a bunch of unpleasantness, they were allowed to resign with full honors and benefits. They immediately went to work for the biggest private security outfit around, making five times what the government paid them.

I got to know them by accident, a kind of right time right place situation, and I helped them out of a jam. I was a tech geek, and they befriended me, making me work out with them until I was pretty proficient in a lot of things the military didn't exactly teach you. Most of my attitude in later life stemmed from my time with them. When my hitch was up they talked me into working with them. I really had no prospects back home, and the money was fantastic. 

For the next four years, I spent large blocks of my time in sheer boredom, and a few widely spaced short spans(that seemed a lot longer at the time)in sheer, heart stopping terror. You remember all the television shows and movies where the handsome leading men handled the real danger, while some geeky guy sat in a van or safe room somewhere watching monitors? That was me, the man in the van. 

I had no problem with that. It changed drastically one hot summer night, in a small city in a minor country. Some Middle Eastern princeling was being wined and dined by the locals, anxious for his money. There was a bit of dissent in the country over foreign investment, even if it was from people who looked and talked exactly like they did.

I was in the van, watching the security cameras, parked in the back. Everything was going smoothly until a big truck pulled up and twelve guys got, dressed in black, wearing full body armor and helmets with face shields. When one popped the two sentries at the back door with a silenced weapon, I knew shit had hit the fan. I also knew, with light vests and just sidearms, Mike and Harry were dead meat. I was screaming into the headset as I bailed out, landing on my belly.

The van was a rolling arsenal, and if you're not concerned with accuracy and just want to put a bunch of bullets in the air really fast, the AK-47 is just what you need. The boys had drilled it into my head a thousand times. "Body armor and helmets mean you go for the legs."

I was at the perfect angle, and mowed down every one of them except a guy who was lucky enough to be standing behind the truck. He looked at his buddies, looked at me reloading, and got the hell out of Dodge.

The second clip now seated, I emptied it, dropping the rifle and reaching into the van for my shotgun. Even with body armor, getting hit point blank with a magnum load of buckshot can ruin your day. It held ten in the tube and one in the chamber.

A couple were in decent enough shape to shoot back. I felt something tug my sleeve as I targeted them first, walking forward on autopilot.

Pump. Aim. Squeeze the trigger and pump again. I would have probably emptied it if Mike hadn't come out, both pistols in hand, the asset on his heels. He had just a second to take in the scene, screaming to get my attention.

"Josh! JOSH! Execute asset removal. NOW!"

Two minutes later I was rolling down the road, the asset lying in the floorboards. Ten blocks later we pulled into a garage, the door automatically closing. Four minutes after that, a Mercedes limo with diplomatic plates drove sedately away, arriving at the closest border ninety minutes later. Two hours later the asset was in the bosom of his family, and our obligation was over.

His father kissed me on both cheeks and swore eternal gratitude. "If you want to thank us, give us a good reference. I think it would be best if I left now."

In a nondescript little car, I drove to yet another country, to find the guys waiting for me. They just stared at me before breaking in to big grins and pounding my back so hard I had bruises.

"Damnit, boy! Where did that shit come from? You erupt into a full blown scream in our headsets, then the bullets start popping. When you said a dozen, I kept waiting for the charge. We didn't look outside until we heard the shotgun booming. Shitfire, you looked like the grim reaper, walking through those bodies, stopping to shoot when you saw somebody twitch. If you want to know, you had seven instant kills, two more died within minutes. I'm sure the other two lived a very short, very painful time, until the authorities stop thinking of things to ask them. You got the one who got away on your cameras. They're looking for him now."

Mike paused, his smile vanishing.

"The bad news is the cameras also got your face as you slaughtered those hostiles. Sooner or later, someone is gonna see that tape that's connected to those guys, and want to do something about it. They also got me when I came out, so by association they got Harry. Looks like our time here is over. Time to get out of Dodge, or end up in Boot Hill after dying in a particularly nasty way."

Our bosses agreed, gave us a year's salary as a bonus and severance pay, and sent us packing.

.........

We got off the plane and were instantly flagged. Some nice boys from Homeland gave us a welcome home speech, telling us we were on a watch list, the shit we did over there wouldn't come close to flying in the good ol' U S of A. We agreed totally and they turned us loose.

We went in three different directions, promising each other we'd stay in touch, each of knowing it was a lie. 

I was working in tech support ten months later, absolutely hating it, bored out of my mind. They guys I worked with knew I was in the Army, the company I worked for was big on hiring vets. I told them the truth, I was never near combat, doing the same job I was doing here for Uncle Sam over there. They bought it, because it was the truth. I just didn't tell them about the four years as a private contractor.

I was in a semi-serious relationship with another techie from my company. Beth Ann was a tiny thing, five feet even, with disproportionately large breasts and a wonderful smile. I didn't touch her for the first few dates, but on the sixth one she started rubbing all over me. I wasn't a rocket scientist, but I wasn't an idiot either, so two hours later a trail of clothes led from my living room to my bedroom.

We got thirty days vacation each year in the security company, and the boys took me to France, introduced me to some friends of theirs, and disappeared. Three women, all very skilled in different things. I spent three weeks with them, and they taught me things. Lots and lots of things. So many that when Mike and Harry came back to get me, I'd dropped eight pounds. The education(and the five thousand dollars) was worth it.

I showed Beth a few things, until I got tired of hearing her scream and beg for less, then more, so I stuffed my cock in her mouth for the big finish. She didn't object at all. When I finally let her loose she lay crying. I thought I'd hurt her until she got her composure back.

"If you let me sleep a few hours, I want to do that again."

So I did. She took two naps, getting woken in a very good way both times.

She must have given me a good report, judging by the way her friends seemed suddenly interested in having conversations with me. Beth actually got jealous until I told her I was a serial monogamist. Then she'd just smile while they flirted, knowing it wasn't going anywhere.

I was having serious thoughts about her, and then she screwed it up. We'd gone on assignment, two weeks onsite at a factory. One of the guys on the floor noticed Beth Ann, and started giving her attention. She rebuffed him gently, but he got more aggressive and she finally told him to stop or she'd tell his management. He said something really crude and she went straight to the plant manager and played the recordings she had on her phone of the last two conversation. He was immediately fired, and didn't take it well. I found out about it through the grapevine and was a little upset she hadn't told me.

"Oh honey, I didn't want you to get hurt. He's a six five factory worker with huge muscles and a reputation as a fighter. You're pretty tall, but he probably outweighs you by sixty pounds, and after all, you are a computer geek."

I was pissed and she could see it on my face. She tried to make nice, but her lack of respect signaled the beginning of the end for us.

She got to see what a computer geek could do two nights later. We had finished the contract early, and under budget, and management was treating us to drinks at the local pub as a thank you.

The fired guy came in, saw us, and headed over. Everybody at the table tensed but me. He started out with his rant when I slapped the table. It made enough noise to make him stop.

"Why don't you fuck off?" 

I'd said in the same tone most people would say good morning, and it took a minute for him to process it. By then I'd gotten up. He looked at my size and grinned, before ranting again, I let him run out of breath before I spoke again.

"What are you, twelve? Because you sure sound like it. In the interest of time management, why don't you shut the hell up so we can get straight to your ass kicking?"

People were listening, and someone actually laughed. Every one at my table was watching, faces ranging from horrified(Beth Ann)to downright amusement(the company owner).

With a roar the guy swung at me. I just leaned back and to the side, letting the fist fly by. I grabbed his ear on the follow through, twisting savagely and bringing him to his knees. He howled in pain.

"Here's what's gonna happen. I'm going to walk you out to the parking lot, where I hope you're stupid enough to try to fight again. I'll have a good time stomping your ass into a mud puddle."

I tugged, and he had to follow if he wanted to keep his ear. I got him to the middle of the lot, where I let go, pushing him until he fell.

"I really hope you get up and come towards me. That was my girl you were harassing. I'd love to give you a lesson in manners."

I was smiling, swaying back and forth. He could see my eyes, and he didn't like what he saw there. Without a word he stumbled to his truck. Well, that was disappointing.

Nothing gets a woman's juices flowing more than having two alpha males fight over her, and Beth Ann was no exception. She was all over me in the hotel. I was done with her, and decided to show her what she was gonna missed. I used every trick my French ladies taught me, reducing her to a quivering wreck four times that night.

When we got home I told her I wouldn't be seeing her anymore. She got very pissed when her arguments didn't work, went straight to the owner, who happened to be her great-uncle, and told him I was mean to her. 

He called me to his office, where I got a twenty minute lecture about how good I was going to treat his favorite great-niece if I wanted to stay employed. I politely thanked him for his time, went into my cubicle, and cleaned out my desk. I was gone in fifteen minutes.

I never saw any of them again except her great-uncle, who I ran into about a year later at a seminar we were both attending. He seemed very nervous, but I just grinned at him. In the after seminar mixer, he worked the nerve up to approach me.

"How are you, Josh?"

I was doing great. We'd just launched our own business, and already had enough work to keep us more than busy. Didn't tell him any of that, though, just said I was doing fine.

"Uh, Josh, I just want to say I'm sorry for what happened. I was so used to dealing with people without spines I forgot there were actually men still in the world. If it's any consolation, if I could have found you before you disappeared, I would have told you to forget the whole conversation. I let my feelings for family override my business sense, and lost what was one of the best employees I'd ever had. Is there any chance..."

I was shaking my head so he stopped.

"Well, I thought I'd at least try. Not that you need to know, but Beth Ann was a screaming bitch for about two weeks before she finally realized you weren't coming back. It's just as well, she couldn't have dealt with a real man for long. She's living with a guy now, and I don't think he'll even go to the bathroom without her permission. Here's my card. If you're ever my way and need a job, look me up. I'll find a place for you."

It didn't matter about Beth Ann, because by then I'd found Cora. She was attractive but conservative, in and out of bed. Still a pretty good lover, and I'd slip something new in every couple of months, expanding her horizon a bit.

We married nine months later, and moved into the family house. There wasn't a lot of opportunities in the area, so she became a housewife, filling up her time volunteering for different things and hanging out at the country club. They had a pretty good gym, and she played a lot of tennis, which kept her toned.

I was glad to be almost off the road. Cora had seemed distracted lately. I'd catch her staring out into space,and sometimes she'd talk in her sleep. Once I heard her mumble, "thank you, Mr. Cocke," and I asked her about it over breakfast.

She choked on her coffee, and when she recovered she told me Mr. Cocke was on a committee with her, and wasn't always pleasant. She saw me frown and hastened to assure me. "Relax honey, I can handle him. I privately call him Mr. Dick, because that's what he acts like sometimes."

We laughed, and I forgot about it.

.......

I was getting out of control. As soon as I saw my husband off for a trip, and just as soon as I knew he arrived, I called Penny. Usually an hour later she'd show up, with the boys. Sometimes I kept Damien over, for a little one on one loving.

It got pretty interesting this time, because Penny showed up with the boys, and another car with three more guys and a girl.




Thirteen Steps



"They just need a bedroom, honey, they won't bother us."

And they didn't, the first four hours or so. Damien had done me twice, the boys once each.

I was just lying there in the afterglow, when I felt a tongue glide across my pussy. Brad had an odd habit of eating Penny and I out after we had been at it for awhile, I think he may be a closet 

bi-sexual.

Ummm, that boy was definitely getting better. I reached down to pat his head, and felt long hair, not his buzz cut. I opened my eyes and saw the girl from the other bedroom munching away. I started to freak and push her away, but it felt so good I just played with her hair, closing my eyes again. A few minutes later I felt something familiar nudge my lips. I opened my mouth and he slid right in. I was almost done, he was starting to twitch, when I opened my eyes. It wasn't Brad, like I thought, but one of the new guys. He came while I nearly bucked the girl off, my orgasm was so intense. 

After that, we were off to the races, I experienced every combination of positions multiple times, including being made 'air tight' three times. It stopped being fun when one of the guys tried to shove his dick in my mouth straight from my ass. I fought him, and he twisted a nipple so hard I opened my mouth to scream. When he rammed that nasty thing down my throat I bit the hell out of him. He fell off me screaming, blood actually dripping off his cock.

I jumped up, pissed.

"Everyone out! I mean right fucking now!" They just laughed until I pulled the pistol out of the night stand, thumbing the hammer back, jamming the barrel against the asshole's balls. When the pistol came out there was panic, and my bedroom became a ghost town, just me and Mr. Asshole.

He looked like he was about to piss himself. I pulled back a little. "Get your clothes, get your friends, and get the fuck out. Forget the address. If I see you again, it will be real bad."

The immediate danger over, he got arrogant.

"Fuck you, bitch." He held up his cell phone, laughing. "I got it all right here. You'll keep fucking me and my friends, when we want, or hubby gets an email."

In normal circumstances I wouldn't have done it, but I was beyond pissed. I pulled the trigger, and the phone went spinning out of his hand, the bullet going through a window. He dropped like a rock, convinced I'd shot him. I looked down.

"If you piss on my carpet, I'll blow your dick off. Now crawl your sorry ass out of here."

I went through the house in a rage, and threw them all out, including Penny.

It took me two days to clean the house. I think every surface that could be used to have sex on was used, and they'd left stains. I had the window replaced, thankful it wasn't a wall I'd hit. I was a so-so shot, the fact that I hit the phone was sheer luck. I could just as easily blown his hand off. The thought scared me.

It was the next weekend before Penny worked up the nerve to call me. I went right to the chase.

"NEVER, EVER, bring anyone to my house again without permission. I didn't know those people, and while it was fun for awhile, I never want to see them again. I think maybe we need to stay away from each other for a while, things tend to get out of hand when we're together. I'll call you."

A week later I was walking around the house, raging. Josh had called me and said he'd had to extend his stay for another six days, which meant we'd miss the country club Halloween dance. I was pretty pissed, I had a witches costume that was mostly transparent, and I'd planned to leave a lot of guys with blue balls before the night was over.

Then I had a bright spot. A dozen roses arrived, from Damien. He said in the note he was sorry things got out of hand, but it really wasn't his or the boys' fault, and they all swore it would never happen again.

I was in a mellow mood, and more than a little horny, so I called him, thanking him for the roses. We talked, and decided to have our own little pre-Halloween party. I told him to be outside his dorm at ten in the morning, and we'd get our costumes.

He was almost dancing with excitement when he hopped in the car. "What kind of costume are we gonna get?"

I was massaging his cock, already swelling, when I answered. "Depends, baby. How kinky you wanna get tonight?"

We ended up the next town over, in front of a line of sex shops. We'd been through three, making a few purchases, happy I'd made sure to load up on cash before I left. No way did I need an electronic trial. We were just about done, and we were in the largest shop, when I had a wicked thought. I leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Go in the back, baby, scope out the rooms. Find one with a glory hole, and I'll relieve a little of your tension before we get home."

His eyes flew wide and he was off like a shot. I waited five minutes before going back. He was standing in the hall and nodded at the middle room. I slipped in, noticing the holes on both sides. In less than two minutes, a very large, very familiar cock poked through a hole. I scooted the rickety chair over, got comfortable, and gave him a ten minute blowjob that had him climbing the wall. He blew and pulled back, and I had my hand on the doorknob when another cock poked through the other side. It wasn't as big or as long, but it was pretty nice. Excitement got the best of me, and I reached for it, jerking him off in about five minutes. Just as he was done another, small cock appeared on the other side. He didn't last two minutes. I slipped out, meeting Damien at the car.

"Where have you been? I was getting worried."

I just shrugged. "Things came up. Think we got all we need?" He did, so we went home.

......

Well, that was unfortunate. Not for me, but for the leading man. He was actually dumb enough to think he could do his own stunts, but the director kept a pretty close eye on things. He'd let him do small stuff, but made sure the stunt double was around for the serious stuff. He slipped behind the directors' back, and talked the second unit director into letting him try something that was really dangerous. It went tits up and he ended up with a broken arm. He was at the local ER, and they'd put him out of action for five days. The director was beyond pissed, having to pay everyone for an extra week while they waited. He took the time to do rewrites to explain the broken arm and wait for him to get well enough to start shooting again. I spent the next day with the other actors, doing some gun battle scenes. You had to be really careful, even with blanks. There was some pretty good actors over the years that had managed to get killed with blanks, so safety was rule number one. I made sure I'd spent at least an hour with every actor, getting them familiar with the weapon they'd be using. I also kept a tracking form, and every round had to be accounted for.

I was cleaning the weapons and packing them up when the word came down. Three days off. Most were really happy, because it meant they could spend Halloween with their families.

I'd worked with a lot of the people on and off in the last few years. We fell into the business by accident. Mike and Harry did security for a well known celebrity, and she happened to be interested in guns. Mike nagged me into talking to her, and when I showed her pictures of my weapons, she insisted I take her shooting.

She put on old jeans, a sweatshirt, wore no makeup. and put her hair up in a ponytail. Gone was the glamorous movie star, the girl next door taking her place. I took four or five weapons I thought she'd like to shoot, and we had a ball. She would be a great shot if she practiced. I told her that and she glowed. She really liked the eight shot Rossi revolver, the twenty-two being really easy to handle. She also liked the pump shotgun quite a bit.

The range was part of a gun shop, and a week later she was back with permits, buying a twenty gauge shotgun and the revolver. The owner nearly freaked when he checked her ID.

She was doing a movie ten months later, and the weapons master they used had a bit of a drug problem. When one actor almost shot another, they fired him, and she suggested me as a replacement. I did it just for the novelty, but was good enough that I could probably do it full time if I wanted.

One of the many friends I made was Pippa, as she liked to be called, A Brit, of ethnic Chinese descent. She did makeup, specializing in face alteration. She could make anybody look like anybody, or no creature known to man. She was only five feet tall, and weighed ninety seven pounds, but they were really well placed pounds. I caught a special effects guy roughing her up, and gave him a lesson in how to treat a lady. I was her hero from then on.

Cora for some reason hated Halloween. And she really hated horror movies. She said real life was scary enough, why did you have to make up things that heightened the feeling? I, on the other hand, loved horror movies, and I'd seen enough while in the Middle East that very little shook me up. I jumped out of a closet once wearing a mask and grabbed her, meaning to yell "BOO!" but she fainted dead away before I got the chance. Things were a little frosty around the house for a long time after that.

I'd told Pippa once about Wilfred, and she was enthralled. I think she wanted to go home with me just to hear him walk the steps. Cora had a little jealous streak, so I put her off.

I'd showed her a picture of him once, and I saw her eyes gleam. She was going back to California to party with her friends, and I, of course, was going home.

Looking back, it was a mistake, but she offered to make me look like Wilfred for Halloween, after he'd been shot, of course. We were doing a period piece, and wardrobe had a suit from the proper era they let me borrow. I thought at the time it would be fun to scare the trick or treaters.

The mask was kind of freaky, most of the face gone, skin hanging down in strips, one eye missing while the other glowed red, half the skull gone. It scared me when I put it on, and I was in it. She had me put it on a few times to make sure I could do it, and packed in a special case for me.

I grinned on the way home, looking at the box. Those kids were gonna piss themselves when they got a load of me.

.........

We'd experimented a little when we were by ourselves, and I found I liked to be dominated sometimes. We'd even experimented with bondage, and breathing control. It was a rush to have your air slowly shut off as you fucked, having a monster orgasm as you lost consciousness.

I'd bought us S&M outfits. I had a leather clincher that made my boobs stick straight out, knee high boots with a five inch heel, fishnet thigh highs, my hair back in an oiled ponytail, and really thick makeup on. Everything was black, of course. I got him some leather chaps, a leather vest, a collar, and matching cock ring. We also picked up a few pair of handcuff, some lengths of rope, nipple clamps, ball gags, dildos and butt plugs.

Damien got to be the dominant one first. He was so cute, trying to boss me around. I think he sensed my attitude, because when he whipped my ass and tits with that flogger, he left stripes! They better be gone before hubby got back, or I'd have to do some major league lying about how I got them.

We rested, ate a light dinner, and then went back to the 'chamber'. Tomorrow I'd be a good little housewife handing out candy, but tonight, I was a Dom bitch from hell. Damien would never be the same after I got done with him.

.........

I drove down our winding driveway, wondering once again why Wilfred wanted to be so far from the road. The man must have really liked privacy.

I looked at the box again, grinning. I was gonna put it on before I went in, show it to Cora. Since I'd be home after all, after we handed out candy, we could hit the country club dance. Maybe we'd win a prize this year.

Pippa had given me another toy. A fake knife, an evil looking Bowie with a twelve inch blade. It had no edge of course, the blade was actually two thin plates, with a two inch opening in the middle. The handle was filled with fake blood, all I had to do was squeeze and it would pump out.

It was surprising there were no lights on this early. The only light I could detect was from our bedroom. Maybe she had her scented candles going. Maybe she was masturbating. I'd caught her doing it twice. The first time she was embarrassed, but I pulled a chair up and made her finish. The next time, she ordered me not to touch her until she'd finished, and then fuck the hell out of her, that being her exact words. Wonder if she'd like to do it with Wilfred?

.........

Damien would never be the same. I had his hands handcuffed above his head, his legs spread and tied to the posts. He had a ball gag on, a good thing or several times I believed he would have screamed. It started as soon as I got him secured. I took the seven inch butt plug and held it in front of his face while I lubed it.

"Time to take it like a little bitch, baby. Don't worry, you should know from me that you enjoy it after a while."

I didn't ram it up him, I didn't want to hurt him. Much. But ten minutes later I had it in and was pumping it slowly, while tears fell from his eyes, Pretty soon though, he had risen to full mast. I started pumping harder, and damned if didn't come! I just stroked harder for a few minutes, and he started to rise again. I reached out and stroked it, taking some of his cum and spreading it over his lips.

"You're such a good little bitch. Time for Momma to have a good time. You don't mind, do you?" I left the plug in, straddled him, and started my ride.

He was moaning. I don't know if he was enjoying it or not, but he stayed hard, and that was all that mattered. I reached back every once in a while, sliding the butt plug in and out a few times. He'd groan every time, turning me on even more.

We'd discovered zip ties, big ones, and we'd used them a few times for pleasure. I had a small one around his balls, and I'd reach back and tighten it a notch now and then. I had another, a thick one thirty six inches long, around his neck. Not too tight, but tight enough. I held the excess like a leash, and every few minutes I'd tighten it a notch, watching his eyes. I didn't want to go too far.

I was doing some serious riding, almost there for the second time. I had the tie as tight around his throat as I dared, teasing him. I heard the footsteps on the stairs, and cried out.

"Damn it Wilfred! I'm a little busy here."

I saw Damien's eyes widen, a look I'd never seen before on his face. I cried out, overloaded by the situation, and gushed like a river.

.........

What the hell! I barely recognized Cora under the thick makeup, and I didn't recognize the boy under her at all. He looked like a teenager. A scared shitless teenager, looking at me in my mask and clothes, knife in hand. I didn't even think, running across the bedroom. She didn't know I was there, obviously in the throes of an orgasm. I yanked her head back by her ponytail, screamed out "CHEATING CUNT," and slid the knife across her throat, gripping the handle so tight the fake blood flew out and covered her chest.

Hers eyes fluttered open and closed, and she fainted dead away, falling on the boy. His eyes were wide and he seemed to have trouble breathing, Cora must be a little heavy on him. Tough shit. When she slumped forward I saw the zip tie around his balls, reached down, and yanked it as tight as it would go. He arched up and tried to scream.

I looked at them one more time, turned and left, sickened by the scene. I don't even remember getting into the car and driving away. Two hundred miles later I cam to my senses. I'd driven back to the movie location, a state away. Since I already had a room reserved, I went back to the hotel and crashed.

I was up by nine the next morning, planning the rest of my life. Cora was fucked. The house was in a trust, and the business was excepted by prenupt. All she would get would be half the savings and checking, about fifteen grand all told. I was glad now we funneled most of our money back into the business. I'd let her keep the car, I never liked it anyway.

Pippa was surprised to see me, but I told her I wanted to get some rest before I drove home. She asked if I had packed the mask. "In my car," I grinned.

Finally, I couldn't stall any longer. I hoped the bitch had at least cleaned the bedroom, I'm pretty sure she pissed herself as she fainted.

.....

It looked like a cop convention when I came up my driveway. Three deputy cruisers, two plain sedans, a white van, and an ambulance. Fuck, had they gone crazy after I left? A guy in a suit met me at my car.

"Mr. Tompkins? Josh Tompkins?"

"Yes, I'm Josh Tompkins. What the hell is going on here?"

Another suit had joined us. "Mr. Tompkins, I'm, William Smith, and this is my partner Alex Johnson. Could you tell us of your whereabouts for the last twenty-four hours?"

"Gladly, just as soon as you tell me what's going on. Otherwise, you'll talk to lawyers."

They looked at each other. I was scared to death they were going to charge me with assaulting the stupid bitch and her toy. Maybe the asshole lost his balls. Wouldn't that be a shame.

"Any reason you think you need a lawyer?"

I stood like I was thinking. "Well, let's see. I've been away working for the last three weeks, and when I get home cops are everywhere, nobody wants to tell me what the hell is going on, and want to know where I was yesterday. So either tell me what the fuck you're doing, or I get enough lawyers here to start my own firm." 

They frowned. Apparently they didn't like their authority threatened. Before they could respond the Sheriff walked up. "These state boys bothering you, Josh?"

"A little. Maybe you can tell me what's happened."

He looked a little startled. "You mean you've been talking with these guys for fifteen minutes and they haven't told you what we found in the house?"

"They haven't told me shit. Now, Sheriff, if I'm not detained, I'm going in my house."

I started walking towards the door. One of them reached for me. "Not a good idea. You touch me, and I'll enjoy spending your pension." I nodded to the side, and he looked, seeing the television vans for the first time. My property was posted, and they better than to drive up without permission. My closest neighbor, the resident busybody, had no problem letting them park in her drive. He pulled his hand back fast. I was almost to the door when a tall woman with striking gray hair, wearing an SBI jacket, stepped in front of me.

"Mr. Tompkins, I apologize for my associates. My name is Sarah, Captain Sarah Walters. If you'll give me a moment of your time, I need to talk to you."

We moved closer to the van. "Mr Tompkins, the reason we don't want to let you in the house is that it's a possible crime scene."

"What kind of crime?"

"Maybe none, but we still have to investigate. The reason we're here is that two bodies were found in your house. One, it saddens me to say, is your wife."

"Cora's dead? Are you sure?" Fuck, I'd killed the bitch somehow. I ended up beside her van losing my breakfast. I'm sure my shock looked real, because it was.

"Well there wasn't any identification on her, but we're pretty positive. After we get her to the morgue, you need to come down and identify her. After the mandated autopsy, if they find nothing unusual, she'll be released to you to make arrangements for interment or cremation."

"No. I want to see her now."

The ambulance attendants had two sheeted bodies out of the house by then, ready for loading. Captain Walters nodded to one, and he pulled the sheet down a little. It was Cora, all right. In almost pancake makeup, the fake blood on her throat. I just nodded to her. She moved me back to the van.




Thirteen Steps



"I saw blood. And why is she made up like that?"

"It's fake blood, Mr. Tompkins. Apparently she and her companion were engaged in sexual behavior of a deviant nature. They were dressed in leather S&M outfits, and had numerous sexual toys in play. Are you swingers, Mr. Tompkins? Do you enjoy a bondage and punishment lifestyle?"

"What? No! We're pretty conservative people. Or I thought we were. Who is the other person? How did he die? It was a male, right?"

She looked at her notes. "His name is Damien Phillips. Twenty years old, a college student. And before you ask, he died of strangulation. It looks like your wife might have done it, accidentally, we suspect. Did you know the deceased?"

"No. I've never heard the name before. What's going to happen now?"

"Well, first, you need to find a place to stay until we clear the scene. I need to be able to contact you, so I'll need to know where you're going to be."

"I guess I'll go back to the job site. I still have a few days worth of things to do. Four or five days enough time?"

She said it was, but wasn't happy that my job site was two hundred miles and one state away.

"Look, I'm a pretty respected person in my field, and I have to travel to satisfy the job requirements. You have the hotel number, my number, here, I'll give the the number for the production company I'm working with. I have a clean record, no arrests, no complaints. I own this farm outright. Do you really think I'm a flight risk? Just call, and I'll come."

"You seem remarkably calm, Mr. Tompkins. Doesn't the sudden death of your wife bother you?"

"I was in the sandbox, Captain. Four years as a private contractor after I left the service. Of course I'm upset, but I haven't forgotten my training, so I'll hold on until I'm somewhere safe and private. Then I'll allow myself to process it, and probably break down. Does that make you understand?"

She nodded, then slipped off her jacket,, and pushed up the sleeve of her shirt to show me the tattoo. "Three tours, and I worked a year for what I bet is the same company before I came home. You're free to go, sir. We'll call you when we're done with our investigation."

Everyone on the set knew something was off, but I didn't tell anyone except Mike and Harry.

"Bloody hell! She's dead? She was cheating on you? Bitch got what she deserved, if you ask me."

Harry wasn't a real big fan of cheating wives. He'd been married four times. Three cheated on him and got caught, and then he screwed up the last one by cheating on her. The divorce was uglier than usual, and with Harry, that's pretty ugly.

Mike just shrugged. "Sucks to be you right now. Sorry brother."

I still couldn't get over how clueless I was. Pippa told me much later it was because I was such a good guy that I thought everyone else was good also. I'm a lot more cynical now.

.......

Five days later I was in the state capitol, across a desk from Captain Sarah. She looked tired.

"We've finished with the scene and your wife. I'm releasing her, you need to decide who picks her up. Her death has been ruled accidental. The autopsy revealed a hidden heart problem, a weak valve, that was fine until you put it under a lot of strain. We speculate the excitement of what she was doing caused it to rupture."

I nodded. "How did the boy die?"

"I shouldn't tell you, but it will be common knowledge soon. Your wife strangled him. A zip tie, you know what a zip tie is? One was found around his neck. We suspect they were experimenting with sexual asphyxiation. When she had her heart attack, the strap was in her hand, and she must have tugged it on reflex. Judging by the scarring of the headboard, the bruising of his wrists and ankles, it most likely took him over half an hour to die."

Fuck! What a shitty way to go. The captain cleared her throat, like there was something sticking in it.

"Mr. Tompkins, when we did the autopsy, we found your wife had two different strains of STD in her. It looks like they were just past the incubation stage, but you need to get checked, and if you're positive you need to inform any partners you've had recently."

"I've only had one partner," I told her sadly, "and it's been almost five weeks since I've had relations with her. I'll still hit the clinic this afternoon, just to be safe. Thank you for your time, Captain. I wished we'd met under better circumstances."

She apologized once more, and I left.

I buried Cora beside her parents in her hometown.

I took a few minutes before the service, asking to be alone with her. I told her that I didn't mean to kill her, if I'd known about her heart I'd never have done it. I also told her I'd have thrown her out on her ass for being a selfish, cheating cunt, divorcing her as soon as possible, and telling everyone why. 

There wasn't a very big turnout, the story had hit and gone national. Her fuckbuddies had found her, and while they didn't leave a name when they called 911, the guy named Brad used his own phone. When they interviewed him, he spilled his guts.

In all, thirty-nine out of sixty-three people tested positive for at least one STD. I tested, and was disease free. Penny was thrown out on her ass and got little out of the divorce. Eight students were expelled for corrupt behavior, and five professors were fired. There were seven divorces and six lawsuits. The college suffered a big blow to their image, and enrollment was down for two years. 

I ended up marrying Pippa, seems she still had a bit of a crush on me, but we didn't get together until after she married someone else and it cratered fourteen months later. We became a two person support group, and still are today. Three kids, all girls, perfect little China dolls for Daddy to dote on. We had all the kids while we were living at the old house, remodeling the top floor and making a new master bedroom. The room where the deaths occurred was officially a guest room, but in the seven years we lived there, it was never used. Halloween is one of our favorite holidays, and the house is full all that day while Pippa makes up the kids and all their friends. We've been disqualified from the country club costume contests, for obvious reasons. Pippa got her revenge by picking a different friend every year and going all out on her. 

Harry married her sister, making him my brother. He seems terrified of her, and she's smaller than Pippa.

Mike married his movie star, she said it was cheaper to keep him up than pay him. Her biological clock had already struck midnight, so a year later they adopted twin girls from China.

You see her with Mike and the kids every once in a while on a fan show, drooling on the kids. It actually boosted her career, and she often plays a sexy soccer mom in family movies.

When it became obvious I wasn't going to have a son, we honored the trust and gave the house and property to my nephew. When the house had to be destroyed, it opened a loophole in the the trust, and we bought the farm back. Pippa, her sister, and Mike's wife are already planning the new house. I get absolutely no say on it, which doesn't bother me. I told her it didn't matter how the house looked as long as I got to live in it with her and the kids. Really good statement, judging from the loving I got that night.

I think about Cora from time to time, wondering what would have happened if she hadn't become such a screaming whore. Pippa recognizes my look and makes sure she and the babies snuggle up to me, and I quickly put her out of my mind.

.........

We stood at the top of the stairs, watching the bulldozer tear off most of the front of the house. Termites had gotten to it, and the county declared it unsafe, so it had to be razed.

"As soon as the top step is gone, so am I. I don't know how I know, but I do." In the last ten years, I'd learned to read him, and he had what passed for a smile on his ruined face. I think I'm going to miss him.

"What about us?" whined our third companion. If I'd known we were going to be ghosts, I'd have picked someone better to have been riding when I passed. I can still remember it, seeing the ruined face, feeling the blood flow as he slashed my throat. My last conscious thought on earth was that I thought blood was warmer.

I was really pissed when I found out it was fake blood, but not nearly as pissed as I was when I realized I was dead. I remember him apologizing for killing me, but telling me if I was still alive I'd have been thrown out on my ass.

I watched him bring that little Chink bitch in, crawling all over her every chance he got. I tried to remember if he ever fucked me with as much passion. She popped out three little replicas of her pretty fast, and it sickened me to watch the way they fawned over them.

That's all I could do, watch. I had no manifestations at all. I couldn't make noise, I couldn't move things, all I could do was just watch.

Oddly, I don't remember Damien being such a whiner, but then again, he'd have that big cock jammed up in some orifice most of the time, and I was the one whining.

I'll tell you another thing, if I had known I was gonna die, I'd have dressed better. Then again, with the boots, the clincher, the hose, the heavy makeup, and the fake blood, I looked pretty good as a ghost. The rub was no one saw me, at all. I'd tried over the years, but it never happened.

Damien just looked stupid, the zip tie around his neck, his blue face, the chaps, the vest, and collar on a pretty scrawny body. His ghost cock looked just as foolish, but then again all we could do was look, we'd tried to touch in the past and just went through each other.

So he whined. He whined about missing out on life. He whined about not getting to have sex ever again. He whined about what a stupid bitch I was for killing him. We'd get into some pretty big rows, than Wilfred would materialize and tell us to shut the fuck up, he was trying to haunt here.

The dozer was inside the house by now. As the landing started to shake Wilfred disappeared, and Damien whined.

"Hold my hand!"

"Moron, how am I supposed to do that?"

I turned around, feeling the dozer blade go through me, praying to ever god I'd ever heard of to release me.

.........

Well, there it is, my Halloween story for this year. I hope you enjoyed it. Comment and vote if you like, they're always appreciated. I'd like to thank all the people who have supported my stories here and my projects offsite , and I'll have a new story up shortly.

Q



Thirteen, Twelve, Eleven, Ten.



For me it was love at first sight. I'll never forget the first time I laid my adolescent eyes on Michelle Brixton, I was around thirteen at the time and her loveliness stunned me. Her family had taken over a farm close to ours, well, if you call a fifteen minute drive further past our farm letterbox, close. For the next five years we would ride the same bus to and from school, and each time I saw her it took the breath from me. With rare beauty usually comes arrogance and self importance, but not with Michelle. She was usually friendly and smiley, and maybe a little unaware of the spell she held over people. To me, she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, apart from the TV and movies stars. Her beauty was natural and elegant, from her wavy blonde hair to her lovely long tanned legs. I loved her big blue eyes and perfect facial features. I only once saw her in a bathing suit at a school competition, but it was a sight I'd never forget with her heavy breasts and shapely legs. While she was an accomplished and powerful swimmer, she soon gave it away, I think because of the unwanted attention she got. The prying male eyes of both teachers and pupils were maybe too much to handle.

In my teens, I was tall and gangly and not particularly good looking, but Michelle would always smile and say hello when our paths frequently crossed. Little did she know how my heart fluttered when she did so, but I guess I wasn't alone in that department. Other boys flocked to her like a seagulls around a rubbish bin, each scavenging for her attentions and hopefully a little titbit of her affections. But while maintaining her friendly outgoing nature, she appeared to avoid any relationships, or rumours for that matter. This no doubt broke many hearts, for she was considered the most desirable and attractive girl at our school. 

My family name is Hilter, which is unfortunately fairly similar to Hitler. From my early school days I was called Hitler, and then some bright spark nick-named me Adolf which stuck with me until such time as I moved away. Out of all the people I knew including some teachers, Michelle was the only one who asked if I minded being called Adolf. I just smiled and told her it was fine, she could have called me anything and I wouldn't have cared.

At the age of eighteen, I left school to work on our family farm and completely lost track of Michelle. I had a few good friends and we did the usual Friday and Saturday night things in the closest town, which was a long and winding forty minute drive away. My dad taught me to drive on the farm at an early age and I got my license as soon as I hit eighteen, after that the family car was always at my disposal. My parents were always concerned at the remoteness of the farm and recognised that I needed to socialise with people my own age. The car came with strict conditions, no booze, drugs or driving recklessly. My dad was a hard man but with a gentle side to him. He would give you the world if you promised to look after it, but you only ever had one chance. I knew that if there was one indiscretion with the car, it would never be at my disposal again. The result would be that I would be confined to the farm forever and a day. Having been brought up around farm trucks and tractors, I had the deepest respect for machinery and the perils that come with them. From the age of eleven, I could competently navigate our tractor and other farm vehicles anywhere on our property, which was helpful to my dad. 

Like most young males when among friends, the subject of the opposite sex was never too far from our conversation, especially when a little alcohol was involved. Our tales of sexual bravado and conquests were mostly fantasy, and I doubt any of us had been well and truly laid, me included. Michelle Brixton's name had been raised several times, but it seemed that she'd dropped out of circulation after her school days. One of the guys had seen her in town a few times with her mother, but that's all, which was a shame really, for she was still considered the most desirable girl for miles.

It was on a Saturday night out that my relationship changed with Michelle, but, for all the wrong reasons. I was driving home around two in the morning and taking all the care I usually do when driving on country roads. Road washouts, fallen trees and wandering stock are all things to look out for. It was a sheep farming area, and hitting a stray sheep at fifty miles an hour ain't pretty for the sheep or the car. A horse or a cow at fifty miles an hour can be fatal for drivers and front seat passengers, and always for the animal. 

I'd not long turned into our road when a flash of moving white in the scrub near the verge caught my eye, and I pulled over wondering what it may have been. It was the same colour as a sheep but only too tall, and although I caught only a glimpse, it was enough to arouse my curiosity. I stopped and backed up the car a little before swinging the nose in towards the scrub, and I got my first glimpse of a blonde female crouching beside a power pole. My immediate thought was that there'd been some sort of accident and I jumped from the car and ran towards her.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked loudly.

"NO, NO. LEAVE ME ALONE, PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE. NO MORE, PLEASE NO MORE" screamed a tormented voice as I approached. 

It was only when I got close that I recognised Michelle's blonde hair, dishevelled as it was. She seemed to be covered in blood, her top torn away exposing her breasts as her arms flayed wildly towards me in self defence. Her bloody legs were bare with only a pair of dark panties covering her private parts.

"Hey, hey, hey Michelle, it's me, Adolf from school. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Adolf is that really you?" came her more subdued cry as she tried shakily to stand.

"Yes, it's me, let me help you."

I took her arm as she began to fall, "Jesus what's happened to you, you're covered in blood?"

"They hurt me Adolf; they hurt me bad and left me here." she whimpered.

It was only then it dawned on me that Michelle hadn't been in an accident, but assaulted by somebody. In the glare of the car lights, all I could see was torn clothes and pale bare skin, both smeared with blood. She was certainly in a bad way. What should I do I asked myself? Hospital was a long drive, and maybe her family would be a better bet. Her trembling body clung to me for support, her erratic breathing warming my ear.

"Lets get you in the car, and I'll get you home." I suggested.

I half carried the sobbing Michelle towards the car and opened the back door, she just kind of fell in and then crawled along the seat. The glow of the interior light didn't make her look any better. Who the hell did this? 

Although I'd never been to Michelle's home, I knew pretty much where it was. I listened to Michelle's sobbing for the next twenty minutes; I was relieved when I finally found her letterbox, and turned up the driveway next to it. I wound my way up the driveway to arrive at a large rambling wooden farmhouse not unlike my own. The house was in darkness and I sounded the horn several times as I pulled up outside. By the time I'd opened the back door and lifted Michelle from the backseat, lights were on and doors were opening in the house.

Suddenly, an outside spotlight turned the night into almost day, and a big bare chested man dressed only in shorts walked out onto the wooden veranda.

"Help, Michelle's been hurt." I called.

"What the hell!!" he exclaimed while rushing to assist me and taking Michelle from my arms.

"I found her wandering by the road up by the turn off, she said someone had hurt her." I said.

He took one look at Michelle, and turned towards the house, "SHERYLL, GET DOWN HERE QUICK. MICHELLE'S BEEN HURT."

Not sure what I should do, I walked up the veranda and stood by the front door as two frantic parents attended to their bloody daughter on the carpeted floor. 

"Shall I call an ambulance?" I asked. 

Michelle's father nodded and pointed towards a phone on a small table. After I made the call I moved from away from where I could see Michelle, for I'd seen enough.

Eventually Michelle's father approached me, his fright had now turned to anger and he was looking for blood. I didn't want it to be mine.

"Who are you?"

"Stephen Hilter, Peter Hilter's son. I was driving home when I found her."

"Do you know what happened?"

I shook my head, "Nope. I haven't seen her since school days."

He looked at me for a few seconds and his face softened, "Thanks for bringing her home."

I guess that was my invitation to leave, and I did so willingly. 

Farming people rise early, but the burly uniformed cop at our door beat us all to it the next morning. My parents had been in bed when I got home in the early hours, and they knew nothing about Michelle when they answered the door. The cop was a hard looking man, and his eyes never left mine as I retold how I found Michelle at the side of the road. I got my first ride in a police cruiser, and took him to the spot where I'd found her. There wasn't much to see except for flattened grass and Michele's white handbag. The cop later asked how well I knew Michelle, and what I'd been doing the night before and who with. All questions were answered with absolute honesty, for the cop scared me more than a little. When I asked how Michelle was, he shrugged his shoulders as told me that as well as could be expected for someone who'd been gang raped. I didn't have any questions after that. 

A couple of nights later, Michelle's parents came to our house and thanked me for bringing her home. I told them that we knew each other from school and that we caught the same bus every day. They told me that Michelle was still in hospital, but would be home in a few days. My mum, who is the best woman in the whole wide world asked how Michelle was emotionally, and was told not good.

As the months past, I thought less and less about Michelle. There had been no further contact by her family or the cops, and I had no wish to intrude. So my next sighting of Michelle was kind of unexpected, again for a whole lot of reasons. 

I've always liked cross country running. Having been brought up on a farm, I just loved to run through paddocks and over hills. I joined the athletics team at school and was always in the top five in interschool competitions. When I left school, I still enjoyed a good run two or three times a week. Farm work keeps you strong and honest, but not necessarily fit. Our property is close to the sea, and my favourite run takes me out over the high cliffs and forests which is on the edge of a massive regional park. I liked to run half an hour before sunset when it's cooler, and so that I could watch the sun disappear under the sea. 

On this particular day, I ran my usual route in reverse, and arrived at the cliffs well before dusk. At the highest point, the well worn track is close to the sheer cliffs that drop two hundred feet to rocks and the sea below. It's a spectacular place to sit and watch the rolling surf and the gulls soaring high in the air. It is at this place that I found Michelle standing over the safety fence and very close to the edge. I recognised her wild blonde hair flying horizontally in the off shore breeze. 

I slowed my run as I approached near where she was standing, and my first thought was that she was going to jump.

"Hey Michelle." I called.

My voice made her jump, and her head turned briefly towards before turning back towards the sea.

I stepped over the fence and walked close to where she stood.

"How are you?" I asked looking somewhat fearfully at the drop below me.

She took a few seconds to answer. "I'll be fine soon."

I knew in that instant what Michelle was about to do. My mind raced; just what should I do. In the movies, the hero would dive on the intended jumper and the day would be saved. In reality, there was little I could do, for Michelle was strong enough to take us both over. All I could think of was to try and talk to her, but Michelle was aware of my intentions and stepped away further from me.

"You can go now Adolf, I'll be okay." she said after awhile.

"Sorry, I'm not going anywhere."

"Please go, I want you to go."

"I know what you're thinking about doing, I'm not leaving."

"You want to watch me jump?"

"No, I don't." I replied as I edged myself closer to her, but again she moved a step away.

I carefully sat down on the grass and looked up at her as she gazed out to sea. Her blue tracksuit fluttered noisily in the wind as I thought about what I should say. She looked down briefly at me giving me a chance to take in her gaunt features; she no longer looked the beauty I remembered. I then thought to what my mother would do in this situation, for she was an unflappable intelligent woman of great courage and sensibility. What would she say to Michelle?

"You can't do this." I said after awhile.

"Why not?"

"Because it's cruel. How would your parents take it, after all they've done for you? They are nice people; they don't deserve to be hurt anymore. What about all your friends, do they deserve this?"

"I don't care anymore Adolf, I just don't care."

I then started to get a little angry, which was a little bit stupid really.

"How fucking selfish is that, you're about to ruin your parents' life, and you just don't fucking care. Just think about the carnage you are going to leave behind. This is a stupid way out; and I never took you for a coward."

She turned angrily to me, "What the fuck do you know about it Adolf, what the fuck do you know. Do you know I've been through? Do you know what they did to me; do you know how I feel?"

"No, but I'll listen if you want to tell me."

Her voice was now full of venom, "Do you really want to know Adolf. Do want to know how they tore my clothes from me and held me down while they took turns to fuck me? Do you want to know how much it hurt when they stuck their dirty things inside me? How their dirty cum made me pregnant and gave me a disease. Do want to know these things? What do you know about abortions, do you want to know about that too?"

"Yes." I lied.

Her anger turned to tears in an instant, and her knees buckled beneath her. I reach up and took her arm briefly in case she fell forward into the abyss beyond. She thankfully settled onto the ground close to me.

"Go on, tell me what happened." I urged.

For the next ten minutes, Michelle looked out across the sea and told her story, which was gruesome in detail. She told of how men whom she thought were friends got her drunk and then took advantage of her. She described the pain and how she fought when her pleading failed to stop them. How it felt afterwards as the doctors and nurses examined and repaired her damaged body; and the shame she felt when her parents held her or anyone looked at her. She told of the anger that racked her as she officially identified her attackers to the police, and the lack of remorse in their eyes.

I had no answer for Michelle after listening to her story, and we both sat in silence with only the wind in our ears. 

"Do you know that my attackers said I was a willing party to it, and I only complained afterwards?" she commented after awhile. "That I ripped my own clothes off and scratched myself to make it look bad. I've got to defend myself in court, to convince people that I don't know that I'm not a slut, and I didn't ask to be raped."

"How does that make you feel?" I asked.

"What do you fucking think?" she asked angrily.

"I've always thought you were a strong person Micelle. You can't let them get away with it. Take the fight to the fuckers and don't let them win. And when they get ten years in the slammer, just laugh at them."

For the first time a little smile appeared over Michelle's face, "I didn't know you had a vindictive streak in you Adolf."

I smiled back. I then deliberately changed the subject and started to talk about the school days, and gradually Michelle began to join in.

"You're shivering." Michelle commented after awhile.

I looked down at the goose bumps on my arms and legs, and for the first time realised how cold I was. The sweat from my run had dried, and now the cool evening wind was starting to take its toll. I rubbed my arms briskly for a few seconds.

"You'd better go." Michelle urged.

"I'll walk with you for a few minutes." I suggested.

We looked into her eyes, for she understood what I was trying to do, which was to make sure she didn't do anything stupid after I left. She smiled as I stood up, and took my hand as she got to her own feet. Hand in hand, we walked away from the cliffs and towards the safety of the nearby park road. My smile was quickly observed.

"Do you know how much I dreamed about holding your hand when we were at school?"

"I didn't know what to think of you. You were always so quiet, but nice and polite too. I suppose you're going to embarrass me and tell me you had a crush on me?"

"Me and half the school." I replied.

Michelle smiled graciously, "I wasn't interested in boys. According to my dad, you were all horrible creatures and not to be trusted." Her demeanour suddenly changed, "I guess he was right." 

"Not all of us." I replied.

Eventually we came to the main road where we had to part and she turned to me. 

"Promise me something Adolf." 

"What?"

"Don't mention this to anyone, especially my parents."

"Okay, on one condition."

"What's that?"

"That you don't do anything stupid."

She looked at me for a few seconds, "I was going to jump."

"I know, but you didn't. Stand up and fight the fuckers, don't ever let them beat you. You're a better person than that."

Her eyes hardened and we stood close for a few seconds, and then she leaned forwards and gave me a peck on the lips.

"Thanks Adolf, I promise. I'll not forget what you did today, you saved my life."

She then pulled away and began walking away towards her home. I never saw Michelle again after that. 

Ten years later, my father sold the farm after ill health set in, and it all got too much for him. By this time I'd earned myself a degree and by chance had fallen into hotel management through a friend of a friend. Through hard work and a little bit of luck, rapid promotion found me managing a three hundred room hotel complex in a large city. The pay was good, and a comfortable suite for me to reside in was part of the package. All this was far cry from a little old farm boy, but I loved the daily challenge of the hotel industry. The hotel boasted conference facilities, two bars and a nice restaurant, and there was always something going on. I remained single, although I was nearly engaged once, but came to my senses at the right time.

Michelle had also been busy. After finishing law school, she was now the champion of women's rights. At first there had been the odd snippets in newspapers which I had read with some interest. Then after a couple of successful court cases for women against their violent celebrity husbands, came the TV interviews. Her fame continued to grow, and soon became a household name. To me, I thought she'd become an anti-male, man hating bitch, but knowing what she'd been through maybe she had good reason to.

Twice a week, I held a management meeting with key staff. This is to firstly review what's happened over the last few days, and also to look forward over the next few. One item on the agenda is to identify any guests that may require special treatment on their arrival, and one afternoon I was surprised to hear Michelle Brixton's name. The female members of the team smiled with interest, the males turned their nose up at the man hater as they considered the trouble or extra work she may bring them. I of course mentioned nothing with the exception of ensuring that her stay with us should be memorable for the service she was about to receive. 




Thirteen, Twelve, Eleven, Ten.



I had planned to keep out of her Michelle's way, for a lot of water had passed under the bridge since we last met. I wasn't quite sure what sort of reception I'd get, or even if she would even remember me. Little did I know that I was going to find out, and sooner rather than later.

The afternoon that Michelle arrived, I was by sheer chance in the security office watching from the safety of one the many reception cameras. She looked good in a beige business suit, still pretty even though her hair was now cut short. After she booked in, I retired to my office and made a few phone calls reminding staff to be on their toes. Bad publicity I didn't want. The next morning I made my rounds as I usually do. I like to spend time in the hotel foyer watching the comings and goings, the bar was empty but the restaurant was well known for its quality coffee and was doing its usual good trade. Everything looked just fine I mistakenly thought to myself. Not far away, a pair of interested eyes was upon me, I just didn't know it.

The night before, Michelle Brixton settled into her comfortable suite. At a small desk, she plugged her laptop into the phone jack and waited for it to start up. She reached for the plastic hotel folder and looked through the list of facilities. The first page had a welcome note, immediately the name Stephen Hilter leapt out at her; and it took a couple of seconds for her to put two and two together. Wasn't Adolf's name Stephen Hilter? Could it be him, it was an unusual name and a long, long way from home. Her curiosity aroused, she intended to keep an eye out.

The next morning, Michelle sat in the hotel restaurant under the gaze of a local reporter whom she'd agreed to an interview with. With bored eyes, she explored her surroundings while answering the same inevitable questions which had been asked hundreds of times before. But she knew that the media was a powerful ally of her cause, and therefore had to be looked after. Her eyes fell on a well dressed man in a dark suit at reception as he chatted with three receptionists. It sure looked like Adolf, dark haired and lean; she watched his mannerisms and how he moved his hands when he talked. The more she watched the more certain she became, and she excused herself from the surprised reporter and made her way towards reception. The receptionists turned towards Michelle as she approached, but she ignored them.

"Hello Adolf." she said. "Long time no see."

My surprise was complete as Michele Brixton without hesitation took her hands in mine and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

She turned to the bemused receptionists and grinned, "Did you know this man saved my life."

"No, we didn't know that, but we'd like to." one replied.

Michelle turned back to me, "Well, say something."

I grinned, "Let's go somewhere else; you're gonna to get me into trouble here."

"You can stay here if you like." the receptionist suggested humorously. "We'd sure like to get a little dirt on Mr Hilter."

My look of displeasure fell on uncaring eyes which demonstrated exactly how much respect I held with my staff, but I vowed to change that at a later date. Towards the front of the foyer stood a couple of leather chairs; and I directed Michelle to one as I took the other.

So, should I call you Stephen or Adolf?" she asked.

I smiled graciously, for it had been a long time since I'd answered to Adolf.

"Steve will be fine. I knew you were staying here, but I didn't think you'd recognise me."

"I saw your name up in my room, and wondered whether it was you or not. Hilter isn't common. But you would've looked me up wouldn't you?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "What happened was long ago, you might not have wanted it all brought up again. Talking to me might just have done that."

Her eyes blazed back at me, "The only reason I'm sitting here today is that you took the time to talk me out of jumping off a cliff. Everything I've accomplished since that day is down to you, and there's not one day I regret you doing that."

I held my hands up in surrender, "Okay, take it easy. Jeez, it's good to see you've still got your sense of humour."

Michelle's eyes softened, and she smiled, "Sorry about that. Anyway, it's good to see you again. Tell me how you got into all this?"

For the next few minutes, we told our stories. We were interrupted by the appearance of two cups of coffee by a cheeky receptionist rubbing my discomfort in a little. I of course told her she was fired after addressing me as Adolf, and she smiled wickedly at Michelle and told her I'd already fired her three times that week. We continued to chat, but both were constantly interrupted by unwanted cell phone calls. Eventually, I got called away, but only managing to escape after agreeing to dinner that night. 

For some reason I was nervous about dinner with Michelle. She was now a powerful and strong woman, and while I respected her, she also made me a little uneasy. That night, I dressed down into jeans and a casual shirt and made my way to her room. A lot of my nervousness disappeared when she opened the door, and was quickly replaced with a little lust. With her blonde hair, she looked stunning in a slinky black top and matching jeans which hugged her every little curve. Half an hour later, we sat in a busy little French restaurant which is a long time favourite of mine.

"So, have you still got a crush on me?" she asked after we'd ordered.

I smiled, "I'm past crushes now; I'm more interested in lust."

"Well, I won't ask whether you're in lust with me, it might not be appropriate." 

"Can I ask what ever happened to the guys that attacked you; I never heard the end of it."

"They each got thirteen years, but my sentence is forever. Do you remember that day on the cliff when you told me stare them down and never let them beat me?" 

"Yep."

"I did just that. I looked at them when the judge handed down their sentence, and I laughed at the fear in their eyes. Out of all the people that were around me when it all went down, you're the only friend who told me to stand up and fight them. Even my parents gave me the option of not pressing charges against them."

"I thought I might have got dragged into court."

Michelle shook her head, "I wanted you kept out of it. The cops wanted to drag you in as a witness, but I wouldn't let them. Told them I'd not press charges if they did. You'd already done enough, and I didn't want you to hear what they did to me."

"You told me on the cliff that day."

She hesitated before answering, "I know, but it would be different in a courtroom. I didn't want you to see me going through the whole thing again."

"I wouldn't have minded, anyway you've come a long way since then."

"Did I ever tell you how close I was to jumping when you stopped me?"

I shook my head.

"I was counting down from fifty, and I was at thirteen when I heard you. Thirteen seconds more and I would've jumped." 

"And look what you've achieved since. What a waste that would've been. So what does the future hold now?"

As we ate, Michelle talked about her one aim in life, to make the world safer for women. She told how it consumed her every waking moment. The plans she had to educate women to avoid getting into harmful relationships, and how to extract themselves if they already had done so. How to get financial assistance to be able to live self sufficiently without having to go back into the violent relationship they'd just left. I soon began to tire of the conversation, for it was not much more than a beat up on men. I'd never once raised a hand to a woman, or was even tempted to do so. If my feelings for a girlfriend diminished, it was time for us to part company. The same went for my girlfriends who decided that I was not the one for them. I politely waited until Michelle ran out of steam; then decided to give her my view of the world. Looking back, I should've known better.

"So, are all men bastards?" I asked.

My question took her by surprise, and she sat back on her chair while staring at me.

"No, not all men are bastards, but women need to be aware of the danger, and what to do to make themselves safe. Do you know how many women are sexually assaulted in this country every year?"

"Too many, but the national figures are exaggerated anyway."

Michelle's face tightened in anger, "How so."

"As I understand it, the statistics include girls younger than the age of consent, but having sex with their boyfriends within a relationship."

"Spoken like a true man." she hissed. "It's still against the law."

"Maybe, but its not rape, the sex is consensual." 

"Steve, it's still against the law. All women have to be educated in ways to make themselves safe."

I gazed around the restaurant at the other diners; there were a mixture of couples by themselves and small groups of men and women. 

"I don't see any frightened women here."

"What are you trying to say?" she sighed.

"That not all men are bastards and rapists, and not all women are at risk of been assaulted. Millions of men and women live happily together in this country, not all relationships go bad. What I'm trying to say is that all women have the right to walk away from any situation any time they like."

"It's not as simple as that." she replied.

"Well, I think it is."

"Then you don't know what you're talking about."

The silence between us was deafening, for things had been said that shouldn't have. I was disappointed in myself for getting into the argument; I should've known how passionate Michelle was in her cause, and had every right to be. Our silence was thankfully interrupted by the arrival of more drinks, and I carefully steered the conversation away after the waiter had left our table. We chatted amicably through our meals and we let the wine do its job. 

One always takes a risk of meeting people when patronising their favourite restaurant, and tonight was to be one of those nights. During our deserts, a noisy foursome of girls entered the restaurant catching everyone's attention, mine included. One of them I knew very well. Anna's eyes eventually caught mime, and she briefly smiled before switching her attention to Michelle. Luckily, they were shown to a table on the other side of the restaurant slightly behind me and out of my peripheral vision. I thought I'd got away with it, but a short time later Anna approached our table.

"Hi Steve, how are you?"

"Fine, you?"

"Okay." she replied as her eyes moved to my table mate. "Are you by any chance Michelle Brixton?"

Michelle smiled and held out her hand, "Yes, I am. And you are?"

"Anna Martelli, I'm a friend of Steve's. I just wanted to say that it's a pleasure to meet you, and I hope that you keep on doing your work. We women really appreciate it. " 

Michelle smiled, "Why thank you, it's most gratifying to hear that."

"I'm just trying to convince Michelle that not all men are bad." I offered.

Anna's big eyes turned briefly to me and then smiled at Michelle, "Nope, he's one of the good guys, he ain't got a bad bone in his body. Are you in town for long?" she asked.

"Just a couple of nights."

I listened as the two women made small talk for a few seconds; then Anna excused herself after asking me to call her sometime.

Michelle smiled and raised her eyebrows questioningly, "Mmm, very pretty. Tell me all about it then."

I shrugged my shoulders, "Not much to tell really. We had a thing going a few months back. Parted company after a little disagreement when my work got in the way of her friends wedding day and I couldn't go."

We chatted for awhile, but for me the magic had gone from the night. The girl I'd known and once lusted after had changed into someone I didn't really like. Even though Michelle was a beautiful woman, there was a hard and aggressive side to her that I didn't care for. Then, all of a sudden I wanted out, I didn't want to be in the restaurant, and I didn't really want to be with Michelle anymore. She caught my mood, and I walked her back to the hotel and to her room. She knew better than to invite me in, but whispered a sorry into my ear before giving me a peck on the cheek.

Thirty minutes later I was alone in my bed, and even though I was tired, sleep alluded me for some time. It was three in the morning when my phone rang and woke me from my well earned sleep. Reception had a call for me, and no amount of vetting could dissuade the caller. I sighed and asked them to put the call through, and after a few seconds came a familiar voice.

"Thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight."

"Michelle, what are you up to?" I asked.

"I want to see you." came her subdued voice.

"Do you know what time it is? Can't it wait till morning?" 

"Seven, six, five."

"Okay, okay. I replied. "Come up to my room while I get some clothes on." 

I told her how to get to my room and then hung up. After extracting my weary body from my comfortable bed, I dressed and made myself presentable, well sort of. A few minutes later, I answered a knock at the door.

It was a dishevelled looking Michelle that entered my room wearing the same clothes she went out to dinner in. But now the impeccable makeup had gone, her hair sticking out in different directions not unlike a porcupine, and her eyes were red from crying. She looked at me with her big eyes for a few seconds and then fell into my arms sobbing her heart out - which took me by surprise. 

I held her tightly and let her tears flow as the guilt flowed through my veins, for I had been callous with her. I should have known that under that hard shell was the Michelle of old. I had no right to treat her as I did, I was supposed to be a friend, and friends don't do things like that. I led Michelle to a leather couch, eased her down alongside me and held her as the tears flowed. I stroked her hair and apologised for my actions. Eventually the tears ebbed, and Michelle looked up at me.

"Sorry about this." she whispered.

I smiled, "There's nothing to be sorry for."

"It's becoming a bit of a habit really, you rescuing me." she replied taking my hand in hers and giving it a squeeze.

"Anytime." 

"You don't have to apologise." she said. "It was about time that someone put me in my place. You're right, not all women are at risk, and I've got no right to suggest that all men are wife beaters."

I shrugged my shoulders, "When you do your sort of work, it would be easy to think just that."

"For a woman that's never had a relationship with a man, how can I be a good judge of them?"

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"It means that since I was attacked, I've never let another man touch me. I've never had a relationship."

I thought about her confession for a few seconds, for it surprised me. 

"You're a beautiful person Michelle and you deserve some happiness. I'm not saying you can ever forget what happened to you, but you should be looking forward and not backwards. Everyone needs someone to love."

"You don't have anyone to love."

I smiled, "I still get a little loving here and there."

"Like the girl at the restaurant?" 

"Yeah. It's not long term loving, but a little short term loving is good too. It's not only a man thing either; there are lots of women out there who just wanna bit of short term loving without any commitment. "

"I've never thought of it that way." she replied after a little consideration. "Maybe I need a little short term loving too."

"Probably; it's kinda fun."

"Well, maybe you should show me how much."

Michelle just smiled at my reaction as she turned around on the couch and knelt beside me.

"There are only two men in my life that I've trusted, you and my dad. So if you think I need a little loving, then here's your chance to do something about it, right here and now."

"Jeezus Michelle, do you know what you're asking?"

She looked at me with her cool blue eyes, "I know exactly what I'm asking you to do. I want you to take me into your bedroom and show me what its like to be loved. And don't tell me you don't want to, because I know you do. And I want you to. I want you pretend that we're back when we were teenagers, I want to call you Adolf and pretend that I'm that little innocent girl you lusted after all those years back. Show me what you would've done to me."

When I failed to reply, Michelle got off the couch and walked to my open bedroom door which led off the lounge, she turned and smiled, "Come on then."

I climbed from the couch and joined Michelle who was standing beside my bed, her arms slipped around me as soon as I was close enough. 

"Please be gentle." was all she offered before she lifted her lips to mine.

The moment was not lost on me, I realised that a dream was about to come to reality. Here in my arms was the girl that I'd fantasised about in my adolescent years, and now she was offering herself to me. I wanted to show Michelle what it was like to be loved by someone who cared for her, and I intended to make it good.

I kissed her gently, my tongue gently probing her parting lips so that our tongues played. I held her loosely allowing my hands to caress her narrow waist and curvy hips. Her kiss was full of passion and intensity, and I could feel her arousal slowly building within her. I broke the kiss and slid my lips down her neck and then upwards so that I could nibble her right ear. She whimpered as I then kissed my way around to her left ear only pausing to provide a little peck on the lips. 

After a few seconds, I lifted her top upwards and over her head. My eyes fell to her full breasts partly hidden by a pink bra, and I savoured the sight before me. I lowered my lips to her shoulder, and licked my way down her warm skin tracing the line of frilly material before snuggling my way into to her ample cleavage where I could feel her heat beating quickly. I listened to her little sighs of pleasure as my fingers found and undid the belt to her jeans, her top button was skilfully released and the zip lowered. Michelle wiggled her hips as I pushed her jeans downwards and allowed them to drop to her ankles. Without prompting, she slipped her shoes off and stepped out of her jeans. 

I then allowed myself one passionate kiss before I started on a long journey of kissing and touching. Her skin was warm and smooth, and I took great delight in kissing my way downwards over her breasts and down her pale navel. Turning her around, I kissed her shoulders and peppered her back with little kisses, each one a little lower until I reached her full panty covered buttocks. Without prompting, Michelle turned so that she was facing me.

I knelt before her and stroked her shapely and full thighs, then directed my tongue towards her matching pink panties. Her voluptuous thighs parted briefly at the top, and I could see through the tiny gap. I kissed and traced my way around her panty line, and felt the trembling of her body as I explored the smoothness of her inner thighs. I looked upwards and caught sight of tears flowing from her closed eyes. I then stood before her and kissed her tears away, and she hugged me close in appreciation.

I reached behind her and unsnapped her bra and eased the garment from her body and stepped back to allow it to fall between us, her breasts were heavy in my hands, her proud nipples erect. She cried as I gently suckled on them in turn, her body trembling noticeably as my hands pushed her panties downwards leaving her naked as the day she was born. I took her hands in mine and stepped back so that I could take in her beauty. My lustful eyes were drawn to a natural tangle of brown curls between her thighs. 

"You're so beautiful." I offered as my eyes roamed over her body.

She pulled me close and kissed me, her tongue frantically searching for mine, and for the first time she pushed her body into mine deliberately crushing my erection.




Thirteen, Twelve, Eleven, Ten.



"Take my clothes off." I asked when the kiss was broken.

She looked into my eyes as her fingers undid my shirt buttons and pushed it over my shoulders. Her nervous fingers slipped down to my belt and slowly undid it, a second later, my jeans hit the floor. Her eyes fell to where my erection was straining against the constraints of my briefs, and I could sense the doubt in her. 

"It's okay." I promised. "I'll be good to you."

After a second of hesitation, with one finger, Michelle eased my brief outwards allowing my erection to spring free into the air. She then pushed them downwards and then stepped close to me. Her height allowed my erection to slip easily between slightly parted and submissive thighs. We stood in a tight embrace and kissed for a long time, and then I lowered Michelle Brixton to my bed. 

Lying side by side, we kissed both on the lips and necks and cheeks. Michelle's playing a little more frantic as she became more aroused. I allowed my hands to roam her body, first over her breasts and down over her thighs. Michelle surprised me rolling over onto her back and parting her legs just enough for my wandering hand to slip between them. She sighed as my fingers slipped through her curls and between her damp lips, and I spent a few seconds exploring her lips and clitoris. Little whimpers of pleasure escaped her as her thighs dropped unashamedly open.

"You okay?" I asked.

She smiled and kissed me, "I'm just fine."

I ran my tongue downwards over each nipple and over her flat stomach, and then deftly manoeuvred myself between her parted thighs so that my face was just above her knees. With little kisses and licks, I began to work slowly upwards. Michelle's hand came down and I took hold of it to reassure her now squirming body. My eyes feasted on the sight above me as I worked. Her triangle of brown curls thicker in the middle and gradually thinning as they moved outwards. A thicker tuft sat just above her full lips, and then thinned out as they ran down either side. Her slightly parted lips were natural in colour, and matched her thighs. 

As my lips got close to her curls, Michelle slipped her hand from mine and ran it through my hair.

"You don't have to do that." she whispered.

I just smiled as I moved upwards and slipped my tongue between her lips, for there's not much better in life then giving a deserving woman a good licking.

Michelle shuddered and sighed at the touch of my tongue, her body twisting slightly to the side. I ran my tongue slowly through the length of her luscious lips while savouring her taste. It was warm and welcoming, and after a few seconds, her juices began to flow freely. She moaned loudly as I began to explore her clitoris and felt it grow under my skilful touch, her legs were soon raised back against her chest giving me full access to her all her charms. I slipped backwards from my bed so that I was kneeling beside it, and then eased Michelle back so that her buttocks were now on the edge and her legs high. Making myself comfortable, I then began my work in earnest. 

For a long time, Michelle's thick lips were suckled upon and her clitoris tweaked with little kisses and nibbles. My tongue explored her opening and my face rewarded with the wetness of her arousal. She squirmed and moaned constantly, and I gazed over her flat navel as her fingers gently played with her nipples. I watched with interest as she pulled contorted faces and bit her bottom lip as I continued my work. 

The insertion of a finger was met with a whimper; and a little flurry of moans as I explored her warm insides with the addition of another. I searched for the supposedly elusive G spot, but Michelle's reaction was instantaneous and her feet hit the end of the bed raising her buttocks high and nearly out of my reach of my mouth.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

I rose to meet her and slipped my mouth firmly over her clitoris as her buttocks fell slowly to the bed. With my fingers working her insides and my mouth working her clitoris, I settled down into a nice little rhythm. 

My lovely Michelle responded by clutching my bed sheets and writhing on the bed, her vocal repertoire of little moans and groans convincing me that I was doing well. She too fell into a little rhythm, and slowly began working towards an orgasm. With her head arched backwards, and with closed eyes, she rocked gently before my face. 

Suddenly, Michelle stopped moving and took a deep breath, then let it go slowly as her orgasm shuddered through her body. She savoured the feeling, for it was the first time in her life that she'd achieved the ultimate pleasure at the hands of someone else. She heard herself cry aloud, and felt her salty tears rolling down the side of her face. She cried as her orgasm slowly left her leaving her numb with desire for what she had achieved. 

Just a few feet away, I gazed lovingly down at Michelle's pussy. Her thighs and flattened curls were sopping from her excitement, her lips gaping and her pink clitoris protruding proudly between them. I got to my feet and watched my excited cock swing back and forth in the air. Michelle moved upwards on the bed to give me room and I knelt between her widespread legs. 

"Do you want to do this?" I asked.

She smiled and held her hand out for me to touch, "Absolutely."

I lowered myself over her body, and let my cock slip downwards through her curls. Her hand reached down and touched my cock for the first time, and directed it to her opening before reaching up to hold my face close to hers. When I hesitated to enter her, she raised her legs around my buttocks and gently rocked me slowly inside her. We gazed lovingly into each others eyes, and I kissed her tears away when they began flow. She pulled me tightly to her and plunged her tongue into my mouth as I began to ride her.

For Michelle, it was a momentous occasion; it was the first time that she'd been entered since her attack so many years back. She had given up the idea of being with a loving man; it could never happen, she told herself. Her sex life had been confined to an occasional self induced orgasm with a finger as she fantasised about what it would be like to be with someone she cared for, and cared for her. Since her attack, she'd had an aversion to being touched by anyone. She was a passionate woman, and she fought the aversion, but it won every time until now. This man who'd saved her life so many years ago, had now unlocked her passion, and it felt so good. 

She loved how he seduced her with little kisses, and how he undressed her and told her how beautiful she was. And when he licked her in that special place, it was every bit as good as all her women friends joked it was. The orgasm that followed was incredible, the pleasure greatly outweighing the uncertainty of what was happening to her. The sight of his erect cock, big and powerful looking scared her, but she trusted Adolf implicitly and without hesitation guided it inside her.

Having never explored the world of adult toys, his cock felt strange inside her as it stretched her wide while moving back and forth. As the first few uncertain seconds passed by, she recognised the pleasure and allowed her brain to explore it. It felt warm and slippery; a lot of pleasure came from the area around her entrance. While meeting every one of Adolf's welcoming kisses, she experimented by moving her legs around in different positions, flat on the bed which altered the angle of his entry, and then around his buttocks and waist. Her playfulness was rewarded when her legs were lifted high up on her lover's shoulders, and his cock was pushed deep inside her resulting in a little moan. 

Wanting a change of position, I eventually rolled from Michelle and lay on my back, 

"Your turn on top." I suggested.

Michelle grinned at my cock swinging in the cool air, "I'm not sure I want to. That thing looks a bit scary to me."

"Get up here, you got to earn your keep." I ordered mockingly.

She slipped over me straddling my thighs and then shifted upwards so that her pussy was above my cock. I took myself in hand and pointed it upwards so that she could lower herself onto it. It was at this point that Michelle's natural lubrication began to let her down, and a little painful twist to her face made it obvious.

"Look in the second drawer down, there's some lube." I suggested.

Michelle leaned forward over to the bedside cabinet and opened it; a smile appeared on her face as she scooped out a tube of KY, a stash of condoms and a small vibrator onto the bed.

"Oh yes, what's all this? Looks like a real den of debauchery." 

"All for a rainy day."

"Really?" she asked gingerly throwing the vibrator back into the drawer, then rolling the strip of condom packets and waving them past my nose. "Looking forward to winter are we? And why aren't we using one of these."

"Cause you've gotta be safe, and I haven't put myself at risk."

"It's not because men don't like using them?" she asked while lifting herself from me.

With my erection standing proudly against her navel, Michelle squeezed a little KY over the head and then lifted herself over it. This time, my penetration was completed with ease, and Michelle settled down on it and then lowered herself onto my chest. Our lips met and our tongues played as she rocked contently back and forth.

"Mmmmmmm, this is quite nice." she whispered.

When my hands strayed to her breasts, she sat up a little to make it easier, and then guided them to my mouth for a little extra teasing. We stayed like that for quite a while; it was when Michelle complained that her legs weren't used to be parted so wide that she rolled off to the side. I rolled her over on the bed so that she was facing away from me, and after adding a little dollop of KY, I slipped once again into her nice warm pussy. 

From my new position, I kissed Michelle's back, shoulders and neck as I moved slowly back and forth. My right hand slipped around and fondled her nipples, and I was soon rewarded of little moans of appreciation. Without withdrawing, I eased her onto her stomach as I rolled on top of her. Placing my legs outside of hers, I coaxed her legs together pinning my cock firmly between them. My strokes were slow and short, and I could feel Michele rocking gently beneath me.

"Mmmm Mmmm, I like that, feels real good." she whispered.

I carried on for a short time before lifting her buttocks in the air, my cock slipping from her noisily during the transition. Michelle's hand quickly guided me back inside to speed things up. This time, I began slamming hard into Michelle driving her up the bed but pushing hard back with my every stroke. Our bodies were now shiny with perspiration as we slapped noisily together. Little moans of pleasure greeted my ears until she suddenly pulled away and rolled away from me.

"Okay, okay, I give up. I won't be able to walk for a week." she laughed. 

I lay down beside her and pulled her in close so that our bodies were touching. Her arms swept around my neck so that I couldn't escape her kisses. 

"You okay?" I asked.

Her eyes fastened onto mine, "I'm just fine thank you. I'm a little tender down there, but I want to feel you cum inside me." 

"Are you safe? I asked knowing that she was unlikely to be using any sort of birth control. 

"Should be, it's my safe time at the moment."

I rolled into a kneeling position between her parted thighs and looked down at Micelle's well battered pussy as I applied a little more KY. Her lips were now redder than before, and her tunnel gapping open. I leaned forward and ran my tongue briefly between her lips before moving over her body and sliding my cock deep inside her. Taking my body weight on my elbows, I began to ride her as we looked into each others eyes and occasionally kissed.

With her legs slightly bent by my sides, Michelle moved with me as I moved towards orgasm, her fine warm and wet pussy providing all the incentive I needed. She took my head in her hands and kissed me passionately as I worked diligently away. She sensed my urgency and smiled up at me as my intense orgasm arrived pumping my seed deep within her. Her smile was wide as my pleasure peaked and then diminished slowly from me, and then she raised her lips to mine.

"It's about time I did something for you." she whispered. "I owe you big time."

I grinned lecherously down at her, "A few hundred of those should even it up a bit."

She chuckled loudly, "Spoken like a true glutton."

"So, how was that for you?" I asked.

"Fantastic, better than I ever thought possible." she replied. "But only an act with someone you care for I think. I liked it when you finished inside me, all warm and gooey. Now I can feel you shrinking inside me."

"Want me to get off?"

"No, not yet, stay here. I like the feeling of you inside me."

I remained where I was for a few minutes before rolling from between her lovely thighs. I lay beside her and gazed at her beauty, her long body slippery with sweat. Her breasts lay flat against her body and her curls between her legs were flattened with my cum. Michelle asked for a tissue to save my mess from the sheets, but at that moment I cared not if my bed got a little messy. And she just smiled as I my eyes feasted upon her.

"I'm glad it was you." she muttered. "If it ever happened, I wanted it to be with someone special." 

"Do you regret waiting so long?"

"Not until now, but maybe I do after this. It was nice and intimate, and it felt good too. I was always interested, but scared too, but I kinda knew it'd be okay with you." 

We eventually snuggled down together and fell asleep as our chatting slowly faltered. It was Michelle's cell phone that woke us; she looked at her watch and jumped from the bed throwing her clothes on as she cursed. I can tell you watching her clothes come off the night before was much more fun than watching them go on again. After giving me a little kiss on the lips, she sped from my room with the excuse of a late meeting, but more interesting was her promise to get together later. I dragged myself wearily from the bed, and after a shower and dressing, wandered into my office to see what the day might bring. 

It was late in the afternoon that Michelle contacted me, would I like to join her for a drink in a nearby café she asked? Ten minutes later I was sitting next to her with a chilled beer in my hand. She again looked stunning in a dark business suit, and my heart fluttered when I had approached where she was sitting, and her beaming smile was the type that was reserved only for lovers. For an hour we chatted, our fingers touching occasionally as we ignored our surroundings. 

She then leaned close to me and smiled mischievously, "Do you remember you stripped me and then kissed me all over?

"Mmmm." I replied.

"Wellllllllll, how'd you like to do it all over again?"

I grinned, "I might quite like that."

"Well, how about you finish your beer, and then we'll go back to the hotel, and I might just let you."

I won't bore you with all the gory details, but it was pretty much a rerun of the night before, but this time Michelle was a lot more confident about the whole thing. Still a little tender from the night before, she got a little lesson on how to provide a good blow job and managed to finish me off pretty good. There's nothing quite like the sight of a beautiful woman with a face full of your cum. Michelle just smiled at the end of it all and then sprinted for the bathroom.

It was a couple of hours later that my dream of having Michelle in my future life was shattered. We were sitting in the lounge both dressed in hotel robes when she took a call on her cell phone. I watched as her demeanour changed from that loving woman I wanted her to be, to that of an angry and aggressive woman in a few short seconds. The argument between two lawyers over a pending divorce settlement that followed was long and bitterly ugly. I watched as Michelle's face distorted with rage and venomous words flew from her mouth, and I knew with some sadness that I couldn't let a woman like this into my heart. Under her watchful eyes, I walked from the room and hid under the hot shower. 

Michelle was dressed when I returned to the lounge, and we looked into each others eyes for a few seconds before anything was said. I watched the tears trickle down her face as she realised the implications of what had just happened.

"I'm sorry Adolf." she whispered. "But I can't let go, it's just part of me." 

Michelle, it's ruining your life. You deserve a better life, let it all go."

She considered what I said for a few seconds, and then shook her head, "I can't."

I took her in my arms and held her tight while she cried, her lips sought mine and I kissed her tenderly for the last time. 

"If I can't be your lover, can I still be your friend?" she whispered when our lips parted.

"Always."

She smiled up at me, "I don't regret what we did, you showed me what it was like to be loved, and I'll always cherish the memory."

I held her face in my hands and gazed into those big eyes, "Life is for having fun, just make sure you do."

"Maybe it's too late for me."

"Michelle, it's never too late."

She smiled through tearful eyes and eased herself away from me, then turned and walked towards the door. I regretfully let her go.

The next few days were kind of miserable, for I would've loved to have Michelle in my life forever and a day. But I knew there would be unhappiness and conflict between us, but who knows; maybe it would be worth it. She was a driven woman dedicated to her vocation in life, and who am I to ask her to give it all up. Every time I convinced myself that I'd done the right thing, my mind would drift back to her wonderful body and the exquisiteness of our love making, and I would then turn into a lonely and unhappy man.

It took a while for me to break the shackles of my depression, and on a whim I rang Anna whom I last saw in the restaurant when I was with Michelle. My call was well received and came with an invite that night for a home-cooked meal, and for the first time in many weeks, my sprits lifted.

Armed with a nice bottle of red wine, I knocked nervously upon Anna's door at the allotted seven p.m. A bubbly and excited Anna invited me inside to where the rich smells of roasting meat and garlic greeted me. I poured two glasses of wine and then watched Anna work wonders in her small kitchen. We chatted and laughed as she did so, and then she switched off the stove and elements, stepped close to me and grinned mischievously.

"Which would you like first, me or food?"

Anna chuckled at my surprise, reaching behind her back, unzipped herself and let her dress fall to the floor. In front of me stood a dark skinned petite woman of some beauty wearing only a pair of white French knickers. With her hands on her shapely hips, Anna smiled brazenly as she tempted me. My eyes swept over her small pert breasts with large inviting nipples, and then down to her lovely round thighs. I grinned as I remembered how downright naughty she could be. She licked her lips as she slipped a finger down the front of her knickers, and fingered herself slowly and erotically.

"I've been a very good girl since you were last here, and you've got a lot of time to make up for." Anna whispered as she slipped her knickers downwards exposing a very bald pussy. "I shaved it just for you, so it's nice and smooth for you to lick."

I watched as Anna moved to a large comfortable chair and sat down, and beckoned me with a finger. For some strange reason, I kind of lost interest in food after that.

Not a lot later, I was firmly ensconced between Anna damp thighs riding her gently as we kissed. She looked up at me and smiled.

"I'm sorry we broke up, I know it was my fault, but I was too stubborn to apologise. But when I saw you with that Brixton woman in the restaurant; it made me really jealous. I hated the thought of you being with someone else."




Thirteen, Twelve, Eleven, Ten.



"Well, you've got me now." I replied.

"But for how long?"

"What are you asking?"

She pinned my body so that I couldn't move, "I want us to start over again, but only if you do."

"I want you in my life too." I replied happily.

Our resulting lovemaking was a long and passionate affair, full of promise and desire. Our kisses were meaningful as our bodies moved comfortably against each other. And afterwards we slept with our bodies touching and our hands in each others. 

Over the next year, my life changed dramatically. Anna moved in with me and we set up home as a couple. I loved coming home to a beautiful woman, and Anna accepted my work responsibilities without question. I was pampered like a king and enjoyed every minute of it, her company, the great food; the humour and of course the sex which got better with time. The good thing about us living in the hotel is that I could slip home for a little horizontal lunch when Anna was around. We had a little texting code set up, and there's nothing like a little rampant sex during work time. Problem was our supposed quickies took quite some time.

Michelle faded from my life, with the exception that my staff sometimes addressed me as Adolf when they felt brave enough, and I could only but smile at their audacity. It was only by chance that I caught a newspaper article about Michelle, I read with interest as it told of her quitting the public life of women's rights, and was to take up a partnership with a prestigious law firm. Over the following few days, I contemplated making contact with her, and at a weak moment did so via e-mail. 

Later that night, I got a long reply. She'd finally met someone and was settling down. She told me a little about her new man, which somewhat tore a little at my jealous heart strings. She asked how I was and what I was up to. At the end, she told me that I was the best friend she'd ever had, and that I would never ever be forgotten for a whole lot of reasons. She signed off with the words 'I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU' in large bold letters and half a page of kisses to go with it. She then humorously suggested that she would happily handle my divorce at no cost if I ever needed one. She pointed out that any woman who foolishly decided to give me up deserved everything a concerned and dedicated lawyer could dish out. 

I switched off the computer and thought back to Michelle, and while I loved my lovely little Anna dearly, I pondered how life could have been, but only for a short time.



Thirteen Years



I opened the car first, to search for the flashlight I had brought with me. It was lying on the backseat. I put it into the pocket of my coat, and closed and locked the car doors again.

The gate to our garden looked at least as old as the cemetary gate and it was barely hanging on to the fence. I pushed it open with ease, the screeching sound breaking the silence of the evening for a few moments, and entered the garden.

It was so dark, I could not see farther than a few feet. At the place I knew the house stood, there was nothing but darkness, the trees prevented me from seeing even the outline of the house. I turned on my flashlight and in the circle of yellowish light, the footpath up to the house appeared, then a few bushes, and when I pointed it further on, something that looked like a black wall.

As I approached it, I recognized the front wall of my childhood's home more clearly. I could see the little porch that was burned and almost fallen down, the door, of which only a tiny bit hung on the hinges. The windows were broken, the heat of the fire had probably burst them. In front of me, some stones lay around, I didn't know which wall they had fallen from. A bit of colorful tape the police had probably used thirteen years ago to secure the site, was moving in the wind, making weird scratching noises whenever it touched part of the porch or the wall. Behind me, I once again heard the screeches of the trees.

I stood in front of a ruin. The house looked like it could crumble to dust at as much as a touch. Still, I decided to go inside. Something in there seemed to call out to me, or something in me longed to be there, to search for just a tiny sign of the past, something to reassure me that my life here had existed, that this had once been a happy place full of light.

Going up the stairs of the porch was a dangerous activity: half of them were missing, and the other half made sounds like they would break any moment. But I managed without breaking a leg, and soon climbed over the threshold of the door into the house.

Inside it was even darker – the walls blocked what little light there had been outside. I could only recognize whatever the small round circle of my flashlight fell on, anything else was black. For a second the thought appeared in my mind that if there was someone in here, watching me from some corner, I would not have a chance to see them. Hastily I let my light circle the room – our old entrance room, the one I had to take my shoes off in, the one where I left my coat in winter when I got back home, the one were we stored the skis.

My heart stopped for a second when the light hit something undefinable. Upon a second look, however, it turned out to be the remains of a set of shelves that the fire had melted into a small pile. I tried to grin at my own stupidity – who would hide out in such a ruin? The place didn't even protect well of the cold with its broken windows, there was nothing here a person would want to look for. And yet, I was looking for something. I went further inside, setting my feet carefully to not trip over the stones and burnt items splattered across the floor.

Under the light of my lamp I saw the remains of what once had been our sofa. Somehow, suddenly, the memory of my mom's hiding place flashed through my mind. Behind the sofa, there was a hole in the wall, with an iron door. Like a safe, except since we never had anything of value to hide, we usually didn't lock it. Instead, my mom put little things in there, a drawing I made, a postcard we got from grandma – "Just so we don't lose it", she used to say.

A wild hope for something that would be a light in all this burned darkness awoke in me. Moving the sofa was not that difficult, but a messy job. It broke apart, and I smeared ashes all over my clothes and hands, but I didn't care. Behind it, sure enough, my flashlight found the iron door, untouched by the fire. In fact, it looked so clean, I should have wondered how it didn't get disturbed by the flames at least a bit.

The iron door opened suprisingly easy as well, and inside, my flashlight fell on a few white pieces of paper, untouched by the fire.

The first things I found were a few post cards, written by my grandmother in her clear handwriting and the big letters she always used. I looked at them, for a moment lost in memories. Then there was an envelope. "To my dear daughter" it said on the outside, the writing was smaller and rounder – as my mother had written. Eagerly I opened the envelope and pulled out several pieces of paper. I let my flashlight wander over the first page. There, on top of that first page, there was something that caught my attention more than anything: The date the letter had been written.

"31st of October 1993". The day of my mother's death.

A mixture of excitement and fear washed through my body, making me tremble. My mother had written a letter to me on the day of her death! My feet felt like they couldn't hold the weight of my body anymore, and I sank down, sat on the floor, leaning on the black wall. I didn't care that I was messing up my already dirty clothes even more. I wanted to read her letter now.

In the light of my flashlight I read the first few lines:

"My beloved daughter,

Whenever you read these lines I will be long gone. I imagine, several years will have passed since my death, before you find this letter. And there will be so many questions, there are so many things you should know. You have a right to know these things. 

But before I continue, I have to ask you for one favor: If you are still inside our house, please leave it right now. There are things here that you have no idea about, there are dangers for you, should you remain inside the house, or even just on our land. Please, leave the house, go into town, and continue reading there."

My heart was beating wildly.

I felt watched all of a sudden. There I was, in the dark ruin of my childhood home. I couldn't see what was around me, except for what little my flashlight allowed me, and in my hands I held a letter my mother had written just before her death – knowing that she would die. And knowing, that I would sit here to read it many years later, and that I might be in danger at that very moment.

For a few moments fear made it impossible for me to move, to even breathe. But then I jumped up and in a few quick steps I was at the door. I almost tripped over something, I don't know what, but I caught myself and ran outside and down the creaking stairs of the porch.

It had gotten even darker outside, I estimated it to be maybe 7 pm now, but compared to inside the house it seemed light, I could make out the shapes of bushes and trees, and the air smelled fresher, I felt almost free, relieved to have escaped the house. Quickly I walked towards the gate, left the garden, and reached my car.

***

I entered the car, and took a deep breath. The idea of returning to my warm hotel room, where there was light, where there were people nearby, was comforting. I fished my car key out of the pocket of my jeans, and wanted to start the car. The motor only made a few tired noises, and then it got quiet again. For some seconds I sat there motionless, my heart beating loudly. Then I tried again. The result was even worse than before – now the motor didn't make any sound at all.

I stared through the window, down the muddy street that I wanted to drive down. I could hardly see the way, and the trees were swaying in the wind, above. Maybe I should just stay in the car, wait for it to become day again? I could read the letter here, and maybe I would be able to sleep a bit – I started feeling how exhausted I was from the long drive.

However, it wasn't late in the evening yet, it would be a very long night. Maybe I should just walk back to town, it wasn't all that far. I wasn't too worried about leaving my car here – it seemed unlikely someone would come by this lonely area, and apart from that, if it didn't work they wouldn't be able to steal it anyway. Maybe walking wasn't so bad, with the help of my flashlight...

The flashlight! Only now I realized that I didn't have it anymore. "I must have dropped it when I ran to the car", I thought with horror – I needed the flashlight, and to find it meant to go back into the dark garden, maybe even into the house.

A few moments I remained in the car, listening to my heart beat and the wind. "It's nothing", I told myself. "It is just a wild garden with the ruin of a house in it. You were just there. Nothing happened, so why should something happen now?" Then I opened the car door and stepped out into the night again.

***

I found the flashlight faster than I had thought: It was lying on the ground not far from the gate. I picked it up – and just then a sound, like iron banging against iron, made me jump. Quickly I turned around, and to my surprise I saw that the gate was closed. The wind must have pushed against it, I knew I had left it open.

Nervous as I was, I walked towards the gate as fast as I could, I wanted to leave the garden again, I didn't want to feel the presence of my burnt down child hood home anymore. I wanted to get back to town as fast as I could. But when I tried to open the gate, I couldn't. I remembered that when I had first arrived I could push it open with ease. But now, for some reason, it seemed stuck. I shook harder, even tried to kick it open, but nothing could be done.

The gate still looked like it was only losely hanging on to its hinges, but as much as I tried, it stayed in its place. I decided to try to climb over it, but gave up soon enough – the gate was high, and consisted of long, thick, smooth iron bars that my hands slipped off of again and again. The fence was of the same material – I remembered my mom putting this fence in place after some boys had climbed into our garden one night and made a mess of her gardening efforts. Had I not been so scared I might have laughed at the irony of that it was me of all people who was locked in because of that fence now.

I could have gone to the back of the garden. There was a wall there that I had climbed a thousand times as a child, and that led onto the cemetary – but maybe it was the feeling of panic that made it impossible for me to think.

In the end, I sat down on the cold and wet ground somewhere underneath a tree, and started reading my mother's letter in the light of my flashlight.

"My beloved daughter," I read.

"Whenever you read these lines I will be long gone. I imagine, several years will have passed since my death, before you find this letter. And there will be so many questions and there are so many things you should know. You have a right to know these things."

I jumped over the next paragraph – I was already scared, and I didn't want to remind myself that I shouldn't be here.

"How can I explain to you that which will happen, how can I tell you what has happened? I don't understand it very well myself, but you have a right to know everything. Thus, let me take you thirteen years back, to another stormy and cold Halloween afternoon. I had bought this house only a few weeks earlier together with my fiancé, who was from this area. He had things to do, so I was alone for the afternoon and spent it unpacking boxes from the move. Later in the evening we wanted to go visit his parents. I was looking forward to my new life with him, in this beautiful house and garden, and with our child: I was in the third month of pregnancy.

After a while I decided it was time for a break, and started warming the water for some tea. Just then, the doorbell rang. I was a bit surprised – I didn't really know anyone in the area yet, except for my fiancé's family, and they knew we would be visiting them later on anyway. I opened the door, there was a man there. I can't really describe him, but there was something about him that got my attention right away. He was very tall, and his dark hair was somewhat tousled from the wind. And he had green eyes – I think that was the first thing I noticed, the intense look from his green eyes. There was something about them that made me blush, made me unable to say a word, ask him what he wanted.

After a few seconds he started speaking – he introduced himself and told me that he had lived in this very house thirteen years earlier, and that he was in the area by coincidence now and had decided to ask, if he could have a look at it, for old memories' sake.

I think it was the look in his eyes that made me trust him immediately. I invited him in, and let him look at every room, and he could tell me stories about all of them. It was he who showed me this little hiding place in the wall.

I can still see it in my mind, how he knelt down there, to open the little door, and how he pulled something out of the wall: A silver necklace. "I had been wondering where I left it", he said. Then he stood up, the necklace in his hand, and smiled at me. "It's your house now", he said, "so maybe the necklace should be yours too." I wanted to protest, but I saw the necklace in his hand, and for some reason I liked it so much, I really wanted to have it.

At any rate, he did not wait until I answered, he just looked at me with his green eyes, and then opened the necklace to put it around my neck. And then he kissed me.

I don't even know how he started. I just suddenly realized that we are standing there and kissing each other. And that his kiss was the most wonderful one of my whole life.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered my fiancé, but I pushed the thought away, and just gave myself to the feeling of this stranger's lips against mine, the taste of his tongue.

We were standing right next to the sofa. Our kiss wouldn't end, it got deeper and more demanding, I didn't want it to end. In the end it was me, who sat down on the sofa and pulled him to me, ripping off his clothing with an impatience and desire I don't think I ever felt before or since. I wanted to feel his skin on mine, I wanted to be as close to him as I could. It was as if I had forgotten who I was, where I was and how I was supposed to behave.

When it was over, we were lying on the sofa, naked. Even though it was quite cold in the house, I felt warm with his arms around me. I was just about to fall asleep, when I heard the door open. Looking up, I saw my fiancé standing in the middle of the room, staring at us. He was pale and I will never forget the expression on his face. It was only then that I suddenly realized what I had done.

Before I could say anything though, the strange man had jumped up, and stood between me and my fiancé. My fiancé did a small step towards him, and for a moment I thought they were going to fight. But then something happened with the stranger.

I don't know how to explain it, but he suddenly wasn't human anymore. I couldn't describe what had changed about him, but everything was different. He looked more like an animal than like a human being. Just his sight was enough to fill me with fear. I wanted to hide somewhere.

My fiancé just stood there, as if he was unable to move. Then, suddenly, he turned around and ran out of the door. I didn't hear of him until a few weeks later, when I got a call from the police. They had found him in one of the nearby towns. I went to pick him up, but it turned out that something had happened to his mind. He never again behaved normal after that, he wouldn't even speak. I took care of him for a while, as did his mother, but he seemed unwilling to even live in a house. No one could understand what had happened to him, and I couldn't tell them, I said I don't know. With time people got used to him being the way he was now, and I ended up living alone. Until I had you, that is.

After my fiancé had left, the creature turned to me. Now I saw that one thing about him hadn't changed: His eyes. They were the same eyes I had noticed when I had opened the door. And only now I realized that these eyes hadn't looked human even then.

I was still lying on the sofa, and I felt the cold of the room now. My nudity embarrassed me and made me feel unprotected and helpless. But the creature in front of me didn't spend attention to that.

"I will be back in thirteen years to this day", it said. "I will come back to get what is mine. Don't try to hide from me, I can find you anywhere."

Then he was gone.

The thirteen years have passed today, this is why I send you away to be with my parents. I didn't want the same happening to you as to my fiancé. I don't know if it's just the necklace that creature is after, or if it is something more, but I am here to wait for him. I don't know what will happen, but I am prepared for the worst. Should I survive, I will burn this letter, and you never need to know anything about it. But should I not be here anymore when you return, I want you at least to have this letter, and I want you to know that I love you."

***

For minutes I stared at the letter. Could this be true? I had always thought of myself as a realistic person, someone who would never believe in anything supernatural. Was it some kind of sick joke someone was playing on me? But no one knew I was visiting the house, and the handwriting looked exactly like my mother's.

I was still sitting on the muddy ground, it was dark, and now I realized that the light of my flashlight was growing dimmer.

The realization that soon I would not even have this little light scared me. Carefully I listened out into the darkness. Every rustling of leafs, every screech of the trees in the wind suddenly sounded dangerous to me. What if there was someone out there, maybe that creature my mother had written about?

In panic I jumped up and ran back to the gate. I tried to shake it, kick against it – but it still wouldn't open. I was caught. And as soon as I stopped kicking the gate and listened into the darkness again, I could make out the same rustling and screeching sounds that had scared me before. But I could hear more than that. My heart almost stopped when I clearly distinguished the sound of footsteps, approaching me from the side, from one of the dark corners of the garden. They sounded different from Eric's footsteps in the cemetary, earlier in the evening. They were hard to even make out unless I listened with all concentration.

At that moment I remembered the wall in the back of the garden, the one I had climbed a thousand times as a child, and I started running.

I am not used to running, sports had never been one of my interests, and considering that I stopped playing with other children when I was thirteen, I hadn't run at all in years. A few metres were enough to have me out of breath and have my sides aching. But I could now hear the sounds of someone following me more clearly.

There have been a few moments in my life when I believed myself to be stuck in some kind of film, when my reason disconnected from me, and I saw myself as if in a movie. At these moments, my mind starts forming words to describe what is happening, or imagines the movie this could be made into. It is almost, as if it is not me, this is happening to. I remember how a huge dog attacked me when I was nine – that was one of these moments. I knew I should be scared, part of me was sure I was going to die. At the same time I couldn't believe it, my mind refused to accept that it was me, this was happening to. The long seconds I needed to reach the back part of our garden were such a moment, too. I could almost feel the breath of whomever or whatever followed me in my neck, I expected at any second to be grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground. I also felt the urge to vomit caused by the shock of the sudden physical exhaustion. At the same time, it was as if it wasn't really me who was fleeing. Some part in my mind was convinced, that I hadn't even arrived yet, that I was still in my grandmother's house, and maybe just dreaming all of this.




Thirteen Years



Maybe it was this disconnection from reality that gave me the strength to outrun the one who followed me. Or maybe it, or he, or them, wanted to let me escape. I reached the wall and with a surprising ease my hands and legs remembered just the right movements to climb it.

Then, just when I thought I had escaped, a pain shot through my right foot, and I felt I was being pulled back into the garden.

Instinctively I kicked with my other foot, while holding on to the wall I had climbed half way. And really, whatever was pulling me back let go of me, and I could hear an angry growl. As fast as I could I pushed myself all the way up the wall and hopefully into security, then turned around.

Somewhere under me there stood an animal. It looked like a big wolf at one moment, then again reminded me of a reptile. It was dark, I couldn't see it very well, but its green eyes seemed to glow, they were cold like reptile's eyes and stared up at me. Then the creature turned around and disappeared into the darkness. I couldn't help the feeling that it wouldn't have been easy to pull me back into the garden, that it let me go on purpose. At the same time, memory of how it looked started blurring at the same moment it was gone. I wasn't even sure it had really been there. The pain in my leg, however, felt very real.

Still on the wall, I took a look at the damage: An open wound showed the strength of the strange animal's teeth. The blood that was oozing out of it looked almost black. When I touched it, I almost screamed of pain. I had to go to a doctor. The thought of walking back to town with this leg scared me, but the way my leg looked and felt, it should be taken care of as soon as possible.

I looked down into the cemetery, that seemed safe and inviting despite the fog wading between the grave stones – once I was there, I was really away from my childhood home, I thought. However, the ground was a fair bit underneath me. I took a deep breath and jumped, trying to hit the ground first with my healthy leg.

***

It hurt less than I thought. Now, in safety, I took a deep breath, and started walking towards where I hoped to find the still open cemetery gate. I wasn't quite sure which direction was right, but since the cemetery was only a small one I thought I would find it quite easily.

Soon my fear caught up with me though. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the nightly graveyard, the grave stones I only really saw when I stood right in front of them, the fog that was growing thicker by the minute, the sounds of the wind. I started to feel watched, I believed to see moving shapes in the corner of my eyes, but when I turned, there was nothing. And it became ever clearer that I could not find the gate.

The pain in my foot grew as well, and finally I sat down on a grave stone to rest a bit – even though I wanted to leave the place as soon as I could, I had decided it to be a good idea to think things through.

I am not sure how to describe, what happened next. No description seems to do it justice. Basically, I heard a voice saying my name. Not just any voice – it was my mother's voice. And it came from the grave underneath me.

Any other day I would have been convinced I was asleep, and the nightmares of the first few years after her death had returned – but with what had happened already in the last few hours I saw a possibility of that I wasn't going insane and this was really happening, and some of my fear turned into a vague feeling of hope.

It took me a few attempts to find my voice, but finally I managed to utter one word.

"Mom!"

"My daughter! Is it really you, sweetheart?"

I closed my eyes when I heard her voice, imagining being a little girl again. I didn't dare to open them, because I wasn't sure I could stop myself from crying when once again I was faced with the dark cemetery instead of our warm kitchen and my mother's smile.

"You have to help me", she continued. "You can bring me back to life."

"But..." I couldn't believe I was having this conversation. Part of my head told me it wasn't real. But my heart wished so much that it was. "But are you dead?" was all I could think of to say.

"I am and I am not", I heard my mother's voice say. "I am in a place that is worse than death. What has been buried in this grave was not my body, and yet I am in this grave, I passed through it to another world. And today, thirteen years later, is the only day I can go back and become alive again."

"But how can I..."

"It's the necklace. He lost it in the house back then, thirteen years ago, and since it was midnight already, he had to return with me. He came to look for it now, he needs it. You have to try to find it first, then put it around your neck and bring it here."

The thought of returning to the burned ruin of the house made me shiver.

"Will you do that for me?" my mother's voice insisted.

I took a deep breath. She was my mother, the one person that ever had been truely important to me.

"Yes," I said.

"Then go. You need to hurry. Maybe he's found it already."

I turned around when I heard the voice call out my name again.

"Does he know you are here?" my mother asked.

"Yes, I think so," I said with a shiver in my voice.

"That makes it more difficult, but not impossible. There is another way, a harder one. If he finds you, or finds the necklace before you do, you have to keep him from coming back here before midnight. After midnight the way back will be sealed for him, and that might help to set me free. If he finds you, you have to do whatever is necessary to keep him from coming here in time. Please..."

I nodded my head even though I wasn't sure she could see me, but I just couldn't get another word out of me, I was too confused about it all. When I turned around again, she didn't call me back anymore, and I returned to the cemetery walls to climb back into the garden. I was surprised at how easy I found the right place this time, almost as if the cemetery grew bigger and smaller depending on if it wanted me to get lost or find my way...

***

I will never forget what it felt like to take the first steps back in the garden, after having jumped down from the wall. The pain in my foot had diminuished, it just felt numb now. Or maybe it was the adrenalin, that made me not notice it anymore. It was as if everything, the tall trees and the dark shrubs and bushes, the ruin of the house and the mist wading through the garden had eyes that followed my every step. I could hardly see where I was going, yet I felt exposed to the view of something that I knew was out there somewhere.

The wind had died down and the screeching of the trees had stopped. Instead, my own steps on the dead grass echoed through the garden, no matter how quietly I tried to walk. The echo sounded like someone else was following me closely. Every few seconds I stopped and held my breath to listen into the darkness, but the silence that then surrounded me was almost worse than the thought of that it might be not only my own steps I had heard.

Where should I look for the necklace though? And how could I ever find it without a flashlight – mine was by now, completely dead. I was quite certain that the necklace must be somewhere in the house, and despite the mist I could recognize the dark ruin in front of me.

With some effort I found my way back to the entrance, and up the stairs. Inside the house it was even darker than the garden, but the fact that there was no fog indoors made it a bit easier to see.

My first thought was to try the hiding hole in the wall. I managed to get into the living room without bumping into anything, and knelt down to reach into the hole with my hand. But even a thorough search of its farthest corners didn't lead to any results. Disappointed I stood back up.

Just at that moment I heard a screech of wooden planks, and my heart started beating faster – was that the floor underneath me, or was there someone else walking nearby? I held my breath to listen, there seemed to be a faint sound coming from upstairs, like someone tip-toeing from one room to another. Somehow, relief mixed into my fear: At least now I knew for sure he was here, and where he was. And from the fact that he was upstairs I assumed that this was, where I should best look for the necklace.

As silently as I could, I snuck towards the staircase, hoping it would still be safe enough for me to use. I concentrated on walking as quietly as I could. As long as the other one didn't know I was here, I had an advantage.

When I bumped into something soft and warm I was taken by surprise, and a small scream escaped my mouth, it's echo sounding loudly through the house. Then, I heard a strangely familiar voice whispering:

"Quiet! You will wake up everyone!"

To my surprise it was a child's voice, and when I looked very carefully, I believed to recognize the silhouette of a little child, not older than four or five, in front of me.

"What others? Who are you? What are you doing here?" I whispered back.

"The others... Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa... And what do you mean, what am I doing here? I live here. This is my dad's house."

"But you can't live here! This is a ruin. It's a house that burned down a long time ago."

"You are weird. It's just a normal house."

The next second, a light went on – the little boy in front of me had switched a lightswitch at the foot of the stairs. For a few moments I saw the staircase, it was not burned and broken. The walls were white and decorated with pictures, some of them similar to the ones I had known to hang there from my childhood, others that were new to me. At the same moment I realized, that the smell of decay and ashes was gone, as was the cold.

I stared at what surrounded me, and then turned my eyes to the child in front of me. The boy looked up to me with innocent eyes, seemingly not surprised at all at my presence. It was the same boy I had seen earlier this day in town, and I suddenly realized that he did not only look like his mother, my former best friend, but that there was also something about him that reminded me of myself.

A moment later the lights went back off, and at the same time the cold wind and the feeling of standing in a ruin returned. I knew the boy had dissappeared with the decorations and the warmth.

***

While I carefully set my feet on one step after another up the staircase, part of me was wondering if I was caught in a strange dream, whether maybe I had fallen asleep in my car. Twice I almost slipped, and one time a step screeched so loudly I was sure anyone else in the ruin would hear it. But then, my scream a few minutes earlier must have already anounced my presence.

Finally I had reached the upper floor. It was a bit lighter here: Parts of the roof were broken, and a faint and diffuse bit of light entered the building. Again, I thought I could feel eyes staring at me from every shadowy corner. My instinct, my reason, everything told me to just turn around, rush down the stairs, leave the house to never return. But the memory of my mother's voice, the desperate hope of turning my life back to something resembling what it had been so many years ago when I was still a child, and the wish to keep my promise kept me going.

I didn't know where to start looking for that necklace and I didn't even know what it looked like, but my feet led me almost automatically to the door of my own bed room. And to my surprise, a little bit of yellowish warm light seemed to escape from underneath the door. I held my breath as I carefully opened the door – it was almost intact – and peeked into the room.

What I saw was far from anything I had expected.

The room was decorated just the way I remembered it. There were the colorful paintings I had made and pinned to the wall with my mother's help. There were various toys and pencils strewn over the floor. There were the shelves with all my favourite books. There was the colorful carpet I had received for Christmas just the year before, covering the wooden floor.

And on the carpet, right in the middle of the room, there sat two little girls: My own, eight year old self, and my best friend Sharon.

We had dressed up as little fairies, and were just now busy putting make up on our faces, a difficult and entertaining job. Just now I was trying out the lip stick, while Sharon held a mirror so I could look into it.

I remembered the day as if it was yesterday: Sharon had come over to my house to dress up, then we had both gone into town for trick and treating, and afterwards I had slept over at her house so I could celebrate her birthday with her, which was just the day after Halloween.

I opened the door a bit wider to see more of the scene in front of me. The girls did not look up and they did not seem to notice me. I could hear their – our – voices, talking about the party that was planned for next day.

"I bet I know what my parents will get me", Sharon sounded very excited. "They won't tell, but I bet I know."

"I wish it was my birthday, too," I heard myself reply. "I still have to wait for so long."

"It will be there eventually", Sharon said, copying her mother's tone and words, as she always had done. "Only... only a few more months... Wait, let me see."

She closed her eyes for a moment in order to think.

"We have October now. So, November, December." she held up her hands to count along with the help of her fingers. "January."

My eight year old self chimed in.

"February, March, April, May, June, July..."

"See," Sharon said. "Only nine more months."

The next moment, the lights went off, and I realised I was looking into a dark, empty room above which, a part of the roof was missing. On the floor there were what was left of the carpet, and some plastic toys that had melted into an unrecognizable mess. 

***

The next place I tried was my mother's old bed room. I entered it carefully – this time there was no light, no strange people and no sounds. I seemed to have returned to reality, if what I was living at the time was real.

I couldn't stop thinking of the two little girls, of my own face, that had seemed so unknowing of the future this life held for me, of our voices May, June, July – nine months and of my Mom's letter Let me take you thirteen years back, to another cold and stormy Halloween night.

I walked around a bit in the room, looked into various corners, pushed aside pieces of broken and burned furniture, the broken remains of a bed, and glass from a burst window. Eventually I gave up and turned to the door – and there I saw the shadow of a person.

"Looking for something?" a strange voice said, and at the same moment a candle lit up and cast its light into the the dark room, and onto the man standing in the doorframe.

He was tall, had dark hair, and the most intense eyes I had ever seen. I could tell they were green even in the dim flickering light of the candle. He held the candle in his left hand, while leaning to the door frame with his left shoulder. His right hand was at the height of his face, and he held something between his fingers that sparkled in the light: it looked like a thin silver necklace.

I stayed just where I was, unable to move or say anything. He had found me. He had probably known where I was all along, and had decided this was the right moment to reveal his presence to me. And he had what I was looking for. My mother's words echoed in my head: "You have to do whatever it takes to get the necklace, or at least to keep him from coming back here. Please." The memory of her face, so many years ago, was still fresh in my mind. The memory of the sudden end of my childhood, the loneliness I had felt throughout the last thirteen years. If she was back, all would be good, I was sure of that. I had to get that necklace.

The man stopped leaning to the doorframe and took a step toward me. Instinctively I backed a bit, and to my surprise found the wall of the room right behind me.

"It was in the attic," he said with a smile, his tone was that of someone holding a light and normal conversation with an old friend. "Your mother really is a smart woman, she knew I wouldn't find it easily there."

He took another step toward me. The light of the candle gave his face a strange appearance but, I could still tell that he was very good looking. I can't think of any description that would do him justice, of the right words to tell of the strands of hair hanging into his face, of the bright smile that contrasted with the deepness of his eyes. He didn't seem much older than me, but at the same time there was something about him that made me think he might have lived for centuries. I remembered my mother's letter, I knew it was him, but to my surprise he seemed very human. If it wasn't for his eyes, I would have thought it was just someone from town who had followed me into the house to play a cruel joke on me.

He held up the necklace.

"It's nice, isn't it?" he said in the same casual tone. "It would look really good on a pretty girl like you. Maybe I should just give it to you."

I stared at him. There was no way for me to flee, and I didn't know what to reply. I would have to wait to see what would happen, but I was sure he wouldn't give me the necklace and set my mother free just that easily.

"Of course, you would have to give me something in return," he continued, and took yet another step toward me. He was now standing right in front of me, only the candle and its light seemed to seperate us. The necklace in his hand was so close to me, I thought for a moment I could just grab it and then push him out of my way and run. But I remained motionless, staring back into his eyes. It seemed that he held me to where I was just by looking at me.

"Really, you are even more beautiful than I imagined." His voice had changed now, the slightly mocking tone from it had gone. "Have you allowed any of the humans to touch you?"

He reached out with his hand, the same hand that held the necklace, and touched my cheeks, just barely, with his fingers. His touch surprised me, it felt more real than I had thought it would, it felt human and warm. For a moment I wanted to forget where I was and who I knew him to be. At the same time, though, the very thought of him touching me gave me a feeling of fear and disgust.

"No, of course you haven't." His voice sounded satisfied. "Your beauty would have been destroyed by it. You weren't made for them."

His hand ran down from my cheek to my neck, and further down. My heart started beating faster when I realised what direction it was traveling to, and I had to summon all my inner strength to back away a little bit, just as much as the wall allowed me.

May, June, July! a voice chanted in my mind. another stormy and cold Halloween afternoon. My head hurt. I was in the third month of pregnancy.

"But... you are... my..." I couldn't say it.

"Your father?" he laughed.

Only when I heard the word, the whole truth of it dawned upon me, for a few seconds the memories of my childhood, strange things I had observed about myself flashed in my mind. Could this really be the reason for it all? Was it true?

May, June, July! May, June, July! I wasn't sure if I remembered myself counting the months so many years ago, or recalled the scene I had witnessed just minutes earlier.

I don't have a father. Everybody has a father. I was born in July.

The mocking tone that had returned to his voice was what called me back into the dark room, back to the man standing in front of me, back to the necklace in his hand that could maybe help me to find some normality in my life, help me ignore the things I had learned that day.

"You have lived in this world for too long. You think in human terms. We don't have mothers or fathers, or if we do, they are not any different to us than anyone else. But you are willing to risk your life for the woman you refer to as mother. How much else are you willing to do for her?"




Thirteen Years



His eyes held me on my place, it was impossible to look away for even a second to cast a glance at the necklace. I tried to give him a doubting look.

"You don't believe I will actually give it to you?" he said, before I could give form to the words that were inside my head. "You have to trust me a little bit. I thought it was of such importance to you that I am your father." He pronounced the word in a strange way, like something he couldn't quite grasp himself. "You are one of us. I am like you. You have to trust your own kind."

He set the candle on something that was right next to us, a shelf fixed to the wall maybe, or a table, some piece of furniture that I hadn't noticed before. The room had looked empty to me when I first entered it. But his eyes were still fixed on mine. Now with the light not as close to them anymore they looked darker, but they had the same power to them that made it impossible for me to look away from his face for even a second. He then took the necklace in both hands and held it up right between our faces.

"If you don't believe me, I will give it to you right now. Even if you do not trust me, I trust you."

The next moment he was putting the necklace around my neck. His face moved even closer to mine while he did so, I could feel his breath touching me.

***

Slowly the dizzyness that had swept through me subsided a bit. His face was so close to mine. Whose face was this? His breath smelled sweet like something I had never smelled before. His eyes seemed bigger, like a deep green sea I was about to drown in. I felt the metal of a necklace against my skin, it was warm, almost burning hot. Where was I? Why was I here? I wasn't sure of it anymore.

Then I felt his lips on mine, warm, human lips. It was as if I was moving through a dream. All I wanted was to respond to his kiss, to taste his mouth, feel his tongue find its way in between my lips.

'I am doing this for my mother', a voice somewhere inside me said, but I knew this wasn't true. Not anymore. There was also something inside me wondering who my mother was, or what, in fact, a mother was.

I felt myself being moved to the side, and the next moment I sat down somewhere, somewhere soft and comfortable. At the same time, the kiss ended, and I opened my eyes, for the first time looking around. To my surprise I found myself in a room full of furniture. It looked familiar – yet I couldn't remember what this place was. All light in the room came only from one candle that was standing on an old fashioned dresser by the wall, yet it was enough to see everything.

My head still felt strange and my memory blurry. I was't sure how I had gotten to this place, or even what had happened a minute earlier. I did, however, remember the kiss and all my body craved for more. For a second my eyes searched for the man I remembered to have been here as well.

He sat next to me on the bed. I had a vague memory that the fact I was here had something to do with this man next to me. We had talked about something just minutes earlier, but I had forgotten what it was. It had been something important, and I tried to think of it, but my head hurt from the effort. I just couldn't concentrate. All I knew now was that I didn't want to look away from the man next to me, that I wanted to sit here and admire him forever.

He reached up with one hand to touch my face and draw it nearer to his, and then he kissed me again, this time for just a few seconds. I tried to memorize the taste of his tongue, the texture of his lips. There was something about them that made me believe I would never be alone again. Then, as he had broken our kiss and his face was just far away enough from mine so we could see into each others eyes, his hand was still caressing my face.

"You really are even more beautiful than I thought you were going to be," he whispered. "I waited for you for so long. It was you I came back for."

I wasn't sure that I understood his words, somehow I believed we had sat in this room, next to each other, for all of eternity. Had he been gone? Had he been looking for me? I wanted to ask him, but I suddenly realised I was unable to speak. I felt heavy and tired, and at the same time more awake than I had ever been. Any speaking or thinking seemed like an impossible effort. All I wanted was for him to kiss me again, and it was just that he did.

While we kissed, I felt his hand let go of my face, I felt it touching my leg – and only at this moment I realised I wasn't wearing anything but a short and thin silk gown. Somehow I had expected to be wearing jeans and a thick winter jacket, but I didn't know anymore why I had thought so. And when I tried to think about it, it seemed only natural to me that I was dressed the way I was.

His hand felt soft on my leg, it caused a burning inside me I had never experienced before. I wanted him to touch me. I turned toward him as if to open myself more to him. His fingers found their way underneath the gown I was wearing, I felt them wandering further up my leg until they found the place they were looking for. At the same time his kiss grew more intense, almost demanding. He reached around me with his other arm, to pull my body closer to his.

I knew I had never been that close to anybody in my life, and yet I felt like I had been here, with him, in this very situation before.

He now stopped kissing me, to lift up my dress and pull it over my head. The feeling of the silk moving over my body made me shiver a little bit. I opened my eyes, and realised he was not wearing any clothing either – had he not been dressed just moments ago? I felt unable to ponder this question for longer than a few seconds. Somehow I lost myself in the way his dark skin looked in the candle light, then looking up I saw his eyes again.

We were now lying on the bed – I couldn't remember when we had laid down – and I felt his hands that seemed to explore every last bit of me, his tongue and lips that kissed not only my mouth, but also my neck, and my breasts, finding their way further down on my body. I felt his breath on my skin and finally he reached the area of my sex. I felt him kissing the skin around it, felt his tongue exploring everywhere, trying to taste every bit of me.

When I felt his lips touching me at the most sensitive spot I closed my eyes, to just feel, not think, not see anything that could distract me. It was as if my mind had been emptied of all thought except that which was related to what I was feeling. I wanted him to continue forever. I found my body moving almost against my will to be yet closer to his mouth, to let him access me even more easily.

Just when everything, my whole life and being, all I felt, seemed to be drawn into a precipice out of which I never wanted to emerge – just then, he stopped.

I was disappointed and couldn't help uttering a sound that very clearly showed that. But at the same time couldn't wait to see what he would do next. I knew he wouldn't just leave me hovering at this point of neither-here-nor-there I was at, and through the shimmering fogs that clouded my mind I could only find one clear thought: That of that I wanted to have him closer to me, as close as was possible for two beings to be. I had one of my hands in his hair, trying to coax him up to be above me, on me, in me.

He leaned his body up over mine, his legs lay between mine, the skin of his chest touched against my breast, his face was level with mine, and he started kissing me once again. I felt the weight of his body on mine, and I could feel his own arousal, pressed hard against me. He leaned himself up a little bit, with the help of his arms, breaking the closeness of our bodies just as much as was necessary.

I felt him there, about to enter me, and a slight fear mixed into my excitement. Questions formed in the back of my mind, faraway memories of what I had heard or thought. However, the fear itself turned into excitement, and looking up I saw the same green eyes that seemed to erase my mind from anything apart from the arousal I felt.

I felt him slipping inside me, little by little. I wanted him to urge to hurry, I couldn't wait any longer, but at the same time I knew it was better for him to be careful. Everything felt different to what I had imagined – but I didn't even know what I had imagined it to feel like. Througout all this time he kept looking right into my eyes, and I felt closer to him than to anyone I had known in my life.

Then, when he was all inside me, he paused for a few moments. When he started moving again I heard a loud moaning sound in the room – it took me a while to realise it was my own voice I heard.

He took up the pace and as he thrust deeper and deeper into me, I never wanted to let go of his eyes, I never wanted to stop and wonder how I had got here, who he was, who I was.

All I wanted was to feel, feel him. An annoying voice in the back of my mind seemed to chant the months of the year, but I pushed it away.

The candle bathed the room in a golden light, the details of everything around me blurred, but it was as if everything was glittering and shining and beautiful. The lights grew brighter and more golden with every moment that passed. If it was moments that passed – maybe it was years. I didn't know what time was, anymore.

He started kissing me again, and I wrapped my legs around him, to pull him deeper into me, to hold on to him. I wanted to be with him forever, feel the warmth of his body, the softness of his skin, feel him in me.

The waves of pleasure that overwhelmed my body were more than I had expected to be able to feel. How could so much feeling fit into my body without breaking it? I sank into an ocean that was only feeling, and held on to his warm body, and the golden light that seemed to explode in front of my closed eyes.

The warmth of his body and the light. The warmth. His body. The light. Darkness.

The light was gone, and so was the warmth. Only then did I realise that the body I still clung onto felt cold, the skin rough like that of a reptile.

In panic I opened my eyes. I was lying on the dirty and wet ground of a dark room in a ruined house. The roof above me was broken, and some drops of rain were falling through it onto me.

Above me, a creature was hovering. I couldn't see very well in the darkness, but recognized that its shapes looked human and yet not human. Its eyes were green – they glowed in the darkness.

For a few seconds I lay there motionless with fear and then I started screaming and trying to push away the creature from me.

The sound of a growl interrupted my scream, and I felt hands holding on to me, pinning me to the ground. Cold hands, hard hands, and I could feel long claws breaking my skin. My whole body hurt, and without being able to see much, I still realised that my skin was cut open at various places, and that the warm wetness I felt on my skin – also between my legs – was my own blood. The old wound on my foot had broken open again, and felt like I could never use that foot again.

One last time I tried to struggle myself free, but the glowing eyes of the creature seemed to paralyze me. They were cold, and somehow it was their gaze that made all of the memories return to my brain. I knew again where I was, who it was that was holding me onto the dirty floor. Most of all, I remembered my mother.

I felt the necklace around my neck and it was heavy and seemed to be lying directly on my throat, almost suffocating me. The frustration of having it right there and yet being unable to bring it to my mother's grave and save her, brought tears to my eyes. 

Then I realised that the creature's eyes were closer and closer to mine, that it leaned down my face. A moment later its lips touched mine, and I could feel a snakelike tongue slide into my mouth, I could feel sharp teeth biting my lips, and I felt the weight of the necklace pressing down on my throat.

I was unable to move and even breathing became more and more difficult. The room, the ruin of the house, the October night around me was dark, and it grew darker and darker. And darker.

***

"Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Mom, is this you? Where are you? I can't see you, it is so dark."

"Yes, it is me. I am very near. It is always dark under the ground."

"Mom, I am sorry that I failed."

"Don't be sorry, you didn't fail."

"You know, I got the necklace, but then I couldn't get away. I tried the best I could. I wanted to free you."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You didn't fail. You freed me."

"Then why is it so dark? Will it get lighter soon? I want to see you."

"You can't see me. You are under the ground. I am outside, the sun will rise soon. I am free. Someone had to take my place."

"What do you mean? Mom?"

"I am sorry, sweetheart, but that's the way it has to be. It was you he wanted all along. It's your place, you were destined for it. I once thought I could save you, back then, thirteen years ago, when he first came for you. But the thirteen years I spent in the place he took me to, have taught me different. I am just human, I am not made for that."

"No, Mom. You can't leave me here! I am human, too."

"You know better than that. You are one of them. This is what you were made for. I was lucky that you never tried to start anything with a human man. He wouldn't have wanted you anymore in such a case."

"But I was born to you. I was born to a human woman. I am human. I feel human. I am your child."

"How can you be my child if you were never a real child? My child was the son I was pregnant with before you invaded my womb. The son you pushed out to get yourself be born into our world. You killed my child."

"But how could I kill someone if I was not even born. Please, Mom."

"Don't call me Mom. Your kind does not have mothers and fathers."

"But Mom... Why?"

"I had to. Thirteen years in this place was as much as I could take. And he promised to make everything right again. He didn't want me, nor had he planned anything against me. All he wanted was you. He wanted you before you even were made – that is why he came to me in the first place. Now all will be right again. I will be young again, I will be pregnant with my own baby, he will be a son who grows up to marry and have a son of his own. Now, or twenty-six years from now, I will be a grandmother. And I will live a normal life in this house with my husband. With Eric. Did you know he was my fiancé? He never stopped believing that you were the baby I was pregnant with. Thinking that you were his daughter was the only thing that kept him alive throughout all his insanity. But now he won't remember. Time will go back and things will be right again. I will be the only one who remembers you, ever. For the rest of the world, you will never have existed, not even in as much as a story."

"But Mom, it's not my fault! I don't want to stay here. I want to live."

"I'm not your Mom, and you are not my child. You are not human, you can't live a human life. You were a mistake, you aren't real to our world."

"But Mom, please..."

"You must go now. He will take you to his place. That's where you belong."

"But Mom... I love you!"

"I love you too, sweetie. Now go."

"No, Mom... Please... Mom. Mom!" 



Thirteen



While this was going on the guy between my spread legs had been busy finger fucking my pussy; to help, it was possible to adjust my position slightly, by lifting my ass off the floor and giving him easier access.

Wow, but I was so turned on by all this attention, my pussy overflowed with the juices that now covered his hand.

"Don't stop," I managed to blurt out, " oh geez, I'm going to cumm...now." With that, I cried, "yess, yesss...oh god yes." As I let go, my orgasm brought a powerful wave of pleasure, that left me shaking.

When I came down from that heavenly trip, he stood, picking me up bodily, to drape me face down over the arm of the couch without ceremony. Everyone was naked now, Wichitaw had moved aside to be replaced by Tom, the only black guy in the group, he too had a big cock but not as thick. The guy who had fingered me so well got behind me, and between my legs, to slide his cock easily into my well-lubricated cunt, proceeding to give me the fucking that I desperately wanted.

Timing my movements to the guy in my pussy made it easy for me to match stroke for stroke on the black cock, as my hungry cunt now revelled in the fucking that it was getting. I had become ecstatic, this was definitely what I needed, a damn good fucking and today I knew that all my dreams would be coming true. There was raw, hot and hard cock meat all around me, with fellers gently stroking as they patiently waited their turn.

I had discovered that two girls together turn a man on like nothing else; with the exception of seeing two guys with the same girl; one in her pussy and one in her mouth, especially if he knew that he would be getting his rocks off too.

I wanted to keep them all on the boil knowing that they would cumm pretty quickly when buried in my pussy and mouth this first time around. This of course meant that they would be able to last that much longer second and third time, I anticipated a long and highly beneficial night for all of us.

The guy behind had begun pumping hard and fast now, very close to cumming, using my vaginal muscles I rippled them up and down his throbbing length to help him along. 

I could feel his fingernails digging into my hips, as with a cry like that of a wounded animal, he thrust hard into me to unload his hot sperm. Jetting deeply he filled me, as simultaneously Tom roared like a lion, shooting his precious cumm deeply into the back of my throat. As you are aware from the beginning of this narrative, I adore the taste of cumm, there is no other like it and Tom's sperm was no exception, hot, thick and creamy with just an edge of saltiness.

With both of them now spent; two other guys, not hesitating in the slightest, led me into the bedroom with a little cumm wet on the inside of my thighs, where they laid me on the bed, head hanging over the edge. Enter a guy, Rick I think they called him, with the longest cock I had ever seen, but not too thick around. It must have been at least eleven inches.

Fortunately I love to deep throat, but even I, had serious misgivings about this one. 'Surely,' I thought, 'he wouldn't be able to get that length down my throat, even well lubricated with cumm as it already had been.

Slowly and deliberately, he gently rubbed it from side to side across my lips, before pushing the head into my mouth; I smiled at him as best I could and relaxed my throat muscles. Gradually and so slowly, inch by delicious inch he fed it into me, past the point of initial resistance, and into my throat until I could feel his balls pressing against my nose threatening to cut off my air supply.

Unbelievably I had taken the whole length. Feeling a certain pride at being able to get such an exceptional length into my throat, I reckoned that this would have to be one for the Laura Book of Personal Records.

Putting his hands to either side of my head to hold it still, he began to fuck steadily, withdrawing the entire length before thrusting back into the deeper recesses of my welcoming throat. The feeling was incredible, with everyone standing around watching and still gently stroking. I could even hear the sound of Polaroid cameras whirring; the crew were actually taking pictures of me enjoying this enormous dick.

Feeling that Rick had become very close to cumming now I began rippling my throat muscles to urge him on. His timing was perfect as with a slight shudder he withdrew from my throat to explode into my mouth, enabling me to taste his beautiful cream. 

It was a great cumm, huge by any measure, this lovely guy giving me more than the previous two put together, I thought he would never stop. I was being forced to swallow a large amount very quickly to keep up with him, but even so, some of it still managed to dribble from the corners of my greedy little mouth.

Sadly, he had finished, and that so handsome weapon began to wilt. Even when slack it still hung down a very respectable plus of eight or nine inches, a cock that many men would envy, and a few girls that I knew would die for.

Two guys had been standing very close to us fisting their cocks while I had been deep throating, and from the sounds that they were making they were also about to cumm. I opened my mouth, stretching out my arms to them, indicating that I wanted them to spill their juices on me. They finished simultaneously, shooting their warm and sticky mess mainly over my face, some going into my mouth and the rest over my breasts and neck.

I love having cumm explode over me and began rubbing it into my skin, occasionally I would stop to scoop more of the delicious cream into my waiting mouth, I hated the thought of any going to waste. If there were a tax on this cream, I would be in permanent trouble with the Inland Revenue.

Another of them joined me on the bed, lying on his back beside me, telling me to straddle him. His was a nice thick cock, not too long, but very welcome in my hungry and somewhat insatiable little pussy, filling me wall to wall. Moving astride him I lowered myself easily onto this gem of a cock, feeling it slide in with consummate ease despite its thickness, due no doubt to the fact that my pussy was still filled with the plentiful amount from the first guy. I knew that I had moaned, but it felt so good and I quickly began rocking backwards and forwards on it.

A second feller climbed up onto the bed sporting a very angry looking, deep purple-headed cock, with a vein visibly pulsing along the top, and without preamble, just shoved it into my always-ready mouth. Mmmmm, I just loved a double penetration.

In a short while, someone else joined us on the bed. He wasted no time either, and I quickly felt a fingernail lightly scratching at my back door; I felt no pain, only immense pleasure, as my ass gets plenty of workouts because I just love the feel of it being used. For a short while he worked just one finger in and out before it was joined by a second, stretching my secondary hole this way and that.

I felt a most disappointing emptiness there when he withdrew them, but the guy in my mouth dropped down onto his knees, taking me with him; I giggled inwardly a little at this, thinking, just like a rabbit, head down and tail up. The feeling of sorrow swiftly dissipated as I felt a cock slowly feeding into my not so tight ass. Now I really groaned, as inch by inch he pushed that throbbing weapon deeply in, right up to the ball sac, before steadily fucking my back door. The intensity I feel from having a cock in my pussy and another in my mouth simultaneously is great, but when joined by a third in my second hole, it becomes indescribable.

Girls if you have not yet tried this, then I urge you to do so, take my word for it, you will think you have died and gone to that big fuck fest in the sky, especially if all three cumm together, and you along with them.

These fellers were really lighting my fire now, the rhythm set up by the two cocks in my pussy and ass was unbelievable. I did not dare use my pussy muscles knowing that it would bring them both off too quickly; I wanted to wait until I felt that the one in my mouth was ready. Instead, I went to work on my breasts, squeezing them and pinching the nipples, pulling and stretching them, I had only once before felt such intensity in them.

My feelings were raging out of control, I felt like a long dormant volcano ready to erupt, every nerve ending having become electrified. Each pinch of my turgid nipples sent urgent messages directly to my clit, I knew how swollen it had become, and to cap it all I was vaguely aware that the Polaroid cameras had also restarted their whirring.

Suddenly the realisation was upon me that the cock in my mouth had started swelling, the throbbing now hugely intense. He was about ready to unload his cumm; I could hear his moaning and shallow breathing, my head was hurting where his fingers were entwined in my hair. In an instant my cunt muscles went to work, milking the other two cocks, bring on their swelling and need to discharge along with the other one.

I could feel my own orgasm building and inwardly I cried out, 'yes, cumm for me now, give me your cumm.'

Almost as though he had heard me, the guy in my mouth immediately let fly, his hot thick cream filling me and oozing down my throat, the one in my ass cried out, "now, I not holding back no longer." The one in my pussy roared, as I felt his hot liquid exploding inside me to mingle with that of the first man, and with mine as I bucked underneath them.

My orgasm ripped through me with unbelievably huge the force. I screamed and shook, gyrated and cried out, as wave after wave of the biggest and most intense orgasm I had ever experienced threw my body around as though I were having a fit. They told me later that it had taken four of them to hold me in case I damaged myself; and that I had literally thrown the three men off the bed, such had been my intensity. This was without doubt the most all-consuming orgasm I had ever enjoyed.

Never had I been so fulfilled, for a long while afterward I shook and cried, I had never felt such absolute emotion, the fellers gathered around me, Wichitaw holding my spasm wracked body in his arms to comfort me. When I eventually began to register things around me once more, I became aware that I absolutely reeked of sex; it was as though female pheromones were oozing from every pore of my temporarily satiated body.

It had been a most incredible fuck and I had loved every second of it. Slowly I came back down to Earth again, still in Wichitaw's arm and helped by a steaming mug of hot and too sweet coffee. It was clear that none of them had ever witnessed such a gigantic orgasm as they all sat around the bed concerned for me.

Wichitaw asked if I wanted to go home now, but I had already decided to make a night of it and smiling said, "Wait until I have drunk my coffee and then we can go for phase two." The laughter was contagious, and for some reason these guys all wanted to shake my hand, which I though was very sweet of them. Handing my empty cup to Wichitaw I said, "okay fellers, a shower first and then who's next?"

A little shakily I got up from the bed and wandered into the shower room, where I quickly washed myself down, not forgetting to give the inside of my pussy a wash out with the shower head, and that nearly got me going again. I was so happy with this bunch of yahoo's that I bounded back into the room like a two-year-old filly.

Riding on such a high now, cock after cock became welcomed into my pussy, my mouth or my ass, I no longer had any idea who was inside me at any given point, but hey! I just let myself go and got with the programme, enjoying every second. I determined to let every one of them have the best fuck of their lives, and I'm pretty sure I succeeded. When I eventually got back to the villa, exhausted, I found thirteen envelopes in my bag as I fished for my key, inside each one a little card, with name and address and five hundred dollars. These wonderful guys had actually paid me six thousand five hundred dollars for their night of pleasure and my extreme orgasm.

Girls I can't really describe the mix of emotions that ran through me that night. I only know that with these rough, tough yet tender guys with great big hearts, I had enjoyed the kind of orgasm that we only ever dream about, and that I was so happy to have run into these fellers.

My decision to stay all night became life altering for me, by the morning my pussy, my mouth and my ass were all sore and fucked out. I had so many orgasms that I can't even begin to remember. The only thing that I can be certain of is that I had sucked at least thirteen cocks, another thirteen had exploded in my pussy and thirteen cocks had delivered their cream in my ass. How many times, I have no idea; I totally lost count after the triple penetration, either that or I just didn't care any more. 

What happened with my Master? Well, I left him, but soon found another who could keep me happy, a tall rangy Texan with china blue, violet tinged eyes, I'll never forget the time I decided to go to Mexico.

I wonder who it was that said thirteen was an unlucky number!



Lucky Thirteen: A Masters' Class in Anal



(This story contains characters from the 7th season of House MD and takes place a few months after the events of the series finale.) 

Martha M. Masters sat at the very front of her class, scribbling frantically. She hadn't missed a single word so far in a 2-hour lesson and she had no intention of slipping up now.

The young redhead was nearing the end of her time as an intern at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Soon she would receive her degree as a fully-fledged doctor. The lecture she was attending wasn't even required for her course, but Masters, being the nerd that she was, rationalized that a little extra knowledge never hurt anyone.

Deciding to continue her residency had taken time, in fact her first real break since she'd started studying medicine over 5 years ago. For all those years she had never wavered in her belief that this was her correct career path, that she belonged to this profession. Then she met House.

The time she spent working with the man had been the most bizarre, challenging and inspiring of her life. But it was also intense, insane and morally grey. By the end of her time with him she was stressed, fried and totally at a loss. All of her values had been put under question, her will tested. Hence the 3 month vacation.

The holiday had done the redhead good and she had spent the time freely enjoying the sunnier side of the world. Masters liked to think she'd matured as a result.

When she heard House had gone to prison Masters was forced to except reality. It was time for her to finish what she had started, get her degree and move forward from there. Without House issuing her insane challenges anymore becoming a Doctor actually seemed easy in comparison.

And so here she was, back in the hospital where it all began, pencil in hand, simply waiting for her time to end. With little left for her to do to complete her training Master's had been at a loss, still desperate to improve herself. Then she discovered Dr. Hadley.

The young doctor had also worked under House, taken his crap, fought the same battles Masters had. Like the redhead Dr.Hadley had come close to the edge of oblivion, yet she was stronger for it and was respected by all for her achievements. Master's simply idolized her. That was why she was here essentially, in the brunette's class.

Masters watched as the brunette Doctor used a hand to stroke her long wavy hair over an ear, surveying the class. As she moved across the stage the young woman gesticulated at the image displayed on the board behind her. 

For a person within a position of authority within the hospital, Dr.Hadley had made minimal effort to dress professionally, instead choosing clothes which teased the male students she taught endlessly. The young doctor wore black jeans, perhaps her tightest yet, and heels, which emphasized her toned frame. Complimenting these, a loose airy purple blouse was thrown casually over another of her casual tank tops. Masters' eyes lingered a few seconds longer than was necessary before she remembered where she was. Quickly her attention returned to her notes.

Once House was arrested it quickly became apparent to Thirteen she was out of a job. After her own year in prison the brunette simply had nowhere left to go. Only house would take on a doctor/ ex con and she had been grateful to him for it. But now he was gone she had to face reality. Life would never be as exciting again.

The hospital board had been kind however, offering her a teaching job in House's absence. It was a long shot but she was glad of the work and it kept her busy while she pursued other, less reputable interests. Despite this she doubted the position would last. She was a terrible teacher and she doubted she could get away with fucking any students. The brunette did her best to hide it, but she was desperately horny. It had been a while...

The lessons consisted of simple, beginner's stuff, bodily functions and explanations of internal symptoms. Easy, inherently boring topics. To keep from going insane she paid more attention to her students. 

From her vantage point she could measure up every young person in attendance. Thirteen, as always, was particularly interested in the girls that made up her class. All healthy, attractive and as bored as she was. There was however, a single redhead that especially caught her attention, who acted differently from the rest.

Masters had sat at the front of every one of Thirteen's lectures, asking questions at every possible opportunity. Whilst others half-heartedly listened, prepared to cram last minute rather than actually taking notes, this girl actively took part and seemed fully absorbed.

At first it had been kind of annoying, the redhead was after all way too advanced in her training for this class, supposedly being some kind of genius. So the brunette had been curt with her answers. But after a while Thirteen had had no choice other than to take Masters in, since the girl spent so much time vying for her attention and the brunette had effectively become the girl's mentor.

Thirteen studied Masters now as she talked. The redhead was small and cute, dressed like a classic teacher's pet. Not that Thirteen minded, after all she was the teacher. The redhead wore a surprisingly short skirts, this one black and adorned in flower motifs. Thirteen doubted it was intentional, but the hem of those tapered skirts ended just below the curve of her adorably pert behind. She also wore heeled pumps in a desperate attempt to increase her height and socks that came up to her knees. Then there were the tops, which were all crisp, yet stretched like she hadn't changed them since before puberty. This just resulted in the garments struggling to contain the young, supple breasts within. Today's blue number yet again failed to hide the glorious round globes. The wide black belt wrapped around her midriff, coupled with the girl's excellent posture, thrust her assets forward.

The girl was undeniably adorable, jotting away determinedly as Thirteen talked at length about the lower digestive tract and sphincter, personally her most intensely studied regions. She watched intently as the girl's big brown eyes flitted between her notepad and the brunette herself, all from beneath her fringe, which had become longer and less tidy since her time under House's tenure. 

Thirteen didn't tend to rob the cradle when she could avoid it, Masters carrying a little more baby fat than her usual conquests. But the brunette was hornier than ever and there was something about this girl that presented a challenge she simply could not pass up. She was tenacious and oblivious to how the rest of the world functioned. Thirteen became wet just imagining showing her how things really worked.

So when the young redhead asked for a moment of her time as the lecture finished, the brunette was powerless to resist, telling the girl to wait a second whilst she finished packing her bags. 

As the other students filed out noisily, Masters waited patiently at the desk just off to the side of the stage, nervous to finally have her teacher's full attention. She fidgeted, holding her books tightly against her chest as Dr. Hadley came over, smiling.

"Dr. Masters, I'm glad you've been taking such a keen interest, but I couldn't help but notice you've been taking even more notes than usual today. Fascinated by the rectum?"

Master blushed furiously, stumbling over words and averting her eyes as she replied: "Well of course the whole body is fascinating, but the sphincter just seems so off-limits, so private. Knowledge is power right??"

Thirteen feigned a frown, though internally she allowed herself a giggle. This girl was clearly a virgin, so uptight and nervous.

"You understand as a doctor there can be no region of the body your uncomfortable or unfamiliar with, right?"

Masters bit her lip, looking down at her shoes.

"I-I know, but I can't exactly get much experience of that region unless a patient comes in with a rectal ailment. Did you know only 2.5% of cases require the doctor to handle the anus? Weird right??"

"I think it's weirder that you know that..." Thirteen replied, though again she smiled warmly.

Again there was silence, Masters swaying awkward before she built up the courage to ask what she had been intending throughout the lecture: "I was just wondering if you knew anyway I could get some practice? You know, in that area..."

For a moment Thirteen was speechless. It was like this girl was offering herself to the brunette on a silver platter! She tried to stay calm, speaking slowly and carefully when she replied: "Well I can't summon a patient here for you to examine, but I could give you some basic one on one instruction. Of course, only if you're up for it..."

Masters nodded enthusiastically, thrilled to have a chance to learn from and maybe even prove herself to her idol. 

"Well... Do you know Dr. Malcolm's thesis on the lower digestive tract?" asked Thirteen pointing to one of the books in the redhead's arms.

Again Masters just nodded.

"You think you could use that amazing memory of yours to draw the full Malcolm diagram on my board?"

Master's leapt at the chance to impress the brunette Doctor and eagerly took a chalk piece from the young woman. Soon she was sketching away, a large image of the rectum, sectioned down the middle, began taking shape on the board.

Thirteen-leant back on the desk, watching as the girl worked tirelessly, eyes drawn to the girl's sweet little behind as she wiggled from left to right.

When Masters finished she turned to Thirteen intently, who addressed her once more as a teacher would a student:

"Not bad, so we at least know now that you have an idea of where everything is. But there's a difference between understanding and experiencing how a procedure works."

Thirteen rose from her leaning position and strode over to Masters, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders and turning her slowly so that she faced the board once more, before pushing the redhead forward and directing her palms onto its surface. Now Masters was mere millimeters from her own diagram, perplexed by where this was going.

"Now I'm going to try a visualization technique which will help you identify with your patient. Close your eyes and imagine your diagram.

Masters did as she was told, and Thirteen watched gleefully as her brow furrowed in concentration. Then the brunette allowed her own hands to slide down the young redhead's back slipping along her spine, inching her waist forward until she was in a more arched position, like Masters was doing push ups against the board.

Masters big brown eyes sprung open as she felt a hand descend onto one of her ass cheeks, gasping as long fingers squeezed her skirt clad buttocks.

Master's attempted to turn but Thirteen used another firm hand to hold her in place.

"Sorry but I was just wondering how this will help me learn..." Masters flinched, yelping mid-sentence as the brunette slapped a palm against one of her cheeks before continuing to fondle her most private region. Had she just been spanked?

"Shhhhh! Keep those eyes closed and remember what I've taught you. The best way to understand a treatment is to know its application inside out. This way you can get to grips with every aspect and relate to the patient. Did you know you have a perfect behind? Supple, tight but with plenty of give??

Masters shook her head, deeply embarrassed whilst also flattered. Mainly however, she was thoroughly perplexed.

"Well it is perfect. Now seeing as you're so interested I suppose I could demonstrate how to work with the female posterior... Just stay still whilst I make some adjustments."

Masters obediently stayed in position against the board as Thirteen crossed to the lecture room's door and locked it, before pulling the blind. Then she opened her rucksack and pulled out a tub of her homemade lubricant.

The clear gel was a freshly mixed batch of thirteen's secret aphrodisiac. When applied to a woman's privates the formula drastically increases sex drive by stimulating hormones. The poor virgin redhead wouldn't know what hit her.

Thirteen then repositioned herself behind the anxious girl, placing the now open tub on the rim of the blackboard before them, where chalk was usually kept.

Masters didn't resist when she felt Dr. Hadley press a hand into the small of her back forcing her to turn her head so that her cheek was against the chalky surface. Her bosoms soon followed suit. This left her back arched and her butt dangerously vulnerable.

"Do you trust me Masters, as your teacher??"

"Of course I do." 

And the redhead genuinely did trust Thirteen, in spite of her current vulnerability. Dr. Hadley was a colleague and her teacher. Masters was so desperate to be a better doctor she was prepared to sacrifice a little dignity.

"Alright, then I need you to lean forward more and widen your stance. That's better."

Thirteen used her feet to push Masters' own further apart before pulling the girl's hips back into her own. Then her hands delved back between the soft globes beneath her.

Masters shuddered as Dr. Hadley began sliding her hands slowly, almost sensually up the back of her thighs before finally reaching her virgin behind, pushing her skirt up and around her waist. The brunette then began methodically squeezing and weighing her soft globes, as if her butt was a ripe piece of fruit. 

Martha remembered however, what her fellow doctor had told her and visualized the female posterior whilst her own was so close to being violated. Thankfully for Thirteen this kept her distracted enough to keep her anxiety at bay.

Behind the brunette licked her lips, eyes glued to the succulent baby bottom of the girl before her. She was so innocent, so easy to manipulate. Even the intern's panties reflected her virginity, girly y-fronts decorated with bright rainbow colours. The brunette didn't let this distract her from her prize however and slipped the tiny childish garment over the girl's butt focusing on the rosebud concealed beneath.

Master's opened her dark eyes once more as she felt her undies drop to between her spread ankles, suddenly realizing the true nature of this learning technique. She was prepared to step back and confront Thirteen on this latest development, but the brunettes strong stance still held the redhead powerless, against the board.

"Dr. Hadley, I'm not sure if I'm ready to experience this, I'm not even a full doctor yet." 

Thirteen pressed her crotch and chest into the girl's back, becoming flush with her prey against the blackboard, brushing hair over Masters' ear before breathing into it seductively:

"This will liberate you Masters. Even help loosen up your patient care. I'm doing all the work and this is just a favour. Why would you back out?"

Thirteen rubbed the girl's tight ring with one hand, drawing a finger around it soothingly and in ever-smaller circles. This distracted the girl's attention from what the other hand was doing, delving into the tub just beside them and gathering gel between her digits. 

"I- I know, but I've never even been touched d-down there. And I ate recently..."

"I'll be nice and gentle, just visualize what I'm doing to you and name the components I touch. Easy."

"ohhkay, I... mmmmpph! I ohh, unngh!"

Masters whimpered as she felt her soft virginal cheek being pulled forcefully apart before a long finger was worked into her tight sphincter. It felt so wrong and yet immediately she became hotter and wet. 

Thirteen had to push hard to insert her index finger, the redhead was so tight and tensed up. The young girl had to rise up onto her tiptoes just to accommodate the intrusion and she desperately widened her already stretched stance. Clearly she was going to have to relax the girl further. So without waiting for permission she moved her other hand between Masters' legs, cupping the quivering girls snatch and then messaging her soft clitoris. 

Masters bucked involuntarily pressing herself even harder into the wall, before feeling a new sensation. This other intrusion into her other most private orifice felt good, really good. The slightest movement sent waves of pleasure to her brain and within seconds she was more relaxed, even wanting more.

Thirteen felt the girl beneath sigh and uncoil from her built up tension. The redhead was like putty in her hands, melting into the brunette. Then she felt the poor girl's stomach rumble and braced herself.

Masters groaned and then reddened violently when she began involuntarily passing gas, her whole body shaking as she got some much needed release.

Thirteen grinned, this girl was so tightly wound that this reaction had been inevitable. And the fart had been an adorable drawn out squeak.

"I'm so sorry Dr. Hadley, that was totally inappropriate and embarrassing. I..."

Thirteen cut her off sharply: "Shhhhh. It's totally natural. The first thing you need to learn as a doctor is to give up on embarrassment, you need to let these things fly to put your patient at ease." Thirteen rubbed her the redhead's stomach, before continuing: "Just remember that you can't control your reaction and focus on how your body's automatic responses. I'm going to go deeper now."

Thirteen then began adding another finger, slowly and as softly as possible. Masters' adorable rosebud clamped down on both hard but this was only a minor defensive reaction and soon Thirteen had squeezed in two digits up to the knuckle. Then to loosen her up sufficiently, the brunette began twisting and turning them inside the girl's back passage. 

The small redhead struggled to get a hold of what was being done to her. The sensation of her mentor's fingers delving into her behind both extremely strange but also weirdly pleasurable. As Dr. Hadley twisted her hand around her sphincter the small girl gradually began to move in sync with her.

Martha nearly buckled when Thirteen withdrew her fingers, but then tensed as a cold gel was slapped in generous quantities onto her anus and then pressed deep into her sphincter. Soon she began to feel a growing warmth which made it increasingly hard for her to concentrate on her knowledge of the digestive tract. 

Thirteen watched the redhead fall apart before her, as Masters began twitching and gyrating involuntarily. Soon her thighs began rubbing together feverishly as the gel began dripping down her stockings. Thirteen had to physically stop and pull the girl's legs apart before continuing. Dealing with an intense virgin like Masters was tougher than she first thought possible.

Masters felt a hand rise to her mouth and instinctively opened it to speak. Before she could however the digits, which until recently had been in her butt, were stuffed between her pink lips. 

The redhead gagged, attempting to spit out the digits, unable to comprehend what she was tasting. Before she could respond properly however Dr. Hadley's other hand speared back into her own pooper and she was pressing herself against the board once more. This time another digit had been added and Martha was glad to have a distraction, whilst sucking hard helped her to keep quiet.

The brunette's hand also tasted surprisingly good, long fingers sliding deep into her own mouth. She sucked at them diligently. The red head realized she was tasting her own ass, which was both tart and earthy. But it felt so good, almost addictive like she was sucking on her own thumb. At least, that was how she rationalized it.

Thirteen kept Masters hooked to her fingers, knowing the redhead was powerless to resist the intoxicating gel. The girl was soon slurping greedily at her hand like she was possessed and this made it easy for the brunette to focus on the girl's exposed behind.

So the young doctor redoubled her efforts now using four fingers to spread her formula over the tight walls of Masters' anus, swirling and pumping until the girl was even more cooperative.




Lucky Thirteen: A Masters' Class in Anal



By this point the usually uptight teacher's pet was bouncing Lewdly on the young doctor's hand, still desperately trying to reach the fingers above her face, balancing on her toes to reach them. This just gave Thirteen easier access.

Masters moaned deliriously when Thirteen finally pulled her left hand free and was then forced to grit her teeth as it joined the other in sodomising her butt hole. To Masters it felt like she was being torn apart as two sets of fingers began exploring her sphincter, prying her cheeks wide apart. 

Thirteen saw tears begin to build up in the corners of the redhead's eyes and felt a pang of guilt. So she slowed her penetration once more and squeezed herself against the young redhead, cooing into her ear.

"Ohhh, it's okay. You're doing so well. Just remember to concentrate on the feelings I'm giving you and to hold still. Good girl, that's it, push back. Good girl!"

Masters blushed. She loved praise and still idolised the doctor that was working away at her. The redhead was always desperate to please figures of authority. And the pleasure soon outweighed the pain, confusing the already lost girl further. The pumping twisting sensation burned her loins with intense pleasure unlike anything she had felt before. So weird and wonderful. And then suddenly she was left feeling horribly empty as thirteen pulled away, her fingers coming free with a loud pop.

"okay I think I've loosened you up enough for you to experience a small colonoscopy." thirteen said as she crossed to the desk and open her bag once more. From within it she pulled her favourite strap on.

The brunnette then stepped behind the shaking girl once more before deftly unbuckling her own belt and pulling down her slacks. Then the young doctor strapped the large member around her own waist before bracing herself against Masters, teasing the head between the girl's legs.

Now The best way for you to learn here is if I stay still and you do the work, so you need to back onto my scope and press it into yourself. Think you can do that?"

Masters nodded and stepped backwards on shaky legs. Thirteen bent her knees to make up for their significant height difference.

Masters felt a hard object press between her cheeks and saw the colonoscope in her mind's eyes. She bent further forward before guiding the tip into her butthole. She cried out as the large member entered her behind gradually, the excessive lubrication of the gel making the job considerably easier.

Thirteen watched, wide eyed as Masters speared herself on the dildo, bracing herself against the board so that her base stayed rigid. 

Masters hands swung around wildly, desperate to find enough purchase to continue but only finding open air. As a result she had no choice other than to grab at Dr. Hadley herself. This time it was Thirteen's turn to gasp as master's flailing hands found her own panty clad ass cheeks, nails digging into her firm behind, her fingers tangling in the red lace of her thong. As the anal invasion continued Masters even tightened her grip, unintentionally giving a wedgy to the superior doctor. Thirteen loved the sensation.

In this position Inch by inch the dildo penetrated the helpless girl, taking her anal virginity as her rosebud was forced wide open around the large shaft. Masters panted freely but eventually had all 12 inches of the dildo deep into her ass, the tip embedded in her lower colon. 

Finally Masters registered her soft bottom slapping naked thighs behind her, but was incapable of reasoning, her focus entirely on the huge object that filled her rectum.

"Good girl!" said Thirteen, as patronizingly as ever "that's a nice stick." Thirteen began rotating her hips, swirling the dildo and the gel that covered it deep into the girl's bowels:

"Now you're obviously spent so just hang onto me any I'll do all the pumping for you. Just keep remembering that we're now right into your colon. Take deep breaths, that will loosen your abdomen."

Thirteen began slowly removing the dildo. As she did Master's butthole squelched delightfully. The redhead squirmed, bracing herself, without the colonoscope deep in her sphincter she felt strangely empty and the contents of her bowels twitched unsettling.

Then she groaned and slumped back against Dr.Hadley as the brunette thrusted hard back into her butthole raising her onto her toes, before pulling back once again causing her to mewl pathetically.

Soon Thirteen had a regular rhythm going, pushing harder and faster into the long gone Masters. For all her intelligence and paranoia the girl had lost all of her composure. Her head lolled from side to side and her big brown eyes started upwards; unfocused on the ceiling. Her soft pink mouth was wide open, forming a silent 'O' as she was penetrated repeatedly.

Whilst she stuffed the young Intern, thirteen's hands were free to roam the girl's heaving body, the mind that controlled it too wrapped up to notice the fondling. 

For Thirteen this girl was just too adorable, all soft and warm. One hand played with Masters' belly button whilst the other fondled the redhead's glorious breasts, which bounced delightfully with each thrust. Soon both hardened as the brunette pinched each nipple, becoming points.

Master's was now unbearably hot, panting ferally whilst she shuddered like she was on a horse's saddle, not a fellow Doctor's dildo. Soon her pulse was racing and a stronger sensation spread from her loins, carrying her whole body.

"Dr-Dr. Hadley! I think I'm experiencing something new, my heart rate is increasingly exponentially whilst I'm feeling, ahhhh, pleasurable sensations."

Thirteen however, was just coming to a boil and wanted both of them to orgasm together, so when she had to speak convincingly:

"Those are bowel tremors, normal but not ideal! You need to fight those sensations, push them back down!"

Masters did her best, thinking of the diagram, now a little smudged before her, that depicted a woman's digestive tract.

Desperately she clenched her bowels, tensing her cheeks and abdomen. Dr. Hadley however just doubled her force, lifting the redhead clean off the floor now with each thrust. Master's teared up once more, drops mingling with the sweat on her face, now delirious with pleasure and fatigue:

"I-I, can't fight it anymore Dr. Hadley, It's too much!"

Thirteen groaned with effort, clenching her teeth before she came abruptly. Wildy she pitched forward, crushing Masters against the board as she orgasmed, hard. Throughout she never stopped thrusting, the redheads poor rectum pounded until it was effectively useless.

"Let go now!"

The young intern came on command, though to the hapless girl she had no idea of the pleasure's true nature. All of her body let go at once and she felt an immense sensation of release, her bowels rumbling as they were mercilessly squeezed. 

Then she burst repeatedly, her pussy giving way and squirting the board in front of them, spattering Master's diagram.

The girls clung to each other, exhausted. Slowly they began to come down, sliding down the board a little as Thirteen came to a stop. Both were utterly exhausted.

Thirteen eventually recovered enough before slowly beginning to pull her dildo free of the redhead's butt, but abruptly stopped when Master's exclaimed:

"Please don't. I- I don't think I can handle you doing that right now. I-I, just need a sec."

Unbeknownst to Thirteen, the redhead's attempts to stop the 'rectal tremors' had an unintended side affect. Clenching her abdomen had cause Master's to let go off her lunch, and it was taking all of her energy just to stop herself from soiling her superior Doctor.

Thirteen, turned Masters' head, saw the beads of sweat on her forehead, the strain in those big dark eyes, the fear and simply guessed the rest.

"Ohhh, I see... Can you hold it till you get to a bathroom?"

Masters gritted her teeth, shaking her head as she replied:

"if I move I'll burst. Ohhhh, this is so embarrassing."

Thirteen stroked Masters' hair cooing softly, them remembering the other items he had in her bag.

"it's okay, just hold still while I pull out the colonoscope. I can help you."

Thirteen stepped back, her dildo squelching free with a pop. Masters groaned and twitched but kept her eyes of the blackboard. Thirteen inspected the girl's once tight rosebud and cheeks as she removed the phallus and quickly pulled up her tight slacks. The redhead's butt was now bruised and gaping. No wonder this girl was on the verge of soiling herself, anyone would be.

The brunette then crossed to her bag, replacing her dildo and retrieving a round, plastic white instrument that she brought back over to Masters. Then she knelt behind the redhead, praying the girl was still holding strong as she quickly lathered the object in her special gel before raising it into position.

Martha yelped as another foreign object plunged into her sphincter, going deep inside before lodging itself there. Now she couldn't relieve herself even if she wanted to, her rectum effectively corked. Dr.Hadley had inserted a butt plug.

Thirteen stood back and admired the results, the girl shaking but now attempting to move, testing the foreign object in her loins. When it didn't give the redhead sighed and then groaned. Any sharp movements were uncomfortably tight and for reasons that deeply disturbed her the redhead was now even more aroused than before, the extra gel messing with her head.

Thirteen nodded approvingly: "That will do it, but try not to move too fast or bend over far, that won't end well."

The brunette then helped tidy the young intern up, pulling up her adorable panties before covering them with the ruffled up skirt around Master's hips. Then thirteen passed the redhead her books from the desk before leading her to the door."

"well I hope that was informative, you now should have a pretty good idea of what a patient feels when their digestive tract is pumped."

Masters nodded feebly, dark eyes still wide and unfocused. The redhead did react however, gasoing when Thirteen continued:

"This actually presents another learning opportunity. I want you to keep that plug in for the rest of the day. That will give you an even better understanding!"

Masters gaped: "But, but! I have another lecture now. I can't stay like this all day!"

Thirteen gave the girl her most authorative stare: "Don't disobey the teacher Masters, I could still fail you. Just think of this as unofficial extra credit and I'll see you tomorrow."

Thirteen squeezed the girl's soft behind fondly before sending her away, grinning from ear to ear.

Masters walked away slowly, moving awkwardly. Her stance was noticeably wider than usual.

The teacher's pet wouldn't take another note all day, incapable of sitting still or focusing. Instead she would fidget and squirm on her sore butt, desperate to relieve herself and hornier than ever before. 

Thirteen laughed as she locked her the lecture room's door, strutting away down the corridor. Very satisfied.

Masters would be getting a few more private lessons is week. 



Thirteenth & Main



Kara laughed as the man with her finished the longwinded joke.

"I can’t believe you said that," she chuckled He smiled and took a sip of his drink before placing it back on the table. Kara was an attractive twenty-two year old artist from the eastern side of town. She frequently came to this particular club, mostly for the atmosphere, and the abundance of men. True, some of them were younger than her teen-aged brother, trying to act big and bad. But most were men her age. Raven was a different sort of club. Not exactly her type, but she felt like she actually belonged with all of the grimly dressed people. She herself wore dresses that weren’t nearly enough for a Barbie doll, much less her shapely frame. But those clothes were saved for clubs and times when she just felt like being flirty. She looked to her companion and smiled.

"Zane, I hate to break this evening short, but I think I should go before I get too tipsy to drive home." He nodded and said he understood. He stood as she put on her jacket, and kissed her cheek. 

"I’ll tell Shayna you said hi..." Kara hugged him and exited the crowded club. 

Kara walked into the calm night air, and over to an old car that was parked around the building. As she sat in the driver’s seat, she removed her jacket. The alcohol from earlier had made her a bit warmer than she was used to. She started the engine and pulled from the parking space. The clock on her stereo read eleven forty-five. She pushed a series of buttons and the speakers came to life with sounds of heavy bass-filled rhymes. Her finger tapped the steering wheel as she came to a stoplight. The car began to stall, but came to its senses as the light flashed to green once again.

"That’s what I get for buying something from Joey..." She sighed and turned down Main street. The headlights began to blink on and off, and the noises and shaking got worse. Kara muttered under her breath, threatening the car not to stop. She saw a phone up ahead on the corner. 

"Please don’t die on me now...Please" As if the car was trying to get it’s vengeance, with one last shake, it shut off. 

"FUCK!!" She slammed her hands on the dashboard and sat back in her seat. She turned the keys, trying to start it back up. Nothing happened. Kara tried several times before giving up. Her cell phone had been left at home to recharge, so she had no choice but to walk to the phone up ahead. Grabbing her keys and purse, she looked around her. She’d somehow ended up in the poorest part of town there was. Abandoned buildings, homeless children. A shelter was somewhere off to her left, she couldn’t tell exactly. 

Kara stepped out of the car and locked her door behind her. She hoped her top and skirt would hold up to the breeze that blew through the empty street. As she began her walk to the booth, she heard heavy footsteps behind her. She turned to look, but saw no one. There were only the sounds of traffic far off in the distance. She started walking again. Only this time, the sounds were closer, and a voice in her ear.

"Mmmm. This one looks nice.." The voice was a whisper, like the sound of wind going by an ear. Kara whirled around, anxiously trying to find who had said those words. And again, nothing was to be seen.

"Damn, Kara. You’re drunker than you thought," she mumbled to herself. At last she had reached the phone. As she dialed the number of a friend, she felt a hand on the bottom of her skirt, pulling it higher on her leg. She looked down but saw only the ground below. There was no answer, so she decided to try another number. Kara closed her eyes in disappointment and leaned against the phone. As she stood there, she felt the buttons on her shirt begin to undo. She looked down slowly, and nearly screamed. Each button was undoing itself!!

Her hands braced her body against the glass as an invisible hand snaked it’s way up her skirt. She couldn’t help but bite her lower lip in frustration. The hand seemed to be squeezing the soft flesh of her thigh, kneading it gently. She groaned out as she felt a tongue begin to to lap at her skin, her kneecaps, her thighs, then resting upon her satin panties. She was filled with confusion as yet another pair of hands began rubbing her breasts through her bra. They, unlike the ones on her legs, were more feminine , softer. They pulled the lace of her bra down below her nipples, toying with them. Kara’s head was spinning as she tried to comprehend what was happening to her. Hands she couldn’t see, voices she couldn’t place with actual people. She felt as though she were going crazy, until something started happening, the tongue at her panties eased between the material and her skin. 

"Come on baby," a female voice urged. "Quit teasing her, I wanna watch you lick this little thing." 

Kara’s eyes opened . She saw a face, then at long last an entire male form. He was gorgeous! Black hair, The bluest eyes she’d ever seen, his skin pale and toned. She didn’t know how to react as he smiled at her. There was something wrong though. Why couldn’t she hear him coming up behind her? She laid her head back, and felt it come in contact with a shoulder. She looked up and saw a girl. She was sitting on the shelf beside the phone. Her face was contorted in a mischievious smile as she stroked Kara’s face with a thin finger. Kara closed her eyes as she felt the young man’s tongue plunge into her pussy. She felt him move it from side to side, sucking on her clit each time he thrust it in. Kara moaned out lightly as the tongue of the man went faster inside of her, it’s thickness nearly enough to make her come right there. She reached for his head, running her hands through his dark hair, shuddering in delight. 

"I think she likes it sweetie," the girl cooed. 

Kara arched her back every time his hand came in contact with her clit. He looked behind her to the girl, smiling at his companion and lightly nipped Kara’s clit with his teeth. The young man licked violently at her slit, sucking and biting with so much enthusiasm, it made Kara weak in the knees. She cried out in ecstacy as he began to tongue-fuck her rapidly. She tossed her head back, feeling the girls lips on her neck as her companion lapped at Kara’s pussy. Kara felt herself ready to come and told the young man. He grinned at his companion and sucked harder on Kara’s clit. Kara screamed out in the cold night air, noticing all the people walking by the booth. No one even seemed to take notice that the three of them were in there. The young man closed his eyes and forced two fingers inside of Kara. She felt the girl’s hands roam over her heaving chest as she came. 

"Wow. She came harder than you Mandy. . . " His companion smiled and began to take off her own top, massaging her transparent breasts with darkly painted nails. She held Kara against her as the man stood up and began undoing his baggy jeans. He watched Kara as he stroked his now hard dick. His companion licked and nuzzled Kara’s ears and neck. Kara groaned as she was turned around, now facing the girl. She watched the girl as she sat upon the bench in the booth. Her hands were now rubbing at her own dampness, her fingers toying with the lacing on the front of her leather pants. Kara looked her over. The way her midnight blue hair was pulled into two buns atop her head, the way the circles around her eyes were so dark they almost swallowed her existence. Just as she was about to touch the girl’s face, she felt the young man slip himself into her from behind. The three of them gasped simultaneously, then breathed harder as the man began to slide in and out. Mandy, as he’d called her, was undoing the lacing of her pants, slowly pulling them down to her ankles. Kara saw that she had no underwear on, nor had any hair between her legs. Mandy spoke up.

"Daniel doesn’t like me to have hair.Says it gets in his way." Daniel and Kara both groaned as he began to go faster, soon grabbing onto her hips the faster he went into her. Kara watched as Mandy began fingering herself harder, watching her boyfriend take his pleasure from another girl. Daniel seemed to almost growl as he started to speak. 

"Lick her for me Kara, make my baby come, while I make myself come in you..." Kara looked back at him as his grunts grew louder in tone. She then turned back and looked at Mandy. The look in her eyes was somehow intriguing to Kara, begging her to try it. She leaned in, tasting the wetness that had begun to flow from the girl. Without question, Kara began to lick at the folds of Mandy’s pussy, sucking her clit, just the way Daniel had done hers. She mimmicked everything she’d felt, from the way he licked her entire slit, to the way he’d furiously tongue fuck her to get her to scream in frustration. Her hips ached as his nails dug deeper into them. He was now pounding into her, the throbbing inside him getting stronger and stronger with each thrust. Kara could feel herself tighten, squeeze him as that warm feeling built up once more. Mandy had started to grab Kara’s head, forcing her closer to her own wetness. She rolled her head from side to side as she too felt herself ready to let herself go. 

"Aww. Damn. Mandy, baby, I think I’m gonna come, you want me to come with you?" The man’s companion screamed out her approval.

"Yeah. Come all in her, I want all of us to feel it." Kara moaned out as she felt him give in to his animalistic side. The way he tore into her, made her lick the girl even more.

"You ready, Kara?, I’m gonna come. . ." The words from Mandy were enough to set off a chain reaction. Soon after, Daniel began shouting that he was going to let go, and let go he did. He held tight to Kara, thrusting and jerking as he shot inside of her. He thrust once more, feeling the strength drop out of him. Kara felt Mandy come, her thin body shaking under Kara’s tender grasp. The three of them soon sat gasping for air, holding to each other like children in a storm. Kara’s eyes got heavy as she laid her head in the girl’s lap, the smell of her orgasm filling her nostrils. The young man held the two girls, kissing each of them lightly. 

Kara groaned, her eyes fluttering open. She looked around. The man and woman were gone! so was the phone booth. But, she had just been there, just been having the most incredible orgasm she’d ever remembered having. Her clothes were still on, still in one piece. She could’ve sworn he’d taken a knife to her. She screamed as a hand was placed on her bare shoulder.

"Calm down young one." She let her eyes focus. An elderly man stood there, his old eyes gazing cautiously at Kara. "What are you doing out here this late?"

"I was using the phone...or at least I thought I was. It was right here! A booth. On this corner right where we’re standing. " The old man looked at her seriously for a moment. His look gradually took on concern. He began to speak.

"Why, my dear girl, I live in this apartment building. There hasn’t been a phone booth her for at least, ten years. Not since the drive-by. A young couple, around your age were gunned down in a phone booth one night. Nobody knows why. Your cars fine. For some reason that happens whenever someone drives through. They don’t stop though. Go, now, get some rest. " 

As Kara looked up to the street signs, she smiled. She knew why they were there. She knew what they’d been doing that night. She got into her car, and started the engine. Before she pulled away she pulled out a piece of paper and pen and scribbled something down. She repeated it out loud, a smile on her face.

"Thirteenth . . . and Main . . ."

End



Thirteenth Floor Please



Tom walked out of his hotel room on the 17th floor and went to the elevators. He was staying in a large hotel in a major Mid-Western town. Like most large hotels, the elevators were grouped together. Eight elevators serviced this hotel.

Tom pushed the down arrow to call the elevator. Into his consciousness popped a memory of being in this same situation as a kid on one of his family's vacations. He and his sister Kate would play a game trying to guess which elevator would open for them. They would stake their claim to one set of doors and then giggle and run to another. If they ever were standing in front of the elevator that actually opened, they would let out a cry of victory and say, "Of course the elevator opens for me. All doors open for me."

Tom laughed to himself recalling those carefree days when elevators were magical. Today, when he thought about elevators, if he ever thought about elevators, it was because they took so long to come. Or when they finally arrived, they were too full to accept you. Worst yet, was when you got on one and it stopped at every floor on the way to the lobby. That trip took forever and of course, by the time you reached the lobby the crowd was crushing you.

"Oh for the days when elevators were fun and exciting," Tom said out loud. He shook his head and continued, "I've been traveling too much. Now I'm talking to myself."

The chime rang and Tom got aboard the empty elevator and pushed the button for the lobby. As he got to the 16th floor the machine stopped and an Asian couple got on. The elevator stopped at the 15th floor and a pair of middle-aged ladies in tennis outfits came aboard. At the 14th floor, three black college students, two females and a male, hopped on. From their attire, Tom assumed they were headed to the pool.

"Not again!" an exasperated Tom thought to himself, "am I destined to re-live my stop-at-every-floor elevator nightmare?" The bell in the elevator rang again signaling another stop. Tom said to himself, "The answer appears to be, yes I am." 

As the elevator stopped, the small light bulb with the number 13 lit up. Tom thought, "That's funny. Not many building have a thirteenth floor." The doors to the elevator did not open. Instead a fly did. The Oriental women had turned to her mate and unzipped his pants. She reached in and fished out his soft penis. As Tom watched, she got down on her knees and began to give him a blowjob. To say the Tom was startled would be an under statement. Tom turned to see the reaction of the other riders. No one seemed concerned. They all were, however, in motion.

The taller, blonde tennis player bent over at the waist as if to pick up something. Her partner, a brunette, reached under the blonde's tennis skirt and pulled down her frilly panties. There wasn't anything underneath. The blonde stood up, stepped out of her panties and reached over to help her partner take off her shirt. The two continued undressing each other until all they had left on were their tennis shoes. The blonde proceeded to lie down on her back. The brunette climbed on top and just like that, the two women were in the classic "69" position licking each other's pussy.

While this was happening, the pool-going trio was discarding their clothes. As Tom turned his gaze their way, he could see the girls were all ready naked. They stood facing each other rubbing their breasts together while kissing each other fully on the mouth. They both had brown hair and eyes. One of them had a fuller, more lush figure. Above her not so narrow waist were 36 B sized tits that had large auroras and below, she had a rather curvaceous 38-inch bottom and a neatly trimmed pussy. The other women had her brown hair cut short in a boyish style. She was more slender than her friend, probably 34A-26-36. Her smaller breasts had brown, puffy nipples and her pubic hair was untamed and abundant. The women were about the same height, 5'2". As they embraced, they were nipple to nipple. Their male companion was still busy stripping. He pulled off his bathing suit to reveal a naked 6" erection with some girth to it. By naked I mean hairless. He had shaved off all of his pubic hair.

Tom shook his head in disbelief thinking, "What was this, an X-rated Candid Camera? A personal trip to the Twilight Zone?" He looked around at the debauched scene in amazement. No one seemed to be the least bit concerned about where he or she was or what he or she was doing. They did seem to be aware of each other. The Asian man reached out and stroked the butt on the curvaceous pool girl. The pool boy stroked his rod to a full erection while watching the "love-love" tennis match taking place on the floor. 

The pool bunnies stopped rubbing up against each other. The slender went over and one interrupted the Asian girl's blowjob. She had her stand up and began taking her clothes off. The Asian cocksucker did not protest. Her partner, the recipient of her oral foreplay, used the break in the action to take his clothes off. The curvaceous swimmer came to Tom and to his amazement and without some much as one word began to undress him. In a minute all parties were naked.

The licking tennis players were still at it. The pool bound young man now fully erect rubbed the tip of his penis against the pussy of the top tennis partner, the brunette who had her tail in the air. Without waiting for any encouragement or even acknowledgement, he entered her. The brunette's moaning increased reflecting the double attention she was receiving. She had a dick in her pussy and a tongue working on her clit and she liked it.

They nude Asian women beckoned for her mate to return. She resumed the blowjob, but now the slender pool bound brunette helped out. The two of them took turns on the Oriental prick. However, that situation didn't last long. The Asian man positioned his partner on her back and directed the black girl with the boyish haircut to get on her hands and knees and eat the pussy of his countryman. He then took advantaged of her up turned butt by penetrating her anally with his thin dick. The trio bucked and rocked and licked. They filled the room with their pleasure-filled moans.

While this was going on, the curvaceous black pool girl had been sucking Tom's cock. Having achieved the desired level of hardness, she had Tom lie down on his back. She got on her knees straddling his hips and she hungrily lowered herself onto his erection. As she rock back and forth, Tom played with her breasts. He pulled and tweaked her nipples exhorting than to greater lengths. Soon they were over a half-inch long. She groan in satisfaction as Tom pulled on her tits and she rewarded him by increasing the pace of her fucking, driving his dick to greater depth inside her.

Cries rang out from throughout the elevator, as one participant after another reached their orgasm. Soon all movement ceased. The group's audible, once ragged breathing slowly returned to normal. After a few moments of rest, the crowd rose and dressed. The elevator moved as it too returned to its regular routine. 

This time there were no more stops. The elevator ran straight down, uninterrupted to the lobby. All parties departed. Tom stepped off believing that indeed, elevators were still a fun and magical place.

Tom tried to duplicate his experience. However, it was not to be. Tom even embarrassed himself with his many elevator trips. He never encountered any of the guests who had shared his magical ride. He did share a couple of rides with a young brunette who blushed whenever she looked his way. Could she be searching for the 13th floor? Tom didn't have the nerve to ask.



Thirteenth Seduction



"This is Eisheth." Michael didn't even try to keep the contemptuous smile off of his face. There was no way in hell Jack was going to be looking at anyone — or anything — other than Eisheth.

Even at the merely physical level, Eisheth's charms were considerable. Luxuriant pitch-black hair framed an olive-complexioned face with eyes that could seem almost cartoonishly large when she wanted to play the innocent, or could narrow into the bedroom eyes of a seductress, as they were now. Her skin was flawless, but always seemed to be flushed with inner heat. She liked to keep her mouth closed when she was alone with Michael, but even he could scarcely look at her full red lips and not imagine them wrapped around his cock, sucking him in. Her body seemed to hold no straight lines — looking at her, Michael's eye could never decide where to settle — on the athletic back and neck that always held perfect posture unless she wanted to lower a shoulder or cock her head to better draw you in — on full, deceptively youthful breasts that always seemed damp with a sheen of arousal that you knew, just knew, was caused by you — on the incurve to her waist and stomach that dared you to see if your thumbs could touch at her navel while your fingers still met at her spine — on the round perfection of her hips and ass, that seemed to be swaying slowly in orbit around the the juncture of thighs you longed to part — on the svelte, sculpted legs that you couldn't see without imagining wrapped around your face or your hips. Michael's eyes would roam constantly over her form, trying to take her all in, and always failing. He was in a perpetual state of erection from the moment she would manifest, and his cock was at its hardest when she plied her trade, as she did now.

Jack didn't have Michael's protection of her sigil, and was thus affected by her full, seductive power. Michael had been careful to never experience that power firsthand, but he liked to have Eisheth's victims describe it to him before she took them. They could not look at her without her starring in a ceaseless festival showing every one of their sexual fantasies, including some they didn't know they had. They knew, with absolute, utter certainty that she shared those fantasies, and that her fantasies contained them, and only them. 

Her victims knew this, and they were right, at least to a point.

"Jack, you aren't speaking," Michael prodded. "What do you think of her? She is a good friend of mine, and she owes me a favor or two. I wanted us to bury the hatchet, so to speak, and she is my way of making amends. I will give you two as long as you need in my guest bedroom, but you have to tell me what you think of her."

Jack said nothing, which he had seen once before. That meant... yes. Michael looked at Eisheth and could tell she had already seen it. Of course she had. She couldn't fulfill their fantasies without knowing even the ones they didn't dare speak.

Eisheth drew herself up to her full height, and somehow, when Michael wasn't looking, her clothing had changed. She had begun the evening, as she always was when they were alone, dressed for Michael, wearing Courtney's wedding dress, or the t-shirt and sweatpants Courtney had been wearing the first time they had sex, or in Courtney's fire-engine-red merry widow, which is what she had been wearing when Jack rang the doorbell. But now, Eisheth's target had changed. She was no longer trying to seduce Michael, but her sights were set on Jack, and she was wearing skin-tight pants, a corset, high heels, and long gloves, all made of black leather. A riding crop had found its way into her hand, and she snapped it against her other palm with practiced precision. She had also grown three inches beyond the heels, and her breasts had gained a cup size.

Her eyes narrowed, and her lips parted in a cruel sneer. "Don't you see, Michael? This snivelling little worm is a submissive. He won't dare speak in my presence unless I give him permission. Isn't that right, Jack?"

Jack didn't respond.

"You are too weak and cowardly to deserve the name you were born with, staring at your mistress like you are a squirrel. That is what I shall call you. Speak to me Squirrel, admitting your name and your nature."

Jack was beet-red with humiliation. His head was tilted down in deference, but he still could look nowhere else but at her. "You are correct, of course, Mistress."

Michael released his contempt. "Of course you are, Jack. All that macho, a-man-must-take-what-he-wants bullshit you fed to me when I was a trainee at Lehman and you were my mentor — it was all cover for a weak little submissive, wasn't it?"

Jack ignored Michael, but Michael didn't take offense. He knew that for Jack, right now, Eisheth was the living, breathing, walking, fucking embodiment of sex, and nothing else existed unless it would help or impede his access to her.

Eisheth held up a collar and leash. "Remove your clothes, Squirrel. The only garb you wear tonight is this." 

Jack shed his clothes too quickly, causing him to make mistakes. With each fumble of a zipper, or failure to undo a button, Eisheth's crop would snap and a new welt would appear somewhere on Jack's body. By the time Jack was naked, the only remarkable features about him were a dozen red welts and a raging erection.

Eisheth made Jack place the collar and leash on himself, and then lead him to the guest bedroom. 

Michael rummaged through Jack's clothes, finding his wallet and a smartphone. Shit. He would have to walk the smartphone around town for a couple days before throwing it in the East River. Michael couldn't have his own apartment be the last place the phone appeared on the network, but it was annoying to lay down a false trail. Michael hated inconvenience almost as much as he hated Jack. 

Jack was supposed to have been his mentor. He was supposed to have protected him when the shit went down, but no. Jack had enabled a golden parachute for himself when Lehman went under, and Michael took most of the fall. 

Michael emptied the contents of Jack's wallet. He could use the credit cards to buy some items that were pawnable for cash. Eisheth knew to get the pin number for the ATM card before she was finished. And there were several thousand dollars in cash. Excellent. That should pay the mortgage on the condo through November, although if everything went right on Halloween, he might not need it.

Cries of orgasmic pain emanated from the bedroom as Michael set his loot on the bar.

Eisheth had left the door open as she worked her charms on Jack, who was Number Eleven. She always left the door open so Michael could watch. 

And Michael always watched.

---

"You have a what?" Michael thought he must have misheard.

"A succubus." Taylor had always looked up to Michael as a hero, and he seemed to want a pat on the head. "I will summon her, but first you have to hold one of these." Taylor offered him a slip of parchment. It was a five pointed star with some weird characters written inside it. 

"What's this for?"

"Protection. For God's sake, don't let it out of your possession when she is in the room."

Michael was bemused. Taylor had been one of the first to be let go during the collapse. He was seeking Michael's help to land on his feet, not knowing that Michael had just been fired earlier that same day. Taylor knew that Michael would want something in return, so he had offered him the assistance of a netherworld creature he claimed to control. 

He had, of course, waited until Michael showed up before making such a preposterous claim, or Michael never would have bothered. 

"Eisheth, I summon thee!"

Michael raised an eyebrow at the odd phrasing, and wasn't sure what would appear. He guessed either a hooker wearing a devil-horn costume would come out of the bedroom, or nothing at all. 

He wasn't expecting Eisheth.

And she didn't come out of the bedroom. Instead, she appeared out of the corner of his eye, as if she had entered the room when he wasn't looking, even though there was no door over in that corner of the room. She was standing with her back to the window, and she made sure she was backlit. All he saw was a silhouette, but he was instantly hard. He could tell she was clothed, but it still seemed as if every outline of her nude form was visible, tracing around the most voluptuous, desirable body he could imagine.

Eisheth walked toward him, and he could see her face better now — a sly smile and dancing eyes — a flick of the tongue across her lips just like Courtney used to do. Oh my God, she was dressed in Courtney's favorite evening gown. But that was impossible. He had clearly seen the outline of two legs against the window, yet the evening gown was floor-length and the material was opaque.

She stood inches from him, just far enough away that his eyes could still focus on her face and breast — making a point of throwing her shoulders back to keep the latter in full view. He knew he wanted her, but he also recognized danger. His hand reflexively clenched the parchment Taylor had given him, and Eisheth frowned.

"Oh, pooh. Taylor, you take away all the fun." She didn't take her eyes off of Michael. She was waiting for him to drop the paper and was prepared to pounce if he did. It was at that point that Michael realized he believed every word Taylor had said about ensnaring a succubus.

"Silence, hell bitch!" Taylor ordered. 

Hell bitch? Where did he come up with this stuff? "How did you do this?" Michael asked in a whisper.

"A few guys in my frat used to dabble in black magic. For them it was a lark, seeking the power to get women out of their panties, as if alcohol and a few sweet lies weren't enough to do that for guys like us." Taylor looked to Michael as if seeking manly fellowship in the art of babe-bagging, but all he got was a weak smile. Michael doubted Taylor had ever known love in college outside his own lotioned palm.

Taylor continued. "In one of the books, they had a summoning spell, for one of her kind, but I could never get it to work. After getting laid off I had some spare time, and figured out I had the name wrong. I inscribed it in Hebrew instead of Greek, and voila, here she is."

"She is Jewish? Funny, she doesn't look —"

"No, the Hebrews named her, and her three sisters, in The Zoharistic Kabbalah. You have to use the original name and spelling for it to work. I had been trying English, Greek, and Latin. I chose hers because she seemed the nicest."

Eisheth batted her eyelashes at that.

"There are only four?" Michael asked.

He watched as Eisheth held up three fingers and shook her head sadly.

Taylor didn't like being contradicted. "Ignore her. She lies — there are four. All the books say so."

Eisheth feigned remorse, and offered up for punishment the most spankable ass the world had ever known, letting in sway in front of him, as she insolently glared at Michael over her shoulder. 

She knew exactly what buttons of his to push.

"So she is like bound to you?" Michael watched as Eisheth placed her hands over her head in response to his words, pantomimed having her wrists bound together, and feigned writhing ecstatically against a post as someone invisible performed cunnilingus upon her. Michael recognized the behavior because Eisheth was mimicking a scenario he and Courtney had played out many times, before the divorce. It had been one of her favorites.

"Sort of. She is bound to whoever holds her sigil, by order of primacy." Taylor gestured to the piece of parchment in Michael's hand.

Michael thought he knew what that meant. A plan began to form. "So why did you invite me to meet this interesting creature?"

Eisheth winked at him, and her smile turned wicked. It was as if she knew what he was thinking, and was encouraging him. When she noticed his furrowed brow, she nodded, ever so slightly.

"You were always the one with ideas. I have a succubus, but don't know how to use her." Taylor seemed frustrated.

Michael couldn't help but laugh. "You have a dick, don't you? Look at her and you should know what to do!"

Eisheth laughed with him.

Taylor's face steeled in anger, and stepped forward and backhanded Eisheth with full force. He then wheeled on Michael. "You don't understand. To fuck her is to die. She offers you every sexual fantasy, but the price is your very soul as soon as you come."

"Your very soul?" Michael mocked, "which one is that?"

Taylor pulled his own parchment out of his pocket and held it up as evidence. "If not for this —"

Michael's hand snapped out and ripped the parchment out of Taylor's hands.

"No!" Taylor shrieked, and in his terror of what she would do, he made the fatal mistake of looking at Eisheth.

The creature was suddenly wearing a red string bikini from which her tits and ass spilled freel. She wore plastic bat wings, fake red devil horns, and leather boots cut to end in the semblance of cloven hooves. She was also four inches shorter than she had been a second ago, and her breasts had grown to an absurd EE cup. To Michael, she looked like she was about to topple over — an undersexed teenaged boy's idea of his perfect woman dressing as a succubus for Halloween — which Michael knew was very close to the truth.

Eisheth held her finger up to her lips and wagged it in a mockery of remorse, then extended her arms around Taylor to pull his ear close to hers. 

"Oh, my wonderful, former master," Michael heard her whisper loud enough that he knew she wanted him to hear. "Oh how I have longed for you to free me so I can show you how much I love and want you. I plan to stay with you, and of my own free will, I will fuck you as much as you want for the rest of your life." Eisheth threw Michael a grin to tell him that she knew that wouldn't be long. Was it a kindness that she was killing him by fulfilling a fantasy he had evidently been nourishing for the weeks he had possessed her?

No, it wasn't a kindness, Michael realized. He held his own parchment closely — it was the only thing protecting him from the same delicious fate. It wasn't kindness — it was just her nature.

Michael wasn't certain why he had torn the parchment from Taylor. He just recognized something of power — something he could use to claw his way back to the top, even if the path right now was foggy — and he knew he wanted to own such power.

Taylor's eyes never left Eisheth, and Michael watched as she took her time to service Taylor, pleasure him, and finally kill him. Her face was the last thing he ever saw.

Taylor had been Number One.

--- 

"She still won't return your calls?"

Michael didn't like to tell Eisheth to be silent. She always knew exactly how much she was getting to him, but telling her to be silent still felt like an admission of weakness.

"I wanted her to be Number Twelve."

"You are counting? What's so important about Twelve?"

Shit. Eisheth could read desire from any human, but not information. For that she needed words, just like everyone else. He was telling her too much.

"Twelve is a number of power isn't it? It seemed appropriate, choosing my ex-wife for Number Twelve."

Eisheth released a throaty chuckle. "You couldn't even get her to be Number Three."

---

Number Two had been a debt collector. One of Michael's credit card companies had the enterprising idea of searching their database for Lehman Brother employees, and pushing to get their debts paid first.

The practice was illegal, since Michael hadn't had a chance to even miss a payment yet, but the collection agency they sent had been hoping he wouldn't know that. 

Michael had let Eisheth have him. 

The debt collector's fantasies had been stunted by pornography. Eisheth's pussy became hairless, her lower back sprouted a tramp stamp with the word "whore" written in bold cursive, her breasts enlarged and became pneumatic, her lips had the appearance of being stung by a bee with silicone for venom, and she only spoke short sentences like "Do it!" and "Fuck Me!" Finally he had come on her face and she took his life.

Michael heard someone behind him. 

"Michael, who is that?" It was Courtney. She was standing in the bedroom doorway, staring at Eisheth. Michael followed her gaze, and Eisheth had already shifted. The porn star look was gone, replaced by a look of athletic elegance — a high class sophisticate in the latest fashions — one who did her pilates every day. Michael instantly recognized that Eisheth had mimicked the type of woman Courtney had always wanted to be.

Michael winged it. "Courtney, we have always talked about doing a threesome, and I know things have been rough lately, so I thought—"

Courtney had been staring, seeming to be enraptured by Eisheth, but she shook it off and interrupted him. "I don't believe you. You think this is what we need right now? We need fucking jobs, Mike."

She was the only one who still called him "Mike". He glanced over at Eisheth, hoping that somehow her seductive charms would kick in, and get his wife back under control. He wasn't sure he wanted to kill her, or if he could stop Eisheth from doing so once she had started, but Michael did have a healthy insurance policy on Courtney, if it came to that.

Eisheth had just shrugged, sat back on the bed, and examined her perfectly manicured fingernails. Michael found out later that her powers didn't work as well against heterosexual women, or after she had just fed. Courtney had been doubly lucky, and had escaped. 

When Michael looked back to the doorway, Courtney was gone. He heard the door slam behind her, and hadn't heard from her again until she served him the divorce papers the next week.

Now, he wanted her to be Twelve, but she wasn't returning his calls. 

Michael glared at Eisheth and reflexively scratched the tattoo on his left forearm - a pentagram with her name inscribed in the Hebrew alphabet. He had made damned sure that he wouldn't make the same mistake Taylor had made, and he had her sigil inked into his skin. "I will just have to come up with someone else for Twelve, and I think we should do it on Halloween."

Eisheth looked alarmed, and then tried to hide it. "Why Halloween? It's four weeks away. You know I don't like waiting that long. I am such a slut, you know, and need someone between my legs all the time. I would love it to be you, but you are such a tease, and you won't touch me. Don't you find me sexy?" She stretched out on the bed, arching her back to flatter her breasts and lifting one knee into the air. 

Michael was already hard, of course, but now his cock was throbbing. He had tried masturbating or fucking other women to relieve the desire, but Eisheth would appear immediately, and offer to help. She was summoned by his words — or his proximity to orgasm. 

He had found that out with Number Three. Frustrated by the constant arousal around Eisheth, he had dismissed her and went out, picking up a woman in a bar on 49th Street. He had brought her up to his room, and had been pounding away inside her. Just when he was on the verge of climax, Eisheth was suddenly kissing the woman he had picked up. He hadn't even seen her arrive — she was just there in the bed with them, lips locked around those of his would-be conquest. He couldn't even remember the woman's name, but he remembered the way she had ravenously returned Eisheth's kisses with a passion she had denied Michael — the way her nipples had swelled at Eisheth's touch — and the look on her face as Eisheth slid her fingers down to the woman's clitoris — stroking her to climax while Michael watched in shock. 

The woman had died with Michael's cock still in her, although he had been convinced the woman had completely forgotten he was there before she was taken.

Eisheth had stuck her own fingers, still wet from the other woman's clit, between her lips and licked them clean. "I so love the taste," she said. "I don't get enough women. Oh, is that her juice on your cock? You didn't get to come did you, poor baby? Maybe we can make each other happy. I will lick her juice off your cock, and you can come in my mouth." She grinned at him. She rarely showed him her teeth, preferring to hide her sharpened cuspids, the only visual reminder of what she was. "If you put it in my mouth, I promise to take you in all the way, and I promise to swallow." She crawled toward him with her tongue extended and mouth wide open until her mouth was just inches away from his cock, then she spoke to him. "Oh yeah, Michael, I would just love to swallow you up. Every. Last. Bit."




Thirteenth Seduction



---

Eisheth had noticed his disappearance into their past, and she could read his desire. "You are thinking of Number Three. You want a woman. You want Number Twelve to be a woman."

"Janice Evans — the bitch who fired me."

"Ah, your nameless Number Three was straight, but she was fairly weak, and I hadn't fed for a month. Is that why we are waiting until Halloween? You need me hungry, to take a woman who is otherwise a slave to man meat, and turn her into a lipstick lesbian, while you watch us play?"

"Something like that." Janice was possibly a better target than even Courtney. Courtney had always professed to wanting to try a threesome, but the way she had resisted Eisheth gave Michael doubts. Janice, however, had a reputation as Lehman's go-to girl if you and your wife wanted a third. It is what had helped her rise to the position where she had been able to make sure Michael took the fall. And Michael needed someone with Janice's sexual predilections for what he had planned for Halloween.

---

Number Four and Five had been a pair of twin brothers. Eisheth had seen one of them standing on a street corner on a Friday night, trying to hail a cab. She had been complaining about the hunger for over a month, and Michael was running low on cash. 

Once he had followed them back to Michael's apartment, Eisheth had turned on her full charms. The man immediately insisted on calling his brother. The two of them had some sick joint fantasy about double-teaming the same woman, but they had never worked up the guts to actually get a girl to agree to be made the filler in a twin sandwich, until tonight. The brother in their apartment didn't even need to ask Eisheth if she would participate in their fantasy — he just knew, and invited his brother to share in his fate. 

Eisheth had lain between them, her legs scissored so that one was wrapped around one brother each, as both of her nether orifices were penetrated. Eisheth genuinely seemed to enjoy her couplings, usually not rushing things, but she took extra long with the twins, slowing them down to barely perceptible thrusts — emitting coos of pleasure while her breasts were sucked — before her voice rose to gasps of ecstasy — verbally urging them on to a climactic, frenetic fucking — screaming her lust until both brothers ended at the same time — each expelling their final breath into one of her perfect shell-like ears.

"That may have been their fantasy, but I have to admit it's always been one of mine as well," Eisheth mused as she stretched out naked on the empty bed for her familiar post-coital cock-tease. "I didn't think it was one of yours, Michael, but it looks like I was wrong. If you don't take care of that erection soon, you are going to explode. How long has it been?" Her face took on an expression of mock pity. "Four months? I can read your sexual history just by looking at you, and that's the longest you have gone without an orgasm since puberty, It must be... I don't know... Hell?"

Michael changed the subject. "I guess Hell is real, then."

"You ask me that after having your own pet demon for four months? Not much into theological introspection, are you, Michael? Are you finally wondering whether these actions of yours are going to echo in the afterlife? Of course they are."

"My actions? You are the one who kills them."

"While you profit. You haven't actually tried to get rid of me, have you Michael?"

"What's Hell like?"

"Don't worry about it. You will find out when it's time."

"Fire and brimstone? Devils with pitchforks?"

Eisheth cocked an eyebrow, and pursed her mouth in distaste. "Please."

"So what's it like?"

"I am a sister-daughter of Lilith, Mother of the Lilim . I am Senechal to Claxulub, Shaggy-Loined Goat Lord of the Stygian Host. I am honor-bound to never reveal such secrets."

"Honor bound? You just did 'reveal such secrets'."

Eisheth had been looking solemn, but suddenly broke into a grin. She had been playing with him. "Good point. It's a dreadfully boring place. I much prefer it up here. Your kind are much more satisfying than taking a Shaggy-Loined Goat Lord to bed, much less the entire Stygian Host, which he likes to make me do now and then."

Michael could almost believe he was talking to a real woman. "I bet the shaggy loins itch."

"Don't get me started. Claxulub also has two phalluses — two phalli — two cocks. You think those twins had double-penetration fantasies? And as the youngest I am the one who has to service him. I couldn't even sit down for the entire Renaissance. That was my punishment for failing to seduce a Pope. They should have sent an Incubus. I swear the pointy-hatted bastard was queer."

"Eisheth, this won't work."

She smiled until her teeth showed. "What won't work?"

"This is another attempt to seduce me, by making me think we are friends."

Her smile broadened. "But we are friends Michael. I like you so much I could just eat you all up."

He waved his hands in the gesture of banishment, dismissing her until he called her again.

---

Which he did, inadvertently, later that night. Michael had been tortured with erotic dreams for months, always starring Eisheth, or Courtney, or Courtney and Eisheth, but even his dreams couldn't be wet. At some point, just before orgasm, Eisheth would turn into his mother, or his seventy year old kindergarten teacher, and the urge to orgasm would vanish instantly. But this time, he woke up instead, and heard a low murmur from the living room.

Michael's instincts were that he was being robbed, and the adrenaline rush had him instantly awake. If they were burglars, he would merely allow Eisheth to manifest, and they would shortly be on their way to a pleasant, sticky death, but he tiptoed through the hallway just the same.

"...used the power of his dream orgasm to manifest and summon you, my mother-sister." 

What a hell bitch.

"You think he may be the one prophesized?" That wasn't Eisheth's voice. It was lower, more sultry, impossibly sexy, promising a warm, wet embrace of velvet walls around his cock, and a verbal urging to fuck his life away and love her for it. He had never lost his nighttime erection, but it pulsed in his boxers, and he desperately wanted to enter the room to see the owner of such a voice.

"I have never met one so strong, mother-sister. He has resisted me for four turns of the moon. No man inclined toward women has ever resisted me for more than three."

Michael had been moving closer to what he knew must be Lilith, but Eisheth's description of him as "strong" steeled his will, and he froze in his tracks. That's right. I am strong.

"He would need to last eight more, 'til Hollow's Eve, and he would need to know — or at least perform — the specifics of the ritual. Has he any knowledge?"

"None, mother-sister."

"Good. Distract him from it. Encourage him to destroy the notes of your former master Taylor. If you are right, we must fight his ascension with all our power. You must try to break his will before Hallow's Eve and claim him for your own."

"It shall be done, mother-sister."

Michael returned to his bed — his mind reeling, pondering the different potential meanings of "ascend," each more glorious than the last.

--- 

Michael had decided to use revenge as his motive for choosing Eisheth's next victims. He had been concerned about covering his tracks. Already the papers contained articles wondering if a serial killer was on the loose, so he tried to hold Eisheth back as long as he could. 

Number Six had been a stuffy bond trader named Patrick, from their former English office. Patrick had opposed Michael's office and its aggressive move into mortgage securitization. It was his "toldya so" email in the summer of 2008 that had started Michael's downfall. 

Upon hearing from mutual acquaintances that Patrick was in town, employed with another firm, Michael had invited him over for drinks. He assumed that Patrick would come because he would like to gloat.

Patrick, for all his pretensions of British upper society, had been a submissive, saying nothing in response to meeting Eisheth, which is how Michael had recognized the same symptoms in Jack. Michael had listened to each crack of the whip, heard each cry of pain, and watched each time Eisheth had licked Patrick's wounds clean before starting again. It had taken Patrick hours before Eisheth finally fellated him to death, sucking his existence in spasms down her throat.

"You aren't a submissive, Michael." Eisheth was lying on her stomach, kicking her feet, and propping her face on hands held high enough to allow Michael to view the swells and valley of her breasts. 

"You don't think I know that?"

"You watched me punish him, and you wanted to reverse the roles. You want to be the one with the whip, with me begging at your feet, pleading with you to be allowed, please, to please let me come." She composed her face in perfect supplication, eyes wide, biting her lip. She pulled her knees up underneath her and extended her arms until it appeared as if she were prostrating herself before him.

"You can do it, you know," she said. "You can tie me up, spank me, slap me, cuff me, beat me, and abuse me. You can make me parade naked in front of your bedroom window, wear a collar in public and call me your bitch, your whore, your slut, your pet, and your slave. I promise with my all my heart and cunt that I will love every minute of it, even if you never stick that magnificent cock inside me and fuck me."

Michael looked at her, furious over the raging hard on in his pants that was his only sexual pleasure anymore, hating her for taunting him. "Bitch," was all he said.

"Your bitch, oh sweet Master."

He dismissed her. 

With Eisheth gone, and temporarily sated, Michael was free to pore over Taylor's books and notes. He found little to help him understand the conversation he had overheard last month. There were four Succubi names that seemed to recur — Lilith, Eisheth, Agrat, and Naamah. Taylor had done extensive cross-referencing of reported encounters with succubi. Each seemed to have their own method. Lilith had a hypnotic voice and eyes that took control of a man's will. Eisheth became your sexual fantasy. Agrat took the form of a nymphet, and catered to a special clientele. Naamah was the Queen of Corruption, specializing in seducing the pure and mighty. The cross-referencing was comprehensive, and Michael noticed that there were no sightings of Eisheth during the Renaissance, and that Naamah hadn't been seen observed since mid-Nineteenth Century Virginia, where she had fucked her way through a swathe of Confederate plantation owners, working her way north, where she disappeared.

Michael remembered Eisheth's indication that there were only three succubi, and he wondered whether Naamah had been killed. The possibility of killing a succubus should be explored. He might need that sometime very soon.

---

Number Seven had been the stick-up-her-ass attorney who had lived across the hall from Michael. Back when he was married to Courtney, and still employed at Lehman, she had turned down several attempts of his to get her in bed, and hadn't appreciated being told in the elevator that she just needed a real man to fuck her sideways. 

After two weeks without a victim, Eisheth would start to manifest on her own. After four weeks he couldn't dispel her at all. She would follow him, taunting him, promising that she would behave if he just found her someone to fuck, or if he fucked her himself. She needed a cock between her legs, or a woman's lips, or someone else's fingers. She couldn't help who she was, and what she needed, pleeeeeeease...

Finally, after he woke up to the musky smell of female arousal and found her masturbating in his bed, threatening to fuck the bedpost, Michael threw on his bathrobe, and had Eisheth follow him down the hall.

As he suspected, the tight-ass attorney must have been a lesbian. Eisheth had her nuzzling between her legs within a minute of the door being opened. 

"She wasn't a lesbian, you know," Eisheth said after she had finished. 

Michael had already found all the money and jewelry in the apartment, when he hadn't been stopping to watch Eisheth and the attorney give each other face rides.

"She actually liked you at first, and thought you were hot, and that Courtney was lucky for being able to 'tap that' every night. She just thought you were a jerk for trying to cheat on your wife."

"How does that work? If she wasn't a dyke, how did you seduce her? I thought you needed a sexual fantasy."

Eisheth sighed. "That's how I prefer to work. I figure if I am going to kill someone, I might as well make their last minutes on earth as close to paradise as they are ever gonna get."

"Don't pretend to have a heart. It isn't convincing."

"What the fuck do you know? You have a choice."

Michael was confused by Eisheth's anger. If this was another ploy, it was a new one, but it didn't stop him from responding. "My choice was taken away when I was fired and found you the same day. I need to survive until I can find a way to..." ascend "get back in the game. It was this or work retail."

"So you did have a choice."

"That's no choice at all. I made my company billions. It's not my fault they lost it by holding on to the junk-rated mortgage tranches. They were supposed to sell them."

"To whom?"

"Caveat Emptor, babe."

"Isn't that what happened? The buyer was wary?"

"What the fuck is this? Why am I taking ethics lessons from a demon?"

"I just think we should under—"

Michael dismissed her. If he was lucky, he had two more weeks before her libido would allow her to self-manifest. He wanted to hit the books.

---

Number Eight was the independent accountant who exposed "discrepancies" in Lehman's balance sheets. Michael had been a rock star. He had made his first million within his first year, and was worth another twenty by 2007. He was an innovator, with a profile in the Journal. The accountant was a nobody, with some petty complaint that Lehman was hiding losses in their books. The ensuing report had resulted in the vultures circling. 

Michael brought Eisheth to his Brooklyn brownstone. Turned out the repressed little douchebag had never been able to convince a girlfriend to do anal. Eisheth obliged him, and he was smiling as he shot his life into her ass.

Number Nine was Courtney's divorce lawyer. The prick had humiliated him on the stand as they went over their marital assets, which had become non-existent. Most of Michael's assets had been in Lehman shares — bonuses doled out for his financial innovations, but that he couldn't sell for two years. By that time, the company had collapsed, and his net worth was a few thousand dollars in the bank, a closet full of Armani, and the deed to an Upper East Side condo. Courtney didn't want half the condo. Why should she? It was worth less than the mortgage due to the collapse. Michael had offered her half, trying to appear generous, but her lawyer had spotted the trap, and walked through all their finances, pointing out the poetic justice of a Lehman bond trader — especially one at the heart of the financial collapse — living with an underwater mortgage. He was a rare specimen, the attorney had argued — he belonged in the circus. Even the judge had laughed.

The attorney was a closeted cross dresser. Eisheth didn't judge. She just produced a ballroom gown out of thin air for him to wear, and the attorney fucked her while hiking the skirt up to his waist.

Michael preempted Eisheth's seduction attempts of him by dismissing her instantly after each of these death, but he drew no further to discover what it meant to "ascend" — until after Number Ten.

---

Number Ten was a freelance journalist, and a former bond trader himself, who had done a post-mortem on the Lehman collapse where Michael had featured prominently. Michael invited him up for drinks, promising the inside story that Michael had denied him at the time of his article, but which he could use for his forthcoming book. Michael introduced him to Eisheth and the pansy was soon slowly loving her — going down on her on a bed that was suddenly covered with satin sheets and rose petals. Eisheth stretched the seduction out all night, and finally took the journalist as both he and the morning came at the same time. Michael must have imagined it, but he could have sworn Eisheth had a tear in her eye, and she actually yelled at him again. "The lady lawyer was bad enough, but this guy? One could read through the entire Infernal Almagest and never find a piece of work like you." Her hand jumped to her mouth as if she had just said something she shouldn't. but quickly recovered, touching some of the rose petals left on the bed, and looking sullen. 

Michael dismissed her. He had caught her mistake, and planned to exploit it. The text itself was in Taylor's collection, but it wasn't in a language he spoke, so he had ignored it. He had a Google search running within seconds.

The Infernal Almagest was originally a Ninth Century Latin Who's Who of Hell, but the only existing copies were in Arabic. Michael found the Arabic original, ran the text through a translation program, and combed through it for clues.

He did find out that there supposedly was a Shaggy-Loined Goat Lord of the Stygian Host, and he found a reference to Eisheth as "now the youngest of her kind", but buried in a discussion of the succubi was a footnote, containing a prophecy, author unknown. The translation program rendered the text choppy, but there was definitely a reference to "ascend."

Even making allowances for translating a Twelfth Century Arabic version of a Ninth Century Latin text into Twenty-First Century English, the passage was obscure.

Will to power Mark of lilim Moons of twelve Eve of Saints Sharing of Twelfth Seed of man Dead of Lilim Ascent to man  

As prose, it was shit. Either the writer needed to read more Nostradamus to get an ear for prophecy, or it was butchered by way of two translations. For all that, the meaning seemed to clarify with each reading.

Michael felt a chill as he grew convinced that certain the lines referred to him. Didn't he bear the "mark of lilim" on his forearm as a ward against Eisheth's power? He remembered that he had received that tattoo prior to a party the previous Halloween, as some asshole dressed as a pimp kept touching his arm, and it hurt like fuck. Moons of Twelve indeed.

He ran the text through a few other translation programs, but didn't find anything to improve the meanings, and it made a sick sort of sense. If he was reading this correctly, he needed to participate in Eisheth's next seduction on Halloween night, and if he climaxed, Eisheth would die, he would be free of her torment, and he would ascend into some sort of power.

It all seemed very simple, except that participating in a sexual act in tandem with Eisheth would require getting uncomfortably close to her while she was in the heat of her power - or height of her power, rather. With Eisheth it's the same difference. But if he succeeded, he would be rid of her and the risk would be gone forever. He had evidently set some sort of record in surviving temptation by a bound succubus for more than a few months, and the price was unbearable. If he didn't fuck something soon he would decide that death was preferable to lifelong blue balls.

That must have been what happened to the missing fourth succubus — Naamah. No wonder Eisheth was worried and had been working with Lilith to block his ascendance. He was in a prophecy, and he would come into power. Michael didn't understand much about demons and the black arts, but if there was one thing he understood, it was power.




Thirteenth Seduction



---

"The devil horns were bad enough, but did I have to wear the tail?" Eisheth picked up the fake red tail with the pointed tip, and held it like it was a rotting fish.

"What's wrong with the tail?" He watched her ass move down the sidewalk, toward Janice's Upper East Side townhouse. Her heels ticked and tocked with each step, and her round hips swayed back in forth in rhythm like a sexy metronome.

"It's like making a witch carry a broomstick, or forcing a vampire to wear a cape. It conforms to the most trite stereotypes about us. I find it degrading."

"Yeah, but degrading you gets me all hot." Michael was in the first good mood he had felt for almost a year, and flirting with Eisheth on her last night on either Hell or Earth seemed to be the least he could do.

"Does it now?" She gave him a sly grin, and twirled the tail as she walked. "I like the rest of the costume." 

He hadn't put her in the bikini-clad pornographic-fantasy-of-a-succubus that had been Taylor's last image on Earth — that costume would have gotten them kicked out of Janice's party. No, this was a more uptown succubus — one who knew her Gucci from her Prada. Perfectly fitted red-leather pants, a red corset, and a short black leather jacket that just hinted at wings. The red ankle-boots really were Gucci — or at least Michael had shown her the picture before Eisheth had conjured them out of thin air.

Michael himself was dressed as the Devil himself, complete with a pitchfork, a red cape, and a set of horns and a tail that matched those worn by Eisheth.

Of course, they had no invitation, so Eisheth simply worked her charms on the doorman, and they were quickly inside.

Michael had no problem scanning the faces in the living room, as every one of them, male and female alike, had turned toward Eisheth. He felt like the Invisible Man, as no one looked at him, and he realized he had been wrong about her getting them kicked out of the party if she had dressed as Taylor's version of a succubus. Eisheth could have walked in stark naked, and lacking Michael's sigil, no one would have had the willpower to deny her anything.

He could see the exposed lust on the faces of New York's financial elite. A model who Michael recognized from the pages of Victoria's Secret clutched her boyfriend, a Vice President from Morgan Stanley, tighter and pressed her pelvis against his hip, glancing at him as if to say, "You wanted to bring another woman into bed? Her. It's her or no one." 

A fifty year old female investment banker, who also invested in cosmetic surgery, had her hand to the best enhanced bosom that money could buy. She was idly caressing her own skin, as if reconsidering her decision that her college lesbian days were just an experiment.

A recent Forbes cover boy - a hot shot hedge fund manager, had a reputation as a womanizer, and was staring at Eisheth as if he would have traded every one of his conquests for just one second between Eisheth's legs.

The deputy mayor, four CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, dozens of trophy wives, and a US Senator all looked at Eisheth with a hunger that said they would throw away every dollar they owned — every modicum of power they possessed — their very lives themselves — just to have her.

Eisheth soaked it all up, preening, winking, throwing a come hither here, and bedroom eyes there. She eyed the room like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet after a monthlong starvation diet, which Michael realized was exactly the truth. 

He felt a sense of panic rising. If he didn't get this under control soon, there would be a mass-murder-slash-gang-bang among the rich and powerful that couldn't help but attract an unsurvivable amount of attention — and even more importantly — wreck his plans for the night.

He turned on Eisheth. "You said you would keep it under control."

"This is keeping it under control, honey. It's just been sooo long, and I am sooo horny. Do you want to see me really show what I can do?" Her grin broadened, showing the sharp teeth that so unsettled him, and her hands rose above her head as her hips began to sway. 

Michael heard a collective intake of breath around the room, and headed off mass destruction by throwing his cape over her head.

The spell was broken. The partiers blinked, and continued with their conversations as if no interruption had occurred. Michael did notice large bulges in the pants of the men, and flushed faces and erect nipples poking through thin dress fabric of many of the women. He knew there would be some interesting sexual experimentation and fantasies roleplayed at home tonight for many of the people here, even if they didn't know why.

"Oh, poo," he heard Eisheth say from under his cape.

With Eisheth's distraction gone, Michael himself was getting some attention now. Janice had landed on her feet after the Lehman collapse. She had many connections in the world of finance, and had escaped from the mess to a Vice Presidential position at Goldman Sachs. Michael recognized some of her Goldman cronies around the room, and he could tell by their furrowed brows and frowns that they recognized him.

"Let's move. We need to find Janice."

"Okay. I will lead the way." Eisheth, still blinded by the cape, seemed to purposefully head in the direction of what Michael knew must be a priceless vase.

Michael grabbed her by the arm, and steered her up the stairs. Once he had located a bedroom, he merely waited outside. He knew her cronies would report his presence to Janice, and she would be along soon.

More than any other person, Michael blamed Janice for his fall. The two of them had been hired at around the same time, and went through the trainee program together. 

Janice embodied a look that Michael liked to call "power slut". She radiated sex appeal in business attire, and knew how to use it. Michael never resented that. It was only natural to try to advance with the set of talents you had, and Janice had brains to match her looks. What he resented was her refusal to sleep with him. 

"Michael, you are married," she had said, with a fake smile. 

"So was Perkins."

"Perkins's wife asked me to bed at the same time Perkins did. I don't see Courtney anywhere in the room. Should we call her? If she is game, so am I." Janice reached for the phone. Courtney was a member of Janice's sales team, and Janice knew her office number by heart.

Michael had stopped her. 

Both Michael and Janice had been rising stars. Michael had been the financial innovator, slicing and dicing the aggregated mortgages of America, repackaging them into new types of securities, pricing them, and setting them loose upon the world. Janice had been the top seller in the company, rising quickly to management. She had started feeling the heat from Lehman clients as the rumors of a collapse spread.

When the shit hit the fan, both had been in the conference room. 

"If sales had just pushed these things better, we wouldn't have this problem," Michael had said.

Janice went ballistic. "Don't you dare blame my team! We sold these pieces of shit with you telling us they were diamonds. Now even the triple As are cratering and we are stuck with the junk!"

"This isn't the time for blame..." Jack had began, but he looked away from Michael when he said it, as did everyone else in the room, and he knew he was dead. 

They had decided to make him the fall guy, protecting their own consciences. They had been perfectly happy to celebrate him and praise him when he was making them money hand over fist. They had been only too thrilled to look the other way when he bullied the finance department into pushing the losses forward off the books for a full year. Janice had turned everyone against him. It had been her.

He felt the anger of the righteous curdling his stomach as he saw her at the top of the stairs, dressed as a ballerina. She gave Eisheth the once over, seeing only a pair of great legs in expensive shoes concealed by a cape. "Michael, they told me you were here. I didn't invite you, and I would prefer not to make a scene, but I will if you force the issue. Take your skank with the legs and get out of here, and I won't call the police."

"Skank? Oh, I like her," said Eisheth, lowering the cape from her head, showing her sharp-toothed grin. "I like her a lot."

At the sight of Eisheth, Janice was transfixed, her mouth opened just wide enough to lick her lips. "Oh", was all she could say.

Eisheth sidled up next to her and placed her arms around Janice's delicate neck. "Sweetie, you will be saying that a lot louder and more often before the night is through."

Mike pushed open the door to the bedroom. "Janice, do you remember how you always wanted a threesome with me and Courtney? I think you will agree that Eisheth is an upgrade, so now you get a chance to have that fantasy come to life."

Janice could only nod dumbly, lost to herself as her eyes roamed over Eisheth's lips, breasts, and hips. 

Eisheth, however, snapped her head in his direction, a look of alarm on her face. "What do you mean threesome? You are joining in?"

"Haven't you always wanted me to?"

Eisheth's smile looked fake. "Of course! You have the most tragic case of sexual frustration in history, and nothing would please me more to watch you get your release, except for having you inside me when you do it." Now her smile looked real. "But why did you change your mind tonight? I don't think this one is quite right for you. Isn't Courtney living in the Midwest somewhere? We can drive out there and find her."

"No, I think Janice is perfect for this. Tonight is perfect." He smiled back at her. If he himself had sharpened cuspids, they would be showing.

Eisheth's face fell. "You know," she whispered.

"Yes, I know."

"Don't do this," Eisheth pleaded, desperate now. "I was joking about your being damned. You can make me laugh, and I have seen you be kind. There is hope for you, Michael. I know desire. This isn't what you want."

"You do know desire, but you also know lies. You know that if I succeed, you die."

Eisheth's eyes opened slightly in surprise. She hung her head, and when she spoke, it was a whisper. "You know this, and still want to complete the ritual?"

"You have been trying to kill me for a year. Why shouldn't I return the favor?"

"Because you have a choice." Eisheth raised her eyes to his, and he saw steel and fire within them. "Alright Michael, let's find out how strong you are. You know that by participating, the power of my sigil on your arm is weakened, and you will be right next to me. The more aroused I get, the more powerful I am." Her smile was a challenge. "I may be strong enough to take you."

"I have always been stronger than you thought. Why are you telling me this?"

"I just thought you should have a choice." Eisheth turned back to Janice and smiled. "Come along sweetie." She then lead her prey into the bedroom.

Michael followed and locked the door. When he turned, Eisheth was removing Janice's clothes, while Janice trembled and gasped at every touch. 

Eisheth saw him watching. "You see the effect I have on her?" She removed Janice's leotard. Janice was small-breasted and hadn't needed to wear a bra — Eisheth stepped behind her, and reached around to cup both breasts, rolling each nipple between her thumbs and forefingers. Janice responded by leaning into Eisheth's touch and turning her neck to seek a kiss, which Eisheth enthusiastically provided, stopping only to taunt Michael. "Do you really think you can resist?" One of Eisheth's hands slid down Janice's stomach, her fingers seeking out the cleft of Janice's legs. "Watch, I can make her come just by touching."

"Stop!" Michael commanded.

Eisheth glared at him but obeyed. He could never understand the vagaries of her obedience, and Eisheth had refused to explain. The only insight Taylor's books had provided was a cryptic sentence that the rules binding succubi were as capricious as their whims.

Janice mewled in frustration as Eisheth stepped away. Janice reached for her, but Eisheth merely held her hand.

"So, Michael, how do you want to do this? I know! How about she rides your cock while I sit on your face! I have wanted to feel your tongue licking me for too long, and if this is to be my last night in existence, don't you owe me my one last fantasy? You won't believe what I taste like. It doesn't taste like anything to me when I lick my own juices off a man's cock, but others say it tastes like their favorite flavor in the world - fresh-squeezed orange juice, peppermint, pinot noir. One French aristocrat said I tasted like snails in garlic sauce. I tried to take it as a compliment."

Michael sensed a trap. Eisheth was always trying to get him to touch her — to taste her, with the promise that it didn't need to lead to climax unless he wanted it to. He was convinced that this was why he had survived her advances for a year while all others who had tried to walk this path had succumbed. To touch her was to play her game — to walk her path, and it lead to inexorable destruction. He would walk his own, instead.

"Nice try, but I don't think so."

"Michael, I have to be involved sexually, or it doesn't count."

Janice was in heat. Her hands and mouth explored Eisheth's body. Janice's mouth nibbled Eisheth's clavicle as if it were an ear of corn. Eiseth seemed to enjoy the attention and tilted her head to grant better access.

"Involved how?" Michael asked.

"One of my orifices or hands has to be in contact with her mouth or pussy when she comes." Eisheth chose to emphasize the point by taking Janice's face in her hands and giving her lips a hungry kiss.

Michael had grown used to constant erections around Eisheth, but now he felt himself throbbing as he watched Janice pinch Eisheth's nipple between her fingers, squeezing so hard that Janice's fingertips turned white and the nipple turned red. Eisheth responded with a gasp and goosebumps. Stay focused. "So, when you suggested riding my face while I fucked her until I came? Who would have been taken, me or her?"

Eisheth took her face away from Janice's, and brought her thumb to her mouth to chew on it, while her lips widened in a guilty smile. "Oops." 

Janice was now biting gently on Eisheth's nipple, pulling it into her mouth.

I need to finish this. "Have her lie on her back. You can sit on her face while I fuck her."

Janice hadn't seemed to be listening, but now her mouth opened in a sigh at the prospect of pleasing Eisheth. Janice's hand slid across the curve of Eisheth's hip to touch the succubus's pussy.

"Do it. Now," Michael insisted.

Eisheth rolled her eyes and looked down at Janice. "Look at him, so eager to stick his cock in you. You would think he hasn't been able to come for a year, or something." 

Janice actually laughed as Eisheth laid her on the bed.

Michael snarled as he removed his clothes. He knew he needed to move fast or Eisheth would find a way to evade his orders and take Janice without him. They were already kissing again, with Janice's fingers fluttering rapidly between Eisheth's legs, causing the succubus to writhe underneath her.

Despite her obvious euphoria, Eisheth found the time to taunt him. "Ooh, Michael is naked. Michael never lets me see him naked. I think he knows what it might inspire me to greater power — he knows that one look at that raging cock of his, and my pussy turns to pudding for him. Don't you think so, Janice? Have you seen Michael's cock? How long do you think it is? Seven inches?"

Janice didn't even look up. "Seven and a half. Courtney told me."

"Why would Courtney leave a specimen like that? Maybe he doesn't know how to use it. "

Michael refused to rise to the bait. He had never had a shortage of women requesting a repeat performance, and he was above such petty taunts. "Janice, spread your legs."

Janice ignored him. 

Eisheth patted her on the cheek. "Janice, sweetie, you need to spread your legs so he can try to convince himself that Courtney didn't leave him because he is a lousy fuck."

He knew what she was trying to do — suck his confidence to disable his performance. Did she really not see how useless that was? All Michael had to do was look at Eisheth and he was on the cusp of orgasm. Still, she was angering him. "This is intolerable. No more belittlements. No more trying to interfere with me. You are bound to me until your imminent death. I watch you. You always try to make other's go out experiencing heaven in their final moments. Is this really what you want for yourself?"

Eisheth half-smiled. "Of course, Michael, I obey all your commands. All you needed to do was ask."

What the fuck? He had been ranting, expecting her to ignore him. Had he ever ordered her to stop before? He remembered complaining, asking, hinting, and insulting her back, but had he ever ordered her? Fuck. "You mean that if I had wanted to come any time in the last year, all I had to do was tell you to stop interfering?"

Her smile was broad now. "Of course, Michael. How would i know your wishes otherwise? You seemed to enjoy watching me without doing anything about it."

Blind rage filled his senses and his fingernails dug deep into the flesh of his clenched hands. He had stopped hitting up the bars, or using the booty call list of all the girls who had given their numbers while he was married to Courtney. He had stopped masturbating, as he could get no release without Eisheth appearing to interfere with him — all while being sexually taunted by a woman who would normally have driven him to wet dreams every night with her impossible tits, perfect waist, fuckable ass, and an instinct to get off on every degradation he could imagine for her - and Michael could imagine many. And all he needed to do was ask?

She could read his expression and was silently laughing at him, but she had underestimated him again. He walked toward the bed, and forced Janice's legs apart on his own, noting with a complete lack of surprise that her pussy lips were already sopping and swollen from mere proximity to Eisheth. 

Eisheth saw his intent, and sat up. She could have chosen to turn her back to Michael, but of course she did not. She spread her legs wide and lowered her pelvis slowly on to Janice's waiting mouth — but she did so facing him. She would look into his eyes as they determined which one of them would walk away alive.

Michael would have it no other way.

He plunged his cock into Janice's cunt, and luxuriated in the sensation of fecund heat and wet walls parting and closing around him. It had been too long - too long. He realized his eyes had closed and he opened them, and found himself staring into Eisheth's.

Her eyes were not half-closed in mockery, nor the wide open eyes of the doe-eyed innocent she would counterfeit as an infernal joke — but the dilated, searching eyes of a woman in abject lust, yearning for him, wishing for the touch of his lips, hands, hips, and cock more than anything in creation. 

Eisheth wriggled and squirmed on top of Janice's face, responding to the ministrations of an unseen tongue, but her eyes — her eyes were all for him, wanting him, demanding him. 

Michael had fought her advances for a year, seeing them as a mere ruse to claim him, but perhaps he had underestimated her appreciation of him. He had always been a man of strong will, and otherwise confidant women had frequently sought his bed searching someone strong enough to tame them, pin their wrists over their head with his firm grip, and bend them backwards, or forwards or sideways to his will. He saw it now. Eisheth was no different, just another untamed bitch who thought the fire in her head was hotter than the fire he would raise between her legs. This was what she had really wanted with all her teasing and mockery, to be taken by him — enslaved to his will. 




Thirteenth Seduction



Her eyes shifted down from his, staring at his mouth. Her own lips parted and he saw a flicker of a tongue as she leaned toward him so very slightly. Her hands began to slide from where they had embraced Janice's cheeks, feeling the wetness glistening on the skin of her thighs, tracing the lines of her swaying pelvis as she face-fucked poor, stupid, Janice, until her hands reached her own breasts. Eisheth's sharp, red fingernails drew circles around her own engorged nipples that were erect to the brink of bursting with the lust she was feeling for him.

He knew that she wanted her nipples touched, and tasted, but above all, twisted. She wanted his hands or teeth to claim the apex of her breast and bring the crisp, controlled pain and pleasure that only he could provide. Her hands were cupping her own impossibly firm breasts with skin that seemed the texture of satin, bringing them closer to him, as an offering. All he needed to do was claim what was already his. When he did, he would also know the ultimate prize — between her legs.

Janice bucked her hips against his cock as an afterthought to the pleasures she was getting tasting Eisheth. Janice seemed to be trying to disappear up Eisheth's cunt. Her lips drank and her tongue lapped what could only be a perfect nectar of liquid sex. 

Suddenly, as if she read his mind, one of Eisheth's hands had returned between her legs, stealing some of her own juices from Janice's hungry mouth. Janice mewed in envy and made a biting motion to steal the stolen treasure, but Eisheth moved too quickly, and her hand was out of reach, with an index finger held in front of Michael's face, offering heaven in a single drop.

Michael could smell Courtney's favorite perfume, as well as cloves, cayenne, cinnamon, and sex, and his mouth watered at the approach of her finger. He glanced at Eisheth, and saw her head was hung in gesture of submission, peeking up at him through raven hair hung over her sweat-sheened face. She was making the ultimate submission, offering herself to him, and denying such a gift would be denying himself.

He opened his mouth, and with aching slowness she placed her finger gently on his tongue. He felt the electric shock of Eisheth's touch, and his senses exploded.

Every sight, sound, scent, and sensation in the room was enhanced a hundredfold. The rhythmic rise and fall of Eisheth's breasts, and pulsing of her hips, were hypnotic in their erotic beauty. The smell of her musk and sweat inflamed his desire, demanding that he inhale nothing but her for whatever meager moments remained in his life. He needed to taste every inch of her skin, savoring that of her lips, tongue, nipples, and pussy. He could feel nothing but his cock fucking this nobody beneath him who almost had him at the edge of climax, but who he realized was nothing but a cheap surrogate for the molten heat that lay in the folds of Eisheth's cunt. All he needed to do was to abort his impending orgasm by withdrawing, take Eisheth in his arms, plunge himself between her legs and fuck her until he and oblivion both came. Nothing in his life had ever been so important as ending it inside Eisheth.

Michael braced himself to withdraw, but found himself held in place by the vice-like grip of Janice's thighs. Janice was on the cusp of her own climax, and as Eisheth had promised, was moaning a torrent of "oh"s . Her mouth was all for Eisheth, but some base instinct knew that Michael's withdrawal would deny her pleasure and she wanted him to stay between her legs.

No! He wanted Eisheth, not this useless piece of flesh holding his cock in a wet prison. Janice's cunt spasmed and clenched around him with her own nascent orgasm, signalling the beginning of the end of her own life. Michael fought, but it was too late. A year of abstinence from even himself could not be denied, and he screamed his frustration as he exploded within a woman who was stealing passion meant solely for the succubus spread wide before him.

Eisheth snapped her own head back in pleasure as Janice's orgasm brought her own. She screamed her killsong, and when her head returned forward, fire blazed in her eyes, and her too-sharp cuspids were bared by the smile on her face. 

Michael felt the constraining pressure of Janice's legs and cunt relax around him, as her body, the same as all the other victims, lost its form, dissolving into a mist that disappeared between Eisheth's legs — a twelfth soul sacrificed by Michael to feed Eisheth's insatiable lust.

Eisheth screamed once more as she drank in her prey, then sat back staring at Michael with a wide smile, as if waiting for something.

Confusion overwhelmed him. The succubus's spell broke immediately with the death of Janice, and with it came the shock and panic of how close he had came to succumbing. Janice had actually saved him. He had won. Eisheth would die and the power would be his. 

But Eisheth did not die, and seemed to have no intent to do so.

"What..." he began to say, but could not complete the question as a sharp pain lanced through his hips, as if his bones were being pulled asunder. He cried out in agony.

Eisheth was beatific. "Oh, Michael, we have waited for you."

We? He wasn't imagining it. His bones were being pulled apart. He could see his pelvic bones spreading and widening under the skin.

"All of us have waited for you. My sisters are coming now. They are on their way, summoned by your consecration of the twelfth victim."

Consecration? They had set him up. Of course they had. This is what they did — seduction. They had planned his overhearing of their conversation. Eisheth had lead him to the book that would tell him what to do, and she had lead him into the trap by insisting she didn't want to go there. He should have been smarter than this. He should have seen it coming.

Michael suddenly convulsed in renewed agony. It felt like someone had hit him between the legs with an axe, splitting him in two and then setting his cock on fire. Now his screams were loud enough to rip open the heavens — if the heavens had cared to listen.

"I had to try to stop you — not because I wanted to — but because it was in my nature to try to take you. I could no nothing else, even though I wanted to fail."

Now the pain was spreading to his chest, but this was a dull ache, not the fire that had blazed — and was now dying — in his groin. His head itched, and Oh fuck, I seem to be shrinking.

"You were so strong. I had never met anyone who was able to resist me like you in all of my current existence."

He couldn't see. The pain was fading now, with his loins now pulsing with a steady throb that seemed a different type of torture altogether. He felt his body continuing to change beneath him. He extended his hands down to survey the damage, and felt smooth, supple, hairless skin, an impossibly narrow waist, and what was that in the way of his hand? Breasts. Oh my God, I have breasts. Instinctively, his other hand shot between his legs, feeling no pubic hair save for a small tidy triangle pointing down to a small nub where his cock used to be, with a sopping wet gash opening beneath it.

"I had faith in you, and now we are complete again."

Michael still couldn't see. Why couldn't she see? She realized that it wasn't blindness — just luxuriant black hair that was covering her eyes. She swept it away with the delicate fingers of a perfectly manicured hand.

She sat up in bed, looking down at her new body — six inches shorter, sixty pounds lighter, with svelte curves, perfect breasts, and a round ass that she knew would be rolling sex in a pair of stiletto heels. A tickling in her mouth attracted notice, and she probed it with a finger to feel cuspids that felt just a little too sharp. The dull ache between her legs was growing, however, distracting her from her surroundings. She needed something there, and knew her fingers, or Eisheth's fingers, might help for a short time, but were not what she needed. She needed something larger, stronger, harder, thrusting faster. Oh God, what had they done. What had happened. She could feel her mind changing, and realized she didn't even think of herself as male any more.

"Your sisters have come to welcome you."

She looked up, and somehow two others had entered the room. One was taller, with a cruel regal smile. Lilith. The other had the lithe, coltish, body of a youth, but had eyes older than the Pyramids. Agrat. But this wasn't right. She needed to protest. "I don't have sisters." Her voice was unfamiliar - soft, yet dangerous, like silk brushing over the blade of a knife. "My name is—"

"Naamah," Lilith interrupted. "Your name is Naamah."

The name opened up a chasm in her mind, and memories flooded in. Thousands of copulations, penetrations, and ejaculations. She had specialized in bringing down the pure — popes and pastors, kings and queens, knights and nuns. She had violated, and been violated, in every orifice, by every combination of sexual partner imaginable, and she had loved every second of it, hating instead the long torture when all she could feel between her legs was an aching, abyssal void, such as the one now gnawing at her womb. 

"We missed you so much," Eisheth said. "Your host was clever enough to find the prophecy, but he corrupted it through translation and he thought the prophecy meant a succubus would die — not that a dead succubus would live."

Naamah's last memory, aside from these false ones as a male human that were thankfully fading, was of an attempt to seduce an American President during wartime. She had thought it would be easy, as the man was unwanted by most women, save for a wife who was borderline insane. The man had been impossibly strong, however, and her punishment at the hands of the Goat Lord had been fatal, until tonight, when her sisters had found a way to raise her again, as they always did when one of them failed and was punished for it.

Lilith stood impatiently by the door. "We only have two hours before the summoning wears off, and we must return. There are scores of the social elite downstairs, just waiting for us, and our new sister is ravenous."

She was right. Hunger. That was the word for what she felt between her legs. She could devour dozens of men and women downstairs, fucking them to extinction. She was the Queen of Corruption returned, and this would be her coronation dinner.

"Eisheth missed you most of all." That was Agrat. "Now she is no longer the youngest of the lilim, and the duty to service our Shaggy-Loined Lord and Master and his Stygian Host no longer falls to her."

Naamah was horrified — then shamed — then pleased — that the thought of servicing her lord and his servants no longer seemed as odious as it once would have been.

The small dying part of her that had been Michael had been the one horrified, not her, but he protested her acceptance of her fate, and opened Naamah's mouth for one last time. "Oh God, I am one of you." 

Naamah closed it, and the human would never speak again.

"Oh Darling." Eisheth took Naamah in her arms, and Naamah felt fiery kisses on her lips, and a delicate hand on her breast. "You were always one of us."

Her sisters joined the embrace, and she felt hands and mouths kissing, caressing and prodding every sensitive curve, protuberance, and orifice, elevating her lust in preparation for the incipient feast of carnality downstairs.

"You were always one of us."

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The End

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Author's Note: Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Please vote and provide comments below.