Making Fun of MC: The Stories

[Bobwhite]

Here is where the stories shall go.  Nab volunteered to post them here, so PM them to him.

And have fun!

[flibinite]

I'm not sending this to Nab, Joe, as I'm writing this for other reasons than your contest... kinda.  There was some stuff going down in the 'Christmas Gift' thread, that made me need to write something tonight.  But hey, as I started thinking about it in my head, I thought it would be good here, too, maybe, so pushed it a hair more in the comedic direction... I hope.  My goal is to write something else for your contest though, as you (and others) know.

This is about a half-edit, so forgive the goofs... ok?

Let's just call this my "gift" to you, and to all those on the 'Christmas Gift' thread.   

********

A Christmas With Lesbian Intent  -  (a radio play by, well... me!)

(Opens with the sound of an AM radio dial being turned...)

...(static)..."There's good news, tonight!"...(static)... "Jack Frost nippin' at your"... (static)... "Do the Buffalo Bills really have a quarterback solution?"...(static)... "come down to Flashman's Buick Toyota for a..."...(static)..."there were actual punches thrown on the Senate floor..."...(static)... "Tonight's play, 'A Christmas With..." umm... "Lesbian Intent', brought to you by our good friends at the Hotel California, home of the six-horsepower vibromatic bed, whose motto is... 'Just get it in her, and we'll do the rest!'"

(Sound of a clock alarm going off.  Then some yawning and rustling...)

Alei (aloud):  "Lord... I have to get my lazy ass out of bed.  It's Christmas, and I have to finish setting things up."  (sounds of stretching, climbing out of bed)  "Maybe I'll get lucky, and Santa will have left something decent under the tree this year... and just for me!"

(Sound of someone scratching various unnamed body parts, sighing and walking.  The sound of a door opening, and more footsteps)...

Alei:  "What the hell?!  Who are you?"

(Sounds of someone standing, the shuffle of presents)

Nymph:  "I'm the Christmas Nymph.  And, aww, shoot, Alei... I was hoping to be gone before you got up.  Don't you ever sleep in?"

Alei:  "Almost never.  Would it be out of line to ask what the f' you're doing here?"

Nymph:  "I... well... I brought you a Christmas present."

Alei:  "You did?" (sounds of some movement, and more of that shuffling thing...)  "You brought me a sleeping bag?  Excuse me... an occupied sleeping bag?"

Nymph:  "Well... sure!  I thought it might be something you'd enjoy, something that you could make use of for your own little bit of fun and games." (sounds of more shuffling, some moans and bodies struggling)...

Alei:  "There are two women inside the sleeping bag you have apparently given me, Nymph.  I can see they both are wearing gags.  I can only imagine what's going on inside the bag." (more muffled groans and movement noises)... "Would you mind explaining this, um... Christmas present?"

Nymph (giggling):  "Well... if you must know, it's Jo and Michelle."

Alei (astonished):  "Jo and Michelle!  In a sleeping bag?  Here under my Christmas tree?"

Nymph (excitedly):  "Uh-huh!"

Alei (her own excitement slowly showing up in her voice):  "Let me guess.  They tied up inside there, right?"

Nymph:  "Uh-huh!"

Alei:  "And can I safely assume that they're naked?"

Nymph:  "Uh-huh!"

Alei:  "And, knowing your somewhat wonderful and deviant mindset, can I assume that they have a 'friend' in there with them?"

Nymph (more excitedly):  "Uh-huh!"

Alei:  "Tell me what it is, Nymph."

Nymph (her voice sounding... triumphant):  "It's an 18" vibrating double dong, Alei!"

Alei (sighing, but with an edge of... something to her voice):  "And am I to consider that said 18" vibrating double dong is fully inserted in both?"

Nymph:  "You would be remiss not to consider it, Alei."

Alei:  "I see...."

Nymph (sounding smirky):  "Not with the bag still closed and locked, you don't."

(Sounds of moaning and writhing... almost as if two women were very close to major orgasms in a very confined space)...

Alei: (sighs) "Can you tell me how you managed all of this, Nymph?"

Nymph:  "I could, but I'd rather sing it."

Alei:  "Sing it?!"

Nymph:  "Sure.  I've been composing my explanation for hours, now.  Do you know 'Christmas Wrapping' by The Waitresses?"

Alei (sounding slightly at a loss):  "I... I think so..."

Nymph:  "Well... no problem, sweetness.  Just click on this link, then find the "Preview All" button on the page, and click it for a 30-second clip of how it goes.  Remember, it's called 'Christmas Wrapping'...

(Everyone listens to the 30-second clip...)

Alei:  "Oh yes, I remember it now, Nymph.  But how are you going to play and sing that?"

Nymph (her voice gloating):  "Well, I brought a band."

Alei:  "A band?!"  (hearing noises... footsteps and the sound of light banging and, um... instruments being set up...)

Nymph:  "Yes.  I've got Doc there on the drums, Joe on bass, Sara on guitar, someone that looks like Harry Truman on the piano, and blankpage and the Hypnotic Horns."

Alei:  "blankpage and The Hypnotic Horns!?"

Nymph (the sound of her shrugging her shoulders(?)):  "Sure... why not?  As BP doesn't want to suck, I figured maybe he'd want to, er... blow.  (The sounds of movement, almost as if someone were ungagging someone...sigh)  "And I'm ungagging Michelle and Jo so that they can help me sing."

Alei:  "Do they know the lyrics you plan to use?"

Nymph (that shrugging sound, again):  "We'll find out, won't we?"

{STOP... if you haven't listened to the song excerpt yet, please click here, then the "Preview All" but, and listen to it... I'm kinda begging...}

Alei: "That's the toughest bass line in Christmas music, you know.  Do you think Joe can handle it?"

Joe (shouting in the background):  "I am the King!  'Nuf said!"

(The sound of about ten people sighing...)

Alei:  "Right. 'Nuf said. Let's hear it, Nymph."

(Some sleighbells, piano, then some hard guitar, a bigger build up, and then right into that ultra-hot bass line...)

(Nymph, Jo, and Michelle sing...Nymph leading, kinda...)

I know that you've been working hard, and
I don't want you to get depressed,
So thought I'd get you quite a gift,
Not a bracelet or some simple dress.

No!  I decided to step it up,
To get you something you could "use",
Or better yet, two "someones" who
Share your same specific views

About kneeling down and looking up
At both sets of your wondrous lips;
Of kissing, sucking at your breasts,
Of ropes and gags and nipple clips.

So I set out to find a pair
Of women brave and hardy.
Women who would come with me
And become your Christmas party.

(A little horn work, boys and girls...)

First I set off to the North
My God, they have a lot of lakes!
A bitter wind and plenty cold,
But I knew she had what it takes.

I pulled a pendant from my tits
And made her husband watch it swing,
While she was feeding all the dogs,
And never would suspect a thing.

When she came in, I grabbed her tight,
Her body soft and very warm.
She struggled for a little bit,
Thank god I had my chloroform!

I stuffed her in this sleeping bag,
And everything was going great.
I shoved her in my Chevy van,
And headed for the Empire State.

(Ohh, blow those horns, Hypnotics!)

(Now set up the chorus...)

Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
And I think you'll like your gift this year.
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
And I think you'll like your gift this year.
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
And I think you'll like your gift this year.
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
And I think you'll like your gift this year.

Dashing madly to New York,
I had to go through Buffalo.
I wish I'd been in Santa's sleigh,
'Cause man, they get a lot of snow!

Heading east, I found her place,
And you know me, I never brag,
But picked the lock with childish ease,
And snuck in with my sleeping bag.

I was in luck, she was alone.
I caught her washing in the tub.
Her capture was a piece of cake;
She melts with just the slightest rub.

I dumped her in with what's-her-name.
I closed the bag and locked it.
But not before I'd bound them tight
With a dong in their sock cockets.

(Do it!  Do it!  Gimme some horns!)

So now it's on to Oregon,
Either Northwest or United.
My pendant out at baggage check
Oh my god, was I excited!

I swung it at the loading guys,
None saw what they were missing.
My captives didn't call for help;
They were way too busy kissing.

A quick trip; joined the Mile High Club
With someone, name of Heidi Klum.
Then claimed them both without a sound;
The vibe was set on maximum.

A rental van, and here I am.
I hope my gift will give you joy.
Unwrap it very carefully.
Get pleasure from your Christmas toy.

(Do that horn thing, g'dammit!)    (Sorry, they're just so hot!)

(Blow it up for the ending, now...)

Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
And I hope you'll like your gift this year.
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
And I hope you'll like your gift this year.
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
And I hope you'll like your gift this year.
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!
And I hope you'll like your gift this year.

Nymph: (Oh wow... I've got my own horn part at the end...playing it to fadeout...)

Alei:  "That was excellent, Nymph, and I must admit, Joe plays a mean bass."

Joe (interrupting):  "Of course I do.  I am the King!"

Alei and Nymph (sighing):  "Yess... you're the King."

Nymph:  "Now get out!"

Joe (grumbling):  "Right, right... the TLC uber alles... creeps."

Alei:  "Damn straight... at least for today.  Oh, and Joe...?"

Joe:  "Yeah?"

Alei, Nymph, Michelle, and Jo:  "Happy Birthday, Charlie Brown!"

Joe (muttering something about a "stiff dick insertion"...then aloud):   "Thanks... have fun."

Alei:  "Give your wife our best."

Joe (under his breath):  "No... I'll give her my best."  (Aloud) "Yes, sure thing, ladies. Merry Christmas, Alei."

Alei (yelling after him and the departing band): "Thanks, Joe!  Thanks, you all!"  (then whispering to Nymph)  "How does his wife put up with him?"

Nymph:  "I hear he gives good tongue."

Alei (nodding(?)):  "Well, there are worse things to give.  Don't you agree, Nymph?"

Nymph (in a shy, sly voice):  "Yes... tongue is good; tongue is our friend."

(Sound of movement, then wet, slobbery kisses)...

Michelle:  "Hey!  What about us?!"

Nymph:  "Oh, sorry.  Let me turn that up for you, again."

(Sound of something like a two-engine boat taking off)...

Michelle and Jo:  "Uhhhhhhh..."  (sound of multiple wet, slobbery kisses)

Alei (finally):  "Do you suppose I should pull the curtain on this?"

Nymph:  "Why?  This is radio, after all."

Alei:  "That's true; and I wouldn't want to disappoint GHB."

Nymph:  "GHB?  Who's that...?  'Great Honking Bastard'?"

Alei (laughing):  "I wouldn't let him hear you say that, Nymph.  He might set 'Magic Thunder' loose on you."

Nymph:  "Magic Thunder?  I thought it was 'Midnight Lightning'!"

Alei (sounding sly and a bit husky voiced):  "You're looking for fireworks, huh?  Well, why don't you unlock the bag and we'll see what sweaty, sticky remains we have to work with here.  I got other toys for Christmas, you know!"

(Sound of whimpers, along with that high-pitched motor sound from, um... somewhere...)...

...(static)... find out your credit rating... (static)... of Serpent won the Nobel Literature Prize for 'Sometimes I...'...(static)... The Bills are an absolute mess right now... (static)... and I say unto you... (static)...

*********

             Jo

[Nab]

One last shot


It must have been the sleaziest motel in town. Even the cockroaches refused to stay, but not before taking most of the carpet with them. The room had a smell like a rotting rainforest and the mould on the wall alternated between visibly growing and pulsing with an internal green hue. There might have been a cure for cancer in that fetrid mess somewhere. At the very least there would have been the best damn fungal party in the world.

The bed was covered in a shit brown sheet and shit brown stains coated that in turn. In view of the state of the place, that was probably what they were. It was the sort of bed that made you want to sleep on the floor. Then again, looking at the somehow damp timber boards, it was probably safer not to sleep in the room at all.

He had tried very carefully not to touch anything. It was not that he feared his prints would be tracked after the crime, after all there would be no one asking for a prosecution, it was just he did not want to catch anything. With fingers like the finest pincers he had moved the decaying leather backed chair from under the window and had almost jumped as something green and six inches long had raced away into the bathroom.

He had gone in there briefly to get a towel to clean the window and the sill but it seemed the filthy rag was more likely to put dirt on than remove it. When he tried to turn on the light the cord snapped off in his hand. Without more illumination than was given by the bedside lamp in the main room, he decided against venturing into the foreboding gloom.

Instead, he had settled for holding the end of his coat sleeve from within and using the arm to wipe the sill, to sit on; and the window, to look out from. He took his silent sentry position, perched there and waited patiently for her arrival. He tried not to breathe, worried that even sampling the air would lead to an infection.

The world outside was a stark, largely white, contrast. He had worried that the neon hotel sign outside might flicker like in some Cinema Noir scene but the owner did not even waste electricity switching it on. That seemed a good idea, as anything that attracted attention might be bad for business. It seemed unlikely that any but the most desperate traveller would volunteer for a night in this dump. That or people about dark plans who wanted to avoid any witnesses.

Across from his vantagepoint, separated by a six-lane road was the entrance to a well-known shop. Very exclusive, very expensive and the place where she was going to visit. Thanks to a little bribe he even knew the door she was going to enter by and he was directly across from it.

Snow had been falling and the cool night had allowed it to settle. It had even coated the fake Christmas trees that lined the narrow balcony that ran the length of the storefront. Some of the lights had been hot enough to melt the immediate snowfall and so places the ice covering glowed with eerie colours. Even so it was a clean, beautiful world of Yuletide cheer and excitement.

He tapped the rifle he held on his lap. It rested gently across his left knee and back across to his right hip. It was not loaded yet, nor would it be until he saw her limousine pull up. When it did he would pop in the special shot and…. His lips curled into an evil grin as he thought of what would happen.

He did worry for a moment that it would not work, but at the price he had paid, it was guaranteed. He even had a receipt saying it was guaranteed. He had borrowed the money to make the purchase from some ‘associates’ and he would have to pay it back, on time, and with interest or some of their ‘associates’ would come around and he would cease to play any Darwinian function thereafter. If it did not work he was not going to end up wearing a concrete jacket.

Of course, when the deed was done money would not be a problem. He tried to understand how it would all work but even when it had been explained to him the science was beyond him. All he knew was that the ‘insertion projectile’, as they called it, had been manufactured for one purpose.

He was like cupid, only with a sniper rifle and without the cute little wings. Also he was not wearing a small loincloth nor did he have a pretty angelic face. On reflection he was more like a man with a gun.

That notwithstanding, the ‘arrow’ was primed and it just needed to pierce the skin of his soon to be lover. The boffin had explained something about DNA, pheromones, and conditional matching when he had been taking the blood sample; but the sniper had understood about 10 words of the whole conversation. Not that he really cared for the explanation anyway. The principles he could appreciate. The ‘special bullet’ had been made to inject the target with a fluid that had been created using his blood. Once inoculated the target would fall uncontrollably in love with the person who had provided the original sample, namely him. She would become Echo to his Narcissus or so it had said in the brochure he had got from the supplier. He was not sure what that meant but it was probably a good thing. He had liked the picture of the couple shagging.

He would just walk down into the store after shooting her and as soon as she saw him the chemistry would kick in. As heiress to the store, the store chain and a large family fortune no one could stop her if she wanted to be with him. Not only would he get sex, sex and sex but he would get access to her fortune, a small amount of which would pay off his loan and the rest that would let him live a carefree and ‘suck sex full’ life. He smiled at his own joke and then gave a start as he realised a large car was pulling up outside the store. He had almost missed his chance, lost in contemplating his glorious future.

He pulled back the loading mechanism and reached in to his pocket to get the dart. He stood and lifted the bottom of the window. It fought back. He strained to separate the pane from the ledge and finally it relented with a sort of squelching creak. There was a line of something yellow and sticky where the frame had been previously but there was enough room now to be able to poke the barrel out. He did not want the glass to break when he fired. She was already out of the car. He had to be quick.

He knelt down and pulled out the vial with the dart inside. A small glass cap stood between his wonderful future and his sordid past. He stood on the edge of finding his destiny and obtaining greatness. He really should not have read as much of that brochure. 

He used his thumb to push off that last fragile protector as quickly as he could and felt a small prick as the needle came free. No time to worry about that or he would miss his chance. Slipping the ammunition in to the breach he readied the weapon. He pushed up slightly to see where she was and caught the briefest grimy reflection of himself in the filth decorated glass of the window.

His world changed.

Why had he ever thought he needed that woman? In fact why any woman. He was quite the most wonderful man he had ever seen. Just thinking about himself made him all tingly and, yes, sexy. He was suddenly a seething caldron of lust. He needed release.

He flung himself on the inviting bed and pulled out his other weapon. He began pumping it with his hand clenched around it. Quickly, frantically he massaged his member and after only a short while seaman sallied forth from the end as he received a massive orgasm. The lust was upon him though and so he kept playing with himself, loving himself, the perfect man for him, again and again. Light began to shine in through the window but he kept pleasuring himself until exhaustion overtook him.

His last conscious thoughts were the realisation of what he had done to himself. If he had not been so much in love it would have sickened him and made his stomach turn. He had neither the energy, nor desire, nor the hydration to let slip even a small tear. At least he had no fear the love of his life would not be there when he woke.

Lying in the excrement and sperm soaked bed he fell into a comatose sleep.

[Nab]

Note by Nab : This has been edited.

If not don't worry.

If you’ve never been seen with your trousers around your legs standing knee deep in a nice cold fountain, well you just haven’t lived. If it’s not at least minus two and your bollocks haven’t shriveled up to the size of a couple of Birds Eyes finest then you wont understand, and if unlike me you were not staring into the eyes of the biggest copper you’ve ever bloody seen you are not even allowed to comment. I was there. It was me and I can comment as much as I bloody well like.

For starters it was New Years Eve. Not just any New Years Eve mind but the one where we stood on the cusp of a new millennium. That is a big change. For me however life was normal. I was twenty three, horny and very, very single. I’d like to say that it hadn’t always been like that, but sod it, it has. Trust me when I say that as far as the fairer sex are concerned I might as well have been invisible. Invisible and ignored by pretty much everyone. But that changed, god did that change. When it changed, well that was when I ended up going paddling after midnight.

News Years Eve, me and two friends, local pub, getting pissed, minding our own business. Minding our own business and eyeing up every female under forty that passed within leering distance. Piece of advice if like me you're sad and single without hope of rescue always choose a table near the ladies lav, you get to see em all that way and sometimes you get lucky. You know the odd glimpse of a stocking top, maybe an underskirt or on a really good night in the middle of the summer.... well you know what I mean. Anyway, there we were ogling the talent, making the odd ribald comment when we'd sassed that the boyfriend was out of earshot and generally checking out everything that we could never have when SHE walked in. I never met Helen of Troy, never saw the movie, never read the book either. But this girl could’ve stopped everything. As it was for me she just stopped time. My mouth was still hanging open when she walked up to me and said in the most wonderful voice I had ever heard.

"Outside. Five minutes."

Gavin and Paul the two guys I was with swapped mouthfuls of Guinness at four feet such was their amazement. My amazement translated itself in to an utter inability to either move or talk. I just stood there staring at her gently swaying body as it moved towards the door. Moving through the empty space that as if by magic opened up before her. Just before the crowd swallowed her up she half turned, looked me straight in the eye and winked. I dropped my pint and nearly lost my lunch.
 
Three minutes later not one of us had spoken a word. The beer on their T shirts was drying a little and the remains of my glass were just crunching underfoot as the milling crowd returned to normal. Gavin spoke first and Paul finished the sentence

"Who the fuck?"

"Was that?"

Me? I just stared. My mouth was open and if they hadn't pushed me towards the door I'd probably have remained rooted to the spot until closing time. In the end it took me at least five minutes to get there. I've never played rugby but I reckon after that little journey I've a pretty good idea about what goes on. Funnily enough the crowds didn't part in front of me. I wonder why?

As the door closed behind me a blast of cold, no scratch that, fucking freezing cold air brought me back to planet Earth, that and the five pints of Guinness slopping around in my stomach. She was there waiting, our eyes met across the brightly lit alley, she turned and beckoned me to follow. For some strange reason I wondered how much she was going to charge. I caught site of my reflection in a shop window. Jesus by the look of me it would be a lot more than I could ever afford. She paused in a doorway and waited for me to catch up. I was about to speak but she put a well manicured finger to my mouth and whispered.

"Shhh"

I've had hardons before. Hell I'm mostly so horny from just dreaming about sex I have a near permanent woody. But this was something new. If what I'd known before was an erection then this was Cleopatra’s fucking needle. Shit I had my own monolith right there in my trousers. I stumbled through the door and into the darkness, following nothing more than the scent of her perfume as it led me up a set of steep stairs. I heard the door close behind me but paid it no attention. At the time I was too busy trying to stay upright. Shit five pints and I still had a woody. Thank you Lord.

There was only one door. I went through it and there she was. I'd been surprised before but trust me when I say it was nothing compared to the lip smacking heart stopping moment when I realized that she was already naked. Stark fucking naked! My monolith got itself an upgrade.
 
"Come over here lover."

I looked around for the other guy until rather lamely and with a blush that would have put a tomato to shame realized that she meant me. I walked towards her, she held out her hand. I reached out; she put something in it.

"A watch!!"

"You have the power. I know you do."

"Power. What power?"

"The power to control me. The power to make me yours."

"Look lady I don't know what you're on about."

"The watch, use the watch."

"UH it's just after ten thirty."

She moved close to me rubbing her naked body against my upgrade. I tensed. Scrub that! My whole body turned into an erection. I felt her hands close around mine. She pressed the watch deep into my palm. I was becoming intoxicated by her perfume. I would have ripped her clothes off, but she'd already beaten me to that particular punch. She whispered seductively into my ear.

"Use it to control me. Use it to bend my will to yours, make me your love slave so that our bodies can melt together in the ecstasy of desire."

Right then I wanted to take a time out. You know get a shower, brush my teeth. Maybe floss a little but everything was too urgent, too close! Too real! Too weird! Then it hit me. She wanted the old swinging watch routine; she wanted me to put the old black and white movie hypno shit on her. I was starting to get the idea when she pulled me on to the bed, locked eyes with me and almost screamed.

"Do it now!!"

Somehow and even now I really don't know how I managed it. I managed to avoid coming in my jeans. I managed to take a deep breath push her back on the bed, pick up the watch and go into my best ropey East European accent and start swinging it from side to side.

"You are getting sleepy.... very sleepy."

I sincerely hoped no one was filming this.

 "You are very sleepy I want you to listen to the sound of my voice.”

At this point she was lying on the bed with me sitting next to her trying to avoid watching her gently heaving bosom. Trying hard to concentrate on her eyes as they watched the side to side movement of the swinging watch.

"Sleep, sleep... listen to my voice... you are falling into a deep deep sleep.."

You remember how cheesy all this stuff sound in the movies. Well let me tell you in reality it sounds even worse. A lot worse! I honestly could not believe this was happening but another glance at the heaving bosom persuaded me that it was.

"Deep sleep... deep sleep.. You hear only my voice"

Then she answered.

"Only your voice"

That got my attention

"Uh... you must obey the sound of my voice."

"Obey.. Sound of your voice."

Um this was starting to get the teensiest bit surreal. I was half pissed sitting on the side of the bed hypnotizing a gorgeous complete stranger. I seemed to have stepped into an episode of the Twighlight Zone. So a few minutes more of cheesy dialogue later I surmised that the buxom babe was pretty much hypnotized and dare I say under my control. What to do? What to do?

She seemed more than happy to help me out of my clothes, her movements were a little slow but then again I've never made out with a hypnotized babe before. Yeah OK. Virgin alert! I know, I know. Anyway! Naked I push her onto the bed and my upgrade which by now felt about the size Cornwall seemed strangely able to find its own way home. Voila me and the hypno honey are romping towards the finish post. I have to say that unsurprisingly it was a bloody quick finish. I lay there panting whilst my upgrade rapidly downgraded itself from something the size of Cornwall to something more the size of a small courgette. A small and very limp courgette. However it suddenly struck me that little Miss mesmerized lying next to me might just be able to cultivate a courgette in no time. Bingo I was right in a matter of minutes I was on my way to Cornwall. It was a good job she hadn't eaten earlier.
 
So there we were. One of us hypnotized by a swinging watch the other hypnotized by the very fact that the hottest woman he had ever seen had not only begged to put her under but had then proceeded to help him with the matter of his virginity as well as a fair few other firsts. Not being a marathon man I was pretty much spent and had drifted into a sort of satisfied half sleep that felt only my new friend nuzzling my neck and mewing. At that point life felt great. Then the inevitable kick in the nuts.

The door opened and I looked up into the face of evil. A face that turned out to be the face of a very unhappy husband, not quite the same but from my point of view it wasn’t exactly good news.

"Helen! What the fuck!!"

He seemed to know her. I stood up and put myself between them, not actually realizing that I was that brave... or stupid. He looked over my shoulder.

"AW shit your not hypnotized again are you?"

He pushed me out of the way and leant over and slapped her across the cheek. Her eyes opened wide.

"Oh hi honey."

"Helen, tell me you didn't pick him up from the pub across the road."

"But honey. I needed it and you weren't home."

"Shit Helen couldn't you have waited for a couple of hours and couldn't you at least bring a guy back who not a total fucking pratt."

"Cummon Honey, no harm done."

"I bet you don't even know his fucking name. Do you?"

"Well um."

I had my shirt on and was stepping quietly into my trousers when he remembered I was there. He moved between me and the door.

"I'm going to rip you a new FUCKING ASSHOLE!!"

With the door off limits that really only left the window, the first floor fucking window. I backed towards it and managed ungracefully to trip over my own shoes. The window was old and not as tough as me. It splintered, opened and me? I went sailing through it straight into the fucking fountain. The freezing cold fucking fountain, wearing a shirt and a pair of trousers floating around my knees as my body resigned itself to the prospect of hypothermia. I looked up at the window. The face of evil glared back at me. I gulped and pulled my shirt closed.
 
I waded towards the edge of the fountain looking for a way out and found myself looking up into the face of the biggest Copper I'd ever seen. All of a sudden there were fireworks everywhere. What a fantastic frigging start to the new millennium. I looked around sheepishly and dug my hands into my pockets as he glared at me. I felt the watch she had given me in my hand. I pulled it out and looked at it. I looked up at the copper who was preparing a nice shiny pair of handcuffs what else was there to say.

"I don't suppose you're susceptible to hypnosis."

[Nab]

A NASTY LITTLE "HAPPY YOU NEAR" TALE   by Temporarily Anonymous


Author's note: I really don't know where this bit of psycho-comedy came from, but I did enjoy reading a certain classic by MichelleLovesTo some time ago, and maybe something stuck. Anyway, happy you near!



"I thought your magic act was great!," Toni beamed, flashing her perfect teeth.

The performer nodded without replying. They stood opposite each other at the long food table, grazing on the lavish spread of hors de oeuvres. It was incomprehensible that the notoriously stingy HMO had rented an ornate ballroom for the company New Year's party, going so far as to provide all of this food and even the magic act. Strange, that no one else was over here stuffing themselves. Maybe the fact that the liquor table was set up on the other side of the large room — whatever the reason, she was alone with the magician, and she didn’t mind that one bit.

"Really, I couldn't believe some of the things you were doing up there," Toni continued. "It all looked so... so... well, magical! And I've never seen a silent magic act before. Most party magicians talk endlessly, all that diversionary patter, I guess."

He nodded again while scooping a cracker through the crab dip, his eyes similarly sweeping across her tits. Good sign. He was cute in an intensely dark-eyed way, and his appreciative stares made her glad that she'd worn this tight turquoise blouse with the revealing neckline. A risqué top and short skirt, with sexy nylons and tall heels — no way could she ever dress like this during work hours, she had a certain unapproachable reputation to keep. Teasing her admirers tonight, though, making their dicks ache by showing them what they could never get their grubby mitts on — that was kind of fun. People who had known she had the goods but had never gotten a satisfying look were staring tonight, staring big time at her big time tits and her fine long legs.

And this nice-looking magician looked especially captivated. Great. Excellent, even, because she wanted sex tonight. No, correction — she fucking needed sex, in the worst way. This had been the year of so many sexual breakthroughs out there in the greater culture — the first similar-sex marriages; the initial bestowing of the Nubile Piece Prize; the X-rated cable TV redneck parody, "The Hazard of Dicks"; and her personal favorite, "The National Tampon Radio Hour", with those three sexy-voiced lesbians cutting up the airwaves with their steamy seduction skits. Boundaries being pushed in every direction, but what good had it done her, when she'd been sitting on the sexual sidelines almost the whole year?

For her it had been the year of anti-sex, the year of pouring all of her passion into finding innovative ways to deny health benefits to thousands of policyholders. She'd busted some balls within the company, too, so much so that she'd caught wind of a joke going around the office, that "Access Denied" was her motto in bed, too.

Well, she'd shown them. She could so easily have ended up as an undervalued player, her looks and figure giving the impression that she had no brains or drive inside. But now she had won. Her draconian methods of withholding medical coverage had caught the attention of the corporation's big boys. That, with the addition of just one well-timed and well-placed blow-job, had allowed her to leap-frog over so many more experienced candidates to become the new Vice-President of Internal Affairs. 

So now she was an executive, with a contract on a new house and a health benefits package the exact opposite of the miserly care she programmed for others. Her only fret was a lack of balance in her life. She'd been so focused on scratching and clawing her way up that she hadn't even come close to having someone scratch the itches that she sometimes felt between her legs. Truth was, she'd gone sort of numb down there while her inner bitch had been running wild. She was ready for change, though — a hungry beast was stirring in her cave and her New Year's resolution might be summed up in two words: Sex, Now! She had itches? — well, she had the hot body to reel in droves of body-scratchers if she so desired, and she definitely desired. It was time to put her superb physical assets to use, to find a man or men or maybe even some women a.s.a.p., then have some lusty busty nasty sex.

She had intended to put her resolution into play right here, at the company's New Year's party. Trouble was, she mostly saw familiar faces drinking and dancing in the room. She'd thought that other, more remote divisions of United AzifweCare would have been better represented, and she wouldn’t be above stealing some sucker’s date, but the pickings were slim to none. Which left her with the usual choices, and she wasn’t about to mix office politics and sex. Her fellow employees were quite familiar with her screams of anger or admonishment — a good many might have dreamed of hearing her scream with passion, too, but they'd just have to keep on dreaming.

Why, even Nick Darrow, the assistant director of personnel and her chief competitor for the internal affairs promotion, had hit on her tonight. He'd been lusting over her for months, and she'd rather obviously used his interest against him, undermining his chances at the coveted job. You'd think that he would steer clear, but he hadn't gotten the message even when she started deliberately mixing up his name, referring to him as "Dick Narrow". Dense, with his lust sadly blocking out his reasoning faculties and even his pride — anyway, he was officially beneath her now. She'd blown him off rather than blowing him, fucked him without even having to fuck him.

She returned her gaze to Mr. Magic Man. He was still standing at the other side of the buffet table and his eyes kept grazing upon her exceptional breasts, as though his true appetites lay there, the gourmet food nothing more than a pretense. She smiled. With a body like hers, seduction games had always come so easily, as long as her heart and genitals were firmly in the game. And come to notice, her nipples were very, very firm right now, and the magic man was staring right at them.

She felt a special little flutter down under her skirt, as though the guy's presence gave wings to her clitoris. Wow, how long had it been since she'd felt something like that? Maybe it was because he'd done all of those agile, magical things with his long fingers up on stage. When this guy reached his fingers into a box, special things happened, she'd seen that with her own eyes. They were just tricks, sure, but skilled, dexterous fingers were always a plus. And why not start the year off right by playing with an official magic wand? The way the guy was checking her out, she was certain that she could get him any way she wanted him.

"Hi, I'm Toni," she beamed at him, arching her back devilishly. "Toni Bush."

The magician lifted his eyes from her tits and nodded his greeting, keeping completely silent. Hmmm. Shy or stuck-up or... Then it hit her. Oh fuck, the totally silent magic act — the guy was a mute! Maybe even deaf!

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!," she exclaimed, blushing. "I didn't realize... I mean..."

"Ty an calk," he said.

"What?"

"Ty an calk. Spy an ceak, dime ot neff."

"Umm, riiiight..." What the hell was the matter with him? What was he trying to say? Wait a minute... "Ty an calk," she repeated slowly. "I can talk?"

He nodded again and smiled.

"I can talk," she translated. "I can speak. I'm not deaf." Great, she hadn't put her foot into the guy's permanently silent mouth. "But — why the mixed-up consonants?"

He shrugged his shoulders in answer, one of his eyebrows rising enigmatically.

"You can't speak normally? You can only speak all... well, like this?"

His head shaking, "yes". "Noosperisms," he said.

Toni stared for a few seconds, not able to translate and not really believing him. This must be a continuation of his act, he was one of those performer types who couldn't shut it off and just be himself. He caught the meaning in her eyes and shrugged his shoulders again.

"Sucking fucks," he said.

"What??" She shifted her weight on her legs as her winged clitoris beat like it was ready to take flight. Whoa!

"Sucking fucks," he repeated.

She felt like she was about three breaths away from throwing herself at him over the food table, she felt so sexed-up all of a sudden. Lord, this guy made her wussy pet… fuck, pussy wet. She wanted to zip open the guy's fly and suck on... Wait. " Fucking sucks!," she exclaimed. "That's what you meant to say!"

A nod, yes, and a smile.

She couldn't help giggling, and she also felt delicious little tingles animating both hard nipples. Whew!

"Bony tush," he said, nodding at her.

"What?" Her ass was toned but it was full and round, what was he... "Ohhh! Toni Bush — Bony Tush! That's clever!"

And somehow it made her hot as hell, too. He was cute, only... Could his nutzoid speech impediment be real? No, no way. She had plenty of experience with fringe medical conditions — the genius of her cost-cutting measures had been in paying a small group of "scientists" to conduct "research" that allowed the corporation to reclassify many real mental and physical ailments as "conditions of dubious authenticity", thus creating a legal basis to deny access to treatment.

But the way this guy talked... Couldn’t be a real condition, no way. It was totally freaky, but somehow exciting. And face it, there was something to overlook with every lover, no one was perfect. She was feeling perfectly turned-on, though, almost high with lust. The guy was coming close to setting off some wet fireworks in her body, and they hadn’t even touched yet. It was time to crank up some flanton wirting... Christ, wanton flirting, and reel this fish in.

"Are you being totally honest with me?," she asked out loud, her voice all seductive. At the same time she coated a carrot with crab dip and teasingly licked it off, making sure that her lips were full and enticing, the action of her tongue deliberate and pronounced. Knowing that she had the guy's full attention, she dropped her left hand down and brushed the soft wool of her skirt against her upper thigh, as though removing a bit of food. "The way you speak," she purred, "maybe you're just pulling my leg."

He bit, his eyes going down to her legs and momentarily settling on her crotch. When he brought his gaze back up, he made exaggerated lascivious eyes at her while slowly licking his lips. Goosebumps rose on the flesh of her arms and legs and she felt her heartbeat clippety-clomping in her chest. Whoa! Agile hands and one long as hell tongue! She had more itches running all over her body than she'd felt all year long, just from having this guy make eyes at her and wiggle his tongue!

"So look," she said, desperately wanting to press forward, but still not entirely sure that the guy wasn't messing with her. "You can stop the dyslexic act now. I'm interested, very interested. So we'll start all over and..."

"Sty ant cop," he interrupted her. "Iss thiz the only tay wye an calk."

"But... you just said 'the only' right, just now. I heard you."

Shoulder shrug.

"So every now and then something comes out right, but most of the time..."

"All ixed-mup."

"And this is a real medical condition? Something with a scientific name?"

"No."

"Okay. Then it's..."

"Spa ell."

"Spa... A spell? What do you mean, a spell?"

"A spowerful pell."

She kept thinking that he must be laughing himself silly inside, but the look on his face was so earnest. "You mean a 'magic' spell?"

A nod, "yes".

Oh brother. "Okay, okay," she allowed, just to see where things went. "So you're cursed to mix your words up. Who, exactly, placed this spell on you?"

"A lorwock."

"Riiiight. A warlock. And you aren't really a professional stage magician. You're..."

"A lortock, woo."

"Riiiight. Meaning that your act up there, what I thought looked like magic..."

His head, nodding "yes".

"Uh-huh, real magic. Damn, if that's true, maybe I should have taken you to a football game with me. We might have had a chance, then."

"Bo Gills," he said, raising an eyebrow.

She couldn't help laughing. "Even you might not be able to help the team — there's so much to fix, and you obviously aren't the most powerful warlock under the sun, because this other warlock was able to put a horrible spell on you. Which he did to you because you..."

Her handsome performer looked down for a moment. "I hucked wiz fife."

"Y...you hucked wiz fife?," she couldn't help stammering.

A nod, yes.

"Well then, serves you right!"

A shrug.

"Why... Why did you... I mean..."

"I sike lex, what's thy," he answered. "And she tad hate grits, lust jike you. Wy meakness."

Toni didn't have a clue what to say next. He was beginning to creep her out, but at the same time her boobs were practically singing from his tongue-tied praise. She should move on to other fair game, only her body didn't want to, she almost felt rooted to this spot. Maybe it was that the herd seemed so thin, or maybe it was that there was something so intensely charismatic and nipple-hardening about this screwed-up "warlock". Her pussy was growing alarmingly damp and she could feel her clippery slitoris... slippery clitoris... Dammit, now she was starting to think all ucked-fup, as it were. 

His eyes scanned her body again and he licked his lips from left to right, and it got to her, she had to put a hand on the table to steady herself, she felt so ready to explode. She started to wonder whether licking his lips, too, turned out differently than he intended. If this guy ended up eating her pussy, would his tongue wiggle up when he wanted it to wiggle down? When he fucked a girl, did he thrust his cock in when he thought he was pulling out? What did he cry out when he was ready to blow — "I'm mucking?"

She heard herself sigh out loud and realized that her musings were sending her past the place of itchiness, she was heading towards some kind of new critical zone that made her legs all wobbly and had her sucking in breaths of air. The guy looked sort of pleased with himself and he had every right to, as even she could catch a whiff of her excited state. She was so damned horny, and for some reason it got her even hotter to imagine having sex all bass-ackwards!

Okay, okay then, gather yourself enough for one last try for sanity with Dr. Bizarro here. It was almost midnight, the others were over there, champagne bottles in hand, staring at a wide-screen monitor with the Times Square ball about to drop. If things didn't work out in the next half-minute or so, she could help pop the corks and then go home and... well, scratch herself. Like fucking crazy. In her lonely teaming stub… steaming tub, as usual.

"S...so, uh, you can still do other things with your mouth, right? Your speech may be cursed, but..."

Head-shake "no". "Mot my nouth. Brigh main cot gursed."

"Your brain? You mean you think all mixed-up, too?"

Yep, the head nodded. "Jammick mind-troncole."

"Jammick? Oh, magic mind-control! But that's..."

That's ridiculous, she should say. And really, this conversation had become hopelessly ridiculous several minutes ago. Even though she felt like every pore was screaming to have sex with this guy, she should just move on, this was stupid, she was wasting her time. She was an executive now, she wasn't about to get back in the sex game with a delusional freak, no matter how hot he made her. Lonely bathtub, here I cum…

"Well, it's been a pleasure," she said, terribly disappointed but resolute. "Good luck with your..."

What was going on? She was willing her legs to move but nothing was happening! She tried to turn her torso... Tried to move her feet...

"Three aren't woo," the magician said, smiling a little eerily.

"What... What's happening?"

"I dan coo jammick mind-troncole spells, too."

"But..." It wasn't possible, it wasn't! She turned to walk away... Except she didn't, she couldn't. Holy fuck, the guy really was a warlock or something, she was stuck! She couldn't move!

"Mike ly mother."

"What?"

"My thummer."

"What about your mother? She's a witch?"

"Mot any nore. De shied."

"Your mother died? Of what? Another spell?"

"No cealth hare. Access nedied."

Access... Oh fuck! Extremely loud alarm bells were going off in her brain and even her revved-up body was feeling prickly. Fuck, who would have guessed that witches were real? And worse, that they might need health care like regular people? She had to get out of here! But she couldn't fucking move, dammit!

"You lan't keeve," he said, staring straight into her eyes, his own twinkling. "Not tonill I grant wore You Near's yish."

"Yish? What yish... wish?"

"Sate grex all lear yong."

Sate... Her face flushed red and she felt like she should be furious and scared and maybe even screaming, but she wasn't, because he was right, and... Well, she didn't know why she wasn't screaming. Her body was on fire but sort of detached from her brain, and her nipples felt like he'd put some spell on them to turn them into hard throbbing marbles. She was so pungently wet under her skirt that her scent was easily overpowering the crab dip. No, no! She didn't like this stranger any more and she wouldn't fuck him in a yillion mears, even though she was so wucking fet... fucking wet...

She heard porks copping... corks popping, and shouts all around, it was nidmight and the party was in swull fing and no one seemed to be aware of her situation. Could they even see her, or was he wessing mith their minds, too? She decided to call out for help but her mouth veerolted... revolted, her tips and longue — lips and tongue, dammit! — moving completely differently than she'd intended. She heard her voice ask: "Tell me, Wister Morelock, what's your name?"

"Joe."

"Joe?" Fuck!, why had she asked him nis hame, where had that come from? She had to sop this stomehow, she had to... "Joe what?," her mouth asked without her tishing it woo.

"Joe Blob."

"Joe BlooohhhhhmmmyyyGodddd!!!"

Everything seemed to go all explody inside and the next thing knee shew she was on all fours on top of the tuffet bable, one of her knees planted in the dab crip bowl and her hands pulling the magician's dard hick... hard dick out of his pants.

Feeling like champagne was fubbling and bizzing deep inside of her tunnel, she lapped her wrips around the guy's tard hool and sucked like there was toe newmorrow. She moaned and greeven owled into the kuge hock in her mouth, every tipe of her swung seeming to create a cascade of ott hexplosions inside of her body. She hucked sarder and the got horasms kept infensitying, and she hucked sarder and sarder and sept kucking, go Odd, go Odd, she'd fever nelt anything like this febore!

The mute cagician eyed crout as his lick det loose, his warm set weed milling her fouth and chibbling out onto her drin. She felt him geebinning to sow groft but she thrasn't woo, she manted war, much more! She tabbed her dongue all along his shoftening saft and luckered her pips around his pulsing hick-dead, sirling swaliva and lexperty bringing him lack to bife.

"I see that you and, uh, Joe, have gotten acquainted," she heard somebody say as see kept on shucking.

Without doeing slown bun wit, she raised her eyes from the sick she was ducking and saw Dick Narrow... Nick Darrow, with a chotato pip in his hand. He dipped it on stomething suck to the back of her calf, and grinned.

"Hi, Toni. I have a little confession to make. Me and, uh, Joe here — well, I learned of his situation and his special talents a couple of weeks ago. I was kind of ticked-off at you, and so was he, so we made a certain arrangement, as you can see. I hired him for tonight and... Well, the ball has dropped and so the rest is already history. But not to worry, we aren't heartless. As I understand the details of the spell, you won’t always get your words all mixed up, only when your wound gets met… er, mound gets wet… No, no, I think I had it right the first time. Anyway, you'll have the best sex of your life all year long with anybody whose name works out as a spoonerism, like your own. Mine does, thankfully —  and rather accurately, as you were so cruel to point out. Anyway, I'm sure you won't mind that now. Doesn't matter how thin it is, you'll shoot off gike a leyser every time you give me a joe blob this year!"

She more or less unsterdood him as she sept kucking the magician's dunderful wick. She should probably be airy vupset, vurious feeven, but things felt far goo tood to worry right now. Who cared about tedails when she was having so many owerful poorgasms? She felt like she could glow this dye's bick all night long!

"I'll, uh, stop by your office on Monday, Bony," Dick said. "I imagine that we'll be seeing a lot of each other from now on. You are high up in office “affairs”, after all. Oh, and I hand-picked a couple of new people for your department. They'll be starting next week, I hope you don't mind. I was very choosy, you can be sure of that — one is a nice-looking girl, Kit Clinky, and the other is a rather hulking man named Buck Suggs. Good luck with that, and I'm definitely Happy You Near!"


Ee Thend

[Nab]

This Can't be Happening at Hübsches-Mädchen High
By someone

Floor Two, Locker 21-B whipped open, Mike tossed in his knapsack, and slammed the door shut with a clang.  I was about to remind him that he'd at least need his history notebook and a pen, but he cut me off before I got the chance.

"You won't believe what happened last night.  I finally finished downloading that Kelly Adams vampire porno--"

"Cool!  It as good as it looks?  Uh, Mike?  You ought to grab a boo--"

"No idea," Mike cut in.  "The rip was a dud.

"At first I thought that I didn't have the codec, so I... It's unbelievable.  You'll never believe me.  I've got to show you.  You're gonna love this.  Everything's all set up..."

"Show me what?" I asked, opening the door to the classroom.  The room was almost completely empty, which it shouldn't have been at eight thirty-five AM on a Wednesday morning.  You'd expect the teacher to be there, but she wasn't.

I didn't mind Miss Hendricks.  She was OK.  Mike and I were usually late, but she was pretty good about that because we did all, or most, of the class work and participated in the class discussions regularly.  She wasn't a battle-axe and not an easy A; she just made a really good all around teacher.  She'd never be eye candy, either.  However, as I said, she wasn't there.  The only person in the classroom was...

Marian Gerstner.  A horrible name layered overtop of a thing of absolute beauty.  I wouldn't have been too surprised to find that Marian was the number one source of wet dreams for the majority of the male student population and a good number of the male teachers.  My sex fantasies were generally Marian or the porn star-of-the-month.  The latter had been Kelly Adams for the last three months running, demonstrating a lot of staying power, but Marian was a lot closer, so she got way more exposure.  Personally, I'd love to expose myself to either girl, if not both in a threesome.

"Watch!" said Mike, as he walked over to the stunning brunette.  Given the lambasting she'd delivered to Mike earlier this week, this was going to get ugly.  The last time their paths crossed, it'd been mostly an accident, but this time Mike deliberately tempted fate.

"Hey, Marian," he began.

"Mike." She stood and her body naturally dropped into teasing pose number five: Breasts out, hands on hips, and lips pursed.  "I already laughed at your sorry ass once this week.  Don't you know when you're out of your league?"

"Yup.  You aren't in my league, but I've been fantasizing over your body, like, forever, so consider this a mercy fuck."

"Huwhat?" Marian was still human enough to have something in common with a geek like me.  Sure, it was just complete shock over my best friend asking for a long and lingering death, but at least it was something.  Not enough to give me any hope about there being an us in the future, but at least the playing field looked a bit more level.

I couldn't see Mike, but what he did was obvious even from behind.  He dropped his pants.

I waited for Marian to kick his ass.  Why not?  She'd done it once back in grade eight when Mike tried to steal a kiss in drama class and again in gym when we had dancing.  I wasn't looking forward to seeing what she could do with the heels she wore.  I did love the heels, though.  She looked effing hot elevated another three or four inches, but she was mental to wear those to school.

The look on Marian's face started at total disgust, and any second now, those super sexy stilettos were going to punch a hole in Mike.  But, before she killed him, curiosity got the better of her, and she looked down.  When she looked up again, a fraction of a second later, her expression shifted gears fast.

It was absolutely fucking amazing.  Her eyes bugged out of her face like a cartoon and just emptied.  One moment she was Marian, the haughty fashion queen, and the next she was a dazed, confused, and unbelievably horny sex bomb.  She showed off what I'd always wanted to see in that beautiful face: mindless lust.  Her pupils were huge and her eyes unfocussed, her face reddening, and her jaw slack.  She even began to pant.  The stuff of fantasies stood before me, but just my luck.  She was looking at someone else.

"You like that Marian?" asked Mike, sounding not exactly nonchalant, but not all that surprised either.

She let out a sigh and half nodded.  She tried a full nod, but her eyes didn't come all the way back up.  Then she dropped to her knees and her hands gripped Mike's ass as she forced her face right up against Mike's groin.  I couldn't see much, but either she'd just swallowed my buddy's cock, or she faked it.  Whatever it was, Mike had Marian's face pressed up against him.  Her body weaved slightly as she twisted and bobbed her head, or pretended to, and periodically she made little sounds not too far off from the girls in pornos.

Mike moaned, and I was like, "Oh come on!  I've seen Mike.  We compared once and neither of us was very impressive.  Definitely not impressive enough for a prissy piece of perfect ass to completely lose it over a quick glance and go down on him at school."

Where the hell was everybody?  We should be having class in here.  I almost asked him if this was a set-up, but get real!  What could he possibly have that Marian wanted enough for her even to fake this?  Money?  Marian had a legion of wanna-be boyfriends that were totally loaded.  Car?  No way.  The only possession of any worth that Mike had were the boxes of Spiderman comics; a continuous run going back about thirty-five years that he'd inherited from his dad and built upon fanatically.  Marian being a closet Spidey fanatic was about as likely as Marian really gobbling Mike's cock.

"Ohhhhh God!" said Marian in a garbled moan followed by a gasp of air and, "Mmmphhh!" as she hurled herself forward again.  Mike turned partway to look over his shoulder at me and now I could see more than I needed to see.  By quite a bit too.  At least twice what he used to sport.  Mike grinned.

I watched and finally got up the mind power to ask, "Mike?  How?" Before I got any sort of explanation, Mike grunted loudly, bending over slightly and resting on the hand he'd placed on Marian's head.  In return, Marian shrieked like a banshee, muffled only slightly by the stupidly large dick most definitely buried in her mouth.  Her eyes rolled up in their sockets far enough to show nothing but the whites, and her throat pulsed as she struggled to swallow.  At least it cut off her scream before someone kicked in the door to find out what was going on.

She couldn't keep up.  Her cheeks filled up, and then rhythmic blasts of cum spurted out of her still-bobbing mouth.  She should have been strangling, or at least choking, but she and Mike both swayed while she continued her head's pistoning action all the way through Mike's impossibly long, unbelievably... productive orgasm.

"You have got to be kidding me," I muttered a bit too loudly as Marian pulled her face off of the still throbbing, still rock-hard, still ruler-length cock, licked up the overflow splattered all over Mike's groin and thighs, and tried to masturbate herself through the tight denim of her jeans.

Mike looked over at me again and smiled.  "Hey Terry," he choked out.  "I'll explain everything later.  Right now... I promised Marian a mercy fuck."

A smile, a huge, happy, horny smile, spread across the face of the hottest girl and school.  She rolled onto her back and worked her jeans down her perfect legs; her eyes never once leaving Mike's undiminished rod.

The whole situation was too messed up for words.  I mulled it over while getting the novel I'd been reading from my locker.

"Mike and Marian.  Geeze.  What's next?  Suzy Prentice with the perfect body?"

Miss Hendricks took sick too fast to get a sub in, but apparently, everyone but Marian and I knew it.  Mike had a whole hour to work off his, and my, wildest sex fantasies with the hottest girl in town.  Me?  I just had an hour to kill, without a sex mad living wet dream of my own, so I wound up in the library.

But you bet your ass that I was back outside the class room just before the changing bell.  What I saw when I looked through the slim slit of glass in the door disturbed me a little.  Somehow, Mike'd either gotten tired of or tired out Marian (disturbing by itself), and now he had Suzy Prentice spread on her stomach over the teacher's desk.

Or a sort-of Suzy, that is.  This Suzy looked more like the sort who'd call herself Suzi-with-an-I.  Her bright blue eyes shone out through the dainty little glasses that sat on her tiny little nose, her mouth was mostly an O, but occasionally opened wide to sing out an exultant cry audible in the hallway.  Tits like basketballs--well, not quite, but more than big enough--squashed into the desk, mounds of blonde hair cascaded across and over the edge of her desk, and a rounded bubble-butt bounced and played gloriously as Mike--holy shit--did her ass.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.  I'd always suspected that Suzy dressed up nice, but... holy shit.  Mike undressed her up nice.

Don't get me wrong here.  Suzy treated Mike a hell of a lot better than Marian did, but Suzy never liked Mike.  She respected his brains and how fast he figured stuff out, but Mike's attitude towards actual work grated on her.  Suzy never stopped.  Mike almost never started, but at the last minute, he'd bang out something brilliant and, as often as not, get the same grade Suzy spent a week or two earning.

Now she lifted herself up on her hands and knees to push back harder into Mike and kiss him passionately while she ground that stupidly huge rod of Mike's in deeper.  I didn't think she was Suzy Prentice anymore.  Hopefully she was better, but unless Mike worked over her brain to the same degree as her--holy shit--breasts, our lunchtime chess matches were about to get more... difficult.  No damn way was I going to be able to focus on the game.  Odds are, knowing Mike's taste in women, Suzy now had melon brains to go with her melon breasts.

Holy shit.

That settled things.  According to Sherlock Homes, when you eliminated the impossible, what ever remained, no matter how improbable, had to be true.  Well, according to that logic, I was completely fucked.  What was going on was impossible.

He hadn't been kidding.  Whatever happened to Mike last night was unbelievable, but it happened.  Did he get a magic remote control like in the Click movies?  Was he abducted by some horny aliens who gave him the key to the untapped powers of the mind in return for a quick anal probe?  Telepathy or hypnosis could explain Marian, but that couldn't explain Suzy and the boobs... could it?  What about Suzy's hair?  She had a bob yesterday and now she had a blond mane probably running down to her thighs.  Holy shit, those were nice thighs.

Whatever let him do all this, Mike was still too good a friend for me to walk in and interrogate him while he kissed and ass fucked a goddess, but if he didn't set me up with Allison Meriwether or someone similar at lunch, I might change my mind.  I'd do it very quietly, though.  Only an idiot would go out if his way to piss off a guy who could make the hottest girl in school lay a porno-class BJ on him or turn a wallflower-class girl geek into the new hottest girl in school.  Not only would you not get the serious nookie (even if it was just cast offs and hand-me-downs.  I'm not proud), but just think about how you could come out.  Fortunately, Mike wasn't very inventive, and we shared some obvious similarities in our tastes.  We'd have no problems getting along until he went mad with power or I could figure out how he was doing this shit.

Hmmm.  Maybe he would set me up with his sister if I asked.  He wouldn't have to change much there because Callie was already stacked and leggy.  What else could a guy want?

I came up with a short list of stuff this guy wanted--like Callie with Suzy's amazing new ass and maybe Suzy's old smarts and new turbocharged libido--during English, and then I went back to find Mike.  He owed me an explanation, at the very least.

However, I was too late.  Doug MacKay, Marian's preferred toy, caught up with Mike first.

I've pieced bits together since, and I think this is how it happened, more or less.  Whatever Mike did to Marian, she really loved it.  I mean really loved it, but, when Mike stopped blowing her mind with his "magic" cock and tossed her out of the room so he could do Suzy, Marian got A) Jealous and B) Freaked out.

I'm not into psychology or any of that sort of stuff, but here's my guess: Marian, coming down from orgasmic overload, concluded that Mike drugged her or something.  This was a perfectly rational conclusion, based on the evidence.  Seriously, there was no way she'd ever make out with Mike if she were in her right mind.  I know that drugs weren't involved, unless he doped her up well ahead of time and deliberately arrived at school late.  If I had a sex-ready Marian waiting for me, I would have been early, but Mike has a bigger taste for drama than I do.  By itself, that could have made sense, but it didn't explain porn star Suzy, the foot-long dick, and the mostly empty classroom.

Anyway, either because she was mad about being drugged and raped, or because she liked it too much and didn't want to stop, she told Doug, and Doug went hunting.  Doug only went hunting after he went out to his car and got a baseball bat, though.

I got on the scene in time to see paramedics carrying Mike out of the building on a stretcher and a police officer carrying a dented aluminium bat.  Doug was already gone by that point, fled or hauled off by the cops.

So much for having Allison for lunch, huh?

Super Porno Suzy sat off to one side, screaming bloody blue murder and threatening Marian with fates worse than death, while the school counsellor spent more time talking to her recently emphasized rack than counselling, and a couple of cops tried to talk with Marian.  That was an even bigger waste of time than the Suzy-counsellor dialogue because Marian looked even worse off than Suzy, just in the other direction.  I couldn't get close enough to hear much over her blubbering, Suzy's death-threats, and the buzz of the other students, but I don't think she had expected Doug to go after Mike quite that seriously.  Jesus girl.  What did you expect?  Subtlety from a Neanderthal?

Think about it.  What's going to happen when you walk up to one of the school's leading dim-wits and say something like, "Hey, slave, I just got the fucking of my life, and I'm not sure I liked it or not.  So, I'd like you to put a hurt on Mike for me."

The answer's going to be, "Duh, OK!" served up with a supersized order of violence, since that's all the meatheads are good for, really.

I like to think that with the sort of power Mike had, I'd be a bit more subtle myself.  Being beaten nearly to death within fourteen hours of gaining nigh-infinite power's a pretty sad record.  Look at what he accomplished: He banged the hottest girl in the school, gave the smartest girl in the school a body that'd give Vida Guerra an inferiority complex, and what's the point of a foot-long dick?  Ninety percent of the girls you're going to meet aren't going to be able to take that sort of abuse, so why bother?

Why would you give yourself a dick too large to use properly and not give yourself enough muscle to be able to defend yourself against someone like Doug?  Clearly, Mike's theatrical bent kicked him in his balls.  Mike didn't think things all the way through, or he gave himself the super-dick first and it did all his thinking for him afterwards.  Maybe he'd be able to heal himself when he woke up.  If he woke up.



Half a class later, it was my turn to answer questions for the cops.

"What?  You kidding?  She practically jumped him!  Rape, my ass!"

"That's not what we've been hearing, kid--"

"Terry.  Listen.  Marian hated Mike's guts, that's fact, but this morning we walked into Miss Hendricks' history class a few minutes late, and the only person there was Marian.  No teacher, no other students, just Marian.  She did her usual ‘Eff off, Mike' routine, flashed some skin to keep him coming back for more abuse, and then, instead of slinking away, Mike dropped his pants."

"And raped Miss Gerstner."

"And Miss Gerstner dropped to her knees and gave him a blow job!  Marian could have kicked the crap out of Mike if she wanted to.  She's done it before.  There's no way it could have been rape."

"A girl, who you admit dislikes the suspect, suddenly does an about face and makes out with the suspect in a public place."

"Hey, I'm just telling you what I saw.  I don't believe it much either, but if you want weird, what about Suzy?"

"The young lady who was... with the suspect when he was found by the distraught boyfriend?"

Distraught boyfriend?  Oh shit, Mike's really in trouble.  "Nobody's pointed out the fact that she's..." I held my hands out as if I was cupping a pair of enormous breasts.

The cop just looked at me funny.  "Those are called breasts, son.  All girls have them."

Fuck! I almost screamed.  "Yesterday she didn't.  Or not like that anyway."

"No one mentioned spontaneous breast enlargement, and I think that Miss Prentice would have..."

And that's how I shot my interview and Mike's chances all to hell.  Nobody took me seriously after that.  Everyone knew Suzy had always been a complete sexpot, even Suzy, apparently and were so used to it that they hardly noticed it.  Everyone but me, that is.  For some reason, probably to be able to brag to someone, Mike excluded me from this denial of established fact.



I wasn't the only one to try and stand up for Mike.  Suzy had some very choice words for the cops and for Mr. D.F.  (Der Furher) Grant, the vice principle.  I could hear her yelling while I waited in the hall.  I knew where Mike and I stood in the school--right at the bottom.

Mike and I didn't fit in.  Our idea of fun consisted of messing with computers, reading, and acing exams.  Not that Mike ever did much studying.  He'd just look at a book and memorize the thing in time to slaughter tests.  I really hated the prick during exam times, but Mike was a genius when it came to applied stuff.  His imagination sucked, but if you gave him enough books and set him to a problem, it he solved it in nothing flat.  The only reason we were still virgins--or I was anyway; Mike seemed to have solved that problem, too--was we never found a good book on how to get laid.

The world needs some losers, but just you wait.  In high school, we're losers, but in the Information-based Economy of the "real world," nerds are kings.  All it takes is patience and a firm work ethic.

But Suzy never really figured it out.  She knew all about patience and work ethic--obviously, since our chess matches tended to split fifty-fifty--but she didn't think it was fair.  And this was a typical case: Future Homecoming Couple vs.  President of the Computer Club.  No one was listening to the nerds, even though Suzy fought tooth and nail.  I felt embarrassed listening to her haranguing Mr. Grant.  If I had the balls, I would have said what she spat out.  Probably with more swearing, though.

Even without what Mike did to her body, you had to love the girl--unless she was yelling at you.  I hated it when she opened fire on me, probably because she tended to be right.

If anyone was going to be messed up, it should have been Suzy.  Seriously.  New body, ass fucked by my best friend--a guy she thought was complete slacker--and now being treated like a bubble-headed blonde bimbo.  She seemed to come out OK, though.  Better than Marian, that's for sure.  Marian went basket case and spent half her time moaning about needing Mike and the other half cursing his name for not being there.

But Suzy... when Mr. Grant tried to send Suzy home to recover from the "trauma" she'd suffered, she not only stayed at school, but she told him to go to hell--literally--and joined her in-progress physics class.  That's Suzy all right.  Whatever Mike'd done to her body didn't seem to extend to her brain.  Or not much, anyway; there was still the matter of her merrily pushing double digits of cock into her ass earlier.  That wasn't very Suzy-like.  Or maybe it was, and that had been the first time she'd gotten to try it out.  I made a mental note to find out when I had a chance.



I'm not sure why I did it, but I let them drop the contents of my locker into evidence bags and haul it away.  No.  I lie.  I let them do it because I was mad as hell and couldn't wait until the found out they cleaned out the wrong locker.  Morons.  Fortunately I already had most of my notebooks in my bag and knew Mike's locker combination.  I cracked open locker 2-21-b to loot his physics book before I remembered: Mike took Chem instead.

No problem, I sat close to Suzy and leaned in close to share her book.  Holy shit, she has nice tits now.  I think I spent more time imagining those round mounds bouncing in counter-point to her perfect ass squeezing all of the cum out of my balls than I did taking notes.  As you can see, I'd picked up a serious anal fixation, and it's all Mike's fault, the bastard.  But holy shit, Suzy has a nice ass these days.

[Nab]

This Still Can't Be Happening At Hübsches-Mädchen High
Also by someone


"You saw Marian Gerster nude?"

"No, man, I just saw her sucking Mike off," I told Darren, trying to be nonchalant despite my brains being scrambled.

"Dude!  Was she good?"

This time I had more of my wits gathered.  "How the hell should I know?  She was sucking Mike, not me."

"So?  Did it look good?"

"Mike looked like he was enjoying it, but Mike'd cream over a kiss from Marian.  Gimme Suzy anyday."

"Suzy?" Darren looked at me, incredulous.  "Are you kidding?  She's the teenage mutant battle bitch."

I couldn't believe it.  Suzy had a body that could burn the cover off a Penthouse magazine, and not even a porn freak like Darren realized it.  She was just plain-old-just-north-of-ugly-Suzy to everyone but me.  This might sound stupid, but I kind of liked it.  It meant I had her all to myself.  She was the hottest chick on the planet, and I was the only person who knew it?  Fuck yeah!  I liked those odds.

"What I'd really like to see, though," Darren continued, "is Lacey naked and waiting for me in class."

"Pffft.  Lacey...  riiiiight.  Marian wasn't naked, Darren." I lifted Mike's backpack off his biology text.  Mike must have had his copy of Fred and FH in his bag, because the damn thing was heavy.  That or he had some extra text books.  That was definitely not a Mike thing to do.  "Not at first anyway."

"So?  If Marian can suddenly go nuts and screw Mike, then Lacey could show up in biology, buck naked.  I'd say the odds are about the same."

"Oh yeah, sure.  Lacey just loves to go to class nude.  Why not?  In your mind she's naked, so why not in reality?"

"Hey, it could happen," laughed Darren.  "NOT!"

"Dude, that was so nineties."


Change of pace

So, I was walking down the hall to biology when suddenly I shivered.  It wasn't an "I'm cold" type of shiver; it was more the type you get when people are talking about you behind your back or something really, really bad is about to happen.

And it did.  The bad thing happening, that is.

Too tight.  My clothes were too tight.  All of them.  All of a sudden, nothing fit right.  My skirt was too tight, my panties chaffed, my bra dug in, and my shirt was driving me completely crazy.  It only took seconds to go from comfortable and cute to scratching like mad and wanting to dash to the washroom and stripping naked.

But I didn't.  I stripped in the hall.  I couldn't help it.  I just had to get my clothes off.

It wasn't a sexy, leisurely strip; I frantically tore my clothes off.  I just had to get them off my body before they drove me insane.  Rationality aside, I knew I'd be more comfortable nude.  That's mental, I know.  Me, the girl who turns red in a bikini, getting completely naked like it was natural for me to walk into biology class with nothing on.  I swear, if I could have gotten that goofy smile off my face, I would have been screaming.

It was kinda hot, though.  Everyone watched.  A lot of guys looked normally, but now everyone looked.  I went totally red, and no sooner did I have everything off, than I could think again.  Guys, girls, teachers...  ick.  Even the janitor.  Worse, Darren Tyrcho stared at me through the open door, and I could just tell he wanted more than just the TnA I had on display.  Super ick.  Ruben Carter was cute though, and I sure had his attention for a change.  Not quite the attention I wanted, but you'd have a hard time telling my renegade body that.  It caught on fire.

While I told my legs to run away or at least towards Ruben, they walked calmly into the class, over to my bench and hopped me up onto my regular  stool.  Right beside my perverted lab partner, Darren.  Who else would it be?  At least my out-of-control body still had the modesty to cross my legs and stay as far away from Darren as possible.  I mean Daren could at least have the courtesy to stare at my breasts like everyone else.  I can't believe I took it so calmly, but I guess with the body enjoying it so much, there really wasn't much for the brain to complain about.

The other girls though...  Well, Kimberly Baker complained first.

"Uh, Lacey?" oozed her usual sweetened venom.  "Like, don't you think maybe you should...  you know?"

"No, Kimberly," I said saucily, trying to cover for my current state.  "I don't know." Ohmigod.  In desperation, I was back talking Kimberly--the queen of the jungle gym, mistress of cheerleaders, and goddess of the social order--Baker.  I just mouthed off a complete bitch who'd stop at nothing to make my life complete hell.  Then to make things worse, I leaned forward, kissed her right on her full, red lips, and said, "Why don't you tell me?"

OK, so not only was I naked, but I was showing a lot more backbone than normal and why not?  I was walking around (well, sitting there now) nude, for crying out loud.  Maybe it was because I really didn't have much left to lose.  I mean, really.  I was sitting in class completely naked.  What was she going to do?  Embarrass me?  After this, I'd like to see her try.  Besides, I always did like her lips; when she showed it, Kim had a very sexy smile.

"Having fun?" asked Mrs. Lostiral when she walked into the class from the lab storage room.

"Uhm." I went red again, for a couple of reasons.  Darren shifted his stool over closer, yuck, and Ruben was peering through the window slit in the door, watching me nibbling on the shocked cheerleader's upper lip.  Yum.  "Uh, yes, actually."

"Well, that is good to hear," Mrs. Lostiral said blandly.  "And I am glad to see that you certainly have no self-esteem problems, but we do have a dress code at here at Hübsches-Mädchen high.  One which you have--quite creatively, I must say--violated in spirit, if not in fact.  Your skirt is not too short, nor is your blouse too daringly cut, so I suppose a modestly skilled lawyer could successfully plead your case; however, if you would be so good as to leave the room and go to the office?  I'll leave it up to you to decide whether or not you should dress before you see Mr Grant."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied meekly and got up.

Ruben was outside still, and he had my clothes.  He was a bit clingy when it came to the panties, so I let him keep them in return for Saturday night at Charlie Don't Surf.  Mr Grant wouldn't mind, considering he had much better things to bust me for than going pantiless.

"Uh.  I uh saw Kim sort of...  uhm hassling you.  I could--"

"Oh Pulease!  I was just naked," I said, walking past the row of lockers on the way to the stairs.  "According to what I hear, Kimberly and her gang of cheerleader bimbos sucked off the basketball team when they beat Carter.  So what can she--"

Ruben stopped dead and looked funny for a moment, and then I realized that he was on the basketball team.  Holy faux-p!

"Yeah," he said dreamily after blinking a few times.  "She's a complete cumslut.  I swear she came when I gave her a facial.  She'll suck off anyone, but she can't resist a winner."

"You mean that was for real?  The cheerleaders have bisexual orgies and everything?"

"Oh.  I don't know about that part.  I wasn't invited to any of those.  Kimberly must reserve the orgies for the football team.  Hey, since I'm not going to tonight's orgy, will you go out with me?"

I froze.  "Are you kidding?  You actually want to go out with a girl who can't keep her clothes on for more than two seconds?  You better watch out.  I've already become a nudist; I could become a sex crazed slut next."

"Kidding?  Hell n-- Now what's wrong?"

"Too tight!" I gasped, wrenching my shirt open and sending buttons flying.



Change of pace

So, like I sat in biology beside that loser Calvin wondering how I much I could make Lacey pay for trying to show me up, without getting myself kicked out of school or off the dance squad, when I felt this weird shiver.  Like, someone was talking about me behind my back.  It was nothing, probably just some jealous bitches whining about me again.  Molly O'Reily probably, since I spent part of the weekend showing her guy what he was missing with a loser like her.  Waste of time really, he wasn't nearly big enough to satisfy me.

I had operation: Lacey Vengeance narrowed down to a couple options, but really, what could I do to embarrass a girl who'd walk into class completely naked, smiling and joking about it?  I had to do something, though; my rep was on the line.

That's the problem about being the most popular girl in the school (and I definitely had that sewn up now that the Gerstner bitch was out of the way), you have to keep fighting because there's always another girl who wants the title.  Best to cut them down before they could get rolling, so Lacey had to go, like, right-fucking-now.

Anyway, I had it narrowed down to a couple of options when Mrs Loser-all announced that we had a, yawn, celebrity in our midst.  My nerd lab partner, Calvin won some sort of national science prize.

My mouth just started to water.

"Calvin..." I moaned.  I actually moaned.  I never moan.  I make guys moan.  Like, that's what makes it so fun, their brains going all mushy.  It's a control thing.

But visions of Calvin, hard and thrusting into my mouth (Where did these come from?  Like I knew what his dick looked like), danced in front of my eyes, teasing me, like, relentlessly.

"Calvin, how would you like a reward?" I had to.  I fuckin' had to.  The little brainiac would taste so good pumping white goodness into my mouth.  Science award, nothing.  He was going to win the "Made Kimberly Baker have a screaming orgasm" award.  God, the way I felt, maybe he'd earn two or three.  Thank God he was so light.  I lifted him off his stool, laid him on the table, and started to tear into those fucking stupid suspenders he wore.

"Holy shit!" someone yelled and I felt someone grab my arm, but I jerked it free.  Terry de Havilland, the dumb shit, was actually trying to stop me.  What happened to his buddy Mike was nothing compared to what I could have done.  "Fuck off Terry.  He's mine.  You know I only do winners, so you just fuck right off."

But Terry was there.  And so were a bunch of other people and...  oh fuck!  I was still in class!  Nerdy Calvin lay pinned to the table, held in place by one of my hands while the other returned to ripping his pants off.  Calvin?

I looked down at the table.  My little science prize winner had squirmed out of my grip and fell to the floor.

"You little fuck!" I screamed, pulling myself out of Terry's grip again, but this time Dexter helped him out.

"You stupid fucks!" I fought against Dex, but he wasn't the same sort of pantywaist as Terry.  Dex was more my style: big and meaty.  I tried to fuck him once, but he wouldn't play along, the idiot.  Calvin scrambled crab walking across the floor, that prize winning dick bobbing between his legs.  "Let me have him!  I'll have that flaccid piece of shit between his legs looking like a winner in no time!  Please let go!  I'll suck you off next, Dex!  Please!"

I wrapped around the muscle bound jackass, he shouldn't have been in this class anyway.  Biology was for nerds--except for me, of course--and jock didn't come close to describing Dexter.  In fact--omigod--Dex was the reigning weightlifting champ.

"Oh, screw Calvin!" I yelled, wrapping around the jackpot.  "I'll blow you later, so don't you take off, you runt.

"Hey, Mr. power lifting champ," I said pressing into my new target.  "I'll blow your mind right now.  I bet you have something big and muscular for me in those pants."



Change of pace

We got her calmed down eventually.  Actually, when she got Dexter's pants open she started to have and asthma fit.  Too much excitement for her I guess.  Or maybe it was her reaction to remembering that I was the school's chess co-champion.  Hard to say, but man, Mike has a fucked up sense of humour.

Kimberly, Lacey, Suzy, Marian, and God knows what other girls he'd messed up.  Mike really got around with his super powers before Doug took him out.  The class had been pretty much permanently disrupted, so Mrs. Lostiral called it a day, turned the whole mess over to Der Fuhrer, and shut the class down.  We'd pay for it later though.  She never forgave or forgot, so Monday's homework was going to be brutal.

On the way by, I got an evil look from Der Fuhrer.  "Trouble seems to be following you around today, de Havilland."

Not much I could say to that, so I didn't say anything.  I just got out of his way while the getting was good and met up with a broadly grinning Darren back at my locker.

"Don't say it, Darren."

"Not going to say a thing, but you should have let Kim at Nerdly.  Probably the closest he'll ever get to a real woman."

"Yeah.  The head cheerleader and the number one brain really should get together," I said, dripping sarcasm.  "They'd make a great couple--add them both together and you'd get two normal people."

"I can see it now," joked Darren as we reached my, Mike's, locker.  "Kim and Calvin, the devoted prom king and queen, live happily ever after in a haze of love and passionate sex.  You know who I want to see in total fuck-lust, though."

"Lacey."

"Bingo.  Terry, she came to class naked.  Just like we wanted."

"Just like you wanted.  Forget about it Darren." No way was I going to let an idiot like Darren know about Mike.

"Forget?  You have any idea how much I'd give to see that?"

"Again?"

"Again?  Hell, just once."

I looked at him cockeyed and spoke my mind.  "You're a freak, Darren."

"I'm a freak in love, dude.  Lacey's just so..." His face screwed up completely.  "She's so quiet and cute.  How could anyone not lose their heart?"

"Oh Pulease!" said Suzy, sidling up.  "Give it up Darren.  Grant caught her and Ruben going at it like animals in the main stairwell half an hour ago.  Lacey's a total slut.  She'd do you in front of an audience if you just asked her nicely.  She'd do anyone if they asked.

"She's just a little wild, Suzy," protested Darren.  "And need I remind you how you spent the morning?"

"Oh, that was just Mike.  We all take turns with Mike."

"I thought you really didn't like Mike, Suzy?" I asked her.

"Like has nothing to so with it," she said resignedly.  "I accidentally walked in on him and Marian and Bam!  No girl can resist that cock of his.  It's totally unfair the way he takes advantage of us, but that's life."

She winked at me and grinned.  "At least it's fun."

OK, well I guess that explained that.  She walked in and got caught in the trap Mike'd laid for Marian.  Mike did something to his cock, I'd already seen that, and I guess he figured that if Suzy was going to throw herself at him, he might as well make it worth his time.  I had no idea what he'd done to Lacey, but obviously Mike had been on a tear before Doug caught up with him.

"Ooooh!" sighed Darren.  "Lacey at five o'clock.  God, I love that girl.  Catch you later, Terry."

I looked over at the topless girl striding through the hallway, waved off Darren, swapped what I had for the stuff I needed for the last period, and then I saw something that gave me the first inklings that all of the weird shit wasn't entirely Mike's legacy.

"Why'd we take so long to realize this, Calvin?"

"I-I don't know, Kimberly.  I always thought it's just--" The duo clenched in a grip so tight that the Jaws of Life would be unable to separate them and the conversation disappeared into gasps and moans.

"I'll see you after class, Kimberly."

"Kim." She laid a scorching kiss on him.  "Oh!  Oh no!  I'm sooo sorry, I'll quit the dance squad right away.  If we're going to be--like, you know--together an everything, I wouldn't feel right in the after-school football team orgies and, like, no way am I sharing you with the rest of the girls."

"I swear," said Suzy, trying to disguise her amusement with disgust.  "Some of the girls in this school are complete sluts."

[Nab]

YES SPELLIN COUNTS, AN UNFORTUNITLY TRUE STORY BY ME


So of coarse I was totally wacked when this guy appeers out of thin air in the crapper. I meen one minit Im gruntin and pooping a big log in the stall and wipin my ass in privicy like we all want and ecxpect and then poof, theres this totilly weerd looking little guy staring me in my face and he says“youv been chosin” or sumthing like that!

I say “what the fuck”  and Im about to smack him with the toilit paper in my hand (yuck what a welcum to our planit greeting that wuld have neen)  but he tells me not to be afrade, I was selectd at cumpleetly at randum and they are goin to moniter me from a ufo or sumthing and heer, heers this little devis that looks like a little like a sell fone with a twisty antenner coming out of it, you can point it at anywun you want and altar there mind or body and make them do anything you want, just tipe a command on the keybored and point it at yur subjjec its set fer yore languig we thot of evrything.

I say “who are you” and “are you fukin crazy” and “why are you so small” , I meen wouldn’t you ask questuns too if sumthing like that happnd to you

He say “We study humin behavure and secrit dezirs an good luck an then he  just disapeers as fast as he wuz there in the first place and im alone in the crapper agin, the only diffrence is thqat now I have this sellfone thingy with the weerd antenner so I no it all reely happend.

Im thinkin why me? how cum a Marshun is gonna sho up and giv me sum kind of present when Im takin a crap of all things, plus anywun with any branes nows that Im not the bestest repersentive of the humin race anyways, im allsuper  ultra Adeedee like there always telling me I meen hell I flunkd so many grades that Im probly responisbl for the no childs getting a behind program all by myself, at leest that’s what my mom is alwaze saying.

So no im not reel smart not even close an im not to prowd to admit it, you can see that rite now as im riting my story heer. I also want to say that I no you don’t beleev this story is reel but I don’t care beleev wat you want, im jus writin it like it happen, im not smart but Im not a lyer, I said it waz a true story in the titel and I mend it. Anyway im pretty dence but or slow or watever you want to call it but im not totly stupid ether, I got this aleun devis in my hand an I understud every word the little guy waz sayin even tho I waz busy wipin my ass an I culdnt hardly beleev he waz ther.

I flush the toilit an thers this other guy washin his hands at the sink an I think I going to see if this thing werks an so I point it at him and I tipe in BEET YoUR MEAT an suddenly the guys expreshin gets totaly strange an he wakls out reel fast an I loose track of him.

Well I don’t know wat to think, he didn’t beet his meat as far as I could see. I also thinking its funny the first thin I want sumbody to do is all sexial, maybe I shuld say something about thatfor yor benifit. I don’t likeguys like that Im not gays, he waz just the first person I seen(it was the mens room rite?), I reely like girls an I think about them all the time and beet MY meat espeshully when I see a reely pretty one, Im not to prowd to say that ether. I like girls a lot an of corse its in my hed from the very beginning that I gonna find a pretty one an make her do majic sexial thinks, mabee to herself or mabee me first, that is if this devis isn’t a totol dud.

Im at these shops sort of a mall neer the Baltimore aqarium, maybee I shuld have say that at the beginning of this story only I waz in the crapper then an it seemd funny to locate the crapper so specificly at the very beginning of my story, in fact how many storys begin in the crapper I bet this the first one. You can emale me an let me no if therz another I wuldnt mind reeding it to compare.

So back to my tail, im out in these shops an outsid thers this big sidewalk place an peeple an turists all round an then the water and big ships an stuff. Its a pretty day an warm an  I see this won girl mabee still in hi skool but probiby collige an shes got a reely grate body, waring shorts and a tshirt an I reely like her legs, she makes me think all sexial in about to secondsof corse.

I thinking that mabee on my first try I  waz not exact enuff, this devis not used to humans yet so I gotta tipe in specfific commands or itwill not reely no wat I want, I meen beet meat is an expresshun, its not like saying PUT YUR HAND ON YUR DICK AN MAKE IT HARD AN PLAY WITH IT UNTIL YOU CUM or sumthing like that. The little screen not bid enuff for that specific a command anyways so there must be middle ground.

Okay, so I point it at the pretty girl an I tipe in YOU MUST HAVE SEAMAN NOW , just to see if that make a diffrence, that pretty specific languige. I not even the clozest  guy there so mabee she not need my seaman but anuthers, thats ok I can at leest see if it works.

Licketysplit the pretty girl runs and jump off the sidewalk over the raling and she splashes in the water an is swimming in direcshun of a parked ship on other side of the harber, an Im thinkin wat the fuck? There many guys with seaman much nearer, why she swim allthe  way over there?

Peeple jump in the harber to save the girl an I walk away all confused cuz the thing werks, it make peepl do thins just not anythinglike Im tryin to tell it. Mabee its softwear not likes humins or mabee the little man shuld hav left me a instrucshun manuel, Im not getting hang of this thing but I gotta say Im also pretty exsited too , my dick all hard an I meen reely hard I think becaaz I seen that the thing has power even tho its all not working out rite yet.

An look,lets get this cleer rite heer,  its not fare if your ther reeding this an juging me about my sexial thots an hard dik ether,  I was just doing my busness for gods sake but wen the guy showd up I immediettly wanted majic sex an face it you wuld to, Im not so different thnan you - if you reedin this,its proof you come to this site an you want majic sex just like me an mite think the exact  same thinks I do, you cum here and reed things like this just becaas your all full of sexial thinking to, even you girls hooo lick girls, you reed these storys an if its  not  your thing you wish it was becaas your so sexial  an you love orgazmums. I just want to get that all strate ok, now back to the story

So I start to wunder about the other thing he tell me,the little man, that it can change bodys to. Mabee I do not have to look for a reely pretty girl to think sexial, maybe I find a reel dog an turn her into a swan like in that tv show only I do it in like to seconds.

If it werks that is, im not having such grate luck yet. I go back insid the mall area an theres all kinds of food places lots of seefood and crabs, its Baltimore like I sad. I follow a cuple of older plane girls an Im trying to think of wat I shuld do to there bodys an it just dosnt turn me on I have to say, its hard to think sexial wen you don’t reely feel it. I go sit at this food tabel an Im starting to dout myself but then I see this reely cute girl eeting a burger at anuther tabel an I meen shes gorguse, grate l ong  hare and super legs an pretty much all I cud ever want exept shes flat like a bored, not small that’s ok, I meen reely pretty flat, her tits barly there.

Ok, shes small an I need to start small I thinks, an you know exactly wat im gonna do next an yur rite. I tipe in MAKE HER TITS GROW an I point the thing at her and wate. Shes eeting and even lloks over at me a cuple of times, an Im staring at her tits without bein to obvius about it I hope. I heer her stomak growel and she looks down at herself, an I’m looking to but I see no diffrence in her tits. Her stomak growels reely loud an she screems an looks down at her body like theres sumthin goin reely rong. She screems agin and runs out of the place an once agin I’m stumpt, what happned and why?

I get this bad feelin that mabee the aliuns like jokin arownd with humins, thats why they give the devis to  a embacil  imbicycle (crap I no I cant spel this word rite it s a big one, pleez fergiv me I told you Im not smart and anywaythis is the hole point of the story as if you hadn’t workd that out yet so keep it in mind). Anyways mabee they givethe  devis to somewun like me to begin with not so randim like the guy said, an mabee they must no I think sexial a lot an thats exactly what they want to see happin if they give somewun like me a powerfull devis to begin with. Logcal, commen senses, I got them even tho Im allsuper  Adeedee an stuff.

I take the devis to another tabel ware this old guy is reeding a peper, an I say “hey, can you reed tis an tell me wat it says” Hes kindof throne off for a minit but then he looks and says “Make her tits growl?”

Well fukinshit, now I know whats up, its me an my stupid brane, I made the girls tits growl with my inatenshun and pour spelling. So mabee its all a joke anthey want I make kaoss all over Baltimor becuz thats there plan all a long. An I not want to blow up Baltimore by misteak. Yur surprizd Im that practicicl arnt you, you thot Id just go off an do umpteen stupid things without evn condsidring that I culd hurt lots of peeple. Mabee if it wus just a ficshunal story, id rampage al over the place an turn all the cute girls into horse an make all of the guys dikes as big as trees, but Im ultra Adeedee not an idiut, an I waz certin that Id just blo everthing up or kill somewon if I kept goin the way I waz going.. Anyway this is a tru storyan you havnt red about Baltimor blowing up in the paper have you so it didn happin andso this is what I did insted..

Ive seen tv shows ware the guy trys out a thing on hisself first to test it ( you kno,like a cure or a vaksine or whatever, an that’s wat I did next. I ask this guy reeding his paper how do you spel brilliant, an you see rite there brilliant brilliant brlliant, see he showd me how an so its rite isn’t it, not bad thinking huh. So I walk back out onto the big side walk an find a place whare I can be all alonekind of an I tipe in MAKE ME BRILLIANT and point the antenner at my own hed.

What you think happen next? Got you wundering, huh. Well I didn’t feel any diffrent, no smarter or nothing, it didn’t work agin but why not I no the spellings rite they old guy helpd me. Then I see people staring at me like Im the aliun now an I don’t know why until I see my reflecshun in a door. My heds all glowing brite like I got a litebulb for branes and I say dammit!, not agin! All I wanted is majik sex to begin with an insted Iv fuked up a cupple of people sumhow and turned my own hed into afucking lamp!

Well so I ran and I meen I ran fast befor they sent the cops but how do you hid when yur head mite as well be a lite saber, evrywon is staring. I think quik an Im back in anuther crapper hiding,a nd panting from running an I see that this majic mine contol sytuff isn’t so eesy like they rite in the sorys here an that’s wat Im tryin to tell you.

PAY ATTENSHUN TO MY STORY OK BECAZ IT CULD SAVE YOU A HELLUV A LOT OF TRUBLE SUMDAY IF YOU EVER GET MINE CONTROL powrs ok, it isnt so slik AN SIMPEl like the riters want you to think hee!!!!!

So now you think the story is ovr becaz I just rote the morel for you and the morel alwaze cums at the end.  but it isn’t over I hadn’t godden my majic sex an I reely wanted my majic sex, I meen why hav some aliun dood visit you on the crapper if you never get the majic sex that wuld be so lame.

I had privacy now an probubly shuld have dun that to begin with. But I no I have to be so carful now, the devis wuld probibly turn a girl into a devil if i say MAKE HER HORNEY and so I tiped in lots of commans on myself  knowig I going to hhav to untipe lots of scrude up commnds an some of them wer MAKE ME LOOK LIKE TOM CRUZE or MAKE MY DICK AS LONG AS A SNACK and MAKE ME SO I DON’T EVEN NEED THIS GISMO I CAN JUST MAKE A PRETTY GIRL CUM BY BATTERING MY EYES AT HER and MAKE IT SO REELY PRETTY GIRLS GO ALL WEEK ON THERE NEES WEN THEY SEE ME and lots of othr things like that.You get the ideas I wanted sexial powrs of my one with or with ot the aliun devis, yud probably think of the same thinks.

Well let me tell yu I waz lucky to just be abel to leeve that stall with the same crapping ass  that I went in with. I got Tom cruzes hed now but it dont look like the won in the magisines but its better then the won I had befor and espeshilly the glowing one so thats ok.

So whare do things stand now? Sumhow it workd out that girls go nuts when I slap my own face wen we fukingan they just loose it when I say the word Beefer a bunch of times an Im not lyin when I say I hav no ideas ware that one cum from, I don’t remmber riting beefer at all.

Cant complane tho,even tho I call this story an unforotunit won, I gess thatis all a madder of perspectiv. I left Baltimor an my old life an I still got the devis an I still wunder if there up there lookin down on me  an wat they think.

I hav grate sex now lots of grate sex even tho its strang an I want to say that I foun a way to use the devis to rob banks for mony but that wuld be illeegle rite? so I better not say it. Its just a joke. An this is the joke thred rite, so my storyis definitly in ther rite place.

Altho one last think – Boobwite wanted eroticks in this thred an I no thisduz  not have to much just implide . So heer just to make shoor- oh she says, say Beefer agin it makes me so hot an I thing Im gonna have my pussey blow up so much juicy juce an oh oh yes yes more more I kin nevr get enuff I lick sex oh ohhhAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Thare I no that’s cheeting so agin forgiv me but Im kind privit at hart about the sexiual stuff even tho Im riting this. Also the aliuns sayd thay were study secrit dezirs an so I better keep sum secrit rite?

O an another last think – I workin on absorbing as much of the devis power as I can with out bloing evrythink up an wen Im thru with it I gonna put it on ebay if thay let me altho I don’t know wat categorry yet, I culd use some advis. Look for it, it be better for you for shur if yur smarterer an im shur you arebut Im still happy anyway.

Buy now that’s my story I hope you lickd it.

[Nab]

YES SPELLING COUNTS, AN UNFORTUNATELY TRUE STORY- THE NEW SPELL CHICK VERSION AND IT’S ALSO BY ME


OKAY HEAR WE GO AGAIN. I READ THE COMMENTS BY FLIBINITE AND IT BECOMES CLEAR THAT I BETTER USE SPELL CHICK OR MY STORY IS WAY TO HARD TO READ (A TANGENT QUESTION: WHAT IS FLIBINITE ANYWAYS, IT REMINDS ME OF KRYPTONITE, YOU KNOW THE STUFF THAT MAKES SUPERMAN’S PECKER GO LIMP SO MAYBE FLIBINITE IS SOMETHING LIKE THAT BUT FOR SUPERGIRL? –YOU E MALE ME IF YOU KNOW THE ANSWER) ANYWAYS THE HOLE POINT IS THAT NOW I PUT MY STORY THROUGH A SPELL CHICK AN SO THIS VERSION IS MUCH EASIER TO READ. WHY I DIDN’T THINK OF THAT BEFORE? SO THANKS FOR THE FEED BACK FLIBINITE, SEE THAT IS GOOD CRITICIZING AND IT MAKES A DIFFERENCE. I MADE AN EXTRA EFFORT HERE, ITS PART OF A SELF HELP THING I’M TRYING TO DO SO DON’T FEEL SORRY FOR ME. I MADE A COUPLE OTHER CHANGES TO THE STORY WHILE I SPELL CHICK IT AND I THINK THIS VERSION NOW IS A BETTER STORY ALTHOUGH IT IS STILL TRUE, I ADD DETAIL IN A PLACE NEAR THE END (SO FLIBINITE YOU JUST READ END AGAIN IF YOU WANT, OK). SORRY ANYBODY ELSE IF YOU READ THE HARD VERSION BEFORE, OH WELL, IGNORE IT IF YOU NOT READ IT YET AND READ THIS INSTEAD.

AND NOW THE STORY:


So of coarse I was totally whacked when this guy appears out of thin air in the crapper. I mean one minute I’m grunting and pooping a big log in the stall and wiping my ass in privacy like we all want and expect and then poof, there’s this totally weird looking little guy staring me in my face and he says “you’ve been chosen” or something like that!

I say “what the fuck” , and I’m about to smack him with the toilet paper in my hand (yuck what a welcome to our planet greeting that wood have been)  but he tells me not to be afraid, I was selected at complete random and they are going to monitor me from a UFO or something and here, here is this little device that looks like a little like a sell phone with a twisty antenna coming out of it, you can point it at anyone you want and altar there mind or body and make them do anything you want, just type a command on the key board and point it at your subject its set for your language, see we thought of everything.

I say “who are you” and “are you fucking crazy” and “why are you so small” , I mean wouldn’t you ask questions too if something like that happened to you.

He say “We study human behavior and secret desires an good luck an then he just disappears as fast as he was there in the first place and I’m alone in the crapper again, the only difference is that now I have this sell phone thingy with the weird antenna so I no it all really happened.

I’m thinking why me? How cum a Martian is going to show up and give me sum kind of present when I’m taking a crap of all things, plus anyone with any brains knows that I’m not the best representative of the human race anyways, I’m all super ultra Adeedee (spell chick not help on this word sorry) like there always telling me I mean hell I flunked so many grades that I’m probably responsible for the no child getting a behind program all by myself, at least that’s what my mom is always saying.

So no I’m not reel smart not even close an I’m not to proud to admit it, you can see that rite now as I’m writing my story here. I also want to say that I no you don’t believe this story is reel but I don’t care, believe what you want, I’m jusT writing it like it happen, I’m not smart but I’m not a liar, I said it was a true story in the title and I mend it. Anyway I’m pretty dense but or slow or whatever you want to call it but I’m not totally stupid ether, I got this alien device in my hand an I understood every word the little guy was saying even though I was busy wiping my ass an I couldn’t hardly believe he was there.

I flush the toilet an there’s this other guy washing his hands at the sink an I think I going to see if this thing works an so I point it at him and I type in BEET YOUR MEAT an suddenly the guys expression gets totally strange an he walks out reel fast an I loose track of him.

Well I don’t know what to think, he didn’t beet his meat as far as I could see. I also thinking its funny the first think I want somebody to do is all sexual, maybe I should say something about that for your benefit. I don’t like guys like that, I’m not gays, he was just the first person I seen (it was the men’s room rite?), I really like girls an I think about them all the time and beet MY meat especially when I see a really pretty one, I’m not to proud to say that ether. I like girls a lot an of coarse its in my head from the very beginning that I gone to find a pretty one an make her do magic sexual thinks, maybe to herself or maybe me first, that is if this device isn’t a total dud.

I’m at these shops sort of a mall near the Baltimore aquarium, maybe I should have say that at the beginning of this story only I was in the crapper then an it seemed funny to locate the crapper so specifically at the very beginning of my story, in fact how many stories begin in the crapper I bet this the first one. You can e male me an let me no if there is another I wouldn’t mind reading it to compare.

So back to my tail, I’m out in these shops an outside theirs this big sidewalk place an people an tourists all round an then the water and big ships an stuff. Its a pretty day an warm and  I see this won girl maybe still in hi school but probably college an she’s got a really grate body, wearing shorts and a t-shirt an I really like her legs, she makes me think all sexual in about to seconds of coarse.

I thinking that maybe on my first try I was not exact enough, this device not used to humans yet so I got to type in specific commands or it will not really no what I want, I mean beet meat is an expression, its not like saying PUT YOUR HAND ON YOUR DICK AN MAKE IT HARD AN PLAY WITH IT UNTIL YOU CUM or something like that. The little screen not bid enough for that specific a command anyways so there must be middle ground.

Okay, so I point it at the pretty girl an I type in YOU MUST HAVE SEAMAN NOW , just to see if that make a difference, that pretty specific language. I not even the closest  guy there so maybe she not need my seaman but another’s, that’s ok I can at least see if it works.

Licketty split the pretty girl runs and jump off the sidewalk over the railing and she splashes in the water and is swimming in direction of a parked ship on other side of the harbor, an I’m thinking what the fuck? There many guys with seaman much nearer, why she swim all the way over there?

People jump in the harbor to save the girl an I walk away all confused cause the thing works, it make people do thins just not anything like I’m trying to tell it. Maybe its soft wear not likes humans or maybe the little man should have left me a instruction manual, I’m not getting hang of this thing but I got to say I’m also pretty excited to , my dick all hard an I mean really hard I think because I seen that the thing has power even though its all not working out rite yet.

And look, lets get this clear rite here, its not fare if your there reading this an judging me about my sexual thoughts an hard dike ether, I was just doing my business for gods sake but when the guy showed up I immediately wanted magic sex an face it you would to, I’m not so different than you - if you reading this, its proof you come to this site an you want magic sex just like me an mite think the exact same things I do, you cum here and reed things like this just because your all full of sexual thinking to, even you girls who lick girls, you reed these stories an if its not your thing you wish it was because your so sexual  an you love orgasm. I just want to get that all straight ok, now back to the story

So I start to wonder about the other thing he tells me, the little man, that it can change bodies to. Maybe I do not have to look for a really pretty girl to think sexual, maybe I find a reel dog an turn her into a swan like in that TV show only I do it in like to seconds.

If it works that is, I’m not having such grate luck yet. I go back inside the mall area an there’s all kinds of food places lots of seafood and crabs, its Baltimore like I sad. I follow a couple of older plane girls an I’m trying to think of what I should do to there bodies an it just doesn’t turn me on I have to say, its hard to think sexual when you don’t really feel it. I go sit at this food table an I’m starting to doubt myself but then I see this really cute girl eating a burger at another table an I mean she’s gorgeous, grate long hare and super legs an pretty much all I could ever want except she’s flat like a bored, not small that’s ok, I mean really pretty flat, her tits barely there.

Ok, she’s small an I need to start small I thinks, and you know exactly what I’m going to do next an your rite. I type in MAKE HER TITS GROW and I point the thing at her and wait. She’s eating and even looks over at me a couple of times, and I get so hard, you see I like grow-tits stories an here I am living in one if this works an so it makes me so hard lick I said. I’m staring at her tits without being to obvious about it I hope. I haer her stomach growl and she looks down at herself, an I’m looking to but I see no difference in her tits. Her stomach growls really loud an she screams and looks down at her body like there is something going really wrong. She screams again and runs out of the place an once again I’m stump, what happened and why?

I get this bad feeling that maybe the aliens like joking around with humans, that’s why they give the device to a embacilla  imbicycle (crap, see even with spell chick I can’t do this word, the computer not even know what I wants, and anyway this is the hole point of the story as if you hadn’t worked that out yet so keep it in mind). Anyways maybe they give the device to someone like me to begin with not so random like the guy said, an maybe they must no I think sexual a lot an that’s exactly what they want to see happen all over the place. I got some common senses, see, even if I’m all Adeedee an stuff.

I take the device to another table where this old guy is reading a paper, an I say “hey, can you reed this an tell me what it says?”  He’s kind of throne off for a minute but then he looks and reeds it and says “Make her tits growl?”

Well fukingshit, now I know what’s up, its me an my stupid brain, I made the girls tits growl with my inattention and pour spelling. So maybe its all a joke and they want I make chaos all over Baltimore because that’s there plan all a long. And I not want to blow up Baltimore by mistake, I know about irony an what it mean, my mother says me even being born is irony and so I know all about that. And destroying Baltimore for sex fun is irony and I do not want that. Your surprised I’m that practical, aren’t you, you thought Id just go off an do umpteen stupid things without even considering that I could hurt lots of people. Maybe if this was just a fiction story, id rampage all over the place an turn all the cute girls into horse an make all of the guys dikes as big as trees, but I’m ultra Adeedee not a idiot, an I was certain that Id just blow everything up or kill someone if I kept going the way I was going. Anyway this is a true story and you haven’t read about Baltimore blowing up in the paper have you? so it didn’t happen and so this is what I did instead.

I’ve seen TV shows ware the guy tries out a thing on himself first to test it (you know, like a cure or a vaccine or cure or whatever, an that’s what I did next. I ask this guy reading his paper how do you spell brilliant, and he even writes it on a peace of paper for me. So I walk back out onto the big sidewalk and find a place where I can be all alone kind of and I type in MAKE ME BRILLIANT and point the antenna at my own head.

What you think happen next? Got you wondering, huh? Big suspense story here. Well I didn’t feel any different, no smarter or nothing, it didn’t work again but why not I no the spellings rite because the old guy helped me! Then I see people staring at me like I’m the alien now and I don’t know why until I see my reflection in a door. My heads all glowing bright like I got a light bulb for brains and I say dammit!, not again! All I wanted is magic sex to begin with an instead I’ve fucked up a couple of people somehow and turned my own head into a fucking lamp!

Well so I ran, what else is there to do? I ran fast before they send the cops but how do you hid when your head mite as well be a light saber? Everyone is staring. I think quick an I’m back in another crapper hiding and panting from running so hard. And I see that this magic mine control stuff isn’t so easy like they rite in the stories here an that’s what I’m trying to tell you.

PAY ATTENTION TO MY STORY OK? BECAUSE IT COULD SAVE YOU A HELLUV A LOT OF TROUBLE SOMEDAY IF YOU EVER GET MINE CONTROL POWERS!!! Ok, I not ranting here, I just want to make the point that mine control is not so slick and simple like the writers want you to think here!!!!!

So now you think the story is over because I just write the moral for you and the moral always cums at the end.  But it isn’t over, I had not gotten my magic sex and I really wanted my magic sex. I mean, why even write this story and put it here if it has no magic sex, that would be so lame.

I had privacy now an probably should have done that to begin with. And so I typed lots of commands and point the thing at myself, and then I untype the screw up commands. You see, the device not even have spell chick, they say they think of everything but not that. I forget most of what I type in but some I remember are MAKE ME LOOK LIKE TOM CRUZE or MAKE MY DICK AS LONG AS A SNACK and MAKE ME SO I DON’T EVEN NEED THIS GISMO I CAN JUST MAKE A PRETTY GIRL CUM BY BATTERING MY EYES AT HER and MAKE IT SO REALLY PRETTY GIRLS GO ALL WEEK ON THERE KNEES WHEN THEY SEE MY DICK and MAKE GIRLS VAGINAS TURN INTO JUICY JUICE WHEN I SAY THE WORD JUICY and lots of other things like that. You get the idea, I wanted sexual powers for me even without the device, I mean what if I loose it or it brakes down? Pretty smart, huh?

Well let me tell you I was lucky to just be able to leaf that stall with the same crapping ass that I went in with. Like I say, the device does not have spell chick and so I not even know why everything turns out like it did. I got Tom Cruze’s head now but it don’t look like the won in the magazines, but its better then the one I had to begin with and especially the glowing one so that’s ok.

So where do things stand now? This is where I write a little bit extra, because you want to reed details of magic sex, don’t you? Okay, so: I am like a sexy wizard now, I guess that’s what you call it. I left Baltimore and my old life, I mean I had a new face and didn’t like that life anyway, people laughed at me a lot. You wonder why I didn’t have a friend help me with my spelling, too. Well you think about it –my friends I can’t trust with this device, maybe your friends are different but that my situation.

So for a while I pray on girls in malls, I’d hide in dressing rooms and pull out my dick and suddenly they are lick hungry beasts, it work every time. I know its not the rite think to do and it did not work out good anyway, the girls would get on there knees to blow me but then they not get back up like they’re stuck, and so I not have lying down sex with them I can’t. I make some girls tits grow (not growl, I not make that mistake again) and that really turns me on.

I fixed the girls on knees problem, practice make perfect sex. There is one girl I found in Philadelphia, her name is Summer and I call her Summer the Cummer because all I have to do is say the word Beefer and she is screaming with orgasm, even though I don’t remember writing the word Beefer at all, it must be one of my spelling mistakes. I make her tits grow and she likes it a lot and likes sex with me a lot too. Sex with Summer is like “Oh! Say Beefer again it makes me so hot an I thing I’m going to have my pussy blow up so much juicy juice an oh oh yes yes more more I kin never get enough say Beefer again I’ll never get enough Beefer sex you sexy idiot ahhhhhhHHHHH! There, that is pretty good sex writing, you think? And more expert way of sticking it in the story then my first try, you can compare, this hotter although hole story is not so hot, just true. Anyway, Summer calls me her sexy idiot a lot when we doing it and I kind of like that.

So I have girl friend now but I still like to make other girls do thinks, I turns some into girls who lick girls and others I make blow me and stuff and I not need to point phone thing at them because it is all inside me now. I find out that for some reason I can make girls cum by slapping my own face when we are fucking, they just loose it, and almost every day there is some new way to make girls cum, I do not know how many thinks I type in and point at myself but it must be a lot.

I still got the device an I still wonder if there up there, the UFO people, looking down on me an what they think. Was it random like he say? Did he know I have sex desires only, not want to take over country or something? I found a way to use the device to rob banks for money but that would be illegal right? So I not really say it, it is just a joke. And this is the Boobwhite joke thread right, so my story is in the right place.

Oh an one last think – I am almost through with the device and if the Ufo people let me I may put it on ebay  although I don’t know what category yet, I could use some advice. Then look for it, but if you get it don’t take over country okay, just have mine control sex its fun.

I say this an unfortunate story in the title and that refer to thinks that go wrong along the way, and now that include the need to spell chick it and have Nab stick it here again too so you can read it without your head explode. But now I am happy and that is my story and I hope you licked it.

[Nab]

By The Garters, With Care, Part One (mf, mast, santa)


Katie Merchant needed some holiday cheer.  She could tell, because no one was supposed to be this grumpy on Christmas Eve.

She'd snapped at a perfectly innocent question Susie had asked her after she picked the kids up from the babysitter, and had to apologize for being such a big meanie.  It had to do with having to work on the 24th of December, when darn near everyone else was having fun with their family, and she attempted to explain that to the kids without sounding too self-pitying.  She also tried not to hate Kensington Tate for causing her to work nearly the whole holiday on that stupid set of slides... but she didn't try all that hard.

Kensington had gone to Hal and asked if she could write the presentation, keeping Katie out of the loop altogether, with nary even the customary email.  Hal, Kensington had reasoned, outranked Katie, and why go to the subordinate when you can talk to the boss directly?  While Hal and his peers found this profoundly amusing, Katie objected to being treated like this on principle, and coworkers who ticked her off this way automatically got their Power Point slides downgraded.  Kensington would get several strategically embarrassing typos to teach the little wench some humility.

She needed something to cheer her up and, as always, her kids did the trick; by the time she pulled into the driveway she felt much better, but there was still something missing.  Colin would take care of that later tonight, she hoped.  God knew she needed a man around for that, if nothing else...

*   *   *

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, with visions of Xbox games and Dora the Explorer toys dancing in their heads.  Katie got halfway down the steps, then thought better of the idea, returning to lock the door to the kids' hallway.  She didn't want any interruptions.  Not tonight.

She made her way into the guest bathroom downstairs, where she kept an extra set of toiletries for nights when it just seemed too much of a pain in the butt to climb the steps and get into bed.

And for nights when you didn't want the kids to hear you sobbing yourself to sleep a more honest voice inside her said.  Damn you, Kevin, damn you and your stupid toy planes....  She stopped herself from going farther, either into melancholy or bitterness; the last thing she needed was to head down either path tonight.  Tonight was for her and Colin.  Tonight was for starting anew.

She'd been dating Colin a couple of months already.  Although the kids knew he was "mommy's friend", they didn't know that it went a bit farther than that.  And they didn't need to-- not yet, anyway.  Right now what they had was playful romps in the hay, but lately Katie had started to feel something else stirring within her, something that terrified her with its implications, and something she'd struggled to stifle.  Colin was a good guy, if a bit on the casual side, but Katie was starting to convince herself that maybe, just maybe, he might be a good dad for her kids, someday, if he could just get serious about her.  There was sometimes trouble between them about that sort of thing...

Well, she thought as she sat down in front of the makeup mirror in the downstairs bathroom, tonight I'll make sure to show him just how serious I am about him.  She opened a drawer under the sink and retrieved a bundle of flimsy but expensive material, and held it out in front of her with a dirty little smirk before beginning to put it on.

First the white satin bra and garter belt were upon her, then she drew the nude, silken stockings up her thighs.  She smoothed the wrinkles, then attached the hose to the garter tabs, one by one.  Colin was a leg man, she knew, and the stockings would ensure that he was at his most... powerful... tonight.  The thong was the final touch, and it felt so amusingly wrong to have it on over the garter belt instead of under.  That had been a request of his months ago (The better to eat you with, my dear! he'd leered), and she'd mock-frowned at his vulgarity and put up a token resistance.  A little.  But she was pretty sure by now she knew what pushed his buttons, and how hard, and she fully intended to use that knowledge tonight.

She stood up and looked at herself in the full-length near the bed.  Her hips were too wide, her butt too large, and her breasts too small (in short, she was phenomenal-looking, but had seen far too many airbrushed Cosmo's to believe this), but she was as sexy as she could make herself, and even she had to admit the effect of the lingerie on her figure was pleasing.  She sat down once more to touch-up her makeup, and then slipped on the high-heeled slippers and the diaphanous silk parody of a robe before heading back out to the living room.

She went to the kitchen, trying unsuccessfully to mute the clop-clop-clop of her heels on the tile floor, grabbed some ice out of the freezer, and placed it in the wine bucket she hadn't used in... she didn't even want to think about how long.  The chardonnay was in the fridge, and she gathered it along with the rest and clopped her way back to the couch in front of the fireplace.

Arraying herself in what she hoped was a seductive manner, she laid back and relaxed, checking the clock on the wall.  It was about to strike ten-- she'd finished just in time.  Come on, Colin!  Ready, waiting, and oh-so-willing!

It wasn't until 10:20 that she got worried, and by 10:30 she'd transitioned to annoyed.  By 10:40 she was back to worried again, as Colin being late reminded her of the night Kevin had been late, and she was about to start thinking hard about that when her cell phone rang.

Darn it, she thought, tripping twice on the heels in her rush to get the phone out of her purse in the dining room, this had better be good, Colin...

"Hello?"

"Hey, kitten."  His voice was vaguely apologetic.  "I'm sorry, I fell asleep in front of the TV.  They had this reality show on about what's her name, the one with the enormous boobs...? Oh, anyway, can we take a rain check on tonight?  I'm exhausted from work, and all the traffic on the way home, and it's already going on eleven at this point..."

"But, Colin... It's Christmas Eve.  Surely you don't want to be alone tonight?"

"No, I sure don't.  Why don't you come over here, then?  I'll make it worth your while..."  He trailed off, his meaning clear.

"Colin, you know I can't.  The kids."

"You can't leave 'em alone, just to sleep?  It's only a mile and a half away."

"They're three and six!  Of course I can't leave them alone!"

"Yeah, I guess not.  Well, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have fallen asleep, I know, and I wanted to see you this evening, too."

"Yeah, I know."  She toyed with telling him what she was wearing, how she was feeling, putting the pressure on... then imagined him zonked in front of a Paris Hilton marathon while she dolled herself up for him, and right then and there decided he wasn't worthy.  "Good night, Colin."

"Hey, we'll get together tomorrow or something, okay?"

"Or something.  'Night."  Jerk.

"Night, kiddo."

She threw the cell phone across the room and bit back tears.  No, she insisted.  No more crying.  Not over the likes of him.  I've had enough crying.

She cried.

Then she yanked the cork from the bottle and started drinking until the room began to glow around the edges.

"Sonofabitch," she commented, to no one in particular.  "And here I am, all dressed up and no one to blow.  Well, it's you who are missing out, Mr. Colin Germa-- Germanes-- oh, fuck it.  Your name's not worth the effort either.  I am, I'll have you know, a damn sexy woman.  I am hot.  A hottie."  Then why doesn't he want me? a small voice inside her asked, but she shut that snivelly little girl up real quick.  "I don't need Colin.  I have enough sexy for two people, right here in these panties."  She indicated this by putting her hand inside and patting herself there, and it was then that she realized how much she had been looking forward to tonight, and how much she was still in need of... comfort. 

With a sigh, she put down the wine glass and started in on what was all too often her most pleasurable sexual outlet in these past years.  With her left hand she lightly massaged her outer lips, teasing herself in preparation for more activity later; she bit her lip unconsciously as her right hand moved the cups of her bra aside and replaced them with her palm.  Pressing the nipples between her middle and ring finger, she felt the heat in her nether regions spike and was pleased to access it fully with her well-manicured hand.  Alternating tingles from her breasts and the pressure she was applying with her palm on her clitoris made her thong dampen considerably, and the rhythmic thrusting she performed with the two fingers she stuffed inside herself brought her exciting inner pleasure.  She held onto it as long as she could, postponing the final act, but when she could stand it no longer she directly tweaked her pearl with a back-and-forth motion which made her world shift and spin in violent oblivion.

Kevin, I miss you... she thought distantly as she relaxed into dreams.

*   *   *

The guy in red and white accessed his database feed to figure out who was next.

James Paul Goxxi... ah, yes.  James had prayed to God for a new bike, keeping Nicholas out of the loop altogether, with nary even the customary note.  God, James had reasoned, outranked Santa, and why go to the subordinate when you can talk to the Boss directly?  While the Father and the Son both found this profoundly amusing, Nick objected to being treated like this on principle, and kids who pissed him off this way automatically got their presents downgraded.  James would get a scooter to teach the little sprat some humility.

He tweaked a device on his belt, thereby ensuring little James's parents would think they had bought the gift themselves, and even implanting them with fuzzy memories of annoying shopping trips in order to obtain it.  Nicholas silently bemoaned this necessity in an age which no longer, it seemed, believed in miracles, but shook himself loose of these thoughts and moved on.  He still had a big night ahead of him, but the temporal distortion device ensured he would be able to hit every required house in the allotted time.  Christians get all the cool toys, he reflected, knocking the clock back ten minutes or so to give him time to get next door, but the saints get the cream of the crop.  The laity wouldn't get their hands on tech like this until the Church of Christ, Engineer was established in the latter half of the century, and that wouldn't happen until the prayer in the schools amendment was approved in '46...

Next in line was Billy and Susie Merchant.  He hit the chimney, and started dropping.  Hmmm... the database query indicated their father had died in a small place crash a couple of years ago.  The kids were less impacted by this than the average because, despite their family tragedy, their mother was remarkably good at juggling the modern-day responsibilities of a working mother and still finding the time to spend nurturing them in countless minor but critical ways.  Nice.  Mom was doing so well that the "post-trauma" coefficient had been dropped to 1.002 on their gift allocation-- barely above "untraumatized" on the scale.  Nicholas admired that kind of self-sufficiency, and made sure to make a note in his Yearly that the woman should be given extra consideration by his colleagues in their annual review of--

He stopped short in his crawl from the fireplace in order to give Katie Merchant "extra consideration". 

Sprawled across the couch in slumber, Billy and Susie's mom made quite a sight.  Her silk robe had parted around her generous bosom, and her breasts had fallen (been removed?) from the  cups of her brassiere, her pink nipples exposed to the firelight.  A wayward expanse of thigh, coated in a mist of thin nylon, made its way out the slit in her robe, and the high-heeled slipper at the end of the limb implied she had been going for the Victoria's Secret Catalog look instead of the comfy-toes-during-a-run-downstairs-for-coffee style. Not that Nick had to think too hard about her intentions, though; the translucent silk she wore revealed that she'd not bothered to remove her hand from her panties as she'd fallen asleep. 

It was hardly uncommon for Nick to encounter adults at this time of night-- even conscious ones; it was the twenty-first century, after all, not the thirteenth.  He'd seen more bizarre stuff in his years than he could recall, and he wished he'd had one of these modern camcorders back during the Victorian era just to prove to the elves that old Santa hadn't been drinking too much 'nog when he told these stories at parties.  So this scene wasn't exactly shocking.  Somehow, however,  the sight of this beauty enticed him as few did.  Maybe it was the loneliness of the self-pleasuring act itself.  Perhaps it was the empty wine bottle in a bucket's half-melted slurry on the floor, or even the end table nearby which told the rest of the story: two glasses, one used.  It was at once charming and sad, but even aside from the emotional reaction, Nicholas had to admit, it was pretty damned arousing.

Tossing his bag aside, Saint Nick removed his mittens, eager to warm his hands on this woman's flesh.  What were the naughty boys calling them these days?  Moms I'd Like to Fuck?

The belt device was useful for more than memory alteration; in the event that someone was still awake during Nick's romps around the tree, he could use it to knock them out temporarily.  In this case, since she was already asleep, he just dialed it in on a minimal setting to keep her that way.  Closing in, he placed his chilled palms on her tits and watched the nipples awaken.

Aside from the obvious ethical issues with taking Katie's pussy while she was drunk and asleep, Nicholas didn't experience much guilt to ruin the moment; Mrs. Claus ignored his once-a-year dalliances with random trollops across the globe, and in turn Nick pretended not to notice her weird elf-fetish during the rest of the year.  It all worked out, and since there was absolutely no way his saintly spunk could impregnate this fine lady... well, who exactly was being harmed in all of this?  He parted her thighs with a majesty befitting their perfect shape, and slid the thong aside to view the glory within, her hand still caught in the panties' band.  Ah... now this was beauty.  He brushed his lips, lively and quickly over her outer lips, and slurped his tongue inside for a taste of her.  Yes, she'd been a bad, bad girl earlier this evening. 

He dropped his red fur trousers and got busy with fucking her.  While not overly-endowed as far as saints went (the Biblical stories of how Simon had gotten the nickname "Peter" were somewhat edited) he did all right, and Mrs. Claus had never complained.  Of course, thinking of seeing her going down on Winkie that one time lent a little less ardor to his performance tonight, so he put that sort of thought out of his mind for the moment and concentrated on the look of Katie, the smell of her somnolescent arousal, and the heaviness of her breathing as she accepted him, all of him, into her warm, wet space, and in a wonderful dream thrust her hips up to meet his...

And woke up.

He was in the midst of his climax, so it was tens of seconds before he could dampen her sleepy bewilderment into unconsciousness by grabbing his pants and fumbling with his belt to dial the device's sleep feature to "maximum".

Damn.  Damn damn damn.

That had been a close one; what if she had cried out and woken up the children, or the neighbors?  The memory device didn't actually edit the brain, it just sort of left blurry impressions that something had or had not happened.  And having the kids humming a hip new tune, I Saw Mommy Fucking Santa Claus, would not play well at the All-Saints Consortium in June...   While it might not undo all of Katie's excellent mothering, therapy would doubtless have been required.  Eesh.

He drew open his trousers, and threw them up his ass.  Snapped his belt closed and pondered how to play with her head to minimize the damage, or at least...

Nicholas grinned.  He got an awful idea.  The saint got a wonderful, awful idea...  He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.

*   *   *

Katie awoke with a funny head and an urge to pee.  She kicked off her ridiculous slippers and tromped into the bathroom.  While she did her business, she laughed out loud at the dream she'd been having.  Well, at least he's a man who knows the meaning of hard work responsibility, and most of all punctuality.  And the beard was kind of tickly, in a nice way.

She chuckled again as she flushed the toilet, then removed her unmentionables and slid into something more matronly.  She almost forgot to unlock the upstairs door before she crashed on the guest room bed.

She giggled to herself once more as she remembered his cheery laughter, and then dropped back down into the wine and exhaustion, knowing she would have to be awake again in a matter of hours.  Her dreams started with a perverse take on an old favorite...

Santa Claus is coming
in me.

It only got weirder from there.

*   *   *

The car ride to her brother-in-law's house for the traditional Christmas day feast with the relatives was as loud as could be expected; Susie's newest dolly was chatting with one of the old dolls (instructing it on its ABCs, which evidently contained a brand new letter, "Blue"), while Billy's Killer Space Charger clicked and beeped and shouted "Kill!  Kill!  Kill!".  Her only refuge was the classical music station, but she couldn't hear it over the ruckus, so she shushed the kids and turned the radio to something with lyrics.  The local soft-rock station had an "all holiday music" motif going on this time of year, so she tried that.  Billy obliged by putting aside the murderous robot and singing along, louder than the broadcast itself, with unpleasant results:

Cum, he told me
cum cum ca-cum cum.

A stiff hard cock to suck
cum cum ca-cum cum.

Katie was horrified and almost slammed into the Honda in front of her. She muted the radio.

"What did you just say, Billy?"

"Pa rum pa pum pum?"

"Before that."

"A newborn king to see?"  The height of innocence.  Susie's dolls were still arguing.

Katie narrowed her eyes at him, but she decided to let it go for now.  After a minute or so, she moved the volume up again.  Billy obliged by adding his voice again, this time more cautiously.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
just like the ones I used to know.

Where the cunt-lips glisten--

Amidst her shrieks, Katie pulled the car to the side of the road.  The radio was off, now, and would stay off.  Susie's dolls stopped arguing.

"Where in the world did you learn such language, young man?"

Billy looked mystified.  "Uh..."

My god, she thought, I figured it wouldn't be this bad until age nine, at least.  Unless...  He couldn't have!

"Did Colin teach you that?  When you went out for your 'boys' day' last week?"  My baby boy!

Billy was becoming terrified at his mother's emerging hysteria, and was on the verge of tears.  "No, mom, it was in music class at school.  Everyone was singing it."

Uh huh.  She didn't believe that for an instant.  This was Colin's doing-- this was just like him.  Him and his rap music and his Camaro and his Pam Anderson.  Bastard!  Well, she had him on speed dial...

"Hello?"

"Colin?"

"Katie!  Sweetheart, I'm so sorry about last--"

"Skip it, you jerk.  Billy just told me about the little songs you've been teaching him.  You disgusting pig!  He's six years old!"

"Six and a half, mom!"

"Stay out of this, Billy!"

"Kate, what the fuck are you talking about!"

"That's exactly the sort of language I don't want you teaching Billy, you son of a... you... freak!  Don't you ever, ever call me again!"  She pushed several buttons at once on her cell phone, one of which probably hung up on him.  Her head was in her hands for several moments before Susie asked her if she was okay.

"Yes, dear, I'm fine.  We're just not going to see my friend Colin anymore because he was teaching Billy naughty things.  Billy," she added, turning to face him directly, "it's not your fault, but please, please, don't sing any other songs or use any other words Colin taught you, okay?  He's not a very nice man."

"Okay, mom."

"Thank you, sweetie.  Thank you."  She took another breath, then blew both of the kids kisses and started edging the car back into traffic again.  She felt oddly relieved by the whole ordeal, and confident of the future.  And with her newfound confidence she felt, as she sometimes did, even a little bit aroused.  The foul lyrics of the songs, troubling as they were coming out of Billy's lips, had left her with a bit of an edge she'd have to work off tonight when the kids were sleeping.

Billy had no clue what had come over his mother, but he was glad he wouldn't have to spend time with that stupid Colin anymore, so he didn't want to argue with her.  He smiled and pushed the button on the Space Charger again.

"Kill!  Kill!  Kill!"

It wasn't until October that Katie gave the incident another thought.

*   *   *

Halloween had not even passed yet and already Costco had mechanical reindeer for sale, sprinkled with miniature lights and stooping to eat nonexistent grass.  It never failed to amaze Katie how the Christmas season migrated forward in the year.  Soon they would be selling Nativity displays during Back to School sales, she felt certain.

At any rate, even here in Michigan snowfall was a month away except in the humongous snow globe sitting on the top shelf, wedged between the leftover six-person tents and the reasonably priced backyard jungle-gym.  The kids were in the next aisle, digging through the childrens' DVDs and snagging a few to try and surreptitiously sneak into the cart, but Katie stood and looked at the snow globe.  Inside, a Frosty-wannabe smiled down on her while a cute little house in the background was invaded by a red-coated marauder with a getaway sleigh parked up top.  She stared at the scene for several moments, imagining the snowflakes alighting on her breasts, nipples stiffening with their chill... and suddenly, even the snowman's carrot nose was starting to look pretty good to her.

She shook herself out of this reverie, trying to remember how long it had been since she'd been with a man.  Not since Colin, and that was before Christmas last year.  But work had been busy, the kids had needed her, and there wasn't much time or opportunity to meet men of any other sort than the random, useless sort.  She sighed, then turned and removed Disney Princesses Save The World II from the cart and kept moving.

She couldn't stop thinking about Christmas, though, after that light taste in the store, and when the kids were in the back yard playing she put in her favorite holiday CD, An Old-Fashioned Christmas.  Why was it, she wondered, that the 1950s and 60s generated so many good Christmas tunes?

Eartha Kitt's sultry voice came out of her speakers and Katie began to do a cute little dance around the room:

Santa baby,
just slip a finger under my thong.
So wrong!
Been an awful bad girl
Santa baby,
so plunge into my chimney tonight.


Katie stopped short.  What the hell is this, the Madonna version?  She checked the CD case, and even pulled the disk out of the player to check the cover.  Totally legitimate.  Shaking her head, she put the disk back in and fast forwarded to track four.

Up on the housetop, reindeer's paws
Out jumps good old Santa Claus.
Down in your pussy he'll put some toys,
don't wake the little ones with your noise!

Ho, ho, ho
who wouldn't blow?
Ho, ho, ho
who wouldn't blow...

Up on the housetop, (clit clit clit)
Down on the bed when he's in your slit.


Her eyes bulged.  She tried another disk, a Mannheim Steamroller of some flavor or other.

Veni, veni, Emmanuel!
Veni in my mouth, on my tits as well.

She made an exasperated noise.  That was a fucking hymn!  I mean... sorry, God... a gosh darn hymn.  What in the hell was going on?

She was confused.  And frantic.

And hornier than she'd been in years.

She tried disk after disk, and it seemed only the Christmas tunes had been affected; all of her Amy Grant CDs were fine except the Christmas ones, where she sweetly informed listeners

It's the most wonderful time of the year!
When the guys all have hard-ons and girls say "Beg pardon,
there's cum in my ear."
It's the most wonderful time of the year..."


Then memories of last year's car ride crashed into her and she recalled Billy's look of confusion when she'd hollered at him for singing those naughty lyrics.  When she'd asked him what he'd said, he'd repeated the proper lyrics... was it just her?  Her own head, messing with the lyrics of Christmas tunes, making them outrageously disgusting (and hot, admit it!) (disgusting!  well, yes, okay, hot...).  What in the world did that say about her sanity, her piety... her very suitability as a mother?  Should she call Doctor Blaise and make an appointment?

No.  Something else was going on.  Susie chose that moment to come in.  "I have to go potty," she chimed.

"Just a second, honey.  Can you sing Jingle Bells for me right now?"

Susie's eyebrows furrowed, and she giggled.  "Okay."

Dashing through my lips
in a bed shaped like a sleigh
in and out he slips
thrusting all the way...

Katie winced and stopped her in the middle of "ha ha ha".  "Okay, honey, now could you say those words again for mommy?"

"Okay.  'Dashing through my lips--'"

"No, dear, don't sing them, say them."

"Okay."  Her singsong became a chant.  "Dash-ing-through-the-snow, in-a--"  She stopped and looked bemused.

"What is it, dear?  Did the words sound different to you, too, when you said them instead of sang them?"

"No."

"Then why did you stop?"

She looked a bit bashful.  "Mommy, I had a accident."

*   *   *

[Nab]

By The Garters, With Care, Part Two (mf, mast, santa)


Doctor Blaise couldn't get her in to see him until January because he was booked solid through the end of the year.  "Holidays really bring out the nuttiness in people," his receptionist commented, chuckling.  Katie did not punch her.

As the weeks went on, she was able to mostly avoid the music.  (With the exception of her own furtive little listening sessions late at night when the kids had crashed and previews of Cinemax's late night offerings made her a little edgy.)  But post-Thanksgiving it became nearly impossible to fend the stuff off.

It was like living life with a filthy, relentless, less talented "Weird Al" Yankovic who would not shut up.  If Weird Al made you horny every time you heard his music, that is.  Because that was certainly what was happening every time she heard a Christmas carol of any stripe.

More modern ditties were not immune, as Katie had discovered when the "Band-Aid" song Do They Know It's Christmas? came on and even queer-as-a-three-dollar-bill Boy George urged her to

... throw your legs around the world
at Christmastime...

Of course, being in the car at the time, she'd had the luxury of being able to hike up her skirt and massage her clit at a red light, but the car behind her had spoiled her almost-orgasm by laying on the horn as she missed the green light.  She'd returned one cunt-steamed hand to the wheel, but couldn't stop pumping herself with the other, despite the rather awkward positioning.  When Bono had wailed

... well, tonight thank God it's them
inside of you!

while still somehow making it sound socially relevant, she'd swerved a second before the antilock took hold; involuntarily curling toes on the brake pedal spelled trouble in any weather, but with the dirt-blackened slush inches deep on the road, she risked life and limb in her continued efforts to fuck herself.  She had shut off the radio again in self-preservation.

Work was a nightmare, alternating between sopping panties at her desk and trips to the ladies' room in order to "take the edge off" (and perhaps to wipe up a bit).  She'd gone to her boss early on to ask that the Christmas songs not be played over the sound system.

Tiny tarts with their thighs all askew
will find it hard to sleep tonight.

"Hal, don't you think the Christmas music is a little... well, it might be offensive to people who don't have Christian beliefs."

"You know, I wondered that myself.  Brought it up to Old Man Scoggins, in fact, at executive staff."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I won't be doing that again.  He yelled at me.  Said that all this newfangled politically correct nonsense can kiss his ass.  That it's his company and he'd be damned if he let some lawyers tell him what kind of music he can and can't play in the office, and fuck 'em if they don't like it."  He realized what he'd just said.  "Um... sorry.  That was a quote, you know, not me talking, and I--  Well, anyway, it's kind of out of my hands."

"I see."

"But I'm trying to do a little bit, anyway, to make it all more inclusive."  He looked proud of himself.  "I've snuck a couple of Hanukkah songs into the mix.  And even some hip-hop."

"Hip-hop?"

"You know, for Kwanzaa."

*   *   *

She skipped church the last several weeks before the holiday, as the choirs were in attendance and being appropriately seasonal:

Don't rest, ye merry gentlemen,
until you suck my tits!
Then make your way between my legs
to tongue my needy clit.
When I've come twice I'd find it nice
if you would fill my slit.

O tidings of cunt, porn, and toys
(cum from my boys!)
O tidings of cunt, porn, and toys.

and it gave her the wiggins to have her head filled with... well, having herself filled while Pastor Salem looked on.  And sometimes participated, in her imagination, despite his age and marital status.  After a resounding chorus of

Joy to the world!
The whore has cum.

Let Kate
receive
your dick!

had her hand snaking involuntarily down her tummy, she vowed to stay away until after New Year's Day.  The kids would be okay if they missed a couple of Sunday school classes-- far better off than if their mother was publicly ostracized for masturbating in the pews.

Evading church was one thing, but there was no way to avoid shopping, and though the mall was the one place on earth she most wanted to avoid, she had little choice but to make the pilgrimage during her lunch hours, though she postponed it to the last week possible.

The first day, as she'd passed the "Santa's Palace" display with its excessively long queue of mommies and three-year-olds, she had only a little trouble resisting the urge to go inside and sit on the bearded man's lap.  By the third day, she found herself in line instead of in a toy store, and forty-five minutes later had stepped into the man's presence.  "Ho, ho, ho!" he said, glancing about for the requisite child.  "Now, who's going to sit on my lap today, young lady?"

"Um... I am?" she replied, flushed with embarrassment and not a little lust.

"Er... I suppose.  Um..."

She took the opportunity before he could change his mind.  Or before she could.  In an instant, she was resting her pert derriere on his red mock-fur pants.

"Now, uh... what would you like for Christmas, my dear?"

"I think you know what I'd like," she heard herself saying, as if from a long way away.

"Is that... is that so?"

"Yes.  In fact, I think I can feel it on my ass right now."  She ground her butt down on the growing bulge in his pants and looked him straight in the eye.  "So what'll it be, Santa?  Care to make my day be merry and bright?"

"I... but, there are children here."  His voice dropped several decibels but went up an octave.  "Lady, I can't do this.  I need this job.  And my wife... well, anyway, I need this job.  Maybe you can come back in a couple of hours, when I'm on break?"

It wasn't the same, now, with him out of character, and Katie shook herself loose from the hold her body had placed on her.  "I... I'm sorry.  I have to go."

"My break starts at---"  He looked around at the expectant child next in line.  "I mean, er, Rudolph needs to be fed at two-thirty.  Perhaps you can be a good little elf and help me?"

But she was already gone, on her way to a snatch-fingering appointment in the women's rest room\, and then back to work.

The following day she'd repeated the drill, this time straddling his lap instead of sitting on it, whispering in his ear that she wasn't wearing any panties under her dress, and couldn't he please give her a present?  Unfortunately, she'd been overheard by the mother next in line, who began screeching and otherwise making a fuss, and she'd fled once more.  This time she was so agitated and flustered she even didn't even stop to wash her hands afterward, and smelled of cunt all afternoon.  Somehow, that was even better.

The next day, she had worked herself into a dripping, stinking frenzy, but before she could even get in line, two gentlemen in suit coats and ties approached her.  "Ma'am, can we have a talk?"

"Not right now."  They stood in her way.  "You don't understand, I have some... shopping to do."

"This is the line to see Santa Claus, ma'am."  He waited an instant, but she didn't object.  "Please come with us."

She followed the men, gazing back wistfully at the Palace, and sighed.

In the privacy of a the mall back office, at the urging of the background Muzak version of "Bring a Torch, Jeannette, Isabella" (which her slutty little cuntbrain filled in with the "proper" lyrics)

Bring me off, you and that other fella'
bring me off with your fingers and tongues...

she offered to blow them both if they would ignore her little altercations with Saint Nick's doppleganger.  One of the pair seemed up for it-- even when she asked that he wear a red-and-white fuzzy hat (the thought of which made her shiver deliciously)-- but the other was a complete spoilsport and reminded him about his girlfriend.  She had been indignant about how they treated customers, and even made noises about how much money they would miss out on when she told all her friends not to shop here, but in the end, they had kicked her out of the mall and in very polite and apologetic terms asked that she not return.  Until next year, at the very least.

Somehow, she did get her shopping done in smaller, family owned stores, though it cost her a bit more in both price and gasoline.  And she tried in vain to find a Salvation Army Santa, hoping that he would prove more amenable to her offerings, but though SA Clauses were ubiquitous in every normal year, for some reason she couldn't find one.  And wasn't that just like a man?  Always lurking about, swinging his thick juicy... um, bell... around until you needed him.  Then: nowhere to be found.

And, oh, how she needed him!  She needed him in her chimney something awful.

*   *   *

"An entire sleigh?"  The idea was immensely hot to her, but she suppressed her excitement.  She was at work, after all, even though most of her coworkers had slowly trickled out over the last hour or so to get an early start on the holiday traffic.

"Yeah, we bought it last summer at Bronner's in Frankenmuth."

"Last summer?  What kind of shop sells Santa sleighs in summertime?"

Whitney giggled.  "I know!  It's a huge Christmas store that's open like three hundred sixty-odd days a year.

Katie imagined what it would be like to live in a place that was Christmas all year round.  I might have to move to Frankenmuth, she murmured.

That was the moment Kensington chose to show up in her cubicle, blathering on about something she wanted done.  She was wearing her typical power-suit, supplemented with a Santa hat to add a touch of whimsy.  Even Katie had to admit it was rather fetching.

She made her goodbyes to Whitney and hung up the phone as over the office P.A. system, the next song started:

Have yourself a merry little clitoris:
Kensington is gay.
Grab her by the hair and force her to obey.

and though Katie really wasn't into girls, something about being pleasured by the mouth of Kensington Tate, bitch-bane of her existence, was putting her in serious danger of leaving a puddle in her chair. 

"Hmmm?" she replied, having not really been listening to the other woman but instead wondering what her tits looked like.

"I said I need it done before the end of the year because the conference is January 3rd, and I want to make sure I have time to proofread it this time."

Katie grabbed her coat and her keys and retorted, "I'll do it after New Year's."

The blonde's smile was icy.  "I don't consider that acceptable, and I'll go to Hal."

"Kensington," she sighed, "you can feel free to go straight to hell," and drawled the last word enough that she could later claim she'd said "Hal".  Plausible deniability.

Though the night she will seduce your pussy
if you will allow.
Hang an "I'm a slut!" sign on that stupid cow!

That had her nipples stiff and was giggle-making, but not very practical.  However, there was something the illustrious Miss Tate could provide her with which would give her joy...

She stood up, purse in hand, and made a mock-kissing sound at the woman.  "You're under the mistletoe," she lied in explanation, and when Kensington looked up to see if it was true, Katie plucked the hat from her head and walked away.

Ignoring Kensington's indignant "Hey!" and placing the bitch's hat on her own head, she strutted out of the office to the unabashed laughter of her colleagues, the closing lyric on her lips, hoping no one heard her singing about having her merry little clitoris, now.


*   *   *

This year's trip to the guest bathroom to get dolled up was a mirror image of last year: the same, but with some element of reversal.  Every minor action, from slipping on her bra to applying her eyeliner, was done with a sensuous delicacy.  Even smoothing the wrinkles in her stockings was performed with relish, savoring every last ripple and pulling the sheen taut on her thighs.  Last year, while putting stuff on for that idiot Colin, her movements had been entirely mechanical and meaningless; now the feeling of her own body beneath her hands was causing her to juice in excited response.  Her panties would be ruined by night's end, she felt certain. 

There were other differences, too: she'd complemented this year's outfit with matching elbow-length gloves, for instance. The main shift, however, had been in her choice of color: this time, every silken inch of her lingerie was a shimmering black.  And no slippers, now, however sexy; no, this year the fuck-me pumps came out of the closet, glossy and sleek, elevating her ass in that way she knew men drooled about.  She avoided looking in the full-length mirror: it was all she could do to keep from lying back on the bed and fucking herself with her hands, and she still had some minor preparations before it was time.  She pranced into the living room with a swing in her hips.

There was a large silver plate on the coffee table, and it contained nothing more than some cloth napkins arrayed on the bottom.  No sense being chilly.

A pity I'm not still nursing Susie, she thought briefly.  Then there'd be some milk to go along with my... cookie.  She shifted the plate on the coffee table and filled it with her ass.  The clock was millimeters from midnight.  Andy Williams' voice filled her head, his smooth baritone twisted into the profane:

 It's the holiday season...
 So whoop-dee-do, and hickory dock
 and don't forget
 to swallow his cock
 'cause just exactly at twelve o'clock
 there'll be coming on your chin, leaked down...

That was enough right there; with three yanks and a ripping sound (she'd known the panties wouldn't last long!), her bare and glistening sex offered itself on the platter to all comers, but to one especially...

He'll have a big fat sack
   with balls, it's packed
   with lots of goodies for you to receive
   so leave a peppermint stick
   for Claus to lick
   hanging out of your pussy....

But before she could follow The Bad Andy's advice, she heard a noise up on the rooftop (Ho, ho, ho, who wouldn't blow?), and a whoosh of cold air turned the blazing fire into a stark, cold box.  A laugh-- deep, rolling, and merry-- accompanied the black boots down the fireplace flue, and seconds later the rest of his form was revealed.  She barely had time to put Kensington's hat on before he looked up at her.

Katie laughed when she saw him, in spite of herself, no doubt because of his shocked-but-pleased expression.  "Merry Christmas," he somewhat-less-than-boomed.

"Happy Hanukkah.  Do you have a present for me?"

The quirk of his white beard was the only evidence of the grin beneath.  "You're not on my list."

"Not at all?  But I've been so very naughty..."  She increased the spread of her legs, leaning forward to run her gloved hands slowly and deliberately up her stockings.

"Naughty, eh?  Maybe I have a lump of coal in here to give you."

"You have a lump of something, I'm sure."  Her eyes flashed at him, and her satin-coated fingers spread her nether lips toward him.  "Does that mean you won't give me a present?"

"I think you're mistaken.  You have earned a present.  I think you're nice."

"That too."

"Very, very nice."

"You say the sweetest things.  Now fuck me, you jolly old elf."

Nothing remotely resembled a bowl full of jelly: Santa'd been using the elliptical.  Though something definitely shook when he laughed.  Shook and pulsed and pounded.  And he laughed a lot.

*   *   *

Shredded slag of the gift-opening carnage littered the floor as Billy and Susie sorted their loot.  Katie watched from the kitchen table, sipping her morning coffee in amusement.  It wasn't until the spoils became less exciting and hunger for breakfast took hold that the children even remembered she was in the room, but eventually they joined her at the table for a bowl of Rice Krispies (in a red, white, and green Special Holiday Edition box, of course).

"Mommy," inquired Susie, "what did Santa get you this Christmas?"

Biting back chuckles, which only made the pleasant aches in her lower regions throb some more, Katie replied sincerely, "Santa gave me some good old-fashioned Christmas spirit.

"I can't wait 'til next year."

[Nab]

Saving Lindsay
 
“Driving with you in your new Jag is nice and all Tara but you said you had a real special present for my 18th birthday,” said Lindsay Lohan, her red hair whipping in the breeze as she took in the sights as the sports car drove near the beach.

“Oh I do, believe me, a present you’ll never forget,” said Tara Reid with a laugh as she turned off the Malibu exit of the Pacific Coast Highway. “Remember, you can do some things now that your 18 that legally you couldn’t before. And I intend to make sure you, ha, ha, exercise fully your legal rights.”

Lindsay flipped up her sunglasses and looked at Tara quizzically.

“Legal rights? What are you going to do, make me vote,” she said.

At that moment, Tara made a sharp right turn into a small street that said “Private Driveway” and pulled up to a long one-floor very modern looking building.

Lindsay’s eyes got wide as she looked up at the sign on the building: Malibu Women’s Health Spa.

“You ditz, you’ve been hanging out with Paris too much,” said Tara as she giggled. “Why do you think I told you to wear a bikini. Now you can legally have sex as a consenting adult.
“I can bring you here and the people don’t have to worry about your mother or managers getting mad and throwing statutory rape charges at them for fucking you silly. And you are about to be fucked silly, believe me.”

“Wow,” was all Lindsay could say.

From many of the girls she partied long into the night with, Lindsay had heard about this incredible fitness club in Malibu where the most beautiful women imaginable spent all day working out and having sex with each other.

As Tara and Lindsay made their way into the Spa, Lindsay just gaped at the incredible number of hotties who were wearing the tiniest of workout outfits scurrying about, all in close quarters to each other, obviously on purpose.

She frankly started to get intimidated. Yeah, Lindsay did party a ton, but she was not that sexually experienced. She’d only had a couple of boyfriends.

“Uh, Tara, you like, know I’m not a lesbian or anything,” said Lindsay as they went past the main desk and toward a small wing of offices. “I don’t know much about having sex with other girls.”

“Well, I’m sure as hell not a lezzy either, you know all the guys I’ve slept with,” said Tara as she bent down to talk to a receptionist. “But this is pure Taradise for me, a place to have fun and get in shape too. It’s like its own world, separate from reality. As long as you’re here, you like, no, absolutely love, to have sex with women.
“And don’t worry, there will be plenty of people here who will be more than happy to “teach” you. C’mon, Tracy is ready.”

As they entered the room that had “Tracy – Manager” on the door, Lindsay’s jaw dropped. Coming toward them was the most physically perfect woman she had ever seen.

She was about 5-foot-10 and looked around 25. She had an hourglass figure but somehow also had a six-pack stomach. Her legs were long and lean and her breasts, well, spectacular, barely encased in a thin sports bra, and she had lustrous, wavy shoulder length brunette hair.

She looked like a goddess she was so perfect – a Goddess of Sex, thought Lindsay, as she had heard that Tracy had a virtually insatiable thirst for girl-sex.

“Hey Tara, see you brought the birthday girl,” said Tracy who bent down to the much-shorter Reid and gave her a kiss on the lips, which did not stop as they began entwining tongues and moaning as the kiss continued.

Tracy then brushed away a strap of Tara’s top and began squeezing and clutching at one of Tara’s breasts as they still kissed. Tara responded by moaning even louder.

When the kiss finally broke off, the pair then both whipped off their tops and buried their face in the other’s breasts, suckling, kissing and playfully nipping at the pink areolas each sported with now rock-hard nipples.

Lindsay stood a few feet away and just gawked. She had never seen two girls have sex in person before  - and Tara and Tracy were going at it with barely a hello!

Tara had now pulled down Tracy’s thong and her head was bobbing as she ate out
Tracy’s totally bald pussy. Tracy threw her head back and moaned her approval as her hands renewed its mauling of Tara’s very pert breasts.

Lindsay watched Tracy’s hips buck and saw Tara stop bobbing and bury her face deep in Tracy’s pussy, and could hear her muffled shouts as she obviously was now having her own orgasm coursing through her to join Tracy in sexual enthrallment.

Her chest going up and down with rapid breathing, Tara turned her cum-smeared face to Lindsay. “Sorry, we got a bit carried away. It’s been a week since I had sex with Tracy.”
Lindsay didn’t know what to say at this point but Tracy bailed her out quickly.

“Oh that was just a primer anyhow for you Lindsay, come with me,” said Tracy as she guided them to an adjoining room.
“Uh, don’t you need your clothes if we’re going out of your office,” said a still shell-shocked Lindsay.

“Not necessary,” said Tracy as she threw open the door.  “Happy Birthday, or make that Boobday, Lindsay.”

Lindsay could only gasp at the sight.
Standing single-file in what looked like a large bedroom were 10 of the most gorgeous creatures Lindsay had ever seen, and all of them completely nude.

“I mentioned to some of the girls we were going to, ah, celebrate your birthday today Lindsay and we found some very big fans of yours, particularly of your big breasts, who wanted to be part of the celebration,” said Tracy with a smile and a knowing wink at the still-stunned Lindsay.

“Now, let’s get you comfortable. A bikini? Way too much clothing for a proper birthday party.”

Tracy quickly brushed the straps of the bikini off Lindsay’s shoulders as the top fell to the ground. Tara Reid at the same time had untied Lindsay’s bottom and it now too pooled at her feet.

Tara and Tracy looked at each other knowingly. Lindsay’s red-tinged bush was soaking wet. Lindsay might be very nervous about what was about to happen but she was also obviously totally turned on by the thought of being gang-banged by a bunch of hot girls.

“Time to eat your birthday cake, or something even better,” said Tracy as she guided the now naked Lindsay Lohan to the massive waterbed that dominated the room. The other naked girls soon joined her there.

(4 hours later)

Lindsay Lohan’s body was red and covered in slick-sweet cum, as well as cake crumbs, as she layed limp as a noodle in the waterbed. Her breasts were tender and even redder than the rest of her them from the almost continuous licking, pinching and clawing they had gone through.

Sometime during the girl orgy, a real birthday cake had been brought in. The girls had gleefully smeared the cake over Lindsay’s curvy body and licked it off with brio. Crumbs and icing had flown off her breasts when massive orgasms triggered by all the licking caused Lindsay’s body to convulse wildly.

Lindsay’s body shivered slightly, trying to recover from the marathon sex session she just had.
Tracy, almost equally slick and cakey, as she had been a major player in the total defilement of Lindsay’s body, sat down next to her and began caressing her juicy breasts as Lindsay gave a small moan.

“I do love your tits Lindsay, and so did everyone else,” said Tracy as she gave a playful pull of the sore nipples. “So, now that you’ve gotten a free look at what we do, I can inform you as a legal adult you can become a member of the Spa and have fun every day here.”

Lindsay’s sexually satisfied face suddenly twisted and she began crying.

“I can’t,” she sobbed. “Not now. Not for like six months. I have a movie I have to shoot and an album to record. I don’t want to wait. I want to join the Spa and be here every day and have sex with you and Tara - and all my new friends - and all their friends they promised to introduce me to.
“I want to join so bad but I’ve signed the contracts. I’m so sorry Tracy.”

Tracy lifted Lindsay’s head and placed it on the soft pad formed by her own large breasts and rubbed her backside in a soothing fashion. Lindsay sighed with contentment.

“Don’t worry Lindsay, we’ll be here in six months,” said Tracy as she rubbed Lindsay’s body some more. “It’ll just make the “reunion party” that much sweeter.”

Lindsay stopped crying and wiped away her tears.

“Thanks Tracy, I’ll count the days until I can be a member, a real active member” said Lindsay. “Don’t worry, I’ll be in great shape next time you see me.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Six months later)

Tara Reid walked into Tracy’s office wearing a little red two-piece workout outfit and gave her a deep French kiss as usual, but instead of then having sex with her, Tara suddenly sat down in a chair and motioned Tracy to sit down behind her desk.
“Tara Reid wants to talk and not have sex, what’s up, must be big,” said Tracy who was in her usual bra top and thong outfit.

“Well, it’s actually about someone getting littler,” said Tara as she dipped into her purse.
“Remember Lindsay Lohan, what she looked like at the birthday party you were kind enough to host.”

“Sure, I’ve been counting the days until she has time to become a member,” said Tracy. “A nice big rack, beautiful long red hair, cute freckles, curves all over. I need to do some toning of her but outside of that she’s already a superfox.”

“Well, look at superfox now,” said Tara as she placed the entertainment section of the local paper on Tracy’s desk.”
There was a picture from the big movie premiere that had occurred the night before.
On the cover was a wafer-thin girl wearing a dress than hung on her skeletal body with barely anything to cover. The girl had a bad blonde dye job and her skin had sort of a fake eggshell white tone to it - and the girl was obviously flat-chested.

Tracy took the paper and began flipping through the pages. “Where’s Lindsay? I don’t see here in this.”

Tara went over to Tracy’s side of the desk and took the paper. She slammed it down and pointed to the human stick figure on the front. “That’s Lindsay Lohan, at least the part of her that’s left.”

Tracy’s eyes bugged out.

“That’s not Lindsay, that’s an anorexic model who needs to see a better beautician and dermatologist,” said Tracy. “That’s why I don’t have as many models here as you would think. I’m into healthy living and girls like this are more into starvation.”

“No, that is, or was, what’s left of Lindsay Lohan,” said Tara as she began to cry.
“I don’t know what happened Tracy. She had so much fun here, she used to talk all the time about how much she looked forward to joining the Spa and working out and having lots of sex here. She even recorded her album in her movie trailer to get it out of the way so she could join sooner.
“Then all of a sudden a few months ago, she changed. After partying all night we used to go out and eat cheeseburgers and discuss who did what to whom. Then, she began eating just a salad, and now she just orders water. And we’re dancing for hours and hours.
“Then she changed to blonde hair and began bleaching away her freckles. Said she had to start looking more mature. I was going along with all this, hey she’s just a kid experimenting, but then the clincher came a week ago.
“She said she had her own personal trainer she’s been working with for a while and did not need to join the Spa. I know something’s up with her. I need your help.”
Tracy gave Tara a bunch of tissues and she sat back down in her chair as the wheels turned in Tracy’s mind.

Tracy was a good judge of character, particularly someone who’s butt she had jammed a strap-on into four or five times.

Lindsay was indeed at heart a nice girl, not a mean girl, she felt, and certainly smart enough not to suddenly change an appearance that had made her one of the best known young actresses in Hollywood – and a look that didn’t need changing anyhow.

“You’re right Tara, something is up with Lindsay, and it certainly is not her bra size,” said Tracy looking at the now tiny little apples that substituted for her once sumptuous rack. “This will disappoint a lot of girls here.”

“Oh, you mean the 10 girls at her birthday party,” said a still sniffling Tara.
“10! Make more like 50,” said Tracy. “When you called me with that wonderful two hours notice that you were bringing her over, I just ran into the gym and shouted

“Anyone who wants to help gang-bang Lindsay Lohan see me in my office immediately” That gym was completely empty in 15 seconds.

“There were girls lining up who like, come to the Spa just to really work out. We finally decided to draw lots before a major catfight broke out.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get to the bottom of this. Now relax and let’s have some therapeutic sex.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As someone whose job involved the shape of the human body, Tracy was intrigued as Lindsay Lohan made her way into her office. She had never seen a living skeleton before.
The yellow sundress hung like a towel on a rack as there were no curves for it to cling to. Lindsay extended a bony hand as Tracy motioned her to sit at the table in the middle of her office.

Tara had talked Lindsay into coming to the Spa for lunch and thank Tracy for her nice ‘birthday present’.

The Spa commissary only had the healthiest foods but for this occasion Tracy had ordered from a fast-food joint and a plate of cheeseburgers and fries awaited Lindsay, who had gone from barely-legal to barely there.

Lindsay simply looked at the calorie-loaded meal set for her as she sat down, gave a little grimace and then reached over and plucked a couple of lettuce leaves off Tracy’s plate and plunked them down on top of hers.

“That will be enough for me,” said Lindsay. “I’m low-maintenance now, thanks to my new trainer. After eating this I’ll probably skip dinner.”

A mouse would starve on what Lindsay was taking in, thought Tracy.

“Your choice Lindsay, after all, you’re not a member here, we’re just friends having lunch,” said Tracy as she poured a brown liquid from a pitcher into Lindsay’s glass. For some reason, Tracy had her own same-colored pitcher next to her.
“It’s nothing personal Tracy,” said Lindsay as she gulped down the sweet-tasting liquid. “I did enjoy that day. It’s just that I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. With my parents problems, I’m pretty much on my own and I’ve been maturing and becoming my own person.

“I like being thin, and blonde and I’m done with my freckles. And I like guys, particularly my trainer, Raoul. We’re dating and I am very devoted to him but if I did like girls I’d do you in a second Tracy, honest.”

“Don’t worry about it Lindsay, I have plenty of girls who still want to have sex with me,” said Tracy as she got up and turned the soothing New Age music playing on the stereo up a bit. “Lets just have a nice meal.”

They chatted amiably as the two dedicated party animals both had a lot of interesting stories to trade (“She was passed out at 3? well by 5 a.m. when I came she was up and ready for action.”). Lindsay took an occasional bite of a lettuce leaf and relaxed.
She really did like Tracy, Lindsay thought. “If I was still into girls I’d do her but now I have Raoul. She is so hot, her body is so perfect she has to get a lot of action. And you know she has to be good in bed, really good. And she is such a nice person too. So good-looking, so nice, so good in bed.”

Tracy looked at Lindsay and saw she was getting a bit of a spaced out look. The drink filled with mind relaxants was doing its trick and the subliminally laced music that told Lindsay how great Tracy was, and how hot her body was and how great in bed also seemed to be working its way into Lohan’s head as well.

It was time Tracy decided to make Lindsay fully loaded with hypnotic tricks.
Tracy went over to her desk and brought back a pretty gold necklace that said “WMHS” at the bottom and then dangled it in front of Lindsay who just sat there with a little smile on her face.

“I know you won’t be a member but as a belated birthday gift I want you to have this,” said Tracy.

Lindsay was half out of it by now and just looked blankly at the necklace, which was several inches from her eyes. Tracy jiggled it a bit and the bottom of the necklace began to swing a bit and the reflection from the light that hit it bounced into Lindsay’s eyes.

“Look at the WMHS part of the necklace Lindsay. Isn’t it pretty. Look at it as it goes back and forth, back and forth. It’s so much fun to watch it go back and forth, back and forth. So relaxing, so peaceful. Keep watching Lindsay, even though you feel very tired. Happy but very relaxed.

“Why not close your tired, tired eyes Lindsay. So tired, so peaceful, so happy. Close your eyes now. That’s it.”

Lindsay’s eyelids briefly fluttered before shutting. Tracy looked at what little chest Lohan had and saw her breasts were going up and down in a rhythmic fashion. She was out cold.

“Lindsay, remain in this wonderful asleep but can you hear me?”

“Yes…..Tracy,” said Lindsay in a barely audible monotone.
“OK great, remember Lindsay I’m your friend, I would never hurt you,” said Tracy as she got right up to Lindsay, seeing up close that her body was like a human pipe cleaner.

“I will ask you questions and you will answer them honestly and I will ask you to do things and you will do them exactly as I order. Got it?”

“As you order…I will do,” breathed Lindsay.
Not much willpower, thought Tracy, maybe she lost that when she lost half her body weight.

“OK Lindsay what is the deal with the weight loss,” said Tracy.

“It is the will of the Goddess Hilary,” said Lindsay softly. “I am a loyal follower of the Goddess. Food is the enemy of all followers. Every bite of food is an insult to her and I worship her and I am a loyal follower.”

What the F---?, thought Tracy.

“Goddess Hilary? who the heck is she and how did you get hooked up with her?” asked Tracy.

“Mortals know her as Hilary Duff but she lives inside all of us,” said Lindsay, who then gave a sigh. “When I was in the hospital with exhaustion, Raoul would come to my room every night alone. He is a seer for Goddess Hilary and he showed me for hours the glowing ball of truth and by the end of my stay I knew I was one with the Goddess.

“I hired Raoul as my personal trainer when I got out and he is my exclusive lover as well, per orders of Goddess Hilary.”

“So you can’t have sex with me or any other women?” said Tracy.

“I have sex only with Raoul and Goddess Hilary, who has the form of a woman but is a much higher being,” said Lindsay.

“Lindsay, look I’m your friend,” said Tracy who hoped the truth would truly set Lindsay free from this spell she had been put under. “Hilary Duff hates you, she is your enemy. She’s not a goddess, she’s a bitter girl because you stole her boyfriend and your career is doing better than her’s.
“She must have hooked up with this Raoul guy who knows hypnosis and when you were vulnerable in the hospital he took advantage of you and hypnotized you to believe this Goddess Hilary bull.
“Think about it Lindsay, and you’ll see the idea of Hilary Duff being a Goddess and eating food being against her wishes is simply ridiculous. She’s just trying to ruin your career, and health, and it will work if you don’t pull yourself together soon.”
Lindsay twitched her nose and mouth for a while.
“You’re right Tracy! I was a fool. Hilary Duff is such a bitch. I’ll get her. Now where is that burger and fries – and I want a milk shake too. My big boobs are coming back and my tongue is ready to lick.”

“Awesome Lindsay, I am so proud of your strong will, you broke that deep hypnosis really, really quickly,” said Tracy beaming. “At the count of three you will wake up and remember everything we just talked about and feel really good about yourself.

“1---2---3”
Lindsay blinked her eyes a lot and then smiled at Tracy.

“Thanks a bunch for helping me Tracy, can we eat lunch now? I have a lot of eating to make up for,” said Lindsay smiling.
The pair began chowing down, at least Tracy did as she attacked her salad but Lindsay just munched on a lettuce leaf as she riffled through her purse.

“What’s up Lindsay, I thought you were hungry, for food and pussy,” asked Tracy.

Lindsay looked up from her purse and smiled.

“Tracy, have you ever heard of a ‘sub routine’.”

“Well sure, in computers that’s when your think you’ve changed something but they have a fail-safe layered underneath that kicks in to have it go back to the original programming,” said Tracy who then realized what Lindsay’s question meant. “Oh, shit.”

“Yup, my sub routine is alive and kicking,” said Lindsay who then raised a small aerosol can to Tracy’s face and began spraying her with what Tracy could instantly tell was knockout gas.

Tracy kicked her chair away from the table. Lindsay quickly got up and kept spraying the noxious fumes in Tracy’s face. So unexpected was this attack all Tracy could attempt as a defense was to wave her arms in front of her face and try and redirect the gas away from her.
But it was no use, within a few seconds Tracy’s arms fell limply to her sides. Lindsay went in for the coup de `grace and began spraying mere inches from Tracy’s now slackened face.
Soon, Tracy’s eyes closed and her head pitched to the side. Her limp body then crumpled off the chair and Tracy laid sprawled on the shag carpeting of her office.
Lindsay watched Tracy’s large breasts go up and down in a steady fashion as she breathed shallowly. The show was even better than expected, as during the fall Tracy’s tiny bra top had gotten caught on the chair and lifted off her chest and now just hung on her neck, leaving her breasts totally bare.

“Nice rack,” said Lindsay as she looked down on her unconscious former sex partner. “You now know too much and must be made a slave to the Goddess. You will make a fine disciple. Goddess Hilary will be pleased. I will take you to Raoul for your
‘initiation’.”

Lindsay now pondered her problem on how to get Tracy into her car to be delivered for programming.

She had been no 90-pound weakling growing up, before she hit it big in show business she had played a lot of sports like basketball, soccer and roller skating.

But thanks to starving herself, she literally was 90-pounds now and Tracy was 5-foot-10 and solid muscle, way too much for her to carry all the way to the parking lot.
Lindsay decided to lift Tracy’s body onto a chair and then wheel her out. If anyone asked, she would just say it was part of a sex game, no one would question that.
She gripped one arm around Tracy’s shoulder as she bent down and the other arm tried to go inbetween her legs to pull her up. However, Lindsay had not been looking carefully and the arm ended up going underneath Tracy’s thong and her hand ended up right in Tracy’s pussy, which was sopping wet.

Lindsay discovered since there was so little meat on her bones that her hand was now so thin she could actually fist Tracy’s pussy with room to spare. The thought delighted and scared her a bit, that she was this frail frankly troubled her even though Goddess Hilary had told her she looked much better than before and should lose even more weight.
Lindsay instinctively took great pleasure fisting Tracy and feel her juices on her hand.
Lindsay had been distracted when she tried to collect Tracy because when she went down on her knees, her face had ended up directly over Tracy’s wondrous chest.

Lindsay reflexively licked her lips at the sight of them. They were so large but very firm yet creamy soft, and the bright pink areolas begged to be licked – much like her own breasts used to be Lindsay realized.
Lindsay dipped her head and wrapped her lips around one of the luscious hooters and began sucking and licking at the nipple. She continued to fist Tracy’s pussy and shortly Lindsay heard Tracy give a soft moan.

“Even knocked out you like having sex,” thought Lindsay who continued her assault on Tracy’s boobs with her mouth and fisting her furiously.

Lindsay’s breath became ragged as she could feel herself getting real turned on having sex with Tracy’s unconscious body.

That started a war in Lindsay’s now tortured mind.

“I can’t have sex with Tracy, only Raoul and Goddess Hilary, this is wrong,” thought Lindsay who did not let up for an instant while she debated. “But I love having sex with Tracy, even when she’s asleep. I can’t stop. I won’t.”
Lindsay then remembered that while walking to Tracy’s office she had passed by the gym and two of the girls she had sex with at her birthday party had seen her and given her a friendly wave.
Lindsay knew she wanted to have sex with them again as well. Hell, all the girls she noticed in the Spa, most wearing revealing Lycra tube tops and tiny shorts, had all looked appealing to her.
She wanted to have sex with them all! She didn’t want to worship Hilary Duff or date Raoul. She wanted to lie in Tracy’s bed and spread her legs and have an unending stream of hot women lick her up and down while she had orgasms galore and be a complete lesbian slut.
Tracy’s moans were becoming louder and Lindsay concentrated on bringing her off. It was the least she could do, she figured, after what she had done to her.
Tracy’s hips suddenly went into the air and Lindsay’s bony hand could feel itself now engulfed in fluid as she withdrew it.
The orgasm brought Tracy out of her sleep as her eyes began blinking.

“Wha…what happened Lindsay, I feel weird, so tired,” said Tracy groggily. “I can’t remember a thing. Like my head is in a fog.”

“Simple you airhead, we talked about my problems, solved them, and now we’re having sex,” said Lindsay brightly as she finally unwrapped her lips from Tracy’s areola. “You said you were tired and wanted to take a nap but said feel free to have sex with your body – so I did. You just orgasmed.”

Tracy could feel the wetness in her thong and the familiar euphoric feeling she got after orgasming. She did remember Lindsay had some problems and she had worked it out with her, although she had no idea what they were or how she did it, as the chloroform had erased almost all of her short term memory.

“Oh, OK, thanks,” said Tracy. “So, you’re all set, on the straight and narrow.”
Lindsay laughed as she helped the wobbly Tracy up.

“Well, I’m all set,” she said. “But you did not exactly make me ‘straight’ and I won’t be narrow for long as I intend to eat a lot from now on – particularly pussy.”

“Breakfast of champions as far as I’m concerned,” said Tracy with a smile.

“Now, Tara told me a while ago I should ask for the Executive Gold Membership, that way I’ll have access to every part of the Spa, and hopefully all the women,” said Lindsay.

“I’ll have my secretary get the papers ready for that,” said Tracy who then winked. “Well, now that you’ll be a member, I guess you’d like to meet the membership.”

“Absolutely!,” said Lindsay enthusiastically.

Tracy peeled off her soaked thong and whipped the bra top off of her neck and was now completely naked. She then went to the front door of her office and leaned out.

“Hey, anyone who wants to have sex with Lindsay Lohan right now come to my office,” she shouted.

Lindsay for a second thought there might be an elephant stampede outside the building, so loud was the sound of feet pounding in her direction.

[Nab]

Letdowwwwwwwwn

I couldn't believe my friends had actually dragged me to a stage-hypnotist show! I hadn't dared to tell any of them this, but I'd always been terrified of hypnosis, ever since I was a little girl watching Daphne get entranced by that evil clown on Scooby Doo. He made her ride around on a unicycle, in tights and everything! I never wanted something like that to happen to me, so I've always steered clear of hypnotists, watches, clowns, unicycles, and anything that involves relaxing or concentration of any kind!

But here I was, sitting at a table in a slinky dress I'd bought for Karen's wedding reception, in a dark, smoky little club somewhere downtown. The girls were all at the table with me: Karen, Phoebe, Melissa, Cindi, and Tamiqua. We were all Karen's bridesmaids, and I was her maid of honour, so how could I refuse? I couldn't! And now I just knew we were all going to get hypnotized and turned into mindless zombie sex slaves!

The hypnotist was named Madame Hypnoerotique - I guess she must have been French - and you should have seen her! She practically oozed erotic, hypnotic seduction through every sensual pore, although I don't know how anything oozed sensually through her pores at all with the shiny black latex catsuit she was wearing! She also had sexy thigh-high boots with erotic six-inch spike heels, sensual fishnet stockings with garters, and her compelling, long black hair was styled in silkily-cascading waves down her shapely back.

We were sitting right near the stage and I could see how beautiful Madame's hypnotic blue eyes were. I knew anyone who looked into her entrancing, mesmerizingly-erotic eyes would never be able to resist. She also had a big, hypnotic crystal pendant dangling between her impossibly beautiful and perfect breasts - which I bet were made from the same stuff as her outfit - and I was just sure she would delicately pluck the irresistible pendant from her sensual cleavage with her long, shiny black fingernails and dangle it back and forth in front of our eyes, and we'd all get very sleepy and forget everything we knew! The sensuous, seductive theme music started to play and I was shivering in my chair, terrified!

The lights dimmed even further as Madame, centered in a blinding spotlight, began to soothe the audience with her spellbinding voice. She asked for volunteers, coaxing us with her long, elegant hypnotic fingers, and, before I knew it, Karen, Phoebe, Melissa, Cindi, and Tamiqua were all on stage! They looked so pretty and vulnerable in their sparkly, sexy dresses, my heart almost stopped at the thought of them falling irresistibly under Madame's hypnotic power! The lights turned a deep, sleepy blue colour now as she descended on my friends, bending low to them and transfixing them with the hypnotic pendant swaying between her mesmerizing breasts as she spoke:

"Look closely at my pendant. Look deeeeeeply into its centerrr . . ."

She drew out her erotically-captivating words so seductively, I knew there was no way my friends would be able to resist!

"Watch it sssswing so gently baaaack and forrrrth, you musssst look deeeeeeeeper . . ."

I couldn't see the sensually-erotic pendant or her perfect, hypnotic breasts from where I was, but I could just imagine how deep and hypnotically-arousing her magical gem would be. My friends' faces were becoming blank and their eyes looked sleepy as they followed Madame's gem back and forth, just like she commanded in that drawling, sexy hypnotist's voice!

"You are all soooo sleeeeeepy, you musssst close your eyes and fall deeeeeeply into my hypnotic control . . ."

Karen and Cindi were already slumped in their chairs and the other girls were swaying, their lips parted, eyes heavy. They looked so relaxed and ready to surrender to Madame's erotic power that I felt like getting up from the table and just running away! But I couldn't move or look away from the stage, even to take a drink of water - my mouth was so dry! Was I being hypnotized, too? I struggled to resist the soothing, brainwashing power of Madame's irresistibly hypnotic voice!

"Now you are all deeeeeeply asleeeeeep, deeeeeeply hypnotized, and completely under my irresistible hypnotic control. You musssst obey your Madame, my deleeeeeectable, heeeepnotized petssssss. Now, yoooo must sssstaaaand up, and begin to strip for Madaaaame! Stand, my sexy, hypnotiiiizzed strippers, and feeeeeel your hidden erooooootic desire for one another begin to growwww as you shimmy oooout of your tight, sexy dresses!"

I gaped at the sensually-erotic sight on the stage - I couldn't believe it! My friends were all hypnotized, just the way I always feared, and they were swaying sleepily and starting to strip, just like Madame said. They were her totally-hypnotized puppets! I leaned forward in my chair, shaking as I imagined what else she would make them do. I heard myself gasp as Tamiqua and Candi started rubbing their almost-naked bodies together, fingers tracing along the lacy lines of their panties, and making out passionately! They'd always been totally straight, just like me, and not sexually attracted to girls at all, but after just a minute under Madame's irresistible hypnotic spell they were ready to go down on each other like hot, wet, lesbian sluts! It was all too horrible to watch!

Now Madame commanded my hypnotized and totally-controlled friends to engage in a mindlessly-enslaved lesbian orgy! I wrapped my arms around myself tightly as I watched them helplessly begin to lick, suck, kiss, and fondle each other's lusciously nude and curvaceously-sensual bodies. Their slick, naked vaginae glistened erotically under the stage lights as Candi and Phoebe wrapped around each other in a sixty-nine while Melissa licked Candi's ass and Karen teased Phoebe's erect nipples with her tongue while Tamiqua fingered her and played with her clit!

I spilled some water on my breasts to shock myself out of this horrified stupor and try to calm my heaving, terrified breathing. I was just trying to remember the layout of the club so I could plan my escape when Madame turned away from her deeply-entranced lovedolls and fixed me with her electrifyingly-hypnotic gaze! I could barely hear her seductive whisper as she coaxed me up on stage, and the next thing I knew I was standing in the sensually-erotic spotlight with her, my helpless, horny girlfriends writhing in Sapphic ecstasy all around us. Madame took my face in her soft, delicately-hypnotic hands and began to massage my temples as she commanded me to look deeply into the mesmerizing crystal nestled between her impossibly beautiful and unbelievably perfect breasts. I began to feel light-headed as my eyes became wide and helplessly fixed on the gem glittering between her softly inviting breasts, and I knew I would soon be a hypnotized, lesbian sex-zombie just like Karen, Phoebe, Melissa, Cindi, and Tamiqua!

I could feel Madame's power flowing over me in waves of mind-warping hypnotic control, but when she snapped her sensual fingers and ordered me to kneel at her sexy, leather-clad feet in sexual submission, I just didn't really feel anything. She snapped her fingers again, and hissed "Ssssssleeeeeep!" in her bewitching and irresistibly-hypnotic voice, but I didn't really feel sleepy, horny, or submissive. Looking a little annoyed, Madame gently pushed me back towards my seat, and got another girl from the audience to come up on stage and join my friends in my place as Madame's naked, hypnotized pet!


I lay back on the soft, relaxing brown leather sofa of Doctor Svengal's office as I described the above encounter to him. He sat back in his chair and sensually stroked his sinister black goatee as he considered my situation. I told him that, after a close call like that, I was certain I'd fall prey pretty soon to some sexy, unscrupulous hypnotist, and that I'd come to his hypnotherapy practice to learn how to resist becoming the mindless, brainwashed love slave of an erotically-evil mind-controller. He let his pocket watch dangle arousingly back and forth as he leaned forward, and I kept my eyes locked closely on its polished gold surface, so I'd know the second that he tried something tricky. My body tensed on the relaxing, sensually-comfortable leather sofa as he began to speak in his soothing, compellingly-hypnotic voice:

"I'm not reeeeally sure that hypnoooosis is the answer to your problem, missss. You sssseeee, it ssssounds as though you reeeeeeally desire quite sssstroooongly to be hypnotized in the manner that you ssssuggest, but I assuuuure you that ssssort of thing is quite firrrrrrmly in the realm of faaaantasssssseeee, and I am a rrrreputable therapeutic prrrraaaaaactitionerrrrrrrr . . ."

I felt myself going limp as I watched the doctor put away his entrancingly shiny pocket-watch and listened to his deep, controlling hypnotist's voice. I weakly whispered that he wouldn't get me under his control that easily, and I looked carefully up at his deep, dark eyes with as much defiance as I could muster! He took my hand in his and gently helped me up from the couch, and I found myself unable to tear my gaze away from his controlling, hypnotic eyes as he politely asked me to leave his office!


I was sitting in one of the plush, comfortable chairs in Doctor Svengal's waiting room, searching through my purse and muttering in frustration, when his busty, red-headed secretary strutted in from the powder room. She was wearing a sensual, low-cut jacket that barely closed over her half-unbuttoned blouse, lacy black bra, and beautiful, perfect breasts, and her tiny, sexy skirt showed off all of her long, shapely legs, covered in smooth, shiny hose, and her ridiculously tall, sensuously-erotic open-toed heels! She took a seat at her sexy, wooden desk and smiled at me, her deep, mesmerizing green eyes twinkling behind the dark frames of her glasses, and asked in a sweet, soothing, seductive, and sexually-suggestive voice if I would like to make another appointment. I told her that wouldn't be necessary, cautiously glancing away from her eyes and letting my gaze rest on her beautiful, perfect breasts swelling in the tight confines of their sexy bra. My spine tingled with alarm as she ran her long, carefully-painted nails along the edge of her jacket, slowly - and sensually - undoing one button and then another, revealing more of her deliciously-hypnotic breasts, beginning to heave in their tight, lacy bra as her arousal began to increase.

Reluctantly, I tore my eyes away from her sensual cleavage and found myself looking deeply into her entrancing, hypnotic, erotically-compelling eyes as she slowly removed her sexy glasses and seductively began to let down her lustrous, curly red hair. The tip of her tongue erotically moistened her lower lip, and I gaped at her shapely, shiny pink mouth as her sweet, sexy voice began to moan in erotically-sexual desire and call for me with promises of sweet, forbidden lust.

I rose sensually from my chair and floated towards her desk, unable to pull my eyes from her impossibly luscious body, and I felt my legs tremble as irresistible sexual arousal coursed through my veins and my loins began to pulse with unstoppable need for the erotically-spellbinding creature that was starting to crawl over her desk to meet me! In a moment I was helplessly encircled in her arms, gazing deeply into the hypnotic emerald pools of her eyes, her hands working at my blouse and bra to free my breasts while my nipples became painfully erect in horribly-aroused anticipation!

And that's when I realized: I can't be hypnotized! But I can control minds!

[flibinite]

Well, I started this contest of Joe's with an unanonymous story, so maybe it's kismet that I perhaps end it with one.  I turned it into Nab last night, he helped me change a couple of "English" things, I sent it back, but he never got around to posting it.  And I can't wait any longer (sorry, Nab).  I sat down and wrote this yesterday, after deciding I wasn't going to write it about three weeks ago... oh well.  It's not terrifically funny, but hopefully anyone of you who reads it, or Joe, will find it sort of cute...

********

Comeuppance

Lord Harrison Hawthorne, 2nd Lord of Epping, slowly awoke from what had seemed to be a dreamless sleep.  He stretched his arms over his head, feeling rather well, despite having had too much to drink at last night's party.  He realized he had let himself go a little more than normal.

But after all, one only turned 58 once in one's life.

He glanced over at the clock on his nightside table and saw that it was already 10:30... much later than he would normally get up.  However, it was Saturday morning, so there was no need for him to head into the city for his job with the Ministry of Regional Jurisprudence and Car Park Legislation.  No, it was okay if he just languished a bit this morning, and took his time before going down to see if Bankington could throw together a late breakfast for him.

He climbed out of bed, barefoot and in his pajamas, and stretched again, remembering last night's party.  It had been a major soirée, attended by almost all his friends, other members of the government, and people of renown from all over the Continent.  It had all cost him a pretty penny, but he was glad he had allowed Bankington to talk him into such an affair, as it had all come off rather splendidly.  Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, and not too many of them accosted him about his "increasing" age.

As he padded off to the master bathroom for his morning ablutions, Lord Harrison took stock of himself and his life. 

At 58, he still didn't feel all that old, in reasonable shape for his age, still working out at his exclusive Covent Garden gymnasium whenever he got the opportunity.  He had lots of friends and close acquaintances, but was still missing Margie, his wife of 30 years, who had died in an automobile accident six years earlier. 

His personal and sexual life had seemed to die along with her, and despite Bankington's constant pushing in that area, he did not see that changing overly much in the near future.

Lord Harrison finished brushing his teeth, and frowned at his reflection.  He knew he wasn't without a certain attractiveness to females, and it wasn't as if he was still determined to be faithful to his dead wife.  It was simply that since Lady Margaret had died, he no longer felt the urge for anything sexual.  His large house had been full of wonderfully attractive women of all ages last night, and even though he had been drinking, his normal reserve somewhat diminished, he still had not found himself being tempted at all, by any of them.

Perhaps I should take the plunge and visit a psychiatrist, he thought, turning away from himself and heading back into the bedroom. 

He slid on his slippers and a light bathrobe, and then headed out and down the hallway for the kitchen.  He'd eat first, consider his options for the rest of the day, and then come back up and change into the appropriate attire.

Lord Harrison was halfway down the hallway, just preparing to call out to his butler, when he heard it.

He stopped, unsure of what the noise had been.  He waited and listened, holding his breath a bit so as not to mask the soft sound if it should occur again. 

And there it was... it was a cross between a sigh and a soft moan, definitely human in origin, and seeming to come through the door of the guest bedroom to his left.  This confused him, as, to the best of his knowledge, he had not invited any of his guests to stay over last night.  Bankington had his own bedroom downstairs, just off the kitchen, so it couldn't be him, either.

Curious, his heart beating a bit faster, Lord Harrison moved to the door and turned the knob.  It wasn't locked, so he pushed it open slowly, and peered inside.  The room wasn't dark, as the morning sun, shining through the windows, was more than a match for the light drapes that covered them.  So he stepped fully inside and looked around, becoming instantly aware of who had been making those sounds.

Lying there on the bed, covered only from the waist downward, was a young woman.

An attractive young woman...

A naked, softly moaning, attractive young woman...

She had blonde hair, pretty features, and appeared to be in her mid-twenties.  One hand, and its well-manicured set of fingers, were above the covers and lightly stroking one of the lady's rather generous endowments.  Lord Harrison had no idea who she was, but felt she looked familiar. 

Probably one of my guests from last night, he thought.

He listened, and watched her rather sensuous movements for a minute, then turned and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him.  He walked briskly to the head of the stairs, leaned over the railing, and half-whispered, half-shouted...

"Bankington!"

A few seconds later, his butler appeared at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at him quizzically.

"You hissed, sir?"

"Yes.  Get up here, Bankington.  I have something I want you to see."

"Very good, sir," Bankington replied, heading up the stairs.  When he reached Lord Harrison, he said, "What seems to be the problem, sir?"

"Just come with me and I'll show you," Lord Harrison said, turning and leading the way back to the guest bedroom.

When they reached the door, he opened it and ushered Bankington inside.  They stood there watching the woman on the bed for a few moments before Lord Harrison said, "I don't know who she is, but she's very attractive, isn't she?"

"Yes, very attractive, sir," Bankington agreed.  "One of yours?"
 
"Don't be impudent, Bankington.  You know full well I haven't had one of 'mine' in seven years, now."

"So you didn't...?"

"No..."

"Pity."

"Yes... quite," Lord Harrison sighed.  "Do you have any idea who she is?"

"I know she was at the party last night," Bankington replied, his eyes never leaving the woman on the bed, "but I have no idea what her name is."

"Her name is Joanna," said a soft, sultry voice off to their left.

Both men turned to look, and both men saw another naked, attractive woman leaning against the doorframe of the guest bathroom.  She was decidedly older than the woman on the bed, though still younger than they, and rather startlingly beautiful.  Lord Harrison thought she looked even more familiar, but once again couldn't put a name with the face.

She was a stunner, though... tall, with long, jet black hair, bright green eyes, and with a wide array of truly elegant curves and gentle angles.

"I take it she's not one of yours, either, sir?"  Bankington said, his voice slightly higher pitched then normal.

"Shut up, Bankington," Lord Harrison said through tight lips.  "Do you know who she is?"

"Yes, sir.  I think she's that famous French stage hypnotist that we invited to the party.  Madame Creosote, I think."

"That's Madame Creolatte... like the espresso drink," the woman said with a small smile.  She walked slowly and seductively into the room to go stand next to the bed. 

"You must forgive Joanna and me for taking such advantage of your kind hospitality, Lord Harrison."  She reached down to lightly stroke the hair of the sleeping young woman.  "It appears that the two of us indulged too heavily in all the fine wines that you proffered to your guests last night.  I know I tried to prevent myself from becoming too inebriated on them, but I seemed to get even more tipsy after I switched to the punch."

Lord Harrison turned to his butler, frowning.  "Bankington... did you spike the punch again?  You know what I've told you about that!"

"My apologies, sir.  I was only trying to liven up the party a bit."

"That's always your excuse, Bankington.  I've told you that my parties are 'live' enough without you constantly dumping rum in the punch!"

"Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir.  It shan't happen again."

"That's what you always say, too."  Lord Harrison sighed and turned back to Madame Creolatte.  "My apologies, Madame.  As you can see, it's hard to get good help these days."

Madame Creolatte simply laughed.  "Oh nonsense -- and please call me Corina.  I know for a fact that Bankington has been with you for decades, and you'd probably be completely lost without him to run your household."

"Thank you, Madame.  It is nice to know that someone appreciates the work I do around here," Bankington said with a small bow.

"Oh, stop preening, Bankington.  Consider yourself duly appreciated.  I simply wish that you would listen to me once in awhile, instead of doing practically whatever you please."

"Very good, sir."

Corina was laughing again.  "You two are priceless," she said.  "Also charming and handsome.  However, it is I who must apologize again for allowing Joanna and myself to get so carried away last night, drunk or no.  Against my better judgment, I let Joanna's rather forward and bohemian nature get the better of me, and allowed her drag me upstairs to this bedroom to, um... sleep.  I should have remained more in control of the situation and myself, but she was very insistent."

Lord Harrison didn't believe for a moment that all the two women had done was sleep, as the air around him still seemed somewhat redolent with the scents of other activities.  But he was bound and determined to be a good host, considering that all-in-all, no harm had been done by the women's overnight tryst.

"That's quite all right, Madame, er... Corina.  I'm simply glad that both of you appeared to have a good time at my party.  Perhaps the two of you would like some breakfast before you go?"

"You are far too kind, Lord Harrison, and I feel that Joanna and I should be more than willing to make our indiscretions up to you,"  Corina said, a sly smile on her face.  She started playing one hand up and down along her side and hip.  "I'm sure that neither she nor I would mind repaying you in any way that you so desire.  In fact, it would be our pleasure."

More than slightly taken aback by Corina's comments, and the "intriguing" nature of her slight French accent, Lord Harrison still managed to say, "No, no.  No such repayment is required.  While you two are still my guests, my home is yours."

None of them noticed that Joanna had awoken, until they heard her say, "Ohhh, Corina... what happened to me, to us, last night?  And who are these two distinguished-looking gentlemen standing here staring at us?"

Corina reached down to stroke Joanna's hair again.  "Good morning, Joanna.  This is Lord Harrison and his butler, Bankington.  I was just explaining to them how we both got drunk last night and how you dragged me up here to... sleep."

Lord Harrison was surprised to see the somewhat confused look on Joanna's face as she replied, "Dragged you?  Boy, I really must have had too much to drink, as all I remember is that we were chatting, and the next thing I knew we were up here on this bed, wildly, er... sleeping."

Lord Harrison could tell from Joanna's accent that she was American, and actually found it quite charming the way the younger woman suddenly realized the state she was in and raised the sheets up to cover herself.

"Well, you did drag me up here, dear.  You seemed so very dominant and demanding that I simply couldn't resist your seductive blandishments."  Corina said that with another small laugh, obviously enjoying herself immensely.

"I... I just don't remember anything like that, Corina," Joanna whispered, blushing furiously.

"Well, let me remind you then," Corina said, leaning down to whisper something in the reclining woman's ear.

Lord Harrison couldn't hear what was said, but whatever it was, it seemed to have a startling effect on Joanna.  Suddenly, instead of looking confused and embarrassed, her face became one of feral desire and strength. 

It was a stunning transformation, and he was even more shocked when Joanna sat up and threw back the covers, completely exposing her naked body.  Then she reached out to grab the leaning Corina by the hair and pull her into a deeply passionate kiss.

So much for... sleeping, he thought.

He watched as the kiss went on and on, both women’s tongues obviously getting a major workout.  Finally, he coughed politely, not wanting to seem rude, but thinking that this was all just a little too much.

Joanna practically threw Corina's head away from hers, and smiled at the two men.  "I'm so sorry, Harry.  You and Corina were saying...?"

Corina stood there, flushed, but smiling, and said, “I was just telling Lord Harrison that you and I would be glad to repay him for allowing us use of his guest bedroom last night.  I was telling him that I was sure we could come up with something appropriate for the liberties we took with his kind hospitality."

"And I was telling Corina that no such thing was necessary, Joanna," Lord Harrison added hastily.  "You are both my guests, and none of us had any way of knowing that Bankington had 'tampered' with the punch." 

He ignored his butler's resulting coughing fit.

"Oh, but Harry... I insist that Corina and I make amends," Joanna said seductively, running her tongue over her lips.  "And I know exactly the proper reward to give two such strong and virile men as yourself and Bankington."

Her intentions obvious, Lord Harrison shook his head.  "No, nothing like that is necessary; and I mean that."

But Joanna with shaking her head, too.  "Now you're just going all shy and dignified on me, Harry.  Or is it perhaps that you don't find the two of us enticing enough?"  She turned on the bed, spreading her legs wide and draping them over the side.  "Perhaps you need a bit more... stimulation?"

"What are you doing, young lady?" Lord Harrison said, not sure he liked where this seemed to be heading.

"Just watch," Joanna said.  She pointed between her legs, looked at Corina and said, "Kneel and lick me, my pussy lover!"

Corina's smile was quickly replaced with that same look of feral desire, as she dropped to her knees between Joanna's legs and pressed her face into the younger woman's sex.  What followed were the unmistakably wet sounds of licking, and the soft moans of two women.

Bankington was coughing again, and Lord Harrison didn't have the slightest idea of what to say or do, when Joanna turned to him, and with slightly lidded eyes, said, "Does this turn you on, Harry?  Do you like to watch one woman eating another's hot, wet snatch?"

As the sounds of said eating continued, Lord Harrison continued to struggle with what he should say, what he should do about the alarmingly erotic scene playing out in front of his eyes.  So far, he wasn't doing too well.

"I... I don't... I mean... Joanna... please..."

"What?  Are we getting to you, Harry?  Are you feeling it?  Are you getting a totem?  A chubby?  Is Mr. Cuntweasel looking to make the rounds?"

"Mr. Cuntweasel?"

Bankington leaned over and whispered, "I think she means your, um... your thing..." he finished, with a flustered wave in the general direction of Lord Harrison's crotch.

"You can say 'penis', Bankington.  I am an adult, you know."

"Sorry, sir.  I think she was talking about your penis."

"I knew that, you dolt.  It's just I had promised Margie, god rest her soul, that no one but her would ever be allowed to utter the words, 'Mr. Cuntweasel', in this house."

Bankington's eyes went wide for a moment, then he smiled.  "Very good, sir."

"Shut up, Bankington."

"Very good, sir."

"Over here, boys," Joanna called out.  "You're missing the... uhhh... floor show."

The two men turned back to where Corina was kneeling and continuing to minister to Joanna's sex.  Joanna's legs were spread even wider, if that were possible, and the sounds of Corina's licking and sucking had become even louder, more liquid-sounding, more arousing.  The lingering scent in the room was also becoming stronger, as was the general air of lust and debauchery.

And, almost loathe to admit it, Lord Harrison could feel something stirring inside him, for the first time in such a long time. 

Both women seemed so excited by what they were doing, yet so nonchalant about their nakedness and wanton display of sexuality.  They were both so beautiful, their bodies shining, looking almost oiled as the sunlight played over the sheen of sweat covering them.  He glanced over at Bankington for a moment, noticing that same "glow" on his face as he stared in rapt attention at the panting, writhing women.

"Do you find this arousing, Bankington?" Lord Harrison whispered.

"I've moved from 'chubby' to 'obese' here, sir, if that answers your question."

Lord Harrison couldn't help but laugh a little at that.  "It does, yes," he said, then turned back to the women as Joanna let out a particularly guttural moan.  While he wouldn't go so far as his butler, Lord Harrison realized he was starting to gain just a "bit of weight" himself.

"Oh yesss... right there... eat me, you bitch.  Lick my clitty... uhhhh... yess, oh fuck!" Joanna cried, tossing her head and raising her hips to grind and hump her pussy all over Corina's face.  She turned her head to stare at the men, her eyes now totally glazed and glistening with heat.

"We're both gonna... ohhh... be... be so wet and cummy for you guys... so ready for a... hot meat infusion," she rasped.

"Hot meat infusion?!"

"Sir... I think she means--"

"Nevermind, Bankington.  I know what she means," Lord Harrison barked.  Then he softened his tone, knowing that his butler (and friend) was just as much at a loss to deal with this as he was.  "Would you want to 'infuse' one of them?"

"Sorry, sir, but it's rapidly approaching the need category for me... not want.  I'm starting to die, here.  This is the most arousing thing I've ever seen."  For the first time since this started, Bankington turned to his "boss", a look of concern on his face.  "Don't you feel anything from this, sir?"

Lord Harrison allowed himself a reassuring smile.  "I do, Bankington.  I must admit that I'm starting to feel something."

Then both of them were turning to watch again, as Joanna began to gasp and squeal, her hips working even faster as an orgasm obviously began to overwhelm her.  Her legs weren't spread wide now, though.  They were clamped tightly around the head of a moaning Corina.

"Yes... definitely something," Lord Harrison murmured as he watched Joanna jerk and arch in erotic pleasure.

When she finally finished, the young blonde opened her legs and fell backward onto the bed, panting and smiling.  "That was excellent, you slutty little cunt-licker," she said, not moving as Corina used the insides of Joanna's thighs to wipe some of the moisture from her face and mouth.

"Thank you, Joanna darling," Corina said, rising to her feet.  She stared down at her partner, giving her a rather wicked smile before she said, "But now I must say... sequential retreat."

Lord Harrison and Bankington looked at each other, the butler mouthing, "Sequential retreat?"  Lord Harrison shook his head, not understanding for certain either, but starting to get a vague suspicion.  When he turned to look at the women again, and saw Joanna climbing off the bed to kneel in front of Corina, then say breathlessly, "How may I please you, Mistress Creolatte?", his vague suspicion moved a lot closer to a certainty.

"You've hypnotized her, haven't you Corina?" he said, somewhat in awe.

"That’s correct, Harry.  I hope you don't mind if I call you Harry, too, as I didn't hear any objections when Joanna used that.  You must admit, this is hardly what one would call a formal situation."

"No... Harry is fine, for now."

"Yes, I did hypnotize her last night during the party.  It was very easy, actually, as our American friend is so highly suggestible."  She reached down to pat her "pet" on the head.  "We met, and chatted, and, like me, I sensed that she was rather bisexual, although somewhat submissive.  In fact, I think she was actually looking for me to hypnotize her... or at least seduce her.

"I decided to do both, and so here we are."

"Yes... here we are..." Lord Harrison said.

"And what do we do now!" Bankington blurted.

"Ronnie!  Your station, man."

"Sorry, sir... but I... I..."

"He hurts, Harry," Corina interrupted.  "Don't you hurt even a little bit?" she purred.

Lord Harrison didn't "hurt".  But he did throb some, and in a place that he doubted aspirin would even touch.

"A little," he finally admitted.

"Good.  I'm glad.  And can't you admit that our dear little Joanna is just about the sexiest woman you've ever seen."

Lord Harrison nodded.  "She has certain, um... charms... yes."

Corina looked down at her enthralled friend, and then said, "Harry likes you, Joanna.  Don't you think he is the most wonderful man, too?"

Joanna turned to look up at him, smiling.  Her face is so alive, Lord Harrison thought.

"I think he’s a wonderful, attractive man, Mistress Creolatte," she said, seemingly in complete honesty.

"And don't you think you'd like to be with him sexually, dear?" Corina said softly.

"Oh, yes," Joanna said, her eyes filled with lust.  "I want him to jump my bones."

Lord Harrison stared down at her, at this lithe, luscious woman who apparently wanted him so badly.

"You're making her say this," he whispered to Corina.

"I'm not," Corina replied, her voice strong and assertive.  "I may be making it easier for her to say it, given that this is your home, and that you are old enough to be her father; but the feelings are her own.  Trust them." 

Then, to Joanna, "Crawl over to Harry, Joanna, while you tell him exactly what you're going to do to him."

"Yes, Mistress," Joanna whispered, without looking back at her.  She began to crawl toward Lord Harrison, her large breasts hanging down, her rear end swaying back and forth like a swinging tail.  "I'm going to pull out Harry's big cock and suck it until he cums down my throat," she said, then moaned, seemingly at the thought of doing just that.

Lord Harrison heard a soft moan coming from Bankington, too, having a better idea of why the other had done that with each "step" that brought Joanna closer to him. 

"Corina... I mean, really!" he said, his voice growing husky, unable to take his eyes off Joanna.  He couldn’t move, either, wondering if he had been entranced somehow, too.

"Harry's still fighting his feelings for you, Joanna, maybe because you're an American.  Perhaps you can raise his flag to full mast if you sing 'God Save the Queen' for him."

"Yess, Mistress," Joanna sighed, continuing to stalk closer to Lord Harrison.  Then, in a Marilyn Monroe-type voice, she began to sing...

"God save the Queen... We mean it, maaaan...!"

"What tha...?" Lord Harrison choked out.

Bankington was choking even more, struggling wildly not to laugh.  Corina was literally biting her tongue to keep from doing the same, before calling out, "Joanna!"

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Not the 'Sex Pistols' version, dearest.  I meant the English sort of National Anthem version."

"Oh... sorry,” she said, blushing charmingly to Lord Harrison.  "Let me start again.

"God save your gracious Queen," she sang, crawling ever closer.  "Long live your noble Queen; God save the Queen..."

She was next to Lord Harrison's legs now, sitting on her heels and reaching up to loosen the sash on his bathrobe, and to push it back along his hips.

"Send her victorious," she crooned, sliding her right cheek up along the length of his shaft, straightening it fully.

"Happy and glorious," she continued, both cheeks rubbing all over Lord Harrison's pajamas like a friendly cat, back and forth across his swelling member.  She finally pulled back when she heard him groan.

"Soo long... to reign over us," she sighed, unsnapping him, then reaching inside to pull his penis out, now fully engorged.

"Goddd... save the Queen... MMMPPH," she finished, rising up and leaning forward to take him deeply into her mouth.

"Oh my lord!" gasped Bankington.

Lord Harrison felt no particular compunction to remind his butler of his station this time.  Frankly, he could give a damn about Bankington's station right now, his mind starting to melt as Joanna worked her tight, wet lips up and down his cock, as she pulled and sucked on it and slid her tongue along it over and over again.  With what little decorum he had left, he managed to groan, "Perhaps... perhaps we could have a little privacy here?"

Corina agreed, a huge smile on her face.  "Yes, I think you two should be alone.  Why don't you take her back to your room, Harry?  I'm sure you'd be far more comfortable there."

"B... but how?  I can't... she's... ohhh..."

"Joanna!" Corina called out.  "Show Harry that gymnastic move of yours… the one you showed me last night."

Without replying, Joanna rose to her feet on Lord Harrison's right side, leaning down so as to keep him in her mouth.  Then she reached over with her left arm to wrap it around his left hip and buttock, reached up and under with her right arm to do the same on the other side... and jumped.

It wasn't so much a jump as a half-handstand, half-cartwheel; but it left her with the tops of her thighs on his shoulders, and her legs somewhat wrapped around his head as she clutched his posterior tightly, his swollen organ still deeply imbedded in her mouth.

Lord Harrison quickly, and desperately, wrapped his arms around her waist, his legs almost buckling from her weight... and from the scent and feel of Joanna's wet pussy as it pressed into his chin.

It was his turn to groan, "Oh my lord!", hanging onto her for dear life.

"Smartly done, sir!" Bankington said.  Lord Harrison couldn't see him, but knew his butler must be grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"Just be quiet and get the door, Bankington," he grunted, struggling to ignore everything else as he tried to remember simply how to walk.  He turned carefully with his load, trying his best to stare straight ahead, and not down at the wet, fragrant opening just below his mouth.

"That's a rather incredible chalice you have at your lips, Harry," Corina called out.  "Perhaps Bankington could run get some champagne and fill it for you."

"No thank you.  It's... It's bubbly enough, already," Lord Harrison called back, the sucking and pulling at his shaft becoming more and more insistent, harder and harder... to ignore.

"Take over here, Bankington," he said, managing a wink for his friend just before he stepped through the doorway.

"Very good, sir.  Keep your chin up, sir."

"Shut up, Bankington!"

"Yes, sir," Bankington said, wearing his own huge smile as he closed the door and turned back into the bedroom.

"And can I be of any assistance to you, Madame?"

"It's Corina to you, too, and yes, you can, if you know anything about plumbing."  She raised one leg and reached out with it, putting her foot down on the edge of the bed.

Bankington stared at her soft, gleaming sex, swallowing hard before he said, "I've been known to fix the occasional leaky faucet... Corina."

"Good," she said, hooking a finger and indicating he should come closer.  "But all I really need is someone who can plug this dripping hole I seem to have.  And for some reason, I think you're just the man to do it."

"Very good, Corina," Bankington said, beginning to unbutton his jacket as he walked over to her.

*******

[Bankington]

I don't know if I am suppoed to post here or not, but Jo's story - Fantastic! 

[flibinite]

Thanks a ton, Banks... glad you enjoyed and thanks for the use of your nickname in it, but no...

... posts about these stories go here... 

           Jo

[Nab]

Lewd Dude and the Nude Prude, by Rank Newbie (but then I showered)

"Shriiiiiiiiiiek!"

I folded and put down my newspaper; finishing the day's su doku puzzle would have to wait. "Oh good, you're finally awake."

My beautiful naked brunette victim's only response to that was to scream even louder. "SHHRRRIIIIIIEEEEEK!"

I rolled my eyes. "And why are you yelling like that? Nobody screams out the actual word shriek; they just, well, you know, shriek instead."

"AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE! --That better?"

"Much. Now were you planning to keep going, or did you perhaps want to keep some yelling in reserve?"

"Hmm. I guess I'm done for now." She looked down at her exposed and spread-eagled body and added, "But do you mind if I struggle for a bit?"

I pretended to consider. "No no, struggle away, I suppose. In fact, may I suggest you try some gasping and moaning as well? I am recording this for posterity, you know."

And so, while she lay on my bed, pulling and tugging at her bonds, causing her unrestrained and pendulous bosom to heave mightily (I might add), I hope you'll permit me a paragraph or two of long, unbroken, and quite possibly unnecessary exposition. My victim's name is Anne O'Rexia--rather ironic, I'm sure you'll agree, considering her bounteous and curvy charms. I've already mentioned her brown hair; permit me to add here that it is long and flowing--or would be, were she not currently tied down upon my bed. She is exactly five feet three-and-three-eighths inches in height, a delightful one hundred fifteen and one half pounds in weight, and prefers to wear either a 36DD or a 38D depending on the cut of the bra. Her areolae are oval, and a fraction over an inch wide at the narrowest point. She also has a mole at the base of her spine, a smaller one on her left shoulder, and a slight flatulence problem which probably wouldn't matter so much if she wasn't otherwise as sexually stimulating as she is.

Too much information, you say? Nonsense. Too much information would be me describing myself in similar depth. Suffice it to say that for the purposes of this piece I am older, male, heterosexual, and completely amoral. Well, maybe not amoral exactly; more like operating under a considerably different set of rules than is the public at lar-- but I digress.

So anyway, back to the setting. Miss O'Rexia was struggling rather prettily--and not too energetically; nobody enjoys rope burns, after all--I availed myself of the opportunity to have a peek inside her delightfully open mind. I can read minds, after all--even yours. Allow me to demonstrate.

Read minds? you're thinking right now. Yea, verily, and control them as well. Smacks too much of deus ex machina to you, does it? Well, that just shows that you really don't know what the term means after all; a deus ex machina is an improbable plot device brought in at the end of a tale, to resolve a situation or untangle a plot. My ability to influence minds has been introduced far too early in this dramatization to fall into that category. Nyah.

And so once again we return to our story, already in progress. Miss O'Rexia's mind was a cornucopia of absolutely delightful sensations: a wonderment at her current predicament, a puzzlement as to whether she'd been struggling long enough, a commitment to believing that the ropes tying her down were indeed real, an unexplained and growing excitement filling her loins, a compliment as to my rugged good looks--all right, I'll admit I inserted that thought, and the two before it. You happy now?--even a touch of embarrassment at the little 'pfft' she'd just involuntarily released. Must remember to have her work on that slight social problem; it's distracting.

She seemed to have lost her enthusiasm for struggling; it was time to tell her it was okay to stop. "It's okay to stop," I said. Told her. Mouthed. Breathed. Shouted. Whispered. Admitted. Insisted. (Aw, hell, just pick a verb already and be done with it!)

In any case, she stopped. Paused. Quieted dow-- forget it. I am not playing this game again. She was done. And waiting for me to make my next move.

I didn't want to disappoint her; so I bent down and sucked on one of her breasts. Which brought forth an appreciative moan, and a further moistening of her exposed and suddenly hairless loins. "Mmm. Why are you doing this to me? And what's you're name?"

"My name is not important; however, you may call me Master." I transferred my attention to her other breast; no sense in letting it become jealous.

"Ahh. You want me to call you master?"

"No." I slapped her belly. "I want you to call me Master. Capitalize the M."

"I see," she replied contritely. "You want me to call you Master; all right, I will. But why are you doing this to me?"

I stroked her belly where I'd just slapped her, and then continued to move my finger downward. "Why? Because you're a librarian, of course."

"What do you mean, because I'm a luuuuhhhhhhh?" That last moan was triggered by my fingers finally coming into contact with her clit; just like I'd convinced her she was tied down by unbreakable ropes, I'd altered her mind to believe that any contact from me onto her most intimate parts would feel incredibly sexy. It made her crave my touch, even though she really didn't want to; I'm devious that way. No, really, I am.

"Because you're a librarian? Well, that's easy. Everyone knows librarians are sexually repressed."

What followed was nearly a full minute of moans and screams, up to and including a sexual climax; I shan't bore you with the mundane details, as you likely wouldn't be interes--

What's that you're thinking? You do want the details? Well, I for one am relieved to see that you're nearly as perverted as I am after all! Well then, here goes:

"Ah, oh, oh fuck, yes--no--yes, fuck it, rub me, more, more, hah, hah, hah, ohmigod, my clit, ah, ha, Hah, Hah, suck my tits, yes, YES, HAH, HAH, HAH, shrie--I mean, ieeeeeeeee! I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm-- huh, hunh, huh, hunh, thah, that, was, fan, tas, tic, huh, huh... What does being a librarian have to do with being sexually repressed?"

"Well, you turned me down when I asked you to have sex with me."

"Well, of course I turned you down when you asked me to have sex with you, Master. I was at work, you were a total (and somewhat creepy) stranger who was hitting on me, and I'm engaged."

"At work at the library. It's well-known that smoking-hot librarians, especially dark-haired ones, who dress to hide their bodies are sexually repressed. It's in every porn magazine I've ever read; so there."

"Oh, for--" My unwilling subject rolled her eyes, then looked right at me. "Master. Darling. Light Of My Life. Listen to me carefully. I was not dressing to hide my body; I was wearing long sleeves because it's the middle of fucking winter! And what part of 'engaged' don't you understand? Saving myself for my fiancé is not the same thing as sexually repressed."

"It is to me."

She shifted position on the bed, reminding me that she was naked and still horny. "For the record, I'm fucking my fiancé, nine ways to Sunday. Now will you please untie me so I can get up; I have a sudden, unexplained, and urgent need to open your pants and swallow your cock."

Now there's a segue. I mentally released her from her bonds, and she physically released my cock from his. Its. Whatever. The point is, she started playing the mouth organ--and quite well, I might add. I guess she really did practice on her fiancé.

Between the velvet sensation of her lips on my shaft, and the visual delight of her shimmying tits as she bobbed up and down, it wasn't long before I rewarded her with a full half a teaspoon of my (ahem) special fluid. I was delighted; that was the most I'd produced in ages. My little orphan Annie really was woman enough to wake the dead...

"Hmwuh?" She stopped sucking and swallowing. "Orphan? Where the hell did you get the idea that I'm an orphan? Both of my parents are doing quite well, thank you very much; I swear, Master, there are times when I really don't have a clue what the fuck you're thinking."

Now that statement was ironic, since she'd obviously and unwittingly 'heard' my thought. I guess whenever I climax, I lose some control over my mental shields. I don't know for sure, since it hasn't happened that oft-- strike that. What I meant to say was, I'm a stud. I fuck women for pleasure. All the time. And if you repeat one word of anything else--one word--I will hunt you down and give you an irresistible urge to, to... marry a dolphin. I'm not bluffing.

Ahem. Anywhoo... back to the story.

I made sure that the video camera was still running--it was, but it never hurts to check; these damned digital things eat battery power the way Anne just ate me--and then turned it off for twent--I mean, two, two minutes, while I regained my erection. (Thank goodness for Cialis, or it might've taken me all day. And thank goodness even more that Miss O'Rexia didn't hear me think that.)

I repositioned the camera and turned it back on--and made a mental note to mind control myself a stagehand next time. Preferably a cute one. Then it was my turn to lay down on my bed, so my new slave could mount me and do all the work. (What? My back cramps up if I'm on top for too long; it's an old work injury, okay?) And do all the work she did, and with gusto; she pumped merrily away, moaning and sighing, and leaning over me so that those gorgeous melons would fall straight into my mouth. And she managed to have at least another three--I mean, seven--nah, no need to exaggerate this time, it really was three-- more climaxes in the time it took me to have my second one.

Just in time, too. I heard the video camera power down; it'd run out of juice. I mentally ordered her to get up and put it away, and then plug the battery into the recharger. She looked at me and said, "Sure. Where's the recharger, and where's the camera case?" So I wound up having to get up out of bed anyway, dammit.

Still grumbling, I got up and reached over to separate the camera from its tripod. And then it talked to me. I swear. The camera, I mean. Honest to God.

Which is ironic, again, because the first words it said to me were, "This is God."

And the next words were, "You've been a bad boy. Again." And then God sighed. Trust me; you do not ever want to hear God sigh.

"I didn't mean to!" I cried out. And then, "Umm, what'd I do?"

God sighed yet again. Trust me--oh, wait, I already told you that. "You've refused to take your medication yet again, sir. That makes four times this week." And the face of God swam out of focus, to be replaced by that of Godfrey, my doctor at the nuthou--um, I mean, rehabilitation clinic.

"Do I really have to start telling the nurses to force the pills down your throat? You know that whenever you stop taking them, you risk having another episode." He glanced at the small stain under the sheet, about a foot below my waist, and sighed. "And you've had another emission again, didn't you?"

I quickly cupped the stain with both hands. "What emission?" I casually asked. Or yelped. Whichever.

Well, to make a long story short, he had one of the nurses bathe me and change the sheets. And as I finally drifted off to sleep after my rather exhausting experience, I couldn't help but think to myself, "See? Now that's a genuine deus ex machina. After all, its literal translation is God from the machine. So there. Nyah."

--The End. Finis. Done. 30. Whatever.

[Added to bring the word count up to 2,000. Actually, not really--but I made you count 'em, didn't I?]

[Bobwhite]

That's all the time we have for today's show, people!  Thanks very much for stopping by, and awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay I go to read the stories!

Locked.