Dr. Veronica Passik was naked on the examination table. Comfortable stirrups held her ankles and parted her legs. Across from her was a bullet shaped vehicle the size of a small bus. A small chute only an inch wide led from the vehicle to between her legs. A look of concern was on her face.
“Is this safe, Dr. Von Madd?” she asked.
“Of course it is,” Dr. Otto Von Madd said. “I am the world’s greatest expert on erotic sciences. I will personally be piloting the Maddillus V 2.0 into your vagina. After it has been shrunk of course.”
Veronica bit her lip. “I don’t doubt your skill, Doctor, but are you sure the shrinking ray is safe?”
Dr. Von Madd took off his purple goggles. “Perfectly safe. It was designed by my great grand uncle, Albert Von Madd, back in 1911. The principles are still the same although it was very difficult to find the irradiated tobacco that powers the device. Back then in Albert’s time, radioactive tobacco was thought to promote virility and was much more common. I had to grow an entire crop just for today’s adventure.”
Veronica stared at the giant vehicle aimed at her crotch. “Maybe this is an extreme measure to go to for an orgasm.”
Dr. Von Madd snorted. “Nonsense. It is a crime for any woman to have reached their mid twenties without an orgasm, much less a perfectly smart lubricant chemist such as yourself. Once I discovered that you have never experienced sexual satisfaction, I made getting you off my personal mission.”
“And I appreciate that, sir,” Veronica said. “But after trying your full line of vibrators, seven sex robots, thirty interns of male and female genders as well as the Von Madd Scientist Dating site, what makes you think that this will work?”
Dr. Von Madd smiled. “This time, it will be me inside you.”
The door to the Maddillus opened and a short Asian girl stepped out of it. She was completely naked.
“We’re ready for launch, Dr!” the girl said.
“Thank you, Dr. Dazai,” Dr. Von Madd said. “I will be there in a moment. Any last questions, Dr. Passik?”
“Just two,” Veronica said. “Why is she in there?”
“Dr. Dazai is a brilliant engineer in the field of experimental sex toys,” Dr. Von Madd said. “She is one of the few people who understand every piece of equipment on the Maddillus.”
“Okay, but why is Dr. Dazai naked?”
Dr. Von Madd paused in the unzipping of his pants. “In case of a structural collapse in which we are forced out of the wreckage of the Maddillus and into your biology, I thought it safer to be in as natural state as possible. That way if we die inside you vagina, you just need to expel biological material and not worry about foreign synthetics”
“Not because she is terribly cute with her small breasts?” Veronica asked.
“That is a fortunate side effect of my precaution,” Dr. Von Madd said.
~~~~
“Seal hatches!”
“Hatches sealed!”
“Prepare Lubricating Shields!”
“Lubricating shields activated!”
“Engage Vibration Engines!”
“Vibration Engines One, Two and Three are activated!”
“Activate Shrink Ray!”
“Shrink Ray On!”
“Firing Shrinking Ray!”
“Hold on tight! Preferably to my cock!”
Dr. Kimi Dazai felt the terrific pull of gravity as the Maddillus V 2.0 sped down the chute. Thanks to the vibrational engines, it was a bumpy ride. Dr. Passik’s sex was in the distance but they were approaching it with terrifying speeds.
She looked at Dr. Von Madd. She realized that this was the first time she had really seen him without his goggles. She never noticed how focused he was before. He was a man that was all science. Well, sexy science.
Kimi took his earlier advice and reached for his cock. He was hard and warm in her hand. Dr. Von Madd reached for her thigh. His fingers gripped her tightly as the gigantic vagina of Dr. Passik loomed before them.
“Penetration in three . . . two . . . one . . .”
The Maddillus entered Dr. Passik. Half of the vessel submerged into her sex and the vibration engines completed the insertion. The monitors showed that the Maddillus was completely inside Dr. Passik’s sex.
“Now, we can get to work,” Dr. Von Madd said. Kimi tried not to pout when he moved his hand from her thigh. “We have already tested vibrators on her, so I think it is time we test different levels of girth.”
“Shall I turn on the expanders?” Kimi asked.
“Yes, Dr. Dazai,” he said. “Start with a two inch diameter.”
Kimi reluctantly let go of his cock and used both hands for the force field generators. Using the sliding control, Kimi slowly projected high powered fields around the Maddillus. With careful precision, she expanded the fields to simulate a two inch diameter cock.
The Maddillus shook. “Nothing to worry about,” Dr. Von Madd said. “I believe that was just her vaginal walls clenching.”
The Maddillus shook again. This time there was a more powerful shift that lifted the Maddillus and then dropped it down.
“Yes, definitely a clench and possibly a hump,” Dr. Von Madd said. “How are the lubrication levels?”
“They are rising, Dr. Von Madd,” Kimi said.
“Excellent, begin thrust motion maneuver delta.”
Kimi keyed in the commands. The Maddillus rocked back and forth on the preset motions. Up, up, down, down, to the left and to the right before repeating itself.
The Maddillus shook as the walls clenched down tighter around them. Red lights flickered as the force fields were pushed to their tolerance levels. Kimi diverted power from the rotational motors and the texture adjustors. The force fields glowed green as they stabilized.
“I am detecting vigorous hip shifting,” Dr. Von Madd said. “I think she likes this movement.”
“How did you know that would respond to this one so well?” Kimi asked.
Dr. Von Madd looked at her. His intense eyes focused on her and she was in danger of making her seat very damp.
“The way she walked,” Dr. Von Madd said. “Her placement of thighs, shifting of weight and sway of her hips told me everything I needed to know. She walked like someone who would enjoy thrust maneuver delta.”
“I think I am enjoying it myself,” Kimi said.
Dr. Von Madd reached between her thighs. A finger slipped into her sex. Kimi’s eyes shut and she forgot all about the force fields.
“Oh yes,” Dr. Von Madd said. “It looks like you are.”
The Maddillus shook violently. Stress alarms flared. Worse, Doctor Von Madd pulled his finger out of her.
“What is going on?” Kimi yelled. “I am detecting non stop movement and severe vaginal wall force!”
“I believe she is near orgasm but is she getting frustrated at not reaching completion!” Dr. Von Madd said. “The scans of her clitoris are showing frantic finger stimulation. She’s trying to aid in her orgasm1”
“The force fields can’t sustain this much clenching!” Kimi yelled. “If she doesn’t climax soon, we’ll be crushed by her mounting frustration!”
Dr. Von Madd put the finger that was in Kimi into his mouth. He sucked her juices idly as he thought.
“Hmm, I speculate that her own anxiety about climaxing might be hindering her ability to climax. We are going to have to stimulate her in a way that goes right to her libido. I am preparing the sonic cannon.”
“Are you sure, Doctor?” Kimi asked. “You said vibrations haven’t worked on her before.”
“Sometimes you just have to try everything all at once,” Dr. Von Madd said. He typed a sequence of bursts. “I am aiming for her g-spot. I was hoping to reach it physically with the Maddillus but we’re out of time. If she gets too frustrated, she’ll quit and lose the mood. Hold on tight!”
Kimi grabbed his cock. The mad scientist didn’t object. If anything, his cock pulsed in her hand.
“Firing cannon!” Dr. Von Madd said.
The Maddillus hummed as the sonic cannon fired. The vessel stopped shaking as Dr. Passik’s body froze in motion. Dr. Von Madd’s cock throbbed between Kimi’s fingers.
They heard the rumble right before something slammed into the front of the Maddillus. Kimi cried out as the Maddillus was violently pushed backwards. A second later, she saw the rapidly diminishing sight of Dr. Passik’s sex as they were expelled in a flood of fluid.
Then the Maddillus began to fall. It fell down to the laboratory floor below Dr. Passik and from Kimi’s point of view, it was several miles down. The vessel spun as it plummeted to the hard unforgiving ground below.
She held on for dear life to Dr. Von Madd’s cock.
Dr. Von Madd leaned back in his seat and pressed a purple button. Giant balloons emerged from the sides of the Maddillus and wrapped around it like a protective shell.
They hit the ground and bounced.
They bounced a second and third time before coming to a rest.
“Oh my god,” Kimi said as they came to a stop. Her heart was pounding. All she could think of was the sight of the floor as they approached it.
“Good thing I installed this precaution,” Dr. Von Madd said. “Since Dr. Passik had never climaxed, I wanted to be prepared in case she was a squirter.”
“Oh my god,” Kimi said again.
“Or course, now we are a white bubble on a white lab floor,” Dr. Von Madd said. “I turned on the distress beacon, but it might take the staff an hour to find us because they will take precautions not to step on us.”
“Oh my fucking god!” Kimi said.
“Dr. Dazai, you appear to be in shock. I recommend that you mount me.”
“Oh my fucking holy shit!” Kimi said. She wasn’t capable of saying anything more coherent. The young engineer was able to get out of her seat and climb on top of Dr. Von Madd’s lap. She didn’t need to say anything as she slid down his cock and settled on top of him.
“I think thrust maneuver gamma would be best,” Dr. Von Madd said. He shifted under her with a tenderness that she found surprising. The sensation in her sex was even more surprising.
Dr. Kimi Dazai climaxed thirty seconds later.
.JPG)
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
Father Qang
The early history of Euphoria was a time of chaos and instant gratification. Most Euphorians were content to molest each other and indulge their own appetites to the point that technology barely reached crude metal making. The world was broken up into small country-states, each ruled by one of the Seven Lords and Ladies of Pleasure. The Lords and Ladies never worked together and in fact wasted precious resources by battling each other.
This pitiful state of affairs continued until the appearance of the famed bandit, Qang. At first Qang was content to attack and raid the properties of the Seven Lords and Ladies but soon his great ambition pressed him for more. He understood that the people of Euphoria were happy to fuck and die for themselves because they never had anything higher to aspire to. Qang decided to give them a reason to live outside of their own desires. He would lead them to fight and die for his desires.
Qang raised a great army and over a bloody period of twenty years, he conquered all of the Lords and Ladies of Pleasure. He appealed to the greed of the Euphorians by offering them great treasures that the Lords and Ladies had locked away for themselves. He impressed the masses with his public molestations of the Lords and Ladies and he won the adoration of the masses with his creative executions of all who opposed him. He was a man of the people, taking into account that the average Euphorian is a bloodthirsty pervert.
With the bones of Lords and Ladies of Pleasure, Qang created the Skull Throne. Qang declared himself King and guided his people to a new age of prosperity. Under his guidance, he founded the Great Library of Deviance, dedicated to discovering new joys for the people of Euphoria. He founded the War Academy, where the greatest brutes and sadists could perfect their craft in his armies. He created the Order of Science, where the best and the brightest were given riches and bed slaves for their scientific achievements.
King Qang ruled for fifty years before he died of natural causes. His heart stopped when his daughter, Upata, fired an arrow into his chest. Queen Upata had her father buried with great honors and declared a week of abstinence as the planet mourned.
During this week of abstinence, many visions were reported by the population. Prophets came forth and declared that they had seen King Qang enter the Underworld where the Gods of Night fuck and eat the spirits of the deceased. Instead of being eaten, King Qang had organized a resistance and overthrew the Gods of Night. Now the Gods of Night exist as servants to Qang who rules the Underworld as an extension of the Skull Throne. He lost his title of King but is now known as Father Qang. He now judges the souls of those who die and rewards the wicked and loyal and punishes the docile and traitorous.
Queen Upata honored these great prophets with a personal orgy that lasted an entire month. She dismissed the temples of the Gods of Night and had them replaced with states of Father Qang. People are free to worship whomever they please as Queen Upata was a merciful Queen. They just shouldn’t expect the same mercy from Father Qang.
The Arch-Heretic, Tesi, argued that the visions of the prophets were just a result of hallucinations brought upon by the forced week of abstinence. Tesi also argues that the month long orgy was the final bribe paid by Queen Upata to ensure that her father would replace the planet’s religion. Tesi was punished by King Fong with an amazingly creative and debasing ordeal that was immortalized in a series of holomovies and books known as ‘The Story of T’.
Curiously, the heresy never caught on with the general populace. A survey conducted by the Order of Science determined that the average Euphorian believed that if Queen Upata engineered a massive religious hoax to seize spiritual power, then it was only more proof about how worthy she was in holding the Skull Throne.
--Euphorian Gazetteer
This pitiful state of affairs continued until the appearance of the famed bandit, Qang. At first Qang was content to attack and raid the properties of the Seven Lords and Ladies but soon his great ambition pressed him for more. He understood that the people of Euphoria were happy to fuck and die for themselves because they never had anything higher to aspire to. Qang decided to give them a reason to live outside of their own desires. He would lead them to fight and die for his desires.
Qang raised a great army and over a bloody period of twenty years, he conquered all of the Lords and Ladies of Pleasure. He appealed to the greed of the Euphorians by offering them great treasures that the Lords and Ladies had locked away for themselves. He impressed the masses with his public molestations of the Lords and Ladies and he won the adoration of the masses with his creative executions of all who opposed him. He was a man of the people, taking into account that the average Euphorian is a bloodthirsty pervert.
With the bones of Lords and Ladies of Pleasure, Qang created the Skull Throne. Qang declared himself King and guided his people to a new age of prosperity. Under his guidance, he founded the Great Library of Deviance, dedicated to discovering new joys for the people of Euphoria. He founded the War Academy, where the greatest brutes and sadists could perfect their craft in his armies. He created the Order of Science, where the best and the brightest were given riches and bed slaves for their scientific achievements.
King Qang ruled for fifty years before he died of natural causes. His heart stopped when his daughter, Upata, fired an arrow into his chest. Queen Upata had her father buried with great honors and declared a week of abstinence as the planet mourned.
During this week of abstinence, many visions were reported by the population. Prophets came forth and declared that they had seen King Qang enter the Underworld where the Gods of Night fuck and eat the spirits of the deceased. Instead of being eaten, King Qang had organized a resistance and overthrew the Gods of Night. Now the Gods of Night exist as servants to Qang who rules the Underworld as an extension of the Skull Throne. He lost his title of King but is now known as Father Qang. He now judges the souls of those who die and rewards the wicked and loyal and punishes the docile and traitorous.
Queen Upata honored these great prophets with a personal orgy that lasted an entire month. She dismissed the temples of the Gods of Night and had them replaced with states of Father Qang. People are free to worship whomever they please as Queen Upata was a merciful Queen. They just shouldn’t expect the same mercy from Father Qang.
The Arch-Heretic, Tesi, argued that the visions of the prophets were just a result of hallucinations brought upon by the forced week of abstinence. Tesi also argues that the month long orgy was the final bribe paid by Queen Upata to ensure that her father would replace the planet’s religion. Tesi was punished by King Fong with an amazingly creative and debasing ordeal that was immortalized in a series of holomovies and books known as ‘The Story of T’.
Curiously, the heresy never caught on with the general populace. A survey conducted by the Order of Science determined that the average Euphorian believed that if Queen Upata engineered a massive religious hoax to seize spiritual power, then it was only more proof about how worthy she was in holding the Skull Throne.
--Euphorian Gazetteer
Friday, November 25, 2011
Black Friday Sale of My Books
Imagine my disappointment when I discovered that Black Friday was not a celebration of African-American porn. Apparently it has to do with shopping and sales. I would much prefer brown tits and a lovely brown ass but oh well.Lucky for you, Lulu has decided to have a sale too and now you can buy any of my books at 25% off the cover price. Fear not, Lulu takes the hit and my profits are untouched. I will take my profits and reinvest that money in more racially diverse erotica. It is a win/win!
Just buy any number of my book and when you get to the coupon code section, type in
BUYMYBOOK305
The coupon expires December 14, 2011 and will only count up to $50 maximum savings.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Fiction: First Impact
Explorer’s Log: I am about to land on the 2nd planet orbiting the star designed, Queen’s Lack of Mercy, by Royal Astronomers. I have detected signs of humanoid life near the equator of this jungle planet. There is no sign of technology but I have found various settlements. I will land away from a village and approach on foot to determine their suitability for slavery to the Queen.
Explorer’s Personal Log: Fuck yes! I have finally found a primitive world! The Deep Space Probe laws allow me to enjoy up to seven days of gluttonous pleasure as I establish myself as a space goddess to these evolutionary starter students. This was one of the main reasons I even signed up for this mission. Seven days of initiating naive natives in the myriad sexual practices of getting me off will make up for the long lonely journey here.
Vaquel Di picked her way through the jungle. Steam rose from the floor as the bright sun above vaporized the morning moisture of the jungle. Lucky for Vaquel, her red skintight spacesuit that clung to every curve and cleft of her body regulated her internal temperature and protected her from the intense heat. Advances in glassteel technology prevented her bubble helmet from fogging over which meant that any primitive looking at her could see her pretty brown face topped by the short pink bangs that she had cultivated for this encounter. If the primitives of this world were going to make stone sculptures of her and paint cave drawings, she wanted to look her best.
The holographic display inside her helmet alerted her to the presence of an incoming humanoid lifeform. It was moving pretty fast and at a damn good pace through this thick jungle. Vaquel took out her plasma pistol in case the natives needed convincing of her superiority.
The humanoid came running out of the bush. He was as green as the jungle he emerged from. He was also butt-naked. He came to a stumbling halt when he saw Vaquel and his mouth opened in surprise. Eyes as red as rubies stared at her in incomprehensible shock.
Vaquel smirked. She said nothing and let him drink in the sight of her and her alien clothes. She did wonder why he was running through the jungle with no weapons of his own. Her smirk faded as she looked down his muscular body to the weapon he carried between his legs. His cock was massive, and bounced up and down with eager energy.
“Mok?” the green humanoid said.
“Vaquel,” she said. “Vaquel Di of the Royal Navy.” She knew that he didn’t understand her, but Royal Navy protocol required that she informed new slaves of their new masters.
“Mok?” the green humanoid said again.
Vaquel sighed. She was going to have to resort to basic pantomime for communication.
As she debated the proper way to convey that she was from the stars, the humanoid took a cautious step towards her. Vaquel kept her plasma pistol trained on him in case he needed melting. She also put her hand out to touch his, as most primitives like to be reassured that other people have hands too.
The humanoid’s hand ignored her hand and reached for her breast instead. His palm cupped her breast right where her nipple was pressing against the thin spacesuit. He smiled when his hand touched her stellar abundance.
“Mok,” he said again.
Vaquel debated fucking him before going to his village. The last good fuck she had was from a micro-nebula and the details of that weird experience were getting harder to recall every day. The way he was groping her breast had her convinced that they would have no trouble communicating about fucking.
The holographic display inside her helmet lit up with multiple scanner contacts. About thirty other humanoids were headed to Vaquel’s location. The deep space explorer looked at the humanoid in front of her and wondered if he somehow sent a signal that he had found her. Maybe the race didn’t need technology because they were psychic?
Vaquel pushed the guy’s hand away from her breast as more humanoids emerged from the jungle. The first thing Vaquel noticed was their size; these humanoids were easily eight feet tall if not taller. The second thing she noticed was that although they shared the same green skin and red eyes as her first contact, these humanoids were all female. The third thing she noticed is that they were all carrying weapons. Well, fuck.
“Greetings!” Vaquel yelled in a commanding tone. “I am Vaquel Di of the Royal Navy! I come from the stars to bless you all with my presence!”
Two seconds later, one of the green women threw her spear at Vaquel. Vaquel dodged to the side as the male beside her cowered into a ball. The spear impacted into a tree with such force that the tree cracked.
“You fucked up,” Vaquel said. She fired her plasma pistol at the woman who threw first. The woman’s head atomized in a super-heated flash of light. The other humanoids watched in stunned horror as the woman’s headless body crumpled into the mist of the jungle ground.
“Cag!” the women yelled together in response. They charged at Vaquel with their spears.
Vaquel reached for her utility belt and pulled out her vibration blade. A single click of a button and the blade was vibrating a thousand pulses per second. She brought the blade up just in time to slice the head off the point of a spear that was aimed for her chest, and then on the back swing, she severed the head of the woman wielding the spear.
As soon as the alien fell to the ground, two more took her place. Vaquel shot her plasma pistol at the chest of one woman and sank her vibration blade into the face of the second. She then had to dodge three spear thrusts from other attackers.
“You’re supposed to be worshiping me and my superior weapons!” Vaquel yelled in frustration.
They kept attacking. Vaquel kept killing. The odds were certainly against Vaquel as one giant woman after another tried to kill her. Better technology or not, no one can fight this many people without getting tired or injured. Fortunately for Vaquel, she had spent months of her space travel in the Exercise Pod trying to rig various vibrators to her exercise routine. All that sexual frustration was paying off as Vaquel dispatched one warrior woman after another.
Eventually there was no one left to kill. Vaquel stood in the jungle clearing, surrounded by corpses and dropped spears. Some of the aliens had run off but Vaquel didn’t have the energy to chase after them.
“Mok?” the male said. He was hiding behind a tree. When he saw that all of the women were dead, he ran forward and embraced Vaquel.
“Mok!” he said. He certainly seemed excited. Vaquel could feel his hard cock pressing against her thigh.
“At least I got something out of today,” Vaquel said. She put her vibration blade away and grabbed his cock. His manhood was almost pulsing more than her blade.
A strange cry came out of the forest. The sound caused the male to shake with fear. The holographic display in Vaquel’s helmet lit up with multiple life signs. The number of humanoids converging on their location was exceeding triple digits.
“Queen’s tits,” Vaquel swore. She had to get out of here. This planet wasn’t going to be pacified by one explorer. It was going to take a Warship and some orbital bombardments.
She squeezed the cock that was in her hand. Vaquel would be damned if she was leaving here empty handed.
Vaquel let go of his cock and grabbed the male’s wrist. “Come with me!”
She took off running. Like a good primitive alien, the male ran with her. At least one damn alien on this planet understood that she was in charge.
They reached the Deep Space Probe and the male hesitated at the strange sight before him. A slap on the ass later and he went into the small vessel. Vaquel spared a glance back at the jungle and saw that the scanner had detected over a thousand humanoid life signs heading her way.
“Fuckers hold a grudge,” Vaquel whispered. This was so going into her report. The Royal Navy might end up enlisting these bitches.
Vaquel climbed into her vessel and shut the door. The male was busy pondering the mysteries of a chair in the Nutrition Pod. She ignored him and went straight to navigation.
“MOK!” the male screamed as the ship took off into space. Other than that first primal scream of terror, he quieted down. Vaquel checked on him and he was busy trying to understand what the mirror was.
Vaquel took off her glassteel helmet and let out a sigh of annoyance. She was safely back in orbit, but she didn’t get the seven day orgy that she had been expecting. The exhaustion of the fight and the run was catching up to her. Damn it, she should be getting a massage from worshiping primitives!
Hands reached from behind her and cupped her breasts. The heavy cock pressed against the spacesuit covering her buttocks. Warm breath danced over her ears.
“Mok?” the male asked.
Vaquel turned around in his hands. She pressed a button on her collar and her spacesuit retracted from her body and into her boots. The male looked down at her brown breasts, her wide hips and the pink bush of hair between her thighs.
“I am going to call you, Mok,” Vaquel said. “And your first duty on board this ship is to fuck me, Mok!”
Mok might not have understood her language, but he knew what she wanted. He pushed her down to the floor of the Deep Space Probe and parted her thighs with exuberance. As he pressed the head of his cock against the lips of her sex, he noticed the jiggling of Vaquel’s breasts as she awaited penetration.
He forgot about her cunt and his mouth dived for her breasts. Vaquel cried out as his teeth sank into her tit. His hand cupped her other breast and squeezed with all the passion of a bed-slave on his first night. Vaquel squirmed as the green man went back and forth between her breasts, his mouth enjoying the taste of each brown tit.
Vaquel wanted more. She didn’t need foreplay. She needed to fuck. She reached between them and grabbed that impressive cock that she needed so badly.
Mok moaned and he lifted himself up on powerful arms. He looked like he was going to dive back down on her spit covered breasts but she tightened her grip on is cock. Slowly she guided him between her thighs and helped him take his rightful place.
He was her prize, damn it. He was hers to fuck and she wanted to fuck now.
“Yes!” Vaquel cried out as his girth slid inside her. After months of vibrators, plant dildoes, strange nebula lovers and her own hand, she was glad to finally have a real cock between her legs. She wrapped her legs tightly around him and knew she would never let him go.
Mok appeared happy too. He thrust inside her with a savage passion. There was no technique or skill; just the thrusting of an animal. He plunged his cock into her with perfect rhythm that needed no intelligence.
Vaquel shuddered and moaned. The floor was hard against her back but she didn’t care. It was a month’s journey to the next star system. There would be plenty of time to fuck in the bed, in the Hygenic Pod, in the Nutrition Pod and every other flat surface of the ship. As Mok pounded away at her cunt, Vaquel was more than happy to take it on the floor like some backwater primitive species.
“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel cried as she reached orgasm.
“Mok!” her green lover yelled as he kept fucking.
Vaquel had no intention of stopping him. She grabbed his chest hair and held onto him as he kept fucking. If she hurt him, it was hard to tell because he never stopped humping her.
“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel cried out with her second orgasm.
Mok pulled out and Vaquel nearly ripped his chest hair out. Her anger subsided when he tried to roll her over. She happily got on her knees and lifted her ass to him. The green savage re-entered her from behind. He reached around and grabbed her tits as he fucked her. His cock rammed her twice as fast as before.
Vaquel clenched her eyes in bliss. Oh the things she would teach this man. She would teach him out to eat cunt. She would show him how to slow down and fuck her ass. She would show him the joys of getting a blowjob. By the time that they reached the next star system, Vaquel planned to have broken him in and trained in every sex act that she could think of.
Hell, if he was a good student, she might even keep him instead of dumping him off at the next planet.
Mok’s hands clenched her tits painfully hard. His thrusts had slowed down but his cock was ramming into her twice as hard. He was going to climax soon and Vaquel could feel cock throbbing with power.
“Come inside me!” Vaquel demanded. “Come inside your new mistress, Mok!”
“MOK!” he cried out. His whole body shook and Vaquel felt the surge of seed a second later. Hot liquid heat flooded her cunt and Vaquel climaxed for the third time. She came so hard that she couldn’t even articulate praise to the Queen for her orgasm.
Mok slid odd her body and onto the floor. He still hung on to one of her tits though, and Vaquel crumpled up beside him. It was an awkward position in the narrow area but she didn’t care. The exhausted explorer closed her eyes in orgasmic bliss.
When she woke up an hour later, Mok’s corpse was cold beside her.
Explorer’s Log: Further scans have shown that the male of this species can only orgasm once before fatal breakdowns occur in the circulation system. This certainly explains the hostility that I encountered with the female of the species. I was literally stealing the one fuck that they could get out of him.
I am not sure how a species like this survives in the long term, but for purposes of conquering, it makes our job easy. I suspect that a team of horny Royal Navy crewmen could win these women over to the service of Queen just by jacking off and not dying. I know after my brief encounter, I sure as fuck could go for a man who has more than one charge in his pistol.
Explorer’s Personal Log: Fuck yes! I have finally found a primitive world! The Deep Space Probe laws allow me to enjoy up to seven days of gluttonous pleasure as I establish myself as a space goddess to these evolutionary starter students. This was one of the main reasons I even signed up for this mission. Seven days of initiating naive natives in the myriad sexual practices of getting me off will make up for the long lonely journey here.
Vaquel Di picked her way through the jungle. Steam rose from the floor as the bright sun above vaporized the morning moisture of the jungle. Lucky for Vaquel, her red skintight spacesuit that clung to every curve and cleft of her body regulated her internal temperature and protected her from the intense heat. Advances in glassteel technology prevented her bubble helmet from fogging over which meant that any primitive looking at her could see her pretty brown face topped by the short pink bangs that she had cultivated for this encounter. If the primitives of this world were going to make stone sculptures of her and paint cave drawings, she wanted to look her best.
The holographic display inside her helmet alerted her to the presence of an incoming humanoid lifeform. It was moving pretty fast and at a damn good pace through this thick jungle. Vaquel took out her plasma pistol in case the natives needed convincing of her superiority.
The humanoid came running out of the bush. He was as green as the jungle he emerged from. He was also butt-naked. He came to a stumbling halt when he saw Vaquel and his mouth opened in surprise. Eyes as red as rubies stared at her in incomprehensible shock.
Vaquel smirked. She said nothing and let him drink in the sight of her and her alien clothes. She did wonder why he was running through the jungle with no weapons of his own. Her smirk faded as she looked down his muscular body to the weapon he carried between his legs. His cock was massive, and bounced up and down with eager energy.
“Mok?” the green humanoid said.
“Vaquel,” she said. “Vaquel Di of the Royal Navy.” She knew that he didn’t understand her, but Royal Navy protocol required that she informed new slaves of their new masters.
“Mok?” the green humanoid said again.
Vaquel sighed. She was going to have to resort to basic pantomime for communication.
As she debated the proper way to convey that she was from the stars, the humanoid took a cautious step towards her. Vaquel kept her plasma pistol trained on him in case he needed melting. She also put her hand out to touch his, as most primitives like to be reassured that other people have hands too.
The humanoid’s hand ignored her hand and reached for her breast instead. His palm cupped her breast right where her nipple was pressing against the thin spacesuit. He smiled when his hand touched her stellar abundance.
“Mok,” he said again.
Vaquel debated fucking him before going to his village. The last good fuck she had was from a micro-nebula and the details of that weird experience were getting harder to recall every day. The way he was groping her breast had her convinced that they would have no trouble communicating about fucking.
The holographic display inside her helmet lit up with multiple scanner contacts. About thirty other humanoids were headed to Vaquel’s location. The deep space explorer looked at the humanoid in front of her and wondered if he somehow sent a signal that he had found her. Maybe the race didn’t need technology because they were psychic?
Vaquel pushed the guy’s hand away from her breast as more humanoids emerged from the jungle. The first thing Vaquel noticed was their size; these humanoids were easily eight feet tall if not taller. The second thing she noticed was that although they shared the same green skin and red eyes as her first contact, these humanoids were all female. The third thing she noticed is that they were all carrying weapons. Well, fuck.
“Greetings!” Vaquel yelled in a commanding tone. “I am Vaquel Di of the Royal Navy! I come from the stars to bless you all with my presence!”
Two seconds later, one of the green women threw her spear at Vaquel. Vaquel dodged to the side as the male beside her cowered into a ball. The spear impacted into a tree with such force that the tree cracked.
“You fucked up,” Vaquel said. She fired her plasma pistol at the woman who threw first. The woman’s head atomized in a super-heated flash of light. The other humanoids watched in stunned horror as the woman’s headless body crumpled into the mist of the jungle ground.
“Cag!” the women yelled together in response. They charged at Vaquel with their spears.
Vaquel reached for her utility belt and pulled out her vibration blade. A single click of a button and the blade was vibrating a thousand pulses per second. She brought the blade up just in time to slice the head off the point of a spear that was aimed for her chest, and then on the back swing, she severed the head of the woman wielding the spear.
As soon as the alien fell to the ground, two more took her place. Vaquel shot her plasma pistol at the chest of one woman and sank her vibration blade into the face of the second. She then had to dodge three spear thrusts from other attackers.
“You’re supposed to be worshiping me and my superior weapons!” Vaquel yelled in frustration.
They kept attacking. Vaquel kept killing. The odds were certainly against Vaquel as one giant woman after another tried to kill her. Better technology or not, no one can fight this many people without getting tired or injured. Fortunately for Vaquel, she had spent months of her space travel in the Exercise Pod trying to rig various vibrators to her exercise routine. All that sexual frustration was paying off as Vaquel dispatched one warrior woman after another.
Eventually there was no one left to kill. Vaquel stood in the jungle clearing, surrounded by corpses and dropped spears. Some of the aliens had run off but Vaquel didn’t have the energy to chase after them.
“Mok?” the male said. He was hiding behind a tree. When he saw that all of the women were dead, he ran forward and embraced Vaquel.
“Mok!” he said. He certainly seemed excited. Vaquel could feel his hard cock pressing against her thigh.
“At least I got something out of today,” Vaquel said. She put her vibration blade away and grabbed his cock. His manhood was almost pulsing more than her blade.
A strange cry came out of the forest. The sound caused the male to shake with fear. The holographic display in Vaquel’s helmet lit up with multiple life signs. The number of humanoids converging on their location was exceeding triple digits.
“Queen’s tits,” Vaquel swore. She had to get out of here. This planet wasn’t going to be pacified by one explorer. It was going to take a Warship and some orbital bombardments.
She squeezed the cock that was in her hand. Vaquel would be damned if she was leaving here empty handed.
Vaquel let go of his cock and grabbed the male’s wrist. “Come with me!”
She took off running. Like a good primitive alien, the male ran with her. At least one damn alien on this planet understood that she was in charge.
They reached the Deep Space Probe and the male hesitated at the strange sight before him. A slap on the ass later and he went into the small vessel. Vaquel spared a glance back at the jungle and saw that the scanner had detected over a thousand humanoid life signs heading her way.
“Fuckers hold a grudge,” Vaquel whispered. This was so going into her report. The Royal Navy might end up enlisting these bitches.
Vaquel climbed into her vessel and shut the door. The male was busy pondering the mysteries of a chair in the Nutrition Pod. She ignored him and went straight to navigation.
“MOK!” the male screamed as the ship took off into space. Other than that first primal scream of terror, he quieted down. Vaquel checked on him and he was busy trying to understand what the mirror was.
Vaquel took off her glassteel helmet and let out a sigh of annoyance. She was safely back in orbit, but she didn’t get the seven day orgy that she had been expecting. The exhaustion of the fight and the run was catching up to her. Damn it, she should be getting a massage from worshiping primitives!
Hands reached from behind her and cupped her breasts. The heavy cock pressed against the spacesuit covering her buttocks. Warm breath danced over her ears.
“Mok?” the male asked.
Vaquel turned around in his hands. She pressed a button on her collar and her spacesuit retracted from her body and into her boots. The male looked down at her brown breasts, her wide hips and the pink bush of hair between her thighs.
“I am going to call you, Mok,” Vaquel said. “And your first duty on board this ship is to fuck me, Mok!”
Mok might not have understood her language, but he knew what she wanted. He pushed her down to the floor of the Deep Space Probe and parted her thighs with exuberance. As he pressed the head of his cock against the lips of her sex, he noticed the jiggling of Vaquel’s breasts as she awaited penetration.
He forgot about her cunt and his mouth dived for her breasts. Vaquel cried out as his teeth sank into her tit. His hand cupped her other breast and squeezed with all the passion of a bed-slave on his first night. Vaquel squirmed as the green man went back and forth between her breasts, his mouth enjoying the taste of each brown tit.
Vaquel wanted more. She didn’t need foreplay. She needed to fuck. She reached between them and grabbed that impressive cock that she needed so badly.
Mok moaned and he lifted himself up on powerful arms. He looked like he was going to dive back down on her spit covered breasts but she tightened her grip on is cock. Slowly she guided him between her thighs and helped him take his rightful place.
He was her prize, damn it. He was hers to fuck and she wanted to fuck now.
“Yes!” Vaquel cried out as his girth slid inside her. After months of vibrators, plant dildoes, strange nebula lovers and her own hand, she was glad to finally have a real cock between her legs. She wrapped her legs tightly around him and knew she would never let him go.
Mok appeared happy too. He thrust inside her with a savage passion. There was no technique or skill; just the thrusting of an animal. He plunged his cock into her with perfect rhythm that needed no intelligence.
Vaquel shuddered and moaned. The floor was hard against her back but she didn’t care. It was a month’s journey to the next star system. There would be plenty of time to fuck in the bed, in the Hygenic Pod, in the Nutrition Pod and every other flat surface of the ship. As Mok pounded away at her cunt, Vaquel was more than happy to take it on the floor like some backwater primitive species.
“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel cried as she reached orgasm.
“Mok!” her green lover yelled as he kept fucking.
Vaquel had no intention of stopping him. She grabbed his chest hair and held onto him as he kept fucking. If she hurt him, it was hard to tell because he never stopped humping her.
“Glory to the Queen!” Vaquel cried out with her second orgasm.
Mok pulled out and Vaquel nearly ripped his chest hair out. Her anger subsided when he tried to roll her over. She happily got on her knees and lifted her ass to him. The green savage re-entered her from behind. He reached around and grabbed her tits as he fucked her. His cock rammed her twice as fast as before.
Vaquel clenched her eyes in bliss. Oh the things she would teach this man. She would teach him out to eat cunt. She would show him how to slow down and fuck her ass. She would show him the joys of getting a blowjob. By the time that they reached the next star system, Vaquel planned to have broken him in and trained in every sex act that she could think of.
Hell, if he was a good student, she might even keep him instead of dumping him off at the next planet.
Mok’s hands clenched her tits painfully hard. His thrusts had slowed down but his cock was ramming into her twice as hard. He was going to climax soon and Vaquel could feel cock throbbing with power.
“Come inside me!” Vaquel demanded. “Come inside your new mistress, Mok!”
“MOK!” he cried out. His whole body shook and Vaquel felt the surge of seed a second later. Hot liquid heat flooded her cunt and Vaquel climaxed for the third time. She came so hard that she couldn’t even articulate praise to the Queen for her orgasm.
Mok slid odd her body and onto the floor. He still hung on to one of her tits though, and Vaquel crumpled up beside him. It was an awkward position in the narrow area but she didn’t care. The exhausted explorer closed her eyes in orgasmic bliss.
When she woke up an hour later, Mok’s corpse was cold beside her.
Explorer’s Log: Further scans have shown that the male of this species can only orgasm once before fatal breakdowns occur in the circulation system. This certainly explains the hostility that I encountered with the female of the species. I was literally stealing the one fuck that they could get out of him.
I am not sure how a species like this survives in the long term, but for purposes of conquering, it makes our job easy. I suspect that a team of horny Royal Navy crewmen could win these women over to the service of Queen just by jacking off and not dying. I know after my brief encounter, I sure as fuck could go for a man who has more than one charge in his pistol.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Death of the MoneyBuddy Donate Button
Phone rings.
Me: Ahoy?
Lady: Hello Mr. Richards, I am hear to talk you about (Audio gets too quiet to hear)
Me: Say again? You got really quiet.
Lady: I am calling from MoneyBuddy (Not the real company name) and I was calling to (audio gets too quiet to hear)
Me: Yeah, your voice got really quiet again.
Lady: I am calling to let you know that there is a problem with your account because of the blog you have.
Internal Me Dialogue: Aha! The evil anti-porn fascists have finally noticed my little bastion of sexual freedom and are trying to shut me down!
Lady: The blog is called "Erotiterrorist", did I say that right?
Me: Sure. (Hell, I came up with the name and I don't feel that I have any right to dispute how it sounds)
Lady: Well sir, you have material relating to (audio gets too quiet to hear)
Me: Say that again.
Lady: (audio gets too quiet to hear) concerning rape.
Me: Did you say rape?
Lady: Yes, you have a review concerning rape.
Internal Me Dialogue: Are you shitting me? I recently reviewed a dirty book where I said that I was put off by a rape scene. Am I being censored for even stating that a rape existed? What kind of Orwellian nightmare is MoneyBuddy running here?
Besides, I am very anti-rape. I wouldn't have anything promoting rape, except maybe Erishella who to be honest is a bad girl but all of her victims like it so I would think that is a fuzzy line especially when it comes to the campy space opera fiction that I write.
Me: So you are saying that I have a review concerning rape?
Lady (audio gets too quiet to hear)
Me: Again, I really can't hear you.
Lady: You also have a few articles about rape.
Me: Really? (In a terribly skeptical and disdainful tone. I haven't had a good sexual freedom argument in ages)
Lady: You have an article called, Rape Dogs of Sharpbaldes Island
Me: ....
Internal Me Dialogue: Oh snap. She got me there.
Lady: Did I pronounce that right?
Me: Yep, so what does Moneybuddy want me to do?
Lady: In order to comply with our Acceptable Use Policy and avoid the limitation
of your account, you will need to remove those items from erotiterrorist.blogspot.com ...
Internal Me Dialogue: Remove a story about freaky nasty dogs that were imported as a punishment and were later turned into a protected species? Hell no, that shit was funny.
Lady: . . . that violate MoneyBuddy's Acceptable Use Policy. Example/s: rape themed blogs and reviews as well as remove MoneyBuddy as a payment option, as well as all references to MoneyBuddy, including the MoneyBuddy logo and/or shopping cart, from erotiterrorist.blogspot.com.
Me: (click, click) Okay, I just did it.
Lady: Oh. Well, we'll do a review and everything will be restored.
Me: And the money in my MoneyBuddy account is still there?
Lady: Yes, you can still access it. You just can't close the account until we unfreeze it.
Me: All righty. (Hang up)
So yeah, no more MoneyBuddy donation button but hey, I got to hear someone else say the words, "Rape Dogs of Sharpblades Island" in a very serious tone of voice, so that is a win.
Me: Ahoy?
Lady: Hello Mr. Richards, I am hear to talk you about (Audio gets too quiet to hear)
Me: Say again? You got really quiet.
Lady: I am calling from MoneyBuddy (Not the real company name) and I was calling to (audio gets too quiet to hear)
Me: Yeah, your voice got really quiet again.
Lady: I am calling to let you know that there is a problem with your account because of the blog you have.
Internal Me Dialogue: Aha! The evil anti-porn fascists have finally noticed my little bastion of sexual freedom and are trying to shut me down!
Lady: The blog is called "Erotiterrorist", did I say that right?
Me: Sure. (Hell, I came up with the name and I don't feel that I have any right to dispute how it sounds)
Lady: Well sir, you have material relating to (audio gets too quiet to hear)
Me: Say that again.
Lady: (audio gets too quiet to hear) concerning rape.
Me: Did you say rape?
Lady: Yes, you have a review concerning rape.
Internal Me Dialogue: Are you shitting me? I recently reviewed a dirty book where I said that I was put off by a rape scene. Am I being censored for even stating that a rape existed? What kind of Orwellian nightmare is MoneyBuddy running here?
Besides, I am very anti-rape. I wouldn't have anything promoting rape, except maybe Erishella who to be honest is a bad girl but all of her victims like it so I would think that is a fuzzy line especially when it comes to the campy space opera fiction that I write.
Me: So you are saying that I have a review concerning rape?
Lady (audio gets too quiet to hear)
Me: Again, I really can't hear you.
Lady: You also have a few articles about rape.
Me: Really? (In a terribly skeptical and disdainful tone. I haven't had a good sexual freedom argument in ages)
Lady: You have an article called, Rape Dogs of Sharpbaldes Island
Me: ....
Internal Me Dialogue: Oh snap. She got me there.
Lady: Did I pronounce that right?
Me: Yep, so what does Moneybuddy want me to do?
Lady: In order to comply with our Acceptable Use Policy and avoid the limitation
of your account, you will need to remove those items from erotiterrorist.blogspot.com ...
Internal Me Dialogue: Remove a story about freaky nasty dogs that were imported as a punishment and were later turned into a protected species? Hell no, that shit was funny.
Lady: . . . that violate MoneyBuddy's Acceptable Use Policy. Example/s: rape themed blogs and reviews as well as remove MoneyBuddy as a payment option, as well as all references to MoneyBuddy, including the MoneyBuddy logo and/or shopping cart, from erotiterrorist.blogspot.com.
Me: (click, click) Okay, I just did it.
Lady: Oh. Well, we'll do a review and everything will be restored.
Me: And the money in my MoneyBuddy account is still there?
Lady: Yes, you can still access it. You just can't close the account until we unfreeze it.
Me: All righty. (Hang up)
So yeah, no more MoneyBuddy donation button but hey, I got to hear someone else say the words, "Rape Dogs of Sharpblades Island" in a very serious tone of voice, so that is a win.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Fiction: Occupy Bedroom
“This might be the most horrifying place I have ever been to as a reporter.”
Holly Valentine made this observation silently to herself. She didn’t want to wake the snoring talk show host who was sleeping in his bed. According to her sources, Hudson Williams was organizing a series of embarrassing events to occur at the recent Wall Street protests. The corporate overlords who supplied the talk show host with teenage boys and opiates were tired of the protests and they assigned the host the task of destroying popular support of the protestors. In typical fashion, the talk show host had opted for the hiring of transsexuals to stage orgies during the protests.
That was too good for Holly Valentine to pass up. Unlike Mr. Williams, Holly understood that breaking into the home of somebody to steal a list of transexuals was not exactly good journalism, but if she used to that list to do research on money transactions, communications and maybe a hard hitting interview ending in an awkward confession, then not only would she expose a scandal in the making but it might also get her a nomination for a journalism award or two.
Best of all, Holly just loved linking rightwing radio personalities to transsexuals. It gave her a warm feeling right between her thighs.
What didn’t give her a warm feeling was the creepiness of the bedroom. Hudson was a famously fat man and as he got larger, he did most of his work in his bedroom. That meant Holly had to search his bedroom/office which was decorated with far too many larger than life posters of Hudson’s face. It was as if Hudson was leering at her from every wall.
Holly looked down on herself as if her choice of clothes were somehow responsible for the panoramic staring. She had forgone her usual fabulous fashion sense for a simple black jogging suit that was appropriate for her night time break in. Sadly, even a shapeless pair of jogging pants couldn’t hide her rather awesome ass. The same went for her tight black sweatshirt which seemed to cling to every curve of her impressive breasts. Holly did know that she should have tucked her vibrant red hair under an unflattering cap but she did just have a new haircut so she pulled it into an efficient if still sexy ponytail. The reporter had a hard time consciously looking bad even when trying to be unnoticeable.
She found what she needed under a stack of male underwear catalogs. Hudson Williams kept a ledger of transsexuals complete with addresses, aliases and cock sizes. The man was a shitty repeater of lies and falsehoods but he kept surprisingly accurate records of sexual acquaintances. Who knew?
As Hudson Williams snored, Holly took photographs of his ledger. When she was finished, she tucked the camera into her bra where it was safely held in place by her heavy breast. Now all she had to do was sneak out of this bedroom, out of the hallway, through the open window and then across the mansion lawn. Easy peasy.
Holly turned around and that was when she saw the security guard. He stood there silently, looking into the bedroom with the light of the hallway behind him. She couldn’t see his face but she could see enough of his powerful body to know that there was no way she could run past him. She was fucked.
A second passed and then another. Holly was confused. He should have yelled at her. He should have made some sort of threatening move. Shit, he didn’t even break out a Tazer or a gun.
The security guard stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Holly smiled as he stepped into the moonlight. At least he had a cute face. It was the ugly guards that were the worse to deal with.
The guard put a finger to his lips and pointed to the snoring Hudson.
Holly nodded. She didn’t know what the fuck was going on but she could play along.
The guard unzipped his pants. This she understood. She was not above having sex with a cute stranger for the guarantee of safety. Hell, she considered it a bonus.
Holly made a head motion towards the door. Surely he would rather get his bribe in a safer place?
The guard shook his head. He also put his hands to her shoulders and pushed her to her knees.
Holly didn’t even allow herself to sigh. She reached into his unzipped pants and pulled out his cock. It was warm and pulsing in her hand. At least he was excited. This shouldn’t take too long.
She took him into her mouth. The guard let out a low moan that sent chills down Holly’s spine. She froze with his cock in her mouth and listened for Hudson’s snores.
The talk show host kept snoring.
This time Holly did sigh and it was with relief. A gentle thrust from the cock in her mouth reminded her to get to work. She fought back a giggle and took his cock down her throat. Holly pressed her nose hard against his crotch and let him enjoy the sensation of being entirely buried in a mouth.
The guard made no noise but his hand clenched her ponytail. She took it as a compliment.
Holly was blessed with a wet mouth but in this circumstance it might lead to an unfortunately loud sucking. The clever reporter combated this by sucking very, very, very slowly. In and out with the speed of a lazy summer blowjob, Holly took her time. She countered the slowness of her lips with a rapid flicking of her tongue against his cock.
The guard thankfully understood the need for silence but he was only human. He stood silently for the most part but when Holly’s tongue licked the tip of his cock he would moan. When she sucked him down to where his balls were on her chin then he would groan like an overdue Halloween ghost. Holly tried to avoid the more sensitive parts of his cock but as the blowjob continued, she was finding more and more spots to avoid.
It didn’t help that Holly was getting aroused herself. The heat between her thighs was rapidly growing warmer by the second. The cock in her mouth was nice but what turned her on more was the idea of getting more action in a right wing talk show host’s bedroom than he currently was. As a journalist Holly knew that she should be more neutral but as a woman who really hated the pseudo journalism of talk radio, she was fucking amused with herself.
The snoring stopped. Holly stopped licking. The guard’s cock was still in her mouth and she couldn’t help herself from sucking as hard as she could.
The behemoth radio host rolled over in his bed. The bed springs groaned with the agony of overworked metal.
The snoring started again.
Holly released the suction grip that her lips had on his cock. She didn’t understand when the guard pulled out of her mouth. When he pulled her to his feet, Holly smiled with relief. Obviously the guard was finally going to get her out of the bedroom so they could finish what they started in peace.
She was wrong. The silent guard turned her around and had her face the foot of Hudson’s bed. He yanked her sweatpants down and then pulled her night camouflage panties down as well. The fearless guard was going to fuck her!
Holly wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Okay, she was horny she would admit if they were allowed to speak but she didn’t think it was a good idea to be fucking right at the moment.
The guard’s cock pressed against her cunt. Holly bent forward enough to take him into her. She shuddered as he filled her ready cunt completely.
Okay, maybe this was a good idea after all.
Hudson Williams snored in his bed. Holly looked down on him as the guard fucked her from behind. Holly grabbed the bed frame for support and she was dismayed at how much the bed rocked back and forth. It was a large bed and it had a larger man inside it but still the bed moved from their fucking.
A minute of hard fucking later and Holly didn’t care. The sound of his cock ramming inside her wet cunt was so much louder than the nearly silent sucking she had performed earlier. She was sure that the host would wake at any moment but damn, the painkillers he was addicted to must make him a heavy sleeper.
Holly could have done without the giant poster of Hudson looking down at her from the head of the bed but it couldn’t be helped. In her highly sexed state, she couldn’t help imagine that the poster was staring at her breasts bouncing inside her sweatshirt as the security guard fucked her. Hudson might not like women but his poster sure did.
The guard grabbed her ponytail and increased the pace of his fucking. The man was grunting with the passion of his thrusts. What was his deal? Was he a disgruntled employee that just wanted to fuck in his boss’s bedroom? Or maybe after years of smuggling teenage boys into the mansion, the guard was finally happy to see some pussy?
As long as his cock stayed hard, Holly didn’t fucking care. He was fucking so hard that the sound of his hips smashing into her ass was a steady series of claps applauding their fucking. Holly had to resist the urge to applaud herself.
The bed rocked as they fucked.
Hudson snored.
Holly bit down on her lip to keep from screaming as she climaxed.
The sound of thighs on ass kept clapping.
The bed springs groaned as Hudson rolled onto his back.
The guard froze as the snoring stopped.
Hudson coughed.
They waited to see if Hudson woke up. Holly clenched with her cunt around the guard’s cock. The guard’s hand pulled her ponytail harder.
Holly rolled her hips. She did this so slowly and gently that the bed didn’t even move.
The guard whimpered. Holly felt the eruption of seed inside her. Three more rolls of her hips and his cock was completely drained.
The guard released her hair and pulled out of her. He didn’t stop Holly as she pulled her panties and pants back up. He did open the door for her so she could leave the bedroom but he was discreet enough to not follow her into the hallway. Holly knew that it would be unprofessional of him as a security guard to know her escape route.
She snuck out of the mansion on shaky legs.
Holly Valentine made this observation silently to herself. She didn’t want to wake the snoring talk show host who was sleeping in his bed. According to her sources, Hudson Williams was organizing a series of embarrassing events to occur at the recent Wall Street protests. The corporate overlords who supplied the talk show host with teenage boys and opiates were tired of the protests and they assigned the host the task of destroying popular support of the protestors. In typical fashion, the talk show host had opted for the hiring of transsexuals to stage orgies during the protests.
That was too good for Holly Valentine to pass up. Unlike Mr. Williams, Holly understood that breaking into the home of somebody to steal a list of transexuals was not exactly good journalism, but if she used to that list to do research on money transactions, communications and maybe a hard hitting interview ending in an awkward confession, then not only would she expose a scandal in the making but it might also get her a nomination for a journalism award or two.
Best of all, Holly just loved linking rightwing radio personalities to transsexuals. It gave her a warm feeling right between her thighs.
What didn’t give her a warm feeling was the creepiness of the bedroom. Hudson was a famously fat man and as he got larger, he did most of his work in his bedroom. That meant Holly had to search his bedroom/office which was decorated with far too many larger than life posters of Hudson’s face. It was as if Hudson was leering at her from every wall.
Holly looked down on herself as if her choice of clothes were somehow responsible for the panoramic staring. She had forgone her usual fabulous fashion sense for a simple black jogging suit that was appropriate for her night time break in. Sadly, even a shapeless pair of jogging pants couldn’t hide her rather awesome ass. The same went for her tight black sweatshirt which seemed to cling to every curve of her impressive breasts. Holly did know that she should have tucked her vibrant red hair under an unflattering cap but she did just have a new haircut so she pulled it into an efficient if still sexy ponytail. The reporter had a hard time consciously looking bad even when trying to be unnoticeable.
She found what she needed under a stack of male underwear catalogs. Hudson Williams kept a ledger of transsexuals complete with addresses, aliases and cock sizes. The man was a shitty repeater of lies and falsehoods but he kept surprisingly accurate records of sexual acquaintances. Who knew?
As Hudson Williams snored, Holly took photographs of his ledger. When she was finished, she tucked the camera into her bra where it was safely held in place by her heavy breast. Now all she had to do was sneak out of this bedroom, out of the hallway, through the open window and then across the mansion lawn. Easy peasy.
Holly turned around and that was when she saw the security guard. He stood there silently, looking into the bedroom with the light of the hallway behind him. She couldn’t see his face but she could see enough of his powerful body to know that there was no way she could run past him. She was fucked.
A second passed and then another. Holly was confused. He should have yelled at her. He should have made some sort of threatening move. Shit, he didn’t even break out a Tazer or a gun.
The security guard stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Holly smiled as he stepped into the moonlight. At least he had a cute face. It was the ugly guards that were the worse to deal with.
The guard put a finger to his lips and pointed to the snoring Hudson.
Holly nodded. She didn’t know what the fuck was going on but she could play along.
The guard unzipped his pants. This she understood. She was not above having sex with a cute stranger for the guarantee of safety. Hell, she considered it a bonus.
Holly made a head motion towards the door. Surely he would rather get his bribe in a safer place?
The guard shook his head. He also put his hands to her shoulders and pushed her to her knees.
Holly didn’t even allow herself to sigh. She reached into his unzipped pants and pulled out his cock. It was warm and pulsing in her hand. At least he was excited. This shouldn’t take too long.
She took him into her mouth. The guard let out a low moan that sent chills down Holly’s spine. She froze with his cock in her mouth and listened for Hudson’s snores.
The talk show host kept snoring.
This time Holly did sigh and it was with relief. A gentle thrust from the cock in her mouth reminded her to get to work. She fought back a giggle and took his cock down her throat. Holly pressed her nose hard against his crotch and let him enjoy the sensation of being entirely buried in a mouth.
The guard made no noise but his hand clenched her ponytail. She took it as a compliment.
Holly was blessed with a wet mouth but in this circumstance it might lead to an unfortunately loud sucking. The clever reporter combated this by sucking very, very, very slowly. In and out with the speed of a lazy summer blowjob, Holly took her time. She countered the slowness of her lips with a rapid flicking of her tongue against his cock.
The guard thankfully understood the need for silence but he was only human. He stood silently for the most part but when Holly’s tongue licked the tip of his cock he would moan. When she sucked him down to where his balls were on her chin then he would groan like an overdue Halloween ghost. Holly tried to avoid the more sensitive parts of his cock but as the blowjob continued, she was finding more and more spots to avoid.
It didn’t help that Holly was getting aroused herself. The heat between her thighs was rapidly growing warmer by the second. The cock in her mouth was nice but what turned her on more was the idea of getting more action in a right wing talk show host’s bedroom than he currently was. As a journalist Holly knew that she should be more neutral but as a woman who really hated the pseudo journalism of talk radio, she was fucking amused with herself.
The snoring stopped. Holly stopped licking. The guard’s cock was still in her mouth and she couldn’t help herself from sucking as hard as she could.
The behemoth radio host rolled over in his bed. The bed springs groaned with the agony of overworked metal.
The snoring started again.
Holly released the suction grip that her lips had on his cock. She didn’t understand when the guard pulled out of her mouth. When he pulled her to his feet, Holly smiled with relief. Obviously the guard was finally going to get her out of the bedroom so they could finish what they started in peace.
She was wrong. The silent guard turned her around and had her face the foot of Hudson’s bed. He yanked her sweatpants down and then pulled her night camouflage panties down as well. The fearless guard was going to fuck her!
Holly wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Okay, she was horny she would admit if they were allowed to speak but she didn’t think it was a good idea to be fucking right at the moment.
The guard’s cock pressed against her cunt. Holly bent forward enough to take him into her. She shuddered as he filled her ready cunt completely.
Okay, maybe this was a good idea after all.
Hudson Williams snored in his bed. Holly looked down on him as the guard fucked her from behind. Holly grabbed the bed frame for support and she was dismayed at how much the bed rocked back and forth. It was a large bed and it had a larger man inside it but still the bed moved from their fucking.
A minute of hard fucking later and Holly didn’t care. The sound of his cock ramming inside her wet cunt was so much louder than the nearly silent sucking she had performed earlier. She was sure that the host would wake at any moment but damn, the painkillers he was addicted to must make him a heavy sleeper.
Holly could have done without the giant poster of Hudson looking down at her from the head of the bed but it couldn’t be helped. In her highly sexed state, she couldn’t help imagine that the poster was staring at her breasts bouncing inside her sweatshirt as the security guard fucked her. Hudson might not like women but his poster sure did.
The guard grabbed her ponytail and increased the pace of his fucking. The man was grunting with the passion of his thrusts. What was his deal? Was he a disgruntled employee that just wanted to fuck in his boss’s bedroom? Or maybe after years of smuggling teenage boys into the mansion, the guard was finally happy to see some pussy?
As long as his cock stayed hard, Holly didn’t fucking care. He was fucking so hard that the sound of his hips smashing into her ass was a steady series of claps applauding their fucking. Holly had to resist the urge to applaud herself.
The bed rocked as they fucked.
Hudson snored.
Holly bit down on her lip to keep from screaming as she climaxed.
The sound of thighs on ass kept clapping.
The bed springs groaned as Hudson rolled onto his back.
The guard froze as the snoring stopped.
Hudson coughed.
They waited to see if Hudson woke up. Holly clenched with her cunt around the guard’s cock. The guard’s hand pulled her ponytail harder.
Holly rolled her hips. She did this so slowly and gently that the bed didn’t even move.
The guard whimpered. Holly felt the eruption of seed inside her. Three more rolls of her hips and his cock was completely drained.
The guard released her hair and pulled out of her. He didn’t stop Holly as she pulled her panties and pants back up. He did open the door for her so she could leave the bedroom but he was discreet enough to not follow her into the hallway. Holly knew that it would be unprofessional of him as a security guard to know her escape route.
She snuck out of the mansion on shaky legs.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Dirty Books: Death is a Ruby Light
"Death is a Ruby Light" by Paul Kenyon is book three of the Baroness series. Written in 1974, this spy book stars Penelope Worthington, a secret agent that is called upon by the United States when shit hits the fan. The fan in this story is that the Russians are sabotaging spy satellites and U.S. agents are dying. After breaking into the center of the Russian Space Program, Penelope discovers that hey, the Russians are having their satellites messed with too. The United States and the Russians team up to take on those crazy backwards upstarts, the Chinese.Mixed in with this spy story of rival agencies and early 70's space programs is a shit load of fucking and killing. The book opens with Penelope enjoying a torrid affair when assassins interrupt their frequent sex. A hurricane of bullets, threats of molestation and karate moves later, and Penelope and her team of sexy men and women, engage in more combat and sex. I greatly approve.
I reviewed another retro spy book, Lady from L.U.S.T. and I made the comment that the titillation was almost cute. I am sure it was racy for its time but now it was mostly one long book of foreplay. 'Death is a Ruby Light' is the polar opposite. They don't talk about sex in this book, they fuck. They don't breeze over the action scenes, here they they shoot and kill. I am used to reading action books from this time period so I was used to the violence but it was refreshing to see that same explicit approach to the sex.
It can take a little getting used to. It is rare to see a women enjoy a nice long fuck scene and then later get electrocuted through her nipples in a very non-sexy interrogation. At one point the main character gets raped when she was unconscious and the rape happens off screen, but it was pretty shocking. The body count gets pretty high and pretty ugly.
That is probably why I enjoyed the book as much as I did. I enjoy spy books soaking in hyper-realism but failing that, I want a spy book that is insane and pure escapism. This book is certainly that. Any book that straps the heroine so she is sitting on a death laser so it will fire through her vagina and out her head, is a winner in my library.
Also unlike 'Lay Me Odds', the plot in this book is really good. The credit goes to the pacing which is just perfect for a book this size. It opens with a sex scene to introduce Penelope, but before the assassins appear, we cut to another chapter where we watch a handful of other agents get killed because they have been compromised. It was really effective at preparing the reader for understanding how fucked Penelope was about to be, as well as creating a delay for the reader who really wants to get back to her and see how she survives. Such manipulation of the reader is essential for this genre and I was greatly impressed.
I give it Five out of Five Pam Griers
Saturday, November 12, 2011
GOAL REACHED!!!!!
HOLY SHIT!
Thanks to generous donations, we have easily reached our goal of 50$ I am stunned, humbled and actually need to return some money because we went over.
HOLY SHIT!!!
I love you guys. Thank you for pitching in. It means the world to me.
Thanks to generous donations, we have easily reached our goal of 50$ I am stunned, humbled and actually need to return some money because we went over.
HOLY SHIT!!!
I love you guys. Thank you for pitching in. It means the world to me.
Friday, November 11, 2011
The Farmer's Daughter Needs Your Cash
A terrifically talented artists has offered to do interior illustrations for the Farmer's Daughter's Almanac at the amazingly generous price of 50$. Due to fabulous over spending at Disney, this is currently outside my meager budget. Considering that the Farmer's Daughter's Almanac will be free as a PDF and will be sold only at cost, the art budget already was at a rather small amount, like zero.
GOAL REACHED!!!!! STOP DONATING!!!!!
Note, if I do not reach the 50$ amount, I will refund everyone's money. If I come close to the 50$ amount, my own excitement will pitch in and I will pay the difference.
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Fiction: The Breastinomicon Conclusion
“I thought you said that Professor Ulrich’s was on a modest academic salary,” Claire Currie said.
Mr. Dillon looked around the antechamber that the maid had brought them to. A large wooden table dominated a room decorated with expensive paintings, a few leather chairs and a chandelier that may have been crafted in another century.
“I know, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “The obvious poverty almost wrenches the heart.”
The doors to the hallway opened and the maid came back in. Behind her were a Hispanic man and woman. Mr. Dillon growled and Claire felt the hairs on her neck stand up.
“The Professor will see both of you shortly,” the maid said as she left the room.
“Sonia Garcia,” Mr. Dillon said. His voice was neutral and devoid of emotion. “Chief Procurer for the Vargas Foundation.”
The woman smiled. She was bearing more cleavage than Claire thought was structurally possible for a blouse. Thick black hair was held back by a silver headband. As Claire studied her, she noticed that the woman’s smile never reached her cold eyes.
“Oliver Dillon, head librarian for that antique collection of trivial smut called the Collette-Ashbee Collection,” Sonia said.
Mr. Dillon turned to Claire. “You may not have heard of the Vargas Foundation as they were only founded within the last fifty years. Their mission is to collect erotic books, films, magazines, and novelty items of an erotic nature.”
Sonia frowned. “What Oliver meant to say was that unlike the non-discriminating Ashbee-Collette collection which buys every single book every written no matter how shitty it is, the Vargas Foundation only adds the most prestigious and highest quality works to their collection for the future enrichment of mankind.”
“Oh yes,” Mr. Dillon said. “I forgot that the Vargas Foundation with their mere decades of existence have already decided which works of erotica will merit study in the future. I don’t knob why I keep forgetting about their clairvoyant approach to erotica.”
“This is my assistant, Manuel Ortez,” Sonia said as if she didn’t hear Mr. Dillon. “He is a superb researcher and although at least half your age, Oliver, he already posses a knack for identifying forgeries that is uncanny.”
The young man nodded towards Mr. Dillon and Claire. “Pleased to meet you,” he said in accented English.
“This is my assistant, Claire Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “Despite her tendency to confuse the names of Italian authors, she has a slightly better than average skill when it comes to spine damage analysis.”
Sonia was silent for a moment as she tried to understand if Mr. Dillon was insulting his own assistant or wildly praising her skills. Claire knew him well enough to know that it was the latter.
“It is nice to make your acquaintance, Ms. Garcia,” Claire said. She offered her hand to Sonia. The woman did not take it. Claire put her hand down and decided that she would hate this bitch too.
“Ah, you have an assistant from Britain?” Sonia said. “Her accent will give your library the appearance of intelligence that has been lacking.”
“I was going to make a witty retort but I realized that your lack of a proper education would make it difficult for you to understand my insult,” Mr. Dillon said.
“The only thing I do not understand is why he invited your sad little Collection here today,” Sonia said. “The Vargas Foundation will pay whatever it takes to secure the Breastinomicon.”
“Perhaps he wishes you here to see how a real collector of rare books handles priceless merchandise,” Mr. Dillon said. “He is a professor after all. They do love teaching the ignorant.”
“Oh please,” Sonia said. “When we purchase the Breastinomicon, we will have every page scanned and uploaded to our database. The book will be put away in a special vacuum vault, never to be touched by human hands again while the contents will be enjoyed by future students of the Vargas Foundation. This is far superior to being locked away at whatever shelf the owners of the Collette-Ashbee Collection use for their hoarded books.”
“Hoarding is such a strange word to use,” Mr. Dillon said. “We loan our books all across the world to colleges and established learning centers of erotica. We collect and disseminate without prejudice for who knows what books of today will be appreciated tomorrow?”
Before Sonia could respond, the doors to the antechamber opened. It was the maid.
“Professor Ulrich will see you now,” the maid said. “Only the senior members please. He has no time to waste with subordinates today.”
Mr. Dillon turned to Claire and leaned in close. He spoke in a whisper.
“Ms. Currie, I want you to seduce Mr. Ortez and engage in messy filthy sex. In other words, just indulge your usual appetites.”
Claire blinked. “Mr. Dillon? I think I misheard you.”
“Ms. Currie,” he said testily. “I don’t care how you do it, but you will get this man to engage in carnal activities. The honor of the Collection is at stake!”
“Behave yourself while I am gone, Manuel,” Sonia said. “This won’t take long to convince Professor Ulrich to hand over the Breastinomicon to the Vargas Foundation.”
“Only if he is suffering from a brain tumor,” Mr. Dillon said.
“This way,” the maid said.
Claire watched as Mr. Dillon and Ms. Garcia left the room. The doors closed and Claire was alone with Manuel. The young man smiled and held out his hand.
“I apologize for Senora Garcia’s behavior,” he said. “She has a long standing grudge with Senor Dillon. I have been hearing about it all morning.”
“That is very kind of you,” Claire said. She shook his hand. “I don’t know about you, but I am extremely hot.”
Before he could respond, Claire unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. Realizing that she was wearing the bust crushing black bra, she undid a few more buttons.
“Senora Currie,” Manuel said. “You may not be aware that I can see your la pecha.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I am okay with that,” Claire responded. “We are all erotica librarians, aren’t we? I am sure that we have both seen far more explicit things than my bra?”
Manuel nodded. “Yes. Senora Garcia makes me look at erotica all day long and then masturbate once a morning to clear my mind.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting,” Claire said as she pulled her shirt off. “Tell me, do you and Ms. Garcia fuck? Mr. Dillon fucks me all the time because he feels it is necessary to ease any erotic pressure we may build during the day.”
Manuel swallowed hard. “Senora Garcia has me service her quite often, with my mouth and my fingers. She refuses to aid my climax however as she says that it would not be professional.”
“Aww, that is too bad,” Claire said. “Excuse me one moment, this bra is just too confining.”
Claire reached behind her and unfastened the bra. She let out a sigh of relief that was did not involve any acting on her part. The bra fell away and Claire lifted her heavy breasts and gave them a good squeeze.
“That is much better,” Claire said. “I really like to let them breathe, you know?”
Manuel stared at her breasts. They seemed to have the same calming effect on Manuel that they did on Mr. Dillon.
“I noticed that Ms. Garcia has very impressive breasts,” Claire said. “Does she let you touch them?”
“No,” Manuel said.
“Would you like to touch mine?” Claire said.
Manuel looked to the doors of the antechamber. Claire walked closer to him and grabbed his hand. Before he could come up with an excuse not to, she placed his hand on her right tit.
“Madre dios,” he whispered. His fingers were ever so gentle as he squeezed.
“Do they feel nice?” Claire asked.
“Si,” Manuel said. His eyes were dreamy as he touched her tit.
“Well, they taste even better,” she said.
Manuel looked at her and Claire took the lead again. She gently pulled his head to her breast. His mouth knew what to do. He carefully took her nipples between his lips and sucked as gently as a new lover.
Images of Mr. Dillon’s dirty story filled Claire’s mind. She imagined them in a hotel hallway and Manuel was some random passerby. She was already wet from the indecency of their act in someone else’s home but now she was rubbing her thighs together with need.
“It isn’t easy being an assistant to a demanding boss, is it, Manuel?” Claire asked.
Manuel said no but it was hard to hear because he wasn’t letting her nipple out of his mouth.
“At least Mr. Dillon fucks me,” Claire said. “I can not imagine how difficult it must be for you to catalog and purchase erotica all day and then only have the comfort of your hand. You poor, poor, man.”
Manuel made a sound of acknowledgement from her cleavage.
“I want to do something for you, Manuel,” Claire said. “As a fellow librarian you understand? I want to give you your sexual fantasy. Tell me what you want and I will do it right here.”
“Right now?” Manuel said. He stood up and fear was clear on his face. “What if the others return?”
“Really, Manuel?” Claire said. “You really think my boss and your boss can finish insulting each other in less than an hour, much less conduct any business?”
Manuel smiled. He was adorably cute.
“Get on this table,” he said. “On your back with your head off the table. I want to fuck your mouth.”
“I like this,” Claire said and it was true. She was soaked between her legs. So often she had been used for Mr. Dillon’s pleasure, it was nice to be used for the pleasure of another assistant like herself.
She hopped on the table and spun around. Claire leaned back and her shoulders rested on the edge of the table. Her head went further until she was looking at Manuel upside down.
Manuel already had his cock out. He had strange bright yellow boxers and Claire wondered if he too had a dress code. Thoughts of his clothes vanished as she saw the thick girth of his cock. He was hard and ready to plunge into her mouth.
Claire opened her lips just in time as his cock aimed for her mouth. He came in too fast and too eager but Claire took him all the same. She recognized his need and she wanted to help him. Her mouth closed around his cock and her cheeks collapsed as she sucked.
Manuel babbled a string of Spanish words that Claire didn’t understand. She kept sucking.
She felt his hands on her tits. He had one in each hand and his fingers squeezed her soft flesh. He tried to get as much of her breasts as possible into his hands and although he would never succeed, Claire was enjoying the trying.
Claire reached with her hands and pulled his ass to her. She was impressed by how fit his ass was and she only wished that she was grabbing it while he fucked her. Oh well. This was his fantasy and Claire and her mouth was happy to oblige. She pulled him deeper down her throat until his balls were pressed against her face.
Manuel pinched her nipples and Claire moaned. After all his gentle care, she was unprepared when he twisted her nipples. Beautiful pain rippled through each breast, traveled her body and collided between her thighs. She spread her legs in need as he pinched harder.
“Oh, how I wish I could do this to Senora Garcia,” Manuel said.
Claire moaned at the thought. It didn’t bother her that she was a proxy for his wicked boss. If anything, she was happy to help.
She let go of his ass and reached for her skirt. Nimble fingers pulled her skirt up and pulled her thong to the side. Claire plunged her fingers into her sex as Manuel took advantage of her mouth and breasts.
Claire’s sex was drenched with desire. Her fingers glided in and stroked furiously. Perhaps Mr. Dillon was right; maybe she did have a hungry cunt.
Manuel pulled his cock from her mouth. Claire groaned with frustration. Was he regretting what he was doing? Before she could ask, he lifted his balls and dropped them on Claire’s mouth. She took his balls and sucked on them as he stroked his cock.
“Si, si, si,” Manuel moaned as she stroked faster.
Claire stroked herself in time with his hand. His balls tasted of sweat but she sucked and licked with all of her talent. She had the entirety of his balls between her lips and she was using the utmost care with the treasures that he entrusted her with.
Meanwhile, Mr. Dillon was half listening to Ms. Garcia’s pitch to Professor Ulrich. He supposed that he should be paying more attention to what she was saying just so that the Collection could learn the latest about the Vargas Foundation but quite frankly, he was too mesmerized by how far gone Professor Ulrich had become.
The three of them were sitting in his office except that Professor Ulrich was seated behind a glass wall. The elderly professor was breathing from an oxygen mask even though Mr. Dillon was sure that Ulrich was in excellent health. Mr. Dillon was also sure that the professor did not need to wear the latex gloves as he sat at his desk nor did the professor need to check his temperature every two minutes.
Professor Ulrich was obviously stark raving mad. Mr. Dillon found comfort in that. It would explain how the old fart could possibly find fault with Mr. Dillon in the past. It also made Professor Ulrich far easier to manipulate.
“If I may interrupt my inferior colleague for a moment,” Mr. Dillon said. “I really don’t think the elaborate procedures that the Vargas Foundation implements are all that important.”
Ms. Garcia frowned. The beautiful woman was obviously not used to being interrupted.
“You may not find our methods interesting,” Ms. Garcia said. “But I am sure that Professor Ulrich will want to know that his Breastinomicon is going to a state of the art home.”
“It does sound very impressive,” Professor Ulrich said with the thermometer still in his mouth.
“Well, sure,” Mr. Dillon said. “Technology is wonderful but it is only good as the people who apply the technology and I am sure, Professor, that you will agree that if one is lax in their vigilance, all sorts of bad things could happen. A book could get wet, rot and develop all sorts of germs.”
Professor Ulrich gasped in terror.
“This is ridiculous,” Ms. Garcia said. “If you are trying to insinuate that a single member of the Vargas Foundation has less than perfect behavior, then you are simply delusional.”
“So I assume that you instructed your Mr. Ortez to be on his best professional manners for this trip?” Mr. Dillon asked.
Ms. Garcia tilted her head up at a defiant angle. “Of course.”
“Professor Ulrich, if you will turn on your hidden camera for antechamber, you will see that my assistant, whom is acting on my instructions, will be performing a deviant act with Mr. Ortez.”
“Uh, what makes you think I have a hidden camera?” Professor Ulrich.
“Professor, I clearly remember on my third visit here that you berated me for biting a fingernail. Considering that I only did that in the antechamber, I can only assume that you have a camera.”
“Hrm,” Professor Ulrich said. He pressed a button on his desk and one of the paintings slid away to reveal a video screen.
Ms. Garcia gasped at the sight that appeared. Ms. Currie was on the table, her blouse missing and her breasts exposed for Mr. Ortez’s groping. Even more shocking was Mr. Ortez’s balls were sitting inside Ms. Currie’s mouth as he stroked himself furiously.
The thermometer dropped from Professor Ulrich’s mouth.
“Now, shall we discuss how much I should write the check for?” Mr. Dillon asked.
Back in the antechamber, Claire was stroking passionately between her legs. She couldn’t see anything except Manuel’s ass as she licked his balls. Claire didn’t need to see anything. She could hear his moans and feel the fury of his hand pumping his cock. She had become his ultimate fantasy and Claire relished her role.
Even more importantly, she was doing exactly what Mr. Dillon has asked of her. She didn’t know what his plan was but she had trust in him. Somehow this would make getting the Breastinomicon and that was vital for the library. Most of all, it was important to Mr. Dillon and she could only imagine the gratitude he might show her.
Hell, he might even say something nice.
The thought of his praise enflamed her sex. She planted her heels on the table and lifted her pelvis as she stroked faster. Her tongue licked, licked and licked Manuel’s smooth balls.
Claire’s climax sent tremors from her sex, up her stomach, across her sensitive nipples and out through her moaning lips around Manuel’s balls.
Manuel came. He shook as he erupted. Claire felt a stream of seed land across her chest, followed by a second stream and then a third. The rest of the seed slid down his cock and onto her waiting lips.
The doors flew open. “Manuel!” Ms. Garcia yelled. What she said next was just a long tirade of Spanish but it was certainly angry.
Manuel popped his balls out of Claire’s mouth and responded in Spanish. Instead of meek servitude, there was quite a bit of hostility in Manuel’s response. Claire wasn’t sure if the poor man was finally venting his frustrations or if Spanish was just an angry sounding language.
Mr. Dillon came into the room. He was carrying a briefcase that appeared to have some sort of temperature gauge.
“Come along, Ms. Currie,” he said. “We need to get back to the hotel and prepare the Breastinomicon for shipping.”
Claire grabbed her shirt and bra. She followed Mr. Dillon out of the room while Ms. Garcia and Mr. Ortez continued to yell at each other. Outside the room, the maid waited with a bucket of cleaning alcohol and a UV light.
Mr. Dillon paused in the hallway for Claire to put her blouse back on before they stepped outside. Claire’s dark body was marked with drying white seed. Claire was still feeling giddy from the orgasm so she asked an improper question.
“Did I do a good job, sir?” she asked.
Mr. Dillon thought about it. “You did . . . well.”
Claire nearly came a third time that day.
Mr. Dillon looked around the antechamber that the maid had brought them to. A large wooden table dominated a room decorated with expensive paintings, a few leather chairs and a chandelier that may have been crafted in another century.
“I know, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “The obvious poverty almost wrenches the heart.”
The doors to the hallway opened and the maid came back in. Behind her were a Hispanic man and woman. Mr. Dillon growled and Claire felt the hairs on her neck stand up.
“The Professor will see both of you shortly,” the maid said as she left the room.
“Sonia Garcia,” Mr. Dillon said. His voice was neutral and devoid of emotion. “Chief Procurer for the Vargas Foundation.”
The woman smiled. She was bearing more cleavage than Claire thought was structurally possible for a blouse. Thick black hair was held back by a silver headband. As Claire studied her, she noticed that the woman’s smile never reached her cold eyes.
“Oliver Dillon, head librarian for that antique collection of trivial smut called the Collette-Ashbee Collection,” Sonia said.
Mr. Dillon turned to Claire. “You may not have heard of the Vargas Foundation as they were only founded within the last fifty years. Their mission is to collect erotic books, films, magazines, and novelty items of an erotic nature.”
Sonia frowned. “What Oliver meant to say was that unlike the non-discriminating Ashbee-Collette collection which buys every single book every written no matter how shitty it is, the Vargas Foundation only adds the most prestigious and highest quality works to their collection for the future enrichment of mankind.”
“Oh yes,” Mr. Dillon said. “I forgot that the Vargas Foundation with their mere decades of existence have already decided which works of erotica will merit study in the future. I don’t knob why I keep forgetting about their clairvoyant approach to erotica.”
“This is my assistant, Manuel Ortez,” Sonia said as if she didn’t hear Mr. Dillon. “He is a superb researcher and although at least half your age, Oliver, he already posses a knack for identifying forgeries that is uncanny.”
The young man nodded towards Mr. Dillon and Claire. “Pleased to meet you,” he said in accented English.
“This is my assistant, Claire Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “Despite her tendency to confuse the names of Italian authors, she has a slightly better than average skill when it comes to spine damage analysis.”
Sonia was silent for a moment as she tried to understand if Mr. Dillon was insulting his own assistant or wildly praising her skills. Claire knew him well enough to know that it was the latter.
“It is nice to make your acquaintance, Ms. Garcia,” Claire said. She offered her hand to Sonia. The woman did not take it. Claire put her hand down and decided that she would hate this bitch too.
“Ah, you have an assistant from Britain?” Sonia said. “Her accent will give your library the appearance of intelligence that has been lacking.”
“I was going to make a witty retort but I realized that your lack of a proper education would make it difficult for you to understand my insult,” Mr. Dillon said.
“The only thing I do not understand is why he invited your sad little Collection here today,” Sonia said. “The Vargas Foundation will pay whatever it takes to secure the Breastinomicon.”
“Perhaps he wishes you here to see how a real collector of rare books handles priceless merchandise,” Mr. Dillon said. “He is a professor after all. They do love teaching the ignorant.”
“Oh please,” Sonia said. “When we purchase the Breastinomicon, we will have every page scanned and uploaded to our database. The book will be put away in a special vacuum vault, never to be touched by human hands again while the contents will be enjoyed by future students of the Vargas Foundation. This is far superior to being locked away at whatever shelf the owners of the Collette-Ashbee Collection use for their hoarded books.”
“Hoarding is such a strange word to use,” Mr. Dillon said. “We loan our books all across the world to colleges and established learning centers of erotica. We collect and disseminate without prejudice for who knows what books of today will be appreciated tomorrow?”
Before Sonia could respond, the doors to the antechamber opened. It was the maid.
“Professor Ulrich will see you now,” the maid said. “Only the senior members please. He has no time to waste with subordinates today.”
Mr. Dillon turned to Claire and leaned in close. He spoke in a whisper.
“Ms. Currie, I want you to seduce Mr. Ortez and engage in messy filthy sex. In other words, just indulge your usual appetites.”
Claire blinked. “Mr. Dillon? I think I misheard you.”
“Ms. Currie,” he said testily. “I don’t care how you do it, but you will get this man to engage in carnal activities. The honor of the Collection is at stake!”
“Behave yourself while I am gone, Manuel,” Sonia said. “This won’t take long to convince Professor Ulrich to hand over the Breastinomicon to the Vargas Foundation.”
“Only if he is suffering from a brain tumor,” Mr. Dillon said.
“This way,” the maid said.
Claire watched as Mr. Dillon and Ms. Garcia left the room. The doors closed and Claire was alone with Manuel. The young man smiled and held out his hand.
“I apologize for Senora Garcia’s behavior,” he said. “She has a long standing grudge with Senor Dillon. I have been hearing about it all morning.”
“That is very kind of you,” Claire said. She shook his hand. “I don’t know about you, but I am extremely hot.”
Before he could respond, Claire unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. Realizing that she was wearing the bust crushing black bra, she undid a few more buttons.
“Senora Currie,” Manuel said. “You may not be aware that I can see your la pecha.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I am okay with that,” Claire responded. “We are all erotica librarians, aren’t we? I am sure that we have both seen far more explicit things than my bra?”
Manuel nodded. “Yes. Senora Garcia makes me look at erotica all day long and then masturbate once a morning to clear my mind.”
“Oh, that sounds interesting,” Claire said as she pulled her shirt off. “Tell me, do you and Ms. Garcia fuck? Mr. Dillon fucks me all the time because he feels it is necessary to ease any erotic pressure we may build during the day.”
Manuel swallowed hard. “Senora Garcia has me service her quite often, with my mouth and my fingers. She refuses to aid my climax however as she says that it would not be professional.”
“Aww, that is too bad,” Claire said. “Excuse me one moment, this bra is just too confining.”
Claire reached behind her and unfastened the bra. She let out a sigh of relief that was did not involve any acting on her part. The bra fell away and Claire lifted her heavy breasts and gave them a good squeeze.
“That is much better,” Claire said. “I really like to let them breathe, you know?”
Manuel stared at her breasts. They seemed to have the same calming effect on Manuel that they did on Mr. Dillon.
“I noticed that Ms. Garcia has very impressive breasts,” Claire said. “Does she let you touch them?”
“No,” Manuel said.
“Would you like to touch mine?” Claire said.
Manuel looked to the doors of the antechamber. Claire walked closer to him and grabbed his hand. Before he could come up with an excuse not to, she placed his hand on her right tit.
“Madre dios,” he whispered. His fingers were ever so gentle as he squeezed.
“Do they feel nice?” Claire asked.
“Si,” Manuel said. His eyes were dreamy as he touched her tit.
“Well, they taste even better,” she said.
Manuel looked at her and Claire took the lead again. She gently pulled his head to her breast. His mouth knew what to do. He carefully took her nipples between his lips and sucked as gently as a new lover.
Images of Mr. Dillon’s dirty story filled Claire’s mind. She imagined them in a hotel hallway and Manuel was some random passerby. She was already wet from the indecency of their act in someone else’s home but now she was rubbing her thighs together with need.
“It isn’t easy being an assistant to a demanding boss, is it, Manuel?” Claire asked.
Manuel said no but it was hard to hear because he wasn’t letting her nipple out of his mouth.
“At least Mr. Dillon fucks me,” Claire said. “I can not imagine how difficult it must be for you to catalog and purchase erotica all day and then only have the comfort of your hand. You poor, poor, man.”
Manuel made a sound of acknowledgement from her cleavage.
“I want to do something for you, Manuel,” Claire said. “As a fellow librarian you understand? I want to give you your sexual fantasy. Tell me what you want and I will do it right here.”
“Right now?” Manuel said. He stood up and fear was clear on his face. “What if the others return?”
“Really, Manuel?” Claire said. “You really think my boss and your boss can finish insulting each other in less than an hour, much less conduct any business?”
Manuel smiled. He was adorably cute.
“Get on this table,” he said. “On your back with your head off the table. I want to fuck your mouth.”
“I like this,” Claire said and it was true. She was soaked between her legs. So often she had been used for Mr. Dillon’s pleasure, it was nice to be used for the pleasure of another assistant like herself.
She hopped on the table and spun around. Claire leaned back and her shoulders rested on the edge of the table. Her head went further until she was looking at Manuel upside down.
Manuel already had his cock out. He had strange bright yellow boxers and Claire wondered if he too had a dress code. Thoughts of his clothes vanished as she saw the thick girth of his cock. He was hard and ready to plunge into her mouth.
Claire opened her lips just in time as his cock aimed for her mouth. He came in too fast and too eager but Claire took him all the same. She recognized his need and she wanted to help him. Her mouth closed around his cock and her cheeks collapsed as she sucked.
Manuel babbled a string of Spanish words that Claire didn’t understand. She kept sucking.
She felt his hands on her tits. He had one in each hand and his fingers squeezed her soft flesh. He tried to get as much of her breasts as possible into his hands and although he would never succeed, Claire was enjoying the trying.
Claire reached with her hands and pulled his ass to her. She was impressed by how fit his ass was and she only wished that she was grabbing it while he fucked her. Oh well. This was his fantasy and Claire and her mouth was happy to oblige. She pulled him deeper down her throat until his balls were pressed against her face.
Manuel pinched her nipples and Claire moaned. After all his gentle care, she was unprepared when he twisted her nipples. Beautiful pain rippled through each breast, traveled her body and collided between her thighs. She spread her legs in need as he pinched harder.
“Oh, how I wish I could do this to Senora Garcia,” Manuel said.
Claire moaned at the thought. It didn’t bother her that she was a proxy for his wicked boss. If anything, she was happy to help.
She let go of his ass and reached for her skirt. Nimble fingers pulled her skirt up and pulled her thong to the side. Claire plunged her fingers into her sex as Manuel took advantage of her mouth and breasts.
Claire’s sex was drenched with desire. Her fingers glided in and stroked furiously. Perhaps Mr. Dillon was right; maybe she did have a hungry cunt.
Manuel pulled his cock from her mouth. Claire groaned with frustration. Was he regretting what he was doing? Before she could ask, he lifted his balls and dropped them on Claire’s mouth. She took his balls and sucked on them as he stroked his cock.
“Si, si, si,” Manuel moaned as she stroked faster.
Claire stroked herself in time with his hand. His balls tasted of sweat but she sucked and licked with all of her talent. She had the entirety of his balls between her lips and she was using the utmost care with the treasures that he entrusted her with.
Meanwhile, Mr. Dillon was half listening to Ms. Garcia’s pitch to Professor Ulrich. He supposed that he should be paying more attention to what she was saying just so that the Collection could learn the latest about the Vargas Foundation but quite frankly, he was too mesmerized by how far gone Professor Ulrich had become.
The three of them were sitting in his office except that Professor Ulrich was seated behind a glass wall. The elderly professor was breathing from an oxygen mask even though Mr. Dillon was sure that Ulrich was in excellent health. Mr. Dillon was also sure that the professor did not need to wear the latex gloves as he sat at his desk nor did the professor need to check his temperature every two minutes.
Professor Ulrich was obviously stark raving mad. Mr. Dillon found comfort in that. It would explain how the old fart could possibly find fault with Mr. Dillon in the past. It also made Professor Ulrich far easier to manipulate.
“If I may interrupt my inferior colleague for a moment,” Mr. Dillon said. “I really don’t think the elaborate procedures that the Vargas Foundation implements are all that important.”
Ms. Garcia frowned. The beautiful woman was obviously not used to being interrupted.
“You may not find our methods interesting,” Ms. Garcia said. “But I am sure that Professor Ulrich will want to know that his Breastinomicon is going to a state of the art home.”
“It does sound very impressive,” Professor Ulrich said with the thermometer still in his mouth.
“Well, sure,” Mr. Dillon said. “Technology is wonderful but it is only good as the people who apply the technology and I am sure, Professor, that you will agree that if one is lax in their vigilance, all sorts of bad things could happen. A book could get wet, rot and develop all sorts of germs.”
Professor Ulrich gasped in terror.
“This is ridiculous,” Ms. Garcia said. “If you are trying to insinuate that a single member of the Vargas Foundation has less than perfect behavior, then you are simply delusional.”
“So I assume that you instructed your Mr. Ortez to be on his best professional manners for this trip?” Mr. Dillon asked.
Ms. Garcia tilted her head up at a defiant angle. “Of course.”
“Professor Ulrich, if you will turn on your hidden camera for antechamber, you will see that my assistant, whom is acting on my instructions, will be performing a deviant act with Mr. Ortez.”
“Uh, what makes you think I have a hidden camera?” Professor Ulrich.
“Professor, I clearly remember on my third visit here that you berated me for biting a fingernail. Considering that I only did that in the antechamber, I can only assume that you have a camera.”
“Hrm,” Professor Ulrich said. He pressed a button on his desk and one of the paintings slid away to reveal a video screen.
Ms. Garcia gasped at the sight that appeared. Ms. Currie was on the table, her blouse missing and her breasts exposed for Mr. Ortez’s groping. Even more shocking was Mr. Ortez’s balls were sitting inside Ms. Currie’s mouth as he stroked himself furiously.
The thermometer dropped from Professor Ulrich’s mouth.
“Now, shall we discuss how much I should write the check for?” Mr. Dillon asked.
Back in the antechamber, Claire was stroking passionately between her legs. She couldn’t see anything except Manuel’s ass as she licked his balls. Claire didn’t need to see anything. She could hear his moans and feel the fury of his hand pumping his cock. She had become his ultimate fantasy and Claire relished her role.
Even more importantly, she was doing exactly what Mr. Dillon has asked of her. She didn’t know what his plan was but she had trust in him. Somehow this would make getting the Breastinomicon and that was vital for the library. Most of all, it was important to Mr. Dillon and she could only imagine the gratitude he might show her.
Hell, he might even say something nice.
The thought of his praise enflamed her sex. She planted her heels on the table and lifted her pelvis as she stroked faster. Her tongue licked, licked and licked Manuel’s smooth balls.
Claire’s climax sent tremors from her sex, up her stomach, across her sensitive nipples and out through her moaning lips around Manuel’s balls.
Manuel came. He shook as he erupted. Claire felt a stream of seed land across her chest, followed by a second stream and then a third. The rest of the seed slid down his cock and onto her waiting lips.
The doors flew open. “Manuel!” Ms. Garcia yelled. What she said next was just a long tirade of Spanish but it was certainly angry.
Manuel popped his balls out of Claire’s mouth and responded in Spanish. Instead of meek servitude, there was quite a bit of hostility in Manuel’s response. Claire wasn’t sure if the poor man was finally venting his frustrations or if Spanish was just an angry sounding language.
Mr. Dillon came into the room. He was carrying a briefcase that appeared to have some sort of temperature gauge.
“Come along, Ms. Currie,” he said. “We need to get back to the hotel and prepare the Breastinomicon for shipping.”
Claire grabbed her shirt and bra. She followed Mr. Dillon out of the room while Ms. Garcia and Mr. Ortez continued to yell at each other. Outside the room, the maid waited with a bucket of cleaning alcohol and a UV light.
Mr. Dillon paused in the hallway for Claire to put her blouse back on before they stepped outside. Claire’s dark body was marked with drying white seed. Claire was still feeling giddy from the orgasm so she asked an improper question.
“Did I do a good job, sir?” she asked.
Mr. Dillon thought about it. “You did . . . well.”
Claire nearly came a third time that day.
Monday, November 07, 2011
Deadlines, Interviews and Progress Reports with a Side of Breasts
The deadline for the Farmer's Daughter's Almanac was set for December 1st and holy crap, that is just around the corner. I will attempt to take all of the random histories, oral sex tips, recipes, cryptid sex articles and Cucumber Queen information and put it into something slightly more coherent. If you have a recipe or an article you would like to contribute, just drop me an email and I'll hook you up. In other news, I talked about myself a lot at Extreme Writing Now. My favorite part was when I speculated about being at a teenage girl's seance. I beleive you can listen to my interview directly here. I of course will avoid listening to myself and will take your word for it on how I sound.
Work on the Violatrix continues and should be ready for publication in December. That way you can get your science fiction S/M killer crew from hell erotica just in time for Christmas presents!
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Fiction: The Breastinomicon Part One
Claire Currie stood ready for inspection. She sucked in her stomach to make her already generous brown breasts strain against her white button shirt. The six inch heels forced her ass to push at a lovely angle against the short black miniskirt of her uniform. Her legs were already a deep shade of brown but the uniform required the black stockings anyway on her legs. To complete her outfit, her black hair was braided and tucked behind her head. Black glasses framed eyes that were eager to please.
“Unacceptable,” Mr. Dillon said. He shook his head and closed his eyes.
“Sir?” Claire said carefully. Mr. Dillon was her boss and his standards were often impossible to achieve. Considering that they were librarians for the exclusive Collette-Ashbee collection, the world’s greatest collection of written erotica, Claire had come to accept that the standards of the collection were as rare to achieve as the books they collect.
“Your breasts,” Mr. Dillon said. He placed one hand on her right breast and squeezed. “They are much too large today.”
Claire whimpered as his fingers painfully squeezed her breast. She also shivered a little for Mr. Dillon was not only a demanding boss and a cruel inflictor of punishments; but he was also quite attractive. His brown hair was cut to his head with a military shortness. Worry lines crossed his face like cracks in a leather bound book. It was the eyes that always did her in. His brown eyes were always intense; ready to correct, judge and inflict punishment at a moment’s notice.
“Can’t you make them smaller somehow?” Mr. Dillon said. “I worry that Professor Ulrich will think you were hired purely for your mammaries instead of a slightly better than average skill with handling rare books.”
Claire forced herself from responding to his comment. Most people would think he was insulting her book handling skills but Claire recognized it as a compliment.
“I do have a bra that is more, constrictive,” Claire said. “The only problem is that the bra is white and today you had scheduled me to wear a cherry red bra with matching thong.
Mr. Dillon released her breast and waved his hand in the air. “Fuck the dress code, woman! Put on whatever it takes to get those tits under control.”
Claire was taken back. In the years that she had worked for Mr. Dillon, the dress code for her lingerie was the most vigorously enforced rule. She lost count of the endless whippings with his belt that she had endured for dress code infractions. For Mr. Dillon to be dismissing the code meant that he was very tense indeed.
“Sir, you appear to be stressed regarding meeting Professor Ulrich today,” Claire said. To help his nerves, Claire unfastened the buttons on her shirt very slowly. Experience had taught her that the sight of her breasts had a calming effect on her boss. As Mr. Dillon’s assistant, it was Claire’s duty to do whatever it took to assuage his nerves.
“I have a right to be nervous,” Mr. Dillon said. He was staring at the slow reveal of her dark breasts. “Professor Ulrich collects rare erotica but because he is a lowly member of academia, he often has to sell pieces of his collection in order to finance new acquisitions.”
Claire removed her shirt and took her time folding it. It was a waste of time to fold a shirt that she planned to put right back on, but Mr. Dillon did so enjoy watching her breasts jiggle within her bra as she moved.
“Sounds to me like it is the Professor who should be nervous,” Claire said. “After all, he needs the money from us.”
She reached behind her and undid the clasp on her bra. Mr. Dillon watched as the red fabric peeled away from her skin. Sadly, the worry lines on his forehead only deepened.
“You would think, Ms. Currie,” he said. “But Professor Ulrich is that insufferable type of book collector who thinks that only he is qualified to care for erotic books and everyone else is a casual amateur who uses cheese for bookmarks and leaves books outside in the rain. Can you imagine such arrogance?”
“It is beyond my comprehension,” Claire said. Inwardly, she remembered all too well the seven inch dildo Mr. Dillon made her carry in her ass because she used the wrong cloth to clean a hardback book. Mr. Dillon did not react well to ill timed comparisons.
Claire picked up the white bra. It was a cruel monster that crushed and concealed her breasts. She only hoped Mr. Dillon understood how uncomfortable it would be for her to wear. That was a silly hope of course. All he cared about was watching her slide the bra over her plump breasts.
“Professor Ulrich has offered to sell the Ashbee-Collette Collection a total of eleven books,” Mr. Dillon said when Claire had clasped the bra. “Six of the books he had withdrawn from selling because he found fault with something done by the Librarian sent to collect the book. With three out of these six, it was a fault he found with my predecessor, Ms. Wei. With the other three, it was something he found fault with myself. I have no interest in committing a fourth offense.”
“He sounds like a complete loon,” Claire said. “How rare is the book he has now?” Claire began to button her shirt, starting from the bottom up. The white bra didn’t give her much cleavage but she hoped to tease out whatever cleavage she had left. Poor Mr. Dillon needed all that he could get.
“Today he is willing to part with the Breastinomicon,” Mr. Dillon said.
Claire froze in the process of buttoning. “The Breastinomicon? I thought it was just an urban legend.”
Mr. Dillon shook his head. “It was until a mad Frenchman decided to create a version. I have heard that it is quite impressive. Over one thousand pages of endless breast descriptions; it is written in Arabic and Latin with a splattering of a new language designed purely to describe breasts. It also contains fragments of poems and verse from older works that were equally obsessed with breasts. It is a book created by a mad man but also one hell of a breast lover. The Collette-Ashbee Collection must have this book.
“I am sure that you have nothing to worry about, sir,” Claire said. She finished the top button on her shirt and put her hands back behind her. “What could Professor Ulrich possibly find at fault with us?”
Mr. Dillon pursed his lips. He looked her over from head to toe. “You do appear much more presentable, Ms. Currie.”
Claire allowed herself a tiny smile.
“No, your insatiable sex mania might still be our undoing,” Mr. Dillon corrected himself. “You have a tendency of getting into sexual hijinks and this would not be the correct time.”
“I get into sexual hijinks?” Claire asked. A little bit of disbelief had slipped into her usual subservient tone.
“Don’t try to deny it, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “You are a modestly adequate librarian but your propensity towards sexual deviancy is sometimes a distraction.”
“Like the time you suggest that I stroke myself every five minutes in order to appreciate proper time management?” Claire asked.
“I may have suggested it, but you were the only who benefited from the practice,” Mr. Dillon said.
“What about the time that you had me give you a handjob while we were on the plane to this city?” Claire said.
“I merely required your assistance in personal release,” Mr. Dillon said. “You were the one that coated your fingers with the juices from your cunt in order to aid lubrication.”
“And so I assume it was my sexual hijinks that caused us to act out all twelve sexual positions in that Greek book we found yesterday?”
“Quite,” Mr. Dillon said. “I was more than willing to only do the first nine but you were the one who assured me that your anus could handle the other three positions.”
“I respectfully disagree, Mr. Dillon, but I will defer to your superior judgment when it comes to sexual deviancy.
“As well you should, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “Now lift your skirt. We must make sure that your greedy cunt does not ruin our chances at making a good impression.”
Claire did as she was told. She pulled her skirt up past her stockings and past her thighs to reveal her cherry red thong. A spot of dampness was clearly visible on her thong and Claire wondered if perhaps Mr. Dillon was correct in his assessment.
Mr. Dillon reached for her thong. He pulled it aside and ran his fingers over the thick bush of pubic hair that was part of her required uniform. Mr. Dillon could be old fashioned when it came to a woman’s pussy.
“I bet if I slipped two fingers into you right now, you would be wet,” Mr. Dillon said.
“You may be ri-oh yes!”
Claire shivered as Mr. Dillon’s fingers penetrated her. No foreplay or preparation for Mr. Dillon. When he set his mind to something, he goes right in.
“This is what I am talking about,” Mr. Dillon said. His fingers pumped at an unnatural speed within her. “You are as wet as a typical stewardess in a 60’s erotica novel.”
“Ahhh,” Claire said. She was having difficulty with forming complex thoughts. Mr. Dillon’s fingers were brusque and efficient and Claire was enjoying the thoughtless violation.
“Hurry up and climax, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “I do not have all day to finger fuck you. We have an appointment to keep.”
“Yes, sir,” Claire said. She braced her legs as she tottered on her heels. Mr. Dillon’s fingers were thrusting with relentless speed.
Mr. Dillon sighed. “You obviously need mental stimulation to finish properly.” He said this as if this was a personal defect of Claire’s.
“It may help,” Claire said between moans.
“I imagine a nymphomaniac slut like yourself would rather that I took you into the hotel hallway and let you expose your hungry cunt to every one,” Mr. Dillon said. “You would stand there happily with your skirt up and allow any one to touch you. Your greedy sex would take their fingers, their cocks and even their mouths without a second’s hesitation.”
Claire trembled and tried to stay on her heels.
“You would be available to anyone but I imagine that you would enjoy that,” Mr. Dillon said as his fingers continued to fuck her wet sex. “Your cunt would be the plaything of other hotel guests, the bellhops and even the maids. I bet you would love to have some young maid kneeling between your legs and lapping away at your sex, you shameless hussy.”
Claire shuddered. Her hands clenched her skirt. She moved her hips to match the movements of his fingers.
“But even with your sex exposed, there will always be one who will want more,” Mr. Dillon said. “Some horny older man will rip open your blouse and play with your tits. You shouldn’t let them but I know you. You wouldn’t say a word as the man pulls one of your lovely dark tits out of your bra and sinks his teeth around your nipple.
Claire cried out as her orgasm exploded between her thighs. Mr. Dillon’s fingers stroked deeper until every last shudder of pleasure was worked out of her body. She was amazed that she was still on her feet.
The fingers pulled out of her and a second later was at her lips. Claire opened her mouth and tasted herself on Mr. Dillon’s fingers. She sucked hard, enjoying to mixture of her juices and his skin.
“Now be sure to clean my fingers completely,” Mr. Dillon said. “We can’t be visiting Professor Ulrich with fingers smelling of your cunt.”
Claire’s mouth did a very thorough job.
“Unacceptable,” Mr. Dillon said. He shook his head and closed his eyes.
“Sir?” Claire said carefully. Mr. Dillon was her boss and his standards were often impossible to achieve. Considering that they were librarians for the exclusive Collette-Ashbee collection, the world’s greatest collection of written erotica, Claire had come to accept that the standards of the collection were as rare to achieve as the books they collect.
“Your breasts,” Mr. Dillon said. He placed one hand on her right breast and squeezed. “They are much too large today.”
Claire whimpered as his fingers painfully squeezed her breast. She also shivered a little for Mr. Dillon was not only a demanding boss and a cruel inflictor of punishments; but he was also quite attractive. His brown hair was cut to his head with a military shortness. Worry lines crossed his face like cracks in a leather bound book. It was the eyes that always did her in. His brown eyes were always intense; ready to correct, judge and inflict punishment at a moment’s notice.
“Can’t you make them smaller somehow?” Mr. Dillon said. “I worry that Professor Ulrich will think you were hired purely for your mammaries instead of a slightly better than average skill with handling rare books.”
Claire forced herself from responding to his comment. Most people would think he was insulting her book handling skills but Claire recognized it as a compliment.
“I do have a bra that is more, constrictive,” Claire said. “The only problem is that the bra is white and today you had scheduled me to wear a cherry red bra with matching thong.
Mr. Dillon released her breast and waved his hand in the air. “Fuck the dress code, woman! Put on whatever it takes to get those tits under control.”
Claire was taken back. In the years that she had worked for Mr. Dillon, the dress code for her lingerie was the most vigorously enforced rule. She lost count of the endless whippings with his belt that she had endured for dress code infractions. For Mr. Dillon to be dismissing the code meant that he was very tense indeed.
“Sir, you appear to be stressed regarding meeting Professor Ulrich today,” Claire said. To help his nerves, Claire unfastened the buttons on her shirt very slowly. Experience had taught her that the sight of her breasts had a calming effect on her boss. As Mr. Dillon’s assistant, it was Claire’s duty to do whatever it took to assuage his nerves.
“I have a right to be nervous,” Mr. Dillon said. He was staring at the slow reveal of her dark breasts. “Professor Ulrich collects rare erotica but because he is a lowly member of academia, he often has to sell pieces of his collection in order to finance new acquisitions.”
Claire removed her shirt and took her time folding it. It was a waste of time to fold a shirt that she planned to put right back on, but Mr. Dillon did so enjoy watching her breasts jiggle within her bra as she moved.
“Sounds to me like it is the Professor who should be nervous,” Claire said. “After all, he needs the money from us.”
She reached behind her and undid the clasp on her bra. Mr. Dillon watched as the red fabric peeled away from her skin. Sadly, the worry lines on his forehead only deepened.
“You would think, Ms. Currie,” he said. “But Professor Ulrich is that insufferable type of book collector who thinks that only he is qualified to care for erotic books and everyone else is a casual amateur who uses cheese for bookmarks and leaves books outside in the rain. Can you imagine such arrogance?”
“It is beyond my comprehension,” Claire said. Inwardly, she remembered all too well the seven inch dildo Mr. Dillon made her carry in her ass because she used the wrong cloth to clean a hardback book. Mr. Dillon did not react well to ill timed comparisons.
Claire picked up the white bra. It was a cruel monster that crushed and concealed her breasts. She only hoped Mr. Dillon understood how uncomfortable it would be for her to wear. That was a silly hope of course. All he cared about was watching her slide the bra over her plump breasts.
“Professor Ulrich has offered to sell the Ashbee-Collette Collection a total of eleven books,” Mr. Dillon said when Claire had clasped the bra. “Six of the books he had withdrawn from selling because he found fault with something done by the Librarian sent to collect the book. With three out of these six, it was a fault he found with my predecessor, Ms. Wei. With the other three, it was something he found fault with myself. I have no interest in committing a fourth offense.”
“He sounds like a complete loon,” Claire said. “How rare is the book he has now?” Claire began to button her shirt, starting from the bottom up. The white bra didn’t give her much cleavage but she hoped to tease out whatever cleavage she had left. Poor Mr. Dillon needed all that he could get.
“Today he is willing to part with the Breastinomicon,” Mr. Dillon said.
Claire froze in the process of buttoning. “The Breastinomicon? I thought it was just an urban legend.”
Mr. Dillon shook his head. “It was until a mad Frenchman decided to create a version. I have heard that it is quite impressive. Over one thousand pages of endless breast descriptions; it is written in Arabic and Latin with a splattering of a new language designed purely to describe breasts. It also contains fragments of poems and verse from older works that were equally obsessed with breasts. It is a book created by a mad man but also one hell of a breast lover. The Collette-Ashbee Collection must have this book.
“I am sure that you have nothing to worry about, sir,” Claire said. She finished the top button on her shirt and put her hands back behind her. “What could Professor Ulrich possibly find at fault with us?”
Mr. Dillon pursed his lips. He looked her over from head to toe. “You do appear much more presentable, Ms. Currie.”
Claire allowed herself a tiny smile.
“No, your insatiable sex mania might still be our undoing,” Mr. Dillon corrected himself. “You have a tendency of getting into sexual hijinks and this would not be the correct time.”
“I get into sexual hijinks?” Claire asked. A little bit of disbelief had slipped into her usual subservient tone.
“Don’t try to deny it, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “You are a modestly adequate librarian but your propensity towards sexual deviancy is sometimes a distraction.”
“Like the time you suggest that I stroke myself every five minutes in order to appreciate proper time management?” Claire asked.
“I may have suggested it, but you were the only who benefited from the practice,” Mr. Dillon said.
“What about the time that you had me give you a handjob while we were on the plane to this city?” Claire said.
“I merely required your assistance in personal release,” Mr. Dillon said. “You were the one that coated your fingers with the juices from your cunt in order to aid lubrication.”
“And so I assume it was my sexual hijinks that caused us to act out all twelve sexual positions in that Greek book we found yesterday?”
“Quite,” Mr. Dillon said. “I was more than willing to only do the first nine but you were the one who assured me that your anus could handle the other three positions.”
“I respectfully disagree, Mr. Dillon, but I will defer to your superior judgment when it comes to sexual deviancy.
“As well you should, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “Now lift your skirt. We must make sure that your greedy cunt does not ruin our chances at making a good impression.”
Claire did as she was told. She pulled her skirt up past her stockings and past her thighs to reveal her cherry red thong. A spot of dampness was clearly visible on her thong and Claire wondered if perhaps Mr. Dillon was correct in his assessment.
Mr. Dillon reached for her thong. He pulled it aside and ran his fingers over the thick bush of pubic hair that was part of her required uniform. Mr. Dillon could be old fashioned when it came to a woman’s pussy.
“I bet if I slipped two fingers into you right now, you would be wet,” Mr. Dillon said.
“You may be ri-oh yes!”
Claire shivered as Mr. Dillon’s fingers penetrated her. No foreplay or preparation for Mr. Dillon. When he set his mind to something, he goes right in.
“This is what I am talking about,” Mr. Dillon said. His fingers pumped at an unnatural speed within her. “You are as wet as a typical stewardess in a 60’s erotica novel.”
“Ahhh,” Claire said. She was having difficulty with forming complex thoughts. Mr. Dillon’s fingers were brusque and efficient and Claire was enjoying the thoughtless violation.
“Hurry up and climax, Ms. Currie,” Mr. Dillon said. “I do not have all day to finger fuck you. We have an appointment to keep.”
“Yes, sir,” Claire said. She braced her legs as she tottered on her heels. Mr. Dillon’s fingers were thrusting with relentless speed.
Mr. Dillon sighed. “You obviously need mental stimulation to finish properly.” He said this as if this was a personal defect of Claire’s.
“It may help,” Claire said between moans.
“I imagine a nymphomaniac slut like yourself would rather that I took you into the hotel hallway and let you expose your hungry cunt to every one,” Mr. Dillon said. “You would stand there happily with your skirt up and allow any one to touch you. Your greedy sex would take their fingers, their cocks and even their mouths without a second’s hesitation.”
Claire trembled and tried to stay on her heels.
“You would be available to anyone but I imagine that you would enjoy that,” Mr. Dillon said as his fingers continued to fuck her wet sex. “Your cunt would be the plaything of other hotel guests, the bellhops and even the maids. I bet you would love to have some young maid kneeling between your legs and lapping away at your sex, you shameless hussy.”
Claire shuddered. Her hands clenched her skirt. She moved her hips to match the movements of his fingers.
“But even with your sex exposed, there will always be one who will want more,” Mr. Dillon said. “Some horny older man will rip open your blouse and play with your tits. You shouldn’t let them but I know you. You wouldn’t say a word as the man pulls one of your lovely dark tits out of your bra and sinks his teeth around your nipple.
Claire cried out as her orgasm exploded between her thighs. Mr. Dillon’s fingers stroked deeper until every last shudder of pleasure was worked out of her body. She was amazed that she was still on her feet.
The fingers pulled out of her and a second later was at her lips. Claire opened her mouth and tasted herself on Mr. Dillon’s fingers. She sucked hard, enjoying to mixture of her juices and his skin.
“Now be sure to clean my fingers completely,” Mr. Dillon said. “We can’t be visiting Professor Ulrich with fingers smelling of your cunt.”
Claire’s mouth did a very thorough job.
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