Author Archives: Bethany Baker

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The Horny Sorority Ghost (Part III)

Continued from Part II

It was Halloween and a Wednesday, so the big party wasn’t until Friday, but that didn’t mean the girls couldn’t still have some holiday fun.

They lounged on the couches in the basement and watched spooky movies and munched on candy corn and giggled whenever something startled them, which was often.

In between movies, Chelsea went and grabbed a box from the closet. “I’ve got a surprise for everyone…”

The girls leaned in.

“Since Amber seems to believe this house is haunted—”

“You said it first!” Amber insisted.

Chelsea ignored her. “I thought it would be fun to break out the old ouija board and get a real answer once and for all.” Chelsea opened the box and placed the board on the ground between them.

The girls leaned in closer. 

Chelsea said, “Jess, Amber, help me out here.” The two girls giggled nervously, but obliged. They each put their fingers on the planchette and waited. 

“What should we ask first?” Chelsea said. 

Eddie felt an inexplicable draw to the board and reasoned that it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun. Before any of the girls could answer, she looped an invisible finger through the hole in the planchette and pulled it over the printed word ‘hello’.

All eyes widened and the girls looked at each other, then giggled. 

Amber said, “Hello! Ummm… My name is Amber. What’s yours.”

Eddie spelled out, E, D, D, I, E.

“Eddie? A boy?”

Eddie quickly pulled the planchette to ‘no’. Then E, D, I, T, H.

Chelsea raised an eyebrow. “A grandma ghost?” 

Chelsea, Amber, and Jess each smirked and looked at each other knowingly, sure that one of the other two girls was steering the planchette. 

Eddie pulled the planchette to ‘no’ again. 

“Have you been dead a long time?” Chelsea asked.

‘Yes’.

“How old are you?”

1, 5, 0.

“What about when you died?”

2, 0.

Chelsea grinned. “Well I daresay that makes her an honorary member of the sorority, wouldn’t you?”

Borrowing from her peeks at the girls’ phones, Eddie spelled T, Y. 

“So,” Amber said, “Oh friendly sorority spirit. What do you want, haunting this house?”

Eddie had already answered before she thought she maybe should be more subtle. C, U, M.

The girls burst into giggles.

“Chelsea!” Amber said.

“What?! We all know it’s you!”

“Nuh uh!”

The argument devolved into tickling and shoving and the board lay forgotten in the middle of them.

Finally, they settled back in, Amber wiping tears of laugher from her eyes. “Oh man, a horny sorority ghost, that’s something.”

Eddie, forgetting a moment how the board was supposed to work, moved the planchette to ‘yes’ even though none of them were touching it. 

All eyes were wide. Nobody giggled, that time.

Chelsea blinked. “Did anyone else just see that?”

All the others nodded. 

“Jess? Amber? Swear on your life, were you steering that earlier?” 

They both swore. Chelsea did too.

One of the other girls said, “Do you really think…”

“I saw a ghost, once,” said another. 

“My aunt swears they’re real,” said another. 

“W-what do we do?”

“Well,” Chelsea said, either now comfortable with the idea or mustering her courage for the benefit of the other girls, “If it’s cum she wants, then I daresay Friday’s party will satisfy.”

Eddie couldn’t quite remember what parties had been like during her first life, but she was sure that this was very, very different.

Loud music came out of a metal and plastic box. Alcohol was distributed in flimsy red cups and the dancing was not organized at all. The costumes were all sorts of things, most of which Eddie did not recognize. The ones that she could identify were a pharaoh queen, a dog, and a mouse. 

The rest represented decades of celebrities and entertainment characters, a world that Eddie was just beginning to discover with her stolen peeks at the girls’ phones and laptops and movie nights.

The sexual energy of the party was incredible. The air was alive with energy and sweat and desire, and as alcohol flowed, libidos rose.

Eddie followed her instincts to the current hot spot of arousal, which was Amber and a jock chatting at the base of the stairs. Eddie deduced that this must be Amber’s boyfriend.

“The house is haunted,” Amber said, straining to speak over the music.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. We had a seance on Halloween. She’s a sorority ghost. Wants cum, apparently.”

The jock’s arousal flared higher. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah so… I thought we might… go upstairs for a bit. Keep the ghost happy.”

The jock grinned. “That’s the weirdest proposition I’ve ever heard, but don’t have to ask me twice.”

Amber grabbed his hand and pulled him up to her room. Eddie eagerly followed. Eddie did not know how she knew it, other than that a new instinct in her had been awakened, but what Amber was doing made this an offering, and offerings were so much more potent than scavengings.

The jock was fully hard by the time Amber shut her door behind them and Eddie floated invisibly through.

Amber pushed him onto the bed and he wiggled out of his pants and she kneeled between his legs and greedily took his member into her mouth.

Eddie superimposed herself over Amber, occupying the same space.

Amber she moaned into the jock’s shaft, probably attributing the rush of tingling heat to the alcohol or arousal as opposed to Eddie’s otherworldly influence.

The electric sensation of Eddie’s lips around his shaft built the jock’s arousal very quickly.

“F-fuck! You’re so good at this… I swear I usually last way longer… fuck, I’m coming!”

Amber moaned happily with his tip on the back of her tongue. Eddie, unrestricted by physics, pulled her lips to his base.

His eyes rolled back as he shook through his climax. Eddie let a little bit of it through for Amber so that she wouldn’t get too suspicious, but she greedily swallowed the rest of it herself.

The jock started to recover and picked his head up again, and he looked through Eddie for a moment.

Eddie quickly ducked into the bed.

“Fuck…” he said. “You made me come so hard I’m seeing double…”

Eddie cursed to herself. She was already having trouble staying invisible! It wasn’t her fault, there was just so much energy! And she could feel more of it, in the house below. Welling. Growing. Begging for her to take it.

Amber clambered up and sat on the jock’s face and Eddie was momentarily distracted by making sure that Amber squirted harder than she ever had before.

After that, Eddie found it difficult to shift through the ceiling and into the attic. As she passed through the floor, dust stirred around her. 

Curious, she focused for a moment and her hand became more visible. Then, reached out for a piece of paper that the mold guy had left behind. She was able to easily lift it.

A plan came together in her mind.

Eddie stood in the middle of the party, a sheet draped over her and brushing the floor. It was late enough in the night that the least inebriated partygoers were sloppy drunk, and so Eddie wasn’t facing much direct scrutiny anyway.

She floated over and found a boy who was looking especially drunk. She tried to say something like Amber had, but he wasn’t really following. Finally, she decided to just be direct. “I want to give you a blow job in the bathroom.”

That got his attention and he jumped up, eagerly following her.

She closed and locked the door behind them, marveling that she could. “I have one rule,” she said. “Lights off.” She flicked the switch, and the little bathroom went dark.

He would be blind, but she could easily see him shrug his shoulders. “Works for me.”

Eddie shrugged off the sheet as he unzipped his pants, his erection ready and waiting.

Without further ado, Eddie enveloped him in her mouth.

“Oh fuck… what are you… that feels… wow…”

Eddie could tell that she was manifesting more physically than she ever had since she’d died. While she would not quite feel like a living mouth and throat, she would certainly feel like more than just a hot tingle.

However she felt to him, it seemed to be working. Within a couple of minutes, his breath was fast and shallow. “Fuck, oh fuck, I’m gonna!”

He absolutely emptied himself down Eddie’s throat, and she greedily drank him down.

The rush of intoxicating power left Eddie feeling not sated, but even more ravenous than before. She quickly whisked the sheet back over herself and stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the boy struggling to zip his pants.

She invited a girl to the closet and then a boy upstairs, becoming more and more solid with every infusion of energy. And the stronger she became, the more she pulled out of each subsequent donor. It seemed to be pleasant for them, just leaving them sated and ready to sleep for the night.

After a second boy in the bathroom, Eddie was quivering with so much arousal that she tried to float back up to the attic, but found that in her current state, she could no longer pass through walls.

Then, she noticed Chelsea drunkenly attempting to assemble jello shots, and she got an idea. When Chelsea was looking the other way she grabbed a tray of shot glasses and ducked out through the back door of the house — actually opening the door, imagine that! — and into the autumn chill.

Eddie finally let the arousal explode out of her in wave after wave of pleasure, and when she was done, the shot glasses were full of viscous ectoplasm. The tray was fairly well covered, too, but Eddie guessed nobody would particularly notice.

She stepped back into the house, marveling again at the fact that she had to actually open and shut the door, and set the tray on the counter.

Chelsea had gotten distracted before even managing to open the jello packets, and she was drunk enough that she didn’t think anything of it when the guests cheered that the shots were ready and tucked in.

Eddie had been optimistic, but even she had not been prepared for just how quickly the party devolved into an outright orgy.

And it was incredible. Everywhere she turned there was a climax to devour, cum to guzzle. The men, normally so easily spent, kept it up and each came three, four, five times. The girls, not subject to such limitations, came many more times than that.

They muttered about ‘who spiked the punch’ and ‘good drugs’ and ‘must be dreaming’ and they came and came and came and seemed to have a grand old time.

Eddie could not help herself and she quivered under the sheet, oozing ectoplasm all over the place, hoping it would blend into the already sticky mess of spilled beer and liquor.

But despite the mess, not a single drop of cum made it to the floor. Eddie was certain of that.

It did not take long for the news of the incredibly sexy party to spread. Amber and Chelsea were now certain that the house was haunted and eagerly planned a follow-up party.

But that was still a week off and Eddie was hungry.

She had gained a new power from all that new energy. Now, she could sense dreams.

It was late morning and Eddie drifted over to where Jess lay, sleeping in and dreaming of missing class. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Eddie settled next to Jess and as the dream became more clear to Eddie, she nudged it just a little in a sexier direction.

Okay, maybe she shoved it aggressively in a much sexier direction.

Jess was now in class, sitting towards the back, and the boy that she liked from her chemistry class had his head buried between her legs under the desk. “Fuck, Jess! You taste so good!”

Jess hushed him but then she whimpered with pleasure. His tongue felt so good in her. It felt so good that she was going to come in class! In front of everyone! She didn’t care! God, she was going to come so hard!

And Jess did, both in her dream and in reality. Eddie drank it in, the flavor sweet and urgent.

Downstairs, Amber got a text from her boyfriend that piqued her arousal. Eddie drifted down and magnified that until Amber couldn’t help but rub one out in the bathroom before she left, even though she was already late for class.

That night, Eddie made the rounds and was quite delighted that Amber’s boyfriend had decided to spend the night. The next morning, Amber would find that for once, he wasn’t much interested in morning sex. It may have had something to do with the fact that Eddie had drained him six times over the night.

It wasn’t her fault that she’d taken so much — he kept having sexy dreams! She couldn’t help but join.

And so it went, the pleasure of the residents keeping the edge off of Eddie’s hunger as they waited for the next party. Even so, as the first partygoers stepped through the door, Eddie was ravenous.

This party went much like the first, except there were twice as many people. Eddie was in better control of her power, now, able to stay invisible and move around as she pleased.

And oh, how she pleased.

At first, she sampled from the lovers that scurried up the stairs or ducked into the bathroom. Then, she tempted whoever she could to a private area and then overwhelmed them with arousal until they couldn’t help but masturbate. 

She discovered something new when she went to tempt a boy who was fantasizing in the corner and he came right there and then, Eddie just barely managing to capture his cum before it went into his jeans instead of her mouth.

She could devour their energy even when they had their clothes on. She drifted around the party, making two boys climax as they kissed each other, pulling a girl through orgasm as she danced, descending upon the couch-locked stoners and sending them quivering with pleasure.

The more she consumed the more she radiated pure sexual energy into the air around her, the more aroused the partygoers were, the more there was for her to take.

Eddie became certain, as she drained the entire party dry, that she had well and truly become a succubus.

And thus began what Eddie called her third life.

The girls of the sorority usually insisted that their boyfriends stay over with them instead of the other way around, because the sex was always better in the house. They didn’t even mind that they could usually hear each other. In fact, they found it turned them on. Eddie made sure of it. 

And there were no nightmares — Eddie saw to that. The girls slept better and woke up feeling more refreshed than they ever had before. They even passed the whole winter season without anybody catching a cold.

The sorority threw a party every weekend. Eddie glutted herself on the passions of youth. She fancied herself guardian angel and eternal honorary member of the sorority. It was nice to be part of something, again.

Years passed and as each set of seniors graduated, they passed on the secret to the next:

The house was haunted by a friendly ghost named ‘Eddie’, short for Edith.

You might hear her moaning in the attic, but don’t worry, she’s just masturbating.

If you find something sticky and viscous, try a little taste. You’ll have a good time.

Eddie wants one thing and one thing only — cum. 

Girl cum, boy cum, nonbinary cum, any kind will do. So give the good ol’ girl what she wants, alright?

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Shorts

The Horny Sorority Ghost (Part II)

Continued from Part I

Eddie whizzed over the back wall of the house’s property to the basement of a neighboring building. She couldn’t remember ever moving so fast, or it ever being so easy for her to pass over the threshold. Usually, it cost a ghost a bit of energy to leave their haunt. Now, apparently she had energy to spare.

The ghost that haunted the basement was a cranky old poltergeist who Eddie called ‘Mister’ because he had forgotten his name. Mister had been haunting the area since long before the building had been constructed. As best as Eddie could tell from Mister’s fragmented rambling, Mister had fallen down a well nearly a thousand years ago and had moved as little as possible since then.

Eddie spiraled down through the cool stones and into the basement, startling Mister from his favorite hobby of staring at the walls and waiting for time to pass.

She said, “You will not believe what just happened to me!”

Mister grumbled. “Well, hello to you too, Edith.”

“I go by Eddie, now.”

“Like a little current that curls back on itself, causing a lot of fuss and never going anywhere? Fitting.”

“No! Like— well, whatever. I need you to tell me if you know of anything like this.” Eddie recounted her night’s experience.

Mister looked bored the entire time. As Eddie finished, Mister said nothing.

“Well?” she asked.

Mister scowled. “Why are you bringing that up?”

“No, I mean— what do you have to say?!”

“Hm. You’re done?”

“Yes!” Eddie was desperate for information. And getting any specific kind of information from Mister was always pulling teeth. 

“I thought you were going to tell me something I wouldn’t believe. Instead, you’ve just explained the basics of energy transfer.”

“The what of what now?”

“Don’t you know?”

“Obviously not! Mister, everything I know about being a ghost I learned from you. How could I know anything about it if you haven’t told me about it before?”

“Well, that’s a good point.”

Eddie groaned. Just because Mister was very old and knew a lot did not mean he was wise. “Can you please explain to me what this energy transfer is?”

Mister explained that when ghosts were first formed, they all started off basically the same. But then based off of what they did, how they interacted with the living world, they would accumulate certain energies. A ghost with no energy left at all would fade from existence. A ghost that collected enough of a certain type of energy would manifest. Succubi and incubi, vampires, poltergeists, many kinds of demons, sprites and spirits, all started off as ghosts.

As Mister finished his explanation, he remarked, “I’d wondered why you were taking so long deciding what kind of ghost you wanted to become.”

Eddie sputtered, her curiosity fighting with her annoyance. She calmed herself as best she could. “Mister, let me get one thing clear. You waited… one hundred and fifty years… to tell me not only that I could die again but also that there are different kinds of ghosts?”

Mister shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that. I thought you knew.”

Eddie sighed and put her head in her hands. If she pressed Mister further, he might not tell her anything else. Better to stick with curiosity and then go yell her frustration into the night later.

“Okay so… what just happened tonight… what kind of ghost energy is that?”

Mister quirked an eyebrow at her, as if impressed by how dumb the question was. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, for I am very dumb and require your great teaching,” Eddie said, deadpan.

Mister smirked. “Succubus.”

His smirk turned a bit lecherous and Eddie was eager to change the subject. “So how did you become a poltergeist?”

“Annoy enough people and you get better at throwing objects around. Which makes it easier to cause more annoyance, and so on. Everybody hates coming down to this basement, nothing’s ever where they remember putting it. It’s delightful.”

Eddie did not think that sounded delightful at all, but she could understand the mechanism. 

“And vampires?”

“Usually start when the ghost is exposed to human blood by some other mechanism, like a nearby murder. If they develop a taste for it, they might try and cause a knife accident for another taste. Blood ghosts love the avocado trend, let me tell you. Eventually, if they get enough blood, they grow fangs and then eventually develop a fully physical form.”

Mister continued his lecture, happy to hear the sound of his own voice. Overall, Eddie found the mechanics pretty intuitive. A ghost defending a certain tree for long enough might become a nymph. Saving drowning folks might make them a river spirit. Leading hikers into danger might make them a will’o’the wisp.

And, as Eddie had just learned herself, cum made a succubus.

As Mister tried to circle back around to that with his weird smirk again, Eddie thanked him for his help and whizzed back up from the basement. She returned to her attic, floating back and forth as she pondered.

Was becoming a succubus what she wanted? Did she even really have a choice? Eddie tried to remember her first life, as if that might have some clue, but it was little more to her now than a date she counted from to see how long she’d been a ghost.

She considered the other types of ghosts. Becoming a nymph or a sprite sounded nice, but she didn’t really want to leave her house and go searching for trees or streams. That seemed dangerous, too likely to result in her running out of energy and fading out of existence. 

Becoming a vampire seemed too violent, becoming a poltergeist too mean.

It was hard to think about what she wanted to become, but it was easier to think about what she wanted to do.

She didn’t want to take anybody’s blood, or make anybody frightened or annoyed, or live out in the wilderness. What she actually wanted, she realized as soon as she let herself ask the question, was to drink all the cum in the world.

The thought made her vibrate with eager energy.

And so Eddie decided. She would become a succubus.

Over the next week, as Eddie became bolder and participated in more and more of the house’s orgasms, she became more powerful. And as she became more powerful, it became harder and harder to hide herself.

One girl caught a glimpse over her shoulder. Another caught Eddie over her and decided she must be dreaming. A boyfriend was sure he heard another voice in the room. Chelsea heard moaning in the attic when she was sure nobody else was home.

Eddie tried to behave but she simply couldn’t help herself. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be hungry, but she was sure this was it. The need gnawed at her, hollowing her out from the inside until it drove her to whisk through the house, whispering and touching and trying to goad someone into masturbating.

She could smell arousal she could not help but move towards any sound of pleasure.

Chelsea and Amber, a brunette, discussed the situation over a breakfast of toaster pastries one morning.

“You really think it’s haunted?” Amber said.

“No, of course not,” Chelsea said. “But I do think we need to check out the attic. Somebody’s probably sneaking in, and we don’t have a lock on the attic door. If it’s one of the girls, I honestly don’t give a shit, go fuck in the attic if you think it’s hot, right? But like, if it’s randos? That’s not gonna fly.”

“And the reason you haven’t already checked it out is…” Amber grinned mischievously.

“Because it might not be safe—” Chelsea started.

“Because you think it’s haunted,” Amber spoke over her.

Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“I’ll come with you though,” Amber said. “I’d honestly much rather it be haunted than have somebody sneaking in, that’s creepy as fuck.”

“Right? If anything looks out of place, we’ll just call in to get a lock on it or something.”

What they found in the attic was quite a few things out-of-place, but not in the way they expected.

Chelsea edged forward carefully with her flashlight, cautiously poking some fresh ectoplasm with the tip of her sneaker. “What the fuck is this stuff?”

Amber wrinkled her nose, still standing on the ladder, only half of her body in the attic. “Some kind of slime mold? Gross.”

“I guess if anyone were breaking in, we’d see footprints in this stuff… but ew.”

Amber frowned. “So wouldn’t we also see if someone had been coming up here to fuck?”

Chelsea’s brow furrowed. “Yeah…” She stepped carefully around the ectoplasm, surveying the border of the attic. There were no windows, no ways in or out, no loose boards.

Eddie watched them from a shadow, quickly zipping out of the way of Chelsea’s flashlight beam. 

Previously, Eddie couldn’t have been visible at all without quite a bit of focus. Now, it was the opposite — she was only fully invisible when she was trying to be. And it was getting more and more difficult.

As Amber and Chelsea assured themselves that nobody could get in or out of the attic, they did not seem to become more comfortable.

Amber chuckled wryly. “Y’know, if I believed in ghosts… I’d say this stuff looks like ectoplasm…”

Chelsea snorted. “And if I believed in ghosts, I’d say one was creaming itself up here on the reg.”

They caught each others’ eyes and didn’t laugh.

“But I’m sure it’s just slime mold,” Amber said.

“And I’m sure it’s just a trick of the wind or the vents or something,” Chelsea said.

And then, despite the heat, both girls shivered and they left the attic as quickly as possible, slamming the trapdoor shut behind them.

Eddie flickered back into visibility in the corner. That had been close. Very close.

The mold guy came and said it wasn’t mold, but he didn’t know what it was, so he recommended they run a fan to air out the attic and to keep an eye on it.

Chelsea and Amber did so, hauling up one of the cheap oscillating fans that they’d bought for every room after being unable to figure out why it was so hot all the time.

Eddie had no idea what was going to happen, but she was very curious. She hadn’t made ectoplasm before the sorority had moved in, and she suspected it was somehow part of her gradual transformation into a succubus. She had no interest in asking Mister about this part, so all she could do was watch and find out.

The ectoplasm did dry fairly quickly, so where it wasn’t fresh, it just appeared as part of the dust that was otherwise expected in an old house like this one.

As Amber plugged in the fan, the cord just barely stretching from an outlet in the hallway to the edge of the attic floor, that dust billowed up in a massive cloud.

“Gross!” Chelsea spat, covering her face with her shirt and scurrying down the ladder.

Amber winced and dashed over to the window in the hallway, opening it. She pulled her shirt over her face too as the dust flowed down into the hallway.

The two girls grimaced and jogged down the stairs, only uncovering their faces once they were in the kitchen.

“Bleck,” Amber said. “Next time, we’re making maintenance do that part.”

“No kidding, I got a whole face full!” Chelsea frowned. “The grossest part is, it tasted sweet, like when you’re making a protein shake and you inhale some of that erythritol stuff? Ugh, it probably is some kind of weird mold.”

“If you get sick, my dad will help sue,” Amber said. 

“Appreciate it.”

“Let’s wait outside,” Amber said. “Later, we can get one of the freshmen to vacuum and put it all back together.”

“Seems fair enough to me,” Chelsea said.

But, as she and Amber reached the back door of the house, Chelsea hesitated.

Amber had no idea why, but Eddie did. Chelsea was, very abruptly, feeling incredibly aroused.

“I’ll meet you in a sec,” Chelsea said, “Gotta use the ladies room.”

“Sure.” Amber stepped outside. 

Chelsea ducked into the bathroom and before the door was even latched, her hand was down her pants. 

She propped her other hand against the door frame and leaned heavily against it, barely managing to stay standing.

Her arousal was building quickly. Eddie’s ectoplasm had this kind of effect? Even just the dust of it?

Eddie could not possibly stay invisible with this much energy vibrating through her, but Chelsea’s eyes were squeezed shut so it was as safe as it would ever be.

Chelsea fought to contain a scream of ecstasy as Eddie slipped her fingers inside. Chelsea squirted as she climaxed, once, twice, a third time.

Eddie soaked it all in, dizzy with power, certain that she was clearly visible but having a hard time forcing herself to care about it.

As Chelsea’s hand finally slowed and she sighed into the door frame, Eddie dropped into the basement with not a moment to spare before Chelsea’s eyes flicked open.

Even on the other side of the floor, Eddie was now in a similar predicament to the one she had caused Chelsea to be in.

The basement had been turned into a proper living space in the renovation, and the sorority had added a ring of couches, tables for pool and ping-pong, and a kegerator.

The room was fully open except for a row of closets on the back wall that were stuffed with holiday decorations and party supplies, and there was no bathroom.

Eddie was wary to float back upstairs, visible as she was, but she was also wary to release herself here, where the ectoplasm would be obvious.

And her capacity for problem solving was greatly limited by the intoxicating arousal.

The best that she could do was slither under one of the couches, just in the nick of time. She quivered in the shadows, unable to keep from moaning, a puddle of ectoplasm expanding underneath her.

Then there was the flick of the light switch and the basement was bathed in light.

Footsteps down the stairs. Amber’s feet, hesitating on the last step. “Jess, is that you?”

Amber leaned back and forth, trying to survey the whole room without stepping onto the floor. “I promise I won’t judge you for rubbing one out, we’ve all been there…”

Eddie remained silent.

Amber bounced on the balls of her feet. “Fuck, maybe this place is haunted…” She jumped up the stairs two at a time.

Continued in Part III

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The Horny Sorority Ghost (Part I)

[WP] Haunting a large abandoned house for the last 150 years has been pretty boring. But, it seems the local college just bought your building on the cheap and intends to turn it into a sorority.. from DirtyWritingPrompts

Content Warning: This story is playful and light. However, I wanted to provide a heads-up that our horny sorority ghost does not ask permission before instigating her sexual mischief or peeping on the house’s residents.

All characters are depicted as 18 and older and all human/human interactions are enthusiastically consensual.

Edith had been haunting the same Tudor-style mansion for the past 150 years. Though, she had been going by ‘Eddie’ lately, after the new ghost across the street had told her that ‘Edith’ was an old lady name.

Edith had asked, “How can it be an old lady name if I’m twenty?”

“How long have you been twenty?”

Edith had frowned. 

The other ghost just smirked. “I’ll call you Eddie instead. Chicks with guy nicknames are hot.”

Eddie didn’t like them, but she did like the new name. She even just liked that it was something different, something new. 

The house had been abandoned for the past fifty years, even as a lively urban center had sprung up around it. Prospective buyers complained on the front stoop. The owner was a hold-out, paying the property taxes with family money while they waited for the market to boom.

It seemed like it finally had, and before the real estate agent could even put the sign in the front, the house was sold.

Eddie had watched with immense curiosity as the contractors had come to renovate her house. It got new floors, replacement windows, shiny appliances and a fresh coat of paint.

Eddie worried a bit that she might be somehow exorcised by the changes. Only when the new residents came through the front door would she believe that it wasn’t too good to be true.

Or so she thought. Because when the gaggle of sorority girls rolled up to the house with their crop tops and leopard print suitcases, Eddie couldn’t believe it at all. It was WAY too good to be true.

It was a myth that ghosts were always cold. They could be warm, too. And Eddie was feeling very, very hot.

A blond girl stepped further in, Eddie just managing to dart out of her way. She was completely invisible, but humans still noticed when they passed through a ghost.

“It’s like a sauna in here!” the blond complained. “Come help me get the windows open!”

As the sorority girls unpacked, the heat got to them and they were soon sweating. And then that got to Eddie, and the house grew hotter. And then the girls stripped off their crop tops and their jean shorts and unpacked in bras and underwear. Eddie was loathe to leave, but she whisked back up to the attic lest she give any of them heat stroke. 

She must be dreaming. Except ghosts didn’t dream. So either she was finally becoming one of those crazy ghosts, or it was really happening.

It was really happening.

And then it all got so much better as the girls settled in. There were naked in the shower and then in sports bras and panties, they were giggling with each other and then heading to bed, they were watching porn and masturbating and complaining that the whole house was so very, very hot.

“Maybe it means the heating bill won’t be so bad in the winter,” the blond, whose name was Chelsea, had offered at breakfast.

Eddie felt a bit bad, but she couldn’t help but watch. And she meant that. She had tried to not to! But in 150 years she’d forgotten whatever manners she’d ever had, and it was all so new and delightful, and if they didn’t know, it couldn’t hurt them, right?

But she still wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. She could not possibly stay this hot and bothered forever. Or even for one more day, really. 

The girls heard moaning from the attic as Eddie relearned how to masturbate. As a ghost, the trick seemed to be just fantasizing until she felt overwhelmingly aroused, and then her whole manifestation quivered with energy and pleasure, and then she finally felt a deep and profound release, and when she was finished she found not a small amount of ectoplasm around her.

The next morning, the girls rejoiced that the house had finally cooled off. They talked about the moaning in little clusters, and Eddie was relieved to find that they each blamed a girl in a different cluster, leaving nobody suspecting an otherworldly presence. 

A month later, the first boy entered the sorority house. He climbed up the outer trellis to Chelsea’s room, more to show off that he could than for any real fear of judgement from the rest of the sorority.

Eddie smelled him before he was even inside and drifted into the upper corner of Chelsea’s bedroom to watch.

He was broad and muscular and soon dripping with sweat.

He grunted as he stripped. “You should get a window AC.”

“But then you couldn’t climb in through my window.”

“Oh. Good point.”

Chelsea stripped off her clothes and stood before him, glimmering with sweat, and he had no more complaints.

He fondled her breasts and then sucked on her nipples. She stroked his shaft and then kissed him hard.

It was not long before he was fucking her doggy style, moaning softly with each thrust.

Chelsea gasped with pleasure, her fingers circling over her clit. “Y-yes, that’s my spot!”

His grunting deepened.

“Wait! You have a condom, right?”

Eddie saw the look of confusion on his face and the unopened condom on the nightstand.

“Y-yeah,” he grunted, “of course.”

If he’d been lying instead of dumb, Chelsea probably would have kicked him out. But as it were, she returned to her clit. It didn’t seem like he was going to last long enough for her to come, and Eddie didn’t appreciate that either.

Eddie had to do something. And much to her surprise, her body, incorporeal as it was, knew exactly what to do.

She drifted into the bed, her head passing through Chelsea’s body as she aligned her mouth over the boy’s shaft.

How it felt to have a ghost pass through you varied, and based on Chelsea’s gasp and shamelessly loud moan, the feeling was pleasant for her.

“I d-don’t know what you’re doing,” Chelsea said, “but whatever it is, don’t stop! I’m c-coming!”

Chelsea’s orgasm and the tingle of a ghostly presence around his shaft sent the boy over the edge. With a grunt, he thrust into Chelsea one more time and then came.

His cum puddled on Eddie’s tongue, contained in her ghostly mouth. 

As the boy withdrew, Eddie followed. Chelsea shivered with pleasure as Eddie made sure all of the cum stayed on her tongue.

Once she was floating in the air between them, Eddie swallowed.

A surge of arousal and power quivered through her and if it had not surprised her so much, she herself would have come right there, squirting ectoplasm everywhere.

And then Eddie saw that the boy saw her. Eddie looked down — the surge of energy had left her ever so slightly visible. She quickly vanished again.

He blinked and shook his head.

“That was incredible,” Chelsea said, rolling over. “What did you…” And then she saw his naked dick. His empty hands. “Where’s the condom?”

“Oh! Uhhh…” he looked dumbly at himself, but glanced back to where he’d seen Eddie.

Chelsea’s expression turned to anger as she saw the unopened condom on the night stand and shook it at him. “Rick, seriously? You asshole!”

“Shit, I really thought I’d put it on!”

Chelsea put her head in her hand and shook her head. “Oh my god, you are such an idiot. Lucky for you I’m on the pill or else you would not be leaving here with your dick intact.”

“C’mon, babe, it’s not that big of a deal…”

Chelsea frowned, stood, and crossed her arms. Even naked as she was, the posture was intimidating and her voice cold as ice. “Get the fuck out of my room, you prick.”

“So uh, Thursday…”

“Jesus fucking Christ, dude. We are never hooking up again.” 

Now he was starting to get angry. “W-well if you think I wanna hook up with you after you’ve been such a bitch…”

Eddie decided to have a little fun. She drifted around behind Chelsea, matched her posture, and then allowed herself to become visible again for just a moment.

His eyes went wide. 

Chelsea glanced over her shoulder, but saw nothing. 

“T-this place is fucking haunted!”

Chelsea snorted. “Are you high?”

“I’m gonna tell everyone this place is fucking haunted!”

“Go ahead, free advertising for our Halloween party.”

He scrambled down the trellis, fell the last five feet, then scurried off into the night. 

Chelsea rolled her eyes and flopped back into her bed. She pulled out her phone and Eddie drifted over her shoulder to peek. Eddie still marveled at the magical little tablets. She remembered her first life in only bits and pieces, but she had a feeling that the printing press had just barely been new when she was alive. 

Chelsea typed, Figures that when the guy’s a piece of shit, the sex is amazing…

The reply from Amber bubbled up, Sry babe, u deserve better. What happened?

He ‘forgot’ the condom

WTF!

ikr

did u kick his ass?

haha yeah, he’s not coming back

rip ur sexy times

ikr, though telling him off kinda turned me on, ngl…

The reply was just the symbol, 😈

Chelsea smiled wryly and flopped back into her pillows, letting her phone fall to the side. 

Chelsea tentatively reached a hand down to her vulva. She sighed at the pleasure, relaxed, and started to rub circles around her clit.

Eddie was transfixed and feeling uncharacteristically bold. She reached her hand out and placed it over — or more accurately, within — Chelsea’s.

Chelsea moaned. “Ohhhh fuck…”

Something deeply instinctive overcame Eddie and she curled her fingers around and pressed them inside of Chelsea. 

It was not long before Chelsea was gasping with ecstasy and Eddie was buzzing with energy.

Sweat beaded and ran down between Chelsea’s breasts, down her waist, down her thighs. Eddie felt so very, very warm.

And then, somehow, it escalated even further. Chelsea gasped and a clearish, viscous fluid squirted out of her and landed on Eddie’s palm — landed, and did not fall through. Eddie had no idea what was happening except that she wanted more of that.

Two, three more times, Chelsea moaned and wriggled and squirted. And then her head tipped back with abject pleasure and she climaxed, filling Eddie’s hand with her fluids.

Eddie’s whole form was quivering with the most intense energy she’d ever felt. The fluid soaked into her skin and filled her with a surge of power.

Chelsea relaxed back, eyes closed.

Eddie realized that she was no longer invisible, and quickly floated up through the ceiling and into the attic.

It only took the shortest moment of remembering Chelsea’s intense climax to send the waves of intense pleasure and release quivering through Eddie’s form. And even after, she felt more alive than she ever had since she died. She could not just settle in for the night. She needed to understand exactly what had happened to her. 

Continued in Part II

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Hunter and June

Hunter was tall, dark, handsome, pretty, good at tennis, bad at cooking, finally starting to make money at freelance photography, deeply fond of cats, allergic to eggs, a hopeless romantic, and intersex.

They really felt that the ‘intersex’ part was low on the list of interesting things about themselves, but Hunter hadn’t been able to find many people who agreed, which made the whole ‘hopeless romantic’ part difficult. Navigating in-person encounters had become such a chore that they’d been keeping to long-distance hookups, lately. 

Phone sex was easy, it was nice. Hunter didn’t have to explain anything. Not that it was that difficult to explain. They had a penis. It didn’t really get hard. No, there wasn’t anything wrong with it. It responded just like any penis attached to an estrogen-rich bloodstream did. Yes, they could still orgasm. Yes, they still ejaculated. No, it wasn’t like male ejaculate. 

It was the follow-on questions that really got to Hunter. No, I can’t fuck you. No, I’m not going to put on a strap-on for you either. No, I don’t want you to fuck me. Yes, my genitals are real. Yes, my breasts are real. No, I’m not trans. No, I don’t have any interest in changing my pronouns. No, I don’t want to go on T to ‘fix my dick’.

So, Hunter liked phone sex. They could do exactly what felt good to them, enjoy some intimacy with the person on the other side, but generally not have to worry about intrusive questions. And if anybody got inappropriate, Hunter just blocked them. It was much easier to ghost someone when you never had to worry about bumping into them at the grocery store.

But there was a problem with Hunter’s plan, and her name was June.

June was short, brown-haired and freckled, cute, feisty, good at video games, great at cooking, roommate to two tabby cats, not allergic to anything, cisgender, and pansexual.

They’d had phone sex every night for the past two weeks and it had been, to put it simply, _very hot_.

Hunter was starting to feel like they could tell June almost anything, and so Hunter’s avoidant attachment style was starting to panic. Hunter was glad that they had met June in this phase of their life, and not earlier. Even a year prior, Hunter would have found some excuse to withdraw and ghost her. But this time, they managed to just exist in the discomfort.

Hunter was feeling quite proud of themselves for how they were coping, but June could never let anything be easy for long.

“Hey, so I was thinking…” June said, during their evening chat. “I know you said how you like things to be long distance, but… I just found out I have a work trip next month and I’ll be in town!”

June paused, clearly waiting for Hunter’s response.

Hunter’s mouth was dry and they couldn’t find words.

There was a shuffling sound from the other side of the phone. “No pressure, of course. I know it’s kind of fast. And to be clear, I’ll have a hotel! Work is paying. So we could just get dinner. But I’d… I’d really like it if you came to my hotel room, maybe. Okay, I’ll shut up now.”

Hunter took a deep breath. “I— um, I have to tell you something, first. You might change your mind.”

“I highly doubt it, but go for it.” June’s ‘just try me’ smile was audible.

As succinctly as they could, Hunter explained their sexual anatomy. “D-do you have… any questions?” Better get everything out of the way, first. And Hunter had a glimmer of perverse hope that June might react poorly, and then Hunter could block her and be on their way, inner feelings still tidily repressed.

“Just one,” June said. “What feels good to you?”

Nobody had ever asked Hunter that before. They did their best to answer. June asked clarifying questions. Which quickly devolved into dirty talk. Which quickly devolved into phone sex.

At June’s request, Hunter narrated everything that they were doing to themselves. 

June loved it. Hunter loved that she loved it. It was their hottest and heaviest session yet.

And so it was decided. They would indeed meet over June’s work trip.

At risk of chickening out, Hunter had tried to think about the upcoming moment as little as possible until they were standing at the entrance to June’s hotel room.

June opened the door and greeted Hunter with the biggest smile and an even bigger hug.

June was a head shorter than Hunter and her cheek pressed against Hunter’s breast. A thrill of hot excitement shivered down Hunter’s spine as they pulled June close.

June invited them further in to the room. There was a queen sized bed, a desk and two chairs, a mini fridge, a bathroom.

“Sorry it’s not the Ritz,” June said. “I tried to get a king but corporate budget cuts.” She shrugged.

Hunter just nodded. They wanted to say something about it being nice to just be in the same room as June at all, but the words got all tangled between their head and their mouth. God, she was pretty. And she smelled so good. Like flowers and coconut.

When June turned and smiled at them again, Hunter’s heart skipped. She said, “I thought it might be a bit overwhelming… so I, um, just planned a night in. I have board games! And Mario Kart! And wine!” She bent over the mini-fridge to fetch the beverage.

Hunter’s eyes gravitated towards her ass.

As June stood, she caught their eyes. She grinned. “Or we can skip right to it, if you prefer.”

Hunter blushed. “Maybe some wine and a board game?”

Three quarters of the way through the bottle of wine and halfway through the game, the board was pushed aside and forgotten.

June made the first move, leaning into a kiss that Hunter eagerly returned. They moaned into each other, hands exploring, learning, grasping.

Hunter could have stayed like that forever, except for that June’s hand found their member from over their jeans. Her fingertips circled gently just like Hunter had said they liked, and they gasped and moaned.

June teased them like that for a long few minutes, and the heat of Hunter’s arousal built and built until they couldn’t imagine doing anything other than undressing with June.

June was thinking the same thing and she broke the kiss to pull her shirt and bra off over her head, her breasts now hanging freely. She wiggled out of her pants and hurried Hunter along to do the same.

Hunter had no chance to worry about June’s reaction because they were already so aroused, because June’s eyes were so wide and kind and shining, and because June’s hands were already down Hunter’s pants.

Hunter moaned again at the feeling of her skin on theirs, of another’s touch in one of their most sensitive areas. It felt so vulnerable. But they trusted June. 

Once Hunter’s pants were off, June pushed them to the edge of the bed and then kneeled on the floor between their legs.

Hunter was transfixed by June’s eyes looking up at them, and then their half-erect member was entirely in June’s mouth.

“Oh, fuck!”

June paused and gently withdrew. “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No! Not at all, fuck that feels good.”

June beamed and then enveloped Hunter’s member again.

Her mouth was so hot and soft and slick. Hunter’s member pulsed with their heartbeat and June swirled her tongue over it to the same rhythm. June sucked gently and Hunter gasped. 

June moaned her appreciation and the vibrating sensation made Hunter’s mind go blank with pleasure. June noticed the positive reaction and hummed even deeper, and soon Hunter was trembling with ecstasy.

Hunter may have climaxed just from that, but June was not done exploring. She gently pulled Hunter’s shaft from her mouth, wiggling her tongue underneath all the while. 

She caught the soft shaft in her hand and swirled a fingertip under Hunter’s frenulum as she dipped her mouth a bit lower and licked at Hunter’s balls.

“Oh fuck! June, that feels so good…” Hunter reached down and brushed June’s hair back from her face. “You feel so good…”

June hummed triumphantly and Hunter’s eyes rolled back with pleasure.

Only June’s pause brought Hunter back to conscious awareness.

“I want to suck on them,” June said, licking her lips. “Is that okay?”

Hunter nodded emphatically and then June did as she’d said. It was incredible. The heat of her mouth, the tingling coolness of the air on their member, the insistent teasing of her fingertip at their frenulum, the pleasant tug of the suction.

After giving each of Hunter’s balls ample attention, June slid her tongue all the way up from Hunter’s perineum, along their soft shaft, and enveloped them in her mouth again.

The sensation was even more intense, even more overwhelming than before. June was building up Hunter’s arousal in every possible way and then some. They were going to come so hard. But what about June?

Hunter mustered their wits. “June this is amazing, but… I feel a bit selfish.”

June looked up at them with her big, brown eyes and Hunter nearly fainted.

She leaned back and worked their member in her hand again. “Don’t. This is really turning me on.” She dipped a hand down to her vulva then reached up and pressed her fingers to Hunter’s lips.

The smell of June’s flower was spicy and sweet and Hunter pulled her fingers between their lips, sucking at them.

June gasped and shivered. “Yeah, see, you put that tongue on my pussy and I’m gonna come in like two minutes, so you’ll have ample opportunity to reciprocate, k?”

Hunter’s lips turned to a grin around June’s fingers and they sucked harder, rolling their tongue under and between her fingers.

June whimpered and shivered again. “Okay, okay, let me suck your dick!”

Hunter laughed and released her.

June hesitated. “W-was that okay, that I said—”

“It’s hot as fuck,” Hunter said, and they meant it.

June’s smile made their heart skip again. “I know you said you don’t like anal, but how do you feel about fingering? No wrong answers. I just want you to feel good.”

“Um…” Hunter already felt so good, they struggled to find any words. “One or two fingers is good. I like rimming and my prostate’s pretty sensitive.”

“Roger that.” June dipped her fingers into her flower again, getting them nice and slick.

Hunter’s heart pounded with anticipation.

June grinned, took their shaft in her mouth again, and placed her fingertips at their rim.

Hunter nearly jumped out of their skin, it felt so good.

June circled her fingers gently around their rim.

Hunter moaned and melted back onto their elbows on the bed, shifting their leg to give June a better angle.

“Oh, you like that?” June said.

“Yes…” The pleasure was electric, all-consuming, overwhelming.

June teased them for a bit longer, keeping the pace slow and careful as she pressed first one, then two fingers inside. She curled her fingers towards herself, pressing against Hunter’s prostate from inside and their perineum with her thumb from the outside.

“Oh holy shit, June…”

“You think I can make you come this way?”

“I, uh, yeah… probably… e-especially if you keep up that pressure and hum with my shaft in your mouth again…”

June grinned. “I’m gonna make you squirt so hard!” She took Hunter’s shaft into her mouth again, this time with purpose.

Hunter moaned at the mixed arousal and pleasure of June’s words and actions. Now, with their shaft in her mouth, one of her hands at their balls, her other hand up their ass, her words buzzing through Hunter’s mind, she was really stimulating them in every possible way.

Hunter wanted it to never end and yet could not bear another moment of it without release.

This was everything that Hunter had told June they liked and more. Hunter was quite sure that their shaft could have been big, small, hard, soft, nonexistent or anything else and June would have showered them with this same loving attention.

As it were, Hunter loved the way that they could be entirely within her mouth, her lips pressing against their base, with no fucking or choking or straining required. They loved the way their blood pulsed through the half-hard member, the way they could feel it flowing, the idea of June feeling the same with her tongue.

They loved June’s fingers up their ass, the overwhelming sense of her around them, and in them, running through their blood, entangled with their body.

Most of all, Hunter appreciated that June hadn’t tried to approach their anatomy like a pussy or like a cock, but neither had she treated it as alien. Instead, she treated it exactly as it was — Hunter’s own unique configuration of more or less the same parts that everybody had.

And God, it was hot.

Urgency built inside of Hunter, heat flaring in compounding waves, a dizzy pleasure in their head. Their ass clenched around June’s fingers as they panted and moaned. Their breathing became deeper, quicker, as the first flickers of pre-orgasmic pleasure darted through them like sparks.

“June, don’t stop!”

June’s moaning redoubled and the sensation pushed Hunter closer to the edge.

“J-just like that… yes…” The humming, June’s tongue swirling, the tugging at their balls, her fingers pressing at their prostate, it was all so intense. Hunter’s muscles tensed and did not release, preparing for the climax. 

The last moment between the edge and the fall was the feeling of heat flowing through their shaft, the start of their ejaculation. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me… June, yes, yes, fuck, yes!”

Each wave of pleasure rippled through Hunter’s whole body, bringing a pulse of their cum onto June’s tongue as she sucked it out of them, again and again. Hunter lost track of how long and how many and they may have even come a second or third time and it all flowed together into overwhelming minutes of bliss.

Finally, June noticed Hunter’s heightening sensitivity and she gently withdrew.

June looked up at Hunter and licked her lips. “You taste so good.”

Hunter moaned as their over-stimulated body tried to react to June’s words with renewed arousal. “You feel so good…” Hunter collapsed back onto the bed, floating in the afterglow.

By the time June washed her hands and returned, Hunter was ready to return the favor. A bit inspired by June, they asked her what she liked instead of trying to guess. She was all too happy to assist and true to her word, she came within two minutes.

June snuggled in next to Hunter and they curled into each other, warm and content.

As the lovers finally stirred, Hunter caught June’s eyes. “Hey, I was thinking… I’ve always wanted to do a shoot in Chicago. Mind if I visit you next month?”

June beamed. “You better!”

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Acardoc’s Instant Aphrodisiac!

[WP] Uh-oh, those grey-market aphrodisiacs came with side effects. Roll 1d6 to find out the details… (Table enclosed!) from DirtyWritingPrompts

[Rolled a 1!]

Chelna Leygard knew that she should not be buying anything off of one of the shifty merchants that skulked at the edges of the market, let alone an aphrodisiac. But she was a bit desperate.

Work as an adventurer had been particularly tough this week, and she really needed to wind down and relax. But the more stressed Chelna felt, the harder it was to get in the mood, the more worried she was that she’d never be in the mood, the more stressed she was.

It was a viscous cycle that she’d experienced before and there was no better cure than a proper, sloppy self-love session. An aphrodisiac let her cut right to the chase.

And so after she exchanged coins for a phial with an oily-haired man at the edge of the market, she jogged back to the in and took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor where her room was.

She stepped into her room, locked the door behind her, and downed the bottle. She was desperate to be desperate for sex.

It never kicked in quite as quickly as she wanted it to, so she fussed around sorting bounty papers while she waited, fretting that the merchant may have sold her a fake.

Just when she was getting ready to march back down to the market and show the merchant the pointy end of her sword, it hit her. Like a hot, desert wind washing over her.

And then a frigid, arctic chill right behind that.

Wait, what?

The heat of arousal blossomed in Chelna’s sex, and at the same time, her skin prickled to gooseflesh and she shivered.

Chelna’s heart pounded faster, half from the effects of the aphrodisiac and half from startled concern.

Her shivering intensified as a chill crept down her spine, and she grabbed at the bedspread and wrapped herself in it. It helped, but only barely.

Hoping for any clue as to what was happening and whether she needed to rush herself to a healer, Chelna scooted in her bedspread cocoon over to take a closer look at the vial that she’d left on the table.

Acardoc’s Instant Aphrodisiac!

New Limited Edition Flavor: ICY-HOT

Works on all sorts of aches and pains! 😉

Before she could examine the vial any further, the aphrodisiac’s effects intensified. Chelna’s look of confusion melted into bliss as she shivered and her sex clenched with pleasure.

As the aphrodisiac took full effect, Chelna still felt bizarrely cold, but the chill became more and more enjoyable. As she shivered, she moaned. As her skin prickled with gooseflesh, it tingled with pleasure. As the chill deepened, the fire in her brightened.

Still wrapped in the bedspread, Chelna readjusted until she could brush her fingertips over her vulva. She moaned with pleasure at even that light touch. As her fingers pressed further between her folds, her moaning intensified.

The skin of her sex tingled with a burning chill. The sensation was mind-meltingly pleasurable, completely taking over her thoughts, focusing her entirely around the goal of just touching herself.

As Chelna wiggled in the bedspread, pleasure sparked in her nipples, as if someone were holding an ice cube on each of them. It felt amazing. And so cold.

The more aroused she became, the colder she felt. The colder she felt, the harder she shivered. The harder she shivered, the more aroused she became.

She trembled violently in the bedspread, her fingers hooked around to her spot of inner pleasure, her own shaking doing all of the work of rubbing herself.

Yes, this was what she had wanted! To be desperate for sex, so carnally overcome by it, so utterly swallowed by it. The pleasure was all she could think about.

Finally, heat started to overwhelm the cold. She went from shivering to shaking. And the heat grew and grew and grew.

The climax hit her so hard that she screamed, loud enough for the whole inn to hear. But she didn’t care, she was finally coming!

Several thick, heady waves of pleasure washed over her, followed by softer ripples reverberating in her body.

Her breathing slowed as she gradually relaxed, all the tension of the past week finally draining out of her. So no longer felt, hot, cold, horny, or stressed. Just, content.

It was exactly what she’d needed.

Well, except for the icy part. She’d have to pay closer attention to the flavors, next time.

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Professor’s Predicament (Part II)

Continued from Part I

A man’s voice, “Hey professor, I really need some extra tutor— oh.”

The warm voice, the smile lines at the eyes, the classic haircut, the knit cardigan. It wasn’t a student. It was her husband, Bradley.

He quickly shut the door behind himself and locked it.

Julia blinked. “You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing there?” he said.

“It was an accident.”

He surveyed her from head to toe. Her flushed cheeks, her firm nipples, her gooseflesh, her sopping wet vulva, her curled toes.

“Uh huh,” he said. “An accident.”

“Really!”

“Looks like I got here just in time, then.”

“Why are you here, though?”

“We’d planned to get lunch together, remember? I know you’re busy so I just graded papers, but then I realized if you’d forgotten to meet me you’d probably forgotten to eat altogether, so…” He lifted a bag from the college food court that he’d carried in and then set that on the desk.

Julia flushed with appreciation and renewed arousal.

Next to where he’d set the bag was a little remote, and he lifted that and considered it. “This is the part you forgot, isn’t it?”

“Yes! Can you let me out?”

“No.” Bradley’s grin curled into a kind of mischievous smirk that would have shocked his students. In the classroom, he was always so mild-mannered. Bashful, even. Not so in bed.

He set the remote back on the desk and stepped over to evaluate Julia more closely.

“You’ve gotten yourself in quite the bind, haven’t you?” he said.

“Oh god, Bradley, not the puns…”

“What are you going to do about it? You’re all trussed up and nowhere to go.”

“Bradley…”

“C’mon, don’t be tongue tied. No need to restrain yourself.”

“Shut your stupid, pretty mouth and fuck me!” Julia wiggled against the bonds as hard as she could, gasping at the increased pressure on her vulva and the tingle of electricity.

“Not yet,” Bradley said. “You know how I love a captive audience.”

Julia was too aroused to complain this time.

He leaned his face down to hers and kissed her, then bit her lip, then nibbled her ear.

Julia shivered and moaned, no longer capable of forming words.

He pressed his finger against her lips. “Shhh. Someone might hear.” And then with a cruel glint in his eye, he pinched her nipple.

She squealed with pleasure.

“Shhhh…” He pinched her other nipple.

Julia bit her lip and struggled to hold in another moan. “N-not fair! Meanie!”

He trailed his fingers from her shoulder, down the dip of her waist and over her hip. “You like it.”

She shivered, wetness spilling from her vulva and down the side of her thigh.

He traced his fingertips over her breasts, her stomach, her ass, her feet.

She gasped and wiggled and shuddered and did her best to stifle moans.

Finally he leaned back and she was both relieved and disappointed.

There were footsteps in the hallway.

Bradley grinned and stepped behind her.

“Wait, the fuck! Bradley! What are you going to do?” she hissed.

He didn’t reply.

There were twin shadows under the door, the feet of the approaching student. The doorknob rattled, but didn’t open. The student knocked.

Bradley traced a fingertip across Julia’s swollen, wet, aching vulva.

“Ah!” She couldn’t hold in the moan of surprised pleasure.

“Oh!” said the student at the door. A young woman from the morning section. “Professor?”

Julia’s mind struggled to surface from the pool of heady pleasure.

“Professor? S-sorry, you’ve left the door locked…”

Bradley circled his fingertip over Julia’s clit. She squinted her eyes shut and bit her lip to hold in the moan. 

Bradley leaned over her ear from behind and whispered, “She’s waiting for an answer…”

“T-terribly sorry Courtney, I’m just a bit t-tied up at the moment…”

Bradley grabbed each of Jula’s ass cheeks in a hand, spreading her open. She knew he was looking at her sopping wet mess of a vulva and that it was making him hard. God, she wanted his dick in her so bad.

“Oh,” Courtney said. “Should I… come back later? I’m just having some trouble with the figures for tomorrow’s problem set…”

Julia took a deep breath and gathered her wits about her, though just barely. “If you could be so kind, please. So sorry for this being awkward, I’ve done a poor job planning for the grant deadline so I’ve locked myself in her until I finish. I’ll be extending all this week’s homework deadlines since I won’t be able to grade anyway. I’d drafted an email but, well, in classic style I’ve just realized I forgot to hit ‘send’.”

“Oh! That’s no trouble at all. So sorry to bother you. See you tomorrow!”

Julia took a breath to answer, but then Bradley’s fingertip pressed between her labia and she gasped.

Courtney fretted at the door a moment longer, then walked away.

Julia turned to frown at Bradley. “Look what you’ve done, you’ve made me disappoint her!”

“What I have done,” he said, “Is saved her from the trauma of walking in on her favorite professor naked. And what I am doing now is collecting my reward.”

He pressed a second finger inside her and it filled her with the most delicious heat.

“O-okay,” she said, “T-that’s a good point…”

Her arousal swelled in anticipation of him getting ready to fuck her properly, but he withdrew again and left her frowning and searching for him.

He came around in front of her, another cruel glint in his eyes and another wicked smile on his pretty lips.

Julia gulped.

First, he shrugged of his cardigan. Then, unbuttoned his oxford one… by one…

Julia trembled, wanting to see him naked already, but knowing that if she protested, he’d go even slower.

His erection throbbed against the front of his khakis, but he didn’t undo his belt yet.

Instead, he left his unbuttoned oxford on his arms and leaned down to untie his left shoe, then his right. Julia had never seen anyone remove their socks so slowly, so alluringly, as Bradley did just then.

Then he stood and put his fingertips to his belt.

She quivered with expectation.

He let her shake for a moment before feeding the loose end through the buckle and slowly pulling the two ends apart. He slipped the belt out of its loops and set it aside.

He rubbed his erection through the front of his khakis, moaning quietly, leting his expression show his pleasure.

Julia shook, forgetting her earlier resolve to not beg. “Please…”

Bradley paused, as she knew he would. “Please, what?”

“I don’t even fucking know, you’re driving me crazy…”

Bradley smiled and laughed. His eyes always looked so kind when he laughed. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Alright, I’ll show some mercy.” He unbuttoned his pants, stepped out of them and his boxers, and stood before her naked. His shaft was already hard and throbbing.

Even through her haze, Julia knew that it was partly mercy and partly Bradley’s own excitement getting away from him.

But he did not do what she had so desperately hoped and come around to fuck her.

Instead, he looked down at her and started to stroke himself.

Julia whimpered. “Please… Please, fuck me!”

“Not yet,” he said.

“Why?!”

“Because seeing you like this has got me all hot and bothered and I would last about two seconds. And that’s no fun.”

“W-what about my fun?”

He smiled at her, knowingly. “This is your fun. You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

Julia pouted. “I mean, yes, but you don’t have to call me out like that!”

“Yes, I do. It’s part of my fun.” He kneeled next to her and reached around her ass and fingered her again.

She moaned and writhed in pleasure, but it was all too short.

He returned his soaking wet hand to his shaft and started stroking in earnest. He moaned a bit louder.

Every nerve in Julia’s body tingled with heat.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fuck you like this…” Bradley’s arousal was quickly building, his face overcome with pleasure. “Just seeing you like this is making me… oh fuck, Julia…”

There was another reason that Julia only allowed her students to call her “Professor” or “Doctor”. It was because from the very first time that she had ever heard her name from Bradley’s tongue, from the very first time it had rolled between his lips and come to meet her ear, she had known that she only ever wanted to hear her name in that way, she wanted it to only ever come from him.

Julia trembled desperately. “Bradley, please! Please come on me and fuck me, please—”

Bradley’s eyes rolled back with pleasure, his breathing quickened. “Oh Julia…”

“Yes, please, yes yes, yes!”

With a barely-stifled moan Bradley’s balls spasmed and he pumped rope after rope of cum onto Julia’s breasts.

It was so warm, her skin was so sensitive, her mind was drowning in pleasure, she felt on the edge of climax but there was no release, only growing, swelling, aching, panting urgency.

Even as Bradley’s climax tapered off, he did not soften in the slightest.

He put his hand to her cheek and met her eyes, and she knew. She knew her release was coming. Her body quivered with anticipation.

He wasted no time in coming around behind her, lining his tip up to her swollen, wet entrance and pressing inside.

Julia moaned loudly.

Bradley clamped one hand over her mouth and pressed the other over her pubic mound, fingers curling around to her clit from the front.

And then he fucked her, pulling her down onto himself as he thrust into her, the angle putting his tip right against her G-spot, his fingers running circles over her clit.

Julia could not think, she could only feel. Every nerve in her body was hot, electric sensation. She could have stayed like that forever. Except that she was desperate to come.

And she was so close. A pre-orgasmic wave of pleasure. Her moans deepened. She nodded into Bradley’s hand.

He kept up his exact pace.

She slowly approached the edge. She was breathing so quickly. There was so much of Bradley’s skin against her skin. If it had been up to her, she would have been far over the edge, but as it were she could only surrender to Bradley’s ministrations.

And it was this perfect, slow, incredible explosion.

The heat blossomed and every muscle in her body contracted together, the muscles of her sex squeezing around his shaft, the electric tingle of the restraints digging deeper, air forced out of her lungs, throat tight and shaping it into a scream. Bradley’s hand over her mouth made it quieter, but not by much.

Then a second clear wave. Then a third.

And then as the contractions of pleasure continued, her body started to relax. First her throat, so that her screams became moans. Then her arms, and her legs, and her ass, melting into Bradley’s embrace. For a minute or more, the contracts of her climax pulsed through her body.

It was not just the anticipation of the past fifteen minutes that flowed out of her, but also the stress of the grant writing, the tension of the week. It all drained and drained and drained until she was completely relaxed and utterly content.

Bradley wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, then brushed her hair back from his face.

He was still inside of her. He hadn’t climaxed again, but he was relaxing with her. His shaft throbbed as it softened, and she loved that feeling.

He nuzzled his cheek into the back of her neck. “God, I love it when you come when I’m inside you…”

Julia was too dizzy in the afterglow to form words, so she just nodded.

They fell asleep together there, for some unknown amount of time. Julia really would have to replace the batteries in her clock.

They both stirred and Bradley finally went over to the desk and triggered the release. The fibers went slack around Julia and she was finally able to move again. He helped rub the blood back into her muscles — though he spent a disproportionate amount of time on her ass for obviously selfish reasons — and then they dressed again.

Julia finally checked the clock on her phone. It was evening.

“Better get back to work,” she sighed.

Bradley put his arm around her shoulder, his cardigan soft against her cheek. “Actually, I was thinking,” he said, “that since you ghosted me for lunch, you have no choice but to come get dinner with me.”

Julia took a deep breath and put her phone away. “I’m just worried about the grant.”

He kissed her cheek. “I know. But, love, you’ve been done for days.”

“Are you sure?!”

“I am very sure because you’ve asked me to proof read it eight times.”

“But what if…”

He poked her in the ribs. “Jesus Christ, Julia, I’m an English professor for God’s sake. If I say the paper is good, it’s good.”

Julia rolled her eyes, but snuggled further into him. “Okay, okay. Fine. I guess dinner won’t hurt.”

He kissed the top of her head. “That’s a good girl.”

Julia’s heart fluttered like a crushy school girl as Bradley took her hand and lead her up and out of the basement.

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Professor’s Predicament (Part I)

[WP][TT] A feisty inventor who teaches engineering at a college does her best thinking nude. Unfortunately, today she accidentally sprung a device she was working on designed to "restrain" intruders. Why did it have to be during open office hours where any second… from DirtyWritingPrompts

Julia Casey allowed her students to address her in two ways and two ways only. Their options were “Professor” or “Doctor”. She had worked hard for her PhD and for her tenure track, dammit.

That was not to say that she did not enjoy teaching. She made it a point to learn all her students’ names. Students who sat quietly in the back of other classes asked questions and offered opinions in hers, and she was damn proud of that.

The main reason that she insisted on being addressed as “Professor” or “Doctor” was that otherwise, her students and even her peers tended to forget that she was brilliant. And eccentric. ‘Absent-minded Julia’ would be quickly written off. ‘Absent-minded professor’ was a statement of positive regard.

It was not that her mind was absent, strictly speaking, so much that it was in so very many places at once. When she was trying to think, really think, her mind expanded to absorb every possible idea, every present stimulus.

An unfortunate side-effect of that was that she would become acutely aware of the rub of her pants against her skin, the stray tag in her shirt, the elastic of her bra digging into her sides.

When she was trying to think, really think, Professor Casey needed to be naked.

This was one of the reasons that she’d insisted that one of the old workshops that was now too small to fit a class would become her office and workshop. It was in the basement of one of the older buildings on campus and while the lack of windows would have annoyed another professor, it was quite perfect for Julia. She could think however she pleased, whenever she needed to.

And today was a day when she needed to do quite a bit of thinking. The grant deadline was nearly upon her and she could feel it tightening its claws around her. She was onto something, she really was! But she just needed to put it in the right words, the words that would convince the committee to give her further funding. She had a working prototype and everything!

So Professor Casey paced, back and forth in the cluttered little workshop, wondering how she could possibly explain to the small-minded grant committee just how important her invention truly was.

Women were at a disadvantage when it came to personal protection, you see. Not just in the obvious ways. Tools could be used to overcome physical disadvantages — tools like firearms and pepper spray and tasers — but there was one very direct issue with these tools when used for home defense. They required that your ‘fight’ instinct be triggered.

Professor Casey knew plenty of happily violent women, but she also knew plenty of women and men who were much more likely to ‘flee’ or ‘freeze’. So, she had set out to create an autonomous home protection device. Most importantly, it needed to be non-lethal, so that it could err on the side of being over-protective.

And she had created just such a thing. It really worked! She just needed more time and a bit more money to refine the design to replace some of the more expensive and complicated parts.

As she paced, Professor Casey remembered that she’d spent a late night in the lab a couple days back and had scribbled down some ideas for the grant and crammed them in one of the back shelves. Eagerly, she hurried over towards them.

There was a soft snap, a whoosh, and then Professor Casey was on her side on the floor, the wind knocked out of her, and her limbs fully restrained.

She had forgotten that she’d left the prototype live. She’d tested it many times before, but always with the release in-hand. Now, the release was ten feet away on her desk. Or, was it in her bag? No, she’d left it on the bookshelf?

The clever bit about this invention was the detainment device. It was created from a special polymer that would become firm or limp depending on how much electrical current passed through it. It was folded into the ejector in such a way that as a pulse of electricity first activated it, it spread into a net. Then, specially timed pulses of electricity manipulated it to maximize the tangling coefficient. Once it was completely tangled around the target, the current would stay live to ensure that it was stiff and inescapable. Once de-activated, the fibers became limp and the target could extricate themselves.

It was incredibly effective. Nearly infallible.

Professor Casey struggled against the fibers, to no avail. The slight current of electricity within them raised the hairs on her arms, on the back of her neck.

She didn’t have time for this, the grant deadline was approaching! She—

Her phone dinged a reminder tone.

Wait, what was that about? She thought she was clear for the rest of the afternoon? She wiggled around so that she could see the clock over her door. It read 6am. Fuck, she’d forgotten to replace the batteries.

Julia wracked her brain. It was Tuesday afternoon, and on Tuesday afternoon, she had…

Open office hours.

And here she was, completely naked, tangled up in her own invention in the middle of the office floor.

She’d set the reminder for five minutes before office hours. Or was it ten? Or two? She didn’t usually cut it this close with her thinking time, but this grant deadline had her all out of sorts.

Her heart raced, her body preparing itself for fight or flight, though neither of those was an option.

Had she been able to crawl over to her phone, she could have used her nose to phone another faculty and request a rescue. But she couldn’t so much as wiggle. 

That was the genius thing about her invention, actually. The fibers formed a sort of perfectly molded cage from head to toe, holding her arms against her sides, her legs together. She couldn’t even bend at her hips.

And though it covered enough of her to totally restrain her, her breasts and her ass were still totally exposed.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. Not in the slightest.

The worst of it was actually that her heart rate rising, the heat flushing through her body, the tingling in her fingers and toes, wasn’t really fight or flight. It was abject arousal.

One of the electrified strands lay across her nipple, subtly stimulating the area. Another wrapped under her ass, digging into the skin and muscle and pulling tight enough that it just brushed the edge of her outer labia. That contact became firmer and firmer as her labia swelled with arousal.

Julia gulped, her mouth watering.

This was another one of her eccentricities. As her friend Emily, a professor of sexual health, had explained: most people were turned off by stress. Some people were turned on by it. Julia was really turned on by it.

But she needed to get a hold of herself. What if a student walked in?!

And that very thought aroused her further, worsening her predicament.

Thank god all of her students were legal, at least.

The more aroused she became, the more difficult it was to think.

And the more difficult it was to think, the more sure she was that she was going to be found like this.

And the more sure she was that she would be found like this, the more aroused she became.

And the more aroused she became, the more her labia swelled into the electrified fiber. And it felt good. And the better it felt, the wetter she got. And the wetter she got, the more the electricity tingled through her vulva.

The same hypersensitivity that had lead her to get naked in the first place filled her senses. She was so aware of every place the fibers pressed into her, of every electric tingle, the prickle as her hairs raised, a shift of air over her naked skin.

She was breathing heavily now. Her students would find her worse than naked. They’d find her naked and so aroused.

But then, a logical thought cut through the haze and she relaxed a bit. She always locked the door when she was thinking. So, they’d just find the door locked and think she’d forgotten about office hours. That happened often enough, they wouldn’t think too much of it.

There were footsteps in the hallway.

Julia’s heart skipped, sweat beaded on her upper lip. She licked it off, liking too much the way her tongue felt against her skin.

She had locked the door, right?

The handle turned.

She had not locked the door.

“Oh fuck,” she said.

The door swung open.

Julia froze.

Continued in Part II

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Moody Milking

[WP] A goth cowgirl is almost too moody and brooding to enjoy a good milking… But only ~almost~… from DirtyWritingPrompts

The spots around her eyes look like smudgy black eyeliner. She has a button nose, her black hair is pulled up in twin pigtails, and her full lips are painted black. She’s adorable, but you’d have a horn in each eye the moment you tried to call her “cute”.

Her breasts are swollen and straining her ripped black t-shirt. She crosses her arms under them, trying to look aloof, but she’s clearly trying to relieve some of their weight.

As you approach with a bucket, she rolls her eyes. She says, “This again?”

You remind her that this happens every day.

“Tsk. Whatever. I’m over it.” The wet spots over each nipple are just barely visible on the black fabric. As she shifts her arms under her breasts, the wetness widens.

You offer to skip today, if she’d prefer.

She rolls her eyes again. “Just get it over with already.” She reaches down to the bottom of her shirt and strips it off, her breasts bouncing back into place as she throws her shirt to the side.

Her nipples are swollen and leaking, her breasts heavy on her chest.

You remark that she doesn’t look like she could have waited until tomorrow.
“Fuck you, pervert. Hurry up!”

You reply that you’re not quite sure if you should be staying or going.

She huffs, crossing her arms under her chest again, and the discomfort is clear on her face. She blushed, then glances up at you.

She won’t say it, but it’s the same old song and dance every time. She’s ready to be milked.

You approach and she looks away but turns her chest towards you. You place the bucket at your feet and then cup each of her breasts in a hand.

Gently, you start to massage.

She gasps and closes her eyes. She bites her lip, and her composure starts to slip as you apply your gentle touch to her sore breasts.

You give her a little extra foreplay today. She relaxes into it but then starts glancing towards you, clearly yearning for the next step, but unwilling to say so.

“T-taking your sweet time?”

You remind her that you can’t rush perfection. But, you offer to move on.

“F-fine. Whatever.”

You kneel down and she follows, the bucket between you. She leans forward slightly so that her breasts hang over the bucket.

You bring a hand up under each breast and lift slightly. Her fullness is heavy on your palms.

Gently, you circle her areolas with your fingertips.

She shudders, biting her lip, as milk beads on her nipple.

Before she can protest, you take her nipple in your hand, squeeze gently, and tug.

She stifles a moan as a stream of milk flows out of her. She presses her breasts towards you with her hands.

You ask her why she’s now so eager.

“Eager to g-get this over with, obviously.”

You tug on her nipple again and she holds back a gasp at the next stream of milk. It proceeds like this for a few moments, her trying to hide her gasps and moans of pleasure.

Then her cheeks flush redder. Her eyes, which had been glancing sidelong, flutter shut. She stops biting her lips and they part with a little moan.

She starts rocking her hips on her heels, stimulating her flower. She must be a aching with desire.

You milk her, alternating breasts, her moans growing louder and louder and the streams of milk growing thicker.

She no longer attempts to hide her pleasure. She moans openly, grips her breasts in her hands to squeeze more out for you.

Finally, her desire becomes irresistible and she drops a hand to her flower.

The wet sounds of her fingers over her vulva join her moans and the splashing of the milk in the bucket.

“Ohhh fuck…” As her breasts empty into the bucket, the fluids from her flower drip onto the floor. “Fuck…”

You put a hand to each of her nipples, squeezing and tugging steadily, giving her the sensations she craves.

She alternates fucking herself with her fingers and rubbing her clit, her aroudal steadily building.

“Oh, fuck… holy shit…” Her body trembles, her milk comes in spurts. But you know that this is not all. This is just the edge.

Her eyes flash open. They lock onto yours, and they are nearly black with arousal. She sees you, with no pretense, no pretending. She gasps, “Milk me!”

And then her eyes roll back and her body shakes with pleasure. Her milk spurts into the bucket, her fem-cum onto the floor, pulse after pulse after pulse.

Finally, she starts to relax.

You milk the last few drops from her breasts. The bucket is nearly full.

Her breasts are much smaller now, the shirt that could barely contain them before would now hardly need to stretch. But she doesn’t make any moves to clothe herself.

She flops backwards onto her ass, eyes hazy with the afterglow. She turns her gaze up to you and gives you an appreciative blink and a sigh.

You pick up the bucket and promise to see her tomorrow.

“W-whatever,” she says, but she doesn’t look mad about it.

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Arachnia (Part II)

Continued from Part I

Three weeks later

Val had been doing exceptionally well in his therapy. He had only gotten six inches closer to a spider each day, and by this point, he could comfortably be within arm’s reach. Ara assured him that that was quite a reasonable distance. Spiders liked their own personal space as much as he liked his — the goal was just to get him to the point that he could keep his wits about him.

Ara could, of course, speak to spiders, and as Val had been doing better and better, she had asked a few to hide in places close to him while it was safe. They had slowly emerged when she’d asked them to and though Val had been startled and unsettled, he had been able to simply give the spider its space and then relax again.

He was ready. And it was a good thing too. Ara was starving.

She’d been preparing him in other ways, too. A week and a half prior, she’d caught him masturbating. She loved the way that she’d turned his fear, shame, embarrassment into pleasure by offering to finish the job.

And by all the stars in the sky, he’d tasted so good. It had taken the edge off, but she couldn’t feed properly in this form.

Val had been all too happy to indulge Ara’s enthusiastic advances, and they’d quite happily become lovers. Nothing made Val climax harder, give Ara more, than when she sat on his face and sucked his dick with two fingers up his ass. He loved to be trapped by her, helpless under her.

He was going to love her true form so much, she just had to convince him of it.

It was when they finally reached the sacred temple that Ara decided to tell him.

“Val, there’s… something I’ve been keeping from you.”

He grinned wryly. “You’re a rival adventurer and you’re going to stab me in the back and run off with the records now that we’ve reached the sacred temple?”

“What? No! No, not at all. Of course not.”

Val raised an eyebrow at her.

She sensed the tension in his muscles as he considered reaching for his machete. She needed to tell the truth before his imagination ran away with him.

“I’m not human.”

“You’re a spirit?” Val asked. He was an adventurer, he knew the legends.

Ara nodded. “I’m… well…” she shuffled her feet, blushing, not sure why she was finding it so difficult to say something so matter-of-fact. Actually, she knew why. If he ran from her in fear, it would break her heart. “I am… the one who… made that web. That you got caught in.”

Val was no longer considering reaching for his machete, but he did look troubled. “So you’re… a spider spirit?”

Ara bit her lip. “Yes. I am.”

He grimaced. “I wondered how you knew so much about spiders.”

She shrugged apologetically.

“Why didn’t you— well. I guess I know the answer to that. If you’d told me earlier I’d have high-tailed it in the other direction. So I guess it’s not so much why you didn’t tell me, but… why didn’t you want me to run away?”

“Because you tasted delicious!”

Val shrunk away from her.

“N-no, that didn’t come out right… Okay, so you know how spirits feed on energy?”

He nodded, cautiously.

“We can… ‘taste’ what somebody’s energy is like. What their essence, their character is like. Your essence is… really lovely. Generous. It’s the generosity that matters. The more generous the… um… giver of the energy, the less it takes from them to give it.”

“I’m… generous?”

Ara nodded. “You would have made getting me home your priority, you tried to protect me from the bandits, you offered me your clothes instead of theirs, the way you eat me out for hours… generous.”

Val’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and a little bit of arousal. “So why tell me now?”

Ara was losing her ability to be tactful, eagerness overcoming her. “Because, Val, I’m so hungry. And you smell so good. And I think… if I… if you let me… it wouldn’t take anything from you at all. It might even energize you!”

Val considered this. His blush deepened. “What do you… what would you look like when…”

“Can I show you?”

Val nodded slowly.

Ara considered and backed up a few paces to give him some space. She then relaxed into the magic around her and her true form came back to her so easily. It felt so good, like stretching after a long time cooped up.

She was not fully spider, as she had been when she’d first seen him. Her upper half was more or less the same, with her curly brown hair and her small breasts. Her canines had become longer and more pointed.

Other than that she was like a centaur, her back half that of a spider’s legs and abdomen. Her sides were smooth and shiny, her legs long and elegant, her movements graceful like a troupe of dancers all moving together. She thought she looked quite pretty. But she knew Val might disagree.

She could sense that all his hairs were standing on end, but he didn’t look away. He didn’t run. He took a step closer, then a deep breath. Another, then a deep breath.

Ara kneeled, tucking her legs cozily up under her, which put her head at the height of his hip.

He took a step and then a deep breath until he was close enough to reach out and cup her cheek in his hand. She nuzzled into him.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and kneeled in front of her. She kissed his forehead. He kept his eyes shut.

“C-can you… can you move so I can hear what it sounds like?” he asked.

“Yes.” She reshuffled her back legs, and there was the quiet clicking of chitin on stone.

He shivered violently, but did not run.

“O-okay… what is feeding like?”

She took his cheeks in her hands. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “You will be utterly trapped and bound by me. You will have no chance of escape, but you will have never felt safer in your whole life. I will own you, and I will protect you. You will give absolutely everything to me… and you will find that you have more than you started with.”

He shuddered and folded into her, his cheek against her breast, her arms around his head, pressing him into her.

“C-can you blindfold me?” he asked.

“Of course, my pet.”

He shivered. She was glad he liked that name. In her true form, she could no longer pretend to be helpless and uncertain. She could feel the power, the lifeblood of all the beating hearts around her, feeding into her, his brightest of all.

Her nimble back legs reached up to her spinnerets and prepared a length of firm, dry silk. She passed this to her hands and tied it securely over Val’s eyes. He gasped.

She turned him in her hands so that she was behind him and she pressed her lips against his neck. His blood flowed deliciously under her lips, the intermingled fear and arousal that she found so very, very intoxicating. She whispered in his ear, “This is your last chance to change your mind…”

Val gasped and shuddered. “Ara, take whatever you want from me.”

Ara growled with sheer pleasure and nipped at Val’s ear, then reared onto her eight powerful legs. Before he knew it he was in the air, lofted by her legs, rolling as she stripped off his clothes and wrapped him in her silk. The bindings were dry and strong with a comfortable bit of flex, and her legs where she held him were smooth and strong and gentle.

With him sufficiently bound, she quickly spun a web across the entrance of the temple so that she could string him up at her leisure. He would feel almost weightless, the firm hug of the silk replacing all sensation of gravity.

Now that he was wrapped in her bindings, they carried every quiver, every waver, every beat of his energy to her. She felt his pleasure, his fear, his excitement. This was why he was so very, very safe. She knew exactly how he felt, exactly what he wanted. Nothing would ever be too much. It would always be just right.

She turned him and hooked her fingers into the silk by his neck, her fingernails dragging along his skin as she pulled the silk aside. She put her lips to his ear. “You’re a very good boy, so I think you might not struggle, yes? But it feels so good to struggle…”

She traced a fingernail down the side of his neck and he shivered. The ticklish sensation sent him wriggling and writhing unconsciously. Where his growing erection throbbed against the tight hug of the silk, the sensation was incredible. She kept this up until his muscles were sore and he was panting.

“See? You’re very secure… No matter what, you won’t fall… nothing bad can happen to you here…”

He melted into her words, her touch.

“Now, I will tell you another thing about spiders,” she said, licking her lips. “We give something to our prey. And then we let them sit. And we let it do its work. And then when it’s ready, we drink up the results.”

Val whimpered.

“Would you like something like that?” Ara asked. “It will feel very, very good…”

“Yes! Please! Take anything from me…”

“That is such a good boy. I’ve got quite the reward for you…” She tilted his head back to expose his neck. She pressed her lips against him again, and his heart beat wildly against her. First, she licked his neck. Like her canines, her tongue was not quite human. It was longer, rougher, and as it passed over his skin, the skin tingled and then went numb.

She lined up her fangs and bit his neck. Her fingertips turned to claws at his head, his chest, as she pulled him into herself and the venom surged forth. It felt so hot, so pleasant, rushing out of her and into him.

Her venom glands now empty, she licked the little trickle of blood from his neck, and her saliva not only stopped the bleeding but completely healed the wounds.

She did not have to ask him to know how he felt, because of the way the silk resonated with energy between them, but she so loved to hear it. “How does it feel, my pet?”

“I-I thought it would hurt but… it didn’t…”

“Nothing will ever hurt here, remember that.” She nibbled playfully at his ear. “Unless you want it to. But please, continue.”

He shivered. “I-it’s so warm and… and soft, like… like a couple of beers… but tinglier, like… oh… oh… OH!” His breathing became quick and heavy.

“Whatever is happening, pet? Don’t hold out on me…”

He wriggled against the silk and moaned as it gave him the sensation he so desperately craved. “Fuck! I’ve n-never felt… so horny in… nnngh… ever… It’s so tight! I’m g-getting so hard, please… please I need room…”

Val’s erection was straining hard against the silk over his member.

“What, room here?” Ara reached down and massaged his erection through the silk.

“Yes!” For a moment, he moaned at the pleasure of her touch. Then, his urgency heightened. “P-please, it’s so tight! It hurts!”

Ara grinned her toothy smile. “But you like it when it hurts this way, don’t you? I can feel it.”

Val whimpered and wiggled. He then moaned suddenly as the aphrodisiac venom soaked in even more, doubling the pressure on his member.

“I suppose I can give you some extra room. But don’t get any ideas. You’re not done soaking yet.”

Val did not have enough capacity for thought to ask what she meant by ‘soaking’, he could only gasp with relief as she trailed her fingertip down his member and the silk melted under it, letting his erection spring free.

She twisted him around with her legs so that his shaft hung towards the floor. With a soft hand, she cupped his pendulous balls. “Oooh, getting nice and plump. You’re going to have so much for me, aren’t you?”

Val just moaned.

Ara settled back to watch the show as her venom took full effect. The swelling of his balls was more metaphorical than literal, more fantasy than anatomy, but this was how she liked to weave her spirit magics. 

His balls became heavier and heavier as he readied himself for her. His arousal became more and more frantic, his mind slipping deeper and deeper into her spell. Bit by bit, he was surrendering to her. Bit by bit, he was readying himself to give her everything.

She touched herself to the sight of it, the moans of her pleasure enhancing the effects of her venom.

Finally, the venom was at peak effect. His shaft throbbed needily, his balls hung full, and drool flowed freely from his panting mouth.

“Did you know,” she said as she approached him again, “That most of your cum doesn’t actually come from your balls? There’s a few glands near your ass that provide most of the volume. Same ones that produce pre-cum.” She pulled the strands of her web to rearrange his posture, bending him at the hip slightly so she had better access to his ass. “They’re right… about…” She pressed at the rear of his perineum. “Here.”

Val moaned from the very depths of his being as Ara’s touch sent those glands spasming and a thick spurt of pre-cum flowed from his tip. Every single part of him was over-sensitive, over-full.

Ara’s eyes dilated at the sight, the smell of the pre-cum. She licked her lips. It was time to feed.

She cinched a strand of silk around the base of his shaft and his balls as a cock ring, then shifted him so that his cock rested comfortably at her mouth height. Without further ado, she took him deep into her throat.

He cried out, rewarding her with another thick spurt of pre-cum.

With his balls plumped towards her like this, she could easily loop her tongue around them, stimulating the sensitive area. But that was just foreplay. Her tongue lengthened, still sweeping over his balls but also reaching towards his perineum, his rim.

Val’s whole body quivered with incomprehensible ecstasy as the tip of her tongue touched his rim.

Had she been any less hungry, she would have made him wait longer, but she herself could not resist. She wanted him, all of him, right now.

She moaned and grabbed his ass, her fingertips digging into the flesh. She pulled him to the very back of her throat, her tongue reaching up, around, and into his entrance. He would have already burst except that the tingling, numbing effect of her saliva slowed him down.

“Ara…” he moaned. “Ara… I’m so full… Fuck, you feel so good in my ass… a-and everywhere…”

Ara moaned greedily and pulled him deeper, fucking him with her tongue and squeezing around him with her throat. She moaned and the vibrations heightened the sensation.

“Ara… I c-can’t take it… I n-need to give you… everything…”

She could feel his pleasure through the silk, feel the heat building slowly and inescapably. She would share in all the pleasure of his climax, all the quivering ecstasy of the edge.

“Ara…” His breathing quickened. He shuddered. Pre-orgasmic sparks of pleasure flickered at his base, his ass. Pre-cum flowed freely from his tip, somehow even hotter than her throat, and the feeling of it flowing through his whole shaft drove him even crazier.

His balls throbbed, desperate to unload. His whole body tingled with the effects of the venom, every place the silk touched his skin alight with sensual pleasure.

“Fuck… oh fuck… Ara… I’m so close… s-so full… Ara, I think I’m… oh, fuck… Ara… ARA!”

Every single muscle of his body tensed together, sending the first hot pulse of cum down her throat. Then another, and another, his ass tensing and pumping into her.

He slowed, but did not stop. For a moment, he could speak again. “A-Ara, am I… I think I’m still c-coming…”

Ara moaned affirmatively.

The sensation tipped him over a new edge. “Oh, fuck!” The intensity renewed, another set of hard spurts that tapered off but did not stop.

She loved everything about this part, but she especially loved these lulls, when he just kept pumping and pumping.

Each climax was more intense than the last, each sent more and more of his essence down her throat. But he had not yet given her everything.

The last lull was as intense as his first climax had been. “Ara… Ara s-something’s happening… I f-feel strange… I-I’m going to let it… I t-think I need to… I’m going to… fuck, take everything!”

Val erupted into the most intense climax yet, and every strand of silk hummed with a pure, radiant energy. He moaned in wave after wave of pleasure, energy flowing freely from him into Ara and back into him. The vibrating of the silk becoming a song of jubilant triumph, Ara’s own scream of pleasure joining the symphony.

Slowly, gently, the intensity of the pleasure melted into relaxation. The song quieted and the silk dissolved into nothingness. Ara pulled Val to her breast and fell asleep against the wall of the temple, her arms around him.

Some time later, Val stirred. He opened his eyes for the first time since he had come to kneel in front of Ara and he looked up at her in adoration. She brushed a strand of hair back from his cheek.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, his voice hoarse from all his screams of pleasure. “If I hadn’t lost my mind back when I stumbled into your web… this is what would have happened.”

Ara smiled down at him. “More or less. But you had a lot more to give me for all our time together.”

He snuggled into her chest. “It’s funny, I thought I’d feel much more tired for having been drained by a succubus.”

“It’s like I said. The more generous you are, the less it takes from you.”

“So we could do that… any time?”

She nodded and kissed his forehead. “However much you like.”

“I think I’d like to do that… quite often…” He pushed himself to sit up. “I feel like I just got the best night’s sleep I ever had.”

Ara tucked her legs more tightly under her. “I-I can turn back, but… you may have to give me a few hours, it’s hard for me to shift back when I’m this full.”

Val stepped around her and carefully reached out to place a hand on the smooth side of her abdomen. “No, it’s okay. It’ll take some getting used to, but… What you just did was so hot, I’m sure it won’t take me long to adjust to however you look when you do that.”

Ara caught his eyes. “I might look a bit frightening. I might look powerful and large and dangerous. I might look hungry. Deadly.”

Val’s cheeks flushed with arousal and his shaft started to harden again. He grinned and came to kneel before her, looking up at her with those hazel eyes. His voice warm with love, he said, “I think that will be quite alright with me.”

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Shorts

Arachnia (Part I)

[WP] [Romance] A severely arachnophobic adventurer is accidentally caught in the web of a benevolent spider spirit. Once she realizes what happened, she disguises herself as a human adventurer and frees him. Having taken a liking to him, she decides to accompany him, and slowly falls in love… from DirtyWritingPrompts

Arachnia dozed in the corner of her web, which stretched across the trunks of three old-growth trees. In the shadows of the forest floor, the sticky strands were nearly invisible.

In this form, her spider form, she was about the size of a large dog. She sat with her legs tucked cozily up under her, except for two of her feet, which rested on the signal strands. These were thicker threads, not sticky at all, stretched tight from tree to tree. 

The signal threads passed vibrations to her sensitive feet, so that she always knew when and how the wind was blowing, and who or what had come upon her web.

There was a sharp tug at one of the signal threads, and Arachnia was instantly awake.

A quiet pause. Then, intense and constant vibrations. The struggle of something humanoid, average sized, on the other side of her web.

Arachia crept out of her shadow, her feet keeping to the strong structural threads of the web. Like the signal threads, these were also not sticky. They were so strong, in fact, that she almost never had to re-hang them. Not even the time that an actual dragon had gotten itself caught in her web.

As she neared the trapped creature, another type of information flowed to her through the web. Energy. She was a spirit. And though she had a spider form, she did not feed as a spider did. Just like the demon spirits that the humans called succubi, she fed on life essence.

This life essence was terrified. Utterly and completely. Arachnia paused. Only the energy of pleasure could feed her. And she was a master at turning fear into pleasure, but this case was beyond even her.

She approached just far enough to get a better look, ensuring that she was still hidden.

The human’s legs and arms were entirely tangled up in the trapping threads of her web. The more he struggled to free himself, the more of the loose, sticky threads latched onto him. An individual thread could be broken easily, but the tangle of so many threads was inescapable.

He was not even trying to escape, though. He was caught entirely in the throes of a panic attack. By the looks of his clothes and his pack, he was an adventurer, but the world was a dangerous place indeed for an adventurer that had such a strong fear.

Arachnia’s heart sunk with pity for him. She crept down her web to the shadows of the forest floor, and as she dropped to the ground she landed on two human feet. Her human form was petite, with small breasts and a curvaceous ass that subtly called back to the slender thorax and plump abdomen of her spider form. She had curly brown hair, skin the color of leaf litter, and big, round eyes. Just two of them, of course. For now, anyway.

She made her way over to the panicking human. She figured that it would be the best if the first thing he heard from her was her voice. “Oh my goodness!” she said.

His eyes found her immediately. They were hazel, like the dappled green and brown of the forest canopy. “W-who’s there!”

Arachnia stepped out of the shadows and into full view. “I’m here to get you out of this web!”

Relief washed over his face. He trembled as she came up to him and started pulling the threads away. In her spider form, she would have simply cut them with her feet. In this form, she dissolved them with her magic, but she expected he was too overwhelmed to notice.

“T-thank you,” he said, “I was sure I was a goner!” As she made clear progress on the threads and as he relaxed, he seemed to notice a few things. Chief among them was that she was naked. “Your clothes!” he said.

She looked down at herself. Of course she was naked, she couldn’t just magic clothes out of nowhere. But she’d forgotten how odd humans were about it. She didn’t know what to say except to repeat, “My clothes!”

“Did you have to get out of them to escape?”

Arachnia took a moment to unpack that question. He thought she’d also been trapped in the spider’s web? And she’d wiggled out of her clothes to escape? It was a cute idea, but never would have worked. But it was a good way to smooth over the fact that she’d appeared naked from out of nowhere.

“Yes! Exactly.” She melted away the last few strands of silk at his ankles.

“Okay,” he said, “We can fix that later. Let’s get out of here!”

And then he grabbed her hand and pulled her away at a haphazard jog.

Arachnia surprised herself by following him. Spider spirits did not like to leave their webs unless absolutely necessary.

But something had happened, when he had taken her hand in his, when her palm had touched his palm. She had tasted his energy. And it was delicious.

At a sunny clearing of a gurgling stream, the adventurer finally slowed. He kneeled next to the clear water and drank deeply. He seemed to now be in much better spirits.

As he turned and smiled at her, the love of life in his hazel eyes, warmth flowed over her. He was, simply put, the prettiest boy she’d ever seen. His eyes were framed with long eyelashes, his hair pulled up in a messy bun, his cheeks with a short beard of a week or so since his last shave.

He shrugged out of his shirt, which was still covered in sticky silk, and dipped it into the stream.

He was of medium build, lean but with visible muscles, and something about the curve of his back sent a shiver down her spine.

“Thank you, again,” he said. “I promise I’m not usually so useless. It’s just…” He blushed, putting a hand to the back of his neck. “Spiders really get to me, I guess.”

“I could see that,” Arachnia said.

He winced. “Seeing as you saved my life and all, we should probably introduce ourselves, right? I’m Valdil Duststriker, but everybody calls me Val.”

“I called Arach—” She caught herself, realizing that he name was a dead giveaway. “Ara. Ak. But, uh, everybody calls me Ara.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Ara. Now, where did you come from? Where are you going? I daresay helping you find some fresh clothes and get you home is now my priority quest.”

Ara was generally a very prepared person — all spiders valued preparation — but she was completely out of anything she’d ever even dreamed of anticipating before. Of course he’d want to know where she came from! 

Ara racked her brain. Kitsunes were good at this sort of thing. She’d met a traveling kitsune a few years back, and they’d exchanged some stories. Her advice had been, ‘Say vague truths. They’ll make thier own assumptions. And you’ll have never lied.’

“I-I’ve run away from my home,” Ara said.

“Oh! Had something terrible happened?”

“You could say that.”

“So… do you want to go back to your home?”

“No, not right now. And I… don’t really want to talk about it.”

Val nodded. “I understand. I actually ran away from home too, that’s how I got into this adventuring business in the first place. If you don’t want to go home, where do you want to go?”

“Can you tell me more about this adventuring business?”

“I can, but I’m… not sure you’re cut out for it.”

Ara blinked, unsure of what he meant. Then snorted and laughed. He had no way of knowing that she could utterly overpower him in an instant, but she needed to keep it that way. She got a hold of herself and just smiled. “Try me.”

Two days later

The crunch of leaves, a movement in shadow.

Val drew his machete and threw his arm back as if to protect Ara. “Look out!”

But she was already in the trees. Val had seen two of the bandits in the ambush, but the third, which was perched on the branch above Val, was far more deadly.

Ara got her hands around his neck and pulled him back, and the assassin’s crossbow bolt flew wide. He grunted and spun to try and grab her, but she nimbly swung around him and stayed behind him, her hands on his neck the whole while.

Before he could get his bearing on the narrow tree branch and do anything else, she pulled her mouth up to his neck. Her canines became long, sharp fangs and she sunk them into his neck.

She shuddered with a pleasurable feeling as a pulse of her venom flowed out of her and into his skin.

He struggled for only a moment longer before his muscles started to go slack. Her venom would not kill him, it would merely sedate him heavily for a few hours. She grabbed the top of his shirt as he fell off the branch to ensure that he fell harmlessly onto his legs. She dropped down after him.

Val had subdued the other two bandits, though they had not been lucky enough to keep their lives.

He turned to her, looking worried. “Ara!” And then he saw the man at her feet. “Ara?”

“I think he’s unconscious,” she said.

“What happened?” he said.

“I got up into the tree next to him. He hadn’t been paying any attention to me, he had a crossbow bolt leveled at you.” She paused a moment, trying her best to channel a kitsune’s foxy cleverness. “Do you think he passed out of fright?”

“It’s certainly possible,” Val said.

“Looks like we found some clothes for me.”

“Oh! You take mine.” Val stripped his shirt off. “You shouldn’t have to wear something as course as what they have.”

Ara’s stomach quivered with delight. She loved to see him shirtless, and it was even better when he tossed his shirt to her. She bunched it up at her face, breathing in the scent of him.

He hesitated. “Is it… it’s not already too smelly, is it?”

“No, it’s perfect!” Her mouth was watering.

Val blushed and stammered and turned back to looting the bandits.

Three days later

Ara was now farther than she had ever been from her home and she was loving it. Val’s latest quest was to find a sacred temple in the wilderness and bring back sketches and rubbings of the sacred text within. Nobody knew exactly where the temple was, so they were exploring and charting the dense forest as they went.

As it turned out, Val’s fear of spider was not dependent on their size. One evening as he’d been grabbing another log for the fire, a tiny wolf spider had scurried away.

This had given Val such a fright that he’d stumbled backwards, tripped over a log, and if not for Ara’s supernaturally quick reflexes, he would have fallen totally into the fire.

Ara had been quite right that this fear could be the end of an adventurer. For Val’s safety and for her own satiety, she needed to make some progress with him.

At dawn, she tugged him awake. “Come here,” she whispered, “I want to show you something.”

She could feel his excited heartbeat in his hand, sense the quivering of his energy. She pulled him just a little ways from the camp.

Sparkling in the sun’s earliest beams, stretched between two branches, was a gorgeous orb spider’s web.

Val tensed.

Ara put her arm around his waist and kept his hand in hers, running her thumb over his fingers soothingly.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she whispered.

“I…” he glanced down at her, uneasy but not wanting to disappoint.

“Look a little closer. See those main strands, the spokes? They’re not sticky at all. It starts with just three. She finds a spot at the top of the branch and creates a single strand and drops down. 

“Then, she lets the wind nudge her over to the side and she makes the second anchor. Then she climbs back up that strand, finds the center of it, attaches a new strand to that, and carries that over to the other side. That makes three spokes. 

“From there, she makes the rest of the spokes. And then, when they’re all nice and tidy and secure, she starts in the center. She makes a stickier thread and works a spiral out from the middle, spoke by spoke, all perfectly spaced, until the whole web is made.”

Val relaxed a bit at the sound of her voice. But he grinned wryly. “It’s beautiful, I suppose, but it’s for trapping and eating things.” He shuddered.

“Yes… but only unsavory things. Are you afraid of mosquitos?”

He scoffed, a bit proud. “No, of course not.”

“Well, you should be. A mosquito is much more likely to kill you than a spider.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Mosquitos carry all sorts of terrible diseases. And spiders eat them, help keep them in control. They also eat biting flies, pest moths. And so on.”

Val considered this silently.

She squeezed him with her arm around his waist. “It’s very natural to feel an aversion to creepy crawlies. Like I said, they sting, bite, carry diseases—”

“You’re not making me feel better,” Val said apologetically.

“But,” Ara continued, “If your fear is more dangerous to you than the creepy crawlies…”

“I know I should just get over it…” Val averted his eyes.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Ara squeezed his hand. “You don’t need grit, you need help. Call it… healing. Therapy.”

Val considered that. “What exactly would that entail?”

“Well, very gently, just getting a little bit more comfortable with spiders over time. Just a tiny bit here and here. Push your comfort zone a little every day. Start with a big distance. And let it get a little smaller over time.”

“Okay. I… that makes sense.”

“Oh! Here’s a good chance. Squeeze my hand as hard as you need to. She’s coming out to be proud of her handiwork.”

Val gripped Ara’s hand very tightly. The orb spider came up from a lower corner of the web, moving smoothly over it. Her legs were as slender and elegant as the strands of her web. Her abdomen was a brilliant emerald green, and as she reached the center of the web, she sat like a jewel in a crown of her own making.

Val’s heart beat quickly but he didn’t turn away. Slowly, his grip on Ara’s hand loosened.

She kissed the back of his neck. “Good boy.”

Continued in Part II

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