Shorts

Christmas Moonshine (Part II)

Continued from Part I


Ruth perched the knit version of Obbie on her dresser, and while it certainly helped imbue some Christmas cheer into the air, her apartment still felt a bit lonely and chilly.

Ruth still wasn’t quite sure what to do alone on a holiday. She sat on the edge of her bed, rolling the little glass bottle between her hands. It was unlabeled, and wiggling the stopper out released the scent of peppermint. Peppermint schnapps, then?

“Christmas cheer in a bottle, right Obbie?” With nothing better to do, Ruth tipped back the little bottle and downed the whole thing. The liquor bit at her tongue, but she liked it. She liked her little apartment and she liked her little life, dammit. And she liked Christmas. Even when her mother called her tacky.

Ruth went to the kitchen and dug out a candle, then brought it back and lit it on her dresser, a safe distance away from the knit cat. It wasn’t exactly a roaring fire, but it was better than nothing.

Within a few minutes, the warmth of the liquor dispelled the cold. So thoroughly, in fact, that she might as well have been next to a bonfire after all. Ruth dove under her covers and wiggled out of her pajamas. 

She was feeling very warm. Hot actually. Especially in some specific areas. So, hot and bothered. Was she really getting off so much on finally being able to say ‘fuck you’ at her ex?

Or maybe the peppermint schnapps was stronger than she’d realized. Her pussy was throbbing something fierce. Was this the era of her life where she went and bought a bunch of sex toys? That seemed good. Who needs dick, anyway?

As the thought of growing her sex toy collection instead of her and her ex’s joint bank account sent hot arousal through her, Ruth officially hit the point of overheating and threw her covers off.

And then saw the strangest thing. Sprouting from between her legs was a life-size peppermint swirl candy cane dildo.

“What the…”

Ready to prove it an illusion or examine it closer, Ruth grabbed the end of the strange apparition and tugged, only to moan as pleasure zinged through her entire body. Touching the candy cane dick felt like how she could only imagine actually having a dick felt.

Ruth blinked rapidly, scanning her room for any sign that she might be dreaming. But as far as she was aware, she hadn’t fallen asleep. That was how dreams usually worked though, right? Except she could still remember her day, the shop and the…

Wait, did the old woman brew her moonshine with LSD or something?

Ruth turned and stared at the knit Obbie, half expecting it to blink at her. “Do you know anything about this? What’s going on?”

Knit Obbie was as silent—if cheerfully—as ever.

Needy throbbing turned Ruth’s attention back to the candy cane cock.

Tentatively, she reached for it again. Pleasure zinged up its length, sending her heart racing and her chest heaving.

“Ooooh boy. This is, uh… this is a good trip, right?”

Knit Obbie offered no response, but it was hard to feel apprehensive in his cheerful presence. If she was dreaming it was a non-issue, and even if she wasn’t… it wasn’t like she could un-chug the moonshine. Or, well, she could maybe call 911 and tell them that she’d eaten something, but…

Her hand drifted down to the base of the candy cane cock. It felt so fucking good. Not as intense as when she played with her clit, but she could feel every little touch along the length…

Ruth gave herself a couple experimental strokes and she shuddered. This was fine. She was fine. This was either a very good dream or a very good trip, and she didn’t care much either way.

Ruth quickly found a rhythm with the candy cane cock that had her moaning and bucking her hips. Then she felt something inside the cock, a pulsing heat and tingling cold down the entire length, the sense of squeezing and dripping… and then something thick and white oozed out of the tip of the candy cane cock.

Ruth paused, curiosity briefly overwhelming arousal. She swiped a finger over her tip, shuddering at the sensation, then put it on her tongue.

It was icing. Peppermint icing.

She turned to glare at knit Obbie. “You’ve got to be shitting me. What the fuck is this?”

The candy cane cock throbbed, and Ruth’s hips bucked, sliding the cock through her hand again and sending pleasure sparking out from the base. Ruth moaned. “Okay, fine, this is really fucking hot, is what this is…”

Ruth indulged, and no matter what she tried with the candy cane cock, it felt amazing. Pre-orgasmic ripples of pleasure sent more icing dripping from her tip, which she licked off her fingers.

Slowly, Ruth’s arousal built, and she could feel the familiar-yet-different edge, right there.

She’d better cum and get to bed… why exactly? She didn’t have work the next day. In fact, she had all night and nobody to bother her.

Ruth bit her lip, squirming with pleasure, forcing her hands to stay off the candy cane cock as icing dribbled down its length and she backed down from the edge. 

Then she resumed her luxuriant attentions, stroking and moaning, working up quite the sweat.

“Not so cold and lonely anymore,” she muttered to the knit Obbie as she teetered on the edge a second time.

This time as her hand found the shaft, every movement tingled with orgasmic pleasure. “Oh fuck… Obbie, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop this time…” Her hips bucked reflexively into her hands as she fucked the air, ribbons of icing already oozing out. Her breath quickened. “I can’t fucking stop… oh fuck… fuck!” Ruth’s thrusting hips lit some kind of new fire in her core as every muscle in her body clenched. A pulse of pleasure radiated from her base and then the candy cane cock erupted, huge arcs of warm icing hanging in the air and then spattering down around her.

“Ohhhh fuck…” Relaxation spread through Ruth’s limbs as she stopped bucking but still stroked gently. As she caught her breath, she expected sensitivity to overtake her, but it was actually the heat of greater pleasure that she found.

“Oh Obbie, I’m gonna… again… yes… fuck…. Oh!” Another climax thundered through her, even more intense than the first. And just when she thought she was spent, it happened again, a third wave of rhythmic ecstasy, showering her with yet more peppermint icing.

Finally, Ruth collapsed back into the bed, both hands at her sides but still cumming, little pulses of icing still oozing out of the candy cane cock.

Ruth scooped a handful of peppermint icing from her stomach and pressed her fingers deep into her mouth. It was the best thing she’d ever tasted.

As she shifted to scoop up more, the candy cane cock fell next to her on the bed, as if it had never been attached to her at all. She picked it up and licked the icing off the end—and found that it was, indeed, made of candy cane. Ruth wasn’t quite sure of why, but she giggled at that.

She licked up a few more handfuls of icing, then settled back into her bed. Whether it was a dream or drugs or actual magic that would result in her having to do a lot of laundry tomorrow, Ruth didn’t care much.

She sighed happily. “Happy fucking Christmas to me.”

Then, she added, “And happy solstice to you, Obsidian…”

And as her eyes drifted shut, too heavy to keep open any longer, she would have sworn the knit cat’s eyes glowed golden for an instant as the sound of purring brushed by her feet.


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Shorts

Christmas Dinner (Part IV)

Continued from Part III


The guests thus attended to, Elden turned his attention to Rosie, who was once again quivering eagerly.

“Now, what to do with these leftovers…” he said.

Rosies eyes fluttered, her legs straining against her bonds, wanting desperately to press together or somehow resolve the cold emptiness between them.

“Now remind me, how long does this concoction take to dissipate if you don’t cum it out?”

Rosie whimpered.

Elden grinned. “Days, isn’t it?”

Rosie shuddered, then reluctantly nodded.

Instead of giving her an answer, Elden brushed his finger through the air and the serving platter spun slowly on his magic.

“You do look quite pretty like this,” Elden said. “All bound and glazed.”

A golden tendril of magic trailed up Rosie’s cheeks, inspiring a shiver and a burst of hope in her heart.

“As much fun as it would be to keep you like this for days,” Elden said, “I do have need of you tomorrow.”

Rosie nodded solemnly, lest her enthusiasm earn her further denial.

“Good. You won’t make any such mistakes tomorrow, will you?”

Rosie emphatically shook her head.

“That’s a good girl. If you did, I’d have to punish you like this again. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Rosie’s cheeks flushed red, her legs quivered, then she nodded. Then paused, shook her head. Then nodded.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Elden crooned. “Did you lose track of which way I asked the question?”

Rosie nodded.

“With your brain so muddled, you really will be useless tomorrow. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Rosie shook her head, trying but failing to keep her breathing from quickening, her breasts from heaving.

Elden went and stood by her head, and Rosie turned her eyes up at him. 

He said, “All this attention tonight was really quite the tease, wasn’t it?”

She nodded. 

“You poor thing,” he crooned. “None of them know just how hard you can cum.”

Before Rosie could nod again, a tendril of golden magic traced up from her knee to her hip, and Rosie’s head tipped back against the table.

“Especially with all that magick in your veins. And so, so warmed up…”

More golden tendrils appeared, curling around each of Rosie’s breasts, trailing towards her mouth and her cunt.

She trembled and moaned, no longer able to hold back her pleas.

Elden smiled and the ring gag vanished from Rosie’s mouth. Her eyes widened. “Please, please I need it, I need to cum so bad, please, I-I’ll be so good, I promise, please I need it, please…”

Hot, red, ancient magic flared in Elden’s eyes and a golden tendril surged down Rosie’s throat, muffling her words again. Fiery magic that threatened to melt Elden’s icy calm tingled down his spine, and he took a deep breath and extinguished the flare. He needed to be careful with this one. One more word from her, and she might have unleashed what he had spent centuries carefully containing. Not that it was a bad containing. Perhaps channeled was a better word—guided and shaped how he willed, in the ways that brought him pleasure.

Just as he shaped his magic into the golden tendrils that thickened and probed, filling her throat and her cunt and her ass, squeezing her waist and her breasts, pinching hard at her nipples.

For as much as these guests and her begging had reminded him of when he was king, the cheerful red baubles in the evergreens, which Rosie had so carefully arranged, reminded him that he liked this life far better.

His magics wrung climax after climax out of the little elf who was by far the cleverest apprentice he’d ever had. As Elden pulled her through another climax, he resolved to do a better job of assuring her that he’d not be firing her for something so silly as mixing up bottles.

Perhaps it was that she was a young fae, and so overly afraid of mischief. The Convention was to blame for that, and Elden was happy to pay more than a few fines in order to teach Rosie what fae life really was. She was well on her way. In fact—

Elden was disturbed from his musings by a buzzing tension and the strong smell of juniper and jasmine. Had he not been distracted, he would have already felt the air shifting and pulsing with the will, I want… I want…

All fae magic started with the will, and Rosie’s was unwinding into the room around her. 

The hair on the back of Elden’s neck stood on-end like a concerned cat’s as his golden tendrils sniffed out the silky green ones forming in the air.

And then in the span of a moment in-between moments, Rosie was standing—no, floating—in front of him, a dress of silky emerald magic swirling around her, her eyes gleaming green like sunlight through leaves, looking like a queen of old.

Her voice whispered from the air all around them as her hand gently landed on the back of his neck. “I want you to feel good too…”

Elden swallowed. It was unwise to try and quell spontaneous outbursts of fae magic like this, and yet, between teacher and apprentice it was wise to maintain a certain amount of professionalism…

An emerald tendril brushed against the front of Elden’s ruby velvet trousers and he shuddered.

Rosie grinned, showing her own pointed canines. “‘Professionalism’? Come now, didn’t you say this is our culture?”

Elden forced a wry grin. “How long have you been reading my thoughts?”

“Since I decided I want you…”

Moments shifted, and then Rosie was standing in front of him, cheek against his stomach, hand against his growing bulge.

“…to feel good too.”

“You naughty little thing,” Elden gasped.

Rosie grinned. “I am, aren’t I? I messed up the potions… and now I’m being unprofessional…”Rosie’s fingers curled into the ruby velvet, and then it was gone, her own magic having pulled it away.

Elden stood, suddenly exposed, unsure of what to do, until her hot mouth folded around his length. Arousal quivered through him, rediscovering sensations. How long had it been? Decades? He had kept everything and everyone at arms’ length, and now here he was, cock-deep in his apprentice.

And it felt amazing. But he was supposed to be the one in charge, supposed to be the one taking care of…

Shhhhh,” whispered the air around him as Rosie pushed him onto the plush chair she’d conjured behind him.

“Y-you won’t get me quite that easily,” Elden said, mustering his will and magic to stir his golden tendrils again. If he could exhaust Rosie first, he could get through this with some amount of dignity intact.

Elden’s genius plan had the effect of inspiring Rosie to moan around his cock, which put his willpower on much slipperier ground. Here she was, enhanced by a fae stamina potion, and here he was, some decades since his last proper indulgence. To say that his heat was rising quickly was a understatement. She bobbed down his length, tongue swirling and pressing, moans buzzing under his tip.

“R-Rosie… if you don’t stop that, I’m going to… I’m going to…”

He tried to think of some suitable punishment, but all he could think was I’m going to cum.

He was on the brink and Rosie knew it.

How do you feel?” her voice asked from the air.

Her tongue swirled under his tip. He was dripping, but he could hardly afford to encourage her. And he was far from lucid enough to lie.

She pulled him slowly down her throat, lips pressing tight around him, and he couldn’t keep the moan from escaping. She brought him right to the edge again, then paused.

I said, how do you feel?

Dread mixed with hot arousal in Elden’s core as he realized that she was going to make him say it. She would keep him here, right on the brink, until he pushed her away or he said it. And the former was not an option, not with the way his whole body throbbed under her touch.

“It feels good,” he breathed.

What’s that?

“It feels so fucking good.”

And then she unleashed herself upon him and his arousal flared. “Rosie… Rosie!” Elden’s hips bucked as he hissed and plummeted over the edge.

Every candle flared, the logs in the fireplace cracked into sparks, and motes of light appeared around them. Outside the house, snow shuddered off tree limbs and the ice skating pont cracked from the center. Rosie drank deep and delighted, her lips around his base and their magic entwining.

Elden’s magic in Rosie thickened and swelled, pushing her into one last gushing climax.

As Elden’s breath finally slowed, Rosie tucked her cheek against his thigh. The dining room was dim, all the candles burned to their bases and the fire now only embers. The air now smelled of soot, juniper, and sex.

Despite Rosie’s best efforts, sleep soon overtook her slight form.

Elden’s magic swept her clean, but he lifted her into the plush bed she’d conjured and tucked her in with his own hands, then turned his attention to the guests and the fluid-drenched wreckage of a dining room.

Elden chuckled wryly to himself. “Just like the yultides of yore, if I do say so myself…”

Then he took a deep breath and undammed a stream of ancient magic. In a swirl of snowflakes and golden warmth, each guest was cleaned, their hair resettled, their clothes redressed, until they were just as they had been when they arrived. Coils of magic then spirited them away, each to their homes, dropping on their doorsteps at just the moment nobody was quite paying attention.

Each would remember a carriage ride home and report to their loved ones that they were quite sleepy, but would be happy to recount the experience the next day.

After a long, peaceful sleep, they would awaken to report an absolutely delightful dinner. Exactly what had made it so delightful, they couldn’t quite say… except that it was definitely the little bird, which despite its small size had been so very delicious that they couldn’t help but go back for thirds, fourths, or more.


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Christmas Dinner (Part III)

Continued from Part II


From the hallway Elden called, “And for dessert, we have…”

With a soft creak, Elden wheeled the serving cart into the dining room.

In the center of an oversized silver platter lay Rosie, on her back and utterly naked, trussed up with cotton twine—legs folded and spread, ankles bound together, arms tucked and bound by her sides, breasts tied together so that they shone upwards—like the prettiest Christmas turkey.

She wore a ring gag, her head tipped back on the platter, her brown eyes dilated to a shining black.

A slick sheen surrounded her on the serving tray—none other than the juices from her puffy, glistening cunt. While the guests had been struggling through their last course, Rosie had already been trussed up and marinating in the kitchen.

And now she was hot, wet, and ready, quivering with excitement.

The two men closest to the door—the ones who’d been debating the best way to cut a cigar, and the founding members of the club—stood suddenly. Their chairs went clattering and would have fallen, if not for a wisp of Elden’s magic.

Elden wheeled Rosie to the end of the table, the room silent except for the crackle of the fire and the quickening of breath.

“W-what is the meaning of this?” said one of the men at the end of the table, with a golden pocket square and curled mustache.

“Oh fuck,” moaned the man who’d been surreptitiously stroking himself under the table.

“I’m taking seconds,” breathed the woman seated at the middle of the table.

“Good friends, p-please,” said the man with the golden pocket square. “This is h-highly unprofessional…” His cock strained mightily against the front of his trousers, a wet spot spreading from the tip.

Elden smiled warmly at them, as if he’d brought out nothing more scandalous than a pumpkin pie. “There’s plenty for everyone, I assure you,” he said to the woman in the middle of the table. Then, to everyone, “You know the manners. Take your portion and pass, please.”

The silver tray slid onto the now-empty table, aligning Rosie’s mouth with the bulge of the man with the golden pocket square, and her cunt with the other founder.

He hadn’t said anything since Elden had wheeled Rosie in, and he now stared at her quivering breasts as his hips rocked slowly, rubbing his bulge against the table.

Tension thickened in the air, as ten desperate guests looked towards their de-facto leaders for whether they were allowed to break decorum. The man who’d been stroking himself edged, but brought himself to a quivering halt, not wanting to be the first to ‘break the seal’, so to speak. The woman in the middle of the table was now quite certain that this was a dream and so didn’t see any reason to hold off.

But they all looked to the two trembling men at the end of the table, who seemed frozen in place.

The only one moving was Rosie, who trembled and wriggled with desire to free both cocks. Her pleas turned to moans around the ring gag as another gush of juices joined the puddle in the serving tray. She wanted nothing more than to be spit-roasted like the holiday meal she so closely resembled.

It was for her benefit that Elden let the moment drag on so long. He would not let the Convention claim that he had not rendered adequate punishment. He could leave out the part about her enjoying it.

Finally, Elden said, “Please, honored guests. This is a cherished Christmas tradition of our culture. Your enthusiastic participation would be most honoring.”

“W-when you put it that way,” said the man who had been humping the table as he promptly dropped his trousers and freed his throbbing length. He plunged it into Rosie’s cunt, and they both moaned with the ecstasy of relief.

Still, the man with the gold pocket square hesitated. 

“Now, be very honest,” Elden said to him, magic weaving into his words. “Do you want this?”

“Fuck, yes,” breathed the man.

“Why do you hesitate?”

“It j-just seems so… so… crass.”

“Ah!” said Elden. “But of course. I may as well have asked you to take your own coat off, good sir.” Elden’s slender fingers hovered over the man’s belt buckles. “May I?”

The man nodded with as much dignity as he could muster while his friend pounded into Rosie.

Elden was in no hurry as he carefully undid the man’s belt, slipping it out of the loops and drawing a deep shudder, carefully placing it over the back of the chair and then slowly undoing each trouser button.

The man’s decorum melted with each touch until his throbbing cock rested naked on Elden’s fingers, and the elf guided it into Rosie’s mouth.

“Don’t worry,” Elden said, trailing a finger down Rosie’s breast before giving her nipple a light pinch. “She doesn’t need to breathe much.”

The last few threads of the man’s will snapped as his hips bucked of their own accord, driving his cock deep into Rosie’s hot throat. She gulped and swallowed around him, desperate for his release, heedless of a mortal’s need for oxygen.

And so the two founding members fucked Rosie onto each others’ cocks, moans quickly reaching a fever pitch.

Those anxious for their turns did not have to wait long, as the vice grip of Rosie’s cunt and the greedy pressure of her tongue soon rewarded her. As the co-founder gave one last thrust before he burst, Rosie sucked the other over the edge.

They had barely slumped into their chairs before the next pair of men grabbed the platter and pulled her onto their waiting cocks.

The man who had started stroking under the table had now edged two more times and was openly masturbating, leaning against the table with one hand and pumping with the other. “H-hurry the fuck up,” he growled.

Elden appeared at his shoulder. “Come now,” he crooned. “There’s no rush. Wouldn’t she look lovely basted? You’ll have plenty more to give.”

“Oh fuck, you’re right. I’m s-so… s-so… oh fuck, here it comes!” The man’s whole body stiffened as he erupted across Rosie’s leg, stomach, and breasts—far, far more than should have been possible.

In the doses usually administered, the supernatural effects of the Valentines Day concoction were subtle, but at these doses there was no hiding it, especially as the man hardly slowed his stroking.

“Fuck, I’ve never cum that hard…” The man kept moaning as his slicked hand slid easily over his shaft. “And I think I might… I think I’m gonna cum again… I’m gonna, I’m gonna!” The man’s eyes rolled back as he fucked through his hand and showered Rosie with another equally thick orgasm. This time, his stroking slowed, though his cock still throbbed and dripped.

“H-holy shit, Chuck, where did that come from?” said the woman across from him, who was rubbing her breasts through her shirt, her suit coat already haphazardly slung over the back of her chair, as her own wetness ran down her leg.

“I d-don’t fucking know,” he said, “But fuck it felt good…”

The man at Rosie’s mouth groaned and came down her throat, her chest bobbing with every swallow. 

The woman wasted no time kicking off her trousers and hauling the end of the platter with Rosie’s head towards herself, even though the man at Rosie’s cunt wasn’t done yet. The woman clambered up onto the table, and dropped her sopping cunt onto Rosie’s face, earning a delighted moan from Rosie.

“Fuck!” said the man at her cunt. “T-that’s making her squeeze so tight, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” His legs nearly dropped out from under him as he pumped into Rosie.

The woman riding Rosie’s face smirked. “All these greedy men, and you haven’t cum yet, have you sweetie? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Before the man who’d basted Rosie could take his position, the woman buried her fingers into Rosie’s cunt and reached around to find Rosie’s spot.

Rosie screamed with delight, as the man who’d basted her looked up incredulously.

“It’s my turn,” he said to the woman.

She rocked her hips against Rosie’s face. “Is it? You just came. Twice. So I think that means I get both holes now. Unless this little cutie likes it in the ass…” The woman looked back at Rosie.

Rosie nodded emphatically into the woman’s cunt.

“Well there you go.” The woman pulled hard on Rosie’s spot and Rosie moaned, tucking her hips to give easier access to her ass. With her legs so nicely trussed and spread, it was an easy thing.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” said the man, and he plunged inside.

Rosie’s moans escalated to smothered screams as the woman worked her cunt and the man pounded her ass. Rosie gushed around the woman’s hand, splattering the man’s hips.

“I-is she cumming?” he asked.

The woman chuckled. “Oh, when she cums, you won’t have to ask.”

As if on cue, Rosie’s breathing quickened and then hitched into one long, high scream as she squirted even harder, cunt and ass clenching with the waves of her climax.

“Fuck!” the man said, slamming one last time into Rosie’s ass. He emptied with a few clenches of his ass, even as Rosie kept cumming around him. “I-it’s like she’s m-milking me…”

The woman’s breathing quickened too. “Th-that’s right cutie, fucking milk that ba— ah… Ohhhh fuck!” She trembled through her own pulsing orgasm, and would have fallen off the table if Elden hadn’t been there to catch her and lower her into her chair.

As the next pair of men claimed Rosie’s throat and ass, the following pair were struck with that particular creativity that comes from being overwhelmingly horny, and found angles that let them fuck Rosie’s tits and cunt respectively.

That left only the man and woman who were closest to the fire, and who were now already entirely naked, due to the sweltering heat both within and without. They were both still in their seats, the woman with her fingers buried in her cunt and the man stroking his dripping cock, contemplating what they would do on their turn.

Hardly four thrusts in, the man at Rosie’s throat grunted and stiffened. The one sliding between her tits smirked. “Losing it already?”

“N-no,” he said, pulling out as if to prove it, but his cock throbbed and oozed from the ruined orgasm. Two more strokes with his hand had him erupting all over Rosie’s face. Instead of slumping back, he slid his still-dripping cock down her throat. “Fuck, I need more…”

One by one, the four men fucking Rosie finished (or finished again), moaning and emptying, filling and coating Rosie with another layer of cum.

As the platter slid to the end of the table, directly in front of the final man and woman, they were each hard pressed to part their hands from their throbbing genitals. So they didn’t, and the man buried his face in Rosie’s cunt while the woman cupped a breast for Rosie to suck on.

Meanwhile, the founders found themselves craving another round and stood at the end of the table, soon basting Rosie with their own prodigious contributions.

The sight and sound pushed the last two over the edge, the man bathing the floor and the woman soaking her chair.

Though that was hardly the end of it. True to Elden’s promise, they each had seconds and thirds and fourths or more. The platter filled with jubilant juices, and Rosie was thoroughly glazed with them. As the haze of urgency gave way to merry fucking, the two women took bets on who and how Rosie would cum again, and the men did their best to prove their prowess.

They milked another pulsing, gushing orgasm from her with a cock down her throat, a cock up her ass, fingers in her cunt, and a mouth at each breast. Her muffled screams of ecstasy filled the festive dining room as her juices filled the serving tray to nearly overflowing.

One by one, each guest succumbed to exhaustion, and Elden returned them to their spot at the table to slumber peacefully.

The last one standing—or, more accurately, sitting in his chair, head in his hand, too tired to stand but too horny to stop stroking himself—was the man who’d been first to stroke himself under the table and who had consumed the most of the magicked wine.

Rosie caught her breath, still trussed and juiced on the table, as Elden conjured himself a clean chair so that he could sit next to the last guest.

“And how are you feeling?” Elden asked.

“S-still so fucking horny…” he said. Indeed, his cock was dripping and had been for some time, forming a growing puddle at his feet. He stroked desperately, but his exhausted arm couldn’t provide enough stimulation.

“Put your arm down,” Elden said.

The man obeyed, though his hips bucked reflexively.

“Look into my eyes,” Elden said. “Focus.”

The man did so.

Elden’s eyes gleamed with magic. “Let it all out. Every last drop.”

Heat rushed over the man’s body and he relaxed, even as his cock twitched. His hands stayed limp at his side. “O-okay… yeah… oh yeah… fuck…”

With a quiet sigh of relief, the man’s twitching cock erupted another two orgasm’s worth of cum onto the floor between his feet, working out the last of the aphrodisiac and finally releasing him into peaceful slumber.


Continued in Part IV

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Christmas Dinner (Part II)

Continued from Part I


Elden returned to the dining guests to find that none had noticed his or Rosie’s absence, except that the wine in their glasses had fallen a bit low without her attentions.

With the slightest inclination of his will, the wine that Rosie had prepared and abandoned now distributed amongst the twelve glasses as if rising from below. Were any of the guests paying attention, they would have found their minds wandering in that crucial moment, and their senses then certain that nothing had changed.

But none of them were paying much attention at all. They were all finding that the warmth of the wine was settling into a few particular places more strongly than it usually did, but to their credit, the prim and proper group had remained professional so far. Elden licked the backs of his canines. It would be all the more delicious to break their decorum later.

It had been ages since he’d had an excuse for good, old-fashioned mischief. Now that Rosie was prepared for her next role, there was nobody to wheel out the fifth course—brie and toscano with steaming fresh bread—so it simply appeared amongst the existing dishes on the table.

The guests crooned with delight and helped themselves. The private thoughts of a few guests murmured that they ought perhaps to slow down on the wine if they were starting to think that food was magically appearing, but they dared not share notes with their friends lest they be mocked for getting too drunk.

Elden could help them forget that care. They’d soon have little need for it, or any others. He stepped to the head of the table and raised his hand, a matching glass now there.

“Honored guests!” he said, and every pair of dilated eyes turned towards him. These last few centuries, subtlety had served him better, but the moment reminded him of what it had been like to a be a king. He smiled warmly at his subjects, whose pliant wills were now all too ready to turn towards Elden’s regality. 

“I propose a toast,” he continued. “To charity, good food, and great friends.”

Twelve glasses and twelve smiles rose to meet the toast, along with a cheer of “here, here!”

Elden inclined his glass towards them. “Rejoice and drink deep the blessings of life.” A little golden thread of magic curled through his words, and the merry revelers did as they were told. Every glass was empty before it touched the table again.

Elden returned to his spot by the door to enjoy the progression of the fifth course.

In truth, he’d suspected Rosie’s mistake before she’d confessed. By the end of the third course, there hadn’t been a soft cock or a dry cunt at the whole table. The guests had done an admiral job of distracting themselves with conversation and commentary. The two men at one end of the table had gotten into a spirited debate about the best cigar cutting method, while the woman closest to the fire was speculating alongside the man with the tree-shaped pocket square about what cooking method might have produced such exquisitely juicy meat.

These efforts were quickly unraveling. The throbbing of cocks against the insides of neatly ironed trousers became to pressing to ignore, and the best one could do with the moan inspired by an accidental brush against a nipple was try to play it off as a reaction to the cheese.

And so the praise of the food took on a distinctly erotic tone. Moans and curled toes rippled down the table as the diners found they could string together no more cohesive a sentence than how good the food was, how incredibly good, oh and by the way, is it just me or is it very warm in here? 

The eyes of the man with the blue pocket square fluttered as his fingertips found the tip of his throbbing cock through the fabric of his trousers, muddled mind insisting that somehow this would solve his problem. “So, so good,” he muttered, at his turn to praise the food.

The one man who had not even dared to so much as subtly reposition his shaft, and who was now feeling the pinch of too-tight trousers especially strongly, finally determined that he could not help but retire to the restroom and do something about this. But as he reached for his napkin to disguise his condition from the rest of the guests, he found that it was no longer there. And before he could think much on the fact that he would have sworn it was just there, another wave of arousal overtook him. He flatted his palms against the top of the table, lest he do what he was so sorely tempted to do, and he muttered something about feeling very, very full.

Elden stepped up beside him then, gleam in his eye. “I hope you’re not too full for dessert.”

The man shivered despite himself, mouth parting as a gasp escaped him. “C-clearly couldn’t be more excited,” he said, forcing a polite smile.

“Excellent,” Elden said. “I think you’ll find it’ll hit the spot just so.”

Twelve glassy eyes fixed on Elden as he stepped out of the room.


Continued in Part III

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The Alchemist's Illusions, Part 3: On the Job

Chapter 18: Suggestion

Linza had been thinking about it all afternoon. She’d hardly been able to do anything else. Just like with illusions, the applications of a spell like Suggestion were limited only by the imagination. And, just like Phantasmal Force, she’d known of the spell’s usual applications but never considered its erotic potential.

And this was a rare opportunity. Suggestion was rarely taught except to academics and those who had shown remarkable integrity as a student and had already committed to a career in law enforcement. It was a subtle spell, and if the original casting were disguised and the suggestion reasonable, the subject may never realize that someone had manipulated them with magic.

Linza had never considered the power of bringing such a spell out into the open in this way, but since Primmen had suggested it, it was all that Linza could think about. She’d ended up sitting by a fountain in one of the side squares off of the main street, mind wandering through the implications.

The first and most obvious scenario was orgasm denial. The suggestion could be, ‘edge yourself until I tell you that you’re allowed to come’. With the spell duration of up to 8 hours, the final effect would be incredible.

Another option would be, ‘don’t masturbate today’. This, of course, could be planned for a time that was expected to be especially tempting, like right before a striptease.

Linza finally dug out a notebook to scrawl down the suggestions that came to mind, both as material for her writing and also in an effort to perhaps purge some of the frantic, lust-driven curiosity from her brain.

Edge yourself at work today, at least once every half hour, but don’t cum until you get home.

Go take a long bath and think about your favorite sexual memory, but don’t touch yourself yet.

Tell me about your most favorite sexual fantasies until you’re dripping.

Whenever you start to feel irritated today, feel aroused instead.

Bring yourself to orgasm without using your hands.

Every time someone asks how you’re doing today, moan ‘good’ like a slut.

Linza filled pages, but she was unsuccessful at purging anything from her brain—quite the opposite. She considered pausing by the break room on her way to the session to clear her head, if she had the time for it. She glanced at the clock—she was already a minute late!

Linza jumped to her feet and jogged over to the admin building. She weaved through the others milling in the halls and then finally found the entrance to the lecture hall. Breathless, she slipped into the back.

Tanyth had saved her a seat near the middle, which she both appreciated and resented. She’d have a much better view sitting with them, but she felt embarrassed as she squeezed past all the other folks on the edge of the row who’d been there on time.

After what felt like an eternity of apologizing and shuffling, she landed next to Tanyth.

“I miss much?” she whispered.

“No, you’re just in time!” They patted her knee.

Her stomach flipped. Lizna’s composure was already a total mess. As she shifted in her seat, shivering at the sensation through her vulva, she regretted not properly setting aside time to clear her head before the session.

Primmen was at the front of the classroom, and next to her was a man in a simple linen robe and nothing else. He had dark hair, olive complexion, and a medium build.

“…so it is of the utmost importance to remember that the most powerful organ in the body that relates to arousal is the brain. Therefore, suggestions that leverage the influence and expectations of the brain are extremely effective. These suggestions are also enjoyable when they are somewhat fantastic in nature. So, Victor and I are going to demonstrate one such scenario tonight.”

Primmen reached over to a bowl that sat on the table and plucked out a bunch of grapes. She plucked and ate one, and then offered them to others in the first row. “First, we must all agree that these are totally normal grapes.”

The front row ate their grapes and then nodded their confirmation.

Primmen thanked them and returned to the table. “Alright Victor, you try a few too, just to show that nothing’s happening yet.”

Victor obliged. He smiled. “Still feeling normal.”

“Excellent. Your robe, then?”

He shrugged off the robe and then stood before them, totally naked. He was flaccid, relaxed. “Reminds me of my days posing for drawing classes,” he chuckled.

“Alright, next I will cast the spell, and then you will all hear the Suggestion.” Primmen started chanting, moving her hands precisely through the air. She wore a bracelet of crystals set in gold, and those glowed and vibrated as she spoke. When the incantation was done, she looked Victor in the eye and said, “To you, these grapes will be as the most irresistible aphrodisiac. The slightest taste will leave you debilitatingly aroused. Each one will intensify the experience, and yet you will not be able to climax until you finish the bowl.”

There was one bunch left in the bowl, a reasonable snack.

Linza was impressed—of course her own imagination had been limited. She’d only considered suggesting somebody modify their behavior, not this type of perception modification! She would have to consider later how illusion and suggestion might synergize.

For the moment, nothing yet had happened.

“How do you feel?” Primmen said.

Victor smiled wryly. “A bit skeptical, to be honest. It seems too good to be true.”

“That’s quite alright.” Primmen smiled politely, but Linza saw an edge of smugness in her eye. She plucked a grape from the bowl and offered it to him. “Give it a try?”

He shrugged and popped the grape into his mouth.

He nearly fell over. 

Linza now appreciated why he was naked. Never had she seen a shaft swell to such an insistent throbbing so quickly.

He caught himself on the edge of the table “H-holy shit…”

Primmen turned to the classroom. “And thus is the power of a welcome Suggestion. It can speak directly to the unconscious and create effects that stun the conscious mind, even though it is the same body that creates both the effect and the feeling of surprise.”

“C-can I have another one?” he asked.

“Of course.” She didn’t move the bowl, which was now on the opposite side of the table as Victor. “Just come and get them.”

He pushed himself up and shuffled over to the side of the table with the bowl, legs shaking. With trembling hands, he plucked a handful of grapes and shoved them all in his mouth at once.

That time, he did collapse. He melted to the floor in a heaving moan, hand finding his shaft immediately as he started to masturbate.

Linza shifted to the edge of her seat, partly to see better and partly for how the seat’s edge pressed against her vulva, giving her some of the sensation that she herself now craved.

“Holy shit,” Victor gasped, “I’ve never felt so fucking turned on in— nnngh… in my whole life…”

Linza glanced around the room and was gratified to find that she wasn’t the only one feeling the heat—other audience members were gawking and flushed. Tanyth was still wearing their same outfit as before, including the lack of underwear. Linza surmised as much when the tip of Tanyth’s erection peeked out from under the edge of their skirt. They had a more placid demeanor than her, content to watch the show. Perhaps it was because they’d already orgasmed four times that day.

Victor’s moaning escalated.

“Remember,” Primmen said, “You won’t be able to orgasm until you finish your snack.”

Victor gasped and opened his eyes, looking up at the table above him and the bowl there. “C-can you…”

“You seem perfectly capable,” she said. “All you have to do is reach up and get them. Nothing’s stopping you.”

“B-but then I’d have to…”

“… you’d have to what?” The corners of Primmen’s lips twitched upward.

“To s-stop…” Victor’s face was a picture of desperation.

“To stop what?” Primmen’s lips pressed into a satisfied grin.

“T-to stop touching myself!”

Primmen’d voice was practically predatory as she purred, “Well, you can do that, can’t you?”

“No!” he moaned. “I c-can’t stop, I c-can’t fucking stop!” He stroked harder, but this only seemed to intensify his predicament as it brought him closer to the edge that he couldn’t reach.

Primmen’s smug control of the situation was nearly as arousing to Linza as Victor’s desperate arousal. The combination of the two had Linza’s blood boiling.

“You really can’t stop?” Primmen crooned.

“I swear, I’m t-trying, I’m really trying but…”

Why can’t you stop?”

“It feels too good… it feels… fuck, it feels amazing… ngh those grapes are, I can’t stop, they’re strong, I…”

Primmen leaned over and picked up the bunch from the bowl. “I suppose I can help you, then.”

She came around and stood behind him, so that he was between her and the audience. She plucked a grape from the bunch and fed it to him.

Victor moaned as if he’d just started masturbating after a long denial.

She fed him another, and clear pre-cum started to run over his tip.

Then she plucked a third, but regarded it. “Hmmm, this does look delicious. I might like one too. But then, if I eat it… could that mean you might never be able to come until the spell runs out?” Primmen’s eyes sparkled with mischief, a carefully crafted cruelty. Linza noted that exact expression, the mix of keen awareness and apparent indifference, to use in her illusions later. And in her own personal fantasies.

“No!” Victor gasped. “No, please, please, I need them, I need to come, I need to cum so bad…”

“Actually, nobody’s ever died from lack of orgasm.” Primmen pressed the grape against her closed lips, as if to ponder her decision.

Victor writhed, eyes going wide with desperation, but he couldn’t break his hands away from his cock. “I want to! I want tooo… please…”

She gave him the grape and he nearly swallowed it whole. That got him halfway through the bunch.

Linza was not sure that she herself would last through the rest of the bunch.

And so Primmen continued until Victor couldn’t even beg anymore, couldn’t even speak. All he could do was moan and gasp and whimper and stroke himself.

So, he didn’t notice as Primmen silently showed the audience that she was down to the last grape. She fed that to him, and Linza held her breath, waiting.

But nothing changed, yet. Had that part of the spell not worked?

Primmen winked at them, then said, “Victor, Victor look.”

Victor’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up and back at Primmen. He saw the empty stem.

It was like a jolt of electricity went through him. “Is that… did I… is that all of them?”

“It is all of them, Victor.” Primmen’s voice was a purr, her grin like a cat’s.

His breath was heaving, his body tense. “It’s… oh fuck… oh holy fuck… oh I can feel it coming… it’s coming, I’m, I’m—”

Linza had never seen a man cum so hard. He sprayed hard, multiple times, and then his cum flowed thick and white over his tip. It didn’t seem like it was going to stop as he moaned and moaned, more and more flowing out over his hand in waves. Finally, the ejaculate ran thinner and clearer. Victor mustered a groan and then collapsed back onto the floor.

Linza shook on the edge of her seat, desperately wishing it would be enough sensation to bring her to her own climax, but knowing that it would not be. She was dizzy, hot, over-aroused and under-stimulated.

Victor drew a deep breath and then heaved a sigh. “By the queen’s tits, Primmen, you really outdid yourself this time.”

Primmen smiled that predatory smile. “Thank you very much for your enthusiastic participation, Victor. Now, there are a few things I’d like to point out.” Primmen turned to the audience, immediately back in an academic tone. “Most importantly, notice how the last grape had no actual effect in and of itself. It was the idea of the last grape, and Victor needed to notice that it was the last grape, for the effect to be felt. It was purely psychological, though as I’m sure Victor will be happy to report, no less visceral than had it been physical.”

Victor nodded blearily. “It felt very… visceral…”

And with Victor still there on the floor, dazed and absolutely covered in cum, Primmen casually continued her lecture.

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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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Acardoc’s Instant Aphrodisiac!

[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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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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The Black Box, Part 6: Epilogue

Chapter 28: The Banquet

The publishers had covered John’s plane fare to the celebration. He was actually back in the same city as the gaming convention, though in a different part of town. 

He was wearing a black suit and tie and followed the directions through a swanky hotel lobby and into a lushly decorated event hall that was exactly what he had expected.

Every detail was soft, sensual, glimmering: burgundy curtains, velvet-covered tables lined with hors d’oeuvres, shimmering golden candelabras set out amongst the tables. Overhead were crystal chandeliers, glowing only dimly, so that the majority of the light was from the candles.

The hors d’oeuvres were a global tour of classic aphrodisiacs, including chocolate, caviar, oyster, strawberries, and pomegranates. There were others that John hadn’t heard of before, like bull testicles. 

Each with their own little label, gold script on black, explaining their origin and purported effects. Some were ethical nods at their historical counterparts, like a sugar powder for “rhinos horn”, or legal nods at their more illicit counterparts, like CBD-infused chocolate truffles.

The drinks followed a similar theme, including red wine and ginseng tea. 

There were something like a hundred other guests in the event hall. The place felt pleasantly populated but not crowded. They were all also dressed in black tie attire, a mix of suits and cocktail dresses. The tone was hushed, and all in all the event agreed even with John’s introverted sensibilities. He found himself relaxing.

Or, maybe that was the combination of the ginseng tea and CBD chocolates. Regardless of aphrodisiacs’ actual effects, the idea of a food or drink being able to induce arousal was itself arousing, and so the stories around them were just as important of the properties of the foods themselves. It had a similar appeal to the dial game and John made a mental note to write a scene about that, later. For the time being, he stood at one of the cocktail tables by himself, with a plate of chocolate covered strawberries.

“Oh my god!” A feminine voice called out nearby, “You’re ‘Just John’, aren’t you?”

John hadn’t initially thought she was talking to him, but that was the brand that he wrote his reviews under, so he turned to see.

Her nametag read ‘Mary, she/her’. She wore a strapless mermaid dress, shimmering gold and tight around all of her curves, including a cute tummy.

“Yeah,” John said, “I’m great. Look. Uh, great. You look, um, great.”

Mary blushed and giggled. “Thank you! I didn’t mean to bother you, I just had to come say I’m a big fan.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I’ve been following your work for a while, I really appreciate how you toe the line between giving an honest review, making it funny, and not totally pissing off the publisher. That’s not easy.”

John gulped. Talking to Mary was not going to be easy. She had a cute face, round cheeks and eyes that squinted shut when she smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “That feels a bit… flat after such a kind compliment, but I’m afraid I’m not so great at receiving compliments.”

“That’s alright!” Mary said, “Me neither. I also really liked your review for the Black Box.”

The review had just been published the night before, so Mary really did follow his work. It had overall been well received, and John’s Twitter link with his smut had seen quite a few click throughs. Wait, had Mary read his smut?

“I also, um…” she continued, her face flushing red, and she put one of her hands behind her neck, picking at her elbow with the other. “I really liked… the other stuff you wrote…”

“Oh! Um. Thank you.”

“I didn’t want to totally put you on the spot so I’ll leave it at that,” Mary said, talking fast, “But I just saw you and I was like, ‘oh my god, I have to say something!’ I hope you don’t think I’m a total creep.” She chuckled nervously.

“Not at all! I just wish I knew some of your work. Did you also get a review copy?”

“Yeah, I did! And I’m newer to the review scene, so don’t worry about it. I used to be a software engineer for EA, actually, but then I realized that I didn’t really want to make games so much as I wanted enough money to just buy all the games I wanted, so I recently transitioned to a tech startup. That’s been great, and then I’ve been doing reviews on the weekend for fun. So, I don’t have that much of a following yet, but I think they picked me because, um, well, I mostly review porn games.” Her skin flushed red again.

“That is noble work,” John said, “It’s hard to find good ones!”

“Yeah… until, this one, phew.”

“Right?”

“Just… wow. You summed it up so well in your review. And in your, um… appendices.”

“Heh, thanks. I always thought I’d be a game writer, not a… porn writer, but…”

“Well, did you ever think of writing for an erotic game? I actually have a few contacts for indie publishers! I could make some intros.”

“That would be… wow. Amazing. I’d love that!”

Before Mary could say anything else, the lights got a bit brighter and the Madame, which John recognized from the hologram, stepped out at the front of the room underneath a projector screen. She beckoned them to come and sit and enjoy the messages that their Black Boxes had prepared for them.

Mary turned, but hesitated, and said, “Do you want to come sit with me? I’m here by myself, actually.”

“Me too! So, yeah, that’d be great.”

There were velvet-padded chairs arranged in rows at the front of the room, and Mary and John settled in. They chatted a bit more as the rest of the room gathered, until the lights went dim and the projector came on.

The image used the same engine as the Black Box AR, a mildly cartoonish mirror of the event hall, similarly arranged with a bunch of seats. In those seats sat all of the characters, a significantly more colorful and chaotic bunch than the actual humans, and John quickly found Arya’s pink buns.

The characters included the hyper-masculine and the hyper-feminine and everything in between: skinny and fat, tall and short, black and brown and white, but also blue and yellow and every other color. There were even some anthropomorphic characters, a fox and a wolf and a lynx and others, some with full muzzles and digitigrade feet and others with just ears and tails.

One by one, they came up and shared in their own voice something they had learned about their player. The sentiments were poignant and thoughtful and occasionally silly.

“I learned that Stacy is really ticklish. She can even tickle herself!”

“I learned that Mike has been afraid most of his life. I’m really glad to say he’s not as afraid anymore.”

A male character stepped up, with a trendy haircut and a flower sleeve tattoo in a white t-shirt and jeans, and Mary perked. “That’s me!”

“I learned that Mary is brilliant with game theory. She’s had some absolutely incredible ideas for our time together. I also learned that she worries that her intelligence makes her less feminine, but I’m working on convincing her that that couldn’t be less true.”

John glanced over. Tears were running down Mary’s cheeks, and without even pausing to consider that his suit was rented, he handed Mary his pocket square. She nodded and wiped her face, dabbing carefully to avoid smudging her makeup. He leaned a bit closer and whispered, “He’s right.”

She made a show of hiding behind her hands. “I told you, I’m not good with compliments!”

A few minutes later, John watched with a mix of anxiety and excitement as Arya stood and walked to the front. “I learned that John is kind and thoughtful. He is deeply respectful of others’ rights to simply be themselves, probably because most of all, he yearns to just be able to be himself. I think, if I may be so bold, that I can say that John is quite a bit better at being himself, now.”

As Arya turned and returned to her chair, it was John’s turn to start crying. Mary offered him her cocktail napkin from under her plate with an understanding smile.

Even before the presentation had finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the whole place. John had never seen or experienced this kind of group catharsis before, this broadly shared emotion. Strangers cried together and hugged each other, patted each other’s shoulders and passed boxes of tissues around. 

After the last Black Box said their bit, the Madame came back up to the front of the room, and she, too, was crying. Through her tears, she took a deep breath. “If you’re here tonight, you heard my hypothesis. I don’t know where you came from, or what you’ve held with you. I hope you find that my hypothesis has rung true, and continues to do so. Regardless, I do know one thing for certain. I am deeply grateful for each and every one of you and honored to have shared in a small part of your journey. That’s… all I have to say, really. You’ll each find a gift under your chair. There will be live music, and we have the venue until 2am. Feel free to stay as long as you like until then. I’ll be around until about 10, so do come find me if you’d like to meet or chat. There’s only one thing left to say, which is: bon voyage.”

The crowd moved slowly after that, stirring gently and thoughtfully, a bit like an afterglow after such intense emotional release.

John and Mary kept chatting as they went for more wine and strawberries. They sat and listened to the music, and even tried to dance. 

John went lighter on the wine than he would have before. He found that he didn’t need it to feel comfortable, not even talking to Mary. More importantly, he didn’t want to miss any detail or lose any memory of the evening.

The swell of the music filling the space, the feeling of life in his fingers and toes as he danced, the ache of laughing way too hard at something Mary said, the softness of her hand in his, the way his heart skipped whenever her eyes met his.

It had nothing to do with the wine, the way he felt like he was sinking deeper and deeper into something warm and wonderful…

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