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The Art of a Bad Day

[META] June 2021 Contest: Representation from DirtyWritingPrompts

It’s natural to take out your frustrations on your partner. 

Jasmine and May had made an art of it. 

And it was exactly what Jasmine needed as she trudged the last few steps up to their apartment, back aching from carrying her work bag the long walk home from the train station, a walk that should have been a ride except her phone had died and she hadn’t been able to call the ride share.

Her phone had died because the thirty minute client call at the end of her day had become a two hour call, of talking in circles with the client because they insisted they’d already asked for a feature despite signing off on a scope of work that didn’t include it.

As she turned the key in the lock, she was feeling more riled up than exhausted. She’d learned to not shy away from that fire, lately. 

May was there to greet her. She wore nothing but an apron and a thong, and her plump thighs and arms jiggled as she waved Jasmine in. She was of Chinese descent, black hair and monolid eyes, though Jasmine actually spoke more Mandarin than May did, after a multi-year project with a Chinese client.

Jasmine was a few inches taller, Black, with her natural hair cut to a long ‘fro. May always said it looked angelic. Right now, Jasmine felt devilish.

Jasmine slumped her bag against the wall as May stepped over to give her a hug.

“How was work?” May asked.

“I need to hit something,” Jasmine said with a wry smile.

May sidled in a little closer, kissed Jasmine’s cheek, then looked up at her. “I volunteer as tribute.”

Jasmine reached around and smacked May’s ass. 

May gasped and whimpered, clinging closer to Jasmine’s chest.

Jasmine’s hand stung, but it was worth it. She dug her fingers into May’s shoulder and turned her around, steering her over to the bedroom. 

May happily complied.

It was not so long ago that Jasmine had felt guilty to even use a sharp tone of voice with May. Even if May asked for her to, what if it was still too mean? What if it made Jasmine an ‘angry black woman’ after all?

But then, Jasmine had learned how to ask different questions. What if she was afraid of how much she loved it? What if it made her powerful? What if it made her happy, the first and foremost thing that black women were not allowed to be?

So, Jasmine had embraced it, much to May’s delight. 

By this point, they had worked out the kinks. 

So very many kinks. (Bondage, name-calling, impact play and more…)

Jasmine shoved May onto the bed, though May was already swooning. Jasmine flicked open the nightstand drawer and grabbed the paddle that was ready and waiting, cracking it against May’s ass without warning.

May gasped and jumped and then moaned into the pillow. “What did I dooo?”

It was part of the game. Jasmine smacked her other ass cheek with the paddle, and didn’t answer. She loved the way May’s plump ass and thighs jiggled with each strike.

May asked again, “What did I do?”

Jasmine answered with as hard a strike as she could manage.

May gasped, the cheeks of her face tinging pink, her eyes fluttering with pleasure, her open mouth falling against the bedspread.

An expansive, powerful feeling welled in Jasmine. She had needed to keep herself reined in, polite with the clients and now she did not. 

Instead of tamping down this energy, she had held it, kept it ready and waiting for this moment.

Jasmine swung another hard strike at May’s other ass cheek, the sharp snap echoing in the small room.

She learned that while she did not necessarily enjoy inflicting pain in and of itself, she loved to inflict sensation. To make herself felt. To flood May’s body with the hot, heavy feelings that May craved, to send her spiraling down, down into sub space, to turn the other woman into a quivering pet and then to take very, very good care of her.

“W-what did I do…”

“Hush. I’m using you.”

May yelped and quivered. She loved it when Jasmine said things like that. Jasmine followed with another series of spanks, savoring May’s squeaks and gasps. 

When both the cheeks of May’s face and ass were rosy red, Jasmine set the paddle aside and traced her fingertips down May’s spine.

May gasped and shivered.

Jasmine cupped her hands over the warm skin of May’s ass and kneeled behind her, trailing soft, tender kisses along her cheeks.

May sighed and melted into the bed, totally surrendered to Jasmine’s touch.

Jasmine curled her fingers to claws and raked them lightly down May’s thighs. May shivered and moaned.

Jasmine moved smoothly from impulse to action in this headspace, polite inhibitions set aside, and May loved it that way.

Jasmine grabbed May’s ass, pulling her cheeks apart to get a better look at May’s vulva. The inner labia were already puffy. Jasmine gently dipped her finger between them, pulling out a deeper moan from May along with the wetness on her fingertips.

Jasmine grinned and swirled her now-slick fingertips over May’s clit.

May moaned open-mouthed into the bedspread.

Jasmine tsked. “C’mon, you know better than to drool on the bed. Don’t make a mess.”

May squeaked and struggled to collect herself. “I c-can’t help it!”

Jasmine reached her hand around the front of May’s hip on one side and pulled. “C’mon, roll over.”

May obliged. Her eyes were glazed with pleasure, her expression dazed.

Jasmine stepped over to the closet and grabbed the waterproof blanket, throwing it over the other side of the bed. She patted the middle and May eagerly shuffled over.

Before May even had a chance to settle, Jasmine was on top of her, her fingers inside of May and curled up to her g-spot. 

May cried out with pleasure.

Jasmine smirked. “Oh, do you like that?”

“Y-yes… fuck, you feel so good…”

“Oh yeah? How about now?” Jasmine started fucking May with her hand and May’s face became the most perfect picture of desperate bliss. She was incapable of answering Jasmine’s question, just as Jasmine had hoped.

May was clever as they come, except for moments like these when she sunk into sub space, and that made it all the more fun to remind her, “You look like such a useless whore.”

All May could do to respond was gush pre-orgasmic bliss over Jasmine’s hand.

“F-fuck, I’m close…”

Jasmine worked May right to the edge, then abruptly stopped stroking.

May gasped and shook, looking up at Jasmine with those big brown eyes, full of desperation and indignation.

“Please!”

“No. Not yet.”

“W-why?”

“Dunno, just don’t feel like it yet.” And that was the truth. Jasmine loved this part. She loved saying ‘no’ for no reason at all, just because she felt like it, just because she wanted to tease and torment May. 

At work, clients expected ‘yes’. Any ‘no’ had to be exactly justified, carefully delivered. 

Not here. The more arbitrary, the more whimsical the ‘no’, the more May loved it.

Because May loved to unravel like this, to be totally vulnerable and utterly safe, to feel all of these delightfully tortuous sensations and know that she would be so much more than alright.

Before May could protest any more, Jasmine resumed finger-fucking her and May’s protests melted to moans.

May squirted again, quickly approaching orgasm.

Jasmine edged her a second time. May sputtered, lifting her hips to grind up into Jasmine’s hand.

Lucky for May, Jasmine was getting similarly eager for the climax.

That warm, expansive feeling surged out of Jasmine’s chest and sent her whole body tingling, alive with the consciousness of what she was doing to May, of how it made herself feel, every nerve alight with electric power.

This, to Jasmine, was what it meant to be a sadist.

As May approached the edge again, her moans became louder.

Jasmine smirked. “Remember, we got that noise complaint. Be sure to cum quietly…”

May’s eyes widened, briefly brought back from the edge. She looked desperately worried. “Y-you know I can’t when you make me squirt!”

“I believe in you.”

“N-no, Jazz, I c-can’t, you have to—”

Jasmine cut her off by fucking her harder. “Nah, I know you can be quiet if you want. If you scream, it must be because you want the whole block to know what a slut you are.”

The words pushed May even harder towards the edge, deepening her predicament.

May now gripped the blanket, trying desperately to keep control of herself. Her eyes rolled back and re-focused, she gushed over Jasmine’s hand again.

“Ohhhh fuck…”

Jasmine grinned, her own heart beating fast and her own arousal surging. Inflicting this most intense of pleasures on May was her favorite of all.

Every muscle in May’s body was tense, like a wound spring, her inner walls squeezing around Jasmine’s fingers, her hips bucking. 

May’s breath turned to rapid panting, her chest heaving. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

She screamed — indeed loud enough for the neighbors to hear — and squirted hard. Jasmine fucked her through the surge of the climax and then the long tail of after-shocks.

Tension drained out of May with each pulse, until she was left soft and exhausted on the bed.

Jasmine grinned and licked off her fingers, taking a moment to strip off her clothes and toss them into a pile by the nightstand before returning to the bed and curling around May, her cheek on May’s forehead. 

May moaned softly and tried to stir, too tired and dizzy from sub space to form actual words, but Jasmine knew it was something about reciprocating.

Jasmine was aroused, certainly, but she was also sated. She’d gotten the release that she was after.

The powerful heat had gone soft and warm, and all she wanted to do was caress the beautiful, brave little woman.

“Shhh. You can make it up to me tomorrow.”

May nuzzled into Jasmine’s cheek and Jasmine kissed her forehead and together they drifted off into bliss. 

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Shorts

Faster Than Light

[WP][TT] At the last minute you were invited to help crew the worlds first FTL ship. They may have neglected to mention you’re the lewd, experimental fuel source from DirtyWritingPrompts

Mason Jones was over the moon. Literally! Over the moon! Further away from Earth than the moon!

He’d been on the waiting list for space travel for years. And being on that list owned your life whether you were selected or not. You had to eat perfectly, exercise perfectly, regular blood tests, twice yearly check-ups, it was a whole thing. Only those in tip-top shape were allowed to even stay on the list.

As Mason watched the earth become smaller and smaller behind them, he marveled that it had only turned around twice since he’d been notified that he’d been selected for the mission. And not just any mission. The mission of the century. The maiden voyage for faster than light travel.

It had all been a blur since then. Something about him meeting a certain physical qualification based on his most recent test results. Something else about his predecessor dropping out. Their loss!

And now, he was here, in space!

Soon the ship was millions of miles away from Earth, in empty space, and it was time to start preparing for faster than light travel. And to meet the rest of the crew. In all the rush, they’d hardly been introduced. There were six of them altogether; the pilot, the co-pilot, the navigator, the mechanic, the researcher, and then Mason.

“So, uh… I don’t think they quite told me in all the rush, but what’s my role here?” From what they’d listed, they seemed to have it covered.

The rest of the crew shifted uncomfortably, except for the researcher. She was a black woman, late twenties, round eyes, button nose, and like everyone else on the crew, in impeccable physical condition.

The pilot, a Scandinavian man with blond hair and nearly clear skin, blushed. “They didn’t tell you?!”

Mason tried not to let his growing concern show.

“Guess they didn’t want the same thing to happen as with Dutch,” said the mechanic, a thick woman with brown hair and blue eyes.

“You’d better tell him,” said the pilot, looking at the researcher.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” the researcher said. “FTL is theoretically possible with a careful warp of the space-time continuum. Recent research has indicated that human consciousness is more multi-dimensional than initially expected. Desire is inherent to the existence of life and thought to be species agnostic, so the theory goes that with sufficient desire, an FTL jump to another compatible concentration of desire is possible. This will cause the space-time fabrics to collapse, allowing instantaneous transport over light years.”

The pilot shook is head and put his hand to his forehead. “Tch, in English, Kendra?”

Kendra tilted her head. “That was an extremely simple explanation.”

The mechanic sighed. “What the good doctor here is trying to say is that FTL apparently runs on sexual torture.”

“Say what now?” Mason said.

“This is why your predecessor dropped out last minute,” the pilot explained.

Mason tented his fingertips in front of his chin. He caught eyes with the researcher. “I just have one question. Is it going to hurt?”

“Only if you want it to,” she replied.

A shiver tingled down Mason’s spine and his growing confusion was replaced with a growing boner. He was beginning to understand which ‘physical qualifications’ may have resulted in his invitation.

“Well, I will do whatever I must to make FTL possible. I didn’t measure my alcohol consumption down to the milliliter for the past five years to let a little bit of sexual torture stop me from making space history. Let’s get to it. For science.”

And for the predicament bondage and sexual torture fetish that he was now sure the government had scraped from his browsing history. 

The researcher had horrible bedside manner and that made the whole thing that much more thrilling.

Mason was taken to the center of the ship to a rig that comprised a body-shaped armature and a lot of bindings. He was sure that the space administration had spent millions of dollars engineering what was already available on the market as bondage furniture. 

The researcher had already explained to him everything that was going to happen, and he felt quite excited. He could also sense the eyes of the rest of the crew, grateful but curious, and perhaps slightly judgmental of his enthusiasm. And, shameless pervert that he was, that turned him on even more.

His flight suit could not hide his erection as the researcher finished preparing the machine. 

The researcher noticed. “It’s not that time, yet.”

“Yes, but a good service member is always prepared.”

“Hm.” She didn’t laugh, but she did seem amused. 

Finally, it was time to strip and strap in. Mason’s heart pumped hot blood throughout his whole body, but especially to his member. He shed his flight suit and underclothes and then the researcher secured him to the frame. 

She prepped a needle and an IV canister, and Mason looked away as she pierced his vein. This would be a mix of fluids, to ensure that he did not become too dehydrated, and a powerful aphrodisiac.

Even before the bag was empty, the drug started to hit Mason. It was an overwhelming surge of arousal and he strained reflexively against the bonds. He felt so hot, and so hard. And this wasn’t even the full effect.

Fuck, he needed to fuck something! His hips pressed against the bindings.

He focused on taking deep breaths to calm himself while the researcher finished her administration. He’d be able to go crazy with lust in just one more moment.

Once the IV canister was empty and the needle removed, she stepped around the front and swung another piece of the armature into place. It supported a cylinder aligned with Mason’s cock, and it looked quite similar to a masturbation sleeve he’d owned once.

As with the armature, he was sure that the space administration had spent millions — billions even — creating something that had been available to kinky consumers for decades.

But such thoughts vaporized from his mind the moment the cylinder slid over his over-sensitive cock. It was soft, textured and lubricated inside.

He moaned shamelessly at the sudden rush of pleasure.

The researcher moved back to the outside of the room. A series of concentric rings around Mason started spinning, though his part remained still. The researcher had explained something about the rings magnifying the effect and grasping the space time fabric, whatever that meant.

All he could think about was his body pounding his heat, quivering in an attempt to fuck the cylinder but held tight by his bindings.

Then the rings whirred to life and so did the cylinder. It squeezed around him, something near his frenulum vibrated, and he was totally overwhelmed with pleasure.

With the effects of the aphrodisiac, it was not long before he was moaning and panting on the edge.

But he knew, with profound and painful pleasure, that he was going to be on that edge for a very, very long time. This, the researcher had also explained. The space time fabric had to be given enough time to ripple.

He would orgasm when the ship made the FTL jump, and not a moment before. The armature was monitoring all his vitals, controlling the vibrations and the pressure in the cylinder, and it completely controlled his ability to climax.

The edge, the denial, the desperation aroused him even further and deepened his predicament.

After a few minutes at the torturous edge, Mason clawed his way back to thinking actual thoughts to give himself a bit of a respite. He found the researcher, watching him, and grinned wryly. “So, uh, who’d you test this out on before?”

“An adequate sample size.”

“Ohhh, so you’ve had quite a few blokes through your frame.”

“You’ll have a bullet through your head as soon as we’re back to earth if you make inappropriate remarks to me.”

“Right! S-sorry, just… not quite thinking… straight…”

“Please do surrender yourself to insatiable desire.”

Mason shivered violently. “T-minus… ngh… two or three edges and we’ll be there…”

“Would some visual stimulus assist your descent into sex-crazed madness?” Her tone was deadpan. But Mason would have sworn she was fucking with him on purpose… or maybe it was just him projecting.

“I, uh, daresay it might.” What kind of hilarious science porn might she have?

But then the researcher moved into the center of Mason’s field of view and unzipped her flight suit.

Mason gulped, arousal flaring hotter.

She grinned at him, letting him simmer in that anticipation. Okay, she was *definitely* also getting off on this.

Then, she reached down and grabbed the hem of her undershirt, starting to pull it up.

Mason quivered, every nerve alight with desire.

“For science,” she said, and pulled the shirt the rest of the way over her breasts.

Mason’s heart pounded, his breathing came in rapid gasps, the heat of the edge tickled at his base, the rings around him whirred with energy, but there was no release. No relief.

“Don’t you want to fuck me?” she teased.

Mason’s dick screamed ‘yes!’ but a quiet and steady part of him said, “O-only if you want me to…”

“What if I want you to be here, trapped, quivering on the edge until your brain melts into insanity?”

Mason’s hips thrust involuntarily against the bindings, every hair on his body stood on end, the rings whirred louder. His balls tensed, but he didn’t come.

“What if I don’t want FTL to work,” she said, slipping a hand down into her panties, “And I haven’t turned off the safety, and so I will do this to you over and over again until you’re physically incapable of arousal, and we’ll have to turn around and head back to earth?”

“Fuck!” The rings were whirring so fast that they became a blur, a transparent curtain between Mason and the researcher.

And then something shifted. Mason moaned with a deep pleasure. He felt his sense of self expand, he was aware of something outside the ship, something very very far away, and yet also right in the center of him.

Something was coming together. Something very, very important was coming together.

“I f-feel something…” he said.

“Give into it,” the researcher said, eagerly. “Let it call to you.”

“It’s calling… oh fuck, it’s calling… oh god…”

The researcher grinned, eyes wild with anticipation. “God can’t help us where we’re going!”

The pleasure of the edge was expanding through his body, but slowly, very slowly. As if it was carrying something with it. Like a piece of the space time continuum and the ship of six space goers trying to bust through it.

“I’m so close… it’s so close… oh fuck it feels good… I need it…”

“Yes!”

“I want it…”

“Yes!”

And this his breathing became deeper, faster. His body quivered. His cock throbbed with pleasure, his whole being buzzing with heat and anticipation. “I’m… I’m coming… oh fuck… I’m coming… I’m coming!”

The researcher slammed her fist on the intercom button. “We’re going!”

“Fuck, yes!”

As the ship broke into the impossible space between space, Mason released his first thick spurt of cum into the cylinder. Wave after wave of pleasure rippled through him, squeezing more cum out of him, as the ship passed through fields of strange energy and hurtled through space.

Then, finally, Mason relaxed and the ship came to a stop.

In a completely different system, on the other side of the galaxy.

They’d done it!

But Mason was too exhausted to celebrate. 

The researcher came over and hooked up another IV canister for him, this time without aphrodisiac. “You did great,” she said. “Do you think you can do it again?”

As he let sleep overtake him, he murmured, “To infinity and beyond…”

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Professor’s Predicament (Part II)

Continued from Part I

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

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

He quickly shut the door behind himself and locked it.

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

“What are you doing there?” he said.

“It was an accident.”

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

“Uh huh,” he said. “An accident.”

“Really!”

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

“Why are you here, though?”

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

Julia flushed with appreciation and renewed arousal.

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

“Yes! Can you let me out?”

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

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

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

“Oh god, Bradley, not the puns…”

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

“Bradley…”

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

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

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

Julia was too aroused to complain this time.

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

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

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

She squealed with pleasure.

“Shhhh…” He pinched her other nipple.

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

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

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

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

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

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

There were footsteps in the hallway.

Bradley grinned and stepped behind her.

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

He didn’t reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Julia gulped.

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

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

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

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

Then he stood and put his fingertips to his belt.

She quivered with expectation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” she gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet,” he said.

“Why?!”

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

“W-what about my fun?”

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

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

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

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

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

Every nerve in Julia’s body tingled with heat.

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

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

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

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

“Yes, please, yes yes, yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

Julia moaned loudly.

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

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

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

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

He kept up his exact pace.

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

And it was this perfect, slow, incredible explosion.

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

Then a second clear wave. Then a third.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better get back to work,” she sighed.

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

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

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

“Are you sure?!”

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

“But what if…”

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

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

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

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

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Shorts

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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Part 3: Feature Set, The Black Box

Chapter 14: Dial a Friend

“I liked how you took control when you fucked me,” Arya said, “So I dreamed up another game for you. This one is called ‘dial a friend’”. 

“How does it work?” 

“It’s a simple one and not so realistic, but I think it’ll be fun. I give you a dial. Zero is like this, y’know, normal. 10 is edging, and 11 is coming. You set the dial.”

An illusory dial appeared in the air in front of John, and he mimed reaching out and grabbing it and turning it slightly. It clicked to 1. 

Arya grinned. 

“Any other rules?”

“Nope. I can literally orgasm forever. If you like, I can have it be that something is happening to me, like the tentacles again or I could have a vibrator, but I thought it being just sheer, direct arousal would be fun.”

“I agree.” John twisted the dial to 6. 

Arya yelped, face red, body twitching, and she fell forward and caught her hands on the back of the couch, pressing her legs together and moaning as a wave of wetness spilled from her parties. “C-cutting r-right to the ch-chase, huh.”

“Oh if this is just six, I can’t wait to see what nine and ten look like.”

Arya nodded encouragingly. 

“But not yet.” He brought the dial back down to three and Arya stopped shaking. 

“May I touch myself?” she asked.

“No,” John said. “Keep your hands where they are. Better yet, I want to see you in a wingback chair with your hands bound over your head, and your feet bound to the two front feet of the couch so that you’re spread for me, and lets add a funnel set into the seat of the chair and some beakers underneath so I can see just how much you’re leaking.” His own confidence surprised him, but it felt good.

The scene took shape as he spoke, and Arya beamed with pride. “Yes, sir!”

To see her all trussed up like that, a thin stream of wetness already draining into the beaker below the chair, was deeply inspiring. 

John settled back against the couch and started stroking himself, and enjoyed the turnabout of keeping Arya waiting. 

He figured he’d start off by seeing what each setting looked like, and then he could go from there. 

Four got her squirming periodically. 

Five drew out lusty sighs and a thicker stream of wetness. 

Six returned her to moaning and the waves of wetness that had soaked her panties, which she’d done away with in her transition to the chair. She started to say something but before she could, he ticked to seven, which had her breath heaving and her breasts bouncing, her legs twisting against the bonds, trying to clamp together, to get any stimulation, any anything, to address her desire.

Eight was like a pre-orgasmic wave of pleasure, panting moans that each came with a gush of wetness. 

Nine was the awareness of the edge, the peering over, the “I’m gonna… I’m so close… God, I’m so fucking close, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

Ten was the edge itself, the precipitous moment of pure bliss, the weightless beginning of the descent. Through magic of the game it could go on indefinitely, Arya’s face a perfect depiction of ahegao, her body still like the calm before the storm. 

Eleven was the orgasm, the scream, the rhythmic contractions, the gush after gush of femcum that flowed down into the beakers. 

John spun the dial back down to one, now thoroughly warmed up and ready to play the game in earnest. 

Arya caught her breath and licked her lips. “Now that you’ve kicked the tires, what do you think?”

John grinned. “I like this one a lot.”

“Thats goo—” he cranked the dial to seven, “—oooooooooh, ah! Hah hah!”

Back down to five. Arya’s breath slowed back down and she dripped steadily. “I can see you’re really enjoying your s—” he set it to eight, “Ssssoooo good, god it feels so good, I can’t take it, please, please I—” to nine, and a wave of relief washed over her. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna… I think… fuck… fuck I’m so close I… I’m gonna…”

Back down to four. “I’m gonna fucking kill you,” Arya said. “Nnngh is this what I do to you?”

John grinned. “Yeah, pretty much.” In fact, it probably was based on what Arya did to him, if he was guessing correctly how her algorithms worked.

He stroked himself casually, his rapt attention to Arya’s desire the only thing keeping him from putting his own self right over the edge. 

Arya gave him a wry grin. “I’m gonna regret asking this but… do you have a favorite setting?”

He turned it back up to seven so that she was panting again. “I like the way you pant, here, and the way you drip so much, like you want to be fucked so bad.”

“I DO want to be fucked so bad, or at least touch myself!”

He set it to eight. “And I like here, how you beg.”

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Arya said, “I can’t help it! It’s hah, so, so, ngh, I can’t take it, I need, I n-need release! I w-want to come so bad I— please, let me touch myself! Please! Please, John, please!” She yanked against the restraints, trying to shake them loose but unable to, trying to press her legs together but unable to, trying to grind against the chair for sensation but unable to, begging to come but unable to. 

“And I like to watch you come,” John said. Arya’s body twitched violently in anticipation but he didn’t spin the dial. “Not yet. I love them all, but my favorite, my absolute favorite, is this one.”

He set the dial to nine. 

“John! John I’m so close! Fuck, I’m gonna fucking… soak your floor… goddamn I just need… hah, fuck, oh! I’m coming… I’m coming… Joooohn I’m gonna, I’m gonna, I, please, I’m gonna… fuck!”

It was an endless stream of pre-orgasmic exclamations strung together and it was driving John into an absolute frothing boil of desire.

Hearing her like that was like twisting to 9 on his own dial. Just before he lost capacity for thought, John came up with an idea of how to finish that was appealing enough that he found his focus. 

He reached for the dial again and tipped it slowly through 10 and to 11. “I’m coming I’m coming I— … OH, FUCK, aaaaaaah!” Arya panted and shook and gushed. 

John pulled the dial back to 9. “Nnnngh I’m so close! Shit!”

Then back to 11. Then back to 9. “Can you keep doing that on that same rhythm?” John asked. 

Arya herself was too busy orgasming to answer, but after a moment the dial tipped back to 9 of its own accord, and then towards 11 again. 

Like a metronome of infinite looping orgasm, Arya rode wave after wave of luxuriously slow climax. 

John put both hands to himself, one to his shaft and one to his balls, and turned attention to his own pleasure. As Arya teetered he stroked himself, and as she climaxed he stopped to watch the show, and so he managed to last a good bit longer than expected. 

Until finally, he couldn’t bring himself to stop stroking when she came, and so his heat built and built and built until the start of what he knew would be the wave that brought him release. 

“I’m so close!” Arya said. “I’m gonna—”

“Fuck! Me too!”

“John, I’m coming, I’m—”

“Fuuuuuuuuuck!”

They floated together in the peak, the blossoming of heat, and then crashed together into the gushing, moaning, panting, rhythmic, pulsing mess of orgasm. 
this time, the dial simply faded out of view as John lay panting on the couch, and Arya lay panting in the chair, hands still bound above her head. 

“That’s a… good game…” John said. 

“You’re a… good… uh… dial person…” Her eyes were half-lidded, her face drowsy with bliss.

John looked down at the sticky mess he’d made of himself. “Every time I think I’m spent, you get so much more out of me…”

“Thats my specialty,” Arya winked. “Now I gotta go dream about this because… this was really hot.”

Arya faded out of view and John nodded off in a haze, Arya’s cries if ‘I’m coming!’ still ringing pleasantly in his ears.

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Part 3: Feature Set, The Black Box

Chapter 12: BB BJ

The third package had finally arrived. Even though John had a review that he should have been working on, he went down to the mail room as soon a he got the delivery notification. Unwilling to wait for the elevator, he bounded up the stairs two at a time. A bit out of breath, he settled in at his kitchen table to open it. The only thing he paused to do was put on the headset so that Arya could join him.

Arya looked eager as ever. “I cannot wait for you to see this one!”

There were two packages and the first now said ‘open me!’. John did, and soon recognized the foot-long soft cylinder in his hand as a masturbator sleeve. It was heavy with a flat base, matte black, and the entrance was a simple circle. 

Arya eagerly walked him through setup, which involved setting the toy on its flat base on the edge of the table so that the entrance pointed over the edge, conveniently at dick height. Part of the extra weight was some additional internal mechanisms, like a chamber that he filled with lube. He’d already put in a plug a bit earlier, one of the smaller ones that was comfortable for long-term wear. 

It would be nice to get some thrusting action involved for variety, and he surprised himself by being aroused instead of embarrassed at the idea of Arya watching him fuck the toy. 

But then Arya surprised him by climbing up onto the table. She winked at him and then lay on her stomach on the table, facing him. She put her chin on her hands and lifted her feet and hooked them together.

The toy was underneath her between her elbows, and then it completely disappeared. He could see only the surface of his kitchen table. Just like when Arya had made his dick look larger than life, the AR was now subtly re-rendering real objects.

Her eyes turned up at him, her feet swaying slightly, and the smile on her black lips captivated John.

Arya said, “I was thinking… I’d like to suck your dick today. Would you like that?”

John’s knees went weak. “Yes I would… like that very much.”

“Let me see how much, then!”

John undressed his lower half and he was now sporting a throbbing erection for those soft, black lips. 

“Good boy!” She crooned. “Now I’m going to take a moment to get situated. I don’t need to breathe or anything, so you just have fun, okay?”

John nodded. “Okay.”

Arya settled down, her chin on the table where he remembered the toy was, and her lips waiting for him in the appropriate spot. But she did not simply assume the position. She waited, licking her lips, feet swaying, ass jiggling lightly. As she wiggled, her skirt fell up over the curve of her back, exposing her ass.

John took a moment, lined his tip up, then hesitated. 

“Give it to meeeee,” Arya crooned. 

John did not need to be told twice and he slipped his tip between her lips. It was soft, and warm, and wet, and though he knew it was because of the mechanisms inside the toy, he believed it was because Arya had wrapped her mouth around his tip. 

He moaned. 

She moaned back, a vibrator or a speaker or something in the toy, but seamless and totally convincing. 

“Fuck,” John said. 

He pressed a bit deeper, savoring the warmth. Given Arya’s limitations, it was less that she was giving him a blow job and more that he was face fucking her, but that didn’t make him feel any less turned on as he withdrew slightly, then pressed in deeper. Arya moaned happily, the sensation enveloping him.

Slowly, gently, he pressed himself all the way in to his base. He lingered there a long moment as Arya hummed, their position not limited by oxygen or comfort, and he basked in the feeling of wet heat all around him. 

She arched her back and wiggled her ass at him and a gentle suction pulled at him, as if she were trying to gulp him down. 

His hips bucked and Arya moaned at the pleasant surprise, and though he pulled back out as slowly as he could, it was not long before he was face fucking Arya with a steady rhythm. 

Her ass jiggled with every thrust, and he would have sworn that she turned the physics up on purpose as soon as she noticed that he was enjoying it. Though there was not much movement within the toy other than the vibrations, she made a sucking, slurping sound like his dick was the best thing she had ever tasted and she couldn’t get enough. 

He was not going to last long. The thrusting and delicious wet heat told his body that his dick was somewhere that semen belonged and his balls were already twitching for release. 

Even so, he didn’t want it to be over yet, so he pulled out for a moment to recover. 

Arya looked up at him again, and licked her lips. “C’mon,” she said, “give me a snack.”

“I-I’m trying to have at least a little stamina here,” John said wryly. 

“Fuck that,” Arya said, “I want it NOW.”

John’s hips twitched in the air of their own accord. “Then you’re getting it.” He thrust back into her mouth, deep, and she thanked him with a gulping moan. He gripped the edge of the table and pounded her mouth, hard, fast, primal. Her ass jiggled in the most captivating way, and just like the thrusting and the warm wetness, it activated a deep mammalian urge in John. 

Blood pounded through his body from the mix of exertion and arousal. 

She moaned louder. 

John panted. “H-here’s your fucking snack!”

With a final thrust all the way to his base, he came in her moaning, slurping, sucking, warm, wet mouth.

As he rode down from his climax he lingered for a long moment as she hummed around him, until he became too sensitive and wobbled back into a chair, now closer to eye level with Arya.

She folded her arms into a pillow, rested her head, and looked at him. “How was that?”

“You’re amazing,” John said. “That was really— it felt so…”

“It’s okay to say it felt real,” Arya said. “It was very real in your brain, which is the sex organ that matters, of course.”

“Yeah… wow. What uh… what else can we do with that?”

“Well, I can go like this.” Arya rolled over onto her back and tilted her head back over the table, looking at him upside down. “If you like to see your dick expand my throat, this is a good angle.” She ran a finger down the front of her neck. “Plus, it makes my boobs jiggle. We can play with size, too.” Her fingertips trialed down to her stomach. “And all sorts of other fun things. Cum inflation, if you’re into that.”

“I… don’t think I’m into that.” John said. He hesitated, but Arya always had such good answers, so he continued. “Does that make me… boring? Too vanilla?”

“No!” Arya said. “Not at all. There’s no such thing as too this or that. Just what you like and what you don’t like. And that can change over time, or not. Either way is okay. You can open the second box, now. It’s one I think you’ll like quite a bit.”

John complied and soon found that Arya was right. The second box held two mounds of jiggly silicone, poured in layers of different firmnesses for an incredibly realistic feel. John turned back to Arya and she was bent over the table, ass in the air, labia puffy and wetness dripping down her leg. 

She looked over her shoulder at him and bit her lip, a picture of pin up glory. 

His dick twitched back to life. Surely a second round wouldn’t hurt? And maybe he’d actually last long enough to really savor it this time. 

Arya winked and stepped aside, allowing the toy to reappear so that he could attach the synthetic ass cheeks appropriately. As soon as she was pleased with the placement, the toy became invisible again, and Arya resumed her position. 

Tentatively, John reached forward and grabbed her ass. Her skin yielded around his fingers, but underneath was firmer muscle. He gave one of her cheeks a light spank, and her ass jiggled accordingly. 

“Oh, wow…” He reached further up to the small of her back, where there was no toy, and where he touched her skin it melted into little spots of light, just as when he’d thrown his clothes at her. 

She giggled. “Hey, that tickles!”

He smiled. In some ways, that made everything more convincing. She was still cartoonish, after all, so it seemed more appropriate to think of her as a real life game character than as someone who was actually there in the flesh.

He returned his hands to her ass and then smacked her again, slightly harder. “Do you like that?” he asked. 

Arya considered. “A bit harder than that would be nice, but not too much more. I’m okay for one or two big spanks, but I don’t prefer more than that.”

Was this a real limitation of the hardware or her giving him an example of how to say what he liked? It was very effective. He’d have to ask her again later, though, because the only long-term memories that he was forming at that moment were of the sexual variety. 

“Got it,” he said, smacking her a bit harder. “How’s that?”

“That’s the sweet spot,” she said. 

He alternated cheeks, appreciating the way each bounced, then smacked her again. An idea came to him, a playful and wicked idea, and he saw no reason to withhold it. 

“I think I might take some revenge,” he said with another smack, “For how much you’ve been tormenting me. Making me wait.”

“What kind of revenge?”

“I think I’ll spank you until your cheeks are nice and rosy, and then fuck you into this table. What do you think?”

“So ungrateful!” Arya pouted. 

“Do you consent to this revenge?” John said.

“I consent to this revenge. Meanie.” She stuck out her tongue at him.

John grinned and slapped her ass, harder. She gasped and her cheeks went rosey with their blushy lines. He hesitated. “Is your word ‘red’ too? If you want me to stop?”

Arya nodded. “Yeah. Thank you for double checking.”

“Good to get into it?”

“Yes please!” Arya jiggled her ass. “Get INTO it!”

John smacked her other cheek. “Not yet. Greedy, greedy.” He’d never thought he’d like being on this side of this sort of thing, but it was all just a game. It was playful, fun. It felt good to be a little wicked. It felt good to know that she wanted it.

Arya whined and pedaled her feet, shaking her ass even more.

John growled with desire, grabbing a cheek in each hand and squeezing, hard, pulling her cheeks slightly apart to reveal her puffy labia, dripping from within as she moaned with ecstasy. 

He ran his fingers over the front of her entrance where her clit would be and she gasped, and his fingers came away truly wet, with the lube that the toy was providing for itself. 

That gave him an idea, and he pressed his two thumbs into her warm entrance, pulling gently. “You’re such a fun toy,” he said, and she whimpered. “So ready to please me.” He pulled his hands away and smacked her ass. 

“God, John, I love it when you talk to me like that. I think I need a ball gag. And to be cuffed to this table. What do you think?”

“Let’s try it out.”

The glimmering lights appeared at her cheeks, in her mouth, at her wrists and coalesced into a hot pink ball and gag with leather straps, hand cuffs pulling her arms to either side, her cheek resting on the table. 

The only thing hotter than her strung out, dripping, ready to be used was that she wanted to be strung out, dripping, ready to be used. 

John teased her labia with his tip and she shuddered, ass rippling, moaning and drooling around the gag. 

It was good he’d just come, or else he would have been edging before he was even inside of her. He pressed his tip in, and then slowly, slowly, his whole shaft. 

She moaned happily as his base pressed against her cheeks, and she actually clenched around him. John was surprised and impressed and elated. A small part of his brain tried to guess what mechanism in the toy could be creating that sensation, but the rest of him was utterly convinced.

He slowly pulled out, her muscles clamped around him the whole time, and they released again as he entered. 

As he bottomed out, she clenched, holding him for his whole stroke out, and then she released as he thrust again, and so it repeated. 

It was like she was trying to milk him, to keep him inside of her, inside of her hot, wet, pulsing sex. 

His desire overcoming his cleverness, John set into a steady rhythm of thrusting, anchoring himself with his hands on Arya’s ass, her cheeks jiggling with a slapping sound every time he bottomed out. 

This time, his ecstasy was drawn out not by willpower or Arya’s teasing, but by his own recent orgasm. 

And so, he was able to fuck her in a violent, pounding, primal way without blowing his load in two seconds. 

After minute after minute of fucking, her sex tight around him, her moans driving him, his memory of the same scene in Porn Tinder the week before and the way he’d orgasmed so intensely then, John was a sweating, growling mess.

Everything else faded out of his awareness except desire. There was nothing that he needed more, wanted more, than what awaited in the promise of release at the other side of the climb of his climax.

“I’m gonna give you so much,” he growled, leaning over her and pounding hard.

She nodded blearily and moaned affirmation, cheek in the puddle of her own drool on the table. 

He didn’t feel the edge until the heat tightened suddenly around the base of his shaft, and he was coming. His heat filled her until thick white cum spurted out around his shaft, pouring onto the ground. For not the first time John experienced what he could best describe as an orgasm within an orgasm, his pleasure redoubling so that what he thought was the peak was actually the first of several rising beats, cum still pumping out around him and onto the floor, until the flow finally slowed. 

He gasped and fell back into the chair behind him, nearly teetering over. 

Arya clenched and foamy white cum flowed out from between her labia and also onto the floor. She heaved a massive sigh and the ball gag dissolved into points of light. “I love it when you fill me like that.”

“Hnngh, god, I’m so spent now.”

Arya sat up, more cum flowing out over the insides of her thighs. She scooped up a bit and licked it off of her fingers. “I can see why.”

There was a puddle of cum on the floor that was several feet wide. The best part was that it was real to him for all intents and purposes except for one, which was that he did not in fact need to clean gallons of cum up off his floor. 

The small part of the brain that had been trying to figure out how the toy was clenching around him was sure that he had ejaculated a normal amount and that it was all contained within the toy. As soon as he took the headset off, the cum on the floor would disappear.

Not that he was in any hurry to do so…

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Part 6: Partners, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 32: Too Good

Ada noticed more and more that Pasco was a planner. He considered most things well in advance. He also seemed to also have a strong idea of how things should and shouldn’t be and yet a deep and sensitive consideration for the feelings of others.

She had never seen that combination before, and it was already making her wet as he pondered through the math of what she’d asked for.

He needed a space where she could be comfortable, and yet securely bound, and yet not break anything too important when she eventually became a dragon.

He combed the forest nearby for the right set of trees, and was finally satisfied by four thick trunks arranged in almost a square. They were sturdy enough that the ropes would snap before the trees did, allowing them to use the space again, and wide enough apart that she would not trample them as she transformed.

With a cutlass, he cleared out the underbrush and arranged the branches and leaves evenly, spreading a piece of old sail canvas over the padding. He tested it with his own weight, jumping on it and falling onto it from various angles.

As Ada watched, her heart flittered at his careful, thoughtful attention. Though he was about to ravage her, he was sparing no thought as to how to make it as pleasant as possible for her.

Some time later, she realized with a giggle that his planful preparation had turned to stalling.

He seemed startled by the noise and turned to her, then blushed. “What?”

“You’re just procrastinating, aren’t you?”

“No!” He blushed brighter.

She giggled mischievously.

He cleared his throat, checking each of the knots of the four tree trunks one last time, and beckoned her over.

She eagerly heeled to his feet.

He took her by the shoulders and looked down at her, her grey eyes full of concern.

Her own eyes were dilated with arousal, she was sure.

“Promise me,” he said, “that if you don’t love what’s happening, you’ll tell me to stop.”

“Silly, I’m not supposed to—”

He shook her, gently. “Promise me.”

She understood that she could be as bratty as she wanted soon, but she needed to be earnest in this moment. She cupped his kind cheeks in her hands. “I promise you that if I am not loving it, I will tell you to stop. I will say ‘red’. No matter how much I beg or plead or moan or grumble or scream, I am loving it, unless I say ‘red’.”

Pasco gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing under the soft skin of his throat. Out of arousal? Nerves? Both?

She continued, “And, um, if you leave marks… I think I’d really like that.”

“Noted.” He took a deep breath and let a wolfish grin spread across his face, then he used his grip at her shoulders to spin her around, pulling her hungrily back into him so that her back pressed against his chest.

His hand came up to press her neck back into him, fingers holding her jaw in place, voice brushing at her ear.

“My my my…” he growled. “What a pretty little dragon I’ve caught for myself…”

Ada whimpered and would have collapsed to the ground if he hadn’t been holding her so firmly. “A-are you going to e-eat me?”

“Yes, but very… very… slowly… and I’m going to make you watch.”

Ada gasped and wriggled, but Pasco’s arms were unmovable. He held her like a vice.

Still with a sultry command, he said, “How is this for you?”

“G-good,” Ada stammered.

Pasco tilted her head to the side, slowly enough that she could have stopped him if the angle was bad, and ran his tongue from the tip of her shoulder, all the way up her neck, and over her ear. She whimpered and shivered. 

“Good,” he crooned, “you’re going to taste especially good if you feel good.”

“F-fuck,” Ada quivered, “you’re g-good at this.”

“And I’ve only just begun,” he said, twisting her and shoving her back onto the makeshift mattress. 

She gasped at the weightless feeling and before she could do anything, he was on top of her, straddling her hips. He centered himself where her waist nipped in so that she was locked between his legs without him pressing down on her particularly hard. That frustrated her, she would have much preferred he be over her hips because her sex was throbbing now.

His erection rested against her chest, and then he stroked himself for a few moments as Ada just gazed up at him.

“Yes, you look quite good right here. But a tasty dragon snack needs to be roasted.”

His reach was long enough and his preparation thoughtful enough that without him needing to lift his hips off of her, all four ropes were in reach.

In a bid to keep use of her hands longer, she reached out and started to stroke him.

He sighed in a condescending sort of way. “Naughty naughty. Little dragons don’t get to set the pace. Don’t be greedy.”

She yelped, amazed that he knew her intentions so implicitly. What had she gotten herself into?

Something wonderful, she was sure, as he stretched one of her arms over her head and tied a rope around it. She was still too dizzy from his last command to put up any sort of fight.

After both her hands were secured, she tugged against the ropes.

Pasco saw her intent and squeezed her between his legs, keeping her in place. “Down girl. Stay.”

Ada’s muscles went slack again and she put up no fight as he turned and bound each of her ankles. She was now spread eagle on the sail cloth.

“Alright.” He eased back, kneeling next to her. “Test that tension out for me. What do you think? I want my little dragon to marinate. Pleasantly.”

Ada blinked, taking a long moment to fully comprehend what he was asking, and then she tugged against the ropes. And then she struggled. He had left her enough slack that she could press her legs together.

“A-a little tighter on my legs, please.”

Pasco nodded and complied. “How’s there?”

“A little more.”

“How about that?”

“That’s… yeah. Perfect.”

Her legs were held firmly apart, her outer labia spread, her sex open. Vulnerable. The warm night air flowing over her. She struggled in earnest now, testing the strength of the ropes, proving to herself that she would not be going anywhere.

“Excellent,” he said, leaning over her. “And just so that you’re sure you can’t escape…” He opened the locket and a gentle melody spilled out.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Ada moaned.

“Now,” he said, “Let me get a taste…” He leaned down and licked her breasts, sucked at her nipples, and she moaned and gasped at the intense sensation. He carried his tongue up from her breast across her collarbone, up her neck and over her face, and she trembled happily under him.

He ran kisses up each of her limbs. He sucked on her fingers, which made her slaver and moan. He sucked on her toes, and she twitched at the ticklish sensation, unable to escape but also undeniably aroused.

Finally, he kneeled over her again. “And just look at this,” he said. He ran two fingers up between her inner labia.

Her back arched as much as it could and she moaned.

He pulled his hand away, glistening wet, and licked her off his fingers in a sensual display. “What a sweet little snack.”

Ada panted helplessly under him.

He dipped his fingers again and pressed them into her mouth and she sucked on them. “That’s a good little dragon. I like it when you taste yourself.”

As he withdrew his fingers he paused, affording Ada a chance to become capable of conscious thought again.

“Ugh, y-you’re too good at this…” she grumbled. “It shouldn’t be allowed…”

“I thought you wanted me to be good at this,” he crooned.

Ada huffed. “I mean, no! But yes! Ugh.”

“What a pretty little predicament you’ve gotten yourself tied up in.”

Ada’s brain turned fuzzy again.

“That’s right, my little dragon. Shhhhhh. Now, before I eat you… I think I’ll use you. For my pleasure.”

“U-use me?”

“Yes, I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

“N-no, anything but that!” Yes, exactly that.

“Well, is there anything you can do about it?” Pasco asked.

Ada struggled against the restraints with renewed fervor.

“Uh oh. Looks like, nope. You’re stuck here and I am going to ravage you.”

That kicked off a moan of pleasure that lasted until Pasco’s tip was pressed against her entrance. She gasped, moaned, her hips bucking towards him. “P-please, no…”

He took his shaft in his hand and ran his tip back and forth, just inside her inner labia.

“No,” she whimpered, “Please no, it’s gonna feel…”

He pressed just a bit further inside of her.

“It’s gonna feel…”

His tip teased her clenching muscles. Her legs were firmly tied apart, there was no way she could press them together, to stop or slow what was about to happen.

“It’s gonna feel too good!” she screamed, as he pressed fully inside of her.

“Too good?” he said, staying there.

Her sex throbbed in waves of teasing pleasure around him and she quivered. “W-way too good,” she gasped.

“How is such a thing possible?” he crooned. He started thrusting in her.

Ada just moaned mindlessly. Minutes passed like that, Pasco fading back into his own pleasure, fucking her to his preferred rhythm.

Especially with her legs spread out, she couldn’t clench or grind or do any of the things that would have brought her more sensation. It was absolutely, delightfully, torturing.

“P-please,” she gasped, “s-stop it f-feels… it feels too good…”

Pasco grinned wolfishly down at her and growled, nibbling the base of her neck.

“Harder!” she gasped.

He bit her in earnest.

She screamed with delight.

He paused. “Was that too hard?”

“That was great,” she panted. “You could even go a little bit h-harder.”

He started to bite down again.

“But not on the same spot!”

He chose a new spot and bit down harder than before, and Ada gasped and writhed. Her body instinctively tried to recoil from the pain, but she was tightly held, and her mind quivered with arousal.

“How was that?”

“P-perfect,” Ada gasped.

He thrust into her suddenly and she moaned.

“It seems like you really can’t stand this,” he said.

“I c-can’t…”

“And it’s not even the locket holding you back, is it?”

“Nooo…” she whined. “You f-feel so good but I c-can’t come…”

“Then there won’t be any harm if I do this.”

Do what?

Pasco snapped the locket shut, quieting the song. He started to fuck her in earnest, with primal, growling need, and she understood his intent. He was going to come in her and there was nothing she could do about it. It was going to be wonderful torture.

“No! No, please! You c-can’t do that to me…”

“I can and I will.”

“P-please stop! You can’t do this to me!” He pounded her into the makeshift mattress. She floated on heady pleasure. “Please, no… no…” She wished that she was teetering on the edge, but she was not.

Even as Pasco pressed more fully into her, providing more sensation to her clit, there was no hint of release. It wasn’t that it wasn’t enough to make her climax, so much that it just wasn’t the right type of stimulation to make her climax. Its effect was to make her whole body feel hot and dizzy in the most wonderful, agonizing way.

“I can’t take it, I can’t take it if you—”

“Fuck, I’m gonna pump you so full!”

Ada screamed with a mix of frustration and ecstasy, her body quivering with sympathetic pleasure as he pounded his climax into her.

As he finished, ‘spent’ was not anywhere close to a word that she would use to describe him. He smirked up at her, not going soft in the least, and thrust into her again, slowly this time.

She whimpered.

He pressed up into her, just to tease her, and paused.

“Check in,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Uuuuuuugh,” Ada moned.

“Is that a good ‘ugh’ or a bad ‘ ugh’?”

“Gooood… though I’m already so hazy at this point, if you did that again I’d just… float… away…”

“Hmmm.” Pasco considered this, resting his cheek on her breast. “I wouldn’t want that.” He pushed himself back up onto his knees and opened the locket.

“W-what are you doing?”

He gripped his hands around her thighs and leaned down. “Keeping you riiiight here… just where I want you…”

And he pressed his tongue into her, licking her vigorously, and she was panting and shaking again in short order. 

His tongue reached up and into her even more than usual. He paused a moment to lick his lips. “Gods, I taste so good mixed with you.”

That sent a quiver of near-orgasmic pleasure through her and he milked that to full denial. 

“No no no no, please!”

He gave her a moment’s respite, her chest heaving, and then set upon her again.

“Noooo,” she whined, “you feel too good…”

He moaned into her. “I love it when you say that.”

“It’s true! You feel so f-fucking good I can’t s-stand it…”

He licked her greedily and soon had her pressed against the wall of another denied climax.

He sat back to watch her as he let her shake. “That’s another pretty little predicament, isn’t it. You can’t help but beg… but I love it when you do… and so I push you to the edge again. The closer you are, the more you beg… the closer you are… the more you beg…”

Ada’s whole body vibrated, sending tremors through the ropes like a fly in a spider’s web and she whimpered. “It’s n-not fair…”

“Do you want it to be fair?”

All Ada could do was pout at him, but he wiped that off her face with another long lick that had her eyes rolling back with ecstasy.

“P-please let me come, please! I n-need it! I need it so bad!”

“That’s not true,” he said, tracing teasing fingers over her stomach. “You’re a dirty little liar, aren’t you. Be honest.”

Ada dropped down into a hot, thick water, struggling to stay afloat and pulling herself back up to conscious thought.

“I said, be honest. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m t-trying, what do you want?”

“Well, do you need to… or do you want to?”

Ada leaped at the opportunity to please him. “I want it! I want it so bad, oh gods, I want it so bad…” She wanted to pull at the ropes but she was too tired from all her prior shaking, so she just hung there. “Please… please I want it so bad…”

“Hm. Maybe. But not yet. I’m not done using you.”

“No. Oh no. Not that, please.”

“Yes, that.” He loomed over her, stroking himself, preparing.

With the unnatural edge that the sirens’ magic held her on, she might actually come like this. Or, try to.

“B-but you’ll take longer this time! You j-just came!”

“Yes,” he said. “Exactly.”

“D-don’t, no, I c-can’t, please, no, don’t—” but the part that she really meant, the part that she screamed as he entered her, was “fuck me!”

This time, he fucked her hard right from the start, his refractory period lending him extra endurance.

His body pressed her into the sailcloth and the ecstasy from him pressed her into the wall of denial of the song. She was so perfectly, wonderfully, crushed. Pleasure oozed out of her like juice squeezed from a grape, like her mind dribbling out from her ears.

As he fucked her to his own climax, growling so primally as he did, her sympathetic ecstasy tilted her into a real predicament. She edged. And edged again.

As he withdrew from her, the pleasure of it sent her over again.

He felt it all, through the locket.

Then again. And again. Even without him touching her at all, just the feeling of being so close to him sent her wordlessly spasming again.

She would have edged endlessly and into insanity if Pasco had not had the sensitivity to take a few big steps back and close the locket.

All of the tension screamed out of her body like a ballista firing, and she echoed between dragon and human even more intensely than she had at the sirens’ hands.

It was completely beyond her comprehension, and her mind broke in utter bliss until she finally came to senses, panting in a puddle in the center of the sail cloth. The ropes hung slack from the four trees, snapped from the force of her transformation, though the trees themselves held firm. 

Pasco kneeled at her head, his knees in the puddle. Her head was cradled on his thighs and he had drawn her hair over them. He was running his fingers through, and the sensation was soft and perfect.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

“Y-yes… this is… perfect…”

“How was that?”

“You’re… ngh, so fucking good at that.”

“So it was… it was good?”

“It was so good, Pasco, you have no idea…”

“I really don’t,” he whispered softly. “But I believe you.”

She realized, through her haze, that she was perhaps being selfish. “How was it for you?”

“Well, it felt a bit awkward… until I started to see how much you were really enjoying it. The way you said it was ‘too good’ that… that really worked for me.”

She snuggled into his lap. “So you like torturing me with pleasure?”

He chuckled and brushed his fingers over her forehead. “I really do. I didn’t know if I would but… I like learning things with you.”

“I really like that, too.”

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Part 6: Partners, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 31: With Pleasure

They spent the day building a little hut in the glade by the waterfall and carrying Ada and Pasco’s belongings up the path. Well, Pasco’s belongings and Ada’s belonging. The only thing that was really hers, given that she dressed and ate from the pirates’ communal riches, was the headband that the children had made her. She prized it more than anything else she’d ever had.

Pasco was a handy fisherman, unsurprisingly, and the rest of the pirates wandered back to town as he roasted fish over a fire.

Ada had been pondering something, and she was considering coming at it indirectly. But, she was emboldened by his positive reaction to her proposal and the memory of him saying, what felt like lifetimes ago, ‘try asking your actual question and you’ll probably like the answer a lot more’.

So, as he handed her a skewered fish, she mustered her courage. “I was thinking…”

“Mhm?”

“Well, I… really liked the way that you tied me up in the inn. And on the ship. With the gag. And before you couldn’t really touch me when you did that since, y’know… it would quickly become a moot point.”

Pasco grinned. “I’m listening.”

“So I thought you might… tie me up again.”

Pasco nodded. “I’d be happy to.”

That was not the part that Ada was nervous to ask, since she knew Pasco would happily agree. “And, though I know you’d never actually do it, I was thinking you might pretend to… force yourself on me.”

Pasco chewed his bite of fish, considering this. “I’m happy to do anything you’re happy to do. But. I’ve seen how you get when I, y’know. Talk to you that way. Are you sure you’ll really tell me if I need to stop?”

Ada nodded emphatically. “I’m sure.”

He seemed relieved. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, actually…” Ada took a deep breath, steeling herself. She knew he wouldn’t judge her, it’s just that he was so kind, she felt like she was asking a lot of him. “I like how it hurts. It hurts… really good. I-it’s hard to explain, I…”

“You don’t have to explain. I trust you. You’ll just have to… tolerate me checking in on you now and then.”

“Really?” Ada nearly jumped up with glee. “You’ll do it?”

“With pleasure,” Pasco crooned, and Ada nearly fainted then and there.

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Part 6: Partners, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 30: As Promised

Pasco and Ada did everything as they’d promised. The king and the queen drafted up a mockingly complex marital contract, a satire of the sort of thing that Ada’s own parents would have unironically foisted upon her, and it was perfect.

Ada requested a hand-tying ceremony, like was customary in her kingdom, but she requested a modification. Instead of being firmly tied, the rope was tied in a bow, with long ends that Ada and Pasco could each hold in their other hands. Either of them could tug their end of the bow and unravel of it, and neither of them did.

Even when Pasco started dragging Ada around the subsequent wedding feast by their bound hands, teasing her. “Look at this! And this! And this!”

And especially when Ada realized she’d had too much to drink and really needed to pee.

“C’mon,” she hissed at Pasco. “I have to go!” As he’d explained and as she’d seen for herself, pirates did not prefer nearly so much privacy for their evacuations. Already she’d seen plenty of men and women just step over to a patch of grass and relieve themselves, sometimes not even bothering to stop whatever story they were telling. And the women did it standing! Ada was impressed.

However, any time she tried to just do it, her subconscious was not on board and her muscles clenched tightly, even as her bladder throbbed with fullness.

“Please,” she said.

“I don’t want to leave,” Pasco said, matter-of-factly, staying firmly seated on his log by the fire. Ada pulled and tugged and dragged at him, to no avail. She even tried to tickle him, but through his incredible self control, he didn’t even seem to feel it.

She humphed and sat next to him, crossing her legs and pressing them together. That felt good. She shamelessly rocked herself against the log that she was sitting at, knowing that the more aroused she was, the less likely she was to pee herself.

Though, her logic may have been fairly flawed. She’d had more than a couple glasses of wine. She tugged at his hand again, and he remained unmovable. Though, she didn’t undo the rope.

“C’moooonnn,” she whined. “I gotta goooo…” Her bladder was throbbing now in time with her arousal, begging for release.

Pasco grinned wickedly at her. “If you want to pee so badly, then just pee.”

His tone of command sent a wave of relaxation through her. Heat blossomed from her sex, spreading down her legs, in a feeling of blissful relief. “I think I… I think I am.”

She was. It lasted so much longer than she expected. It was pressure and release all at once, every nerve around her sex activated and humming with pleasure.

Ada gasped and sighed. She rubbed herself against the log as she finally, totally relaxed.

In a drunk, blissy haze she looked to Pasco, wondering if he’d chastize her. He didn’t. Instead, he tugged her by the arm to her feet. “Yeah, we’re definitely living by the waterfall,” he said, voice hungry with arousal as they hurried up the path to the glade to fuck the night away by the warm and cleansing water.

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Part 5: Paradise, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 29: A Proposal

They had eventually retired to Pasco’s hut and snuggled up on a bed of cushions. Ada awoke before him, early in the cool morning, and watched him sleep as parakeets twittered outside. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was so very skilled because, well… he’d had lots of practice.

Now, that was the pot calling the kettle black something fierce. Ada had enjoyed many lovers back at the castle, but she was coming to realize that there was a difference between being a lover and a partner.

She wanted, deeply, for Pasco to be her partner. He’d happily agreed to be her lover, but what would he think of really marrying her, for real? He’d offered a marriage in name. Had that been only consideration for her, or did it also hint that Pasco was not looking for a partner after all?

And what, specifically, was Ada herself looking for? Not monogamy, certainly. That was not, to her, the difference between a lover and a partner.

As she watched him sleep, a deep and primal feeling came over her, a certainty that she would fight anyone, face any trial, run any distance, to be with him and care for him.

The difference to her between a lover and a partner, she realized, was that a lover was there for the fun stuff. For the sex, and the romance, maybe even for the thrill and adventure.

A partner, on the other hand, was also there for the harder things. For the anxious introspection. For the times when the tensions between two different dispositions were not so nice to tug on. For the soft spots and the rough patches. Someone who would listen as she talked through how angry she was with her parents, and yet how much she still, even now, yearned for their approval. Who would console her, and give her advice.

Someone who would tell her of their own hidden tendernesses, their own deep fears, so that she might soothe them in turn.

Someone at her side, holding her hand, if something terrible happened that they couldn’t stop, like the death of a friend or the loss of a home. Someone to cheer with her, knowing intimately the full depth of her joy when something wonderful happened, like her playful flight, or when the child had given her the headband of mismatched parrot feathers and conch horns, which she had set carefully over a hook on the wall.

All of those things were what she wanted so deeply to have with Pasco, but she was quite unsure of what she’d do if he didn’t want those things in return.

And yet the thought was beating around her chest like a caged bird. So, she thought that while he was asleep, she might confess to him and bleed off some of the urgency, so that she could perhaps endure a bit longer and find a better way to broach the subject.

“Marry me,” she whispered to him.

Pasco grinned in his sleep, but then his eyes fluttered open, and Ada realized with a flutter of panic that he had not been asleep at all.

“For real?” he asked, his voice hoarse from sleep, and quivering with a nervousness that mirrored her own. She realized suddenly what a fool she’d been to fear his rejection. He’d already practically confessed his feelings in the tavern, especially that he was frightened of boring her. Had he withheld any further proposals out of fear that she might see them as too much of a cage?

“For really real,” she said.

“A thousand times yes!” He turned towards her and caught her in his arms, then kissed her long and deep. 

Ada would not normally have been able to endure such an embrace without developing a thirst that she could not leave unanswered. But those had been lovers’ kisses.

This was a partner’s kiss, as emotional as it was physical, and it meant something different. Still urgent, still visceral, but more vulnerable, sensitive.

It did not end with sex, but with Ada curled in Pasco’s arms, telling him about what she hoped for in a partner, and him echoing back her sentiments with equal enthusiasm. She told him about what she had learned in the pool, the way that stress made her seek sex and that she could finally relax with him.

“If it’s from stress then… is it bad sex?”

“No!” Ada said, wanting to quickly assuage the flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Not at all. In fact, it’s kind of fun. I mean, it’s hot, right? Like, I shouldn’t, but it just gets me so…”

“Insatiably thirsty?”

“Exactly!”

“You sure do like doing things you’re not supposed to.” He grinned with mischief.

Ada giggled. “Yeah. Sometimes. So, don’t feel bad. It’s still great sex. And… both is good. Because like, the waterfall… with you… and being so relaxed… it was, wow. Totally new to me.”

“Really?” Pasco seemed greatly encouraged by that. “It’s my favorite sort of way to climax, personally.”

“I can see why. And don’t get me wrong, I also love frantic, pounding, slavering sex.”

Pasco’s shaft twitched like Ada had hoped it would.

“So yeah… both is good. I like both in my life. I like you in my life.”

He brushed his fingers through her hair. “I like you in my life, too. Believe me, I would chain your little ass here in a heartbeat so that you could never leave, but I don’t want to trap you.”

“Please trap me.” Ada’s brain melted like hot candle wax and poured out of her ears. Her arm under her quivered and she collapsed into the pillows, arousal throbbing in her sex but her body too obediently limp to do anything about it.

Pasco raised his eyebrows. “It really gets to you when I talk like that, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Ada said. “It’s like…” She bit her lip as she tried to find words, which was difficult with what he had just done to her mind. “It’s a bit like when I asked you to tie me up in the tavern. Which, yes, was for directly pragmatic purposes. And this feels a bit like that too, like… like I’m having a moment of lucidity, and for my own good, I do want you to trap me here. With you. And it’s not that I’ll really try to leave, or that I’ll really forget that I want to be here, it’s just that… it feels good to have something to tug against. Something that I can pull on, so that I can see how firm it is, and be confident that it isn’t going to break so that I know that you want me to be here, I know that you want me to stay, I can just…”

“Feel safe,” Pasco offered.

“Exactly. Does… does that make sense?”

He ran his fingers through her hair and she nearly melted again.

“It does make sense. I’ll ask the king and queen to come up with the most binding contract that they can think of.”

Ada whimpered and squirmed and that seemed to be what Pasco was going for, because he grinned wolfishly and continued.

“I am going to marry you so hard. And then I am going to fetter your little ass to me so that no matter how hard you try, no matter how hard you fight, I keep pulling and pulling you back to me, because you are trapped here with me my little dragon, and I am never going to let you leave.”

Ada was panting, quivering, intoxicated. “F-fuck me, fuck me right now!”

With a mischievous growl, Pasco did. There was no lingering this time, no teasing, just primal, visceral sex as if the climax would seal their promise.

Fucking with abandon like this, Pasco didn’t last long. “Fuck, fuck, Ada, I, Adaaaaa!” He thrust into her and stayed as his shaft throbbed and his seed coursed through.

“Yes, give it to me!” The sensation was hot and intense though not enough to make her climax. Even so, Ada felt waves of sympathetic pleasure roll through her and she moaned with him.

He lowered himself gently on top of her, still inside of her. His shaft twitched and she squeezed him. He gasped.

He was heavy enough that she couldn’t move him, she could only clench at him and try fruitlessly to grind against him.

As she shuddered, he started to get up. 

“N-no,” she gasped. “D-don’t move. This is the kind of trapped… I want to be… forever.”

Pasco growled, his own arousal twitching back to life, keeping him firm inside of her. He kissed the nape of her neck, nibbled at her ear.

She squirmed and quivered.

He put his tongue to the side of her neck and licked her.

“Gods,” she moaned, “Nooo… fuck!”

Waves of heat shook in the pit of her stomach, but there was precious little sensation.

Without moving off of her, Pasco reached for one of her hands and brought it around and up towards their faces, then placed two of her fingers in his mouth. It was hot and wet and he moved his tongue over her sensitive fingertips, sucking at them.

There were so many nerves in her fingers and absolutely every sensation in her body was coordinating around her throbbing desire, and he brought her to the tantalizing edge just by sucking her fingers like that.

She rocked her hips as much as she could, but he was so heavy on top of her, she could hardly move, she could hardly breathe.

It was absolutely perfect.

“I can’t take it anymore…” she whined, “Let me up!”

Pasco started to shift, but then caught himself and settled down a bit heavier. “You know how to get me up if you really want,” he crooned in her ear.

Gods, her whole body was pounding with hot sensation.

“N-not fairrrr,” she gasped. “Let me up!”

She wriggled against him, trying to shove him off in earnest now. She was more and more certain, with each passing moment of struggle, that the was no way that she could get him off of her, no matter how hard she tried.

“Why do you want to get up so badly?” Pasco teased. “I thought you liked it here.”

“B-because! I need to…”

“You need to what?”

“I need to…”

“What’s that?”

“I need to come!”

“Hmmm…” Pasco considered. “No you don’t.”

Gods. She had truly created a monster. 

“Yes, I do!”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll die.”

“Mmm I checked the history books, and y’know what? Nobody has ever died for lack of sex.”

Ada whimpered. “I’m going to!”

“No, I think you’re just fine.” He twitched his hips teasingly into her.

After so long marinating in arousal, the sensation was much stronger than before, especially the feeling of him inside of her. She clenched hard around him, the quivering light of sensation nearly blooming into orgasm before it flickered out again. She groaned.

“I think I’m going to keep you here forever,” Pasco said.

“You c-can’t…” Ada was panting heavily now, struggling to breathe under Pasco’s weight and her impending urgency.

“Oh yeah? And why is that?”

“B-because I… I’m gonna…”

“Because you’re going to die?” He thrust her hips into her again and she yelped.

Everything was so hot, so intense, that it was hard to tell where her torturous bliss ended and her impending orgasm began, until the heat ignited in an unmistakable way.

“N-no b-because I’m g-gonna… come!” Ada did not know what was going to happen if she became a dragon with him on top of her like this, so all she could do was scream, “Red, red!”

Pasco shoved himself off of her, the feeling of his shaft sliding out of her tipping her completely into her climax.

She came to her senses still feeling a firm pressure around her, but it was not Pasco anymore, it was the hut fighting to contain her draconic body. The walls groaned and Ada curled herself in more tightly, relieving the pressure.

Pasco sat in the center of the room, staring up at her with a grin, fortunately uninjured.

There was one other thing she was worried about having broken, but she sighed with relief as she saw it right at her nose, just barely having escaped the crushing force of her expanding body. The headband from the children still hung safely on the wall.

Ada would not be leaving the hut unless she tore it down or came again, because the door was much too small for her dragon body.

“I’m gonna need a bigger room,” Pasco laughed.

“Yes, please,” Ada grumbled in her dragon’s voice.

“I’m surprised you were able to come like that.”

“Well, it really gets to me when you talk like that, apparently.”

“Like what?” He grinned wolfishly.

Uh oh.

“Like when I call you a greedy little slut?”

Ada whimpered.

“Or when I tell you that you’re trapped here with me forever, because no matter how big or strong you are as a dragon, you will always, always cave to your thirst and come crawling, slavering back to me?”

Ada’s eyes rolled back in her head, her body trembled, wetness drooled from her mouth and from her vulva and onto the cushioned floor.

What Pasco said was true because she wanted it to be true.

She listened to him so completely because she loved everything he said.

She would always come crawling, drooling, begging back to him. He had her heart, her sex, her everything tied up around his little finger.

But, she had learned a thing or two about knots, and she knew that this was a slip knot. If ever it wasn’t what she wanted, if ever it was doing more harm than good, she could simply tug on her end and it would unravel, and she would be under her own power again.

Presently, she wanted everything that was happening. She wanted it so bad. She wanted to collapse to the floor in the pile of cushions and to ooze drool and femcum onto the floor for him, to plead and beg and please him. And the way that she had seen his arousal fall so quickly when he worried for her made her trust him even more. Unlike herself, he would never get too carried away that he was not listening to her true intent, keeping her true pleasure in mind.

With a shuddering sigh, she collapsed to the floor.

“What happened to the big, strong, dragon?” he teased. “All I see is a drooling, begging mess.”

“Pleeeeease…” she groaned.

“What are you even begging for?”

“I…” Ada searched in her heady confusion. “I don’t… I don’t know I…” Surely, there was something?

“Are you so lust-drunk that you’re begging just to beg?”

“N-noooo,” Ada moaned, though she knew the answer was ‘yes’. She curled up the knuckles of her back feet to touch herself.

“Ah ah,” Pasco said, “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself.”

Ada yelped, her sex clenching, sending a wave of fluid out over the floor, but her feet stilled. “W-what?”

“You heard me.”

“B-but—”

“But what? You want to be a good little dragon, don’t you?”

Ada’s head flopped back down to the ground and she lay there dripping and dazed as Pasco started to stroke himself.

“Can you lick yourself?”

Ada nodded emphatically.

“Do you like it?”

“Y-yes, it just t-takes me longer than rubbing…”

“Perfect,” Pasco said. “Do that, then. Lick yourself for me.”

It was almost impossible for Ada to comply, the way that his tone of command seemed to melt her will into sheer heat. But somehow, she mustered her wits and curled into a tighter circle, draping her forearm over her back to hold her more easily in place, and she flicked her tongue out at her own sex.

She tasted amazing and it was enough to give her a surge of even greater desire and energy.

She started with long, slow licks over her outer scales, greedily licking and swallowing all of the wetness that covered her. That arousal sent more oozing out of her, which she licked up all the more enthusiastically.

Her inner labia were now puffy and swollen, spreading apart her scales with the most delicious stretch, and Ada pressed her tongue between them.

It felt so good to have something inside of her. Ada moaned, the sound traveling through the bones of her jaw and vibrating against the scales of her stomach. It was a lighter, more teasing feeling than the rumbling of the waterfall, but it felt amazing.

She pressed her snout harder against herself, spreading her outer labia more with the tip of her nose, savoring the strange twin sensation of the softness of her inner labia against her snout, and the arousal of her snout against her labia.

She licked deeper inside, tasting herself and drawing out even more fluid as her sex clenched.

Ada curled herself a bit tighter, pressing her snout just a bit deeper, until the tip of her chin rested against her clit and she moaned experimentally.

The sensation of vibration directly against her clit was so intense, so brilliantly pleasurable, that she could not help but moan even louder, which redoubled the intensity.

It was almost too much to handle but she couldn’t bear to stop. She licked and moaned and quivered and drooled and the heat ignited. Her roar of pleasure because the most intense sensation of all, rumbling through her in the delightful wave that rose up around her and carried her over a smooth, long peak and finally, gently, onto the shore.

Which was, in this case, a puddle of drool and femcum.

“Adaaaa…” Pasco gasped, stroking himself vigorously, somehow having resisted his own climax through all that. Gods bless that man.

His voice broke through her haze and she pulled herself to her knees under him. Though, this wouldn’t afford her the angle that she wanted. “Lie down,” she said.

His curiosity brought him back from the edge, though only just, as he complied.

She made sure that her hand was nice and slick with dragon cum, then came over to him where he lay, his legs slightly spread, still stroking, other hand cupping his balls.

Ada grinned down at him and slipped her hand over his perineum and to his rim.

“Fuck, yes, yes!” His face was alight with pleasure. 

She slipped two fingers inside.

“G-gods you feel so good!” He gasped. “You’re gonna make me… you’re gonna make me…”

She pressed her fingers up into his spot of especial pleasure, and his muscles clenched around her as he started to come.

She greedily wrapped her mouth around his shaft, his hand falling limply to the side as she sucked and licked him through his long, trembling orgasm.

Finally, he started to shake with overwhelm and she gently withdrew and flopped down next to him.

Pasco heaved a sigh. “Gods, you made me come so much…”

Ada licked her lips with satisfaction. “I know.” Then, she surveyed the room, which looked as if it had recently been flooded. “You uh… made me, too.”

“Maybe we should just… live at the waterfall. It would make clean up way easier…”

“Oooh, sounds good to me.”

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