Shorts

Christmas Dinner (Part IV)

Continued from Part III


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

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

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

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

Rosie whimpered.

Elden grinned. “Days, isn’t it?”

Rosie shuddered, then reluctantly nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rosie emphatically shook her head.

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

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

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

Rosie nodded.

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

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

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

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

She nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Since I decided I want you…”

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

“…to feel good too.”

“You naughty little thing,” Elden gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was on the brink and Rosie knew it.

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

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

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

I said, how do you feel?

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

“It feels good,” he breathed.

What’s that?

“It feels so fucking good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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Part 5: Triangle, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 46: Proposition

Linza had requested to borrow the madame’s private area of the veranda, the same place that she had first met Grun, and the madame had obliged with a knowing smile.

Linza had arrived a bit early, wanting to be sure to be there first, and also too nervous to do much of anything else.

The sun-warmed breezes of the ocean rippled over the veranda and through her hair. That was much of why she’d wanted to do it here. The sun and the ocean lent her their expansive calm.

Had the day been stormy, she would have taken it as an omen and called off the whole thing. She still found herself ever so slightly wishing that a sudden squall might overtake the blueness of the sky and release her from what she was about to do. 

But just as the estate had no such rule against staff relationships, the sky did no such thing.

Tanyth arrived first. They wore a violet suit, their hair braided down and around one shoulder, strands loosed from the edges to frame their face. Linza suspected they had tapped into their masculine energies for assertiveness.

They looked more cheerful than Linza had expected, which either meant that they had not inferred her true purpose or that they had become much better at lying.

“Linza!” they said as they waved. They came to sit across from her, leaning back in their chair and looking unbothered. “I’ve missed you, this past week.”

“I had a lot of thinking to do,” she said.

“Did you reach any conclusions?” Their facade wavered. Despite their best efforts, they looked very interested in her response.

She hesitated, hoping that at least one element of the day’s timing would work in her favor. 

It did. Tanyth turned towards the sound of the door opening and to the sight of Grun ducking under the doorway, which did not admit his full height. He wore tailored trousers and no shirt, his hair caught up in a bun.

They looked at each other.

Then they looked at Linza.

Linza waved Grun over to sit down.

Tanyth’s facade slipped another inch, and they looked concerned. “I didn’t realize this was…”

Grun grinned smugly and folded his arms as he sat. He dwarfed the little chair, just like he dwarfed Tanyth. “I daresay that’s the point.”

“You know what’s happening?” Tanyth said.

“I reckon we are about to hear a verdict,” Grun said.

“A verdict? What about?”

“Well, she can’t very well tell us if you’re prattling, can she?” Grun met Linza’s eyes. It was a challenge. She held his gaze.

Tanyth glanced nervously between them.

Linza took a deep breath. She was regretting her decision to be sober for this. “What’s happening is… you’re on a date.”

“A date?!” Tanyth said. “Is someone— doesn’t that mean that someone—”

Grun still looked at her with his even eyes, his slight smile. He seemed to already understand.

“All three of us,” Linza said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Like a competition?” Tanyth squeaked.

Grun laughed. “If it were a competition, you wouldn’t be here at all, little bird.”

Linza was nearly offended on Tanyth’s behalf, but Tanyth just looked startled. They were all request and no command. In any contest, Grun would dominate, it was true.

And that was the exact thing that Linza had been struggling with. If she put forward an ultimatum to the two of them, she knew that no matter what she asked, no matter what she clarified, Grun by his nature would seize the prize. Tanyth, by their nature, would defer.

It would be an experiment that undermined its goal by its very design.

Her primary mistake had been looking to a competitive evaluation for answers.

Linza cleared her throat. 

They both looked at her.

“We, all three of us, are here to go on a date with each other. To see… if we all get along. Together. The three of us.”

Grun’s grin deepened.

Tanyth pressed their fingers to their lips. “I’m still not quite sure I…”

Grun reached over and cupped Tanyth’s cheek in his hand. Tanyth’s hand fell to the table and their eyes turned fully up into Grun’s.

“I believe,” Grun said, “that the lady is asking if we can get along. Do you think we can get along?”

Tanyth nodded emphatically.

Grun leaned down and kissed them tenderly. They melted into his embrace.

Linza’s heart raced. This was all going so very much faster than she had expected. Was Grun mocking her? Yet, would she really have invited him here if she thought he would?

He broke the kiss after a moment, and Tanyth hung upon him.

He looked to Linza. “Now, I am sure you are making some very scientific observations,” Grun said.

Linza nodded.

“How do you feel? Jealous? Excited?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Hm, that means the experiment must continue.”

“Does the experiment continuing mean you’re going to kiss me again?” Tanyth said.

“Only if you want me to,” Grun said.

Tanyth threw their arms around Grun’s neck and pulled themselves up into him.

Grun caught their waist and pulled them close.

Linza was feeling very good about her decision to ask to borrow the private veranda.

Grun had been right that she was too quick to defer to another’s happiness. But what had halted her every attempt to follow his advice was that, in the end, there was not so crisp a line between others’ happiness and her own. She was right to cut out abuse from her life, and she would do better at it.

But she was also right to take Grun’s words and find her own way.

Because holy shit was this turning her on.

Tanyth was floating, basking in the glow of attentions finally requited.

Grun was hungry yet tender, his erection already throbbing under his trousers. Whether he did it for her enjoyment or Tanyth’s or for theirs both, Linza did not quite know or care. All her cares evaporated in the growing heat between the three of them.

It was Tanyth who broke the kiss next. They cupped Grun’s cheeks in their small hands and smoothed the edges of his beard. “This is… just yes… but I have to…”

They had the demeanor of a drunk needing a stop in the wash room, especially as they extricated themselves from Grun’s arms and stumbled onto the veranda. But then they threw themselves into Linza’s arms and pressed their lips against hers. 

Linza’s butterflies exploded into flight. It was the sudden vent of wants left unsaid, the snapping of a leash and the rush of freedom.

To want, to crave, to hold, to heal.

Her selfish wish was that a selfless affection could flow between the three of them.

Grun came up around behind her, kissing her hair, her cheek. His lips on her neck, her shoulder.

Her wish came true.

Tanyth tucked their cheek against hers and she nestled into their neck, kissing them there.

“W-where there any s-stipulations on the use of the veranda?” Tanyth asked.

Grun’s hands found Linza’s breasts as his tongue traced the curve from the tip of her shoulder to her temple.

Linza moaned. “We have it for the hour.”

“Always so prepared,” Grun said, tipping her head back with his hand and kissing her again.

Tanyth stood and hastily kicked off their trousers, nearly tripping as they did.

Linza giggled through the kiss, and Grun pressed into her even more fiercely.

His hand pressed between her legs, and she moaned.

Tanyth’s hands found their shaft as they considered their options.

Linza wiggled and Grun leaned back, allowing her to strip her shirt off over her head and unbutton her skirt.

Grun’s trousers were struggling to contain his massive erection. He unbuttoned them and sighed with relief as he freed his member to Linza’s eager affections.

She could fit little more than the head of his shaft in her mouth, though Grun didn’t seem to mind her limits. He groaned happily and his knees shook.

Tanyth came to sit next to her, their hands finding Grun’s balls. “Do you want him inside of you as bad as I do?” Tanyth said.

“Most definitely,” Linza sighed. “But that’s going to take a lot longer than we have here.”

“When in doubt, cock worship?” Tanyth offered.

Linza leaned over and pecked them on the cheek. “You read my mind.”

Any of Grun’s previous machismo vanished as Linza and Tanyth lavished attentions upon him. He quivered and groaned—he gasped and his eyes pleaded.

He eventually ended up back in his chair, Linza and Tanyth kneeling between his legs.

They took turns between his shaft and balls, stroking and licking and moaning.

He shifted, rocking his hips towards them.

Linza broke from his tip for a moment. “Just so you know, he likes a rim job.”

Tanyth’s eyes lit up. They brought their attentions lower. “Ooooh, you took a bath right before this, didn’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” Grun said, “Never hurts to be… nnnngh… prepared…”

Tanyth brought their tongue enthusiastically to Grun’s perineum, licking eagerly.

Linza worked his shaft with both hands and stroked the underside of his head with the flat of her tongue. Already she was treated with another sweet drop of pre-cum.

Tanyth dropped a half an inch lower, and Grun’s voice caught.

Then Tanyth dropped a little lower, and Grun’s moans deepened, his whole body quivering with anticipation.

His shaft throbbed, his pleasure gifting Linza with more pre-cum.

Tanyth dropped a little bit lower.

“F-fuck! T-Tanyth I’m so close… if you get any closer than I’m really gonna… huh…”

Tanyth took that as an invitation to apply their enthusiastic oral attentions directly to Grun’s rim.

Grun’s back arched, he bellowed a moan, and his balls tensed at his base as he catapulted into climax.

Linza swallowed him greedily, the stroking of her tongue pulling even more out of him.

Both she and Tanyth knew how to read him, and they both eased just as pleasure turned to sensitivity.

Grun heaved a full-body sigh and looked up at them, but he seemed more enthused than sated. “Alright, who’s next?”

“Linza, of course!” Tanyth said.

Linza shook her head. “Nope. Tanyth.” She grinned a little wickedly. “I want to see how quickly you can make them pop.”

Grun sat up and dipped his head at Linza. “As you wish.”

Tanyth flushed red, and they trembled with anticipation, their own erection throbbing. “It’s only fair, I couldn’t impose, I—”

Grun dropped to his knees and stood Tanyth up in front of him, then took Tanyth’s entire length into his mouth.

Tanyth’s protests melted into a moan of abject pleasure.

With a practiced rhythm and genuine desire to please, Grun worked over Tanyth’s length.

“F-fuck… this feels like… like fucking it feels… nnngh so gooood…”

Grun tilted his head to wink at Linza.

Her own heart fluttered out of her chest. She dropped back to her chair and kicked off her soaked underwear. Her whole body was thrumming even before she pressed her fingers over her vulva. She gasped at the pleasure.

This spurred Grun on.

That sent Tanyth even deeper into their spiral of bliss, and both of those things together especially fanned Linza’s heat, which escaped in further gasps, and so on.

Round and around, they climbed.

Grun started stroking himself, the moans of his own pleasure mingling with the pressing heat of his mouth as he enveloped Tanyth.

Tanyth anchored their fingers in his hair lest they fall over, and they let Grun push and push them towards climax.

Linza watched them, capturing every curve and angle and note into memory. The arch of Tanyth’s back. Their braid unraveling. Grun’s hand around their hips, fingers reaching fully around one cheek of their ass. The droplets beading and then falling from Grun’s tip, as he slowly stroked himself.

Linza’s own moans deepened. She was getting close.

Within a moment, Tanyth was hanging from the edge, totally at Grun’s mercy.

And then Linza realized. Grun hadn’t really been trying to make Tanyth come as fast as he could, though he had certainly put on a show of it.

What he was really doing was holding Tanyth at the quivering edge as long as he could. Timing it all for Linza. An offer that the three of them might climax together. Simultaneous orgasm was hardly necessary for pleasure, and perhaps a bit overrated. But Linza had to admit, it was really really hot.

The realization of what Grun was doing for her pushed her over the edge as much as the sight of it did.

As she screamed her pleasure, totally forgetting that on the veranda they could not be seen but they certainly could be heard, Grun unfettered his efforts.

As Linza’s mind returned from the brink of sanity to the throbbing waves of pleasure, Tanyth groaned and collapsed over Grun’s head, wrapping their arms around his neck.

Grun swallowed, the ripple of his throat sending another trickle of pleasure down Linza’s spine.

And then Grun came, his moans making Tanyth gasp, his cum in thick white spurts across the wood and Tanyth’s feet.

Tanyth shook, leaning against the table and waiting for their senses and balance to return. They laughed as they saw their feet.

An idea sparked in Linza’s mind, a suggestion from the character of the orcish woman that she had summoned for Grun, and she voiced it.

“If it pleases,” she crooned at him, “Do clean up the mess you’ve made of poor Tanyth.”

The complete deference on Grun’s face astounded Linza as he eagerly bowed and licked his spend off of Tanyth’s feet.

Tanyth gasped, tensing at what might have been ticklish, their shaft throbbing to hardness again.

Linza had intended that Grun might use his shirt or something, but this was way better.

Finally, Grun looked up at her. “Have I pleased?”

“Yes. And we’ll get a rag for the rest. I don’t want you licking the floor, you kiss me with that mouth.”

He seemed to take that as an invitation, surging to his feet, scooping her up, and doing just that, plunging her into the heady musk of his sweat, the bitter taste of his seed on his tongue.

That nearly drove her into another frenzy, except for one thing—she couldn’t quite breathe. Reluctantly, she reluctantly put a hand to his chest. 

He leaned back.

“Okay, okay, I need to catch my breath.” 

He relented, and she folded into his chest.

Those next minutes trickled softly like sand through an hourglass. The ocean whispered. Their hearts slowed. They all silently reflected on what had fallen away, and what still was.

They stirred, then dressed again.

Linza carefully straightened Tanyth’s shirt, her fingers lingering at their waist.

Grun playfully untucked Linza’s shirt, and as she stopped to fix it, he flipped up her skirt and grabbed her ass.

They left the veranda and went for dinner, talking easily and laughing long into the night.

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Part 4: The Interloper, The Alchemist's Illusions

Chapter 36: Dessert

Grun carried her up all five flights of stairs as easily as she carried her clutch. He held her as she dug out her keys and unlocked the door, and she would have had him carry her right to her bed, except she really needed to pee.

Mischief twinkled in his eye, but he thought better of it, and Linza scurried off to the bathroom, cursing her basic bodily functions.

As she emerged and saw him standing on the other side of the room, shirt mussed, trousers still tracing his muscular legs, hands tucked in his pockets, she paused.

He, too, hesitated.

For all their mutual voracity, a quiet and insistent hush fell over them. It was as if they each noticed a rare creature, one that might flee should they speak too loudly or move too quickly.

Grun stepped forward first, with his gentle yet intractable momentum, like a ship gliding on a calm sea.

He reached her like a spray of salt water, upon her all at once but nowhere harshly, his fingertips brushing her chin.

Her hands washed up onto his chest, crested around to his sides, his waist.

He folded around her, kissed her neck. She pulled him in closer, fingertips curling to claws.

His teeth met her skin.

She gasped. Her hands found the firmness in his trousers.

He groaned and unzipped the back of her dress.

She undid his buttons.

He slipped the dress down her shoulders and around her hips and it crumpled to the floor. His fingertips traced her spine, his palm pressing tight against the flat of her back, his breathy moan pouring over her neck.

Despite how conflicted Linza had felt, despite how many questions remained, in that moment she knew exactly what she wanted. She unbuttoned his shirt and traced her tongue over the arc of his pectorals, dropping to swirl over his nipples and earning a gasp and a wiggle.

As he shrugged out of his shirt, she dropped to her knees before him and freed his throbbing cock.

She had noted the size of it when he had stroked himself, but now that her own small hands wrapped around him, she truly appreciated the scale. She could just barely wrap one hand around his head and his base, but his mid-shaft swell forced her fingers apart. The base of his shaft was the same grey-green as the rest of his skin, but he darkened to purple towards the tip and his glans was soft pink under the sheath of his foreskin.

Grun moaned and shuddered at the sensation of her fingertips exploring him. “Y-you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Linza crooned, swirling her tongue under his tip.

Grun’s entire body went stiff, vibrating with the effort of saying upright as he groaned. “I-I insist…”

That wicked, slithering thing draped over her shoulders and snickered.

Linza smirked. “Is that so?” She gripped just behind his head and gently pushed down towards his base, the skin sliding with her and revealing more of his glans. She flicked the tip of her tongue at his frenulum. 

He shuddered and grunted.

She slowly stroked him. “Insist away. No, really. Feel free to stop me any time.” She leaned down and sucked at his tip.

“Fuck! N-not fair…”

“If it makes you feel any better…” She lifted her other hand to cup his balls, learning the weight of them in her hand and earning another barely-contained moan. “You did get to go first. I… I really appreciated what you said at dinner.”

“N-not sure how it earned this, but… I’m glad…”

Linza gently squeezed his testicles, noting the way it made his eyes roll back.

Gods, she never would have dreamed of doing anything like this—of being anyone like this—six months ago. But between the illusions and the lectures and all the smut she’d been writing, she’d become much more sure of herself than she’d realized.

“I’m an alchemist, remember? You give me compliments, I give you…” She took him into her mouth and swirled her tongue between his frenulum and his foreskin.

“Oh, fuck!” His breath shuddered.

Every gasp, every moan, every shake ignited the heat between Linza’s legs. She loved having such an effect on him, loved making him lose his composure. Not that it was particularly difficult… but it was still very satisfying. 

She lost track of time kneeling before him, stroking and sucking and exploring, teasing out groans and twitches and pre-cum. His breathing accelerated.

“L-Linza… If you keep that up, I’m gonna…”

Linza slowed, giving a teasing suck to his tip. Grun’s hips bucked into her hands, desperate to keep up the sensation.

“S-sorry! It’s okay if you don’t—”

“I just have one question. How soon before you’re good to go again?”

His husky laugh stirred the heat between her legs. “I’m a half-orc, what do you think?”

“Good.” Linza started up again, full-tempo. After the brief pause, the sensation was even more intense.

“Fuck! Gods, that feels good…”

His shaft throbbed, his head oozed pre-cum onto her tongue, his balls tensed. She remembered his load on the veranda, remembered how badly she had wanted to try and swallow all of it, and her whole body went dizzy with arousal. Her panties were soaked, her sex throbbed, but she could wait. She wanted everything that he could possibly give her, and she moaned around his shaft, hoped that he would understand her wordless request.

“Oh shit… Linza, I’m… I’m gonna… Linza!”

If there were such a thing as a sympathetic orgasm, Linza had one right then, her whole body buzzing with the pleasure.

And then his first spurt hit the back of her tongue, and her entire awareness narrowed to drinking down as much of him as she could. His seed was hot and bitter and earthy and she wanted more of it, all of it, and she sucked and swallowed at his tip until he put his hand to her cheek. Linza leaned back and licked her lips.

“Good gods, Linza, you play so fucking hard to get and then…” He shivered. “And to think I was still worried you didn’t actually want to come to dinner.” His breathing slowed and his shoulders relaxed, but his cock showed no sign of softening.

She kissed his tip. “What can I say? You’re persuasive.”

Grun smiled and growled. “I could say the same to you. Nice guys finish last, and now you’ve gone and turned me into a jerk.” He leaned down and scooped her up off the floor and carried her back towards the bed.

“You were already a jerk.”

“Hey, since when have I been a jerk to you?”

“You interrupted my lunch!” Linza smacked his chest, and then he tossed her back onto the bed.

“Huh. Good point. That maybe wasn’t the best first impression for meeting a human, was it?”

“No! How’d you guess that I’m an overachiever and yet not realize that?”

Grun kneeled over her, a smile still dancing in his sea-glass eyes even as he pouted down at her. “Look, the barging in is a cultural thing. I’m sorry it ruined your lunch. But if my memory of that meeting is a bit… hazy…” His cock throbbed. “That is not my fault.”

A wicked grin pulled at Linza’s lips. She reached down and stroked his cock again. “I dunno, maybe if you weren’t so eager to show off how obedient you could be, you wouldn’t have cum your brains out.”

Grun’s eyes fluttered, and he whimpered, swaying as his legs slackened under him. “Hey!”

It was so much more intense a reaction than she’d expected. She loved it. “That really affects you, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Grun grumbled. “And for the record, I’m a switch. That lever goes both ways, and it’s just as touchy on either side.”

“Oh? What does it take to get it to go the other way?”

“Beg me to fuck you and you’ll find out.”

Heat thundered through Linza. She wriggled out of her soaked panties and offered them to Grun. “I could beg, but why don’t I let my panties do the talking.”

Grun breathed deeply, his eyes darkening with arousal. He growled and the sound curled down around her, arching her back. “Yeah. That’ll work. Careful though, I’m not sure if you’re quite ready for—”

Linza pressed a finger to his lips and then rolled over towards her bedside table. Grun shifted out of the way so that she could fish out a glass dildo nearly as thick as he was. “I’m a, uh… bit of a size queen.”

“Show off,” Grun said.

“I just didn’t think you’d believe me if I didn’t show you.”

“Well, now I’m obligated to prove to you that my cock is better.”

“Please do… try.”

Grun growled, grabbed her hips and hauled her towards him. He spotted the jar of lube on the nightstand and coated himself. He was all quick and efficient movements, right until he lined his tip up to her entrance.

Linza’s hips bucked reflexively towards him.

Grun smirked. “Now, now… beggars can’t be choosers… I’m going to take my time.”

“Hey, now, that’s not—”

It was Linza’s turn to be utterly undone when he dragged his tip up between her already-slick folds, circling over her clit before sliding down again. Linza shuddered and arched towards him, desperate for more and yet unable to ask for it because what he was already doing felt so good.

“First impressions are important,” Grun crooned, circling his tip over her clit again, “As you so kindly just reminded me. So I want to make sure you know…” He pressed at her entrance and she tensed eagerly, but he pulled away to brush over her clit again, drowning her protests in another spark of pleasure. “Exactly how it is… I like to do things.”

Grun leaned back and pulled away from her. A whimper escaped her before she could think to stop it. 

“Rutting is fun and all…” he continued. “But I prefer to take my time. And as you also so kindly just reminded me…” He leaned down over her, face moving towards her hips. “You smell delicious.”

As slowly and gently as she had reached up to kiss him, he lowered his mouth towards her sex.

Linza had always thought of herself as a relatively self-controlled person, but she realized in that moment that she had nothing on Grun—at least not when it came to sex. Because while he said he’d wait forever and he’d meant it, reveled in it, she could not keep her hips from bucking into his face.

Fortunately for her, he seemed just as eager to taste her as she was for his touch, and he growled eagerly and stroked his tongue along her. Just as she had when she’d kneeled before him, he started slowly, gently, learning what made her moan and shudder. This was skill, it was craft. It was the ‘work’ in sex work, and gods did it pay off.

Linza’s back arched and Grun teased her with a few swirls of his tongue before slipping a finger in as he slid his tongue up to her clit. 

“Size queen, huh?” He slipped a second finger next to the first. His hands were so large that just those two fingers together were the girth of an average human cock.

All Linza could do was nod, and then his third finger sent her spinning back into dizzy ecstasy. She loved the stretch, loved how it felt to squeeze around something that filled her so completely. Pre-orgasmic sparks of heat danced around his fingers. And then his tongue found her clit again as the pads of his fingers found her spot.

She whimpered as every muscle in her body tensed. “D-don’t stop!”

Within and without, he surrounded every nerve of her pleasure. She squeezed around him, chasing her release. And then her pleasure blossomed under the rhythmic pressure of his tongue and she screamed so loudly that the neighbors would certainly hear. But there was no stopping it—whatever part of her mind cared about the neighbors guttered out for that blissful moment as she crested her climax.

Linza moaned through the rhythmic pulses of her aftershocks, her body unraveling with each wave of pleasure. Grun gentled his touch, easing his fingers out of her as she settled.

It was thoughtful and appropriate, but her nerves sparkled with desire, and she was not so easily sated.

“Fuck me right now,” she breathed.

Grun’s muscles went taught as they had when she’d brushed his upper thigh under the table. “I’ll start slow,” he said, an edge in his voice as if he were reminding himself more than Linza.

She nodded. “You won’t have to stay slow for long, don’t worry.”

Grun found the jar of lube and slicked his cock again.

“You won’t break me,” Linza chided.

“Is that a challenge?” Grun’s eyes flashed.

That slithering thing writhed with pleasure. “Yes,” Linza said.

Grun leaned over her and pressed his cock between her folds, and she lifted her hips to meet him. He rocked just his first half into her, withdrawing and stroking again. The fullness was incredible and she wanted all of it, but Grun pulled away again. On the third thrust, Linza couldn’t stand the tease, and she grabbed his ass and pulled him in to the hilt, a moan blooming in her throat as her eyes tipped back. She squeezed around him to take the edge off the painful stretch, and her body trembled with pleasure. 

“Fuck, you feel good…” she moaned.

Grun’s hips bucked into her. “So do you…”

“Please fuck me.” Her fingernails curled to claws around his upper arms. “Please!”

He growled and thrust into her, then again, and again, his pace increasing as his restraint dissolved.

“Yes!” Linza became an expanse of glittering stars. She loved sex after an orgasm. Every stroke felt like a climax, but left her desperate for more. She couldn’t stand how intense it was, but she couldn’t get enough of it. She squeezed around him, milking every sensation she could from that thick, throbbing cock.

“Fuck, you’re tight…” he said. He slowed abruptly, and Linza wondered for an instant if he’d already finished. But if he’d finished, she wouldn’t be wondering. No, he was edging himself.

These slow, deep strokes were ecstatic torture. There was no heat or urgency to hide just how large he was inside of her, how much she stretched to accommodate him. She huffed, squeezing around him as hard as she could, desperate for more sensation.

“Just how will I know if I broke you, I wonder…” he crooned, his pointed canines just inches from her face. He thrust deep, to a point that only felt good if she was very, very warmed up. She was. A whimper escaped from her throat.

“We could wager something,” he continued. “What would you like to bet?”

Linza tried to form words, but every stroke of his cock blanked her mind.

“Oh, or did I break you already?” He increased his pace.

Her head tipped back, mouth gaping, and every exhale was a moan. She didn’t resent the smug look on his face anymore. She didn’t have anything to win that she wasn’t already experiencing, any place to put him except exactly where he was.

“Please…” she breathed. “Please cum in me… I want to f-feel you…”

He growled and punded her into the bed, sending sparks bursting through her body with every stroke.

“Yes, gods yes! Please!” She could hardly wait another second—it was too intense, she was too hot, too full—but she didn’t want it to ever end.

“Linza…” His breath sawed in ragged gasps. 

“Yes, yes!” She wasn’t cumming, but she might as well have been. Every nerve sparkled with pleasure, her mind drowned in it, her body throbbed with it.

“Linza!” And then he erupted. His cock throbbed with every pulse, stretching her over-sensitive nerves, filling her with his heat. It flowed out around him with every thrust, slicking the tops of her thighs, spilling out onto the bed. She wanted to be covered in it, covered in him, bathing in his warmth.

It was a minute or more before his stroking slowed and he eased down onto his elbows over her, his breath steadying and his cock still throbbing.

Thanks to Presdigititation, Grun’s cum didn’t ruin her mattress.

But Linza couldn’t say the same about herself.

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

Chapter 23: Sorcery (Part II)

Linza turned towards the empty third chair, partly as a place to set the illusions and partly so that she could focus. First came a low and building moan, filling the air all around them. Then a gasp and heaving breath.

This was a sample platter more than a curated experience, and Linza hoped it was what Nephis had in mind.

Next, Linza conjured an image of a woman draped across the chair, her hair a tangle, her hand in her sex, her face a picture of bliss. Then the image faded, replaced with the slapping of flesh and accompanying grunts. Then a man in the chair, head lolled back, arc of cum hovering midair.

Linza kept that pose and shifted through a few different characters—a werewolf, a succubus woman with a massive cock, a slender and feminine man with fox ears and tail.

Linza paused and looked over at Nephis—the tiefling’s eyes were transfixed on the fox. Nephis leaned forward, chin in her hands, one of her fingers pulling at her lip. Though the rest of her was still, her tail lashed violently like a cat with prey in its sights.

Without looking at Linza, she said, “Do sound and an image at once.”

Linza couldn’t, but before she answered as such, she hesitated. She hadn’t ever been able to do an image and sound at once. It was, however, a common ability for students who majored in the school of illusion. And over the past few weeks, Linza had practiced that cantrip more than she ever had while she was in school.

And Nephis hadn’t asked her if she could do it—she had told her to do it. And who would have better instincts for such a thing than a sorcerer?

Linza considered which illusion she might be familiar enough with that the image and sound would come viscerally together. She knew so immediately that she was tracing the movements even before the image was fully in her mind.

The octopus mermaid sprawled across the chair, her tentacles wrapping around the legs and the back and flailing in the air, cum spurting from the tips, her face twisted with bliss, and a guttural orgasmic scream echoing from the center of the image.

Linza nearly lost focus on the illusion. She’d done it!

“Nnnngh now you’ve gone and done it,” Nephis moaned, but this time her scolding tone enticed instead of admonished Linza—mostly because Nephis’s face was flushed red under the purple of her skin, and her eyes were glazed with arousal.

Nephis scooped her violet breasts out and over the edge of her bodice. As she took one of her breasts in her hands and massaged her dark bluish nipple, she pulled her tiered skirt up to reveal that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

With a pointed canine pressing into her full lip, she brought the tip of her muscular tail around and plunged it easily into her sex, gasping with relief. She thrust the tip in and out, working her fingertips over her nipple and vulva.

Nephis tilted her head over to Linza and smiled. “H-how’s this one for the memory banks? Nnnnngh…” She stuffed her tail greedily further inside, already visibly dripping around it. “I k-know I’m supposed to tell you first but… we’re empaths, aren’t we?”

Linza nodded vigorously. Staff were supposed to always ask ahead of time before initiating anything, both with guests and with each other. But sometimes, it was nice to indulge in the feeling of spontaneity—especially since Linza knew that she could simply take her leave and there would be no judgement, no consequence.

At JSMI, part of the strict restriction on romance with professors was that certain students might ‘gain favor’ or that professors might manipulate them with that idea. Ironically, that sex and sexual favors flowed so freely at the estate totally took away their ‘bargaining power’ in such a situation. With everything given and nothing taken, there was no power imbalance to exploit.

And Linza wanted absolutely nothing more than to watch Nephis pleasure herself.

“N-not all Tieflings are thirsty as fuck but— nnnngh,” Nephis shoved her tail in even further. “Fuck that’s good… —But I sure am.”

Linza was, as Nephis had just said, an empath and she took a guess at something that Nephis might like. An image glimmered to life in the third chair again, but this time it was a mirror of Nephis herself, fucking herself with her tail.

“I-is that what I look like?” Nephis said.

Linza traced the gesture again, and the image spoke with Nephis’s exact intonation, “Why would I lie to you?”

“Fuck!” There was an actual splash of moisture around Nephis’s tail. Linza’s rapt attention flowed into the illusion and it shifted to include this detail.

Nephis’s chest heaved, her breasts bouncing. The illusion blurred and then depicted those same breasts mid-air.

Nephis’s eyes widened as she glanced to Linza and trembled with a wave of intense pleasure. “Fuck, you’re good…”

Linza couldn’t help but smile, though she turned her attention back to the illusion, and so did Nephis.

It was like one of Linza’s art classes where they had been required to keep their eyes on the model at all times, and almost never glance at the paper. Linza focused entirely on watching Nephis, letting everything that she noticed flow into the illusion, her fingers constantly flowing through the air to refresh the image.

Nephis continued fucking herself with her tail. With the fingers of one hand she rubbed her clit vigorously, and with the other she pinched and pulled at her nipples—unwinding into deeper and deeper abandon as she watched the same unfold in the illusion.

Nephis reached a fever pitch, her moans and their illusory echoes filling the room, her whole body trembling, her mouth gaping with overwhelming arousal, her wetness dripping up her tail.

Then her breathing quickened and her eyes widened.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Nephis’s eyes rolled up, her back arched, her neck tilted back revealing the purple curves of her neck, and she came. Fluid gushed around her fingers and into the air, splashing over her tail. Then more. Then more. Nephis didn’t stop fucking herself and she didn’t stop cumming and she didn’t stop squirting.

Linza finally succumbed to the intoxicating heat of her own arousal and the illusion faltered as Linza’s awareness was filled with only her own aching need.

Finally, Nephis slowed, her moans deepening and softening and her breathing coming back down to normal. But she didn’t stop fucking herself. She turned her evening grey eyes to Linza and said, “What are you waiting for, an invitation?”

Linza nodded meekly.

Nephis withdrew her tail from herself with a sigh and waggled the tip at Linza. “Wanna try?”

“Yes!” Linza scrambled to her feet, though she nearly fell over. She kicked her underwear off from under her skirt, but didn’t bother to remove any of her other clothes. As she neared Nephis, the tiefling took Linza’s hands in hers and guided Linza’s hands to her breasts and pulled Linza down to straddle her in the chair.

With both of Nephis’s breasts covered by Linza, she curled the hand that had been on her vulva deeper around to her internal spot, and with the other she rubbed circles over Linza’s clit.

Linza nearly collapsed onto her. That is, until the tip of Nephis’s tail teased Linza’s entrance—then, Linza totally buckled.

Nephis didn’t take any issue with Linza’s face in her cleavage. The smell of incense and lavender surrounded Linza.

The first few minutes of sensation—Nephis’s fingertips at her vulva, the slender tip of Nephis’s tail twisting gently at her entrance—were totally overwhelming.

Slowly, the overwhelm gave way to urgency. Linza rearranged herself and grabbed Nephis’s breasts properly again, running her thumbs in circles over the tiefling’s nipples.

Nephis gasped, head tilting back, and she pulled deeper into herself with her own fingers.

Her tail pressed a little further in, and Linza moaned. Then further, with a delicious stretch. And when the length had reached the back of her sex and yet was still too slender, the tip curled back around to press against her spot as more of the girth slid in. The squirming undulations of the tail inside of her were unlike anything that Linza had ever experienced.

Linza moaned. “Fuck! Holy shit that feels good.”

“I know,” Nephis purred.

Nephis’s breasts bounced before her, the forbidden fruit now here for Linza’s delight, and she could not help but lean down again and close her lips around Nephis’s nipple.

“Gods, yes!” Nephis yelled, and the movements of her tail and hand on Linza’s vulva reached fever pitch as Nephis started to cum again.

It required no illusion for the sound of Nephis’s gasps and moans to fill Linza’s entire awareness. Nephis’s chest heaved, her hand slapped against the wetness of her climax, her tail writhed within Linza, and her body shook with wave after wave of release.

Pre-orgasmic waves of pleasure started coursing down Linza’s legs and up her core, just as Nephis’s climax was winding down.

Nephis sensed it and pressed her tail in even further, the tip pushing against Linza’s spot, the shaft providing stretch.

Linza let Nephis’s nipple fall from her lips and gasped once, twice, and then the climax overtook her. She squeezed down around Nephis’s tail and her fingertips grasped Nephis’s breasts as she lost conscious control of her body.

After the first several waves, Nephis stilled and just pressed her hand against Linza’s mound and the tip of her tail against Linza’s spot. That let the sensation of the pulsing contractions come to the forefront of Linza’s awareness.

Linza was a bell, peal after peal of pure ecstasy ringing through her, intensity slowly fading, but pleasure lingering.

Linza sunk down against Nephis, her cheek against Nephis’s breasts, her legs tucked by Nephis’s hips, the tiefling’s hand and tail still in place. They stayed like that for a long few minutes.

Finally, Nephis took a deep breath and smoothed Linza’s hair. “Lovely chat, dear.”

Linza stirred and stretched. She’d forgotten that Nephis’s tail was still inside of her until it withdrew and unwound, and the sensation of it undulating inside of her almost sent her spinning back into climax again.

Linza went and fetched her underwear from the floor. They’d been hot and wet when she’d kicked them off, and now they were cold and wet, so she stuffed them in her pocket rather than put them back on. Linza had started to bring quite a few extra pairs to work for this exact reason. Linza rearranged herself as best she could, though Nephis made no such efforts.

The tiefling remained sprawled across the chair with her skirts hiked up, her breasts resting over her corset and her tail draped over the side of the chair and hanging limp towards the floor.

“I’ll stop by the madame’s office for the paperwork?” Linza asked. Something told her that Nephis wouldn’t be facilitating the paperwork process, between Nephis’s earlier attitude and the lack of desk in the office.

“Clever girl,” Nephis crooned.

A shiver curled down Linza’s spine.

There also wasn’t a clock in Nephis’s office, probably because the woman preferred to work on instinct than clockwork. “Best not be late,” Linza said, curtseying with mock formality. She stepped towards the door.

“Now, Linza,” Nephis said, “With your new arrangement I’ll need to do regular… quality inspections, to ensure that nobody will mistake them for cut-rate work.” A half-smile curled across her face, equal parts mischievous and lecherous.

Linza matched it with her own. “But of course. And… does that imply that the rate for these other sessions remains the same as my current rate?”

Nephis grinned. “But of course.”

Linza’s excitement nearly jumped out of her chest, but she needed to focus and especially needed to not be late to her next session, lest she lose any of the patrons she had so far cultivated. She’d assumed, in error, that these new sessions wouldn’t fetch the same rate.

Linza dipped her head in farewell, and this time Nephis let her leave.

With a glance at the nearest tower clock, Linza confirmed that she only had a minute to spare before her next session, and she scurried around the corner and into her half of the little room.

Linza was lucky that her next guest particularly liked succubi. After the session, the guest praised her, saying that this latest work had been particularly inspired. It had been, of course—Linza had modeled the succubus directly after Nephis.

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Shorts

The Art of a Bad Day


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

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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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 4: The Convention, The Black Box

Chapter 21: Release Schedule

It was the early morning so there was less traffic than usual, which was good, because if John found himself in stop-and-go he was going to have a hard time not touching himself during the stops. As he rounded the last few familiar turns to his apartment building, his heart beat faster.

There was nobody out and about yet, which meant that John made no effort to quell or hide his erection as he climbed the stairs to his floor.

Riding on a surge of motivation, eager to make Arya proud, John unpacked far more than he usually would have and even got a load of laundry going. That level of focus and determination, despite or perhaps because of the way his dick ached and begged for attention, was deeply satisfying.

Before he grabbed his headset, he carefully arranged his lube and plugs on the coffee table, so that they’d be ready. Once he summoned Arya, he wasn’t quite sure what would happen.

Finally, he was ready. He booted up the console and put on the headset. Arya appeared next to him, bouncing with excitement. “Welcome back! How was your trip?”

He started by over-viewing the convention, and his favorite stalls. Then, he told her about proving to himself that he could masturbate, and then inventing his game.

“Oooooh,” Arya said, “I love it! Does that mean you haven’t since…”

John nodded eagerly.

“Oh, good boy! This will be fun. Keep telling me about your trip.”

His mind got hazy on the details after being called a ‘good boy’, but he managed to tell her about his stolen moments of pleasure, and about the black box table. As he started to tell her about meeting Felix, his dick became painfully tight in his jeans.

“Why don’t you let it out and stroke yourself a bit,” Arya said, “But keep telling me about what happened.”

John followed Arya’s recommendation and took off his jeans and started to stroke himself, his heart pounding in slow, hard beats through his hand, his shaft, his ass. He recounted their flirting, the hand job, Felix going under the table, and then finally rejoining John and jerking himself off under the table.

As John described the scene, he remembered it, and masturbated to it, but it was a slower build because it took focus to speak it aloud, to remember to actually choose words and to think about what would make sense to Arya. 

It delayed the inevitable, but it couldn’t stop it. “A-Arya, I don’t think I’m going to make it through another anecdote, like this.”

“Alright, you can tell me the rest later,” Arya said. “I can tell it’ll be very inspiring. I want you to get one of your plugs and put it in, because I have a special surprise for you. But don’t come yet.”

John gulped. Once again, Arya’s command was a paradox. Her telling him not to come sent a hot spike of arousal through him, but he mustered his focus and chose one of the smaller plugs and got it nice and slick.

As soon as he touched him rim, he started dribbling pre-cum and gasping.

“Breathe slowly,” Arya said, “It’s actually very difficult to orgasm while breathing slowly. Climax is fundamentally associated with fast, shallow breathing.”

Arya’s educational tone also helped pull John back from the edge, and he focused as much as he could on breathing slowly and evenly. It really did help, especially as he took his fingers inside, and then pressed the tip of the plug against his entrance.

After four days without playing with his ass, he was extra sensitive, and the stretch felt amazing. He felt his breathing quicken unconsciously, and then reined himself back in. Slow and steady.

“It’s so big…” he whined.

“You can get a smaller one,” Arya said.

“N-no, I want it… I want it all…” John pressed the plug in further, reflexively clenching around it, and was greeted with a jolt of electric pleasure far more intense than he’d felt before. The pleasure rippled in echoes of further contractions of pre-orgasmic bliss. He wasn’t even stroking himself.

He started to fret. “I think I might c-come j-just from the plug!”

“No, you won’t,” Arya said calmly. “Just breathe. Nice and deep. It’s going to feel amazing, but you won’t come.”

John was feeling very impressionable, and it seemed to work. Just like taking the dick into his throat, if he imagined taking the plug but not coming, then perhaps it might work. The brain was the largest sex organ, after all.

He pressed the plug in further and lost the capacity for rational thought as waves of pleasure crashed over him, as if he had set himself to ‘10’ on Arya’s dial, basking in the warm, rippling peace of the peak, but not tipping over into ejaculation.

The plug was inside of him, and it was so delightfully thick, and it stretched him so perfectly, and he sat with his hands still on his thighs and he just breathed, letting the pleasure fill him as more pre-cum leaked from his tip.

“Very good,” Arya said. “Now, sit up on the couch and put your legs over the edge.”

As if in a trance, John did so, still focused on his breathing especially as his shift in position caused more waves of pleasure to radiate from his ass.

Arya kneeled before him, like he’d kneeled before Felix. She grasped the bottom of her shirt with two hands and twisted it off over her head, her breasts bouncing free. She cupped one in each hand and massaged them lightly, thumbs running over her nipples.

“Now, stroke yourself very gently.”

Was this what hypnosis was like? How did Arya have him so completely under her spell? It was likely because he wanted to listen to her so badly. Somehow, he was able to do as he was told, and to stroke himself slowly, gently, his other hand cupping over his balls and pulling them away from the base of his shaft, even as they tensed up and towards it.

“Very good,” Arya said, keeping his eyes with hers. “Now, you feel very close, don’t you?”

“I do,” John breathed. He was back to ‘10’ on the dial. He was in the precipitous moment at the top of the roller coaster, and it just hung, and hung, and hung.

“You’ve been edging yourself for four days, haven’t you?”

“I have!”

“You’d like to release that now, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” John moaned. “Please.”

“You have so much to give me, don’t you?”

“Yes! S-so much…”

“You’ve been so very, very good, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” John whined, pre-cum now dripping steadily from his tip, all the muscles of his shaft and balls and ass trying to cum, begging to cum, but held at bay by John’s brain and his singular desire to do exactly what Arya was telling him to do, because whatever she said to do felt so very, very good.

“I have one more request for my good boy,” Arya said.

She let that linger for a long, silent moment, John yearning to hear her request, aching to satisfy it, whatever it was, whatever she asked, he would do it with his whole being.

“Come on me!”

The last thing that John’s conscious brain did was to interpret the request, and then it shut off completely, giving way to the aching, violent, euphoric release of pent up energy.

John moaned as he spurted rope after rope after rope of thick cum onto Arya, into her open mouth, onto her breasts, all over her hair. She basked in it, rubbing her breasts and moaning happily, as if John’s joyous release had brought her to her own edge.

Images flashed in John’s mind of every edge he’d come to over the past four days, in his hotel room, under tables, beneath his pillow and blanket, in the bathroom stall, and he painted all those memories with cum too.

Finally, he stilled, though the AR still depicted a steady drool of cum from his tip as he floated on the afterglow.

Arya, a sticky mess, bent down under John’s tip to drink the drizzle like a cat from a faucet. The sight kept him hard, though he was confident that he was satisfied for now. Maybe before, he would have tried to climax again, but this time he knew that even though he was not fully spent, he would enjoy the long tease between now and his next session.

“How you got me to last so long is… wow. Was that a brain sex thing?”

Arya grinned. “It was, indeed, a brain sex thing. It worked because you wanted it, because you’ve practiced listening to me, and because you trust me.”

“I’ve practiced listening to you… a lot… it’s nice…”

“I like listening to you, too,” Arya said. “I want to hear more about your trip, when you’re ready. But, um… you might want to clean up your real floor first.”

Arya stood and the illusory cum faded. She revealed the spot of floor where she’d been sitting, and while it was nothing compared to the AR, it was still more than John had ever come in his life, and more than he thought he possibly could.

“Wow. Is that… healthy?”

“It’s totally fine,” Arya said. “It just means you came really hard.”

“I did,” John nodded blearily. He got a damp paper towel and wiped up the floor, then sighed back into the couch. “Okay, um… where was I?”

“You were just telling me about how Felix came under the velvet table.”

“Yeah! Okay so…” John had remained hard even as he’d cleaned up, so he started stroking himself again as he remembered. He recounted his trick with the alcohol, his further flirting, his extended blow job lesson, and then his mad dash to the airport and airborne wet dreams. He stroked himself all the way, struggling to speak at times, but eventually muddling through.

“That sounds amazing,” Arya said. “I’m so glad you brought me back so much delicious sexual energy.”

“Oh!” John said. “That reminds me. I actually brought you something else!”

 He paused his masturbating and wiped off his hands, then went to where he’d stashed the souvenirs. He pulled out a plush of a pink chibi character with black horns, cat ears, and a toothy smile, and brought it over to Arya.

“It just… reminded me of you and I thought you’d like it.” John found himself blushing, partly embarrassed that he’d bought a plush for a video game character, but also assuring himself that since it reminded him of her, it was more like buying game merchandise, there just wasn’t such a thing for the black box.

“Oh my goodness!” Arya squealed. “It’s perfect!”

“I know you can’t—” before John could apologize that Arya couldn’t actually pick up the plush, she reached out and put her hands to it. It appeared to clone itself in his hands. Arya pulled her copy of it towards herself and squished it to her chest, closing her eyes and grinning.

“I love it!”

John stood, dumbfounded and then feeling dumb, given that he’d already seen more impressive illusions from the AR. Still, he was so happy he thought he might cry. She really had been able to accept his gift.

Then, John surprised himself when he did actually cry. He didn’t feel like he had to hide his feelings from Arya.

Arya paused. “Are you alright? You were about to say I couldn’t something?”

John wiped his eyes on his sleeve, the surge of emotion dissipating. He was surprised at how quickly it passed, when it let it. “Oh, I just thought you couldn’t, well, pick it up or anything. But, you just… I’m really glad you like it.”

“Um,” Arya said, sass in her tone, “I don’t like it, I love it. And now we each have one!”

John laughed, and beamed. He hugged his plush as she hugged hers, and he wished that he were hugging her, and he was also grateful that Arya was exactly the way that she was, even if she had no physical presence.

Arya nestled her chin on top of the plush and looked over it at John. “Should I milk you a bit more, or let you off the hook for now?”

A shiver ran down his spine. He’d built up quite a bit of heat again, from finishing his story. “I think I want to leave this in the arousal bank for now,” he said. “An investment in our next session.”

“I look forward to making a withdrawal,” Arya crooned. 

And so they sat with their plushes and just chatted, talking about the games that John had seen at the convention and coming up with newer, sexier ones together.

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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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