She had no idea he was following her, but his footsteps had been in hers for a while. With each stride, he breathed in the delicate scent of her entire being and that whetted his appetite. The wind flowing through her long golden hair made it sway. Her skirt heaved with each step, revealing her bare thighs, arousing him, validating his choice. It was her, not another, that he had chosen today.
On the phone call for a moment, she was a million miles away from thinking she was the prey of the devil himself, a little snack he wanted to treat himself to.
He had always taken advantage of women's sleep to taste their flesh. Some had already seen him, in dreams, in his true form. His body was covered with a red colored skin, goat horns adorned his forehead and long canines accentuated his broad smile. They all said the same thing: The beast is terrifying, but although he was a monster, a cross between a man and an animal, he nonetheless remained a fascinating vision of power and virility.
He was a bit bored of sneaking into women's bed during the night. He now enjoyed turning a mortal out of her way, seeing the desire in her eyes to submit to him in broad daylight. He blended with the population, borrowing the physique of a man, adapting to his preys by appearing to them in the shape of their preference. All he had to do was to choose, bewitch and take without even having to ask.
She walked into a coffee shop, ordered a latte, then sat down at a table. He watched her behind the window. The few men already there were looking at her with a shyness the devil knew to take advantage of. He made up his mind to enter when she opened her laptop and started typing on her keyboard. And rather than sitting at an empty table, he pulled the chair out in front of her and sat on it.
She looked up her round glasses. The desire for the beast only increased at the sight of her scarlet mouth. She was about to say something but restrained herself, seeing in front of her the image of all her desires combined. She began to write again, without a word for him. He saw the speed at which her pulse was pounding in her neck and he smiled. His eyes gazed at the ring on her left hand, one of the reasons he chose her.
― Do you have enough room? she said.
She was staring at her computer, almost embarrassed to disturb when the contrary was true. The beast could hear her desire in the almost imperceptible fluctuations in her voice.
― I do have enough room, he said. And the best view.
Her eyes opened wide. She quietly laughed. Finding the situation funny, she grabbed her cell phone and texted her best friend. When she put it back on the table, he then asked:
― Are you waiting for someone?
― Yes. Yes I do.
She preferred to lie. She played with her promise ring on her finger, to let him know he was wasting his time. But her lie was a little sin that stirred the envy of the beast even more. He had overheard her conversation on the phone earlier. He knew she was planning to stay in the coffee shop all afternoon to work.
She was pressing random keys on her keyboard, pretending to be busy for a minute already. This man troubled her. Since her eyes had fallen on him, she had only wanted one thing: for him to adress her again.
Understanding her distress, the devil began to play. He stared at her silently, leaving her in control for a few moments longer, like playing with a fish on the end of a line. She felt her heart speed up, her stomach tingling. Not only he looked interested, but she understood that she maybe was a little too. She raised her coffee to her lips and the beast stared her mouth.
― It's such a great day. Why staying indoors? he said. Wouldn't you rather join me outside?
He was impatient. She put her hands in front of her to tell him she wasn't interested, and this time she pointed to her promise ring.
― I’m taken, she said.
The choice of words made him smile. She was navigating between wanting to know more and wanting to send him off. The man had woken up a thirst she had not felt for a long time. She knew she was putting herself in danger, but an almost uncontrollable urge drove her to stay there, under the gaze of this stranger. Had she ever seen him in a dream? She had made up her mind to defy him with her eyes when her phone rang. She picked up immediately and answered quietly. "No, I'm at the cafe with Emilie. I won't come home late, I promise. See you soon. Love ya!"
This second lie excited Satan even more than the previous one. The prospect of her sweet little fingers running on his body made him shudder.
― Did you just lie to your fiancé? he said.
He’s got some nerve! But the way he spoke to her, as if he sensed what was going on inside her, made her desire rise. She knew that little tug, that exquisite warmth in the pit of her stomach so well. She crossed her legs and doing so, touched the devil's knee with her foot. Satan grabbed it and stroked the top of it with his thumb. She didn't move, she let him do it, bewitched by so much gentleness. Satan's eyes turned black. His fingers moved slowly up her ankle. She watched him do it in silence, panting. His hand ventured higher, on her calf. She held her breath, then the red lips parted. He continued his way up to the back of her knee. He let his fingers wander over the back of her thigh. She gave a slight start but her lower lip found itself behind her pretty teeth. He stroked her for a moment, feeling the appetite in her beautiful brown eyes. She closed them for a brief second, enough for him to know she would surrender.
He gently rested her foot on the ground.
― I'll be at a cocktail party until 8 p.m. tonight, he said, Hotel Drakkar, if you want to see me again.
She would have answered that this was the last time he would see her, but he got up and left the cafe without letting her the chance to do so.
They watched a movie while dining. She was chewing, her eyes riveted on the face of the clock.
She thought of an excuse to go out at 8PM without her fiancé getting suspicious. She thought of putting Emilie in the know. When everything was going well in her life, why thinking about this stranger? She thought about while stroking her ankle, as if to relive the moment. What had he felt under his fingers as he came up like that? A familiar feeling was dawning in her flesh. She remembered the intensity of his gaze, his warm voice, his delicate manners. Just thinking about what could happen if she went to this hotel made her cheeks go pink. She picked up her phone and pretended to read something.
― Emilie needs her computer charger, she forgot it at the coffee shop. I have it.
― Can she come get it?
― Wait, I ask her...
She pretended to send messages back and forth.
― She said she's already in her pjs.
― I can go, it won't take long.
― Still… 30 minutes to go, 30 minutes to come back…
― I don’t mind, really.
The more she lied, the more shame came over her. He was giving her the chance to put an end to this little game, but she persisted.
― Up to you! he finally said, sealing his fate in a few words without knowing it.
She didn't want to spend too much time in the bathroom for him not to think she was preparing for someone else. She put on her boots and left the apartment right after. As she passed by a car, she glanced at her reflection in the window and judged herself. Why wasn't it enough for her to fantasize about this man? Why did she want to put her whole life in jeopardy? He's at the hotel, he's just passing through, he will probably never come back, I will bury this secret with me, she told herself to feel better. She checked the time on her phone.
She jumped into the subway car. She thought everyone could read on her face what she was about to do. She blindly followed the desire to feel this man deep inside her. His dark eyes full of sins haunted her. She looked at her phone screen again and contemplated updating Emilie. Her friend would surely understand if she explained everything to her. But what was there to tell exactly? That she was about to give herself to a man she didn't know a few hours ago? It's not even love at first sight, just a visceral, inexplicable urge to give herself to him.
Little did she know then that few could resist the devil, let alone when he had set his sights on you. He used pernicious strings. When he decided to mate, nothing could resist him except those who dedicated their lives to God, but again, he already had successfully deflected some of them from their paths.
The hotel was there, right in front of the subway exit. The black letters of the word Drakkar seemed to invite her in.
Surely, the cocktail was over. Should I join him in the room? she thought. The hotel doors opened as she approached. The lobby was majestic. The white and black marbled tiling glistened in the light of the gigantic chandeliers which descended straight from a ceiling three or four meters high. In the distance, large armchairs were occupied by business people chatting, glass in hand. She approached the reception counter and asked where the cocktail party was being held and if she could attend. The receptionist asked her name.
― Odessa Persa. I'm probably not on the list.
― No, you are not, however, I have a message for you.
How could she have a message? How could he know her name when she hadn't given it to him?
The receptionist handed her a magnetic card, which read "Use this for the elevator. Room 500, come in and make yourself at home."
― Are you sure it's for me? she asked.
― He’s expecting you there.
He had no doubt she would come, which added to her shame. She rushed into the elevator and beeped the key card. She was suddenly afraid of what she might find in that room. The doors opened into a gigantic suite with the smell of leather and the temperature a little too high. She was surprised she had fallen directly into a living room. She recognized, despite the dim light, the jacket thrown casually on a chair. She walked in timidly. A drum beat much slower than her heart was playing on the radio. When the singer's voice appeared, she immediately recognized Closer. He chose this song, she thought, it can't be a coincidence.
The light source came from four bronze candlesticks, set around a large four-poster bed. At the sight of the red satin sheets, she told herself there was no way it was the hotel choice. She was entering his home, before he entered hers…
― I’ve got no soul to sell, he hummed behind her.
His deep – even whispered – voice was easily identifiable. She turned to find him in front of her, in a tuxedo, tie loose, shirt slightly open, sporting a satisfied smile.
― Ah… that pretty skirt…
He looked even more impressive by the candlelight than earlier in the coffee shop. The features of his face were accentuated, the sparkle in his eyes more evident. He looked at her, amused by her silence. It was impossible, but there was a certain aura about him that she thought she had seen somewhere before.
― You seem lost my dear, hold this for me.
He handed her a glass of champagne, which she nearly dropped, then walked over to place a gentle kiss on her neck. The irresistible warmth of his lips against her skin signed her downfall. He grabbed her ass to pull her back to him and she couldn't hold back a small cry. He stuck his tongue into her mouth, mixing his saliva with hers. Her head began to spin and she dropped the glass of champagne. Succumbing to the temptation was much more intense than she imagined, she felt desire deep in the pit of her stomach.
― Anyone know you're here? he said between two hungry breaths
She shook her head.
― You lied to him?
A small yes escaped her mouth. Her confession made Satan growl with pleasure. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing and put her on the bed. She couldn't take her eyes off the huge bulge in his pants. He was taking his time, removing his shirt and gazing at the thirst in his prey's eyes. She straightened up to touch his chest, so firm, then hastily undid his belt. She wanted him inside her right away. The devil watched her do it. Her impatience delighted him. She plunged her hand in his pants, not taking the time to undress him and pulled his cock out. It stretched out to the sky, sturdy and imposing. Her eyebrows rose and her lower abdomen began to boil. She slid her panties to her feet, lay on the bed then pulled her legs up.
― Take me! Take me please, she begged, consumed by passion.
Seeing her sex offered, the beast stepped forward, grabbing his cock with a steady hand. That tip pointed at her was full of promise, she wanted to feel it deep inside her. She looked up at the ceiling and saw a large mirror there. At first she thought she was mistaken. She blinked to make sure. The reflection was of a huge being with red skin. Fear stifled her scream. Used to seeing panic in women's eyes, he used a very calm tone.
― I mean no harm to you, my dear, quite the contrary.
Her eyes moved back and forth between the reflection in the mirror and the man in front of her who turned her on so much. He approached his long fingers and slid them slowly down her slit. She didn't move back, as if fascinated by the situation.
― If you don't like my original appearance, he said while thrusting his middle finger into her, just stare at my eyes.
He moved his finger slowly back and forth. The feeling was so good she almost passed out. She looked up to see his real appearance again. She wanted to see who really touched her. She saw the horns, the disproportionate body compared to hers. And as he continued to pleasure her, her fear dissipated and a very strange desire arose. The image was starting to look attractive to her.
As he knelt down to tuck his head between her thighs, she held him back.
― I want to see you, she said. To really see you.
― Are you sure?
She nodded yes.
― Close your eyes.
Eyes closed, she suddenly became aware of the speed at which her heart was beating. The devil was not a myth, he was not a dream, he was very real, he was between her legs. She was suddenly seized with a voracious need.
She opened her eyes again and saw him in front of her. He was often painted with the head of an animal, but only his horns and teeth made him look bestial. His fiery gaze hadn't changed, neither had his smile. His build was strong and the size of his hands had almost doubled. He passed one over her to make sure of his desire and found her wet.
― Oh dear, he said playfully, your offered body makes me very happy.
She straightened up and touched the deep red body in front of her with her fingertips, as if to convince herself she was not dreaming.
― You are…, she said.
Her hand passed gently over the bumps of his muscles.
The nerve endings in the pads of her fingers seemed to be magnified. She timidly touched the base of his massive cock.
― … beautiful, she said, looking him straight in the eyes.
She too, like so many others, had used those words. A milky drop beaded at the end of his cock. She walked over to taste it. He watched her do it, as she grabbed him with both hands, licked him, and then move her pretty little red mouth around it. She looked so fragile at his feet, but so perverse. She would glance at him every now and then, checking to see if she was doing the right thing. He wasn't showing anything, but the firmness of his testicles was a testament to the pleasure she gave him. She got up and lay down on her back, legs spread in front of him.
― Have mercy, she said. Eat me!
Of all things that could arouse him, begging him like he was merciful was his favorite. He knelt down, grabbed his prey's thighs with his giant hands, and stuck his tongue into her flesh. She grabbed his horns and pulled him deeper. Satan's tongue searched her, tasting her walls with relish. She felt his fangs against her skin.
― Oh yes… bite me…
He nibbled at her and she began to roll her hips, full of furious urges. Seeing her pleasure heightened the devil's desire. He wanted to take her, but he wanted her to beg him to do so. And he didn't have to wait long.
― Pierce me! she moaned.
He took her slim waist in his hands and pushed his cock inside her.
She thought he was tearing her apart. Seeing the devil roar above her turned her on so much that very quickly, he slipped through her to the hilt without any pain.
Each of his movements multiplied the pleasure of the previous one. The devil felt it and redoubled his efforts, rippling on her, going to seek the pleasure of the young woman as much as his own. Their eyes never left each other. They were both agitated with debauchery, determined to achieve ecstasy. The pleasure started from the depths of their stomach. She felt her muscles tighten, the sensation spiking. Intense heat filled her body. She savored an electric shock running down her spine to the top of her scalp. It was as if their bodies were one. She could feel the devil's pleasure as much as hers. She knew pleasure, but this was different. As her orgasm lasted, all the cells in her body enjoyed Satan's at the same time. She understood the look on his face, his lost eyes, the movements he made inside her. Without being able to explain it, she could hear him in her head. He was moaning, telling her all kinds of obscenities. She communicated to him all the lustful thoughts that crossed her mind. She wanted the devil to flood her. Seeing her so docile and hearing her deep turpitude excited him more than reason. He burst into her so eagerly she could feel the jets. A surprisingly cold liquid slid between them. In excitement, Satan bit her shoulder. He planted his canines into her flesh. Oddly enough, the bite sent her into a euphoric intoxication. She wanted him to eat her whole.
Little by little their orgasms wore off.
She regained consciousness when he left her body. Looking at his cock, she wondered how she had been able to welcome it. Satan returned to his human form as she was turning her back to him, pulling her skirt back on.
There was something about Odessa that left Satan hungry. Usually, after his business was done, he would feel full and he would only go on a second round at the behest of his victim. But the feeling in his lower abdomen was atypical. He thought he had bewitched her but seeing her getting ready to leave, he wondered if it wasn't her who had cast a spell on him.
She checked the time on her phone.
It was impossible that only 4 minutes had passed from entering the hotel until now. Although this tiny lapse of time suited her, she couldn't explain it.
Satan put his finger on the screen.
8:04 ― 8:03 ― 8:02 ― 8:01…
She looked up, surprised, wondering if the time only went back on her phone.
― What time would be best? he said.
He wasn't doing it for her. He didn't care if her relationship would survive her weakness. He was doing it for him, for her to feel she could easily come back.
She did a brief mental calculation.
He smiled, put his finger down again and the clock read 7:30.
She put on her boots and left immediately, without looking back. Satan watched her go, his stomach hot with desire.
She arrived home at 7.46am. Barely a minute after going out.
― Did you forget something? said her fiancé.
She put down her bag, took off her boots and joined him in the living room.
― Emilie doesn't need it right away, I'll bring her back tomorrow in the end.
A full week passed. Odessa thought about meeting the devil with every passing minute, from the moment she opened her eyes in the morning. She watched her fiancé sleep with the feeling that he would never be able to please her the way the devil did. It was impossible. She fantasized during the day and before falling asleep at night. And at night, she dreamed of him.
And then no longer holding it, she wanted to make sure he hadn’t dreamt it. She sent a message to her fiancé. "I’m at a retirement party at work, I’ll try not to leave too late."
She wanted to give herself an alibi, even though time didn't matter much if she ran into him again.
She arrived at the Drakkar and introduced herself to the reception.
Realizing she did not know the name of the one who tormented her so much, she asked if the person occupying the 500 suite last Saturday was still there.
― There is no room 500 in this hotel, miss.
― What do you mean? The girl gave me a card for that room last week.
― Are you sure it was our hotel?
― Yes, I’m quite sure.
― All our receptionists are male.
Beginning to question her own sanity, she turned to verify that it was indeed the same hall. And she was positive.
― There was a cocktail party that day, she said like a question.
The two receptionists looked at her without saying a word. Determined to prove them wrong, she hastily took the stairwell.
― Miss! they shouted behind her.
But no one followed her. She went up the stairs two by two. A floor. Then two. Then three. Then nothing.
The hotel had only three floors. She hurtled down the stairs, almost spraining her ankle, then swam out, stood in front of the building, and looked up. She counted the floors visually. She shook her head, thinking she was going mad.
At last, an idea popped into her head.
She pushed open the coffee shop door. And there, in the corner, sitting in an armchair, one leg crossed over the other, reading a newspaper, she found him.
She sat down across from him.
― How? she said quietly to him.
He straightened up and refrained from saying the first words that came to his mind. Seeing her here delighted him.
― You were looking for me? he said.
They both knew very well, deep down, why she was looking for him. But she also felt it wasn't entirely her fault.
― You called me, she dared.
The devil moistened his lips.
― I didn't call you. But it is true that responding to a desire is a form of psychic communication.
She didn't know what to say, what to do. Seeing her dismay, and hearing her thoughts, the devil put her on the track.
― I am ready to offer you what you are looking for. But know that you will not be able to come back.
― What are you talking about?
He looked down at her, eyeing her as if she was naked in front of him.
― You want to see darkness, right? See what's going on, on the other side.
The thought had indeed crossed Odessa's mind. But it was just a fantasy, nothing more.
― Yes, there are orgies, he replied.
He could hear everything. She tried to clear her mind, but the face in front of her prevented it.
― Yes, the darkness is full of demons who can give you all the pleasures, even that of course.
She blushes with shame. He was penetrating her deepest secret thoughts.
― If this is what you are looking for, then there is no better place to satisfy you.
― But you were saying I couldn't come back?
He shook his head.
― Not without selling your soul, I’m afraid.
His eyes opened wide. She hadn't come to die stupidly for a one night stand, even if extraordinary.
― And what will happen, when my soul belongs to you?
― Then you will have please me for all eternity, whether you like it or not.
He knew how to use words to charm her, he knew what she wanted to hear. It didn’t sound as bad, did it? Images of the devil enjoying her presence and irresistible demons using her body appeared in her thoughts. Knowing that greater pleasures existed, that they were within her reach, made the decision simple.
― And to get in, what will I have to do?
― Oh that, he said, don’t worry about a thing.
He felt her impatience and if he wasn't in this coffee shop, among mortals, he would have roared his excitement.
― Follow me.
She would have followed him with her eyes closed if asked. She now wanted to see the darkness more than anything else in the world. He stood up and she followed him. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought for a moment he was killing her right there. She knew he could hear her and couldn't resist telling him everything she wanted him to do to her. She was already wet just thinking about it. He led her down a small alley and pushed a door open. They found themselves in the lobby of a building. She leaned against the wall.
― Right now. I want you, she begged.
He resisted her pressing demand. He had to find a place where no one would notice them during their travel. Their bodies would stay and do each other good in the mortal world, but if she wanted to visit darkness then their souls would have to leave them during their journey. He knocked on the first door he found. No one answered, so he forced the lock and they entered the apartment. Judging by the lack of decor and furnishings, the apartment had been a squat for a while. She didn't understand why he needed a place like this one, but her need was far too great to waste time asking him.
"The demons" she said to him in thought, "I want you, and demons, at the same time."
He laughed out loud and made her sit on an old sofa in the middle of an almost empty living room. She couldn't hold it any longer, she took off her clothes and found herself naked the second later. She climbed onto the dilapidated sofa with her back to him, offering her ass to the devil.
― Take me, oh… Take me…
He was amused to see her even hungrier than him. He undressed himself, taking his time and playing with her nerves. He placed his cock at the entrance of her hole and pushed it all the way. She moaned her satisfaction.
He came to lean against her, holding her stomach.
― Take me to the darkness…, she moaned.
He placed his hand in front of Odessa's eyes and bit her neck. She felt herself leave as if her whole body was falling forward. His fangs had sunk into her flesh but the bite did not cause any pain, quite the contrary, she felt like an orgasm as her body grew heavier and heavier.
Suddenly, her skin felt a clammy heat. When he pulled his hand away from her eyes, she knew it was real. He had taken her with him, she was in darkness. She couldn't see two meters away. Her eyes needed a moment to get used to the lack of light. Only a few candles attached to the wall helped her distinguish the nothing that surrounded them. The walls around her were seeping, carved into the rock. She was on her knees on a dirt floor. There was a smell of damp earth. And instead of scaring her, the darkness aroused all her senses. As if to soak it up, she brought her body down to the ground, where the dust stuck to her skin.
He watched her move her naked body on his ground with a satisfied grin. Seeing her enjoying his lair excited him. When she turned, the devil stood before her, majestic, naked, red skin and horns glistening with sweat, his cock outstretched.
― Where are your demons? she said.
― They are everywhere, I just have to invite them.
― Can you invite two of them?
The devil's gaze grew fiery. His prey's thoughts were lustful, and since they affected him just as much he validated them as they came.
Two male demons with chiseled faces appeared, almost equal in every way. Twins?
― Here are Nezrel and Zakhal, said Satan.
They were less statuesque than their master but their bodies were as attractive as in her fantasies. So much so that she wondered if the devil hadn't created them from scratch after one of her thoughts. Their curved penises were already the center of her attention. Not knowing if her time was running out, she pressed Nezrel to lie on his back. She admired his body for a moment, stroking it up and down with her fingertips as she watched the desire she created in his dark eyes. She stepped over him and impaled herself on him. She took his hands and placed them on either side of her ass before moving back and forth on his body.
― Take her mouth, ordered the devil to Zakhal.
Zakhal walked over to the couple, took Odessa's face in his hands and tilted her head back. She indulged in the softness of his tongue, his honey-tasting saliva as her body rubbed nicely back and forth over Nezrel.
The devil, who knew Odessa's fantasies, allowed himself to be seduced by the show in front of him and ordered again:
― Zakhal, take her from behind.
The demon's mouth left her and he placed himself behind her. She leaned forward against Nezrel to let his twin enter her from behind, her eyes locked on the devil, as if to thank him for complying with her perverted wishes. He looked at her enviously, his tongue passing over his lips. Zakhal entered her and snatched a soft moan from her. The two demons started to stir inside her, their limbs moving back and forth against each other, separated only by a thin wall of flesh. Skewered by two sumptuous creatures determined to please her under the eyes of Satan, she felt like the Mistress of the World. The devil was thrilled to see her thus bathed in sin, letting pure lust controlling her body. This simple thought overwhelmed him.
Caught between two demons who knew their role well, it did not take long for her to come. Satan came to stand in front of her, stiff as a rock.
― Now come, he said, and show me your tongue.
She did so, knowing it would satisfy him. She felt delicious spasms from the muscles around Zakhal. The sensation spread like fire to her clit, which rubbed against Nezrel. Satan, hearing her utter little cries placed the tip of his cock on Odessa's tongue. She was already lost in her pleasure and this gesture tipped her over the edge. Satan unloaded into the mouth of the young woman. She indulged in the various movements made on her body, taken like a rag doll in the arms of demons.
Exhausted by so much pleasure, she found herself naked, on the ground, the following minute. She was catching her breath when Satan asked her if she wanted to return to the mortals world. Her head clouded by this new experience, she didn't really take the time to think about it before answering.
― Let me take care of some things, and then come get me.
― Are you sure? The roles will be very different. You will be the one to fulfill my desires and those of the demons.
― Give me two days and I am yours.
The devil did not hide his contentment and roared so loud that the earth beneath Odessa's body shook. In causing an innocent young lady to lose her sanity, lust won out over purity once again.
She should have taken the time to think. But, still high from her orgasm, she couldn’t resist the thought of being held like that once again.
As promised, Satan sent her back to Earth for two days.
Once among the mortals, the excitement subsided. She had time to think and was not so sure about anything anymore. Did she really want to spend her life in this dark place, as a sex slave? Forever? To leave her life and fiancé?
On the first night, learning about her doubts, Satan appeared in her dream, reminding her a deal with the devil is non negotiable. But he didn’t want her to hesitate about the whole thing either. He wanted, for once, to possess someone who would come willingly.
Something about her had softened his ways.
So he sent her a little fantasy of his own in the dream. It was so vivid she woke up caressing herself, her limbs quivering, savoring the most intense orgasm.
Time ran out. And there was nothing she could do to change her fate. She put everything in place to make it look like she was running away with a lover, fabricating clues and leaving them here and there for her fiancé to discover. She knew he was going to hurt, so she did everything she could to make him hate her so much he would want to soon forget about her.
At dawn, on the second day, the devil returned to fetch her, as planned. It was when she saw him again standing in front of her that she knew she had made the right choice.
He didn't have to use any force to get her to disappear with him on the other side, forever.
Two fingers were enough...
© Tous droits réservés - Charlie M.P. - 20/12/2021
I just finished my studies in Fine Arts. I don't really want to work right away, I want to have a little fun for a few months, painting, sculpting, creating, going out with friends... But my father has decided otherwise. Living at his house means I have to abide by his rules.
He spoke to a friend of his who owns an Art gallery in town, who agreed to take me on trial for two months.
When I arrive at the Gallery, no one is here. The glass doors are closed. I wait for a few minutes and walk around to see if there is a door in the back. I notice a dark blue sedan in the parking lot. There is indeed a door, I knock.
After a little while the door swings open and my father's friend appears.
— Marion, I’m so sorry, he says. I didn’t notice the time. Come in!
I did not remember him by his name but I now recognize his face. He has been to our house before. He looks a little nervous, trying to get me in fast, rushing things. I can tell he usually works alone and is just doing my dad a favour.
We pass through a corridor full of bubble wrapped paintings and crates filled with polystyrene chips.
— Do you want some coffee? he says.
— Yes, sure.
He invites me to sit down, once in the kitchen. There is a very small table, two chairs, a counter with a sink, a microwave and a coffee machine.
He grabs an upturned mug from the drying rack next to the sink.
— Sugar? Milk?
— Both please. Thank you.
He does this all very quickly as if he was more nervous than me and somehow it calms me down. He hands me the coffee and sits down across from me. The way he dresses reminds me of my contemporary art teacher a little bit. He uses some touches of colour men of his age wouldn't dare wearing. My parents were young when they had me, so he must not be that old, but in his forties nonetheless.
— I remember you, I say. You came to visit before. I must have been in high school at the time.
— Yes, I spent a lot more time with your father a few years ago.
He looks at me like he’s just discovering my face, perhaps trying to remember the young girl I was.
— So, I say. What are we doing today?
— I received a collection from a young Bulgarian artist, Dragomir Stoyanov. Magnificent paintings, full of small details, a very tasteful dark palette.
— What's his series called?
— The 8 Deadly Sins
— Eight? What’s the 8th?
— Well, it'll be interesting if you tell me what you think. We'll hang them up today and we’ll see if you can guess.
A few minutes later, we’re on the floor, unpacking the paintings with utmost care.
— Oh, but these are not the original seven sins! I say.
— No, these are more modern sins.
I unwrap "hatred", "opulence", "injustice", "jealousy", and he "frenzy", "impatience", "hypocrisy" and a mirror.
— I know! I say.
— The eight one is so obvious! The mirror! It's narcissism.
He looks at me mischievously. By the look on his face, I know that’s not it. Too simple? Rookie's mistake?
The gallery is a square space with a wall that divides the rooms in two. I help him attach the 8th sin – the mirror – on one side of the dividing wall. He gives the stepladder to setup the hooks on one side of the room while he takes care of the opposite side.
Every now and then I glance in his direction from the top of the stepladder. He presses his index finger against his lips as he pulls back to check if the painting is askew. I find the sound of his shoes coming and going on the floor quite soothing.
— Do you ever put music on when you work? I ask.
He looks up at me from the end of the room.
— One hand on the ladder, please!
He looks scared. I hold on.
— You can play some music if you want, there’s a little speaker you can plug into your phone over there.
I get off the stepladder and his eyes follow me until I disappear into the kitchen where I left my bag. Did he just look at me a certain way? Although he is almost twice my age, he is still a man, with desires, fantasies, and I’m not a little girl anymore. I find the speaker and plug it into my phone. Given the studious atmosphere, I decided to put on a LoFi playlist.
I come back into the room and he approaches as I put the phone on one of the pedestals.
— Not bad, he says enjoying the music. I like it.
I look up at him.
— That's what I used to listen to when studying. It helps me focus.
He looks at me kindly but there is a little bit more in his eyes, as if he was trying to keep his distances. So, as if to give him permission to relax in my presence, I put my hand on his arm.
— Come on, I say, these paintings aren’t gonna hang on their own!
We have to be so careful and we change our minds so many times about their best placement that we spend the entire day in that room. Two pots of coffee and a sandwich later, night has fallen. I help him print the last labels to add next to each artwork.
I cut out the last piece of paper, sitting next to him.
— You do an admirable job, he says. I am very pleased.
I carefully pass the paper through the sheets of plexiglass.
— I appreciate the care with which you do things.
His feedback feels the soul of the student I still am inside. I’ve always loved making my teachers happy. No idea why.
— Come on, he says while putting his arm behind my back, let's put ourselves in the shoes of the visitors, let's take a walk!
We start from the entrance door and stand in front of the first artwork for a moment, checking for any lighting issue, the placement of the labels, any typos… and truly admiring the work for the first time.
— See how quickly he painted this line? he says. So clever! Even in the brushstroke you can feel the frenzy.
I nod and watch him out of the corner of my eye. I don't know if it's because it's dark, if I'm just starting to get used to his presence, or his way of being captivated by the Art, but my heart is racing. He reminds me more and more of the teacher with whom there had been some flirtation.
He invites me to move on to the second painting, once again running his hand behind my back.
He does this for each of them, and each time that slight pressure against my spine gives me more delicious shivers that I begin to crave for. I always have had red patches on my neck and on my cheeks when I'm nervous, and I feel that particular heat right now on my skin. I hide my neck as best I can and avoid turning to him as much as possible. Even with the dim light, he could notice it.
We finally come to the mirror, next to which there is no label, as per the Artist demand.
— So? he says. Do you still think it's narcissism?
I watch his reflection tell me that, then I look at mine. He clearly can't miss my condition now, and it makes me blush even more if that’s even possible.
He comes stand behind me and looks at us in the mirror.
To feel him so close, watching me, is as intimidating as it is turning me on. He leans into my ear.
— Hum... If it's not narcissism then...
I can't think. His breath in my neck disturbs me too much. I can sense now in his tiny movements that he's excited, and seeing him like that in the mirror affects me. I never did anything with my teacher, but he was the source of many fantasies. I've always been drawn to older men who teach me things, who know what they want. And it turns out my new boss won’t be an exception. Seeing him in this state, in the reflection, undressing me with his eyes, creates a desire so strong that I grab his hand and place it in front of my neck, a few inches away, as if I wanted him to cover my redness from his sight.
He remains silent, looking at our image. He doesn't dare touch me. He lowers his hand, hovering over my breast. I read the envy in his eyes, in mine too. The fact that he doesn't touch me makes my body even more alert. Now, I see myself unbuttoning my blouse, a button, one by one, until I take it off completely. He remains silent but his breathing speaks for him. In my bra, in front of him, he could see how fast my heart is beating. He leans into my neck and breath in my skin.
His gaze returns to the mirror and I lower my straps, one by one, and pull my bra down to reveal my breasts. He runs both hands in front of me, barely touching my pointed nipples.
I look at him in the reflection and push his hands against me. He takes a deep breath. I am in a trance. Feeling his skin against mine, in such an intimate place...
He removes his hands quickly.
— I'm sorry, he says. I don't know what’s gotten into me.
I'm not moving. Neither is he behind my back. He looks at my breasts in the reflection. In silence, I undo the zipper of my pants, and I let them slide down my legs. He closes his mouth, which opened in surprise.
I run a slow hand under my pink lace, looking him straight in the eye. This image pleases me. It is innocent but kinky. I see myself doing all this and my pleasure goes up. I'm turning this man on, this man who tries to hold back, who tries to do the right thing. I want him to lose his mind.
I run a finger through my slit, imagining his hand instead of mine. He's dazed. He exhales behind my back, so close to ignore his fine principles...
My hand bustles under the lace and a moan escape my lips.
— Mr. Edevane... I say in a whisper.
— You beautiful creature, what do you want from me?
He looks so lost, so deliciously lost. I take his hand and plunge it under mine. He sighs behind my back.
To feel this respectable man's fingers quickly making their way through my skin drives me crazy. He loses his face in my neck.
I run my hand behind my back and find his hard cock in his pants. I stroke it through the fabric as he ventures to penetrate me with a finger.
— Hm… Mr Edevane… I want more…
— Anything you want. Anything at all. Tell me.
I lower his zipper.
— Are you sure? He says.
I answer with a nod. He then takes his cock out of his pants and presses his erection against my butt. I pass my hand over it, stroking it.
— My god, he says. What are we doing?
The reflection in the mirror electrifies me. Seeing him completely lost turns me on so much.
I lower my underwear, stand on tiptoe and point his cock against my vagina.
— You temptress..., he murmurs.
He pushes inside me all the way up. We see in the mirror how this simple movement affected our faces. And he starts thrusting into me like crazy, not taking his eyes off mine for a second, gripping my breasts. He moans his pleasure in my ear. He puts his hand back in my laces and begins rubbing his fingers quickly against my clit.
— Marion, Marion, Marion…, he repeats. Come for me.
He didn't have to ask, I feel my muscles contracting around him, a loud moan bursts out of my mouth. He continues to stir inside me, as I exhaust my pleasure on his cock and on his hand. He feels and sees my pleasure distorting my face.
— Damn... You look so hot when you come!
And suddenly, as my spasms start to slow down and a feeling of calmness washes over me, his mouth opens wide.
He punctuates each of his releases with a half-thought, completely mechanical “fuck!”. And seeing him like that drives me crazy. I rub myself against him, forcing him to finish it all in my body. He gives me a last thrust, squeezing both my breasts in his palms and biting my neck passionately.
We look at our reflection, breathless. We see each other without seeing each other. I feel him pull out slowly. His pleasure drips down my thighs.
I turn to him, pulling my underwear and my pants up, my breasts still showing.
— I… I don't know what to say, he says, trying his best to look into my eyes.
— Don’t worry. I won't say a word.
He turns me around to face the mirror again.
— This piece, he says, the artist called it "Shamelessness". Maybe knowing that encouraged me a little bit... I was out of line. I won't do it again, I promise.
— Don't promise things I don't want you to promise. Let's do it again, in the name of Art.
© Tous droits réservés - Charlie M.P. - 14/11/2021
This story was written as part of an exercise. To my regular readers: this is more porn than erotica. Should be back to normal after that. :)
The online ad read "For those who aren’t afraid of the Darkness"; nothing more.
Lisa had promised her parents that she would find a job in the capital in less than a month. That deadline was getting close so she made an appointment for an interview the same day. She put the odds on her side by putting on a sober pencil skirt that covered her knees. A friend had told her men appreciate the effort and women find it chic.
A handful of candidates were leaving when she presented herself at the door. In front of her, a panel of two people, a man and a woman. She had more questions for them than the other way around. The duration of the contract? The schedule? The compensation? And above all, what would that mysterious work consist of. The surprising answer prompted a lot more questions.
After an hour of interview, she left with a signed contract. Lisa's parents wouldn't understand. She told them that she had found a job in finance and they were pleased with the good news.
This was a half lie. She was indeed going to work for finance, but her field would be service.
Working on the stock market is stressful. The company that hired her understood that and was looking for people who could help their employees to release some of the tension. They had noticed that making escorts available during business trips had a positive impact on the company's productivity, so they decided to go further and make it available at the workplace.
Lisa had never done that, and never even considered it, but when told that by contract she would be blindfolded for the sessions, she felt a familiar warmth between her thighs.
With a blindfold she would have a form of anonymity. She would be a body, appreciated, used, a magic doll that helps others. Her sexual appetite had always been great. She had hidden this side of her personality during the interview in order to negotiate her salary. They had fallen into the trap of this young girl freshly arrived from her deep countryside who seemed a little naive. She also didn’t tell them she sometimes let eager men penetrate her in the bathrooms of nightclubs for the fun of it.
She left the building with an envelope full of cash, with which she had been asked to buy herself some fine lingerie.
Not yet knowing what to expect, she headed for her first day at work with several outfits. She had been told that there would be a personal bathroom on site as well as a relaxing room where she could wait between sessions.
A woman greeted her, showed her where everything was. She told her that when she saw the red light come on in the room, she would have five minutes before the employee comes in, and a blue light would tell the employee they had five minutes left. Each meeting lasted fifteen minutes, which was the length of a regular work break. Employees were free to take advantage of it or not.
Down the hall were a dozen apartments like hers. Other men and women arrived at the same time to start their shift. She then understood the size of the company she was now part of.
— I'll only book two appointments for your first day, said the woman. If at any time you have a problem, press this button.
She pointed to it, very visible to those entering the room, like a visual reminder of the limits not to cross.
— When you press that button, the door opens automatically and we send two big guys.
All of this reassured Lisa, even though she herself hadn't even thought about her own safety.
The woman finally left her alone. Once the door closed behind her, she walked around the room. Not a single window, just a dim light. Not a single piece of furniture but cubic shapes covered with a layer of velvet, of different heights and widths, were coming out of the floor. If the color choice hadn't been so dark, we might be in a children's playroom. In the background, was a barely perceptible jazzy lounge music.
She imagined herself waiting for the first employee, kneeling on that pedestal in the middle of the room and her excitement rose. Salacious phrases filled her head. She wanted a patient right away. Her underwear was already wet just at the idea that a man, any man, could come use her body for a sweet release instead of masturbating like a thief in the bathrooms.
She went to freshen up, used a few fingers to calm her nerves. The orgasm she gave herself brought her stress level down and her mission became clear. She will help them all to continue their day in serenity. She was a saint, after all. Her body the receptacle of all the accumulated stress. They would enjoy, for a brief moment, the sweet sensation of her flesh around theirs.
She had almost dozed off on the lounge chair in her break room when the red light came on.
She covered her black lingerie with a red satin bathrobe to join the room, then she climbed on the central pedestal and blindfolded herself with the scarf provided by the company.
The five minutes felt very long. Deprived of sight, her only reference points were the surrounding noises, footsteps in the hallway, the heels, the distant conversations, the low music and now her own breathing which was going faster and faster.
And finally, the door opened and shut automatically. She took a quiet breath.
— You're the new girl, aren't you?
At his voice, she imagined him older. Then she heard him breathe hard. Perhaps a heavy build.
— It’s my first day, yes.
— Very pretty… Hmm… Very pretty. I’ll make sure to tell them I’m happy with this choice.
Without even knowing it, she found herself in front of one of the big bosses. He wanted to be the first one to honor all the new recruits of that service. He was indeed a little overweight, with greying hair and had always been known for his love of women, for wanting to possess them all.
She could hear the growing excitement in the employee's breathing. He ran his hand through Lisa's long hair.
— Would you like me to get up? she said.
— No, there, you are at perfect height.
— I'm so glad I can help you. What a difficult, stressful job you may have.
— Open your mouth.
She heard the appetite in his voice, in his breath, his impatience.
She imagined what he saw in front of him and wanted to offer more. She took off her silk robe before opening her lips. Her panties and garters now in front of his eyes, the man sighed.
— Good God! You look delicious… Unhook this thing!
She unhooked her bra and let it fall to the ground. Carried away by his desire, he stuck his head between her breasts. He kneaded them, licked them. For her, the feeling was much different than when choosing and seeing her partner, but it was far from being unpleasant. He nibbled at her nipples, panting, losing his breath in her flesh. She surprised herself by letting out a genuine moan.
— What a sweet little whore you are. I'm gonna put it so deep in you.
He stood up. She heard the opening of a zipper and the second that followed felt the man's cock between her breasts. With his hands, he brought them closer to better masturbate between them.
— Open your pretty mouth.
Lisa opened wide, tilting her head to her chest. He took her face in his hands and made sure his cock got lost inside the young woman's mouth.
— Oh…How docile you are...
His vices made his voice quiver. He sounded like he was already exhausted. Lisa tightened her lips around his cock, mentally visualizing the scene, finding herself so dirty for enjoying this boor. He was breathing hard, she knew he was already about to finish. He stopped right there and said after a deep breath to come and sit on his lap. He helped her off the pedestal and he sat down on it.
— Turn your back to me and come sit on my cock. Come quick, you sweet, slutty little thing.
She was not shocked by his language. She thought that maybe this man was a guy from accounting who didn't usually have the upper hand over anyone. She was excited to play the game to satisfy him to counter balance. She even caught herself dripping with desire. She pulled her thong to the side and sat on him. His cock slid effortlessly in her.
— My beautiful little whore, he huffed.
He nibbled her neck, kissed her, bit her like a mad man. She was unsure whether she has supposed to talk to the employees or not. She wanted to tell him how much she enjoyed it.
— Look at what you’re doing, huh! Offering yourself to men you don’t even see! You like giving yourself to strangers? You like my big, fat cock, don’t you!
He actually wasn’t that big, but she couldn’t care less since he seemed to be quite confident about it. She liked to please and she couldn't answer any other way than by telling the truth, her body betraying her anyways.
— I like it, very much.
— Bend over, I wanna see you better.
She leaned forward, wiggling over him as best she could. But he took control and, two hands gripping her hips, swung her back and forth on him vigorously.
— Your little pussy is so wet and you don’t even know who I am!
She felt his cock pocking her insides at the right spot.
— Who’s the boss? he said.
— You are sir.
— That’s right! And your pussy is mine.
— Yes, it’s all yours, sir. Use me.
— You're going to suck up all of me if you continue to be so docile… Ah…
Her body was going to relieve him of all this terrible accumulated stress… And it did not fail when she begged him to come in her.
— Oh… Raaaah! Take this!
He emptied all his vices in her. She moved her hips to finish him off properly.
— Just like that, sir? Do you like it?
He replied with groans, his head back.
She wanted him to remember her, she wanted him to talk about her good services with Management.
When she felt he was done, she stopped her movements. Out of breath, he gave her a pat on the butt to let her know he was done and that she could get up.
He pulled up his underwear, wiping his fingers on it, then pulled up his pants, while admiring the new recruit with saucy eyes.
— You're gonna make them all crazy, I can feel it!
— Thank you, sir.
He ran his hand over Lisa's cheek.
— Stuffing your little pussy gave me great pleasure. I will recommend it.
— Thank you sir, thank you very much.
He pressed his hand against Lisa's sex and inserted his index finger.
— Can you feel how happy you made me?
He was searching her body and she, who hadn't come, enjoyed the sensation and began to moan.
— Look at you! You’d like me to make you come, wouldn’t you!
She didn't answer, lost in her pleasure.
— No, I will let this for your next appointment. I already know who's coming, no doubt you'll like it.
He walked away, leaving her alone with a furious urge to touch herself and be done with it, but she decided to wait after the promising comment.
She went to have a quick shower. That first experience was not so bad. Certainly, he had manhandled her a bit, but it had tickled her perversions.
The red light came back on as she got out of the shower. She quickly perfumed herself, tied her hair in a ponytail, added some red to her lips, put on her silk robe and blindfolded her eyes once seated on the pedestal.
The door opened. She could hear the voices of men joking around in the hall as if they were just out of a meeting. But several of them were actually entering the room. She had not been told that there could be more than one man in the same session. She didn't dare say anything. She remained silent as she heard the flattering comments of the young men. She imagined them all to her liking, having only their voices as a reference. One of them picked her interest from the start. He was in the background, intervening very little but in a calmer manner. It was he who talked to her first:
— What’s your name?
— Lisa, do you mind if my two colleagues join us?
She wasn't sure whether the rules granted it or not, but she was far too happy about that thought to dare refusing it.
— No, I don't mind.
— Good. Get up.
She stood up. Trembling with excitement. She felt the knot of her robe untying, it opened and revealed her bare skin. Comments of satisfaction erupted. And then, delicately, the man ran his hand under, brushing her breast with his fingertips, moved up to her shoulder and pulled the robe behind it. She didn't move, but her breathing was suddenly getting faster. He did the same with the other shoulder, which ended up undressing her completely.
He left her like that for a moment, gazing at her as one would contemplate a statue, his colleagues praising her skin, her curves, her mouth.
She heard the sound of the belts, the zippers, clothes thrown on the floor. She knew they made themselves comfortable.
The man in front of her remained silent. She couldn't see his eyes devouring her, the desire taking shape in his boxers.
She wondered what they were all waiting for, she wanted them to be all over her.
The man took Lisa's hand and plunged it under the rubber band. Touching him and feeling his stiff prize, she let a gasp slip away.
— Eat me, he said.
She didn't need him to ask again, she would have done it right away in another context. She knelt in front of him, slipped the boxers off, took his cock in one hand and devoured his balls.
The colleagues, who were already masturbating, picked up the pace. One of them came to stand behind her, caressed her breasts, licked her back as Lisa's head now paced back and forth on the man's cock.
She loved the feeling of being touched by someone who wasn’t the one she was busy with. Her desire was dripping on her leg. She felt a hand between her thighs and she knew the third man had come closer.
— She runs on my fingers, he said almost joyful.
The man had taken more space on her tongue, her jaw was open as wide as possible to accommodate him. She already wanted to feel his flesh deep in her stomach.
Three fingers were now in her and she rocked on this hand in the same rhythm as on her meal.
The man grabbed her ponytail and helped her move, gesturing her to linger a bit as it hit the back of her throat.
— I want to take her, it’s too much, said the one behind her, gripping her hips.
— Patience, said the man. I want to enjoy this mouth a little longer.
The one who decided of everything had her full attention. There was something about his voice, his authority, his calmness, his self-control, that made her burn with desire for him.
She felt a cold object in her hot body. Something was being introduced into her in place of fingers. At the ease with which it came in, she thought of glass. A small bottle? And then she felt a cold liquid flow through her. Whatever the object was, this liquid now flowing down her triggered her visceral need to be filled with pleasure.
The second man kept moving the object inside her back and forth, slowly. The third man started moving his hand on her lower back. The first one, hmm, the first one was beading deep in her mouth.
— Fuck! he said like a regret.
He withdrew and with him all the tension in her jaw was gone. He took her hand, helped her up, and led her in another corner of the room where he lay down and pulled her towards him so she would ride him.
She didn't wait for the permission to slide him in because the urge was too strong. Finally feeling him inside made her moan. She heard him laugh quietly, probably at her excitement or maybe at her unprofessionalism, but she liked that he didn’t make a fuss about it. He grabbed her breasts firmly before pulling her to him so that he could lick the tips. The contact of his mouth on her skin made her shake all over. He scooped her ass and made her rock on him.
The other two were contemplating the action, awaiting orders from their leader.
She felt the heat on her cheeks, the sensation in the pit of her stomach which was already rising with each penetration. What if she came now?
He prepped her for the next step, with the tip of an experienced middle finger, sinking deeper and deeper into her little hole.
— Aidan! he said, motioning for him to come closer.
Aidan took Lisa's hips, which stopped their movements. He placed himself behind her, pushed his body into her, but ended up in the same hole as the man beneath her.
Two cocks for the price of one. He didn't even stop right away, he gave that spot a few thrusts. The very thought of these two men skin against skin in her body almost pushed her over the edge. Oh my God they're rubbing against each other, she told herself… She found it so perverted that she lewdly moved her hips and squeezed moans out of them.
The third one, who didn't want to be left out, crept between Lisa's lips. But the pleasure she felt down there was taking all of her mind.
Aidan pulled back and pointed to the other entrance, plunging his entire cock into it. He congratulated her on welcoming him so quickly. Pleasing a man was enough, but two at the same time was the height of her fantasies. She wished that time had stood still, that this sensation of fullness - caught like a vulgar little doll between two men - never stopped. Aidan leaned over her fully and the three of them stood still for a moment.
The movements resumed, but it was neither the man nor Aidan who made them all move. She didn't need to remove the blindfold to understand what was going on. She felt all the shakes. It was the third one, who got behind Aidan who was thrusting everyone. These three friends, these three coworkers who certainly looked very conventional the rest of the time, considered a hole to be just a hole and that there was no point in fussing. Their groans were too much. She lost control. The man beneath her noticed it.
— Give yourself that sweet release, darling, he said.
He inserted his thumb between her lips and sucking on his finger triggered it all. She didn't even have to move, the jerks made her rub against him deliciously and the image, so perverse in her head, made her cry out.
When she was done, the man asked the other two to stop.
Lisa, exhausted by the violent pleasure, not knowing what was expected of her now, lay on the floor. She could hear though, their hands quickly moving back and forth over their skin. She offered her body, placing herself on her back, opening her mouth wide, and she was quickly thanked on her face and breasts, with deep, long groans covering the background music.
When the rain was over, the man leaned over her and whispered:
— I look forward to our next one to one appointment. These days I am very, very stressed.
The blue light was now flashing and this was their cue to get out. They left after some courteous crouching and hand-kissing.
Once alone in the room, she removed the blindfold and mixed their pleasure with her fingertips on her chest and neck, like a reward for a job well done.
She too could not wait to meet again with the mysterious man.
© Tous droits réservés - Charlie M.P. - 11/29/2021
I have dreamed of buying a house for a while. During my daily walks, I sometimes visit open houses. I come in even if the outside isn’t to my liking, because I am often pleasantly surprised of what I find inside. I like to pretend I can buy them all, just to find myself for a moment in the shoes of those who do this without wondering if it’s possible.
The weather is beautiful today. I take the opportunity to stroll aimlessly along the edge of the botanical garden. The surrounding houses are not particularly pretty, but their locations make them attractive and pricey.
I let myself be tempted by an "Open House" sign on the front lawn of one of them. If I owned this one, I would never sell it. It sits in a cute cul-de-sac, appears to have a large backyard, and is not too close to its neighbours.
I knock on the door. I hear “A minute!” from afar and hobbling footsteps coming in my direction. A woman barely older than me, an ankle in a splint, opens the door.
— Come in ! she said after a courtesy chat.
The entrance is lovely. I could fall in love with this house just for it. It reminds me of many American movies. A staircase on the right leading to the bedrooms, a small table on the side to leave your bags and keys, a door under the stairs to go down to the basement, a kitchen at the end, all of this wrapped in a beautiful teal blue. After a brief summary of what the house has to offer, she asks:
— Do you prefer visiting it by yourself or do you prefer I come with you?
— Alone, if you don't mind? Plus, in your condition…
I don't like wasting people's time. She doesn't insist and limps back to the living room, letting me roam around her house freely.
I go upstairs, visit the two rooms at the end of the hall, quite ordinary, tidy. No trace of a child, probably the reason why she sells the house. What's the point of living in a house with four bedrooms when you live alone?
I open another door and find a desk there, behind which sits a man who is typing on his keyboard. He looks up when he sees me.
— Excuse me! I say confused.
— No, come in, please! I was going to stop working anyways.
— Are you sure?
He gets up to shake my hand. A firm grip. A frank look. An undeniable charm.
— Magdalene isn’t really helping you, is she? he says with a smile.
— She offered to accompany me but with her ankle… I prefer visiting by myself anyway… I'm sorry to disturb you.
He puts his hands in front of him.
— It's no bother at all! I've been on this manuscript for three hours now. I should take a break.
— You’re a writer?
— Anything I could have read?
— What genre do you write in?
After a short pause, he replies:
— I write books for adults.
It's not so much what he says but his laid-back demeanour gives me a little jolt. Not wanting to offend, I pretend this is all completely normal.
— Interesting. Which book would you recommend?
He looks at me with a mischievous eye. This is when I realize what I just said, that I have probably gone too far.
— A future reader? he says.
He slowly approaches. And I know that decency would dictate that I step back and get out of this house right away, but the palpable electricity in the room makes me want to stay. His wife is downstairs, watching TV, and I wonder if the fact that she didn't mention her husband upstairs was a genuine oversight or if she deliberately offered me to the wolf.
— I don't read that genre, I say. Actually, I've never really tried.
— Would you want me to read the passage I was working on? A special preview?
He winks at me and I can't resist the honour he gives me. I imagine some would go out of their way to be in my place right now.
— Come, take this chair, sit down next to me.
I hear what he says, I can tell it's borderline, and yet I go.
— You don't write? he asks while I take my seat.
— No ! Oh no ! But I read, a lot. I like to read.
— Would you rather read the passage in question then?
— Whatever you prefer…
He turns his screen towards me and zooms in on the paragraph.
The more he looked into her eyes, the more the urge to devour her grew.
This first sentence makes me swallow. In the corner of my eye, I see him observing my reactions and I hope he hasn't heard a thing.
He left the bathroom door ajar. She probably wouldn't go in, but it would at least plant the idea in her head. Once in the shower, he hummed a song, as if to draw her to him. Maybe she was still on the couch, or just outside the door, listening.
My eyes pass over each word so quickly, not to prolong the awkwardness that sets in.
He preferred to imagine her nearby, her hands in her pants...
…Touching with the fingertips her very present excitement. The thought alone made him grab his cock and he started to vigorously masturbate.
The paragraph ends there. My eyes finds his and I immediately lower them, probably flushed with shame.
— Does it work? he says most professionally.
What do I say? The truth? Wouldn't that be confessing to him that he just made me horny?
— This is ... what I imagined, I say.
— And what did you imagine?
He is laughing at the situation. He's probably used to talking openly about these things, but I'm not.
— You know… Storytelling for adults.
— Do you like it?
A nervous laugh escapes me.
— Joker? he offers.
— Yes please.
— But could you tell me at least, if reading these few lines has awakened a little something in you?
He leans to my side, bringing his face close to mine. A moment of hesitation sets in as we look each other straight in the eyes. Is he actually flirting with me or is that a legitimate question from a writer of the genre?
— It works well, but I'm not sure I'm your target reader so...
His hand is on my thigh. I glance down to see if the sensation is real. It is.
When my eyes come back up, he whispers:
— A word from you and I remove my curious hand.
He is now so close that I can see the different bursts of colour in his pupils.
— What exactly do you have in mind? I say. Isn't that your wife downstairs?
— She's used to this.
— Do you say that because she can't come up here?
He smiles and gestures for me to look behind me. I turn my head and see his wife on the doorstep. Her splint is gone. I straighten up on the back of the chair.
— I… I probably should go!
He presses against my thigh.
— Stay, he says very calm.
I glance at his wife, then at him.
— Like I said, she's used to it.
He leans in and kisses me. His tongue comes to search my mouth in a salacious way. I keep an eye on his wife, she doesn't move. The fact that she lets her husband do what he wants with me, and the sounds of our mouths turns me on so much… I indulge in this pleasure. He removes my waistcoat and runs his hand under my top, up to my bra. He feels me over the fabric. I glance at his wife. She hasn't moved, but the look on her face tells me that she appreciates what she sees.
I run a hand over the crotch of her husband, who moans contentedly between my lips. I undo his zipper and grab his cock, pull it out, stiff of desires. He thrusts lasciviously in the air, with my fingers around him.
Suddenly he lifts me up and lays me on my back, on his desk. He takes off my shoes. I don't take my eyes off his wife. She has one hand in her blouse, she’s caressing herself. He unbuttons my jeans and slides them down my legs. I find myself in panties in the house of complete strangers. I let him take my underwear off and my butt ends up against his cold desk. Their visible excitement adds to mine. The woman comes stand behind her husband, holding his cock with one hand.
It is she who brings him closer and who demands to penetrate me.
Our hungry breaths respond to each other. His sex is pointing at the entrance of my body and he pushes inside me, with a long moan, as his wife's hand is now on his testicles and I can feel her fingers as he comes in again. Seeing this couple above me enjoying my body is a real trip. I grab the cell phone next to my head, find the camera option, and start filming the action, from my point of view. The thought of them replaying the video later would almost make me come.
I stop him in his tracks, I feel he's going to come too fast. I turn and lean over his desk, offering my bare butt. He penetrates me again, preparing my furious desire with his thumb.
— Look, she says. She's just waiting for it! Take her ass! Fuck her good!
Two more thrusts and I would have come, if he hadn't suddenly stopped to change holes. He enters slowly, to the hilt. Then he pulls out and comes in again, before pounding me as if I was going to leave right away. The angle of his cock is pressing in the right place, I feel my muscles closing in on him, the warmth in the pit of my stomach washes over me.
— Listen to her moan! She loves your cock!
Her little comments turn me on even more.
— I think she’s coming! Come in her ass!
Her husband's groans are already taking me far away. My body is no longer mine, it convulses with pleasure, with each of his determined movement in me. He punctuates his orgasm in my body with serious thrusts, trembling, holding himself to my hips. I let myself drool over his desk.
After a tender kiss from the writer on my back, they offer me to take a shower down the hall.
Coming out of the bathroom, I hear them fucking like animals in the office. I go back down tiptoeing, leaving them to their business.
In this charming hall, I find the splint against the wall and the sign "Open House" freshly removed from the grass. Two visual proofs that this was only a ploy to get someone in.
Maybe I’ll come by and be naïve once again…
© Tous droits réservés - Charlie M.P. - 11/10/2021
— So... I just have to go through that door?
— Yes. Take the time to reflect. As I told you, seventeen percent have never returned.
The man repositioned his glasses on his round cheeks.
— In short, we cannot guarantee your return.
— Yes, I got that.
A button on his desk starts flashing but he ignores it.
— I want to go.
He shakes his head.
— Don’t make hasty decisions here…
— I made my decision months ago.
— Well then…
He lays back in his chair.
— …You’re a responsible adult.
On the screen, he opens his calendar.
— In two weeks? The first day of the month?
— Right now, is it possible?
— Right away?
— How long does it take to go through a door exactly?
I’m so eager to go he seems excited.
— Well well...Ten to twenty minutes.
— Let's go now, we have time!
I get up and he does the same, mimicking me.
— I have to tell my team. It's not a one-man job, you know.
He looks at me over his glasses with an eccentric face.
— What do they say about my project? What are the rumors these days?
Rumors were that Professor Buchanan, an ethically challenged scientist, had found a way to travel to a parallel world and was hiding in an undisclosed location. The use of Thorium has been banned since the Great Explosion of 2047 but he was using it and was hiding from the authorities.
Driven by an almost visceral urge to visit this new world to the point of dreaming about it almost every night, it took me five long months to find him.
— Not a lot of details, but the few people I’ve met who visited have described it as paradise.
— Paradise, eh? How about that!
He pushes a button with a mischievous smirk.
— Dranik, tell the team to meet me downstairs in five minutes. I'm bringing Miss Clingman.
Dranik replies, from where he is:
— They're on a break at this time.
— Well, find them and bring them back to the room immediately!
The blunt tone is justified. I've brought all that is left of my inheritance, which makes a hell of a buck for the professor if he lets me through the door.
We take an elevator down to the underground room, thirty-seven meters under sea level, he tells me. My ears take a hit.
The doors open onto a large room carved in the rock. There are a few desks and a control table worthy of a science-fiction movie. In front of us, an armored door.
— I thought it’d be more like Alice in Wonderland.
— Drink me! Eat me! he chuckles.
— Have you travelled through before, Professor?
— Of course !
— Didn't wanna stay there?
— Someone has to run the machine. Here, put on this bracelet.
He hands me the object, which I adjust to my wrist.
— What's this for?
— To find you if you get lost.
Two men join us and sit down at the desks on either side of the door. The professor takes control.
— Ready? Activation in 3, 2, 1...
There is a sound of explosion on the other side of the door. I glance at Buchanan. He is calm. The other two adjust levels at full speed. Their gestures seem to have been repeated hundreds of times.
And then, after about ten minutes, the door finally opens in a cloud of smoke. I lean forward, impatient to see what is on the other side but you can't see anything, just a dazzling white light. I cover my eyes with my hand, I squint to see beyond but it's complete emptiness. The parallel world emits no image, no sound, nothing.
— What are you waiting for? says Buchanan.
— How do I…? Are we falling? What feeling do you…
— You won’t feel anything at all, it is as if you are continuing your step but in a different place. Go in with your eyes closed, if you prefer.
I approach the door. Even a meter away you can't make out what is on the other side. I close my eyes and take two steps forward. I already have one foot out when I hear Buchanan's voice from far away saying "Obey him and you’ll be able to come back." Fresh air and an immediate feeling of well-being envelop me.
When I open my eyelids, I'm in the middle of a street. There is no door behind me. The surroundings look like the old streets of New York or Chicago, but something is strange. I don't put my finger on it right away, but I feel the artifice, its synthetic vibe. Is it the air that smells like spring? The lack of imperfections in the asphalt? The perfect furrow of the clouds? The presence of sidewalks but the absence of vehicles? Or the… Oh!
It took a little time for it to finally jump out at me. Everyone here wears a ring around their neck, a thin fluorescent-colored tube. Yellow, red, green, blue, purple, pink or orange...
I stop a passer-by wearing a pink ring, putting my hand on her forearm.
— Excuse me miss… I wonder… What is this necklace?
— Why do you ask? You have a talys too.
I bring my hand to my neck and feel the glass tube under my fingers. I look down and notice it is a red one.
— What in the world…
Her face softens.
— Oh, you just arrived, didn’t you! Go to the intersection of Bussy and Rabutin. You will find a small shop called "The 8th Floor". Ask for Doctor Himeros. Say hello from Annabelle for me. I think...I hope he remembers me.
She leaves me here with more questions.
I try to remove my necklace so that I can take a closer look but there is no clasp, as if I had grown up with it.
I have to find this Doctor Himeros. I glance around to see where I am and see a flashing red dot in the distance. It floats about ten meters above the ground, right in the middle of the opposite road.
— Do you see that thing? That red dot there? I say to passers-by who ignore me completely.
I want to see more closely if my eyes are playing tricks on me. But the closer I get, the more the point backs up. And then suddenly it disappears and reappears at the end of another street. The point takes me to Rabutin street. Someone or something is guiding me and an "incredible!" escapes from my lips. I continue to follow it until the intersection with Bussy street. And there, as Annabelle told me, like a tiny little button right in the middle of skyscrapers, is the "The 8th Floor" shop. this old thing on this roundabout doesn't look like much but here I am like Alice, intrigued by so much mystery.
I walk over and push the door.
The interior is huge. It shouldn't fit in this tiny little shop, but with all the weird things going on, I almost don’t find it odd. Large red curtains adorn the walls of the room which would be empty if it were not for this leather armchair, majestically placed in its center.
— Doctor Himeros?
The "s" hangs in the air for a second, then I hear the sound of a microphone being turned on.
— Welcome, Lizzie.
A calm, warm and masculine voice fills the room. By reflex I glance behind me but I'm still alone.
— You know who I am?
— Sure. The scanner at the entrance of this world lets me know who's coming.
— I was scanned?
— Everyone who enters is. We dismiss people who may interfere with the proper functioning of our system.
— What do you mean?
— Those who arrive with a white talys won’t benefit from this world, it’s safer to send them back immediately, to ensure everyone here has the best possible time.
All this seems to amuse him a lot because I can hear his smile through his voice.
— Why is mine red? What are these colors for?
— It’s meant to expose the nature of your desires. Desires have different wavelengths. Yours are red.
— Are people here to find love? I’m not here for...
— Who said you were here to find love?
Once again I hear the amused tone in his voice.
— Lizzie, you know why you're here, don't you?
— Because I wanted to discover a new world?
— You’re here because you followed a dream.
— I followed a dream?
— Do you remember someone with goofy grey hair referring you to a doctor about a year ago, when you were feeling a bit down?
It is crazy for a complete stranger to know about this.
— He prescribed you anti-anxiety medication, didn't he?
— Yes but how…
— These were actually synthetic dreams. Dreams were telling you to visit this world, correct?
I drop into the chair. Am I dreaming, right now? Everything seems real but this story is so grotesque. I question my own will to come here, all these choices I've made for months.
— Why would anyone want to control my dreams? Bring me here?
— This is what you need to find out...
As I remain silent, he continues.
— I feel that your curiosity is already taking over. This delights me. We like curious people here.
He is laughing at the situation. In another context, I would undoubtedly fall under the spell of this voice but I am in shock and the questions are jostling in my head.
— Who are you?
— You'll find out sooner or later, don't be impatient.
— And now, what am I supposed to do?
— Now go find out what our world has to offer.
He cuts the microphone and I find myself in complete silence. Why would anyone want me to end up here? All of this makes me anxious. It was well worth the change of scenery...
I leave the shop. When I look up, I notice, a few meters above me, a small flying object that seems to follow my movements. That's when I remember the bracelet around my wrist. It surely is Buchanan and his team making sure I’m not getting lost.
I turn in circles. I don't have a map of this world but it looks like it's only five blocks. Just enough to have a few buildings, a little park, a few shops, a pinch of people. How can we get lost here?
I am sitting on a bench, watching all these childless people pass by, wondering why some call it a paradise when a young man with a red talys sits next to me.
— Are you new here? I've never seen you before.
— Ah, I see the flirting methods are a bit the same here.
He shakes his head.
— I'm not here to seduce you. I came to get you.
— To get me? Did Buchanan send you? I am not lost. I mean, I don't think I am...
— No, it's not Buchanan. You are expected in the Black Tower, he says, pointing at it.
— What's going on in the Black Tower?
— I was just told to come get you. Follow me?
It's not like I have anything else to do. I get up and follow him. On the way, I ask him what his days are made of. He replies that he only appears in this world when Maestro needs his services. An image comes to my mind. A dream image, no doubt. A man passes in front of several women, inspecting them. I only see bodies, no faces. Each woman is dressed in the same color as their talys. For some reason my body seems to like this picture. The closer we get to the Tower, the more flashbacks flood my mind. The man brushed against the fabric of my bra. The memory is so strong that I feel a sensation very close to a real touch. The little flying object stops at the front door. We enter the Black Tower and once in the elevator the man asks me if I'm okay.
— Don't be afraid. Nothing bad will happen to you.
No matter how much he wants to reassure me, his words have the opposite effect. Something's going to happen to me, just nothing bad.
Once we arrive to the floor, the elevator doors open and he motions for me to exit. He stays in the elevator and I barely have time to say "Aren't you coming with?" that the doors close and he goes back down.
I find myself in a dark-colored hall, illuminated by dozens of small ceiling lights, facing an oversized mahogany door.
I approach it and I’m getting a little agitated. I take a deep breath. I am about to knock on the door when a familiar male voice emerges from the walls. “Come in”. The door opens on its own, slowly, unveiling a large room with black walls, floors and furniture. At the back of the room, a man in a midnight blue 3-piece suit is seated in an armchair, arms on the armrests, legs comfortably apart. A mask made with simple curves covers the top of his face.
— Come closer, he invites me.
I take confident steps, although I am not. Once I face him, he stands up and approaches closer to me. My eyes wander on his cheekbones, his smooth chin, his thin lower lip. His scent awakens my senses. Can the olfactory memory of a dream exist?
— I feel like I know you, I say. Is that the case?
— Sort of.
— Doctor Himeros?
He stifles a laugh. This world is too mysterious, they are all going to drive me crazy.
— Don't be nervous. Everything will be alright.
— Who are you? What do you want from me?
He runs his hand over my talys. Doing so, he brushes my collarbone with his fingertips and sends a shiver down my spine. His intense eyes behind the mask come back to mine.
— Take off your clothes, he says calmly.
— I’m sorry?
He returns to sit across from me. I'm not the type of woman who takes orders from anyone, and yet the way he talks to me seems to send some heat between my thighs. Seated in front of me, he stares at me again, patiently waiting for me to comply. It's ridiculous. Stripping like this? For a stranger? My desire quickly mingles with apprehension. I'm not in a different world to act the same as before. Curiosity wins out.
I unbutton my blouse, then uncover my shoulders in a slow and somewhat clumsy gesture. The only noise in the room is the fabric rubbing over my skin. I drop the blouse onto the floor. His stillness and silence impress me. My heart is racing. I unhook the back of my skirt and slide it down my legs. He follows my movements with his eyes and it's when I fully stand up that he looks me up and down, slowly, savoring every curve of my body.
He stands up, approaches, then grips my jaw with a firm hand. He comes so close that a kiss seems inevitable. But he doesn't lean for one. His gaze fixed on mine, he leaves me in suspense for a few seconds, while his hot breath on my lips makes my body dripping with obscene envies between my legs. His eyes narrow. He gives a trivial lick on my parted lips. The sweaty heat of that foreign body against my face finishes to put me on fire. My stomach twists with the urge of a deep invasion. The face still gripped between his fingers, my breathing becomes hungry. I would like that mouth to come down on my body, that tongue to explore between my thighs. He lets go of my face and sits back down.
— Come back tomorrow.
— You… leave me like that?
— Like what?
— What do you mean like what?
— Is there a problem?
My eyebrows straighten. His serene expression makes me doubt everything that just happened. Did I dream that too?
— Are you telling me you’re excited, Miss Clingman? he says astonished.
I never had to say out loud how I felt when it seemed obvious. I nod, still a little embarrassed by my sudden heat.
— That would surprise me a lot and I’ll tell you why.
He walks over again and strokes the talys around my neck.
— This, you see, contains all your desires. They’ve been extracted and are now preserved in the talys. You shouldn't feel excited.
— You don’t believe me?
His voice, his perfume, his delicate gestures intoxicate me. Does he not see it? He runs his tongue quickly over her lower lip, perhaps unconsciously. His mouth, now shiny, tempts me even more.
— Take off your panties and give them to me.
I may be in a different world, but I still have some modesty left...I shake my head. He holds out his hand.
— Take them off right away and give them to me.
He takes my arm and pulls me to him. The distance between our mouths is paper thin. The surprise of his hand between my legs makes me open my mouth wide. He resumes, speaking even more quietly, as if we weren't alone in the room.
— Don't be impolite.
His gaze turns black. The more he lectures me, the more he turns me on. He grips me tightly.
— There are two or three things I could put in your lovely mouth to calm this insolence.
If he thinks he's dissuading me, he's wrong. My cravings are streaming through the fabric now and there is no doubt he can feel it with his fingertips.
— You will have to review your attitude, he says.
He takes his distance.
— Go back to Doctor Himeros.
He disappears through another door at the end of the room. The goujat leaves me stranded with a monumental desire.
This world is too much for me...
I get dressed, go back down, get out of the building and follow the red dot until Bussy and Rabutin intersection with the firm intention of returning to the world I come from.
I enter the shop again, less surprised by what I find then.
— Doctor Himeros?
The microphone turns on and the warm voice reappears.
— I’d like to return to my world now.
— Come on, you've just arrived.
— Precisely! I've just arrived and I’ve already found myself half-naked in front of a complete stranger.
— Speaking of which, let me recalibrate your talys.
— Let's talk about it, it seems that...
— Don’t move.
— Are you do it right now, just like that?
— Yes, stay still.
I don't move any more.
— Apparently, I shouldn’t feel any desire? A world without desire, what a drag…
I hear him laughing heartily.
— Tell me who he is. What does he want from me? If you don't answer, I'm leaving.
— It's up to him to reveal his identity. Just know that he created this world.
— Buchanan created this world.
— No, Professor Buchanan found a way in, but he didn't create it.
— You know, you have similar voices than him.
— Nonsense. Finished. It should be working now.
— What's his name?
— The master of the game? We call him Maestro, but you know that already.
An image of the man in the mask flashes into my mind. He is above me, naked, thrusting in me with lust in his eyes. The surroundings are bright white, almost blinding. This image lasts a few seconds, just enough to give me some sensations, the desire to stay, to be touched, to be penetrated...
— I don't think the talys is working, I say.
— Did you just have a mental image? Nothing alarming.
Does he even know the image turned me on?
— You can leave at any time, but it would be a shame to give up what awaits you, believe me. Go back to Maestro.
The image returns. His mouth is wide open, I hear his groans, I feel his movements in my body...It's too much. I need to go back to the Black Tower.
The small flying object follows me again. What a strange world...
— You'll have a lot of explaining to do, Buchanan! I say to it, hoping that a microphone is hooked to the object.
I arrive at the Tower and it stops once again in front of the door like a good little doggie. I take the elevator and hit the "8" button like the man had done earlier. I don't know what this master of the game is playing to, but I won't walk away without answers this time around.
Doors open onto the mahogany door. I'm not knocking, I'm going straight in. And he's there, sitting in the same chair, in the same position, with the same mask.
— Do you stay like this all the time or did you know I was coming back?
— An intuition.
I approach and stop two meters from him. He stands up.
— I will not undress this time, be sure of that, dear Master of the Game.
He doesn't let my sarcasm disturb our conversation.
— Don’t say anything until you have visited the pièce de résistance...
With one hand behind my back, he invites me to follow him. His voice calms me so easily. He bewitches me as soon as he opens his mouth. I gladly follow him in the other room.
We walk through a door and find ourselves in an equally large room, bright white, as if we were moving from night to day. There, stand in a row six women in underwear matching the color of their talys. Blue, pink, yellow, green, orange, purple. They smile, each one more beautiful than the other.
He invites me to stand next to the woman with the blue talys and then he stands in front of us.
Being fully dressed while they are half-naked almost makes me want to undress so as not to denote.
Behind us is an oblong cabin, about two meters high by four meters long. A round door, similar to a ship hatch locks each end.
— What is this thing? I say.
The women quietly snicker.
— You'll find out soon enough, he says.
All these laughs intrigue me. Now no matter what happens, I want to know what this thing is used for.
He goes to meet the first young woman in the line. She looks him straight in the eye, as if trying to seduce him, without a word. Then he goes to the second. She does the same. He, behind his mask, looks at their necks with interest. He goes through them and finally comes to me. His eyes wander on my body. As if the lack of clothes was the norm here, mine now appear indecent to me. He insists with his gaze, I can feel it, that I comply with the custom but I do not want to go back on my words. He runs his fingers over my talys.
— You said you wouldn't take your clothes off, but would you let someone do it for you?
His voice spins in my head like an incantation. His hand brushes my skin again. I feel the heat under his fingers. I would love him to unbutton my blouse without having to ask him.
— Tamara! he says, nodding to tell her to come over to me.
The young woman in the blue talys approaches in a graceful movement, a benevolent smile on her lips but her eyes full of mischief. She undoes the first button and I feel a hot flash rise between my thighs. She is delicate, meticulously undressing me. My eyes navigate to her chest. Goosebumps can be seen on the discreet curve of her breasts. She then pulls the blouse down my arms, moving closer in the same gesture to make sure to slide it all the way down. Tamara smells of jasmine. She laughs when the blouse gets stuck at my wrists. She pulls the zipper of my skirt down behind my back then crouches down in front of me, gripping the fabric at my hips and pulling down slowly, witnessing what she uncovers with great care. I tremble with excitement. Her eyes move up to mine, she smiles at me, then gets up and walks back to stand among the others.
Now I find myself undressed, I realize the red of my underwear completes the color collection.
— A woman for each day of the week, huh? I say.
The Maestro's smile tells me that I haven't fallen far from the truth. He approaches me again and puts his hand behind my arm.
— Would you like to follow me now into the Commistrium?
The urge to know more about this thing creates an exquisite ache in the pit of my stomach. I follow him without hesitation. He unlocks one of the doors by making a full turn of the crank. He pulls the door towards him and the sound of streaming water comes out of the cabin. The interior is cylindrical, just as bright as the room. The walls are smooth. A fine stream of clear water flows on the ground.
— After you, he says.
I climb inside. He follows me. The woman in pink closes the door behind us. The noise from the outside is immediately muffled once the room is closed. Valves of fresh air open and classical music comes out from who knows where.
— I hope you trust them, I say.
— They like my presence enough. They wouldn’t want anything to happens to me.
He takes off his jacket, taps the wall twice. A metal hook comes out of it and he hangs his jacket over it.
— Lie on your back, he says.
I hesitate for a moment to be in the water, but luckily the water is as hot as the sensation between my thighs. I find myself alone with a complete stranger, in this closed place. The desire suddenly rises.
He undoes his shirt, takes it off, finds himself shirtless in front of me and that's only when I realize I am at the last level of the game with the Master of the game.
— Lie down completely on the floor, he says.
I lie down completely. The talys in my neck ends up in the water and within seconds what I thought was glass dissolves to the point that it is now possible to remove it from my neck. The red liquid mixes with the water.
— Did I break it?
He doesn't have time to respond before a feral desire completely overwhelms me. I suddenly want fingers, cock, ejaculation, breasts, mouth, tongue, skin, smells, screams, bites, submission, invasion. All at the same time, as if my survival depended on it.
— Oh...Take me! I say getting up and resting my head against his crotch.
I feel his erection against my cheek, under his pants and my breathing quickens, I almost lack of air. All my desires surface at the same time and descend into my panties in a torrent of sensations that puts me on the verge of orgasm. I throw myself on his zipper. I'm so fast he doesn't have time to push me away. I pull his cock out and put it in my mouth before he asks me not to. I know why he brought me here for, he won't hold it against me. I suck on it like it's going to be extinct. The excitement is so great I could devour it if I didn't want to feel that bulging head deep inside me. I hear a few satisfied groans that drive me even crazier. The urge for release is so intense that I begin to jiggle, to caress myself between my thighs and he stops me by grabbing my wrist.
— Get on your back, he says.
I do so on the spot. He walks over, grabs the elastic of my panties, pulls them down my legs and throws them behind him. I don’t wait for him to unhook my bra, I do it myself, too impatient for his assault.
— Spread your legs.
He doesn't have to ask me again. My modesty is out the window. He taps twice on each of the walls. Small hatches open and he deploys two kinds of stirrups on which he fixes my legs. He doesn't hide his smile when he sees me like this. Offering him this view turns me on more than reason. He does the same for my arms by hanging them on metal ties that he also pulls out of the walls.
— You don't need to bind me... I am yours, completely yours... Come fill me...
He takes off his pants, everything else, finally finds himself naked too. My sex drips, shouts its desire to be invaded. He knocks on the door, which opens again. He's pointing at something. Tamara enters the Commistrium. She looks at me, sees how offered I already am.
The door closes. She placed herself between my legs. My body reacts as if it wanted to. Do I want to? She removes her bra, freeing her small breasts. She leans over and kisses me. Her tongue, her lips are so soft… She rubs her chest lasciviously against mine. My nipples harden. Her hands get lost in my hair. She begins to moan and her pleasure adds to the pile of my desires. I open my eyes and that's when I see Maestro is taking Tamara from behind, her lips still on mine. The image is so salacious that I am right on the edge. Tamara's fingers delicately search my privacy. He slams her ass and she moans again. She then takes some water in her hand and carries it over her talys, which melts in seconds. The blue liquid comes out, falling in droplets on my stomach. She rolls her eyes, in the grip of her own demons, and she begins to move against Maestro's body in search of her happiness. She moans louder, then puts her head between my legs. There, she eats me as if I was going to disappear from the menu the next minute. Her tongue is hungry, the sensation is divine. I wave as best I can on her greedy mouth. My pleasure is near. But Tamara suddenly stops. She unhooks my legs from the stirrups and comes to lie on me, rubbing her pubis against mine. I would love to participate but I think I would come way too soon. He takes her from behind and now I feel each thrust through her body. She no longer cares about me. She wiggles her hips to find her pleasure, her breasts swing with every move and then she suddenly shuts her eyes, opens her mouth wide but no sound comes out of it. She rubs faster on me and then she starts screaming, breathing loud. Seeing her come turns me on even more, as if it was even possible.
She regains consciousness and gets up, as if her task was done. Tamara gets out of the Commistrium, leaving me with my unfulfilled needs.
— I didn't know you liked women, he says.
— In all honesty, me neither...
He walks over, kneels down with his cock stiff with desire, part my legs with his hand and introduces a finger in my hole in a doctoral fashion.
— I am very demanding, he says. And very playful.
— I noticed.
His pinky is seriously approaching my other hole.
— I like the idea of possessing, in every sense of the word, what I desire.
He taps the wall twice and pulls out a small phallic-shaped object at the end of a chain. He licks the end of it and gently pushes it in my ass. It feels so good I could cry.
— I didn't think, he continues, that you would be so...
— Oooh hmm yes...
— … So quick to submit, so easy to penetrate.
— Give me your cock, please...
He stirs the object in me. He's going to drive me crazy.
— What do you want? I say no longer holding it. Do what you want with me! Tell me! Tell me everything
— Well, to tell you the truth…
— Yes…Yes… Tell me… Anything…
He stops in his tracks. He sees the desire deep in my eyes and he seems delighted.
—...I would like you to beg me to take you.
That's all? Was it that hard to say? Isn't it what I'm doing right now?
— Fuck me, I beg you!
He shakes his head.
— No. See, I would very much like you to do it by calling out my name.
— Fuck me, Maestro, fuck me!
— Maestro is not my name.
— Tell me your name, I’ll beg you all you want!
He grabs my hips and pulls me back to him. His cock pointed at my door. He doesn't seem determined to give it to me yet so I get closer as best I can. The tip goes in slightly, just enough to give me a taste of it and it’s driving me insane.
— You're impatient.
— I've already waited a long time! I want to feel you inside me. I want you to fill me…
He enters a little more inside me and comes out, playing with my nerves, entering again the next second, not missing any reaction of frustration and pleasure on my face. And then, in one movement, he penetrates me to the hilt and I let out a cry. Seeing the pleasure on his face puts me on the edge. He takes his time, pacing back and forth in my body lasciviously.
He doesn't do anything about it, he keeps moving slowly inside me, a smile on his face.
— I beg you...Whoever you are, fuck me!
He lies down on top of me and, without taking his eyes off me, removes his mask.
It takes a few seconds for me to realize who is in front of me. He's changed, he's grown, but the features are familiar. I find it hard to understand what's going on, how it's possible, how he can end up here… It must have been twenty years….
His smile widens. It’s him, the teenage daddy’s boy I babysat so many years ago, that I caught masturbating on a photo of me taken at my prom, who then asked me out in front of my friends once he came of age, to which I laughed and replied "Never in my life".
How did I not understand immediately when I heard the term "Master of the game" and "Maestro"? This was his favorite role-playing game, he was obsessed with it.
He’s between my legs.
He’s moving… Oh so well…
He sees the surprise in my eyes and gives me bigger thrusts. He’s going deep inside me and my desire rises. Months, years even, that he's putting it all together. He busy himself in my body, eyes full of vices and satisfaction. His madness turns me on. My sex tightens around him, sucks him in with each of his comings and goings. He's on the edge too. I can't believe what's going on. The look of this frustrated man turns me on so much… I feel the heat rising to my cheeks. I can't help but a few moans which I'm sure delight him.
He stops short and pulls out.
— No! I say.
— Beg me.
— Take your revenge, Greg! Come and fuck me, I want your cock so bad!
He’s satisfied with my answer. It’s totally genuine. I have the sudden urge to close the loop, I want him to spit all his frustration inside me, I want my body to receive his full punishment.
He shakes his head, as if surprised by so much docility. He comes closer and penetrates me again at full length, in a groan coming from far away. He moves faster and I watch him. His face twists with pleasure. He's already close to cum.
— Oh Greg… You’re gonna make me cum…
I can feel him feverish, he jerks into my body in an animal way. Imagining him ejaculating inside me makes me come alive. My body slips and recoils with each of his thrust. He gives me one last shot, stirring inside me even more furiously.
When he comes back to himself, he looks at me full of pride, as if he had just soiled me, as if to tell me I was wrong, that having created this world was justified. I don't know if I was wrong but right now I just really want him to make me cum. While he has already slowed above me, I rub myself against him as best I can. His arrogance is visible. He's not going to do anything to help me. He prefers to watch me struggle. The combo of his gaze and the micro-movements finally send me over the edge. He doesn't miss a thing, he watches me take my pleasure with a smirk. I have the full weight of his body on me and I am making myself come, in divine spasms. He pulls on the chain and the object out of my hole with it just as my muscles contract around his cock. My feet arch, everything gets fuzzy in my head for a moment and I finally breathe out like I'm taking my last breath.
The teenager finally fucked his babysitter. What a happy ending!
— I'll keep you here for a while I think, he said getting up.
— What for?
— Tied up, just like that, available for all my twisted fantasies.
His gaze darkens.
"Obey him and you’ll be able to come back." said Buchanan.
Well… Do I really want to leave anyway after such promises?
© Tous droits réservés - Charlie M.P. - 01/08/2021
You don't really know what sand tastes like until you've spent two days with your head at the height of a desert gerbil. No shade on the horizon. Sand as far as the eye can see. "Totally doable." Famous last words. My stubbornness will kill me for real this time. If I had not opted for a djellaba, my body would be 3rd degree burnt. My head is covered with a poor linen scarf to delay the inevitable. I just finished the last sip of my water bottle, it didn't even feel good because the water was so warm.
If I had listened to all the advice given to me, I would be buying some unnecessary souvenirs right now, to bring back for so and so. Yeah, I can picture myself doing that. But I’m just waiting on my stomach for death to come and get me.
It's strange what one thinks about before dying... The last message I sent to my loved ones, the one they will treasure forever although extremely stupid. The very intimate things in the bedside table that those who will empty my apartment will find. The dirty laundry basket someone else will have to take care of. Who will finish the rosé in my fridge? The conversation I wanted to have with an old crush at the upcoming class reunion. My last one-night stand that wasn’t that great. I could have fucked my coworker in the end. While I’m drying out like a prune here he's probably enjoying the air conditioning of the cafeteria. All these savings I could have used, I could have seen Bora Bora. And that revenge on my ex I will never get.
And what will be my very last thought?
I feel myself falling the same way I do when I fall asleep.
I open my eyelids with difficulty. I find myself in a blue cotton dress, lying on big pillows on the floor. I’m alone in a huge tent, full of carpets and fabrics of all colors on the floors and along the sides. To my right, a tea service tray, to my left, the opening of the tent on a sand dune.
My lips are no longer chapped, I’m not thirsty, I’m not dead. How long has passed since I was found and brought back here? The hotel concierge must have alerted people because he was the only one who knew where I was going. I walked in the desert for hours, probably not in a straight line either, no wonder it took days to locate me. I get up to sit down and my head begins to spin. Not quite recovered yet, I pour myself a tea that someone put next to me recently, it's still hot. I stay there, enjoying the bitterness of the leaves for a few minutes and realizing my good fortune. Once my head isn’t foggy anymore, I slowly get up and peek outside. No camel. The sun is beating down and the thought of being on the sand again doesn't appeal to me, so I go back inside until my rescuers return. My djellaba was cleaned up and left to dry on a hanger. My arms smell like orange blossom. The blue dress on my shoulders is not made for travelling in the desert. It’s a dress that goes all the way down to my feet, with a conservative neckline and long sleeves. I was hydrated, washed, dressed with care.
What feels like hours pass. Still exhausted from my adventures, I fall back asleep as soon as the sun sets.
The snort of a horse wakes me up. It’s still dark. Footsteps on the sand approach and a man in a dark suit leans over and enters the tent. He wears a turban that covers his entire face. Only his eyes and hands are uncovered. He brings with him a bag and two small lanterns which he puts between us when he sits down.
His deep blue eyes under the dim light look incredible. The white part makes them contrast with the dark color of his skin. There is something reassuring in his eyes but also a cold nobility.
— Choukrane, I say.
— Glad to see you awake.
He speaks with a slight accent.
— So do I! I owe you my life.
He opens his bag, inside are all kinds of food nuts, dates, dry figs. I want to throw myself on it.
— Help yourself, he says.
I take a little bit at a time not to look impolite, but the frequency with which I dip my hand in the bag betrays my hunger.
— How did you find me?
— I wasn't looking for you.
— You were on my way. It was best leaving you here until you could ride a horse.
His eyes shine in the light. I imagine a man with fine features under that turban. His manners, his way of holding himself make him elegant.
— What are you doing in the desert? Why are you travelling alone? I say.
— I could ask you the same thing.
His eyes narrow and I guess a smile.
I grab a date and ask the question that's been on my mind since he stepped in.
— Are you the one who…
I finish my question by showing the dress.
His yes is so definite that I do not dare asking my subsidiary question. Seeing my embarrassment, he goes on.
— I was respectful, he says. I carried you to the spring and used a cloth for your toilette.
I bow my head to thank him. This man whom I do not see anything saw me completely naked. But his frank gaze makes me believe he didn’t take advantage of the situation.
— We should be sleeping, he says. Since you’re feeling better, I will take you back to the nearest town tomorrow. The road will be long.
— A few hours?
— We’ll have to stop at least once to sleep.
— I was that far away huh… How long did I sleep?
— Tonight will be the third night you spend here.
He gets up, goes back outside to get something, then comes back with blankets.
— The source you were talking about, I say, is it far?
— You haven't gone out at all? It’s right behind the tent.
— Oh. I'm going for a quick wash then...I won’t be long.
He hands me a soap. I pass with a lantern in front of the horse which remains motionless when it sees me.
I didn't realize how cold it was outside, the tent having retained some of the heat of the day.
I stay long enough to clean a few bits I doubt he was able to get to. When I return to the tent, he’s sleeping facing the entrance. I tiptoe in and slip under the blanket behind him.
— The night is going to be cold, he say. Cover up as much as possible. We leave early.
I blow on the candle and we are in the dark. There is not a sound. It is so silent that I can hear the sand moving under us with every little movement we make. How many times has he had to save stupid girls like me?
I can't find sleep. How did I end up two days out of town? Have I been moved?
— I can hear you thinking, he says
— Sorry ... I have so many questions...
— Which I'll answer tomorrow if you don’t mind. Sleep.
— Wake up.
I feel like I closed my eyes two seconds ago. It’s still dark. He hands me a cup of tea. He seems to have been up for a while. He doesn't have puffy eyes like he surely sees on my face.
— I should put my djellaba back on, I say.
— Or you could use it to cover your face. The wind has picked up.
The night has been so short, and the sound of the wind is so calming that I can hardly get going. He observes my laziness, sitting next to me, sipping tea.
— You talk while you sleep, he says.
— I've been told that before. Hope I didn't wake you up.
— I was already up.
— Was I saying anything interesting?
— Let's just say you had a very pleasant dream.
His eyes narrow. A memory of my dream comes back to me. I was in a tub, a faceless man out of nowhere stepped forward and dipped his hand into the bath water to give me pleasure with his hand. I feel myself blushing.
— Don't be embarrassed, he says. We don't control our dreams.
Did I say something intelligible or did I just moan? I don't know what is the least embarrassing. I get up to end this conversation. I get my djellaba and my bag.
— I’m gonna go fill up my flask, I say.
His eyes follow me getting out of the tent. And this tiny little moment makes me aware of everything that has just happened. That I came close to death, that he helped me, that he still helps me. The water cooled down overnight. The sand gently swirls around me. And to think that I thought I was dying and here I am, feeling the grains of sand crashing against my skin. I wish I was there to see what happened when he found me. Was he surprised, distraught, delicate? What did he think when he saw my face? How did he get me here? Did he put me on his horse like a sack or did he sit me up and hold me in his arms? Did he look at me when I was enjoying myself last night? I think back to his piercing gaze.
I’m about to help him fold up his tent, but he is waiting for me on his horse, ready to go.
— You leave it here? I said.
— Yes, this one stays here. Get on.
He holds out his hand to me. I wrap my djellaba around my neck and he pulls me up behind him. He kicks the horse's side with the heel and we’re moving.
— Can I hold you? I say.
In other circumstances it would be something I say to flirt, but I just don't want to fall in the sand today. He allows me to do so and I place my arms around his hips, crossing my hands over his stomach. I can feel his muscles tighten with every step the horse takes in the sand. I'm safe and a bit horny now. The sun is rising on the horizon. The spectacle is breathtaking. Funny how different circumstances make me enjoy the show.
— What do you do in life? Other than saving people in the desert I mean.
— I only do this. I’m paid appropriately for each rescue.
— By whom?
— It's never good for business when a tourist dies in our desert.
— Are you taking days off? Do you have a family?
— I’m not interested in having a family.
How can he endure the desert knowing nothing awaits him?
— But you don't miss...
— Love? Women? Don't you miss that?
— I get what I need when I come back to town, don't you worry.
— About that... I wish there was a way I could thank you for everything you've done for me.
I tighten my embrace. I've been lowering my hands on his stomach for the last ten minutes. He does not seem to have noticed because his attitude hasn’t changed but the tips of my fingers now brush his crotch with each step the horse takes.
— You don't owe me anything, I only do what is expected of me.
— I almost died…You can take full advantage of me before bringing me back if you want. That would make me happy.
— This is a service that I do not offer.
He says it with so much confidence that I remain silent. Have I offended him? I take a little distance by putting my hands back on his stomach.
The silence that follows is so long that I fall asleep on his back and wake up when he catches me with one hand to prevent me from falling.
— Drink some water and come on the front, he says.
I follow his advice, a little apprehensive however at the idea of finding myself in his arms.
He hoists me onto the horse, and we set us on the road again. We go up a dune and I find myself pressed against him. Not that it displeases me, on the contrary, but since he refused my offer, I find myself in a little mental torture until the ground is flat again.
— How did you transport me when I was unconscious?
— Just like that. It's not ideal but it’s easier to keep someone from falling.
I imagine the journey. My limp body to have to squeeze in his arms. He must be used to it though. If he hasn't opted for a better solution it probably means it’s the most convenient for him.
He always answers my questions but stays on the surface. The mystery surrounding him excites me a little. I still haven't seen his face, just his eyes. And he remains so cold, distant. Usually, I’m the one turning people down. Feeling his lower abdomen against my butt makes my interest grow.
— You didn't even tell me your name.
— You never take off your turban, Ishmael?
— Force of habit.
— Could you show me your face?
— Just so I know who I'm talking to.
I turn to see him.
— So ? I say
— No, you couldn’t resist me.
He stifles a laugh and I feel like I've cracked the code.
— Do you want me to confirm? I say. There is definitely a time when you’ll have to take a sip anyways, right?
He stops the horse and slaps me on the thigh to move. He gets off the horse too and grabs his flask. He shows it to me, pulls what looks like a straw on the mouthpiece, places it under his turban and drinks, laughing.
I get so close to him that he has to look down in and I up.
— Come on, no games, show me your face, I say.
I play with my eyelashes to make him flinch. There is pride in his gaze, and a hint of mischief. I think he likes the way I talk to him. No doubt I would have seen his face by now if I hadn't bothered him so much about it.
— The wind is picking up, we must take shelter quickly. Come on.
And he wasn't wrong. In less than an hour, the wind is so strong that I don't regret being able to cover my face. We find refuge between rocks which block the storm pretty well. He puts a mesh on the face of his horse to protect it against the sand and I help him as best I can to put up a small tent.
— What do you do when you’re stuck that to pass the time? I say.
— Whether I'm alone or not.
His answer surprises me. I tell myself not to jump to conclusions. He said he wasn’t interested after all.
— Do you want to chat?
— Do you wanna have a little fun then?
He shakes his head.
— So what do we do? Are we looking each other in the eye until the wind stops?
— We sleep.
He lays down, crushing my hopes to pass the time more sympathetically. He crosses his hands over his stomach and closes his eyes. Maybe in reality I'm dead and this tent is a purgatory, some kind of test to know if they should send me on the pure side or not and maybe he was sent to tempt me. I too lay down with my back to him.
Who is sleepy at noon? Not me. I try though but the wind is too loud. I turn around and, to my surprise, the fabric of his turban fell off and I can now see what was under it. I had come to think he was hiding a bad scar or something, but it isn’t the case. His nose is long and straight, his mouth is fine, a very light black beard covers his skin. He must be in his forties, but maybe all that sun and sand has aged him. His peaceful face makes me feel safe as the storm shakes the tent.
Now that I've seen who I'm dealing with, sleeping next to him really tickles me. His breath on the back of my neck awakens my skin, which begs for a lips caress. I would love to feel him between my legs, let him do what…
I hear him swallow. The steady breath in my neck suddenly stopped. Is he awake?
I pretend to have a sexy dream, mumbling, moaning softly. I wait a bit, see if it moves behind me but nothing, not a noise, as if he had vanished.
I moan again but this time I add "Ishmael..."
I get horny on my own with all my moans.
— I know you are not sleeping, he whispers.
His voice travels though my ear to my inner-thighs. I continue to pretend I’m asleep. He moves behind me. He gently presses his body against mine. Even if I asked for it, I was not ready. The heat between my legs suddenly increases and I try my best to breath normally.
— You're a temptress. You seek my attention...
He grabs the hem of my dress and runs his hand under it. He brushes my skin with his fingertips, caressing my bare legs and it causes an irrepressible moan.
— …You have it.
— I thought you didn't provide that kind of service.
— Well, I help people in need, I give water to those who are thirsty.
His hand makes its way behind my knees, behind my thighs, up to my butt where he finds, tucked under my tight legs, my sex already swollen with desire. This brushing will drive me crazy. He spreads my lips gently.
I turn to watch him. He had put his turban back on his face. I could lose myself in his eyes. He lifts his coat up above the knees. He takes my hand and places it on his erection. I feel hair, I feel a stiff vein along his hard-on. My body arches at the thought of feeling it stir inside of me.
— Please… I say.
He chuckles. He uncovers it completely and I see it, pointed in my direction. I can't believe he offers his cock rather than his face. Whose the thirsty one? I want to feel his hairy balls smacking against my body. I can’t take it anymore.
He slowly rubs his body against mine, his cock slipping in my crack, playing between my cheeks.
— You're going to drive me crazy! Fuck me!
He slides a finger in me. It’s not much, but it’s so good it stops my whining. I move back and forth on his hand. The slippery noises it makes turns me on.
I get up, remove my dress and find myself naked in front of him. I crouch down next to him, take his hand and place it on my heavy breast. His rough desert savior hand grabs it, feels me. He closes his eyes. His cock taunts me, I want it. I'm about to mount him but he stops me.
— What? What? I say.
— It's my service, not yours.
He flips me around like a pancake and spoons me, grabbing my wrists on top of my head. With a slow, almost limp motion, he pushes his cock in my body. He comes out and in again with a lascivious thrust, and it's like my mouth is tasting his cock inch by inch.
— There, he said as if to calm me down. You have it.
It does calm my nerves. Finally experiencing the thickness of his cock invading is a delight. He keeps moving slowly. His firm balls touch my thighs every four seconds which makes me miss and enjoy his cock at the same time.
— It's so good, I say. Don’t stop…
He takes a long breath, as if to give himself the strength not to come immediately.
My lips sucks it each time he moves back. He lets go of my wrists and comes to stroke me in the front, just as slowly. All the sensations intensify.
— I want to see your face, I say. I want to see you when you lose your mind.
— You just have to lift...
I turn around and take of the fabric from his face. He smiles at me.
— Does that change anything? he says.
He leans in and puts his lips on my neck. A shiver runs down my back as he continues to move in me in long rolls of the hips.
I turn my face to offer him my mouth. He takes it like he takes my body, fervently. This slowness, this softness drive me absolutely nuts.
The sucking sound of our mouths, of our bodies is too much. He rubs the launch button, stroking it firmly from within with the tip of his cock. Everything is done in slow motion and my orgasm goes up the same way. My body contorts with the pleasure. He's not picking up the pace. The long pleading moan that comes out of my mouth surprises me and keeps me going. It’s like he's bringing me back to life from within. He explodes in me, screaming his orgasm in my ear, filling me up of his most precious sap. He gives a last reflex discharge in my body, before pulling out and leaving me full.
And to think I could have never experienced any of this…
Someone taps on the shoulder and I open my eyes. I'm back in the first tent.
There he is, sitting next to me, his face covered again, sipping tea.
— You talk while you sleep, he says.
— It looks like you had a very pleasant dream.
© All rights reserved — Charlie MP - 6/17/2021
Twelve years ago, Alpha Leonis said he had a lucid dream. The “Heavenly waves” – as he calls them – informed him that the end of our civilization was going to take place during his lifetime and begged him to create a people whose goal would be to repopulate the Earth. It's as stupid as it sounds but it was convincing enough for forty people to follow him and his new life purpose.
Initially, the guru was living with his followers in the Alps, but his cult Stars of Life was quickly spotted by the forest guards. 48 hours of police custody were enough for Antoine Mailleux (his real name) to move his cult as far as possible, in the Andes mountains.
My editor wanted me to infiltrate Stars of Life for a few weeks, just enough to write a report of the cult’s state, ways of life and activities.
— That’s all great Jean-Marc, but I doubt they have WI-Fi there. What if something happens to me?
— Fabien agreed to it already, I want him to take the pictures and he could protect you too.
The subject was back on the agenda on a weekly basis. To keep saying no made me look bad, so I ended up agreeing to it too.
Thanks to an old investigation, we knew where they were located, which was about a two-day hike from La Oroya. Other than that we were heading to the unknown. Fabien and I spent a long day coming up with details for our cover, in the event that the cult did connect to the outside world after all. We decided our names would be “Aurore” and “Raphaël”, we met in a vacation club, we’ve been married for three years, we cannot stand our routine anymore, we want to give a real meaning to our lives, etc.
That's how we ended up here, bivouacking in the middle of the Andes forest with a Peruvian guide. After an exhausting journey, we arrive at the entrance of a village made of mud huts. Crouching in a vegetable garden, a woman sees us and runs towards the central hut, the biggest one, shouting “Excellence!”. It starts off strong.
Fabien takes a quick photo before other followers see us. I only see about fifteen huts. After a decade in the Andes, it seems like the Stars of Life don’t reproduce very fast.
A man in a blue toga and a large group of people come out of the hut to see what is going on.
— ¡Hola mis amigos! ¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?, he shouts from afar.
We thank our guide, who leaves us promptly. I whisper to Fabien that we must get into our characters right away because they’re approaching. I expected to see long beards, unkempt hair, muddy faces. The men and women are combed, groomed, all in beige togas. The color coding makes him easily recognizable within the group even though everyone here knows who the guru is. Rather tall, brown long straight hair tied with a single elastic, eyes crinkled with a welcoming smile. I had seen photos of him before leaving, but seeing him now in real life, I must admit I find him a bit impressive. I can now witness the charm of the conman.
He extends a hand to Fabien and I.
— Bonjour, Fabien says.
— Oh you guys are French! That’s so great!
Obviously, there is no shortage of toothbrushes here because he could blind me with his pearly teeth.
— Tell me everything! What brings you here?
We spend the afternoon giving them all the details they want to know and we sometimes improvise what we didn’t anticipate. Everyone listens to us with interest, it's borderline intimidating. “Raphaël” even gets carried away, telling them he has a camera in his bag, which luckily didn’t seem to bother them.
— You know, says Alpha Leonis, we do not have electricity here. You can only recharge your batteries when some of us will be going to town next week.
I look around. We all sit on the ground on a carpet made of woven foliage. The women all lovingly look at the guru, men look at him with pride in their eyes. They gave each other star names like Beta Orionis or Gamma Pegasi...And since we tell them our intention to stay, they assign us star names as well. Fabien then becomes Beta Virginis and I Gamma Virginis. It sounds like the only Alpha-Something here is the guru, the men are Betas and the women are Gammas. A tad cheesy.
I leave Beta Virginis with the men and I’m getting closer to a group of Gammas who are preparing dinner. They have plenty of questions about France, which I answer, feigning my lack of interest for my own country.
— Sorry to be technical, I say, but... Where could we sleep tonight?
They all offer their hut, which goes straight to my heart but also indicates the thirst for new faces around here.
— What about the meals? I see there are many huts but you are all staying here, in the largest one... You always eat together?
A young woman who probably arrived here as a kid, teaches me that the other huts are only used for sleeping at night or for improvised teachings, that they spend the majority of their time in the central hut. When I ask who the couples are, they answer in unison “Alpha is our husband”.
— But you came here alone or with a boyfriend, husband?
— Some of us were accompanied, answers another woman.
— And the men let you marry Alpha? I mean… they let you go with him at night, all that?
I want to know if the guru claimed them all for sex and why the men would agree to that. I hear nervous, shy laughs. Another woman replies:
— It is an honor for men to offer their companion to Alpha.
— I don’t think Beta Virginis will agree to share me!
They laugh. And then one of them say:
— Oh, he will, you’ll see.
The potato soup arrives. Everyone regroups to sit on the floor even though there are tables and chairs around. Fabien sits down next to me. Alpha Leonis speaks.
— My dear friends, today is a very special day…
(I wonder what they eat on regular days if today is a treat.)
— …Two new people have joined us and we will welcome them as we should, by offering a teaching…
We look at each other with Fabien, honored, but a little apprehensive.
Alpha Leonis asks that two Gammas join him on the stage in the center of the room.
— …Dear newcomers, you are not without knowing the purpose of our existence here. Tonight, you will be witnessing our efforts to fulfill our destiny…
How didn’t I notice there are no children here?
— For the occasion, I will demonstrate in front of you an apprenticeship with Gamma Sagitarii and Gamma Cephei. Then you will be able to follow and do your learning with the people of your choice…
I look at Fabien with fear in my eyes. Are they going to make us do things right off the bat? Rite of passage or trick to make sure we are sincere?
Four followers start playing a slow rhythm with drums and congas. The room starts humming "Oms".
I glance at Fabien, as stunned as me. It definitely feels like a cult now.
Their eyes are glued to the stage but I can feel side looks from time to time, to check our reactions. I just smile, probably looking tense, keeping my eyes on the stage. The two Gammas turn around Alpha Leonis, moving their bust in an obvious game of seduction, the movement of their breasts under the gowns reveals the lack of bra. They dance around him as if it was all an innocent game. But then they grab the toga at the guru's feet and pull it upwards to remove it completely. He finds himself completely naked in front of us, just like that, with the beginning of an erection. The excitement is felt in the room. The “Oms” are stronger, the rhythm of the congas faster. Fabien and I are in shock but we’re trying not to let anything show.
— We offer our bodies to the Heavenly waves for procreation, he says.
And everyone in the room repeats the phrase. I am between the giggles and — I must admit — a slight arousal. It's not every day you see people naked, in these conditions.
Alpha Leonis then lies down on his back. The two Gammas squat on either side of him.
— Gamma Sagitarii, he continues, help the procreator in his task. He must be ready.
The guy talks about himself using the third person…Unbelievable.
Gamma Sagitarii takes the guru’s sex delicately in her hands, leans over and puts it in her mouth. The congas are accelerating. She eats it with so much devotion that it causes a slight tug in my lower abdomen. No one around reacts, not even Fabien who does not miss a thing. The show is surreal.
Once the guru is stiff with desire, he asks the two young women to remove their gowns, which they do without flinching and they also find themselves naked on stage.
— Gamma Sagitarii and Cephei, make your move.
As if they do this every day, they understand what Alpha Leonis means. Gamma Sagitarii turns backwards, inserts his penis in her before rubbing against his body. Her hips movements are so lascivious that I feel my body wanting it.
As for Gamma Cephei, she comes to sit on the face of the guru, who grabs her thighs and begins to lick her. The two Gammas seem happy to give him pleasure. They don’t hold any moaning back. The room is still humming but I start feeling the thirst for sex in the audience. My body seems to be enjoying the craziness of all this. I whisper to Fabien “this is nuts!” to which he replies “That bastard is the happiest man!”.
The minutes pass. They are really enjoying themselves on that stage. And finally, the guru gets up. With a strong, glistening cock in front of us, he looks in my direction so intensely that a very dirty thought crosses my mind. He puts Gamma Sagitarii in front of him on all fours and asks the two young women to kiss each other as he grabs Sagitarii’s hips and penetrates her. They kiss with obscene tongues. He watches them, jaw clenched. He thrusts his way harder into her, his flesh smacking against her offered body. He stares at me again. A look full of confidence, defying even, to make me understand he’s the boss here, that women do whatever he wants, that it could be me on stage with him if he decided to.
— Go now, he says to his audience, it is your time to teach and to learn.
Fabien and I look at each other in panic.
Now what? Congas stopped, the "Om" as well since the followers start their business right there and then. Most of them are already naked and have created small groups. Five of them come towards us. Seeing our distress from the stage, Alpha Leonis, in full effort, says:
— As I have not yet married you, Gamma Virginis, you can do it with your current husband, exceptionally.
— Could we do that in private instead? replies Fabien right away.
Still going back and forth in Sagitarii’s body like there is no tomorrow, he says:
— Take the hut of your choice then!
I feel so relieved.
We get up quickly to leave, but he calls from the stage:
— Come here, Gamma Virginis.
My contract doesn’t say I have to do whatever he asks me to do, but I need to play the game long enough to get enough for a story, so I approach the scene and end up a few inches from him and the two Gammas touching each other. From there, I can see that he’s in fact sodomizing Sagitarii. I want to tell him he’ll never get a child that way but I have a feeling he already knows that.
He plants his eyes in mine and with a little smile, says:
— You’ll think of me when you come tonight.
And he starts screaming like an animal, his eyes fixed on mine, as if his orgasm was just for me. I don’t know how he does it, but this arouses me so much I can feel the heat between my thighs.
Fabien takes me outside where it is now dark.
— What the fuck was that? he says.
— They offered us a giant orgy!
— This is so sick. But, interestingly enough, I have quite the boner.
— Too much information, Fabien.
— If we have to stay here for weeks, we’ll likely fuck like everybody else, so let’s be chill about this.
He's right. We either stop everything now and sneak out – which is impossible without a guide – or we enter the game and we’ll eventually see each other naked, at the very least. I certainly hadn't signed up for that.
— Did you hear he wants to marry me? Who does he think he is!
— He set this whole thing up just to have all the sex he wants, no doubt.
— What do we do now?
— Are you a little excited?
— What?! No!
— Really? Not even a little bit?
— Well… Maybe a little bit.
Behind us, in the central hut, the groans of followers rise. They really sound like beasts. In the middle of the night, surrounded by the forest, it feels like a very exciting joke.
— We can do whatever we want, I say, I don’t think they’ll notice.
Fabien never attracted me. He's not really my type but I’m so horny and he has a hard on, so that’s pretty much a match made in heaven.
— Ethically speaking, I say, we probably should only go play cards in that hut.
— Or we could relieve the pressure and take this as the best way to not blow our cover?
— Will it stay between us when we return to Paris?
— You don’t need to say.
— Do you have condoms?
— As a matter of fact, I do!
I no longer want to stop this train which has already left.
— You know, he chuckles, you're my wife here. So technically we're not doing anything wrong.
We enter a small hut and light the candle in the entrance. I was so far from thinking about having sex with him ten minutes ago. It may be the circumstances, the fact that we are far from everything, but I feel like I need this.
I approach him and take the condom from his hands.
— Let me do it.
He looks at me, surprised.
— Remember I'm your wife, so technically...
He laughs. I unbuckle and lower his pants. I find his cock, already tensed and this makes me want to be manhandled even more. I open the package and unroll the condom on him. I’m so ready but somehow a little nervous.
— Shhh, he says as if he wanted to reassure me.
He puts a finger under my chin to make me look in his eyes. He leans in to taste my mouth and then introduces a hungry tongue. Our moans betray our furious desire. He brings me down to the ground. I take off my shorts and my panties in a swift movement, while our mouths are still locked to each other. He places himself between my legs. His hands run through my hair and his cock penetrates my body without resistance.
— Wow… It feels like you really wanted this, he says.
— Shut up, Virginis! Focus on your marital duty.
He stirs in my body, searching our pleasure in the right place. The face of the guru suddenly appears in my mind: the way he was looking at me while crying out his orgasm and his pretentious “you’ll think about me when”…
The orgy noises in the background adds to my thirst. Fabien rolls his hips on me so well that I’m already close. My muscles clench his body as if I wanted to feel the veins of his cock from the inside. A heat radiates in my core. I can feel the warmth in my face and I know very well what this means.
— Do you mind if I come now? I say.
— Already? Am I that good?
He doesn’t even stop, he keeps a steady pace. I find myself thinking about the guru between my legs. His cock inside me would feel so good.
— Fuck me! I beg.
Fabien gives more energetic thrusts in my body.
It could be him, pounding my flesh with his. His face, his eyes on me…
— Slow down, I say. Slow down, slow down...Oh...Oh!
My orgasm comes with lusting images of the guru filling me with his sperm. Fabien, hearing my cries, does not hold back any longer and offers me the sound with the images.
He gives me three strong thrusts to sign his pleasure.
— Holy fuck! He says in a sigh.
It is while catching our breath, my legs opened and Fabien still inside me that I notice Alpha Leonis and the two Gammas at the door, looking at us with broad smiles. I’m not even moving. I’m very curious to know what he’s thinking about, seeing my half-naked body.
— Do you mind if we come in? he says without waiting for the permission to do so.
I secretly want Fabien to be fine with this, because I’m so fine with this.
Fabien looks at me as if to say “I’m ok with it if you’re ok with it.” to which I nod. He seems as thirsty as I am.
The two Gammas pull Fabien by the arm and they go in the corner of the room. Alpha Leonis, stands in front of me and peeks between my thighs.
— Did you think about me? He says replacing the collar of his toga.
— I don’t understand what you mean.
— Did thinking about me help you come?
Lust makes me want to share with him.
— Good. I want you do to something for me.
I reply “anything!” in my mind and realizes how crazy I’ve become.
— I want you to touch yourself while watching your husband pleasuring them.
— And then?
— What do you mean and then?
— What about you?
— I’ll watch you.
— And then?
— That’s it. I’m just here to observe.
My body craves his cock and nothing else, but he might give it to me if I touch myself. So I put my hands between my legs and start stroking my slit.
In front of me, the two Gammas rub their naked bodies against Fabien. He has not lost his erection.
— How does it feel? says Alpha.
— To watch them?
— Are you jealous?
I know he wants me to say yes, so I’m using the fact that I’m jealous of them having fun in front of me instead of us to answer him.
— Yes, very.
— Good. Do you want to make him jealous?
— Yes, very much so.
I come to my senses for a brief second, realizing I’m touching myself in front of Fabien who's getting into more serious action with two complete strangers. This is completely insane!
— Are you taking any pleasure? He asks.
— Sure, but I usually need a little help from a friend.
Fabien is penetrating Gamma Cephei on all four while Sagitarri caresses his balls and kisses him ferociously.
— Once we’re married, says Alpha, you’ll give me great pleasure.
— You’re so sure of that!
— I am.
— I didn’t know coming here that marrying you was part of the whole thing.
I stand up and face him. I look at him straight in his eyes.
— You’ll never have my body.
— Oh yes, I will.
— No. You’ll watch me do all the men here before I do you.
— How can you be so sure of yourself?
— You’re already mine.
He puts his hand between my thighs. Feeling his fingers right there feels so good I don't make a move. He inserts his index inside of me, watching the reactions on my face.
I want this fucker so bad…
He takes off his hand and leaves me hanging for more.
— Back on the ground, he says.
I lay on the ground and don’t even wait for him to say anything before touching myself again. I really want that release to be able to face that guy the only way I should face him: professionally.
— Stop! He says.
— Yes, stop, he says grabbing my hand. You’ll come when I’ll tell you to come.
What an irritating man. My pleasure was right there, just a few rubs away. He takes a chair, positions it in front of the threesome and sits on it.
— Come sit on my lap, he orders to me.
The thought turns me on so quickly I don’t feel like refusing. I sit on his lap, making sure to place my naked butt against his abdomen. The toga is thin, I can fell his cock underneath, beating with desire.
— Take off your shirt and lean on me.
I take of my top, my bra, and lean back on him so he can have a great view of my breast over my shoulder. I’m so wet I feel I’m staining his clothes.
— Watch them, he says.
One of the girl has Fabien’s dick in her mouth, the other one his balls, he’s so ready to come it’s visible.
— Tell me what you desire, he whispers in my ear like a snake.
His warm breath in my neck causes delicious shivers down my spine.
— Caress me again.
— Hmm… Good girl.
His hand makes his way between my legs. He plants two fingers in me and starts rubbing his palm against my clitoris. I’m so close…
— Why are you here? he asks.
I suddenly realize he may not be a naive as I thought he was.
— I wanted to find a greater purpose in life.
He takes off his hand and once again I feel the pulse stopping on the way up.
— No, why are you really here?
— I want to help with the destiny of our people.
He grabs my breast in his hands and caresses me, kisses me all over my neck.
— Tell me why you’re really here.
I feel stuck, caught in a lie.
— I don’t know why you want to hear.
— That you’re a cop...Or a journalist…
He slowly kisses my collarbone. I stay silent, not knowing where he’s going.
— …That you came here with an agenda, but your your agenda changed since you've met me.
— Is this what you want to hear?
— Then yes, I’m a journalist, I came here to write a column, I…
He puts his hand back between my legs and plunges his fingers in me.
— … I didn’t know that I would feel that way, I say.
— What way? Say it.
— I want you… I want you to fuck me so hard…
Satisfied by my response, he pulls up his toga and my butt now rubs against his cock.
— Do you want it? he says.
— Yes, yes please.
He lifts me up a and penetrates me on the way down. His cock is finally in me and I could scream right now. He fills me so nicely. His balls are so firm with desire.
— Lean back on me, watch them.
He moves in and out of me as best he can, I place my hand on top of his between my legs and I can feel his cock going back and forth in me with the tip of my fingers.
— You’re so professional, he says, going above and beyond for a column…
— Yes, and you love it, am I right?
— Good girl.
I feel the warmth back on my face.
— Look at them.
Fabien is releasing the pressure on Cephei and Sagitarri’s breasts, moaning like an animal.
— Now, come for me, he whispers in my ear.
I let him use me, completely offered in his arms and I come so fast, almost on command. My body is shaking, my heart is racing. I’m such a slut for letting myself go like this. I’m fucked by a weirdo in the middle of nowhere and it feel so good I can’t control my screams. My body eats his cock so frantically that I feel like I would fall from the chair if he didn’t hold me.
— I told you so, he says once I’m back on Earth.
I look at Fabien, he looks back at me, we’re not even in shock. I don’t know what they put in the potato soup here but definitely not a spoon of boundaries…
— Now, Alpha says, let’s talk about an arrangement for that article you want to write.
© All rights reserved — Charlie MP - 5/13/2021
Since firefighters aren’t paid their worth, they hold public parties at their fire stations, every 14th of July, to make some extra cash. I never been to one but my friend Carrie goes to their Ball every year since her brother takes care of the sound system. She insisted for me to join this year, advising me to bring a lot of 2€ coins, which is what the shot of alcohol cost.
I grew up in the countryside, where firefighters are usually retired guys or young volunteers from high-school, so I wasn't expecting much showing up at the 7th district station, other than flirting with random dudes, drinking, dancing, flirting a little harder, raising the elbow a little higher and crawling through the door at the end of the evening.
This is not exactly what happened.
On arrival, seeing them in their black t-shirt with the red stripe, standing straight like Douglas firs in their black boots, I thought all the regular guys who showed up had some crazy confidence because hello competition! But the first thing I hear over the loud music is: "Come on, let's go, the girls are all over them."
I'm looking for Carrie, who I just texted, telling her I arrived. I find her next to her brother, begging him to play "Call on Me" so that she can go rub herself against a few abdomens. Sylvain refuses, telling her that song was already reserved for something to come.
She comes with me to buy my first drink.
Bar tables in the courtyard are improvised, with cups already filled with punch and mojitos. Three firefighters are on the other side and one of them tells me:
— Good evening, need a stiff one?
The other two laugh. They’re lucky they're cute. I take a mojito and put one coin in their pot. The cheeky man winks at me before I turn around.
— Are they all like that? I ask Carrie once we're in the distance.
— They're nice, aren't they? I’d love to find Thibault so I could introduce you. He is the one with whom…you know…last year.
We dance, we sweat, we taste mojitos, and then the siren resounds and the music suddenly stops. Four firefighters stand on tables in each corner of the room. They wear the fire outfit and white masks cover their faces.
The girls are screaming.
The music Carrie wanted to put on earlier blows through the speakers. The firefighters start to move their hips in rhythm and it is hysteria. The girls press against the tables, raise their arms to touch them. I glance at the more senior firefighters watching the scene from afar. The show makes them laugh.
It’s not every day you get to see life heroes dancing seductively in front of you. Is the fireman who served me earlier behind one of these masks? The thought is exciting. Suddenly, they take off their jackets and find themselves bare chested, in suspender pants. The chick next to me puts two fingers in her mouth, hisses, and almost pops my eardrum.
You can say beauty is not everything, but when you’re just underneath it, you become a little bit of a beast. I don't even move fearing a movement would make me miss something.
As if they decide to finish us off, they drop the suspenders and in the same gesture their pants.
God damn it, that's too much fresh flesh in front of me! I knock back my mojito in one gulp.
One girl, completely hammered, climbs on one table and starts dancing with one of them. He doesn't even reject her. That gives two other girls the same idea.
Maybe I should too?
How many times in a lifetime can you touch the sweaty skin of a handsome fireman, huh?
I did not dare. I still know how to handle myself with a few drinks. But I am very jealous.
And the music ends, they grab their clothes on the ground and they leave as quickly as they came, in boxers.
With all this excitement I decide to go hydrate with alcohol (I know). The fireman who poured my drink earlier isn’t here.
— Isn't your friend here? I say to the other two.
— Who? Jerem?
— Maybe? Short brown-hair, about that height...
— Yeah, it's Jerem. He will be back soon. Do you want a drink?
— What's your name?
He hands me a cup with a large smile.
— Bottoms up, Melody?
His mischievous look tempts me too much, I finish the glass in five sips.
— Nice! he says, applauding. Here, I'll give you a free one.
I insist on paying for my two drinks but he asks for a kiss on the cheek instead.
Did I pass away? Me…being…in…Heaven... Right?
Going back to the dance floor, Carrie tells me I'm popular. But it’s the Jerem guy who I’m really interested in now. I liked his little wink and I have the impression — I could be wrong — that it was him on the table next to me during the striptease.
— This fire station is insane! I say. Do they hire them on photo or what!
— They put the cute ones in the front, it increases their pot, that's all.
The head of the station himself invites me to dance a salsa. I graciously accept, telling him I cannot refuse an order from the chief, which delights him. He's in his fifties and wants to have fun. So here I am, the queen of the salsa. It’s possible the three mojitos are helping. It is also possible the observing eyes of the other firemen boost my confidence. I have never had so much success! Fortunately, he holds me tight because I can feel the alcohol rising.
The song ends and he offers me a ticket for a free drink.
It's definitely not how they'll make money... So I go to the table to get yet another cocktail. Jerem is back.
— Are you enjoying your evening? he asks.
— Was it you on the table earlier?
He does not respond, but his smirk answers for him.
— Did you like the show? he says
— You guys shouldn't do things like that! I have a heart disease.
— Good thing you're in a fire station then.
— You like giving heart massages, is that it?
I’m loving the very obvious flirt vibe, how he's failing to stay professional, enjoying himself in the process.
— So, he says, need a stiff one?
Colleagues are still laughing. The alcohol makes me daring.
— Are we still talking about cocktails or are you proposing something that doesn't fit in that cup?
The colleagues laugh even more. And it looks like I just piqued his interest.
He invites me to dance, which I accept (of course).
He goes around the table and shows me the way, lightly pressing my back with his hand. This little touch sends heat to the pit of my stomach.
He dances in front of me, and I suddenly find it difficult to support his gaze. Flirting is always easy until things become a bit more serious. He plays with the awkwardness, staring at me. He puts his hand on my back to bring me a little closer. His moving hips, rubbing against mine, are making me so wet... I put my hands on his arms, their firmness aren't helping my case. I furiously wants him inside me now. I would let him take me as he sees fit.
I move closer, I want him to feel my breasts against his chest.
— Uh-oh, he said in my ear. You're gonna start something if you keep going…
He plants his eyes in mine. Feeling a bulge against my body triggers a shiver down my spine. He turns me on so much my body speaks its mind out loud:
— I always wanted to see the hose of a fireman deploy.
He bursts out laughing.
— Oh you dirty, dirty girl!
— I swear, it really, really, really has quickly become the biggest dream of mine.
He glances around, as if to verify no one is seeing us — or the other way around, I can’t tell.
— Do you want to visit the station?
He is serious, which almost makes me sober up.
— Are there girls who say no to that?
He seems to hesitate for two seconds and then he takes me by the hand.
— Come on, I'll show you.
My heart beats much faster than the music, and yet Sylvain is playing some techno right now.
We pass by the toilets, where a long line up of girls see us heading towards the corridor of the private quarters. I know very well what awaits me, that they may think I’m a slut, but tonight I wear vice as a badge of honor. I was chosen by a living God, I am the chosen one, get dressed Ashleys!
The music dissipates as we walk in this long corridor lit with white neon lights, way too bright for my eyes. While the crowd is far behind us, our footsteps can be heard again, a monstrous stage fright takes hold of me. What if he's used to all of this? What if I didn't live up to his expectations? It's nice to play tease but now...
He brings me into a room that seems to be his bedroom. It's a military style, very clean, simple. A bed, a table, a chair, a wardrobe. Nothing lying around.
He closes the door and turns to me.
— You can go out anytime, okay? You don't have to do anything you don’t want to.
Is he crazy or what? Has he ever tried to resist himself? Clearly not.
I steal his mouth. He grabs my face. His tongue makes its way between my lips and mingles avidly with mine. His mouth is slightly sweet, his moans set my body on fire. I run my hand over his pants and find an erection that could pop his fly. I pull his shirt up, our mouths part. There he is, shirtless in front of me. I run my fingers over his pecs.
— It was you! I say. No doubt.
— It was me, yes.
— You know, it was mysterious, that mask. To be honest, it turned me on a little bit.
— Oh yeah? Hold on.
He opens his closet, takes out the white mask and puts it back on his face.
OH FUCK I want him to fuck me like this.
He surely sees the lust in my eyes, because he says:
— Would you like it if I kept it?
My cheeks and my sex are on fire.
— You have no idea, I say, how much I want you to mess me up.
— Take off your jeans, sit on the bed.
Is he even aware that order alone could make me come at this point? I obey and find myself in underwear in front of him. I take off my top too. I hear a satisfied "Hm", muffled behind the mask.
He approaches and, with a movement of the hand, makes me spread my legs. He leans over and runs his fingers over the fabric. He kneels in front of me, grabs each side of my panties and pulls them down my legs. He plays the game, accentuating his head movements since I cannot see anything except his eyes. I hear him breathe behind the plastic. He seems to be as horny as I am. He admires the view between my thighs.
— I would lick you so well, he says, but for that I would have to remove the mask and I wouldn’t want to reveal my identity.
I feel like I'm in the best porn in the world. He is perfect.
— Put a finger then, or two...
My flesh is longing to feel his. Every second that passes is torture. I want to feel his weight on me, I want him to pound me like a vulgar doll, to hear him moan when he cums.
He pulls his thumb up inside me. He knows very well what he is doing. He shouldn't do too good of a job, I want to last a little bit more. Fortunately, he stops and gets up.
He is about to take off his pants but I stop him. He comes back to me. I pull down his zipper, sneak my hand in his boxers, grab his cock and pull it out of his pants. He takes a condom out of his pocket, opens it and unrolls it over his erection. I watch him do it, clearly experienced.
— Keep your pants, your boots, your mask. I want to fuck my fantasy.
He sneers behind the mask.
— As you please, miss.
He makes me get up, pops my bra. My nipples could cut glass.
— I want to see your breasts move.
— Well, let's everyone be happy.
He sits me down on the table and places one of my legs on the chair next to it. I can't wait any longer.
He approaches and puts the tip of his cock against me, teasing me for a second that feels like minutes. Feeling him about to enter my body turns me on so much I could scream. He pushes gently then goes in all the way, which makes me moan like I was deprived of sex for years.
There is a mirror behind the door and I can see some of the action. Watching his butt contracting in the effort while feeling the thrusts is unreal. I just hope he won't choke behind that mask, he's breathing so hard.
— I want you to cum in my ass, I say.
He stops short.
— Are you serious?
I do not need to beg him, I turn around, lean on the table and spread my legs. He continues to come and go inside me, while preparing my little hole with his fingers.
To feel someone introduce something there always turns me into a complete slut. I only offer my ass when it's deserved, or when I really want to get fucked hard.
He withdraws and puts his cock against me, entering slowly, and little by little, more rapidly.
I watch our reflection. This handsome fireman who comes and goes in my body to give himself some pleasure, whose head tilts back when it's too strong. I offer myself entirely to the living God. I want him to bless me from within. I pass my hand under my stomach to touch myself at the same time. He sees me doing it and lets out a "fuck!" which announces a near end. My fingers accelerate, following his rhythm. And suddenly he starts to moan, his thighs shake. My body sucks him dry and I feel like I'm receiving an award.
He slows down, until he comes to a complete stop. He takes off his mask to breathe better.
— Don’t move !
Still on his cloud, he complies with my request. I touch myself more energetically. Watching him in the mirror completely lost, feeling his cock in my body, his cum inside of me…Everything ... I'm leaving… My body eats him frantically. My brain is teeming. A state of utter wholeness sweeps over me as I moan my happiness on that old plywood table.
My body then relaxes and he waits, like a gentleman, for me to catch my breath to pull out.
Both satisfied, we return to the party as if nothing has ever happened.
I learn from Carrie the next day that Jerem had gotten engaged a month earlier, and that I had been, in a way, part of his bachelor party. I was extremely flattered.
© All rights reserved — MP Charlie - 5/4/2021
She took his hand. She wanted to make sure that the heat was diffusing into the skin tissue. In order not to affect the circuits, she had set the temperature to 27.3˚C. When this was the case, the skin not only felt warm, but it was also softer.
— Do you feel something? she asked him.
He decrypted the joy on Amaurée's face.
— What should I feel?
— Affirmative. My temperature is now at the standard parameters for proper operation.
XR-S8 was grateful to the one who had saved him. During the last raid, he had entered her home pretending to be a soldier of the Guard. As he had found all kinds of ploys and excuses not to eat or drink, she soon suspected he was not human.
By hiding XR-S8 in her basement, Amaurée was taking the risk of being reported by her neighbors because "anyone aware of cyborgs, rebels or deserter must report it to the State under penalty of correction” and for a year, the word correction had a macabre resonance. She had never understood why a whole section of civilization had to be decimated because of a handful of defective cyborgs. There was nothing violent about this one. As she stared him in the eyes he smiled, which made her smile too. He had noticed that a moderate smile calmed Amaurée by 25 percent. On the other hand, a smile a little too wide produced a peak of anxiety or sometimes a burst of laughter. So as soon as she looked at him, he smiled slightly, without showing his teeth.
— They never gave you a name?
— My name is XR-S8.
— I know that, it's tattooed on the back of your neck.
She thought about the choice that had been made for the color of his eyes, the delicate skin texture that had been chosen to coat his metallic male skeleton. It was assembled with special care. Some details had even been added to him, such as a mole above the eyebrow and a small birthmark on the neck. Not so surprising that she thought she was talking to a human at first.
— Do you want me to give you one? she says.
— A human name? If that makes things less formal, that would be great.
— Ulysses? Do you like it?
The cyborg nodded.
— Do you like music, Ulysses?
— Liking is not part of my configuration, but even if I do not understand its use, I have sometimes heard it and it wasn’t unpleasant.
— You do not understand the use of music? Get up.
He got up immediately. She asked the server to play Orville Peck's "Dead of Night", a perfect ballad to demonstrate the use of music. Then she moved closer to the cyborg and placed his hands on her hips.
— Relax your arms, she said, and follow what I’m doing.
He looked at her a little surprised by the request. He complied, however.
— It's good, it's really good, she said.
He couldn't decode the expression on Amaurée's face. Usually, humans chat or listen when they look each other straight in the eye like this. She rested her head on his shoulder, she suddenly wanted to. Being cradled, feeling another's warmth under her cheek was so nice. She hadn't danced like that for months, since the men had been mobilized in the Green Zone.
— You can run your hand through my hair… If you want, she said in a small voice.
— If I want?
— Yes, only if you want.
Ulysses would have done anything to thank her. He was happy to be able to execute this command, so strange and so easy at the same time. His fingers then made their way through Amaurée's hair, who couldn't help but sigh.
— What is that noise you made? he said.
— Don't worry, it's just feels very nice.
He just wanted to know if that noise was the cause of the sudden rise in temperature in his own system.
— Do you understand now, the use of music? she said.
She looked up to better appreciate his answer.
— Possibly, he said. It is meant to raise the temperature. Correct?
She stifled a laugh.
— Yes, a little… Hm… How can you explain a feeling you can’t feel…
— I shouldn't feel a rise in temperature?
Was this part of a real sensation? No cyborg, to her knowledge, could feel spontaneous internal fluctuations because no engineer had managed to create a code for it. Unless it was a programming error?
— Are you telling me your internal temperature changed while we were dancing?
— Affirmative. 0.8 degree.
— But why ? How?
— I do not know. Isn't that the use of music then?
She remained motionless, speechless. He smiled at her, not knowing how to get that expression of surprise off Amaurée's face. She asked the server to put the song back from the beginning. She wanted to get to the bottom of it.
— Dance with me again, she said.
She rested her hands around his hips and they started dancing again. If he was blushing, if he was breathing faster, if the expression on his face changed, she wanted to see it, so this time around she didn't take her eyes off him.
Ulysses received a message from his system “Internal emotion detected. Do you want to reboot to cancel internal emotion?”
He didn't want to reboot. He was curious about what else music had to offer. His temperature was rising slowly and it was not unpleasant. The heat was spreading through his abdominal region and he himself was surprised to find the change interesting. His system sent him another message, telling him that the human's heart rate in his field of vision had increased by 30 percent and their pupils were abnormally dilated. It wasn't an alert, just information. Wanting to know if the temperature was changing for Amaurée too, he went into thermal vision and saw that her ears, her cheeks, her shoulders were bright red.
— I can see your temperature is rising too, he said.
— Oh really?
She knew long before he told her she was getting a little turned on. His benevolence and his innocence attracted her. Was it possible that a human found a cyborg to her liking to the point of…
She wanted to kiss him. But was it reasonable to take advantage of the situation? Would he understand that a kiss is not a threat?
— You can kiss me, if you want, she said.
He started an internal search to find out what she meant by that. A brief video played and he got another message warning him that the appendix between his legs was about to straighten out for mating. Since he didn't understand what that meant he then launched another search and the video he saw caused a feeling he couldn't explain. He wanted to do with Amaurée the same thing he was seeing in the video, he felt the need to. Usually, he only felt needs when his survival was directly in question, but as he was not in danger with her…
While she waited for him to make up his mind to kiss her, Amaurée felt something hard against her stomach. She told herself it was not possible, that she was losing her mind. And then, glancing between the legs of the cyborg she had the confirmation.
— What in the…
— If you want to know what's going on, I'm not sure. But apparently, I'm ready for mating.
— This is impossible!
She took a little distance. She didn't want to jump on him even though she was suddenly craving it.
— I must really be horny, she blurted out.
— What's your order? What should I do now?
— What are you feeling? What do you want to do?
— Is this desire?
— That (she pointed to his crotch) means you want to… to put your penis in me. Is this what you want?
— Your heart is beating abnormally fast.
— Yes, it's because I would love for you to say yes. Have you never done that?
— I'm happy to take the controls, but you'll have to say stop if it's not pleasant, okay?
He nodded. While looking him in the eyes, Amaurée plunged her hand into Ulysses’ pants. She ignored the rather simple finish, because someone had bothered to give him a generous shape. Her insides were really starting to scream her envy. She wanted to go straight to serious matters.
— Undo the buttons on my shirt, she said.
Ulysses used delicacy, wanting to avoid hurting his host. He opened the first button, Amaurée had to catch her breath as her excitement was rising. Ulysses’ system sent him all kinds of messages that he decided to cut so as not to be disturbed. A second button popped, then a third. Amaurée was already on fire. Getting undressed by a robot, what a strange idea, what a pervert she was! She pulled her blouse to the side, pulled her breast out of her bra, took his hand and put it on it.
— Caress me…
The sensation of the skin against hers, even artificial, made her head tilt back. Her underwear was already soaked. She wanted that fake cock inside her. Ulysses restarted his system to understand what was happening. His appendix was now fully erect and he felt the incomprehensible urge to penetrate Amaurée. His system didn't tell him what to do next. He was alone now facing his new sensations.
— Take off your pants, she said, sit there.
The cyborg undressed and went to sit on the rocking chair in the corner of the room. She took off her blouse, her bra, and then she swayed while removing the rest to finally find herself naked in front of him. He was staring at her, his erection pointing the sky. At the same time he was playing a mating video in his right eye while he was decoding Amaurée's body, he was impatient to know about this activity which he had not been made aware of.
She came over him…
— Ready? she said.
She impaled herself on his cock, looking him straight in the eyes. Feeling his flesh in hers made her moan. Ulysses perceived the heat of her body, but he also discovered with amazement that he could feel the pleasure of Amaurée at the same time. Seeing the cyborg's stunned expression excited her even more. She grabbed Ulysses’ hands to place them on her butt and she began to roll her hips on him, using the movements of the chair to eat him better.
— What are you feeling? she said.
— I think I'm picking up your emotions. There, for example, I just received a signal.
Really? Had they put a sensor in his device? Did he also feel her thirst, the pleasure she felt waving on a cyborg? She stirred harder to squeeze in the right place at a steady pace.
— Do you feel my pleasure rising?
— Affirmative. I get all the data from your muscles, your temperature, your brain.
— Really? And do you like what you feel?
— Can you know what I'm thinking here?
She almost came, just knowing he was hearing her dirty thoughts.
— Yes, he continued, answering a question she was about to ask, I do not mind trying.
He thrust his middle finger deep into Amaurée's butt. He felt the sensation she felt when push something into her anus, the pressure in her flesh, her muscles, the heat, the urge and the loss of control that increased as she busied herself on him. She pulled the cyborg against her to have his head between her breasts. He let it go, knowing her impulses even before she put them into practice, feeling the pleasure it gave to Amaurée, and by extension, the pleasure he received from them.
— Yes, he replied, I really like what you do to me. It's very nice ... I don't know what orgasm means. Oh, I see now. Yes, I want to feel your orgasm.
She couldn't hold it any longer. She kept telling herself she was having sex with a cyborg, that he had a finger in her ass and that he could feel her pleasure and the heat rose in her abdomen, blood rushed to her temples, her muscles bit frantically the appendage of metal and flesh. She started screaming "Oh yes fuck me, fuck me, fuck me Ulyyyysse!”. The system sent the cyborg a multitude of messages at the same time that meant absolutely nothing but he was sensing the signals from each of Amaurea's cells. The pleasure was so intense, so condensed, so confusing that he was getting restart alerts. Amaurée exhausted herself on him. He let her breathe, still feeling the pulsation of her muscles around him, receiving signals from the heart that was pounding way too fast, and then a feeling of absolute calm.
— Fuck, that was good, she blurted out.
— I think my system is overheating. It asks me to reboot. I ask you for a minute.
He died for a minute.
She stood back up and observed him. His eyes were open but he was clearly absent. She hoped he would request to repeat the experience. She could even teach him a few things… There were unknown pleasures to hide a cyborg in her basement after all.
© All rights reserved — Charlie MP - 21/1/2021
Eglantine was walking with her parasol, alone as usual, in the forest of Rambouillet. She was a dreamer, a romantic who spent her afternoons in the sun, stretched out on the grass, finding shapes in the clouds. Her mother wanted to marry her to a cousin she knew nothing about. He lived far away, he was much older than her, and she didn't care much for him.
That day, she wanted to stop on the way. She had laid down on the side of the road and pulled her skirts up to her knees to take advantage of the sun’s rays. A coach was approaching. The sound of its wheels and horse hooves in the dry earth brought her out of her dreams. She straightened up quickly. When it rushed past her, she was surprised to see so many delicate ornaments. She had never seen one so luxurious, and yet she was from a good family.
The coach made a few meters then slowed down. Probably lost, she thought. A woman with a headdress as tall as a wedding cake emerged. Even though she was a little far away, Eglantine knew she was a silk dress. With her gloved hand, the woman motioned for her to approach. Eglantine hurried to meet her.
— What's your name, my dear? the woman said to her.
— Eglantine de Varennes, Madame.
The woman ogled her up and down with a slight smile.
— Please, she continues motioning to the door. The King would like to meet you.
— The King, you say?
— In person. Don't make him wait, my dear, hurry up.
This request was so fortuitous… Nothing made sense.
Stunned by the news, Eglantine climbed into the carriage. It was once inside that she realized that the curtains on the windows had misled her. The King was not waiting for her at the castle, he was sitting opposite her. She hastened to bow her head.
— Right, right, he said. Catch your breath, Mademoiselle.
Eglantine took her place next to the woman. In front of her, he was sitting erect, a cane between his legs on which he rested his hands. She thought she was in a dream and quietly pinched herself. He wore a short wig with gray hair. His serious face reminded him of his father's friend. His features weren't the most graceful, and he had a slight plumpness barely concealed under a buttoned jacket. He had, however, an indisputable charisma. To the King's right was a young man whom she did not recognize. The woman tapped on the ceiling to restart the coach.
— If I had known Majesty, that I would have the immense privilege of speaking to you today…
— What would you have done differently? he said.
— I would have ordered madeleines for example. People say you love them. And I would have worn my best dress.
He glanced imperiously at her cleavage.
— This one perfectly fine. Don't fret.
The coach picked up speed.
— Excuse my ignorance, Majesty, but I do not know your guests.
The man spoke.
— Baron de Chablis. Nice to meet you.
— And I am his wife, the Baroness of Chablis. We have just returned from a few days in the countryside which were very appreciable.
— Very appreciable, indeed, said the King.
— Forgive me, said Eglantine, but I would like to understand the honor I’ve been given to me to share your trip.
The King smiled then glanced at the Baron.
— I like your curiosity, my dear. Come and sit here, he said, pointing to his right.
The Baron swapped places with her.
She found herself so close to the King now that she dared not look at him. It was to observe her better that he made her sit down next to him. The Baron and the Baroness were also examining her, with a benevolent gaze.
— It is no stranger to you, my dear, that I still do not have a son.
— Well, he continues, it looks like this is your lucky day. How about you bear the King's Child?
Her heart sank. The proposal was most incongruous. He was his father's age, she had life ahead of her. She quickly looked for an idea to politely decline.
— Majesty, you do me a great honor, but I am already promised to a man. We are getting married shortly. I cannot decently ...
— How so? he said. My dear, think about it more at length. You would have a very special place at the King's court, for life.
The Baroness, seeing Eglantine's distress, reassured her.
— Your future husband will not mind. This is a royal request.
— Majesty, said Eglantine, why me? Are there not better families than mine for such an important task?
He smiled at her.
— My dear, you are not the first to whom I make this proposal. Some said yes but so far they have only given birth to girls. Others continue their little favors for the chance to give birth to my boy.
Was it crazy to refuse such an offer? Live life at the King's court… What would her parents say?
In front of her, the Baroness brought her face closer to the Baron’s, opened her mouth and kissed him obscenely, not taking her eyes off Eglantine. The latter glanced discreetly at the King to see if it bothered him but he seemed to be delighted with what was happening in front of him.
— See, he said, how these two love each other.
The Baron passed his hand through the neckline of the Baroness who let out a sigh.
— Have you never seen such a spectacle? he continued.
— No, Majesty, never.
— If you refuse my offer, at least you will have enjoyed your travel with us with your eyes.
Eglantine knew nothing about love. She heard her mother talk about it when she was drunk one night but she only was able to imagine what happens on the surface until now. She felt an exquisite warmth between her thighs. Despite the lack of manners, she wanted to see more.
The Baron undid the corset, let it fall to the ground, releasing his wife's breasts and came to lick them. Eglantine swallowed. She imagined what it would be like to feel a mouth on her chest, a tongue sliding over her skin. It was very hot all of a sudden.
The King was checking her out of the corner of his eye. He didn't see any displeasure on Eglantine's face, but a lot of curiosity, which enchanted him.
The Baron passed his hand under the skirts and plunged a finger into his wife. She gave a little cry and then gave Eglantine a mischievous look.
What was happening was incomprehensible but so pleasant. The fact that the King did not put an end to the situation made her to think her own surprise was due to her inexperience. She wanted to see the act until the end, to know what it was supposed to be like to ensure the King would be satisfied with her. Because yes, with the excitement, she had decided she would give herself to him.
The Baroness placed her hand on her husband's crotch. It was then that Eglantine noticed a bulge in his pants. The woman opened them up in a skilful movement and let out a sigh of pleasure. Eglantine could not take her eyes off the thing.
The King was delighted. Not only was she not afraid of it, she looked like she wanted to touch it.
The Baroness pulled up her skirts to the top. She was not wearing panties and Eglantine had a brief glimpse of her bush. She came to sit upside down on her husband's knees. In one movement, she impaled herself on him, sighing with happiness. She leaned forward a little and grabbed Eglantine's hands as if to involve her in the action. The Baron, beneath her, moaned into his mustache, giving her good thrusts with his cock. Eglantine felt a delicious pulsation, some sort of heartbeat in the hollow of her skirts. Watching the Baroness having so much pleasure made her want to join in.
— Isn't that divine? said the King. How are you feeling, my dear? Don't you want to try it yourself?
— I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t want to, Majesty.
The King had mischievous eyes.
The Baroness moaned even louder, lasciviously, which excited the young woman to the highest point. She wanted to feel the same, to know what it was like to feel a man in her body. The Baroness took Eglantine's hand and placed it on one of her breasts.
— There, she said. Like that.
Eglantine stroked the breast. Feeling the heat of a body other than hers under the pads of her fingers, seeing the pleasure that her curious hand gave on the face of the Baroness made her even hotter. As for the King, he could no longer hide his erection. Seeing the young woman so easily entering the game titillated him more than he could have hoped.
— Would you like to sit here, my dear? said the King, putting his hand on his lap.
Eglantine was so excited that the idea tempted her now.
— You mean, in the same way as Madame De Chablis? she said timidly.
— Precisely. If you fancied distracting yourself a little bit with a King…
She appreciated that he did not force her. She took off her panties.
— Majesty, dare I ask you to undo my corset?
The Baroness got up immediately and came to do it for her. She quickly undid the laces and knocked the corset to the ground. Eglantine got ready to sit on the King but the Baroness stopped her in her tracks.
— Get him out of his pants first, she said.
Eglantine approached the King.
— Can I?
A smile full of vice lit up the King's face.
— Please, do, he said between clenched teeth.
She did it very delicately not to hurt the King, and he was turned on even more by the time she took to open the present he was about to give her.
She grabbed his cock and pulled it straight out. She had never touched one. It never occurred to her that it could be so soft. His was a little smaller than the Baron's, but for a first time, she was almost relieved.
— Come, Mademoiselle, said the King, now impatient to plant himself in her body.
The Baroness helped her lift her skirts and, just before Eglantine impaled herself on the King, took hold of the latter's cock and led it herself into the young woman.
The pleasure he felt made him scream.
— Oh how narrow you are! Oh ! Velvet! I won't last long!
Eglantine found the sensation divine. The King was indeed not so spoiled, which helped welcoming him without difficulty.
— Rub yourself against him, said the Baroness,
Eglantine rubbed herself as best she could. She even found pleasure in doing so. The King clung to her chest, fiddling her as if he hadn't touched a young woman for a long time. Facing them, the Baroness and the Baron set to work again.
There were now four moaning people in that carriage. The men were lost in their pleasure, the women stared at each other, their faces contorted with desire.
— His cunt is so sweet! moaned the King.
— Your Majesty, you’re doing it divinely, said the Baroness.
The King was panting. The buttocks of the young woman came to bang against his belly, and the sight made him feverish.
The Baroness stretched out her arm and passed it under Eglantine's skirts where she found the King's cock, stiff with emotions, coming and going inside her. The young woman, knowing nothing about it, thought the Baroness was only trying to make sure the operations were running smoothly. She also enjoyed the touch of that hand there, so much so that she didn't ask her to remove it. The Baroness was actually maneuvering to get Eglantine to come.
Suddenly the King began to cry.
— Oh ! God Almighty ! Rah! Ah!
Thinking she was hurting him, the young girl did not dare to move. The Baroness redoubled her vigor to make the king believe he was pleasuring Eglantine well. She approached and focused on the young woman.
— Let yourself go! she said. Cum on the King.
She rubbed her button more rapidly. Eglantine couldn't help but stir on him again, not really knowing what “cum” meant. She thought she was fainting, dying, a new sensation ran through her whole body. She wanted to catch her breath but it was cut off, the time for a delicious moment when nothing more than this feeling between her thighs mattered. The King ejaculated in her, and she was there, offering her body to people she knew nothing about an hour ago. She began to utter little groans, masked by the cries of the Baroness who, witnessing Eglantine’s orgasm, could no longer hold it and came at the same time than her.
The coach smelled of debauchery. Inside, the four travellers were catching their breath.
With one hand on her buttocks, the King requested Eglantine to get up. His shiny cock was still oozing.
— I think my son was born here. My word ! You made me lose my mind!
— Sorry Majesty.
— What do you mean sorry? Don't talk nonsense, my dear. I would do it all over again if I could!
He ran a hand on the chest of Eglantine, as its new owner. She was thrilled she was able to satisfy the King.
The Baron, silent until now, spoke:
— Very good choice, Majesty. This young woman knows how to drive a man crazy with her eyes.
— Oh, rascal, you! said the King. Looking at her helped you finish your task, didn’t it!
— Well, well. The day has only just begun. If she's in the mood, maybe she'll satisfy you once again when we arrive.
The King glanced proudly at his new conquest.
Eglantine understood that the King lent his women to his friends and the idea, instead of shocking her, enchanted her.
© All rights reserved — Charlie MP - 3/4/2021
I'm going to translate the short stories I post on this site, little by little, since some of you would like to read them in English.