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It's not easy to bargain with demons, which Eddie discovers the hard way after he escapes death by trading his soul to the demon Azir, a handsome and charming resident of Hell. Azir promises to return Eddie's soul in exchange for allowing demons the use of his body for their own amusement. It's the last deal he wants to make, but if he wants to save his soul, it may be his only choice.
by
alex_izeri
· 03 Dec 2023
Eddie allows Dwerk the imp to possess him, but it's Nick, the incubus, who finds a way to entertain them both.
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by
alex_izeri
· 22 Dec 2023
Morning-after regret and all kinds of awkwardness await Eddie before he even has his first cup of coffee. As he and Nick embark on an epic quest to clean his basement, he discovers several things his grandfather kept hidden, including a strange old ring.
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An outcast dragon in the middle of mating season, Myr seeks relief in the only place he can find it -- with humans. Using his powers of mental persuasion, he compels a young woman into the forest and uses her to satisfy his burning desires.
It’s hard to be alone. There’s no one to tell you simple things, like why dragons don’t like the snow. It’s not that we have anything against snow—it’s pretty, all shiny white, and it makes the neatest crunching sounds under our feet. It’s that the shit is cold. And dragons don’t do well in the cold. I learned that the hard way.
It was autumn when I crossed the mountains. I think that’s the only reason I survived. The snow had receded to the highest peaks and the shadiest valleys, and I was at the crest before I discovered my error. I stood, staring down into a beautiful, green valley, full of rivers and trees and small villages, and—most importantly—no sign of another dragon. It was paradise. And the only thing between me and the respite I desperately needed, was a north-facing slope covered in deep snow and broken ice fields.
The ice was easy enough to navigate. My talons pierced the glassy surface and kept me from sliding, but the cold burned up through the scales of my feet, stealing the heat out of my legs. My muscles began to cramp. Then I hit the snow, my feet breaking through the icy crust and plunging into the wet slush beneath. I could literally feel the warmth bleeding out of my body, each step slower and more laborious than the last, my heart rate dropping to one or two beats a minute.
It was all I could do to keep moving. I just wanted to lie down and sleep, but I knew if I did, I’d never wake up again. Old dragons sometimes bruminate in ice caves, their body temperature dropping to just a few degrees above freezing, sleeping for a hundred years or more, but I was not nearly big enough to withstand something like that. So I pushed on, slogging through the melting snow and icy mud until I reached the treeline. I found a large, flat rock and curled up on it like a cat, basking until my temperature returned to normal.
Of course, once it did, the full force of my rut returned, the desire to mate singing through my blood. My cock hardened, making it uncomfortable to walk as I struggled to keep it from emerging from my body. The last thing I wanted was to get my dick caught in a blackberry bramble.
Slinking through the forest, I found the bank of a river. I drank my fill and snapped up a fish that got too close, but my hunger was not for food. I needed a different kind of satiation. I walked the riverbank, my long, black forked tongue flicking out to smell the air. I detected the scent of deer and rabbits, foxes and quail. None of that interested me, and then I found the a trail reeking of horse and human. I could smell their sweat and the smoke from their fires. I was near a village.
I crossed at their shallow fording place and found a marshy area nearby where I could roll in the mud to cover the ghastly white patches that marred my otherwise flawless dark blue and gold scales. It didn’t change anything, of course. I was still a freak, but at least I didn’t stand out like a pile of snow in the forest. I followed the trail to the edge of the woods and there it was, a human settlement, maybe fifty cottages and farms, surrounded by fields and meadows.
I nestled my long, sinuous body into a hollow beneath a fallen tree and settled down to wait for dark. Waiting, however, is not easy when your blood is boiling with mating hormones. It reminds you of how hard it is to be alone, which makes you think about why you’re alone, which makes you angry and bitter. It wasn’t my fault that I was born piebald, nor was it my fault that my mother was slaughtered by dragon slayers days before my clutch hatched, and was therefore unable to kill me at birth. And yet, every other dragon I’ve met has made it clear that my very existence is a personal insult to them.
Myrrusch is what they call me. It means ‘ugly’ and ‘bad omen’, but since I never had a mother to give me a name, I decided it would have to do. So, I’m Myr, the dragon of bad omens. I suppose for the people of this village, that’s true enough.
~*~*~*~
I crept through the darkness, a shadow moving across their fields, over fences, into the silent, empty lanes between their cottages. I paused outside each small, stone dwelling, reaching inside with my mind to search out the occupants, much as I might flick my tongue to search out a smell. That’s one way dragons communicate. We have spoken language, of course, but when we want to speak to a lesser creature, it must be done mind to mind. I wasn’t speaking to anyone, not yet, just touching their thoughts, getting a taste of them. Searching for the right one.
I found her in a small cottage, a young woman dreaming of sunshine and flowers. Her mind was like an open door, inviting me in. Some humans are more closed, those who have suffered hardship and loss. They build walls to protect themselves. The walls can’t keep me out, but breaking in is more difficult, more likely to be noticed. If a human realizes what I’m doing, they can resist me, which usually leads to all kinds of trouble.
I slipped into her dream, watching her dance across a field of wildflowers, surrounded by birds and butterflies as I sifted through her thoughts. Her name was Victoria, she was eighteen years old, and the son of a farmer had just asked her to marry him. She had said yes. No wonder her dreams were so bright and happy. I almost felt bad for needing to wake her.
A soft, gray kitten appeared, bouncing and frolicking around her feet as she teased it with a long stalk of grass. I watched for another moment, then took a breath and blew out a ball of blue flame, setting the kitten on fire. It shrieked as it writhed in the grass, blackened flesh turning to ash. Victoria screamed and the dream shattered as she jerked awake.
I pulled back to the surface of her thoughts as her fear and disorientation washed over me. Human emotions are strange things and best experienced from a distance. I waited until she had calmed down, and then I pushed in again, soothing her lingering unease.
It was just a bad dream, I whispered into her mind, keeping my touch soft so she would think it was her own thought. It’s stuffy in here. Some fresh air would be nice. Step outside. It’s a beautiful night.
I felt her balk at the thought of going outside, into the dark where the scary things lived.
The village is safe, I whispered. Don’t go far, just open the door and step out.
I heard the bed creak as she got up, heard her quiet footsteps as she walked to the door. She slid back the bolt and pulled it open, taking a hesitant step outside. I shrank back into the shadows between her cottage and the next. Her mind wasn’t ready to see me yet.
So pretty, I whispered into her thoughts. Look at the stars, so bright and clear. Feel the breeze. The air is so fresh. It’s so peaceful here. The forest must be beautiful at night. I wore down her apprehension, like a river wears down a stone, until she left her doorstep, her bare feet making no sound on the dirt road. I followed, keeping just a few paces behind her, as she headed for the forest.
It wasn’t hard to keep her walking, just repetitive and dull. Pretty stars, go to the forest, it’s safe, blah blah blah. Human minds are weak, soft things, so malleable, so fragile. I had to be careful not to get impatient and push too hard. Push a little too hard, and they realize you’re in there and shut you out. Push a lot and their mind turns to mush. I’ve only done that a couple of times, but it was more than enough. Humans might be lesser creatures, but that didn’t mean I wanted to harm them.
She reached the edge of the wood and she stopped, her fear rising up again, pushing me back. I dug into her thoughts, searching for the source of her unease. When she was a child, her parents told her that wolves lived in the woods and that she should never play there. Which I think was a lie. I didn’t smell a single trace of wolf anywhere in the forest, not even an old scent. They just didn’t want her getting lost or falling in the river. Sensible, but it made my life harder.
All the wolves are gone, I told her. Hunters chased them away. Everything is safe. Hear the river? Listen to the music of the water. It’s so peaceful. I gave her just a bit of a mental nudge, forcing away her fears. Soothed, she followed the path into the forest. I could see just fine, but I guess humans have fairly poor vision because she kept tripping over roots and walking too close to brambles. It made progress agonizingly slow.
Finally, we made it to the riverbank. Then came the hard part.
I had to find a way to reveal myself to her without causing her to completely freak out and shatter the rapport I had been building within her mind. Once again, I sifted through her thoughts and memories, looking back into her childhood, to stories she had been told. Not all were cautionary tales or lies meant to keep her out of trouble. Some were just stories, meant only to entertain, but they turned out to be the most useful.
Such a lovely night, I whispered to her. The kind of night when the forest guardian wanders the woods, protecting the trees and creatures. Wouldn’t it be something, to turn around and see the benevolent guardian spirit? Turn around and don’t be afraid.
I held my breath as she slowly turned, her eyes growing wide at the sight of me. This was one reason why I took her so far from the village—if she screamed, I had plenty of time to get away. I flicked my tongue and tasted the sour scent of her fear, but she just stared up at me, her whole body shaking.
Hello, human, I said, using a deeper, firmer mental voice so she wouldn’t recognize it as the voice in her head. Are you here to harm my forest or my creatures?
She shook her head, her mouth falling open. She tried several times before she managed to speak.
“N-No, great Guardian. I won’t hurt anything.” She had a pleasant voice, for a human.
I tilted my head to one side and looked down at her from one eye, as if scrutinizing her.
Are you sure? Humans often come into my forest to cut my trees and hunt my creatures.
“Not me, I swear!”
Prove it, I said, smirking to myself as I took a step toward her. Get on your knees. I added a bit of compulsion, like a caress in her mind, making her want to obey me. She was so distracted by the ‘guardian spirit’, she didn’t even notice.
She gathered up her nightdress so it wouldn’t get dirty and stepped over to a pile of leaves so she wouldn’t kneel in the mud, her face shining and open as she looked up at me, eager to do whatever I asked of her.
Ah, you are one of the good humans, I said, watching her beam with pleasure. I don’t do this very often, but I feel like bestowing upon you a great gift. Do you want it?
“Oh, yes please, Guardian,” she breathed. “I would be honored.”
Very well. I will let you touch the source of my power. It will grant you health and long life and happiness.
I moved closer, until I practically stood over her, my back feet planted on either side of her. Finally, I could relax and let my hard, aching cock slide out of my body. It hung in front of her, a glistening black rod of throbbing need, the tapered tip already leaking thick drops of precum.
Victoria dropped her gaze to the ground, blushing all the way down to the soft mounds of her breasts showing above the neckline of her dress. She might be innocent, but she wasn’t completely ignorant.
What’s the matter? I asked. Does my gift offend you?
“No, of course not, I just—”
Then touch it. I pushed the compulsion a little deeper into her mind, gratified when she raised her delicate hands and ghosted her fingertips over my slick cock. You can do better than that. Touch me, stroke me, worship me, or I will find another forest to nurture, and let this one crumble to dust.
“Please, don’t leave us, Guardian,” she said, doing her best to wrap her hands around my thick shaft. I struggled to hold still as she stroked up and down my length, the muscles in my groin twitching as I resisted the urge to thrust. I wanted to fuck something so bad.
Taste me, I told her. If you truly appreciate the gift I am giving you, drink of my power. One more soft, mental caress and she leaned close, her lips parting. Her hot tongue slid over my sensitive flesh, lapping up the nectar that dripped from my cock. I didn’t understand it then, but I know now that dragon precum and semen is chock full of pheromones. It’s how we find each other when we’re ready to mate—a chemical signal on the wind—but when humans get a taste of it, it acts like an aphrodisiac, making them unnaturally horny.
I flicked my tongue, the forest suddenly perfumed by her arousal, her temperature rising a few degrees, the heat centered between her legs. She forgot her earlier reluctance, running her hands up and down my cock, her tongue teasing the tip as she wrapped her lips around the tapered head, the forest echoing with her soft moans and loud slurps as she tried to suck the fluid out of me.
You please me, human, I said, twisting my long body around until I encircled her. I have another gift for you. I pushed my narrow muzzle between her knees, under her dress, the heady scent of her pussy almost overpowering. She made a noise of surprise and protest, muffled somewhat by my cock in her mouth, but I just pressed my nose between her thighs and flicked my tongue against her wet lips.
She gasped, my cockhead slipping from her mouth.
“Oh, please—You can’t! I-I’m a good girl, and that is so, so wicked!”
Does it feel wicked? I asked, licking again at her quivering mound. Or does it feel so, so good? I pushed my muscular tongue between her slick folds, rubbing against her swollen clit until she squealed with pleasure. I took advantage of her distraction to weave my tendrils deeper into her mind, eroding her will. She was almost mine.
I brought her to the brink of release, her hips rocking wantonly as I drew back, leaving her mewling with need. She reached out toward me, but I stepped away, my stiff cock swaying back and forth between my hind legs.
I have one last offer for you, I said. If you accept, I will bless your entire village with safety and prosperity. Think carefully before you answer—I will never make this offer again.
“I accept,” she said, rising unsteadily. “Please, tell me what I must do to earn your blessing.”
I raised my gaze to the spreading branches overhead, picking a sturdy one within reach. Bracing one forefoot against the trunk of a nearby tree, I sat up on my haunches, my long tail stretched out for balance. My rigid cock stood straight up against my scaled belly, the precum running down the shaft and glistening in the moonlight.
Come to me; let me hold you.
Victoria stepped toward me, but hesitated.
“You’re covered in mud. I don’t want to get dirty.”
I thought about telling her that she was already a dirty girl and not to worry about a little mud, but I sensed that would not go over well. I picked through her memories and found several from long ago, of an older girl at school who used to push Victoria into the mud whenever she got the chance. Victoria would get in trouble for ruining her clothes because she was afraid of the girl, and now her distaste of anything dirty was so deeply ingrained there was no getting around it. With a sigh, I dropped back down on four legs and headed for the river.
Don’t move, I told her, pushing the command firmly into her mind to make sure she wouldn’t wander off. I slipped down into the cold, rushing water, rolling and rubbing against the rocky bottom until I felt my heartbeat start to slow, the water draining the warmth from my body. I crawled out and gave myself a shake, but the water still streamed from my smooth scales, pattering against the carpet of fallen leaves.
Feeling a little sluggish, I returned to Victoria. She hadn’t moved a muscle in my absence.
Good girl, I told her, returning to my previous position. My cock had retreated into my body to escape the cold water, and now slid out again, a thick spear of aching flesh. You should take off your dress, just to be safe, I said to her. You don’t want it getting dirty.
Obediently, she pulled the thin nightdress off over her head and draped it over a bush. She was fair of flesh, her skin smooth. She had ample breasts with dark nipples, and a tightly curled thatch of golden hair between her legs. She waited, staring at me with glassy eyes, not seeming to care that she was standing naked in the woods. She was mine.
I called her to me and she came, letting me pick her up by the waist. She wasn’t heavy, but I had to be careful—my talons were very sharp and human flesh was about the most fragile thing imaginable. Let me tell you, nothing puts an end to the hanky-panky like an accidental disembowelment.
I pulled her up against my chest, savoring the warmth of her body.
Wrap your arms and legs around me, I told her. Hold on tight.
She gripped me with surprising strength and I let go of her, reaching up to grasp the branch instead, stretching my long body straight up into the air. For several minutes, neither of us moved, and then she began to slide. My wet scales were as slick as glass, giving her little purchase. Her body inched downward and my cock strained upward, throbbing with need as I felt the heat of her pussy against the tip. It touched her moist lips and she squirmed back up my torso.
I could feel the muscles in her arms and legs trembling, tiring from the strain of holding on. She slid again, palms flat against my back, sweaty flesh squealing against smooth scales as she fought to stop her descent. It was a hopeless struggle, but I admired her fortitude as she dug her knees into my sides and inched back up my body. The anticipation was the most delightful kind of torture, my aching cock fully extended and still unable to reach the warmth of her supple flesh. I could feel the heat of her each time she neared my cock head, only to have her squirm away again.
We were both trembling and out of breath when her strength finally gave out and she slid down my body, my cock sinking into her like a heat-seeking missile. She cried out in surprise as the tapered tip penetrated her virgin body, tearing through her maidenhead and filling her tight channel. It was the most amazing feeling, the way her inner walls squeezed and gripped my sensitive flesh, her body squirming against me as she tried to pull herself up again. It did no good. Every movement made her sink farther, take me deeper, her pussy stretching wide to accommodate my increasing girth.
Finally, I could take it no more. I ripped my talons free of the branch and reached down, gently cradling Victoria against my body, holding her still. Groaning low in my throat, I clenched the muscles in my groin, retracting my cock until I almost slipped out of her. I think she thought we were done, because I felt her relax, and then I thrust upward again, plunging deep into her slippery tunnel. She cried out, her body arching against me, but I held her tight, pounding into her.
I was far too big for her to take my entire length, but she managed a good ten inches, screaming and bucking and clawing at my chest as she came again and again, her lithe form wracked with waves of pleasure until she went limp in my arms, passed out from the ecstasy.
I wasn’t far behind her, my thrusts growing faster, harder, my blood surging with an urgency I couldn’t control. Dizzy with rut lust, I gasped and snorted, smoke boiling from my nostrils as I drove deep into her pussy and came, shuddering waves of pleasure shaking me to the bone as I dumped a massive load of cum into her small, human womb, the thick, hot cream filling her tight channel and overflowing, running down the length of my mighty rod.
Sated for the moment, I carefully lifted her off of me, my cock softening and retracting back into the safety of my armored body. She moaned as she regained consciousness and I set her on her feet, holding her up as she staggered. Victoria looked up at me and I watched an expression of horror and panic start to steal across her features. Quickly, I pushed into her mind and swept those feelings aside.
Everything is all right, I told her, using the strongest compulsion I dared. It was just a dream. Put on your dress and go home. Forget the dream ever happened. Go now. Her eyes glazed over and I stepped aside, watching as she slipped back into her nightdress and headed for the village.
With one need satisfied, if only for a few days, I could focus on other things, like finding food and a den. I would need a place to hide while I planned my next raid on this village. They had no idea just how fucked they were about to be be, and if I was careful, they never would.
It’s hard to be alone. There’s no one to tell you simple things, like why dragons don’t like the snow. It’s not that we have anything against snow—it’s pretty, all shiny white, and it makes the neatest crunching sounds under our feet. It’s that the shit is cold. And dragons don’t do well in the cold. I learned that the hard way.
It was autumn when I crossed the mountains. I think that’s the only reason I survived. The snow had receded to the highest peaks and the shadiest valleys, and I was at the crest before I discovered my error. I stood, staring down into a beautiful, green valley, full of rivers and trees and small villages, and—most importantly—no sign of another dragon. It was paradise. And the only thing between me and the respite I desperately needed, was a north-facing slope covered in deep snow and broken ice fields.
The ice was easy enough to navigate. My talons pierced the glassy surface and kept me from sliding, but the cold burned up through the scales of my feet, stealing the heat out of my legs. My muscles began to cramp. Then I hit the snow, my feet breaking through the icy crust and plunging into the wet slush beneath. I could literally feel the warmth bleeding out of my body, each step slower and more laborious than the last, my heart rate dropping to one or two beats a minute.
It was all I could do to keep moving. I just wanted to lie down and sleep, but I knew if I did, I’d never wake up again. Old dragons sometimes bruminate in ice caves, their body temperature dropping to just a few degrees above freezing, sleeping for a hundred years or more, but I was not nearly big enough to withstand something like that. So I pushed on, slogging through the melting snow and icy mud until I reached the treeline. I found a large, flat rock and curled up on it like a cat, basking until my temperature returned to normal.
Of course, once it did, the full force of my rut returned, the desire to mate singing through my blood. My cock hardened, making it uncomfortable to walk as I struggled to keep it from emerging from my body. The last thing I wanted was to get my dick caught in a blackberry bramble.
Slinking through the forest, I found the bank of a river. I drank my fill and snapped up a fish that got too close, but my hunger was not for food. I needed a different kind of satiation. I walked the riverbank, my long, black forked tongue flicking out to smell the air. I detected the scent of deer and rabbits, foxes and quail. None of that interested me, and then I found the a trail reeking of horse and human. I could smell their sweat and the smoke from their fires. I was near a village.
I crossed at their shallow fording place and found a marshy area nearby where I could roll in the mud to cover the ghastly white patches that marred my otherwise flawless dark blue and gold scales. It didn’t change anything, of course. I was still a freak, but at least I didn’t stand out like a pile of snow in the forest. I followed the trail to the edge of the woods and there it was, a human settlement, maybe fifty cottages and farms, surrounded by fields and meadows.
I nestled my long, sinuous body into a hollow beneath a fallen tree and settled down to wait for dark. Waiting, however, is not easy when your blood is boiling with mating hormones. It reminds you of how hard it is to be alone, which makes you think about why you’re alone, which makes you angry and bitter. It wasn’t my fault that I was born piebald, nor was it my fault that my mother was slaughtered by dragon slayers days before my clutch hatched, and was therefore unable to kill me at birth. And yet, every other dragon I’ve met has made it clear that my very existence is a personal insult to them.
Myrrusch is what they call me. It means ‘ugly’ and ‘bad omen’, but since I never had a mother to give me a name, I decided it would have to do. So, I’m Myr, the dragon of bad omens. I suppose for the people of this village, that’s true enough.
~*~*~*~
I crept through the darkness, a shadow moving across their fields, over fences, into the silent, empty lanes between their cottages. I paused outside each small, stone dwelling, reaching inside with my mind to search out the occupants, much as I might flick my tongue to search out a smell. That’s one way dragons communicate. We have spoken language, of course, but when we want to speak to a lesser creature, it must be done mind to mind. I wasn’t speaking to anyone, not yet, just touching their thoughts, getting a taste of them. Searching for the right one.
I found her in a small cottage, a young woman dreaming of sunshine and flowers. Her mind was like an open door, inviting me in. Some humans are more closed, those who have suffered hardship and loss. They build walls to protect themselves. The walls can’t keep me out, but breaking in is more difficult, more likely to be noticed. If a human realizes what I’m doing, they can resist me, which usually leads to all kinds of trouble.
I slipped into her dream, watching her dance across a field of wildflowers, surrounded by birds and butterflies as I sifted through her thoughts. Her name was Victoria, she was eighteen years old, and the son of a farmer had just asked her to marry him. She had said yes. No wonder her dreams were so bright and happy. I almost felt bad for needing to wake her.
A soft, gray kitten appeared, bouncing and frolicking around her feet as she teased it with a long stalk of grass. I watched for another moment, then took a breath and blew out a ball of blue flame, setting the kitten on fire. It shrieked as it writhed in the grass, blackened flesh turning to ash. Victoria screamed and the dream shattered as she jerked awake.
I pulled back to the surface of her thoughts as her fear and disorientation washed over me. Human emotions are strange things and best experienced from a distance. I waited until she had calmed down, and then I pushed in again, soothing her lingering unease.
It was just a bad dream, I whispered into her mind, keeping my touch soft so she would think it was her own thought. It’s stuffy in here. Some fresh air would be nice. Step outside. It’s a beautiful night.
I felt her balk at the thought of going outside, into the dark where the scary things lived.
The village is safe, I whispered. Don’t go far, just open the door and step out.
I heard the bed creak as she got up, heard her quiet footsteps as she walked to the door. She slid back the bolt and pulled it open, taking a hesitant step outside. I shrank back into the shadows between her cottage and the next. Her mind wasn’t ready to see me yet.
So pretty, I whispered into her thoughts. Look at the stars, so bright and clear. Feel the breeze. The air is so fresh. It’s so peaceful here. The forest must be beautiful at night. I wore down her apprehension, like a river wears down a stone, until she left her doorstep, her bare feet making no sound on the dirt road. I followed, keeping just a few paces behind her, as she headed for the forest.
It wasn’t hard to keep her walking, just repetitive and dull. Pretty stars, go to the forest, it’s safe, blah blah blah. Human minds are weak, soft things, so malleable, so fragile. I had to be careful not to get impatient and push too hard. Push a little too hard, and they realize you’re in there and shut you out. Push a lot and their mind turns to mush. I’ve only done that a couple of times, but it was more than enough. Humans might be lesser creatures, but that didn’t mean I wanted to harm them.
She reached the edge of the wood and she stopped, her fear rising up again, pushing me back. I dug into her thoughts, searching for the source of her unease. When she was a child, her parents told her that wolves lived in the woods and that she should never play there. Which I think was a lie. I didn’t smell a single trace of wolf anywhere in the forest, not even an old scent. They just didn’t want her getting lost or falling in the river. Sensible, but it made my life harder.
All the wolves are gone, I told her. Hunters chased them away. Everything is safe. Hear the river? Listen to the music of the water. It’s so peaceful. I gave her just a bit of a mental nudge, forcing away her fears. Soothed, she followed the path into the forest. I could see just fine, but I guess humans have fairly poor vision because she kept tripping over roots and walking too close to brambles. It made progress agonizingly slow.
Finally, we made it to the riverbank. Then came the hard part.
I had to find a way to reveal myself to her without causing her to completely freak out and shatter the rapport I had been building within her mind. Once again, I sifted through her thoughts and memories, looking back into her childhood, to stories she had been told. Not all were cautionary tales or lies meant to keep her out of trouble. Some were just stories, meant only to entertain, but they turned out to be the most useful.
Such a lovely night, I whispered to her. The kind of night when the forest guardian wanders the woods, protecting the trees and creatures. Wouldn’t it be something, to turn around and see the benevolent guardian spirit? Turn around and don’t be afraid.
I held my breath as she slowly turned, her eyes growing wide at the sight of me. This was one reason why I took her so far from the village—if she screamed, I had plenty of time to get away. I flicked my tongue and tasted the sour scent of her fear, but she just stared up at me, her whole body shaking.
Hello, human, I said, using a deeper, firmer mental voice so she wouldn’t recognize it as the voice in her head. Are you here to harm my forest or my creatures?
She shook her head, her mouth falling open. She tried several times before she managed to speak.
“N-No, great Guardian. I won’t hurt anything.” She had a pleasant voice, for a human.
I tilted my head to one side and looked down at her from one eye, as if scrutinizing her.
Are you sure? Humans often come into my forest to cut my trees and hunt my creatures.
“Not me, I swear!”
Prove it, I said, smirking to myself as I took a step toward her. Get on your knees. I added a bit of compulsion, like a caress in her mind, making her want to obey me. She was so distracted by the ‘guardian spirit’, she didn’t even notice.
She gathered up her nightdress so it wouldn’t get dirty and stepped over to a pile of leaves so she wouldn’t kneel in the mud, her face shining and open as she looked up at me, eager to do whatever I asked of her.
Ah, you are one of the good humans, I said, watching her beam with pleasure. I don’t do this very often, but I feel like bestowing upon you a great gift. Do you want it?
“Oh, yes please, Guardian,” she breathed. “I would be honored.”
Very well. I will let you touch the source of my power. It will grant you health and long life and happiness.
I moved closer, until I practically stood over her, my back feet planted on either side of her. Finally, I could relax and let my hard, aching cock slide out of my body. It hung in front of her, a glistening black rod of throbbing need, the tapered tip already leaking thick drops of precum.
Victoria dropped her gaze to the ground, blushing all the way down to the soft mounds of her breasts showing above the neckline of her dress. She might be innocent, but she wasn’t completely ignorant.
What’s the matter? I asked. Does my gift offend you?
“No, of course not, I just—”
Then touch it. I pushed the compulsion a little deeper into her mind, gratified when she raised her delicate hands and ghosted her fingertips over my slick cock. You can do better than that. Touch me, stroke me, worship me, or I will find another forest to nurture, and let this one crumble to dust.
“Please, don’t leave us, Guardian,” she said, doing her best to wrap her hands around my thick shaft. I struggled to hold still as she stroked up and down my length, the muscles in my groin twitching as I resisted the urge to thrust. I wanted to fuck something so bad.
Taste me, I told her. If you truly appreciate the gift I am giving you, drink of my power. One more soft, mental caress and she leaned close, her lips parting. Her hot tongue slid over my sensitive flesh, lapping up the nectar that dripped from my cock. I didn’t understand it then, but I know now that dragon precum and semen is chock full of pheromones. It’s how we find each other when we’re ready to mate—a chemical signal on the wind—but when humans get a taste of it, it acts like an aphrodisiac, making them unnaturally horny.
I flicked my tongue, the forest suddenly perfumed by her arousal, her temperature rising a few degrees, the heat centered between her legs. She forgot her earlier reluctance, running her hands up and down my cock, her tongue teasing the tip as she wrapped her lips around the tapered head, the forest echoing with her soft moans and loud slurps as she tried to suck the fluid out of me.
You please me, human, I said, twisting my long body around until I encircled her. I have another gift for you. I pushed my narrow muzzle between her knees, under her dress, the heady scent of her pussy almost overpowering. She made a noise of surprise and protest, muffled somewhat by my cock in her mouth, but I just pressed my nose between her thighs and flicked my tongue against her wet lips.
She gasped, my cockhead slipping from her mouth.
“Oh, please—You can’t! I-I’m a good girl, and that is so, so wicked!”
Does it feel wicked? I asked, licking again at her quivering mound. Or does it feel so, so good? I pushed my muscular tongue between her slick folds, rubbing against her swollen clit until she squealed with pleasure. I took advantage of her distraction to weave my tendrils deeper into her mind, eroding her will. She was almost mine.
I brought her to the brink of release, her hips rocking wantonly as I drew back, leaving her mewling with need. She reached out toward me, but I stepped away, my stiff cock swaying back and forth between my hind legs.
I have one last offer for you, I said. If you accept, I will bless your entire village with safety and prosperity. Think carefully before you answer—I will never make this offer again.
“I accept,” she said, rising unsteadily. “Please, tell me what I must do to earn your blessing.”
I raised my gaze to the spreading branches overhead, picking a sturdy one within reach. Bracing one forefoot against the trunk of a nearby tree, I sat up on my haunches, my long tail stretched out for balance. My rigid cock stood straight up against my scaled belly, the precum running down the shaft and glistening in the moonlight.
Come to me; let me hold you.
Victoria stepped toward me, but hesitated.
“You’re covered in mud. I don’t want to get dirty.”
I thought about telling her that she was already a dirty girl and not to worry about a little mud, but I sensed that would not go over well. I picked through her memories and found several from long ago, of an older girl at school who used to push Victoria into the mud whenever she got the chance. Victoria would get in trouble for ruining her clothes because she was afraid of the girl, and now her distaste of anything dirty was so deeply ingrained there was no getting around it. With a sigh, I dropped back down on four legs and headed for the river.
Don’t move, I told her, pushing the command firmly into her mind to make sure she wouldn’t wander off. I slipped down into the cold, rushing water, rolling and rubbing against the rocky bottom until I felt my heartbeat start to slow, the water draining the warmth from my body. I crawled out and gave myself a shake, but the water still streamed from my smooth scales, pattering against the carpet of fallen leaves.
Feeling a little sluggish, I returned to Victoria. She hadn’t moved a muscle in my absence.
Good girl, I told her, returning to my previous position. My cock had retreated into my body to escape the cold water, and now slid out again, a thick spear of aching flesh. You should take off your dress, just to be safe, I said to her. You don’t want it getting dirty.
Obediently, she pulled the thin nightdress off over her head and draped it over a bush. She was fair of flesh, her skin smooth. She had ample breasts with dark nipples, and a tightly curled thatch of golden hair between her legs. She waited, staring at me with glassy eyes, not seeming to care that she was standing naked in the woods. She was mine.
I called her to me and she came, letting me pick her up by the waist. She wasn’t heavy, but I had to be careful—my talons were very sharp and human flesh was about the most fragile thing imaginable. Let me tell you, nothing puts an end to the hanky-panky like an accidental disembowelment.
I pulled her up against my chest, savoring the warmth of her body.
Wrap your arms and legs around me, I told her. Hold on tight.
She gripped me with surprising strength and I let go of her, reaching up to grasp the branch instead, stretching my long body straight up into the air. For several minutes, neither of us moved, and then she began to slide. My wet scales were as slick as glass, giving her little purchase. Her body inched downward and my cock strained upward, throbbing with need as I felt the heat of her pussy against the tip. It touched her moist lips and she squirmed back up my torso.
I could feel the muscles in her arms and legs trembling, tiring from the strain of holding on. She slid again, palms flat against my back, sweaty flesh squealing against smooth scales as she fought to stop her descent. It was a hopeless struggle, but I admired her fortitude as she dug her knees into my sides and inched back up my body. The anticipation was the most delightful kind of torture, my aching cock fully extended and still unable to reach the warmth of her supple flesh. I could feel the heat of her each time she neared my cock head, only to have her squirm away again.
We were both trembling and out of breath when her strength finally gave out and she slid down my body, my cock sinking into her like a heat-seeking missile. She cried out in surprise as the tapered tip penetrated her virgin body, tearing through her maidenhead and filling her tight channel. It was the most amazing feeling, the way her inner walls squeezed and gripped my sensitive flesh, her body squirming against me as she tried to pull herself up again. It did no good. Every movement made her sink farther, take me deeper, her pussy stretching wide to accommodate my increasing girth.
Finally, I could take it no more. I ripped my talons free of the branch and reached down, gently cradling Victoria against my body, holding her still. Groaning low in my throat, I clenched the muscles in my groin, retracting my cock until I almost slipped out of her. I think she thought we were done, because I felt her relax, and then I thrust upward again, plunging deep into her slippery tunnel. She cried out, her body arching against me, but I held her tight, pounding into her.
I was far too big for her to take my entire length, but she managed a good ten inches, screaming and bucking and clawing at my chest as she came again and again, her lithe form wracked with waves of pleasure until she went limp in my arms, passed out from the ecstasy.
I wasn’t far behind her, my thrusts growing faster, harder, my blood surging with an urgency I couldn’t control. Dizzy with rut lust, I gasped and snorted, smoke boiling from my nostrils as I drove deep into her pussy and came, shuddering waves of pleasure shaking me to the bone as I dumped a massive load of cum into her small, human womb, the thick, hot cream filling her tight channel and overflowing, running down the length of my mighty rod.
Sated for the moment, I carefully lifted her off of me, my cock softening and retracting back into the safety of my armored body. She moaned as she regained consciousness and I set her on her feet, holding her up as she staggered. Victoria looked up at me and I watched an expression of horror and panic start to steal across her features. Quickly, I pushed into her mind and swept those feelings aside.
Everything is all right, I told her, using the strongest compulsion I dared. It was just a dream. Put on your dress and go home. Forget the dream ever happened. Go now. Her eyes glazed over and I stepped aside, watching as she slipped back into her nightdress and headed for the village.
With one need satisfied, if only for a few days, I could focus on other things, like finding food and a den. I would need a place to hide while I planned my next raid on this village. They had no idea just how fucked they were about to be be, and if I was careful, they never would.
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Vivian visits a 'specialty' whorehouse that promises to deliver her every fantasy--satisfaction guaranteed. She thinks she might be bisexual and is curious to find out, but she's not really expecting to find herself in bed with a mermaid and a dragon. Boy is she in for a surprise!
It took Vivian three tries to cross the street and two more to make it up the front walk and onto the porch of the old, Victorian-style house. Her hand trembling, she reached out and rang the bell, and very nearly lost her nerve completely. She turned to flee just as the door opened. A tall, dapper gentleman wearing a gray suit with a blue and silver waistcoat stepped out and caught her by the wrist. His hand was warm against her skin, almost hot, his grip like iron. Heart pounding, Vivian looked up at him.
He was handsome, his features refined and sculpted, his eyes a startling shade of dark blue, but he was almost too perfect, like he couldn’t possibly be real. He wore small, square spectacles and a high, midnight blue top hat, a glossy black feather tucked into the silver silk band and held in place by a sapphire studded hat pin.
“Good afternoon, my dear,” he said, his voice deep and cultured, but with a hint of an accent that made him sound exotic and lyrical. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t begin to guess where he might be from. “What brings you to my den of desire?”
Vivian blushed, her whole body burning as she swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.
“I want—I mean, my friend told me about this place,” she said. “It is true? That I can have whatever I want?”
“It is true,” he said, his grip on her wrist melting into a soft caress as he released her. “Please, come inside and we can discuss what I can offer you.”
Vivian hesitated. Her legs felt numb. She shouldn’t be doing this. She knew this was a bad idea, but the things Gloria had told her...She couldn’t walk away. Instead, she followed the man into the house.
He led her down a hall into a small sitting room and gestured to an antique-looking high-backed chair with floral upholstery and carved, claw feet.
“May I offer you something to drink, my dear? Water, or tea perhaps? Maybe something a bit stronger?” He smiled, his teeth even and very white against his brown skin.
“No, thank you,” she replied, sinking down on the edge of the seat, her hands gripping her knees.
“Very well. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Maximus, the proprietor of this establishment. I am the one who can bring your most secret and intimate of fantasies to life, who can grant you the darkest desires of your heart. Now, what shall we call you? And it doesn’t have to be your real name, if that will make you more comfortable.”
“Oh, um...Call me Vivian, I guess,” she said. Gloria had said they were very discreet, and besides, they’d see her name on her credit card when it came time to pay. Which reminded her… “Do you accept credit?”
“Of a sort,” Maximus said with a crooked grin. “Let’s not worry about that right now. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here. You’re a very pretty woman; surely you have no trouble getting all the sex you want.”
Vivian blushed again, looking down at the carpet as he sank gracefully into the chair across from her. “I have had a few boyfriends,” she confessed, “and I have...you know...with a couple of them.”
“My dear Vivian, I certainly do know, but if you can’t even say the words, then this is probably not the right place for you,” Maximus said, making like he was going to stand up again.
“We fucked,” Vivian blurted out. She breathed a sigh of relief as he relaxed back into the chair and motioned for her to continue. “Anyway, yes, I’ve had sex with guys, but never...a woman. I think I want to—I may be bisexual—but I’m not sure, and I don’t want to just use some random woman in order to find out.”
“I sympathize, my dear,” Maximus said, “but I run a specialty brothel, and to be frank, there’s nothing special about your request. I can refer you to several quality establishments that can help you discover the truth about your sexuality—”
“There’s more,” Vivian said. “You see, the reason I think I might be bi is because I have this fantasy about having sex with a mermaid. And a dragon.”
“Ohhh, now we’re talking,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Tell me all about them, every last detail.”
Vivian talked for almost half an hour, describing the creatures and what she wanted them to do to her. She was out of breath and very horny by the time she finished. Maximus sat forward in his chair and adjusted his hat.
“All right, I think we can work with that. Now, let’s talk payment.”
Vivian pulled her purse up into her lap and reached for her wallet.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, pulling off his hat and releasing a wild tangle of copper curls. He reached inside it and pulled out a rolled up sheet of paper. “This is our standard contract, guaranteeing your complete satisfaction in exchange for a small portion of your soul. Now, normally, I only charge one or two percent for a fantasy, but yours is quite elaborate, so I’m going to have to ask for five percent.” He unrolled the paper and spread it on the small table between them, the surface covered in fine print that was nearly impossible to read.
“Hang on, did you say you want my soul?”
“That’s right. Just a tiny piece of it, though.”
“This is insane,” Vivian said, leaning forward and squinting at the minuscule writing. “What do you want my soul for?”
“It’s an investment, nothing more,” Maximus said with a disarming smile. “If I had your whole soul, I might be able to do something, but a fraction like that is practically worthless.”
“Then why do you want it?”
Maximus shrugged his elegant shoulders. “Why not? It adds to the allure and mystery of my business. Swiping your Mastercard is not nearly as sexy as selling your soul.”
Vivian licked dry lips. “Where do I sign?”
“Right here.” Maximus pulled the jeweled hatpin out of the silk band and pointed to a blank space at the bottom of the contract. She reached out to pick up the pen lying on the table and with a flick of his wrist, Maximus stabbed the tip of the hatpin into her finger.
“Ouch!” she said, jerking back, but it was too late. A large, dark drop of blood dripped onto the paper, hissing and smoking as it crawled across the page, scrawling her name in an elegant script.
“Thank you very much, my dear,” Maximus said, returning the pin to his hat and the hat to his head. He rolled up the contract and tucked it inside his jacket, then reached out for her hand as he rose to his feet. “Now, if you’ll follow me, your erotic fantasy is about to begin.”
In a daze, Vivian followed him up a flight of winding stairs to the second floor. She couldn’t stop thinking about her blood on the contract, the way her name had written itself on the paper. If that was a trick, it was a damn good one, but an uneasy weight in the pit of her stomach had her struggling desperately to explain how such a thing could be possible. Was she drugged and hallucinating? She had refused the drink he’d offered. Perhaps she was hypnotized and imagining things. She didn’t remember being put into a trance, but he might have instructed her not to remember. That seemed the most likely explanation, and she clung to it for the sake of her sanity.
“This is our master suite,” Maximus said, stopping outside an ordinary looking bedroom door. “Within, you will find everything that you desire. Just remember, this is your fantasy, and nothing can harm you. When you are ready, enter and enjoy.” He gave her a small, knowing smile and stepped back from the door.
As nervous as she was, Vivian could not deny her own curiosity. As far as showmanship went, this place was a ten, and when she reached out and opened the door, she almost believed there would be a mermaid and a dragon waiting on the other side.
She stepped into the room, at once overwhelmed by the stately beauty of the antique bed and the fine furnishings, and at the same time, disappointed to find it empty. She felt silly for hoping for the impossible and flopped down on the huge bed with a gusty sigh.
Splash!
Vivian sat bolt upright, her heart pounding, as something made a loud splashing sound in the adjoining bathroom.
“Hello?” she called. “Is someone there?”
A feminine voice giggled and answered, “Why don’t you come and see for yourself?”
Vivian closed her eyes and took a bracing breath. “It’s not real,” she whispered, then rose from the bed and marched into the bathroom, determined to see through the illusion and not be fooled by Maximus’ cheap tricks. That determination lasted all of three seconds once she stepped through the doorway and feasted her eyes upon the dusky mermaid lounging in the huge, claw-footed bathtub.
Hair as black as night spilled over bare, golden-brown shoulders, her wet skin gleaming as she draped her arms gracefully over the rim of the bath, the water lapping against her full breasts as her tail swished back and forth. From the waist up, she was the most beautiful woman, and from the hips down, she was a sleek, iridescent fish, her scales and fins shimmering with blue and green and gold.
“Hello there, human female,” the mermaid said, her dark eyes moving down Vivian’s body. “I am Mariana, Queen of the Depths. And who might you be?”
“V-Vivian,” she whispered.
Queen Mariana regarded her for a moment. “Well, Vivian?” she asked finally. “Are you going to attend me or not? I need to be bathed.”
“Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” Vivian said, snapping out of her daze and deciding to play along. This was much more creative than what she had described to Maximus. Trembling inside, she approached the tub, devouring every inch of supple flesh and gauzy fin. Grasping the soap, she leaned over the tub, dipped her hands into the warm water, and began to wash the mermaid’s arm.
Splash!
Vivian gasped as a flick of that powerful tail drenched her from head to toe. Shocked, she stood dripping on the tile floor, not sure what to do.
“I’m sorry, did I get you wet?” the Queen asked. “Better take those off so they can dry.”
Suddenly self-conscious, Vivian turned her back to the tub and began to remove her clothes. She stripped down to her bra and panties, then turned back, fighting the urge to cover herself with her hands. She knew she was in shape and not bad to look at, but compared to the mermaid, she was just a dowdy old frump with too much belly and not enough boobs.
“Oh, my, what lovely legs you have,” Queen Mariana said, leaning on the edge of the tub to get a closer look.
“Really?” Vivian said, looking down. Her thighs were too thick, her knees knobby, and she had faded scars on one shin from a bicycle accident in college.
“Oh, yes. Come here so I may touch them.”
Vivian stepped closer as the mermaid reached out, trailing slender fingers over Vivian’s skin, sending a flash of hot desire through Vivian’s body. She wanted to feel those elegant hands all over her, and she shivered as soft fingertips slid up her inner thigh and brushed against the silky material of her panties.
“Why, these are wet, too,” Queen Mariana said, hooking her fingers into the lace waistband and pulling Vivian’s panties down. “You are dripping wet and shivering, my dear. Come into the tub with me and warm up.”
Vivian needed no second invitation. Sitting on the edge, she swung her legs over, intending to sit down by the mermaid’s tail, where there was plenty of room in the over-sized tub, but Queen Mariana had other ideas. Grabbing Vivian by the hips, she pulled her into the water, on top of herself, until Vivian was kneeling astride that supple fish tail, the smooth, slippery scales pressed against her inner thighs.
“We don’t want this to get wet, either,” the Queen said, unfastening Vivian’s bra and sliding it off her shoulders. Vivian watched it sail through the air and land on the tiled floor. “That’s much better, isn’t it? Such nice tits should not be covered and restrained. They should be worshiped and enjoyed.” Vivian gasped as warm, soft hands cupped her breasts, kneading the firm flesh and teasing her nipples into hard points.
Suddenly, the Queen stopped. “What’s wrong? Don’t you think my tits are nice enough to be worshiped, too?”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Vivian said, pressing her hands to the wet, warm skin. Hesitantly at first, she caressed the firm mounds, but as Queen Mariana moaned and arched her body into Vivian’s hands, her confidence increased. She teased the mermaid’s dark nipples, rolling the pebbled flesh between her finger and thumb. “Please, my Queen,” she asked breathlessly, “may I kiss you?”
In answer, Queen Mariana raised her head and captured Vivian’s lips in a hungry kiss. Vivian’s head spun, her body burning with desire. It was everything she had imagined, and more, the sensation of being touched by a female hand both foreign and exciting, as well as familiar and comforting.
Tongues tangling, Vivian closed her eyes, moaning as that soft hand left her breast, sliding down wet skin to tug and tease Vivian’s neatly trimmed curls. She gasped as the mermaid stroked her pussy, rubbing against her sensitive mound before slipping two fingers between her swollen lips and tracing a slow circle around her throbbing clit.
Panting, Vivian rocked her hips, the water sloshing all around them and splashing out onto the floor as she ground against Queen Mariana’s hand. Pulling back, the mermaid laughed.
“Perhaps we should move this someplace dryer, before we flood the entire house.”
“Can you do that?” Vivian asked, breathless as she continued to stroke the Queen’s perfect breasts. “Leave the water, I mean?”
“Of course,” she replied. “When dry, my fins become legs, although not nearly as shapely as yours.” Beneath the water, she caressed one of Vivian’s thighs, her hand creeping around to grip and knead her firm ass.
“Mmm, I should probably find some towels, then,” Vivian moaned, reluctant to leave the tub.
“I saw some in the bedroom, on the dresser.”
Still, Vivian didn’t move. The water was warm and Queen Mariana’s skin was so soft. After a moment, the mermaid leaned close and whispered in Vivian’s ear.
“Once I have legs, I’ll let you taste my pussy.”
Vivian shot out of the water and scrambled over the edge of the tub so fast her wet feet nearly went sliding out from under her. The mermaid laughed, a lilting, musical sound, as Vivian ran stark-naked from the room, the chill air raising goosebumps along her bare body. She rushed toward the dresser, where a tall stack of fluffy towels waited, but stopped dead as something long and dark and sinuous slithered across the floor in front of her.
Heart pounding, she turned toward the bed, and came face to face with a huge, red-brown dragon draped across the mattress. Orange eyes flickering like live coals stared back at her from a deep-set skull covered in scales and spikes and twisting horns. The beast had a long neck and tail, and a muscular body in between, with a pair of large, leathery wings folded against its back.
“There you are,” the dragon said, small curls of smoke rising up from its nostrils. “You know, it’s not wise to keep a dragon waiting. It doesn’t take long to go from horny to hungry.” A long black tongue slid out of the dragon’s mouth, the forked tip flicking in the air.
“I-I’m sorry,” Vivian stammered. “I didn’t know you were waiting. I was with Queen Mariana—”
The dragon snorted, singeing the bedspread as flames erupted from its nostrils. “That overgrown trout is no queen! Where is she? I’ll turn her into sushi.” It started to get up, the bed frame creaking and groaning beneath its weight.
“I think she left already,” Vivian said, stepping away from the bathroom door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it,” the dragon said sulkily as it lay back down. “I am Fyre, Terror of the Skies, Devourer of Souls, the flame that burns forever.”
Behind her, in the bathroom, Vivian thought she heard a soft splash and what sounded like someone muttering, “Oh, brother,” but she couldn’t be sure.
“I’m very humbled to meet you,” she said. “Forgive me, but are you a male dragon, or a female?”
“Can’t you tell?” Fyre said with another snort. “Of course you can’t. Humans are such ignorant, blind little creatures. I am female, as you could plainly tell if you bothered to look.” She rolled onto her side and raised her hind leg, exposing her scaled underbelly. Down between her legs, at the base of her tail, there was a slight bulge, the glossy scales creased and dimpled, forming a slit in her armored hide.
“Oh, of course,” Vivian said. “I see now. How silly of me.”
“Good, now what that’s cleared up, don’t just stand there,” Fyre said. “Come here.”
Cautiously, Vivian moved closer, stepping over the end of the snake-like tail. She stopped at the corner of the bed. “What would you like me to do?”
With a flick of her powerful tail, Fyre sent Vivian sprawling on her face upon the bed.
“I would like you to to do as I say the first time,” the dragon said testily. “I said come here.”
Wary of the tail, Vivian crawled onto the bed beside the dragon.
“Now, rub your hand along my cloaca.”
Vivian reached out, her fingers hovering over the slit in the dragon’s scales. “Here?”
“Yes, there. Rub hard. Ohhh, just like that.”
The scales were smooth and warm and softer than Vivian had imagined, more like flexible plastic, giving as she pressed against the dragon’s slit. Thick, clear fluid welled up, slicking her fingers, as the slight bulge began to swell. Vivian gasped, pulling her hand back, as the scales gaped open, revealing slick, pink flesh within. It looked a lot like a human pussy, only about three times bigger.
“What is this?” Vivian asked, hesitantly rubbing a large nub of dark flesh that hardened at her touch.
“What do you think it is?” Fyre replied, her voice tight. “Quit asking stupid questions and just suck on it.”
“Oh, right,” Vivian said, her cheeks heating up as she blushed. She’d been so fascinated by the dragon, she’d forgotten she was naked in bed with the creature. On her hands and knees, she leaned in, pressing her face against that slick slit and wrapping her lips around the dragon’s giant clit. It nearly filled her moth, hot and throbbing against her tongue, the taste sweet. She sucked, flicking her tongue against it, and was gratified to hear Fyre moan.
“That’s it, just like that,” the dragon gasped. “Now, fuck me. Use your hand.”
Vivian lifted her head, licking the sweetness from her lips as she slid her fingers into the dragon’s slit, finding her tight tunnel and pushing inside. Walls of muscle gripped her hand, squeezing and contracting, trying to pull her deeper. She shoved, sinking her arm into the dragon’s vagina. Beneath her, Fyre shuddered with pleasure.
This is so fucking hot, she thought, bending her head and devouring Fyre’s clit once more.
“Oh, yes! Fuck yes!” Fyre exclaimed. “You wicked girl. Let’s see how you like it.”
Before Vivian could decide what the dragon meant by that, she felt something slick and solid slide between her thighs and rub against her hot nether lips. She glanced back as Fyre pressed her scaled nose against Vivian’s ass, her long, muscular tongue lapping at Vivian’s pussy.
Moaning low in her throat, Vivian spread her legs wider and tried to concentrate on what she was doing, her tongue teasing that giant bundle of nerves and licking up the sweet, slippery fluid that flowed like nectar. Fyre licked harder, plunging between her lips and assaulting her clit until she was shaking, her hips jerking as she flew toward the precipice of orgasm.
Suddenly, the dragon pulled back, leaving her pussy cold and aching. Vivian raised her head to see what was going on, just as that wicked forked tongue thrust between her lips and deep into her tight tunnel. Vivian cried out, her body stretched and filled by that solid rod of muscle, as big as any cock she’d known. But unlike a cock, hammering blindly into her, Fyre’s tongue writhed and curled and sought out the places that made her shudder and twitch and scream as the orgasm thundered through her.
“Who is making all the noise out here?” asked a familiar voice, and Vivian raised her head, pulling her hand out of the dragon’s passage as Queen Mariana strode out of the bathroom on a pair of slender legs that flashed and shimmered, covered in blue, green, and gold scales up to her narrow waist. Even out of the water, her bare breasts defied gravity. “You!” the mermaid said, pointing at the dragon. “What are you doing with my human, you inflated lizard?”
Fyre withdrew her tongue from Vivian’s pussy, making her shudder and moan.
“Your human?” the dragon said, black smoke curling up from her nostrils. “This one is mine! Go back to your pond before I fry you to a crisp and serve you with chips!” She spat a burst of flame into the room, leaving soot-marks on the ceiling.
“You just try it,” the Queen said. “I’ll have your scaly hide for boots!”
“Ladies, please!” Vivian said, before things could get ugly. “This is my fantasy and I’ll have no more fighting.”
“Fine,” the mermaid said, crossing her arms over her breasts, “then tell this overgrown reptile to get lost.”
“Better yet,” said Fyre, “tell that screeching catfish to take a swim!”
Vivian looked back and forth between the two, utterly torn. This wasn’t part of her fantasy. She shouldn’t have to choose.
“Well?” Queen Mariana demanded. “Which one of us do you want to stay?”
“Both of you?” Vivian said in a small voice.
The dragon cocked her head to look down at Vivian. “Are you asking, or telling?”
“Um...telling. I want both of you.”
Queen Mariana let her lips quirk into a small smile. “Good choice, human. I had a feeling you’d be fun to play with. Now, get away from that overweight alligator’s flabby snatch and come see what royal twat tastes like.”
“Royal!” Fyre roared with laughter, rattling the windows in their casings. “You’re about as royal as the dump I took last week. Your father was an eel and your mother whored herself down on the docks to any sailor with a quarter.”
The mermaid gasped, her lovely face lined with sorrow at the dragon’s cruel words, and she turned away, covering her face with her hands.
“Now look what you did,” Vivian said, climbing off the bed and rushing to Queen Mariana’s side. She put her arm around the mermaid’s shaking shoulders. “Don’t cry, Your Highness. I don’t care what she says, you are a Queen to me.”
Queen Mariana quickly dried her tears, leaving her just as lovely as before.
“That’s kind of you to say, but it would be even more convincing if you were on your knees.”
“Yes, my Queen,” Vivian said, sinking down in front of the mermaid, her scale-covered pussy right in front of Vivian’s face. She had a faint odor of fish and brine, like the sea, but not unpleasant. Leaning forward, Vivian used her fingers to part the scaly folds and reveal the soft, pink pearl within.
“Oh, my! Oh, yes!” Queen Mariana gasped as Vivian devoured her pussy, licking and sucking on her salty clit until it was hard and throbbing against her tongue. “Stop, stop!” the mermaid said suddenly, her hand pushing against Vivian’s shoulder. “My knees feel like they’re about to buckle. I need to lie down.”
She staggered and Vivian jumped up, leading her over to the bed, but instead of lying upon it, she pushed Vivian down onto her back and climbed on top of her, her knees next to Vivian’s shoulders and her gaping pussy inches above her face. Vivian gasped as the mermaid slid her hand between Vivian’s thighs, coaxing her legs apart. Knees bent and heels dug into the mattress, Vivian fought the urge to rock her hips as Queen Mariana rubbed against her wet mound, nimble fingers parting her lips and a wicked tongue delving inside to tease Vivian’s aching clit.
Wrapping her arms around Queen Mariana’s slender hips, Vivian lifted her head and began to feast on the mermaid’s juicy snatch once more, their moans and slurps filling the room.
“I see you forgot about me,” Fyre said sullenly. “Maybe this will remind you.”
Vivian cried out, her body bucking as the dragon’s long tongue thrust between her legs once more, plunging deep into her womb, filling her passage with hot, hard muscle. She clenched around it, quaking with pleasure so intense it stole her breath.
Not to be outdone, apparently, Queen Mariana flicked her tongue against Vivian’s clit until she was shaking, an orgasm like a freight train barreling through her. She cried out, hips jerking as she came, wave after wave of ecstasy rolling through her until she thought she was going to pass out. She tried to twist away from the industrious tongues, to close her legs and protect her shuddering body, but the mermaid held her down, the dragon’s head between her thighs.
“Please,” Vivian gasped. “No more, please!”
But they weren’t listening, or if they heard her, they didn’t care. Queen Mariana swirled her tongue around Vivian’s clit, sucking hard on the throbbing nub, and Fyre’s tongue plunged into her quaking, clenching passage like a piston of flesh, the wicked forked tip ticking deep inside of her. Vivian squirmed beneath their relentless assault, her hands clutching at the bed as they drove her toward the edge of another thunderous orgasm.
“Oh fuck!” she shouted. “Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!” She screamed, hips bucking and toes curling as the hurricane within her made landfall. She squeezed her eyes shut and held on for dear life, riding each wild wave that crashed over her, tossing her on a sea of ecstasy.
When the storm finally subsided, Vivian lay gasping, muscles twitching as echoes of her orgasm shuddered through her. She opened her eyes, shocked to discover that she was alone. Well, almost.
“So, my dear, did you enjoy yourself?” Maximus leaned over the bed, grinning down at Vivian. She bit back a scream as she scrambled off the bed, trying to cover herself as she looked around for her clothes before remembering that she’d left them in the bathroom.
“Relax, I have no interest in your body,” Maximus said, grabbing one of the large bath towels off the dresser and tossing it to her. “I’m only interested in one thing—are you satisfied with your encounter?”
Vivian wrapped the towel around herself, her inner thighs slippery, her pussy still throbbing with the aftershocks. Was she satisfied? She’d never cum so hard in her life. She opened her mouth to answer, but quickly closed it again.
“What if I’m not?” she asked.
He gave her a crooked, leering grin. “Satisfaction is guaranteed. I’d be forced to call your companions back in here to finish the job.”
Vivian shuddered, her pussy clenching. “Yes, I’m completely satisfied,” she said. She wasn’t sure she could survive another round with the two of them.
“Great to hear, my dear,” Maximus said, clapping his hands together. “That completes our contract and transfers ownership of five percent of your soul to me.”
Vivian took a step back, one hand pressed over her heart. “Is it...is it going to hurt when you take it?”
Maximus laughed. “Oh, you sweet girl. Of course not. I’m not taking anything from you. Like I said, you can think of it as an investment. If I owned five percent of a business, I wouldn’t carve out a hunk of their office, now would I? Bricks and carpet and wiring? What use would that be?”
“Okay, but—”
“Listen, I hate to rush you,” he said, glancing at the watch on his wrist, “but I need to have this room cleaned before anyone can use it, so if you can get your things, that would be appreciated.”
“Oh, right! Sorry,” Vivian said, hurrying into the bathroom. “I’m just wondering how you can run a business if you don’t actually get anything for your services.” She lifted her bra and panties out of a puddle, her nose wrinkling at the thought of putting them back on.
“My employees are fairly compensated and well-treated,” Maximus said from the doorway. “You didn’t hear either of them complaining, did you?”
“Well, no...”
“Then you let me worry about my bottom line,” Maximus said with a charming smile. He looked different, somehow, but Vivian couldn’t say how. She pulled on her jeans and shirt, which were damp, but wearable, wrung the water out of her underwear, and stuffed them into her purse. Slipping into her shoes, she headed for the door.
“Thanks, this was...unbelievable,” she said as she passed Maximus.
“Did it help?” he asked. “Are you secure in your sexuality now?”
She paused and glanced back. “I think so. Thank you.”
“Well, if you ever need to do more research, you know where to find me. It might be a good idea to take a ride on a male dragon before you make up your mind. More data points and all that.” He looked over the top of his spectacles and winked at her, and she realized what was different. He had the golden eyes of a goat.
“Um...thanks, but I don’t think so,” she said, and she left, her slick pussy reminding her with every step that her fantasy had been anything but a fantasy. Before she even made it to her car, she found herself wondering what a dragon cock would look like, feel like, taste like, how big would it be, filling and stretching her pussy, and how would it feel to have a dragon cum inside of her? As she started her car, she sighed, acknowledging that Maximus had won this round. She would most definitely be back.
It took Vivian three tries to cross the street and two more to make it up the front walk and onto the porch of the old, Victorian-style house. Her hand trembling, she reached out and rang the bell, and very nearly lost her nerve completely. She turned to flee just as the door opened. A tall, dapper gentleman wearing a gray suit with a blue and silver waistcoat stepped out and caught her by the wrist. His hand was warm against her skin, almost hot, his grip like iron. Heart pounding, Vivian looked up at him.
He was handsome, his features refined and sculpted, his eyes a startling shade of dark blue, but he was almost too perfect, like he couldn’t possibly be real. He wore small, square spectacles and a high, midnight blue top hat, a glossy black feather tucked into the silver silk band and held in place by a sapphire studded hat pin.
“Good afternoon, my dear,” he said, his voice deep and cultured, but with a hint of an accent that made him sound exotic and lyrical. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t begin to guess where he might be from. “What brings you to my den of desire?”
Vivian blushed, her whole body burning as she swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.
“I want—I mean, my friend told me about this place,” she said. “It is true? That I can have whatever I want?”
“It is true,” he said, his grip on her wrist melting into a soft caress as he released her. “Please, come inside and we can discuss what I can offer you.”
Vivian hesitated. Her legs felt numb. She shouldn’t be doing this. She knew this was a bad idea, but the things Gloria had told her...She couldn’t walk away. Instead, she followed the man into the house.
He led her down a hall into a small sitting room and gestured to an antique-looking high-backed chair with floral upholstery and carved, claw feet.
“May I offer you something to drink, my dear? Water, or tea perhaps? Maybe something a bit stronger?” He smiled, his teeth even and very white against his brown skin.
“No, thank you,” she replied, sinking down on the edge of the seat, her hands gripping her knees.
“Very well. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Maximus, the proprietor of this establishment. I am the one who can bring your most secret and intimate of fantasies to life, who can grant you the darkest desires of your heart. Now, what shall we call you? And it doesn’t have to be your real name, if that will make you more comfortable.”
“Oh, um...Call me Vivian, I guess,” she said. Gloria had said they were very discreet, and besides, they’d see her name on her credit card when it came time to pay. Which reminded her… “Do you accept credit?”
“Of a sort,” Maximus said with a crooked grin. “Let’s not worry about that right now. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here. You’re a very pretty woman; surely you have no trouble getting all the sex you want.”
Vivian blushed again, looking down at the carpet as he sank gracefully into the chair across from her. “I have had a few boyfriends,” she confessed, “and I have...you know...with a couple of them.”
“My dear Vivian, I certainly do know, but if you can’t even say the words, then this is probably not the right place for you,” Maximus said, making like he was going to stand up again.
“We fucked,” Vivian blurted out. She breathed a sigh of relief as he relaxed back into the chair and motioned for her to continue. “Anyway, yes, I’ve had sex with guys, but never...a woman. I think I want to—I may be bisexual—but I’m not sure, and I don’t want to just use some random woman in order to find out.”
“I sympathize, my dear,” Maximus said, “but I run a specialty brothel, and to be frank, there’s nothing special about your request. I can refer you to several quality establishments that can help you discover the truth about your sexuality—”
“There’s more,” Vivian said. “You see, the reason I think I might be bi is because I have this fantasy about having sex with a mermaid. And a dragon.”
“Ohhh, now we’re talking,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Tell me all about them, every last detail.”
Vivian talked for almost half an hour, describing the creatures and what she wanted them to do to her. She was out of breath and very horny by the time she finished. Maximus sat forward in his chair and adjusted his hat.
“All right, I think we can work with that. Now, let’s talk payment.”
Vivian pulled her purse up into her lap and reached for her wallet.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, pulling off his hat and releasing a wild tangle of copper curls. He reached inside it and pulled out a rolled up sheet of paper. “This is our standard contract, guaranteeing your complete satisfaction in exchange for a small portion of your soul. Now, normally, I only charge one or two percent for a fantasy, but yours is quite elaborate, so I’m going to have to ask for five percent.” He unrolled the paper and spread it on the small table between them, the surface covered in fine print that was nearly impossible to read.
“Hang on, did you say you want my soul?”
“That’s right. Just a tiny piece of it, though.”
“This is insane,” Vivian said, leaning forward and squinting at the minuscule writing. “What do you want my soul for?”
“It’s an investment, nothing more,” Maximus said with a disarming smile. “If I had your whole soul, I might be able to do something, but a fraction like that is practically worthless.”
“Then why do you want it?”
Maximus shrugged his elegant shoulders. “Why not? It adds to the allure and mystery of my business. Swiping your Mastercard is not nearly as sexy as selling your soul.”
Vivian licked dry lips. “Where do I sign?”
“Right here.” Maximus pulled the jeweled hatpin out of the silk band and pointed to a blank space at the bottom of the contract. She reached out to pick up the pen lying on the table and with a flick of his wrist, Maximus stabbed the tip of the hatpin into her finger.
“Ouch!” she said, jerking back, but it was too late. A large, dark drop of blood dripped onto the paper, hissing and smoking as it crawled across the page, scrawling her name in an elegant script.
“Thank you very much, my dear,” Maximus said, returning the pin to his hat and the hat to his head. He rolled up the contract and tucked it inside his jacket, then reached out for her hand as he rose to his feet. “Now, if you’ll follow me, your erotic fantasy is about to begin.”
In a daze, Vivian followed him up a flight of winding stairs to the second floor. She couldn’t stop thinking about her blood on the contract, the way her name had written itself on the paper. If that was a trick, it was a damn good one, but an uneasy weight in the pit of her stomach had her struggling desperately to explain how such a thing could be possible. Was she drugged and hallucinating? She had refused the drink he’d offered. Perhaps she was hypnotized and imagining things. She didn’t remember being put into a trance, but he might have instructed her not to remember. That seemed the most likely explanation, and she clung to it for the sake of her sanity.
“This is our master suite,” Maximus said, stopping outside an ordinary looking bedroom door. “Within, you will find everything that you desire. Just remember, this is your fantasy, and nothing can harm you. When you are ready, enter and enjoy.” He gave her a small, knowing smile and stepped back from the door.
As nervous as she was, Vivian could not deny her own curiosity. As far as showmanship went, this place was a ten, and when she reached out and opened the door, she almost believed there would be a mermaid and a dragon waiting on the other side.
She stepped into the room, at once overwhelmed by the stately beauty of the antique bed and the fine furnishings, and at the same time, disappointed to find it empty. She felt silly for hoping for the impossible and flopped down on the huge bed with a gusty sigh.
Splash!
Vivian sat bolt upright, her heart pounding, as something made a loud splashing sound in the adjoining bathroom.
“Hello?” she called. “Is someone there?”
A feminine voice giggled and answered, “Why don’t you come and see for yourself?”
Vivian closed her eyes and took a bracing breath. “It’s not real,” she whispered, then rose from the bed and marched into the bathroom, determined to see through the illusion and not be fooled by Maximus’ cheap tricks. That determination lasted all of three seconds once she stepped through the doorway and feasted her eyes upon the dusky mermaid lounging in the huge, claw-footed bathtub.
Hair as black as night spilled over bare, golden-brown shoulders, her wet skin gleaming as she draped her arms gracefully over the rim of the bath, the water lapping against her full breasts as her tail swished back and forth. From the waist up, she was the most beautiful woman, and from the hips down, she was a sleek, iridescent fish, her scales and fins shimmering with blue and green and gold.
“Hello there, human female,” the mermaid said, her dark eyes moving down Vivian’s body. “I am Mariana, Queen of the Depths. And who might you be?”
“V-Vivian,” she whispered.
Queen Mariana regarded her for a moment. “Well, Vivian?” she asked finally. “Are you going to attend me or not? I need to be bathed.”
“Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” Vivian said, snapping out of her daze and deciding to play along. This was much more creative than what she had described to Maximus. Trembling inside, she approached the tub, devouring every inch of supple flesh and gauzy fin. Grasping the soap, she leaned over the tub, dipped her hands into the warm water, and began to wash the mermaid’s arm.
Splash!
Vivian gasped as a flick of that powerful tail drenched her from head to toe. Shocked, she stood dripping on the tile floor, not sure what to do.
“I’m sorry, did I get you wet?” the Queen asked. “Better take those off so they can dry.”
Suddenly self-conscious, Vivian turned her back to the tub and began to remove her clothes. She stripped down to her bra and panties, then turned back, fighting the urge to cover herself with her hands. She knew she was in shape and not bad to look at, but compared to the mermaid, she was just a dowdy old frump with too much belly and not enough boobs.
“Oh, my, what lovely legs you have,” Queen Mariana said, leaning on the edge of the tub to get a closer look.
“Really?” Vivian said, looking down. Her thighs were too thick, her knees knobby, and she had faded scars on one shin from a bicycle accident in college.
“Oh, yes. Come here so I may touch them.”
Vivian stepped closer as the mermaid reached out, trailing slender fingers over Vivian’s skin, sending a flash of hot desire through Vivian’s body. She wanted to feel those elegant hands all over her, and she shivered as soft fingertips slid up her inner thigh and brushed against the silky material of her panties.
“Why, these are wet, too,” Queen Mariana said, hooking her fingers into the lace waistband and pulling Vivian’s panties down. “You are dripping wet and shivering, my dear. Come into the tub with me and warm up.”
Vivian needed no second invitation. Sitting on the edge, she swung her legs over, intending to sit down by the mermaid’s tail, where there was plenty of room in the over-sized tub, but Queen Mariana had other ideas. Grabbing Vivian by the hips, she pulled her into the water, on top of herself, until Vivian was kneeling astride that supple fish tail, the smooth, slippery scales pressed against her inner thighs.
“We don’t want this to get wet, either,” the Queen said, unfastening Vivian’s bra and sliding it off her shoulders. Vivian watched it sail through the air and land on the tiled floor. “That’s much better, isn’t it? Such nice tits should not be covered and restrained. They should be worshiped and enjoyed.” Vivian gasped as warm, soft hands cupped her breasts, kneading the firm flesh and teasing her nipples into hard points.
Suddenly, the Queen stopped. “What’s wrong? Don’t you think my tits are nice enough to be worshiped, too?”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Vivian said, pressing her hands to the wet, warm skin. Hesitantly at first, she caressed the firm mounds, but as Queen Mariana moaned and arched her body into Vivian’s hands, her confidence increased. She teased the mermaid’s dark nipples, rolling the pebbled flesh between her finger and thumb. “Please, my Queen,” she asked breathlessly, “may I kiss you?”
In answer, Queen Mariana raised her head and captured Vivian’s lips in a hungry kiss. Vivian’s head spun, her body burning with desire. It was everything she had imagined, and more, the sensation of being touched by a female hand both foreign and exciting, as well as familiar and comforting.
Tongues tangling, Vivian closed her eyes, moaning as that soft hand left her breast, sliding down wet skin to tug and tease Vivian’s neatly trimmed curls. She gasped as the mermaid stroked her pussy, rubbing against her sensitive mound before slipping two fingers between her swollen lips and tracing a slow circle around her throbbing clit.
Panting, Vivian rocked her hips, the water sloshing all around them and splashing out onto the floor as she ground against Queen Mariana’s hand. Pulling back, the mermaid laughed.
“Perhaps we should move this someplace dryer, before we flood the entire house.”
“Can you do that?” Vivian asked, breathless as she continued to stroke the Queen’s perfect breasts. “Leave the water, I mean?”
“Of course,” she replied. “When dry, my fins become legs, although not nearly as shapely as yours.” Beneath the water, she caressed one of Vivian’s thighs, her hand creeping around to grip and knead her firm ass.
“Mmm, I should probably find some towels, then,” Vivian moaned, reluctant to leave the tub.
“I saw some in the bedroom, on the dresser.”
Still, Vivian didn’t move. The water was warm and Queen Mariana’s skin was so soft. After a moment, the mermaid leaned close and whispered in Vivian’s ear.
“Once I have legs, I’ll let you taste my pussy.”
Vivian shot out of the water and scrambled over the edge of the tub so fast her wet feet nearly went sliding out from under her. The mermaid laughed, a lilting, musical sound, as Vivian ran stark-naked from the room, the chill air raising goosebumps along her bare body. She rushed toward the dresser, where a tall stack of fluffy towels waited, but stopped dead as something long and dark and sinuous slithered across the floor in front of her.
Heart pounding, she turned toward the bed, and came face to face with a huge, red-brown dragon draped across the mattress. Orange eyes flickering like live coals stared back at her from a deep-set skull covered in scales and spikes and twisting horns. The beast had a long neck and tail, and a muscular body in between, with a pair of large, leathery wings folded against its back.
“There you are,” the dragon said, small curls of smoke rising up from its nostrils. “You know, it’s not wise to keep a dragon waiting. It doesn’t take long to go from horny to hungry.” A long black tongue slid out of the dragon’s mouth, the forked tip flicking in the air.
“I-I’m sorry,” Vivian stammered. “I didn’t know you were waiting. I was with Queen Mariana—”
The dragon snorted, singeing the bedspread as flames erupted from its nostrils. “That overgrown trout is no queen! Where is she? I’ll turn her into sushi.” It started to get up, the bed frame creaking and groaning beneath its weight.
“I think she left already,” Vivian said, stepping away from the bathroom door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it,” the dragon said sulkily as it lay back down. “I am Fyre, Terror of the Skies, Devourer of Souls, the flame that burns forever.”
Behind her, in the bathroom, Vivian thought she heard a soft splash and what sounded like someone muttering, “Oh, brother,” but she couldn’t be sure.
“I’m very humbled to meet you,” she said. “Forgive me, but are you a male dragon, or a female?”
“Can’t you tell?” Fyre said with another snort. “Of course you can’t. Humans are such ignorant, blind little creatures. I am female, as you could plainly tell if you bothered to look.” She rolled onto her side and raised her hind leg, exposing her scaled underbelly. Down between her legs, at the base of her tail, there was a slight bulge, the glossy scales creased and dimpled, forming a slit in her armored hide.
“Oh, of course,” Vivian said. “I see now. How silly of me.”
“Good, now what that’s cleared up, don’t just stand there,” Fyre said. “Come here.”
Cautiously, Vivian moved closer, stepping over the end of the snake-like tail. She stopped at the corner of the bed. “What would you like me to do?”
With a flick of her powerful tail, Fyre sent Vivian sprawling on her face upon the bed.
“I would like you to to do as I say the first time,” the dragon said testily. “I said come here.”
Wary of the tail, Vivian crawled onto the bed beside the dragon.
“Now, rub your hand along my cloaca.”
Vivian reached out, her fingers hovering over the slit in the dragon’s scales. “Here?”
“Yes, there. Rub hard. Ohhh, just like that.”
The scales were smooth and warm and softer than Vivian had imagined, more like flexible plastic, giving as she pressed against the dragon’s slit. Thick, clear fluid welled up, slicking her fingers, as the slight bulge began to swell. Vivian gasped, pulling her hand back, as the scales gaped open, revealing slick, pink flesh within. It looked a lot like a human pussy, only about three times bigger.
“What is this?” Vivian asked, hesitantly rubbing a large nub of dark flesh that hardened at her touch.
“What do you think it is?” Fyre replied, her voice tight. “Quit asking stupid questions and just suck on it.”
“Oh, right,” Vivian said, her cheeks heating up as she blushed. She’d been so fascinated by the dragon, she’d forgotten she was naked in bed with the creature. On her hands and knees, she leaned in, pressing her face against that slick slit and wrapping her lips around the dragon’s giant clit. It nearly filled her moth, hot and throbbing against her tongue, the taste sweet. She sucked, flicking her tongue against it, and was gratified to hear Fyre moan.
“That’s it, just like that,” the dragon gasped. “Now, fuck me. Use your hand.”
Vivian lifted her head, licking the sweetness from her lips as she slid her fingers into the dragon’s slit, finding her tight tunnel and pushing inside. Walls of muscle gripped her hand, squeezing and contracting, trying to pull her deeper. She shoved, sinking her arm into the dragon’s vagina. Beneath her, Fyre shuddered with pleasure.
This is so fucking hot, she thought, bending her head and devouring Fyre’s clit once more.
“Oh, yes! Fuck yes!” Fyre exclaimed. “You wicked girl. Let’s see how you like it.”
Before Vivian could decide what the dragon meant by that, she felt something slick and solid slide between her thighs and rub against her hot nether lips. She glanced back as Fyre pressed her scaled nose against Vivian’s ass, her long, muscular tongue lapping at Vivian’s pussy.
Moaning low in her throat, Vivian spread her legs wider and tried to concentrate on what she was doing, her tongue teasing that giant bundle of nerves and licking up the sweet, slippery fluid that flowed like nectar. Fyre licked harder, plunging between her lips and assaulting her clit until she was shaking, her hips jerking as she flew toward the precipice of orgasm.
Suddenly, the dragon pulled back, leaving her pussy cold and aching. Vivian raised her head to see what was going on, just as that wicked forked tongue thrust between her lips and deep into her tight tunnel. Vivian cried out, her body stretched and filled by that solid rod of muscle, as big as any cock she’d known. But unlike a cock, hammering blindly into her, Fyre’s tongue writhed and curled and sought out the places that made her shudder and twitch and scream as the orgasm thundered through her.
“Who is making all the noise out here?” asked a familiar voice, and Vivian raised her head, pulling her hand out of the dragon’s passage as Queen Mariana strode out of the bathroom on a pair of slender legs that flashed and shimmered, covered in blue, green, and gold scales up to her narrow waist. Even out of the water, her bare breasts defied gravity. “You!” the mermaid said, pointing at the dragon. “What are you doing with my human, you inflated lizard?”
Fyre withdrew her tongue from Vivian’s pussy, making her shudder and moan.
“Your human?” the dragon said, black smoke curling up from her nostrils. “This one is mine! Go back to your pond before I fry you to a crisp and serve you with chips!” She spat a burst of flame into the room, leaving soot-marks on the ceiling.
“You just try it,” the Queen said. “I’ll have your scaly hide for boots!”
“Ladies, please!” Vivian said, before things could get ugly. “This is my fantasy and I’ll have no more fighting.”
“Fine,” the mermaid said, crossing her arms over her breasts, “then tell this overgrown reptile to get lost.”
“Better yet,” said Fyre, “tell that screeching catfish to take a swim!”
Vivian looked back and forth between the two, utterly torn. This wasn’t part of her fantasy. She shouldn’t have to choose.
“Well?” Queen Mariana demanded. “Which one of us do you want to stay?”
“Both of you?” Vivian said in a small voice.
The dragon cocked her head to look down at Vivian. “Are you asking, or telling?”
“Um...telling. I want both of you.”
Queen Mariana let her lips quirk into a small smile. “Good choice, human. I had a feeling you’d be fun to play with. Now, get away from that overweight alligator’s flabby snatch and come see what royal twat tastes like.”
“Royal!” Fyre roared with laughter, rattling the windows in their casings. “You’re about as royal as the dump I took last week. Your father was an eel and your mother whored herself down on the docks to any sailor with a quarter.”
The mermaid gasped, her lovely face lined with sorrow at the dragon’s cruel words, and she turned away, covering her face with her hands.
“Now look what you did,” Vivian said, climbing off the bed and rushing to Queen Mariana’s side. She put her arm around the mermaid’s shaking shoulders. “Don’t cry, Your Highness. I don’t care what she says, you are a Queen to me.”
Queen Mariana quickly dried her tears, leaving her just as lovely as before.
“That’s kind of you to say, but it would be even more convincing if you were on your knees.”
“Yes, my Queen,” Vivian said, sinking down in front of the mermaid, her scale-covered pussy right in front of Vivian’s face. She had a faint odor of fish and brine, like the sea, but not unpleasant. Leaning forward, Vivian used her fingers to part the scaly folds and reveal the soft, pink pearl within.
“Oh, my! Oh, yes!” Queen Mariana gasped as Vivian devoured her pussy, licking and sucking on her salty clit until it was hard and throbbing against her tongue. “Stop, stop!” the mermaid said suddenly, her hand pushing against Vivian’s shoulder. “My knees feel like they’re about to buckle. I need to lie down.”
She staggered and Vivian jumped up, leading her over to the bed, but instead of lying upon it, she pushed Vivian down onto her back and climbed on top of her, her knees next to Vivian’s shoulders and her gaping pussy inches above her face. Vivian gasped as the mermaid slid her hand between Vivian’s thighs, coaxing her legs apart. Knees bent and heels dug into the mattress, Vivian fought the urge to rock her hips as Queen Mariana rubbed against her wet mound, nimble fingers parting her lips and a wicked tongue delving inside to tease Vivian’s aching clit.
Wrapping her arms around Queen Mariana’s slender hips, Vivian lifted her head and began to feast on the mermaid’s juicy snatch once more, their moans and slurps filling the room.
“I see you forgot about me,” Fyre said sullenly. “Maybe this will remind you.”
Vivian cried out, her body bucking as the dragon’s long tongue thrust between her legs once more, plunging deep into her womb, filling her passage with hot, hard muscle. She clenched around it, quaking with pleasure so intense it stole her breath.
Not to be outdone, apparently, Queen Mariana flicked her tongue against Vivian’s clit until she was shaking, an orgasm like a freight train barreling through her. She cried out, hips jerking as she came, wave after wave of ecstasy rolling through her until she thought she was going to pass out. She tried to twist away from the industrious tongues, to close her legs and protect her shuddering body, but the mermaid held her down, the dragon’s head between her thighs.
“Please,” Vivian gasped. “No more, please!”
But they weren’t listening, or if they heard her, they didn’t care. Queen Mariana swirled her tongue around Vivian’s clit, sucking hard on the throbbing nub, and Fyre’s tongue plunged into her quaking, clenching passage like a piston of flesh, the wicked forked tip ticking deep inside of her. Vivian squirmed beneath their relentless assault, her hands clutching at the bed as they drove her toward the edge of another thunderous orgasm.
“Oh fuck!” she shouted. “Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!” She screamed, hips bucking and toes curling as the hurricane within her made landfall. She squeezed her eyes shut and held on for dear life, riding each wild wave that crashed over her, tossing her on a sea of ecstasy.
When the storm finally subsided, Vivian lay gasping, muscles twitching as echoes of her orgasm shuddered through her. She opened her eyes, shocked to discover that she was alone. Well, almost.
“So, my dear, did you enjoy yourself?” Maximus leaned over the bed, grinning down at Vivian. She bit back a scream as she scrambled off the bed, trying to cover herself as she looked around for her clothes before remembering that she’d left them in the bathroom.
“Relax, I have no interest in your body,” Maximus said, grabbing one of the large bath towels off the dresser and tossing it to her. “I’m only interested in one thing—are you satisfied with your encounter?”
Vivian wrapped the towel around herself, her inner thighs slippery, her pussy still throbbing with the aftershocks. Was she satisfied? She’d never cum so hard in her life. She opened her mouth to answer, but quickly closed it again.
“What if I’m not?” she asked.
He gave her a crooked, leering grin. “Satisfaction is guaranteed. I’d be forced to call your companions back in here to finish the job.”
Vivian shuddered, her pussy clenching. “Yes, I’m completely satisfied,” she said. She wasn’t sure she could survive another round with the two of them.
“Great to hear, my dear,” Maximus said, clapping his hands together. “That completes our contract and transfers ownership of five percent of your soul to me.”
Vivian took a step back, one hand pressed over her heart. “Is it...is it going to hurt when you take it?”
Maximus laughed. “Oh, you sweet girl. Of course not. I’m not taking anything from you. Like I said, you can think of it as an investment. If I owned five percent of a business, I wouldn’t carve out a hunk of their office, now would I? Bricks and carpet and wiring? What use would that be?”
“Okay, but—”
“Listen, I hate to rush you,” he said, glancing at the watch on his wrist, “but I need to have this room cleaned before anyone can use it, so if you can get your things, that would be appreciated.”
“Oh, right! Sorry,” Vivian said, hurrying into the bathroom. “I’m just wondering how you can run a business if you don’t actually get anything for your services.” She lifted her bra and panties out of a puddle, her nose wrinkling at the thought of putting them back on.
“My employees are fairly compensated and well-treated,” Maximus said from the doorway. “You didn’t hear either of them complaining, did you?”
“Well, no...”
“Then you let me worry about my bottom line,” Maximus said with a charming smile. He looked different, somehow, but Vivian couldn’t say how. She pulled on her jeans and shirt, which were damp, but wearable, wrung the water out of her underwear, and stuffed them into her purse. Slipping into her shoes, she headed for the door.
“Thanks, this was...unbelievable,” she said as she passed Maximus.
“Did it help?” he asked. “Are you secure in your sexuality now?”
She paused and glanced back. “I think so. Thank you.”
“Well, if you ever need to do more research, you know where to find me. It might be a good idea to take a ride on a male dragon before you make up your mind. More data points and all that.” He looked over the top of his spectacles and winked at her, and she realized what was different. He had the golden eyes of a goat.
“Um...thanks, but I don’t think so,” she said, and she left, her slick pussy reminding her with every step that her fantasy had been anything but a fantasy. Before she even made it to her car, she found herself wondering what a dragon cock would look like, feel like, taste like, how big would it be, filling and stretching her pussy, and how would it feel to have a dragon cum inside of her? As she started her car, she sighed, acknowledging that Maximus had won this round. She would most definitely be back.
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Bryce seeks revenge against the girl who betrayed him, using his magical spell book to possess her body and use it to take the most ironic revenge. All characters are 18+
Sitting alone at a table in the crowded cafeteria, Bryce picked at his lunch as he covertly kept an eye on his new target. In his back pocket, his phone vibrated, alerting him to yet another incoming text. His friends were looking for him, probably wondering why he wasn’t waiting at their usual table in the commons. It had been a week since they had taken their revenge on Finn, and while they all had plenty of ideas, they had yet to agree on who should next receive the magical justice coming to them. Bryce knew who he wanted—it kept him awake at night, jerking off as he planned out exactly what he was going to do—he just didn’t know how to break the news to his friends.
“There you are!” Oliver said, dropping down onto the seat beside Bryce.
Miguel sat across the table, curling his lip as he glanced around the institution-gray room. “What are you doing in here, amigo?” he asked in his sexy Spanish accent. “It’s gorgeous outside.”
“Are you avoiding us?” Oliver asked with a laugh, flipping his purple hair back out of his eyes. When Bryce didn’t answer, his smile faded. “You are! It is because of the history project?” That was their code for talking about the spell book Bryce had found in his grandfather’s attic.
“Look, I know I said we’d decide together, but this is just something I have to do,” Bryce said, glancing past Miguel to make sure his target was still eating lunch with her friends.
“Who?” Miguel asked, starting to turn in his seat.
“Don’t look,” Bryce hissed. “It’s Alice.”
Miguel raised his eyebrows. “Your ex-girlfriend who ruined Junior year for you? The bitch who outed you to the world on social media? Hell yeah, count me in.”
“Man, you should have just told us,” Oliver said. “You know we’ve got your back. She’s totally got it coming. So, when do we strike?”
Bryce poked at his lunch. “Yeah...that’s the thing...The, uh...history project that I want to do is kind of...a solo mission.”
“What?” Oliver said, looking crestfallen.
Miguel leaned across the table. “Is this because we saw each other’s dicks? You’re not feeling weird about that, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Bryce said. He’d watched the videos of what they did to Finn more than a few times. “It’s just, this spe- history project is the perfect mix of karmic retribution and ironic justice, but it only works with one person. I’m sorry.”
Oliver and Miguel exchanged glances.
“So...could we do solo history projects, too?”
“I mean, it would only be fair,” Miguel added.
Bryce tensed. Alice was getting up from her table. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, watching her wipe her mouth on a napkin, her lipstick leaving a rosy pink smear on the thin paper. Perfect. “Wait here,” he said, grabbing his half-eaten lunch and weaving through the crowded cafeteria, following her to the garbage cans. She dropped her trash into one and turned, almost bumping into him.
“Oh! I’m sor-” she started to say, but stopped when she realized it was him. Her warm, expressive brown eyes narrowed. “What do you want, pervert?” She said it loud enough that her gang of girlfriends turned to look at Bryce. His cutting comeback died on his lips, his courage withering under their intense, judgmental stares.
“Just throwing my trash away,” he muttered, stepping around her to get to the cans. His face hot and pulse racing, he listened to them walk away, laughing and making cruel remarks. Bitches.
He looked down into the half-full trash bin, for a moment seeing nothing except bits of pizza and hamburgers and french fries. He began to panic. People would notice if he stood there too long. Where was it?
A smear of pink caught his eye and he reached in, snatching up the crumpled napkin. Dropping the remains of his lunch, he hurried back to his friends, falling onto his seat with a sigh of relief.
“Did you get it?” Miguel asked.
Bryce showed them the used napkin, then folded it up and carefully tucked it away in his pocket.
“So, I know you said this was a solo project,” Oliver said, “but you can still tell us what you have planned, right?”
Bryce grinned and the three of them leaned close.
~*~*~*~
Lying in bed, waiting for his parents to fall asleep, was the most intensely boring hour of Bryce’s life. He passed the time by renewing his fury toward Alice, reminding himself of the depth of her betrayal.
They had been going out for more than a year, which was about eight months longer than any of his previous relationships. He had his license, so they went to movies and out to dinner, and sometimes they just parked near the woods and made out, but they hadn’t yet gone all the way. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming pushy, but that night—their last date, as it would happen to be—she asked him if he had protection.
He did, and he asked if she was sure. She said she was. He asked if she had ever done it before. He still remembered the way she blushed as she shook her head. Then she asked him the same.
“You should have told her no,” he whispered into the darkness of his bedroom.
Instead of a safe lie, he had given her a truth about himself that he had never shared with anyone. He trusted her with the most secret part of himself, a part he was still trying to understand and accept. He confessed that he’d been with a girl before. And a guy. Not at the same time, of course. He might be attracted to both men and women, but he promised to be faithful only to her.
He could tell she was in shock. He offered to drive her home and she agreed that would be best. Before they reached her driveway, he knew it was over. Being rejected hurt, but deep down, he wasn’t surprised. If only that had been the end of it.
The next day at school, he was nervous about seeing her in class. Would she say anything? As it turned out, she said plenty, but not at school. Walking through the halls, it felt like everyone was staring at him, snickers and whispers flying behind his back. It was Oliver who finally showed him the video she had made, telling the entire world how her boyfriend turned out to be a sexual deviant who would fuck anything, guys and girls, and probably farm animals if he could catch them.
Bryce had wanted to die. If it wasn’t for his friends, who never wavered from his side for a moment, who knows what he might have done.
Finally, it was after midnight, the house silent. Bryce got out of bed and turned on his desk lamp, opening his spell book and taking the crumpled napkin out of his pocket. Using a marker and a feather-light touch to keep from ripping the fragile paper, he copied down the complex spell equation, sweat beading his brow as he concentrated. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he copied something wrong, but the book insinuated that it would be bad, and not just in the oops, it didn’t work sort of way.
He finished and double-checked the incomprehensible string of symbols, then opened his desk drawer and pulled out his pocket knife. He wished his friends were there, but it seemed cruel to exclude them from the spell, and then ask them to babysit his body while his soul was busy elsewhere. He felt pretty safe in his room, but there was always the remote possibility of his parents checking on him and finding him unresponsive. He could just imagine how that would freak them out.
Bryce considered waiting, but he knew he was worried about nothing. And he had let Alice get away with what she had done for far too long. His voice low, he read the quantum incantation, as Oliver had begun calling it, feeling the subatomic world begin to resonate around him, a low-level hum that pressed against his ear drums, making them itch. As he reached the final syllables, he pressed the point of his knife into the pad of his thumb, a large, dark bead of blood welling up. Bryce squeezed his thumb, holding his breath as the drop of blood fell upon the napkin, a bright red stain spreading across the thin paper.
His lamp flickered and he stood, the room spinning around him. Taking a staggering step, he fell heavily upon his bed, the room going dark.
Bryce’s eyes snapped open, the world unfocused, but even blurry, he could tell he wasn’t in his room anymore. He blinked, his vision slowly clearing, and sat up, looking around at the stuffed animals at the foot of the bed, the flowered comforter spread over him, the posters of kpop bands on the walls. He reached down to push the comforter aside and froze, the hand before him slender and delicate, the nails painted glittery pink. He wiggled his fingers, watching that feminine hand respond.
“Holy shit, I did it,” he whispered, the hushed voice softer, higher than his own. He climbed out of bed and rushed over to the closet door, standing before the floor-length mirror, his heart racing. No, not his heart, her heart. He stared out of Alice’s brown eyes, reaching up to run his fingers back through her shoulder-length blonde hair. He touched the thin straps of her silky nightgown, shifting his weight to feel the material slide against her skin. This was amazing.
Bryce pulled the front of the nightgown down, exposing Alice’s bare breasts, her nipples peaking in the chill air, and he smirked as he cupped one firm mound, kneading the solid flesh.
What the fuck is going on?
Bryce jumped and whirled around, her hair falling across his eyes. He pushed it out of his face and scanned the room, but it was dark, quiet, and empty.
I must be dreaming. It had a hollow, distant quality, but Bryce could still recognize Alice’s voice, echoing like an errant thought in his head. Am I sleepwalking? I’ve never sleepwalked before.
The book hadn’t said anything about her being aware while he was doing this. He briefly considered aborting his mission and just lying back down until the spell wore off, but she didn’t seem aware of him, and she didn’t seem to be able to stop him. She was just a spectator, along for the ride. He smirked again and headed for the kitchen.
This is so weird, Alice said as he walked down the hall. He had only been in her house a few times, but he remembered the layout pretty well. He stepped into the kitchen, the stone tile floor cold against her bare feet, and opened the fridge. Oh, God, am I sleep-eating? Is this why I gained five pounds this month?
Stifling a chuckle, Bryce searched the shelves and drawers, pulling out a foot-long sausage over an inch in diameter and an ear of fresh corn that was almost two inches at its widest point.
Eww, put that back, Alice said. If you have to eat something, grab a yogurt, you fatass.
Bryce headed back to her room, absently wondering if she always talked to herself like that. Low self-esteem might explain a lot. Of course, it didn’t excuse anything. He closed her door and locked it, then sat down at her laptop. She had once told him that her password was the name of her first dog, so he confidently typed ‘buttercup’ into the entry field and got to work setting up her webcam to record.
Now what am I doing? she asked. Is this going to be one of those food-porn videos of me eating gross stuff?
He was tempted to tell her that she was getting warmer, but he kept his mouth shut. He was looking forward to the moment when she figured it out for herself and he didn’t want to spoil it. Once the webcam was up and recording, he looked straight at it and began to speak. It was surreal hearing his words in her voice, but he didn’t let that distract him from what he wanted to say.
“Hello, my name is Alice Newman and I am a Senior at Riverbend High School,” he said.
What am I doing? Stop that! Alice said as Bryce proceeded to dox her, stating her birth date and home address. He wanted to give out her social security number, but he didn’t know it and he didn’t feel like looking for her card. That wasn’t really the point of this, just an added benefit.
“About a year ago, I posted a video about my ex-boyfriend, saying terrible things about him because I was confused and jealous.”
No, I wasn’t. What the hell is this?
“I was wrong to say those things, because I really hurt someone that I cared about, and this video is my penance. I know I can’t take back the things I said, but I hope this proves how sorry I truly am.”
But I’m not sorry! That perv got what he deserved!
Any second thoughts or doubts Bryce might have had evaporated like rain in the desert. He slid the chair back from the camera, waiting for the auto-focus to catch up, and then he eased the strap of her nightie down off one shoulder.
“The truth is,” Bryce said as he did the same to the other strap, “my boyfriend wasn’t the pervert. I am. I’m a naughty girl who likes showing off her tits.”
Don’t you fucking dare! Alice screamed. Bryce just smiled at the camera and slid the silky nightgown down over her creamy breasts, her dark nipples hard. He teased the pebbled flesh, a soft moan escaping her lips. Wake up, wake up! Wake the fuck up! She sounded absolutely panicked.
“Do you like my titties?” Bryce asked the camera. “I know they’re a little small, but the boys never seem to mind.” He slowly stood up, letting the nightgown slink down her body and fall to the floor, revealing her pink cotton panties, the crotch already dark with moisture. “Oh, dear, I’m such a bad girl. I’ve gone and made my panties all damp.”
Bryce was really getting into it, her skin hot, her heart racing as he slid her hand down the front of her underwear, feeling her tight, wet curls, the slick, swollen flesh of her pussy lips. He slipped a finger into her wet heat and rubbed against her clit, the sensation making her knees wobble.
He pulled his hand free, holding his slick, shiny finger out for the camera, then he slowly brought it up to his lips, giving the camera a wicked smile before licking up her juices.
“If anyone wants a taste, I’ll spread any time,” Bryce said, shoving her panties down. “Oops, looks like I’m not a natural blonde!” He played with her dark, neatly trimmed bush for a minute, then sank back down into the chair. He adjusted the camera to point down at her lap, and then he leaned back in the chair and put her feet up on her desk, her legs spread wide. The camera had great resolution, her pink flesh glistening as her clit swelled.
Inside his head, Alice made wounded-animal noises, utterly humiliated. But Bryce wasn’t finished yet. He picked up the sausage that he’d found in the fridge and reached down between her legs, trailing the rounded tip down her slick crease.
Don’t, please, Alice begged. I’m a virgin!
Bryce looked into the camera. “I tell people that I’m a virgin, but I’m really a dirty whore who loves to have her pussy stuffed. I’ll fuck anything, as long as it fits.” He pressed the sausage between her lips, finding her hole and forcing it in. He felt her hymen tear, a slight flash of pain and a lingering discomfort as her tight tunnel stretched around the solid length of meat. He imagined this wasn’t very sanitary, but honestly, he didn’t care.
“Oh, that feels so good,” he moaned in her voice, one hand kneading her breast as the other thrust the sausage into her hot box again and again, as deep as it would go. He felt the pleasure building within her, a slow simmering that made him ache for more. He wanted it harder, faster...and bigger.
Bryce pulled out the sausage and set it aside, her pussy clenching in anticipation as he picked up the ear of corn, already husked and washed. He slid it along her slit, the bumpy kernels rubbing against her clit and making him pant and moan.
“Oh, yeah,” he gasped, placing the tapered tip against her opening. “I like ‘em big and hard. Oh, fuck yes!” He cried out in pleasure as he pushed on the ear of corn, sliding it into her. It was so tight, he had to twist it from side to side, coating the surface of the corn with her hot, slick juices as he worked it deep. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” he exclaimed, her muscles clenching as waves of orgasm shuddered through her, leaving Bryce breathless and light-headed.
No more, Alice sobbed, pleading.
Bryce reached over and picked up the sausage again, still warm and slick.
“This naughty girl is never satisfied by just one,” he said. Holding the corn in place with one hand, he reached between her legs, leaning further back as he pressed the tip of the sausage against her puckered asshole. “Oh, yeah, fuck me in the ass! I like it in my ass!”
He pushed the sausage into her, deeper and deeper, until only a few inches of that foot-long wiener protruded from her asshole. Feet still braced against the edge of the desk, he began to fuck her pussy hard with the ear of corn, the wet, sucking sounds loud enough to be picked up by the microphone and echoed through the laptop speakers. He let go of the sausage with her other hand and dug her fingers into her wet mound, rubbing hard against her clit.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” he cried, her muscles tensing as the throbbing pleasure neared a crescendo. “I’m cumming!” He pounded her quivering pussy until he thought she was going to pass out, the sausage sliding out of her gaping asshole as her body bucked and shuddered. Finally, trembling and exhausted, he had to call it quits. His time owning her body was almost up, and he still had work to do.
Bryce shut off the recording and loaded up her editing software, snipping the video here and there, replaying her orgasms in slow-motion, zooming in as the ear of corn made its first deep penetration, and adding a quick intro.
“Perfect,” he murmured, opening a browser window and logging into her video-sharing account. This video went against all of the site’s rules and would be flagged and reported, it would be taken down and her account suspended, but not before plenty of people had a chance to download it and spread it around to other, less scrupulous sites. Like they tried to warn kids these days, anything put online stays there forever.
Please, don’t do this, Alice said in the back of his head. Wake up before you ruin my life.
“My dear Alice, haven’t you realized by now, ruining your life is the whole point,” he said, not caring if she realized what was happening. Once the spell faded, she wouldn’t remember. “Why should anyone give a shit about your feelings when you have no regard for the feelings of others? You brought this on yourself.”
Oh, my God, I’m talking to myself! Do I have multiple personalities? Is that what this is?
Bryce rolled his eyes and hit upload, watching the little bar fill until it read 100%. He clicked on her stats page and watched the hit counter. It stayed at 0 for all of thirty seconds, and within a minute, it was into the thousands.
“And there we are,” Bryce said, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “Now the whole world knows what a dirty little slut you are. How does it feel, Alice?” He could hear her sobbing in the back of his mind. He could also feel his hold on her slipping. His time was up. In one last, vindictive act, he picked up the ear of corn from where it had fallen, the kernels glistening as her juices ran down the cob, and he shoved it into her mouth, tasting her tangy flavor as the spell faded.
Bryce jerked wake, his heart pounding and his hard cock tenting the front of his pajamas. He stared up at his ceiling, his room lit by his desk lamp. Had that actually happened, or was he just dreaming? He grabbed his phone off the corner of his desk and searched for Alice’s username. Sure enough, her newest video began to play, and his hard-on strained to escape the confines of his pants. He fished it out and jerked off, cumming not once, but twice before the video finished playing.
Panting, he cleaned up and turned out the light.
~*~*~*~
Monday morning, Bryce waited at Miguel’s locker, practically dancing with excitement. He hadn’t dared send them a link to the video—passing around pornography would get him expelled, or maybe even arrested, so he couldn’t wait to tell him and Oliver about the success of his history project.
Apparently, they felt the same way. The first words out of Oliver’s mouth were, “So, how did it go?” In hushed tones, he began telling them all about the spell, but his story was interrupted by a cacophony of wolf whistles and catcalls. They looked down the hall as Alice hurried past a group of guys making lewd noises and rude gestures, her face beet red and streaked with tears.
“Ohh, perfecto, mi amigo,” Miguel said, dully impressed. “So, when do I get a turn with the book?”
“Excuse me?” Bryce said, arching an eyebrow.
“He’s right,” Oliver chimed in. “You said we could do solo projects. But I’m pretty sure you said I could go next.”
“He did not—”
“Guys, not now,” Bryce said. The principal had emerged from the front office, his large, imposing frame towering over the students. Rumor was that he used to play football, that he was going to go pro, and then an injury ended that. He did walk with a slight limp, so it could have been true.
“Miss Newman,” the principal called down the hall, his deep voice seeming to rattle Bryce to the bone. She looked up, her red face going white as a sheet. “My office. Now.”
“Boy, is she gonna get it,” Oliver said under his breath.
“She already did,” Miguel said with a snicker. “Bryce gave it to her good.”
They watched as Alice slunk past them. For a moment, she glanced up and Bryce met her eyes. He smirked and she looked away. One more history project in the books. Now, how to decide who got to go next?
Sitting alone at a table in the crowded cafeteria, Bryce picked at his lunch as he covertly kept an eye on his new target. In his back pocket, his phone vibrated, alerting him to yet another incoming text. His friends were looking for him, probably wondering why he wasn’t waiting at their usual table in the commons. It had been a week since they had taken their revenge on Finn, and while they all had plenty of ideas, they had yet to agree on who should next receive the magical justice coming to them. Bryce knew who he wanted—it kept him awake at night, jerking off as he planned out exactly what he was going to do—he just didn’t know how to break the news to his friends.
“There you are!” Oliver said, dropping down onto the seat beside Bryce.
Miguel sat across the table, curling his lip as he glanced around the institution-gray room. “What are you doing in here, amigo?” he asked in his sexy Spanish accent. “It’s gorgeous outside.”
“Are you avoiding us?” Oliver asked with a laugh, flipping his purple hair back out of his eyes. When Bryce didn’t answer, his smile faded. “You are! It is because of the history project?” That was their code for talking about the spell book Bryce had found in his grandfather’s attic.
“Look, I know I said we’d decide together, but this is just something I have to do,” Bryce said, glancing past Miguel to make sure his target was still eating lunch with her friends.
“Who?” Miguel asked, starting to turn in his seat.
“Don’t look,” Bryce hissed. “It’s Alice.”
Miguel raised his eyebrows. “Your ex-girlfriend who ruined Junior year for you? The bitch who outed you to the world on social media? Hell yeah, count me in.”
“Man, you should have just told us,” Oliver said. “You know we’ve got your back. She’s totally got it coming. So, when do we strike?”
Bryce poked at his lunch. “Yeah...that’s the thing...The, uh...history project that I want to do is kind of...a solo mission.”
“What?” Oliver said, looking crestfallen.
Miguel leaned across the table. “Is this because we saw each other’s dicks? You’re not feeling weird about that, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Bryce said. He’d watched the videos of what they did to Finn more than a few times. “It’s just, this spe- history project is the perfect mix of karmic retribution and ironic justice, but it only works with one person. I’m sorry.”
Oliver and Miguel exchanged glances.
“So...could we do solo history projects, too?”
“I mean, it would only be fair,” Miguel added.
Bryce tensed. Alice was getting up from her table. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, watching her wipe her mouth on a napkin, her lipstick leaving a rosy pink smear on the thin paper. Perfect. “Wait here,” he said, grabbing his half-eaten lunch and weaving through the crowded cafeteria, following her to the garbage cans. She dropped her trash into one and turned, almost bumping into him.
“Oh! I’m sor-” she started to say, but stopped when she realized it was him. Her warm, expressive brown eyes narrowed. “What do you want, pervert?” She said it loud enough that her gang of girlfriends turned to look at Bryce. His cutting comeback died on his lips, his courage withering under their intense, judgmental stares.
“Just throwing my trash away,” he muttered, stepping around her to get to the cans. His face hot and pulse racing, he listened to them walk away, laughing and making cruel remarks. Bitches.
He looked down into the half-full trash bin, for a moment seeing nothing except bits of pizza and hamburgers and french fries. He began to panic. People would notice if he stood there too long. Where was it?
A smear of pink caught his eye and he reached in, snatching up the crumpled napkin. Dropping the remains of his lunch, he hurried back to his friends, falling onto his seat with a sigh of relief.
“Did you get it?” Miguel asked.
Bryce showed them the used napkin, then folded it up and carefully tucked it away in his pocket.
“So, I know you said this was a solo project,” Oliver said, “but you can still tell us what you have planned, right?”
Bryce grinned and the three of them leaned close.
~*~*~*~
Lying in bed, waiting for his parents to fall asleep, was the most intensely boring hour of Bryce’s life. He passed the time by renewing his fury toward Alice, reminding himself of the depth of her betrayal.
They had been going out for more than a year, which was about eight months longer than any of his previous relationships. He had his license, so they went to movies and out to dinner, and sometimes they just parked near the woods and made out, but they hadn’t yet gone all the way. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming pushy, but that night—their last date, as it would happen to be—she asked him if he had protection.
He did, and he asked if she was sure. She said she was. He asked if she had ever done it before. He still remembered the way she blushed as she shook her head. Then she asked him the same.
“You should have told her no,” he whispered into the darkness of his bedroom.
Instead of a safe lie, he had given her a truth about himself that he had never shared with anyone. He trusted her with the most secret part of himself, a part he was still trying to understand and accept. He confessed that he’d been with a girl before. And a guy. Not at the same time, of course. He might be attracted to both men and women, but he promised to be faithful only to her.
He could tell she was in shock. He offered to drive her home and she agreed that would be best. Before they reached her driveway, he knew it was over. Being rejected hurt, but deep down, he wasn’t surprised. If only that had been the end of it.
The next day at school, he was nervous about seeing her in class. Would she say anything? As it turned out, she said plenty, but not at school. Walking through the halls, it felt like everyone was staring at him, snickers and whispers flying behind his back. It was Oliver who finally showed him the video she had made, telling the entire world how her boyfriend turned out to be a sexual deviant who would fuck anything, guys and girls, and probably farm animals if he could catch them.
Bryce had wanted to die. If it wasn’t for his friends, who never wavered from his side for a moment, who knows what he might have done.
Finally, it was after midnight, the house silent. Bryce got out of bed and turned on his desk lamp, opening his spell book and taking the crumpled napkin out of his pocket. Using a marker and a feather-light touch to keep from ripping the fragile paper, he copied down the complex spell equation, sweat beading his brow as he concentrated. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he copied something wrong, but the book insinuated that it would be bad, and not just in the oops, it didn’t work sort of way.
He finished and double-checked the incomprehensible string of symbols, then opened his desk drawer and pulled out his pocket knife. He wished his friends were there, but it seemed cruel to exclude them from the spell, and then ask them to babysit his body while his soul was busy elsewhere. He felt pretty safe in his room, but there was always the remote possibility of his parents checking on him and finding him unresponsive. He could just imagine how that would freak them out.
Bryce considered waiting, but he knew he was worried about nothing. And he had let Alice get away with what she had done for far too long. His voice low, he read the quantum incantation, as Oliver had begun calling it, feeling the subatomic world begin to resonate around him, a low-level hum that pressed against his ear drums, making them itch. As he reached the final syllables, he pressed the point of his knife into the pad of his thumb, a large, dark bead of blood welling up. Bryce squeezed his thumb, holding his breath as the drop of blood fell upon the napkin, a bright red stain spreading across the thin paper.
His lamp flickered and he stood, the room spinning around him. Taking a staggering step, he fell heavily upon his bed, the room going dark.
Bryce’s eyes snapped open, the world unfocused, but even blurry, he could tell he wasn’t in his room anymore. He blinked, his vision slowly clearing, and sat up, looking around at the stuffed animals at the foot of the bed, the flowered comforter spread over him, the posters of kpop bands on the walls. He reached down to push the comforter aside and froze, the hand before him slender and delicate, the nails painted glittery pink. He wiggled his fingers, watching that feminine hand respond.
“Holy shit, I did it,” he whispered, the hushed voice softer, higher than his own. He climbed out of bed and rushed over to the closet door, standing before the floor-length mirror, his heart racing. No, not his heart, her heart. He stared out of Alice’s brown eyes, reaching up to run his fingers back through her shoulder-length blonde hair. He touched the thin straps of her silky nightgown, shifting his weight to feel the material slide against her skin. This was amazing.
Bryce pulled the front of the nightgown down, exposing Alice’s bare breasts, her nipples peaking in the chill air, and he smirked as he cupped one firm mound, kneading the solid flesh.
What the fuck is going on?
Bryce jumped and whirled around, her hair falling across his eyes. He pushed it out of his face and scanned the room, but it was dark, quiet, and empty.
I must be dreaming. It had a hollow, distant quality, but Bryce could still recognize Alice’s voice, echoing like an errant thought in his head. Am I sleepwalking? I’ve never sleepwalked before.
The book hadn’t said anything about her being aware while he was doing this. He briefly considered aborting his mission and just lying back down until the spell wore off, but she didn’t seem aware of him, and she didn’t seem to be able to stop him. She was just a spectator, along for the ride. He smirked again and headed for the kitchen.
This is so weird, Alice said as he walked down the hall. He had only been in her house a few times, but he remembered the layout pretty well. He stepped into the kitchen, the stone tile floor cold against her bare feet, and opened the fridge. Oh, God, am I sleep-eating? Is this why I gained five pounds this month?
Stifling a chuckle, Bryce searched the shelves and drawers, pulling out a foot-long sausage over an inch in diameter and an ear of fresh corn that was almost two inches at its widest point.
Eww, put that back, Alice said. If you have to eat something, grab a yogurt, you fatass.
Bryce headed back to her room, absently wondering if she always talked to herself like that. Low self-esteem might explain a lot. Of course, it didn’t excuse anything. He closed her door and locked it, then sat down at her laptop. She had once told him that her password was the name of her first dog, so he confidently typed ‘buttercup’ into the entry field and got to work setting up her webcam to record.
Now what am I doing? she asked. Is this going to be one of those food-porn videos of me eating gross stuff?
He was tempted to tell her that she was getting warmer, but he kept his mouth shut. He was looking forward to the moment when she figured it out for herself and he didn’t want to spoil it. Once the webcam was up and recording, he looked straight at it and began to speak. It was surreal hearing his words in her voice, but he didn’t let that distract him from what he wanted to say.
“Hello, my name is Alice Newman and I am a Senior at Riverbend High School,” he said.
What am I doing? Stop that! Alice said as Bryce proceeded to dox her, stating her birth date and home address. He wanted to give out her social security number, but he didn’t know it and he didn’t feel like looking for her card. That wasn’t really the point of this, just an added benefit.
“About a year ago, I posted a video about my ex-boyfriend, saying terrible things about him because I was confused and jealous.”
No, I wasn’t. What the hell is this?
“I was wrong to say those things, because I really hurt someone that I cared about, and this video is my penance. I know I can’t take back the things I said, but I hope this proves how sorry I truly am.”
But I’m not sorry! That perv got what he deserved!
Any second thoughts or doubts Bryce might have had evaporated like rain in the desert. He slid the chair back from the camera, waiting for the auto-focus to catch up, and then he eased the strap of her nightie down off one shoulder.
“The truth is,” Bryce said as he did the same to the other strap, “my boyfriend wasn’t the pervert. I am. I’m a naughty girl who likes showing off her tits.”
Don’t you fucking dare! Alice screamed. Bryce just smiled at the camera and slid the silky nightgown down over her creamy breasts, her dark nipples hard. He teased the pebbled flesh, a soft moan escaping her lips. Wake up, wake up! Wake the fuck up! She sounded absolutely panicked.
“Do you like my titties?” Bryce asked the camera. “I know they’re a little small, but the boys never seem to mind.” He slowly stood up, letting the nightgown slink down her body and fall to the floor, revealing her pink cotton panties, the crotch already dark with moisture. “Oh, dear, I’m such a bad girl. I’ve gone and made my panties all damp.”
Bryce was really getting into it, her skin hot, her heart racing as he slid her hand down the front of her underwear, feeling her tight, wet curls, the slick, swollen flesh of her pussy lips. He slipped a finger into her wet heat and rubbed against her clit, the sensation making her knees wobble.
He pulled his hand free, holding his slick, shiny finger out for the camera, then he slowly brought it up to his lips, giving the camera a wicked smile before licking up her juices.
“If anyone wants a taste, I’ll spread any time,” Bryce said, shoving her panties down. “Oops, looks like I’m not a natural blonde!” He played with her dark, neatly trimmed bush for a minute, then sank back down into the chair. He adjusted the camera to point down at her lap, and then he leaned back in the chair and put her feet up on her desk, her legs spread wide. The camera had great resolution, her pink flesh glistening as her clit swelled.
Inside his head, Alice made wounded-animal noises, utterly humiliated. But Bryce wasn’t finished yet. He picked up the sausage that he’d found in the fridge and reached down between her legs, trailing the rounded tip down her slick crease.
Don’t, please, Alice begged. I’m a virgin!
Bryce looked into the camera. “I tell people that I’m a virgin, but I’m really a dirty whore who loves to have her pussy stuffed. I’ll fuck anything, as long as it fits.” He pressed the sausage between her lips, finding her hole and forcing it in. He felt her hymen tear, a slight flash of pain and a lingering discomfort as her tight tunnel stretched around the solid length of meat. He imagined this wasn’t very sanitary, but honestly, he didn’t care.
“Oh, that feels so good,” he moaned in her voice, one hand kneading her breast as the other thrust the sausage into her hot box again and again, as deep as it would go. He felt the pleasure building within her, a slow simmering that made him ache for more. He wanted it harder, faster...and bigger.
Bryce pulled out the sausage and set it aside, her pussy clenching in anticipation as he picked up the ear of corn, already husked and washed. He slid it along her slit, the bumpy kernels rubbing against her clit and making him pant and moan.
“Oh, yeah,” he gasped, placing the tapered tip against her opening. “I like ‘em big and hard. Oh, fuck yes!” He cried out in pleasure as he pushed on the ear of corn, sliding it into her. It was so tight, he had to twist it from side to side, coating the surface of the corn with her hot, slick juices as he worked it deep. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” he exclaimed, her muscles clenching as waves of orgasm shuddered through her, leaving Bryce breathless and light-headed.
No more, Alice sobbed, pleading.
Bryce reached over and picked up the sausage again, still warm and slick.
“This naughty girl is never satisfied by just one,” he said. Holding the corn in place with one hand, he reached between her legs, leaning further back as he pressed the tip of the sausage against her puckered asshole. “Oh, yeah, fuck me in the ass! I like it in my ass!”
He pushed the sausage into her, deeper and deeper, until only a few inches of that foot-long wiener protruded from her asshole. Feet still braced against the edge of the desk, he began to fuck her pussy hard with the ear of corn, the wet, sucking sounds loud enough to be picked up by the microphone and echoed through the laptop speakers. He let go of the sausage with her other hand and dug her fingers into her wet mound, rubbing hard against her clit.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” he cried, her muscles tensing as the throbbing pleasure neared a crescendo. “I’m cumming!” He pounded her quivering pussy until he thought she was going to pass out, the sausage sliding out of her gaping asshole as her body bucked and shuddered. Finally, trembling and exhausted, he had to call it quits. His time owning her body was almost up, and he still had work to do.
Bryce shut off the recording and loaded up her editing software, snipping the video here and there, replaying her orgasms in slow-motion, zooming in as the ear of corn made its first deep penetration, and adding a quick intro.
“Perfect,” he murmured, opening a browser window and logging into her video-sharing account. This video went against all of the site’s rules and would be flagged and reported, it would be taken down and her account suspended, but not before plenty of people had a chance to download it and spread it around to other, less scrupulous sites. Like they tried to warn kids these days, anything put online stays there forever.
Please, don’t do this, Alice said in the back of his head. Wake up before you ruin my life.
“My dear Alice, haven’t you realized by now, ruining your life is the whole point,” he said, not caring if she realized what was happening. Once the spell faded, she wouldn’t remember. “Why should anyone give a shit about your feelings when you have no regard for the feelings of others? You brought this on yourself.”
Oh, my God, I’m talking to myself! Do I have multiple personalities? Is that what this is?
Bryce rolled his eyes and hit upload, watching the little bar fill until it read 100%. He clicked on her stats page and watched the hit counter. It stayed at 0 for all of thirty seconds, and within a minute, it was into the thousands.
“And there we are,” Bryce said, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “Now the whole world knows what a dirty little slut you are. How does it feel, Alice?” He could hear her sobbing in the back of his mind. He could also feel his hold on her slipping. His time was up. In one last, vindictive act, he picked up the ear of corn from where it had fallen, the kernels glistening as her juices ran down the cob, and he shoved it into her mouth, tasting her tangy flavor as the spell faded.
Bryce jerked wake, his heart pounding and his hard cock tenting the front of his pajamas. He stared up at his ceiling, his room lit by his desk lamp. Had that actually happened, or was he just dreaming? He grabbed his phone off the corner of his desk and searched for Alice’s username. Sure enough, her newest video began to play, and his hard-on strained to escape the confines of his pants. He fished it out and jerked off, cumming not once, but twice before the video finished playing.
Panting, he cleaned up and turned out the light.
~*~*~*~
Monday morning, Bryce waited at Miguel’s locker, practically dancing with excitement. He hadn’t dared send them a link to the video—passing around pornography would get him expelled, or maybe even arrested, so he couldn’t wait to tell him and Oliver about the success of his history project.
Apparently, they felt the same way. The first words out of Oliver’s mouth were, “So, how did it go?” In hushed tones, he began telling them all about the spell, but his story was interrupted by a cacophony of wolf whistles and catcalls. They looked down the hall as Alice hurried past a group of guys making lewd noises and rude gestures, her face beet red and streaked with tears.
“Ohh, perfecto, mi amigo,” Miguel said, dully impressed. “So, when do I get a turn with the book?”
“Excuse me?” Bryce said, arching an eyebrow.
“He’s right,” Oliver chimed in. “You said we could do solo projects. But I’m pretty sure you said I could go next.”
“He did not—”
“Guys, not now,” Bryce said. The principal had emerged from the front office, his large, imposing frame towering over the students. Rumor was that he used to play football, that he was going to go pro, and then an injury ended that. He did walk with a slight limp, so it could have been true.
“Miss Newman,” the principal called down the hall, his deep voice seeming to rattle Bryce to the bone. She looked up, her red face going white as a sheet. “My office. Now.”
“Boy, is she gonna get it,” Oliver said under his breath.
“She already did,” Miguel said with a snicker. “Bryce gave it to her good.”
They watched as Alice slunk past them. For a moment, she glanced up and Bryce met her eyes. He smirked and she looked away. One more history project in the books. Now, how to decide who got to go next?
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When three high school seniors find a book of magic spells, they set out on a quest to teach their bullies a lesson. First up is Finn, the arrogant jock who has tormented them all for years.All characters are 18+.
The first day of senior year, Bryce rushed down the stairs of his high school, pushing through the ravenous lunch crowd. He headed, not for the cafeteria, but for the commons—a large, grassy area between the various buildings, studded with shade trees and graffiti decorated picnic tables. He scanned the open space, his gaze finding his two best friends seated at one of the shady tables. Grinning from ear to ear, he jogged over, his over-stuffed backpack thumping against his lumbar region.
“Hey, fellas,” he said, plopping down beside Miguel and across from Oliver. “You are never going to believe what happened this summer.”
“Momentito, amigo,” Miguel said in his sexy Spanish accent. Contrary to what the bigots at school said, he wasn’t Mexican, he was from Spain, and Bryce always thought he sounded like Puss-in-Boots. Yes, he had a bit of a crush on his friend, but Miguel was the hetero element in their little social circle, and Bryce respected that. “Oliver was just telling me about his vacation adventures.”
“Oh, go anywhere exciting?”
“My cousin’s wedding,” Oliver said, tucking a stray lock of bright purple hair back behind his ear. “In Wisconsin.”
“Sounds fun,” Bryce said, his knee bouncing. He clutched at his backpack, fingers fiddling with the zipper pull.
Oliver gave him a dark look, his blue eyes highlighted with black liner. “I was an usher. In a tux.”
Bryce choked on a laugh, trying to imagine his friend in anything other than tight black jeans and flashy T-shirts. He was the gay one, and even though Bryce was somewhere between bi- and pansexual, they had never had those kinds of feeling about each other. Not surprising, really, considering how long they had been friends. They were nearly as close as brothers.
Bryce waited, looking back and forth between his friends, the pressure building in his chest threatening to burst out of his mouth.
“Okay, man, what’s got you so excited?” Miguel asked finally. “You’re bouncing the whole table.”
“Check this out,” Bryce said, jerking his backpack open and pulling out an old, leather-bound book. He set it on the table with a thump, his fingers caressing the supple leather. Both guys leaned in to read the title embossed in gold on the cover.
“Spells For the Body and Spirit,” Oliver read out loud. He arched an eyebrow at Bryce. “Did you take up D&D or something?”
“You joined a new age cult, didn’t you?” Miguel asked, peering over the top of his glasses.
“No, to both of you,” Bryce said. “You know how my grandfather died last spring? Well, after all the family took everything they wanted from his house, there was a bunch of junk left. My father and his sister couldn’t sell the house until it was cleaned out, so they paid me to do it.”
“Nice of them,” Oliver said, trying to lift the cover of the book. Bryce put his hand on it, holding it closed.
“I volunteered. It was too hard for them. Everything had sentimental value, you know—old toys and letters and clothes. And books.” He looked down at the tome on the table, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I found this in a box in the attic, and I thought the same things you guys did. But this book is the real deal. It’s full of real spells that really work.”
Miguel and Oliver exchanged a worried look, and Miguel reached out as if to check Bryce for a fever. Bryce pushed his hand away.
“I’m not fucking with you, and I’m not crazy,” he said. “I did one of the spells, just messing around, and it worked. And I can prove it.” He pulled out his phone, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and leaned close to his friends. He pulled up a photo and held it up for them to see.
Their jaws dropped, faces flushing red, and Miguel grabbed the phone, turning it face down on the book.
“Who the hell is that?” he asked. He hesitated, then lifted the phone for another peek at the young woman.
Bryce chuckled. “That is my grandfather’s neighbor’s cocker spaniel.”
“What?” they both said together, voices echoing off the surrounding buildings.
“Shhh, you dumbasses,” Bryce said, glancing around again. “Look, I did this spell...” He opened the book, flipping to the page he had marked with a post-it. “It turns animals into people.”
Oliver pulled the book over in front of him and buried his nose in it, while Miguel took another look at Bryce’s phone.
“Damn, those are some nice tits,” he said, then shoved the phone back into Bryce’s hand. “You know this is totally loco, right? I mean, you don’t really expect us to believe this shit, do you?”
“I hoped you would,” Bryce said, “but no, I know it’s insane. I just need to know if you guys trust me enough to do one of these spells with me. Then you’ll see.”
“I’ll do it,” Oliver said, much to Bryce’s surprise. He’d expected him to be the most skeptical. Oliver looked up from the book. “This spell references quantum mechanics and subatomic particles in ways I’ve never heard of. Theoretically, what it suggests may be possible.”
Bryce turned back to Miguel. “So? What do you say?”
“Just one question,” Miguel said. “The dog-girl. Did you..?”
“What do you think?” Bryce said with a broad grin. “She wasn’t big on conversation, but man, was she eager to please. And energetic.”
Miguel groaned. “You’re killing me, man. Hell yeah, I’m in. What do you—”
“Hey, nerd squad, you’re at our table.”
Bryce flinched at the deep, loud voice echoing across the commons. Finn. Star quarterback and all around arrogant jerk, he’d been a pain in their asses since the sixth grade. And he wasn’t alone, trailing two of his football buddies and no fewer than four girls. He smirked at them as he approached, tall and handsome, with perfect teeth and perfect hair, and Bryce wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off his face. But not today.
Oliver snapped the book closed, hugging it to his chest as they vacated the shady table, moving to the other side of the commons, where the only empty spot was in the broiling sun.
“So, what spell did you want to do?” Miguel asked. “The animal to human one again? ‘Cause my neighbor has this siamese cat—”
Bryce shook his head and took the book back from Oliver. “I was thinking we should try this one.” He opened to a page in the back and held it up for them to read.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Oliver whispered. “Who did you have in mind?”
Bryce closed the book. “Who do you think?”
Oliver and Miguel looked at each other and nodded.
“Finn.”
~*~*~*~
On Friday, between classes, Bryce slipped into the boy’s locker room and placed a piece of duct tape over the latch on the exterior door, preventing it from catching properly. That night, while everyone in town was packed into the stadium across the street, cheering for their three-time state champion football team, Bryce snuck back in and borrowed the sweaty shirt hanging in Finn’s locker, because the beloved quarterback didn’t bother to close the close the door, let alone lock it.
Miguel and Oliver waited for him outside, in a grove of trees near the fence. It was secluded enough that the ground was littered with cigarette butts and used condoms, so they weren’t too worried about being caught. Bryce drew a circle in the dirt and placed the shirt inside. He pulled a three by five index card out of his pocket, already inscribed with the incomprehensible spell equation. Oliver had called it a complex blend of advanced physics and pure madness, but if Sparkles the dog-girl was any indication, they didn’t need to understand it to make it work.
Bryce set the spell card on the shirt and they held their hands over it, the tips of their fingers touching. Bryce wasn’t sure if it was just nerves, but he thought he could feel a strange energy zinging through their fingers as they began to chant the activation sequence. It wasn’t in English, or any language that they could find. Oliver had theorized that it wasn’t language at all, it was just sounds that acted upon the vibrating strings that made up everything in the universe. However it worked, they made sure to follow the directions in the book to the last letter.
As the final sound died away, a resounding cheer rose up from the stadium. Their team had scored another touchdown.
Miguel looked back and forth between them. “Did it work?”
“How can we tell?” Oliver asked.
“Well, with the dog, it was a slow transformation,” Bryce said, grabbing his note card and the shirt. “I’m going to put this back, and then we can go to the game and see if anything is happening.”
The fourth quarter was half over and the ticket booth was closed, so they just walked in and found a spot near the exit. Finn was on the field, throwing perfect spirals and scrambling for first downs like he did every Friday. Bryce watched him run off the field after yet another score, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It should have worked. They did everything right.
As the last seconds ticked off the clock, the student section emptied onto the field as the rest of the crowd flooded out into the parking lot. Bryce remained in his seat, his gaze burning holes through Finn as his teammates hoisted him into the air in celebration.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Oliver said finally, rising to his feet. “It was a neat idea—”
“It should have worked, damn it.”
“We can figure out what went wrong and try again,” Miguel said. “Unless...”
“Unless, what?” Bryce asked.
“Unless you want to admit this was just a joke. I mean, it was a good one. You got us good, man.”
Bryce glanced at Oliver, who shrugged and nodded. He thought it was a joke, too.
“Fuck you both,” Bryce said, storming down the bleachers. Some friends.
They caught up to him in the parking lot.
“Bryce, wait up,” Oliver said. “Do you swear, and I mean really swear on everything you hold dear, that this wasn’t a joke.”
“I swear on my dick,” Bryce said, which was just about the most dire oath a young man could make. “This should have worked.”
“Okay, then,” Miguel said. “Let’s wait around for Finn to change out of his football gear and see if he looks any different.”
“Right, those pads could be hiding any changes,” Oliver said.
They loitered outside the fence, watching as the teams filed across the street to the gym. It wasn’t long before players began to trickle out in their street clothes. Bryce and his cohorts tried to look like they were waiting for a ride, but no one paid them any attention, anyway. Even the coaches barely spared them a glance as they headed for their cars.
“That must be everyone,” Oliver said. “Did either of you see Finn come out?”
They shook their heads.
“Should we go look?” Miguel asked.
“Hang on,” Bryce said as the gym doors opened and two more players came out, carrying their overstuffed gear bags. Bryce recognized them as Finn’s two closest friends.
“Did you see Finn in there?” one of them asked, his voice carrying across the street.
“I think he might have a concussion,” the other one said.
“How, bro? He never got hit once.”
“Beats me.” They crossed the street and headed for their respective vehicles.
“Some friends,” Oliver muttered. “If I was acting strange, you guys wouldn’t leave me, would you?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Bryce said, laughing. Oliver punched him in the back, but not hard enough to hurt.
“Hey, hey—door,” Miguel said, but it wasn’t Finn that stepped out into the night, it was Coach Davis. “I thought the coach left last.”
“Me, too,” Oliver said. “So, did we miss Finn?”
“I’m gonna find out,” Bryce said, heading for the gym. They slipped around behind the building, climbing through a hole in the fence, and eased open the exterior locker room door. The door was in the back corner for privacy, so Bryce couldn’t see anything by the back side of a bank of lockers, but the room was silent, save for the sound of splashing water. He motioned for Miguel and Oliver to be quiet and follow him.
Inside, it smelled of sweat and musk and body spray, the air warm and steamy. Moving cautiously, the guys made their way to the shower area and peered around the tiled wall.
Finn sat upon the floor beneath the streaming shower, leaning back against the wall as he gripped and kneaded his own chest, his soft moans echoing in the closed space. Concussion, indeed. Then Bryce did a double-take, his eyes widening. Finn’s pecs were swelling, his small man-nipples expanding into large, dark areolas with pebbled peaks in the center.
“Madre de Dios, he’s got tits,” Miguel hissed, grabbing Bryce’s arm. The mounds of flesh continued to grow, filling Finn’s sizable hands.
“Oh, God,” Finn moaned. “What is happening to me?” He spread his legs, drawing his knees up and reaching down between his legs to rub the smooth skin behind his balls. Finn moaned, his back arching, as a mound formed behind his balls, a shadow dividing the soft swell down the middle. Like a flower bud opening in the sun, the pink, glistening inner folds of Finn’s brand new vagina spread open. Bryce gasped, his cock hardening.
“Holy shit, it worked!” Oliver said, a little too loudly.
Finn’s eyes snapped open. “Who’s there?”
Thinking fast, Bryce whipped out his phone and snapped several shots of Finn and his new anatomy.
“Say cheese, princess,” Bryce said, stepping into the opening of the shower area.
“You little pervert,” Finn said, his face flushing an ugly shade of scarlet. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“No, you won’t,” Bryce said, pretending to fiddle with the phone, “or else all the posts I have scheduled will go live on Facebook, Insta, Tiktok—everywhere—and everyone will see what you’ve become. How do you think your friends will like your new pussy, princess?”
“What do you want?” Finn asked, his voice low.
“You belong to us now,” Bryce said, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “You’re our bitch and you’ll do whatever we say, or we’ll make sure you regret you were ever born.” Finn just stared at him, and Bryce could just imagine the hamster falling off its wheel inside his skull. “Now, turn off that water and get out here.”
Bryce walked away, his heart pounding as he waited to see if Finn would obey.
“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Oliver said, his hands trembling with excitement.
“Is this permanent?” Miguel asked. “Did the book say?”
“It says in the introduction,” Bryce replied. “The effects of a transformation last for an hour, and when it wears off, it returns the subject to their previous state, body and mind. So, I’m thinking that means he won’t even remember this.”
“But what if he does?” Miguel pressed. “He could report us to the police. I don’t want to go to jail.”
“Do you want to leave?” Bryce asked, trying to hide his disappointment. He glanced at Oliver. “What about you? Guys, as long as we’re too scared to take our revenge, the bullies will just keep knocking us down. Think about it: no more being forced to move because someone wants our spot, no more feet stuck out to trip us in the halls, no more snickers and muttered slurs. We will finally get the basic respect that we as human beings deserve.”
“Rousing speech, pervert,” Finn said, one arm awkwardly trying to cover his breasts as he dripped water on the floor. He didn’t seem concerned with covering his dick, however. “Which of your favorite nerd movies did you steal that from?”
Bryce grabbed a towel off the nearby rack and tossed it to him.
“Dry off.”
Finn shook out the towel and dried his hair, then ran the coarse terrycloth down his body, his breath catching and a deep blush creeping up his face as he dried his breasts, his nipples tightening. He cleared his throat. “If you think humiliating me is going to make your pathetic lives any better, you’re not just nerds, you’re idiots.” He walked past them, over to his locker, and placed one foot up on the bench, his back to them as he bent forward to dry his leg.
The slick, pink lips of his pussy peeked out from between his legs, and Bryce slid up behind him, pressing the flat of his hand against that wet heat. Finn gasped, a shudder racking his lean, muscular body, and he moaned, pushing back against Bryce’s hand.
“You feel that?” Bryce asked as Finn ground against his hand. “This isn’t about humiliation, it’s about having you at our complete and total mercy. You’re like a bitch in heat, and you’ll be begging us to fuck you before this is over.”
“Oh, fuck! You bastards,” Finn groaned, his hips jerking as Bryce slid two fingers between those sensitive folds, stroking Finn’s clit and making his legs shake. He pulled his hand back, his cock hard enough to cut glass as he undid his jeans and shoved them down to his knees. He stroked himself, spreading Finn’s pussy juice along his shaft, and then stepped up behind the quarterback.
“Guess what this is, princess,” Bryce said, rubbing his knob against that slick slit, spreading Finn’s folds with his cockhead.
“Oh, God, is that what I think it is?” Finn panted, planting both feet on the floor and widening his stance. He bent farther, bracing his hands against the bench, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge. “You...you can’t do this to me. I’m a guy.”
“At the moment, your pussy would beg to differ,” Bryce said, pressing his cockhead against Finn’s virgin channel. The big man mewled like a kitten, shaking with need as his new body betrayed him, overwhelmed by the sensitivity of his new flesh. “You want it, don’t you?” Bryce asked, teasing that quivering hole, starting to push in, then pulling back. “Ask for it, princess. Beg for it.”
“Yes...yes, please,” Finn whimpered. “Give it to me.”
“Give you what, princess?”
“Your cock!” Finn all but shouted. “Put your cock in me, please!”
“Fuck, this is muy caliente,” Miguel whispered, reminding Bryce that he and Oliver were still there. Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Miguel.
“Film this, will you? I want a video of me popping his cherry.”
Bryce waited until Miguel gave him the nod, and then he pushed in, his cock squeezed by Finn’s tight channel. He met a momentary resistance, but a forceful thrust tore through the hymen. Finn cried out, his body shaking as Bryce slid in to the hilt.
“How does that feel, princess?” Bryce asked, grabbing Finn’s chiseled hips and holding himself deep in the quarterback’s pussy.
“B-big,” Finn panted. “You’re so big. I-I had no idea it would feel so good.”
“Yes, you’re hungry for cock, aren’t you, little princess,” Bryce said, reveling in this new power. It made his head spin, having Finn at his mercy. He began to pump his hips, pulling back until he almost slipped out, then thrusting hard, his balls slapping against Finn’s slick mound.
“Oh! Oh, fuck! I’m cumming!” Finn cried, his passage clenching around Bryce’s cock, waves of orgasm shuddering through him. Curious, Bryce glanced beneath Finn, but there was no semen on the floor and his cock was rock hard. Apparently, that was a pussy-only orgasm. Bryce pounded him harder, until he was panting and shaking. “Wh-what’s happening? I feel like I’m gonna cum again.”
Bryce laughed through gritted teeth, fighting against his own impending climax.
“Don’t you know, women can have multiple orgasms?” he asked. “Let me guess, you’re a ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ kind of guy.”
“Oh! Oh, God! Oh, fuck!” Finn shouted, his vaginal muscles gripping Bryce like a fist, bringing him to the most intense climax of his life. He drove deep into Finn, his balls trying to turn themselves inside out as he emptied his load. Groaning softly, he withdrew, staggering back as Finn’s knees buckled and he collapsed, catching himself on the bench.
Bryce turned to Miguel and Oliver, a lazy, sated smile on his face.
“So, who’s next? Or do you guys still want to leave?”
Miguel shoved the phone into Oliver’s hands, fumbling with his zipper as he rushed to get his jeans down.
“Hold on, why do you get to go next?” Oliver asked.
“Because it’s your turn to hold the camera,” Miguel answered, like it couldn’t be more obvious.
“But I thought you were straight,” Oliver argued.
“Duh—pussy,” Miguel said, trying to elbow Oliver out of the way.
Oliver pushed back, refusing to move. “Uh, hello? He’s got a dick.”
“Boys, boys, no need to fight,” Bryce said, zipping up and tugging his shirt down. “Our princess has enough holes for everyone. Oliver, you prefer ass anyway, right?”
“Forget it,” Finn panted, struggling to get to his feet. His legs still looked a little wobbly. “Nobody is fucking me in the ass.”
“Oh, well, in that case, we’ll be sure to tag you in that video of you begging for my cock,” Bryce said, reaching for the phone. “Do you want to see it, or should I just post it?”
“Fuck you!” Finn shouted, his face red as his gaze darted to each of them in turn. “Fuck you all!” He looked like he was going to cry.
“Yeah, that’s the plan, princess,” Bryce said. He went into the coach’s office and came out pushing a plush, leather office chair. “Have a seat, Miguel.”
Miguel looked confused for a moment, then the light of realization dawned in his eyes. He dropped his jeans and sat in the chair, squirming a little to rub his bare ass on the buttery-soft leather.
“Ven aqui, princess,” Miguel said, one hand gliding up and down his hard cock. He had a nice dick, both long and thick, and unlike Bryce and most of the guys he’d been with, Miguel was uncut, his dark foreskin covering a bulbous knob. He crooked his finger at Finn. “Come here.”
Finn balked, but Bryce gave him an encouraging shove, pushing him onto Miguel’s lap. The chair groaned beneath their weight as Finn straddled Miguel and sank down onto his cock, Finn’s back arching as Miguel filled his slippery tunnel.
“Mmm, magnifica,” Miguel murmured, his hands cupping Finn’s tits, kneading and squeezing the mounds of flesh. He bowed his head, lips capturing the taut nub of a nipple, and Finn moaned, rocking his hips and riding Miguel’s cock.
“We’re running out of battery,” Oliver said, handing Bryce the phone. He slid his tight black jeans down around his thighs, and Bryce was shocked to see a metal ring piercing the head of Oliver’s cock. Oliver caught him staring and gave his cock a slow stroke. “Like it? My birthday present to myself.”
“Didn’t it hurt?” Bryce asked, cringing a little at the thought.
Oliver shrugged. “A bit, but the added sensitivity has more than made up for it. Hey, you don’t have any lube, do you?”
“Are you kidding?” Bryce asked, looking down where Miguel and Finn’s bodies were joined. “The princess is dripping like a faucet. Use that.”
“It’s not as silky as a quality lube,” Oliver complained, coating his fingers in Finn’s juices. He slicked his cockhead and guided his pierced knob between Finn’s muscular ass cheeks, rubbing up and down over Finn’s tight hole. Finn froze, his mouth open, helpless little gasps escaping him as Miguel continued to suckle and tease his sensitive nipples.
Oliver eased into him, a slight frown creasing his brow as he concentrated. Bryce could see Finn tense, resisting, but it was futile. Oliver slid inside, filling Finn’s back passage, and forcing a breathless moan from his lips. Oliver leaned against Finn’s back and whispered in his ear.
“Don’t be scared, princess,” he said. “Being fucked in the ass doesn’t make you queer. Unless it feels good, of course.”
The look of panic on Finn’s face was priceless and it was all Bryce could do not to laugh out loud. Oliver was just fucking with him. Enjoying anal sex had very little to do with sexual orientation and everything to do with the sheer number of nerves located in and around the anus. It was simple biology, but something the die-hard homophobes couldn’t get past.
“This is even better than I imagined,” Bryce said, crouching down beside the chair to get the perfect angle. He filmed Oliver’s cock sliding slowly out, and then driving back in, Finn’s body bucking with each deep thrust. Miguel finally managed to pry his lips away from Finn’s tits, and he planted his feet firmly against the floor and raised his hips, thrusting up into Finn’s hot, wet pussy.
“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Finn shouted, digging his fingers into the back of the chair as he bucked and writhed between the two men. He sagged, panting, shuddering with the echoes of his orgasm, but within moments, he was arching again, desperate moans filling the locker room.
Bryce’s phone flashed the low battery warning and he reluctantly put it away, his hand rubbing his growing erection through his jeans as he watched his friends fuck Finn nearly senseless. The quarterback came at least twice more before Miguel arched his back, his face twisted in a grimace of ecstasy as he filled Finn’s pussy. He slumped, flushed and sweaty, his glasses fogged over, holding Finn’s hips while Oliver pounded into Finn’s ass. Finn gasped, a look of bewilderment on his face as he cried out, cumming again as Oliver slammed into him and dumped his load.
All three of them looked dazed as they uncoupled, Finn taking a staggering step toward his locker. Bryce caught him by the arm and pulled him back.
“We’re not done yet, princess,” he said.
“Oh, come on,” Finn groaned. “I can’t cum again, please.”
“We’ll see about that,” Bryce said, motioning for Miguel to get out of the chair. He pushed Finn down into the soft leather and dropped his jeans again. Finn practically sobbed as Bryce raised his long, muscular legs, hooking Finn’s ankles over his shoulders. With a glance at the clock on the wall, Bryce wasted no time plunging deep into Finn’s pussy, making him gasp and arch. Their hour was almost up. Finn was still as hot and tight at the first thrust, his muscular walls contracting and squeezing Bryce’s cock as Bryce fucked him hard and fast.
“Oh, God, not again,” Finn gasped, his tits bouncing as he bucked and shivered, a look of exquisite agony racing over his features. Feeling more then a little devious, Bryce reached down and grasped Finn’s cock, jerking him industriously as he continued to pound Finn’s pussy. Finn howled, clawing at the arms of the chair, as his cock erupted, striping his chest with strings of glistening pearls. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, his chin thumping against his chest.
“Oh, shit, you killed him,” Oliver gasped, but Bryce could see the rapid rise and fall of Finn’s chest. He was just unconscious. His own climax approaching, Bryce pulled out and stroked his slick cock, shooting his load onto Finn, thick strings dangling from the arrogant jock’s hair and nose.
Exhausted but extremely satisfied, Bryce put his clothes back in order and took out his phone one last time. He just hoped he had enough battery left.
“You probably don’t remember how this happened,” he said, filming Finn passed out in the chair. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we can do it again any time, and we will unless you start being a helluva lot nicer to all the freaks and queers and nerds that you think aren’t worth your time. Remember that.”
He shut off the video and went to Finn’s locker, pulling Finn’s phone out of his bag. After unlocking it with Finn’s thumb print, he texted the video to Finn’s number, and then put it back. With big, dopey smiles on their faces, they fled the locker room, slipping back out through the fence and hurrying down the street.
“Gracias, mi amigo,” Miguel said, clapping Bryce heartily on the back. “That was fucking amazing!”
“Yeah, man, thanks for sharing your spell book with us,” Oliver said.
“Thanks for believing me,” Bryce said. “I know it wasn’t easy. There’s just one more thing I need to ask you.” He stopped, regarding them with a grave expression, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for long. He grinned broadly. “Who should we do next?”
The first day of senior year, Bryce rushed down the stairs of his high school, pushing through the ravenous lunch crowd. He headed, not for the cafeteria, but for the commons—a large, grassy area between the various buildings, studded with shade trees and graffiti decorated picnic tables. He scanned the open space, his gaze finding his two best friends seated at one of the shady tables. Grinning from ear to ear, he jogged over, his over-stuffed backpack thumping against his lumbar region.
“Hey, fellas,” he said, plopping down beside Miguel and across from Oliver. “You are never going to believe what happened this summer.”
“Momentito, amigo,” Miguel said in his sexy Spanish accent. Contrary to what the bigots at school said, he wasn’t Mexican, he was from Spain, and Bryce always thought he sounded like Puss-in-Boots. Yes, he had a bit of a crush on his friend, but Miguel was the hetero element in their little social circle, and Bryce respected that. “Oliver was just telling me about his vacation adventures.”
“Oh, go anywhere exciting?”
“My cousin’s wedding,” Oliver said, tucking a stray lock of bright purple hair back behind his ear. “In Wisconsin.”
“Sounds fun,” Bryce said, his knee bouncing. He clutched at his backpack, fingers fiddling with the zipper pull.
Oliver gave him a dark look, his blue eyes highlighted with black liner. “I was an usher. In a tux.”
Bryce choked on a laugh, trying to imagine his friend in anything other than tight black jeans and flashy T-shirts. He was the gay one, and even though Bryce was somewhere between bi- and pansexual, they had never had those kinds of feeling about each other. Not surprising, really, considering how long they had been friends. They were nearly as close as brothers.
Bryce waited, looking back and forth between his friends, the pressure building in his chest threatening to burst out of his mouth.
“Okay, man, what’s got you so excited?” Miguel asked finally. “You’re bouncing the whole table.”
“Check this out,” Bryce said, jerking his backpack open and pulling out an old, leather-bound book. He set it on the table with a thump, his fingers caressing the supple leather. Both guys leaned in to read the title embossed in gold on the cover.
“Spells For the Body and Spirit,” Oliver read out loud. He arched an eyebrow at Bryce. “Did you take up D&D or something?”
“You joined a new age cult, didn’t you?” Miguel asked, peering over the top of his glasses.
“No, to both of you,” Bryce said. “You know how my grandfather died last spring? Well, after all the family took everything they wanted from his house, there was a bunch of junk left. My father and his sister couldn’t sell the house until it was cleaned out, so they paid me to do it.”
“Nice of them,” Oliver said, trying to lift the cover of the book. Bryce put his hand on it, holding it closed.
“I volunteered. It was too hard for them. Everything had sentimental value, you know—old toys and letters and clothes. And books.” He looked down at the tome on the table, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I found this in a box in the attic, and I thought the same things you guys did. But this book is the real deal. It’s full of real spells that really work.”
Miguel and Oliver exchanged a worried look, and Miguel reached out as if to check Bryce for a fever. Bryce pushed his hand away.
“I’m not fucking with you, and I’m not crazy,” he said. “I did one of the spells, just messing around, and it worked. And I can prove it.” He pulled out his phone, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and leaned close to his friends. He pulled up a photo and held it up for them to see.
Their jaws dropped, faces flushing red, and Miguel grabbed the phone, turning it face down on the book.
“Who the hell is that?” he asked. He hesitated, then lifted the phone for another peek at the young woman.
Bryce chuckled. “That is my grandfather’s neighbor’s cocker spaniel.”
“What?” they both said together, voices echoing off the surrounding buildings.
“Shhh, you dumbasses,” Bryce said, glancing around again. “Look, I did this spell...” He opened the book, flipping to the page he had marked with a post-it. “It turns animals into people.”
Oliver pulled the book over in front of him and buried his nose in it, while Miguel took another look at Bryce’s phone.
“Damn, those are some nice tits,” he said, then shoved the phone back into Bryce’s hand. “You know this is totally loco, right? I mean, you don’t really expect us to believe this shit, do you?”
“I hoped you would,” Bryce said, “but no, I know it’s insane. I just need to know if you guys trust me enough to do one of these spells with me. Then you’ll see.”
“I’ll do it,” Oliver said, much to Bryce’s surprise. He’d expected him to be the most skeptical. Oliver looked up from the book. “This spell references quantum mechanics and subatomic particles in ways I’ve never heard of. Theoretically, what it suggests may be possible.”
Bryce turned back to Miguel. “So? What do you say?”
“Just one question,” Miguel said. “The dog-girl. Did you..?”
“What do you think?” Bryce said with a broad grin. “She wasn’t big on conversation, but man, was she eager to please. And energetic.”
Miguel groaned. “You’re killing me, man. Hell yeah, I’m in. What do you—”
“Hey, nerd squad, you’re at our table.”
Bryce flinched at the deep, loud voice echoing across the commons. Finn. Star quarterback and all around arrogant jerk, he’d been a pain in their asses since the sixth grade. And he wasn’t alone, trailing two of his football buddies and no fewer than four girls. He smirked at them as he approached, tall and handsome, with perfect teeth and perfect hair, and Bryce wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off his face. But not today.
Oliver snapped the book closed, hugging it to his chest as they vacated the shady table, moving to the other side of the commons, where the only empty spot was in the broiling sun.
“So, what spell did you want to do?” Miguel asked. “The animal to human one again? ‘Cause my neighbor has this siamese cat—”
Bryce shook his head and took the book back from Oliver. “I was thinking we should try this one.” He opened to a page in the back and held it up for them to read.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Oliver whispered. “Who did you have in mind?”
Bryce closed the book. “Who do you think?”
Oliver and Miguel looked at each other and nodded.
“Finn.”
~*~*~*~
On Friday, between classes, Bryce slipped into the boy’s locker room and placed a piece of duct tape over the latch on the exterior door, preventing it from catching properly. That night, while everyone in town was packed into the stadium across the street, cheering for their three-time state champion football team, Bryce snuck back in and borrowed the sweaty shirt hanging in Finn’s locker, because the beloved quarterback didn’t bother to close the close the door, let alone lock it.
Miguel and Oliver waited for him outside, in a grove of trees near the fence. It was secluded enough that the ground was littered with cigarette butts and used condoms, so they weren’t too worried about being caught. Bryce drew a circle in the dirt and placed the shirt inside. He pulled a three by five index card out of his pocket, already inscribed with the incomprehensible spell equation. Oliver had called it a complex blend of advanced physics and pure madness, but if Sparkles the dog-girl was any indication, they didn’t need to understand it to make it work.
Bryce set the spell card on the shirt and they held their hands over it, the tips of their fingers touching. Bryce wasn’t sure if it was just nerves, but he thought he could feel a strange energy zinging through their fingers as they began to chant the activation sequence. It wasn’t in English, or any language that they could find. Oliver had theorized that it wasn’t language at all, it was just sounds that acted upon the vibrating strings that made up everything in the universe. However it worked, they made sure to follow the directions in the book to the last letter.
As the final sound died away, a resounding cheer rose up from the stadium. Their team had scored another touchdown.
Miguel looked back and forth between them. “Did it work?”
“How can we tell?” Oliver asked.
“Well, with the dog, it was a slow transformation,” Bryce said, grabbing his note card and the shirt. “I’m going to put this back, and then we can go to the game and see if anything is happening.”
The fourth quarter was half over and the ticket booth was closed, so they just walked in and found a spot near the exit. Finn was on the field, throwing perfect spirals and scrambling for first downs like he did every Friday. Bryce watched him run off the field after yet another score, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It should have worked. They did everything right.
As the last seconds ticked off the clock, the student section emptied onto the field as the rest of the crowd flooded out into the parking lot. Bryce remained in his seat, his gaze burning holes through Finn as his teammates hoisted him into the air in celebration.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Oliver said finally, rising to his feet. “It was a neat idea—”
“It should have worked, damn it.”
“We can figure out what went wrong and try again,” Miguel said. “Unless...”
“Unless, what?” Bryce asked.
“Unless you want to admit this was just a joke. I mean, it was a good one. You got us good, man.”
Bryce glanced at Oliver, who shrugged and nodded. He thought it was a joke, too.
“Fuck you both,” Bryce said, storming down the bleachers. Some friends.
They caught up to him in the parking lot.
“Bryce, wait up,” Oliver said. “Do you swear, and I mean really swear on everything you hold dear, that this wasn’t a joke.”
“I swear on my dick,” Bryce said, which was just about the most dire oath a young man could make. “This should have worked.”
“Okay, then,” Miguel said. “Let’s wait around for Finn to change out of his football gear and see if he looks any different.”
“Right, those pads could be hiding any changes,” Oliver said.
They loitered outside the fence, watching as the teams filed across the street to the gym. It wasn’t long before players began to trickle out in their street clothes. Bryce and his cohorts tried to look like they were waiting for a ride, but no one paid them any attention, anyway. Even the coaches barely spared them a glance as they headed for their cars.
“That must be everyone,” Oliver said. “Did either of you see Finn come out?”
They shook their heads.
“Should we go look?” Miguel asked.
“Hang on,” Bryce said as the gym doors opened and two more players came out, carrying their overstuffed gear bags. Bryce recognized them as Finn’s two closest friends.
“Did you see Finn in there?” one of them asked, his voice carrying across the street.
“I think he might have a concussion,” the other one said.
“How, bro? He never got hit once.”
“Beats me.” They crossed the street and headed for their respective vehicles.
“Some friends,” Oliver muttered. “If I was acting strange, you guys wouldn’t leave me, would you?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Bryce said, laughing. Oliver punched him in the back, but not hard enough to hurt.
“Hey, hey—door,” Miguel said, but it wasn’t Finn that stepped out into the night, it was Coach Davis. “I thought the coach left last.”
“Me, too,” Oliver said. “So, did we miss Finn?”
“I’m gonna find out,” Bryce said, heading for the gym. They slipped around behind the building, climbing through a hole in the fence, and eased open the exterior locker room door. The door was in the back corner for privacy, so Bryce couldn’t see anything by the back side of a bank of lockers, but the room was silent, save for the sound of splashing water. He motioned for Miguel and Oliver to be quiet and follow him.
Inside, it smelled of sweat and musk and body spray, the air warm and steamy. Moving cautiously, the guys made their way to the shower area and peered around the tiled wall.
Finn sat upon the floor beneath the streaming shower, leaning back against the wall as he gripped and kneaded his own chest, his soft moans echoing in the closed space. Concussion, indeed. Then Bryce did a double-take, his eyes widening. Finn’s pecs were swelling, his small man-nipples expanding into large, dark areolas with pebbled peaks in the center.
“Madre de Dios, he’s got tits,” Miguel hissed, grabbing Bryce’s arm. The mounds of flesh continued to grow, filling Finn’s sizable hands.
“Oh, God,” Finn moaned. “What is happening to me?” He spread his legs, drawing his knees up and reaching down between his legs to rub the smooth skin behind his balls. Finn moaned, his back arching, as a mound formed behind his balls, a shadow dividing the soft swell down the middle. Like a flower bud opening in the sun, the pink, glistening inner folds of Finn’s brand new vagina spread open. Bryce gasped, his cock hardening.
“Holy shit, it worked!” Oliver said, a little too loudly.
Finn’s eyes snapped open. “Who’s there?”
Thinking fast, Bryce whipped out his phone and snapped several shots of Finn and his new anatomy.
“Say cheese, princess,” Bryce said, stepping into the opening of the shower area.
“You little pervert,” Finn said, his face flushing an ugly shade of scarlet. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“No, you won’t,” Bryce said, pretending to fiddle with the phone, “or else all the posts I have scheduled will go live on Facebook, Insta, Tiktok—everywhere—and everyone will see what you’ve become. How do you think your friends will like your new pussy, princess?”
“What do you want?” Finn asked, his voice low.
“You belong to us now,” Bryce said, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “You’re our bitch and you’ll do whatever we say, or we’ll make sure you regret you were ever born.” Finn just stared at him, and Bryce could just imagine the hamster falling off its wheel inside his skull. “Now, turn off that water and get out here.”
Bryce walked away, his heart pounding as he waited to see if Finn would obey.
“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Oliver said, his hands trembling with excitement.
“Is this permanent?” Miguel asked. “Did the book say?”
“It says in the introduction,” Bryce replied. “The effects of a transformation last for an hour, and when it wears off, it returns the subject to their previous state, body and mind. So, I’m thinking that means he won’t even remember this.”
“But what if he does?” Miguel pressed. “He could report us to the police. I don’t want to go to jail.”
“Do you want to leave?” Bryce asked, trying to hide his disappointment. He glanced at Oliver. “What about you? Guys, as long as we’re too scared to take our revenge, the bullies will just keep knocking us down. Think about it: no more being forced to move because someone wants our spot, no more feet stuck out to trip us in the halls, no more snickers and muttered slurs. We will finally get the basic respect that we as human beings deserve.”
“Rousing speech, pervert,” Finn said, one arm awkwardly trying to cover his breasts as he dripped water on the floor. He didn’t seem concerned with covering his dick, however. “Which of your favorite nerd movies did you steal that from?”
Bryce grabbed a towel off the nearby rack and tossed it to him.
“Dry off.”
Finn shook out the towel and dried his hair, then ran the coarse terrycloth down his body, his breath catching and a deep blush creeping up his face as he dried his breasts, his nipples tightening. He cleared his throat. “If you think humiliating me is going to make your pathetic lives any better, you’re not just nerds, you’re idiots.” He walked past them, over to his locker, and placed one foot up on the bench, his back to them as he bent forward to dry his leg.
The slick, pink lips of his pussy peeked out from between his legs, and Bryce slid up behind him, pressing the flat of his hand against that wet heat. Finn gasped, a shudder racking his lean, muscular body, and he moaned, pushing back against Bryce’s hand.
“You feel that?” Bryce asked as Finn ground against his hand. “This isn’t about humiliation, it’s about having you at our complete and total mercy. You’re like a bitch in heat, and you’ll be begging us to fuck you before this is over.”
“Oh, fuck! You bastards,” Finn groaned, his hips jerking as Bryce slid two fingers between those sensitive folds, stroking Finn’s clit and making his legs shake. He pulled his hand back, his cock hard enough to cut glass as he undid his jeans and shoved them down to his knees. He stroked himself, spreading Finn’s pussy juice along his shaft, and then stepped up behind the quarterback.
“Guess what this is, princess,” Bryce said, rubbing his knob against that slick slit, spreading Finn’s folds with his cockhead.
“Oh, God, is that what I think it is?” Finn panted, planting both feet on the floor and widening his stance. He bent farther, bracing his hands against the bench, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge. “You...you can’t do this to me. I’m a guy.”
“At the moment, your pussy would beg to differ,” Bryce said, pressing his cockhead against Finn’s virgin channel. The big man mewled like a kitten, shaking with need as his new body betrayed him, overwhelmed by the sensitivity of his new flesh. “You want it, don’t you?” Bryce asked, teasing that quivering hole, starting to push in, then pulling back. “Ask for it, princess. Beg for it.”
“Yes...yes, please,” Finn whimpered. “Give it to me.”
“Give you what, princess?”
“Your cock!” Finn all but shouted. “Put your cock in me, please!”
“Fuck, this is muy caliente,” Miguel whispered, reminding Bryce that he and Oliver were still there. Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Miguel.
“Film this, will you? I want a video of me popping his cherry.”
Bryce waited until Miguel gave him the nod, and then he pushed in, his cock squeezed by Finn’s tight channel. He met a momentary resistance, but a forceful thrust tore through the hymen. Finn cried out, his body shaking as Bryce slid in to the hilt.
“How does that feel, princess?” Bryce asked, grabbing Finn’s chiseled hips and holding himself deep in the quarterback’s pussy.
“B-big,” Finn panted. “You’re so big. I-I had no idea it would feel so good.”
“Yes, you’re hungry for cock, aren’t you, little princess,” Bryce said, reveling in this new power. It made his head spin, having Finn at his mercy. He began to pump his hips, pulling back until he almost slipped out, then thrusting hard, his balls slapping against Finn’s slick mound.
“Oh! Oh, fuck! I’m cumming!” Finn cried, his passage clenching around Bryce’s cock, waves of orgasm shuddering through him. Curious, Bryce glanced beneath Finn, but there was no semen on the floor and his cock was rock hard. Apparently, that was a pussy-only orgasm. Bryce pounded him harder, until he was panting and shaking. “Wh-what’s happening? I feel like I’m gonna cum again.”
Bryce laughed through gritted teeth, fighting against his own impending climax.
“Don’t you know, women can have multiple orgasms?” he asked. “Let me guess, you’re a ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ kind of guy.”
“Oh! Oh, God! Oh, fuck!” Finn shouted, his vaginal muscles gripping Bryce like a fist, bringing him to the most intense climax of his life. He drove deep into Finn, his balls trying to turn themselves inside out as he emptied his load. Groaning softly, he withdrew, staggering back as Finn’s knees buckled and he collapsed, catching himself on the bench.
Bryce turned to Miguel and Oliver, a lazy, sated smile on his face.
“So, who’s next? Or do you guys still want to leave?”
Miguel shoved the phone into Oliver’s hands, fumbling with his zipper as he rushed to get his jeans down.
“Hold on, why do you get to go next?” Oliver asked.
“Because it’s your turn to hold the camera,” Miguel answered, like it couldn’t be more obvious.
“But I thought you were straight,” Oliver argued.
“Duh—pussy,” Miguel said, trying to elbow Oliver out of the way.
Oliver pushed back, refusing to move. “Uh, hello? He’s got a dick.”
“Boys, boys, no need to fight,” Bryce said, zipping up and tugging his shirt down. “Our princess has enough holes for everyone. Oliver, you prefer ass anyway, right?”
“Forget it,” Finn panted, struggling to get to his feet. His legs still looked a little wobbly. “Nobody is fucking me in the ass.”
“Oh, well, in that case, we’ll be sure to tag you in that video of you begging for my cock,” Bryce said, reaching for the phone. “Do you want to see it, or should I just post it?”
“Fuck you!” Finn shouted, his face red as his gaze darted to each of them in turn. “Fuck you all!” He looked like he was going to cry.
“Yeah, that’s the plan, princess,” Bryce said. He went into the coach’s office and came out pushing a plush, leather office chair. “Have a seat, Miguel.”
Miguel looked confused for a moment, then the light of realization dawned in his eyes. He dropped his jeans and sat in the chair, squirming a little to rub his bare ass on the buttery-soft leather.
“Ven aqui, princess,” Miguel said, one hand gliding up and down his hard cock. He had a nice dick, both long and thick, and unlike Bryce and most of the guys he’d been with, Miguel was uncut, his dark foreskin covering a bulbous knob. He crooked his finger at Finn. “Come here.”
Finn balked, but Bryce gave him an encouraging shove, pushing him onto Miguel’s lap. The chair groaned beneath their weight as Finn straddled Miguel and sank down onto his cock, Finn’s back arching as Miguel filled his slippery tunnel.
“Mmm, magnifica,” Miguel murmured, his hands cupping Finn’s tits, kneading and squeezing the mounds of flesh. He bowed his head, lips capturing the taut nub of a nipple, and Finn moaned, rocking his hips and riding Miguel’s cock.
“We’re running out of battery,” Oliver said, handing Bryce the phone. He slid his tight black jeans down around his thighs, and Bryce was shocked to see a metal ring piercing the head of Oliver’s cock. Oliver caught him staring and gave his cock a slow stroke. “Like it? My birthday present to myself.”
“Didn’t it hurt?” Bryce asked, cringing a little at the thought.
Oliver shrugged. “A bit, but the added sensitivity has more than made up for it. Hey, you don’t have any lube, do you?”
“Are you kidding?” Bryce asked, looking down where Miguel and Finn’s bodies were joined. “The princess is dripping like a faucet. Use that.”
“It’s not as silky as a quality lube,” Oliver complained, coating his fingers in Finn’s juices. He slicked his cockhead and guided his pierced knob between Finn’s muscular ass cheeks, rubbing up and down over Finn’s tight hole. Finn froze, his mouth open, helpless little gasps escaping him as Miguel continued to suckle and tease his sensitive nipples.
Oliver eased into him, a slight frown creasing his brow as he concentrated. Bryce could see Finn tense, resisting, but it was futile. Oliver slid inside, filling Finn’s back passage, and forcing a breathless moan from his lips. Oliver leaned against Finn’s back and whispered in his ear.
“Don’t be scared, princess,” he said. “Being fucked in the ass doesn’t make you queer. Unless it feels good, of course.”
The look of panic on Finn’s face was priceless and it was all Bryce could do not to laugh out loud. Oliver was just fucking with him. Enjoying anal sex had very little to do with sexual orientation and everything to do with the sheer number of nerves located in and around the anus. It was simple biology, but something the die-hard homophobes couldn’t get past.
“This is even better than I imagined,” Bryce said, crouching down beside the chair to get the perfect angle. He filmed Oliver’s cock sliding slowly out, and then driving back in, Finn’s body bucking with each deep thrust. Miguel finally managed to pry his lips away from Finn’s tits, and he planted his feet firmly against the floor and raised his hips, thrusting up into Finn’s hot, wet pussy.
“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Finn shouted, digging his fingers into the back of the chair as he bucked and writhed between the two men. He sagged, panting, shuddering with the echoes of his orgasm, but within moments, he was arching again, desperate moans filling the locker room.
Bryce’s phone flashed the low battery warning and he reluctantly put it away, his hand rubbing his growing erection through his jeans as he watched his friends fuck Finn nearly senseless. The quarterback came at least twice more before Miguel arched his back, his face twisted in a grimace of ecstasy as he filled Finn’s pussy. He slumped, flushed and sweaty, his glasses fogged over, holding Finn’s hips while Oliver pounded into Finn’s ass. Finn gasped, a look of bewilderment on his face as he cried out, cumming again as Oliver slammed into him and dumped his load.
All three of them looked dazed as they uncoupled, Finn taking a staggering step toward his locker. Bryce caught him by the arm and pulled him back.
“We’re not done yet, princess,” he said.
“Oh, come on,” Finn groaned. “I can’t cum again, please.”
“We’ll see about that,” Bryce said, motioning for Miguel to get out of the chair. He pushed Finn down into the soft leather and dropped his jeans again. Finn practically sobbed as Bryce raised his long, muscular legs, hooking Finn’s ankles over his shoulders. With a glance at the clock on the wall, Bryce wasted no time plunging deep into Finn’s pussy, making him gasp and arch. Their hour was almost up. Finn was still as hot and tight at the first thrust, his muscular walls contracting and squeezing Bryce’s cock as Bryce fucked him hard and fast.
“Oh, God, not again,” Finn gasped, his tits bouncing as he bucked and shivered, a look of exquisite agony racing over his features. Feeling more then a little devious, Bryce reached down and grasped Finn’s cock, jerking him industriously as he continued to pound Finn’s pussy. Finn howled, clawing at the arms of the chair, as his cock erupted, striping his chest with strings of glistening pearls. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, his chin thumping against his chest.
“Oh, shit, you killed him,” Oliver gasped, but Bryce could see the rapid rise and fall of Finn’s chest. He was just unconscious. His own climax approaching, Bryce pulled out and stroked his slick cock, shooting his load onto Finn, thick strings dangling from the arrogant jock’s hair and nose.
Exhausted but extremely satisfied, Bryce put his clothes back in order and took out his phone one last time. He just hoped he had enough battery left.
“You probably don’t remember how this happened,” he said, filming Finn passed out in the chair. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we can do it again any time, and we will unless you start being a helluva lot nicer to all the freaks and queers and nerds that you think aren’t worth your time. Remember that.”
He shut off the video and went to Finn’s locker, pulling Finn’s phone out of his bag. After unlocking it with Finn’s thumb print, he texted the video to Finn’s number, and then put it back. With big, dopey smiles on their faces, they fled the locker room, slipping back out through the fence and hurrying down the street.
“Gracias, mi amigo,” Miguel said, clapping Bryce heartily on the back. “That was fucking amazing!”
“Yeah, man, thanks for sharing your spell book with us,” Oliver said.
“Thanks for believing me,” Bryce said. “I know it wasn’t easy. There’s just one more thing I need to ask you.” He stopped, regarding them with a grave expression, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for long. He grinned broadly. “Who should we do next?”
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It's not easy to bargain with demons, which Eddie discovers the hard way after he escapes death by trading his soul to the demon Azir, a handsome and charming resident of Hell. Azir promises to return Eddie's soul in exchange for allowing demons the use of his body for their own amusement. It's the last deal he wants to make, but if he wants to save his soul, it may be his only choice.
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alex_izeri
· 03 Dec 2023
Eddie allows Dwerk the imp to possess him, but it's Nick, the incubus, who finds a way to entertain them both.
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· 22 Dec 2023
Morning-after regret and all kinds of awkwardness await Eddie before he even has his first cup of coffee. As he and Nick embark on an epic quest to clean his basement, he discovers several things his grandfather kept hidden, including a strange old ring.
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An outcast dragon in the middle of mating season, Myr seeks relief in the only place he can find it -- with humans. Using his powers of mental persuasion, he compels a young woman into the forest and uses her to satisfy his burning desires.
It’s hard to be alone. There’s no one to tell you simple things, like why dragons don’t like the snow. It’s not that we have anything against snow—it’s pretty, all shiny white, and it makes the neatest crunching sounds under our feet. It’s that the shit is cold. And dragons don’t do well in the cold. I learned that the hard way.
It was autumn when I crossed the mountains. I think that’s the only reason I survived. The snow had receded to the highest peaks and the shadiest valleys, and I was at the crest before I discovered my error. I stood, staring down into a beautiful, green valley, full of rivers and trees and small villages, and—most importantly—no sign of another dragon. It was paradise. And the only thing between me and the respite I desperately needed, was a north-facing slope covered in deep snow and broken ice fields.
The ice was easy enough to navigate. My talons pierced the glassy surface and kept me from sliding, but the cold burned up through the scales of my feet, stealing the heat out of my legs. My muscles began to cramp. Then I hit the snow, my feet breaking through the icy crust and plunging into the wet slush beneath. I could literally feel the warmth bleeding out of my body, each step slower and more laborious than the last, my heart rate dropping to one or two beats a minute.
It was all I could do to keep moving. I just wanted to lie down and sleep, but I knew if I did, I’d never wake up again. Old dragons sometimes bruminate in ice caves, their body temperature dropping to just a few degrees above freezing, sleeping for a hundred years or more, but I was not nearly big enough to withstand something like that. So I pushed on, slogging through the melting snow and icy mud until I reached the treeline. I found a large, flat rock and curled up on it like a cat, basking until my temperature returned to normal.
Of course, once it did, the full force of my rut returned, the desire to mate singing through my blood. My cock hardened, making it uncomfortable to walk as I struggled to keep it from emerging from my body. The last thing I wanted was to get my dick caught in a blackberry bramble.
Slinking through the forest, I found the bank of a river. I drank my fill and snapped up a fish that got too close, but my hunger was not for food. I needed a different kind of satiation. I walked the riverbank, my long, black forked tongue flicking out to smell the air. I detected the scent of deer and rabbits, foxes and quail. None of that interested me, and then I found the a trail reeking of horse and human. I could smell their sweat and the smoke from their fires. I was near a village.
I crossed at their shallow fording place and found a marshy area nearby where I could roll in the mud to cover the ghastly white patches that marred my otherwise flawless dark blue and gold scales. It didn’t change anything, of course. I was still a freak, but at least I didn’t stand out like a pile of snow in the forest. I followed the trail to the edge of the woods and there it was, a human settlement, maybe fifty cottages and farms, surrounded by fields and meadows.
I nestled my long, sinuous body into a hollow beneath a fallen tree and settled down to wait for dark. Waiting, however, is not easy when your blood is boiling with mating hormones. It reminds you of how hard it is to be alone, which makes you think about why you’re alone, which makes you angry and bitter. It wasn’t my fault that I was born piebald, nor was it my fault that my mother was slaughtered by dragon slayers days before my clutch hatched, and was therefore unable to kill me at birth. And yet, every other dragon I’ve met has made it clear that my very existence is a personal insult to them.
Myrrusch is what they call me. It means ‘ugly’ and ‘bad omen’, but since I never had a mother to give me a name, I decided it would have to do. So, I’m Myr, the dragon of bad omens. I suppose for the people of this village, that’s true enough.
~*~*~*~
I crept through the darkness, a shadow moving across their fields, over fences, into the silent, empty lanes between their cottages. I paused outside each small, stone dwelling, reaching inside with my mind to search out the occupants, much as I might flick my tongue to search out a smell. That’s one way dragons communicate. We have spoken language, of course, but when we want to speak to a lesser creature, it must be done mind to mind. I wasn’t speaking to anyone, not yet, just touching their thoughts, getting a taste of them. Searching for the right one.
I found her in a small cottage, a young woman dreaming of sunshine and flowers. Her mind was like an open door, inviting me in. Some humans are more closed, those who have suffered hardship and loss. They build walls to protect themselves. The walls can’t keep me out, but breaking in is more difficult, more likely to be noticed. If a human realizes what I’m doing, they can resist me, which usually leads to all kinds of trouble.
I slipped into her dream, watching her dance across a field of wildflowers, surrounded by birds and butterflies as I sifted through her thoughts. Her name was Victoria, she was eighteen years old, and the son of a farmer had just asked her to marry him. She had said yes. No wonder her dreams were so bright and happy. I almost felt bad for needing to wake her.
A soft, gray kitten appeared, bouncing and frolicking around her feet as she teased it with a long stalk of grass. I watched for another moment, then took a breath and blew out a ball of blue flame, setting the kitten on fire. It shrieked as it writhed in the grass, blackened flesh turning to ash. Victoria screamed and the dream shattered as she jerked awake.
I pulled back to the surface of her thoughts as her fear and disorientation washed over me. Human emotions are strange things and best experienced from a distance. I waited until she had calmed down, and then I pushed in again, soothing her lingering unease.
It was just a bad dream, I whispered into her mind, keeping my touch soft so she would think it was her own thought. It’s stuffy in here. Some fresh air would be nice. Step outside. It’s a beautiful night.
I felt her balk at the thought of going outside, into the dark where the scary things lived.
The village is safe, I whispered. Don’t go far, just open the door and step out.
I heard the bed creak as she got up, heard her quiet footsteps as she walked to the door. She slid back the bolt and pulled it open, taking a hesitant step outside. I shrank back into the shadows between her cottage and the next. Her mind wasn’t ready to see me yet.
So pretty, I whispered into her thoughts. Look at the stars, so bright and clear. Feel the breeze. The air is so fresh. It’s so peaceful here. The forest must be beautiful at night. I wore down her apprehension, like a river wears down a stone, until she left her doorstep, her bare feet making no sound on the dirt road. I followed, keeping just a few paces behind her, as she headed for the forest.
It wasn’t hard to keep her walking, just repetitive and dull. Pretty stars, go to the forest, it’s safe, blah blah blah. Human minds are weak, soft things, so malleable, so fragile. I had to be careful not to get impatient and push too hard. Push a little too hard, and they realize you’re in there and shut you out. Push a lot and their mind turns to mush. I’ve only done that a couple of times, but it was more than enough. Humans might be lesser creatures, but that didn’t mean I wanted to harm them.
She reached the edge of the wood and she stopped, her fear rising up again, pushing me back. I dug into her thoughts, searching for the source of her unease. When she was a child, her parents told her that wolves lived in the woods and that she should never play there. Which I think was a lie. I didn’t smell a single trace of wolf anywhere in the forest, not even an old scent. They just didn’t want her getting lost or falling in the river. Sensible, but it made my life harder.
All the wolves are gone, I told her. Hunters chased them away. Everything is safe. Hear the river? Listen to the music of the water. It’s so peaceful. I gave her just a bit of a mental nudge, forcing away her fears. Soothed, she followed the path into the forest. I could see just fine, but I guess humans have fairly poor vision because she kept tripping over roots and walking too close to brambles. It made progress agonizingly slow.
Finally, we made it to the riverbank. Then came the hard part.
I had to find a way to reveal myself to her without causing her to completely freak out and shatter the rapport I had been building within her mind. Once again, I sifted through her thoughts and memories, looking back into her childhood, to stories she had been told. Not all were cautionary tales or lies meant to keep her out of trouble. Some were just stories, meant only to entertain, but they turned out to be the most useful.
Such a lovely night, I whispered to her. The kind of night when the forest guardian wanders the woods, protecting the trees and creatures. Wouldn’t it be something, to turn around and see the benevolent guardian spirit? Turn around and don’t be afraid.
I held my breath as she slowly turned, her eyes growing wide at the sight of me. This was one reason why I took her so far from the village—if she screamed, I had plenty of time to get away. I flicked my tongue and tasted the sour scent of her fear, but she just stared up at me, her whole body shaking.
Hello, human, I said, using a deeper, firmer mental voice so she wouldn’t recognize it as the voice in her head. Are you here to harm my forest or my creatures?
She shook her head, her mouth falling open. She tried several times before she managed to speak.
“N-No, great Guardian. I won’t hurt anything.” She had a pleasant voice, for a human.
I tilted my head to one side and looked down at her from one eye, as if scrutinizing her.
Are you sure? Humans often come into my forest to cut my trees and hunt my creatures.
“Not me, I swear!”
Prove it, I said, smirking to myself as I took a step toward her. Get on your knees. I added a bit of compulsion, like a caress in her mind, making her want to obey me. She was so distracted by the ‘guardian spirit’, she didn’t even notice.
She gathered up her nightdress so it wouldn’t get dirty and stepped over to a pile of leaves so she wouldn’t kneel in the mud, her face shining and open as she looked up at me, eager to do whatever I asked of her.
Ah, you are one of the good humans, I said, watching her beam with pleasure. I don’t do this very often, but I feel like bestowing upon you a great gift. Do you want it?
“Oh, yes please, Guardian,” she breathed. “I would be honored.”
Very well. I will let you touch the source of my power. It will grant you health and long life and happiness.
I moved closer, until I practically stood over her, my back feet planted on either side of her. Finally, I could relax and let my hard, aching cock slide out of my body. It hung in front of her, a glistening black rod of throbbing need, the tapered tip already leaking thick drops of precum.
Victoria dropped her gaze to the ground, blushing all the way down to the soft mounds of her breasts showing above the neckline of her dress. She might be innocent, but she wasn’t completely ignorant.
What’s the matter? I asked. Does my gift offend you?
“No, of course not, I just—”
Then touch it. I pushed the compulsion a little deeper into her mind, gratified when she raised her delicate hands and ghosted her fingertips over my slick cock. You can do better than that. Touch me, stroke me, worship me, or I will find another forest to nurture, and let this one crumble to dust.
“Please, don’t leave us, Guardian,” she said, doing her best to wrap her hands around my thick shaft. I struggled to hold still as she stroked up and down my length, the muscles in my groin twitching as I resisted the urge to thrust. I wanted to fuck something so bad.
Taste me, I told her. If you truly appreciate the gift I am giving you, drink of my power. One more soft, mental caress and she leaned close, her lips parting. Her hot tongue slid over my sensitive flesh, lapping up the nectar that dripped from my cock. I didn’t understand it then, but I know now that dragon precum and semen is chock full of pheromones. It’s how we find each other when we’re ready to mate—a chemical signal on the wind—but when humans get a taste of it, it acts like an aphrodisiac, making them unnaturally horny.
I flicked my tongue, the forest suddenly perfumed by her arousal, her temperature rising a few degrees, the heat centered between her legs. She forgot her earlier reluctance, running her hands up and down my cock, her tongue teasing the tip as she wrapped her lips around the tapered head, the forest echoing with her soft moans and loud slurps as she tried to suck the fluid out of me.
You please me, human, I said, twisting my long body around until I encircled her. I have another gift for you. I pushed my narrow muzzle between her knees, under her dress, the heady scent of her pussy almost overpowering. She made a noise of surprise and protest, muffled somewhat by my cock in her mouth, but I just pressed my nose between her thighs and flicked my tongue against her wet lips.
She gasped, my cockhead slipping from her mouth.
“Oh, please—You can’t! I-I’m a good girl, and that is so, so wicked!”
Does it feel wicked? I asked, licking again at her quivering mound. Or does it feel so, so good? I pushed my muscular tongue between her slick folds, rubbing against her swollen clit until she squealed with pleasure. I took advantage of her distraction to weave my tendrils deeper into her mind, eroding her will. She was almost mine.
I brought her to the brink of release, her hips rocking wantonly as I drew back, leaving her mewling with need. She reached out toward me, but I stepped away, my stiff cock swaying back and forth between my hind legs.
I have one last offer for you, I said. If you accept, I will bless your entire village with safety and prosperity. Think carefully before you answer—I will never make this offer again.
“I accept,” she said, rising unsteadily. “Please, tell me what I must do to earn your blessing.”
I raised my gaze to the spreading branches overhead, picking a sturdy one within reach. Bracing one forefoot against the trunk of a nearby tree, I sat up on my haunches, my long tail stretched out for balance. My rigid cock stood straight up against my scaled belly, the precum running down the shaft and glistening in the moonlight.
Come to me; let me hold you.
Victoria stepped toward me, but hesitated.
“You’re covered in mud. I don’t want to get dirty.”
I thought about telling her that she was already a dirty girl and not to worry about a little mud, but I sensed that would not go over well. I picked through her memories and found several from long ago, of an older girl at school who used to push Victoria into the mud whenever she got the chance. Victoria would get in trouble for ruining her clothes because she was afraid of the girl, and now her distaste of anything dirty was so deeply ingrained there was no getting around it. With a sigh, I dropped back down on four legs and headed for the river.
Don’t move, I told her, pushing the command firmly into her mind to make sure she wouldn’t wander off. I slipped down into the cold, rushing water, rolling and rubbing against the rocky bottom until I felt my heartbeat start to slow, the water draining the warmth from my body. I crawled out and gave myself a shake, but the water still streamed from my smooth scales, pattering against the carpet of fallen leaves.
Feeling a little sluggish, I returned to Victoria. She hadn’t moved a muscle in my absence.
Good girl, I told her, returning to my previous position. My cock had retreated into my body to escape the cold water, and now slid out again, a thick spear of aching flesh. You should take off your dress, just to be safe, I said to her. You don’t want it getting dirty.
Obediently, she pulled the thin nightdress off over her head and draped it over a bush. She was fair of flesh, her skin smooth. She had ample breasts with dark nipples, and a tightly curled thatch of golden hair between her legs. She waited, staring at me with glassy eyes, not seeming to care that she was standing naked in the woods. She was mine.
I called her to me and she came, letting me pick her up by the waist. She wasn’t heavy, but I had to be careful—my talons were very sharp and human flesh was about the most fragile thing imaginable. Let me tell you, nothing puts an end to the hanky-panky like an accidental disembowelment.
I pulled her up against my chest, savoring the warmth of her body.
Wrap your arms and legs around me, I told her. Hold on tight.
She gripped me with surprising strength and I let go of her, reaching up to grasp the branch instead, stretching my long body straight up into the air. For several minutes, neither of us moved, and then she began to slide. My wet scales were as slick as glass, giving her little purchase. Her body inched downward and my cock strained upward, throbbing with need as I felt the heat of her pussy against the tip. It touched her moist lips and she squirmed back up my torso.
I could feel the muscles in her arms and legs trembling, tiring from the strain of holding on. She slid again, palms flat against my back, sweaty flesh squealing against smooth scales as she fought to stop her descent. It was a hopeless struggle, but I admired her fortitude as she dug her knees into my sides and inched back up my body. The anticipation was the most delightful kind of torture, my aching cock fully extended and still unable to reach the warmth of her supple flesh. I could feel the heat of her each time she neared my cock head, only to have her squirm away again.
We were both trembling and out of breath when her strength finally gave out and she slid down my body, my cock sinking into her like a heat-seeking missile. She cried out in surprise as the tapered tip penetrated her virgin body, tearing through her maidenhead and filling her tight channel. It was the most amazing feeling, the way her inner walls squeezed and gripped my sensitive flesh, her body squirming against me as she tried to pull herself up again. It did no good. Every movement made her sink farther, take me deeper, her pussy stretching wide to accommodate my increasing girth.
Finally, I could take it no more. I ripped my talons free of the branch and reached down, gently cradling Victoria against my body, holding her still. Groaning low in my throat, I clenched the muscles in my groin, retracting my cock until I almost slipped out of her. I think she thought we were done, because I felt her relax, and then I thrust upward again, plunging deep into her slippery tunnel. She cried out, her body arching against me, but I held her tight, pounding into her.
I was far too big for her to take my entire length, but she managed a good ten inches, screaming and bucking and clawing at my chest as she came again and again, her lithe form wracked with waves of pleasure until she went limp in my arms, passed out from the ecstasy.
I wasn’t far behind her, my thrusts growing faster, harder, my blood surging with an urgency I couldn’t control. Dizzy with rut lust, I gasped and snorted, smoke boiling from my nostrils as I drove deep into her pussy and came, shuddering waves of pleasure shaking me to the bone as I dumped a massive load of cum into her small, human womb, the thick, hot cream filling her tight channel and overflowing, running down the length of my mighty rod.
Sated for the moment, I carefully lifted her off of me, my cock softening and retracting back into the safety of my armored body. She moaned as she regained consciousness and I set her on her feet, holding her up as she staggered. Victoria looked up at me and I watched an expression of horror and panic start to steal across her features. Quickly, I pushed into her mind and swept those feelings aside.
Everything is all right, I told her, using the strongest compulsion I dared. It was just a dream. Put on your dress and go home. Forget the dream ever happened. Go now. Her eyes glazed over and I stepped aside, watching as she slipped back into her nightdress and headed for the village.
With one need satisfied, if only for a few days, I could focus on other things, like finding food and a den. I would need a place to hide while I planned my next raid on this village. They had no idea just how fucked they were about to be be, and if I was careful, they never would.
It’s hard to be alone. There’s no one to tell you simple things, like why dragons don’t like the snow. It’s not that we have anything against snow—it’s pretty, all shiny white, and it makes the neatest crunching sounds under our feet. It’s that the shit is cold. And dragons don’t do well in the cold. I learned that the hard way.
It was autumn when I crossed the mountains. I think that’s the only reason I survived. The snow had receded to the highest peaks and the shadiest valleys, and I was at the crest before I discovered my error. I stood, staring down into a beautiful, green valley, full of rivers and trees and small villages, and—most importantly—no sign of another dragon. It was paradise. And the only thing between me and the respite I desperately needed, was a north-facing slope covered in deep snow and broken ice fields.
The ice was easy enough to navigate. My talons pierced the glassy surface and kept me from sliding, but the cold burned up through the scales of my feet, stealing the heat out of my legs. My muscles began to cramp. Then I hit the snow, my feet breaking through the icy crust and plunging into the wet slush beneath. I could literally feel the warmth bleeding out of my body, each step slower and more laborious than the last, my heart rate dropping to one or two beats a minute.
It was all I could do to keep moving. I just wanted to lie down and sleep, but I knew if I did, I’d never wake up again. Old dragons sometimes bruminate in ice caves, their body temperature dropping to just a few degrees above freezing, sleeping for a hundred years or more, but I was not nearly big enough to withstand something like that. So I pushed on, slogging through the melting snow and icy mud until I reached the treeline. I found a large, flat rock and curled up on it like a cat, basking until my temperature returned to normal.
Of course, once it did, the full force of my rut returned, the desire to mate singing through my blood. My cock hardened, making it uncomfortable to walk as I struggled to keep it from emerging from my body. The last thing I wanted was to get my dick caught in a blackberry bramble.
Slinking through the forest, I found the bank of a river. I drank my fill and snapped up a fish that got too close, but my hunger was not for food. I needed a different kind of satiation. I walked the riverbank, my long, black forked tongue flicking out to smell the air. I detected the scent of deer and rabbits, foxes and quail. None of that interested me, and then I found the a trail reeking of horse and human. I could smell their sweat and the smoke from their fires. I was near a village.
I crossed at their shallow fording place and found a marshy area nearby where I could roll in the mud to cover the ghastly white patches that marred my otherwise flawless dark blue and gold scales. It didn’t change anything, of course. I was still a freak, but at least I didn’t stand out like a pile of snow in the forest. I followed the trail to the edge of the woods and there it was, a human settlement, maybe fifty cottages and farms, surrounded by fields and meadows.
I nestled my long, sinuous body into a hollow beneath a fallen tree and settled down to wait for dark. Waiting, however, is not easy when your blood is boiling with mating hormones. It reminds you of how hard it is to be alone, which makes you think about why you’re alone, which makes you angry and bitter. It wasn’t my fault that I was born piebald, nor was it my fault that my mother was slaughtered by dragon slayers days before my clutch hatched, and was therefore unable to kill me at birth. And yet, every other dragon I’ve met has made it clear that my very existence is a personal insult to them.
Myrrusch is what they call me. It means ‘ugly’ and ‘bad omen’, but since I never had a mother to give me a name, I decided it would have to do. So, I’m Myr, the dragon of bad omens. I suppose for the people of this village, that’s true enough.
~*~*~*~
I crept through the darkness, a shadow moving across their fields, over fences, into the silent, empty lanes between their cottages. I paused outside each small, stone dwelling, reaching inside with my mind to search out the occupants, much as I might flick my tongue to search out a smell. That’s one way dragons communicate. We have spoken language, of course, but when we want to speak to a lesser creature, it must be done mind to mind. I wasn’t speaking to anyone, not yet, just touching their thoughts, getting a taste of them. Searching for the right one.
I found her in a small cottage, a young woman dreaming of sunshine and flowers. Her mind was like an open door, inviting me in. Some humans are more closed, those who have suffered hardship and loss. They build walls to protect themselves. The walls can’t keep me out, but breaking in is more difficult, more likely to be noticed. If a human realizes what I’m doing, they can resist me, which usually leads to all kinds of trouble.
I slipped into her dream, watching her dance across a field of wildflowers, surrounded by birds and butterflies as I sifted through her thoughts. Her name was Victoria, she was eighteen years old, and the son of a farmer had just asked her to marry him. She had said yes. No wonder her dreams were so bright and happy. I almost felt bad for needing to wake her.
A soft, gray kitten appeared, bouncing and frolicking around her feet as she teased it with a long stalk of grass. I watched for another moment, then took a breath and blew out a ball of blue flame, setting the kitten on fire. It shrieked as it writhed in the grass, blackened flesh turning to ash. Victoria screamed and the dream shattered as she jerked awake.
I pulled back to the surface of her thoughts as her fear and disorientation washed over me. Human emotions are strange things and best experienced from a distance. I waited until she had calmed down, and then I pushed in again, soothing her lingering unease.
It was just a bad dream, I whispered into her mind, keeping my touch soft so she would think it was her own thought. It’s stuffy in here. Some fresh air would be nice. Step outside. It’s a beautiful night.
I felt her balk at the thought of going outside, into the dark where the scary things lived.
The village is safe, I whispered. Don’t go far, just open the door and step out.
I heard the bed creak as she got up, heard her quiet footsteps as she walked to the door. She slid back the bolt and pulled it open, taking a hesitant step outside. I shrank back into the shadows between her cottage and the next. Her mind wasn’t ready to see me yet.
So pretty, I whispered into her thoughts. Look at the stars, so bright and clear. Feel the breeze. The air is so fresh. It’s so peaceful here. The forest must be beautiful at night. I wore down her apprehension, like a river wears down a stone, until she left her doorstep, her bare feet making no sound on the dirt road. I followed, keeping just a few paces behind her, as she headed for the forest.
It wasn’t hard to keep her walking, just repetitive and dull. Pretty stars, go to the forest, it’s safe, blah blah blah. Human minds are weak, soft things, so malleable, so fragile. I had to be careful not to get impatient and push too hard. Push a little too hard, and they realize you’re in there and shut you out. Push a lot and their mind turns to mush. I’ve only done that a couple of times, but it was more than enough. Humans might be lesser creatures, but that didn’t mean I wanted to harm them.
She reached the edge of the wood and she stopped, her fear rising up again, pushing me back. I dug into her thoughts, searching for the source of her unease. When she was a child, her parents told her that wolves lived in the woods and that she should never play there. Which I think was a lie. I didn’t smell a single trace of wolf anywhere in the forest, not even an old scent. They just didn’t want her getting lost or falling in the river. Sensible, but it made my life harder.
All the wolves are gone, I told her. Hunters chased them away. Everything is safe. Hear the river? Listen to the music of the water. It’s so peaceful. I gave her just a bit of a mental nudge, forcing away her fears. Soothed, she followed the path into the forest. I could see just fine, but I guess humans have fairly poor vision because she kept tripping over roots and walking too close to brambles. It made progress agonizingly slow.
Finally, we made it to the riverbank. Then came the hard part.
I had to find a way to reveal myself to her without causing her to completely freak out and shatter the rapport I had been building within her mind. Once again, I sifted through her thoughts and memories, looking back into her childhood, to stories she had been told. Not all were cautionary tales or lies meant to keep her out of trouble. Some were just stories, meant only to entertain, but they turned out to be the most useful.
Such a lovely night, I whispered to her. The kind of night when the forest guardian wanders the woods, protecting the trees and creatures. Wouldn’t it be something, to turn around and see the benevolent guardian spirit? Turn around and don’t be afraid.
I held my breath as she slowly turned, her eyes growing wide at the sight of me. This was one reason why I took her so far from the village—if she screamed, I had plenty of time to get away. I flicked my tongue and tasted the sour scent of her fear, but she just stared up at me, her whole body shaking.
Hello, human, I said, using a deeper, firmer mental voice so she wouldn’t recognize it as the voice in her head. Are you here to harm my forest or my creatures?
She shook her head, her mouth falling open. She tried several times before she managed to speak.
“N-No, great Guardian. I won’t hurt anything.” She had a pleasant voice, for a human.
I tilted my head to one side and looked down at her from one eye, as if scrutinizing her.
Are you sure? Humans often come into my forest to cut my trees and hunt my creatures.
“Not me, I swear!”
Prove it, I said, smirking to myself as I took a step toward her. Get on your knees. I added a bit of compulsion, like a caress in her mind, making her want to obey me. She was so distracted by the ‘guardian spirit’, she didn’t even notice.
She gathered up her nightdress so it wouldn’t get dirty and stepped over to a pile of leaves so she wouldn’t kneel in the mud, her face shining and open as she looked up at me, eager to do whatever I asked of her.
Ah, you are one of the good humans, I said, watching her beam with pleasure. I don’t do this very often, but I feel like bestowing upon you a great gift. Do you want it?
“Oh, yes please, Guardian,” she breathed. “I would be honored.”
Very well. I will let you touch the source of my power. It will grant you health and long life and happiness.
I moved closer, until I practically stood over her, my back feet planted on either side of her. Finally, I could relax and let my hard, aching cock slide out of my body. It hung in front of her, a glistening black rod of throbbing need, the tapered tip already leaking thick drops of precum.
Victoria dropped her gaze to the ground, blushing all the way down to the soft mounds of her breasts showing above the neckline of her dress. She might be innocent, but she wasn’t completely ignorant.
What’s the matter? I asked. Does my gift offend you?
“No, of course not, I just—”
Then touch it. I pushed the compulsion a little deeper into her mind, gratified when she raised her delicate hands and ghosted her fingertips over my slick cock. You can do better than that. Touch me, stroke me, worship me, or I will find another forest to nurture, and let this one crumble to dust.
“Please, don’t leave us, Guardian,” she said, doing her best to wrap her hands around my thick shaft. I struggled to hold still as she stroked up and down my length, the muscles in my groin twitching as I resisted the urge to thrust. I wanted to fuck something so bad.
Taste me, I told her. If you truly appreciate the gift I am giving you, drink of my power. One more soft, mental caress and she leaned close, her lips parting. Her hot tongue slid over my sensitive flesh, lapping up the nectar that dripped from my cock. I didn’t understand it then, but I know now that dragon precum and semen is chock full of pheromones. It’s how we find each other when we’re ready to mate—a chemical signal on the wind—but when humans get a taste of it, it acts like an aphrodisiac, making them unnaturally horny.
I flicked my tongue, the forest suddenly perfumed by her arousal, her temperature rising a few degrees, the heat centered between her legs. She forgot her earlier reluctance, running her hands up and down my cock, her tongue teasing the tip as she wrapped her lips around the tapered head, the forest echoing with her soft moans and loud slurps as she tried to suck the fluid out of me.
You please me, human, I said, twisting my long body around until I encircled her. I have another gift for you. I pushed my narrow muzzle between her knees, under her dress, the heady scent of her pussy almost overpowering. She made a noise of surprise and protest, muffled somewhat by my cock in her mouth, but I just pressed my nose between her thighs and flicked my tongue against her wet lips.
She gasped, my cockhead slipping from her mouth.
“Oh, please—You can’t! I-I’m a good girl, and that is so, so wicked!”
Does it feel wicked? I asked, licking again at her quivering mound. Or does it feel so, so good? I pushed my muscular tongue between her slick folds, rubbing against her swollen clit until she squealed with pleasure. I took advantage of her distraction to weave my tendrils deeper into her mind, eroding her will. She was almost mine.
I brought her to the brink of release, her hips rocking wantonly as I drew back, leaving her mewling with need. She reached out toward me, but I stepped away, my stiff cock swaying back and forth between my hind legs.
I have one last offer for you, I said. If you accept, I will bless your entire village with safety and prosperity. Think carefully before you answer—I will never make this offer again.
“I accept,” she said, rising unsteadily. “Please, tell me what I must do to earn your blessing.”
I raised my gaze to the spreading branches overhead, picking a sturdy one within reach. Bracing one forefoot against the trunk of a nearby tree, I sat up on my haunches, my long tail stretched out for balance. My rigid cock stood straight up against my scaled belly, the precum running down the shaft and glistening in the moonlight.
Come to me; let me hold you.
Victoria stepped toward me, but hesitated.
“You’re covered in mud. I don’t want to get dirty.”
I thought about telling her that she was already a dirty girl and not to worry about a little mud, but I sensed that would not go over well. I picked through her memories and found several from long ago, of an older girl at school who used to push Victoria into the mud whenever she got the chance. Victoria would get in trouble for ruining her clothes because she was afraid of the girl, and now her distaste of anything dirty was so deeply ingrained there was no getting around it. With a sigh, I dropped back down on four legs and headed for the river.
Don’t move, I told her, pushing the command firmly into her mind to make sure she wouldn’t wander off. I slipped down into the cold, rushing water, rolling and rubbing against the rocky bottom until I felt my heartbeat start to slow, the water draining the warmth from my body. I crawled out and gave myself a shake, but the water still streamed from my smooth scales, pattering against the carpet of fallen leaves.
Feeling a little sluggish, I returned to Victoria. She hadn’t moved a muscle in my absence.
Good girl, I told her, returning to my previous position. My cock had retreated into my body to escape the cold water, and now slid out again, a thick spear of aching flesh. You should take off your dress, just to be safe, I said to her. You don’t want it getting dirty.
Obediently, she pulled the thin nightdress off over her head and draped it over a bush. She was fair of flesh, her skin smooth. She had ample breasts with dark nipples, and a tightly curled thatch of golden hair between her legs. She waited, staring at me with glassy eyes, not seeming to care that she was standing naked in the woods. She was mine.
I called her to me and she came, letting me pick her up by the waist. She wasn’t heavy, but I had to be careful—my talons were very sharp and human flesh was about the most fragile thing imaginable. Let me tell you, nothing puts an end to the hanky-panky like an accidental disembowelment.
I pulled her up against my chest, savoring the warmth of her body.
Wrap your arms and legs around me, I told her. Hold on tight.
She gripped me with surprising strength and I let go of her, reaching up to grasp the branch instead, stretching my long body straight up into the air. For several minutes, neither of us moved, and then she began to slide. My wet scales were as slick as glass, giving her little purchase. Her body inched downward and my cock strained upward, throbbing with need as I felt the heat of her pussy against the tip. It touched her moist lips and she squirmed back up my torso.
I could feel the muscles in her arms and legs trembling, tiring from the strain of holding on. She slid again, palms flat against my back, sweaty flesh squealing against smooth scales as she fought to stop her descent. It was a hopeless struggle, but I admired her fortitude as she dug her knees into my sides and inched back up my body. The anticipation was the most delightful kind of torture, my aching cock fully extended and still unable to reach the warmth of her supple flesh. I could feel the heat of her each time she neared my cock head, only to have her squirm away again.
We were both trembling and out of breath when her strength finally gave out and she slid down my body, my cock sinking into her like a heat-seeking missile. She cried out in surprise as the tapered tip penetrated her virgin body, tearing through her maidenhead and filling her tight channel. It was the most amazing feeling, the way her inner walls squeezed and gripped my sensitive flesh, her body squirming against me as she tried to pull herself up again. It did no good. Every movement made her sink farther, take me deeper, her pussy stretching wide to accommodate my increasing girth.
Finally, I could take it no more. I ripped my talons free of the branch and reached down, gently cradling Victoria against my body, holding her still. Groaning low in my throat, I clenched the muscles in my groin, retracting my cock until I almost slipped out of her. I think she thought we were done, because I felt her relax, and then I thrust upward again, plunging deep into her slippery tunnel. She cried out, her body arching against me, but I held her tight, pounding into her.
I was far too big for her to take my entire length, but she managed a good ten inches, screaming and bucking and clawing at my chest as she came again and again, her lithe form wracked with waves of pleasure until she went limp in my arms, passed out from the ecstasy.
I wasn’t far behind her, my thrusts growing faster, harder, my blood surging with an urgency I couldn’t control. Dizzy with rut lust, I gasped and snorted, smoke boiling from my nostrils as I drove deep into her pussy and came, shuddering waves of pleasure shaking me to the bone as I dumped a massive load of cum into her small, human womb, the thick, hot cream filling her tight channel and overflowing, running down the length of my mighty rod.
Sated for the moment, I carefully lifted her off of me, my cock softening and retracting back into the safety of my armored body. She moaned as she regained consciousness and I set her on her feet, holding her up as she staggered. Victoria looked up at me and I watched an expression of horror and panic start to steal across her features. Quickly, I pushed into her mind and swept those feelings aside.
Everything is all right, I told her, using the strongest compulsion I dared. It was just a dream. Put on your dress and go home. Forget the dream ever happened. Go now. Her eyes glazed over and I stepped aside, watching as she slipped back into her nightdress and headed for the village.
With one need satisfied, if only for a few days, I could focus on other things, like finding food and a den. I would need a place to hide while I planned my next raid on this village. They had no idea just how fucked they were about to be be, and if I was careful, they never would.
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Vivian visits a 'specialty' whorehouse that promises to deliver her every fantasy--satisfaction guaranteed. She thinks she might be bisexual and is curious to find out, but she's not really expecting to find herself in bed with a mermaid and a dragon. Boy is she in for a surprise!
It took Vivian three tries to cross the street and two more to make it up the front walk and onto the porch of the old, Victorian-style house. Her hand trembling, she reached out and rang the bell, and very nearly lost her nerve completely. She turned to flee just as the door opened. A tall, dapper gentleman wearing a gray suit with a blue and silver waistcoat stepped out and caught her by the wrist. His hand was warm against her skin, almost hot, his grip like iron. Heart pounding, Vivian looked up at him.
He was handsome, his features refined and sculpted, his eyes a startling shade of dark blue, but he was almost too perfect, like he couldn’t possibly be real. He wore small, square spectacles and a high, midnight blue top hat, a glossy black feather tucked into the silver silk band and held in place by a sapphire studded hat pin.
“Good afternoon, my dear,” he said, his voice deep and cultured, but with a hint of an accent that made him sound exotic and lyrical. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t begin to guess where he might be from. “What brings you to my den of desire?”
Vivian blushed, her whole body burning as she swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.
“I want—I mean, my friend told me about this place,” she said. “It is true? That I can have whatever I want?”
“It is true,” he said, his grip on her wrist melting into a soft caress as he released her. “Please, come inside and we can discuss what I can offer you.”
Vivian hesitated. Her legs felt numb. She shouldn’t be doing this. She knew this was a bad idea, but the things Gloria had told her...She couldn’t walk away. Instead, she followed the man into the house.
He led her down a hall into a small sitting room and gestured to an antique-looking high-backed chair with floral upholstery and carved, claw feet.
“May I offer you something to drink, my dear? Water, or tea perhaps? Maybe something a bit stronger?” He smiled, his teeth even and very white against his brown skin.
“No, thank you,” she replied, sinking down on the edge of the seat, her hands gripping her knees.
“Very well. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Maximus, the proprietor of this establishment. I am the one who can bring your most secret and intimate of fantasies to life, who can grant you the darkest desires of your heart. Now, what shall we call you? And it doesn’t have to be your real name, if that will make you more comfortable.”
“Oh, um...Call me Vivian, I guess,” she said. Gloria had said they were very discreet, and besides, they’d see her name on her credit card when it came time to pay. Which reminded her… “Do you accept credit?”
“Of a sort,” Maximus said with a crooked grin. “Let’s not worry about that right now. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here. You’re a very pretty woman; surely you have no trouble getting all the sex you want.”
Vivian blushed again, looking down at the carpet as he sank gracefully into the chair across from her. “I have had a few boyfriends,” she confessed, “and I have...you know...with a couple of them.”
“My dear Vivian, I certainly do know, but if you can’t even say the words, then this is probably not the right place for you,” Maximus said, making like he was going to stand up again.
“We fucked,” Vivian blurted out. She breathed a sigh of relief as he relaxed back into the chair and motioned for her to continue. “Anyway, yes, I’ve had sex with guys, but never...a woman. I think I want to—I may be bisexual—but I’m not sure, and I don’t want to just use some random woman in order to find out.”
“I sympathize, my dear,” Maximus said, “but I run a specialty brothel, and to be frank, there’s nothing special about your request. I can refer you to several quality establishments that can help you discover the truth about your sexuality—”
“There’s more,” Vivian said. “You see, the reason I think I might be bi is because I have this fantasy about having sex with a mermaid. And a dragon.”
“Ohhh, now we’re talking,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Tell me all about them, every last detail.”
Vivian talked for almost half an hour, describing the creatures and what she wanted them to do to her. She was out of breath and very horny by the time she finished. Maximus sat forward in his chair and adjusted his hat.
“All right, I think we can work with that. Now, let’s talk payment.”
Vivian pulled her purse up into her lap and reached for her wallet.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, pulling off his hat and releasing a wild tangle of copper curls. He reached inside it and pulled out a rolled up sheet of paper. “This is our standard contract, guaranteeing your complete satisfaction in exchange for a small portion of your soul. Now, normally, I only charge one or two percent for a fantasy, but yours is quite elaborate, so I’m going to have to ask for five percent.” He unrolled the paper and spread it on the small table between them, the surface covered in fine print that was nearly impossible to read.
“Hang on, did you say you want my soul?”
“That’s right. Just a tiny piece of it, though.”
“This is insane,” Vivian said, leaning forward and squinting at the minuscule writing. “What do you want my soul for?”
“It’s an investment, nothing more,” Maximus said with a disarming smile. “If I had your whole soul, I might be able to do something, but a fraction like that is practically worthless.”
“Then why do you want it?”
Maximus shrugged his elegant shoulders. “Why not? It adds to the allure and mystery of my business. Swiping your Mastercard is not nearly as sexy as selling your soul.”
Vivian licked dry lips. “Where do I sign?”
“Right here.” Maximus pulled the jeweled hatpin out of the silk band and pointed to a blank space at the bottom of the contract. She reached out to pick up the pen lying on the table and with a flick of his wrist, Maximus stabbed the tip of the hatpin into her finger.
“Ouch!” she said, jerking back, but it was too late. A large, dark drop of blood dripped onto the paper, hissing and smoking as it crawled across the page, scrawling her name in an elegant script.
“Thank you very much, my dear,” Maximus said, returning the pin to his hat and the hat to his head. He rolled up the contract and tucked it inside his jacket, then reached out for her hand as he rose to his feet. “Now, if you’ll follow me, your erotic fantasy is about to begin.”
In a daze, Vivian followed him up a flight of winding stairs to the second floor. She couldn’t stop thinking about her blood on the contract, the way her name had written itself on the paper. If that was a trick, it was a damn good one, but an uneasy weight in the pit of her stomach had her struggling desperately to explain how such a thing could be possible. Was she drugged and hallucinating? She had refused the drink he’d offered. Perhaps she was hypnotized and imagining things. She didn’t remember being put into a trance, but he might have instructed her not to remember. That seemed the most likely explanation, and she clung to it for the sake of her sanity.
“This is our master suite,” Maximus said, stopping outside an ordinary looking bedroom door. “Within, you will find everything that you desire. Just remember, this is your fantasy, and nothing can harm you. When you are ready, enter and enjoy.” He gave her a small, knowing smile and stepped back from the door.
As nervous as she was, Vivian could not deny her own curiosity. As far as showmanship went, this place was a ten, and when she reached out and opened the door, she almost believed there would be a mermaid and a dragon waiting on the other side.
She stepped into the room, at once overwhelmed by the stately beauty of the antique bed and the fine furnishings, and at the same time, disappointed to find it empty. She felt silly for hoping for the impossible and flopped down on the huge bed with a gusty sigh.
Splash!
Vivian sat bolt upright, her heart pounding, as something made a loud splashing sound in the adjoining bathroom.
“Hello?” she called. “Is someone there?”
A feminine voice giggled and answered, “Why don’t you come and see for yourself?”
Vivian closed her eyes and took a bracing breath. “It’s not real,” she whispered, then rose from the bed and marched into the bathroom, determined to see through the illusion and not be fooled by Maximus’ cheap tricks. That determination lasted all of three seconds once she stepped through the doorway and feasted her eyes upon the dusky mermaid lounging in the huge, claw-footed bathtub.
Hair as black as night spilled over bare, golden-brown shoulders, her wet skin gleaming as she draped her arms gracefully over the rim of the bath, the water lapping against her full breasts as her tail swished back and forth. From the waist up, she was the most beautiful woman, and from the hips down, she was a sleek, iridescent fish, her scales and fins shimmering with blue and green and gold.
“Hello there, human female,” the mermaid said, her dark eyes moving down Vivian’s body. “I am Mariana, Queen of the Depths. And who might you be?”
“V-Vivian,” she whispered.
Queen Mariana regarded her for a moment. “Well, Vivian?” she asked finally. “Are you going to attend me or not? I need to be bathed.”
“Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” Vivian said, snapping out of her daze and deciding to play along. This was much more creative than what she had described to Maximus. Trembling inside, she approached the tub, devouring every inch of supple flesh and gauzy fin. Grasping the soap, she leaned over the tub, dipped her hands into the warm water, and began to wash the mermaid’s arm.
Splash!
Vivian gasped as a flick of that powerful tail drenched her from head to toe. Shocked, she stood dripping on the tile floor, not sure what to do.
“I’m sorry, did I get you wet?” the Queen asked. “Better take those off so they can dry.”
Suddenly self-conscious, Vivian turned her back to the tub and began to remove her clothes. She stripped down to her bra and panties, then turned back, fighting the urge to cover herself with her hands. She knew she was in shape and not bad to look at, but compared to the mermaid, she was just a dowdy old frump with too much belly and not enough boobs.
“Oh, my, what lovely legs you have,” Queen Mariana said, leaning on the edge of the tub to get a closer look.
“Really?” Vivian said, looking down. Her thighs were too thick, her knees knobby, and she had faded scars on one shin from a bicycle accident in college.
“Oh, yes. Come here so I may touch them.”
Vivian stepped closer as the mermaid reached out, trailing slender fingers over Vivian’s skin, sending a flash of hot desire through Vivian’s body. She wanted to feel those elegant hands all over her, and she shivered as soft fingertips slid up her inner thigh and brushed against the silky material of her panties.
“Why, these are wet, too,” Queen Mariana said, hooking her fingers into the lace waistband and pulling Vivian’s panties down. “You are dripping wet and shivering, my dear. Come into the tub with me and warm up.”
Vivian needed no second invitation. Sitting on the edge, she swung her legs over, intending to sit down by the mermaid’s tail, where there was plenty of room in the over-sized tub, but Queen Mariana had other ideas. Grabbing Vivian by the hips, she pulled her into the water, on top of herself, until Vivian was kneeling astride that supple fish tail, the smooth, slippery scales pressed against her inner thighs.
“We don’t want this to get wet, either,” the Queen said, unfastening Vivian’s bra and sliding it off her shoulders. Vivian watched it sail through the air and land on the tiled floor. “That’s much better, isn’t it? Such nice tits should not be covered and restrained. They should be worshiped and enjoyed.” Vivian gasped as warm, soft hands cupped her breasts, kneading the firm flesh and teasing her nipples into hard points.
Suddenly, the Queen stopped. “What’s wrong? Don’t you think my tits are nice enough to be worshiped, too?”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Vivian said, pressing her hands to the wet, warm skin. Hesitantly at first, she caressed the firm mounds, but as Queen Mariana moaned and arched her body into Vivian’s hands, her confidence increased. She teased the mermaid’s dark nipples, rolling the pebbled flesh between her finger and thumb. “Please, my Queen,” she asked breathlessly, “may I kiss you?”
In answer, Queen Mariana raised her head and captured Vivian’s lips in a hungry kiss. Vivian’s head spun, her body burning with desire. It was everything she had imagined, and more, the sensation of being touched by a female hand both foreign and exciting, as well as familiar and comforting.
Tongues tangling, Vivian closed her eyes, moaning as that soft hand left her breast, sliding down wet skin to tug and tease Vivian’s neatly trimmed curls. She gasped as the mermaid stroked her pussy, rubbing against her sensitive mound before slipping two fingers between her swollen lips and tracing a slow circle around her throbbing clit.
Panting, Vivian rocked her hips, the water sloshing all around them and splashing out onto the floor as she ground against Queen Mariana’s hand. Pulling back, the mermaid laughed.
“Perhaps we should move this someplace dryer, before we flood the entire house.”
“Can you do that?” Vivian asked, breathless as she continued to stroke the Queen’s perfect breasts. “Leave the water, I mean?”
“Of course,” she replied. “When dry, my fins become legs, although not nearly as shapely as yours.” Beneath the water, she caressed one of Vivian’s thighs, her hand creeping around to grip and knead her firm ass.
“Mmm, I should probably find some towels, then,” Vivian moaned, reluctant to leave the tub.
“I saw some in the bedroom, on the dresser.”
Still, Vivian didn’t move. The water was warm and Queen Mariana’s skin was so soft. After a moment, the mermaid leaned close and whispered in Vivian’s ear.
“Once I have legs, I’ll let you taste my pussy.”
Vivian shot out of the water and scrambled over the edge of the tub so fast her wet feet nearly went sliding out from under her. The mermaid laughed, a lilting, musical sound, as Vivian ran stark-naked from the room, the chill air raising goosebumps along her bare body. She rushed toward the dresser, where a tall stack of fluffy towels waited, but stopped dead as something long and dark and sinuous slithered across the floor in front of her.
Heart pounding, she turned toward the bed, and came face to face with a huge, red-brown dragon draped across the mattress. Orange eyes flickering like live coals stared back at her from a deep-set skull covered in scales and spikes and twisting horns. The beast had a long neck and tail, and a muscular body in between, with a pair of large, leathery wings folded against its back.
“There you are,” the dragon said, small curls of smoke rising up from its nostrils. “You know, it’s not wise to keep a dragon waiting. It doesn’t take long to go from horny to hungry.” A long black tongue slid out of the dragon’s mouth, the forked tip flicking in the air.
“I-I’m sorry,” Vivian stammered. “I didn’t know you were waiting. I was with Queen Mariana—”
The dragon snorted, singeing the bedspread as flames erupted from its nostrils. “That overgrown trout is no queen! Where is she? I’ll turn her into sushi.” It started to get up, the bed frame creaking and groaning beneath its weight.
“I think she left already,” Vivian said, stepping away from the bathroom door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it,” the dragon said sulkily as it lay back down. “I am Fyre, Terror of the Skies, Devourer of Souls, the flame that burns forever.”
Behind her, in the bathroom, Vivian thought she heard a soft splash and what sounded like someone muttering, “Oh, brother,” but she couldn’t be sure.
“I’m very humbled to meet you,” she said. “Forgive me, but are you a male dragon, or a female?”
“Can’t you tell?” Fyre said with another snort. “Of course you can’t. Humans are such ignorant, blind little creatures. I am female, as you could plainly tell if you bothered to look.” She rolled onto her side and raised her hind leg, exposing her scaled underbelly. Down between her legs, at the base of her tail, there was a slight bulge, the glossy scales creased and dimpled, forming a slit in her armored hide.
“Oh, of course,” Vivian said. “I see now. How silly of me.”
“Good, now what that’s cleared up, don’t just stand there,” Fyre said. “Come here.”
Cautiously, Vivian moved closer, stepping over the end of the snake-like tail. She stopped at the corner of the bed. “What would you like me to do?”
With a flick of her powerful tail, Fyre sent Vivian sprawling on her face upon the bed.
“I would like you to to do as I say the first time,” the dragon said testily. “I said come here.”
Wary of the tail, Vivian crawled onto the bed beside the dragon.
“Now, rub your hand along my cloaca.”
Vivian reached out, her fingers hovering over the slit in the dragon’s scales. “Here?”
“Yes, there. Rub hard. Ohhh, just like that.”
The scales were smooth and warm and softer than Vivian had imagined, more like flexible plastic, giving as she pressed against the dragon’s slit. Thick, clear fluid welled up, slicking her fingers, as the slight bulge began to swell. Vivian gasped, pulling her hand back, as the scales gaped open, revealing slick, pink flesh within. It looked a lot like a human pussy, only about three times bigger.
“What is this?” Vivian asked, hesitantly rubbing a large nub of dark flesh that hardened at her touch.
“What do you think it is?” Fyre replied, her voice tight. “Quit asking stupid questions and just suck on it.”
“Oh, right,” Vivian said, her cheeks heating up as she blushed. She’d been so fascinated by the dragon, she’d forgotten she was naked in bed with the creature. On her hands and knees, she leaned in, pressing her face against that slick slit and wrapping her lips around the dragon’s giant clit. It nearly filled her moth, hot and throbbing against her tongue, the taste sweet. She sucked, flicking her tongue against it, and was gratified to hear Fyre moan.
“That’s it, just like that,” the dragon gasped. “Now, fuck me. Use your hand.”
Vivian lifted her head, licking the sweetness from her lips as she slid her fingers into the dragon’s slit, finding her tight tunnel and pushing inside. Walls of muscle gripped her hand, squeezing and contracting, trying to pull her deeper. She shoved, sinking her arm into the dragon’s vagina. Beneath her, Fyre shuddered with pleasure.
This is so fucking hot, she thought, bending her head and devouring Fyre’s clit once more.
“Oh, yes! Fuck yes!” Fyre exclaimed. “You wicked girl. Let’s see how you like it.”
Before Vivian could decide what the dragon meant by that, she felt something slick and solid slide between her thighs and rub against her hot nether lips. She glanced back as Fyre pressed her scaled nose against Vivian’s ass, her long, muscular tongue lapping at Vivian’s pussy.
Moaning low in her throat, Vivian spread her legs wider and tried to concentrate on what she was doing, her tongue teasing that giant bundle of nerves and licking up the sweet, slippery fluid that flowed like nectar. Fyre licked harder, plunging between her lips and assaulting her clit until she was shaking, her hips jerking as she flew toward the precipice of orgasm.
Suddenly, the dragon pulled back, leaving her pussy cold and aching. Vivian raised her head to see what was going on, just as that wicked forked tongue thrust between her lips and deep into her tight tunnel. Vivian cried out, her body stretched and filled by that solid rod of muscle, as big as any cock she’d known. But unlike a cock, hammering blindly into her, Fyre’s tongue writhed and curled and sought out the places that made her shudder and twitch and scream as the orgasm thundered through her.
“Who is making all the noise out here?” asked a familiar voice, and Vivian raised her head, pulling her hand out of the dragon’s passage as Queen Mariana strode out of the bathroom on a pair of slender legs that flashed and shimmered, covered in blue, green, and gold scales up to her narrow waist. Even out of the water, her bare breasts defied gravity. “You!” the mermaid said, pointing at the dragon. “What are you doing with my human, you inflated lizard?”
Fyre withdrew her tongue from Vivian’s pussy, making her shudder and moan.
“Your human?” the dragon said, black smoke curling up from her nostrils. “This one is mine! Go back to your pond before I fry you to a crisp and serve you with chips!” She spat a burst of flame into the room, leaving soot-marks on the ceiling.
“You just try it,” the Queen said. “I’ll have your scaly hide for boots!”
“Ladies, please!” Vivian said, before things could get ugly. “This is my fantasy and I’ll have no more fighting.”
“Fine,” the mermaid said, crossing her arms over her breasts, “then tell this overgrown reptile to get lost.”
“Better yet,” said Fyre, “tell that screeching catfish to take a swim!”
Vivian looked back and forth between the two, utterly torn. This wasn’t part of her fantasy. She shouldn’t have to choose.
“Well?” Queen Mariana demanded. “Which one of us do you want to stay?”
“Both of you?” Vivian said in a small voice.
The dragon cocked her head to look down at Vivian. “Are you asking, or telling?”
“Um...telling. I want both of you.”
Queen Mariana let her lips quirk into a small smile. “Good choice, human. I had a feeling you’d be fun to play with. Now, get away from that overweight alligator’s flabby snatch and come see what royal twat tastes like.”
“Royal!” Fyre roared with laughter, rattling the windows in their casings. “You’re about as royal as the dump I took last week. Your father was an eel and your mother whored herself down on the docks to any sailor with a quarter.”
The mermaid gasped, her lovely face lined with sorrow at the dragon’s cruel words, and she turned away, covering her face with her hands.
“Now look what you did,” Vivian said, climbing off the bed and rushing to Queen Mariana’s side. She put her arm around the mermaid’s shaking shoulders. “Don’t cry, Your Highness. I don’t care what she says, you are a Queen to me.”
Queen Mariana quickly dried her tears, leaving her just as lovely as before.
“That’s kind of you to say, but it would be even more convincing if you were on your knees.”
“Yes, my Queen,” Vivian said, sinking down in front of the mermaid, her scale-covered pussy right in front of Vivian’s face. She had a faint odor of fish and brine, like the sea, but not unpleasant. Leaning forward, Vivian used her fingers to part the scaly folds and reveal the soft, pink pearl within.
“Oh, my! Oh, yes!” Queen Mariana gasped as Vivian devoured her pussy, licking and sucking on her salty clit until it was hard and throbbing against her tongue. “Stop, stop!” the mermaid said suddenly, her hand pushing against Vivian’s shoulder. “My knees feel like they’re about to buckle. I need to lie down.”
She staggered and Vivian jumped up, leading her over to the bed, but instead of lying upon it, she pushed Vivian down onto her back and climbed on top of her, her knees next to Vivian’s shoulders and her gaping pussy inches above her face. Vivian gasped as the mermaid slid her hand between Vivian’s thighs, coaxing her legs apart. Knees bent and heels dug into the mattress, Vivian fought the urge to rock her hips as Queen Mariana rubbed against her wet mound, nimble fingers parting her lips and a wicked tongue delving inside to tease Vivian’s aching clit.
Wrapping her arms around Queen Mariana’s slender hips, Vivian lifted her head and began to feast on the mermaid’s juicy snatch once more, their moans and slurps filling the room.
“I see you forgot about me,” Fyre said sullenly. “Maybe this will remind you.”
Vivian cried out, her body bucking as the dragon’s long tongue thrust between her legs once more, plunging deep into her womb, filling her passage with hot, hard muscle. She clenched around it, quaking with pleasure so intense it stole her breath.
Not to be outdone, apparently, Queen Mariana flicked her tongue against Vivian’s clit until she was shaking, an orgasm like a freight train barreling through her. She cried out, hips jerking as she came, wave after wave of ecstasy rolling through her until she thought she was going to pass out. She tried to twist away from the industrious tongues, to close her legs and protect her shuddering body, but the mermaid held her down, the dragon’s head between her thighs.
“Please,” Vivian gasped. “No more, please!”
But they weren’t listening, or if they heard her, they didn’t care. Queen Mariana swirled her tongue around Vivian’s clit, sucking hard on the throbbing nub, and Fyre’s tongue plunged into her quaking, clenching passage like a piston of flesh, the wicked forked tip ticking deep inside of her. Vivian squirmed beneath their relentless assault, her hands clutching at the bed as they drove her toward the edge of another thunderous orgasm.
“Oh fuck!” she shouted. “Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!” She screamed, hips bucking and toes curling as the hurricane within her made landfall. She squeezed her eyes shut and held on for dear life, riding each wild wave that crashed over her, tossing her on a sea of ecstasy.
When the storm finally subsided, Vivian lay gasping, muscles twitching as echoes of her orgasm shuddered through her. She opened her eyes, shocked to discover that she was alone. Well, almost.
“So, my dear, did you enjoy yourself?” Maximus leaned over the bed, grinning down at Vivian. She bit back a scream as she scrambled off the bed, trying to cover herself as she looked around for her clothes before remembering that she’d left them in the bathroom.
“Relax, I have no interest in your body,” Maximus said, grabbing one of the large bath towels off the dresser and tossing it to her. “I’m only interested in one thing—are you satisfied with your encounter?”
Vivian wrapped the towel around herself, her inner thighs slippery, her pussy still throbbing with the aftershocks. Was she satisfied? She’d never cum so hard in her life. She opened her mouth to answer, but quickly closed it again.
“What if I’m not?” she asked.
He gave her a crooked, leering grin. “Satisfaction is guaranteed. I’d be forced to call your companions back in here to finish the job.”
Vivian shuddered, her pussy clenching. “Yes, I’m completely satisfied,” she said. She wasn’t sure she could survive another round with the two of them.
“Great to hear, my dear,” Maximus said, clapping his hands together. “That completes our contract and transfers ownership of five percent of your soul to me.”
Vivian took a step back, one hand pressed over her heart. “Is it...is it going to hurt when you take it?”
Maximus laughed. “Oh, you sweet girl. Of course not. I’m not taking anything from you. Like I said, you can think of it as an investment. If I owned five percent of a business, I wouldn’t carve out a hunk of their office, now would I? Bricks and carpet and wiring? What use would that be?”
“Okay, but—”
“Listen, I hate to rush you,” he said, glancing at the watch on his wrist, “but I need to have this room cleaned before anyone can use it, so if you can get your things, that would be appreciated.”
“Oh, right! Sorry,” Vivian said, hurrying into the bathroom. “I’m just wondering how you can run a business if you don’t actually get anything for your services.” She lifted her bra and panties out of a puddle, her nose wrinkling at the thought of putting them back on.
“My employees are fairly compensated and well-treated,” Maximus said from the doorway. “You didn’t hear either of them complaining, did you?”
“Well, no...”
“Then you let me worry about my bottom line,” Maximus said with a charming smile. He looked different, somehow, but Vivian couldn’t say how. She pulled on her jeans and shirt, which were damp, but wearable, wrung the water out of her underwear, and stuffed them into her purse. Slipping into her shoes, she headed for the door.
“Thanks, this was...unbelievable,” she said as she passed Maximus.
“Did it help?” he asked. “Are you secure in your sexuality now?”
She paused and glanced back. “I think so. Thank you.”
“Well, if you ever need to do more research, you know where to find me. It might be a good idea to take a ride on a male dragon before you make up your mind. More data points and all that.” He looked over the top of his spectacles and winked at her, and she realized what was different. He had the golden eyes of a goat.
“Um...thanks, but I don’t think so,” she said, and she left, her slick pussy reminding her with every step that her fantasy had been anything but a fantasy. Before she even made it to her car, she found herself wondering what a dragon cock would look like, feel like, taste like, how big would it be, filling and stretching her pussy, and how would it feel to have a dragon cum inside of her? As she started her car, she sighed, acknowledging that Maximus had won this round. She would most definitely be back.
It took Vivian three tries to cross the street and two more to make it up the front walk and onto the porch of the old, Victorian-style house. Her hand trembling, she reached out and rang the bell, and very nearly lost her nerve completely. She turned to flee just as the door opened. A tall, dapper gentleman wearing a gray suit with a blue and silver waistcoat stepped out and caught her by the wrist. His hand was warm against her skin, almost hot, his grip like iron. Heart pounding, Vivian looked up at him.
He was handsome, his features refined and sculpted, his eyes a startling shade of dark blue, but he was almost too perfect, like he couldn’t possibly be real. He wore small, square spectacles and a high, midnight blue top hat, a glossy black feather tucked into the silver silk band and held in place by a sapphire studded hat pin.
“Good afternoon, my dear,” he said, his voice deep and cultured, but with a hint of an accent that made him sound exotic and lyrical. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t begin to guess where he might be from. “What brings you to my den of desire?”
Vivian blushed, her whole body burning as she swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.
“I want—I mean, my friend told me about this place,” she said. “It is true? That I can have whatever I want?”
“It is true,” he said, his grip on her wrist melting into a soft caress as he released her. “Please, come inside and we can discuss what I can offer you.”
Vivian hesitated. Her legs felt numb. She shouldn’t be doing this. She knew this was a bad idea, but the things Gloria had told her...She couldn’t walk away. Instead, she followed the man into the house.
He led her down a hall into a small sitting room and gestured to an antique-looking high-backed chair with floral upholstery and carved, claw feet.
“May I offer you something to drink, my dear? Water, or tea perhaps? Maybe something a bit stronger?” He smiled, his teeth even and very white against his brown skin.
“No, thank you,” she replied, sinking down on the edge of the seat, her hands gripping her knees.
“Very well. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Maximus, the proprietor of this establishment. I am the one who can bring your most secret and intimate of fantasies to life, who can grant you the darkest desires of your heart. Now, what shall we call you? And it doesn’t have to be your real name, if that will make you more comfortable.”
“Oh, um...Call me Vivian, I guess,” she said. Gloria had said they were very discreet, and besides, they’d see her name on her credit card when it came time to pay. Which reminded her… “Do you accept credit?”
“Of a sort,” Maximus said with a crooked grin. “Let’s not worry about that right now. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here. You’re a very pretty woman; surely you have no trouble getting all the sex you want.”
Vivian blushed again, looking down at the carpet as he sank gracefully into the chair across from her. “I have had a few boyfriends,” she confessed, “and I have...you know...with a couple of them.”
“My dear Vivian, I certainly do know, but if you can’t even say the words, then this is probably not the right place for you,” Maximus said, making like he was going to stand up again.
“We fucked,” Vivian blurted out. She breathed a sigh of relief as he relaxed back into the chair and motioned for her to continue. “Anyway, yes, I’ve had sex with guys, but never...a woman. I think I want to—I may be bisexual—but I’m not sure, and I don’t want to just use some random woman in order to find out.”
“I sympathize, my dear,” Maximus said, “but I run a specialty brothel, and to be frank, there’s nothing special about your request. I can refer you to several quality establishments that can help you discover the truth about your sexuality—”
“There’s more,” Vivian said. “You see, the reason I think I might be bi is because I have this fantasy about having sex with a mermaid. And a dragon.”
“Ohhh, now we’re talking,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Tell me all about them, every last detail.”
Vivian talked for almost half an hour, describing the creatures and what she wanted them to do to her. She was out of breath and very horny by the time she finished. Maximus sat forward in his chair and adjusted his hat.
“All right, I think we can work with that. Now, let’s talk payment.”
Vivian pulled her purse up into her lap and reached for her wallet.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, pulling off his hat and releasing a wild tangle of copper curls. He reached inside it and pulled out a rolled up sheet of paper. “This is our standard contract, guaranteeing your complete satisfaction in exchange for a small portion of your soul. Now, normally, I only charge one or two percent for a fantasy, but yours is quite elaborate, so I’m going to have to ask for five percent.” He unrolled the paper and spread it on the small table between them, the surface covered in fine print that was nearly impossible to read.
“Hang on, did you say you want my soul?”
“That’s right. Just a tiny piece of it, though.”
“This is insane,” Vivian said, leaning forward and squinting at the minuscule writing. “What do you want my soul for?”
“It’s an investment, nothing more,” Maximus said with a disarming smile. “If I had your whole soul, I might be able to do something, but a fraction like that is practically worthless.”
“Then why do you want it?”
Maximus shrugged his elegant shoulders. “Why not? It adds to the allure and mystery of my business. Swiping your Mastercard is not nearly as sexy as selling your soul.”
Vivian licked dry lips. “Where do I sign?”
“Right here.” Maximus pulled the jeweled hatpin out of the silk band and pointed to a blank space at the bottom of the contract. She reached out to pick up the pen lying on the table and with a flick of his wrist, Maximus stabbed the tip of the hatpin into her finger.
“Ouch!” she said, jerking back, but it was too late. A large, dark drop of blood dripped onto the paper, hissing and smoking as it crawled across the page, scrawling her name in an elegant script.
“Thank you very much, my dear,” Maximus said, returning the pin to his hat and the hat to his head. He rolled up the contract and tucked it inside his jacket, then reached out for her hand as he rose to his feet. “Now, if you’ll follow me, your erotic fantasy is about to begin.”
In a daze, Vivian followed him up a flight of winding stairs to the second floor. She couldn’t stop thinking about her blood on the contract, the way her name had written itself on the paper. If that was a trick, it was a damn good one, but an uneasy weight in the pit of her stomach had her struggling desperately to explain how such a thing could be possible. Was she drugged and hallucinating? She had refused the drink he’d offered. Perhaps she was hypnotized and imagining things. She didn’t remember being put into a trance, but he might have instructed her not to remember. That seemed the most likely explanation, and she clung to it for the sake of her sanity.
“This is our master suite,” Maximus said, stopping outside an ordinary looking bedroom door. “Within, you will find everything that you desire. Just remember, this is your fantasy, and nothing can harm you. When you are ready, enter and enjoy.” He gave her a small, knowing smile and stepped back from the door.
As nervous as she was, Vivian could not deny her own curiosity. As far as showmanship went, this place was a ten, and when she reached out and opened the door, she almost believed there would be a mermaid and a dragon waiting on the other side.
She stepped into the room, at once overwhelmed by the stately beauty of the antique bed and the fine furnishings, and at the same time, disappointed to find it empty. She felt silly for hoping for the impossible and flopped down on the huge bed with a gusty sigh.
Splash!
Vivian sat bolt upright, her heart pounding, as something made a loud splashing sound in the adjoining bathroom.
“Hello?” she called. “Is someone there?”
A feminine voice giggled and answered, “Why don’t you come and see for yourself?”
Vivian closed her eyes and took a bracing breath. “It’s not real,” she whispered, then rose from the bed and marched into the bathroom, determined to see through the illusion and not be fooled by Maximus’ cheap tricks. That determination lasted all of three seconds once she stepped through the doorway and feasted her eyes upon the dusky mermaid lounging in the huge, claw-footed bathtub.
Hair as black as night spilled over bare, golden-brown shoulders, her wet skin gleaming as she draped her arms gracefully over the rim of the bath, the water lapping against her full breasts as her tail swished back and forth. From the waist up, she was the most beautiful woman, and from the hips down, she was a sleek, iridescent fish, her scales and fins shimmering with blue and green and gold.
“Hello there, human female,” the mermaid said, her dark eyes moving down Vivian’s body. “I am Mariana, Queen of the Depths. And who might you be?”
“V-Vivian,” she whispered.
Queen Mariana regarded her for a moment. “Well, Vivian?” she asked finally. “Are you going to attend me or not? I need to be bathed.”
“Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” Vivian said, snapping out of her daze and deciding to play along. This was much more creative than what she had described to Maximus. Trembling inside, she approached the tub, devouring every inch of supple flesh and gauzy fin. Grasping the soap, she leaned over the tub, dipped her hands into the warm water, and began to wash the mermaid’s arm.
Splash!
Vivian gasped as a flick of that powerful tail drenched her from head to toe. Shocked, she stood dripping on the tile floor, not sure what to do.
“I’m sorry, did I get you wet?” the Queen asked. “Better take those off so they can dry.”
Suddenly self-conscious, Vivian turned her back to the tub and began to remove her clothes. She stripped down to her bra and panties, then turned back, fighting the urge to cover herself with her hands. She knew she was in shape and not bad to look at, but compared to the mermaid, she was just a dowdy old frump with too much belly and not enough boobs.
“Oh, my, what lovely legs you have,” Queen Mariana said, leaning on the edge of the tub to get a closer look.
“Really?” Vivian said, looking down. Her thighs were too thick, her knees knobby, and she had faded scars on one shin from a bicycle accident in college.
“Oh, yes. Come here so I may touch them.”
Vivian stepped closer as the mermaid reached out, trailing slender fingers over Vivian’s skin, sending a flash of hot desire through Vivian’s body. She wanted to feel those elegant hands all over her, and she shivered as soft fingertips slid up her inner thigh and brushed against the silky material of her panties.
“Why, these are wet, too,” Queen Mariana said, hooking her fingers into the lace waistband and pulling Vivian’s panties down. “You are dripping wet and shivering, my dear. Come into the tub with me and warm up.”
Vivian needed no second invitation. Sitting on the edge, she swung her legs over, intending to sit down by the mermaid’s tail, where there was plenty of room in the over-sized tub, but Queen Mariana had other ideas. Grabbing Vivian by the hips, she pulled her into the water, on top of herself, until Vivian was kneeling astride that supple fish tail, the smooth, slippery scales pressed against her inner thighs.
“We don’t want this to get wet, either,” the Queen said, unfastening Vivian’s bra and sliding it off her shoulders. Vivian watched it sail through the air and land on the tiled floor. “That’s much better, isn’t it? Such nice tits should not be covered and restrained. They should be worshiped and enjoyed.” Vivian gasped as warm, soft hands cupped her breasts, kneading the firm flesh and teasing her nipples into hard points.
Suddenly, the Queen stopped. “What’s wrong? Don’t you think my tits are nice enough to be worshiped, too?”
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Vivian said, pressing her hands to the wet, warm skin. Hesitantly at first, she caressed the firm mounds, but as Queen Mariana moaned and arched her body into Vivian’s hands, her confidence increased. She teased the mermaid’s dark nipples, rolling the pebbled flesh between her finger and thumb. “Please, my Queen,” she asked breathlessly, “may I kiss you?”
In answer, Queen Mariana raised her head and captured Vivian’s lips in a hungry kiss. Vivian’s head spun, her body burning with desire. It was everything she had imagined, and more, the sensation of being touched by a female hand both foreign and exciting, as well as familiar and comforting.
Tongues tangling, Vivian closed her eyes, moaning as that soft hand left her breast, sliding down wet skin to tug and tease Vivian’s neatly trimmed curls. She gasped as the mermaid stroked her pussy, rubbing against her sensitive mound before slipping two fingers between her swollen lips and tracing a slow circle around her throbbing clit.
Panting, Vivian rocked her hips, the water sloshing all around them and splashing out onto the floor as she ground against Queen Mariana’s hand. Pulling back, the mermaid laughed.
“Perhaps we should move this someplace dryer, before we flood the entire house.”
“Can you do that?” Vivian asked, breathless as she continued to stroke the Queen’s perfect breasts. “Leave the water, I mean?”
“Of course,” she replied. “When dry, my fins become legs, although not nearly as shapely as yours.” Beneath the water, she caressed one of Vivian’s thighs, her hand creeping around to grip and knead her firm ass.
“Mmm, I should probably find some towels, then,” Vivian moaned, reluctant to leave the tub.
“I saw some in the bedroom, on the dresser.”
Still, Vivian didn’t move. The water was warm and Queen Mariana’s skin was so soft. After a moment, the mermaid leaned close and whispered in Vivian’s ear.
“Once I have legs, I’ll let you taste my pussy.”
Vivian shot out of the water and scrambled over the edge of the tub so fast her wet feet nearly went sliding out from under her. The mermaid laughed, a lilting, musical sound, as Vivian ran stark-naked from the room, the chill air raising goosebumps along her bare body. She rushed toward the dresser, where a tall stack of fluffy towels waited, but stopped dead as something long and dark and sinuous slithered across the floor in front of her.
Heart pounding, she turned toward the bed, and came face to face with a huge, red-brown dragon draped across the mattress. Orange eyes flickering like live coals stared back at her from a deep-set skull covered in scales and spikes and twisting horns. The beast had a long neck and tail, and a muscular body in between, with a pair of large, leathery wings folded against its back.
“There you are,” the dragon said, small curls of smoke rising up from its nostrils. “You know, it’s not wise to keep a dragon waiting. It doesn’t take long to go from horny to hungry.” A long black tongue slid out of the dragon’s mouth, the forked tip flicking in the air.
“I-I’m sorry,” Vivian stammered. “I didn’t know you were waiting. I was with Queen Mariana—”
The dragon snorted, singeing the bedspread as flames erupted from its nostrils. “That overgrown trout is no queen! Where is she? I’ll turn her into sushi.” It started to get up, the bed frame creaking and groaning beneath its weight.
“I think she left already,” Vivian said, stepping away from the bathroom door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it,” the dragon said sulkily as it lay back down. “I am Fyre, Terror of the Skies, Devourer of Souls, the flame that burns forever.”
Behind her, in the bathroom, Vivian thought she heard a soft splash and what sounded like someone muttering, “Oh, brother,” but she couldn’t be sure.
“I’m very humbled to meet you,” she said. “Forgive me, but are you a male dragon, or a female?”
“Can’t you tell?” Fyre said with another snort. “Of course you can’t. Humans are such ignorant, blind little creatures. I am female, as you could plainly tell if you bothered to look.” She rolled onto her side and raised her hind leg, exposing her scaled underbelly. Down between her legs, at the base of her tail, there was a slight bulge, the glossy scales creased and dimpled, forming a slit in her armored hide.
“Oh, of course,” Vivian said. “I see now. How silly of me.”
“Good, now what that’s cleared up, don’t just stand there,” Fyre said. “Come here.”
Cautiously, Vivian moved closer, stepping over the end of the snake-like tail. She stopped at the corner of the bed. “What would you like me to do?”
With a flick of her powerful tail, Fyre sent Vivian sprawling on her face upon the bed.
“I would like you to to do as I say the first time,” the dragon said testily. “I said come here.”
Wary of the tail, Vivian crawled onto the bed beside the dragon.
“Now, rub your hand along my cloaca.”
Vivian reached out, her fingers hovering over the slit in the dragon’s scales. “Here?”
“Yes, there. Rub hard. Ohhh, just like that.”
The scales were smooth and warm and softer than Vivian had imagined, more like flexible plastic, giving as she pressed against the dragon’s slit. Thick, clear fluid welled up, slicking her fingers, as the slight bulge began to swell. Vivian gasped, pulling her hand back, as the scales gaped open, revealing slick, pink flesh within. It looked a lot like a human pussy, only about three times bigger.
“What is this?” Vivian asked, hesitantly rubbing a large nub of dark flesh that hardened at her touch.
“What do you think it is?” Fyre replied, her voice tight. “Quit asking stupid questions and just suck on it.”
“Oh, right,” Vivian said, her cheeks heating up as she blushed. She’d been so fascinated by the dragon, she’d forgotten she was naked in bed with the creature. On her hands and knees, she leaned in, pressing her face against that slick slit and wrapping her lips around the dragon’s giant clit. It nearly filled her moth, hot and throbbing against her tongue, the taste sweet. She sucked, flicking her tongue against it, and was gratified to hear Fyre moan.
“That’s it, just like that,” the dragon gasped. “Now, fuck me. Use your hand.”
Vivian lifted her head, licking the sweetness from her lips as she slid her fingers into the dragon’s slit, finding her tight tunnel and pushing inside. Walls of muscle gripped her hand, squeezing and contracting, trying to pull her deeper. She shoved, sinking her arm into the dragon’s vagina. Beneath her, Fyre shuddered with pleasure.
This is so fucking hot, she thought, bending her head and devouring Fyre’s clit once more.
“Oh, yes! Fuck yes!” Fyre exclaimed. “You wicked girl. Let’s see how you like it.”
Before Vivian could decide what the dragon meant by that, she felt something slick and solid slide between her thighs and rub against her hot nether lips. She glanced back as Fyre pressed her scaled nose against Vivian’s ass, her long, muscular tongue lapping at Vivian’s pussy.
Moaning low in her throat, Vivian spread her legs wider and tried to concentrate on what she was doing, her tongue teasing that giant bundle of nerves and licking up the sweet, slippery fluid that flowed like nectar. Fyre licked harder, plunging between her lips and assaulting her clit until she was shaking, her hips jerking as she flew toward the precipice of orgasm.
Suddenly, the dragon pulled back, leaving her pussy cold and aching. Vivian raised her head to see what was going on, just as that wicked forked tongue thrust between her lips and deep into her tight tunnel. Vivian cried out, her body stretched and filled by that solid rod of muscle, as big as any cock she’d known. But unlike a cock, hammering blindly into her, Fyre’s tongue writhed and curled and sought out the places that made her shudder and twitch and scream as the orgasm thundered through her.
“Who is making all the noise out here?” asked a familiar voice, and Vivian raised her head, pulling her hand out of the dragon’s passage as Queen Mariana strode out of the bathroom on a pair of slender legs that flashed and shimmered, covered in blue, green, and gold scales up to her narrow waist. Even out of the water, her bare breasts defied gravity. “You!” the mermaid said, pointing at the dragon. “What are you doing with my human, you inflated lizard?”
Fyre withdrew her tongue from Vivian’s pussy, making her shudder and moan.
“Your human?” the dragon said, black smoke curling up from her nostrils. “This one is mine! Go back to your pond before I fry you to a crisp and serve you with chips!” She spat a burst of flame into the room, leaving soot-marks on the ceiling.
“You just try it,” the Queen said. “I’ll have your scaly hide for boots!”
“Ladies, please!” Vivian said, before things could get ugly. “This is my fantasy and I’ll have no more fighting.”
“Fine,” the mermaid said, crossing her arms over her breasts, “then tell this overgrown reptile to get lost.”
“Better yet,” said Fyre, “tell that screeching catfish to take a swim!”
Vivian looked back and forth between the two, utterly torn. This wasn’t part of her fantasy. She shouldn’t have to choose.
“Well?” Queen Mariana demanded. “Which one of us do you want to stay?”
“Both of you?” Vivian said in a small voice.
The dragon cocked her head to look down at Vivian. “Are you asking, or telling?”
“Um...telling. I want both of you.”
Queen Mariana let her lips quirk into a small smile. “Good choice, human. I had a feeling you’d be fun to play with. Now, get away from that overweight alligator’s flabby snatch and come see what royal twat tastes like.”
“Royal!” Fyre roared with laughter, rattling the windows in their casings. “You’re about as royal as the dump I took last week. Your father was an eel and your mother whored herself down on the docks to any sailor with a quarter.”
The mermaid gasped, her lovely face lined with sorrow at the dragon’s cruel words, and she turned away, covering her face with her hands.
“Now look what you did,” Vivian said, climbing off the bed and rushing to Queen Mariana’s side. She put her arm around the mermaid’s shaking shoulders. “Don’t cry, Your Highness. I don’t care what she says, you are a Queen to me.”
Queen Mariana quickly dried her tears, leaving her just as lovely as before.
“That’s kind of you to say, but it would be even more convincing if you were on your knees.”
“Yes, my Queen,” Vivian said, sinking down in front of the mermaid, her scale-covered pussy right in front of Vivian’s face. She had a faint odor of fish and brine, like the sea, but not unpleasant. Leaning forward, Vivian used her fingers to part the scaly folds and reveal the soft, pink pearl within.
“Oh, my! Oh, yes!” Queen Mariana gasped as Vivian devoured her pussy, licking and sucking on her salty clit until it was hard and throbbing against her tongue. “Stop, stop!” the mermaid said suddenly, her hand pushing against Vivian’s shoulder. “My knees feel like they’re about to buckle. I need to lie down.”
She staggered and Vivian jumped up, leading her over to the bed, but instead of lying upon it, she pushed Vivian down onto her back and climbed on top of her, her knees next to Vivian’s shoulders and her gaping pussy inches above her face. Vivian gasped as the mermaid slid her hand between Vivian’s thighs, coaxing her legs apart. Knees bent and heels dug into the mattress, Vivian fought the urge to rock her hips as Queen Mariana rubbed against her wet mound, nimble fingers parting her lips and a wicked tongue delving inside to tease Vivian’s aching clit.
Wrapping her arms around Queen Mariana’s slender hips, Vivian lifted her head and began to feast on the mermaid’s juicy snatch once more, their moans and slurps filling the room.
“I see you forgot about me,” Fyre said sullenly. “Maybe this will remind you.”
Vivian cried out, her body bucking as the dragon’s long tongue thrust between her legs once more, plunging deep into her womb, filling her passage with hot, hard muscle. She clenched around it, quaking with pleasure so intense it stole her breath.
Not to be outdone, apparently, Queen Mariana flicked her tongue against Vivian’s clit until she was shaking, an orgasm like a freight train barreling through her. She cried out, hips jerking as she came, wave after wave of ecstasy rolling through her until she thought she was going to pass out. She tried to twist away from the industrious tongues, to close her legs and protect her shuddering body, but the mermaid held her down, the dragon’s head between her thighs.
“Please,” Vivian gasped. “No more, please!”
But they weren’t listening, or if they heard her, they didn’t care. Queen Mariana swirled her tongue around Vivian’s clit, sucking hard on the throbbing nub, and Fyre’s tongue plunged into her quaking, clenching passage like a piston of flesh, the wicked forked tip ticking deep inside of her. Vivian squirmed beneath their relentless assault, her hands clutching at the bed as they drove her toward the edge of another thunderous orgasm.
“Oh fuck!” she shouted. “Ohfuckohfuckohfuck!” She screamed, hips bucking and toes curling as the hurricane within her made landfall. She squeezed her eyes shut and held on for dear life, riding each wild wave that crashed over her, tossing her on a sea of ecstasy.
When the storm finally subsided, Vivian lay gasping, muscles twitching as echoes of her orgasm shuddered through her. She opened her eyes, shocked to discover that she was alone. Well, almost.
“So, my dear, did you enjoy yourself?” Maximus leaned over the bed, grinning down at Vivian. She bit back a scream as she scrambled off the bed, trying to cover herself as she looked around for her clothes before remembering that she’d left them in the bathroom.
“Relax, I have no interest in your body,” Maximus said, grabbing one of the large bath towels off the dresser and tossing it to her. “I’m only interested in one thing—are you satisfied with your encounter?”
Vivian wrapped the towel around herself, her inner thighs slippery, her pussy still throbbing with the aftershocks. Was she satisfied? She’d never cum so hard in her life. She opened her mouth to answer, but quickly closed it again.
“What if I’m not?” she asked.
He gave her a crooked, leering grin. “Satisfaction is guaranteed. I’d be forced to call your companions back in here to finish the job.”
Vivian shuddered, her pussy clenching. “Yes, I’m completely satisfied,” she said. She wasn’t sure she could survive another round with the two of them.
“Great to hear, my dear,” Maximus said, clapping his hands together. “That completes our contract and transfers ownership of five percent of your soul to me.”
Vivian took a step back, one hand pressed over her heart. “Is it...is it going to hurt when you take it?”
Maximus laughed. “Oh, you sweet girl. Of course not. I’m not taking anything from you. Like I said, you can think of it as an investment. If I owned five percent of a business, I wouldn’t carve out a hunk of their office, now would I? Bricks and carpet and wiring? What use would that be?”
“Okay, but—”
“Listen, I hate to rush you,” he said, glancing at the watch on his wrist, “but I need to have this room cleaned before anyone can use it, so if you can get your things, that would be appreciated.”
“Oh, right! Sorry,” Vivian said, hurrying into the bathroom. “I’m just wondering how you can run a business if you don’t actually get anything for your services.” She lifted her bra and panties out of a puddle, her nose wrinkling at the thought of putting them back on.
“My employees are fairly compensated and well-treated,” Maximus said from the doorway. “You didn’t hear either of them complaining, did you?”
“Well, no...”
“Then you let me worry about my bottom line,” Maximus said with a charming smile. He looked different, somehow, but Vivian couldn’t say how. She pulled on her jeans and shirt, which were damp, but wearable, wrung the water out of her underwear, and stuffed them into her purse. Slipping into her shoes, she headed for the door.
“Thanks, this was...unbelievable,” she said as she passed Maximus.
“Did it help?” he asked. “Are you secure in your sexuality now?”
She paused and glanced back. “I think so. Thank you.”
“Well, if you ever need to do more research, you know where to find me. It might be a good idea to take a ride on a male dragon before you make up your mind. More data points and all that.” He looked over the top of his spectacles and winked at her, and she realized what was different. He had the golden eyes of a goat.
“Um...thanks, but I don’t think so,” she said, and she left, her slick pussy reminding her with every step that her fantasy had been anything but a fantasy. Before she even made it to her car, she found herself wondering what a dragon cock would look like, feel like, taste like, how big would it be, filling and stretching her pussy, and how would it feel to have a dragon cum inside of her? As she started her car, she sighed, acknowledging that Maximus had won this round. She would most definitely be back.
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Bryce seeks revenge against the girl who betrayed him, using his magical spell book to possess her body and use it to take the most ironic revenge. All characters are 18+
Sitting alone at a table in the crowded cafeteria, Bryce picked at his lunch as he covertly kept an eye on his new target. In his back pocket, his phone vibrated, alerting him to yet another incoming text. His friends were looking for him, probably wondering why he wasn’t waiting at their usual table in the commons. It had been a week since they had taken their revenge on Finn, and while they all had plenty of ideas, they had yet to agree on who should next receive the magical justice coming to them. Bryce knew who he wanted—it kept him awake at night, jerking off as he planned out exactly what he was going to do—he just didn’t know how to break the news to his friends.
“There you are!” Oliver said, dropping down onto the seat beside Bryce.
Miguel sat across the table, curling his lip as he glanced around the institution-gray room. “What are you doing in here, amigo?” he asked in his sexy Spanish accent. “It’s gorgeous outside.”
“Are you avoiding us?” Oliver asked with a laugh, flipping his purple hair back out of his eyes. When Bryce didn’t answer, his smile faded. “You are! It is because of the history project?” That was their code for talking about the spell book Bryce had found in his grandfather’s attic.
“Look, I know I said we’d decide together, but this is just something I have to do,” Bryce said, glancing past Miguel to make sure his target was still eating lunch with her friends.
“Who?” Miguel asked, starting to turn in his seat.
“Don’t look,” Bryce hissed. “It’s Alice.”
Miguel raised his eyebrows. “Your ex-girlfriend who ruined Junior year for you? The bitch who outed you to the world on social media? Hell yeah, count me in.”
“Man, you should have just told us,” Oliver said. “You know we’ve got your back. She’s totally got it coming. So, when do we strike?”
Bryce poked at his lunch. “Yeah...that’s the thing...The, uh...history project that I want to do is kind of...a solo mission.”
“What?” Oliver said, looking crestfallen.
Miguel leaned across the table. “Is this because we saw each other’s dicks? You’re not feeling weird about that, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Bryce said. He’d watched the videos of what they did to Finn more than a few times. “It’s just, this spe- history project is the perfect mix of karmic retribution and ironic justice, but it only works with one person. I’m sorry.”
Oliver and Miguel exchanged glances.
“So...could we do solo history projects, too?”
“I mean, it would only be fair,” Miguel added.
Bryce tensed. Alice was getting up from her table. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, watching her wipe her mouth on a napkin, her lipstick leaving a rosy pink smear on the thin paper. Perfect. “Wait here,” he said, grabbing his half-eaten lunch and weaving through the crowded cafeteria, following her to the garbage cans. She dropped her trash into one and turned, almost bumping into him.
“Oh! I’m sor-” she started to say, but stopped when she realized it was him. Her warm, expressive brown eyes narrowed. “What do you want, pervert?” She said it loud enough that her gang of girlfriends turned to look at Bryce. His cutting comeback died on his lips, his courage withering under their intense, judgmental stares.
“Just throwing my trash away,” he muttered, stepping around her to get to the cans. His face hot and pulse racing, he listened to them walk away, laughing and making cruel remarks. Bitches.
He looked down into the half-full trash bin, for a moment seeing nothing except bits of pizza and hamburgers and french fries. He began to panic. People would notice if he stood there too long. Where was it?
A smear of pink caught his eye and he reached in, snatching up the crumpled napkin. Dropping the remains of his lunch, he hurried back to his friends, falling onto his seat with a sigh of relief.
“Did you get it?” Miguel asked.
Bryce showed them the used napkin, then folded it up and carefully tucked it away in his pocket.
“So, I know you said this was a solo project,” Oliver said, “but you can still tell us what you have planned, right?”
Bryce grinned and the three of them leaned close.
~*~*~*~
Lying in bed, waiting for his parents to fall asleep, was the most intensely boring hour of Bryce’s life. He passed the time by renewing his fury toward Alice, reminding himself of the depth of her betrayal.
They had been going out for more than a year, which was about eight months longer than any of his previous relationships. He had his license, so they went to movies and out to dinner, and sometimes they just parked near the woods and made out, but they hadn’t yet gone all the way. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming pushy, but that night—their last date, as it would happen to be—she asked him if he had protection.
He did, and he asked if she was sure. She said she was. He asked if she had ever done it before. He still remembered the way she blushed as she shook her head. Then she asked him the same.
“You should have told her no,” he whispered into the darkness of his bedroom.
Instead of a safe lie, he had given her a truth about himself that he had never shared with anyone. He trusted her with the most secret part of himself, a part he was still trying to understand and accept. He confessed that he’d been with a girl before. And a guy. Not at the same time, of course. He might be attracted to both men and women, but he promised to be faithful only to her.
He could tell she was in shock. He offered to drive her home and she agreed that would be best. Before they reached her driveway, he knew it was over. Being rejected hurt, but deep down, he wasn’t surprised. If only that had been the end of it.
The next day at school, he was nervous about seeing her in class. Would she say anything? As it turned out, she said plenty, but not at school. Walking through the halls, it felt like everyone was staring at him, snickers and whispers flying behind his back. It was Oliver who finally showed him the video she had made, telling the entire world how her boyfriend turned out to be a sexual deviant who would fuck anything, guys and girls, and probably farm animals if he could catch them.
Bryce had wanted to die. If it wasn’t for his friends, who never wavered from his side for a moment, who knows what he might have done.
Finally, it was after midnight, the house silent. Bryce got out of bed and turned on his desk lamp, opening his spell book and taking the crumpled napkin out of his pocket. Using a marker and a feather-light touch to keep from ripping the fragile paper, he copied down the complex spell equation, sweat beading his brow as he concentrated. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he copied something wrong, but the book insinuated that it would be bad, and not just in the oops, it didn’t work sort of way.
He finished and double-checked the incomprehensible string of symbols, then opened his desk drawer and pulled out his pocket knife. He wished his friends were there, but it seemed cruel to exclude them from the spell, and then ask them to babysit his body while his soul was busy elsewhere. He felt pretty safe in his room, but there was always the remote possibility of his parents checking on him and finding him unresponsive. He could just imagine how that would freak them out.
Bryce considered waiting, but he knew he was worried about nothing. And he had let Alice get away with what she had done for far too long. His voice low, he read the quantum incantation, as Oliver had begun calling it, feeling the subatomic world begin to resonate around him, a low-level hum that pressed against his ear drums, making them itch. As he reached the final syllables, he pressed the point of his knife into the pad of his thumb, a large, dark bead of blood welling up. Bryce squeezed his thumb, holding his breath as the drop of blood fell upon the napkin, a bright red stain spreading across the thin paper.
His lamp flickered and he stood, the room spinning around him. Taking a staggering step, he fell heavily upon his bed, the room going dark.
Bryce’s eyes snapped open, the world unfocused, but even blurry, he could tell he wasn’t in his room anymore. He blinked, his vision slowly clearing, and sat up, looking around at the stuffed animals at the foot of the bed, the flowered comforter spread over him, the posters of kpop bands on the walls. He reached down to push the comforter aside and froze, the hand before him slender and delicate, the nails painted glittery pink. He wiggled his fingers, watching that feminine hand respond.
“Holy shit, I did it,” he whispered, the hushed voice softer, higher than his own. He climbed out of bed and rushed over to the closet door, standing before the floor-length mirror, his heart racing. No, not his heart, her heart. He stared out of Alice’s brown eyes, reaching up to run his fingers back through her shoulder-length blonde hair. He touched the thin straps of her silky nightgown, shifting his weight to feel the material slide against her skin. This was amazing.
Bryce pulled the front of the nightgown down, exposing Alice’s bare breasts, her nipples peaking in the chill air, and he smirked as he cupped one firm mound, kneading the solid flesh.
What the fuck is going on?
Bryce jumped and whirled around, her hair falling across his eyes. He pushed it out of his face and scanned the room, but it was dark, quiet, and empty.
I must be dreaming. It had a hollow, distant quality, but Bryce could still recognize Alice’s voice, echoing like an errant thought in his head. Am I sleepwalking? I’ve never sleepwalked before.
The book hadn’t said anything about her being aware while he was doing this. He briefly considered aborting his mission and just lying back down until the spell wore off, but she didn’t seem aware of him, and she didn’t seem to be able to stop him. She was just a spectator, along for the ride. He smirked again and headed for the kitchen.
This is so weird, Alice said as he walked down the hall. He had only been in her house a few times, but he remembered the layout pretty well. He stepped into the kitchen, the stone tile floor cold against her bare feet, and opened the fridge. Oh, God, am I sleep-eating? Is this why I gained five pounds this month?
Stifling a chuckle, Bryce searched the shelves and drawers, pulling out a foot-long sausage over an inch in diameter and an ear of fresh corn that was almost two inches at its widest point.
Eww, put that back, Alice said. If you have to eat something, grab a yogurt, you fatass.
Bryce headed back to her room, absently wondering if she always talked to herself like that. Low self-esteem might explain a lot. Of course, it didn’t excuse anything. He closed her door and locked it, then sat down at her laptop. She had once told him that her password was the name of her first dog, so he confidently typed ‘buttercup’ into the entry field and got to work setting up her webcam to record.
Now what am I doing? she asked. Is this going to be one of those food-porn videos of me eating gross stuff?
He was tempted to tell her that she was getting warmer, but he kept his mouth shut. He was looking forward to the moment when she figured it out for herself and he didn’t want to spoil it. Once the webcam was up and recording, he looked straight at it and began to speak. It was surreal hearing his words in her voice, but he didn’t let that distract him from what he wanted to say.
“Hello, my name is Alice Newman and I am a Senior at Riverbend High School,” he said.
What am I doing? Stop that! Alice said as Bryce proceeded to dox her, stating her birth date and home address. He wanted to give out her social security number, but he didn’t know it and he didn’t feel like looking for her card. That wasn’t really the point of this, just an added benefit.
“About a year ago, I posted a video about my ex-boyfriend, saying terrible things about him because I was confused and jealous.”
No, I wasn’t. What the hell is this?
“I was wrong to say those things, because I really hurt someone that I cared about, and this video is my penance. I know I can’t take back the things I said, but I hope this proves how sorry I truly am.”
But I’m not sorry! That perv got what he deserved!
Any second thoughts or doubts Bryce might have had evaporated like rain in the desert. He slid the chair back from the camera, waiting for the auto-focus to catch up, and then he eased the strap of her nightie down off one shoulder.
“The truth is,” Bryce said as he did the same to the other strap, “my boyfriend wasn’t the pervert. I am. I’m a naughty girl who likes showing off her tits.”
Don’t you fucking dare! Alice screamed. Bryce just smiled at the camera and slid the silky nightgown down over her creamy breasts, her dark nipples hard. He teased the pebbled flesh, a soft moan escaping her lips. Wake up, wake up! Wake the fuck up! She sounded absolutely panicked.
“Do you like my titties?” Bryce asked the camera. “I know they’re a little small, but the boys never seem to mind.” He slowly stood up, letting the nightgown slink down her body and fall to the floor, revealing her pink cotton panties, the crotch already dark with moisture. “Oh, dear, I’m such a bad girl. I’ve gone and made my panties all damp.”
Bryce was really getting into it, her skin hot, her heart racing as he slid her hand down the front of her underwear, feeling her tight, wet curls, the slick, swollen flesh of her pussy lips. He slipped a finger into her wet heat and rubbed against her clit, the sensation making her knees wobble.
He pulled his hand free, holding his slick, shiny finger out for the camera, then he slowly brought it up to his lips, giving the camera a wicked smile before licking up her juices.
“If anyone wants a taste, I’ll spread any time,” Bryce said, shoving her panties down. “Oops, looks like I’m not a natural blonde!” He played with her dark, neatly trimmed bush for a minute, then sank back down into the chair. He adjusted the camera to point down at her lap, and then he leaned back in the chair and put her feet up on her desk, her legs spread wide. The camera had great resolution, her pink flesh glistening as her clit swelled.
Inside his head, Alice made wounded-animal noises, utterly humiliated. But Bryce wasn’t finished yet. He picked up the sausage that he’d found in the fridge and reached down between her legs, trailing the rounded tip down her slick crease.
Don’t, please, Alice begged. I’m a virgin!
Bryce looked into the camera. “I tell people that I’m a virgin, but I’m really a dirty whore who loves to have her pussy stuffed. I’ll fuck anything, as long as it fits.” He pressed the sausage between her lips, finding her hole and forcing it in. He felt her hymen tear, a slight flash of pain and a lingering discomfort as her tight tunnel stretched around the solid length of meat. He imagined this wasn’t very sanitary, but honestly, he didn’t care.
“Oh, that feels so good,” he moaned in her voice, one hand kneading her breast as the other thrust the sausage into her hot box again and again, as deep as it would go. He felt the pleasure building within her, a slow simmering that made him ache for more. He wanted it harder, faster...and bigger.
Bryce pulled out the sausage and set it aside, her pussy clenching in anticipation as he picked up the ear of corn, already husked and washed. He slid it along her slit, the bumpy kernels rubbing against her clit and making him pant and moan.
“Oh, yeah,” he gasped, placing the tapered tip against her opening. “I like ‘em big and hard. Oh, fuck yes!” He cried out in pleasure as he pushed on the ear of corn, sliding it into her. It was so tight, he had to twist it from side to side, coating the surface of the corn with her hot, slick juices as he worked it deep. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” he exclaimed, her muscles clenching as waves of orgasm shuddered through her, leaving Bryce breathless and light-headed.
No more, Alice sobbed, pleading.
Bryce reached over and picked up the sausage again, still warm and slick.
“This naughty girl is never satisfied by just one,” he said. Holding the corn in place with one hand, he reached between her legs, leaning further back as he pressed the tip of the sausage against her puckered asshole. “Oh, yeah, fuck me in the ass! I like it in my ass!”
He pushed the sausage into her, deeper and deeper, until only a few inches of that foot-long wiener protruded from her asshole. Feet still braced against the edge of the desk, he began to fuck her pussy hard with the ear of corn, the wet, sucking sounds loud enough to be picked up by the microphone and echoed through the laptop speakers. He let go of the sausage with her other hand and dug her fingers into her wet mound, rubbing hard against her clit.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” he cried, her muscles tensing as the throbbing pleasure neared a crescendo. “I’m cumming!” He pounded her quivering pussy until he thought she was going to pass out, the sausage sliding out of her gaping asshole as her body bucked and shuddered. Finally, trembling and exhausted, he had to call it quits. His time owning her body was almost up, and he still had work to do.
Bryce shut off the recording and loaded up her editing software, snipping the video here and there, replaying her orgasms in slow-motion, zooming in as the ear of corn made its first deep penetration, and adding a quick intro.
“Perfect,” he murmured, opening a browser window and logging into her video-sharing account. This video went against all of the site’s rules and would be flagged and reported, it would be taken down and her account suspended, but not before plenty of people had a chance to download it and spread it around to other, less scrupulous sites. Like they tried to warn kids these days, anything put online stays there forever.
Please, don’t do this, Alice said in the back of his head. Wake up before you ruin my life.
“My dear Alice, haven’t you realized by now, ruining your life is the whole point,” he said, not caring if she realized what was happening. Once the spell faded, she wouldn’t remember. “Why should anyone give a shit about your feelings when you have no regard for the feelings of others? You brought this on yourself.”
Oh, my God, I’m talking to myself! Do I have multiple personalities? Is that what this is?
Bryce rolled his eyes and hit upload, watching the little bar fill until it read 100%. He clicked on her stats page and watched the hit counter. It stayed at 0 for all of thirty seconds, and within a minute, it was into the thousands.
“And there we are,” Bryce said, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “Now the whole world knows what a dirty little slut you are. How does it feel, Alice?” He could hear her sobbing in the back of his mind. He could also feel his hold on her slipping. His time was up. In one last, vindictive act, he picked up the ear of corn from where it had fallen, the kernels glistening as her juices ran down the cob, and he shoved it into her mouth, tasting her tangy flavor as the spell faded.
Bryce jerked wake, his heart pounding and his hard cock tenting the front of his pajamas. He stared up at his ceiling, his room lit by his desk lamp. Had that actually happened, or was he just dreaming? He grabbed his phone off the corner of his desk and searched for Alice’s username. Sure enough, her newest video began to play, and his hard-on strained to escape the confines of his pants. He fished it out and jerked off, cumming not once, but twice before the video finished playing.
Panting, he cleaned up and turned out the light.
~*~*~*~
Monday morning, Bryce waited at Miguel’s locker, practically dancing with excitement. He hadn’t dared send them a link to the video—passing around pornography would get him expelled, or maybe even arrested, so he couldn’t wait to tell him and Oliver about the success of his history project.
Apparently, they felt the same way. The first words out of Oliver’s mouth were, “So, how did it go?” In hushed tones, he began telling them all about the spell, but his story was interrupted by a cacophony of wolf whistles and catcalls. They looked down the hall as Alice hurried past a group of guys making lewd noises and rude gestures, her face beet red and streaked with tears.
“Ohh, perfecto, mi amigo,” Miguel said, dully impressed. “So, when do I get a turn with the book?”
“Excuse me?” Bryce said, arching an eyebrow.
“He’s right,” Oliver chimed in. “You said we could do solo projects. But I’m pretty sure you said I could go next.”
“He did not—”
“Guys, not now,” Bryce said. The principal had emerged from the front office, his large, imposing frame towering over the students. Rumor was that he used to play football, that he was going to go pro, and then an injury ended that. He did walk with a slight limp, so it could have been true.
“Miss Newman,” the principal called down the hall, his deep voice seeming to rattle Bryce to the bone. She looked up, her red face going white as a sheet. “My office. Now.”
“Boy, is she gonna get it,” Oliver said under his breath.
“She already did,” Miguel said with a snicker. “Bryce gave it to her good.”
They watched as Alice slunk past them. For a moment, she glanced up and Bryce met her eyes. He smirked and she looked away. One more history project in the books. Now, how to decide who got to go next?
Sitting alone at a table in the crowded cafeteria, Bryce picked at his lunch as he covertly kept an eye on his new target. In his back pocket, his phone vibrated, alerting him to yet another incoming text. His friends were looking for him, probably wondering why he wasn’t waiting at their usual table in the commons. It had been a week since they had taken their revenge on Finn, and while they all had plenty of ideas, they had yet to agree on who should next receive the magical justice coming to them. Bryce knew who he wanted—it kept him awake at night, jerking off as he planned out exactly what he was going to do—he just didn’t know how to break the news to his friends.
“There you are!” Oliver said, dropping down onto the seat beside Bryce.
Miguel sat across the table, curling his lip as he glanced around the institution-gray room. “What are you doing in here, amigo?” he asked in his sexy Spanish accent. “It’s gorgeous outside.”
“Are you avoiding us?” Oliver asked with a laugh, flipping his purple hair back out of his eyes. When Bryce didn’t answer, his smile faded. “You are! It is because of the history project?” That was their code for talking about the spell book Bryce had found in his grandfather’s attic.
“Look, I know I said we’d decide together, but this is just something I have to do,” Bryce said, glancing past Miguel to make sure his target was still eating lunch with her friends.
“Who?” Miguel asked, starting to turn in his seat.
“Don’t look,” Bryce hissed. “It’s Alice.”
Miguel raised his eyebrows. “Your ex-girlfriend who ruined Junior year for you? The bitch who outed you to the world on social media? Hell yeah, count me in.”
“Man, you should have just told us,” Oliver said. “You know we’ve got your back. She’s totally got it coming. So, when do we strike?”
Bryce poked at his lunch. “Yeah...that’s the thing...The, uh...history project that I want to do is kind of...a solo mission.”
“What?” Oliver said, looking crestfallen.
Miguel leaned across the table. “Is this because we saw each other’s dicks? You’re not feeling weird about that, are you?”
“No, of course not,” Bryce said. He’d watched the videos of what they did to Finn more than a few times. “It’s just, this spe- history project is the perfect mix of karmic retribution and ironic justice, but it only works with one person. I’m sorry.”
Oliver and Miguel exchanged glances.
“So...could we do solo history projects, too?”
“I mean, it would only be fair,” Miguel added.
Bryce tensed. Alice was getting up from her table. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, watching her wipe her mouth on a napkin, her lipstick leaving a rosy pink smear on the thin paper. Perfect. “Wait here,” he said, grabbing his half-eaten lunch and weaving through the crowded cafeteria, following her to the garbage cans. She dropped her trash into one and turned, almost bumping into him.
“Oh! I’m sor-” she started to say, but stopped when she realized it was him. Her warm, expressive brown eyes narrowed. “What do you want, pervert?” She said it loud enough that her gang of girlfriends turned to look at Bryce. His cutting comeback died on his lips, his courage withering under their intense, judgmental stares.
“Just throwing my trash away,” he muttered, stepping around her to get to the cans. His face hot and pulse racing, he listened to them walk away, laughing and making cruel remarks. Bitches.
He looked down into the half-full trash bin, for a moment seeing nothing except bits of pizza and hamburgers and french fries. He began to panic. People would notice if he stood there too long. Where was it?
A smear of pink caught his eye and he reached in, snatching up the crumpled napkin. Dropping the remains of his lunch, he hurried back to his friends, falling onto his seat with a sigh of relief.
“Did you get it?” Miguel asked.
Bryce showed them the used napkin, then folded it up and carefully tucked it away in his pocket.
“So, I know you said this was a solo project,” Oliver said, “but you can still tell us what you have planned, right?”
Bryce grinned and the three of them leaned close.
~*~*~*~
Lying in bed, waiting for his parents to fall asleep, was the most intensely boring hour of Bryce’s life. He passed the time by renewing his fury toward Alice, reminding himself of the depth of her betrayal.
They had been going out for more than a year, which was about eight months longer than any of his previous relationships. He had his license, so they went to movies and out to dinner, and sometimes they just parked near the woods and made out, but they hadn’t yet gone all the way. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up without seeming pushy, but that night—their last date, as it would happen to be—she asked him if he had protection.
He did, and he asked if she was sure. She said she was. He asked if she had ever done it before. He still remembered the way she blushed as she shook her head. Then she asked him the same.
“You should have told her no,” he whispered into the darkness of his bedroom.
Instead of a safe lie, he had given her a truth about himself that he had never shared with anyone. He trusted her with the most secret part of himself, a part he was still trying to understand and accept. He confessed that he’d been with a girl before. And a guy. Not at the same time, of course. He might be attracted to both men and women, but he promised to be faithful only to her.
He could tell she was in shock. He offered to drive her home and she agreed that would be best. Before they reached her driveway, he knew it was over. Being rejected hurt, but deep down, he wasn’t surprised. If only that had been the end of it.
The next day at school, he was nervous about seeing her in class. Would she say anything? As it turned out, she said plenty, but not at school. Walking through the halls, it felt like everyone was staring at him, snickers and whispers flying behind his back. It was Oliver who finally showed him the video she had made, telling the entire world how her boyfriend turned out to be a sexual deviant who would fuck anything, guys and girls, and probably farm animals if he could catch them.
Bryce had wanted to die. If it wasn’t for his friends, who never wavered from his side for a moment, who knows what he might have done.
Finally, it was after midnight, the house silent. Bryce got out of bed and turned on his desk lamp, opening his spell book and taking the crumpled napkin out of his pocket. Using a marker and a feather-light touch to keep from ripping the fragile paper, he copied down the complex spell equation, sweat beading his brow as he concentrated. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he copied something wrong, but the book insinuated that it would be bad, and not just in the oops, it didn’t work sort of way.
He finished and double-checked the incomprehensible string of symbols, then opened his desk drawer and pulled out his pocket knife. He wished his friends were there, but it seemed cruel to exclude them from the spell, and then ask them to babysit his body while his soul was busy elsewhere. He felt pretty safe in his room, but there was always the remote possibility of his parents checking on him and finding him unresponsive. He could just imagine how that would freak them out.
Bryce considered waiting, but he knew he was worried about nothing. And he had let Alice get away with what she had done for far too long. His voice low, he read the quantum incantation, as Oliver had begun calling it, feeling the subatomic world begin to resonate around him, a low-level hum that pressed against his ear drums, making them itch. As he reached the final syllables, he pressed the point of his knife into the pad of his thumb, a large, dark bead of blood welling up. Bryce squeezed his thumb, holding his breath as the drop of blood fell upon the napkin, a bright red stain spreading across the thin paper.
His lamp flickered and he stood, the room spinning around him. Taking a staggering step, he fell heavily upon his bed, the room going dark.
Bryce’s eyes snapped open, the world unfocused, but even blurry, he could tell he wasn’t in his room anymore. He blinked, his vision slowly clearing, and sat up, looking around at the stuffed animals at the foot of the bed, the flowered comforter spread over him, the posters of kpop bands on the walls. He reached down to push the comforter aside and froze, the hand before him slender and delicate, the nails painted glittery pink. He wiggled his fingers, watching that feminine hand respond.
“Holy shit, I did it,” he whispered, the hushed voice softer, higher than his own. He climbed out of bed and rushed over to the closet door, standing before the floor-length mirror, his heart racing. No, not his heart, her heart. He stared out of Alice’s brown eyes, reaching up to run his fingers back through her shoulder-length blonde hair. He touched the thin straps of her silky nightgown, shifting his weight to feel the material slide against her skin. This was amazing.
Bryce pulled the front of the nightgown down, exposing Alice’s bare breasts, her nipples peaking in the chill air, and he smirked as he cupped one firm mound, kneading the solid flesh.
What the fuck is going on?
Bryce jumped and whirled around, her hair falling across his eyes. He pushed it out of his face and scanned the room, but it was dark, quiet, and empty.
I must be dreaming. It had a hollow, distant quality, but Bryce could still recognize Alice’s voice, echoing like an errant thought in his head. Am I sleepwalking? I’ve never sleepwalked before.
The book hadn’t said anything about her being aware while he was doing this. He briefly considered aborting his mission and just lying back down until the spell wore off, but she didn’t seem aware of him, and she didn’t seem to be able to stop him. She was just a spectator, along for the ride. He smirked again and headed for the kitchen.
This is so weird, Alice said as he walked down the hall. He had only been in her house a few times, but he remembered the layout pretty well. He stepped into the kitchen, the stone tile floor cold against her bare feet, and opened the fridge. Oh, God, am I sleep-eating? Is this why I gained five pounds this month?
Stifling a chuckle, Bryce searched the shelves and drawers, pulling out a foot-long sausage over an inch in diameter and an ear of fresh corn that was almost two inches at its widest point.
Eww, put that back, Alice said. If you have to eat something, grab a yogurt, you fatass.
Bryce headed back to her room, absently wondering if she always talked to herself like that. Low self-esteem might explain a lot. Of course, it didn’t excuse anything. He closed her door and locked it, then sat down at her laptop. She had once told him that her password was the name of her first dog, so he confidently typed ‘buttercup’ into the entry field and got to work setting up her webcam to record.
Now what am I doing? she asked. Is this going to be one of those food-porn videos of me eating gross stuff?
He was tempted to tell her that she was getting warmer, but he kept his mouth shut. He was looking forward to the moment when she figured it out for herself and he didn’t want to spoil it. Once the webcam was up and recording, he looked straight at it and began to speak. It was surreal hearing his words in her voice, but he didn’t let that distract him from what he wanted to say.
“Hello, my name is Alice Newman and I am a Senior at Riverbend High School,” he said.
What am I doing? Stop that! Alice said as Bryce proceeded to dox her, stating her birth date and home address. He wanted to give out her social security number, but he didn’t know it and he didn’t feel like looking for her card. That wasn’t really the point of this, just an added benefit.
“About a year ago, I posted a video about my ex-boyfriend, saying terrible things about him because I was confused and jealous.”
No, I wasn’t. What the hell is this?
“I was wrong to say those things, because I really hurt someone that I cared about, and this video is my penance. I know I can’t take back the things I said, but I hope this proves how sorry I truly am.”
But I’m not sorry! That perv got what he deserved!
Any second thoughts or doubts Bryce might have had evaporated like rain in the desert. He slid the chair back from the camera, waiting for the auto-focus to catch up, and then he eased the strap of her nightie down off one shoulder.
“The truth is,” Bryce said as he did the same to the other strap, “my boyfriend wasn’t the pervert. I am. I’m a naughty girl who likes showing off her tits.”
Don’t you fucking dare! Alice screamed. Bryce just smiled at the camera and slid the silky nightgown down over her creamy breasts, her dark nipples hard. He teased the pebbled flesh, a soft moan escaping her lips. Wake up, wake up! Wake the fuck up! She sounded absolutely panicked.
“Do you like my titties?” Bryce asked the camera. “I know they’re a little small, but the boys never seem to mind.” He slowly stood up, letting the nightgown slink down her body and fall to the floor, revealing her pink cotton panties, the crotch already dark with moisture. “Oh, dear, I’m such a bad girl. I’ve gone and made my panties all damp.”
Bryce was really getting into it, her skin hot, her heart racing as he slid her hand down the front of her underwear, feeling her tight, wet curls, the slick, swollen flesh of her pussy lips. He slipped a finger into her wet heat and rubbed against her clit, the sensation making her knees wobble.
He pulled his hand free, holding his slick, shiny finger out for the camera, then he slowly brought it up to his lips, giving the camera a wicked smile before licking up her juices.
“If anyone wants a taste, I’ll spread any time,” Bryce said, shoving her panties down. “Oops, looks like I’m not a natural blonde!” He played with her dark, neatly trimmed bush for a minute, then sank back down into the chair. He adjusted the camera to point down at her lap, and then he leaned back in the chair and put her feet up on her desk, her legs spread wide. The camera had great resolution, her pink flesh glistening as her clit swelled.
Inside his head, Alice made wounded-animal noises, utterly humiliated. But Bryce wasn’t finished yet. He picked up the sausage that he’d found in the fridge and reached down between her legs, trailing the rounded tip down her slick crease.
Don’t, please, Alice begged. I’m a virgin!
Bryce looked into the camera. “I tell people that I’m a virgin, but I’m really a dirty whore who loves to have her pussy stuffed. I’ll fuck anything, as long as it fits.” He pressed the sausage between her lips, finding her hole and forcing it in. He felt her hymen tear, a slight flash of pain and a lingering discomfort as her tight tunnel stretched around the solid length of meat. He imagined this wasn’t very sanitary, but honestly, he didn’t care.
“Oh, that feels so good,” he moaned in her voice, one hand kneading her breast as the other thrust the sausage into her hot box again and again, as deep as it would go. He felt the pleasure building within her, a slow simmering that made him ache for more. He wanted it harder, faster...and bigger.
Bryce pulled out the sausage and set it aside, her pussy clenching in anticipation as he picked up the ear of corn, already husked and washed. He slid it along her slit, the bumpy kernels rubbing against her clit and making him pant and moan.
“Oh, yeah,” he gasped, placing the tapered tip against her opening. “I like ‘em big and hard. Oh, fuck yes!” He cried out in pleasure as he pushed on the ear of corn, sliding it into her. It was so tight, he had to twist it from side to side, coating the surface of the corn with her hot, slick juices as he worked it deep. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” he exclaimed, her muscles clenching as waves of orgasm shuddered through her, leaving Bryce breathless and light-headed.
No more, Alice sobbed, pleading.
Bryce reached over and picked up the sausage again, still warm and slick.
“This naughty girl is never satisfied by just one,” he said. Holding the corn in place with one hand, he reached between her legs, leaning further back as he pressed the tip of the sausage against her puckered asshole. “Oh, yeah, fuck me in the ass! I like it in my ass!”
He pushed the sausage into her, deeper and deeper, until only a few inches of that foot-long wiener protruded from her asshole. Feet still braced against the edge of the desk, he began to fuck her pussy hard with the ear of corn, the wet, sucking sounds loud enough to be picked up by the microphone and echoed through the laptop speakers. He let go of the sausage with her other hand and dug her fingers into her wet mound, rubbing hard against her clit.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming!” he cried, her muscles tensing as the throbbing pleasure neared a crescendo. “I’m cumming!” He pounded her quivering pussy until he thought she was going to pass out, the sausage sliding out of her gaping asshole as her body bucked and shuddered. Finally, trembling and exhausted, he had to call it quits. His time owning her body was almost up, and he still had work to do.
Bryce shut off the recording and loaded up her editing software, snipping the video here and there, replaying her orgasms in slow-motion, zooming in as the ear of corn made its first deep penetration, and adding a quick intro.
“Perfect,” he murmured, opening a browser window and logging into her video-sharing account. This video went against all of the site’s rules and would be flagged and reported, it would be taken down and her account suspended, but not before plenty of people had a chance to download it and spread it around to other, less scrupulous sites. Like they tried to warn kids these days, anything put online stays there forever.
Please, don’t do this, Alice said in the back of his head. Wake up before you ruin my life.
“My dear Alice, haven’t you realized by now, ruining your life is the whole point,” he said, not caring if she realized what was happening. Once the spell faded, she wouldn’t remember. “Why should anyone give a shit about your feelings when you have no regard for the feelings of others? You brought this on yourself.”
Oh, my God, I’m talking to myself! Do I have multiple personalities? Is that what this is?
Bryce rolled his eyes and hit upload, watching the little bar fill until it read 100%. He clicked on her stats page and watched the hit counter. It stayed at 0 for all of thirty seconds, and within a minute, it was into the thousands.
“And there we are,” Bryce said, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “Now the whole world knows what a dirty little slut you are. How does it feel, Alice?” He could hear her sobbing in the back of his mind. He could also feel his hold on her slipping. His time was up. In one last, vindictive act, he picked up the ear of corn from where it had fallen, the kernels glistening as her juices ran down the cob, and he shoved it into her mouth, tasting her tangy flavor as the spell faded.
Bryce jerked wake, his heart pounding and his hard cock tenting the front of his pajamas. He stared up at his ceiling, his room lit by his desk lamp. Had that actually happened, or was he just dreaming? He grabbed his phone off the corner of his desk and searched for Alice’s username. Sure enough, her newest video began to play, and his hard-on strained to escape the confines of his pants. He fished it out and jerked off, cumming not once, but twice before the video finished playing.
Panting, he cleaned up and turned out the light.
~*~*~*~
Monday morning, Bryce waited at Miguel’s locker, practically dancing with excitement. He hadn’t dared send them a link to the video—passing around pornography would get him expelled, or maybe even arrested, so he couldn’t wait to tell him and Oliver about the success of his history project.
Apparently, they felt the same way. The first words out of Oliver’s mouth were, “So, how did it go?” In hushed tones, he began telling them all about the spell, but his story was interrupted by a cacophony of wolf whistles and catcalls. They looked down the hall as Alice hurried past a group of guys making lewd noises and rude gestures, her face beet red and streaked with tears.
“Ohh, perfecto, mi amigo,” Miguel said, dully impressed. “So, when do I get a turn with the book?”
“Excuse me?” Bryce said, arching an eyebrow.
“He’s right,” Oliver chimed in. “You said we could do solo projects. But I’m pretty sure you said I could go next.”
“He did not—”
“Guys, not now,” Bryce said. The principal had emerged from the front office, his large, imposing frame towering over the students. Rumor was that he used to play football, that he was going to go pro, and then an injury ended that. He did walk with a slight limp, so it could have been true.
“Miss Newman,” the principal called down the hall, his deep voice seeming to rattle Bryce to the bone. She looked up, her red face going white as a sheet. “My office. Now.”
“Boy, is she gonna get it,” Oliver said under his breath.
“She already did,” Miguel said with a snicker. “Bryce gave it to her good.”
They watched as Alice slunk past them. For a moment, she glanced up and Bryce met her eyes. He smirked and she looked away. One more history project in the books. Now, how to decide who got to go next?
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When three high school seniors find a book of magic spells, they set out on a quest to teach their bullies a lesson. First up is Finn, the arrogant jock who has tormented them all for years.All characters are 18+.
The first day of senior year, Bryce rushed down the stairs of his high school, pushing through the ravenous lunch crowd. He headed, not for the cafeteria, but for the commons—a large, grassy area between the various buildings, studded with shade trees and graffiti decorated picnic tables. He scanned the open space, his gaze finding his two best friends seated at one of the shady tables. Grinning from ear to ear, he jogged over, his over-stuffed backpack thumping against his lumbar region.
“Hey, fellas,” he said, plopping down beside Miguel and across from Oliver. “You are never going to believe what happened this summer.”
“Momentito, amigo,” Miguel said in his sexy Spanish accent. Contrary to what the bigots at school said, he wasn’t Mexican, he was from Spain, and Bryce always thought he sounded like Puss-in-Boots. Yes, he had a bit of a crush on his friend, but Miguel was the hetero element in their little social circle, and Bryce respected that. “Oliver was just telling me about his vacation adventures.”
“Oh, go anywhere exciting?”
“My cousin’s wedding,” Oliver said, tucking a stray lock of bright purple hair back behind his ear. “In Wisconsin.”
“Sounds fun,” Bryce said, his knee bouncing. He clutched at his backpack, fingers fiddling with the zipper pull.
Oliver gave him a dark look, his blue eyes highlighted with black liner. “I was an usher. In a tux.”
Bryce choked on a laugh, trying to imagine his friend in anything other than tight black jeans and flashy T-shirts. He was the gay one, and even though Bryce was somewhere between bi- and pansexual, they had never had those kinds of feeling about each other. Not surprising, really, considering how long they had been friends. They were nearly as close as brothers.
Bryce waited, looking back and forth between his friends, the pressure building in his chest threatening to burst out of his mouth.
“Okay, man, what’s got you so excited?” Miguel asked finally. “You’re bouncing the whole table.”
“Check this out,” Bryce said, jerking his backpack open and pulling out an old, leather-bound book. He set it on the table with a thump, his fingers caressing the supple leather. Both guys leaned in to read the title embossed in gold on the cover.
“Spells For the Body and Spirit,” Oliver read out loud. He arched an eyebrow at Bryce. “Did you take up D&D or something?”
“You joined a new age cult, didn’t you?” Miguel asked, peering over the top of his glasses.
“No, to both of you,” Bryce said. “You know how my grandfather died last spring? Well, after all the family took everything they wanted from his house, there was a bunch of junk left. My father and his sister couldn’t sell the house until it was cleaned out, so they paid me to do it.”
“Nice of them,” Oliver said, trying to lift the cover of the book. Bryce put his hand on it, holding it closed.
“I volunteered. It was too hard for them. Everything had sentimental value, you know—old toys and letters and clothes. And books.” He looked down at the tome on the table, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I found this in a box in the attic, and I thought the same things you guys did. But this book is the real deal. It’s full of real spells that really work.”
Miguel and Oliver exchanged a worried look, and Miguel reached out as if to check Bryce for a fever. Bryce pushed his hand away.
“I’m not fucking with you, and I’m not crazy,” he said. “I did one of the spells, just messing around, and it worked. And I can prove it.” He pulled out his phone, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and leaned close to his friends. He pulled up a photo and held it up for them to see.
Their jaws dropped, faces flushing red, and Miguel grabbed the phone, turning it face down on the book.
“Who the hell is that?” he asked. He hesitated, then lifted the phone for another peek at the young woman.
Bryce chuckled. “That is my grandfather’s neighbor’s cocker spaniel.”
“What?” they both said together, voices echoing off the surrounding buildings.
“Shhh, you dumbasses,” Bryce said, glancing around again. “Look, I did this spell...” He opened the book, flipping to the page he had marked with a post-it. “It turns animals into people.”
Oliver pulled the book over in front of him and buried his nose in it, while Miguel took another look at Bryce’s phone.
“Damn, those are some nice tits,” he said, then shoved the phone back into Bryce’s hand. “You know this is totally loco, right? I mean, you don’t really expect us to believe this shit, do you?”
“I hoped you would,” Bryce said, “but no, I know it’s insane. I just need to know if you guys trust me enough to do one of these spells with me. Then you’ll see.”
“I’ll do it,” Oliver said, much to Bryce’s surprise. He’d expected him to be the most skeptical. Oliver looked up from the book. “This spell references quantum mechanics and subatomic particles in ways I’ve never heard of. Theoretically, what it suggests may be possible.”
Bryce turned back to Miguel. “So? What do you say?”
“Just one question,” Miguel said. “The dog-girl. Did you..?”
“What do you think?” Bryce said with a broad grin. “She wasn’t big on conversation, but man, was she eager to please. And energetic.”
Miguel groaned. “You’re killing me, man. Hell yeah, I’m in. What do you—”
“Hey, nerd squad, you’re at our table.”
Bryce flinched at the deep, loud voice echoing across the commons. Finn. Star quarterback and all around arrogant jerk, he’d been a pain in their asses since the sixth grade. And he wasn’t alone, trailing two of his football buddies and no fewer than four girls. He smirked at them as he approached, tall and handsome, with perfect teeth and perfect hair, and Bryce wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off his face. But not today.
Oliver snapped the book closed, hugging it to his chest as they vacated the shady table, moving to the other side of the commons, where the only empty spot was in the broiling sun.
“So, what spell did you want to do?” Miguel asked. “The animal to human one again? ‘Cause my neighbor has this siamese cat—”
Bryce shook his head and took the book back from Oliver. “I was thinking we should try this one.” He opened to a page in the back and held it up for them to read.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Oliver whispered. “Who did you have in mind?”
Bryce closed the book. “Who do you think?”
Oliver and Miguel looked at each other and nodded.
“Finn.”
~*~*~*~
On Friday, between classes, Bryce slipped into the boy’s locker room and placed a piece of duct tape over the latch on the exterior door, preventing it from catching properly. That night, while everyone in town was packed into the stadium across the street, cheering for their three-time state champion football team, Bryce snuck back in and borrowed the sweaty shirt hanging in Finn’s locker, because the beloved quarterback didn’t bother to close the close the door, let alone lock it.
Miguel and Oliver waited for him outside, in a grove of trees near the fence. It was secluded enough that the ground was littered with cigarette butts and used condoms, so they weren’t too worried about being caught. Bryce drew a circle in the dirt and placed the shirt inside. He pulled a three by five index card out of his pocket, already inscribed with the incomprehensible spell equation. Oliver had called it a complex blend of advanced physics and pure madness, but if Sparkles the dog-girl was any indication, they didn’t need to understand it to make it work.
Bryce set the spell card on the shirt and they held their hands over it, the tips of their fingers touching. Bryce wasn’t sure if it was just nerves, but he thought he could feel a strange energy zinging through their fingers as they began to chant the activation sequence. It wasn’t in English, or any language that they could find. Oliver had theorized that it wasn’t language at all, it was just sounds that acted upon the vibrating strings that made up everything in the universe. However it worked, they made sure to follow the directions in the book to the last letter.
As the final sound died away, a resounding cheer rose up from the stadium. Their team had scored another touchdown.
Miguel looked back and forth between them. “Did it work?”
“How can we tell?” Oliver asked.
“Well, with the dog, it was a slow transformation,” Bryce said, grabbing his note card and the shirt. “I’m going to put this back, and then we can go to the game and see if anything is happening.”
The fourth quarter was half over and the ticket booth was closed, so they just walked in and found a spot near the exit. Finn was on the field, throwing perfect spirals and scrambling for first downs like he did every Friday. Bryce watched him run off the field after yet another score, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It should have worked. They did everything right.
As the last seconds ticked off the clock, the student section emptied onto the field as the rest of the crowd flooded out into the parking lot. Bryce remained in his seat, his gaze burning holes through Finn as his teammates hoisted him into the air in celebration.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Oliver said finally, rising to his feet. “It was a neat idea—”
“It should have worked, damn it.”
“We can figure out what went wrong and try again,” Miguel said. “Unless...”
“Unless, what?” Bryce asked.
“Unless you want to admit this was just a joke. I mean, it was a good one. You got us good, man.”
Bryce glanced at Oliver, who shrugged and nodded. He thought it was a joke, too.
“Fuck you both,” Bryce said, storming down the bleachers. Some friends.
They caught up to him in the parking lot.
“Bryce, wait up,” Oliver said. “Do you swear, and I mean really swear on everything you hold dear, that this wasn’t a joke.”
“I swear on my dick,” Bryce said, which was just about the most dire oath a young man could make. “This should have worked.”
“Okay, then,” Miguel said. “Let’s wait around for Finn to change out of his football gear and see if he looks any different.”
“Right, those pads could be hiding any changes,” Oliver said.
They loitered outside the fence, watching as the teams filed across the street to the gym. It wasn’t long before players began to trickle out in their street clothes. Bryce and his cohorts tried to look like they were waiting for a ride, but no one paid them any attention, anyway. Even the coaches barely spared them a glance as they headed for their cars.
“That must be everyone,” Oliver said. “Did either of you see Finn come out?”
They shook their heads.
“Should we go look?” Miguel asked.
“Hang on,” Bryce said as the gym doors opened and two more players came out, carrying their overstuffed gear bags. Bryce recognized them as Finn’s two closest friends.
“Did you see Finn in there?” one of them asked, his voice carrying across the street.
“I think he might have a concussion,” the other one said.
“How, bro? He never got hit once.”
“Beats me.” They crossed the street and headed for their respective vehicles.
“Some friends,” Oliver muttered. “If I was acting strange, you guys wouldn’t leave me, would you?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Bryce said, laughing. Oliver punched him in the back, but not hard enough to hurt.
“Hey, hey—door,” Miguel said, but it wasn’t Finn that stepped out into the night, it was Coach Davis. “I thought the coach left last.”
“Me, too,” Oliver said. “So, did we miss Finn?”
“I’m gonna find out,” Bryce said, heading for the gym. They slipped around behind the building, climbing through a hole in the fence, and eased open the exterior locker room door. The door was in the back corner for privacy, so Bryce couldn’t see anything by the back side of a bank of lockers, but the room was silent, save for the sound of splashing water. He motioned for Miguel and Oliver to be quiet and follow him.
Inside, it smelled of sweat and musk and body spray, the air warm and steamy. Moving cautiously, the guys made their way to the shower area and peered around the tiled wall.
Finn sat upon the floor beneath the streaming shower, leaning back against the wall as he gripped and kneaded his own chest, his soft moans echoing in the closed space. Concussion, indeed. Then Bryce did a double-take, his eyes widening. Finn’s pecs were swelling, his small man-nipples expanding into large, dark areolas with pebbled peaks in the center.
“Madre de Dios, he’s got tits,” Miguel hissed, grabbing Bryce’s arm. The mounds of flesh continued to grow, filling Finn’s sizable hands.
“Oh, God,” Finn moaned. “What is happening to me?” He spread his legs, drawing his knees up and reaching down between his legs to rub the smooth skin behind his balls. Finn moaned, his back arching, as a mound formed behind his balls, a shadow dividing the soft swell down the middle. Like a flower bud opening in the sun, the pink, glistening inner folds of Finn’s brand new vagina spread open. Bryce gasped, his cock hardening.
“Holy shit, it worked!” Oliver said, a little too loudly.
Finn’s eyes snapped open. “Who’s there?”
Thinking fast, Bryce whipped out his phone and snapped several shots of Finn and his new anatomy.
“Say cheese, princess,” Bryce said, stepping into the opening of the shower area.
“You little pervert,” Finn said, his face flushing an ugly shade of scarlet. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“No, you won’t,” Bryce said, pretending to fiddle with the phone, “or else all the posts I have scheduled will go live on Facebook, Insta, Tiktok—everywhere—and everyone will see what you’ve become. How do you think your friends will like your new pussy, princess?”
“What do you want?” Finn asked, his voice low.
“You belong to us now,” Bryce said, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “You’re our bitch and you’ll do whatever we say, or we’ll make sure you regret you were ever born.” Finn just stared at him, and Bryce could just imagine the hamster falling off its wheel inside his skull. “Now, turn off that water and get out here.”
Bryce walked away, his heart pounding as he waited to see if Finn would obey.
“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Oliver said, his hands trembling with excitement.
“Is this permanent?” Miguel asked. “Did the book say?”
“It says in the introduction,” Bryce replied. “The effects of a transformation last for an hour, and when it wears off, it returns the subject to their previous state, body and mind. So, I’m thinking that means he won’t even remember this.”
“But what if he does?” Miguel pressed. “He could report us to the police. I don’t want to go to jail.”
“Do you want to leave?” Bryce asked, trying to hide his disappointment. He glanced at Oliver. “What about you? Guys, as long as we’re too scared to take our revenge, the bullies will just keep knocking us down. Think about it: no more being forced to move because someone wants our spot, no more feet stuck out to trip us in the halls, no more snickers and muttered slurs. We will finally get the basic respect that we as human beings deserve.”
“Rousing speech, pervert,” Finn said, one arm awkwardly trying to cover his breasts as he dripped water on the floor. He didn’t seem concerned with covering his dick, however. “Which of your favorite nerd movies did you steal that from?”
Bryce grabbed a towel off the nearby rack and tossed it to him.
“Dry off.”
Finn shook out the towel and dried his hair, then ran the coarse terrycloth down his body, his breath catching and a deep blush creeping up his face as he dried his breasts, his nipples tightening. He cleared his throat. “If you think humiliating me is going to make your pathetic lives any better, you’re not just nerds, you’re idiots.” He walked past them, over to his locker, and placed one foot up on the bench, his back to them as he bent forward to dry his leg.
The slick, pink lips of his pussy peeked out from between his legs, and Bryce slid up behind him, pressing the flat of his hand against that wet heat. Finn gasped, a shudder racking his lean, muscular body, and he moaned, pushing back against Bryce’s hand.
“You feel that?” Bryce asked as Finn ground against his hand. “This isn’t about humiliation, it’s about having you at our complete and total mercy. You’re like a bitch in heat, and you’ll be begging us to fuck you before this is over.”
“Oh, fuck! You bastards,” Finn groaned, his hips jerking as Bryce slid two fingers between those sensitive folds, stroking Finn’s clit and making his legs shake. He pulled his hand back, his cock hard enough to cut glass as he undid his jeans and shoved them down to his knees. He stroked himself, spreading Finn’s pussy juice along his shaft, and then stepped up behind the quarterback.
“Guess what this is, princess,” Bryce said, rubbing his knob against that slick slit, spreading Finn’s folds with his cockhead.
“Oh, God, is that what I think it is?” Finn panted, planting both feet on the floor and widening his stance. He bent farther, bracing his hands against the bench, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge. “You...you can’t do this to me. I’m a guy.”
“At the moment, your pussy would beg to differ,” Bryce said, pressing his cockhead against Finn’s virgin channel. The big man mewled like a kitten, shaking with need as his new body betrayed him, overwhelmed by the sensitivity of his new flesh. “You want it, don’t you?” Bryce asked, teasing that quivering hole, starting to push in, then pulling back. “Ask for it, princess. Beg for it.”
“Yes...yes, please,” Finn whimpered. “Give it to me.”
“Give you what, princess?”
“Your cock!” Finn all but shouted. “Put your cock in me, please!”
“Fuck, this is muy caliente,” Miguel whispered, reminding Bryce that he and Oliver were still there. Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Miguel.
“Film this, will you? I want a video of me popping his cherry.”
Bryce waited until Miguel gave him the nod, and then he pushed in, his cock squeezed by Finn’s tight channel. He met a momentary resistance, but a forceful thrust tore through the hymen. Finn cried out, his body shaking as Bryce slid in to the hilt.
“How does that feel, princess?” Bryce asked, grabbing Finn’s chiseled hips and holding himself deep in the quarterback’s pussy.
“B-big,” Finn panted. “You’re so big. I-I had no idea it would feel so good.”
“Yes, you’re hungry for cock, aren’t you, little princess,” Bryce said, reveling in this new power. It made his head spin, having Finn at his mercy. He began to pump his hips, pulling back until he almost slipped out, then thrusting hard, his balls slapping against Finn’s slick mound.
“Oh! Oh, fuck! I’m cumming!” Finn cried, his passage clenching around Bryce’s cock, waves of orgasm shuddering through him. Curious, Bryce glanced beneath Finn, but there was no semen on the floor and his cock was rock hard. Apparently, that was a pussy-only orgasm. Bryce pounded him harder, until he was panting and shaking. “Wh-what’s happening? I feel like I’m gonna cum again.”
Bryce laughed through gritted teeth, fighting against his own impending climax.
“Don’t you know, women can have multiple orgasms?” he asked. “Let me guess, you’re a ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ kind of guy.”
“Oh! Oh, God! Oh, fuck!” Finn shouted, his vaginal muscles gripping Bryce like a fist, bringing him to the most intense climax of his life. He drove deep into Finn, his balls trying to turn themselves inside out as he emptied his load. Groaning softly, he withdrew, staggering back as Finn’s knees buckled and he collapsed, catching himself on the bench.
Bryce turned to Miguel and Oliver, a lazy, sated smile on his face.
“So, who’s next? Or do you guys still want to leave?”
Miguel shoved the phone into Oliver’s hands, fumbling with his zipper as he rushed to get his jeans down.
“Hold on, why do you get to go next?” Oliver asked.
“Because it’s your turn to hold the camera,” Miguel answered, like it couldn’t be more obvious.
“But I thought you were straight,” Oliver argued.
“Duh—pussy,” Miguel said, trying to elbow Oliver out of the way.
Oliver pushed back, refusing to move. “Uh, hello? He’s got a dick.”
“Boys, boys, no need to fight,” Bryce said, zipping up and tugging his shirt down. “Our princess has enough holes for everyone. Oliver, you prefer ass anyway, right?”
“Forget it,” Finn panted, struggling to get to his feet. His legs still looked a little wobbly. “Nobody is fucking me in the ass.”
“Oh, well, in that case, we’ll be sure to tag you in that video of you begging for my cock,” Bryce said, reaching for the phone. “Do you want to see it, or should I just post it?”
“Fuck you!” Finn shouted, his face red as his gaze darted to each of them in turn. “Fuck you all!” He looked like he was going to cry.
“Yeah, that’s the plan, princess,” Bryce said. He went into the coach’s office and came out pushing a plush, leather office chair. “Have a seat, Miguel.”
Miguel looked confused for a moment, then the light of realization dawned in his eyes. He dropped his jeans and sat in the chair, squirming a little to rub his bare ass on the buttery-soft leather.
“Ven aqui, princess,” Miguel said, one hand gliding up and down his hard cock. He had a nice dick, both long and thick, and unlike Bryce and most of the guys he’d been with, Miguel was uncut, his dark foreskin covering a bulbous knob. He crooked his finger at Finn. “Come here.”
Finn balked, but Bryce gave him an encouraging shove, pushing him onto Miguel’s lap. The chair groaned beneath their weight as Finn straddled Miguel and sank down onto his cock, Finn’s back arching as Miguel filled his slippery tunnel.
“Mmm, magnifica,” Miguel murmured, his hands cupping Finn’s tits, kneading and squeezing the mounds of flesh. He bowed his head, lips capturing the taut nub of a nipple, and Finn moaned, rocking his hips and riding Miguel’s cock.
“We’re running out of battery,” Oliver said, handing Bryce the phone. He slid his tight black jeans down around his thighs, and Bryce was shocked to see a metal ring piercing the head of Oliver’s cock. Oliver caught him staring and gave his cock a slow stroke. “Like it? My birthday present to myself.”
“Didn’t it hurt?” Bryce asked, cringing a little at the thought.
Oliver shrugged. “A bit, but the added sensitivity has more than made up for it. Hey, you don’t have any lube, do you?”
“Are you kidding?” Bryce asked, looking down where Miguel and Finn’s bodies were joined. “The princess is dripping like a faucet. Use that.”
“It’s not as silky as a quality lube,” Oliver complained, coating his fingers in Finn’s juices. He slicked his cockhead and guided his pierced knob between Finn’s muscular ass cheeks, rubbing up and down over Finn’s tight hole. Finn froze, his mouth open, helpless little gasps escaping him as Miguel continued to suckle and tease his sensitive nipples.
Oliver eased into him, a slight frown creasing his brow as he concentrated. Bryce could see Finn tense, resisting, but it was futile. Oliver slid inside, filling Finn’s back passage, and forcing a breathless moan from his lips. Oliver leaned against Finn’s back and whispered in his ear.
“Don’t be scared, princess,” he said. “Being fucked in the ass doesn’t make you queer. Unless it feels good, of course.”
The look of panic on Finn’s face was priceless and it was all Bryce could do not to laugh out loud. Oliver was just fucking with him. Enjoying anal sex had very little to do with sexual orientation and everything to do with the sheer number of nerves located in and around the anus. It was simple biology, but something the die-hard homophobes couldn’t get past.
“This is even better than I imagined,” Bryce said, crouching down beside the chair to get the perfect angle. He filmed Oliver’s cock sliding slowly out, and then driving back in, Finn’s body bucking with each deep thrust. Miguel finally managed to pry his lips away from Finn’s tits, and he planted his feet firmly against the floor and raised his hips, thrusting up into Finn’s hot, wet pussy.
“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Finn shouted, digging his fingers into the back of the chair as he bucked and writhed between the two men. He sagged, panting, shuddering with the echoes of his orgasm, but within moments, he was arching again, desperate moans filling the locker room.
Bryce’s phone flashed the low battery warning and he reluctantly put it away, his hand rubbing his growing erection through his jeans as he watched his friends fuck Finn nearly senseless. The quarterback came at least twice more before Miguel arched his back, his face twisted in a grimace of ecstasy as he filled Finn’s pussy. He slumped, flushed and sweaty, his glasses fogged over, holding Finn’s hips while Oliver pounded into Finn’s ass. Finn gasped, a look of bewilderment on his face as he cried out, cumming again as Oliver slammed into him and dumped his load.
All three of them looked dazed as they uncoupled, Finn taking a staggering step toward his locker. Bryce caught him by the arm and pulled him back.
“We’re not done yet, princess,” he said.
“Oh, come on,” Finn groaned. “I can’t cum again, please.”
“We’ll see about that,” Bryce said, motioning for Miguel to get out of the chair. He pushed Finn down into the soft leather and dropped his jeans again. Finn practically sobbed as Bryce raised his long, muscular legs, hooking Finn’s ankles over his shoulders. With a glance at the clock on the wall, Bryce wasted no time plunging deep into Finn’s pussy, making him gasp and arch. Their hour was almost up. Finn was still as hot and tight at the first thrust, his muscular walls contracting and squeezing Bryce’s cock as Bryce fucked him hard and fast.
“Oh, God, not again,” Finn gasped, his tits bouncing as he bucked and shivered, a look of exquisite agony racing over his features. Feeling more then a little devious, Bryce reached down and grasped Finn’s cock, jerking him industriously as he continued to pound Finn’s pussy. Finn howled, clawing at the arms of the chair, as his cock erupted, striping his chest with strings of glistening pearls. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, his chin thumping against his chest.
“Oh, shit, you killed him,” Oliver gasped, but Bryce could see the rapid rise and fall of Finn’s chest. He was just unconscious. His own climax approaching, Bryce pulled out and stroked his slick cock, shooting his load onto Finn, thick strings dangling from the arrogant jock’s hair and nose.
Exhausted but extremely satisfied, Bryce put his clothes back in order and took out his phone one last time. He just hoped he had enough battery left.
“You probably don’t remember how this happened,” he said, filming Finn passed out in the chair. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we can do it again any time, and we will unless you start being a helluva lot nicer to all the freaks and queers and nerds that you think aren’t worth your time. Remember that.”
He shut off the video and went to Finn’s locker, pulling Finn’s phone out of his bag. After unlocking it with Finn’s thumb print, he texted the video to Finn’s number, and then put it back. With big, dopey smiles on their faces, they fled the locker room, slipping back out through the fence and hurrying down the street.
“Gracias, mi amigo,” Miguel said, clapping Bryce heartily on the back. “That was fucking amazing!”
“Yeah, man, thanks for sharing your spell book with us,” Oliver said.
“Thanks for believing me,” Bryce said. “I know it wasn’t easy. There’s just one more thing I need to ask you.” He stopped, regarding them with a grave expression, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for long. He grinned broadly. “Who should we do next?”
The first day of senior year, Bryce rushed down the stairs of his high school, pushing through the ravenous lunch crowd. He headed, not for the cafeteria, but for the commons—a large, grassy area between the various buildings, studded with shade trees and graffiti decorated picnic tables. He scanned the open space, his gaze finding his two best friends seated at one of the shady tables. Grinning from ear to ear, he jogged over, his over-stuffed backpack thumping against his lumbar region.
“Hey, fellas,” he said, plopping down beside Miguel and across from Oliver. “You are never going to believe what happened this summer.”
“Momentito, amigo,” Miguel said in his sexy Spanish accent. Contrary to what the bigots at school said, he wasn’t Mexican, he was from Spain, and Bryce always thought he sounded like Puss-in-Boots. Yes, he had a bit of a crush on his friend, but Miguel was the hetero element in their little social circle, and Bryce respected that. “Oliver was just telling me about his vacation adventures.”
“Oh, go anywhere exciting?”
“My cousin’s wedding,” Oliver said, tucking a stray lock of bright purple hair back behind his ear. “In Wisconsin.”
“Sounds fun,” Bryce said, his knee bouncing. He clutched at his backpack, fingers fiddling with the zipper pull.
Oliver gave him a dark look, his blue eyes highlighted with black liner. “I was an usher. In a tux.”
Bryce choked on a laugh, trying to imagine his friend in anything other than tight black jeans and flashy T-shirts. He was the gay one, and even though Bryce was somewhere between bi- and pansexual, they had never had those kinds of feeling about each other. Not surprising, really, considering how long they had been friends. They were nearly as close as brothers.
Bryce waited, looking back and forth between his friends, the pressure building in his chest threatening to burst out of his mouth.
“Okay, man, what’s got you so excited?” Miguel asked finally. “You’re bouncing the whole table.”
“Check this out,” Bryce said, jerking his backpack open and pulling out an old, leather-bound book. He set it on the table with a thump, his fingers caressing the supple leather. Both guys leaned in to read the title embossed in gold on the cover.
“Spells For the Body and Spirit,” Oliver read out loud. He arched an eyebrow at Bryce. “Did you take up D&D or something?”
“You joined a new age cult, didn’t you?” Miguel asked, peering over the top of his glasses.
“No, to both of you,” Bryce said. “You know how my grandfather died last spring? Well, after all the family took everything they wanted from his house, there was a bunch of junk left. My father and his sister couldn’t sell the house until it was cleaned out, so they paid me to do it.”
“Nice of them,” Oliver said, trying to lift the cover of the book. Bryce put his hand on it, holding it closed.
“I volunteered. It was too hard for them. Everything had sentimental value, you know—old toys and letters and clothes. And books.” He looked down at the tome on the table, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I found this in a box in the attic, and I thought the same things you guys did. But this book is the real deal. It’s full of real spells that really work.”
Miguel and Oliver exchanged a worried look, and Miguel reached out as if to check Bryce for a fever. Bryce pushed his hand away.
“I’m not fucking with you, and I’m not crazy,” he said. “I did one of the spells, just messing around, and it worked. And I can prove it.” He pulled out his phone, glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, and leaned close to his friends. He pulled up a photo and held it up for them to see.
Their jaws dropped, faces flushing red, and Miguel grabbed the phone, turning it face down on the book.
“Who the hell is that?” he asked. He hesitated, then lifted the phone for another peek at the young woman.
Bryce chuckled. “That is my grandfather’s neighbor’s cocker spaniel.”
“What?” they both said together, voices echoing off the surrounding buildings.
“Shhh, you dumbasses,” Bryce said, glancing around again. “Look, I did this spell...” He opened the book, flipping to the page he had marked with a post-it. “It turns animals into people.”
Oliver pulled the book over in front of him and buried his nose in it, while Miguel took another look at Bryce’s phone.
“Damn, those are some nice tits,” he said, then shoved the phone back into Bryce’s hand. “You know this is totally loco, right? I mean, you don’t really expect us to believe this shit, do you?”
“I hoped you would,” Bryce said, “but no, I know it’s insane. I just need to know if you guys trust me enough to do one of these spells with me. Then you’ll see.”
“I’ll do it,” Oliver said, much to Bryce’s surprise. He’d expected him to be the most skeptical. Oliver looked up from the book. “This spell references quantum mechanics and subatomic particles in ways I’ve never heard of. Theoretically, what it suggests may be possible.”
Bryce turned back to Miguel. “So? What do you say?”
“Just one question,” Miguel said. “The dog-girl. Did you..?”
“What do you think?” Bryce said with a broad grin. “She wasn’t big on conversation, but man, was she eager to please. And energetic.”
Miguel groaned. “You’re killing me, man. Hell yeah, I’m in. What do you—”
“Hey, nerd squad, you’re at our table.”
Bryce flinched at the deep, loud voice echoing across the commons. Finn. Star quarterback and all around arrogant jerk, he’d been a pain in their asses since the sixth grade. And he wasn’t alone, trailing two of his football buddies and no fewer than four girls. He smirked at them as he approached, tall and handsome, with perfect teeth and perfect hair, and Bryce wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smile off his face. But not today.
Oliver snapped the book closed, hugging it to his chest as they vacated the shady table, moving to the other side of the commons, where the only empty spot was in the broiling sun.
“So, what spell did you want to do?” Miguel asked. “The animal to human one again? ‘Cause my neighbor has this siamese cat—”
Bryce shook his head and took the book back from Oliver. “I was thinking we should try this one.” He opened to a page in the back and held it up for them to read.
“Un-fucking-believable,” Oliver whispered. “Who did you have in mind?”
Bryce closed the book. “Who do you think?”
Oliver and Miguel looked at each other and nodded.
“Finn.”
~*~*~*~
On Friday, between classes, Bryce slipped into the boy’s locker room and placed a piece of duct tape over the latch on the exterior door, preventing it from catching properly. That night, while everyone in town was packed into the stadium across the street, cheering for their three-time state champion football team, Bryce snuck back in and borrowed the sweaty shirt hanging in Finn’s locker, because the beloved quarterback didn’t bother to close the close the door, let alone lock it.
Miguel and Oliver waited for him outside, in a grove of trees near the fence. It was secluded enough that the ground was littered with cigarette butts and used condoms, so they weren’t too worried about being caught. Bryce drew a circle in the dirt and placed the shirt inside. He pulled a three by five index card out of his pocket, already inscribed with the incomprehensible spell equation. Oliver had called it a complex blend of advanced physics and pure madness, but if Sparkles the dog-girl was any indication, they didn’t need to understand it to make it work.
Bryce set the spell card on the shirt and they held their hands over it, the tips of their fingers touching. Bryce wasn’t sure if it was just nerves, but he thought he could feel a strange energy zinging through their fingers as they began to chant the activation sequence. It wasn’t in English, or any language that they could find. Oliver had theorized that it wasn’t language at all, it was just sounds that acted upon the vibrating strings that made up everything in the universe. However it worked, they made sure to follow the directions in the book to the last letter.
As the final sound died away, a resounding cheer rose up from the stadium. Their team had scored another touchdown.
Miguel looked back and forth between them. “Did it work?”
“How can we tell?” Oliver asked.
“Well, with the dog, it was a slow transformation,” Bryce said, grabbing his note card and the shirt. “I’m going to put this back, and then we can go to the game and see if anything is happening.”
The fourth quarter was half over and the ticket booth was closed, so they just walked in and found a spot near the exit. Finn was on the field, throwing perfect spirals and scrambling for first downs like he did every Friday. Bryce watched him run off the field after yet another score, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It should have worked. They did everything right.
As the last seconds ticked off the clock, the student section emptied onto the field as the rest of the crowd flooded out into the parking lot. Bryce remained in his seat, his gaze burning holes through Finn as his teammates hoisted him into the air in celebration.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Oliver said finally, rising to his feet. “It was a neat idea—”
“It should have worked, damn it.”
“We can figure out what went wrong and try again,” Miguel said. “Unless...”
“Unless, what?” Bryce asked.
“Unless you want to admit this was just a joke. I mean, it was a good one. You got us good, man.”
Bryce glanced at Oliver, who shrugged and nodded. He thought it was a joke, too.
“Fuck you both,” Bryce said, storming down the bleachers. Some friends.
They caught up to him in the parking lot.
“Bryce, wait up,” Oliver said. “Do you swear, and I mean really swear on everything you hold dear, that this wasn’t a joke.”
“I swear on my dick,” Bryce said, which was just about the most dire oath a young man could make. “This should have worked.”
“Okay, then,” Miguel said. “Let’s wait around for Finn to change out of his football gear and see if he looks any different.”
“Right, those pads could be hiding any changes,” Oliver said.
They loitered outside the fence, watching as the teams filed across the street to the gym. It wasn’t long before players began to trickle out in their street clothes. Bryce and his cohorts tried to look like they were waiting for a ride, but no one paid them any attention, anyway. Even the coaches barely spared them a glance as they headed for their cars.
“That must be everyone,” Oliver said. “Did either of you see Finn come out?”
They shook their heads.
“Should we go look?” Miguel asked.
“Hang on,” Bryce said as the gym doors opened and two more players came out, carrying their overstuffed gear bags. Bryce recognized them as Finn’s two closest friends.
“Did you see Finn in there?” one of them asked, his voice carrying across the street.
“I think he might have a concussion,” the other one said.
“How, bro? He never got hit once.”
“Beats me.” They crossed the street and headed for their respective vehicles.
“Some friends,” Oliver muttered. “If I was acting strange, you guys wouldn’t leave me, would you?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Bryce said, laughing. Oliver punched him in the back, but not hard enough to hurt.
“Hey, hey—door,” Miguel said, but it wasn’t Finn that stepped out into the night, it was Coach Davis. “I thought the coach left last.”
“Me, too,” Oliver said. “So, did we miss Finn?”
“I’m gonna find out,” Bryce said, heading for the gym. They slipped around behind the building, climbing through a hole in the fence, and eased open the exterior locker room door. The door was in the back corner for privacy, so Bryce couldn’t see anything by the back side of a bank of lockers, but the room was silent, save for the sound of splashing water. He motioned for Miguel and Oliver to be quiet and follow him.
Inside, it smelled of sweat and musk and body spray, the air warm and steamy. Moving cautiously, the guys made their way to the shower area and peered around the tiled wall.
Finn sat upon the floor beneath the streaming shower, leaning back against the wall as he gripped and kneaded his own chest, his soft moans echoing in the closed space. Concussion, indeed. Then Bryce did a double-take, his eyes widening. Finn’s pecs were swelling, his small man-nipples expanding into large, dark areolas with pebbled peaks in the center.
“Madre de Dios, he’s got tits,” Miguel hissed, grabbing Bryce’s arm. The mounds of flesh continued to grow, filling Finn’s sizable hands.
“Oh, God,” Finn moaned. “What is happening to me?” He spread his legs, drawing his knees up and reaching down between his legs to rub the smooth skin behind his balls. Finn moaned, his back arching, as a mound formed behind his balls, a shadow dividing the soft swell down the middle. Like a flower bud opening in the sun, the pink, glistening inner folds of Finn’s brand new vagina spread open. Bryce gasped, his cock hardening.
“Holy shit, it worked!” Oliver said, a little too loudly.
Finn’s eyes snapped open. “Who’s there?”
Thinking fast, Bryce whipped out his phone and snapped several shots of Finn and his new anatomy.
“Say cheese, princess,” Bryce said, stepping into the opening of the shower area.
“You little pervert,” Finn said, his face flushing an ugly shade of scarlet. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“No, you won’t,” Bryce said, pretending to fiddle with the phone, “or else all the posts I have scheduled will go live on Facebook, Insta, Tiktok—everywhere—and everyone will see what you’ve become. How do you think your friends will like your new pussy, princess?”
“What do you want?” Finn asked, his voice low.
“You belong to us now,” Bryce said, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “You’re our bitch and you’ll do whatever we say, or we’ll make sure you regret you were ever born.” Finn just stared at him, and Bryce could just imagine the hamster falling off its wheel inside his skull. “Now, turn off that water and get out here.”
Bryce walked away, his heart pounding as he waited to see if Finn would obey.
“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Oliver said, his hands trembling with excitement.
“Is this permanent?” Miguel asked. “Did the book say?”
“It says in the introduction,” Bryce replied. “The effects of a transformation last for an hour, and when it wears off, it returns the subject to their previous state, body and mind. So, I’m thinking that means he won’t even remember this.”
“But what if he does?” Miguel pressed. “He could report us to the police. I don’t want to go to jail.”
“Do you want to leave?” Bryce asked, trying to hide his disappointment. He glanced at Oliver. “What about you? Guys, as long as we’re too scared to take our revenge, the bullies will just keep knocking us down. Think about it: no more being forced to move because someone wants our spot, no more feet stuck out to trip us in the halls, no more snickers and muttered slurs. We will finally get the basic respect that we as human beings deserve.”
“Rousing speech, pervert,” Finn said, one arm awkwardly trying to cover his breasts as he dripped water on the floor. He didn’t seem concerned with covering his dick, however. “Which of your favorite nerd movies did you steal that from?”
Bryce grabbed a towel off the nearby rack and tossed it to him.
“Dry off.”
Finn shook out the towel and dried his hair, then ran the coarse terrycloth down his body, his breath catching and a deep blush creeping up his face as he dried his breasts, his nipples tightening. He cleared his throat. “If you think humiliating me is going to make your pathetic lives any better, you’re not just nerds, you’re idiots.” He walked past them, over to his locker, and placed one foot up on the bench, his back to them as he bent forward to dry his leg.
The slick, pink lips of his pussy peeked out from between his legs, and Bryce slid up behind him, pressing the flat of his hand against that wet heat. Finn gasped, a shudder racking his lean, muscular body, and he moaned, pushing back against Bryce’s hand.
“You feel that?” Bryce asked as Finn ground against his hand. “This isn’t about humiliation, it’s about having you at our complete and total mercy. You’re like a bitch in heat, and you’ll be begging us to fuck you before this is over.”
“Oh, fuck! You bastards,” Finn groaned, his hips jerking as Bryce slid two fingers between those sensitive folds, stroking Finn’s clit and making his legs shake. He pulled his hand back, his cock hard enough to cut glass as he undid his jeans and shoved them down to his knees. He stroked himself, spreading Finn’s pussy juice along his shaft, and then stepped up behind the quarterback.
“Guess what this is, princess,” Bryce said, rubbing his knob against that slick slit, spreading Finn’s folds with his cockhead.
“Oh, God, is that what I think it is?” Finn panted, planting both feet on the floor and widening his stance. He bent farther, bracing his hands against the bench, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge. “You...you can’t do this to me. I’m a guy.”
“At the moment, your pussy would beg to differ,” Bryce said, pressing his cockhead against Finn’s virgin channel. The big man mewled like a kitten, shaking with need as his new body betrayed him, overwhelmed by the sensitivity of his new flesh. “You want it, don’t you?” Bryce asked, teasing that quivering hole, starting to push in, then pulling back. “Ask for it, princess. Beg for it.”
“Yes...yes, please,” Finn whimpered. “Give it to me.”
“Give you what, princess?”
“Your cock!” Finn all but shouted. “Put your cock in me, please!”
“Fuck, this is muy caliente,” Miguel whispered, reminding Bryce that he and Oliver were still there. Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Miguel.
“Film this, will you? I want a video of me popping his cherry.”
Bryce waited until Miguel gave him the nod, and then he pushed in, his cock squeezed by Finn’s tight channel. He met a momentary resistance, but a forceful thrust tore through the hymen. Finn cried out, his body shaking as Bryce slid in to the hilt.
“How does that feel, princess?” Bryce asked, grabbing Finn’s chiseled hips and holding himself deep in the quarterback’s pussy.
“B-big,” Finn panted. “You’re so big. I-I had no idea it would feel so good.”
“Yes, you’re hungry for cock, aren’t you, little princess,” Bryce said, reveling in this new power. It made his head spin, having Finn at his mercy. He began to pump his hips, pulling back until he almost slipped out, then thrusting hard, his balls slapping against Finn’s slick mound.
“Oh! Oh, fuck! I’m cumming!” Finn cried, his passage clenching around Bryce’s cock, waves of orgasm shuddering through him. Curious, Bryce glanced beneath Finn, but there was no semen on the floor and his cock was rock hard. Apparently, that was a pussy-only orgasm. Bryce pounded him harder, until he was panting and shaking. “Wh-what’s happening? I feel like I’m gonna cum again.”
Bryce laughed through gritted teeth, fighting against his own impending climax.
“Don’t you know, women can have multiple orgasms?” he asked. “Let me guess, you’re a ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’ kind of guy.”
“Oh! Oh, God! Oh, fuck!” Finn shouted, his vaginal muscles gripping Bryce like a fist, bringing him to the most intense climax of his life. He drove deep into Finn, his balls trying to turn themselves inside out as he emptied his load. Groaning softly, he withdrew, staggering back as Finn’s knees buckled and he collapsed, catching himself on the bench.
Bryce turned to Miguel and Oliver, a lazy, sated smile on his face.
“So, who’s next? Or do you guys still want to leave?”
Miguel shoved the phone into Oliver’s hands, fumbling with his zipper as he rushed to get his jeans down.
“Hold on, why do you get to go next?” Oliver asked.
“Because it’s your turn to hold the camera,” Miguel answered, like it couldn’t be more obvious.
“But I thought you were straight,” Oliver argued.
“Duh—pussy,” Miguel said, trying to elbow Oliver out of the way.
Oliver pushed back, refusing to move. “Uh, hello? He’s got a dick.”
“Boys, boys, no need to fight,” Bryce said, zipping up and tugging his shirt down. “Our princess has enough holes for everyone. Oliver, you prefer ass anyway, right?”
“Forget it,” Finn panted, struggling to get to his feet. His legs still looked a little wobbly. “Nobody is fucking me in the ass.”
“Oh, well, in that case, we’ll be sure to tag you in that video of you begging for my cock,” Bryce said, reaching for the phone. “Do you want to see it, or should I just post it?”
“Fuck you!” Finn shouted, his face red as his gaze darted to each of them in turn. “Fuck you all!” He looked like he was going to cry.
“Yeah, that’s the plan, princess,” Bryce said. He went into the coach’s office and came out pushing a plush, leather office chair. “Have a seat, Miguel.”
Miguel looked confused for a moment, then the light of realization dawned in his eyes. He dropped his jeans and sat in the chair, squirming a little to rub his bare ass on the buttery-soft leather.
“Ven aqui, princess,” Miguel said, one hand gliding up and down his hard cock. He had a nice dick, both long and thick, and unlike Bryce and most of the guys he’d been with, Miguel was uncut, his dark foreskin covering a bulbous knob. He crooked his finger at Finn. “Come here.”
Finn balked, but Bryce gave him an encouraging shove, pushing him onto Miguel’s lap. The chair groaned beneath their weight as Finn straddled Miguel and sank down onto his cock, Finn’s back arching as Miguel filled his slippery tunnel.
“Mmm, magnifica,” Miguel murmured, his hands cupping Finn’s tits, kneading and squeezing the mounds of flesh. He bowed his head, lips capturing the taut nub of a nipple, and Finn moaned, rocking his hips and riding Miguel’s cock.
“We’re running out of battery,” Oliver said, handing Bryce the phone. He slid his tight black jeans down around his thighs, and Bryce was shocked to see a metal ring piercing the head of Oliver’s cock. Oliver caught him staring and gave his cock a slow stroke. “Like it? My birthday present to myself.”
“Didn’t it hurt?” Bryce asked, cringing a little at the thought.
Oliver shrugged. “A bit, but the added sensitivity has more than made up for it. Hey, you don’t have any lube, do you?”
“Are you kidding?” Bryce asked, looking down where Miguel and Finn’s bodies were joined. “The princess is dripping like a faucet. Use that.”
“It’s not as silky as a quality lube,” Oliver complained, coating his fingers in Finn’s juices. He slicked his cockhead and guided his pierced knob between Finn’s muscular ass cheeks, rubbing up and down over Finn’s tight hole. Finn froze, his mouth open, helpless little gasps escaping him as Miguel continued to suckle and tease his sensitive nipples.
Oliver eased into him, a slight frown creasing his brow as he concentrated. Bryce could see Finn tense, resisting, but it was futile. Oliver slid inside, filling Finn’s back passage, and forcing a breathless moan from his lips. Oliver leaned against Finn’s back and whispered in his ear.
“Don’t be scared, princess,” he said. “Being fucked in the ass doesn’t make you queer. Unless it feels good, of course.”
The look of panic on Finn’s face was priceless and it was all Bryce could do not to laugh out loud. Oliver was just fucking with him. Enjoying anal sex had very little to do with sexual orientation and everything to do with the sheer number of nerves located in and around the anus. It was simple biology, but something the die-hard homophobes couldn’t get past.
“This is even better than I imagined,” Bryce said, crouching down beside the chair to get the perfect angle. He filmed Oliver’s cock sliding slowly out, and then driving back in, Finn’s body bucking with each deep thrust. Miguel finally managed to pry his lips away from Finn’s tits, and he planted his feet firmly against the floor and raised his hips, thrusting up into Finn’s hot, wet pussy.
“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Finn shouted, digging his fingers into the back of the chair as he bucked and writhed between the two men. He sagged, panting, shuddering with the echoes of his orgasm, but within moments, he was arching again, desperate moans filling the locker room.
Bryce’s phone flashed the low battery warning and he reluctantly put it away, his hand rubbing his growing erection through his jeans as he watched his friends fuck Finn nearly senseless. The quarterback came at least twice more before Miguel arched his back, his face twisted in a grimace of ecstasy as he filled Finn’s pussy. He slumped, flushed and sweaty, his glasses fogged over, holding Finn’s hips while Oliver pounded into Finn’s ass. Finn gasped, a look of bewilderment on his face as he cried out, cumming again as Oliver slammed into him and dumped his load.
All three of them looked dazed as they uncoupled, Finn taking a staggering step toward his locker. Bryce caught him by the arm and pulled him back.
“We’re not done yet, princess,” he said.
“Oh, come on,” Finn groaned. “I can’t cum again, please.”
“We’ll see about that,” Bryce said, motioning for Miguel to get out of the chair. He pushed Finn down into the soft leather and dropped his jeans again. Finn practically sobbed as Bryce raised his long, muscular legs, hooking Finn’s ankles over his shoulders. With a glance at the clock on the wall, Bryce wasted no time plunging deep into Finn’s pussy, making him gasp and arch. Their hour was almost up. Finn was still as hot and tight at the first thrust, his muscular walls contracting and squeezing Bryce’s cock as Bryce fucked him hard and fast.
“Oh, God, not again,” Finn gasped, his tits bouncing as he bucked and shivered, a look of exquisite agony racing over his features. Feeling more then a little devious, Bryce reached down and grasped Finn’s cock, jerking him industriously as he continued to pound Finn’s pussy. Finn howled, clawing at the arms of the chair, as his cock erupted, striping his chest with strings of glistening pearls. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, his chin thumping against his chest.
“Oh, shit, you killed him,” Oliver gasped, but Bryce could see the rapid rise and fall of Finn’s chest. He was just unconscious. His own climax approaching, Bryce pulled out and stroked his slick cock, shooting his load onto Finn, thick strings dangling from the arrogant jock’s hair and nose.
Exhausted but extremely satisfied, Bryce put his clothes back in order and took out his phone one last time. He just hoped he had enough battery left.
“You probably don’t remember how this happened,” he said, filming Finn passed out in the chair. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we can do it again any time, and we will unless you start being a helluva lot nicer to all the freaks and queers and nerds that you think aren’t worth your time. Remember that.”
He shut off the video and went to Finn’s locker, pulling Finn’s phone out of his bag. After unlocking it with Finn’s thumb print, he texted the video to Finn’s number, and then put it back. With big, dopey smiles on their faces, they fled the locker room, slipping back out through the fence and hurrying down the street.
“Gracias, mi amigo,” Miguel said, clapping Bryce heartily on the back. “That was fucking amazing!”
“Yeah, man, thanks for sharing your spell book with us,” Oliver said.
“Thanks for believing me,” Bryce said. “I know it wasn’t easy. There’s just one more thing I need to ask you.” He stopped, regarding them with a grave expression, but he couldn’t keep a straight face for long. He grinned broadly. “Who should we do next?”
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Chapter by
alex_izeri · 22 Dec 2023 -
Morning-after regret and all kinds of awkwardness await Eddie before he even has his first cup of coffee. As he and Nick embark on an epic quest to clean his basement, he discovers several things his grandfather kept hidden, including a strange old ring.
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We all jumped as a peal of thunder crackled through the bathroom and someone pounded on the glass stall door.
“Let’s go, Dork,” Azir barked. “Time’s up.”
“Oh, c’mon. Just five more minutes,” Dwerk whined. “Please?”
“No! Get you ass out here right now!” He sounded like he was ready to spit brimstone. I gathered my mental energy and gave the imp a shove. The room spun around me and I grabbed onto the nearest thing, which was Nick. I could feel him trembling, his thin frame tense. I let go and backed away, my own body suddenly shaking. Quickly, I shut off the water and shoved open the stall door, stepping out onto the bath mat and grabbing for a towel. It was then that I realized that Azir had not left yet. He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and a fearsome scowl on his face as I hastily wrapped the towel around my waist.
“Well?” he asked. “Anything to report?”
I glanced down at Dwerk, the little imp cowering behind Azir’s legs. Should I tell him? I certainly had plenty to complain about, and Azir had made it sound like there would be dire consequences for Dwerk if he broke the rules. But did I really want him to be punished? After a moment, I shook my head. “Nope, everything went fine. And I’m sure he’ll tell you the same thing.”
“I don’t give a shit what he has to say,” Azir said, kicking backward and sending Dwerk squealing across the bedroom.
“Boy, you’re in a bad mood,” I said, grabbing a second towel and handing it in to Nick. “Did your appointment cancel on you?”
Azir snarled, hellfire dancing in his orange eyes. “I wish he had. The pious bastard led me on for over an hour, and then announced that my temptations had only brought him closer to the church and renewed his faith in You-Know-Who.” And just in case I didn’t know who, he pointed up at the ceiling.
“What, you can’t say God?” I asked.
“Of course I can,” he snapped. “It’s just when a demon says it, it tends to draw a lot of unwanted attention. Now, I have to go explain this waste of an evening to my superior. Come, Twat, we’re leaving.”
“Hey, you’re supposed to tell me about—” But they were already gone, leaving the faint scent of sulfur in the air. I’d have to be sure to pin him down and get my answers out of him before I agreed to anything next time.
A noise in the shower stall behind me reminded me that Nick was still in there, and I remembered the sight of him, frightened and shaking, my hand holding him against the wall, my body preparing to rape him, my lips telling him the most terrible things...I didn’t know what to say, but the room was suddenly too small, with not enough air. I fled into the bedroom, leaving wet footprints on the carpet as I quickly dried myself and pulled on my pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.
What was I going to do about Nick? I had to say something to him. I had to tell him that those were not my words, that I had tried to stop Dwerk...except that I hadn’t. I could have kicked him out, but I hesitated. How could I admit that? How could I tell him that I hadn’t been willing to forfeit two hours to save him? I heard him clear his throat and I turned.
“Nick, I—”
“It’s okay, Eddie, I know,” he said, standing in the doorway wearing just a towel. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he looked a lot better, the bruises gone, his skin a healthy, natural color. I was so busy staring at him, it took a moment to realize what he had said.
“Know what?” I asked.
“That you didn’t say those things,” Nick said. “I could tell he was just trying to torment you. That’s an imp’s thing, you know. They get off on tormenting souls.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said, “but I should have stopped him sooner.”
“Why? He was right—that’s what an incubus is for.”
“Not when it’s my body that’s doing it,” I said, running my fingers back through my wet hair. “Look, are you okay?”
“Oh, sure, never better,” he said, but I wasn’t sure I could believe him. “I’m still hungry, but as you can see...” He turned a slow circle, letting me look at his body. “I got enough energy to repair the damage that had been done.”
“You can do that?”
“Of course. I’m not flesh and blood like you, but I’m not made of ether like Azir and Dwerk, either. I’m made of lust and pleasure, I guess. Speaking of which...” He began to walk toward me, his hips swaying suggestively. “We could finish what the imp started, if you feel up to it, that is.” He reached out toward me, but I stumbled back, almost falling onto the bed.
“Actually, it’s been a long day,” I said, stepping around the foot of the bed and backing away. “I’m sure you must be exhausted—”
“Not really,” Nick said with a smirk. “I have great endurance, as you might have noticed.”
“Um, yeah, okay. Well, I don’t, so I’m going to go to bed. There’s a guest room just down the hall. Let me get you some clean sheets—”
“That’s okay, I can find them,” Nick said, heading for the door. I could tell he was disappointed, but I just couldn’t get involved with a demon, not even casually. After a left, I waited a moment and then locked my bedroom door. I didn’t think he would do anything to me, but I had only met him a few hours ago, for crying out loud! Was I insane? I was starting to wonder.
I straightened up, putting my clothes and bedspread in the hamper. The blanket had a big cum stain on it. I was going to have to set some rules about using a towel from now on. I got the spare comforter out of the top of the closet and turned out the lights. Settling myself into bed, I stared out into the darkness for a long time, my thoughts circling around and around, but always returning to Nick. What was I going to do with him?
~*~*~*~
I woke to sunlight streaming in around the edge of the curtains, but after thinking about Nick for half the night, I was still tired. Good thing it was Saturday. I started to roll over and pull the covers up over my head, but moving made my asshole hurt, which reminded me of what happened last night, and there was no going back to sleep after that. Slowly, I rolled out of bed, discovering aches in my arms and shoulders and red abrasions on my wrists where Dwerk had fought against the restraints. My lower back was sore, as well as my thighs, like I had overdone a new workout...which I supposed was an apt description of the night’s events.
Walking stiffly, I made my way into the bathroom and took care of my morning business, then grabbed my robe off the back of the door and hobbled out into the hall. I paused outside Nick’s room and considered checking on him, but the thing that had kept me awake could wait until after I had a cup of coffee.
I had no idea that my asshole was involved in something like walking down the stairs, but each step was a breath-catching reminder that I had been ridden hard last night. I guess I just wasn’t cut out for anal sex. When I finally reached the bottom, I actually breathed a sigh of relief and used my sleeve to wipe away the cold sweat on my brow.
I made a bee-line for the coffee maker, adding water and grabbing one of those coffee pods out of the cupboard. While I waited for the machine to work its magic, I leaned my elbows on the counter and stared out the kitchen window, out over my backyard.
“Um...good morning,” Nick said behind me, making me jump. I straightened up and turned to face him. He was wearing the clothes I had given him, my morning paper tucked under his arm, clearly read and refolded.
“Morning,” I said. “You want some coffee?”
Nick shook his head. “Thanks, but I don’t drink coffee.”
“I might have some tea or cocoa in the cupboard,” I said. “I could look.”
“Thank you, but I don’t drink. At all. Or eat.” He seemed embarrassed by the confession, like he didn’t want to be reminded that he was different.
“Sorry, I forgot you’re a demon,” I said. The coffee maker began spitting out that hot, sweet nectar and I breathed deep of the bitter aroma. I let the last drop fall and picked up my cup, cradling the warmth to my chest as I blew across the dark liquid. I savored the first sip and sighed. Then I realized Nick was just standing there, watching me, a hungry look on his face. I cleared by throat. “So, how did you sleep? Was the bed comfortable enough?”
“Demon’s don’t sleep, either,” he said, tearing his gaze away.
“Oh, right,” I said, then I frowned. “What did you do all night?”
Demons might not eat or sleep, but they could definitely blush, his face turning red. “I looked around your house a little. I found some books and magazines to read. I figured out how to turn on the TV. And I spent a lot of time thinking about you.” He seemed like he wanted to say more, but I cut him off.
“I thought a lot about you, too,” I said, “and I think you should leave.”
He looked like I had slapped him. “Why? What did I do wrong? It’s because of the shower, isn’t it? I won’t act like that again, I promise. Whatever they do to me, I’ll act like I enjoy it. Just please, don’t make me leave.”
“No! No, that’s not it at all,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and you don’t have to pretend to enjoy anything. That’s why you have to go, don’t you see? It’s not safe for you here. Tonight, Azir will show up with another horny demon who will do God only knows what to you—”
“I know,” Nick said. “It’s perfect. The demons get entertained, your debt gets paid, and I get to feed on sex. Everyone wins.”
I shook my head, though I found it hard to form a reasonable argument. He was right. “I don’t like it,” I said finally. “What if the next one is even worse? What if they hurt you?”
“You won’t let them,” Nick said. “I know if Azir hadn’t interrupted, you would have stopped the imp. And you don’t need to worry about me so much. I’m a demon, I can handle the rough stuff. Just like you, apparently.” He gave me a suggestive smirk, but I wasn’t finding the pain in my ass all the amusing.
“Well, I hope you handle it better than I did,” I said, taking my coffee and hobbling toward the table.
“Oh, shit!” Nick gasped. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m walking like this for the fun of it,” I replied. I’m a little grumpy in the morning under the best circumstances, and this definitely wasn’t.
“But- but you said—No, you didn’t, he did. Damn it! How could I be such an idiot?” He seemed so genuinely distraught, I was tempted to tell him it was all right. Before I could say anything, however, he rushed across the room and grabbed me, turning me to face the counter. I quickly set down my cup before it spilled.
“What are you—”
Nick bent me forward, until my chest was practically resting on the fake granite surface and my butt stuck out. He flipped up my robe and grabbed the waistband of my pajamas, pulling them down to my thighs.
“Whoa—Hey!” I said, trying to straighten up, but he held me down. He was very strong. My heart began to pound.
“Just relax,” Nick said, his hand cool against my bare ass. “This won’t hurt.” He positioned his hand along my ass, the tip of his middle finger brushing against the back of my balls and his thumb resting in the dimple at the top of my crack. He leaned against me as his breathing grew harsh and ragged. Then I felt a strange heat radiating from his hand, pulsing with the beat of my heart, a soothing warmth that spread up into my body. After a moment he drew back and I quickly jerked up my pajamas.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded as I spun around. I was shocked to see him pale and trembling, his brow gleaming with a sheen of sweat. “Are you all right? What did you do?”
He shrugged and staggered back over to where he’d dropped the paper. “Being an incubus isn’t all bad,” he said as he disappeared into the living room. I didn’t know what he’d meant until I picked up my coffee and took a step toward the table. The pain in my ass was completely gone.
Once I finished my coffee and felt more or less human again, I felt bad for being grumpy at him. None of this was his fault. And he had fixed whatever damage he’d done, at great personal cost, from the look of it. I put my cup into the sink and poked my head into the living room. He was slumped on the sofa, looking at the paper, but I didn’t think he was actually reading it.
“Are you okay?” I asked, stepping into the room. He glanced at me, then turned back to the paper.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
“Yeah, thanks. Look, I...” I have never been good at apologizing, especially when I’m in the wrong, but it felt important that I set things right between us. “I’m sorry for snapping at you this morning. You didn’t do anything to deserve it.”
“The hell I didn’t,” Nick said, folding the paper haphazardly and setting it aside. “I hurt you. And I was an idiot to believe anything that imp told me. Did you even want to have sex with me?”
“Honestly? No.” Nick looked like he’d been slapped again and I scrambled for an explanation. “It’s not personal, though. It’s not that I didn’t want to have sex with you, it’s that I’ve never had sex with any guy before—” Nick groaned and covered his face with his hands.
“Great, I raped a straight guy.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” I said. “Maybe I wouldn’t have chosen to do it, but I did tell Dwerk where the lube was. He didn’t know. And I wouldn’t call myself straight, either. A chicken-shit who’s never found the courage to explore his desires, yes, but straight? Not by a long shot. So don’t feel bad. You didn’t do anything that I wasn’t willing to let happen, okay?”
“I guess,” he said, lowering his hands. He looked over at me, standing there in my pajamas and robe. “Am I going to make you late for work?”
I chuckled. “Probably, but not today. It’s Saturday.”
“Oh. I bet you have plans,” he said. “Hanging out with your friends. Or dinner with your girlfriend. Don’t worry, I’ll just watch TV and stay out of trouble. You go ahead.”
“Thanks, but I don’t really have a lot of friends that I hang out with, and my girlfriend and I broke up a while ago.”
He tried to act nonchalant, but I could tell he was relieved. “So, what are going to do today, then?”
“Well, I had thought about cleaning out the basement, but if there’s something you’d rather do—”
“That sounds great,” Nick said. “I’ve never cleaned out a basement before. Can I help?”
“Sure, why not?” I said with a chuckle. “Let me grab some breakfast and change my clothes, and we can get started.”
Half an hour later, Nick followed me down the narrow basement steps, the old boards creaking beneath our feet. At the bottom, I turned on the bare, harsh light bulb and revealed the massive pile of boxes that contained the artifacts of my grandfather’s life.
“Wow, that’s a lot of stuff,” Nick said. “What is it all?”
“I don’t even know,” I said, lifting one dusty flap and peeking into the nearest box. It looked like clothes. “My parents helped me pack up the house and bring everything down here, but I think it was pretty full of stuff when we started. I think the idea was to have a garage sale when the weather got nicer – my grandfather died in the winter – but then we all just got busy and it never happened.”
“All right, so where do we start?” Nick asked, looking around.
“I have no idea,” I said said, regarding the mountain of boxes. There were so many. It would take me a dozen trips to the local thrift store to get rid of it all, if there was even anything worth donating. It might all be rat chewed and roach infested. Oh, God, what if I had rats down there? I would have to get traps and poison and—
“Okay, how about we look though this one, then?” Nick suggested, pulling a box off the top of the stack. He set it on the stairs behind us. “We can sort it into three piles – stuff to keep, stuff to give away, and stuff to throw away.”
“Yeah, that would work,” I said, shaking off the feeling of being paralyzed. Sometimes I had trouble breaking a large job down into manageable tasks, and I just got overwhelmed and would end up not doing anything. But one box was not too much, especially with Nick’s help. We lifted the box flaps, peering over it like archaeologists opening a tomb. The stale smell of old sweat wafted up and I wrinkled my nose.
“Hey, look at this neat hat,” Nick said, pulling a battered gray fedora out of the box. I couldn’t remember my grandfather ever wearing a hat, so it must have been up in the closet or something. Nick gave it a shake and looked inside, checking for spiders, maybe. I would have. Then he settled the hat on his head, tugging the brim down and grinning as he peered out from under it at me.
“That looks good on you,” I said. “You should keep it.” Then I realized that might give him the wrong idea.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” he said, but he didn’t take it off.
“Sure you can,” I said. “I’m going to give most of this crap away anyway. It might as well go to you. Maybe we can find you some jeans and a coat, too. You know, for when you leave.”
“Right. Good idea,” he said, but he tilted his head down so the brim of the hat hid his face from me. I felt kind of lousy for bringing it up, but it wasn’t like he thought he was living with me, right? He couldn’t think that. We barely knew each other.
We sorted through the clothes in the box, but found nothing that would fit either of us. Everything was in decent condition, though, and I was sure the thrift store would be glad to have it. After we packed it all back in the box, Nick grabbed it and headed upstairs without a word. He’d been very quiet since I mentioned him leaving, but his mistaken assumption was hardly my fault.
The first box had gone quickly enough, so I grabbed another and set it on the stairs. Inside, I found an assortment of men’s toiletries—a razor, a brush and comb, a bottle of cologne, even an old toothbrush. The toothbrush went straight into the trash bag. I gave the cologne a tentative sniff, expecting to be flooded with memories of my grandfather—they say smell is the most evocative sense, after all—but I got nothing. It smelled really good, kind of like wood and light musk, but it did not remind me of grandpa. Maybe he never wore it.
Setting the bottle aside to keep, I dug back into the box, pulling out a small plastic container with a snap on lid. As I pried the lid off, I expected to find a used bar of soap, or even grandpa’s dentures. Instead, I found a wadded up handkerchief. Curious, I peeled back the corners of the yellowed cloth to reveal an old gold coin, a pair of diamond studded cuff links, and a gold ring.
“Holy crap,” I breathed. The coin was heavy. If it was really gold it had to be worth a fortune. Same with the jewelry. Suddenly, I was very glad I’d decided to look through everything before taking it to the thrift store. “Hey, Nick, come see what I found!” I called up the stairs as I picked up the ring and examined the band. I didn’t see any marks stamped inside it, which meant it could be fake, but it seemed rather heavy for a cheap metal.
“What is it?” Nick asked, his footsteps thumping on the stairs above me.
“Check it out,” I said, trying the ring on my little finger. It was too big, so I slid it onto my ring finger, where it fit perfectly. As it settled in place, the metal quickly warming against my skin, there was a flash that lit up the darkest corners of the basement, and I heard Nick gasp.
“What did you do?” he asked, hurrying down the stairs.
“Nothing,” I said, blinking hard as green-gray ghosts drifted across my vision. “What was that?”
“Your demon mark,” he replied, grabbing my hand and examining my palm. “Something set it off—wait, where’s you get this ring? You weren’t wearing it when I left, were you?”
“No, it was in this box,” I said. “Why? Do you think it did something?”
“I don’t know,” he said, frowning. “Maybe you should take it off until we figure out what’s going on.”
“Good idea,” I said. I tried to slide the ring off, but it was stuck. I pulled and twisted and even spit on my finger, but it refused to budge. It didn’t seem that tight—my finger wasn’t turning purple or growing cold—it just wouldn’t come off. “Maybe some oil or dish soap,” I said, stepping past Nick and heading up the stairs. He followed me into the kitchen and hovered, shifting nervously as I drizzled dish washing liquid onto my finger.
“What if that doesn’t work?” he asked.
“Relax, it’s going to work,” I said, his fussing doing little to ease my own anxiety. What if it didn’t come off? Should I call the fire department and have them cut it off? Could I even let them into the house with Nick there? Was he still pumping out pheromones?
I rubbed at the ring, trying to work the soap underneath the band. I didn’t need to worry about the fire department. This was going to work.
Suddenly, the kitchen was filled with the sound of rushing wind. I looked out the window, expecting to see a tornado bearing down on the house, but the trees were still and calm.
“Holy shit!” Nick gasped and I turned toward him as he scrambled back. A black, swirling cloud had materialized in the middle of my kitchen, rolling and billowing as it flickered with red flashes of light. I just stared, my mouth hanging open, as the cloud coalesced into the figure of a man. It looked like a man, anyway, but I had a sneaking suspicion that what I was looking at wasn’t human.
As the last of the cloud evaporated, the figure turned toward me and my eyes widened. He was gorgeous! His skin had a warm, middle-eastern hue that made me think of sun and sand and wealthy sheiks living in exotic palaces. I knew very little about that part of the world, obviously. But I didn’t need to be a world traveler to appreciate his thick, dark hair, his pale, hazel eyes, outlined with bold, black eyeliner, his full, expressive lips that curved into a smile that made my knees weak.
“What is your wish, Master?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth and musical, his accent making my heart skip a beat. It took a moment for his words to actually sink in.
“Wait, what?” I asked. “Did you call me Master?”
“Oh, this is just fucking great,” Nick said from the other side of the kitchen, scowling at the stranger. “He’s a fucking genie.”1 / 1Loading...Loading...- We all jumped as a peal of thunder crackled through the bathroom and someone pounded on the glass stall door.
“Let’s go, Dork,” Azir barked. “Time’s up.”
“Oh, c’mon. Just five more minutes,” Dwerk whined. “Please?”
“No! Get you ass out here right now!” He sounded like he was ready to spit brimstone. I gathered my mental energy and gave the imp a shove. The room spun around me and I grabbed onto the nearest thing, which was Nick. I could feel him trembling, his thin frame tense. I let go and backed away, my own body suddenly shaking. Quickly, I shut off the water and shoved open the stall door, stepping out onto the bath mat and grabbing for a towel. It was then that I realized that Azir had not left yet. He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and a fearsome scowl on his face as I hastily wrapped the towel around my waist.
“Well?” he asked. “Anything to report?”
I glanced down at Dwerk, the little imp cowering behind Azir’s legs. Should I tell him? I certainly had plenty to complain about, and Azir had made it sound like there would be dire consequences for Dwerk if he broke the rules. But did I really want him to be punished? After a moment, I shook my head. “Nope, everything went fine. And I’m sure he’ll tell you the same thing.”
“I don’t give a shit what he has to say,” Azir said, kicking backward and sending Dwerk squealing across the bedroom.
“Boy, you’re in a bad mood,” I said, grabbing a second towel and handing it in to Nick. “Did your appointment cancel on you?”
Azir snarled, hellfire dancing in his orange eyes. “I wish he had. The pious bastard led me on for over an hour, and then announced that my temptations had only brought him closer to the church and renewed his faith in You-Know-Who.” And just in case I didn’t know who, he pointed up at the ceiling.
“What, you can’t say God?” I asked.
“Of course I can,” he snapped. “It’s just when a demon says it, it tends to draw a lot of unwanted attention. Now, I have to go explain this waste of an evening to my superior. Come, Twat, we’re leaving.”
“Hey, you’re supposed to tell me about—” But they were already gone, leaving the faint scent of sulfur in the air. I’d have to be sure to pin him down and get my answers out of him before I agreed to anything next time.
A noise in the shower stall behind me reminded me that Nick was still in there, and I remembered the sight of him, frightened and shaking, my hand holding him against the wall, my body preparing to rape him, my lips telling him the most terrible things...I didn’t know what to say, but the room was suddenly too small, with not enough air. I fled into the bedroom, leaving wet footprints on the carpet as I quickly dried myself and pulled on my pajama bottoms and a T-shirt.
What was I going to do about Nick? I had to say something to him. I had to tell him that those were not my words, that I had tried to stop Dwerk...except that I hadn’t. I could have kicked him out, but I hesitated. How could I admit that? How could I tell him that I hadn’t been willing to forfeit two hours to save him? I heard him clear his throat and I turned.
“Nick, I—”
“It’s okay, Eddie, I know,” he said, standing in the doorway wearing just a towel. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he looked a lot better, the bruises gone, his skin a healthy, natural color. I was so busy staring at him, it took a moment to realize what he had said.
“Know what?” I asked.
“That you didn’t say those things,” Nick said. “I could tell he was just trying to torment you. That’s an imp’s thing, you know. They get off on tormenting souls.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said, “but I should have stopped him sooner.”
“Why? He was right—that’s what an incubus is for.”
“Not when it’s my body that’s doing it,” I said, running my fingers back through my wet hair. “Look, are you okay?”
“Oh, sure, never better,” he said, but I wasn’t sure I could believe him. “I’m still hungry, but as you can see...” He turned a slow circle, letting me look at his body. “I got enough energy to repair the damage that had been done.”
“You can do that?”
“Of course. I’m not flesh and blood like you, but I’m not made of ether like Azir and Dwerk, either. I’m made of lust and pleasure, I guess. Speaking of which...” He began to walk toward me, his hips swaying suggestively. “We could finish what the imp started, if you feel up to it, that is.” He reached out toward me, but I stumbled back, almost falling onto the bed.
“Actually, it’s been a long day,” I said, stepping around the foot of the bed and backing away. “I’m sure you must be exhausted—”
“Not really,” Nick said with a smirk. “I have great endurance, as you might have noticed.”
“Um, yeah, okay. Well, I don’t, so I’m going to go to bed. There’s a guest room just down the hall. Let me get you some clean sheets—”
“That’s okay, I can find them,” Nick said, heading for the door. I could tell he was disappointed, but I just couldn’t get involved with a demon, not even casually. After a left, I waited a moment and then locked my bedroom door. I didn’t think he would do anything to me, but I had only met him a few hours ago, for crying out loud! Was I insane? I was starting to wonder.
I straightened up, putting my clothes and bedspread in the hamper. The blanket had a big cum stain on it. I was going to have to set some rules about using a towel from now on. I got the spare comforter out of the top of the closet and turned out the lights. Settling myself into bed, I stared out into the darkness for a long time, my thoughts circling around and around, but always returning to Nick. What was I going to do with him?
~*~*~*~
I woke to sunlight streaming in around the edge of the curtains, but after thinking about Nick for half the night, I was still tired. Good thing it was Saturday. I started to roll over and pull the covers up over my head, but moving made my asshole hurt, which reminded me of what happened last night, and there was no going back to sleep after that. Slowly, I rolled out of bed, discovering aches in my arms and shoulders and red abrasions on my wrists where Dwerk had fought against the restraints. My lower back was sore, as well as my thighs, like I had overdone a new workout...which I supposed was an apt description of the night’s events.
Walking stiffly, I made my way into the bathroom and took care of my morning business, then grabbed my robe off the back of the door and hobbled out into the hall. I paused outside Nick’s room and considered checking on him, but the thing that had kept me awake could wait until after I had a cup of coffee.
I had no idea that my asshole was involved in something like walking down the stairs, but each step was a breath-catching reminder that I had been ridden hard last night. I guess I just wasn’t cut out for anal sex. When I finally reached the bottom, I actually breathed a sigh of relief and used my sleeve to wipe away the cold sweat on my brow.
I made a bee-line for the coffee maker, adding water and grabbing one of those coffee pods out of the cupboard. While I waited for the machine to work its magic, I leaned my elbows on the counter and stared out the kitchen window, out over my backyard.
“Um...good morning,” Nick said behind me, making me jump. I straightened up and turned to face him. He was wearing the clothes I had given him, my morning paper tucked under his arm, clearly read and refolded.
“Morning,” I said. “You want some coffee?”
Nick shook his head. “Thanks, but I don’t drink coffee.”
“I might have some tea or cocoa in the cupboard,” I said. “I could look.”
“Thank you, but I don’t drink. At all. Or eat.” He seemed embarrassed by the confession, like he didn’t want to be reminded that he was different.
“Sorry, I forgot you’re a demon,” I said. The coffee maker began spitting out that hot, sweet nectar and I breathed deep of the bitter aroma. I let the last drop fall and picked up my cup, cradling the warmth to my chest as I blew across the dark liquid. I savored the first sip and sighed. Then I realized Nick was just standing there, watching me, a hungry look on his face. I cleared by throat. “So, how did you sleep? Was the bed comfortable enough?”
“Demon’s don’t sleep, either,” he said, tearing his gaze away.
“Oh, right,” I said, then I frowned. “What did you do all night?”
Demons might not eat or sleep, but they could definitely blush, his face turning red. “I looked around your house a little. I found some books and magazines to read. I figured out how to turn on the TV. And I spent a lot of time thinking about you.” He seemed like he wanted to say more, but I cut him off.
“I thought a lot about you, too,” I said, “and I think you should leave.”
He looked like I had slapped him. “Why? What did I do wrong? It’s because of the shower, isn’t it? I won’t act like that again, I promise. Whatever they do to me, I’ll act like I enjoy it. Just please, don’t make me leave.”
“No! No, that’s not it at all,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and you don’t have to pretend to enjoy anything. That’s why you have to go, don’t you see? It’s not safe for you here. Tonight, Azir will show up with another horny demon who will do God only knows what to you—”
“I know,” Nick said. “It’s perfect. The demons get entertained, your debt gets paid, and I get to feed on sex. Everyone wins.”
I shook my head, though I found it hard to form a reasonable argument. He was right. “I don’t like it,” I said finally. “What if the next one is even worse? What if they hurt you?”
“You won’t let them,” Nick said. “I know if Azir hadn’t interrupted, you would have stopped the imp. And you don’t need to worry about me so much. I’m a demon, I can handle the rough stuff. Just like you, apparently.” He gave me a suggestive smirk, but I wasn’t finding the pain in my ass all the amusing.
“Well, I hope you handle it better than I did,” I said, taking my coffee and hobbling toward the table.
“Oh, shit!” Nick gasped. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m walking like this for the fun of it,” I replied. I’m a little grumpy in the morning under the best circumstances, and this definitely wasn’t.
“But- but you said—No, you didn’t, he did. Damn it! How could I be such an idiot?” He seemed so genuinely distraught, I was tempted to tell him it was all right. Before I could say anything, however, he rushed across the room and grabbed me, turning me to face the counter. I quickly set down my cup before it spilled.
“What are you—”
Nick bent me forward, until my chest was practically resting on the fake granite surface and my butt stuck out. He flipped up my robe and grabbed the waistband of my pajamas, pulling them down to my thighs.
“Whoa—Hey!” I said, trying to straighten up, but he held me down. He was very strong. My heart began to pound.
“Just relax,” Nick said, his hand cool against my bare ass. “This won’t hurt.” He positioned his hand along my ass, the tip of his middle finger brushing against the back of my balls and his thumb resting in the dimple at the top of my crack. He leaned against me as his breathing grew harsh and ragged. Then I felt a strange heat radiating from his hand, pulsing with the beat of my heart, a soothing warmth that spread up into my body. After a moment he drew back and I quickly jerked up my pajamas.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded as I spun around. I was shocked to see him pale and trembling, his brow gleaming with a sheen of sweat. “Are you all right? What did you do?”
He shrugged and staggered back over to where he’d dropped the paper. “Being an incubus isn’t all bad,” he said as he disappeared into the living room. I didn’t know what he’d meant until I picked up my coffee and took a step toward the table. The pain in my ass was completely gone.
Once I finished my coffee and felt more or less human again, I felt bad for being grumpy at him. None of this was his fault. And he had fixed whatever damage he’d done, at great personal cost, from the look of it. I put my cup into the sink and poked my head into the living room. He was slumped on the sofa, looking at the paper, but I didn’t think he was actually reading it.
“Are you okay?” I asked, stepping into the room. He glanced at me, then turned back to the paper.
“I’m fine. Are you?”
“Yeah, thanks. Look, I...” I have never been good at apologizing, especially when I’m in the wrong, but it felt important that I set things right between us. “I’m sorry for snapping at you this morning. You didn’t do anything to deserve it.”
“The hell I didn’t,” Nick said, folding the paper haphazardly and setting it aside. “I hurt you. And I was an idiot to believe anything that imp told me. Did you even want to have sex with me?”
“Honestly? No.” Nick looked like he’d been slapped again and I scrambled for an explanation. “It’s not personal, though. It’s not that I didn’t want to have sex with you, it’s that I’ve never had sex with any guy before—” Nick groaned and covered his face with his hands.
“Great, I raped a straight guy.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” I said. “Maybe I wouldn’t have chosen to do it, but I did tell Dwerk where the lube was. He didn’t know. And I wouldn’t call myself straight, either. A chicken-shit who’s never found the courage to explore his desires, yes, but straight? Not by a long shot. So don’t feel bad. You didn’t do anything that I wasn’t willing to let happen, okay?”
“I guess,” he said, lowering his hands. He looked over at me, standing there in my pajamas and robe. “Am I going to make you late for work?”
I chuckled. “Probably, but not today. It’s Saturday.”
“Oh. I bet you have plans,” he said. “Hanging out with your friends. Or dinner with your girlfriend. Don’t worry, I’ll just watch TV and stay out of trouble. You go ahead.”
“Thanks, but I don’t really have a lot of friends that I hang out with, and my girlfriend and I broke up a while ago.”
He tried to act nonchalant, but I could tell he was relieved. “So, what are going to do today, then?”
“Well, I had thought about cleaning out the basement, but if there’s something you’d rather do—”
“That sounds great,” Nick said. “I’ve never cleaned out a basement before. Can I help?”
“Sure, why not?” I said with a chuckle. “Let me grab some breakfast and change my clothes, and we can get started.”
Half an hour later, Nick followed me down the narrow basement steps, the old boards creaking beneath our feet. At the bottom, I turned on the bare, harsh light bulb and revealed the massive pile of boxes that contained the artifacts of my grandfather’s life.
“Wow, that’s a lot of stuff,” Nick said. “What is it all?”
“I don’t even know,” I said, lifting one dusty flap and peeking into the nearest box. It looked like clothes. “My parents helped me pack up the house and bring everything down here, but I think it was pretty full of stuff when we started. I think the idea was to have a garage sale when the weather got nicer – my grandfather died in the winter – but then we all just got busy and it never happened.”
“All right, so where do we start?” Nick asked, looking around.
“I have no idea,” I said said, regarding the mountain of boxes. There were so many. It would take me a dozen trips to the local thrift store to get rid of it all, if there was even anything worth donating. It might all be rat chewed and roach infested. Oh, God, what if I had rats down there? I would have to get traps and poison and—
“Okay, how about we look though this one, then?” Nick suggested, pulling a box off the top of the stack. He set it on the stairs behind us. “We can sort it into three piles – stuff to keep, stuff to give away, and stuff to throw away.”
“Yeah, that would work,” I said, shaking off the feeling of being paralyzed. Sometimes I had trouble breaking a large job down into manageable tasks, and I just got overwhelmed and would end up not doing anything. But one box was not too much, especially with Nick’s help. We lifted the box flaps, peering over it like archaeologists opening a tomb. The stale smell of old sweat wafted up and I wrinkled my nose.
“Hey, look at this neat hat,” Nick said, pulling a battered gray fedora out of the box. I couldn’t remember my grandfather ever wearing a hat, so it must have been up in the closet or something. Nick gave it a shake and looked inside, checking for spiders, maybe. I would have. Then he settled the hat on his head, tugging the brim down and grinning as he peered out from under it at me.
“That looks good on you,” I said. “You should keep it.” Then I realized that might give him the wrong idea.
“Oh, I couldn’t,” he said, but he didn’t take it off.
“Sure you can,” I said. “I’m going to give most of this crap away anyway. It might as well go to you. Maybe we can find you some jeans and a coat, too. You know, for when you leave.”
“Right. Good idea,” he said, but he tilted his head down so the brim of the hat hid his face from me. I felt kind of lousy for bringing it up, but it wasn’t like he thought he was living with me, right? He couldn’t think that. We barely knew each other.
We sorted through the clothes in the box, but found nothing that would fit either of us. Everything was in decent condition, though, and I was sure the thrift store would be glad to have it. After we packed it all back in the box, Nick grabbed it and headed upstairs without a word. He’d been very quiet since I mentioned him leaving, but his mistaken assumption was hardly my fault.
The first box had gone quickly enough, so I grabbed another and set it on the stairs. Inside, I found an assortment of men’s toiletries—a razor, a brush and comb, a bottle of cologne, even an old toothbrush. The toothbrush went straight into the trash bag. I gave the cologne a tentative sniff, expecting to be flooded with memories of my grandfather—they say smell is the most evocative sense, after all—but I got nothing. It smelled really good, kind of like wood and light musk, but it did not remind me of grandpa. Maybe he never wore it.
Setting the bottle aside to keep, I dug back into the box, pulling out a small plastic container with a snap on lid. As I pried the lid off, I expected to find a used bar of soap, or even grandpa’s dentures. Instead, I found a wadded up handkerchief. Curious, I peeled back the corners of the yellowed cloth to reveal an old gold coin, a pair of diamond studded cuff links, and a gold ring.
“Holy crap,” I breathed. The coin was heavy. If it was really gold it had to be worth a fortune. Same with the jewelry. Suddenly, I was very glad I’d decided to look through everything before taking it to the thrift store. “Hey, Nick, come see what I found!” I called up the stairs as I picked up the ring and examined the band. I didn’t see any marks stamped inside it, which meant it could be fake, but it seemed rather heavy for a cheap metal.
“What is it?” Nick asked, his footsteps thumping on the stairs above me.
“Check it out,” I said, trying the ring on my little finger. It was too big, so I slid it onto my ring finger, where it fit perfectly. As it settled in place, the metal quickly warming against my skin, there was a flash that lit up the darkest corners of the basement, and I heard Nick gasp.
“What did you do?” he asked, hurrying down the stairs.
“Nothing,” I said, blinking hard as green-gray ghosts drifted across my vision. “What was that?”
“Your demon mark,” he replied, grabbing my hand and examining my palm. “Something set it off—wait, where’s you get this ring? You weren’t wearing it when I left, were you?”
“No, it was in this box,” I said. “Why? Do you think it did something?”
“I don’t know,” he said, frowning. “Maybe you should take it off until we figure out what’s going on.”
“Good idea,” I said. I tried to slide the ring off, but it was stuck. I pulled and twisted and even spit on my finger, but it refused to budge. It didn’t seem that tight—my finger wasn’t turning purple or growing cold—it just wouldn’t come off. “Maybe some oil or dish soap,” I said, stepping past Nick and heading up the stairs. He followed me into the kitchen and hovered, shifting nervously as I drizzled dish washing liquid onto my finger.
“What if that doesn’t work?” he asked.
“Relax, it’s going to work,” I said, his fussing doing little to ease my own anxiety. What if it didn’t come off? Should I call the fire department and have them cut it off? Could I even let them into the house with Nick there? Was he still pumping out pheromones?
I rubbed at the ring, trying to work the soap underneath the band. I didn’t need to worry about the fire department. This was going to work.
Suddenly, the kitchen was filled with the sound of rushing wind. I looked out the window, expecting to see a tornado bearing down on the house, but the trees were still and calm.
“Holy shit!” Nick gasped and I turned toward him as he scrambled back. A black, swirling cloud had materialized in the middle of my kitchen, rolling and billowing as it flickered with red flashes of light. I just stared, my mouth hanging open, as the cloud coalesced into the figure of a man. It looked like a man, anyway, but I had a sneaking suspicion that what I was looking at wasn’t human.
As the last of the cloud evaporated, the figure turned toward me and my eyes widened. He was gorgeous! His skin had a warm, middle-eastern hue that made me think of sun and sand and wealthy sheiks living in exotic palaces. I knew very little about that part of the world, obviously. But I didn’t need to be a world traveler to appreciate his thick, dark hair, his pale, hazel eyes, outlined with bold, black eyeliner, his full, expressive lips that curved into a smile that made my knees weak.
“What is your wish, Master?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth and musical, his accent making my heart skip a beat. It took a moment for his words to actually sink in.
“Wait, what?” I asked. “Did you call me Master?”
“Oh, this is just fucking great,” Nick said from the other side of the kitchen, scowling at the stranger. “He’s a fucking genie.”No more chapters.