Hello! I'm Alex, a 30-something non-binary (they/them) person who loves reading and writing erotic fantasy stories.
Joined: 30 Apr 2023
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.
There are many common-sense rules to live by, and I just managed to break three of them in one go: never wear black when walking at night, never cross against a red light, and never make a deal with the devil. So, there I am, lying in the street, the taste of blood in my mouth as I struggle to draw breath, and this guy walks up and looks down at me. He seemed like a normal guy, except for the absolute lack of any kind of human compassion in his eyes. He stared at me like I was some bug he couldn’t care less about stepping on.
“Boy, are you in a pickle or what?” he said, crouching down beside me. “That is a lot of blood. And I’m no expert on human anatomy, but I don’t think your arms and legs are supposed to bend like that. But I guess bouncing off a windshield, a telephone pole, and the street will do that to you.” He leaned closer, a flickering light dancing in the depths of his dark eyes. “You’re dying, Eddie. Can you feel it? Your life fading with each desperate beat of your heart?”
I wasn’t sure which was more frightening, that I could feel it, or that he knew my name.
“Are you ready to die, Eddie?” he asked. “In about two minutes, your heart will stop and your brain will cease to function, and you will find out what, if anything, waits for you on the other side. Are you ready for that? Or do you want to live?”
I tried to answer, but it came out as a sob, bloody bubbles flecking my lips.
“I can save you,” the strange man whispered, holding his hand out to me. “All you have to do is take my hand and give me your soul.”
My eyes widened, a shiver of terror racing through my body. The only creatures who collected souls were demons.
He smiled, warm and charming. “Relax, Eddie, I won’t take your soul as long as you’re using it. Think of this like a lien. You keep your soul until you die, and then it comes to us, assuming you haven’t earned it back, of course. What do you say? Better think quick—time is running out.”
I could feel the blood pooling in my chest, restricting my heart and filling my lungs. I didn’t want to die, but losing my soul to a demon would be worse. However, if there was a chance to earn it back, then I could have it both ways. I could live and keep my soul.
Summoning every ounce of strength that remained in my broken body, I raised my hand, a scream of agony escaping my bloody lips as the splinters of bone protruding through my flesh shifted.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the demon said, grabbing my hand. Instantly, the pain vanished and I gasped as he pulled my to my feet. I looked down at myself in shock. The blood was gone. No bones were broken. It was like I’d never been hit. I turned to look at the car that had struck me, the hood crumpled where it had come to rest against a tree, steam issuing from the engine. I could see the driver, face down in the deflated airbag and not moving.
“Are they all right?” I asked, taking an unsteady step toward the car.
“Eddie,” the demon said, placing an arm around my shoulders and turning me away. “That guy nearly killed you. Who cares how he’s doing?”
I shrugged his arm off. “I do.”
The demon sighed. “Of course you do. He’ll be fine. A bit of a concussion and some bruised ribs. Oh, and one hell of a hangover. He’s more than a little drunk. Does that affect your concern for his well-being?”
I hesitated. “Maybe a little.”
“Good. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” the demon said with a broad grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Hang on,” I said as he turned to leave. “You said I could earn my soul back. How do I do that?”
“Why should I tell you?” he replied. “If you don’t succeed, we get your soul, so how is it in my best interest to help you?”
He had me there. I could only watch, helpless, as he walked away. He only took a few steps, though, before he paused and glanced back, his flickering gaze traveling slowly down my body.
“You’re a handsome guy,” he said, making me shudder and wonder, how far would I go to save my soul? However, his next question surprised me. “How do you feel about demonic possession?”
“Excuse me? Is there more than one way to feel about demonic possession?”
My savior laughed, a rich, melodious sound. “Let me rephrase. What do you know about it?”
I shrugged. “The usual, I guess. A demon takes over a person and makes them do terrible things, with the intent to steal their soul.”
He made an ambiguous gesture with his hand. “Close enough.” Up the street, a siren screamed to life, the night lighting up with red and blue lights as an ambulance finally appeared. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we have to answer a lot of tedious questions.”
I felt awkward leaving the scene of an accident, but I supposed he was right. If I stayed, I would only have to lie, or risk being tossed into the psych ward. After all, only crazy people claimed to have been saved from death by a demon. We hurried down the street and around a corner.
“Okay, here’s the quick and dirty version,” the demon said. “True possessions are very rare, because there are few demons powerful enough to inhabit an unwilling human. I’m not, and I’m a third tier demon, so you get the idea. So, most ‘possessions’ are either lunatics or sociopaths working on their insanity defense. However, even a lowly sixth tier imp can inhabit a willing body temporarily. The hard part is finding someone willing to share.”
He gave me a pointed look and I stopped dead as I realized what he was hinting at.
“Wait, I’m supposed let you possess me?” I asked.
“Of course not,” he said. “You’re going to let a bunch of my demon lackeys possess you. You see,” he continued as I stared at him in horror, “when a demon takes corporeal form, the experience is severely limited. We can see and hear, and have the most basic sense of touch, but no smell or taste, and we don’t feel pleasure or pain. And the worst part is this.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down to mid-thigh.
“Oh, my God,” I gasped, my eyes widening at the sight of his smooth, featureless groin. He had no cock, no balls, nothing.
“Yeah, I’ve always suspected this was His doing,” the demon grumbled, pulling his pants back up. “So, Eddie, I’m sure you imagine how appealing it would be for one of us to take a joyride in a sexy hot rod like you. I’d like to offer the use of your body to a few of my most dedicated underlings. Perhaps it will even motivate the slackers to do better.”
“The use of my...to do what with?” I asked.
“Oh, you know,” he said. “Eat pizza and ice cream, get a massage, have sex. Nothing illegal, nothing that will harm you or anyone else. I’ll only offer this privilege to responsible demons, ones that I know will follow my rules.”
“So...so, I just...let them in and then wake up in a couple of days in bed with someone I’ve never met before?”
“Wow, you are so quick to think the worst of us,” the demon said, shaking his head. “You would be completely aware of everything that was happening. You could tune it out, of course, if you wanted to. And you could take back control at any time. However, booting one of my demons after less than...let’s say two hours, won’t count toward erasing our claim on your soul.”
“So, if I agree to this, I get my soul back?” I asked. The demon nodded. “How many is a few?”
“Oh, just a hundred or so,” he said. I started to shake my head, to tell him he was crazy, but he didn’t give me the chance. “I know it sounds like a lot, but think about it this way—two hours a day, and in less than four months, your soul will be yours again, free and clear. It seems like a fair trade to me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not your body they’ll be abusing,” I grumbled.
“Very true,” the demon said. “But then, I don’t have a body, just this worthless rental unit, so...” He stopped walking and regarded me with his flickering eyes. “Say, how about a quick test drive? That way, you can see what it would be like before you decide.”
I hesitated. “Who would I be letting in? You?”
“Sure. Why not? I did save your life, after all.”
This was such a bad idea. “Okay, but not here. I want to be home for this.”
The demon smiled and gestured behind me. I turned, surprised to see that we were standing on the sidewalk in front of my house. I hadn’t even noticed where we were walking.
“Shall we?” the demon asked, motioning for me to lead the way.
I swallowed hard. “First, I need to know one thing. What’s your name?”
The demon narrowed his eyes. “Why? Do you think you can control me if you know my name?”
“No, I’d just like to know what to call you,” I said. “Is that true?”
“Sort of,” he replied evasively. “A sufficiently powerful witch who has trained extensively in the dark arts and demonology could use a demon’s name to control them, so we tend to be a little careful with such information.”
“Understandable, I guess,” I said, shivering as a gust of wind bit through my thin jacket. I headed for the house, digging my keys out of my pocket as I climbed the steps up to the porch. “I’m not a witch, nor do I know any witches, but if you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay. I’d like to call you something, though. Do you have a nickname? What do your friends call you?” I stopped to unlock my front door.
He snorted, and I realized just how close he was, standing right behind me. “You really don’t know anything about demons, do you? I don’t have any friends. But if you insist, you can call me...Azir.”
“Azir will work,” I said, shoving open the door and hurrying inside to put a bit of distance between us. He followed, shutting the door and turning on the entryway light. “So, can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?”
“Maybe in a minute, once I’m able to taste it,” Azir said, backing me up against the wall. I suddenly couldn’t breathe as the demon’s hands pressed against my chest, his face inches from my own. He smiled, slow and amused. “This is a lot like sex, Eddie—you have to relax and let me in.” Azir leaned closer, his breath cold against my cheek as he whispered, “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”
I didn’t know if I could trust him. Part of me was screaming that he was a fucking demon, of course he couldn’t be trusted, but for some reason, I seemed to remember hearing that demons couldn’t lie. They could trick and deceive, but they could not tell an outright lie. Or maybe that was just something I saw on television. Either way, I had only two choices, and neither one appealed.
I could tell him to get lost, and spend the rest of my life knowing that my soul was doomed to hell, or I could surrender and let him have me. After a moment, I took a bracing breath and closed my eyes. As I exhaled, I made myself relax, trying to trust that, even if a demon couldn’t be trusted, at the very least he wouldn’t do anything to make me call off the deal.
A wave of dizziness washed over me, followed by a warm pressure in my chest, like I had swallowed hot soup too fast. As it passed, my eyes opened and I was surprised to find Azir gone. I started to look around, to see where he had gone, but my head wouldn’t turn. I tried to raise my arm, but it wouldn’t move. I was no longer in control of my body.
My body gasped and my hands rose up to touch my face, fingers tracing my lips and sliding back through my hair.
“Oh, this is amazing,” Azir said in my voice, my lips moving without without my consent. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. He stepped away from the wall, my hands wandering down my body, feeling the texture of my jacket. He shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor behind him. I wanted to pick it up and hang it in the closet, but he walked away, wandering through the house just touching stuff. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
“You must live alone,” he murmured, picking up a bottle of ketchup and a hunk of cheese wrapped in a plastic baggie. He opened the ketchup and sniffed the contents, then licked the inside of the lid. He made an appreciative noise and set it down, then unwrapped the cheese and nibbled on the corner.
There’s beer in the crisper drawer, I thought to myself.
“Really? Thanks,” Azir said, setting the cheese down and opening the drawer.
Wait, you can hear me? I asked.
“Hear might not be the right word,” he replied, picking up a bottle of my favorite IPA and twisting off the cap. “I know what you’re thinking, the same way you do. It’s kind of weird.” He took a long drink from the bottle. “Ahhhh, I’ve always wondered what beer tasted like. Now I know.” He set the bottle on the counter and headed out of the room.
So, are you just going to make a mess of my house? I asked. That’s not what I expected from a demonic possession.
“Would you rather I find some virgin to disembowel?” Azir asked with a grin as he started up the stairs.
No! Of course not, I said. I guess I just thought you’d do more.
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” the demon said. He entered my bedroom and pawed through my closet, smelling the fabric softener and rubbing his cheek against one of my softer shirts. His gaze lingered on the bed, but he walked into the adjoining bathroom instead, tasting the toothpaste and mouthwash. “Mmmm, that’s better than the beer,” he said and took another sip.
You’re supposed to spit that out, I told him. Don’t go making me sick.
He grunted his displeasure, but leaned over the sink and spat out the mouthwash. He sniffed my deodorant and aftershave, and then opened the door of the shower stall.
Nothing in here is edible, I said, hoping to prevent him from tasting the soap. He just turned on the water, letting the spray patter against my hand as he adjusted the temperature. Stepping back from the stall, he began to remove my clothes. What are you doing?
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Azir said, my voice muffled as he stripped my shirt off over my head. Steam began to fill the room and I cringed inwardly, imagining the black mold beginning to grow in the corners.
Could you at least turn on the exhaust fan? I asked. He obliged, flipping the switch before shoving my jeans and boxers down around my ankles and stepping out of them. Nude, he admired my reflection in the mirror. It was bizarre: even though it was my body, my face, I felt like I was looking at a stranger.
The demon dressed in my flesh stepped into the shower, groaning low and long as the hot water cascaded over my skin.
“Azrael was right,” he said, my voice echoing in the enclosed space. “This is positively sinful.” He turned a slow circle, savoring the pounding spray, and I realized with no small amount of horror that my body was reacting to his enjoyment. I was getting a hard-on.
Okay, test drive is over, get outta my body, I said.
“Make me,” he moaned, running slippery hands down my smooth, flat abs, toward my stiffening cock. That’s when I knew he had tricked me. I had forgotten to ask how to get him out.
Begone, demon! I thought forcefully, imagining myself physically shoving him out of my body. He just laughed.
“That tickles,” he said. “So does this.” He faced the shower, letting the spray dance over my hard cock. “What a surprisingly sensitive organ,” he said, wrapping a hand around my shaft and giving it a long, slow stroke. I felt so dirty, so violated.
Stop it, please, I begged him. I never agreed to let you use my body for this.
“Did you really think all I was going to do was taste your food and sniff your deodorant?” he asked. “This is part of the deal and you better get used to the idea. Now just relax and enjoy the ride, and don’t pretend like you’ve never done this before.”
It’s different when I do it, I responded, my thought-voice small and defeated. What had I done? I was at the mercy of a being of pure evil, trapped inside my own body until God only knew when. What if he never gave it back? Was this his plan all along?
“Your fussing in there is very distracting,” Azir said. “I told you to relax. When I’m done, you can have your body back, don’t worry. And by the way, that whole mental push-thing you did, that would have kicked a lesser demon clear to the curb. I just happen to be strong enough to resist. Not strong enough to come in uninvited, but once I’m in...Oh, fuck, that feels so good.” He began to stroke my cock faster, the slick sound of skin on skin filling the small space.
I wanted to tune this out, but I had forgotten to ask how to do that, either. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave him alone with my body. I could feel the pleasure gathering in my groin, hot and heavy, my breath coming faster as he neared climax. At least it would be over soon.
Azir gasped, grunting as my muscles tightened, my balls drawing up as I dumped my load. He staggered, reaching out to steady himself against the wall.
“Wow, I had no idea,” he panted. He rinsed the cum from my skin, then shut off the water. Stepping out onto the bath mat, he grabbed a towel off the shelf in the corner and began to dry my body.
Satisfied now? I asked. Can I have my body back?
“I said when I’m done,” Azir replied, dropping the damp towel on the floor with my discarded clothes. He walked into the bedroom stark naked, the air raising goosebumps on my wet skin. “I don’t suppose you have any toys in here?”
Absolutely not! I said, but if I’d had control of my body, my gaze would have darted to the nightstand beside the bed. I guess Azir could feel it, because he made a beeline for the little drawer. That’s not mine, I said as he pulled out the drawer.
He chuckled as he picked up the slender, bright blue, cock-shaped vibrator. “I suppose the previous tenant left this behind and you just couldn’t throw it out in case they came back for it. Look, how thoughtful. They left some lube behind, too.”
My girlfriend bought those, I said.
“Aww, were you really that bad in bed, that she needed battery-operated assistance?”
No, she wanted to use it on me, I snapped. I said no and she wouldn’t stop pestering me about it. We had a fight and I called her a twisted pervert and she left. That was six months ago. Okay, maybe I had over-reacted to her request, but she was just too aggressive. I had never even thought about doing something like that, and I needed time to get used to the idea. Would I have come around eventually? I don’t know. I kept the stuff, didn’t I? Even though I never touched it after she called me a prude and walked out.
“Boy, oh boy, my night just keeps getting better,” Azir said, grabbing the bottle of lubricant and flopping down across my bed. He stretched and writhed, rubbing my bare skin against the cool, soft comforter. “I don’t know which I like more, your sense of taste, or your sense of touch. There’s something so sensual about all this tactile stimulation.”
I hadn’t really thought about what he’d told me before, about how a demon’s senses were muted or absent, but his obvious enjoyment of something as simple as rubbing against a blanket made me consider what an empty existence it must be. No scent, no flavor, no pleasure. Considering that, I could hardly blame him for masturbating a little. Or a lot, for that matter. He could have been doing things a whole lot worse.
Go ahead, I thought with a sigh. I won’t pretend to like it, but I also won’t complain.
“Really?” Azir said, going still as he raised my head.
Yeah, just...just don’t hurt me, okay? As soon as I thought the words, I wished I could take it back. Admitting my weakness and fear to a demon was probably the dumbest thing I could have done in that situation. But again, Azir surprised me.
“I won’t, I promise,” he said, and I was again left to wonder if demons were capable of lying. He sat up, leaning back against my padded headboard, my knees bent and legs spread. That alone would have been enough to make me blush. I wasn’t a prude, but I was certainly more modest than that.
The crinkle of plastic filled the silent bedroom as Azir removed the seal from the bottle of lubricant. I watched nervously as he drizzled the thick, clear gel onto my fingers. He reached down between my legs and began to smear the gel between my cheeks, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he rubbed a small circle around my opening. I will admit, it felt better than I had expected.
Azir took his time preparing me, though I didn’t know if that was for his benefit, or mine. I supposed it didn’t matter. He added more lube to his fingers and slipped two of them inside of me, spreading the gel and stretching that tight ring of muscle. That felt good, too, although I did my best to hide that fact from him.
Finally, he slathered the blue silicone surface of the vibrator with lube until it was slick and shiny, stroking it like a real cock as the fat, rubber balls at the base jiggled. My own cock was hard again, but Azir ignored it, reaching down behind my balls instead and guiding the tip of the vibrator to my opening.
“Oh, yes,” he moaned, heels digging into the bed as he pushed back against the headboard. “Oh, fuck, yes.” I couldn’t believe how easily that rubber cock slid into my asshole, my muscles gripping, pulling it deeper. It was a strange feeling, but nothing like I had expected. Azir eased it in about halfway before stopping to let us catch our breath.
That’s deep enough, right? I asked. He didn’t answer. Right?
“Tell me, Eddie,” he said, breathless, “if you had just one night to live, would you only go halfway?” I had no answer for him. I suppose after experiencing the full range of human senses, the thought of returning to his demonic existence must have been like facing death. Was I crazy, feeling pity for a damned demon?
After giving my body a minute to relax and adjust, Azir slid the vibrator in to the hilt, the soft, silicone balls squishing against my ass. I felt full in a way I had never imagined, that rubber cock snug inside of me, but I honestly didn’t see the appeal. Not until Azir turned on the vibrator.
He gasped, my body arching, as the cock began to buzz inside of us. “Oh, shit...Oh, fuck...” he panted, rocking my hips until he found just the right angle. The vibrator pressed against my prostate and I saw stars, my cock jerking as it grew rock hard. I had never felt anything so wonderful, so intensely pleasurable, the vibrations filling me with a deep, aching need to cum. If it had been me, I would have immediately jerked off, but Azir had other ideas.
Reaching up above my head, he grabbed onto the headboard, breath hissing between my teeth as he pressed down into the bed to keep the vibrator in place deep inside of me. My cock quivered, beads of precum leaking from the tip, tickling my sensitive flesh it trickled down the head, and I suddenly realized just how helpless I had let myself become. I couldn’t even stroke my own cock. I was completely at the mercy of this horny demon...and I had never felt more alive.
Oh, Azir, please… I begged, the pleasure nearly unbearable as my neglected cock throbbed with need. Just a single stoke would have finished me, but he dug my fingers into the headboard until my hands ached, my room echoing with his breathless cries.
“Almost...almost there...Come on...” he panted, my whole body shaking. I wanted to cum so bad I even tried shoving him out of me again. It didn’t do anything, except make him laugh. “Nice try. You almost got me with that one. Just hang on a little more. Oh...Oh, fuck, yes!”
I cried out with him as the climax thundered through us, my muscles contracting, drawing the vibrator deeper as my balls drew up. My cock jerked like a puppet on a string as we striped my comforter with long, satisfying strands of cum. I can honestly say it was the best orgasm of my life, up to that point. When it was finally over, the vibrations against my prostate became truly unbearable, even for him, and he quickly turned it off and gently slid it out.
Exhausted and trembling, he slouched against the headboard, my chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked after a minute. I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure how. He sighed. “All right, just like I promised, you can have your body back now.” I thought that might be an invitation to help him along, but before I could even try, I felt that dizziness again. I reached up and touched my head, then jerked my hand back and stared at it. I wiggled my fingers, relieved when they moved at my command.
Azir chuckled and I glanced beside me, where he lay stretched out on my bed, dressed in his jeans and T-shirt. I was still stark naked, of course, and I felt the heat rush to my face. Trying to salvage some scrap of my dignity, I got up and walked to the dresser, grabbing a clean pair of boxers to put on, but I could feel the lube between my cheeks. I needed a shower. Maybe several showers.
“Well?” Azir asked as I headed for the bathroom. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our time together, I do need an answer. Which will it be, your body or your soul?”
I busied myself with picking up the discarded clothes from the floor while I tried to come up with a third option, but there wasn’t one. I was well and truly fucked. I heard a noise and glanced up to find Azir standing in the bathroom doorway, watching me, a smug, sort of wistful smile on his face.
“What?” I demanded.
“I was just thinking,” he said, giving his head a slow shake. “I’m almost six thousand years old, and I can honestly say that this was the best night of my existence. Thank you, Eddie.”
“You’re welcome, I guess,” I grumbled grudgingly, but in a strange way, that was gratifying to hear. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I was imagining. “Do you promise that they won’t hurt me, or use me to hurt anyone else?”
“You have my word,” Azir said.
“And no more than one demon a day? I have a life, you know.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said with a slight smirk, as if he didn’t believe me. “Don’t worry, we can work around your busy schedule. Any other concerns?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Then do we have a deal?” There was a sick, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach as Azir held out his hand to me. This was such a bad idea, but I couldn’t lose my soul. Of the two, this was the better option. I hoped.
“Yeah, it’s a deal,” I said, shaking his hand. A rumble like thunder filled the room, accompanied by a flash of darkness, like the light suddenly dimmed, and I felt a sharp, hot pain in the palm of my hand. I jerked away from Azir as the smell of sulfur tainted the air. “What did you do?”
“It’s just a demon’s mark,” he said with a careless wave of his hand.
I looked down at my palm, my heart nearly stopping at the sight of a glowing pentagram flickering like a live coal beneath my skin. “This wasn’t part of the deal! How am I going to explain this?”
“Relax, would you?” Azir said. “Regular humans won’t be able to see it. It’s only detectable to demons and those touched by the dark arts.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I said, scowling at him. “What’s it for?”
“It’s proof of my claim on you,” Azir said, holding up a hand to forestall my next outraged protest, “and before you blow a gasket, it’s temporary. As soon as you pay your debt, it will disappear. But until then, it will serve as a warning to others that you belong to me.”
“I do not belong to you,” I said, my voice low. Azir just smiled, a flash of teeth that was both charming and sinister. Before I could say anything else, a column of fire surged up from the floor, engulfing Azir. It only lasted a moment, and when it disappeared, so did he.
Alone, I was suddenly hit by the magnitude of what I had done. I made a deal with a demon! I was damned, my soul destined for Hell unless I managed to earn it back, but doing so would probably corrupt me beyond redemption, anyway. I was completely fucked.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, closing my eyes, “what have I done?”
“Is that a rhetorical question, or do you really want to know?” The voice was soft and smooth, neither masculine nor feminine, and I looked up to find a person of indeterminate gender standing in the doorway. They had glossy black hair that fell in loose curls to their collar and pale blue eyes that were almost colorless. They wore long, flowing white robes under shiny silver and gold chain mail, with Roman-looking sandals on their feet. However, it was the iridescent glow and the giant white wings behind their back that nearly made my heart stop.
The angel gave me a reproachful look. “You are in a world of trouble, Edward.”
There are many common-sense rules to live by, and I just managed to break three of them in one go: never wear black when walking at night, never cross against a red light, and never make a deal with the devil. So, there I am, lying in the street, the taste of blood in my mouth as I struggle to draw breath, and this guy walks up and looks down at me. He seemed like a normal guy, except for the absolute lack of any kind of human compassion in his eyes. He stared at me like I was some bug he couldn’t care less about stepping on.
“Boy, are you in a pickle or what?” he said, crouching down beside me. “That is a lot of blood. And I’m no expert on human anatomy, but I don’t think your arms and legs are supposed to bend like that. But I guess bouncing off a windshield, a telephone pole, and the street will do that to you.” He leaned closer, a flickering light dancing in the depths of his dark eyes. “You’re dying, Eddie. Can you feel it? Your life fading with each desperate beat of your heart?”
I wasn’t sure which was more frightening, that I could feel it, or that he knew my name.
“Are you ready to die, Eddie?” he asked. “In about two minutes, your heart will stop and your brain will cease to function, and you will find out what, if anything, waits for you on the other side. Are you ready for that? Or do you want to live?”
I tried to answer, but it came out as a sob, bloody bubbles flecking my lips.
“I can save you,” the strange man whispered, holding his hand out to me. “All you have to do is take my hand and give me your soul.”
My eyes widened, a shiver of terror racing through my body. The only creatures who collected souls were demons.
He smiled, warm and charming. “Relax, Eddie, I won’t take your soul as long as you’re using it. Think of this like a lien. You keep your soul until you die, and then it comes to us, assuming you haven’t earned it back, of course. What do you say? Better think quick—time is running out.”
I could feel the blood pooling in my chest, restricting my heart and filling my lungs. I didn’t want to die, but losing my soul to a demon would be worse. However, if there was a chance to earn it back, then I could have it both ways. I could live and keep my soul.
Summoning every ounce of strength that remained in my broken body, I raised my hand, a scream of agony escaping my bloody lips as the splinters of bone protruding through my flesh shifted.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” the demon said, grabbing my hand. Instantly, the pain vanished and I gasped as he pulled my to my feet. I looked down at myself in shock. The blood was gone. No bones were broken. It was like I’d never been hit. I turned to look at the car that had struck me, the hood crumpled where it had come to rest against a tree, steam issuing from the engine. I could see the driver, face down in the deflated airbag and not moving.
“Are they all right?” I asked, taking an unsteady step toward the car.
“Eddie,” the demon said, placing an arm around my shoulders and turning me away. “That guy nearly killed you. Who cares how he’s doing?”
I shrugged his arm off. “I do.”
The demon sighed. “Of course you do. He’ll be fine. A bit of a concussion and some bruised ribs. Oh, and one hell of a hangover. He’s more than a little drunk. Does that affect your concern for his well-being?”
I hesitated. “Maybe a little.”
“Good. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” the demon said with a broad grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Hang on,” I said as he turned to leave. “You said I could earn my soul back. How do I do that?”
“Why should I tell you?” he replied. “If you don’t succeed, we get your soul, so how is it in my best interest to help you?”
He had me there. I could only watch, helpless, as he walked away. He only took a few steps, though, before he paused and glanced back, his flickering gaze traveling slowly down my body.
“You’re a handsome guy,” he said, making me shudder and wonder, how far would I go to save my soul? However, his next question surprised me. “How do you feel about demonic possession?”
“Excuse me? Is there more than one way to feel about demonic possession?”
My savior laughed, a rich, melodious sound. “Let me rephrase. What do you know about it?”
I shrugged. “The usual, I guess. A demon takes over a person and makes them do terrible things, with the intent to steal their soul.”
He made an ambiguous gesture with his hand. “Close enough.” Up the street, a siren screamed to life, the night lighting up with red and blue lights as an ambulance finally appeared. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we have to answer a lot of tedious questions.”
I felt awkward leaving the scene of an accident, but I supposed he was right. If I stayed, I would only have to lie, or risk being tossed into the psych ward. After all, only crazy people claimed to have been saved from death by a demon. We hurried down the street and around a corner.
“Okay, here’s the quick and dirty version,” the demon said. “True possessions are very rare, because there are few demons powerful enough to inhabit an unwilling human. I’m not, and I’m a third tier demon, so you get the idea. So, most ‘possessions’ are either lunatics or sociopaths working on their insanity defense. However, even a lowly sixth tier imp can inhabit a willing body temporarily. The hard part is finding someone willing to share.”
He gave me a pointed look and I stopped dead as I realized what he was hinting at.
“Wait, I’m supposed let you possess me?” I asked.
“Of course not,” he said. “You’re going to let a bunch of my demon lackeys possess you. You see,” he continued as I stared at him in horror, “when a demon takes corporeal form, the experience is severely limited. We can see and hear, and have the most basic sense of touch, but no smell or taste, and we don’t feel pleasure or pain. And the worst part is this.” He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down to mid-thigh.
“Oh, my God,” I gasped, my eyes widening at the sight of his smooth, featureless groin. He had no cock, no balls, nothing.
“Yeah, I’ve always suspected this was His doing,” the demon grumbled, pulling his pants back up. “So, Eddie, I’m sure you imagine how appealing it would be for one of us to take a joyride in a sexy hot rod like you. I’d like to offer the use of your body to a few of my most dedicated underlings. Perhaps it will even motivate the slackers to do better.”
“The use of my...to do what with?” I asked.
“Oh, you know,” he said. “Eat pizza and ice cream, get a massage, have sex. Nothing illegal, nothing that will harm you or anyone else. I’ll only offer this privilege to responsible demons, ones that I know will follow my rules.”
“So...so, I just...let them in and then wake up in a couple of days in bed with someone I’ve never met before?”
“Wow, you are so quick to think the worst of us,” the demon said, shaking his head. “You would be completely aware of everything that was happening. You could tune it out, of course, if you wanted to. And you could take back control at any time. However, booting one of my demons after less than...let’s say two hours, won’t count toward erasing our claim on your soul.”
“So, if I agree to this, I get my soul back?” I asked. The demon nodded. “How many is a few?”
“Oh, just a hundred or so,” he said. I started to shake my head, to tell him he was crazy, but he didn’t give me the chance. “I know it sounds like a lot, but think about it this way—two hours a day, and in less than four months, your soul will be yours again, free and clear. It seems like a fair trade to me.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not your body they’ll be abusing,” I grumbled.
“Very true,” the demon said. “But then, I don’t have a body, just this worthless rental unit, so...” He stopped walking and regarded me with his flickering eyes. “Say, how about a quick test drive? That way, you can see what it would be like before you decide.”
I hesitated. “Who would I be letting in? You?”
“Sure. Why not? I did save your life, after all.”
This was such a bad idea. “Okay, but not here. I want to be home for this.”
The demon smiled and gestured behind me. I turned, surprised to see that we were standing on the sidewalk in front of my house. I hadn’t even noticed where we were walking.
“Shall we?” the demon asked, motioning for me to lead the way.
I swallowed hard. “First, I need to know one thing. What’s your name?”
The demon narrowed his eyes. “Why? Do you think you can control me if you know my name?”
“No, I’d just like to know what to call you,” I said. “Is that true?”
“Sort of,” he replied evasively. “A sufficiently powerful witch who has trained extensively in the dark arts and demonology could use a demon’s name to control them, so we tend to be a little careful with such information.”
“Understandable, I guess,” I said, shivering as a gust of wind bit through my thin jacket. I headed for the house, digging my keys out of my pocket as I climbed the steps up to the porch. “I’m not a witch, nor do I know any witches, but if you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay. I’d like to call you something, though. Do you have a nickname? What do your friends call you?” I stopped to unlock my front door.
He snorted, and I realized just how close he was, standing right behind me. “You really don’t know anything about demons, do you? I don’t have any friends. But if you insist, you can call me...Azir.”
“Azir will work,” I said, shoving open the door and hurrying inside to put a bit of distance between us. He followed, shutting the door and turning on the entryway light. “So, can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?”
“Maybe in a minute, once I’m able to taste it,” Azir said, backing me up against the wall. I suddenly couldn’t breathe as the demon’s hands pressed against my chest, his face inches from my own. He smiled, slow and amused. “This is a lot like sex, Eddie—you have to relax and let me in.” Azir leaned closer, his breath cold against my cheek as he whispered, “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”
I didn’t know if I could trust him. Part of me was screaming that he was a fucking demon, of course he couldn’t be trusted, but for some reason, I seemed to remember hearing that demons couldn’t lie. They could trick and deceive, but they could not tell an outright lie. Or maybe that was just something I saw on television. Either way, I had only two choices, and neither one appealed.
I could tell him to get lost, and spend the rest of my life knowing that my soul was doomed to hell, or I could surrender and let him have me. After a moment, I took a bracing breath and closed my eyes. As I exhaled, I made myself relax, trying to trust that, even if a demon couldn’t be trusted, at the very least he wouldn’t do anything to make me call off the deal.
A wave of dizziness washed over me, followed by a warm pressure in my chest, like I had swallowed hot soup too fast. As it passed, my eyes opened and I was surprised to find Azir gone. I started to look around, to see where he had gone, but my head wouldn’t turn. I tried to raise my arm, but it wouldn’t move. I was no longer in control of my body.
My body gasped and my hands rose up to touch my face, fingers tracing my lips and sliding back through my hair.
“Oh, this is amazing,” Azir said in my voice, my lips moving without without my consent. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. He stepped away from the wall, my hands wandering down my body, feeling the texture of my jacket. He shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor behind him. I wanted to pick it up and hang it in the closet, but he walked away, wandering through the house just touching stuff. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
“You must live alone,” he murmured, picking up a bottle of ketchup and a hunk of cheese wrapped in a plastic baggie. He opened the ketchup and sniffed the contents, then licked the inside of the lid. He made an appreciative noise and set it down, then unwrapped the cheese and nibbled on the corner.
There’s beer in the crisper drawer, I thought to myself.
“Really? Thanks,” Azir said, setting the cheese down and opening the drawer.
Wait, you can hear me? I asked.
“Hear might not be the right word,” he replied, picking up a bottle of my favorite IPA and twisting off the cap. “I know what you’re thinking, the same way you do. It’s kind of weird.” He took a long drink from the bottle. “Ahhhh, I’ve always wondered what beer tasted like. Now I know.” He set the bottle on the counter and headed out of the room.
So, are you just going to make a mess of my house? I asked. That’s not what I expected from a demonic possession.
“Would you rather I find some virgin to disembowel?” Azir asked with a grin as he started up the stairs.
No! Of course not, I said. I guess I just thought you’d do more.
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” the demon said. He entered my bedroom and pawed through my closet, smelling the fabric softener and rubbing his cheek against one of my softer shirts. His gaze lingered on the bed, but he walked into the adjoining bathroom instead, tasting the toothpaste and mouthwash. “Mmmm, that’s better than the beer,” he said and took another sip.
You’re supposed to spit that out, I told him. Don’t go making me sick.
He grunted his displeasure, but leaned over the sink and spat out the mouthwash. He sniffed my deodorant and aftershave, and then opened the door of the shower stall.
Nothing in here is edible, I said, hoping to prevent him from tasting the soap. He just turned on the water, letting the spray patter against my hand as he adjusted the temperature. Stepping back from the stall, he began to remove my clothes. What are you doing?
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Azir said, my voice muffled as he stripped my shirt off over my head. Steam began to fill the room and I cringed inwardly, imagining the black mold beginning to grow in the corners.
Could you at least turn on the exhaust fan? I asked. He obliged, flipping the switch before shoving my jeans and boxers down around my ankles and stepping out of them. Nude, he admired my reflection in the mirror. It was bizarre: even though it was my body, my face, I felt like I was looking at a stranger.
The demon dressed in my flesh stepped into the shower, groaning low and long as the hot water cascaded over my skin.
“Azrael was right,” he said, my voice echoing in the enclosed space. “This is positively sinful.” He turned a slow circle, savoring the pounding spray, and I realized with no small amount of horror that my body was reacting to his enjoyment. I was getting a hard-on.
Okay, test drive is over, get outta my body, I said.
“Make me,” he moaned, running slippery hands down my smooth, flat abs, toward my stiffening cock. That’s when I knew he had tricked me. I had forgotten to ask how to get him out.
Begone, demon! I thought forcefully, imagining myself physically shoving him out of my body. He just laughed.
“That tickles,” he said. “So does this.” He faced the shower, letting the spray dance over my hard cock. “What a surprisingly sensitive organ,” he said, wrapping a hand around my shaft and giving it a long, slow stroke. I felt so dirty, so violated.
Stop it, please, I begged him. I never agreed to let you use my body for this.
“Did you really think all I was going to do was taste your food and sniff your deodorant?” he asked. “This is part of the deal and you better get used to the idea. Now just relax and enjoy the ride, and don’t pretend like you’ve never done this before.”
It’s different when I do it, I responded, my thought-voice small and defeated. What had I done? I was at the mercy of a being of pure evil, trapped inside my own body until God only knew when. What if he never gave it back? Was this his plan all along?
“Your fussing in there is very distracting,” Azir said. “I told you to relax. When I’m done, you can have your body back, don’t worry. And by the way, that whole mental push-thing you did, that would have kicked a lesser demon clear to the curb. I just happen to be strong enough to resist. Not strong enough to come in uninvited, but once I’m in...Oh, fuck, that feels so good.” He began to stroke my cock faster, the slick sound of skin on skin filling the small space.
I wanted to tune this out, but I had forgotten to ask how to do that, either. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave him alone with my body. I could feel the pleasure gathering in my groin, hot and heavy, my breath coming faster as he neared climax. At least it would be over soon.
Azir gasped, grunting as my muscles tightened, my balls drawing up as I dumped my load. He staggered, reaching out to steady himself against the wall.
“Wow, I had no idea,” he panted. He rinsed the cum from my skin, then shut off the water. Stepping out onto the bath mat, he grabbed a towel off the shelf in the corner and began to dry my body.
Satisfied now? I asked. Can I have my body back?
“I said when I’m done,” Azir replied, dropping the damp towel on the floor with my discarded clothes. He walked into the bedroom stark naked, the air raising goosebumps on my wet skin. “I don’t suppose you have any toys in here?”
Absolutely not! I said, but if I’d had control of my body, my gaze would have darted to the nightstand beside the bed. I guess Azir could feel it, because he made a beeline for the little drawer. That’s not mine, I said as he pulled out the drawer.
He chuckled as he picked up the slender, bright blue, cock-shaped vibrator. “I suppose the previous tenant left this behind and you just couldn’t throw it out in case they came back for it. Look, how thoughtful. They left some lube behind, too.”
My girlfriend bought those, I said.
“Aww, were you really that bad in bed, that she needed battery-operated assistance?”
No, she wanted to use it on me, I snapped. I said no and she wouldn’t stop pestering me about it. We had a fight and I called her a twisted pervert and she left. That was six months ago. Okay, maybe I had over-reacted to her request, but she was just too aggressive. I had never even thought about doing something like that, and I needed time to get used to the idea. Would I have come around eventually? I don’t know. I kept the stuff, didn’t I? Even though I never touched it after she called me a prude and walked out.
“Boy, oh boy, my night just keeps getting better,” Azir said, grabbing the bottle of lubricant and flopping down across my bed. He stretched and writhed, rubbing my bare skin against the cool, soft comforter. “I don’t know which I like more, your sense of taste, or your sense of touch. There’s something so sensual about all this tactile stimulation.”
I hadn’t really thought about what he’d told me before, about how a demon’s senses were muted or absent, but his obvious enjoyment of something as simple as rubbing against a blanket made me consider what an empty existence it must be. No scent, no flavor, no pleasure. Considering that, I could hardly blame him for masturbating a little. Or a lot, for that matter. He could have been doing things a whole lot worse.
Go ahead, I thought with a sigh. I won’t pretend to like it, but I also won’t complain.
“Really?” Azir said, going still as he raised my head.
Yeah, just...just don’t hurt me, okay? As soon as I thought the words, I wished I could take it back. Admitting my weakness and fear to a demon was probably the dumbest thing I could have done in that situation. But again, Azir surprised me.
“I won’t, I promise,” he said, and I was again left to wonder if demons were capable of lying. He sat up, leaning back against my padded headboard, my knees bent and legs spread. That alone would have been enough to make me blush. I wasn’t a prude, but I was certainly more modest than that.
The crinkle of plastic filled the silent bedroom as Azir removed the seal from the bottle of lubricant. I watched nervously as he drizzled the thick, clear gel onto my fingers. He reached down between my legs and began to smear the gel between my cheeks, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he rubbed a small circle around my opening. I will admit, it felt better than I had expected.
Azir took his time preparing me, though I didn’t know if that was for his benefit, or mine. I supposed it didn’t matter. He added more lube to his fingers and slipped two of them inside of me, spreading the gel and stretching that tight ring of muscle. That felt good, too, although I did my best to hide that fact from him.
Finally, he slathered the blue silicone surface of the vibrator with lube until it was slick and shiny, stroking it like a real cock as the fat, rubber balls at the base jiggled. My own cock was hard again, but Azir ignored it, reaching down behind my balls instead and guiding the tip of the vibrator to my opening.
“Oh, yes,” he moaned, heels digging into the bed as he pushed back against the headboard. “Oh, fuck, yes.” I couldn’t believe how easily that rubber cock slid into my asshole, my muscles gripping, pulling it deeper. It was a strange feeling, but nothing like I had expected. Azir eased it in about halfway before stopping to let us catch our breath.
That’s deep enough, right? I asked. He didn’t answer. Right?
“Tell me, Eddie,” he said, breathless, “if you had just one night to live, would you only go halfway?” I had no answer for him. I suppose after experiencing the full range of human senses, the thought of returning to his demonic existence must have been like facing death. Was I crazy, feeling pity for a damned demon?
After giving my body a minute to relax and adjust, Azir slid the vibrator in to the hilt, the soft, silicone balls squishing against my ass. I felt full in a way I had never imagined, that rubber cock snug inside of me, but I honestly didn’t see the appeal. Not until Azir turned on the vibrator.
He gasped, my body arching, as the cock began to buzz inside of us. “Oh, shit...Oh, fuck...” he panted, rocking my hips until he found just the right angle. The vibrator pressed against my prostate and I saw stars, my cock jerking as it grew rock hard. I had never felt anything so wonderful, so intensely pleasurable, the vibrations filling me with a deep, aching need to cum. If it had been me, I would have immediately jerked off, but Azir had other ideas.
Reaching up above my head, he grabbed onto the headboard, breath hissing between my teeth as he pressed down into the bed to keep the vibrator in place deep inside of me. My cock quivered, beads of precum leaking from the tip, tickling my sensitive flesh it trickled down the head, and I suddenly realized just how helpless I had let myself become. I couldn’t even stroke my own cock. I was completely at the mercy of this horny demon...and I had never felt more alive.
Oh, Azir, please… I begged, the pleasure nearly unbearable as my neglected cock throbbed with need. Just a single stoke would have finished me, but he dug my fingers into the headboard until my hands ached, my room echoing with his breathless cries.
“Almost...almost there...Come on...” he panted, my whole body shaking. I wanted to cum so bad I even tried shoving him out of me again. It didn’t do anything, except make him laugh. “Nice try. You almost got me with that one. Just hang on a little more. Oh...Oh, fuck, yes!”
I cried out with him as the climax thundered through us, my muscles contracting, drawing the vibrator deeper as my balls drew up. My cock jerked like a puppet on a string as we striped my comforter with long, satisfying strands of cum. I can honestly say it was the best orgasm of my life, up to that point. When it was finally over, the vibrations against my prostate became truly unbearable, even for him, and he quickly turned it off and gently slid it out.
Exhausted and trembling, he slouched against the headboard, my chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked after a minute. I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure how. He sighed. “All right, just like I promised, you can have your body back now.” I thought that might be an invitation to help him along, but before I could even try, I felt that dizziness again. I reached up and touched my head, then jerked my hand back and stared at it. I wiggled my fingers, relieved when they moved at my command.
Azir chuckled and I glanced beside me, where he lay stretched out on my bed, dressed in his jeans and T-shirt. I was still stark naked, of course, and I felt the heat rush to my face. Trying to salvage some scrap of my dignity, I got up and walked to the dresser, grabbing a clean pair of boxers to put on, but I could feel the lube between my cheeks. I needed a shower. Maybe several showers.
“Well?” Azir asked as I headed for the bathroom. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our time together, I do need an answer. Which will it be, your body or your soul?”
I busied myself with picking up the discarded clothes from the floor while I tried to come up with a third option, but there wasn’t one. I was well and truly fucked. I heard a noise and glanced up to find Azir standing in the bathroom doorway, watching me, a smug, sort of wistful smile on his face.
“What?” I demanded.
“I was just thinking,” he said, giving his head a slow shake. “I’m almost six thousand years old, and I can honestly say that this was the best night of my existence. Thank you, Eddie.”
“You’re welcome, I guess,” I grumbled grudgingly, but in a strange way, that was gratifying to hear. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as I was imagining. “Do you promise that they won’t hurt me, or use me to hurt anyone else?”
“You have my word,” Azir said.
“And no more than one demon a day? I have a life, you know.”
“I’m sure you do,” he said with a slight smirk, as if he didn’t believe me. “Don’t worry, we can work around your busy schedule. Any other concerns?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Then do we have a deal?” There was a sick, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach as Azir held out his hand to me. This was such a bad idea, but I couldn’t lose my soul. Of the two, this was the better option. I hoped.
“Yeah, it’s a deal,” I said, shaking his hand. A rumble like thunder filled the room, accompanied by a flash of darkness, like the light suddenly dimmed, and I felt a sharp, hot pain in the palm of my hand. I jerked away from Azir as the smell of sulfur tainted the air. “What did you do?”
“It’s just a demon’s mark,” he said with a careless wave of his hand.
I looked down at my palm, my heart nearly stopping at the sight of a glowing pentagram flickering like a live coal beneath my skin. “This wasn’t part of the deal! How am I going to explain this?”
“Relax, would you?” Azir said. “Regular humans won’t be able to see it. It’s only detectable to demons and those touched by the dark arts.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I said, scowling at him. “What’s it for?”
“It’s proof of my claim on you,” Azir said, holding up a hand to forestall my next outraged protest, “and before you blow a gasket, it’s temporary. As soon as you pay your debt, it will disappear. But until then, it will serve as a warning to others that you belong to me.”
“I do not belong to you,” I said, my voice low. Azir just smiled, a flash of teeth that was both charming and sinister. Before I could say anything else, a column of fire surged up from the floor, engulfing Azir. It only lasted a moment, and when it disappeared, so did he.
Alone, I was suddenly hit by the magnitude of what I had done. I made a deal with a demon! I was damned, my soul destined for Hell unless I managed to earn it back, but doing so would probably corrupt me beyond redemption, anyway. I was completely fucked.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, closing my eyes, “what have I done?”
“Is that a rhetorical question, or do you really want to know?” The voice was soft and smooth, neither masculine nor feminine, and I looked up to find a person of indeterminate gender standing in the doorway. They had glossy black hair that fell in loose curls to their collar and pale blue eyes that were almost colorless. They wore long, flowing white robes under shiny silver and gold chain mail, with Roman-looking sandals on their feet. However, it was the iridescent glow and the giant white wings behind their back that nearly made my heart stop.
The angel gave me a reproachful look. “You are in a world of trouble, Edward.”
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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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