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Sue explained to me she was chaperoning two sports girls who had done very well in their just completed major event. “Because of their training regime they are sex starved, so I promised them an older, experienced well hung man if they did well. Can we make some mutually suitable arrangements?

“And as their chaperone I want to watch, which is fine by them. They have been teasing me for days while they watched me in the shower.”

I am Jon, in my mid-thirties I moonlight as a high class gigolo. My clients have told me I am almost nine-inches and thick, something I modestly mention on my website.

Sue greets me very effusively when I arrive at their five-star hotel. She is a few years older than me, wearing tight slacks and heels and I am pleased to notice she has a good, big, well formed ass.

“This could be fun for all of us, the girls really are sex starved,” she tells me as she looks me over. “And so am I, really starved. Come in and meet the girls.”

Tina and Janelle are both similar looking, taller than average trim, taut, very confident and athletic blonds in their very early twenties. They are both very attractive and dressed in short tight, denim cut off shorts and heels which highlight their wonderful thighs, obviously developed through their sport and skimpy see-though tee-shirts.

“Sue promised us an an older, experienced and hung man, we will take the older and experienced part at face value, show us if he is hung Sue.”

“Show him some skin girls, you need to stimulate him first,” Sue smiles.

“You first Sue, we like your naked body, you have been flaunting it for us since we arrived.”

Sue had obviously been planning for this moment as she asks the girls to remove her blouse, no bra, “Thirty six B,” she tells me with a huge smile as the girls slide her slacks down to her ankles, no knickers, and help her off with them, then help her put her heels back on.

Her naked ass is glorious and huge, though beautifully proportioned, an instant turn on for me. I want to have it and pleasure it before we finish today.

I enjoy watching the two girls undressing each other as does Sue as she watches closely. “Now show us if he is hung Sue?,” Tina teases.

I have an A-grade erection as I ogle a naked, older woman and two naked younger girls. They all have beautifully trimmed pubic hair, something I always like. Sue plays the moment to perfection as she removes my shoes, shirt and trousers, my erect cock is bulging out of my g-string before Sue slowly slides it down to my ankles.

“Wow, your website promised almost nine-inches and thick, you have delivered on your promise,” Sue tells me with a tremor in her voice. “Have you ever seen or had that much cock before girls?”

Sue is obviously aware the effect her glorious ass is having on me as she whispers, “Kiss and lick my big ass for the girls. I have heard about your ass fetish. Have you ever watched a man kiss and lick a big ass before girls? He is very good. Do you like the girls watching you kissing and licking my big ass Jon?”

“Yes, I love it, my cock is throbbing.”

“Lay on your back on the bed Jon and one of the girls can fuck you while the other sits on your face so you can you lick her while I watch,” Sue whispers. “And I want you to fuck me later while the girls watch. Would you like to fuck me from behind with my big ass in your hands? Or would you prefer to fuck me first while the girls watch? Would you like that girls? I have been teasing you both for a week with my naked body. Why not some more teasing?,” Sue murmurs with a hand on my erection.

“Let’s watch you first, something new and very exciting for us,” the girls answer as one.

“That is awesome, he is huge,” Tina and Janelle mutter as one as they sit either side of me on the couch as Sue has two hands on my erection while she sucks it.

“Do you like that?,” she teases as she wraps a hand around my balls and licks them while she strokes my erection as the girls watch on, obviously an extra turn on for them, as it is for me. “Have ever watched a man having his balls sucked girls?,” she asks just before she swallows my balls in her very wet mouth.

“No, oh my god, that is amazing, you are giving us a sex lesson Sue, love it.”

“Fuck me and give the girls some more lessons,” Sue murmurs. ““Watch and enjoy girls, talk to me while you watch, I love another female watching me fucking, even better two females watching. And I am starved, I haven’t had a fuck for so long.”

“What would you like us to do while he is fucking you?”, Tina asks.

“Kiss me. Now position yourself so I can lick your cunt while he is fucking me. Is that good? Have you ever had that before?,” Sue murmurs as Janelle kisses Tina passionately.

“Not while the person licking me was being fucked from behind. You are awesome Sue, fucking awesome and so is he. And I love the noise as he slaps into your big ass.

I can feel Sue tensing just before she moans, “Harder, harder, fuck me harder. So good, so fucking good,” and can feel her orgasm. “Don’t stop, show the girls how good you are, fuck me, fuck me,” she moans as the girls watch me use and slide the full length of my erection into Sue.

“One more orgasm, then I want the girls to watch you masturbate and cum on my tits,” Sue tells me. It was a real buzz edging myself and masturbating with three females watching. “That is awesome, just fucking awesome, look at the veins in his cock,” Janelle and Tina whisper to each other.

“Glad you like it girls, he is awesome, fucking awesome,” Sue adds as she stands behind me and tongue kisses me. “Do it for the three of us on the count of ten, don’t hold back. …., nine, ten, now.”

“That really was something,” I tell them with a brand new smile in the afterglow as we shower.

“Can you get it up again for Janelle and Tina?,” Sue asks. Without waiting for an answer she holds my flaccid cock and commences kissing and licking it. Both of the girls are watching fascinated as Sue asks, “Have you girls ever watched a woman sucking a man to erection before? Is that a buzz for you Jon, two girls watching me suck you to erection? It’s a buzz for me, look how hard and big he is now.

“Lay on your back on the bed Jon. I want to watch both of you girls work on him. I promised you both an older, experienced well hung man for you to fuck if you did well. Turn me on again while I watch. Suck his cock while one of you licks his balls. Have you ever sucked a cock as big as that before? Look at the size of it, past his belly button, always a good comparison of size. Now his suck nipples while one of you sucks his cock.”

Watching and feeling two spunky, athletic, naked blonds in their very early twenties pleasuring me has me rock hard for them, especially with Sue watching and teasing her cunt lips with a finger tip. “Now fuck him, you asked for a well hung man, he is ready and waiting for you,” Sue whispers.

“Kiss my ass just like you kissed Sue’s ass, I have never had my ass kissed before,” Janelle tells me as she positions herself so I can. At the same moment Tina is lowering her tight cunt onto my throbbing erection. Absolute heaven, as she slowly lowers herself onto the full length of my erection with Sue and Janelle watching. She really is very good for a girl in her early twenties as she uses me.

“Sit on his face Janelle so he can lick your cunt while Tina is fucking him. Do you like him holding your ass like that while he is licking your cunt?,” Sue asks as Janelle and Tina kiss passionately. I can vaguely hear a whirring sound as I become aware of Sue using a vibrator.

“You girls are star performers, a huge turn on for me,” Sue tells them as they change ends.

Then Janelle whispers, “Fuck me from behind just like you fucked Sue,” as she puts her heels on and positions herself on the table just as Sue did. “Smear some oil on my for me Sue, just like we did for you?

“You told Sue her naked ass in her heels was fucking awesome, how about my naked ass in heels, is it fucking awesome?, ” Janelle teases knowing it is as I kiss it.

“Tell me, is it fucking awesome, is it?,” Janelle gasps as I grab her oily ass with my hands and slowly slide my erection all the way into her. I can see Tina sitting alongside Sue. They are tongue kissing passionately as Tina slides Sue’s vibrator into her.

I am slowly fucking Janelle with the full length of my erection. After what must have been ten minutes Janelle asks again, ”You haven’t told me, how about my naked ass in heels, is it fucking awesome?, really fucking awesome? Do you like fucking it with two people watching?”

“Yes, your naked ass in heels, is awesome, fucking awesome,” I moan as I thrust into her. One, two, three times, I can’t hold out any longer as my body shakes and I blow on her ass.

“Can you get it up again for me a third time so you can fuck me from behind with my big ass in your hands while the girls watch? What can we do to help you get it up again?,” Sue asks.

“Let the girls tease me while you watch.”

And we did.

---

A pretty redhead fails out of college and runs home to her Daddy.

–

Her mother had been three months pregnant when I met her, but my name “Nicholas” was on Daniella’s birth certificate as her father. I’d married her mother before she was born, changed her diapers, taught her to tie her shoes, and bandaged her elbow the first time she fell off her bike. I loved her like she was my own child, but sometimes wished I didn’t.

Her mother passed away when she was in middle school, and we’d helped each other through the grief and loss. The memories were still painful, and Daniella only seemed to talk about her mother when she was in trouble or wanted something. I heard great sadness and embarrassment in her voice as she pleaded, “I’m so, so sorry, Daddy. I really am. Since we lost Mom, you’re all I have. Can I please come home?”

My daughter was 23 and from the time we lost her mother, she seemed to fail and disappoint me constantly. She had waited until the middle of her fifth year of college to tell me she wasn’t going to graduate, and wasn’t even close.

She had kept giving me reasons she wanted to change schools to be with a boyfriend, or because a certain professor was great. She never mentioned having any trouble. She’d attended four colleges and been kicked out of three of them. In nine semesters, she had passed only Intro to Watercolors, Intro to Oil Painting, Piano 1 and 2, and Lifeguard Training.

She could swim well, play piano, and paint a little. I’d paid nearly a hundred grand for that! I’d also paid for an abortion when she was 18 and reckless, and another when she was 20 and still reckless. When she was 21, I bailed her out of jail after she was caught holding drugs for a boyfriend. Only a month after that, I bailed her out again and replaced her car, after she collided with a tree one drunken night.

Instead of coming home to visit with happy stories on Thanksgiving weekend, she was retreating in failure. But she was still my daughter and I loved her. “Of course, sweetie. You’re always welcome here. When will you be driving back?”

“Daddy, I … please don’t be mad. Can you send me a bus ticket? I lost my car. I had a bunch of parking and speeding tickets and didn’t pay them, so it got taken away. They suspended my license too.”

“TWO CARS, IN TWO YEARS!” I tried to calm myself. “I … I … I’ll book you a flight for tomorrow. I don’t want you riding a bus halfway across the country.”

“And Daddy, I don’t know how to tell you this …”

I grumpily asked, “Just say it. What else? Are you pregnant again?”

“No. I uh … Daddy, please think of Mom? I ah … I kind of got married. My wife Melissa needs a place to stay too, and some money to pay her fines. Daddy, I know it’s a big deal, but can she …”

I never had before, but I truly lost my temper with her. “Dammit, Daniella! You got MARRIED and didn’t tell me! And to a woman who’s in trouble with the law! What the FUCK were you thinking! WERE you even thinking? HOW THE HELL…”

I struggled to be reasonable and shouted less as I finished. “I’ll get you both a flight. You come straight here! Don’t do anything else! You just get your ASS home! I’m making some BIG changes!” For the first time ever, I angrily hung up on her.

An hour later I emailed her the flight information with a note: ‘When I meet you at the airport, don’t you dare talk to me! I don’t want to hear it! You don’t say anything to me until we get home! I’ll tell you the new rules and the way things are going to be! Tell your WIFE too! If you want to live in MY house and spend MY money, you’ll live by MY rules, and be thankful you can!’

She replied, ‘I love you. Thank you, Daddy.’ I loved her too, but wondered why caring about her had to be so FUCKING difficult, so DAMN often.

–

I tried to control my temper as I waited for them at the airport. I kept trying to figure out how things had gone so wrong. Were her terrible choices my fault somehow?

Because of the chilly weather, they wore heavy winter coats and stocking caps. I saw Daniella had braided her long red hair into pigtails and wore tiny gold star earrings. The stars reminded me of the last time she had done well in school. She was the proudest little girl in the world to get 100% on a 7th grade math test. Her hair reminded me of the time her mother taught her to braid it when she was 8 or 9.

Her ‘wife’ Melissa was the same age but half a head taller, with short bleached blonde hair and obvious dark roots. She had six earrings in each ear and large hearts tattooed on the backs of her hands. In the middle of each heart, two women were kissing. I didn’t like them. Tattoos belong on sailors, not young girls.

As they approached me, they put lollipops in their mouths. On the drive home they didn’t say anything, and I had a hard time staying angry. I was taking my daughter home again. I nostalgically remembered driving along the same streets when I had picked her up at the hospital the week she was born, along with her dear departed mother.

At home I walked to my usual seat, the recliner. Daniella took off her coat and sat on the couch, still sucking her lollipop. She wore tight jeans and a light green halter top, which revealed yet another big surprise. When I last saw her half a year before she had the same shape I was used to, with a nearly flat chest. Her new and obviously fake boobs were BIG, I thought at least ‘D’s!

Her wife Melissa walked toward me and said, “Before you give us the rules, I just want to say, ‘Thank you’ and give you a hug.” I noticed she had a gold stud through her tongue, which I thought was disgusting. She dropped her long coat and was only wearing a thin white bikini underneath! I could see the shape of her nipples, and her breasts were even bigger than my daughter’s new ones!

She hugged me lightly and said, “If my wife loves you, I love you too, Daddy.” Tattoos covered most of her legs and back too, but I could see most of her sexy ass. She kissed me on the cheek and I realized she was trying hard to seduce me. I knew, but it was starting to work anyway. As she turned and sat on the sofa, I could see some bleached pubic hairs sticking out the side of her bikini bottoms!

My daughter took the lollipop out of her mouth and asked, “So, what are the new rules, Daddy? We want to be good.” She started twirling one of her pigtails with a finger.

“I uh … the uh … the new rules.” I mentally forced my growing penis to behave and picked up my notepad.

“One – If you live here, you follow ALL the rules, with no arguments. If you break any rules, or try to argue about them with me, you can leave.

Two – No boyfriends in your bedroom … or girlfriends, except the one you’re married to.

Three – Next week I’ll help you look for jobs. You’ll have a job and pay rent when you can afford it.

Four – Unless you’re at work, I want you home by 8pm every night, no exceptions.

Five – No booze or drugs, period! You’re going to take drug tests at least once a month, until I’m sure I can trust you two.

Six – No loud noise if somebody is trying to sleep, and I don’t want people running all over the house late at night. I want you in your room by midnight.

Seven – Keep the place clean. You’ll wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen and bathrooms every day. Wash your laundry, and don’t leave dirty clothes all over.

Do you have any questions about the rules? Do you need anything?”

Danni made a popping sound as she took out her lollipop and said, “We’re out of cigarettes, and can we smoke in the house?”

I reluctantly handed her some cash. “I don’t like it, but you’re over 21. You know where the gas station is, two blocks down. You can smoke in the back yard, but not in the house.”

She picked up her jacket. “Thanks Daddy. I’ll be back soon. Please show Melly around.”

As she walked out I decided to rip the rest of the bandage off quickly, and find out the rest of the bad news I was expecting. I’d been down the same road several times before.

“So, Melly, she said you need to pay some fines?”

She nervously chewed the edge of a fingernail. “Um … yeah. Each of us need to pay $400 for the time we got busted for prostitution.”

“PROSTITUTION!”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. A guy in a suit offered us money to be birthday presents for some football player. How was she supposed to know he was an undercover cop?”

“So, MY DAUGHTER wanted to HAVE SEX for money!”

“The law is stupid. It’s okay if you get paid to make porn, but if you do it without a camera you get arrested? It’s not like thousands of people would have seen us.”

I pushed down my shame and anger enough to ask the dreaded question, “Are either of you pregnant?”

“Hahahaha! No way! Neither of us have fucked a guy since we met last year. Other than blowjobs and anal sometimes, we only lick, finger, and fist each other now. Her pussy is mine and mine is hers.”

“Would you mind your language? I don’t like those kinds of words, please.”

She smiled and tickled my arm a little, trying to cheer me up. She said, “Okay. We don’t accept penises in our vaginas. We provided oral penile stimulation so we could receive penises rectally to pay for her breast augmentation surgery and … and a few things. Now we just orally and digitally stimulate each other’s genitals. And nipples. I can’t forget the nipples, or the nice big pink areolas on her massive mammary glands.” She licked her lips.

She noticed my smile of amusement and added, “Methinks I tooketh ye olde English once upon a time, therefore I art smart.” She held two empty drinking glasses to her eyes like ridiculous goggles. The absurdity of it was enough to break my depression. I giggled a moment, then chuckled, then burst into a full guffaw. I laughed so hard that I couldn’t breathe.

When Danni walked in she heard me gasping for breath. She worriedly ran over to me. “Daddy! Are you okay? What happened?”

Melly smiled. “I told him a joke.”

Between gasps, I said, “I’m okay. It’s fine.”

Danni said, “They didn’t have the 120’s we usually smoke. I hope the menthol 160’s are okay?”

“Oooh! You found 160’s! Great! I like those best, and not many places have them!”

“I had enough money left to get sodas too. Do you still like root beer, Daddy?”

“It’s nice you remembered.”

“Of course, I remembered! You’re the reason I like root beer too. Mom didn’t want me to have sugar, but you gave me sips when she wasn’t looking. You’ve always been good to me, Daddy. Thank you.”

“Because I’ve always loved you, even when things went wrong. I was upset, but I still love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy.” She hugged me and kissed my cheek. “Let’s go watch Melly smoke.”

“I thought both of you smoked?”

“Kind of. Come out to the back yard with us.”

Melly lit a very long white cigarette and sucked in a big puff. The motion of her lips and cheeks reminded me of ‘oral penile stimulation’. I chuckled a bit to cover for my aroused smile.

Danni kissed her and sucked the smoke from her mouth, then exhaled plumes of white through her nostrils.

They repeated the seductive scene several times, then Danni explained, “When I tried smoking with the neighbor kids when I was 14, I burned my finger and it scared me a lot. I like how smoking makes me feel, but I’m afraid to hold a cigarette.”

I reminded her, “You didn’t just burn your finger, you burned down the neighbor’s shed, and almost their house.”

She blushed. “I keep trying to forget that part.”

I continued to watch Danni and her sleazy wife share more smoke. I didn’t like her tattoos and felt guilty about it, but Melly’s face as she smoked was exciting, with her cheeks hollowing each time she took a drag. I wasn’t going to do anything with her and hurt my daughter, but I’d save up some sexy memories. I could fantasize and masturbate in the shower without hurting anybody. Or so I thought.

The first night, I jerked off in the shower and had my strongest orgasm in a long time, imagining Melly’s lips on my dick, smoking my cock like she had smoked the cigarette earlier.

After lunch the second day, I saw Melly and Danni sitting on towels on the couch, wearing skirts and blouses. A porno movie was playing on the tv, and the girls had their hands under each other’s skirts!

I shouted, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Melly chuckled. “If you don’t know that, you have a MAJOR problem!” I laughed involuntarily.

Danni joined in, “You didn’t say there were any rules about porn, Daddy. We’re married, so it’s not like we’re doing something wrong.”

“I … um …”

“Seriously, Daddy, when’s the last time you had sex with somebody?”

“That’s private.”

She chuckled, “So, more than a month ago?”

“Since your mother.”

“Twelve years, Daddy? You haven’t been with anybody in TWELVE YEARS!”

I sadly nodded.

“You can watch with us. Just put a blanket over you if you’re shy. It’s okay. Really.”

Melly added, “Or if you can’t find a blanket, I don’t mind watching.” She licked her lips.

I shrugged, “Why not?” I covered up with a spare sheet and did what I needed to do into a sock. I watched the movie with them, but glanced at Melly often. It felt sexy and naughty to watch as my daughter and her wife rubbed and fingered each other under their skirts.

The next night, the girls were on their way upstairs with my daughter in the lead. Melly tugged her hand to slow her a little and poked her nose between Danni’s butt cheeks. She sniffed loudly and said, “Oooh! That aroma! Now I remember why I love you!” They giggled and went to their room.

A moment later, Melly opened the door and poked her head out. She asked, “Do me a favor? Toss these in the washer for me?” She aimed her throw perfectly, and her panties snagged on my ear. I noticed they were still a little damp. The door opened again and another pair hit me in the chest. “And Danni’s too.”

When she closed the door again, I wasted no time. I sniffed them all the way down to the laundry room. By the time I got there, I was nearly waddling due to the pole in my pants. The clothes dryer was still running, and I humped the corner of it to feel the vibrations as I smelled the wonderful scent of their panties. I tossed them in the washer with my own underwear, once I dirtied them.

The fourth night, I got in the shower and jerked myself to climax thinking of Melly’s sexy ass and big tits, under the spray of warm water. I lost my balance, slipped, and started to fall backwards.

“EEEEEH!” I screamed and instinctively threw my arms above my head and backwards, to avoid cracking my skull. By some bizarre stroke of luck, I mostly caught myself with my thumbs, until both of them snapped. I bumped my head less severely than I would have, but was nearly knocked out.

I had left the door unlocked, since I was used to living alone. Danni and Melly ran in to see me laying on my back with my full boner sticking up.

My foggy mind started to clear as Danni said something … interesting. “Are you okay, Daddy? Did you hurt your dick? Is it usually that huge, or is it swollen?”

“Huh? No. Not my dick. My hands! My thumbs! I think I broke my thumbs!”

Melly had a devilish look in her eyes. “We’ll be nice and help you, but you know we’re going to joke about this later.”

They got me into slippers and a bath robe and drove me to the emergency room. The x-rays confirmed it, both thumbs were fractured. After he and a nurse put fiberglass casts on both, the doctor told me, “The casts need to stay on six weeks. The good news is, your head is fine, only a mild concussion.”

I asked, “But without my hands, how do I …”

The nurse told the girls and I, “A family member or friend will need to help you with eating, dressing, and … bathroom necessities. Or you can get a visiting nurse, if …”

Melly put a hand over my mouth and said, “I’ll be happy to take care of him.”

Danni added her hand. “WE’LL be happy to.”

I was flabbergasted. When they let me speak again, I objected, “But! But!”

Melly smiled. “We’ll wash that for you too, BIG Daddy.” They laughed uproariously.

–

---

With regards to Robert W Chambers.

“Books cannot be killed by fire. People die, but books never die. No force can abolish memory.”
-Franklin Roosevelt

***

It started with a play.

If I had never heard of the play then none of this would have happened, and no one would have been hurt, and I wouldn’t be writing this knowing that it’s probably the last thing I’ll ever do. But now it’s much too late.

And, in the beginning, it wasn’t even about the play at all. Really it was just about the girl, and it was for the sake of meeting her that I was willing to do anything. Her name was Melissa Folger, and I can honestly say I loved her from the first moment I saw her, all blue eyes and full smile and hair such a pale blond that it was almost white. Hair like asphodels, that’s what it was.

But she had no idea who I was and at first I didn’t know how to approach her. Then an opportunity came, in Professor Chambers’ seminar on literary censorship, one of the two classes I shared with Melissa. Chambers was lecturing about an old play: It was called “The King in Yellow.”

“It’s perhaps the most widely censored work ever written, in any language,” Chambers said. “When its author put it forth 1895 the governments of Europe fell over each other to ban it. The first copies printed in Paris were immediately seized and the writer jailed. He killed himself two weeks later and the efforts to suppress his work were so ruthless that no one today even knows his name.

“But the play didn’t die with its creator,” Chambers went on. “No one is sure who translated it, but in 1896 the play somehow surfaced in England, and that country eventually outlawed it too. Even in America the government would not allow it to be publicly circulated.”

A hand went up: “What was so bad about it?” a student asked.

“Well, the complex relationship between sex, power, and violence in the play offended the moral guardians of the age. In fact, the play’s content, whatever it was—because today we have only fragments from which we can formulate guesses about the material—was so shocking that it was considered downright evil. The play, it’s said, was cursed.”

The class murmured a little, and Chambers grinned.

“‘The King in Yellow’ is a book of great truths,’ wrote one of the judges who issued the original warrant for the author’s arrest, ‘but they are truths which send men frantic and blast their lives. I don’t care if the thing is, as they say, the very supreme essence of art: It is a crime to have written it.’ Perfectly sane men have gone mad reading it—or so the rumors say. And it was connected to outbursts of mania, mass hysteria, and violence everywhere that it went.”

Another hand: “Are any of the stories true?”

Chambers shrugged. “No one knows,” he said. “But one way or the other, we may have finally disproved that old idiom about there being no such thing as bad publicity.”

He went on like that for a while but I honestly didn’t pay much attention. And I probably would have kept on caring less about “The King in Yellow” if I hadn’t overheard Melissa telling a friend that she had heard of the play before, and that she thought it was tragic that great art had been ruined by narrow-minded censors, and how much she wanted to study the fragments that were left. She spoke with so much enthusiasm for the subject that I made up my mind that if Melissa was interested in “The King in Yellow” then it was a subject worth studying. If I could learn anything interesting about the play, it might give me the chance to make an impression on her that would really last.

Which, all things considered, it certainly did.

So I did some reading. Almost nothing of the original play survived the 19th century. Men like Professor Chambers have chronicled all of the scraps that remain and produced a catalog of names and phrases related to it: a city called Carcosa, a woman named Camilla and another named Cassilda, and some strange, opaque phrases like “The Phantom of Truth” and “The Pallid Mask” which no one really understood. But of the story itself there was nothing at all.

Of course, a play with a reputation like that gave birth to plenty of pretenders. Pulp magazines, basement publishing houses, and of course the Internet teemed with dozens of scripts claiming to be the one true version of “The King in Yellow,” all of them obvious frauds from amateur playwrights trying to trade on its reputation. Most were almost unreadable. But poor imitators though they were, I thought that these fakes might give me something to work with.

A sufficiently well-written fraud, I reasoned, might contain “insights” into the real thing. It was thin, but it was enough to possibly interest Melissa. So one day I summoned up all of my courage and, when class was over, introduced myself, told her about my research, and asked if she would be interested in looking at something, the first Act of a play that was, I claimed, probably the closest thing to the original text of “The King in Yellow” that still existed.

To my surprise, she was very interested. I remember the look on her face when I showed her the manuscript; like a kid on Christmas morning. She took it, and smiled, and thanked me, and told me how much she admired my fastidiousness. I was putty in her hands. Only later did I realize that this was where it all started. As soon as the pages passed from my hands to hers, there was no going back.

At ten o’clock that night I was lying in bed in my one-room dorm, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Melissa. I wondered what she thought of the play. It was such a strange story, surreal and macabre and terrible. I was glad it was unfinished. If there was a second Act, I didn’t want to read it. I thought about the Phantom of Truth, the ghostly figure that haunted the play’s heroine, about its frayed robe and pale white mask, and how it pointed its accusing finger at everyone who passed, though only she could see it. I shivered.

I jumped when someone knocked on my door. When I answered Melissa walked right past me without saying a word. I was so surprised that I almost fell over. She didn’t even look at me and instead just dropped a stack of loose pages onto my bed and then stared at them like she had never seen them before. She was pale and shaking, and although we had spoken only six hours ago she had bags under her eyes like she hadn’t slept in days. She looked like she had just come from her own funeral.

Before I could ask what was wrong or what she was doing here she began reciting words, words that I recognized, though she said them in a way that almost obliterated that recognition:

“Strange is the night where black stars rise,
And strange moons circle through the skies.
But stranger still is
Lost Carcosa.”

It was Cassilda’s song from Act 1, Scene 2. Except it wasn’t: It was the same lines, certainly, but when I had read them on the page they had not filled me with the kind of dread that I felt then. It was like falling down a very dark hole and being absolutely certain there was no bottom. Even worse was the dull, flat look in her eyes, and the droning monotone of her voice. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked.

I tried to talk but my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. After a few seconds I managed a noise that sounded somewhat affirmative, although I’m not sure that agreeing was really what I wanted to do.

“It’s just like I thought it would be,” she continued, “only better. And worse. It’s like one of those dreams that you forget as soon as you wake up. I can’t believe you found it.”

“Found what?” I said.

She looked at me like I was an idiot. “The play: You found ‘The King in Yellow.’”

I shook my head. “No, Melissa, that play I gave you is a fake. There’s no way—”

“It’s real,” she said. “Oh, but of course, you won’t realize it until the end. It’s fine. It’s the way things have to be. Tell me, what do you think it was about?”

Her eyes looked like two bright blue chips of ice as she waited for my answer.

I hesitated, then said: “Um…it’s hard to say.”

“That’s fine,” she said. “I’ll show you.” And then she began to undress.

I would like to be able to say that at this point I stopped her, pointing out that she was obviously not in her right mind and that she was maybe under the influence of something and in any case that this is not the way I wanted this to happen.

But no matter how strange she was acting, this was the girl of my dreams, alone in my room in the middle of the night and apparently quite intent on being naked in front of me. If I was slightly less honorable with my handling of the situation than I should have been, well, really, can you blame me?

In seconds she stripped down to her bra and panties, and she stood less than a foot away. She put her hand on my chest and closed her eyes, and I watched her sway in time to the erratic beating of my heart. I was frozen in place, afraid that if I moved or said anything that the moment would somehow shatter like brittle glass.

“Do you want me?” she said.

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“What will you give me?”

I bit my tongue. “What?”

“If you want me you’ll have to give up something. What should it be?”

I was now almost completely certain that I was having a nightmare.

When she saw that I wasn’t going to answer, she said: “Why don’t you do something for me? Why don’t you find the Yellow Sign?”

She obviously thought I should know what that meant, but I didn’t have the first idea, any more than I expect you do now. Even so I nodded, and then she kissed me and all of my worries disappeared for a while.

There was something about the way that she took my clothes off that made me feel studied. She ran her hands over my bare limbs and naked chest like she was mapping it all out. She kept her eyes on what she was doing, only looking me in the face when she had finished the examination, apparently satisfied with whatever she had found. Then she pushed me onto the bed and climbed on top, catching me between her thighs. She rubbed against my naked, swollen cock once and I gasped. She looked placid.

I had trouble speaking: “Melissa, wait. Before we go any further, you should know, I mean, I’ve never, I’ve never actually—”

“That’s okay,” she said, face softening just the tiniest degree. “I’ll help.”

Then she slid down, taking me in her hand and guiding me into her mouth, and for a second I thought I might pass out. It wasn’t just the feel of her lips gliding down over me or her soft tongue teasing the underside of my cock that nearly pushed me over the edge (although, that too…), it was the sudden and unexpected reality of what was happening.

I had only ever kissed a girl once. Physical intimacy was altogether foreign to me, and sex seemed like a distant shore on the other side of an enormous ocean. Even as I ran my fingers through her hair it was impossible to believe that this was real, and the contrast between what was happening now and what I could ever have hoped would happen when I approached her that afternoon was nearly impossible to reconcile.

She took me all the way to the opening of her throat, pursing her lips around the base of my cock and then sucking wetly while her tongue swirled around. My fingers knotted so tightly in her hair that I worried I might hurt her, but she never objected. She was making a gulping noise that seemed particularly obscene but still made me quietly ecstatic.

Of course, I was young and it was my first time, and although she was only a year older than me it was very clearly not her first time, and before long she had pushed me much further than I was able to go. I gasped out a warning as I felt it roil up inside of me, but either she didn’t hear or didn’t care because her only response was to slide my cock halfway out of her mouth and lick the head, which of course was all it took. I cried out as I came, squirting onto her tongue, body shuddering. She only me out when I was spent, her strawberry lips painted with the aftermath.

I grunted an apology, embarrassed by my lack of stamina and sure that she would be disappointed. Instead she climbed on top again, kissing the side of my neck and telling me not to worry and that it was just what she had wanted.

She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, tossed it away, then pressed my face to her breasts, where my lips found their way to her soft pink nipples. She whispered to me as my tongue flicked over them, and although her voice was still vacant there was a restrained undertone of affection under her iciness. She was patient with me while we waited for it to come back, and sure enough after a time I was ready again. She lay on the bed, pulling me down with her, holding me in place between her splayed legs. I muttered something about protection but she said not to worry (which I guess is exactly the kind of thing that should have made me worry more, but somehow when she said it it seemed okay). Then she put her arms around my neck and, coaxing with little twitches of her hips, let me in.

To be honest, from that point on, there’s not much in the way of linear, coherent memory. I couldn’t tell you how long it lasted or what we said or what I was thinking. All I remember is a long, slow, hot hour alone (together) in the dark. I tried to pull out at the end but she held me in, and I felt something pass between us, and the moment was suddenly broken, and I was back to myself, sweating, panting, naked, and sore. And Melissa opened her eyes and looked at me with that icy flatness, and I felt chilled all over, and I knew that whatever affection she felt for me just seconds ago was gone now.

And then she left.

She dressed and went without saying a word, and as soon as she was gone I started to wonder if any of it had really happened. But then I saw the pages scattered on the floor and I realized that yes, it must have been. And it was when I began gathering the pages up that I noticed something else strange: Although I had given Melissa only the first Act of an unfinished play, somehow she had returned a manuscript complete with a second Act. Where had it come from? I was too tired and too confused to consider an answer, so I stuck the whole thing in a drawer and hoped that when I woke up in the morning it would all make sense. Of course, it didn’t.

I was relieved when she was absent from class the next day. I stared at her empty chair, remembering the warmth of her naked body but unable to enjoy it because the competing memory of her blank, emotionless glare kept crowding it out. I might have sat there all day thinking about it if I hadn’t been startled by what at first sounded like the call of a deranged hyena but instead turned out to be:

“Let the red dawn surmise
What we shall do,
When this blue starlight dies
And all is through.”

Cassilda’s song again, I realized, snapping my head up. Professor Chambers stood at the lectern looking pale, his eyes wild, hair tangled, and mouth hanging open. His clothes were disheveled and from where I sat I thought I could see spots of blood in his beard. He looked like he had just been in a car accident, and when he spoke the next verses he drew handfuls of papers out of his briefcase and flung them into the front row of desks. I didn’t even need to look at them to know what they were.

Of course Melissa would have showed the play to Chambers. Probably even before she came to see me. Maybe before she finished reading it herself. I guess he must have liked it, because he tried to quote the whole thing.

I looked around the room; a few of the other students were laughing and one or two seemed to think this was some sort of particularly unorthodox lecture, but most appeared uncomfortable. Chambers’ voice grated like a saw while his recitations became less and less coherent. After ten minutes campus security escorted him out of the room and off to an ignominious early retirement and within an hour everyone had heard what happened. Most of the student body found the incident hilarious: Had he been drunk, or is this just what happens after too many tenured years without a vacation?

Although a few people had saved the pages he threw around, no one recognized them, and no one made any connection between the professor’s sideshow and “The King in Yellow.” No one but me, of course. The combination of Melissa’s spectral visit to my room and the professor’s performance in class set an unnamable terror in my heart. But it couldn’t be that the play was to blame? I didn’t believe those ridiculous old ghost stories about a cursed play that drove people insane. Besides, the play I had shown Melissa was a fraud, of that I was certain. Even so, when I got back to my dorm I hid the pages in my mattress and I told no one about them. I was sure that if I just kept my head down that this would all blow over, and things would be back to normal in no time at all.

Three days later Chambers was dead. So was Melissa.

They hung themselves side by side from the statue of the Fates in front of the arts building. A 30 page suicide note in both of their handwriting was found scribbled on the back of Act 1 of “The King in Yellow.” Police found over a hundred photocopied manuscripts in the trunk of Chambers’ car, held together with rubber bands, and they seized the whole lot of them as evidence.

Classes were cancelled. The rumor mill was spinning from the moment the bodies were found: A nervous breakdown in class was one thing, but now suicide too? Double suicide, with a student? And what about this mysterious play the cops found? What did it all mean? All the week long the people talked, and speculated, and gossiped, and wondered while I was in mortal terror of the police or anyone else connecting the dots between Chambers, Melissa, the play, and me. I considered throwing out the pages I had hidden, but something wouldn’t let me. I suppose it was the belief that I would never understand what had happened unless I read it. When I got the news that Melissa was dead, I went numb inside, and I thought that the only thing that would shake the feeling away was might be in that strange second Act she had brought me. Really, it was all I had left of her now.

But I didn’t read it. I was scared to even touch it. And it was about then that the bad dreams started. In my sleep I saw the Phantom of Truth, who pointed an accusing finger at me, and I heard a voice—often Melissa’s, but just as often not—and it said:

“Have you found the Yellow Sign?”

But when I awoke I still did not know what it meant.

When classes finally started again I thought I could put the whole thing behind me. But as I walked to the Humanities building I heard something that made me wonder if I was dreaming still:

“You, sir, should unmask.”

It was Camilla’s line from the end of the masquerade, Act 1, Scene 2. I saw a knot of people clustered at the foot of the hill. Elbowing my way through the crowd, I saw someone dressed in an elaborate yellow gown and a gold Mardi Gras mask. It was Tessa Solomon, a girl I had known and briefly flirted with in my civics class before I met Melissa. Opposite her, playing the Stranger (revealed at the end of Act 1 to be the Phantom of Truth), was a tall man costumed in a faded bathrobe (his version of the Tattered Raiment) and a fencer’s hood (standing in for the Pallid Mask). I later learned that he was her boyfriend, Louis Castaigne, a theater major.

They had marched unannounced across the green to the top of the hill ten minutes earlier and begun their performance. No one there but me could possibly have known what play it was, but a clamor of excitement went through the audience as the first people made the connection between their lines and the phrases referenced in Professor Chambers’ last lecture. Dazed, I watched the scene unfold.

“I said, you should unmask,” said Tessa-as-Camilla.
“Indeed?” said the Stranger.

“It’s time. We have all laid aside disguise but you.

“But I wear no mask.”

“No mask? No Mask!” Tessa threw down her Mardi Gras mask so that the audience could appreciate her horrified expression. It was a good performance, but something about it felt off to me. It was her eyes: They looked like Melissa’s that night I found her at my door.

Louis pointed an accusing finger at the crowd, and although I knew it was all part of the show it was too much like my dreams. As I turned away, I saw Tessa bring out the sword. I knew what was coming next and I preferred not to watch the scene play out. But when I heard Louis scream I turned back: In the play, of course, the Stranger isn’t hurt by Camilla’s sword; but I guess this was one vein in which Louis’ final performance wasn’t quite as authentic as he had hoped.

Early speculation was that Tessa had somehow mistaken a real sword for a prop, but as the police report later revealed, the weapon she killed Louis with WAS a prop. The blunt metal stave went through him with so much force that it broke in half, and broke Tessa’s wrist along with it. Even as Louis lay there, bleeding and screaming, and the audience all scattered in a panic, Tessa never stopped reciting her lines. When Louis wasn’t there to say his line in response, she just repeated the cue line over and over again until the police took her away. As far as I know she’s still institutionalized.

After that the campus was closed until further notice. The students lived in a strange no-man’s land. Some left. Others stayed. They wandered between bars and parties, and they talked about what had happened, and increasingly they talked about “The King in Yellow.” Was the play real? Had Chambers read it? Had Tessa? Could it really drive a person insane? Where had it come from?

Speculation and gossip gave way to myth. Soon everyone knew someone who knew someone who had read it. It became a fad. Everywhere you went people asked: “Have you read it?” and “Do you know anyone who read it?” and “Where can I read it?”

Where indeed? Where, I wondered, had Tessa and Louis gotten the script for the scene they performed that day? Melissa must have given it to them. I remembered the hundred copies found in Chambers’ car. I wondered how many others the police hadn’t found because they had been given away first, and who might be reading them now, and what they might do?

Two weeks after Louis’ death I attended a frat/sorority mixer billed as a “Carcosan Ball,” where the Theta Phi girls dressed in corsets and masks and long gowns like Carcosan courtesans, peeking out from over the top of decorative fans at the guys from Alpha Chi Omega, and every third person quoted “The King in Yellow” in conversation, or pretended to. A friend had invited me on the pretense of cheering me up (had he known why I was depressed he probably wouldn’t have bothered), and I hadn’t known the theme when I, for the sake of politeness, agreed to attend. Watching the partygoers, I thought of them all as silly, thoughtless children. To them “The King in Yellow” was still fun, and an excuse for a second Halloween or Mardi Gras, but I wondered if any of them were thinking about the three people who had died and the one laying in a hospital.

By midnight I was ready to leave, but then a group of laughing Thetas climbed onto the dining room table and shouted for everyone’s attention. My heart jumped when I saw them passing printed pages around. A tall blonde, clearly many drinks for the worse, read in a wavering voice from the sheet in front of her:

“Along the shore the cloud waves break,
The twin suns sink beneath the lake,
The shadows lengthen
In Carcosa.”

She giggled and passed the page to one of her friends, who continued the verse:

“Strange is the night where black stars rise,
And strange moons circle through the skies
But stranger still is
Lost Carcosa.”

The effect that these words had on the crowd was astonishing: They surged forward to hear more, and when each girl finished reading a page she would fling it into the mass of them, where it would sometimes be torn to shreds by too many hands groping for it.

At first the girls had apparently been acting on a lark, their drunken recital full of giggles and winks. As they went on, though, their demeanor sobered, and each of them got a faraway look. When one of them lifted up her voice and shrieked:

“The scalloped tatters of the King in Yellow must hide Yhtill forever!”

—it elicited such a horrible cry of elation from the audience that I felt I had to leave. I pushed my way through the dumbstruck Alphas who stood shoulder to shoulder in the doorway, hurrying upstairs to find my coat and get out of that place before I had to hear anymore of those horrible words.

I only made it as far as the first open door in the hall before I stopped. I stood staring into the dimly lit room, just as dumbfounded as those downstairs who were transfixed by the recitation. Scattered over the floor were the various pieces of girls’ costumes and lolling on the bed, half-naked in each other’s arms, were two Thetas, busily kissing, groping, and fondling each other.

A girl with dark curls piled up on her head struggled with the laces of her corset, finally loosening them enough to allow her breasts out so that her partner could lick the erect nipples. She lounged against a pile of pillows, fingers stroking the other girl’s hair, eyes half-open and tongue set between her teeth, inhaling with little hissing noises and then exhaling with lazy sighs.

The other girl closed her eyes, strawberry lips and cherry-red tongue licking and lapping. She shifted her gaze to me, and I was afraid she might scream, but instead she regarded me with cool indifference, or perhaps a complete lack of acknowledgment that I was there at all. The moment didn’t seem real. In fact, I was sure that it wasn’t. Because it was not the sight of female bodies entwined that fixed my attention; it was that one of them, the girl with the dark curls, looked exactly as I imagined Camilla, the heroine of “The King in Yellow,” to look.

It’s a strange thing, a resemblance to the fancied image of a fictional person, but when I first read the play a picture of Camilla’s face emerged very prominently in my mind, to the point that I felt I could pick her out of a crowd. And now here she was, or at least, someone who looked so much like her that I could only assume I was once again dreaming, or that the difference between dreams and waking was not as pronounced as it should be.

I might have stood rooted to that spot all night if “Camilla” had not pushed the other girl away, stood, and walked across the hall, stopping to stroke the side of my face and trail her hand over my shoulders. She was naked except for fishnets, long black opera gloves, and costume jewelry, but she walked right up to me, touched me, and then retreated into the darkened doorway of the room on the opposite side. A pair of long white arms with lacquered nails emerged from the shadows of that room and drew “Camilla” in.

The other Theta, a short, petite Vietnamese girl, followed, stopping only to kiss my cheek, touch my wrist, stroke my thigh, and trail her fingers along my arm. Her movements were languid, like a passing mirage. I was still not sure if any of this was real, but her touch felt solid enough. She looked over her shoulder as she disappeared into the impenetrable blackness of the other bedroom and gestured, once, for me to follow.

“Hello?” I said, approaching the open door and peering in. I could see nothing, but the same arms, belonging to the unseen third person in this rendezvous, slipped out of the shadows and, taking me by the wrists, drew me in. The door closed behind us.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I allowed myself to be drawn through the dark, to the bed. My unseen partners made no noise at all, and when I lay down it seemed that the weight of only one caused any depression on the mattress. But then I felt their hands on me, one’s touch gentle and reassuring, one’s fast and insistent, the last a measured compromise. They never said a word, to me or each other, but they worked in perfect tandem, stripping me, laying me back, and ministering their affections one at a time.

Certain things about that night will always stand out to me: I remember hearing the bedsprings creak, and the sound of fabric rustling, and of zippers and buttons and catches being undone as the last vestiges of costumes were dismissed. I remember hearing long hair sweeping over bare shoulders, and the sound of lips brushing together. I remember sighs, and moans, and little laughs so soft they almost weren’t there. And from below I could still hear the awful grind of words from many mouths. The impromptu chorus had reached the masquerade scene, and again I heard Camilla’s fateful line:

“You, sir, should unmask.”

Those words were a throbbing pulse that ran through the whole house, like a gigantic heartbeat, and we all fell into their rhythm.

I smelled perfume, and chapstick, and clean sheets, and the scent of wildflowers. I smelled musk, hot flesh, and sweat. I smelled lust, want, need, and indulgence. I remember the taste of lips, and tongues, and soft necks, and bare shoulders, and exposed breasts. Each kiss left a sweet taste behind that never quite went away. Later, I tasted the wetness of their bodies, my lips dancing across the smooth plane of each of their thighs and then between them.

“You, sir, should unmask.”

And of course, I felt. I felt everything: one set of lips against mine, long hair hanging around her face and tickling my cheek while our tongues met. Another mouth ran down my bare chest, over my ribs, and back up again. Further down, a pair of hands wrapped around my cock, holding me while she sat above me, and then down on me. The kissing girl bit my lip at the same moment I entered, and then she pushed my face to her breasts as her friend began to ride me.

“You, sir, should unmask.”

I felt the pain and the grief and the coldness of the last weeks drop away. I felt myself forget everything, down to even who I was.

“You, sir, should unmask.”

They still didn’t say anything. Each time I came they waited patiently for me to recover, teasing me with light kisses and touches until I was ready again, and then it was time for another round, a sea of hot bodies, thrusting hips, and quivering thighs, all while many hands clutched at me and many voices moaned and sighed.

“But I wear no mask…”

After, I lay in the dark, shivering, somehow feeling alone. The girls said nothing, and when I reached out I found the bed unexpectedly empty. Then I felt my clothes drop onto my chest, and I took the hint. After dressing in a hurry I reached for the light, but someone beat me to it, closing her hand over mine and pushing it away.

The door opened, and with the same gentle force that I had been drawn in I was now expelled. I stumbled to the stairs, allowing myself to look back only once. When I did, I saw the open, lightless doorway, and from inside I heard a voice, and it whispered:

“Have you found the Yellow Sign?”

And then I ran.

I ran down the steps and out of the house. As I passed the living room, I had the impression of some great turmoil there, a riot of shouting and colliding bodies and a horrible noise that may have been a voice still reading “The King in Yellow,” although nothing about the voice was recognizably human anymore.

But I ignored all of that, and everyone and everything else I encountered on the way home. It wasn’t until I was in my one-room dorm with the door securely locked that I allowed myself to stop running, and then I fell onto my bed and cried, and screamed, and tore at the sheets.

I did all of this because I knew that I had recognized that voice in the dark, and that it had been Melissa.

After that things started to get really bad. The nightmares came every night. When I was awake I thought about Melissa and when I didn’t think about Melissa I thought about the play. I talked to no one if I could help it. I rarely left my room.

On the outside, things were happening. The Thetas and Alphas and assorted hangers-on from the Carcosan Ball set to work. The manuscript from the party was reassembled, then copied, and they began to pass the copies around. Demand was high, especially since the party itself had assumed something like legendary status among those who hadn’t been there. Hand to hand, person to person, it spread and spread. Copies of the play in book form, printed and bound in someone’s basement, were pushed onto stores by mysterious, anonymous salesmen. Desperate for a hot seller, the shops bought up all they could. It flew off the shelves. Soon everyone was reading “The King in Yellow.”

It was just a trickle of stories at first: suicides, murders, nervous breakdowns. Nothing unusual in themselves. If they were happening a little more often lately, well, maybe it was something in the air.

When Louis Castaigne’s cousin, Henry, threw himself in front of a bus it was chalked up to grief. When an assistant district attorney set fire to himself on the courthouse steps it was blamed on depression and being overworked. A woman drowning her husband at their oldest daughter’s swim meet? Postpartum depression.

As the incidents became more frequent and more graphic, authorities and media analysts noticed that many of those involved had read “The King in Yellow.” A few publications ran sidebars highlighting the play’s sordid past, but no one seriously considered that it had anything to do with the violence. No one worried yet. Then a week went by, then two, and more stories came in:

A cab driver who held his fare at gunpoint and forced them to read the play.

A man who changed the name of his club to “Carcosa” only to have it burnt down by rioters two days later.

A parish priest who gave a sermon about “The King in Yellow” rather than the Bible, and an hour later, when his horrified parishioners couldn’t take it anymore and found they had been locked in, eventually tore the priest limb from limb with their bare hands, telling police after that it was the only way to keep him from driving them all mad.

The last straw came when a group of Alphas and Thetas set fire to the local library while chanting “Carcosa now!” and then threw themselves off of a freeway overpass. People became scared, and serious questions about play were asked for the first time: Was it mass hysteria? The power of suggestion? Were already psychologically-fragile people drawn to the text because of its reputation and then acting out on it?

Or could it be that the governments of 19th century Europe hadn’t suppressed the play because it offended them, but because they knew what it could do?

No sane person was willingly reading or distributing it at all now, but those who had read it already would not stop trying to spread the gospel. They copied the prologue into the body of emails and sent it to their entire contact list hoping that trusting recipients would open it and read without knowing what it was. They texted individual lines to every person whose phone number they could get their hands on. People downloaded podcasts and found, instead of the content they expected, “The King in Yellow” being read over their earbuds.

Copies with fake covers and titles were smuggled onto store and library shelves, hapless browsers opening them up and finding horror within. In at least half of all cases, we were told, those who had read or heard even a few lines couldn’t resist reading the entire thing. Once its hooks were in you, they never came out.

The police tried to step in, even going so far as to close bookstores and libraries for the sake of public safety. But of course, the police had seized Chambers’ copies of the play after he died, and the suicide note was written on a copy of the play. At least one of the detectives must have read it during the investigation. And then he would have passed it on to a colleague…

It had been months now and there was no telling how many in the department had read it. So when people noticed that the stores being raided were almost always the ones not actually selling the book, and that a person arrested for distributing had usually never done so but very often started to after being released, well, it was best not to draw attention to oneself by saying anything.

Personal protection guidelines were issued to help us keep ourselves safe. We were encouraged to leave the house as little as possible, to minimize use of all communication devices, and not to read anything that was put in front of us. Be suspicious of anyone you haven’t been in constant contact with, we were told. Report anyone exhibiting unusual behavior. Assume that anyone you meet may be a threat. Everyone stopped going to work. Cars were abandoned all over town. People started hiding.

From my window each night I could see the fires burning and the crowd of frenzied madmen running through the streets. During the day normal people left their homes, scavenging what they could before returning to their hiding places. The Tattered Raiment was spread over all of us, and we were afraid.

I stayed in my dorm, leaving only twice a day to use the bathroom down the hall. My door was locked at all other times, and I had covered the windows with duct tape. I never saw anyone else, and no one came looking for me. The more time went by, the less and less I heard from the outside and the fewer unaffected people seemed to be on the streets.

Occasionally I wondered if I was the last man in the world. Other times I was sure of it.

I remember spending all of one night crouched by my door, my eye pressed to the crack, watching the hall outside for any hint of movement. I was not sure if movement would be a good or bad thing, but I would cross that bridge when I came to it. Hours passed and I kept my vigil. It was almost sunrise (I slept during the day; it was safer) when something passed by. Not only did it pass, but it stopped, and, to my surprise, dropped down to my level, and peered through the same crack I was at. I saw a jaundiced eye shot rolling in its socket as a voice that was something between a whisper and a grunt said:

“Little pig, little pig, let me in.”

I froze. There was a pause. Then:

“You’re supposed to say: ‘Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin.’”

“Is that from ‘The King in Yellow’?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” was the answer, and then a laugh. “Do you know it?”

I considered this question for some time, as the answer was surprisingly complicated. But eventually I said:

“Yes. In fact, I was the first. And now I might be the last. And everything that’s happened is my fault. But it doesn’t matter because there’s probably not anyone left to blame me, and no one ever knew anyway, and it was nothing I did on purpose, and as embarrassing as it is to admit now, this is all just because I wanted to impress a girl but didn’t know how, and I think that’s a hell of a fucking thing to end the world over.”

Another long pause on the other side. Then:

“When do I get to say ‘I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in?’”

“I don’t know,” I said, voice trembling because I had started to cry. “The second Act?”

The Big Bad Wolf skittered off down the hall to whisper at another door, and I never saw him again. After that I stayed away from the doors and windows entirely.

I counted the minutes as they passed one by one. I did not read the play. I ran out food before I ran out of water. The power went out and stopped coming back on. I considered leaving to find help or supplies, but the thought of what might be waiting out there stopped me. Starvation didn’t seem so bad, in a certain light.

If the tape hadn’t worn away from the windows I might be in there still. But through a rip I saw the orange light flickering one night, and curiosity got the better of me. I stripped the tape away, and below, in the center of the campus, I saw the great fire being stoked, and around it I saw a mass of people, hundreds of them. At first I thought it was another group of madmen, but then I looked more closely and saw the grim, determined looks on the mob’s faces, the faces of people who had been in hiding for weeks and were now ready to burn the cancer of “The King in Yellow” out of their community forever. It turned out I had been wrong, and I was not the last sane man left in the world.
I watched as they fed a seemingly endless stream of pages into the fire, emptying box after box full of books and loose manuscripts until the air was black with ash. And then I heard it: a hooting, screaming, cackling noise, and I saw the crowd carrying in something that might have been a person or might have been a scarecrow, but which in either case foamed and gibbered and struggled as six people bore it along. I imagined what it must have been like for this creature who, after weeks of crawling in the gutter and running across rooftops and reciting “The King in Yellow” until it forgot how to feed itself, was now too tired and too sick and too hungry and too insane to resist the hands that held it up and pushed it forward. I knew what was going to happen before it did, so when they threw the struggling stick figure into the fire, and when the madman laughed and leaped and cavorted in the flames, I only nodded, and wondered if he was the Big Bad Wolf.

And then they brought in the next one.

This went on until dawn, and when the flames began to die someone threw gas onto the fire and the crowd cheered. A blazing plume shot into the sky and the center of that burning mass glowed bright yellow, and in the swirling dance of the flames I thought I saw, and could still see imprinted on my vision even after the explosion faded away, a shape with three points, a symbol entirely alien but which nevertheless communicated to me thoughts and words and ideas so beautiful that I wept.

And I knew that it was the Yellow Sign, and that I had found it at last.

And I also knew that despite the mob’s efforts, the play would not be destroyed, that I would not run down to them and throw the last (and first) copy of it into that fire, and that even if I did it wouldn’t matter, because the essence of it had spread through those flames and shown itself to me. The Yellow Sign taught me that the play more than just paper and words. It had been destroyed before; it would live again.

I realized that I was no longer alone. My door was still locked, barricaded in fact, but even so a figure in a tattered robe and a white mask stood next to me, pointing an accusing finger. I reached out and touched the fabric of its coarse, billowing gown. It was real. The Phantom of Truth had come for me. And that meant that I should unmask.

The truth is, I didn’t discover “The King in Yellow”: I wrote it.

All of my research turned up nothing interesting enough to approach Melissa with, so I took matters into my own hands. Lots of people over the years had tried recreating the lost play. So why couldn’t I do the same?

But not all of it, you see: I only wrote the first Act. Just enough to have something to show her. The second Act that Melissa brought to my room that night, and that Chambers and Tessa and the Thetas and all the others had read? Well, at first I assumed that she had written it herself. But now, as I looked into the Pallid Mask, I realized that wasn’t true. Perhaps the second Act was written through her, just as the first had been written through me, but the words belonged to neither of us. They were the words that had been whispered into our ears by the invisible messengers: Camilla, Cassilda, the Stranger, and even the King in Yellow himself. The play was their doorway into the world and we were their key, just as others had been before us.

The Truth hounded me still. It pointed at the place where the manuscript was hidden. I took out the play, arranged it into the proper order, and then I read it. I read it from beginning to end, and when I came to the revelation of the Yellow Sign I laughed. I laughed and laughed and laughed until I was sick, and for all I know I’m laughing still.

When I was finished, I looked up and said: “Shouldn’t you unmask too?” So the Phantom of Truth took off the Pallid mask, and I saw blue eyes and a full smile and hair the color of asphodels. And when we kissed I thought how lucky we were, that on our one night together we had compounded such a child as this, we each contributing one half that somehow became a greater whole. And I felt very proud.

When the mob came to my room they found what they thought was me hanging from the curtain rod. And they clucked their tongues and said what a shame it was. If any of them had read the play, they would know that I am not dead, any more than Melissa is, and that by leaving our bodies behind we’ve freed ourselves from that prison of flesh.

They did not find the play either. We took it with us. And although this one town has evicted us, we have a whole wide world to find a new home in. “The King in Yellow” will live again, and you, who have read this confession, will be among the first to seek it out. The Pallid Mask sees you, and the accusing finger of the Phantom of Truth now points in your direction, even if you cannot yet see it.

But tell me, friend: Have you found the Yellow Sign?

---

The third installment of Sidney’s adventures

As she slept, Sidney’s dreams wandered around her mind, picking up bits and pieces of her memories and fantasies before sticking them together in a package for Sidney to think about.

It started out slowly, and Sidney imagined herself walking through a room filled with fog. The clouds were warm and floated up to her waist. Sidney realized she wasn’t wearing any clothes, but she didn’t feel embarrassed or compelled to cover herself up. She felt safe in the room.

A silhouette of a figure walked through the fog towards Sidney, and as they drew closer, Sidney saw that it was the woman from the bus. She blew Sidney a kiss, and Sidney felt lips touch hers. The woman slowly approached Sidney and gently took her hands. She lifted the up and placed one on her breast. Sidney began to massage it softly, cupping it in her soft hand and moving it from side to side.

Her other hand was drawn up to the woman’s mouth, and she began to suck on the index finger. She pulled the hand closer to her mouth and then pulled it away slowly. The woman kept a constant amount of suction on it, softly drawing it into her mouth. She used her tongue to slide up and down the sides of the finger, licking it from top to bottom. She took it out of her mouth and began to jerk it off as if it were a penis. Sidney found it to feel very pleasurable.

To reciprocate, Sidney began to pinch the woman’s nipple. The woman inhaled sharply, drawing a breath in a way that assured Sidney that it felt good. Sidney licked her fingers and tugged on it, pulling her tit out. The woman leaned forward and began to softly kiss Sidney. She tugged on Sidney’s bottom lip, touched their tongues together, swapped spit and swallowed it. She whispered to Sidney, “God, I have to eat you right now. I want to taste your body.”

She pushed Sidney over onto a sex couch, designed to lay Sidney down so that her head was lower than her pussy, which stuck up in the air and just the right height for someone on their hands and knees to bury their face between Sidney’s thighs and lick her wet pussy. Sidney pressed her legs together, keeping the woman’s head in place.

Sidney began to squirm as she came closer and closer to orgasm. Every time she shook, the woman increased her pace. She flicked Sidney’s clit with her tongue at a speed Sidney thought was inhuman. Occasionally she would dart her tongue into Sidney’s pussy, which by now was sopping wet, and wiggle her tongue around, but she focused most of her attention on stimulating Sidney’s clit.

Sidney came hard, and lifted her torso off of the couch. The woman popped her head up and pinched Sidney’s nipples as hard as she could and held them throughout Sidney’s orgasm. When Sidney stopped shaking, the woman released her nipples and Sidney felt blood rush back into them, giving them a warm feeling, as if they were covered in warm water.

She propped herself up on her elbows, and the woman straddled her torso. Sidney could feel the woman’s juices sliding down her body. She pulled the woman’s head towards her and they kissed again, biting each other, running their tongues over one another’s teeth, and trying to bring their faces as close together as possible. Sidney closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she and the woman had switched places, and Sidney was wearing a dildo, which rested between the woman’s voluptuous breasts. The woman was pressing them together and moving them up and down, licking the tip of the cock when it was close enough to her mouth. It took Sidney a few moments before she realized she was experiencing stimulation as if she had a cock. She looked down and checked – it was definitely a seven inch translucent teal strapon, not attached to her physically at all. It didn’t even have a small dildo on her side of the belt. Sidney worried a bit. Why did it feel like she had a cock? What could it mean? How long would this last? After another minute or two of the tit job, Sidney decided it felt pretty damn good, and left any misgivings about it behind.

She began to thrust her hips in time with the woman’s strokes, and tug on her own nipples, They were still a little tender from the woman’s pinching during Sidney’s orgasm, but the tenderness just enhanced the feelings of pleasure that Sidney was receiving.

Sidney started to get a feeling as if she was close to orgasm. The woman seemed to realize it and sped up her strokes, sending shivers down Sidney’s spine with the pure friction of her movements. Sidney screamed, and a white cream shot out of the tip of the strapon onto the woman’s face. the woman began to wipe it off her face with a finger and swallowed it. Sidney looked down with a ‘What the fucking hell just happened?’ look on her face. She reached down and tasted a scoop herself. It tasted exactly like her fluids, although it had a thicker consistency. The woman smiled. “It’s delicious,” she announced. Sidney had to agree. Sidney looked into the woman’s eyes and the scene changed.

She was standing in front of the woman, who sat on a folding chair. There was a long line of other woman sitting on other folding chairs side by side to the left of the woman. They all had dildo’s and a small smile in their face and in their eyes. Sidney sat down on the woman’s lap, and the dildo pushed up inside her pussy. The woman sucked on Sidney’s nipples and bucked her hips. Sidney bounced up and down on the plastic pole inside her and quickly reached orgasm. The woman from the bus immediately picked her up and passed her to the left, into the waiting arms of the brunette sitting next to her, who set Sidney down on her dildo and began to buck her hips just as the woman had done.

Sidney had barely regained her senses from her first orgasm before she felt herself speeding towards another one. She looked to her right down the row of expectant women. ‘Holy fuck,’ she thought, ‘there must be at least fifty hotties in this line.’ The brunette bounced her up and down until Sidney went over the edge and came again, stronger than the first time. She was passed left again, and the next woman, a blonde with glasses, who settled her strapon deep into Sidney’s pussy and began thrusting. Sidney soon came again, even stronger than the second one.

She was passed along, woman by woman, down the line. Each orgasm grew in length and intensity until Sidney was incoherent and unable to do anything other than moan, smile, and climax over and over again. The last woman in the line, a deeply tanned woman with contrasting shiny white teeth and strapon that was just as white and just under twice the size of the others. Sidney was able to feel the difference, as out of touch as she was. Her orgasm was so powerful, it seemed as though she shook the entire room. It was as if all forty-nine other orgasm had been combined into one last mind-blowing pleasure combo.
Sidney fell off the cock onto the floor and rolled around for a good five minutes. Fireworks danced in front of her eyes, fairies threw sparkles into the air, a choir of angles began to sing, and Sidney was lifted into the air on a pink cloud of pure ecstasy.

She was lifted up, up, up into the air until she opened her eyes in a familiar environment. She was laying in her bed, sweating, and the sheets between looked and felt as if they had just been pulled out of a pool. There was a thumping sound, and Sidney heard that it was from her neighbor’s apartment. “Jesus Christ! Can’t a man get some sleep around here? Quiet down!”

Sidney managed a whispered “sorry” before she closed her eyes and fell asleep again. She didn’t dream anymore that night.

Sidney woke up the next morning and stretched. Her bed was dryer that it had been, but was so soaked in her pussy juice that it still felt damp to the touch. She shrugged and left it where it was. It smelled nice anyways; why wash it right away? She fixed a small breakfast of toast and a scrambled egg, and relaxed in a nice bubble bath. She thought of the dream she had had, and tried to remember it. Something about the mystery woman, and the most pleasure she had felt before… She couldn’t quite get it. Sidney shrugged again. It didn’t really matter. She must have had a good time; her sheets were proof enough of that.
While she though, Sidney began to absentmindedly finger herself. She slipped her middle and ring fingers inside her pussy and slid them in and out, using her index finger to rub over her clit. She shuddered, and her eyes rolled upwards, and only then she realized that she had been fondling herself without even knowing it. It wasn’t an exceptionally strong orgasm, but it still happened. Sidney was surprised at the ease in which it had happened. She was just thinking, letting her mind wander and bam! – she was filling the tub with pussy juice.

She got out of the bath and toweled herself dry. She slipped on a white robe and sat down in front of her computer. She opened up her email, and there were two unread messages. One was from the library, and one was from Lady Jacqueline. She opened the library one first.

She read it, and it was very blunt. It essentially said that due to budget cuts she had to be let go, blah, blah, blah. She had been axed. Sidney sighed and opened the other one. It was essentially a thank-you note with a ten dollar voucher at the store. “Well, there’s a bit of good news at least,” Sidney said to herself. She leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling. She was interrupted by a knock on the door. Sidney went to open it, and the woman stood there, holding a small bag.

“You’re pretty early,” said Sidney.

“I was thinking maybe we could spend the day together. I don’t know about you, but I’m planning on dealing with some serious fucking today.” She pointed at Sidney. “You.” She pointed to herself. “And me.” She tugged on the belt holding Sidney’s robe on. Sidney managed to hold it together just before it opened. “Are going to be in high heaven.”

Sidney stood aside and the woman stepped inside. She placed her bag on Sidney’s kitchen table and took a look around the apartment. She nodded. “I like it.”

She began to undress in front of Sidney. When she caught a glimpse of Sidney staring, she stopped. “I think that, since we’re going to be spending a bit of time together, we might as well get accustomed to each other’s bodies.” she slipped off the rest of clothes and tugged playfully on Sidney’s robe. “C’mon now, don’t be shy,” she teased. It came open, and this time Sidney made no attempt to stop it. She let it slip to the floor and the woman looked at Sidney’s naked body, from her wet hair to her bald pussy to her bare feet standing on the carpet.

Sidney looked at the woman, from her long, flowing locks to the landing strip trimmed neatly above her slit to the tiger tattooed on her ankle. The woman stepped forward towards Sidney. I think maybe we should play a little ‘adult’ truth or dare. What do you think?”

Sidney was still a little taken aback by the boldness of the woman and just nodded her head. “The bed’s over there, but the sheets are a bit wet. I… had a dream.”

“I like it.” the woman walked over to the bed and sniffed the damp spot. “Aah,” she exhaled deeply, “the sweetest smell on earth.” She sat down on the bed and patted next to her. Sidney took a seat and slapped the side of her head. “Okay,” she said, “You first. Truth or dare?”

“Hmm. I think I’ll start off slowly. Truth.”

Sidney thought for a minute. “Okay. Why did you approach me on the bus?”

The woman laughed and it reminded Sidney of wind chimes. “I already told you that. It’s because I wanted to fuck you.”

“But why?”

“I think you’re very attractive. You make me horny. I can tell you have a great personality. Take your pick. Truth or dare?”

Sidney smiled. “Dare.”

“Okay, I dare you to show me all the sex toys you have. I mean all of them, and tell me what your favorite use for them is.”

Sidney stood up and collected her toys from drawers and her desk and laid them on the bed. “Alright, here we go. I have this small pink dildo. I like it best when it’s in my ass. It’s a bit too small to stimulate my pussy, but it has a nice feeling.” She picked up the virbator. “I love to have this in my pussy, as deep as I can fit it. I once kept it there for so long I went numb.” She grabbed the Fleshlight. “I like to eat this out and pretend it’s a girl. When I have it around my tongue and the dildo in my ass and the vibrator in my pussy, it’s like a foursome.”

She held up the poseable hand. “I haven’t used this one yet. I think it would be good to use for a shocker, maybe.” She picked up the sticky-ended dildo. “This is good for riding. These anal beads I like to put in slowly, but pull out quickly. I think that’s it. Truth or dare?”

The woman gave the Fleshlight a lick. “Truth.”

“How many women have you been with?”

“Is it going to change your opinion about fucking me all day?”

“No.”

“Alright. I’d say, about twenty-five. And I loved each second of each time.”

“Wow. that’s a lot.”

The woman shrugged. “What can I say? I like to fuck.”

Sidney understood completely.

“My turn to ask. Truth or dare?”

Sidney chose dare. “Is it too early to dare you to lick my pussy?” the woman asked. Sidney shook her head, and gave the woman’s pussy one long, slow lick. She didn’t penetrate, just placed her tongue at the bottom of her pussy and dragged it through her slit and over her clit, running her tongue over her landing strip and stopping only when she reached the woman’s belly button.

She looked up. “Truth or dare?”

“I think one last truth should be good.”

Sidney blushed a little. “I’m slightly embarrassed about this but… what’s your name?”

The woman laughed again. “Did I never tell you? Sorry, sometimes these things escape my mind. I’m Elizabeth.”

Sidney smiled. “I think it’s time for a new game. Did you bring anything for funsies?”

Elizabeth ran and grabbed her bag. “Did I ever. How about dice? Throw fate in the air and all that jazz.”

Sidney nodded. “Sounds great. I’m already moist.” Elizabeth cupped Sidney’s mound. It was true. She smiled.

---

Faoril is a dirty, filthy mage trying to forget her pain in heaving bodies and spurting cocks.

The Knight and the Acolyte
Book Six: Heart’s Longing
Chapter Two: Dirty Mage
By mypenname3000
Copyright 2016

Note: Thanks to B0b for beta reading this.

Journeyman Faoril – The Golden Hunger, the Nimborgoth

The spurt of hot cum into my pussy triggered another orgasm. It was a small one do to my exhaustion. I had cum so many, many times this night, letting pirate after pirate fuck me. Use me. The pirate atop me grunted, his eyes rolling back in his head. I stroked his pectoral muscles as my cunt spasmed about his dick, milking out his cum, joining the dozens of other loads that had emptied into me.

Filling me with degrading seed.

“Vedr’s queef,” the pirate groaned and rolled off of me. “You drained me, wench. Every drop.”

“Drained all of us,” a drowsy man muttered.

I lay on my back in the hold of the pirate ship, staring up at the dark ceiling. The Golden Hunger rocked in the Nimborgoth’s swell, creaking and groaning. My hand idly caressed my body. Everywhere I touched I felt cum drying. The crew of the pirate ship had drenched me.

Dirtied me.

I was dirty, filthy. Relaria’s yowls screeched through my mind again. I grit my teeth and forced myself to sit up. My head swam. Exhaustion pulled on me. I needed to be filled again. I was so empty inside.

But I had worn out all the pirates. I fell back on the floor, too exhausted to move, to cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thrak

“Pater’s mighty cock!” screamed Capitan Thyrna as I rammed my dick into the tight glove of her asshole. My dick ached. I had not used it so much in such a short time, fucking her over and over for hours. Dawn approached. Not even as a youth, when I discovered the joys of self-gratification, had I cum so many times in a night.

“Las-damned damiana,” I cursed, slamming my dick into her bowels. It kept me hard even as I reamed the beautiful and passionate pirate captain’s ass. Her wavy-black hair spilled across her dark-brown, supple back. She arched into me, her bowels gripping my abused cock.

“I thought you were a warrior,” she hissed, throwing a fierce look over her face. “Fuck me! Show me that orc passion!”

My hands tightened on her hips. My hips thrust forward. She had doused me with damiana paste, an aphrodisiac alchemists were fond of making, sometime past midnight. Such lusts it inflamed, driving me to keep fucking her. She couldn’t dominate me with whips or her sharp fingernails.

But she could dominate my cock with trickery.

My thrusts were hard. Sweat rolled down my body, stinging the welts from her cat o’ nine tails and the scratches from her fingernails. I ignored the pain and the ache in my dick as I slammed into her bowel’s velvety grip. My balls smacked into her taint.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she hissed. “Give it to me. Mmm, I own every cock on my ship.”

“Las-damned whore!” My hand cracked down on her ass, leaving a burning, red print glowing amid her golden-brown skin.

“Yes!” she yowled, her ass clenching on my cock. “Yes, yes! Fuck me! Gods, your cock! A treasure! Stay on my ship. Reeve and pillage with me! Ooh, the fun we would have.”

A snarl curled my pierced lips. I spanked her ass again.

Her orgasm burst through her. She tossed back her head as she came, her bowels spasming on my cock. I groaned, savoring the grip. She massaged me, working my dick, begging my balls for a final load of cum.

They spasmed and tightened. Agony gripped them that merged into the rapturous friction gripping my cock. My back arched as I drove into her ass faster, harder. I didn’t care how sore the tip of my dick was or how much my balls burned. Ecstasy awaited me.

Another orgasm.

“Gewin’s mighty cock and balls!” I bellowed.

“Yes, yes, give it to me,” she hissed. “Shower me in your lusts!”

“Shower?” I ripped my cock out of her bowels and fisted it. The tip of my swarthy cock was angry red. My balls tightened. A painful rush shot up my cock. “Las-damned whore!”

My cum erupted out the tip. Each blast was a mix of sore agony and rapturous pleasure. My jizz splashed across her side and shoulders before landing on her face. She hissed as I grunted, squeezing out another blast to splatter her face.

“You las-damned savage!” she hissed as my final blast fired and splashed into her mouth. She spat the cum out, glaring at me.

I seized her black hair and pulled her to my cock, wiping the tip off in her hair, matting the dark curls with jizz. The ache shuddering through my dick, particularly when her hair tangled on my bone cock ring, was worth the spitting fury. She kept me from seeing to Faoril all night.

My lover hurt.

“Get out!” she spat, jizz dripping off her face.

“You look good with a male’s seed dripping on your face,” I laughed and picked up my kilt. I pulled it on as she wiped her face off on her sheets.

“You’ll pay for that, Thrak,” she hissed, her smile turning into a violent promise. “Ooh, I will make you pay.”

“You can try,” I said and strapped my great axe to my back. “Anytime you want a facial, just ask.”

She screeched at me as I walked out of her cabin. I needed to find Faoril. A short hallway led out to the deck. Four doors lined the passageway, the smaller cabins for passengers. I opened the first door and found Chaun sleeping on a hammock. I closed the door and tried the second.

“Hmm?” a sleepy Sophia asked as I peered in. She blinked at me as her hammock swung. Angela lay sprawled on the other, lying on her stomach, her arm dangling off the side.

“Just looking for Faoril,” I answered.

Sophia mumbled something unintelligent and then fell back onto her hammock. I tried not to ogle her naked breasts. I knew she wouldn’t appreciate it. I closed the door and tried the last two, but both were empty.

Frowning, I stepped onto the deck and almost ran into Minx. The halfling stretched her back as she looked up at me, her eyes bleary. “You look as tired as I feel, Orc.”

I grunted.

“Captain Thyrna tested your stamina.” A mischievous grin crossed her lips. “I see she took the lash to you.”

“Tried to.” My eyes swept the deck. In the bow, Xera sat cross-legged, her eyes closed as she leaned back against the railing. The first rays of the rising sun caught the top of her dark-green hair, picking out individual strands.

Faoril’s red robes lay in the middle of the deck, discarded. My stomach twisted. “Where’s Faoril?”
“Below deck,” Minx said. “I think she fucked every sailor on the Golden Hunger four times. They were at it all night. That girl really loves cocks.”

“And cum,” I muttered.

“She’s your lover, right? Maybe she didn’t like you fucking the captain all night.”

“She’s a mage. Female mages are all cum-sluts.” And maybe it was good. Maybe she would be in a better mood after being gangbanged. “You should find your bed.”

“Uh-huh,” Minx nodded and yawned again. “Couldn’t sleep all night, too excited from the robbery, and then the sun rose and BAM! I can hardly keep ’em open.”

The halfling padded around me and through the door to the cabins. I marched out into the center of the deck and scooped up Faoril’s robes. The pockets clinked, each weighed down by her arcane supplies. Her robe had a dozen or more pockets for her to secret small items in. Frowning, I walked down into the dark hold.

The reek of cum assaulted my nose. It was overpowering. So much jizz stained the air. Dark forms lay slumped across the floor, snoring, all naked men. And at the center, my Faoril lay on her back, her body almost white from the crusty spunk staining her. A puddle formed between her thighs, oozing out of her pussy.

“Well, you must have gathered enough cum to last you a month.”

Faoril’s eyes opened. “I guess.” Her words were dull, slurred. Her eyes bleary. She yawned and sat up. “I’m filthy.”

I nodded my head. “Yeah, being gangbanged by a crew of pirates will do that.”

She nudged one with her foot.

He groaned and opened his eyes. “You drained me, wench. Ain’t got nothin’ left fer you.”

“I need to bathe.”

“Can’t use the fresh water,” he said. “But I can pull you up some buckets of saltwater. Least I could do after we all drenched you.” He laughed and glanced at me. “That’s one wild woman you travel with. Suspect you know.”

“I know.” I studied Faoril. “But you can just use your magic to clean yourself, Faoril.”

She waved a hand at me as she forced herself to stand. A flood of cum poured out of her pussy and down her thighs. “Salt-waters fine. Too tired to use magic.”

Faoril stumbled to me. Even her hair was soiled. Her brown locks were matted and tangled. Streaks of dried cum silvered her locks. More flaked off as she tottered past me. I grabbed her as she almost fell.

She wrenched her arm from me.

“Faoril?” I frowned.

“I’m fine. Just need bath and sleep.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I followed her up the stairs to the deck. More cum leaked out of her ass, making a mess of her crack. She made it on deck and almost fell again as the ship pitched on a swell. The mast swayed above us.

“Vedr’s queef,” cursed the sailor who followed us. “Dawn’s up. Gonna be a long-cursed day.”

Faoril made it to the railing and sank down while the sailor fetched a wooden bucket and attached it to a length of rope. I sank down beside her, leaned on the railing, and studied her. She pulled her legs up, her breasts pressing into her thighs as she rested her chin on her knees.

“What happened in the palace?”

“Nothing.”

“Faoril.”

She glanced at me, her light-brown eyes dull. “Fought a master mage. Didn’t I tell you that?”

“But what else?” It had to be more than her fear of being branded a warlock and sentenced to death by the Magery Council. She was a fearless woman. It was deeper, darker. “You didn’t kill him?”

“No.” Her word was short, clipped. “He lived.”

“When we finish the quest and slay the dragon, the council will understand why you did it. Besides, he attacked you.”

“Doesn’t matter.” She glanced at her red robes. “I’m not a mage any longer. I’m a warlock. I don’t even have to wear this. I can wear what I want.”

“You’re still a mage.” I reached out to put an arm around her but she shied away.

“I’m filthy, Thrak.”

“I don’t mind,” I answered. “It’s mostly dried anyways.”

The sailor dropped the bucket of seawater before her. Some sloshed over the rim. She seized it, grunting beneath its weight, and dumped the water over her head. It flowed over her, washing across her naked flesh and spilling on the deck. A salty scent caught my nose.

Then she grabbed the sleeve of her robe and rubbed at herself. “I’ll need more.”

“Sure, sure,” the sailor said and pitched it over.

It took three more buckets to clean her. I watched her, studying her, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. She was hurting. I wanted to hold her, but she kept claiming to be filthy when I tried, then she would scrub at her body harder with the sleeve of her robe.

Finally she stood dripping, water beading on her skin and flashing like diamonds in the rising sun. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath as her hands ran through her wet hair, squeezing out the excess.

“Faoril, please, talk—”

“I need sleep,” she muttered and walked past me without a word.

I caught her arm and yanked her around. “No, we need to—”

She slapped me. It hardly stung, she weighed so little she couldn’t put much energy into her slaps even if she stood properly. I blinked anyways. “Let me go!” She jerked her arm. “I’m fine, Thrak. Stop asking me.”

I let her go. She stalked across the deck, leaving wet footprints on the pine-yellow planks. Then she crashed through the door to the cabins. It banged shut behind her. My cheek burned. Despite the light tap, it hurt more than the welts and scratches decorating my body.

“Biaute’s tits, what did you do to piss her off?” the sailor asked.

I glared at him.

The sailor raised his hands and backed off. I turned to the sea, my brows furrowing. Something terrible had happened in the palace. Something she was forced to do. What? How could I help her? I leaned on the railing, watching the waves as the sun inched higher and higher, painting swells with caps of gold.

“What is going on?” a sleepy Sophia muttered. “Who’s banging doors?”

“Faoril,” I answered, glancing over my shoulder as the acolyte tottered to me.

She blinked and rubbed sleep from her eyes. “What did the Captain do to you, Thrak? You look like you tumbled through a prickleberry patch.”

“Captain has sharp claws.”

She reached the railing and leaned on it. “We heard. Between you and the captain and Faoril entertaining the entire crew it was hard to get any sleep. And I finally get it and…bang!” She smacked her hand on the railing then winced, shaking her hand. “Why’s Faoril slamming doors?”

“What did she do in the palace last night?”

“I don’t know. She was summoned away from the party before we were attacked. She didn’t want to talk about it after she returned. We were all reeling at how it went wrong.” Sophia sighed. “Still am reeling. I’m a fugitive now. The daughter of a Duchess. My mother will be furious at the scandal this causes. And poor Angela… She sees herself as something good and positive, and robbing a Doge and taking him hostage, well…”

I nodded my head.

“And you’re hurt,” Sophia gasped, shoving a hand into her pocket. “I have a vial here. Let me make you a healing potion.”

“I’m fine.”

“Thrak,” she said, shaking her head even as she opened her robes, “you are covered in scratches and welts. Stop being such an orc and let me heal you.”

A snorting laugh escaped my lips. “I remember when you were afraid of me.”

“I did think you were dangerous.” A smile played on her lips. “I get things wrong a lot. But Angela sees things right. She’s special that way.” Sophia bit her lip then muttered beneath her breath, “Queen’s concubine.”

“What?”

“The sphinx called me that last night,” she said when she opened her robe. “A concubine fit for a queen. Everyone seems to think Angela getting a sword is bad because they fear she’ll try to claim her ancestor’s throne.” Her pink nipple popped into sight, hard atop her small breast. “She doesn’t want that. Yet, why couldn’t a woman rule?”

“Pater rules in heaven, so men rule on earth,” I quoted.

She circled her nipple then froze, her eyes widened. “Turn around. Don’t look at my tits, Thrak!”

I laughed again and turned, but my mirth quickly died as Sophia spoke her prayer and invoked her Goddess’s power. I gripped the railing with my left hand as I puzzled out how to help Faoril. I needed the right words to break through her melancholy.

It was hard to think. My thoughts were sluggish from lack of sleep and my exertions with the captain. After I downed Sophia’s milky potion, the magic soothing the burning scratches and welts, I sought a cabin. I didn’t go into the one Faoril went into. I needed to think.

I stretched myself out on the second hammock in Chaun’s cabin. The ropes creaked and, for a heart beat, I feared my bulk was too great to be supported by the netting of the swaying hammock.

But they held and sleep fell upon me. Before it claimed me, I wished Serisia’s spirit was still with me.

She would know how to help Faoril.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chaun

My eyes opened. The hammock creaked. I blinked and yawned, then glanced to my right. Thrak slept, arms folded across his chest. I had not expected him to sleep here. I groaned, my back sore from sleeping on the hammock.

I rolled out of the swaying hammock and opened my troubadour’s chest. It was a remarkable object. I wooed a twinborn witch, a wanderer like myself, and she made it for me. It could shrink to fit in my pocket or expand to the size of an average traveling chest. And inside it had far more space. I didn’t understand the magics that created it, but it let me carry a vast wardrobe wherever I went.

I needed to be ready to change clothing to fit a wide variety of body sizes and social classes. But today, I went as my normal appearance, slim and tall. I dug around until I found a gold-trimmed, blue doublet and matching hose with a spectacular codpiece. The pattern of gold filaments always attracted a lady’s eye and set her imagination galloping as she wondered on what it contained.

Dressed, I headed onto deck. The captain had emerged, looking beautiful and remote as she barked orders at her sluggish crew. The large men spilled naked or hardly dressed from below deck—Faoril had worn them out.

What a woman to handle so many big men.

“Morning, Captain,” I smiled, fixing her a bow.

She gave me only a contemptuous snort. Most women found me innately attractive in my regular appearance, but the captain had a type, and it wasn’t slim, elfin men with faces verging on beautiful. She liked her men big, hairy. Every one of her crew had barrel chests and broad shoulders, and the way she looked at them was possessive.

But which man did she fancy? I stared at her, my psychic senses reaching out. Every woman in the world had someone in her past or present whom she loved if she didn’t love anyone in the present. It would be a man whose appearance I could transform into and seduce the women. I preferred married women—they always shone with a white aura, attracting me with the urge to seduce them and impregnate them while wearing their husband’s faces—but even a single woman had her charm.

Nothing.

No man appeared in my mind. No lover from her past. No one who she loved now. Even Sophia, a lesbian to her core, had once had a childish crush on a groom when she was a sweet, young maid. I had never met a woman of a duel-sexed raced that I couldn’t affect. And the captain was human.

Or she appeared to be human.

She had never loved before. Was that possible? I scanned the deck. Xera sat cross-legged, asleep in the bow while Sophia bent over the railing, her laughter occasionally rising over the creak of sails as the pirate crew worked in the rigging. The ship lurched, the breeze catching in the sails, taking us south to the Island of Birds.

I moved to Sophia. She stared at a pod of dolphins frolicking around the ship, their sleek, gray bodies breaking the surface, their nickering songs echoing. Delight played on her youthful face as she clapped her hands.

“Oh, they’re as beautiful as the tales,” she smiled. “Aren’t they, Chaun?”

I nodded my head. “The captain’s not human.”

“Oh?” Sophia frowned, glancing at Captain Thyrna as she strolled the stern deck, hissing orders. “What is she?”

I shrugged.

“Does it matter?”

I shrugged again.

“You’re a lot of help.”

I shrugged a third time.

Sophia punched me in the shoulder. We both laughed as I rubbed where she hit. She leaned on the railing, smiling at the dolphins as they swam along the ship, playing in the spray from the bow as it knifed through the waters.

I studied her profile. “When did you start liking me?”

“When you risked your life to stop the dwarf queen. I think. But I did know you were hiding something.” She grinned at me. “It was so obvious.”

I winced. “Was it?”

She nodded her head. “But Lady Delilah… You really have no idea what she plans?”

“Nor why she gave Angela that necklace or why that Fireeyes had its twin. I only know the Warlock from stories.”

Sophia sighed and rested her head on the railing. “Something more is going on than just this Quest. My Goddess visits me in my dreams sometimes. She doesn’t just do that for anyone.”

“You’re hardly anyone, Sophia.”

She snorted. “I was the worst acolyte at the temple. A spoiled brat using my mother’s power and wealth to escape my responsibilities.”

“You’re special,” I nodded. “I can see it. You’ll be remembered in songs, Sophia. The acolyte at the fugitive knight’s side, with her from the beginning until the end when she slays the dragon.”

“And when she’s queen,” Sophia whispered. “Her concubine.”

“That would be a great story.” A smile crossed my lips. “An epic song that requires only the best bard to pen it.”

Sophia laughed. “Who would that be?”

“You wound me,” I sighed tragically, and then we laughed together. It felt wonderful after last night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Knight-Errant Angela

I woke to swaying, my stomach rumbling. The entire boat moved and rolled. I groaned as I sat up. My head ached. I swung my feet off my hammock and forced myself to dress in my armor. I was still a knight in spirit even if my actions at the Saltspray Palace would see my spurs taken and my name stricken from the rolls, attainted.

I would kill the dragon. I had come this far already. I had suffered, bled, and fought. I had two pieces of my ancestor’s sword. Two-fifths of the weapon complete. And we had the adamantium, recovered at great danger from the abandoned dwarf mines. We would soon have the third piece. The Captain said we would arrive at the Island of Birds around evening.

I adjusted my stance as the ship rocked beneath me. Sunlight streamed through the small, round window in the cabin. I think it was called the porthole. I glanced out it, but all I saw was endless blue, the water rippling in the sunshine.

I left my cabin and walked out into the deck. The sun was low on the horizon. A few hours passed dawn and…I frowned. The sun was on my right, but if we sailed south, that meant my right was west. So the sun was setting not rising. I blinked.

“There you are, sleepyhead,” Sophia called. “I was fearing you wouldn’t wake up.”

“Well, I was up all last night emptying my stomach,” I said. My stomach growled. No wonder I felt empty. An entire day spent in bed.

“There’s food down below. Ask one of the sailors.” She grimaced. “It’s fish stew and it’s not great.”

“It’s better than nothing,” I smiled.

Sophia shrugged her shoulders.

Chaun sat near her, strumming his lyre and singing a festive song which had the pirate crew moving around with a jaunt in their step. Minx giggled and danced before him, her little hips shaking while Xera sat cross-legged and watched. Thrak was in the bow, staring at the sea.

“Faoril?”

“She’s sleeping longer than you,” Sophia answered. “Well, she did fuck the entire crew last night.” Her smile slipped. “Thrak’s worried about her.”

“Because she fucked the entire crew?”

Sophia shook her head. “He thinks she’s hurting from fighting the mage last night.”

I frowned and then my stomach rumbled. I had to eat. I could hardly blame Faoril for being down. All her dreams were snatched away. She would be branded a warlock just as I would be branded a knave. Both of us would be expelled from our organizations, labeled fugitives and criminals.

I pushed away those thoughts as I descended into the hold. It smelled of musty sex and needed airing out. I found the galley where a greasy-stained pirate ladled me a large bowel of thick, brown stew with chunks of white fish and indeterminate vegetables floating in it. It was salty. I almost gagged with my first bite, but I forced myself to chew and swallow.

I did get a curious fruit called an orange to go with it. Once I cracked through the hard rind, the juicy pulp inside melted in my mouth. It washed away all the bad taste of stew and left my belly feeling full.

My fingers and lips sticky, I headed on deck. The breeze blew my red hair, wafting it about my head. I breathed in the salt smell as I walked to Sophia as she leaned on the right—starboard—railing. Her white robes pressed to the curves of her ass as she wiggled her hips.

A hot itch rushed through me. Last night, she had stayed up caring for me with my seasickness and feeding me her enchanted breast milk. She was such a wonderful person. And so beautiful. Her brown hair fluttered about her head, playing on the curve of her neck.

A pale neck. A kissable neck.

My armor clinked as I strolled across the deck. She glanced beside me and pointed ahead of the ship. A dark shape rose on the horizon, a cone thrusting into the air, hazy purple, its flanks darker, touched with green.

Mount Peritito thrusting above the Nimborgoth from the heart of the Island of Birds. A volcano. I stared at the summit. Clouds covered the tip, dark and angry. Or was it smoke belching from the mountain’s core? I hoped the Temple of Fire, where the avian shamans had hidden the piece of my ancestor’s sword, had not been disturbed by any eruptions.

“It’s huge,” Sophia said, squirming as I wrapped my arms around her. Her ass pressed into my chainmail loincloth, the metal links brushing my clit.

Pleasure sparked through me.

“Yes, it is,” I moaned, my nipples hardening beneath my breastplate, rubbing on the cool metal. I leaned in and kissed Sophia’s neck. “Big and huge, thrusting out of the sea.”

“Ooh, don’t talk about it like it’s a giant cock,” Sophia groaned. “It’s a big breast, sweeping upward, topped by a lactating nipple.”

“Like your nipples?” I asked, my hand sliding up her robe to cup her breasts through it. “Pink and bursting with white milk.”

“Yes,” she groaned, shifting more. “Are you feeling better? Your stomach settled?”

“Yes,” I whispered, kissing her neck again. She tasted so wonderful. My hands tightened on her tits.

“That’s good,” she groaned, arching her neck, giving me access. I licked up to her ear. I nibbled and flicked it while her nipples hardened beneath the cloth of her robes. I pinched them through it, bringing a shuddering moan from her lips. “Mmm, we could try to make love in the hammocks. It might be fun.”

“Might,” I purred and slid my right hand down her robe. I found the ties. “But it’s so beautiful out here.”

She stiffened in my arms as the cloth ties whisked together, the knot coming undone. Her robe fell loose. “Angela? There are men around.”

“We’ve made love before Thrak and Chaun.”

“I don’t like it,” she whispered. “But they’re part of our group. The pirates are strangers.”

My pussy clenched. A hot thrill ran through me. My hands shoved into her open robe to caress her naked body directly. I slid up and down her flesh, brushing her shaved pubic mound and the bottom swells of her small breasts.

“Slave, if I order you to parade naked around the ship, you will do it.”

“Of course, Mistress,” she shuddered, her voice so sweet. “But…please don’t. All those men. It would be so embarrassing.”

My pussy clenched. Juices leaked out. My right hand found her tit. I squeezed it as I nibbled on her neck. “Mmm, it would make me so wet, slave. I want you to walk slowly around the deck. Let them see your lovely body. Be graceful, proud. You are a beautiful woman.”

“Your concubine,” groaned Sophia.

I liked that word. “Yes. My concubine.”

Sophia shuddered, her shoulders wiggling, the robe sliding off her flesh. “I’m am ever your obedient concubine…my Queen.”

Queen… I liked this new game.

The robes landed on the deck between our feet, her ivory flesh exposed. Her brown hair fell about her shoulders, her curvy ass begged to be squeezed. She turned, her small tits bouncing, her nipples so hard. I smiled at the gleam slicking her thighs.

Embarrassed or not, submitting to my commands and parading her flesh made her wet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Acolyte Sophia

Every last pirate stared at me. All those big, ugly, brawny, stupid men leered at my exposed flesh. Their eyes hungered. Their rough hands clenched. They wanted to touch me, grab me, fuck me. But I wasn’t theirs. I was Angela’s. My Mistress’s. My Queen’s.

I was her concubine. Her devoted slave.

My pussy clenched as the rush of embarrassed heat surged through my body. I groaned and bit my lip. My nipple ached as I forced myself to turn, wearing only my soft leather shoes and woolen socks. I took a deep breath, so aware of my hard nipples and bouncing breasts.

I walked slowly, stately, my back straight. I would not bow before the gaze of these men. I would please my mistress. I stared straight ahead, calm, poised. I was the daughter of Duchess Catherine of Tith, an acolyte of the Goddess Saphique, the concubine-slave to my Queen.

“What a scrumptious catch,” a sailor called. “Biaute’s tits, look at her.”

“It’d be worth Saphique’s curse to enjoy her flesh.”

My cheeks reddened and my ears burned.

“I hear Saphique’s virgins have the tightest cunt. Bet she would squeal on my big sticker.”

“What ’bout her ass. Such a tight, sweet ass. Her goddess wouldn’t mind if we took a poke there. She’d still be virgin. Near enough.”

“I think you’re right.”

Juices trickled out of my pussy as my heart labored. Danger swirled around me. My oaths to stay pure were threatened but I kept walking. I reached the port railing and turned, following its sweep, trying to ignore the words spilling out of the rigging.

“What if you just sucked my prick? Promise not to spill my seed in your mouth. Just a quick suck.”

“You fire off the moment those sweet lips wrapped around your twig.”

“So would you.”

“Aye, she’s got a sweet mouth. A cock-sucking mouth.”

I forced myself not to wet my dried lips. I would not encourage them. I swept past Chaun, a large grin on the changeling’s face as he ogled me. Minx laughed and danced around me, her hands grabbing my butt-cheeks.

“She does have a great ass,” the halfling chortled, her small hands pulling my cheeks apart. “Shame none of you men can do this.”

I almost jumped when her tongue swiped across my sphincter. But I kept my poise and marched straight-back, obeying my Queen’s command. Angela watched me, her blue eyes hungry, her thighs pressed together.

As much as being forced to walk naked before all these men excited me, they made my mistress drip. Her lusts were so obvious. She bit her lip and squirmed when I reached the bow. Thrak did not look up from his brooding as I swept passed him.

“Ooh, look at those titties bounce. I would love to suck on her nipples.”

“I hear a priestess can produce milk like a mother. I would love to suckle from those teats. Come on, just give us a taste.”

“Vedr’s queef, I want a piece of that cunt.”

“That knight would cut off your balls if Saphique didn’t shrivel them.”

I nodded my head. My Queen would.

My eyes were locked on Angela now as I walked the starboard railing to my mistress. My pussy burned. Juices ran down my thighs. I had such a hot cunt. I wanted to shove my hands between my thighs and frig myself to an orgasm.

But I had self-control.

Angela nodded her head, imperious, when I reached her. Then I fell to my knees before her, staring up at my Mistress, my body quaking as desires tumbled through me. “Did I please you, my Queen?”

“Yes, you did,” she answered, her voice throaty. She ran a hand through my brown hair. “You more than pleased me.”

“Do you need the satisfaction of my lips?”

She nodded once.

I closed my eyes, so aware of all the men watching us, and lifted her metal loincloth, exposing her shaved lips beading with juices and engorged with her passion. I breathed in her tangy musk. I could shower in her scent. Revel in it.

I pressed my lips into her pussy and licked. My thighs clamped tight, caressing my clit, as my tongue slid through her folds, teasing her engorged labia. Angela let out the softest sigh, her hips undulating as the pleasure rippled through her.

“Mmm, my sweet concubine,” she sighed as I licked again.

My hands stroked her thighs above her boots, caressing her sleek skin as my tongue moved. The chainmail was cold on my cheek, the links rough. I didn’t care. I closed my eyes and concentrated on pleasing Angela.

The coarse words of the pirates faded. They didn’t matter. Only pleasing my Queen mattered.

My tongue flicked faster and faster, flying through her folds, giving her such sweet pleasure. Her hips undulated. She ground on me. Her clit throbbed against my lips. I nibbled on it, bringing sharp gasps of bliss from her while my fingers massaged her thighs, touching her, caressing her, giving her another sensation.

“You little slut, yes,” groaned Angela. “Worship my cunt.”

My clit throbbed between my thighs. I could bring myself to orgasm, but I was here to please Angela, not myself. I nibbled on her clit and sucked on it. The little organ throbbed as she bucked. Her moans were so sweet. Her back arched, the afternoon sun flashing off the curves of her breastplate.

My hands moved up her thighs, reaching for pussy. She shivered as my fingers massaged around her vulva, caressing the engorged flesh. She was plump with excitement. I sucked harder on her clit and let my tongue piercing bat the little nub while my fingers parted her labia.

“Sophia!”

I smiled, my fingers teasing her folds. I caressed her labia minora before I let my fingers dip into her pussy’s hole. I teased her, sliding them in and pulling them out, loving the way her moans sang from her lips. I brought her closer and closer to the brink of her orgasms.

Then I backed off.

Angela let out a frustrated hiss, trembling above me. Her fingers tightened in my hair, forcing my lips to suck on her clit. I teased her nub, flicking it with my tongue while my fingers kept dipping and retreating from her pussy hole. I gaged her pleasure, sensing her orgasm building in her. She trembled, on the cusp.

I pulled my fingers back. My tongue stopped playing with her clit.

“Make me cum,” she hissed.

“Yes, my Queen.”

I jammed three fingers into her pussy’s depths. My tongue piercing battered her clit over and over. I fingered her faster, her pussy clenching and relaxing on my digits as they churned her depths. Frothy pussy juices coated my fingers while she bucked and gasped.

And then she exploded. Her voice sang out across the boat as her passion spilled into my mouth. I drank down the wonderful flood. My clit throbbed. I controlled myself, resisting the urge to masturbate myself to a screaming orgasm.

“You wonderful slut. Oh, yes. My concubine. My sweet concubine, yes.”

She bucked again, another orgasm knifing through my Mistress. Her pussy spasmed hard on my fingers, massaging them. I loved the thrill. Her juices coated my lips in her sticky pleasure. And then she stood back.

The crew exploded in applause.

My ears burned again as I stared up at Angela. She hauled me to my feet and spun me around, pressing me against the railings. Her fingers thrust into my pussy from behind, ramming deep into me while her thumb rubbed my clit.

“I know you’re wet, slut,” she hissed as I groaned, my eyes staring on the Island of Birds. It loomed closer and closer, the jungle dark-green about the mountain’s large flanks. “I know showing off soaked you. I can feel it. All those men watching you, lusting for you, but none of them get to touch you.”

“None, my Queen,” I gasped, my pussy clenching on her fingers, my clit aching against her rubbing thumb. “Angela. I…I…”

“You can cum, slut!”

“Yes!”

All the excitement that had built up while I walked naked around the ship, all the embarrassing comments, ignited a furious orgasm in me. It was hot to tease those men with my forbidden body. It was enthralling to obey my Queen and bare my body before them. My head tossed back as my pussy spasmed on her fingers.

I screamed out my passion over the sea as we sailed closer and closer to Baraconia.

My body bent over the railing, my hair dangling towards the sea below. But Angela held me, her fingers pumping, keeping the orgasm alive as it crashed through my body. I gasped and shuddered, grinding back into her ass. My body shuddered. The pleasure burst so hard through me. I groaned, my eyes rolling back in my head.

“Cernere’s nimble fingers,” Minx shouted, “that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I only groaned in agreement as the sailors cheered again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thrak

Faoril emerged from the cabin as the ship pulled into the fishing village of Llanes, carved out of the thick jungle of the Island of Birds, built of wood, the houses on stilts, with docks thrusting out into the green lagoon. According to the captain, she had an agreement with the halfling elders to dock her ship here. It was an hours walk from Baraconia, and hidden from the sight of passing ships.

Female halflings swarmed the docks, looking like children at play until they grabbed the hawsers thrown by the sailors. Hardly a male halfling could be seen. One supervised the working women. More women bustled through the village, their hair flashing in the sun as it set over the southern flank of Mount Peritito. The volcano loomed over all, a black cone thrusting above the island, its summit bare of any vegetation, a dome of dark-gray clouds hovering over it.

“Feeling better?” I asked Faoril as she swept to the railing.

She shrugged her shoulders, an awkward gesture with her knapsack slung over one. Those with horses traded saddlebags with the pirates for knapsacks. Angela, Chaun, and Sophia had ragged bags slung over their shoulders, holding their possessions.

It was a shame Angela had to leave Midnight, her massive warhorse, behind in Raratha. When the plan had failed spectacularly, there was no way to bring the horses along. But her armor still gleamed, her shield still strong, and her sword still sharp. She was still a knight.

The gangplank ran out to the dock, and Faoril was the first down it, rushing from the ship. I swallowed; it was almost like she fled from me. I moved to follow, but a soft hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me short.

The captain stood there, her eyes sultry and hungry and furious all at the same time. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in my ear, “You will be mine, orc.”

Then she nipped my lobe above my thick, bone ear expander. I didn’t wince. Blood trickled hot. She had notched me. Marked me.

“You’ll be begging for my facial,” I told her.

She hissed. A challenge.

My cock tented my kilt as I headed down the gangplank, the last one off the ship. Faoril strode ahead, Xera rushing to catch up to her. I stepped onto the dock, sweeping past the female halflings who gaped at me.

“Madam Knight,” the captain called, “I will await you as we agreed upon. You intrigue me.”

Angela turned and nodded her head.

I felt the captain’s eyes on my back as I marched through the village, my long strides carrying me past Angela and Sophia, then Chaun strumming his lute, and finally to Faoril and Xera at the front. I fell in beside my woman.

She did not look at me but ahead, her face slack, her shoulders slumped. I sighed. I still had no idea what to say. I had to find something, anything, to reach her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Journeyman Mage Faoril – The Free City of Baraconia, the Island of Birds<?strong>

I hardly noticed the hour walk down the jungle road. The thick canopy swallowed the sun and darkness descended rapidly. I only stared ahead, focused on the glimpses of the large city of Baraconia, one of the halfling cities that dotted the Nimborgoth, through the thick foliage. Like Raratha, Baraconia belonged to the League of Seven—the free cities of humans, halflings, and nixies allied through trade negotiations and pacts of mutual defense. They controlled all commerce across the large sea. The emptiness in me had to be filled, and facts about trade was better than nothing—Baraconia specialized in rare hardwoods, epoxies, gems from the earth’s heart found in the volcano above, and alchemical ingredients.

Out of the jungle, dusk settled over Baraconia, some of the sun’s fading light still reaching the city. It swept around the bowl of its harbor. It was a strange city, the buildings smaller, sized for halflings and not humans. If Thrak stood on his tiptoes, he could peer into the second floor of many buildings.

Minx led us through the city, her home before she went to Raratha. She guided us to the docks where buildings took on sizes with which I was more familiar. Thrak was beside me the whole way, straining to find words to fill me.

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. I was filthy. Serisia was wrong about me.

We reached the Pirate’s Noose, an inn Minx recommended. We stepped into the cheery common room. Chaun felt right at home and soon had the sailors, the inn’s main patrons, singing off-colored tunes. He could not help but perform.

The rest of us sank around the table as food was ordered and drinks brought. I sipped at my glass of wine. It was fruity. My stomach roiled. I hadn’t eaten since the Doge’s party last night. I should, but every time I tried on the boat—Thrak left food in my cabin—my appetite vanished.

Food couldn’t fill me. Only one thing could.

I stood, unable to withstand all the cheering and shouting. Thrak glanced at me. His concern sent a stab of anger through me. Why did he have to care so much? Why was he so attentive and helpful? Did he think he could fix me?

“Just using the necessity,” I lied. I didn’t have to make water or waste.

“Okay.” His gruff voice had a fragile air about it. He thought I was delicate.

Of course I was. I broke.

I walked through the common room and out into a hallway. I followed it to the inn’s courtyard, stepping into the night air. I leaned against the wall. A moment later, Minx popped out of the inn. I tensed, fearing someone else meant to try and fix me.

But she kept walking past me and out into the city.

My head lolled, searching. A pair of sailors leaned against the courtyard’s wall. Rough men who eyed me. I put on a smile, my hands playing with the knots of my robe. I loosed it, the arcane artifacts in my pockets weighing the cloth, pulling my robe apart and exposing my cleavage.

“It must be so tough being a sailor,” I said.

“Oh, it is,” the first guy said, striding to me.

“Just you and all those other men,” I continued. “No sweet companionship to ease your burdens.”

He stopped before me, a sour reek rolling off of him. I wrinkled my nose but kept smiling. “Yer a sweet peach.” He stroked my cheek. “How much for a tumble?”

My eyes widened. He thought I was a prostitute. Memories flashed to Master Dalria and the Mage’s Chemise, the inn where I whored myself to pay my tab. Rutting with strange men had filled the hurt caused by failing the Test and learning Saoria’s true, disdainful feelings.

“Three silvers,” I purred. I flashed my eye to his friend. “Five to take you both on.”

“Both, eh?” his friend asked, coming closer.

“I have another hole,” I said, my butt-clenching. “I’ll give you a discount if you want to fuck me together.”

“Vedr’s mighty queef,” the first sailor grinned. “Sounds like a ripe deal to me.” His hand reached out, pulling open my robe, exposing my right breast to his leer. “Mighty ripe indeed.”

His hand squeezed my breast. I groaned and sighed. “Money.”

They fumbled, thrusting five silver coins at me. They vanished into my robe’s pockets before the garment slip off my shoulders. They rubbed dirty hands on my tits. I groaned, my pussy juicy and wet.

“Mmm, you boys must be backed up,” I purred, reaching out to grasp their dicks, rubbing them through their britches. “Ooh, I can feel it.”

Thrak stepped out of the inn. He saw me, his eyebrows furrowing, his jaw tightening. “Faoril.”

“I’m busy,” I said. “Me and these two are very busy.”

The first sailor pinched my nipple. “Wait your turn. We already paid for her.”

“Paid?” The word was a fierce growl. Pain shone in his eyes.

I looked away. “Yes, paid. Five silvers.”

“And she’s worth it,” the second sailor groaned, grabbing my ass. “Mmm, gonna enjoy her.”

Thrak’s fist crashed into the sailor’s head. He reeled back and landed in a heap on the courtyard. The other one gaped at his friend then bolted out of the courtyard with the speed of a jackrabbit. Thrak growled something in orcish then stared down at me.

“What are you doing?” I demanded, my pussy on fire. “Why did you follow me?”

“What happened, Faoril?” he asked. He reached out to touch my face.

I batted his hand away. “Nothing!”

He reached again. This time my hand bounced off his wrist. His fingers stroked my cheeks. They were so gentle, so loving. My insides squirmed. I didn’t deserve this. Not after what I did. I looked up at him, my eyes brimming with tears.

“Tell me, Faoril? What happened? What has you eaten up inside?”

Why did he have to keep asking? Why did he have to keep reminding me? Relaria’s yowling death screech echoed through my mind. An innocent. I killed her. And he kept prodding me. He kept needling and demanding. He wouldn’t let me fill my emptiness. He wouldn’t let me find blissful forgetfulness.

“Leave me alone!” exploded from me. My magic followed, bursting out of me, draining the reserves the pirates gave me last night.

The power struck Thrak hard and flung his body.

To be continued…

---

Nymphomania is named after a selection of minor
deities in Greek myth. So just how did these
creatures get connected to an uncontrolable sex drive?
What was the secret to these beings monthly romps in
the night with each other.

***************

“Oh my,” Kasumi said. “What an odd looking apple.”
“Yes, it is an odd one,” the vendor said glancing
at the truly golden apple before her. “I bought it
off a old man a few minutes ago. I was going to have
it for a snack I, but if a fine lady like yourself
would like to try such a delicacy.”
For some reason Kasumi felt certain that she should
buy it. It was pretty and it looked so tasty. A few
minutes later it was in her possession and she was
enjoying the almost honey-like taste of the strange
fruit.
She was feeling strange by the time she reached
home.
“Tadaima!” she called out as she came into the
house, not minding that Nabiki was at school while
Soun and Genma were out doing whatever it was they did
while they were out, and Ranma and Akane had vanished
on some adventure earlier in the day.
She walked into the kitchen, her mouth feeling dry
for some odd reason. She set down her groceries and
started putting most of them away. She felt
altogether odd, and was starting to feel a trace
faint.
“Hello!” somebody called someone from the front.
“Is anybody any home?”
“Oh, Ukyou,” Kasumi called out, setting aside the
groceries in her hurry to reach the voice, feeling a
strange urge to do so.
“Oh hi Kasumi,” Ukyou said setting down her
delivery box. “I guess my clock is broken, I thought
Ranchan would be home from school by now.”
“Excuse me,” Kasumi said confused. She didn’t pay
too much attention to what Ukyou said, she was
spending too much time noticing just how tight Ukyou’s
Okonomiyaki seller’s tights were.
“Todays one of the days they give me time off to
run Ucchans’” Ukyou explained. “I was coming to give
Ranma a little surprise.”
“Oh I see,” Kasumi said faintly. She had forgotten
that Akane and Ranma had gone chasing some random
martial artist earlier that day and so were not likely
to be seen for a week or two. That didn’t matter
since she was not really paying attention anyway.
She was quietly shocked at her behavior, so openly
oogling another woman. But she needed something, and
she needed it bad. The need was getting worse as she
stood there, so she continued to stare.
“Are you okay, Kasumi?” Ukyou said coming closer,
and seeming concerned.
“Why do you ask Ukyou?” Kasumi asked, wrenching her
face to look at the chef’s brown eyes.
“Because you look pale,” Ukyou said. “And you
sound tired, and you keep looking down. Kasumi when
did your eyes turn gold?”
“Hmmm?” Kasumi asked, not paying attention to
anything else but Ukyou’s face. Her descision had
been made, now just to see about implementing it.
“That’s it,” Ukyou said. “I’m putting you to bed.”
Ukyou stepped forward to put an arm around Kasumi to
steady her and started walking deeper into the Tendo
household. Kasumi stumbled along wearily for a moment
before speaking.
“Ukyou-san,” she said. “I do feel I need
something.”
“Yeah, sleep,” Ukyou said, half-carrying Kasumi
along.
“Not precisely,” Kasumi said. Then she tapped her
index finger, and a sharp nail glistening as if
covered with something, into Ukyou’s neck where it put
the shoulder.
“Ouch!” Ukyou gasped. “What the heck ar….”
Her voice trailed off, and Kasumi turned the chef
around to face her. Then she sunk the other hand’s
index finger into Ukyou’s neck on the otherside.
Kasumi smiled gently as Ukyou’s eyes slowly changed to
a grassy green shade.
Ukyou was hers now.
Kasumi leaned forward and kissed the formerly human
chef passionately. She cradled Ukyou’s head gently as
she greedily tasted the essence of Ukyou’s lips,
instantly feeling better.
Ukyou moaned softly and reached her hands around
behind Kasumi as the Tendo girl lowered her to the
floor. Kasumi continued kissing the younger girl for
a minute before raising up over the dazed looking
Ukyou, straddling her.
“I don’t know why,” Kasumi said. “But I’m afraid I
need you Ukyou-san.” She demurely unbuttoned her
blouse and carefully set it aside.
“Kasumi,” Ukyou sighed, blinking. “What are you
doing?” As she asked she reached up to undo Kasumi’s
bra as the elder girl removed her skirt.
Kasumi tossed her skirt aside and lowered herself
down to Ukyou’s face, smiling. A slender hand
caressed Ukyou’s face as another slipped into her top.
Ukyou gasped and arched her back as Kasumi’s hand
brushed over the flesh on her breast.
“Do you want me to stop, Ukyou-san?” Kasumi asked
seriously. She knew somehow that Ukyou would not want
to stop, perhaps by some newly found instinct.
“No, no Kasumi,” Nabiki gasped. “Don’t stop.”
Kasumi smiled and gently pushed Ukyou down, kissing
her on the mouth again, as she efficiently undid the
chef’s top.
Kasumi found her newly sharp fingernails useful to
strip through the bindings hiding Ukyou’s wonderful
breasts. Her other hand roamed down Ukyou’s back,
sending exceptionally pleasant signals racing into
Ukyou’s brain.
Ukyou shrieked in pleasure as Kasumi’s hand slipped
around her front and down between her legs. The chef
clawed at the floor trying to find a grip as Kasumi
smiled down at her, gently and forcifully pleasuring
her.
Kasumi’s free hand finished with the chest bindings
and she began to quietly massage the girl’s breasts,
taking them in turns, flicking the hard nipples and
gentling kneading the soft, pillowy flesh.
Ukyou took great panting breaths as her legs curled
and stretched in response to what Kasumi’s other hand
was doing between her legs. Her eyes remained
unfocused as she gasped and shifted her body to move
with Kasumi.
“Oh my,” Kasumi gasped as she felt a pair of hands
trail down between her legs and rub at her sex through
the panties. She smiled sunnily, still energized from
the taste of Ukyou’s lips and arched her back
slightly, looking up and enjoying the feel.
They continued like this for a few minutes, heavy,
panting breathing punctutated by a few sharp cries.
Then Kasumi felt her lover’s breasts starting to
swell.
“I think you’re ready now,” Kasumi said, as if she
were finishing up in the kitchen. She lowered herself
down again and kissed Ukyou, staring into the younger
girl’s adoring face before closing her eyes.
Then she broke the embrace gently and kissed her
way downward. She licked the hollow of Ukyou’s throat
eliciting a low moan of appreciation as Ukyou’s hands
moved around to Kasumi’s back and snapped the bra
loose, before travelling lower to remove the panties,
tearing those off.
“Oooo!” Kasumi gasped as her undergarments were
ripped off. “Ucchan, be more careful.”
“Hai, Kasumi,” Ukyou said apologetically in the
pause. She leaned upward to kiss Kasumi, but the
older girl gently guided her back down.
“It’s alright,” Kasumi said lowering her head back
down.
“I’m sor…RrIEE! Oh! Oh! Ohhhh!” Ukyou’s eyes
popped wide as Kasumi set her mouth around her nipple
and began to drink. The taste of Ukyou’s milk was
wonderous, like nutmeg and cinnamon, and Kasumi could
feel herself filling with power and life as she move
both her hands around to hold Ukyou’s back upright
after Ukyou jolted them into a seated position.
“Oh Kami, Kasumi!” Ukyou gasped, her breath
continued to come in sharp with soft moans in time to
Kasumi pulling milk from her breasts. She was given a
brief moment to pause and catch her breath as Kasumi
switched breasts, then she was gritting her teeth and
bucking again while Kasumi gently massaged her.
Kasumi’s hands travelled low and gripped the tights
and panties underneath this time, briefly and
reluctantly removing her mouth from Ukyou’s breast. A
thin streamer of golden-white milk dripped from her
mouth and landed on Ukyou’s breast as Kasumi firmly
pulled the tights down from Ukyou’s waist. A little
more oozed out of Ukyou’s nipple and began to mix with
the sweat coating her chest.
Ukyou catching her breath again arched her back
slightly to help Kasumi removing her last item of
clothing. And then they were both completely naked.
Kasumi slipped one leg between Ukyou’s and entwined
with the other as she bent down to eagerly lick up the
golden treat that was lightly smeared across Ukyou’s
breasts. Then she returned to the rock hard needles
and the milk still within.
Ukyou and Kasumi bucked their groins against each
other stimulating their lower regions. Kasumi had to
fight to keep from pulling away from the breast and
its milk and howlind in sheer ecstacy a few times.
Ukyou, had no such job for her mouth and she
uninhibitedly screamed out her pleasure while
clutching at Kasumi as if her life depended on it.
Then Kasumi broke off from Ukyou’s breasts. She
smiled up at the exhausted seeming chef who gave
Kasumi a questioning, but adoring look wondering why
Kasumi was doing this to her, but not complaining.
Kasumi traveled down lower until her face was
between Ukyou’s legs. She smiled sunnily again, and
licked some of the golden-white milk off of her face
in a manner that was both demure and seductive. Then
she ducked her head down, her hands gripping and
massaging Ukyou’s rear end.
Ukyou felt the tongue begin to explore her inner
most self and moaned, eyes rolling back as she dropped
from her half sitting position to hit the floor.
Small nips sent occasionally spikes in the overall
pleasure that consisted of her buttocks being neatly
massaged while she was being orally examined.
“I suppose you’re almost ready again,” Kasumi said
raising up for a moment and smiling as Ukyou’s legs
wrapped around her tightly.
One hand travelled from Ukyou’s firm ass and then
Ukyou felt something larger than a tongue slipping
inside her and exploring deeper.
The tension was enormous, and despite her calm
exterior, Ukyou could vaguely sense it in her lover as
well. She wanted to release that tension but first
Kasumi needed something else from her, or at least so
Ukyou felt.
Ukyou held back her cries against the growing
tension trying to let it build to a peak before it
released. She was feeling herself break, and held
back. The longer she held against it, the better it
would be, but it was so hard. She didn’t want this to
be over yet.
And then Kasumi took her fingers out of Ukyou’s
sex. Before the chef had time to lose her momentmum,
however, Kasumi dipped her head lower and virtually
attacked Ukyou with her tongue in a passion and fervor
that Ukyou hadn’t thought Kasumi possessed.
Then Ukyou exploded with a loud piercing cry,
releasing into Kasumi’s face. Kasumi greedily licked
up the vital liquid. It’s taste and vigor were a
hundred times more vital than the taste of Ukyou’s
milk, a thousand times more so than her lips.
Ukyou slowlly and surely came down from the climax,
muscles relaxing and falling limp as she recovered.
Kasumi sat up over the insensate Ukyou and virtually
pawed at herself like a cat to swallow all of Ukyou’s
cum.
She was still burning with desire, both more and
less incessant than the original drive of what she now
recognized as hunger. There no longer a fear of
fainting away and possibly dying, but she perhaps
needed something else now even more so than before
from Ukyou. She remained pawing at herself, clutching
desperately at her own groin and rubbing at her
breasts, desirous of relief.
As she thought of that Ukyou recovered, her martial
artist stamina bringing her back quickly, and saw
Kasumi masturbating in front of her. She quickly
wrapped her arms around the other girl and licked at
Kasumi’s tits, her hand moving lower to massage the
older girl’s mound.
Kasumi’s ministrations were firm but gentle.
Ukyou’s came on like the sea raised to fury by the
winds. She voraciously attended Kasumi’s breasts with
her mouth while sending one hand slamming into
Kasumi’s self and the other strongly gripped at her
rounded rear-end, not so firm as Ukyou’s but surely
nothing to laugh at.
“No…t…so…hh..ha..rd, Ukyou-chan,” Kasumi
gasped as her momentum built like a steam-rolling
train. “I can’t…can’…OOHHHHHHHHHHH
MYYYYYYIEEEEE!!!” Kasumi bent forward, physically
spent but feeling incredibly recharged.
Ukyou held her, still seeming both confused and
uncaring at the same time.
After a few minutes Kasumi kissed Ukyou lightly and
pulled away from her. With her life force filled and
refreshed a race memory, mostly magical, but partially
genetic, had made her aware of many things.
She was a nymph now, having eaten one of the golden
apples, Ukyou was her first dryad. Ukyou would love
her, forever, and feed her forever. She would need to
taste Ukyou’s lips, milk and honey to refresh herself.
Once a month, at least, she would have to call Ukyou
to her like this in order to continue to live.
Ukyou would not be able to feed her alone, however,
not without killing her. Fortunately, Kasumi had just
enough venom left for one other dryad, and that was
all she needed. Which was fortunate since she would
not rebuild another charge for the next fifty or sixty
years.
She briefly thought about warning Ukyou about her
needs, but wondered what the point was. Ukyou would
receive the same knowledge she had after seducing her
first naiad, and she would be just as desperate to
proceed as Kasumi had been.
“Kasumi,” Ukyou asked panting. “What just
happened?” Kasumi smiled and reached down to kiss
Ukyou lovingly. She hoped that Ukyou would come over
more than once a month.
“I needed you, Ucchan,” Kasumi said, once more
using the nickname. “Thank you. Now, I believe you
need to return to your restaurant to handle business.”
“Hai, Kasumi,” Ukyou said wearily. “Ummm…thank
you too.” She stood up and collected her clothes,
which Kasumi had made sure not to damage.
“Let us wash up in the furo before you leave,
dear,” Kasumi said.
“Hai,” Ukyou said dreamily, already imagining that
undertaking.

*****

Kasumi waved the confused Ukyou off and smiled
gently before turning inside. She found herself
facing Nodoka, and recognizing what she was.
“Kasumi-ch…sama,” Nodoka said. “How did you
become a nymph?”
“I bought an apple from a street vendor today,”
Kasumi said. Nodoka was naiad already, and not
connected to anyone that Kasumi could see, meaning she
was born that way. It certainly explained Ranma’s
appetite. “He said he bought it off an old…Ranma
goes by that place most days.”
“In girl form to acquire cheaper prices,” Nodoka
said. “He does make very good unconscious use of his
resources.”
“Happosai,” Kasumi sighed.
“He was probably hoping for a permanent,
sex-crazed, Ranma-chan,” Nodoka sighed.
“It would have been interesting to have seen
Happosai’s face when it didn’t do anything to Ranma,”
Kasumi said smiling. Nodoka nodded and considered.
“Do you have anything in the collective memory that
would say what would happen if we triggered Ranma’s
race memories,” she asked. “He already feels like a
naiad in both forms. So the curse allowed the
transformation to sort of transfer to his male body.”
“Hence the huge appetite and the incredibly
powerful chi reserves,” Kasumi sighed. “The naiads
are best suited to war. I am sorry, Nodoka-san, I
know nothing of what would happen.” Nodoka looked
down after Ukyou.
“Is she your first?” Nodoka asked. Kasumi nodded.
“Perhaps, if you take Akane as your second…” Kasumi
made a highly distasteful face at the suggestion.
“Even if I were inclined,” Kasumi said. “She is
gone with Ranma.
“I understand,” Nodoka sighed apologetically.
“Please forgive the suggestion, I worry about her and
Ranma sometimes, and if she needed him, or rather her,
in a more immediate manner…”
“She doesn’t need to be a dryad to convince her to
marry Ranma,” Kasumi said. “And it would be a poor
idea to convince her to do so by such means.”
“Then I’ll leave you to your privacy to acquire
the second,” Nodoka said
“Thank you, Nodoka-san,” Kasumi said, relieved.
“Tell me, Nodoka-san, would you be willing?”
“If Ukyou or your second somehow waste their
changes,” Nodoka said. “I’ll be willing to step in
and help them live until the venom recharges, but I’d
rather avoid any permanent ties. I rather like
avoiding attention.”
“Thank you, Nodoka-san,” Kasumi said again. Naiads
had it relatively easy, all they did to recoup their
life force was eat a tremendous amount of food. At
least there was a safety net for her love.
“I shall be by again tomorrow,” Nodoka said then
she smirked knowingly. “Be sure to take your fill,
Kasumi-sama.” Kasumi blushed brightly as Nodoka
walked away.

*****

“Ukyou-sama,” Konatsu said wearily. “Are you
okay?” The chef was leaning wearily against the
counter and staring dazedly into space. And what had
she done to change her eyes to that orange-gold.
“I’m just feeling a little…strange,” she told her
ninja.
She glanced down at her finger nails, they were
slightly longer, and she thought harder and sharp.
She felt oddly tempted to flex her fingers but some
instinct warned her against doing so wastefully. She
didn’t know what it would waste however.
“I see,” Konatsu said. “I heard that Ranma and
Akane are again out of the area.”
“Oh damn,” Ukyou snapped angrily, coming out of her
weary daze for a moment. “If weren’t coming down with
something I’d out after them in a flash.”
She was confused at the intensity of her feeling
for Ranma. She loved Kasumi, didn’t she now? Yes,
she did love Kasumi. In fact, she had loved Kasumi
twice already, though the second time wasn’t so
satisfying as the first.
Kasumi could have told her that nymphs, dryads and
naiads often married and bore children, but Kasumi
wasn’t saying anything, expecting Ukyou to learn on
her own after her first naiad of course.
She was distracted from her thoughts about Kasumi
and Ranma by this growing, aching need in her gut.
She thought briefly about how Kasumi had seemed before
she they had made love. Ukyou gasped and stood
straight up.
“Konatsu,” she snapped. “I need you to go and find
Ranma!”
“But, Ukyou-sama,” Konatsu started.
“Now!” Ukyou said. “I can’t watch him myself, and
probably couldn’t find him feeling like this, but you
can, go, watch him and make sure he isn’t doing
anything I wouldn’t like.”
“H…hai, Ukyou-sama,” Konatsu said bowing and
moving to collect his things.
He expected that Ukyou just wanted privacy for a
couple of days, that was usual way of things. He
wished she could keep her temper in check better at
times.
Ukyou watched him go with mixed relief and
trepidation. She thought she knew what was going on
now. Kasumi had needed her, and now she needed a
girl, too. Just by chance, Ukyou knew of one such
girl that was coming to her place tonight and smiled
wickedly.
Ukyou had grown up among boys, and now that her
instincts were going along the same lines as the act
she had kept up. It was easy to accept and desire it,
as more than just something to keep herself alive,
which she felt it would do.
She put the closed sign out front and ambled
upstairs hoping that her guest wouldn’t take to long
to get there.
Ukyou licked her lips in anticipation, imagining
the coming visitor’s imminently fuckable body, one
which she couldn’t help but consider now, even if the
girl tried to stay out of view. Ukyou was already
anticipating her taste.

*****

Nabiki walked into the restaurant arching an
eyebrow at the closed sign as she passed the unlocked
door.
“Ukyou,” she called out, looking around. It was
time to help the local business girl with her taxes
again, after all, no one knew more about saving money
than Nabiki, and Ukyou needed all the money she could
get to keep this place running. Nabiki’s fees were
somewhat less expensive.
“Up here, Nabchan,” Ukyou called out. Nabiki
arched her eyebrow again and frowned slightly. She
mouthed the nickname as she turned toward the stairs
up to Ukyou’s room and took the steps vowing to get
Ukyou for that little remark.
She turned toward the little room Ukyou had
upstairs, turning her back on the hallway and stepped
inside. She looked around irritably wondering what
the chef was playing at.
“What’s with the game of hide and seek?” Nabiki
asked irritably. “You know this is going to
cos…ouch!”
Suddenly two sharp points jabbed into her skin and
she felt something pumped into her body. Nabiki took
a deep breath as she felt a tingle spread through her
body. Neither she nor Ukyou could see it but her eyes
turned a clear blue as the venom changed her species.
When it finally cleared she turned around to give
Ukyou a piece of her mind, though she had no edge to
the complaints. For some reason, suddenly all her
thoughts of Ukyou were quite affectionate, even
longing.
Nabiki’s words stopped cold in her mouth as she
turned to get a load at Ukyou standing behind her,
with nothing but a smug, anticipating grin. Nabiki
noticed worriedly that Ukyou didn’t look to good, in
fact she looked quite tired. Somehow she felt she
could fix that.
“Wanna fuck?” Ukyou asked teasingly. Nabiki
blinked and nodded dumbly, already feeling herself
aroused by looking at the young woman. “I thought
you’d say that.”
Ukyou stepped forward swiftly and roughly grabbed
Nabiki into a firm passionate kiss, pushing her
backward and putting them both onto the bed. Kasumi
had been in charge between the two of them, but Nabiki
was UKYOU’S, and she would set the pace.
Nabiki’s eyes stayed open wide in renewed shock as
Ukyou’s tongue dueled with her own for space in her
mouth. Ukyou’s hands roamed freely and grabbed at the
Furinkan high outfit that hid Nabiki’s slender form.
Nabiki had just reached her arms around Ukyou when
the chef sat up, and ripped the dress apart between
her hands. Nabiki clutched at the bed under her mind
still trying to catch up as Ukyou’s hands smoothly and
forcefully rubbed their way up her stomach towards her
breasts.
The sudden gentleness was in contrast to both the
destruction of Nabiki’s dress that came before, and
Ukyou firmly grabbing at Nabiki’s bra and snapping it
off in a straight grab.
“AHHH!!” Nabiki gasped as the bra snapped her flesh
before Ukyou tossed it away. A flash of remorse
crossed Ukyou’s face at the sound.
“Nabchan,” Ukyou said gripping Nabiki’s chin and
turning the girl to face her.
There was love and adoration there, like she felt
for Kasumi, but there was an underlying fear behind
it. Ukyou frowned at that, she wanted to be a little
more…passionate than Kasumi, but she didn’t want to
scare Nabiki.
“Did I scare you?” she asked, firmly holding
Nabiki’s eyes and massaging her breasts. “Tell me the
truth.”
“Hai…” Nabiki said, wondering why she was
admitting that. Ukyou frowned and nodded.
“Sorry, Nabchan,” she said. “I just need you so
much.”
Ukyou kissed Nabiki’s mouth again, shivering at the
pleasant taste of Nabiki’s lips. Nabiki closed her
eyes and moaned softly at the contact, no longer
frightened.
Ukyou held Nabiki to her, and stoked her back
gently, kissing her lightly in between words. Ukyou
slipped a leg inbetween Nabiki’s and ground her crotch
against Nabiki’s panties, a barrier which wouldn’t
last long past Ukyou reassuring her Nabchan.
“I needed a girl, Nabchan,” Ukyou said. “You don’t
know how badly I needed a girl. And you’re the best
girl I know besides Kasumi and myself.”
“Th…ank you,” Nabiki said, gasping and hesitantly
reaching her own arms around behind Ukyou. She was
being incredibly submissive all of a sudden, and it
didn’t bother her.
“I like things a little fast, Nabchan,” Ukyou
explained, whispering into Nabiki’s ear and rubbing
her own chest against Nabiki’s. while picking
strategic massage points on her back. “If I scare
you, just yell stop, okay?” Ukyou was eager to go
on, she was still feeling that aching need despite the
charge she felt in kissing Nabiki.
“Mmmm,” Nabiki sighed. “Hai, Ukyou.” She was
speaking dreamily moaning quietly as she clutched at
Ukyou’s back and leaned her head to make it easier for
Ukyou to lick at the hollow of her neck.
“Are you ready then?” Ukyou asked seriously, one
finger teasing tracing the crack in Nabiki’s butt.
“Whenever you are, Ukyou,” Nabiki said with a
slight catch as hers and Ukyou’s nipples flicked each
other. Ukyou leaned up to her ear and, smiling
vicitoriously, she whispered into Nabiki’s ear.
“Here it comes,” she started. “For once, someone
is going to be milking you Nabchan.”
Nabiki would have smirked at the joke, but then
Ukyou pushed her back down to the bed and disentangled
from her long enough to remove Nabiki’s panties.
Nabiki idly wondered if there would be any comment
about her coming home in clothes burrowed from Ukyou.
Ukyou firmly gripped both of Nabiki’s breasts,
larger than they appeared under her sweaters and
concealing clothes, and massaged them roughly but in a
way that seemed oh so good to Nabiki, who arched her
back and kicked her legs, gasping at the sensations.
“Well I can see you’re really enjoying this,” Ukyou
said. “Nice and full already.”
“Wh…ennnnhhhh….what?” Nabiki panted.
Ukyou pulled Nabiki shifted to catch the “Y’ of her
crotch again in Nabiki’s and then gripped with her
legs as well as she could to force their sexes
together again, without the panties this time.
A hand pressing against Nabiki’s rear, kneading the
well-conditioned butt appreciately, helped the
friction along and both girls cried out as they
collided. Then Ukyou set a steadying hand behind
Nabiki’s back and lowered her head down to the tits
standing in upright attention, just beckoning her.
As the mint and cream taste of her naiad’s milk
past her lips, Ukyou understood why Kasumi had so
greedily and forcefully drank until her own supply had
been exhausted.
In contrast to her forceful and quick, sharp
motions through most of their encounter, Ukyou slowed
down and let herself savor the taste. The sound of
Nabiki’s long, building and ecstatic moans and cries
did nothing to detract from the wonderous taste of
Nabiki’s milk.
Ukyou continued on, bucking against Nabiki and
switching from one breast to another, for what seemed
like forever to Nabiki.
Occasionally Ukyou would allow some the
green-tinted milk to spread out over Nabiki’s breast
to mix with the salty taste of her sweat. She
efficiently and thoroughly made sure to cover every
piece of flesh as she took in the liquid.
Nabiki and Ukyou felt the tension building
interminably. It was sort of an unbearable pressure
of acquired pleasure that needed a release. When
Ukyou rose her head up without that release coming,
Nabiki felt let down.
“Is that all you have, Ukyou?” Nabiki asked,
panting.
“That’s all you have,” Ukyou said, smirking, but
also visibily wearied. “There at least.”
Ukyou stood up away from Nabiki who lay against the
bed catching her breath and trying vainly to hold onto
the built pressure, not wanting it to fade away. She
wanted it to burst.
She heard Ukyou walking around the bed, but
couldn’t figure out what she was doing until Ukyou’s
upside down head appeared in her view and lowered to
kissed her.
“Care for a little 69, Nabchan?” Ukyou asked.
Nabiki smirked mischievously and darted her tongue
into Ukyou’s mouth.
Then Ukyou broke away and began to kiss her way
down Ukyou’s body, pausing at the breasts to kiss and
suckle at them for a few more minutes. She gasped at
the feeling of Nabiki doing the same to her breasts,
and smiled as the minute amount of lost momentum
quickly built up.
Finally she moved down, smiling coolly at Nabiki’s
grasping hands as she shifted her body, and bent down
between Nabiki’s legs to taste the delicacy of her in
most self. It was moist and wet and Ukyou eagerly
tasted the nectar even as she waited for something
greater.
She grasped under Nabiki’s legs firmly and dived
down into Nabs’ crotch, trying to seek out her
clitoris and curl it around in her mouth. She could
feel Nabiki holding apart her lips for better access
and shifted her grip to allow that.
Nabiki’s grasp became erratic quickly as the
pressure built beyond her physical discipline’s
capability to control. Ukyou shifted about her body
to aid the distracted Nabiki’s attempts to bring her
to peak.
It worked to a point.
Ukyou did not have the thunderous release that
Kasumi had given her, but the girl under her, however,
was another story. Nabiki’s cry pierced the night,
and had they not been inside padded walls, Ukyou would
have worried about attracting attention.
She eagerly swallowed the female cum that spread
over her face. She slowly and carefully cleaned up
Nabiki’s legs with her tongue, stroking the soft brown
down of her muff, as Nabiki caught her breath.
She sighed finally and stood up, noting the mess
they had made of her bed.
“Ukyou,” Nabiki said wearily sitting up. “Just why
did you suddenly decide to fuck me blue?” She spoke
dryly, but the adoration Ukyou felt for Kasumi, and
strangely now, Nabiki, was still there.
“I told you I needed you,” Ukyou said. “Go get a
good meal and you’ll figure it out.” She smirked,
having had the same awareness pop into her head that
Kasumi did. “You’ll need to eat a lot fairly soon
anyway.”
“Well, well, well,” a voice said cockily. “If it
isn’t the mercernary sister of that wretched Akane and
my so-called competition the serving girl.” Nabiki
winced, though strangely enough Ukyou merely smirked
at Kodachi’s arrival. “What an interesting
development this is.”

*****

Shampoo set down her delivery box and blinked
around in surprise. She was quite certain that she
had been called on a delivery to the Tendo dojo, and
she had come at a run, certain that her Airen had
called for her.
She never sensed Kasumi coming. The first sign she
had was the feel of two sharp points jabbing into her
skin. Then she was filled with an overwhelming love
and physical desire for the most unlikely person she
could think of.
Kasumi.
“I am sorry for the deception, Shampoo,” Kasumi
whispered behind her, casually unbuttoning the
Amazon’s chinese top. “But I sincerely do need the
meal.”
“Ka…Kasumi?” Shampoo gasped. “Meal in box.”
A pair of gentle, massaging hands reached up to
knead her massive breasts, lightly pinching the
nipples. Something wet and warm flicked into her ear
and trailed a slow path out. She could feel Kasumi’s
bear breasts pressing against her back, informing her
that Kasumi was also naked.
“No, I’m sorry, Shampoo,” Kasumi said, turning the
girl to face her. “The meal is you.”
Yellow eyes met green for an instant as one of the
hands caressing Shampoo’s breasts shifted teasingly
down farther and undid the draw string to her fighting
pants before slipping in between her legs to pet the
puff of purple there.
Shampoo’s eyes registered confusion for a moment
before Kasumi’s lips met hers and the eldest Tendo’s
tongue slipped around within Shampoo’s mouth,
delicately dancing with her own.
Kasumi pulled back to fall into a soft chair that
was conveinently behind her. Shampoo’s hands let out
to cushion her fall and then she lowered herself down
ontop the larger and older girl.
Kasumi drifted her hands around from Shampoo’s
breast and vagina and shifted around to her back and
rear, pulling Shampoo softly down toward her. She
slipped her knee up between the Amazon’s leggs and
smiled briefly as Shampoo arched her back up in
surprise.
Kasumi gently brought Shampoo back down through a
mixture of coaxing and physical guidance. She pulled
the cat-girl’s head back down and held the kiss while
moaning as Shampoo’s hands began to roam themselves.
They were finding some interesting places that Kasumi
had not known about herself.
“Aiya,” Shampoo gasped as Kasumi faded away from
the kiss and gently directed Shampoo to sit up.
Shampoo was blinking to clear her head, wonder if
there were some sort of perverted dream, when Kasumi
began to draw milk.
As before with Ukyou, Kasumi was still gentle
overall, but by contrast she suckled greedily at
Shampoo’s swollen breast, holding tightly and doing
her best not to part from the action until she was
finished. Shampoo’s milk also tasted of cinnamon and
nutmeg, though perhaps the more forceful taste of
cinnamon was more dominant, while Ukyou had a more
subtle, sharp taste.
Shampoo’s gasps came in ever increasing volume
until she was crying out and her entire body was
shivering from the pleasure. She clutched att
Kasumi’s back and wrapped her flexible legs around the
girl’s waist and leg to hold them together and brush
sex to sex.
Shampoo’s vigorous activity almost distracted
Kasumi from her suckling as one particularly powerful
surge of emotion and sensation sent a shockwave
through her. She arched her back crying out
ecstatically and then pulled herself back up to
greedily lick up what milk had spilled in the shock.
Instead she found herself crying out again. She
blinked in mild fright as she realized that she’s
building up to climax already.
Fighting to ignore, or rather act with, the
overwhelming surges of pleasure Shampoo was sending
her, she bent forward and latched onto Shampoo’s
breast to draw out the last drop of her dryad’s milk.
Then she let herself fall back a moment almost losing
her self in the sensations.
“Sha…Sha…Shampoo,” Kasumi gasped. “I need to
be down there.”
Shampoo responded with a bright sunny smile,
strained through the physical activity. Then she
disentangled herself from Kasumi and flipped about
somehow, leaving Kasumi sitting on the chair under
her. Shampoo’s head hung upside down in Kasumi’s lap
as Her legs gripped the chair on either side of
Kasumi’s head.
Kasumi blinked and then smiled as she leaned
forward to taste of Shampoo’s flower and her hands
reached down to knead and caress Shampoo’s ample
breasts. Shampoo had her own hands arched back in a
angle impossible for a martial artist and continued
caressing Kasumi from her upside down and backwards
position.
Shampoo gritted her teeth as Kasumi’s tongue
explored her, and the sensations built up. She drew
in a breath, held it, and then cried out. Then she
drew in another breath, held it and cried out, each
breath sharper and faster as her body rocked under
Kasumi’s ministrations.
Then she exploded, and by what she felt from her
hands, so did Kasumi. She let herself sink in
relaxation, too spent to be again aroused by the
sensation of Kasumi licking up those fluids of hers
that had spilled back down, covering her crotch and
inner thighs.
Finally, Kasumi released her and fell back herself
panting wearily.
“Shampoo is confused,” Shampoo said falling off the
chair and sitting at Kasumi’s feet. “Happy, but
confused.” Kasumi leaned forward and patted her.
“You’ll figure it out soon,” she said. “And I
imagine you’re feeling a little peckish so…”
“Tadaima,” someone called out tentatively. “Give
me a T give me an A give me a D A I give me an M A!!
What’s that spell!? Tadaima!”
“I ordered out already,” Kasumi said smiling.

*****

Kodachi smiled superiorly, holding a packet of
paralysis powder in her hands as she walked towards
them. She flicked her look from Ukyou to Nabiki.
“Now what would you be willing to do to keep
this…” Kodachi’s speech was interrupted as she
turned to look at Nabiki.
The Tendo girl saw Ukyou flash forward and sink her
index fingers into Kodachi’s flesh. She glanced at
her own shoulders and noted the two small injuries
that Ukyou had given her. And now that she thought
about it, the same marks were on Ukyou.
Nabiki panicked, wondering if she too was going to
hunt down some girl to turn into a love slave. Then
she decided it didn’t matter if she could be Ukyou’s
love slave. Again, the thought came without any
amount of disturbance.
“Nabchan,” Ukyou said leeringly. “I think you’ll
want to clean up and go home, unless you want to join
Koda-chan and me.” She turned to Kodachi, whose clear
blue eyes gazed lovingly up into Ukyou’s green ones.
“Uh,” Nabiki said. “I should probably eat first,
besides, if you have Kodachi to play with, it’ll
probably be too much for me.”
Ukyou’s smile and Kodachi’s expectant look
certainly agreed with that assessment.
“I have a Furinkan girl’s uniform in that drawer,”
Ukyou said as Nabiki turned to go for the bathroom.
“I think you need to be punished, ne Koda-chan?”
“Hai,” Kodachi said looking up at Ukyou with a
confused but desiring expression.
“I love your taste in clothes, Koda-chan,” Ukyou
said smirking as she unzipped the leotard and let it
fall.
“I am glad of that, Ukyou-sama,” Kodachi said in
tone she usually reserved for Ranma. Ukyou cupped her
chin hard and smiled before pulling Kodachi back with
her and sitting on the bed.
A moment later Kodachi had been pulled over and
laid across Ukyou’s knees. Ukyou rose her hand and
then paused, looking to Kodachi’s preparatory face
before she let fly.
“You tell me if I start going too hard,” she said
insistantly.
“I shall do so, Ukyou-sama,” Kodachi said, she was
touched by the concern in Ukyou’s voice when the young
woman had temporarily dropped the act there. Then she
let her hand fly smacking into Kodachi’s rear end.
The hand flew several more times and was still
flying when Nabiki walked in. Strangely, the sight of
Ukyou with a naked Kodachi across her lap and spanking
her aroused her slightly. She momentarily regretted
telling Ukyou she was frightened as she saw the weird,
though ecstatic expression on Kodachi’s face.
Some instinct told her she would need to eat
quickly and in great amounts, so participating would
be a bad idea. Maybe next time, she decided, if she
didn’t like it, she wouldn’t do it again. So saying
she left the other two to their games. This time she
didn’t even notice that the thought “next time” hadn’t
bothered her.
She did try it next time, but decided she
definitely did not like either doing it or having it
done. She preferred control through more subtle and
delicate means if she was going to do any sort of
control. Ukyou shrugged and followed a to each their
own belief and kept the S&M games between her and
Kodachi, who was happy as well that she had something
unique to offer.
Considerate that Kodachi’s butt was probably
exceptionally sore, Ukyou shifted around to come under
her when she first started kissing the girl. Her
hands roamed over Kodachi’s pale white back while
Kodachi reached out to grasp at and clutch Ukyou’s
breasts.
She broke away from the kiss to lick and nip her
way down to Kodachi’s breasts, viciously pinching
Kodachi with a smirk when the gymnast tried to
continue the embrace. Kodachi glanced at her with a
smile that clearly expressed her satisfaction at that
small pain.
Again, Ukyou paid Kodachi’s milk the attention a
gourmet wine-taster attended a fifty year old bottle
of a rare vintage. The mint and cream was basically
the same, though the sharper taste of mint was almost
overwhelming in Kodachi’s flavor. Ukyou appreciated
the difference artistically. Her Nabchan, for all her
outer Ice Queen act, was a little more refined and
traditional when it came to sex. Her Koda-chan was
the one that liked things kinky.
“W…what,” Kodachi gasped clutching at Ukyou’s
back and wincing in pleasure as her red bottom
contacted something. “Have I become?”
“My naiad, sugar,” Ukyou said, pausing her
attention to Kodachi’s breasts to answer for a moment.
Then she smirked and returned to her activity.
Kodachi sucked in her breath and gasped out with a
suffocated laughter as she felt Ukyou’s tongue lap
delicately over her skin, every so often sucking at
one or another of her tits and wrapping her tongue
around them. Ukyou’s hands, forgetful of the
treatment she had given Kodachi, travelled done and
grapsed Kodachi’s ass, massaging it forcefully and
sending waves of pleasant pain through her body.
Ukyou pulled away regretfully as she had finished
drawing on Kodachi’s milk. She rolled over gently to
put Kodachi under her and slid down smoothly with a
smirk on her face.
Ukyou rubbed the inside of Kodachi’s thighs,
resisting the desire to just dive in. Kodachi moaned
at the touches, which maintained her arousal without
increasing to the point of climax and release.
“You belong to me, Kodachi,” Ukyou said. “After
all the shit you put me through, you belong to me.
Don’t you?”
“Yes, Ukyou-sama,” Kodachi gasped with a sharp
intake of breath. She closed her eyes and gripped the
blankets about her in a bundle.
“What should I do with you, Koda-chan?” Ukyou asked
slipping one hand into Kodachi and shifting around.
“I should take your payment out of my hide,
Ukyou-sama,” Kodachi said with an expectant smile.
“Good idea,” Ukyou said. “But you’re too pretty to
ruin, so perhaps something else for now.”
She smirked as she shifted her fingers in a sudden
thrust deep within Kodachi. Kodachi’s entire body
shook with the thrust and the next, and the one after
that.
As Ukyou watched Kodachi reacted so strongly to
this she decided to maybe buy something of the
appropriate size for the next time.
She watched, with a slowly building arousal of her
own as Kodachi’s reactions grew stronger. Kodachi was
holding back as long as possible to let the sensation
build, but Ukyou moved too fast and too forcefully to
resist long.
She burst in a long howling laughter, before fading
back into small “ha’s” and catch her breath as Ukyou
bent to the task of catching the fluids their activity
had released. She was about to let herself fade back
into unconsciousness when she heard Ukyou’s voice.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Ukyou said. “You’re not finished
yet Koda-cahn.”
Kodachi sat up, wincing at the burning still coming
from her ass, and saw Ukyou sitting on a chair and
giving a come hither gesture. The girl was leaning
forward, emphasizing her groin, and smiling.
“You have to finish me off now,” she said. Kodachi
smiled and padded over to kneel in front of Ukyou.
“Hai, Ukyou-sama,” Kodachi said with twisted good
humor.

*****

Nabiki came home to confusion. Hers and the
places. Genma and Soun were still gone, no surprise
there, but that fortune teller girl from school was
there for some reason. And there was some shouting
going on upstairs.
She glanced up at Nabiki with blue eyes, and Nabiki
shook her head in realization. She sat down with Miyo
at the table. Apparently she was waiting for dinner.
“So, do you belong to Ukyou too?” she asked. She
still thought it was funny that that concept did not
bother her.
“No, Nabiki,” Miyo said. “Shampoo graciously
accepted me as her lover, though I have not yet
figured out why. I am told that after a good meal
that I shall understand things better.”
Nabiki heard the goings on upstairs and frowned.
Ukyou she could forgive anything, even seducing her
older sister, but Shampoo that was another story.
“Dinner is ready,” a familiar voice called out. It
wasn’t coming from upstairs. Kasumi walked in and set
out a large platter before Miyo. She glanced at
Nabiki and gasped. “Oh my! I assume that my Ukyou
must have taken you?”
“Your…” Nabiki blinked. “You mean this is YOUR
fault? I thought sure this would come down to Ranma!”
“I’m afraid that I ate something that Happosai was
intending for Ranma,” Kasumi explained. “Everything
else was necessary.”
“Can you explain how?” Nabiki asked, though she
felt even more subservient to Kasumi suddenly than she
had to Ukyou. Perhaps that was because this was her
owner’s owner.
“Eat,” Kasumi said smiling. “I need to prepare
another helping.”
The house was split by an earth-shaking cry, that
was spelled out. Everybody looked up and blinked.
“And I suppose that means that Shampoo is settled
for this month,” Kasumi said in relief. She
disappeared into the kitchen leaving behind two very
confused girls that were soon joined by Shampoo and
that cheerleader martial artist with a goofy looking
grin on her face as she sat on the other side of
Shampoo from Miyo.
“This had better be one hell of an explanation,”
Nabiki muttered.

*****

“Tadaima,” Akane called out as she and Ranma came
home.
“Just come in like we haven’t been gone a coupla
months,” Ranma said with a smirk.
“Have you been taking lessons from Nabiki?” Akane
asked.
“Oh,” Kasumi said coming down the stairs and
looking rather embarrassed for some reason. “Ranma,
Akane, you’re back!” She rushed forward and hugged
them tightly. “I was beginning to get worried.”
“All we did was elope and go on a honeymoon,” Ranma
said.
“Oh, that’s nice,” Kasumi said, blinking. Ranma
and Akane looked at her strangely.
“That’s what everybody’s said,” Akane muttered.
“Oh, you’ve spoken to the others?” Kasumi asked.
Though Shampoo’s reaction had been the expected
flaring angry…for about two seconds followed by an
“I can live with it” reaction. And Cologne had said
something about Shampoo being beyond the tribes laws
or something. The words “minor kami” had come up for
some reason.
Akane was still trying to figure out why Shampoo
had told Mousse, “we go on date when I clear with
girlfriends” after being dropped by Ranma. It was
half an attempt to get him jealous and more than half
serious.
Kodachi had been even stranger. She had ranted,
raved and threatened, as expected. And then she had
taken a big breath and limped over to her desk to grab
a bouquet of flowers and one of those toilet seats
hospitals give people with injuries in a sensitive
area. She handed these to Akane with instructions to
tell her sister that she apologized wholeheartedly.
“The only person we haven’t talked to yet is
Ukyou,” Akane said finally.
“Hey, Kachan, I’m really sorry about the silk
nightdress,” Ukyou said coming down stairs, holding
the destroyed garment. “I was just a little over
eager, that time of the month you know, and maybe I
forgot I was with you not Kodachi and…well…what
are you pointing at?”
Ukyou turned to see a wide-eyed Ranma and Akane.
“Uhhh….” Ukyou said nervously. “I should be
going…Kodachi is meeting me at a cafe…I
already…uh…saw…Nabiki so…ummm….” The
wide-eyes grew wider. “I should go now before I
swallow my leg…” A curious light came into her eyes
as she said that and then left the building,
practically fleeing. Ranma and Akane didn’t like the
look of that light, they turned toward Kasumi.
“Some explanations are in order I suppose,” Kasumi
said, blushing red.

---

a new player joins the game

Sorry it took so long needed to think about what to do next. Not interested in complaints about grammar. As I’ve said before just writing for fun so don’t bother commenting about how difficult it is to read.

Deep and lovely dark chapter 7
Vlad came home at 3:00 am holding a barely conscious Lisa in his arms. Rachel who was sat In the basement smiled when she saw Vlad but quickly became terrified when she saw Lisa. “WHAT HAPPENED?!?!?” asked Rachel hysterically. “I went to the house but Eckhart was waiting for me” said vlad as he lay Lisa on a stone slab. “are you ok?” Asked Rachel. “im ok I dunno about her though” he replied motioning towards Lisa. “Can you help her?” “I expect so, its been less than an hour since she’s been bitten. One more hour and she’d be beyond my help”. Vlad walked over to a shelf containing small vials of liquids of all colours. He pulled out a vial containing a green liquid and returned to Lisa. Lisa was barely breathing, her body was trembling and she couldn’t open her eyes. Vlad raised her head and poured the vial into her mouth. “There we are, a few minutes and she’ll be fine.” Rachel gave a sigh of relief. Vlad went to Rachel and embraced her in a hug.

Rachel looked up at Vlad and met his gaze. Vlad’s lips met Rachel’s and they kissed deep and passionate. As Rachel pulled off Vlad’s long Black coat, Vlad lifted Rachel’s top revealing her large round tits. Vlad reached behind Rachel and grabbed her hair pulling her head back. Vlad attacked her neck, kissing and licking. Rachel began moaning as her hands wandered over Vlad’s chest, feeling his large muscles made Rachel’s pussy very wet. Rachel pulled away and lifted Vlad’s shirt over his head. Vlad pulled her back licking her neck while she moaned. She scratched his back leaving scars which healed instantly.

Vlad picked Rachel up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He carried her over to a nearby table and dropped her. He ripped her bra off and began sucking her tits. Rachel pulled his head closer as if trying to smother him. She ran her fingers through his long hair as she gasped. “oooooooh yeah suck them, oooooh god”. Rachel suddenly pushed Vlad away and ripped off his belt off. Vlad pushed Rachel back towards the table and pulled of her pants. Pulling her panties aside Vlad’s tounge dove into her pussy. Showing no mercy Vlad’s tounge flicked her clit furiously. Rachel’s mouth fell open and her breathing was becoming long and deep. Vlad reached for her left tit and began pinching her nipple. Rachel put her right hand over her mouth as she began to moan. Vlad wrapped his left at around Rachel’s thigh while his left hand pinched and twisted her nipple.

Rachel closed her eyes as she was building up an orgasm. Suddenly she felt another pair of hands running over her body. She opened her eyes to see Lisa sucking her other tit and Vlad looking up smiling. Rachel just thought “fuck it!” And carried on enjoying the treatment. With her orgasm getting closer, Rachel grabbed Lisa’s hair and pulled her up to kiss her. Her tounge forced into Lisa’s mouth and began exploring while vlad sucked Rachel’s clit. She began to shake as she moaned into Lisa’s mouth. She pulled away from Lisa and began to scream. “oooooh fuck oh my god don’t stop im so close, OOOOOHHHH FUUUUUUCK”. Rachel grabbed Vlad’s head and wrapped her legs around his neck as an orgasm tore through her. Cumming hard, Rachel felt all the strength in her legs disappeared. It was more than she could take as Vlad continued sucking her clit while Lisa watched smiling. Still shaking Rachel pulled Vlad up and kissed him, wrapping her arms around him. Vlad picked her up and gently lay her down on the stone slab. In one quick move, Vlad grabbed Lisa by the hair and pulled her over to the slab and forced her on her knees. He grabbed her by the neck and said “Lick her cunt slave!” “Yes master” she said smiling and went to work eating Rachel’s pussy. Vlad went to Rachel’s mouth and pulled out his cock offering it to her. On the verge of passing out, Rachel opened her mouth and took his cock.

Vlad began rocking his hips fucking her mouth while holding her head. Rachel started moaning again as her pussy was munched and her throat was fucked. Lisa licked Rachel’s pussy like her life depended on it. She pulled her young out and spat on Rachel’s pussy rubbing her clit while she did. With Rachel feeling her strength returning she grabbed Vlad’s cock and tried to take the whole thing in her mouth. This was never easy, Vlad’s cock was almost double the size of any cock she’d had in her life. She took in more and more until she felt his cock hit the back of her throat making her gag. Vlad stood there with his eyes closed, his eyebrows raised and his mouth falling open. Feeling his climax coming he began to moan hard. “aaaaah fuck, suck it slave. Suck it im gonna cum! Come on slut suck it!”. Calling her names made Rachel’s pussy even wetter, plenty for Lisa to clean up with her tounge. While she sucked, Rachel began to jerk Vlad’s cock. Vlad was moaning so hard, he grabbed Rachel’s head and began fucking her mouth harder.

Back and forth he rocked his hips til he pulled his cock out and exploded all over Rachel’s face. “What are you Rachel?” He asked. “im your cum slut master”. Vlad felt himself getting hard again immediately. “Why do you exist?” He asked. “To get fucked by my masters monster cock whenever he wants!”. Rachel got hornier with each new question. “Do you like being my slut?” Vlad continued. “Master I love it, I’ll fuck my masters cock whenever he wants.” Vlad smiled. “Do you want my cock in you right now?” “Yes master I need it. Please give it to me.” Vlad began stroking his cock while he continued. “I think I like you begging. So beg me!” “Please master I beg you fuck my pussy. Fuck me hard like the whore I am”.Vlad couldn’t take anymore. With his lightening speed he pulled Rachel off the table and bent her over It. He pulled Lisa off her knees and pushed her onto the table. With Lisa’s pussy only inches away from Rachel’s face, Vlad pushed Rachel’s head into Lisa’s pussy. “You eat her pussy while I fuck you slave!”. Rachel wrapped her arms around Lisa’s legs and began eating her out. Lisa threw herself up as her jaw fell open. Who knew Rachel was so good at eating pussy she thought. Catching her expression, Rachel looked up at her and said “This ain’t my first rodeo” she smiled and threw a wink at her. She continued licking up and down Lisa’s pussy while Vlad got ready to fuck her.

Vlad lined up his cock and thrust into Rachel’s pussy. Rachel threw her head up and moaned as her master’s cock brought her the release she needed. “Aaaah yeah like that yes fuck me!” Vlad grabbed her hips and fucked her deeper with each thrust. Vlad pushed Rachel’s head back to Lisa’s pussy and lost himself in the peak of pleasure he found himself in. Lisa held Rachel’s head to her pussy and watched Vlad fucking her. Lisa kept thinking of how good that big cock would feel inside her. She felt herself getting wetter as she pictured his cock in her head. Her mouth watered, she really wanted that cock, she needed it. Vlad looked at Rachel’s perfect ass. It was so alluring. He grabbed it and squeezed it. He raised his hand smacked it hard prompting a squeal from Rachel. Smack! “Ahhh thankyou master!” Smack! “Ahhh thankyou master!” Smack! “Ahhh thankyou master!” Rachel by now knew exactly what she was supposed to say and when to say it. “Tell me how much you like me fucking you!” Vlad said fucking her harder. “Oooh Oooh Oooh I fucking love it. I love your fucking big cock fucking me Oooooh!”. “Who’s my slut?” Said Vlad. “Ooooh I am” Rachel Replied.

Vlad looked up at Lisa and saw her losing herself in intense pleasure. “Lisa!” He barked. Lisa looked up at him quickly. “Is Rachel good at that?” She smiled and said “Yes master, she’s really good. I think im gonna cum!” Vlad grabbed Rachel’s hair and pulled her away from Lisa. He pushed her on her knees. “No one makes her cum except me understand?” “Yes master I understand” she said bowing her head.
Vlad looked at Lisa and pulled her towards him. He looked down at Rachel still on her knees with her head bowed. “Slut you sit on her face while i fuck her!” Rachel looked up and smiled. “Yes master!” Rachel did as she was told and climbed onto the table. She stood over Lisa and crouched above her mouth. Lisa reached up and pulled Rachel down lower and began licking her out again. Lisa contemplated how good Vlad’s cock was gonna feel inside her. Vlad lifted Lisa’s legs over his shoulders as he impaled her with his cock. Vlad laughed as he heard Lisa gasp. He began to fuck her roughly as he grabbed her tit and twisted her nipple. “Do you like this slave?” Lisa pushed Rachel up to answer. “Yes master its so big I fucking love it ooooh shit!”. This was definatly the biggest cock Lisa had ever had inside her. She found it hard to focus on Rachel’s pussy with this incredible cock fucking her. Vlad looked up at Rachel and pulled her in for a kiss. Rachel put her hand on the side of his face and moaned as Lisa licked her pussy like a pro. Rachel looked down and watched Vlad’s cock sliding in and out of Lisa’s fuck hole.

Vlad leaned towards Rachel and whispered. “Fuck her like a slut!” Rachel’s eyes lit up. She jumped off of Lisa’s mouth. Vlad went over to Lisa’s head and forced his cock into her mouth. Rachel went to a nearby draw and pulled out a big black dildo. She ran over to Lisa and rammed it into her pussy. Lisa screamed with Vlad’s cock in her mouth. Rachel rammed the dildo in and out of Lisa’s pussy while she twisted her nipple. “You like this don’t you whore?” She said aggressively. Vlad pulled his cock out of her mouth. “Answer her!” “Yes I love it!” Smack! Vlad smacked her pussy making Lisa jump up. “From now on you call her mistress understand slave?” “Yes master I understand”. Rachel smiled at her new position of power. “I’ll ask again. You like this don’t you slave?” Rachel asked. “Yessss, yes mistress I love the way you fuck me!”. Rachel continued fucking her with the dildo while Vlad continues fucking her mouth.

With her mouth and pussy full, Lisa felt her orgasm building. She pulled out her master’s cock and looked up at Rachel. “Mistress please can I cum. Im so close please I wanna cum.” She begged. Rachel smiled, she could get used to being called mistress. Rachel stopped fucking Lisa and looked up at Vlad. Vlad understood what she was doing and pulled his cock out of her mouth and went to Rachel’s side. “Beg us to finish you off slave!” Said Rachel sternly. Lisa looked at Rachel and then Vlad. “Please mistress, Please master let me cum, finish me off.” “Louder!” Boomed Vlad. “PLEASE MAKE ME CUM PLEASE”. Rachel looked at Vlad stroking his cock and winked at him.

Vlad went back to Lisa and began fucking her pussy again. Rachel went to Lisa’s head and sat on her face again. “Lick my cunt slave!” “Yes mistress” Lisa said and began licking. Rachel began to grind against Lisa’s mouth and moaned loudly. “Oooh fuck yeah! Lick it slave, lick it”. Sensing that Vlad was getting close Rachel Tried to rush her orgasm. “Suck my clit slave! Make me cum!” Lisa did as she was told and began sucking Rachel’s clit. Suddenly Lisa’s body began to spasm as her orgasm hit her.
“Thankyou Master for making me cum”. She said trying to regain her breath. Rachel grabbed her hair and pulled her back to clit. “I didn’t tell you to stop slut”. Rachel’s orgasm hit seconds later. It felt like a hundred waves of pleasure hitting her one after the other.

This pushed Vlad over the edge. He pulled out of Lisa’s pussy and Rachel pushed her off the table and onto her knees. Rachel kneeled down beside her and held Lisa’s head up. “Open your mouth cum sluts!” Said Vlad. The two women obeyed and their mouths fell open. Rachel was still holding Lisa’s head while Vlad jerked his cock. Seconds later Vlad exploded over Lisa’s face. His legs began shaking and he walked over to a nearby chair and sat. He watched Rachel lick all of his cum off of Lisa’s face and share it with her.

When they were finished Vlad stood and helped them to their feet. They got dressed and left the basement walking hand in hand in hand. “Rachel would you show Lisa to her room? It’s obvious she’ll be staying with us for a while.” He smiled and walked away.

Chapter 8 coming soon…..

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Jake, Dave, and John have been friends forever, but the high costs of college cause them to explore some rather interesting ways of making extra money.

Part 2 of A Good Morning

I hear the water running as I walk through the front door. I toss my keys on the coffee table by the sofa and lay my jacket on the armchair. I walk through the house looking for you. You’re not in the dining room or the office as I walk by glancing in them. Peeking my head around the door jamb, I look in the bedroom. I don’t see you there either. So I do what I should’ve done in the first place. I walk inside the bedroom and strip my clothes off. I unbutton my shirt and throw it on the bed. I undo my belt and zipper and let my pants fall to my ankles. I step out of my shoes and pants at the same time and then take off my socks, underwear and bra all in a hurry. I can’t wait to join you.
I step into the hallway and take the three steps to the bathroom door. I lean against it listening to you humming. I slowly turn the handle not wanting to startle you. I push the door open gently and it squeaks a little. I wince at the noise hoping you didn’t hear it. You glance back smiling and motion me to join you. I see your body submerged in the water and can’t wait to be with you. I walk over to the tub and you sit up. I slip in the water behind you and put my legs on either side of yours.
The warm water feels so good on my tight muscles but your body feels even better against mine. I lean us back into the water and start to rub your shoulders. You relax into my touch and sigh. I kiss behind your ear. You arch your neck for more attention and I happily continue. I move my hands further down your back and massage those muscles while I kiss along your shoulder. I love the way your skin feels under my fingertips. I can’t help myself and caress your arms down to your hands. I pull then out of the water one at a time and kiss them.
I slide my hands over your shoulders and down the front of your chest. I rest them above your breasts right underneath the surface of the water. I kiss your neck and shoulder more, feeling you back against my own breasts. I can feel my nipples pushing into your back as they get hard from the sight of your beautiful body. I close my eyes and use my sense of touch to feel all over your body; your chest, your left breast and then the right, your stomach and down your legs. I pause over your bellybutton before I go any farther. You lift one leg out of the water and rest it on the side of the tub. I take this as my queue.
I move my palm over your pussy and to the inside of your thighs. I can feel the heat of you over the heat of the water and smile. I rub your clit with the end of my finger and hear you sigh again. My finger starts to push on it rhythmically and I can feel you stirring, the water making ripples against our bodies. I pull you closer with my other arm and slowly start to massage your breasts again, one at a time. I roll your nipple between my fingers. I push a finger into your pussy and feel how hot you are. I can feel how wet you are inside and start to push in more.
I pull in and out slowly. Your pussy starts to clench around my finger and I push in faster. I keep kissing your shoulder down to the side of your arm. I move over your shoulder blade and kiss as far down your spine as I can. You put your hand on top of mine and intertwine our fingers. You bring them up to your lips. You turn your wrist over and kiss my palm. I move my head around so I can finally kiss your lips. We lean in and it’s like lightening through our bodies from our kiss. I move in and out of you faster as our lips stay locked into that kiss for a long couple of moments. I grab you to me and push my other finger deep inside of you. You gasp into my mouth and I grab you to me.
I move faster and faster, your hand tightening around mine. You haven’t let go yet. I move my fingers around inside of you feeling every inch of your pussy walls. I find your spot and concentrate on making you cum. I move my fingers over it, back and forth. You start to move your body in pleasure. Your hand gets tighter on mine and I bring it across your chest so I can play with your nipples some more.
As I play with your nipples I’m thrusting in and out of you faster. Your body starts to writhe against me. Your back keeps rubbing my own nipples turning me on. You finally let go of my hand and put it between my legs. You find my clit and start to rub it fast. I inhale sharply and concentrate on trying to make you cum before you make me cum. You push your fingers into my own pussy.
We match each other’s strokes making the water splash over the sides. Our moans echo off the walls of the bathroom. Our bodies start to shake against each other. I try to kiss your neck but another moan escapes my lips.
My pussy closes around your fingers. I’m going to cum. I move faster so we can cum with each other. I shake hard as the orgasm washes over my body and I moan. You push against me as your own takes over. I feel your cum all over my hand as I’m sure you can feel mine. The water is only half full in the tub as the rest is on the floor. We pull out of each other and breathe heavily, our chests heaving. I kiss your neck and smile. You turn around and kiss my lips. We towel off and head into the bedroom to get dressed…

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On Sunday night, Sarah one of my girlfriends phoned to tell me, “Before my man flew out for another of his business trips this afternoon, he told me with a smile, “No fucking with other men while I am away. Promise me Sarah?”

She told me, “I did promise though both of knew that left the opportunity for a lesbian experience for me. After all it was my man who organised my first ever lesbian experience, opening a wonderful new chapter in my sex life. I do love the excitement and extra pleasure of being bi-sexual.”

I am Larissa, Sarah and me are old friends, both early forties, still attractive to both men and women. We have often confided to each other and compared notes with each other about our strong sex drives and our casual bisexual lesbian relationships as well as our relationships with our men. Though Sarah I have never been lovers, both of us tacitly and covertly wanting a lesbian experience if the opportunity presented.

Sarah is even more desirable for me after one of our mutual lovers told me about the afternoon they spent together, telling me in great detail how good she was, both of them bringing each other to orgasm, passionately tongue fucking each other.

On the Thursday, I phoned Sarah and after some small chat I told her, “Knowing you as I do. you are probably sex starved by now. Would you like to join me for a drink tomorrow tonight?” A non too subtle invitation for her, my voice with a slightly nervous edge to it, hoping she wouldn’t fob me off.

“I am sex starved, I was going to use my best vibrator again tonight, I would love to accept your invitation,” Sarah told me. Even over the phone I could detect she was excited at my invitation.

By eight that night before Sarah arrived the next day I had decided I wanted to be a sex object for Sarah. What to wear for a new seduction, a bi-sex forty-plus woman? Less is more I decided.

Sarah arrived right on time looking gorgeous, glamorous and fuckable, deliciously, agonisingly fuckable, deliberately I hoped. Heels and skin tight white slacks, a matching blazer, obviously no bra, lots of beautiful, tempting cleavage on show for me. No make up, her hair slicked back, teasing me with her deliberately slightly butchy lesbian appearance.

I had decided to wear heels and one of my man’s while business shirts, with just a few buttons fastened for her, wanting to tempt her with my legs, my thighs exposed up to my hips by the slit in the sides of the shirt and lots of cleavage on show for her, my good tits cased in a sexy black cup-less bra, my nipples pushing against the shirt. One of our mutual friends had told me Sarah has a thing about women with better tits than hers.

Some wonderful sexy, soft saxophone music to set and enhance the mood. I had wanted to make love to this woman for so long. I took the initiative, tongue kissing her by way of greeting, Sarah returning my kisses, our tongues intertwining.

“I want to seduce you Sarah, do you mind?,” I teased, and just as I hoped, she smiled, “No I don’t mind, I would love you to seduce me,” as our chemistry became obvious.

“We should have done this long ago Larissa, though today is perfect timing,” she whispered while we were kissing with our hands all over each other. Watching me open the buttons on her blazer, opening it so I could lick and suck her nipples, leaving her blazer on as I helped her slide her skin tight slacks over her ass, big and just magnificent without any knickers.

I have heard men and women talk about her ass in awed hushed tones. Now I could understand why as I ran my hands over it.

Helping her back on with her heels, after sliding her slacks past her ankles, admiring her wonderful body, so fuckable, thighs and ass to die for, her naked body in just the blazer was a bonus turn on, wonderful eye candy for me, before I slowly removed her blazer. I couldn’t resist running my hands over her ass, licking and kissing it with my hands grasping her hips.

Passionately tongue kissing as she undid the buttons of my shirt. Opening it for me so she could lick and suck my nipples. Feasting on them. My nipples responding. Rubbing our tits together, the tips of our nipples touching. Whispering to me, “Your tits are bigger than mine, so good.”

Placing a pillow under her magnificent ass, parting her legs, admiring the way she trims her pubes, a sexy black triangle.

“You have an awesome reputation Sarah, tell me what you want from me. I don’t want to disappoint you?,” I asked her.

“Make love to me, mad passionate love, tongue fuck me until I orgasm for you.”

I was confident and experienced enough, to build anticipation for me and Sarah, my wonderful new lover, no rush. I learnt long ago anticipation is not the precursor to pleasure; anticipation is pleasure itself. A real buzz because I had been anticipating making sapphic love to Sarah for long.

I had my arms wrapped around her glorious thighs, licking the insides of each one, so close to her cunt lips, before momentarily the tip of my tongue found her clit.

Kissing and gently touching her inner thighs, kissing my way down her body, wanting build her desire, make her fully turned on for me before I commenced tongue fucking her.

Circling her vulva with my tongue, doing the same with my fingers using light, moderate, then deep pressure, trying to ascertain her preferences.

Alternately using the tip of my tongue, then the flat of it, and my lips as I explored her vulva, all three sensations a little different, providing subtly different sensations for us both.

Using the tip of my tongue to apply steady tongue pressure on her clit, swirling moves around it, teasing just the underside of her clitoral shaft, using spaced out light little licks.

Spreading her labia, focusing on licking the area of the front commissure, just above her clit, using my index finger interspersing horizontal finger strokes across her glans with vertical tongue strokes.

Increasing her arousal by insert a single finger, using my tongue to enhance her arousal, then a finger to complement and push her arousal further. Pressing a finger upwards into her G-spot, while applying persistent licks.

Touching her tits, squeezing her nipples until she moaned, caressing her stomach. Apply persistent licks under her hood, licking her clitoral hood, the fold of skin covering the glans of her clit, so sensitive, so wet. Gently sliding it back licking it, licking her clit directly, slow and gentle.

Sarah was breathing heavily now, whispering to me, turning me on even more, “I love it, fuck my cunt, fuck my cunt, fuckamycunt, fuckamycunt.” So pleased I have her talking dirty to me.

Awakening all her corollary nerve endings with gentle kisses, using warm, gentle breath. Using my lips, tongue, fingertips to pique her interest even more. Edging her, taking my time. building anticipation for both of us, creating more pleasure.

Bringing her close to orgasm, so close then backing off a little, teasing her edging her, delaying her climax, her orgasm. Wanting to give her an incredibly powerful orgasm.

Grinding my crotch against hers, our hips thrusting, primal hip movements to guide pressure and speed, wanting to increase the intensity for both of us.

Using my fingers, fingering her while licking her clit, wanting to provide intense, explosive sexual pleasure as my finger brushed against her g-spot inside her vagina. Playing with her thighs, lips and clit while kissing, breathing and sucking.

Talking to her, “I love to tongue fuck another sexy bi woman, and you are a real woman, such an exciting bi woman Sarah, so good. It could be even better with a young girl watching, while she is sucking your nipples,” I told her, a hint at what I had in store for her and me.

“Tell me what you want Sarah? Slow and sensual or rougher, harder, or faster. Tell me and will give you what you want?,” I asked her, sensing I had her close to orgasm.

“Just keep on fucking me with your tongue. I love it, fuck my cunt, fuck my cunt, fuckamycunt, do it, do it,” she moaned as she pushed my head into her, before she orgasmed for me. So pleased I had tongue fucked her to orgasm after wanting to have her for so long.

A little later we were in my bath together, both of us anticipating Sarah tongue fucking me in a short while. Wonderful foreplay in the bath, kissing and touching each other in the afterglow. No mention of any men or the women we have both had in the past, just the two of us wanting and building up to a new sexual experience, building our mutual anticipation. Wonderful foreplay Sarah licking and sucking my tits, exquisite foreplay while I anticipated her giving me lesbian sex, bringing me to orgasm.

Tongue kissing each other, hands all over each other as we dried each other off, Sarah standing behind me in front of the bathroom mirror, watching her fingers teasing my cunt lips, kissing me over my shoulder. Her pubes grinding against my ass.

Flat on my back on the bed, Sarah in total control, licking my clit, teasing my nipples with her fingertips at the same time, my legs over her shoulders. Looking at her magnificent big ass in the ceiling mirror. Tongue fucking me, so good. Sarah living up to her bi-lover reputation, then exceeding it. Teasing me, edging me. Licking, sucking and kissing my engorged clit.

So pleased I was bi, a part time lesbian as Sarah licked and teased me to orgasm, slowly ever so slowly with a pillow under my ass. Pausing to lick and suck my nipples and tits. Her hands under my ass, lifting me to her tongue, flicking my clit with it, running the tip of her tongue along my cunt lips, her finger teasing my g-spot.

Teasing me, everything I have have heard about her cunnilingus skills, her tongue fucking skills are true, as she demonstrated them to me. Tongue kissing me as she slid a finger into me. Whispering to me, “Imagine that is a man’s cock in you,” before she inserted a second finger and resumed licking my cunt lips.

“You are so good Sarah, so fucking good,” I moaned, out of control as I orgasmed and squirted for her, an orgasm such as no man had ever given me.

Before Sarah departed I told her, “I have a twenty-year old girl I would like you to meet. Penny is an Asian exchange student. She is very attractive and very talented and I feel sure you would be very comfortable with her. Will Saturday night, tomorrow night, work for you?”

I could detect she was excited at the age gap, a girl half her age. “It does work for me. What should I wear for her?”

“Something super glamorous, ultra feminine, tease her, make yourself look unobtainable, not even a hint of being bi, make yourself a challenge for her.” I told her as I showed her some pics of Penny wearing heels, long white socks, a white blouse and a short flared skirt, her ass cheeks poking out of it, looking like a seductive, naughty school girl.

On the Saturday when I introduced Penny to Sarah, I told her. “Sarah is an old friend, her man is away on business, she is lonely. And she is sex starved,” hoping Penny would take that as a challenge as Sarah lightly kissed her by way of greeting, just as I had hoped her eyes lusting after Penny, a token young girl for her pleasure and mine.

Sarah had heeded my request, she looked super glamorous, ultra feminine in make up, heels and a short, backless dress, looking unobtainable for another female, not even a hint of being bi, making herself appear a sexual challenge for Penny and me.

Sarah teasing Penny with a smile, “You look like a seductive, naughty school girl. Are you?,” before Sarah kissed me passionately, our sexual chemistry where we left off the day before, both of us wanting to tease Penny, both of us wanting to have her.

“Larissa spoke highly of you Sarah, I am jealous already,” Penny told her, as Sarah looked at her closely, dressed in a similar outfit to the pics I had showed her without the long white socks, a white blouse and a short flared skirt, her ass cheeks poking out of it.

Just as I had promised Sarah, Penny really is incredibly attractive to her and already very comfortable with her.

“I promised Penny I would seduce her while you watched Sarah. Do you want me to keep my promise Penny?,” I asked, teasing her as I kissed her, removing her blouse, no bra to hide her beautiful twenty-year old tits and already aroused nipples.

Sarah licking and sucking one of her nipples while I had the other one. “Her gorgeous tits are better than mine,” Sarah whispered to me as I tongue kissed Penny and Sarah licked and sucked her nipples in turn.

“I want to seduce you Penny, do you mind if Larissa watches?,” Sarah asked in an excited whisper.

“No, I don’t mind at all. How about you Larissa?,” Penny answered

Penny was standing behind Sarah, running her fingers down her bare back, licking and kissing her back, slowly undressing her, removing her dress as Sarah and me tongue kissed.

Sarah was naked for Penny, legs spread, posing hands on hips for her, before running a fingertip along her cunt lips, teasing her aroused nipples with the fingertips of her other hand, a look of carnal pleasure on her face, before Penny kissed her passionately. Sarah returning her kisses as she removed her short flared skirt and tiny knickers. Whispering to her, “I have always wanted to have a girl your age, while her much older lover watches. I must have you, now, right now!”

I thought the way Sarah had tongue fucked me yesterday was wonderful. Watching her tongue fucking Penny was incredible as I joined in, participating, alternating kissing and licking Penny’s nipples and tongue kissing her, while watching Sarah pleasuring her with her tongue.

Holding one of her legs in the air to heighten her pleasure as she licked her clit. Whispering to her, “How can a girl that age be so good,” as Penny sat on her face, Sarah’s tongue in overdrive as she cupped her ass in her hands.

Such a turn on for me watching my new lesbian lover giving my other lesbian lover cunnilingus, expertly tongue fucking her, just a young girl, much younger than Sarah and me, kissing Penny at the same time with my hand on Sarah’s wonderful ass. Sliding my hand between her legs, my fingertip finding her clit, increasing the bi-sexual pleasure for the three of us.

Talking to Sarah and Penny, surprising them, exciting them with my language as I moaned, “So beautiful, watching my two wonderful talented lovers making love.

Tongue kissing Penny as Sarah had her on the brink of orgasm, teasing her, edging her. Sliding the tip of her tongue along her wet cunt lips. Right on the bring of orgasm as she slid a fingertip along her cunt lips, then inserting it in a fucking motion, sliding her finger in a fucking motion, as she used the flat of her tongue on her.

Penny and me kissing passionately as we never had before, wanting to see and feel her orgasm for Sarah. Listening to her whispering to Sarah, “Fuck me, fuck my cunt, fuckamycunt,” as Sarah had her right on the edge, Then over the edge, while we continued kissing.

An hour or so later after we had all showered together, Penny asked in an excited whisper, “I want to seduce you Sarah, do you mind if Larissa watches?”

Sarah had been sitting between Penny and me on the wooden bench seat in the bathroom as we would down in the afterglow of our three-way. All three of us naked and making it obvious we wanted more as we ran our hands all over each other, before we oiled each other’s naked body’s.

Sarah adding to the frisson by standing so we could oil her big ass. “My friends talk about your magnificent ass in hushed tones, I can understand why,” I told her while Penny watched me oiling it. Then watching Penny oiling her ass while I sat in front of Sarah, oiling the insides of her gorgeous thighs, barely resisting the urge to touch and lick her vagina.

Penny whispering again, even more excited, “I want to seduce you Sarah “ Asking, “Do you think I will ever have an ass as impressive as yours,” as she ran her nails along her ass cheeks, leaving a trace.

Sarah adding to our foreplay by asking, “While you seduce me, I want Larissa to watch and join in, do you mind?”

“I don’t mind at all,” Penny replied wanting to increase three female’s sexual pleasure, before we moved to a bedroom, all of us slipping on on high heels at Sarah’s request.

Penny took the initiative, standing Sarah with her back to a wall, facing a full length wall mirror. Both of them tongue kissing passionately. Then Penny licking and sucking Sarah’s nipples while I took over tongue kissing her. Any jealousy I may have had sharing my baby doll lesbian lover with Sarah was long past, replaced by the sexual excitement of sharing my newest lesbian lover with her.

I was still tongue kissing Sarah as she thrust her vagina toward the tip of Penny’s tongue as she knelt in front of her, grasping her ass cheeks.

I stood behind Sarah, my pubes grinding into her glorious big ass, tongue kissing her over her shoulder as she thrust her vagina toward the tip of Penny’s tongue as she knelt in front of her, grasping her ass cheeks.

Watching Penny using some of the cunnilingus techniques, tongue fucking techniques she had leant from me. Alternately using the tip of her tongue, then the flat of it, and her lips as she explored Sarah’s vulva, all three sensations a little different, providing subtly different sensations for them both.

Using the tip of her tongue to tease just the underside of her clitoral shaft, using light little licks. Spreading her labia, focusing on licking the area of the front commissure, just above her clit, using her index finger, interspersing horizontal finger strokes across her glans with vertical tongue strokes.

Increasing her arousal by inserting a single finger, using her tongue to enhance her arousal, then a finger to complement and push her arousal further. Pressing a finger upwards into her G-spot, while applying persistent licks.

Touching her modest tits, gently squeezing her nipples, caressing her stomach. Apply persistent licks under her hood, licking her clitoral hood, the fold of skin covering the glans of her clit, so sensitive. Gently sliding it back licking it, licking the clit directly, so slow and gentle.

Kissing all around her thighs, Licking around her Venus mound. Taking her time to draw awareness and circulation to the region before she re-started licking, kissing and sucking.

Awakening all her corollary nerve endings with gentle kisses, using warm, gentle breath. Edging Sarah, taking her time. building anticipation, building more anticipation, creating more pleasure.

Bringing Sarah close to orgasm, then backing off a little, teasing her edging her, delaying her climax, her orgasm. Wanting to make her orgasm at the end of their love making, an incredibly powerful one.

Grinding her crotch against Sarah’s, all three of us kissing me as she did. Approaching slowly and gently, their hips starting to thrust, using primal hip movements to guide pressure and speed, wanting to increase the intensity for both of them.

Using her fingers, fingering Sarah while licking her clit, wanting to provide intense, explosive sexual pleasure as her finger brushed against her g-spot inside her vagina.

Talking to her, a conversation. “I love to tongue another woman, you are a real woman, such an exciting challenge Sarah, so good. Even better with my lover watching.”

Sarah showing Penny and me she was multi-orgasmic as she moaned, “Fuckamycunt, fuckamycunt, fuckamycunt, I love it.”

For the first time ever Sarah had new lesbian lovers on consecutive nights, her libido in overdrive, so pleased I shared her with Penny. She has promised to invite me to join her and her man soon.

As a footnote, Penny was insatiable for the next week. Lucky me.

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