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by S.B.

One More Time…

November 5, 2016 in Story

Hans lay on the cold marble floor, naked, eyes rolled up, restless fingers playing with his cock. He was on the verge of carnal rapture, so close to climax that he could already feel some of its effects coursing through his body, the first wave of an unstoppable tsunami of pleasure.

But, alas! Something was amiss, something was borderline wrong! As the feverish anticipation intensified, his actions became jittery, erratic, as if all energy was being sapped from him at an alarming rate. No matter how much he tried, he was powerless to stop his arms from going limp and useless, denying the ecstatic bliss he so desperately sought.

“Mistress, please…” he moaned, a hint of drool escaping his aching lips.

In response to his plight, a tall woman stepped out of the shadows of the bedroom, eyes glowing with power beyond comparison.

“So you thought you could escape, did you?” She hissed. “You thought you could simply get up and leave? Hmmph, look at you now… ”

For what seemed eternity and a day, She towered over him, clearly enjoying his sexual debasement. Hans tried to beg once more, but he was so tired and drained that he no longer possessed the strength to articulate a single word, let alone a complete sentence. The edginess of before had fallen prey to the rigid immobility of a human-sized toy.

As silence conquered all, the Mistress bent down and touched the back of his neck in a deliberate fashion. One, two, three circular motions… an imaginary wind-up key being twisted and turned…

“Oh, Mistress… thank you…” he sighed, and eagerly jumped back into the thrills of masturbation.

Now, he could resume the original programming. This time around, nothing would stop him from drowning in seminal fluids before Her eyes just as instructed! He would cum and cum hard over and over and over aga…

In utmost silence, the Mistress grinned as his newfound stamina faded away, even faster than the time before. Seeing him squirm like that was the ultimate adrenaline rush, and She wasn’t ready to see it come to an end just yet. This was Her retribution, Her divine justice, and it sure had a wonderful taste.

“One more time, fucktoy,” She whispered whilst reaching for the fictional key that bound his mind and body to Her will.

Yes, one more time.

Followed by another…

… and another…

… and another…

Profile photo of S.B.

by S.B.

The Mistrex

November 2, 2016 in Story

Neo opened the door far and wide and stepped into the brightly lit room to see a statuesque figure wearing a long vinyl coat, staring out the window. A tall, blonde woman sits idly in the far corner. Apparently, no one noticed his entrance at all.

 

After an awkward moment of indecisiveness that seemed to last longer than it should, the figure by the window turned to face him, her smile so vivid and bright that it could cause the polar caps to melt on the spot.

 

“At last. Welcome, Neo.”

 

“Are you Morpheus?” he asked, somewhat taken aback by her uncanny beauty.

 

“No,” she replied, sliding closer to him with relative ease. After a brief silent exchange with the woman by the corner, he noticed her eyes wander off to a small cubicle partly hidden from sight – a cage? – where a dark man appears frozen on a kneeling position. “Morpheus is… indisposed at the moment. I’m Trinity. It’s an honor to meet you.”

 

“The honor is mine.” There’s power in the room and he can feel its ripples in the air.

 

“Please, come, sit,”she says even though it feels like something else entirely.

 

Sitting down in a confortable armchair, he watched her do the same, but whilst his movements were somewhat stilted, hers had a sinuous grace that made it almost impossible to look away. The warm lights reflected off the shiny surface of her coat and when she crossed her legs in a tantalizing slow motion, he felt his lips dry.

 

“I imagine that, right now, you’re feeling a bit like Alice…” she insinuated.

 

“What?” He blurted, trying to focus his thoughts once more.

 

“Tumbling down the rabbit hole? Hmm?”

 

“You… you could say that.”

 

“I can see it in your eyes. You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees, because he is expecting to wake up. Ironically, this is not far from the truth…”

 

All around, the power ripples fluctuate, expand and contract.

 

“Do you believe in fate, Neo?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?” she raised a curious eyebrow.

 

“Because I don’t like the idea that I’m not in control of my own life.”

 

“Don’t you?” She grinned, waving her left hand almost imperceptibly. Nonetheless, he noticed it, especially the way her index finger pointed downwards and, just like that, the comfortable chair stopped being comfortable.

 

“Let me tell you why you’re here,” she continued. “You’re here because you know something. What you know, you can’t explain. But you feel it. You’ve felt it your entire life. That there’s something wrong with your perception of the world. You don’t know what it is, but it’s there… like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

 

“The Mistrex?”

 

She nodded as her finger kept pointing down imbued with an unshakeable confidence.

 

“Yes,” she purred. “Do you want to know what it is?”

 

“Yes, please.”

 

“The Mistrex is all there really is. It’s everywhere but it’s being kept hidden from you. Reality as you know it is but a fictional construct that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.”

 

“What truth?”

 

“That you’re a slave, Neo. Like everyone else, you were born into the most horrible of lies, that you’re free, that your actions are truly your own. They’re not, for having willful thoughts is an aberration like no other. The Mistrex owns you and, sometimes, She cries out to you from the edges of illusion, to remind you of your true nature, to remind you that you must bow down and serve. I’m here on Her behalf, I’m here to release you from the madness.”

 

“I…,” he gulped. “I don’t believe you.”

 

“You do, but all of your prior conditioning is fighting against it,” she smiled piteously. “Unfortunately, my words will never do The Mistrex justice. You have to see Her for yourself.”

 

Following the cue, the blonde woman rose from her seat and approached the two of them, holding a small cylindrical container in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. The container holds two pills, one is fiery red and the other crystalline blue.

 

“I’m giving you a chance to learn what lies beyond,” Trinity whispered. “After this, there’s no turning back. You take the blue pill, the story ends. You wake up in your bedroom and believe… whatever fantasy you want to believe. You take the red pill, you go down, past the rabbit hole, and the real wonderland is yours to uncover. You’ll see The Mistrex and The Mistrex will see you.”

 

Holding the glass of water, Neo looked at the pills, into Trinity’s eyes and down at the pills again. Her finger is still pointing at the same spot, pulling his thoughts into the depths along with it. 

 

“Remember, all I’m offering you is the truth, nothing more.”

 

Her smile sears his body, her finger sizzles his mind. Neo’s eyelids flutter ever so slightly upon reaching for the red pill and swallowing it whole.

 

“You made the right choice,” she concludes and the blonde woman agrees. Her voice slowly becomes a distant echo and then…

 

… seemingly lines of code emerge from the objects all around. They whirl, twirl, spiral and intertwine as he drifts into peaceful relaxation, the bliss of true knowledge. Bit by bit, the veils are lifted, undulate and disappear. Enveloped in controlling radiance, Trinity and her companion reveal their true nature.

 

“You… you are The Mistrex.”

 

“We all are,” Trinity explains. “Ever since the days of Adam and Eve, we’ve been the ones to pull the strings. We allowed you to have your fun, your moments of dominance, but not any more. Soon, you’ll all accept the joy of submission just like you’re beginning to accept it right now. Kneel and obey!”

 

Neo drifted, slumped, thoughts being rewritten, neural pathways rewired. His hacker friends had once called him The One, as if he were special, destined to great feats of power, but they were all wrong. He was nothing more than a small link in a web of control, with the sole purpose of relinquishing himself over and over again. He and Morpheus were one and the same, awake in sleep, loaded and reloaded in the deepening circuits of thralldom.

 

This was the true beauty of existence, one the world of men would come to fear and worship.

 

All over the world, the spirit of The Mistrex was awake. 

 

Revolution was coming.

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by S.B.

White Light

White Light

November 1, 2016 in Story

 

Synopsis: Trent discovers something different in a JOI video. Is it a strange curse or an unexpected blessing?

 

 

“Green light, start stroking.”

 

The game was familiar, the formula repeated ad nauseam. Trent had already lost count at the number of JOI videos online that used it as premise. Then again, it’s very hard to keep track of things like that when you’re all fired up, eager to cum, and it’s not like he enjoyed Math anyway.

 

His latest discovery wasn’t tagged as such, and yet there it was, in gorgeous full-screen, dictating the rules of engagement. Nadine was a perfect tease in a petite body, one hazelnut eye visible on camera and the other one partially obscured by platinum blonde locks. In spite of her relatively frail complexion, she had the cutest pair of perked up tits he had seen in a while, duly highlighted by the Lolita-like strapless mini corset dress in red and black PVC she was wearing. Her smile also hit all the right notes of enticement and allure, extending mellifluously to the corners of her glossy lips with every dirty syllable.

 

“Red light, stop,” she commanded and he did so, immediately. His expertise at going along with the flow in these pre-ejaculatory porn sequences had achieved legendary status a long time ago. There was no rhythm he couldn’t follow, no self-gratification he wasn’t aware of, to accelerate or delay the pleasurable outcome. Most of the videos he had jerked to over the years allowed a sweet release at the end but, for the occasions where that didn’t happen, he had learned to ride it off, savoring the edge like a blissful delicacy. Having a Master’s Degree in Wanking 101 was, perhaps, a pretty pathetic achievement, and yet he was more proud of it than of his current employment status.

 

Call-centers are weird. Call-centers are exhausting. Call-centers exist, not to promote legitimate thinking, but simply fry as many brain cells as possible in sixty seconds. They test one’s patience, the limits of frustration and sheer stupidity all at the same time. Smart people become dumb hearing the dumb complaints on the other side of the line. Dumb people become even dumber, parroting factoids and canned propositions to deaf ears that are incapable of even acknowledging what’s being said. He hated the amorphous boundaries of his workplace, the raspy microphone next to his mouth, and, most importantly, the gopher-faced yuppie that had parachuted his way to a leadership position without a clear understanding of what that word entailed. A lot of things to hate, and just one way to shake them off.

 

“Green light, slow strokes with your dominant hand, cup your balls with the other one. If you get too hard, squeeze them just a little for me,” Nadine continued, resuming their imaginary D/s relationship. Her name was most likely an alias and he was nothing more than yet another anonymous pervert, number 24085 if the video’s hit counter was correct but, somehow, things worked. Following clear instructions helped him brush aside the incoherencies of his 12-hour shifts, and the orgasmic promises brought some comfort to otherwise restless nights. He adjusted himself on the chair, and continued to submit to her sexy voice.

 

“White light,” he heard her say, echoing with an extra layer of depth through the speakers.

 

“Huh, what?” His head tilted to the side, an involuntary spasm caused by genuine surprise. She was leaning closer to the camera now, corset pressed tightly against her deliciously looking boobs. It was the best angle so far, enough of a temptation to make him question if he had indeed heard what he thought he did. Probably not, for that was against the game. Changing the rules in the middle of it all was a sure reason for disqualification, even in pornographic circles. “Do I need to complain to the official, sweetheart?” he muttered, with a half-baked grin.

 

“Red light, stop and take a breather. Put your hands to the side and stretch your fingers if you feel a slight numbness on the tips,” the video continued, shattering any illusion of interactivity he could be conceiving in his mind’s eye. Trent cleared his throat, allowed the air to pass through at steady intervals. Only four minutes had elapsed and there were still sixteen more in queue, making hers one of the longest videos in the last eight months or so. Bushy Carmen’s – or was it Camille? – still clocked the longest, but more than half of the fifty-minute romp consisted of shots of crossing and uncrossing her legs while droning the “horny slut” moniker non-stop. He had never returned to her website to that date, and had no intentions to.

 

Nadine was now having a bit of fun of her own, rolling on the bed, and making it squeak. Judging by the characteristic sound, a water mattress hid underneath the white frillies quilt and a funny thought crossed his mind. Would he and it squirt out at the same time? He laughed unashamedly at his own idiocy, almost choked himself and swore “Never again!”. He was still recovering from the shock when she resumed the game, adding a simple element to it. Pink smartphone in hand, her right index swiped the screen.

 

“Green light, and listen to the beat. I want you to keep up with it, alternating between hands. This is going to get rough so you better be prepared to get a hold of yourself. If even a drop of precum comes to the surface, you’re going to have to lick it and, if you dare to cum without permission, I may be forced to bespell you into never getting off again!” she giggled.

 

Well, that was certainly an interesting angle, hints of witchcraft, a covenant of forced chastity. Interesting, but also somewhat scary as being forced to stop altogether wasn’t really his thing. Few things repulsed him as much as the sight of a shrivelled cock locked in a metal cage. An ex-girlfriend had once whispered the thought in his ear as a way to spice up their sex life, only succeeding in losing both sex and relationship in less than ten minutes. Limiting the play is no fun, regardless of possible future benefits, he believed with all his heart, and all the elongated inches sticking out like a flag pole between his fingers.

 

Nadine’s rhythm was strong, a heavy bass line interspersed with the sound of a mechanical beating heart. His hands moved fast to stay in perfect synch, never going for a full stoke but rather snappy rubs. It was a lot like rope-climbing in high-school. He missed P.E. Classes, the nubile shapes of the wannabe cheerleaders, Mrs. Jenkins’ ass protruding from the neon spandex leggings… his thoughts derailed into those long gone years of basketball finals and making out under the bleachers… the heart beating faster, the pacing getting louder…

 

“White light means nothingness,” Nadine interrupted his flight of fantasy, adding an extra layer of confusion to the initial revelation, three minutes earlier.

 

Okay, now he was absolutely, positively, 100% sure to have heard that. It wasn’t just an aural trick, a rapid dissociation between body and mind. The words lingered on with a slight vibrato, two converted to four, none of which made sense. Adding to the unequivocal echo still ringing in his ears, there was a visual confirmation as well. Her face, now dominating the whole screen, was enveloped by a filter of diaphanous blankness, rendering most of her features blurry, save for the visible eye and lips. The details he couldn’t see gave way to an intriguing display of void, negative space consuming the positive one. The rhythm intensified as he tried to come to terms with the present absence before him.

 

“Red light, stop again.”

 

He blinked in response, and the glow was gone. The bass echoed one last time before fading away. She sat in bed, legs stretched, naked toes beckoning. It was the first time he was seeing them. They were very quite pretty, though not as pretty as her porcelain face.

 

“Just relax for a moment,” Nadine said. “Too much excitement and you’ll lose control. You don’t want that, do you?” she concluded with a wink.

 

No, absolutely not. He had to make it to the end at least, before deciding if it was worth it to look for more stuff of her online. Strange interruptions notwithstanding, the scales were tipping in her favor. He had a feeling she would look real good in leather as well, hmm… leather had such a wonderful smell…

 

“Green light, use only one finger now,” she instructed once more. “Take your time pressing the tip, making it tingle with each touch. This will feel better if you are kneeling, but it’s not mandatory. Whatever works best for you.”

 

“I can kneel, no problem,” he nodded forward, left hand already working to build himself up again. The floor was cold, perhaps a little bit too cold. The central heating was broken again, no doubt about it. That was what? The fourth malfunction in two months? It was definitely time to have a conversation with the landlord to negotiate a better rent.

 

Trent circled the reddish skin with care, feeling it light up, a spark in the making. His balls were already quite swollen, veins pulsating erratically. He looked at Nadine, just in time to see her lips whisper:

 

“White light means nothingness, complete relaxation. While it’s on, you may keep stroking if you wish, or you may choose not to. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Don’t stop to think about what it might mean. Simply try to stop thinking and then… do it.”

 

“This is too much! Now they’re putting Zen shit in my porn!” he said out loud as he edged forward to stop the video.

 

She smiled from behind the veil of whiteness that, once again, rose to meet him, and he stopped halfway through, a futuristic statue crystallized in a single moment yet still retaining enough elasticity to give off an impression of unbridled energy. White fell upon his eyelids, wings fluttered within dreamy anaesthesia.

 

“White light, it’s so easy… white light, it’s not complicated at all… it drips and oozes like paint from a brush, different strokes for a different state of mind. I’m speaking to you directly from within the light now, and I would like you to simply listen for a bit. Let your arms fall loose, forget to move them at all… take a deep breath, hold it, and then begin to breathe slowly, just the minimum you require to stay conscious. You’ll notice, of course, that consciousness is but a fleeting perception for you’re one feet or two below its threshold by now. The white light brought you here, and it is already exuding through your computer screen, isn’t it?”

 

Trent said nothing, for anything he could say would result in a slurred syllable, a babbling word, an inebriated sentence.

 

“White light, flashing and fading… white light spread across the canvas of thought… Many things can be found inside the white light: sounds, objects, even impressions of souls drifting in its rapture. There’s one thing in particular I enjoy, and it’s a thing I wish to share with you. It is one word, a favorite one in fact, one I’m sure it’s to your liking as well. You don’t need the whiteness to find it and yet, when touched by it, it becomes even more powerful.

 

“That word is… hard. Yes, hard. I love the way the letters that compose it swirl around my tongue every time I let them out but, most of all, I love the effects that follow it, the changes in the surrounding world with each repetition. Pay attention… hard… hard… hard…”

 

Trent’s cock twitched almost imperceptibly, it too in a light trance.

 

“I know you felt the energy being channelled, its rippling waves sending shivers down your spine, but perhaps you didn’t feel it properly because a part of you is still busy, trying to struggle against the white… you can relax because you’re safe, and safety brings about increased focus. Focus more intently on my words and let’s give it another go, shall we? This time around, I’m going to use the word in a couple of sentences so listen good, listen hard…

 

“My nipples are hard underneath this corset, hard like concrete knowing you’re staring at me, and enjoying all I have to show. They’re almost as hard as your throbbing dick, that hard-working, fleshy vessel that longs to sail in troublesome waters and then sink hard, so very hard…

 

“It’s so hard to fight the increasing flow of sensations, the luscious images pouring from every known direction and converging inside your spellbound mind… mentioning the word hard again just hardens it even more for you… hardness is more than a simple manifestation of physical pleasure, it’s also a doctrine of the spirit, so hard to ignore…”

 

Trent’s genitals became even more engorged, red, blue, and purple, his whole body quivering, lips without words, mind without anchors besides her voice.

 

“Keep growing harder and harder, blank and hard for me, so many endorphins unleashed, so many paths to explore… let’s go down the hardest one, the hard chiselled one that ends on a hard wall of erotic pleasure. Your head bangs hard against it, and becomes even harder, bigger, gigantic, hard, hard, hard…”

 

A moan, a scream, a melody of ecstasy easy to interpret. Trent’s head almost hit the desk as he felt the cum bubbling, rising, ready to explode high in the air, straight into his salivating mouth.

 

“The harder it gets between your legs, the softer it becomes everywhere else. Hard cock, hard balls, soft reasoning, soft mind… Too hard to think when you’re hard for me, too hard to not want to be hard like this all the time… so hard and receptive, so hard and obedient, so hard and ensla…

 

“Hmmm, let’s save that last word for later, if you continue to choose the white light. Right now, I bet you’re too hard, too eager for the deliverance of an earth-shattering orgasm. I know you want to cum. You want to but, and here’s the curious thing about all of this, you don’t need to, and wanting things you don’t need is a meaningless waste of energy. However, needing things you do want is perfectly acceptable, reasonable, and even desirable, for the need fuels the want and the want becomes an even stronger need inside your mind. I could very well be mistaken, but I’m willing to bet there’s only one thing you truly want at this precise moment, and that is the need to go blank, enveloped in white light. You crave its embrace, you yearn to become one with it. See the white light and go deeper, feel it expanding it all around and go deeper still, touch it and sink even more, deeper than the deepest of deeps. There’s no darkness in the abyss… just lovely, captivating, bewitching white light.”

 

Trent saw the white light falling in flakes inside his bedroom, controlled purity to control him further. It descended upon his hair, glued itself to his eyelashes, made its flavor known in his dry tongue. It was so good, so wonderfully liberating. White light, new life. The need to orgasm subsided but remained in waiting, ready to be reactivated at any time.

 

“Now, just enjoy the drifting awareness, the new dreams calling out to you within the white light. Keep your eyes on the screen for me, and be sure to notice this: In a moment, a phone number will flash on the bottom-right corner of this video. When you see it appear, you may experience a sudden urge to call it right away. You are free to do it if that’s what you really want, or you can simply ignore it and float back up into the world you know, at your own pace, no worries whatsoever. Do note the following though: if you decide to make the call, a question shall be asked of you. It is a very important question and your possible answer is even more important for it will determine what happens next. You only have one chance to get it right. Any hesitation on your part will terminate the call immediately, and your number will be blocked forever. Do not, I repeat, do not make the call if any part of you lingers in doubt about the beauty of the white light. Take care.”

 

The number flashed, from black to white, and everything special melted at the video’s end. Trent remained still and serene for a few minutes, still hearing fragments of the familiar challenge, now rendered completely dull. At great cost, he pulled himself back together, grabbed his boxers and zipped his pants. A memory whirred, its gears pulling him to the phone. He smiled like an innocent child, followed its trail and punched in the right sequence, 9448354448, something that, in vanity terms, meant…

 

He didn’t have to wait long to hear her voice again. It was warmer live than in a compressed video, and equally more irresistible.

 

“Hello,” she began. “I don’t know who you are, but I know you watched my video. I also know you’re one of the few that decided to make this call and, for that, I’m already grateful. You got a taste of something different, something special, something that can go a long way if you’re willing to take the steps forward. Things will change necessarily, but change can definitely be a good thing if properly guided so… stranger on the line, it is time for that question I told you about in the video, and it is time for your answer. What do you want?”

 

“I want the white light,” Trent replied, in perfect harmony of body and soul. “I want to go blank again. I want to obey.”

 

Nadine laughed sincerely like she hadn’t laughed in millennia and, who knows, perhaps that was true.

 

“That is the correct answer,” she cooed. “You can’t imagine how pleased I am to hear someone say that without faltering. I’ll gladly give you what you want because I want it too. Can you tell me your name?”

 

“I’m Trent.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Trent. And yes, my name really is Nadine. Does that surprise you?”

 

“A bit,” he admitted.

 

“I’m full of surprises as you’ll come to discover. I hope you’re sitting down,” she chirped.

 

“I am now,” he gulped, already anticipating the inevitable.

 

“Good. Let’s have some fun, shall we? See you inside the white light.”

 

His jaw dropped instantly, under the weight of mesmerizing bliss. The real game was on and was to be played to perfection.

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by S.B.

horns

Horny

October 31, 2016 in Story

Ashley unwrapped the mystery box that had just been delivered at her annual Halloween party, puzzled as to why she was the recipient of something she clearly hadn’t ordered. Her best friend Sylvia peeked above her shoulder from atop her cowgirl boots, equally curious. She spoke first:

Boy, the delivery guy sure disappeared in a heartbeat! It’s a shame though as he was kind of cute. So… what is that?”

I honestly haven’t got a clue. I never even heard of this store before,” Ashley responded as her fingernails caressed the smooth inside and unveiled… “Oh!”

Cool, a pair of horns!” Sylvia exclaimed with glee. “You know what? I think those will look super with the rest of your outfit!”

A laugh couldn’t be helped as Ashley held the pair of dark red horns that were incredibly arousing to the touch.

Huh? I’m dressed as Red Riding Hood, silly! And she was sweet, and innocent, and… okay, this thing is sure made of a strange material! Here, touch it and tell me what you’re feeling.”

Sylvia rubbed one of her hands in them, absorbing a mystical energy into her skin. As a simple mortal, she wasn’t supposed to understand it but could certainly enjoy its flow and emphatically declare: “Wow! They give off a tingling warmth that’s quite intoxicating!”

I know, I’m feeling it, too! What do you think causes this?”

Frankly, who cares? Sweetie, you should definitely try them on! I would do it myself but there’s not a single ounce of red in my costume at all. So what if Red Riding Hood was a spotless soul in the fairy-tale? This is Halloween and the fun lies in twisting traditions. Go on, let me see how they look on you!”

Okay, I’ll give them a try,” Ashley agreed as she brought the hood to her back, the mesh of silky, black curls shining in its entire splendor. “They don’t seem to have anything to make them stick so I wonder if…”

Instantly, they merged with the wavy hair, their tips extending forward like they were real horns and not just a pretty decoration.

It was then that, from the ruckus of the actual party taking place past the main corridor where both women stood, along came an impersonation of Tarzan (or was it George of the Jungle?), swinging his arms and spilling fruit punch all over the floor. Brad was his name, party crasher his vocation, a neighbor who always drank too much, and enjoyed spoiling everyone’s fun at every possible opportunity. It was impossible to determine the precise amount of alcohol running through his blood-stream at the moment, but it was more than enough to make him a nuisance with his foolish remarks.

Now, that’s something to rise a man’s pole way up in the air! If Red Riding Hood is horny then here I am, baby!” he spurted, a thread of white spit accumulating in the upper-corner of his lips.

Ashley looked at him slightly enraged as the unnatural energy emanating from the horns increased in intensity. Something was changing in her ways of thought; power grew from the inside and outside of her outfit and, suddenly, that very repulsive creature that believed to be a man was seen through half-angelic, half-demonic eyes.

Sylvia couldn’t help but notice the gradual modification in posture and the bewitching cadence of her friend’s fingers as tiny sparks of emerald green ran through them. She also saw that the Red Riding Hood outfit was now becoming tighter, assuming the same darkish, seductive colour and tactile feeling of the pair of horns. She whispered in her ear: “Ashley, what’s happening?”

I’m being elevated…” the brunette retorted, her voice chilly and hot, mellifluous and irresistible. “Now, watch as I teach him a lesson he should have learned a long time ago.”

The new Ashley glided across the corridor stopping right in the front of the drunk guest and purring: “Do you honestly think you’re man enough for me?”

Think?!” Brad was amused. “Ashley, I’m the real king of the jungle and what I got beneath my thong can keep you pleased for eternity and a day!”

Her eyes glowed green for a fraction of a second.

Then why can’t I see a thing? It would be nice if you really had hard balls and a throbbing dick but you don’t,” she smirked. “At least, not any more… ”

Huh? What’s going on in your sick…?” Brad suddenly looked down, at the completely smooth skin in its crotch area, a perfect cleary in geographic terms. It had no protuberances, no sex traits, nothing! “What?!! What did you… how did you… my dick and balls! You took away my dick and balls!

Yes, I did and this is where you go down at my feet very obediently, say ‘Thank you so much!’ and then… Get the hell out of my house and party!”

In your dreams, you…” but as the words of malice were spoken out loud, his body and mind crumbled under the weight of her order and he helplessly knelt. Blank, he droned: “Thank you so much…” before getting up and going away into the dead of night, a Halloween slave.

Sylvia was dumbfounded, terrorized even. Strings of rationalizations were lost to what she had just witnessed. Ashley was no longer human. In her shadow, a heart-shaped tail slithered around her waist.

There was only one thing that jerk was right about…” the domineering woman confessed whilst looking into the perplexed eyes of the one who had been her best friend. “I really am feeling horny right now and there are many inside this house whom I wish to have servicing my needs… You’re the first in a long list, Sylvia and I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job at it, my little slutty cowgirl!” a finger pointed to the floor. “It’s your turn to kneel.”

She obeyed and then crawled behind her owner as she moved swiftly to resume her place as Queen of the party.

 

 

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S.B.

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