Arousing Family

by Emelia Andersen

  You slow your pace and then pull your fingers from my body.

  You reach your cunt soaked fingers to my mouth and tell me again. "Good girl." I know to suck my juices from your fingers and open my mouth as you push them forward.

  You watch me until I have licked and sucked them completely clean. You set to releasing me from my binds, your thoughts on what you have planned next...

  The End.

  The Secret Breeder

  It's okay if they don't fight back, he recited to himself feeling the limp body over his shoulder and his growing erection straining against his acid washed, Guess jean waist. He hefted her weight over his shoulder and she flopped down on the table groaning incoherently. She mumbled something about the metal lamps overhead being shiny as he stretched her left leg over the stirrup and strapped it in, only to do a half turn and repeating with the other leg in relevant silence. She was naked already except for a blanket that he had wrapped around her but it now failed to protect her exposed sex. As any good boyfriend would have done, he had wrapped her to protect her modesty but now was no time for modesty. The breeding was to begin.

  Tyler -- at least what he'd decided to call himself here -- really did love her but knew, deep down, that their mutual love for each other was dangerous. When he began to mistake their love making for a real human relationship it was time to impregnate, imprison and move on. She had no free will under the power of his race. Sure, he was hominid but his race was long dying and their time tables had shifted to a matter of priorities verses sensibility. Offspring were important to the tribal leaders than love or emotion, just as were the female vessels they needed to conceive their young and no woman had been born to his people since the Great Tainting. It was earth's women that held the key to their survival. They were the queens of tomorrow; willing or not.

  Adele was the prime of that type, a young black haired and blue eyed beauty with great lineage, prime in her health, well-educated and perfect in all the many ways he needed her to be. Her figure was chiseled and yet accented with fine curves that in the fleshy-tan of her body, soaked only in the bright Hawaii sun, she was a marvel to behold. And, yet, her fated quality was that she was alone. Having left her comfortable nest, two thousand miles away from home, and working long hours to live in paradise, it had taken him months to even land a date with her, months to court her, and now he was going to reap his wild reward.

  Her birth control he'd sabotaged with sugar pills and he'd been cooking dinner for weeks, priming her with enough hormones to stimulate the ovulation he needed. At night he'd prick her very gently for a drop of blood off from her finger while she slept under his hypnotic gaze and tonight he knew she was ovulating.

  Tonight she'd get no choice, and he grieved for that fact, that she was another missing person poster amongst a mass of nobodies. But her reality would change. It was a price the best had to pay and he was no longer capable of empathy when the ends truly justified his means.

  He shifted around her, opening the blanket and exposing her breasts in his ship's operations room. Very coldly he conducted his prep business, as he made his logs and adjusted her. Then he undressed.

  Cold hard muscle crawled out of his layers of clothes, linking each frame of his body in smooth transition to the next. By the time he'd stripped to his boxers his erection was shifting up out of the elastic waist band like a big purple flare, the second head, which fell just above his testes was smaller, but it was meant to stimulate the anus as well. He was not small; but she'd taken him before -- although he'd never exposed his dual genitalia to her.

  He stepped forwards and took a side instrument, a long and slender colon cleaner, and he used a lube bottle's contents to prepare it liberally. He took some excess and he found her anus with his finger, very gently applying pressure and lubricating the opening. When pleased with that he took the soft but firm head of the contraption and very easily slipped it into her.

  She gasped and her head lurched up, blue eyes rolling with a, "Please..." But her protest was cut short by a long stare and a bead of sweat formulated on his forehead.

  Adele was as strong willed woman, but not strong enough as the head if the chrome-shimmering machine popped past her sphincter and was announced with a pleasurable groan out of Adele. Using a hand pressurizer he expanded the side bulbs in the contraption to lock it in place as she wriggled in her restraints. Then he clicked on the water.

  It took a few moments before the pain hit her, as her bowels flooded with a soapy water mixture. As quick as it hit, it fell away with the pleasure of being able to pass the water while he drained her bowels.

  For fifteen minutes he proceeded to repeat the procedure, until he was satisfied to her cleanliness and the state of arousal at the enema process compelled. Finally he released the pressure knot inside, withdrew the instrument, and set it back to its compartment. His own fluids, now dribbling out the head of his penis, coated his shafts and balls. He wanted to take her and the pheromones produced let him know she was ripe and ready at such a response.

  First he slipped in two of his fingers into the folds of her labia, working them slowly upwards to feel the glands respond.

  She shot up, "NO!" Her eyes dilating rapidly as she screamed and thrashed. He withdrew his fingers suddenly and felt her buck under him. He gritted his teeth realizing she was aware of his assault.

  Guilt and shame shot through his being and his lips quivered. His hesitation was enough of a tell but his pride and his mission were of more potent strength. This could not fail.

  "I am so sorry, Adele. I love you -- I do. But to be together is impossible. You have to bear the burden of being chosen; I've tainted you. No man, no other man can give you a family. I've had you Adele, I've made your body change in great ways," he held her thrashing frame down at the waist and his arms coiled around her then, up her ribs and cradled her neck. "I'm not here of this world, love."

  He shot a look at her that put her back down hard in the physical paralyzed state again but her eyes still shifted and watered as she focused on him.

  "Listen," he growled, guilt and frustration trembled in his intonation, but moreover he was inwardly amazed at her resilience. "I found you. You are mine for the sake of my peoples. Don't forget that I love you but my burdens are your burdens now."

  Tyler gave no time for her to respond as she started shifting again. He first positioned his main shaft and slammed it into her causing her to gasp. He was big and knew how to use it against any woman. She clamped down over him like a vice grip and he shifted his arm under her as he withdrew slightly. This time her asshole, resolved to the previous assault, opened just enough to wedge the head in and then he bucked his hips forward causing Adele to scream. There was no patience or slowness this time. He began assaulting both holes without mercy and with great physical enjoyment.

  The mental anguish he experienced was more than he really could stand though. Her eyes plead with him for a general explanation and her body, yet, betrayed the fact she was in love with him still. The passion and fire shot through her only to be soured in confusion and a frustrating inability as his mind and a bunch of straps kept her locked to the procedural table.

  She cringed and her eyes flickered at him, but she truly felt the pang of sex run deep up her spine warping her mind to how deep he always went, how big he was and how fantastic sex had always felt with him. Even now he betrayed her and it still felt the same awesome pleasure. It raced across her inner thighs and her nipples rippled in hardening shock. Although the emotional violation sent her reeling and rage kept her ability to break through to him, she still loved this strange man in his confusing and mad antics.

  Adele's own hips bucked back against him spontaneously -- but not trying to rhythmically merge their thrusts. No, she was trying to escape the metal table, the leg stirrups and the mind hold he had over her.

  She offered herself to him - offered her love to him, her life, her feelings, her emotions. Was it a mistake?, she wondered. Each thrust conf
used her more just as his own mind-control over her slipped away in the throes of his love making -- or was it still a breeding? -- he shuddered and she shuddered against him. Their conjoined orgasm was building to a powerful crescendo. The tempo increased as she felt the sliding of his massive dual organ press home into her. When he thrust the final time she cried out while his concentration snapped away from him.

  They writhed together an she grabbed for his face, her lips latching onto his for a split second and she felt her belly contract as his seed bed down into her womb with immeasurable force and a different type of physical bliss. For a few moments the orgasms kept coming -- harder and faster than anything she'd ever felt in her life. It was spontaneous, wonderful and a beautiful in a bizarre way.

  When she looked at his face, a spinning whirl of emotional distress, she ran her hand across his cheek to mop up the tears he bled.

  She loved him. She really did. That was why forgiveness bled out of her being for even this type of action -- a seemingly great big betrayal. Granted, he deserved a punishment for all of it... So she picked her hand off his wet cheek and swatted him across his face. The clap it made echoed in the big star ship walls and then a glow of red instantly charred his pale features.

  He looked shocked and then his face furrowed as her grinning face glared up at him. With a sigh she simply said, "You could've just ASKED."

  The End.

  Maggie

  There she was, again. This had to be four weeks in a row, each Friday, late, when the crowd was dying down. She came down the bar, and sat on the last stool, the one I had to pass when getting more beer or ice.

  She smiled. "Gin and Tonic, please."

  I glanced at the door, expecting him to be right behind. Might as well take his order at the same time. She watched me and said, "He's not coming, if that's what you were waiting for."

  Now I smiled. "Oh, okay. Flying solo tonight?"

  Her look turned sour. "Yeah, this bird has flown that coop."

  I didn't want to get into it, so I mixed her drink and helped another customer.

  I didn't know either of them, but anyone could see they were mismatched. He was mean, and got meaner as he drank. I'd seen the type and would not be surprised in the least if he knocked her around.

  He still wore his hair slicked back like it was 1956 instead of 2010. He wore a dirty work shirt with Gus over the pocket, buttons open to show his chest hair, as if growing that was a talent. He was my age, 35 or so.

  She was a lady. Not that tall, but her long neck made her elegant-looking. She always wore a chain, or beads, to high-light that. Her salt and pepper hair was in a long pageboy, framing her pale skin. The pale blue eyes and red lips stood out against the white background. She always seemed overly-dressed for our neighborhood establishment, as opposed to his pseudo-grunge. Tonight she wore a red satin button-down blouse and black skirt. I guessed she was 45 to 50.

  The crowd grew lighter, and whenever our eyes made contact, she smiled. I knew I was wasting my time, that she would probably be back with him next week, but we made idle chat on and off. Then she brought him up again.

  "Mitch, can I ask you a question?"

  "Sure." Like I could say no, right?

  "What did you think of Gus?"

  I hate that. Why do people ask me things like that! "He seems nice, I don't really know him."

  "He doesn't like you."

  I was surprised. "Oh, okay. He said that, huh?"

  "Yes, he says he can tell that you don't like him much, either."

  Very observant, I thought. Maybe he wasn't so dumb. "Well, I'm sorry he feels that way."

  "I think he's jealous," she said.

  "Of me?"

  "Yes, he has no people skills and he sees how comfortable you are, talking with strangers, especially women. He hates that. Plus he thinks every man is out to steal me away from him, like I was his property."

  "Well, it's my job to be sociable. I'm not this outgoing, usually. And I avoid being too friendly to women when they come in with a man for that same reason, men get jealous."

  "Is that why you look away when I smile at you?" she asked, calmly, and I looked to see her smiling even then.

  I smiled back. "I didn't mean to look away, just trying to watch the customers."

  "Sure... anyway, I don't mean to bend your ear, just wondered about you and Gus, whether he was right."

  There was my exit, my chance to get out of this line of chat, but no! I couldn't leave well-enough alone. "Actually, he was right. He's just not my kind of guy, sorry."

  "Very good!" she said, like we had a breakthrough. "Now, why?"

  "Well, for one thing, he seems very bossy to you, and over-bearing, and jealous. I think women should be treated like ladies, until they prove themselves otherwise."

  She watched me over her glass. "So, you think I'm a lady?"

  "You asked why. That's my answer. Excuse me, another customer."

  The conversation got lighter, then. Her name was Maggie, divorced, no kids. Had dated Gus for 3 months, even though he was married, supposedly separated. Now she found out he was still with his wife and two kids, so he slinked away when she confronted him.

  There was only one couple left, nursing their drinks, so Maggie played the juke box, slow, sleepy love songs, probably feeling sorry for herself but remaining friendly. The song from the Eighties, "Lady in Red" came on, and she touched my hand. "That's me, the lady in red, my favorite color."

  I smiled. "It looks good on you."

  She squeezed my hand. "Can you dance with me?"

  Why not? If someone came in, I'd just stop and serve them. And I doubted that, at this hour. So, we stood at the end of the bar, and she came to me, and leaned right in, her chest melting into mine. Not being an expert, I would put her as a 36D, which seemed even larger since she was about 5'5, with large heels, almost teetering. Her arms were around my waist, and she held me close. I didn't complain. We swayed until the song ended, and even then, kept moving.

  She looked up, our faces close,and whispered, "Thanks, Mitch," and I was tempted to kiss her, but just said, "Thank you, too."

  It got to be last call, and I announced it. The couple seemed to be waiting for it, like a school bell, and was gone in a minute. Maggie asked if she could wait while I closed up.

  "Sure, then I can make sure you get to your car." I shut off the outside lights, and cleaned the bar, my usual routine while we continued talking. In the dim light, it seemed so intimate, and she continued to smile.

  "Okay, almost ready. How about you?" I asked.

  "Tonight was fun, Mitch, thanks for listening."

  "My pleasure," I said as I stepped from behind the bar.

  She came to me again, as if to dance, and wrapped her arms around me. She looked up and said, "I thought you were going to kiss me before."

  "I thought about it."

  "What stopped you?"

  "You just broke up with Gus, you're vulnerable. And I was working."

  "I'm not that vulnerable, and now you're done work. What's stopping you now?"

  I had no answer, and she was so close. I leaned down and our lips met, a soft kiss, testing each other, then another, more pressure, then I felt her tongue. I opened for it, and she moaned slightly.

  The doors were locked, there was no chance of interruption. But a lady would never do it like this, would she? Then why were her hands clenching my ass? And now one is rubbing my crotch?

  It felt so good, with her squeezing my growing bulge, and my hand naturally slid to her breast, feeling her heave through the red satin. This spurred her on. Lady or not, she wanted it, now! And I was just the man to give it. My fingers worked on the buttons and the blouse slid open revealing a red half-bra, lacy, and over-flowing with soft white flesh.

  She was fumbling with my belt when I pulled her further into the back, where the tables were, so no one could look in through the windows.

  Since there was no strap to the bra, her tit popped out easily and
I dove for the nipple, already hard and pointy, and she moaned again, now undoing his jeans. She was whispering, spurring me on, telling me that Gus was right to be jealous of me, that she wanted me for weeks.

  Her blouse was off now, and my zipper was down. She reached into my jockeys and pulled out my swollen prick, the pink head twitching. She made a satisfied groan and began stroking me as I unzipped and shed her skirt. Now, she stood in heels, both breasts out of her bra, in red panties, breathing heavily.

  "Take me, Mitch, take me now!" she moaned as she backed up to a table, sliding her panties down, and laying back, spreading for me.

  Her black bush was trimmed, and her fluids glistened on her pubic hair. She pulled me toward her by my cock, and I didn't fight it, letting her lead me in.

  When I was at the entrance, I stopped and held my self, sliding it up and down her length, lubricating it with her juices. She moaned, her head rolling with pleasure, and I continued until she begged me to stop. Then I entered, slowly, inch by inch, in then out a bit, then in more, until I was over her, in as far as it would go.

  We kissed again, enjoying how deep I was and how warm it felt, then she began to move, rotating her hips, and I did the same. Now I withdrew, almost to the head, then drove back in, and she seemed to extinguish and regain air as I pumped her, gasping, then expunging as I went faster and harder.

  The table creaked and her entire weight was on it. I heard my own grunts matching hers, getting louder with her, until we both were almost screaming! I shouted, "I'm gonna come!" and went to pull out, but she wrapped her legs behind me and said, "No, inside me, inside me!" So, I did, I shot and grunted and she clung to me as she howled to her own climax, matching mine.

  We stayed hunched on the table, gasping for air, for what seemed like forever but was actually minutes. I softened but not totally. We kissed and I withdrew. She laid there, pure white against the dark table cloth, not in a rush to move.