"I suppose it's different for everyone. The man who changed me just couldn't understand why it upset me to have killed people. It wasn't until I began to troll for rapists on the Heath (I'll tell you about that sometime -- amazing how satisfying it is to overcome someone who used to frighten you) that he decided to take my preferences seriously. He was amused by my targeting such people, but he considered it dangerous, so he finally filled me in on the facts. We don't have to kill at all to survive. We can take just enough and then make people forget. We don't even have to take the blood from human beings. So the whole moral quandary business is just an enormous red herring. No one has to be hurt at all."
I wiggle happily against you.
"Of course, if one happens to be a Kantian, it's still wrong to use people as means to ends. But I prefer your countryman Hume, who has no such inconvenient philosophy."
"So it's philosophy now, is it?"
You look surprised.
"I only LOOK nineteen," I point out. "I'm really old enough to be your mother. Bound to be smarter than a callow person such as yourself."
You squawk in mock outrage.
The End.
His Tail Tale Heart
You can't deny that sanity was lacking from this room. The smell of sweatiness and salt from blood was almost as unpleasant as the shackles around their feet. No one knew the time of day; instead, time could counted by the amount of shallow breathe uttered from your shivering cell mates body. Aside from the severe discomfort, I had to find a way of escape.
These eerie stone walls dimed the entire moon's light shining in through the only window of opportunity for escape. Its bars were old from the weather's natural wear and degradation on them. If there was only some way out of these shackles...
There was nothing. For a long time, there was nothing.
The cell doors open. They bring in a man. But this is the woman's cell, right? He was as naked as we were. By the look of his scars on his long, lean, and subtly muscular body I knew he had been whipped....probably tortured and starved.
His hair was a severe dark brown; it was so close to black. It looks as though he is going to be unconscious for a while.
As the guards shackled him down and then left, the atmosphere became gloomier. There is a tattoo his chest was of a wolf silhouette. It looked vicious and sad at the same time. And his member was...
What am I thinking about?! That should be the last thing on my mind. Sexy strangers with kissable lips and...
Ugh! The place has really made me lose it!
My cell mate has never slept this long. I listened carefully.
She's not breathing, I realized. She'd dead. My cheeks tingled. Then I realized I was crying...no sobbing. We spent so much time together and I never knew her name. She was deaf, and it's hard to use my sign language skills all shackled up to the floor and wall.
Now I truly am alone in this wretched cell with this strange man.
---------------------------------------------
I awoke. I'm still partially blind. I was born with really bad eyesight. I could hear breathing directly ahead of me.
Damn! These shackles are too tight. My hands are numbing.
"Who are you?" I called out, still alarmed that I wasn't alone in this insanity trap.
"I am Alyssa. Who are you?"
There was innocence to her voice that made everything all okay. I shouldn't trust her, but my whole bodies instincts were fighting against it.
With a much internal conflict, I told her my true name anyways. "I'm Leo."
"Hi Leo." I could feel the sadness in her voice.
"Are shackled as well?"
"Yes." The chains rattled a bit. "See?"
"I'm afraid not, my dear. I can't see you too well at all."
"My previous cell mate just died. She's right here next to me on the floor. I saw her go..." The beautiful voice broke out into sobs as she informed me this. I felt the urge to immediately comfort her and wipe her tears away.
Reality, sadly takes these precious moments away. In a couple of days I would need to shift. Unfortunately, shifting and feeding go hand in hand. We weren't werewolves; it's something more sophisticated than that. We don't shift by the moon cycle either. However, shifting is mandatory; I can't suppress the beast for more than a couple of months. By then the beast is volatile and hungry-at its most dangerous state.
I haven't sated mines in months. I've taken a civilized city job, and finally found paying work as a music artist. This job is time-consuming. I didn't have much time for anything- including women and sex altogether.
I'm trapped in here with a woman. I am horny as hell. My wolf is hungry as hell. How did I get myself into such a mess? It's such a terrible mess. I have a strange affinity towards this woman and in a couple of days I'll be strong enough to escape- and unfortunately, strong enough to either rape her or rip her to shreds.
Think! Ok, there has to be a way out of here. Ah! So now my hands are numb. I can feel around these walls but anything useful should be on the floor. Hmm..
"What's in here?" I ask her. "I want to see everything you see, no matter how mundane..."
------------------------ ----------------------
"What's in here?" he asks. His voice is beyond sexy... "I want to see everything you see, no matter how mundane..."
Focus! I was slightly aroused, and at the same time in pain. "I see..."
The End.
Eros Pays a Visit
We all know the ancient Greek gods all live on Mount Olympus and as long as they remain on the mountaintop stay immortal. However, what many do not know is that every two or three hundred years they are allowed a pass to our world. Still, most of us know that the first time Eros came to visit, following instructions from his mother, he was to destroy Psyche's happiness but instead he fell in love with her. Once Psyche discovered who he was, he fled and she was cursed to roam the earth in search of him.
Therefore, it came to pass that Eros was visiting our mortal coil and just by chance, he came to our fair city. Eros had not been among the mortals for over three hundred years, and now as he wandered our streets he was amazed at the changes in our life style. He tarried at a coffeehouse where he samples a drink truly fit for the gods. He asked a young man who worked there about his beverage and he said,
"It's just a Frappuccino, but Skykee really does a good job with the steamer."
Eros blanched at the sound of the name, could this be his long lost Psyche.
"Did you say Psyche, you mean Psyche is here?"
"Well actually I think yours was her last drink for the day and now she's outie. See I told you there she goes now."
The young lad pointed in the direction a female was walking. Eros took off running after her,
"Hey dude, you didn't pay, ah that's lame."
As he caught up to her he grasped her arm only to have her spin around and kick him in the groin. Gasping in pain, he wheezed,
"Psyche, it is me Eros don't you remember, I know it has been a long time but I am the same."
"Did you say Harold; say are you that little kid that used to live up the street from me? Ah gee I'm sorry for kicking you in the nuts but you can't be too careful in this city. Here let me help you up, you know nobody calls me by my last name, just call me Julie."
As Eros lay on the sidewalk, remembering how much he hated pain, he looked up to his beloved Psyche. She could not be over twenty and as she looked quite lovely, it was her face as captivating as ever and he wished he could spend eternity just gazing into it.
"You look pretty beat up; I guess I kicked you kinda hard. Come on I just live down the street, I'll take you home with me."
Eros noticed her dwelling was shared by four families, each with their own unit. Hers was unkempt as there were food cartons and articles of clothing strewn all over and yet his hostess seemed not to notice. She said she would put on some sounds and once she flicked a switch, a cacophony erupted from the wall scaring Eros. She informed him it wa
s something called an 'oldie' from NWA and after telling her it was too loud, she did reduce the volume. She next passed him a strange looking devise and as she held fire to one end, he sampled smoke out of the other. She told him it was good shit and although it did smell odd, he didn't think it smelled like feces. He began to feel very relaxed and somehow even the strange noises from the wall started to entertain him.
"I don't know about you little guy, but when I get wasted I get horny. Pull off those pants and let's get it on."
Wonder of wonder did this mean that after all these centuries Eros was finally getting the chance to mate with his fair Psyche. Just the thought made his arrow rise and as he took down his trousers it stood out before him hard and straight.
"Hey baby you're really packing, bring that monster over to me."
As he neared her, she grabbed him by his mighty shaft, pulled him closer and to his shock opened her mouth, then swallowed him down. The shock quickly turned to passion as she performed magic with her lips and tongue and before he knew what was going on he had erupted spewing his godly nectar down her throat.
"Oh Psyche, my Psyche, what have I done, I have wasted my seed..."
"Would you take a chill pill, I always like to taste a man before I fuck him and now that I think about it you spunk kinda reminds me of the ambrosia my mother used to make."
Eros was about to tell her that in truth the food ambrosia was indeed copied from the sperm of Zeus but then his beloved began to undress and it was quickly forgotten.
As his maiden undressed, he first noticed strange drawings on her body and even one that looked like Aphrodite her sworn enemy. He inquired on the drawing and she indeed said it was a tat (whatever that was) of a Greek goddess. When she barred her lovely breasts to him, he saw golden rings through her nipples and he wondered if by chance she had been held a prisoner somewhere. He noticed she had a pearl attached to that most treasured spot of the woman. The biggest surprise to him was the complete absence of hair on her body and he actually began to worry that perhaps she may be only a child. Yet when he asked her age she replied she was twenty-two years and then laughed at his inquiry of body hair as she answered she waxed. Still with all the oddities it was still his Psyche's body and he wanted to devour her and yet he was still shocked as she pushed him on his back and mounted him as Zeus would a bull. Yet instead of settling on his arrow, she mounted his face with her precious prize.
Eros looked in to his beloved's face as she rocked to and fro on his, her pearl tickling his nose. The erotic scent and taste of this wonderful mortal was driving him into frenzy. He could see by the look on Psyche's face that she too was nearing the point where humans are nearest the gods. And then she was orgasmed into divineness. She lay on top of him panting and he felt the droplets of sweat dropping off her onto him. Then in a wrestling move learned from the mats of Olympus, he spun her under him and then he plunged his arrow deep into her quiver.
She gasped, not in pain but in surprise of how deep his stinger went. He let her recover but only briefly and then he began his assault. He rode her long and hard all the while staring into her soft dark eyes as she returned his stare and just as he neared his crescendo she screamed,
"Oh Eros, take me I am yours forever."
They came together in an unearthly passion and then it was over as both lay hot and exhausted in a heap. Finally, after catching his breath Eros whispered in her ear,
"My Psyche, you do remember me after all these centuries. Now we will never part no matter what my mother says."
"Listen Harold or whatever your name is, it's been a hoot but my old man's coming home soon and if he finds you here he'll kick your ass, so you better get dressed and leave."
Crushed and dejected once again after all these centuries Eros did as she requested although she asked to sample his nectar one more time and he granted her this as a good-bye gift. She knelt before him undoing his trousers and then the look of joy on her face as she held his arrow to her lips made him love her all the more. He tried to delay his eruption but alas the feel of her lips upon his love tool was too enticing and too soon he gave her what she desired. His only hope now was that she never would forget the taste of his ambrosia.
Once Eros was back home, he couldn't help but ponder his time with the mortals and particularly with his beloved Psyche. He knew she screamed his name but later claimed she knew not what he spoke of, so how could this be. He finally realized this could not have been his true love but merely a distant generation of her. The delight came with the understanding that Psyche's love of Eros was written in her genes and had stayed with her offspring down through the centuries. Eros was finally at peace. Now if he could just talk Leda into a pearl, set into her most precious spot.
The End.
Chocolate
The name on her badge was Bunty, but he knew her colleagues called her Bee. It was a strange name for a girl so young. Every Saturday morning she stood at the chocolate counter in his local supermarket, cutting samples of chocolate fudge into identical little strips for the customers to try, idly twirling her brown hair, scratching at the places where her skin met the navy A-line uniform that drowned her. She wore nothing under it except her bra and knickers, and tights in the winter. He knew that because sometimes it gaped when she reached her gloved hand into the display. Pyramid stacks of handmade Irish chocolates, cubes of home made fudge, ready-wrapped gift boxes. The sweet smell filled his head as he watched her yawn and stretch, ready for another day at work.
Nothing to look at, his best friend Victor had told him, smirking at his ridiculous crush. Her hair was fuzzy rather than curly, as if she had tried to brush out a perm. The lacy tip of her bra poked out of the v-neck of her uniform when she stretched. Metal braces glinted in her mouth. Sometimes she had pimples on her chin. She slouched as if she had not quite grown into her body. But her eyes were dark brown and lined with dark, thick lashes. His gaze was drawn to them again and again. Dark brown, like an espresso. The perfect match for chocolate.
The first time he had enough courage to approach the counter to buy something, she had a bright red badge pinned to her uniform, beside her name. Congratulations! 18 today. He was surprised. She did not look older than sixteen. When she saw him approach, she smiled. Her braces were gone, her teeth straight and white. Her cheeks dimpled and he felt his pulse start to pound in his head.
He nodded at her badge. "Happy birthday," he said, feeling the blood rise in his cheeks.
She smiled again, and cocked her head to one side. "I'm sorry, do I know you? You look awfully familiar."
He shrugged. "Probably just from in here," he said, gesturing around him at the supermarket which was now heaving with Saturday morning shoppers. The piped music was always the same, the noise of toddlers screaming and the low hum of conversation just faded into nothing under the power of her gaze. He felt tongue tied in a way he had not felt since he himself was a teenager. "I'm Ian. Er...I'd like some chocolates, please. In a gift box."
She pulled a plastic glove out of a box and slipped it on her hand. Her nails were painted a bubblegum pink, the varnish already starting to chip. "Twelve or sixteen?" she asked. She had a slight lisp. He saw the pink tip of her tongue dance between her teeth as she spoke, and felt something melt inside his chest.
"Sixteen," he said. "I'll just point, shall I?" As she leaned forward to pick up the chocolates he pointed to, his eyes were drawn to the gape of her neckline. Her skin was smooth and shadowy, the pink lace of her bra peeking out. She moved slowly, as if afraid the carefully arranged pyramids might collapse if she pulled out the wrong brick. When she was done, he watched her tying the small box with an uneven bow, then eyeing it critically, pulling at the loose ribbon and finally using scissors to scrape it into ringlets. He had no idea who he was going to give it to. Just plucking up the courage to speak to her had taken months. He was tired of hanging around the canned meats, buying things he didn't want, just to be in her sight.
When she was done, s
he put the box on the counter. "That's a nice selection," she said. "I've marked the price in pencil. You can easily rub it off when you get home."
"Thanks," he said, watching her fingers twisting at her name badge. "Bunty."
She wrinkled her nose. "Bee," she said. "Like the insect. They collect honey, so they're sweet like me." She grinned, then blushed suddenly as if she'd said too much. She looked so young at that moment. He wondered how his thirty years looked in those magnetic brown eyes.
He looked away from her, suddenly uncomfortable. There was something about her that made him regress back to the gawky, awkward teenager he had once been. "Thanks," he mumbled again, grabbing the box and slipping it into his basket. He walked to the checkouts without looking back.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. The word rattled around inside his head, making his cheeks flame again as he queued at the checkout. The chocolates were expensive. As he walked towards the door, he had an idea. His legs almost stopped moving with the force of it. A woman bashed his ankles with her trolley and he hopped and swore as she pushed past, glaring at him.
Now or never. He weaved back into the shop through the crowds at the checkouts. She was staring into space, a ringlet of hair twined around her index finger. Gritting his teeth, he put all thoughts from his mind and walked towards her. She did not notice him until he was right in front of the counter.
"Oh, hello again," she said, blinking. "Did you forget something?"
He put the box of chocolates on the counter and slid them towards her. "Happy birthday," he said. "Look...would you like to go out with me sometime?"
= = = = =
Staring into the mirror, he straightened his tie and ran his fingers through his hair. He did not normally dress up for a date, but this one seemed special somehow. He smoothed his designer shirt, adjusted his belt. He wanted to look perfect for her, just as she always looked for him.
The Dirtiest Daddy's Taboo Page 20