by M. E. Hydra
“Mmm, but you’ll breathe the air I’ll allow you to breathe.”
She writhed on the soft bed of orange-pink flesh like a cat in a shaft of sunshine. As she murmured in pleasure he felt shudders run through the flesh gripping his lower legs. He felt more bubbles of gas well up. Around him, smaller, slender tentacles opened blind mouths and began to hiss. He was enveloped in a thick stew of scents—cheap perfume and the musky aroma of women in a state of arousal.
“It comes with certain... taints,” she smiled. Suggestive and seductive.
The musky odors reminded Rob of the T & A club, but much much stronger. Overpowering. It was like one of those girls had come right off her pole-dance routine and sat on his face, smothering him in her sweaty ass and filling his nostrils with the thick aroma of her pussy as she ground her crotch against him. The scent saturated the dome until Rob could breathe nothing else. In defiance of his current predicament he felt his cock swell within his cutoff shorts.
The girl noticed the growing bulge. “I see you like it.”
She sat up from her fleshy bed. Rob flexed his arms against his bonds and twisted his body in an effort to wriggle free.
The girl chuckled. “Useless. I caught you. You’re all mine now.”
Her fleshy orifice—mouth, vagina—clamped around his legs, holding him in place. Her light fingers started work on the button of his shorts. He couldn’t stop her as his hands were bound behind his back. Unbuttoned, his sodden shorts slid down his legs. The girl saw his lengthening erection and gave a throaty murmur of appreciation.
“What do you want?” he asked.
At first he thought she wanted to eat him. Now it seemed she was more interested in satisfying other desires.
The sea anemone girl looked up at him and smiled.
“Babies,” she said. “I want you to give me lots of babies.”
Her hand lightly pumped his cock as it swelled up to full erection.
“And after that, you’ll let me go...?” Rob asked in hope.
The girl didn’t answer. She pouted plump lips, leant forwards and pressed them against the bobbing head of his cock. He felt their soft pressure and then felt them give slightly as she opened her mouth. Not enough to admit him, just enough for him to feel her warm breath tickle against his urethral opening.
Then a strange prickling sensation. It felt like pins and needles, but lighter—gentler—more like a whispering crackle of static tickling all over the exposed helmet of his cock. It was followed by an odd sensation, as if some substance was seeping under his skin. He thought she was going to blow him and part of him was disappointed when she withdrew her soft lips after giving a delicate little kiss to only the tip of his cock.
“Did you feel it?” the girl whispered. “The gentle pricks as my little venom cells injected their poison?”
Rob felt something, but it didn’t feel like poison. It was like the opposite of numbness—a tingling warmth spreading increased sensitivity across the whole of his glans. Blood surged to his groin, and his manhood, engorged and swollen, bucked like a wild stallion—out of control and running wild.
“I give my prey pleasures they can only dream of,” the girl said.
Rob felt so horny. Her kiss, the suffocating perfume of sex saturating the air around him—he was finding it hard to think clearly.
Crooning with desire, the girl hugged his lower body. She rubbed the soft bulges of her breasts up his thigh and pressed them against his groin.
“My breasts are just like my lips,” she breathed. “Would you like to feel them?”
Rob did, but he knew it was wrong. She wasn’t human. She was some kind of monster—a giant sea anemone with the upper body of a sexy woman.
The girl didn’t wait for an answer. She pressed her breasts together, sandwiching his cock between two big soft, fleshy pillows. He shivered in pleasure as he felt that strange prickling sensation all along the full length of his shaft, and more importantly the pleasant heightened sensitivity that followed.
“Like that?” the girl asked in a breathy sigh. “Let me sting you some more.”
She rolled a tongue around her luscious lips as she stared up into his eyes. She squeezed her tits together around him and he felt a second wave of prickling pleasure. Rob shuddered involuntarily. He closed his eyes and a squeaky little gasp escaped his throat. His erection twitched and bucked. He felt as hard as the first time he’d figured out how to find porn on the internet. Harder.
“Sting all the fight out of you,” she breathed into his abdomen.
She leaned forwards and kissed him lightly on his exposed belly. Her lips left behind a lipstick stain of tingly pleasant warmth. The soft flesh wrapped around his lower legs was in motion again. Her lower body, the sea anemone part, pulsed slowly and peristaltic contraction pulled him deeper into a warm elastic bag. The plump lips lining the fleshy orifice reached up to draw in first his thighs and then his hips. He felt cushioned bands of muscle contract around his legs. As he was pulled lower the girl’s lips moved higher up his body, leaving behind a trail of tingling kisses. He felt a weight settle on each shoulder and realized it was her legs—far more flexible than a human’s and bent in a way that should not be possible. They pressed down, helping him into the gulping maw at the center of her body.
Rob watched and felt it happen through a thick, comfortable fog. Like it was nothing more than a weird erotic dream.
She gently kissed his nipple and tickled the nub with a moist tongue. Her lips left behind a tingling warm ring of pleasure. Lascivious tentacles turned inwards and rubbed against his body in lewd caresses.
“Time to gobble you up.”
The fleshy base of her body swayed and pulsed. Rob slid around inside a moist elastic cavity as bands of muscle squeezed and manipulated him. His erection pressed up against an indentation that gave and drew his entire length into a warm tunnel lined with a thick layer of flesh as soft as the most luxurious of cushions. Muscles squeezed and he felt peristaltic suction ripple up his engulfed member.
His gasp of bliss was caught by her mouth as she wrapped her luscious lips around his in a kiss. Again he felt that strange prickling pleasure, like microscopic needles were injecting an aphrodisiac drug into his lips, causing them to swell and magnify the pleasure he felt a hundredfold. He felt the same sensation across his chest as she pressed her soft boobs against him. His body went slack and she held him in her arms as the stub of her sea anemone body swelled and gulped more of him down into the fleshy sac within her.
She pulled back as the thick cushion of flesh lining the orifice at the center of her body stretched over his shoulders and then contracted to form a collar around his neck. Rob felt strangely relaxed, as if he was wallowing in pleasure. Her warmth and softness enveloped him completely.
“All caught now,” the girl said. “Time to suck out your baby juice.”
Her lower body swelled and he felt a rippling pull on his cock that travelled down his shaft until he felt it in his balls. His penis was buried in a fleshy cuff that squeezed and tugged and took him to peaks of pleasure he hadn’t known existed. The sea anemone girl’s black eyes shone in triumph as she lay back on a round fleshy stump that resembled a bed. She rocked and swayed with the pulsing motions as her inner walls massaged and caressed him.
He heard gurgling sounds as warm wet mucus was secreted from her inner walls and rubbed into his naked flesh. More fluids trickled out of the moist lining, forming puddles around his feet. It felt like a luxurious bath. He was sitting in a luxurious hot bath and fucking a gorgeous girl with big round titties.
The girl moaned and her big breasts rocked and swayed with her body as she thrust against him. The fleshy base of her sea anemone lower body swelled and throbbed with greater force and frequency. Rob was rocked back and forth by its motions, but barely noticed as the sensation of his aroused cock plunging in and out of a deliciously juicy vagina overwhelmed everything.
The girl threw back her arms and head and released
an unfettered cry of climax. Rob’s cock sank all the way into the fleshy cuff and was held there as rippling undulations of soft pressure tugged at him... tugged and sucked until a dam broke and a wave of ecstatic pleasure flowed from his balls and he emptied their contents into her quivering flesh.
And that wasn’t the end of it. The sea anemone girl sat up on her elbows and stared at him with eyes like black pebbles. Her upper body rocked with the motions beneath her—slow steady throbs that enveloped Rob’s sex and pumped semen out of him with irresistible pulses. His body convulsed with helpless ecstasy as each pulse triggered another orgasm.
* * * *
The sea anemone girl lay back and relaxed. The human quivered helplessly within her as her venom seized control of his reproduction organs and stimulated them into overdrive. Her body pulsed with slow, rhythmic throbs as she pumped the semen from his body.
Good seed. It would give her many young.
His body empty now, she expanded and drew the rest of him down inside her. Her tissues secreted other fluids and she throbbed and churned as she rubbed them into his flesh.
Seed wasn’t all she needed. She needed meat, to give her children strong bodies. The human would feel no pain. His mind was already gone, burnt out by the pleasures she’d induced in him.
She curled up and folded inwards. To the outside eye she looked no different to any other boulder lying on the sea bed. Even the coastguard retrieving the wreck of Rob’s boat didn’t notice she was there.
After a month of lying dormant she opened out like a flower. Her central cavity gaped and a jet of tiny wriggling motes was expelled up into the water column. They formed a cloud spreading out across the bay, each looking for an inviting spot to settle and grow.
Pussy-Wrapped
“You okay there?” Rich Borchers asked.
“Yeah,” Donald Wenk replied. He lifted his head back into the passenger seat. He’d left a small puddle of sick on the driveway. His stomach still felt greasy.
“Nerves?” Rich asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Yeah,” Donald replied. He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. “Are you really sure this is a good idea?”
“We’ll be fine,” Rich replied. “Nothing to worry about.”
Nothing to worry about, Donald thought. They were about to enter the house of one of the most notorious crime lords in the city. His stomach flipped again and Donald struggled to keep hold of his breakfast. Come on. He had to get on top of this. What kind of impression would it give if he threw up on the gangster’s shoes?
“Nice pad,” Rich commented as they left the car and looked up at the house.
It was a mansion, an extremely posh mansion on the outskirts of city. It could have featured on MTV Cribs.
What were they doing here? They were a pair of college dope dealers. This was so out of their depth.
“Whoever said crime doesn’t pay should come down here and take a tour,” Rich said.
He pushed his fancy white-framed sunglasses up until they rested on his forehead. He looked like a noughties DJ and had a lot of the same impregnable self-confidence.
They walked up a flight of steps to the entrance. The front door was already open and an attractive brunette in a secretary’s outfit greeted them.
“Come in,” she said, her voice rich like chocolate. “Mr. Koontz is expecting you.”
She wore a pair of narrow spectacles that looked more suited to an old school matron than a smoking hot woman with the face and figure of a glamour model. Donald thought she might be deliberately dressing down in the way extremely beautiful women sometimes do in order to be taken more seriously, but that wasn’t borne out in the lascivious little glances she gave them, or the licentious way her hips swayed as she led them through the mansion.
The outfit was a tease, a porn film costume. He doubted she was required to fulfill any actual secretarial duties.
“They say he likes to surround himself with beautiful women,” Rich said, “like he’d rather be Hugh Hefner with his own Playboy mansion.”
They entered a more private part of the mansion. The artwork on the walls changed from tasteful pieces of erotica to darker, more explicit, even pornographic scenes. This wasn’t vanilla porn either; the pictures were sadomasochistic in nature and featured demonic women with horns, wings, tails and cloven hooves consorting with their victims. All very twisted, Donald thought.
They paused to look at one large painting. It depicted Christ on the cross being tortured by three feverishly rendered demon girls. Somehow the artist had managed to do the impossible and make the girls seem at once both enticing and abhorrent.
“Fruity,” Rich commented.
“They also say Koontz is nuttier than a bag of Planters,” Donald said. The décor in this section of the mansion was certainly... eclectic.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Rich said.
The secretary led them into an intimate little waiting room. Seating was provided by a series of plush black leather benches. The walls were hidden behind thick velvet drapes. The only other exit was an opening in the far wall, also obscured behind thick drapes.
“We’ll be okay,” Rich said, more to pump himself up as he looked at the curtained-off entrance. “We’ve got a good proposition. He’s going to go for it. How else would he be able to get near those preppy faggots?”
“Take your clothes off,” the secretary said. “Mr. Koontz will see you in the main chamber.”
“Huh?” Rich said. “Did you just ask us to take our clothes off?”
The secretary smiled, showing a row of flawless white teeth.
“Yes,” she answered. “Mr. Koontz insists all business negotiations be carried out naked.”
She said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
The effect on Rich was immediate. He was knocked right off his stride, like a marathon runner hit in the guts by a baseball bat with the finishing line in sight. The progression from surprise to doubt was clear on his face as he realized the secretary wasn’t joking.
Perhaps that was the intention.
It was clear to Donald what Rich was thinking. All those stories about Koontz, the ones that painted him as lost it, crazy, the hippy godfather and all the rest, maybe they were true. Maybe it was more than just an act to throw off the authorities. Maybe it was more than harmless eccentricity.
Maybe he was actually... you know... really crazy.
All those doubts bubbled to the surface and floated across Rich’s face.
“Not so fucking sure about this,” Rich said after the secretary had left them. “What do we do?”
Donald unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers.
“I think we do as she says,” he said, moving on to unbutton his shirt.
Donald wasn’t so convinced on the rumors. Koontz ran the west side and had done so for years. A crazy person, or even a soft eccentric, would not be able to do that. Donald could also think of plenty of sensible reasons why a man in Koontz’s position would want strangers to take their clothes off before negotiating with them, and most of those had nothing to do with eccentricity.
“There might be more to this than lunacy,” Donald said.
Rich paused to think about it. “Yeah, you could be right. This way no one’s going to sneak a gun in on him unless they hide it up their ass.”
“And it could be a psychological ploy,” Donald said. “Get people naked so they feel vulnerable and exposed.”
He folded up his clothes and put them on the bench.
“You know what I think,” Rich said. “I think there’s a bunch of wiseguys sitting right through there and waiting for us to walk through those curtains so they can laugh their asses off at our lily-white butts.”
He tossed his shirt onto the bench.
“It’s not like we have a choice,” Donald shrugged. “I’d rather they were laughing than pissed at us because we spoilt their fun.”
Rich took off the last of his clothes. H
is nakedness was not new to Donald. A few months back, to celebrate the large deal that had first opened up the possibility of going from occasional recreational users to college suppliers, they’d shared a hooker, spit-roast her between them.
It had been okay. Donald had felt a little uncomfortable fucking a girl with another man in the room. It didn’t help that Rich was hung like the proverbial horse.
He thought it might have been awkward for Rich too, that or Rich had spotted his discomfort. Either way it had been a one-time thing. They hadn’t done it again.
“Ready?” Rich asked, naked apart from the sunglasses sitting on his forehead.
“Nope,” Donald replied, “but it’s not going to get any better.”
They walked through the curtain and down a dark corridor lit with low red lights. Donald’s heart pounded in his chest. His stomach felt like a fried egg sliding around on a greasy pan.
Why was he doing this?
He knew why he was doing this. He wanted to go onto university when he graduated college. That took money. His parents didn’t have it and a succession of McJobs wasn’t going to get it. That left selling drugs to the spoilt brats who surfed through life on the back of Daddy’s credit card.
It was fine so long as you didn’t think too hard about the morality of it.
It was fine so long as you didn’t keep running out of product because the only people you could get the product off were unreliable stoners with brains rotted to mush.
Being here was a risk. He knew that. He also knew to make the big money you had to take risks. It was like playing poker. You couldn’t win the big pot if you weren’t prepared to push your chips out into the middle.
Donald took a deep breath, steadied himself, and then followed Rich through the door at the end of the corridor.
The room beyond was large and lavish. It was quite possibly the most opulent room Donald had ever seen in his life, and that included anything on either the small or big screen. It was like walking straight into the Arabian Nights, or maybe the last decadent days of the Roman Empire. Gauzy swirls of brightly colored silk hung from the ceiling and walls. Plush cushions lay scattered across overstuffed chairs and a large black sofa. There was even a luxurious bed in one corner of the room. It was circular in shape and large enough for a full orgy. The room was only marginally better lit than the corridor preceding it. Low lights bathed everything in a soft, intimate glow.