Radley's Home for Horny Monsters

by Annabelle Hawthorne

  The physical abuse was immediate, but the verbal abuse continued. Whenever he got aroused in his sleep, his mother would slap him awake, or call others in to make fun of him. Often, this led to a sudden change in address, as most normal people recognized her behavior as appalling. Her constant teasing in front of anyone who would listen had led him to a largely celibate lifestyle. The few women he had been with had been unsympathetic to his sexual panic attacks, or his mommy issues, as one had called them. Now, in an unfamiliar setting, he found those old emotions resurfacing, attempting to claw away at the protective shell he had put around himself.

  His imagination was his own worst enemy. Picturing her specter hiding in the shadows, waiting to pass judgment, had simply clinched the deal. Now, though, with all of the lights on, she couldn’t afford to surface. His panic attack subsiding, he picked up his food and made his way to the kitchen.

  Mike consumed his meal while streaming a movie on his computer, leaving the last five slices for tomorrow. The fridge looked painfully bare, occupied only by a sole pizza box and a soda bottle. Mike returned to the table, watching for another half an hour as the generic action star did something to confound the villain. His mind kept flipping back and forth to the feel of the pizza girl’s breast and his mother’s demonic memory.

  He pulled out his phone and flipped down to Dr. Gorman in his contacts. He hadn’t sat with his therapist in over three years, but the urge to reach out had surfaced. Hands shaking, his thumb hovered over the call button.

  “Fuck it.” He closed his contact list. His mother was dead, the past was the past, and he needed to get over it. Years of being told in therapy that arousal was natural, that everybody did it, that it was okay to fantasize. He closed his eyes, recalling the cute appearance of Dana the pizza girl. He unleashed the memory of her scent, the feel of her breast, the surprised expression she had made when he had tipped her eight bucks extra. It was probably the same face she made during her first orgasm, or perhaps when her lover’s lips first touched the nipples of her firm breast...

  That did it. His body was back in full swing, he was back in control. Well, almost. The urge to watch porn to help get off was strong, but Dr. Gorman had reminded him that porn could be too much of an escapist fantasy. It was better for him to visualize on his own; he was less likely to panic in bed with a real woman. However, porn wasn’t so much the issue, but rather location.

  He was in a stranger’s house with a major hard on. Technically, he could jerk off in the hallway for all anybody cared, but just because the house was now his didn’t mean it was home. It definitely didn’t feel safe.

  Mike closed his computer and proceeded up to the bedroom. He could take care of his needs in there. That wasn’t much different than a hotel room, or new apartment, really. The more he told himself these things, the more he was ready to get off.

  Stepping into the room, he took one look at the bed and shuddered. Beds were sometimes just as bad, and today was no different.

  “Why am I so fucking damaged?” he shouted to the walls. They had no answer for him. Instead, he stormed into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, then splashed cool water on his face. Staring in the mirror, he watched the cool drops fall down his cheeks, his eyes suddenly on the giant bathtub.

  The bathroom’s contoured walls prevented anyone in the tub from seeing anything but the bathroom. Remembering how well he fit in it earlier, and seeing how isolated it was, he knew it would work.

  Turning on the water, he watched as the basin filled quite quickly. Obviously, his great aunt had found a way to trick out the water pressure. Beth had told him that they paid a cleaning service to turn everything over, which meant that dry towels were already hanging near the tub. He stripped down in the bedroom, then threw his clothes on the nearby dresser.

  Walking into the bathroom, he caught sight of his own naked figure in the mirror. He was lean (he really didn’t eat too much), and marred with massive scars on the right. They went all the way from his thigh to under his armpit, crossing chaotically. They were a reminder of the fatal accident that had taken his mother, one final mark for her to leave behind. One girlfriend had told him they made him look like a badass, but he couldn’t be certain she wasn’t just saying that to make him feel better.

  Mike thumbed through the playlist on his phone and found one he liked. The water was just right, and he carefully slid into the tub. The whole inner surface had a texture that helped prevent him from slipping. He soaked a nearby washrag in hot water then placed it across his eyes and forehead. Drowning out the world with water and music, he let his hands explore.

  One hand slid across the head of his penis while the other one tugged gently at the skin beneath the head. He let both hands slide down the shaft with plenty of room to spare between them. A former girlfriend had once told him (upon breaking up) that a dick like his was a waste, because no girl ever got to use it.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. He only found the courage to do this once every few weeks, which meant he was always extra sensitive. He ran his thumb gently over the head, flinching at the sudden intrusion of pleasure. He pictured the delivery girl in his mind, running his fingers down and across her slender hips, hearing her moan as he leaned in to suck on her neck. In his mind, he slid his hands underneath her shirt to play with her nipples, letting go to watch her kiss her way down the length of his body until she took him in her mouth.

  The mind was a tricky thing. Mike let his brain rewind. This time, she was in a hurry, but she desperately needed to get fucked. Yanking her pants down, he took her roughly from behind, her soaking pussy squeezing hard on his dick. His brain tossed and turned over both possibilities, allowing him the luxury of both fantasies.

  Grabbing the root of his cock, he squeezed hard. The the pressure slowly built inside, and his fantasies took hold as a warm mouth engulfed his cock, sucking it in hard.

  Surprised, Mike opened his eyes to see a woman beneath the water’s surface, her hands pinned to his hips, her head bobbing up and down slowly on his dick. Her hair was light blue, the color of sapphires, and she appeared as if a ghost, the light of the room passing through her body. Confused, he withdrew a hand from the water and pinched his own cheek.

  “Urgh!” That had hurt! He grabbed the side of the tub with one hand and fought to pull free. The woman beneath the water bobbed her head frantically, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock as she pulled him farther into the back of her throat. Gasping for air, Mike tried to slide away from her, this strange specter, but she clamped her hands against his ass and pulled his cock in as deep as it would go.

  He had been too close to the edge already. Letting out a moan, Mike gripped the sides of the tub, his cock spurting out rope after rope of cum. Through her translucent body, he saw that his cum was filling her throat and traveling down to her stomach with each swallow. He gave up the struggle, the fight leaving him as her body became more solid. She continued to suck, and he grew lightheaded until he went limp, her tongue rolling hungrily across the head of his dick.

  “What...the fuck?” The woman beneath the water was busy stroking his balls. He grabbed her by the hair, pulling her free of the water. She broke the surface, her mouth wide, water and semen dripping down her chin. She had thin slits along the side of her neck, slits that closed and vanished in the air.

  “More,” she rasped, her blue eyes unfocused. “I need more.” Already she was beginning to fade, the faucet behind her becoming visible through her body. “Please.”

  He stared, uncertain what special kind of stroke he was suffering from. He could see the white line of semen just inside her throat, trickling downward toward her stomach with every swallow.

  Her eyes finally focused on his, her body snapping back into reality. She teased his limp cock with her fingers.

  “Please,” she begged, her face lowering toward the water. “I need it.”

  “I don’t understand. Who are you?” he asked, touching her cool skin. “What are you?”


  “Later,” she whispered, her fingers touching the bath water. The liquid came alive, squeezing rhythmically up and down his legs. It swirled around his cock, tugging it like a thousand tiny hands, massaging blood back into it. Her eyes on his, he felt one of her fingers slide effortlessly up his ass.

  He was immediately rock hard.

  “Take me,” she gasped, pulling him deeper into the tub and wrapping long legs around his waist. “Finish the spell.”

  “What spell?” he asked, her lips finding his. Her tongue split his lips, and his dick slid into her, her body pulsing in time with his own heart.

  “Fuuuuck!” He moaned, pulling his mouth away from hers. She rode him frantically, her whole body blinking in and out of existence as she forced her hips against his. Water splashed over the edge of the tub, soaking the cool marble as she let out a scream, her face and breasts flushed as she continued to grind against him.

  “I-I-I...” he said, his balls contracting. She pushed against him, hard, as he blew his load again. The water in the tub exploded upward, the lights above flickering as the electricity in the house surged.

  The room descended into darkness, and he felt consciousness slip away.

  MIKE OPENED HIS EYES. He was in the tub, the rag over his face. Pulling it off, he sat up, splashing water over the side.

  “What the fuck?” He looked around the room, but saw no sign of the mysterious woman. The bath water was still warm. Had he fallen asleep?

  He stood slowly, staring down into the tub with a mixture of relief and regret. It had to have been a dream, he thought, staring at his reflection in the mirror. A hot fucking dream.

  Sighing, he stepped out of the bath onto the plush bathmat. A mystery woman who had ridden him senseless. He let out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. He never had sex dreams, and couldn’t remember the last wet dream he’d had. Looking back in the bath, he expected to see a giant glob of semen floating somewhere in the water.

  That was strange. He swirled the water. He could have sworn he had come. A dream couldn’t fake that sensation... could it? He gave his dick a light stroke, and sure enough, it rose to the occasion.

  “Just a dream,” he muttered, crawling back into the bath. It was still plenty warm, and there was no way he could get so hard again after coming twice. May as well take advantage, he figured, sitting down in the tub. He gave himself a few light strokes, pulling on the base of his balls, picturing the girl from his dreams.

  The water rippled with his movements, and suddenly she was there, as if stepping through a mirror. Mouth agape, he stared as she stood up before him, the water dripping down from her full breasts. Her hair was a deep blue, far richer than the color it had been before. Thin horizontal lines that looked like tattoos were etched down her ribs, and the lips of her vagina were thick and long, dribbling a fluid of their own.

  “Again?” she asked, kneeling in the water. “Let me help you.” She licked her lips, taking hold of his dick at the base.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Mike cried, pulling away. She stared at him patiently as he tried to climb out of the bath. Tendrils of water circled his legs, pulling him back in so that the two of them were face to face.

  “My name is Naia,” she cooed, touching his lips with her finger. “And you just saved my life.”

  A Swing and a Miss

  “Whoa!” Mike splashed water everywhere in his haste to get out of the tub. This time, Naia didn’t fight him as he scrambled out into the bathroom, covering up with a towel. She pouted as he slid across the floor, looking for his pants while keeping an eye on her. Seeing that she hadn’t moved from her spot in the tub, Mike’s heart rate leveled out, the burst of adrenaline gone.

  “Who...what are you?” he asked, trying to keep his eyes off of her breasts. Other than the strange markings on her ribs, her skin was flawless. He felt the fabric of his pants against his toes, and he knelt to gran them.

  “I am Naia.” She smirked. “Though I suspect we are past names at this point, Mike. I am full of your cum, after all.”

  “So it wasn’t a dream.” Mike slid his pants on, the fabric catching on his wet skin. “That still doesn’t tell me anything else. For instance, how you got here.” He had been alone in the tub, and she had appeared from beneath the water.

  “I’ve been here for quite some time.” She swished the water with her hand. “If you don’t mind,” she waved her hand and the spigot came on.. It filled even faster this time, until another wave of her hand turned it off. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a hot soak.”

  “What do you mean, quite some time?” Mike crossed his arms. “You’re lucky I don’t just call the cops.”

  “You won’t do that.” She pulled a handful of water over her breasts and let it run free. “We are linked now. You are struggling with what you saw, but accept that it happened and want to know more. You are also afraid that you are suffering a psychotic break which will only be confirmed when the cops arrive and find nothing but a tub full of water.”

  Mike stared at her, mouth open. “You can read my mind?”

  Naia laughed, a beautiful sound that echoed off the tiles. “Not quite. Just general stuff. I would far rather have this conversation here in the water, by the way.”

  “You practically raped me,” Mike told her. “If I get back in there, I assume you are going to try again.”

  “I hardly raped you.” Naia narrowed her eyes, an intense frown crossing her face. “You were the one jacking off in my tub. I did what I did out of self-preservation, by the way, and I happen to know that you enjoyed it.”

  Mike sighed. Being angry was getting him nowhere, and he had to admit that she had a point. “Okay, give me a second to calm down. If you can read my mind, you should know that this is a little much for me right now.” He walked toward the tub, staring warily at its edge. “If I sit, do you promise not to pull me in or anything?”

  “Yes.” She moved away from the edge, allowing him a better look at her body through the water. God, she was gorgeous.

  “Let’s back things up a bit. Fill in the gaps for me. Let’s start with who and what you are.”

  “I’m Naia.” She ran her hands across her body. “This is what I am. I am a nymph.”

  “A nymph?” The gears in his brain spun. He had only heard the word used in nymphomaniac. “Can you elaborate?”

  “I am a water spirit.” She stirred the water with one finger, summoning a floating sphere. “My spring was dammed up a century ago. Luckily, the water was diverted through the fountain in the yard, and eventually pipes were installed to allow spring water to come up through the pipes to this tub so that I could come inside.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “I think you know.” Naia winked at him. “Nymphs are sexual by nature. The person who built this house did it to protect me, and he and I had quite the life here. It was too cold in the winter to fuck outside, so this was a pretty good compromise.”

  “What do you need protecting from?”

  “My spring was going to be destroyed. If it ever stops flowing, either it forms somewhere else or I die. Which I was quite close to doing, I might add.”

  “Really?”

  Naia nodded. “When your Great Aunt Emily died, the house went unused for a really long time. The fountain became clogged, and the fixtures in the house never flowed. There’s a slight trickle in the fountain, but minerals are backing it up. When you turned on the bath, it gave me just enough energy to manifest.”

  “Wow.” Mike watched the tiny sphere of water float above the tub. It occasionally touched down on the water’s surface, then bounced back into the air.

  “Yes. But I needed more. Nymphs can channel sexual energy into magic, but we try not to because it causes links between our lovers. That’s why some of us drown our sexual partners.”

  “There are more of you?”

  Naia nodded. “There used to be. Modern civilization has not been very kind to my race.”

&n
bsp; “Tell me more about our link.”

  Naia blushed. “The first spell was to help unclog the fountain. It was minor, but if you were to die, I could make it through another winter.”

  “If I were to die?”

  “While I was taking in your essence, I looked into your soul. If I hadn’t liked what I saw, I would have drowned you. Don’t take it personally.”

  Holy shit. “If you got what you wanted, then why the second spell?”

  “When I looked inside you, I found a man who grew up without a home, one who needed a family who could love him for who he is. The second spell was selfish on my part, but we will both see the benefit.”

  “What does it do?” he asked.

  “I swapped a small part of your soul with mine,” she admitted, then bit her lower lip. “That way, you and I would be forever linked, and you would be more likely to stay here.”

  “PART OF MY WHAT?” Mike stood, balling his fists. “You took part of my soul?!?”

  “Swapped. No taking, an even exchange.” She stood up, water trailing from her body. “It’s like a gift, but magic always needs an equivalent exchange. By taking part of your soul, you and I are forever connected. By taking part of my soul, you have been given certain gifts.”

  “You can’t just take...“ the watery orb now had a twin, and tiny lights sparkled within, relaxing him. “So, what, I go to Hell now or something?”

  “Silly man.” Naia splashed the water at him playfully. “This isn’t some demonic pact or anything. When you die, your soul goes with you and the piece I gave you comes back to me. So relax. As long as I don’t terminate the spell early, our continued existence benefits each other.”

  Mike sighed, rubbing his head. This was too much. “Okay, so tell me about these benefits.”

  “Traditionally, precognition, mind reading, things like that. However, those have fallen out of vogue, as the last thing we want is for you to call attention to yourself, or this house. Instead, you will find yourself far more charming than usual, a natural beauty of sorts. Heightened sensitivity of your senses and just enough of those earlier abilities to keep you out of danger. Oh, and a gift more for me.” She leaned forward, pressing her breasts together. Mike’s crotch twitched in his pants. “You no longer have much of a refractory period. I figured that’s a fair trade for not being able to win the lottery.”