Thursday, March 31, 2011

Just A Little Scene: The Bet

It was a simple bet. Try and stay standing for thirty minutes while I played with your penis. Simple enough, sure. A strapping hunk of a man like you, you’d gotten handjobs and blowjobs galore, you’d fucked in every conceivable position your body would allow, and always maintained perfect control of yourself, and your partner. When I told you I could fuck you blind with just a thought, you scoffed. You didn’t think my magic could possibly be any more potent than what you’d had up to now.

So, we made the bet. I play with you with my magic. You try and stay standing for thirty minutes. If you won, you were allowed to strip me naked and do anything you wanted to me, and I would not be allowed to stop you, even with my powers. If I won, I would be able to play with you as I saw fit for the rest of the night. You grinned like a idiot, and promptly agreed.

We went back to my place. You were naked in a flash, but to your disappointment, I stayed clothed. Even more to your disappointment, I went to the couch, clicked on the TV, and settled in to watch a show, flipping channels until I found something liked.

“Hey, come on, are we gunna do this or what?” you said. Your penis

I gave you a bored, nonchalant smile. “I was giving you a chance to brace yourself, but if you insist.” I waved my hand and instantly, you felt warm, wet, tight sensations grip your cock. At the same time, a throbbing pulse of pure pleasure began to surge rhythmically through your loins, traveling from your penishead down straight through to your prostate.

It’s now been ten minutes, and your body is shuddering as you let out lewd moans between every gasp. The pulse is intense, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, as if your every pleasure receptor were being caressed and energized from the inside out. It’s enough to make your whole body spasm with every pulse. Not even the most skilled mouth, hand, or pussy combined has ever felt this intense, this pure. It’s just too much. You collapse onto your knees.

“Well, that was disappointing,” I say, without much enthusiasm.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, barely able to draw breath. “Oh, god, you win, you win!” Your body shudders again and stiffens and you let out a primal grunt. Your self control has broken, and your cock jerks mightily. You are beginning to have an orgasm.

I smile as I reach out with my power and grasp the surge of energy that is your climax. Just as it is about to leave your body, I catch it. Your body locks up and you can’t even draw breath as you are suddenly caught on the very edge of orgasm. I hold you there, my grip on your climax unyielding no matter how hard your body tries to force it. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. A minute. Two. Tears stream from your eyes, and you breathlessly make a low sound between a groan and scream.

I then shove your orgasm back, denying you that release. Able to breath again, you let out a pitiful wail. I intensify the pulse in your cock, and immediately, your body tries to cum again. But I don’t let it. I catch your second would be climax, and pull it back, mixing it with the first. I increase the sensations yet again, and for a third time you try to cum. I catch that climax as well and pull it back, dragging it slowly to make sure you feel your release being denied to you.

You’re fully on the floor now, writhing and thrashing like a fish out of water. You can’t even form a coherent thought to make the words you want to beg me. I watch you with a cool bemusement as you make another attempt to cum. And another, and another and another. Each time I catch your would be orgasm at the moment just before release, and pull it back, combining it with the growing ball of climax I keep roiling inside you.

Then, all at once I cease the sensations, dropping the pulse and warm wetness from your cock. You collapse back, barely cognizant, exhausted. I cast a touch of magic over you to let you fall asleep. I think pull the ball of climax from you, and ethereal mass invisible to the eye, but tangible to the touch. I slowly strip naked, and then lay back on the couch, pulling the mass towards me. I let the energy of your stolen climaxes sink into me. My body instantly fills with throbbing pleasure, my sex instantly flowing with wetness.

I cum, long and hard, your every would be orgasm ripping through my body like sexual lightning, a torrent of climaxes rapid firing through my system, joining into one continuous release. I scream and thrash as my world goes white. I manage to hang on through three full minutes of mind-rending orgasm before I black out from the intensity.

I come to on the floor next to you a few minutes later, soaked in cooling sweat and fluids. I look to you, your cock still hard and twitching, still so eager to fulfill its objective, too proud to acknowledge that it has already failed tonight.

You’re so proud of it, aren’t you? So big and hard, your symbol of power and manliness? It’s the center of your universe, really, whether you realize it or not. In some form or another, your penis is what defines you. It makes you strong, gives you the drive to be a man among men. In your mind, in your fantasies, it is the tool which allows you to bend women to your will, in service to your mighty penis.

Ridiculous. Don’t get me wrong, a woman does thoroughly enjoy a good cock. But while a man’s penis is everything to him, for a woman, the penis is just one toy among many to play with. Once a woman gets it within her grasp, all your power and swagger, all your cunning and charisma, melts into a puddle of goo with a simple caress. You think your crude, thuggish organ is a bait to lure women into your clutches, but I assure you, it’s quite the other way around. There’s a reason a word for foolish overconfidence is “cock”iness.

I reach over and for the first time, physically touch your cock. You jolt awake, letting out a quaky groan as your body shudders. You look to me with awe and a tinge of fear as your mind sluggishly pieces together what just happened. I smile slyly at you, and slide myself up to straddle your chest. You lost the bet, and the night is still young. Your stolen orgasms were a nice little appetizer, but I’m ready for the main course.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Vampress Threesome

Normally, one would not expect to be accosted by vampires at the book store, but there you go. Even vampires like to peruse some quality literature now and then.

Well, some of them anyway.

“Some girls night out,” said Siobhan. “When you said you wanted to shop, I was thinking more Macy’s or JC Pennies, not Barnes and Noble.”

“We’ll go buy you something shiny in a bit,” said Aislinn, with a look of practiced patience. “I want to see if the next book in one of my series is out yet.”

“Oh, fine,” said Siobhan, pouting a bit, but going along.

As the two entered the book store, Siobhan quickly scoped out the customers for want of something better to do. Most were not to her taste. Still, as she followed Aislinn to the Fantasy section, smirking at seeing the sheer number of vampire novels on display, she caught sight of one young man, sitting alone on one of the store’s stuffed chairs, reading a comic book. Siobhan chewed her lip a bit, but decided he wasn’t too bad looking for a geek, a little thin, but healthy looking. She nudged Aislinn’s arm as the redhead sifted through the paperbacks. “Hey,” said Siobhan. “Cute one at your five.”

Aislinn sighed. “I wasn’t aware we were hunting already.”

“When aren’t we hunting?”

Aislinn frowned a bit. “Just doesn’t seem to be the right place for it.”

“Oh, sod you and your books. I found a ripe one. Looks like easy pickings for you.”

Aislinn glanced over and noticed the young man, who remained oblivious of them. She thought for a moment. “Well, he is cute.”

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Kat's First Boytoy

Note: This story takes place in the World of Civero.

My name is Kat, and I am an esper, a person with psychic powers. Growing up, I had always used my abilities sparingly, taught never to abuse them. However, by the time I hit High School, curiosity compelled me to test and flex my powers; I developed abilities of mind reading, mind control, and some minor illusion casting. I tried to follow my parents’ advice, but when you have such powers, you can’t help but play around with them a bit. Still, I was a “good girl” for quite a while; it was not until college that I decided to really get my money’s worth out of these abilities. What can I say? I was young, horny, and surrounded by similarly young and horny men and women whose lustful thoughts and drives could only be ignored for so long. I decided to finally do something I’d always fantasized about, but never dared to do, even in the hormone-drenched world of High School. I decided to use my psychic powers to fetch myself a boytoy lover.

I first met my boytoy Ben in Creative Writing. I thought he was rather cute, a tall blue-eyed redhead. He was quite creative, sharing stories of fantasy and adventure with the class. He was also shy and had a huge crush on me. Tall, with black hair, green eyes, and a fit body, I was exactly his type. I could feel his eyes, and his thoughts, draw towards me within minutes of our first class together. I smiled, and wondered if he might ask me out. He never did, though, and soon enough, I found myself too busy with school work to really think about dating.

However, halfway into the semester, I could still feel him gazing at me, apparently content to continue admiring me in silence. I would have been flattered, but for a distinct sense of lust radiating off him, getting stronger as the weeks went by. He clearly had a hard-on for me. I wondered why he didn’t just come up and ask me. Was he really that shy?

I decided to investigate this a little further. I figured if he was going to have naughty thoughts about me and not do anything for me in return, I may as well enjoy the show. Peaking inside his head, I discovered a very naughty fantasy indeed. It was rather surreal. He was imagining some sort of elaborate story wherein he was an adventurer captured by a witch, played by me. In the fantasy, I was intent on getting some sort of information out of him, but rather than torture him or use some kind of mind control spell, I was casting spells on his penis, driving him mad with pleasure. As he tried to refuse giving in, “I” would do anything from suck him to fuck him to stroke him to just letting my magic surge through his organ, driving him wild. It became evident that there was no information for him to give, and that “I” was just playing with him for amusement.

I found this fantasy extremely amusing, not to mention very arousing. This was exactly the sort of thing that I had fantasized about doing to someone (minus the witch get-up of course), but never dared to actually try. I decided to plumb deeper into his mind, and saw many similar fantasies. The details might be different, he might be a supervillain, and I a superhero trying to “convince” him to change his wicked ways; I might be a vampire and he a common villager who I wished to turn; he might be a hunter and I a fairy who had decided to capture him and teach him a “lesson” about respecting nature. Heck, some fantasies were even quite mundane, just the two of us in his bedroom, me stroking him slowly as I whispered teasingly in his ear. Always him helpless, totally at my mercy, as I took him to heights of pleasure he could only imagine. The more I looked, the more aroused I became.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Just A Little Scene: Dream Therapy

At the Tlazol Facility for Male Submission, men who could not accept that women now dominated the world with their incredible powers were put through a rigorous amount of relentless “conditioning” until they finally changed their ways, and fully, truly accepted the women’s superiority. Groups of men were sexually teased on a daily basis without orgasm, and lectured of the error of their ways and thinking, until finally something cracked, and they gave in, where upon release was granted, and the next stage of their “education” could be reached. Until then, however, even sleep was not a refuge for these men. For groups that proved particularly stubborn, the Sex Mages decided to induce what they liked to call “Dream Therapy.”

Miss Cale was on Dream Therapy duties for her group tonight, something she didn’t often get assigned to, but which she quite enjoyed. It let her be quite creative. As she walked through the large, bed-lined room where her “students” slept, she smiled. Even asleep, their penises remained hard, their balls swollen tight. Sleep, in fact, did not come easy for them, and it took almost total exhaustion for them to ignore their body’s maddening sexual cravings enough to fall into what should have been blissful unconsciousness. But once they went under, Miss Cale set their minds to stay that way no matter what for the next 10 hours. She manipulated them to remain perfectly still, facing upwards, so that they could not squirm and rub their penises against their mattresses, nor would they accidentally fall off the beds.

She went to each boy in turn, looking into their minds, glimpsing their fetishes and fantasies. When she found a situation that created a particularly hot spark for the boy, she molded their random, chaotic dreams into a vivid erotic fantasy from which they could not escape until they were woken up in the morning.

First there was Mark, age 23, last orgasm 4 months ago. Her glimpse into his mind showed Mark had a powerful foot fetish. His first realization of this was when he had seen his sister painting her toe nails, and had suddenly gotten a hard-on. He’d never quite gotten over the humiliation, and had sworn to himself he would never let a woman take him off guard like that again. Oh, poor Mark. Miss Cale molded his dream into a situation where he was in his sister’s room, in her closet, watching her paint her toe nails. Mark was masturbating as he watched, and just before he could cum, he let out a loud grunt. His sister jerked her head over and immediately jumped up and whipped the door open. Mark, humiliated, but still ragingly hard, immediately begged his sisters forgiveness. She agreed not tell on their parents, if he let her tie him to the bed. The rest of the dream consisted of the sister sitting on the bed with a bound Mark, alternately pressing her feet against his face as she stroked him, or giving him footjobs just to the point of orgasm before backing off, then masturbating herself to orgasm. Mark was helpless as his sister tormented and taunted him with her feet, over and over.

Miss Cale withdrew from Mark, whose body had gone stiff. His nostrils flared, reacting to the presence of the dream feet on his face. Mark’s dream would continue unabated until he awoke, as would all the boys’ dreams.

Next was Jake, age 30, last orgasm 5 weeks ago. Jake’s dream was interesting. He had a fantasy of being shrunk, and played with by giant women. Miss Cale called up a fantasy of his ex-wife and her friend (whom he had cheated with). The two women were sitting cross legged on the bed in Jake’s old house, a six-inch tall Jake running around between them. Jake, naked and hard, the two women laughed, poking at him to make him run, giggling as his tiny penis flopped. Then, Jake’s ex picked him up with one hand, and masturbated herself a bit with the other, moistening her pussy lips. She then lowered Jake to her pussy and pushed him inside her, slipping the helpless man all the way in. Jake, trapped in a crushing, hot, wet vice, wriggled to try and free himself, but this merely seemed to please his ex, who stretched out on the bed and moaned, hips squirming. Jake’s attempts to escape dissolved into frantic humping against her walls as his cock rubbed incessantly against her. His desperate attempts to reach an orgasm that would never be thrilled his ex, who writhed and screamed in ecstasy, her pussy squeezing him rhythmically, which just teased him even more. Eventually, once his writhing would please her to the point of orgasm, after which she would fish Jake out, and the other woman would take him inside her.

The next boy was Hank, age 19, last orgasm 3 months ago. Hank had always had an unusual fascination with truly fantastic women. He often fantasized about things like nagas (half-women/half-snake), mermaids, elves, female angels, etc. In his mind, these were so much more arousing than ordinary women, something which many women found bizarre and sometimes even insulting. But Miss Cale found it quite amusing, and she had a special dream for him. She placed Hank in a complex and seemingly endless Labyrinth, which he was driven to try and find an exit for. Prowling this Labyrinth were many of the fantastical women he fantasized about, searching for a helpless, naked, and horny as hell male to have their way with. In this dream, Miss Cale gave Hank the notion that if he could find the center of the maze, he might be granted orgasm. This hope was all he needed to spur him into searching. This of course, only continued to bring him into the clutches of the creature women, who would use his permanent, unclimaxing penis for their pleasure, heedless of how they drove him insane with sex.

Most of the rest were fairly mundane by comparison. One imagined he was a male stripper, who had to let the women come up on stage and play with him. Another dreamed he was back in college, and as part of an initiation, was tied spread eagle to stakes on the front lawn of a sorority, where the girls took their turns idly stroking him between sun-tanning sessions. Another dreamed a threesome with two of his favorite movie actresses as they teased and edged him while making him eat them out.

Eventually, all 14 young men were twitching and moaning in their sleep, their penises bouncing excitedly, trapped in dreams so vivid, their minds could barely handle it. Miss Cale then departed, leaving the boys to their dreams. They might wake up with refreshed bodies and minds, but they would do so feeling even hornier and more frustrated than when they went to bed. And when they did, Miss Cale would be there to greet them.