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June 08 Amorous Goods: Mannequin & Cameo Pendant
Amorous Goods:
Mannequin.
Toying around with
a mannequin, yields him unwanted desire.
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
"What
were you doing, I've been looking for you, Dylan," Vikki demanded.
"I
was just taking care of something, that's all."
"Wanking
it again? If you got time to wank it, you got time to do work at work; that's
productive to the whole business, not just for you," she griped.
"I
was not masturbating, I was looking at a few leads on some things. What kinda
guy you think I am," he waved his arms around.
"A
sexually frustrated guy, who's turned to porn."
"Look;
it's been slow all day, pretty much anything that can be done in the store has
been. The only thing I could do, is wash the step van."
"Find
anything online or our usual contacts?"
"No."
"Then
wash the van," she walks off.
"You
wash the van." He yells after her.
With
a grimace he struts outside, grabbing car care products from the garage,
retrieving the hose, looking at a basement window, muttering; "soon
sweetheart, I'll be back," before dragging it across the backyard to where
the step van sits, grabbing a ladder, hosing off the roof, the rest of the van,
before soaping it down, taking a mop to the roof and elsewhere, spraying it
off. Satisfied at the bare bones work, decides it's time for a well-deserved
reward. Walking back inside.
"I'm
coming baby, as quick as I can."
Morgana
returns from a cleansing, uploading the recorded process in her office, taking
a trip down to the basement to check for any activity. She runs in to Dylan
coming down.
"What
are you doing with that old mannequin," she wonders.
"Nothing
why?"
"Why
is it on that bed, Dylan?"
"I
don't know Morgana, maybe it was moving around and laid there."
"Why
are you going to the basement?"
"Doing
a once over, there's nothing else to do, might organize it; ya know; do my
job."
"Stop
messing with that mannequin, at once," she glared.
"I'm
not doing anything with the mannequin, Morgana."
"Heed
my words boy; heed my words," she walked up the steps.
Dylan
rolled his eyes, with a sly grin, going straight for it, running his hands over
its tits, to its crotch. Something catches his eye; the head looks as if it
were turned slightly, watching for his return, mouth slightly open.
"Hmm.
Sweetheart; I don't remember you having an open mouth; well don't worry; I got
something for you to eat. Looks like Morgana cleaned off my spooge. I don't
remember you having a crack between your legs either. Weird."
Dylan
pulls out his phone, finishing the porn Vikki interrupted, looking for him,
pulls out his cock, playing with it.
"Ya
know; this chick looks just like you," he rubs it's thigh.
He
watches the girl in the video being pounded in the rear, face down, ass up, the
guy pulling her arms behind her by the wrist. Sitting the phone on his knee,
switching hands, rubbing the precum in her crotch.
"Too
bad we can't put you in this position," he held the phone to its face.
Stroking
a bit faster, nearly lost in the video, not noticing what little precum soaked
in the crack.
"I'd
better make this quick before they both bust in on me, before I bust. I know we
like to take our time, promise to spend all lunch with you tomorrow."
He
stands, sitting his phone on the torso, rubbing both tit.
"open
wide, baby," he whispers.
Getting
as close as he can, trying to shoot his rope in the slightly open mouth,
hitting in and around his target. Zips his cock away, kissing it on the
forehead, turning for one more look.
"Till
tomorrow, my sweetheart."
Morgana
sneaks down to the basement once the moment is save, seeing the thing dry,
checking for any wet spots or cum-rags. She runs in to Vikki in the kitchen.
"I
think my cousin needs to get laid, I think he's wanking off to that
mannequin," Vikki proposes.
"He
might be. At least he either cleans it off or doesn't; release himself on it
directly. I don't understand why he doesn't simply get a prostitute, if he
can't find a girlfriend."
"Beats
me."
Later
that night, Morgana stayed late to see if she might observe any paranormal
activity before she takes her leave home, she's aware of the two cousins
sleeping patterns up to around five A.M. A slight muffled walking catches her
ears.
"How
many times does that boy need to release himself a day," she mutters to
herself, "messing with that damn mannequin again."
The
footsteps drift around the first floor.
"Maybe
it's Vikki searching for a snack," Morgana smiles, turning back to her
laptop.
Up
the steps, trying not to wake anybody, checking rooms, eye's peer in to
Nikki�s, curious about the sound coming from her mouth. Shutting the door
quietly as possible, moving on. Dylan's door opens, spotting him in his bed
with an uneasy smile, slips inside, shutting it. Walking closer to the bed,
hands drifting around the blanket, searching for a way to remove it. Hands
glide on his legs, gently touching his face, pulling away the blanket. Dylan
moans, rolling on his back. By the light through the windows; flat eyes spot
the goal.
It
silently wretches up fresh cum to its mouth, leaning on the bed, planting a
kiss on his lips, to his sleeping approval, he kisses back. Taking his flaccid
cock in its hand, closing its hollow mouth around it, doing best to suck him
off. "Too hard," he moans when his cock swells around the tight lips,
the mannequin opens wide enough that his shaft softly rubs against its now rubbery
feeling lips, leaking drops of his cum. Inspecting his cock, making sure he's
fully erect, straddles him, kissing him once more, passionately as it can,
stroking his face with a free hand. He moans compliantly, finding it's waist in slumber, working his hands to her chest, its
mouth silently moaning in pleasure, chest being pulled to his mouth, taking in
the faux nipple bumps, the surface gives nearly as well as real skin, pulling
with his teeth, sucking and rubbing.
It
pulls away from his mouth, his grasp follows them. The split between her legs
opens, dripping with his cum, it plants his cock inside, rocking in circular
motions, Dylan's hands make their way to its ass, legs lifting to push deeper
in it, it's legs lock under his, sitting up bouncing, holding, rubbing, and
tugging its own tits and nubs. It stares intently as his moans grow harder and
louder. To the point he starts to wake himself up.
"Oh
fuck; yes baby," he moans opening his eyes, "Oh fuck! Oh shit!"
Wide
awake staring at pursed lips and flat painted eye's, moving to the body
bouncing up and down on his cock. Terrified, trying to push it off, it grips
his shoulders, pushing its chest in to his face to muffle his screams, Dylan
turns his head.
"Ah!
Help; help me! Nikki! Morgana! Yeah!"
The
mannequin tries to kiss him again, he's pushing against its waist being
violently fucked by it.
"Eh!
Nikki!"
Dylan
starts beating on the wall, Vikki runs in his room with a fearful look on her
face, watching the act.
"Is
that...?"
"Yes,
get it off, get it off!"
"Morgana,
are you still here? Morgana." She yells out the door.
Moments
later Morgana rushes up the steps, Dylan's screams of pleasure and fear fills
the room. He breaks its grip, pushing it away.
"Hold
on, I need something to contain it," she takes off.
His
body starts to jerk from the oncoming climax, it looks at Vikki slack jawed
before tossing its head back as if it's having an orgasm, it tries to slide its
arms under his body as it rises and falls with the bouncing of the bed. Vikki
runs over, pulling on an arm, taking it out of the socket, throwing it, when it
reached between her legs, watching it writhe on the floor. Dylan is able to
break its grip again, Morgana returns with rope, just in time to catch him push
it hard enough to separate the torso from the lower half, shoving it to the
floor. It starts to make hollow breathing and rasping noises, trying to get
back on the bed. The lower half rides him faster without the upper half slowing
it down.
"It's
still fucking me!"
"We
see that," Morgana shouts.
Her
and Vikki bind the upper half, tying the free arm with it, it's head flails
wildly. They rush over lifting his legs to free the lower half from him, his
screams grow deeper as he goes over the edge, Vikki frees a leg just before his
orgasm explodes inside the mock vagina. It continues riding him, until Morgana
frees the other leg. She loops the rope around the crotch, leaving enough
slack, both fighting the kicking legs, fighting to wrap them from the knees down
together, hog tying them best they can, to keep them from bucking. Dylan breaks
free from his petrifying orgasm to help tie the legs to the torso in attempt to
further subdue the mannequin, as it continues to make heavy raspy blowing
noises, which they all assume is screaming. Morgana drags it to a closet,
closing it in.
"I
don't ever; ever want to see you getting off again. Also; why were you fucking
with that thing," Vikki yelled.
"I
told you! I told you not to mess with it! What if you were alone, then what? I
don't know if it can actually feel or if it's just doing whatever you somehow
taught it. Either it was going to get every orgasm from you that it could, or
not stop until it got one, which if it cannot achieve such a feeling; fuck your
cock to dust, or worse once it realized it wasn't getting one. Stop fucking
with it." Morgana scolded.
"I'm
sorry, I didn't think that would happen, I was just jacking off on it. I found
some videos with a chick that looks like it." Dylan cried.
"I
don't wanna hear that shit," Vikki snapped.
"Nor
do I," Morgana added.
"Just
stop this shit. Get a god damn prostitute before you think of unleashing some
sex crazed poltergeist!"
"So
what do we do with it?"
"It
is probably fueled by your ejaculate, bringing it to life, we keep it tied up
and wait to see what happens, hopefully the thing exhaust itself, returning
inanimate," Morgana explains.
"And
you, dumbass; don't fuck with it. I hope you got off and it was worth it."
"I
wonder if he would've offered himself to it, if it presented itself while he
was awake," Morgana walked out.
"He
probably would," Vikki followed.
"No
I wouldn't!"
"Yeah,
yeah," they retorted.
The
next day Morgana carried the shaking thing to her office where she would keep a
camera on it. Dylan locked eye's with it, causing it to convulse and start that
raspy hollow breathing. He felt his cock jump, yelping and running away in
fear.
To
be continued, in the series, Amorous
Goods; a collaborative storyline for Literotica
Amorous Goods: The Cameo Pendant � Part 1
An antique necklace
brings change to Holly's life.
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
The Cameo Pendant.
After
Holly finished correcting and checking some transactions recorded in a client's
bookkeeping records she checked the time on her computer and was surprised to
see it was already midday. Holly knew she had gotten a lot of work done but it
still seemed like it had only just been a short time since she had logged on in
the morning. Lately due to the amount of work there was to get through Holly
was having trouble keeping a handle on the time.
Looking
outside Holly saw that it was a nice and sunny day, she then turned back to her
computer screens and the stack of folders filled with client documents on the
desk beside her and sighed. Holly decided it was time to take a break and felt
the need to get away from her desk for a bit. It was a little earlier than she
usually took her lunch break but if she got started on a new task she might end
up working through lunch again. Holly quickly got up, got her handbag and
headed out. It was nice to have lunch outside for a change and as the
temperature was cooling with the approach of winter it was pleasant to be out
in the sun. When Holly finished eating she found that she wasn't ready to head
back to the office just yet so she decided to go for a walk around the downtown
area.
Just
around the corner from the main street fashion boutiques and trendy bars and
cafes Holly passed by a store with a large sign that in old fashioned text
proclaimed it was called Amorous Goods. The store had been there for as long as
Holly could remember and she had always been curious as to what the store sold
but had never gone in. The store's display windows always had an eclectic
assortment of items that to Holly never really fit with the store's name. Holly
noted that she still had plenty of time left for her lunch break and so on a
whim Holly decided to take a look inside.
Pushing
the door open, Holly was startled and then amused to find that the door had an
actual bell attached to it so that it rang when the door was opened. Entering
the store there was a slight but noticeable difference in atmosphere. The store
was warm but not stuffy and stale as Holly had imagined it might be. Instead of
the smells Holly associated with antiques Holly noticed a hint of the scent of
cinnamon. It was an uncommon scent but one that was a favorite of Holly and she
could feel her mood lift.
The
only person in the store that Holly could see was a woman who looked to be
around her own age carrying a notebook around and who appeared to be
cataloguing the numerous items in the store which Holly was surprised to see
was quite larger than the storefront seemed to suggest. Toward the back of the
store there was even a staircase that went both upstairs and downstairs.
The
woman stopped what she was doing and walked toward Holly to greet her.
"Hi
there, welcome to Amorous Goods, Is there anything I can help you with,
something you're looking for in particular?
Holly
shook her head, "No, I just thought I'd take a look around."
The
woman smiled, "That's no problem. My name's Vikki. If you need any help
just call out for me."
Holly
smiled in return, "Thanks Vikki, I will."
Looking
around the store, Holly was fascinated by the wide range of items to be found.
On one table was a vintage typewriter and an assortment of fountain pens and
even a quill pen. There was a section of the store filled with racks of
clothing. Holly also saw a shelf with books and ornaments including an ornate
arrow, a tea set and bizarrely what appeared to be a white bear skin rug
hanging on the wall.
Holly
wandered over to a glass case containing some display busts with necklaces
draped on them. The necklaces hadn't been arranged neatly, with a number of
them laying on top of each other on the busts. There were a few pearl
necklaces, some lockets, pendants with precious stones and some pendants of
carved jade or ivory. On one of the display busts almost buried under the other
necklaces Holly's attention was drawn to a cameo pendant. The full carved
picture was obscured by the other necklaces, only the profile of a woman's head
could be seen. The sight of the cameo jewelry combined with the scent of cinnamon
triggered memories of Holly's grandmother and the beautiful cameo brooch that
she had in her jewelry collection. Her interest piqued, Holly wanted to get a
better look at the cameo pendant.
Holly
turned to look for Vikki and saw her by a table holding a random assortment of
items.
"Excuse
me, Vikki?"
Vikki
looked up from what she was doing and turned toward Holly.
Holly
gestured towards the display cabinet, "Can I please take a closer look at
one of the pendants?"
Vikki
paused for a brief moment before smiling and nodding, "Sure, I'll just go
get the key for the cabinet "
Holly
watched as Vikki walked to a counter with a computer and cash register on top.
Vikki opened a drawer and pulled out a set of keys which while not comical in
size still had a good number of keys on it. Vikki then pulled out a pair of
white cotton gloves and put them on before joining Holly at the display
cabinet. Holly was a little impressed when Vikki was able to quickly identify the
correct key to open the display cabinet.
"So
which necklace did you want a look at?"
Holly
pointed at the display bust with the cameo pendant on it, "The one at the
bottom with the cameo pendant please."
Vikki
grabbed the necklaces that were on the display bust and Holly was concerned
that the chains would be all tangled. However, Vikki was able to extract the
cameo pendant and hand it to Holly without any trouble.
The
pendant's fine gold chain was in good condition as was the setting for the
pendant. Holly's focus though was on the cameo pendant itself. The carved
picture turned out to be of a slender young woman in a sitting position. To
Holly's surprise the woman was half naked with a long flowing robe or dress
sitting halfway down her back leaving her shoulders and tits bare. The white
carved image was sharply contrasted by the deep dark blue glass surrounding it.
This
cameo pendant was a lot different from her grandmother's brooch which from
Holly's memory wasn't quite as detailed as this and certainly didn't have a
half-naked woman on it. Holly looked closer at the image and was fascinated at
the level of detail that had been carved into the glass.
Hol
1 hr 5 min
June 07 Amorous Goods: Time Does Stand Still at Christmas
Amorous Goods: Time Does Stand Still at Christmas
An old watch and a
demon can really screw up a family.
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
Debbie
hunched over the wheel of her Saturn. The wipers flashed back and forth, back
and forth, back and forth; It was a perfect day to drive back to her dad's
house. Dark, gloomy, the chance of snow - just awful. She didn't want to go
back, but she really had no choice. College was over, but no job offers had
come her way.
She
had been so happy leaving home for college. Her dad had remarried after a
particularly nasty divorce. Deb was happy for him, but she didn't really like
her stepmom and absolutely detested her new stepbrother. He was everything she
wasn't. Good looking, popular, and had a baseball scholarship to a major
college. She was plain, overlooked, and had struggled to get into a reasonably
successful minor college.
John
was four years younger than Debbie but made her life hell. And naturally, his
mom took his side. Her dad could see what was happening but tried to walk a
delicate tightrope between the two families.
"I
know it's hard for you, but try to get along with Johnny. He's only sixteen.
He'll grow out of it." Brian, her dad, said in the early days of the
invasion. He tried to soothe his daughter, but Debbie knew the type of asshole
her stepbrother was. Six years later, nothing had changed.
And
now she was going back to that hell hole. What was worse - if it could get
worse, was her dad wasn't going to be there for the first couple of days. She
was going to have to deal with the Johnny and Janey
show by herself. She shuddered at the thought. Deb had looked for any other
alternative, but she didn't have the friends or funds to stay away. Money for
gas and a cheap meal or two was about it. Not even enough to buy her dad a
Christmas card. She hoped a couple of applications she'd made to local
businesses would yield something soon. Anything.
"Why
does my life suck so much?" she rhetorically asked the world. A thought
drifted into her head suggesting she was cursed. She told it to fuck off. She
may be a Graphic Arts major, but she didn't believe in curses. Bad luck, poor
choices, wrong genes, but not curses.
Rain.
Heading towards sleet. Her stomach growled angrily at the remains of the early
winter storm thumping the North East. She looked at the clock on the dashboard
and calculated the time left to get home, then her finances. She figured she
had enough for a cheeseburger and a decent coffee. Right on cue, the ubiquitous
yellow and red burger sign appeared on the highway, so she pulled into the car
park. Deb thought about just getting drive-through, but the need to pee was
suddenly strong.
"Fine,"
she muttered, getting out of the car and slamming the door. "Let's eat a
limp burger with a bunch of snotty teens pretending this is a cool place to
hang out."
She
ran to the door and looked for the bathroom. Nobody looked at her. That was
normal. After finishing she ordered her meal and sat in a corner booth. The
burger was average but the coffee was surprisingly good. She settled back and
picked up a discarded local paper someone had left behind and started flicking
through it. Debbie wasn't really interested in the news, but the composition
was different from most current newspapers. It was set in a very unusual 1930's
style - so odd she checked the date to make sure it wasn't out of a museum.
The
date was current. Deb figured it was a marketing ploy to make it stand out from
the rapidly dwindling competition, and kept flicking the pages. She stopped
when she got to the classifieds and a small ad caught her eye.
Amorous Goods
Curios from Around
the World
Open most days
12 - 8 pm
Deb
shrugged and turned the page, but her mind didn't want to leave. She turned
back to the advertisement and looked up the address using the free Wi-Fi. It
wasn't too far away, and more importantly, visiting the store gave her an
excuse to stay away from the JJ shitstorm
a bit longer.
Memories
of her actual family on vacation visiting antique stores came flooding back.
Her dad loved old timepieces and Japanese art, while her mom loved porcelain
animals. Deb was just fascinated by anything old and unusual. She finished her
coffee, picked up the paper and quickly walked to the car. Mercifully the rain
had tapered off to a mere drizzle.
She
checked the address again on her phone and drove off. A short time later she
parked outside an old mansion that had seen better days. In the gloom, it
looked downright spooky. It seemed an odd place for an antique store, but Deb
assumed it was part of a small business complex in the old building. The upkeep
on a building this size would be horrendous.
Deb
walked up the path and through the front door. The place looked so familiar,
like many stores she had visited before. Glass cabinets filled with small
items, miscellaneous furniture placed randomly on the floor and shelving around
the walls with beautiful copperplate script notes generally describing the
items on them.
"Good
evening Miss, welcome to Amorous Goods. Can I help you with anything?"
She
turned around from admiring a small Japanese woodblock print on a shelf and
smiled at the speaker. "Hi, I'm just looking thanks. You have some
wonderful items here, though. Like this print. I'd swear it was by Katsushika
Hokusai, but he didn't do paintings of people in, umm, such intimate
poses."
The
man chuckled, "You have a very good eye, Miss. It is actually a Hokusai.
The builder of this collection," he said, sweeping his arm and pointing at
the room, "had a knack of finding highly unusual and rare pieces that had
an erotic connection. Hence the name of the store."
He
carefully picked up the print. "Vikki, my co-owner, believes this is one
of three still in existence. How did you know what it was?"
Deb
shrugged. "My dad loves Japanese art. He has some reproduction Hokusai
prints, but so many books on him. I'd love to get a real one for his Christmas
present, but I think that one would be way out of my price range."
"You're
a nice daughter. What's your price range? Maybe there's something else we
have."
"I
doubt it. My budget is extremely low. Like non-existent."
"Oh.
Well, there's no harm in you having a look around. You may see something you
like, and we could hold it for you for a short time."
"Thanks,
Mr.; I'd love to see what else you have."
"Dylan,
just Dylan will be fine. So Japanese; There's a few items that may interest
you."
Dylan
walked around the shop, picking up items and describing them to Deb. She was
amazed at the range of goods and Dylan's knowledge of each item. As he
mentioned, each one seemed to have an erotic element somewhere in it's past.
Even the razor sharp katana had been used by the Samurai protecting the virginity
of the Emperor's daughter. It apparently had been quite successful in defending
her honor. It was all fantastic, but nothing she could ever hope to afford.
Finally,
Dylan stopped at a glass cabinet and picked up a large pocket watch with a felt
cloth. He held it in his palm and passed it to Deb. "This is interesting.
It's a Japanese pocket watch combined with a stopwatch. It's not that old,
probably late 1960's, and is plated silver. The note with it said it was a prop
in some early 70's; questionable movies. Unfortunately, we can't confirm its
provenance so we're selling it at the typical price for such an item."
Debbie
took the watch and carefully looked at it. The face was a painting of two
Geishas attending a Samurai warrior. Around the edge of the face was kana
script, so small it was barely legible. On the rear was a larger kanji
engraving, which she roughly translated as 'Time will stop, but love is
forever.'
"That's
beautiful," she said quietly, "I've never seen something like that
before. And the kanji. What a nice present." She shook her head. Holding
the watch seemed to fill her with an unusual warmth. Just a flash, then it was
gone. She handed it back to Dylan, who picked it up in the cloth again. "I
probably can't afford it either, but I'm interested in its history. What movies
was it supposed to be in? I may have watched them."
Dylan
chuckled. "Possibly. I don't judge people's tastes. Some of them were 'Otoko wa tetsudō
de jikan o teishi shimasu, Otoko wa taiikukan de jikan o teishi shimasu, Otoko wa jikanwotomete sararīman to sekkusu;�
Deb
blinked at the last title. "Man stops time and has sex with office worker?
Really?"
"Yes,
I did say they were questionable movies. They were early Japanese reality
pornography, the first in this particular genre. The premise was the male
character had a watch that could stop time for anyone around him, and he would
carry out sexual acts on them. It spawned a huge number of copycat movies, but
this was supposed to be unscripted, real-life acts."
"Really?
That's creepy." She looked at the watch again. "How much is it?"
Deb asked. She didn't really like the tale, but the watch itself was something
her dad would really appreciate.
"We
have it at $85, mainly because of its age." Dylan shuffled his feet and
looked at Deb hard. "Tell you what. Vikki prefers to see our special items
go to those who will appreciate them. I think you would. I'll cut the price to
$50, and how about we work out a modified layaway plan so you can take it home
tonight? Consider it a Christmas present from us."
"Wow.
Really? That would be awesome."
Dylan
smiled and went behind the sales counter. He took down Deb's details and
carefully placed the watch in a cloth lined box, then handed it to her.
"Here you are. Be careful with it. It's completely sealed, and we can't
figure out how to open the mechanism. Also, try and avoid touching it with your
bare skin. It will react to your touch."
"What,
like the plating will tarnish?" Debbie asked, taking the box.
"Something
like that. Thanks for visiting Amorous Goods, and please drop by again. Have a
Merry Christmas."
Debbie
smiled broadly at Dylan, waved and walked back to her car. The rain had stopped
and the sky had started to clear. Things were slightly better than they were; a
couple of hours ago! She gasped as she looked at the time. Nearly two hours had
flown by. On one hand, she enjoyed being guided around the store, but on the
other, it was going to make a very late arrival home. She started the car and
headed away from the old mansion. In the rearview mirror she caught a glimpse
of the old building. It appeared to swell slightly, then shrink back. Almost
like it had drawn a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
'I
need some sleep,' she thought, shaking her head.
Two
hours later she pulled into her familiar driveway. As expected, her dad's car
wasn't there. Dipshit's Silverado truck wasn't there either. Debbie figured
he'd gone out partying again with his college buddies or his cheerleading
girlfriend. A lone light was on in the lounge. She hoped Jane was just being
nice and left it on after going to bed, but a flicker of light from the TV put
paid to that hope. Sighing, she grabbed her bag off the back seat and walked
inside.
"Hi
Jane, how are you?" she said in a monotone to the pneumatic blonde lying
on the couch. Deb grudgingly had to admit, her stepmom looked pretty good for
her age. There was enough of her dad's money going into gym classes and other
"therapy" to hold her looks to the early-40's. Debbie didn't like it,
but she really couldn't say anything. Just go with the flow, like she always
did.
"Hi
Deborah. Good to see you safe. I was starting to get worried," Jane
replied, not taking her eyes off the TV. Deb gritted her teeth at being called
'Deborah'. Nobody had called her that unless she was in trouble, and Janey knew it. It was one of the small passive aggressive
things the two assholes did to annoy her.
"Yeah,
the rain was coming down pretty hard out east so I stopped for a while to let
it blow over. I'm pretty tired, so I'll see you in the morning."
"Sure
Deborah. I'll be at Pilates at six, but you know where everything is. Johnny's
out with Cindy. He may be back tonight." Janey
turned to look at Deb for the first time that night. "How's your college
cheering team? Are you doing okay?"
"We're
fine. We came second in the Regionals," Deb replied.
"That's
nice. Good night." said Janey and turned back to
watch 'The Real Housewives of Debbie Didn't Give a Shit Where.'
Another
needle. She had enjoyed gymnastics and cheering as a young girl, but then her
body conspired against that. By the time she was into puberty, it was obvious
her body was going to be shaped like a brick. She was still reasonably athletic
and was selected to be on the base of her High School cheer squad because of
her strength. Again, she was average and never saw more trophies than the
Regionals. That carried through to College.
She
lightly ran up the stairs and into her room. She was happy to see nothing had
changed. The thought had gone through her mind that her stuff would have been
tossed out and the room used for another area for John to infect.
"Oh,
fuck. Why is everything so shit?" she asked no one, tossing her bag onto
the bed and sitting down. Sighing, she closed her eyes and fell back. Deb was
just starting to doze off when a weight landed on her chest and a series of
small needles started pressing into one side, then the other.
She
smiled and opened her eyes to see a pair of yellow feline ones looking back at
her. "Hello Sebastian," she said to the black cat. "Nice to see
you."
Seb had come with the two J's, but he'd actually taken a
shine to Debbie. Janey thought it strange as Seb usually avoided people he didn't know. Deb scratched
him behind an ear, and the cat started purring loudly in response. "Well,
I knew you'd be happy to see me."
Deb
sat up and caught a glimpse of the box her watch had been packed in. She
dropped Seb off her lap and grabbed the box. The cat
looked impassively at her, then started cleaning himself.
"Don't
shed too much hair on my bed," she laughed and opened the box. Looking
closely at the face, she noticed that the Samurai appeared to have his hand
deep under one of the Geisha's kimono, but the woman didn't have any reaction
on her face. She hadn't noticed that before.
"Huh,
strange drawing. I guess it fits with the story though. Nice touch," she
said to the cat, who ignored her. She tipped the watch onto her palm and
closely examined the case. Dylan was right. It looked completely sealed. She
turned it over and closely examined the script around the face under her
bedside light. It was definitely Japanese, but it was beyond her basic
knowledge of the language.
"Well,
let's see if it works. Guess I wind it up with the crown." Seb looked at her, then started chewing on his front paw.
"Tasty?"
Deb laughed as she wound the watch. She could feel the mechanism click under
her fingers and the small second hand started to sweep around the smaller dial
on the face, a barely audible tick coming from the case. A slight warmth went
through her fingers and disappeared.
"Well,
that's pretty awesome. Dad will love this. Guess I'd better check the stopwatch
function." Seb had stopped chewing his paw and
had started cleaning himself again. One rear leg was in the air, and his tongue
busy licking the inside. He looked up at Deb, then continued his work.
Deb
looked at the two buttons either side of the crown knob. One was probably the
start and the other to stop the timer. She tapped the left button and a large
needle started circling the face. She grinned at the watch, then looked over at
Sebastian. He had stopped cleaning himself, his leg high in the air and tongue
hanging out.
"Seb? You okay? Sebastian?" She poked the cat with a
finger, and Seb didn't react. Worried, she looked
closer at him. He looked okay. Moving her face close to his nose she thought
she could feel a shallow breath.
"Well,
that's a relief. What happened?" She looked at the warm feeling watch in
her hand, and a sense of dread came over her.
"No;
That's impossible; Nothing could stop; Fuck. Wow." She pressed the other
button and Seb resumed his ablutions, completely
unaware that he had been frozen in time. Deb tapped the start button again and
Sebastian froze again. She carefully pulled his tail and straightened it out.
She was surprised to see he was still supple. Just to make sure, she pushed his
upper leg down flat and gently tilted his head back. Seb
moved in the direction she pushed with minimal resistance. Deb pushed the other
button and the cat licked the air.
Sebastian
looked around with a confused look and jumped to his feet. He glared at Deb,
flicked his tail in disgust and stalked out of the room.
Deb
suppressed a chuckle at the indignant cat who obviously guessed she was to
blame for his air lick. "Sorry Seb, but I need
to check something."
She
tapped the stop time button and Seb paused mid-step.
Deb quietly walked to the top of the stairs, bending down to scratch him behind
the ear as she walked by. Looking down, she peered at her stepmom to see if
there was any movement. The TV still was on, but she couldn't tell if Jane was
frozen or just asleep. Finally, Jane coughed and shuffled on the couch.
"Hmmm,
so there's a limit. More than ten feet, less than fifty. Oh, sorry Seb." Deb tapped the go button and the cat started
walking again.
"This
is unbelievable. How could this work? Wow. Just. Mmmm. Maybe those movies were
real. Huh."
She
pulled out her laptop and searched for the titles Dylan mentioned. They were
exactly as he had described. They were all fairly short and followed a similar
format. A wobbly handheld camera panned around, then focused on a particular
woman wearing a short skirt. The cameraman followed her until she was alone,
then there was a shot of the watch Deb had bought and a finger hitting the
pause button. The scene cut and changed as if the camera was now mounted on a
tripod.
A
hooded man walked up to the now still woman and ran his hand up her leg and
over her butt. He then pushed a hand down her shirt and roughly grabbed her
boobs and slobbered over her mouth. The man bent her over and pushed a finger
under her panties and roughly finger fucked the woman. Finally, he pushed his
pixelated cock into her pussy and rapidly fucked her, pulling out and shooting
his load over the b
1 hr 5 min
June 06 Amorous Goods: Three Horny Monkeys Part 3
Amorous Goods: Three Horny Monkeys � Part 3
Community Assets,
at Amorous Goods
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
Continuing from
Part 2.
Chapter
Thirty-Three.
Sam
responded to the Korean wife's question. "Yes, your gaping asshole filled
with my cum is going to be an incredible picture. I think you and I will both
jerk off to it for years to come." He was about to carry on with something
about her not showing that particular image to her husband right away, when
So-Young broke in.
"Hmm,
I just know you're right. But now I'm imagining the next photo and I want you
to make it for me."
Sam
sat up, again realizing that So-Young had taken her involvement in the process
further than any previous model. It seemed his normalization and inclusion
process had reached a new level. "And what photo is that?" he asked.
"Eat
the cum out of my ass," she said strongly. "I want to feel your
tongue digging your seed from my anus, but I also want to have that image to
look at forever. Like you said, I can easily imagine masturbating while looking
at just those three photos: my virgin ass filled with your cock, my gaping ass
filled with your cum, and your stiff tongue going in after it."
The
little pervert sat back in shock. So-Young had outdone him and she was right.
Sam knew he'd get lots of sales of the cum-filled asshole by itself and many
more combined with the virgin reaming, but there was a whole other fringe
audience that would gladly pay highly for the third shot So-Young mentioned.
He
considered for a moment. It really wasn't his thing, sexually, but from a
business angle...
But
it would require breaking a cardinal rule, he never included his own face in
any of the images he published. And then he remembered that the cum had been
poured out of his condom; a condom coated inside with desensitizing lubricant.
Nope, not getting Benzocaine-tainted spunk on his tongue, no thanks.
Sam
didn't want to break his best spell ever by shutting So-Young down cold,
however, so he deflected with some half-truths. "You're right, Mrs. Lee,
that would be a very exciting shot. That's part of what makes you such a
natural erotic model, you can see the images in your naughty head as well as
make them happen with your heavenly body. But men want to imagine it's them
doing these things to you and including my face would go too far in knocking
them out of that fantasy."
"But
what if only you and I got to see that picture?" she purred. "You're
not afraid of your own cum, are you?"
"Well,
my goo is so mixed up with the lubricant that it would be pretty nasty, so yes,
I guess today I am afraid," he laughed. "I'll tell you what, though,
let's get an 'almost there' shot."
Sam
approached So-Young's ass from the side, on hands and knees. He leaned his head
in with tongue extended and licked her bum, just an inch away from her creamy
butthole. He had no intention of letting her have a copy of this image, but it
did serve to keep the mood going for the rest of today's session.
"How
about we do something else special with the cum in your ass?" said Sam.
The young wife still rested on one beautiful cheek, with her ass up in the air.
Sam slipped a mid-sized dildo into her hand. "I couldn't get a good shot
with my best camera when you had that incredible anal orgasm earlier." Now
he got his mouth down close to her ear again and put some extra growl into his
voice. "I want that picture. I want to capture you trembling in passion from
fucking your own, cum-filled ass. It sounded so sexy when you said you loved
having things in your ass and it looked and felt beyond sexy when your virgin
anus clamped down on my hard cock."
The
defiled young woman could only manage to groan and whimper in delight as Sam
brought back her outrageous words and actions. Again she wondered why she ever
thought there was something wrong with that kind of action and behavior before.
Now she could hardly wait to give her ass to her husband too.
Sam
slipped off the end of the bed and reset the video camera just off to the side
a bit as he kept talking to So-Young. "Mrs. Lee, my cum is running from
your tight ass, down to your beautiful pussy." She heard his SLR camera click. "What do you think about starting
with the dildo in your pussy, then pushing the cum back up your perineum and
into your ass? Do you think that's a picture you and John would like?"
"Show
me!" she suddenly said.
Sam
walked around the side of the bed as he brought the last pictures up on the viewfinder
screen. He leaned across and held the camera so the hot Korean could see. He
cycled through the three shots he'd taken of the line of cum connecting her
anus to her cunt. "That's just the kind of sensuous image I knew I'd get
working with you," he cooed. "Is it what you were hoping for?"
"Oh,
yes," she gushed. "It's really hot and you make my naughty bits look
so pretty."
"That's
because they are pretty, So-Young. Pretty and hot and horny. Show me now how
hot and horny they look with a dildo in them. Give yourself a good fuck, Mrs.
Lee. Show Mr. Lee what you want him to do with his cock." Sam pulled the
camera away and retook his position behind his bewitched model.
The
Korean beauty arranged herself to allow for the easiest penetration and then went
to work with the dildo just as Dolan had directed. She rubbed it over her clit
a few times; then dragged the tip up between her labia until she was lined up
with her vagina, where she pushed. Sam's camera clicked all along the way.
She
poked her cunny for several strokes and then slowly pulled it out and dragged
the tip upwards with a bit of sideward slant. "Yes," Sam said.
"You have a nice gob of goo there." His camera clicked. When she
reached her rosebud, she began teasing it with the tip of the dildo. Soon
after, she had the first inches inside and then she got down to seriously
fucking herself.
"That
looks so good," Dolan encouraged her. "Your pretty asshole is just
swallowing it up and the cum is beautifully messy.
"Your
cock felt better," So-Young grunted. "But this is good. You made my
asshole so slippery with your spunk; I love shoving it inside me." She had
the toy buried all the way to its testes-shaped handle and twisted it around.
"These
pictures are going to be incredible," the photographer cheered. "You
make the perfect cock-hungry ass-slut!"
Mrs.
Lee was once again a near-gibbering volcano of desire. "Ass-slut,
yes," she grunted. "Pound, pound ass." The dildo was flying in
and out. "Virgin ass, slut ass, fuck, fuck, fuck;� And then she was
screaming and creaming and squirting from her pussy. Sam caught it all and
cursed again that his pecker took so long to recharge. He was going to have to
score some Viagra.
Chapter
Thirty-Four.
Morgana
looked over the jewelry sale receipt that Dylan had recovered from the office
upstairs in the AG store. "Well, it looks like we might have had a little
luck anyway. I don't recognize this liquidator as someone involved with Ludwig
or any of his Amorous Enterprises."
"Amorous
enterprises," sighed Vikki. "Why couldn't he just have left me a
Victoria's Secret franchise at the mall?"
Dylan
laughed. "Vikki, Victoria, nicely ironic. Heck, you'd have the most
successful Victoria's Secret store ever if you could sprinkle just a little AG
magic over everything."
"Yeah,"
his faux-cousin said. "Hot pants that really make you hot and Wonder Bras
that lift your libido along with your boobs."
The
Delacroix Witch smiled slightly, glad to have her hesitant partners climbing
out of their guilty depression.
"So,
I guess the next step is to call the liquidator and hope she hasn't resold
everything. Then we'll just have to come up with the money to rebuy the monkeys
and anything else that's enchanted," said Vikki.
"Man,
that's going to be tough," said Dylan. "That was months ago and most
of that money has been spent on other recovery missions."
"Well,
imagine how much more money it would take to buy those things back from people
who actually know what they are?" Vikki responded. Dylan nodded in
agreement. Then Vikki added, "In fact I'm surprised that stuff, and lots
more, wasn't scooped up by old AG partygoers who do know about the
charms."
"Well,
if I remember correctly," said Dylan, "the lady who took the jewelry
just happened to be in town at the estate sale of some rich old woman who
passed away just before Ludwig. In fact, I think she heard about his death from
someone at the estate sale and popped in here even before our sale was
advertised. She obviously knew what she was doing when she looked over the
jewelry and made an offer that was well within the price range I'd been
thinking about, so I was glad to make a quick, first sale."
Morgana
said, "I think our own quick, first steps now should be for Dylan to call
the liquidator and find out what she still has, what she's sold, and who she
sold it to, while Vikki and I look over Ludwig's records and put together a
priority list of what is most critical for us to recover."
"And
I take it the Three Horny Monkeys are at the top of the list." said Vikki.
Chapter
Thirty-Five.
Sam
and So-Young were once again curled up on the sofa reviewing photographs. She
had showered in the small bathroom in the corner of the studio and was back in
her street clothes, although she hadn't put on her brassiere and her blouse
remained unbuttoned. Sam played almost absentmindedly with her sweet tits,
while So-Young scrolled through the images on the laptop screen.
She
was going through the final scenes, where she'd dildo-fucked herself to another
anal orgasm. The pictures were dirty and hot, but still artistic, showing Sam
really knew what he was doing. She paused at one where he'd changed his angle
to clearly show the three monkeys bouncing on her wrist as she reamed herself.
"The
Sam Dolan trademark," she chuckled. "See no evil, hear no evil, speak
no evil. Just a lot of wickedness." She turned her head toward him and the
two shared a deep, exploring kiss. "Should I tell my husband that the
white stuff is your spunk?" she asked with her own 3-monkey wickedness.
"Hmm,"
the little man considered. "I think it might be best if you hold off on
that for a little while at least. First just show him the main album I put
together for you and we'll keep this one in your private extra album. See how
he takes everything in the main album and then decide if you want to share the
other one or save it for your own private moments."
"My
extra private album? How much more are you going to charge me for that?"
she said in a teasing tone. "Aren't I already paying you enough for
fucking all my holes and turning me into an exhibitionist slut?"
"Yes,
yes you are," he agreed with a chuckle. "But I meant what I said
about you being an exceptional model and I'll add the extra album for free
because I enjoyed working with you so much." He gave her tit a harder
squeeze as he went in for another hot kiss.
"Well,
I suppose we may as well get the business stuff over with," she said
sadly, when he finally pulled away. "I've been here much longer than I
expected and I still want to get home before John comes home from work."
They
moved to his desk and took the seats where they'd started their day together.
When So-Young put her hands on the desk she realized she was still wearing the
lovely antique bracelet. She reached out to undo the clasp, but Sam suddenly
put his hand on top of hers.
"Leave
it for now," he said.
"Don't
want me to see any evil in the contract?" she asked.
Sam
froze a moment, she was exactly right, but did she really know it?
So-Young
picked the contract up off the desk and rifled quickly through the pages.
"This isn't the same contract you gave me to look at before, is it?"
It
finally struck Sam that the young woman was smiling as she said it and looking
at him with a glint of mischief in her eye. She was still on board the monkey
train.
"No,
it's not," the photographer answered the model/client's question.
"Your pictures are going to be so hot, so sexy, so classic, that I think
we should share them with others. That will be easiest if I just keep control
of the whole process, so we'll use my usual contract for when I hire a model,
but slightly modified to say that you hired me."
"So,
I paid you to control me in the studio and I'm paying you to control me
afterwards?"
Dolan
took So-Young's hands in his, brought them to his lips for a kiss, then stared
directly into her eyes. "Mrs. Lee, you needed someone to control you,
didn't you?" He felt her grip tighten. "And you've been happy with my
control, haven't you?" She nodded shyly. "In fact, today you've both
let loose of your control, while somehow also taking more control over your own
pleasure, and you've loved both of those feelings, haven't you?"
"Yes,"
his unsuspecting victim finally answered. "I never would have done any of
the things we did today without you. I might say you made me do them, but that
doesn't feel right. It feels more like you just made me understand there was no
reason not to try them and no reason not to just relax and enjoy them
fully."
"I'm
glad you feel that way," the deviant photographer said. "It means I
did that part of my job properly and helped you be the terrific model I knew
you could be. And with this contract I'll be able to do the rest of my job
properly and make you a famous model as well."
"Famous?
So, my 'private' photos won't be private? The sexy photos that were meant only
for my husband will be seen by other men?"
"And
women," Sam said firmly. "Some of them will want to be with you and
others will want to be like you, free and confident."
A
thought suddenly struck So-Young. "Have you made Chae-Won
famous?" Remembering how sexually-charged her friend had seemed ever since
her own photo session with Sam Dolan, So-Young realized that Chae-Won must have had an experience like hers.
"Yes,"
answered Sam with a little hesitation.
"Show
me," said So-Young.
Now
Sam really had to pause and think. No model had ever seen the true results of
her work with Sam before he had their signature on a contract and it was their
own image they saw up on the Web; too late to put the genie back in the bottle.
If So-Young saw her friend posted as a visual sex toy for sale, would it cause
her to refuse to sign her own model release? Or would it be more damaging to
his efforts if he refused to show Mrs. Lee the pictures of Mrs. Park that
So-Young obviously knew were out there?
Sam
looked down at the desktop to get away from So-Young's demanding eyes and there
he saw his answer. The monkeys on the bracelet looked especially cheeky just
then and Sam knew he should keep going with them instead of doing anything
counter to their mantra. He raised his eyes back up to his new model's.
"Of course."
Sam
pulled his laptop over, raised the cover and followed a bookmark to the teaser
section of "Sam's Monkey house". After a couple of keystrokes to get
to Chae-Won's collection, he turned the laptop around
to face So-Young. There were two chairs on her side of the desk and Sam moved
around to sit next to her.
At
this level of access, the models' faces were not visible; they were facing away
or were out of the frame or Sam had covered them with a blurred oval. He started
a slideshow that walked through Chae-Won's various
lingerie poses.
So-Young
and Chae-Won regularly took saunas together at the
local swim center, so she recognized her friend's body. Of course, her
girlfriend didn't usually squeeze her tits together and hold them out to
So-Young while they sat sweating, so that was a new way of thinking of her
friend.
So-Young
suddenly reached out and hit the spacebar to pause the slideshow. "I wore
that outfit today too, didn't I?"
"Yes."
Sam said. "And you looked at least as hot as she does, if not
hotter."
"Did
you fuck her too? There, on the same bed where you fucked me?"
Sam
took the young woman's chin in his fingers and turned her face toward his.
"Yes," he said firmly. "I fucked you both in the same bed."
"Show
me," she said again.
Sam
jumped up to the third level in the site and slowly walked through a series of
shots that showed Chae-Won on hands and knees on the
bed, ass to the camera, pussy wide open. In the last three photos, his cock
entered the frame, entered the woman's cunt, and then buried itself to the
hilt.
"It's
making my pussy wet again," sighed So-Young. "Does it make other
people's pussies wet?"
"Or
their cocks hard, yes, that's what people tell me," Sam replied.
"And
will I make their cocks hard?"
"Very
hard," he assured her. "Rock hard."
The
corrupted housewife pulled the contract to her and picked up the pen that lay
atop of it. She initialed each page as Sam had told her earlier and then signed
the final page. She closed the document and pushed it and the pen to the far
side of the desktop.
"Did
you fuck her on this desk?" she asked Sam.
The
photographer blinked, confused. "Um, no."
"Good.
Then you can fuck me on this desk and I'll be one up on Chae-Won."
It was a good thing the monkey had his eyes covered, because there was
definitely an evil-looking smile on So-Young's face.
Sam
had been feeling twinges of life in his crotch as they had been looking through
Chae-Won's photos on the website and now there was a
definite lurch. "Yes," he said. "Let's put you one up on Mrs.
Park." And he did.
Chapter Thirty-Six.
A
half hour later, Dylan came back down into the AG basement archive. "Any
luck down here?" he asked the women.
"Yes,"
answered Vikki. "Fortunately, it looks like Ludwig acquired all the pieces
we sold to the liquidator in three batches, so a few more of the items were on
the list we started with. Then Morgana had ideas of when the other things had
shown up at AG and those dates helped us find the other two inventories. And so
far, it does appear that the three-monkey bracelet is indeed the most critical
item we need to recover."
"Good,
because that's where I put most of my effort with Jill, the estate liquidator.
As we figured, she wasn't too keen on just giving out information about her own
customers, but ironically, we apparently were the ones who sent the guy who
bought the bracelet to her."
Vikki
said, "You mean somebody showed up here looking for the bracelet back
then? Why didn't you say so earlier?"
Dylan
raised his hands in defense. "No, it didn't go down that way. He never
brought up the bracelet or any jewelry specifically
0 min
June 05 Amorous Goods: Three Horny Monkeys Part 2
Amorous Goods: Three Horny Monkeys � Part 2
"See no evil, hear no
evil, speak no evil."
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
Continuing from
Part 1.
Chapter Fifteen.
'Arising
from its charm? WTF?' Sam had thought at the time. But old Freitag
had sure been right, the photographer remembered now. Everyone had been very
happy indeed with the pictures he'd taken that night.
"How
about we look at some of the images we've captured so far?" Sam said to
So-Young. He grabbed his laptop and a cable from his desk, and then took a seat
next to her on the sofa. Her nipples looked ready to cut glass and he could
positively smell her musky sex, but he'd learned to take it slow and really
build up the legitimate aspects of what they were doing together so that what
followed would come naturally, with no hesitation or regret.
Sam
connected his camera to the laptop and booted up the viewer. He nodded at a
throw pillow beside her, which the young model placed on her naked lap. Sam put
the computer on the pillow. Whatever image he brought up for review in the
camera viewfinder, she would see displayed on the computer screen.
"You
have been magnificent," he told her. "One of my best models ever. I
know we have many pictures you and your husband are going to love. But we'll
take a quick look through to make sure we have everything you want in this
setting or if maybe a certain pose should be re-done for whatever reason. Okay?"
So-Young
glowed at the praise and nodded. As the pictures slowly rolled across the
computer screen, she felt the warmth in her lower belly growing even stronger
as she saw her body through his eyes. The first shots were in her own red baby
dolls and So-Young thought she looked very nervous and unsure of herself, more
like a teenager than a 24-year old woman, but Sam was praising the images.
"You
look so sweet and innocent here," he purred. "But your outfit and the
way you hold your beautiful body are on the edge of dirty." He turned his
head to look into her eyes. "Are you a young innocent, about to give
yourself to your first lover? Or a dangerous Lolita about to take away a
married man's fidelity?"
The
young wife blushed and re-examined the photos with Sam's perspective. As they
progressed, she had changed outfits a few times, each one somehow more risqu�
than the ones before. The looks on her face also changed, following the same
progression from innocent interest to carnal desire.
Then
suddenly she realized the photos they were looking at now showed her completely
unclothed. They were the last ones they'd shot, since she'd done her beauty
poses for him. She was naked in them, just as she was naked now; but she was
also somehow more than just nude. Her head raised from the monitor and looked
at him with a hint of doubt.
"You're
surprised at how comfortable you feel, aren't you?" he crooned. He'd been
on the lookout for the doubt and was ready. "I have to say how impressed I
am with your poise, with your confidence. You truly carry yourself like a
professional. Yes, a professional. I almost feel like I should be paying you
for this session, not the other way around."
A
smile began to creep across her face. "I did say 'almost'," he
offered with a small laugh. "I'm afraid I'll still need my fee." The
humor did the trick and all doubt left her. She returned her gaze to the
screen.
There
were full body shots from high and low, close ups of her ass from side and
back, shots of her thick bush with a light aimed directly at it to show its
texture and the shine of the wetness building beneath, and many angles of the
tits that she secretly feared were too small, but now looked absolutely
perfect. She especially liked some where he'd had her caress or hold her tits
and you could clearly see the three jade monkeys dangling over tit and nipple.
'No
Ludwig Freitag to stop me from taking pictures of the
treasure now,' Sam thought as he looked at what had become one of his signature
shots.
"See
no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil," So-Young said softly, almost like a
mantra.
Chapter Sixteen.
"See
no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil." Sam remembered hearing Mrs. Terwilliger saying the same thing to Mr. Terwilliger while he moved in to get pictures of their
faces so close, so loving, so romantic in the midst of so much debauchery.
"Exactly,"
the husband had replied. "I see no evil, only beauty. I hear no evil, only
words of desire. And what we speak cannot be evil, because it comes from our
hearts."
Romantic
words to go with the romantic kisses, Sam had thought, wishing he had a video
camera. He'd suggested bringing one, since he'd shot video of the Terwilligers in their home. But Freitag
had said no, it was too easy to capture inadvertent images and too hard to find
and delete them afterward. Maybe on a future visit, Sam had thought, if I can
prove myself this time.
He'd
gotten back to proving himself with his camera, but he'd really had to work at
it because he kept getting caught up in the words between the Terwilligers.
"Has
it felt good; has it been exciting?" The Mister asked while staring into
his wife's eyes.
"Yes,"
was all the Missus said.
Sam
noticed the bank officer had his hand on the kindergarten teacher's wrist; the
same wrist with the bracelet. In fact, his hand was covering most of it and Sam
took the chance to get a shot he hoped would pass Freitag's
censorship; there were just a few links of silver in one area, and just enough
of one jade monkey to know it was the one with its hands over its mouth.
"And
there's nothing wrong with that, is there?" the man continued.
"No,"
she answered. Sam thought she sounded a bit hypnotized at first, but then she
repeated, "No," in a strong, clear voice. "There is nothing
wrong with that at all." A full smile broke across her face.
"It's
been good to watch all these wonderful people making love and now it's going to
be even better to take part; to enjoy the pleasure around us."
"I've
wanted to for a long time," she admitted. "And I'm ready." She
paused. "Are you ready?" she asked with a slightly sinister tone.
Mr.
Terwilliger didn't have the charmed bracelet to
banish his doubts, but he'd committed them to this step. "Yes. Shall I ask
the first stranger to fuck you?" Of course, they weren't really strangers,
but that was the play they'd scripted.
"No,"
she answered, drawing a look of surprise from her husband. "I want the
biggest one first, not the smallest one." The banker raised one eyebrow.
The teacher carried on. "Instead of building up to the biggest one, I want
to start with him, and then challenge myself to squeeze down on the smallest
even after I'm fucked out." The look on her face was indescribably wanton
and sensuous and challenging and Sam still thought it might be the best image
he'd ever captured. A giant enlargement of that face, with that look, now hung
on his bedroom wall, looking at him every night.
Chapter Seventeen.
Looking
now at the exotic Asian beauty of the young Mrs. Lee, Sam wondered if he might
not have a chance to capture another perfect moment.
"Exactly,"
the duplicitous photographer responded to his bewitched model. "I see no
evil, only beauty. I hear no evil, only words of desire. And what we speak
cannot be evil, because it comes from our hearts." Sam had stolen this
line from Mr. Terwilliger (although he suspected Terwilliger had stolen it first from Freitag)
and used it often with his models.
Sam
took the computer from So-Young's lap and disconnected it from his camera as he
walked to his desk. When he returned to the sofa, he snatched the pillow off
her lap with a flourish and a smile and tossed it aside. He reached out, took
her hand and raised her to her feet.
He
stood close in front of her and So-Young realized viscerally how much she
towered over him, even though she was only 5' 6". She'd never had this perspective
on a grown man before and found it remarkably sexy and powerful. She played the
role of the man and bent down to kiss him. She hadn't kissed a man other than
her husband this way for almost four years, but she didn't feel guilty. She
just felt horny.
Sam
reveled in the passion of her kiss and almost lost his way. The charm had
worked and she was his and he was more than ready to take her. Fortunately, he
still had his camera in his hand and when it bumped up against the woman's
naked thigh during their kiss, he remembered that he had much more to do with
John Lee's wife before he fucked her.
Sam
Dolan pulled back, still holding the Korean beauty's hand in his. "Come my
dear," he said softly as he led her over to the bedroom part of the set.
So-Young
couldn't believe the man's self-control and will power and it just made her
want to give up her own control and submit to his will even more. She padded
obediently behind him to the edge of the double bed.
The
man stroked her tits and belly as he said, "Your husband is going to love
the pictures we've taken so far. But you know he'll really lose his mind when
he sees your beautiful body laid out on a bed for his pleasure, won't he?"
This
little word play served a dual purpose for Sam. He'd found that every reference
back to the original plan appeared to make it easier for his victims to think
that whatever outrageous thing he asked them to do next, it fit properly into
that plan. The other purpose was for his alibi tape. Sam had a couple of wide-angle
video cameras in the ceiling that covered the entire set. Their microphones
were mated to other mics by the sofa and bed. If anyone ever challenged him on
the authenticity of a wayward wife's model release signature on his
full-ownership/full-use contract, all he had to do was show them the video of
the wife agreeing to everything; all in the name of pleasing her husband.
"Yes,
yes he will," So-Young said honestly. She could easily imagine her husband
John taking her on their marital bed, with the Boudoir album lying open
alongside them so he could be sure she was in the same position as in the
photos. It made her pussy tingle even more and she wished John was here right
now so Sam could take photos of them making love.
Then,
Sam's finger was inside her wet pussy and So-Young's imagination took another
leap; to where John took Sam's camera to take pictures of her fucking another
man. When the little man slipped a second finger inside her, So-Young grabbed
the back of his head and pulled his mouth to her tit. He suckled as he
finger-fucked her and the enchanted wife felt an orgasm building up inside her.
Then
suddenly Sam was gone and So-Young felt desperately empty. He marched over to
where her original red satin baby doll lay on a chair and tossed it at her. She
barely managed to capture the outfit against her torso; her eyes were wide,
wanting Sam's touch, his direction.
"Put
that on," he growled, struggling to hold himself back from attacking the
dripping pussy. But he put the attention on her, to build up her own passion.
"You liked my fingers inside of you, didn't you?" She eagerly nodded
yes. "But that wouldn't be enough for you would it?" She looked a bit
perplexed. "What do you want even more than my fingers?"
A
smile grew on her face. "Your cock!" she declared. "Won't you
give it to me?"
His
return smile was decidedly more evil than hers. "Oh yes, yes I will. But
we need other images first. I know that once I give you my cock, I won't be
able to see straight and so won't be able to take any more pictures. And you
want more pictures for your portfolio, don't you?"
So-Young
was very pleased to know that Sam thought she'd fuck him cross-eyed, but he was
such a strong man, such a professional about his photography, and she knew he
was right, she did want more pictures for her album. More naughty pictures to
show her husband. And her friend Chae-Won, she
thought suddenly. That would be a whole other type of fun to compare photos
with her sexy friend. She kept smiling as she put on the baby-doll she'd
brought from home.
For
the next 30 minutes Sam posed her on the bed in the red satin and in the other
outfits she'd worn in the "living room." But this time each set ended
up with her more exposed; finding different ways to pull the fabric of the
outfits either up into her soaking wet crack, or away from her straining
nipples or cutely wrinkled asshole. The last shots captured So-Young's face and
body straining in orgasm as she frantically played with herself through a set
of crotchless panties.
Now
she eyed Sam's crotch with almost ravenous hunger, but he forced a bottle of
mineral water into her hand and told her to take a drink and then put on the
red satin baby doll again.
"No
more wine?" she asked, though that wasn't what she was really frustrated
about.
"We
want to be relaxed, not sloppy," he replied. Another link in the alibi
tape; 'No, he hadn't gotten her drunk and taken advantage.' So-Young did what
she was told.
Sam
walked over to a shelf against the wall and returned with a plastic box. He
pulled off the lid and she saw it was full of different types of sex toys and
lubricants. "It's time for the next stage," he told her in his firm,
masterful voice. He brought over a video camera mounted on a tripod and set it
up pointing at her sitting on the edge of the bed in her red pajamas with their
wet stains. He turned it on.
He
picked up his still camera and started taking more pictures of her as he spoke.
"We've taken the "safe" photos you can show your friends and the
"exposed" photos you can show your nastier friends. Now we're going
to take some toy photos that will make your husband really excited. Then we're
going to take the pictures with the real cock. It's up to you if you share
those with John."
Sam
moved so he was in front of and just to the side of the video camera, so she
was almost looking into it as she looked at him. "And we're going to add
video, to really capture your pleasure and excitement. Is that what you want,
baby?" Sam demanded. "Do you want me to take photos and videos of you
fucking yourself with your fingers? With toys? With another man's cock?"
She
began doing the first thing, pulling the crotch of her pajama bottom to the
side and jamming her fingers inside her cunt before answering. "Yes!
Fingers, toys and cock! I want you to record it all, to take pictures of
everything."
"Did
you know you wanted to be an exhibitionist before? Have you ever wanted your
husband to show you off in public? Or take dirty pictures of you and put them
on the Internet?"
"Oh,
my God!" the bewitched young woman cried out. "I've never done that,
never talked about it. But you're right, I do want to. God, the idea is so
exciting." Her fingers were flying over her clit. "Let people watch
me. Let them know what a slut I am! Ah ah ah," she screamed in another orgasm.
Sam
was feeling golden. He didn't plan on her, or especially her husband, ever
finding out what he was going to do with her photos and video, but even if they
did, this last little bit would make it very clear it was all with her consent
and even desire. And of course, he wouldn't ever have to tell them that the
consent had been obtained fraudulently by his three magic monkeys
Chapter Eighteen.
"See
no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil," said Morgana Delacroix to her two
young partners in the basement of the Amorous Goods mansion. "What does it
mean to you?"
Vikki
answered first, with her undergraduate studies in history and a graduate degree
and experience in archiving academic and literary collections. "Most
people tie it back to ancient China and the teachings of Confucius and/or
Buddhism. Either way, we know it best in the west with its treatment in Japan
after Buddhist monks introduced the maxim. And all of that boils down to living
properly. Not taking part in evil or looking for it in others. Don't pre-judge,
don't blindly accept bad things you hear; really look and listen and learn. And
don't speak evilly about other people and ideas, even if you don't agree with
them."
Dylan's
degree was in the much more pragmatic school of business and his post-graduate
studies had been in the cold-blooded arena of deal-making and profit-taking. He
laughed. "Gee, I always thought it was more a code of silence, like among
the Mafia. 'Sorry, Officer, I didn't see anything, I didn't hear anything, and
I'm not saying anything.'"
Morgana
smiled ruefully. "You two have framed it perfectly. From Vikki's side,
imagine a bracelet with a light charm to help its wearer have a more open mind,
not be judgmental of people different from her, and to be more open minded to
new images, sounds and ideas. A very nice charm, intended for good.
But
over on Dylan's side, what if that charm was corrupted so that the wearer
started to lose her sense of right and wrong? What she saw and heard while
wearing the bracelet never seemed evil. And she wouldn't say anything to stop
those acts. She might not even say anything after taking the bracelet off,
because they'd never registered as evil actions."
"How
far could it go?" Dylan asked worriedly. "Is it like the hypnotist we
talked about earlier? You can still only push a person up to their personal
limit, but not beyond?"
"I
think that's why Ludwig put in that question mark in the ledger," the
occultist replied. "I don't think he knew how far past their normal limits
a person would go. Remember that even a non-evil enchantment can make people
admit to and act upon fantasies they'd never really considered before; like the
charmed lingerie. But a truly cursed item could potentially make the wearer
think there was nothing wrong with murder. Or since Ludwig specialized in
erotica, that there was nothing wrong with rape. Even their own. It could turn
a person into a monster or a monster's victim."
Chapter Nineteen.
Sam
went into a frenzy of activity; switching between still and video cameras. He
had So-Young use the different toys in different positions and different
outfits. He had a mental checklist of special requests he'd received from
subscribers and tried to fill as many of those as he could because they would
bring in the biggest tips.
He
had her talk about craving her husband's cock for one audience and then
belittle John's cock for another audience. He kept letting her know how
beautiful, how sexy, how professional she was and how good she was doing with
her photo shoot; her completely normal photo shoot.
She'd
never deep-throated a cock, but now she'd taken three different sized dildoes.
The same was true for her ass. Sam had learned he could get anyone to give up
their ass at least once, but if getting past that initial uncertainty and fear
didn't develop some true pleasure from the act, it was better to let it go,
rather than risk breaking the spell. So-Young clearly had been raised to
believe it was tabo
1 hr 8 min
June 04 Amorous Goods: Three Horny Monkeys Part 1
Amorous Goods: Three Horny Monkeys � Part 1
If nothing is evil,
then it's All Good at Amorous Goods
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
At Amorous Goods
Chapter One.
Vikki
Friday pulled a box off one of the floor-to-ceiling shelves that ran in rows
across the basement of the Amorous Goods mansion and carried it over to a large
oak work table. She took off the lid and was hit with the comfortably familiar
scents of decaying paper and fountain ink one always found in older archives.
The long unopened box also had a dusty odor, which was another normal element
she'd come to expect when wading into a neglected collection like this. Except,
the dusty odor she'd found in the Amorous Goods archive was unlike any she'd
ever encountered before. It was spicy or smoky or flowery; she could never
decide, because it always seemed to be shifting. Sometimes she wished she could
bottle it as a perfume {Or an aphrodisiac! declared her Inner Voice.}, because
it was so heady. Other times she immediately wanted to put the lid back on the
box because the scent was more frightening than arousing {Brimstone!}.
Her
newest partner in this bizarre venture, Morgana Delacroix, said the odors were
a by-product of the spell or curse that lay over so many of the items that
Vikki's far-distant and now-deceased uncle, Ludwig Freitag,
had collected. Ludwig had assembled an incredible variety of items, ranging
from rare manuscripts and Louis the sixteenth furniture to first editions of
Playboy magazine and furnishings from Fannie Porter's Texas brothel where Butch
Cassidy was a favored guest. But ancient or modern, classy or trashy,
everything was united by a theme of love, romance, or sex. According to
Morgana, one of Uncle Ludwig's specialty areas was erotic enchantments, and
items imbued with one of these enchantments raised powerfully amorous feelings
in the people who used them. Vikki had naturally scoffed at such ideas at first
and jokingly called the older woman Morgan le Fay for her witchy beliefs. But
ever since the time Vikki had found herself apparently overcome by that musky
"amorous" odor and succumbing to its influence, she'd had to temper
her usual academic's skepticism.
Vikki
felt a warm feeling creep through her as she remembered that episode. She'd
been here alone in this very room, like now. She'd opened one of the older
specimen cases and found it held a collection of antique dildoes. The scent
that had blossomed out when she removed the lid had hit her like walking into
an Amsterdam coffee shop. An Amsterdam coffee and florist shop, she amended. {A
French whore's bedroom inside an Amsterdam coffee and flower shop!}
By
the time the ventilation system had cleared enough of the odor away to allow
Vikki to regain her senses, she'd found herself lying on this very table. Her
skirt was up around her waist, her panties were hanging from one ankle, and she
had two of the antique sex toys inside her, still moving slowly in and out as
she came down from the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced just from
masturbation.
The
ventilation fan in the ceiling kicked in just then, bringing Vikki out of her
reverie. {That weak, old ventilation fan? You know it didn't save you from the
fumes.} No, each time she'd thought about that episode, she'd become more
certain that while the intoxicating odor had made her head swim and made her
want to touch the dildoes, {And their touch had led to the rest}, it was only
her orgasm itself that had finally broken the spell.
Vikki
hadn't told Morgana or her business partner Dylan about the episode with the
unusual artefacts. {You mean the magic dildoes?} She'd simply cleaned them off
(after putting on heavy rubber gloves over latex gloves), put them back in
their box and moved them to the large walk-in vault that they'd found in the
sub-basement. When she'd updated the collection inventory, Dylan had asked how
she'd known the pieces were among the special items that required locking away.
She'd simply said that the paperwork in the box with the antiques had been
clear enough. Morgana had looked at her suspiciously, but thankfully hadn't
pressed her on the subject.
Now
Vikki literally shook her head and looked into the open box on the table. Just
papers here, no ebony or ivory cockes to entice an
unattached archivist. Pulling on white cotton gloves, she brought out the pages
of the first item and spread them across the table. She would appraise the item
and enter it into the growing index of Amorous Goods holdings on her laptop.
She needed this; a good old-fashioned session of appraising and cataloguing.
Something mundane and pedestrian to help her re-center her mind after their
most recent artefact recovery mission.
Chapter Two.
Vikki
had been sorting through the papers in the box for about half an hour when she
heard the door from the upstairs open. That was followed by footsteps coming
down the stairs and soon Dylan was standing by her side. "The shop's all
locked up for the night, Cousin. Can I interest you in a glass?" He held
up a bottle of red wine he'd carried down with him.
The
two young people didn't share a bloodline, but family marriage ties had brought
them together as kids, when they'd spent several summers together and
"cousins" was what the grownups called them. When Vikki had needed
someone's help managing the expansive business inheritance left to her out of
the blue almost a year ago now, she'd naturally turned to her 'cousin' Dylan.
"Sure,"
she said, peeling off her cotton gloves. "How was business today?"
Since
they could no longer hastily liquidate Amorous Goods or the AG as they'd taken
to calling it, they had to keep the business going and this had become their
division of labor. Vikki worked as quickly as she could to curate the terribly
disorganized collection of items spread across the classic 19th-century
robber-baron mansion, trying to determine what was safe to sell or display and
what needed to be moved down here to the basement or locked in the
sub-basement. Dylan kept the antique store on the ground floor of the converted
mansion, as well as the boutique hotel known as The Amorous Inn on the upper
floors, open, bringing in revenue they needed to stay on top of taxes,
utilities and the expenses of recovering items they had sold in ignorance early
on.
Dylan
chuckled as he retrieved a corkscrew and glasses from a small galley installed
in a corner of the basement. "Apparently, your Uncle Ludwig wasn't the
only old pervert in these parts." He paused as he uncorked the bottle and
poured out two generous balloons.
Even
after several months, it was still hard for Vikki to reconcile that the young
man she'd grown up with as a cousin, wasn't really a blood relative, while some
old German 'Casanova-wannabe', as she thought of him, was. Second uncle,
thrice-removed or some such nonsense, but Ludwig Freitag
had known the link between the Friday and the Freitag
branches of the family tree and had left his odd estate to his distant niece
Vikki.
Dylan
continued his story as he handed Vikki a glass. "We had an entire busload
of senior citizens up from the city; I think they actually came from two or
three different retirement homes."
Vikki's
jaw dropped open as she accepted her wine. "You're kidding, right?"
Dylan
lifted his glass up in a silent toast and said, "I kid you not,"
before taking a long sip. "Blue hair, liver spots, walkers and canes...and
before you ask, no, they weren't here by accident. Naughty old Amorous Goods
was one of the main stops on their itinerary." He took another sip, trying
to wash away the memory of shriveled old ladies cooing over the life-sized
molds of Famous Cocks in History.
"May
we have that sort of energy in 50 years," Vikki said, raising her own
glass in toast to libidos that were not willing to go gentle into that good
night.
"How
about you?" Dylan asked. "Any more possessed lingerie we need to
recover before the new owners turn into streetwalkers?"
"No,
thank God." She shivered, remembering how close the wives of a nearby
town's mayor and sheriff had been to sexually servicing a bunch of guys at a
muscle car convention after they'd picked up some risqu� outfits that had made
their way from the AG to a costume shop in the city.
"But
I have come across an inventory sheet that lists and describes some of the
pieces we sold to that jewelry liquidator in one of the first lots we sent out
the door," Vikki said.
"Okay,
I remember that one," replied Dylan. "It was like nine or ten nice
antique pieces that didn't scream, 'I came from a whorehouse!' right?"
Vikki nodded and Dylan continued. "I thought they were just nice jewelry
that Ludwig and his cronies used as normal bribes to get sex from women. Please
don't tell me they were cursed too? We got a decent price for those and can't
really afford to have to buy them back."
Vikki
still had trouble using the word 'cursed', but was also still unable to offer
any more rational explanations for things like two town matrons in their forties
or fifties offering to let a dozen or more car collectors fuck them in the back
seats of each of their cars. {Or a strait-laced archivist giving herself a
dildo DP right here on this table.}
Chapter Three.
Vikki
took a sip of wine to collect herself and heard the upstairs door opening
again. It was Morgana Delacroix. {Speaking of older women who could still rock
a Madonna bustier hard enough to get conventioneers to shell out a few hundred
dollars for a rumble in the back of their old 55.}
"Perfect
timing," Vikki said to their mentor in the Arcanum of bewitched erotica as
she made her elegant way down the stairs. "I was just telling Dylan about
some new information I've come across that I'm having trouble
understanding."
Dylan
poured out another glass of wine and handed it to Morgana when she reached the
table. The enigmatic beauty smiled her thanks and took a sip. Her smile
widened. "Dylan, my dear, you've been reading those vintner books I gave
you, haven't you? This is delicious."
{He's
blushing!} Vikki was going to have to talk to Dylan. Yes, they'd had to quickly
take Morgana in as a quasi-partner because of her experience and expertise, but
they really still knew very little about her. {Jealous? her pesky voice asked.
He's not a blood-cousin after all, and he is pretty studly.} Vikki tamped the
voice down.
"So;�
the archivist proffered. "I've been looking for information about more of
the stuff we sold from the store and the Inn before we knew the...um...risks.
Well, today I came across some inventory lists and recognized a couple of
pieces of jewelry that Dylan and I sold as part of a larger lot to a liquidator
soon after we took over the AG."
A
look of concern came into Morgana's face. "Anything dangerous?"
"That's
what's got me confused," replied Vikki. She slid one of the sheets she'd
been examining over to the edge of the table so the other two could read it.
"This is an inventory list of small pieces, like jewelry and some of the
curios we've seen on shelves all around the mansion."
"Okay,"
said Dylan, pointing. "I know these three items are in the store in the
Love Potions and Charms display."
"Yes,"
agreed Vikki. "You see the letter 'S' by each one? That indicates they're
in the store. You can also see those three items were apparently all acquired
by AG at the same time, some 5 years ago." She pointed to a column of
dates.
"And
this other date; that's how old the thing is?" asked Dylan. Vikki nodded.
"Damn! Each of those weird little things is more than 125 years old!"
Dylan exclaimed. To Morgana he said, "The only reason we didn't try to
sell those at the beginning is because they were marked with what seemed like
such ridiculously high prices that we didn't know their real value or what we
should ask. Now that we know they really are truly antique I begin to
understand their price tags."
"I
suspect," Morgana replied smoothly, "That their cost is about much
more than just their age. You see the next column?" She pointed at the
paper.
"Yeah,"
he replied. "What does the letter 'E' mean?"
Fortunately,
interpreting someone else's personal shorthand was one of the skills an
archivist developed early on in her studies and Vikki answered.
"It
appears Ludwig had a system of labelling the, er, status of each item as either
Clear, Enchanted, Cursed, or Unknown. You'll notice he used 'K' for Clear,
spelling it 'Klar', like in his native German."
Dylan's
eyes widened. "All three of those pieces are labelled, Enchanted. Holy
shit! You mean they really work? They can really make someone fall in
love?"
Morgana
answered. "Knowing how precise Ludwig was, I'd say, yes, they all have
working love charms on them."
Vikki's
eyebrows went up in automatic skepticism. "Love charms?"
Morgana
smiled. She knew the younger woman couldn't help herself, but she also knew
that Vikki's doubts were being inexorably chipped away by everything she was
seeing around her.
"In
layman's terms, yes," the occultist said. "Now, how well the charm
worked, or for how long, or with what effect could be wildly different. For
example, a skilled and subtle practitioner might cause the recipient of a
charmed gift to simply be more open to the person who gave them the gift;
opening the door for love you might say. On the other hand, a spell applied too
heavily or handled improperly, could turn the object of your affections into an
obsessed stalker."
"But
since these are marked Enchanted rather than Cursed, they shouldn't be too
dangerous, right?" asked Dylan.
"Well,
in general, that's right. But as we've discussed, even a seemingly benign
enchantment can have unintended consequences."
"The
Mayor's wife," said Vikki.
"The
Mayor's wife," Morgana repeated in agreement.
In the Big City
Chapter Four.
The
Mayor's wife wanted to give her husband a special reward for winning his latest
election. She enlisted the help of her friend, the Sherriff's wife, whose
husband had also been re-elected. Because both men had run on law and order
platforms and had made much of their success in getting hookers off the streets
of their small, family-friendly town, the two town matrons decided it would be
funny and fun to give their husbands a bawdy weekend in the big city. They
would tell the men to meet them at a swank hotel for a supposedly normal
celebration and then surprise them by acting like their own high-price call
girls.
The
ladies wanted the proper attire, but didn't want to be seen buying it in their
own town. So, they went into the city a day early, telling their husbands
honestly that they would have one girls' day of shopping before their husbands
came for two days of celebrating their re-elections; out of the public eye of
the people who'd elected them.
A
look through the Yellow Pages led them to an exotic clothing/costume shop near
the edge of downtown, where the neighborhood started becoming more
disreputable. As the women perused the racks of leather and lace, they found
themselves inexorably drawn toward the higher-priced end of the store. They'd
seen camisoles, corsets and bustiers in the earlier
sections, but the elevation of quality in material and workmanship at this end
was obvious even to their unpracticed eyes. It was as if they'd walked from the
Walmart Halloween costumes to Madonna's custom stage outfits.
In
the end, Mrs. Mayor picked out a crimson corset that gave an hourglass shape to
her slightly chubby midriff, but let her big boobs spill over the top
deliciously. Mrs. Sheriff was much thinner, with small tits, but her black
bustier gave her a breath-taking cleavage, like she'd always envied in Mrs. Mayor.
The garments were already partnered with perfectly matched panties, garters,
stockings, sheer robes, and for Mrs. Mayor, a bandage strap bra if she didn't
want to start with her boobs already hanging out over the top of the corset.
In
the end, both women ended up spending far, far more on their costumes than
they'd ever imagined. But after handling them and then trying them on in the
dressing rooms, there was no way they could deny themselves, or their husbands,
the indescribable sensuality of such high-quality lingerie.
As
they walked out the door with their shopping bags, the proprietor was
congratulating herself on scooping up such wonderful pieces at such bargain
prices, and then turning them around with a massive profit. That young couple
at Amorous Goods really had had no idea what they were dealing with when they
let such special merchandise go at such cheap prices.
When
the ladies got back to their hotel, each was eager, almost desperate, to try on
her new outfit again. Fortunately, they could see it in each other's eyes, so
no fake excuses were needed as they parted ways in the corridor and went to
their rooms. Soon the street clothes were off, the whore clothes were on, and
two women in their late 40's were touching themselves in front of their mirrored
closets.
Then
each got the same idea. Her girlfriend hadn't seen her modelling her outfit
when they tried them on at the store. It would be good to compare and see if
her friend looked as hot as she did.
Mrs.
Mayor had quickly discarded the bra when modelling for herself, but thought
that for the sake of modesty as she walked down the hall, she should probably
put it back on.
Mrs.
Sheriff also made a nod to modesty by donning the floor length sheer gown over
her bustier, garter belt and thigh-high stockings.
The
idea that they were considering outfits from The Rocky Horror Picture Show as
modest enough to wear outside their hotel rooms showed just how enchanted their
AG outfits really were.
Mrs.
Mayor took one last look in the mirror and almost decided to lose the bra again
and just let it all hang out. But, in the end, she decided she should wait and
take it off for her girlfriend in Mrs. Sheriff's room. Yes, that would give her
the whole effect. She grabbed her key card, stepped into the hallway and turned
toward her friend's room on the other side of the elevator bank.
Mrs.
Sheriff's gown had no fasteners in the front and was cut to hang open just
outside her tits, but as she modelled in front of the mirror, she decided to
clutch it closed in her hand for now to cover up her new cleavage. Not that she
was embarrassed, hell no. But she pictured knocking on Mrs. Mayor's door and
when her friend opened up, Mrs. Sheriff would let her robe fall open and she
would see her sexy friend's honest, surprised reaction. Mrs. Sheriff was
confident it would be a very pleased reaction.
Morgana
Delacroix would have said the two sexy outfits were drawn to each other and
thus mystically synchronizing the two women's movements, but to Mrs. Sheriff it
was just a pleasant surprise when she stepped out of her room and saw Mrs.
Mayor in the same position some yards down the hall.
The
two women walked toward each other; slowly, sensually, letting the other take
her in step by step. Each immediately recognized that her friend was also
wearing her new outfit and registered all the sexy details as she came closer.
There were two elevators side-by-side in the middle of the hallway and the
women stopped just
0 min
June 03 Amorous Goods: The Victrola Part 2
Amorous
Goods: The Victrola � Part 2
An old record
player and a ring changes their lives.
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
It
was the end of the quarter for us, and I was tied up in meetings and
spreadsheets for several days, making sure everything was as it should be. I
went over all the expense reports, the balance sheets, and the spreadsheets
provided by the various departments. I also spent a lot of time making sure our
tax filings were correct, so I didn't have much time at work to do any research
on the record player.
I
also spent that time watching Terri closely. I noticed some things after a few
days. Call it a trend, if you wish. For starters, she always wore that ring on
the days she went to the Parker house. I also realized that we never had sex on
those days, or most of the other days for that matter, but Never on the days
she wore that ring.
I
also noticed her temperament was quite different on the days she was at the
house. Instead of the carefree, happy woman I married, she seemed distant and
sometimes short-tempered. At first, I thought it was the stress of selling the
place, but she was always under stress to sell more property, so that couldn't
be it. What was so different about those days, I wondered.
I
also noticed that she was spending more days at the Parker house than before,
and she was coming home later and later. Sometimes, she wouldn't get home
before midnight. She always dressed professionally and she never appeared
disheveled when she came home. I never said anything because I didn't want to
set her off. The few times I asked if everything was okay, she simply said,
"just fine," waving me off before she turned and went the other way.
Eventually,
the kids began to notice as well. Both of them came to me, asking if there was
anything wrong between Terri and me.
"It's
just that damn house she's been trying to sell," I told them.
"Well
I hope she sells it soon. It's like she's two different people, and I want our
old Mom back," April said.
"Yeah,
me too," I said.
It
was about the middle of October when things settled down at work. By then, I
had found what I thought might be a solution to the volume issue. I found a
couple websites where people said they used to put socks in the horns to quiet
them a bit. According to one site, that's where the phrase, "put a sock in
it" came from. Whatever works, I thought, but I didn't want to use
anything that might scratch the ornate wooden horn, so I found a nice soft
towel and decided to give that a try.
The
next day, I put the towel in the horn of the old player and tested it with
"Stars and Stripes Forever." Sure enough, it worked like a charm. I
could even open the office door as it played and no one was bothered by it. I
decided to try it with the unlabeled record during my lunch hour.
When
the time came, I grabbed my lunch out of the refrigerator; a sandwich, a
banana, a small bag of chips and a Pepsi; packed by myself, since Terri was too
busy these days to really care about much except her work. I closed the door,
put up my "out to lunch" sign and pulled the shades; a signal to
everyone else to leave me alone; and fired up the player.
I
had just taken a bite out of my sandwich when I heard the voice of a man with a
slight accent come out of the horn.
"Good
afternoon, Mr. Thornton," the man's voice said. I nearly spewed Pepsi out
of my nose when that happened. I looked at the Victrola, shocked. "Yes,
I'm talking to you, Mr. Thornton. Jack, isn't it? May I call you Jack?"
"Uh,
yeah, Jack is fine," I said. "And who are you?"
"I'm
Jonas Parker," the man said.
"But
how can that be?" I asked. "You're dead. Aren't you?"
"It
is true that my physical body no longer functions and is what you would call
'dead,' at least on the physical plane you perceive as reality, but the essence
of who and what I really am continues on," the man said. "You might
call it the soul."
"But
how is that possible?" I asked. The man laughed before continuing.
"What
was it the Bard once wrote?" Jonas asked. "Ah yes, 'There are more
things in heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'
You have no idea how correct he was."
"But
how can you be speaking to me through this phonograph?" I asked.
"Because
it was once mine," he said. "It was in my home for many years and
like so many other things in my home, it has become what you might call
enchanted. Or cursed, as the case may be. Although I am glad it is now in the
hands of someone who appreciates history as you do. I know it will be well
cared for."
"You
still haven't answered my question," I said. "HOW is all this
possible?"
"Very
well," the man said. "I don't have time to explain more than 50 years
of work, but I'll give you a brief synopsis. In 1921 an amateur archaeologist
named Alfred Watkins discovered that ancient sites around the world, both
man-made and natural, seemed to have a form of alignment. When looked at on a
map, they seemed to be arranged in straight lines. These lines were later
called 'ley lines,' and the points where those lines intersect were thought to
be highly charged with pockets of supernatural energy that can be harnessed by
some individuals.
"It
turns out that my house happens to sit at the intersection of six of these
lines. My grandfather was something of a spiritualist in his day, and felt
there was something special about the location, so he built the house there,
long before Watkins made his discovery. Naturally, I took up his work and
traveled the world looking for clues; anything that might give me answers.
"Along
the way, I collected a number of artifacts and trinkets that on their own, held
some amount of power. But when brought together at that location, their power
grew in ways you cannot imagine. I learned to harness the power of those
objects for my own benefit. You see, the so-called 'scientific community'
wasn't interested in hearing about what men like Watkins had to say. They
dismissed it as just so much hokum."
"So
I endeavored to prove them all wrong. I spent over a half century collecting
and researching. I sold many of the items I collected, but there were others I
kept for myself. You wouldn't believe the mountain of information I gleaned.
Eventually, I was able to understand nearly all of it, but there was one step I
had to take before I could realize my ultimate goal," he said.
"What
was that?" I asked.
"I
had to let my physical body die," he said. "So I did. And voila, here
I am."
"You're
mad," I said. He chuckled.
"Perhaps,"
he said. "I've been called that and much worse, by experts. But consider
this. Of the two of us, which one is holding a conversation with a
machine?"
"I
see your point," I said.
"Each
of us has a purpose, Jack," he said. "Mine is to travel the
space-time continuum and enjoy whatever is out there. Yours is to raise your
two children to be responsible adults. And your wife is fulfilling her purpose
even now as we speak."
"What
are you talking about?" I asked, my anger rising.
"Oh
come on, Jack, surely you know what I'm talking about," he said.
"You
mean selling your house?" He laughed out loud.
"Selling
it?" he asked. "Heavens no. She's not selling it. She preparing
it."
"For
what?" I asked. "Quit talking in riddles, dammit!"
"For
our return," he said. "My wife was taken from me years ago by a cruel
disease. In short, I was robbed of a lifetime of love and happiness. I intend
to get that back."
"How
do you plan to do that?" I asked. "And what role does my wife play in
your scheme?"
"I'm
sure you noticed the ring she was given," he said. "The pattern came
from an ancient tribe of people who believed the dead could replace the souls
of the living. The pattern on that ring makes it possible. Your wife's body
will soon host my dear departed wife's soul for good. Haven't you noticed the
changes in your wife recently?"
"I
have," I said.
"That's
because the human mind was not made to house two people," he said.
"My wife's soul is slowly taking your wife's body and mind over. In the
meantime, she's learning to adapt and use what your wife's body has to offer.
And I must say, it's quite exhilarating. Your wife sure knows how to be a wild
woman in bed, the way my Annabelle once was."
"And
what happens to my wife's soul?" I asked.
"Eventually,
it will replace Annabelle's in the great beyond," he said. "Before
long, there'll be no need for the ring. When Annabelle gets strong enough,
she'll push your Terri out completely."
"You'll
never get away with this," I said. He laughed.
"Jack,
Jack," he said condescendingly. "Please don't insult my intelligence.
Look at the big picture here, will you? There's no way you can stop what has
already started. And who would believe you? You'd be sent to a mental
institution, and who would be left to care for your children. Hmm? Why not
simply accept the inevitable and get on with your life? There are other women
out there, you know. Many of them would love to be with someone like you."
"This
can't be real," I said quietly.
"Oh,
but it is real, Jack," he said. "It's as real as it gets. Look, I'd
love to chat some more, but the record finished playing long ago and I really
need to get back to what I was doing. I know this is a lot for you to embrace
at one time. Terri has left a message for you on one of the records you bought
this morning. The label is clearly marked. In the meantime, listen to this;�
His
voice went away and was replaced by moaning and the sound of flesh slapping
against flesh. I could hear a woman's voice in the background and knew it was
Terri.
"Oh
God, yes," she moaned. "Fuck my pussy, Master. Keep fucking me. Cum
inside my slutty cunt." I heard a man groan out loud and then there were
no more sounds. I looked and saw the needle was in the final groove next to the
label. How long had it been there, I wondered. Shocked, I lifted the needle and
stopped the player.
I
pulled the wax record off the turntable and replaced it in its paper sleeve
before putting it away. I looked through the other albums carefully and found
one with an old RCA label marked, "To Jack From Terri." Strange, I
thought. That wasn't there this morning. How could this possibly be? I thought
about playing that record, but had another idea. I had a turntable at home that
could play 78 RPM albums, so I decided I would take the record home and listen
to it there, and if necessary, confront my wife.
I
looked at the time and realized my lunch break was nearly over. Could I really
have been conversing with a dead man through an old phonograph that long?
Stunned and shocked, I tossed the rest of my lunch away and went back to my
desk. I called Terri's office, hoping to speak to her.
"Is
Terri Thornton available?" I asked the receptionist.
"I'm
sorry, Jack, but she's been out all day," the receptionist said. "I
don't expect her back until sometime tomorrow. Can I leave a message?"
"No,
that's alright," I said. "I'll talk to her later." I ended the
call, then pulled out the card and called Vikki.
"Hello,
Jack, I was expecting your call," she said. "Would you like to come
over so we can talk?"
"Yes,"
I said. "How did you know I'd be calling?"
"Call
it a woman's intuition," she said. "I suggest the sooner you get here
the better."
"Okay,
I'm coming right over," I said, ending the call. I went to Alan's office.
He looked at me and invited me inside. I walked in and closed the door behind
me.
"What's
the matter, Jack?" he asked. "You don't look too well. Are you
feeling alright?"
"I
need to take some time off," I said. "Family emergency."
"Well,
you've got comp time coming, and we don't have anything pressing, so go ahead.
Take a few days and get it under control," he said. "If there's
anything I can do, please let me know."
"Thanks,
Alan," I said. "I appreciate that." With that, I went back to my
office, put the record from Terri in my briefcase and headed out. I decided to
drive by the old Parker place to see if she was there. Sure enough, she was. I
could see her car along with another parked in front of the house. I couldn't
get in because the iron gate at the driveway was closed. I looked but didn't
see any signs indicating the place was for sale. Odd, I thought.
From
there, I drove straight to Vikki's shop. I was desperate for answers and I
hoped she could give me some. When I got there, I went inside and saw her
behind the counter. She looked up as I walked inside.
"Good
afternoon, Jack," she said. "I assume you want some answers."
"You
assume right," I said. She nodded her head, went to the door and locked
it, putting up a sign that red, "Closed." She turned back and started
walking to the back of the shop, I assumed, where her office was located. She
stopped and looked back at me.
"Perhaps
you should come with me," she said. I followed her into a small, crowded
office with a desk and three chairs. One of the chairs sat in a corner and was
covered with an afghan. She invited me to sit in the other chair as she took
her place behind her desk.
"I
take it you listened to the record with the blank label," she said. I
nodded my head.
"You
might say that," I said. "More to the point, I had a conversation
with the man who recorded that disk. What can you tell me about your
uncle?"
"Well,
for starters, he was actually my great-uncle; my grandfather's oldest
brother," she said. "He held two degrees. One in archaeology and
another in history. He got married and taught for a while, but after his wife
died of meningitis, he left the college and began exploring the world,
collecting artifacts from all over. About 35 years ago, he finally settled back
into the old house and opened this place. He never remarried and always talked
about how he and his beloved wife would one day be reunited."
"Did
he say how that might happen?" I asked. She shook her head.
"No,
but he did talk a lot about otherworldly things," she said.
"Supernatural things."
"Was
he involved with the occult?" I asked. She shrugged her shoulders.
"I
can tell you that he was accused of that, more than once, and I can tell you he
dabbled in things I never really cared to mess with," she said. I nodded
my head in understanding. "Would you like to see a picture of his
wife?" she asked.
"Sure,"
I said. She turned to her computer and pulled up a digitized black and white
photograph of a stunningly beautiful woman in her mid-twenties. I looked at the
photo in shock. She looked like the spitting image of my Terri. Vikki saw the
expression on my face. I pulled out my cell phone and showed her a recent picture
of Terri. She looked at it, shocked.
"What's
your wife's maiden name?" she asked.
"Hanson,"
I said. Vikki opened another file on her computer.
"Uncle
Jonas was really into genealogy," she said. "He originally had
everything on paper, but put it into a computer a few years before he
died." She pointed at one entry in a box. "This was his wife;
Annabelle. Her maiden name was Simpson and according to this, she had a sister,
Freida. We know Annabelle didn't have any children
and Uncle Jonas never remarried. Let's follow Freida's
line and see what we come up with."
We
both examined the screen, following the lines down through the generations.
Fortunately, there wasn't much to go through, but Vikki found it and pointed to
a box on the screen. I looked and saw it: Terri Ann Hanson. A box next to it
was connected with a line and had my name inside. Below that were the names of
our children.
"There's
your answer," she said. "He was waiting for someone who resembled
Annabelle."
"Do
you have a picture of your brother on here?" I asked.
"Sure,"
she said, going back to the pictures folder. She pulled one up and showed it to
me.
"How
much does he resemble your uncle?" I asked.
"Quite
a bit," she said. "His name is Donald. They were quite close."
"Is
it possible that your uncle had him give her that ring?" I asked.
"Anything's
possible, I guess," she said.
"Did
your uncle keep track of the things he picked up over the years?" I asked
her.
"Yes,"
she said. "Mostly for keeping inventory. It's all here in the database. He
spent years putting it together."
"Can
you search for 'ring' and 'soul' in that database?" I asked.
"Yes
I can," she said, pulling up what looked like a custom program built for a
database. She entered the search terms and hit enter. There were a few items
displayed and most were marked as "sold." The top item, however,
caught my eye. It was the exact ring I saw on Terri's hand. Vikki clicked on
the item description and we red the entry Jonas had input.
"According
to this, he discovered the ring at a dig in central Africa," Vikki said.
"Local legend had it that an ancient tribe used a ring like this to
commune with the dead. The wearer could supposedly channel the spirit of
someone who passed away and even take on some of that person's personality
traits. But there's a warning. If worn long enough, the departed spirit could
displace the spirit of the person wearing the ring."
"Oh
my God," I said. "Did Jonas say anything else? Like, how to reverse
the process?"
"He
has an entry here that gives a chant," she said. "According to Jonas,
it has to be spoken by two females, and one of them has to be related to the
person wearing the ring." Terri's mother lived in Florida, and was too far
to get here in time. But there was one other person. It was a risk, but if we
were ever to get Terri back, it had to be done.
"Would
you be willing to help me break that spell?" I asked.
"Yes,
I would," she said. "But we need two females. Where are you going to
get the other?"
"I'll
have to get her out of school," I said. "Print out two copies of that
chant if you would please. I have to call the school."
"Okay,"
she said. As she did that, I called April's school and told them there was a
family emergency and I needed to pull her out. They wanted to know the nature
of the emergency, and I simply told them it had to do with her mother. The vice
principal I spoke to reluctantly agreed and I said I would there shortly. By
the time I ended the call, Vikki was finished
0 min
June 02 Amorous Goods: Rebranded & Victrola
Amorous
Goods: Rebranded
Sallybot gives her all for the crew.
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
October
1, 12:01 A.M. Greater Magellanic Spiral near the
freshly named planet of Wildhoot. Two trade-named
space vehicles have just concluded a deadly confrontation. One continues
establishing high orbit, the other falls slowly and inertia-less to the
hospitable world below.
The
survivors are in a 4th hand Ford Space Explorer, hard used in many wiper years
of use but lovingly cared for at last by five friends; they pooled their
resources to purchase the tough old battered ship after becoming tired of it
all near the clutter of civilization, extremely bored, between jobs, and
looking to change their fortunes. Setting ship's time and date to GMT, the good
ship Hoochie Mama made way outward through bad
traffic, piloted by Sally, its factory AI, repaired better than new with logic
parts from a very special sexbot.
Harry
became Captain simply because his name was on the title. Maestro claimed
everything under the bonnet and a good deal more. Chyna took the garage. Nonny started an armory. Blynd
worked with all the other four as needed and made music. Tired of it became an
acronym and honorific between them.
Along
the way to this point of time and space, these Toi found themselves accompanied
by a changing number of hangers on, hitchhikers, and fellow wanders called
Interns, during some drunken party when there was enough spirits and frozen
pizza to celebrate life aboard. The name defined them.
There
were adventures and misadventures out to the borders of the Empire. New
friends, breakdowns, refits, slick deals and shitty luck; all shared equally
until at the last Royal outpost, the planet Prime. Down on their luck and a
near empty fuel tank, the opportunity to be persuaded handsomely by HRMN Prime to go search for one of the King's missing
relations: a rather naughty Princess in fact. Crewman Stubbs, a primitive of
some intelligence, was not impounded in gratitude for the favor.
There
was one hell of a party while the Toi used their carte-blanche privileges in
the naval station to outfit and fill the Explorer to bursting for an armed
expedition of some length with the condition W O Thaycher
and his battle-tested squad accompany them in a strictly hush-hush manner.
Fifty
wiper days after a hurried departure they crossed a great empty space. Leaving
wiper drive well short of the intended destination, disguised as inept
tourists, to find they were being stalked by the craft falling away to the
lovely planet selected for a base camp. So our story begins on the far side of
the cold deep gulf between them and civilization.
Cat's Cradle:
The
one thing to be found of interest in the burned out Nissan Star-Tripper, the
object, device, Fay magic, avant garde
art or summat, would be many things to the crew; they
were still scrummy inebriated and Itchy zoned, shocked by the damage done to
the attacking vessel and a little pleased to be on this side of Hoochie Mama's new dreadnought cannons.
Most
of all they would be puzzled about their compulsion to hold and never let go of
the cherry red, squashed, bent, and twisted oblate spheroid still on the dead
Nissan shown on the big galley screen above the dining room. The doomed ship
bounced on the atmosphere of the planet below while 5 Standard shuttles tried
to keep the wreck out of atmosphere until the inspection team finished a hasty
look or retreated. There were cheers when at last the 6th pulled away in a
shower of sparks to be passed by the other 5 still going full throttle as they
released and ran home.
They
would remember the first sight of the artifact when the returning W O
triumphantly reached in a bag, holding his trophy up for all to see; how it
filled them with a sense that all their hopes and dreams would be at last
fulfilled when it was in their possession.
Thaycher was mobbed, losing control as it bobbed away on a
sea of Intern hands, each fairing as well as he to acquire a grip.
Toi
Harry's first indication that something amiss was a screen opening over the
last moments of the Star Tripper; it flashed red alert and began replaying from
the start with his sight.
"It's
loose!" Thaycher's wildly waving arms tried to
reclaim the sparkly What's it? Others reached as it bounced in unforeseeable
directions. The Interns shoaled like fish around the glassy red beauty moving
completely over the entire commons floor, always finding its way back to the
center surrounded by happily adoring gropers hoping for a handhold of
satisfaction. Nonny and Blynd
walked in and were lost to the spell.
"Dum,
ah, hee, I got it!" A crash and amused Interns
laughed. "He, he, he, nope, it's as slippery as a greased shoat at the
fair." Crewman Stubbs watched, waiting to see what this new game was.
"Hayaa!" Nonny joined the
fray as her eyes saw a target long sought but never known, attempting to make
it her own with no luck and much loving cursing.
"Lock
the ship down before anyone else blunders in, Sally. What the hell is it?"
Her voice sounded close by Harry's ears where he lay flat back in the bridge
command chair, no longer sleepily enjoying the end of Operation Planet fall or
watching the fireworks descending prettily.
"Breach
conditions set, Captain sweetie. (kiss sound) The object appears seamless, but
then so does the wall butler, however, there will be a composite rendering
ready to examine if I can capture images of its entirety; one area is being
very difficult to see as many times as it's been around the commons. There is
no way for me to know exactly what it is. I am only the spawn of a Yertsberg and a Ford AI but we're the best you have."
Another
screen opened showing Maestro standing by the rear galley door just up the
corridor from the maelstrom rolling around the commons. Text across the bottom
red, (Your cabin). The screen closed before he could speak. The command chair
returned ready behind the Captain's worried dash past the bridge loo. Sally
opened and closed doors ahead and behind him.
Harry
ran up corridor, away from the bridge, then down the far side of the galley
freezer bins to his cabin on the right, halfway between Hoochie's
skin and the commons; he burst in then straight to the loo. He returned quickly
to find Maestro in a remarkable state of agitation, something unknown in the
wiper ages between them.
"I
don't like that thing, Toi; it's evil. If it gets in here close your
eyes." Harry watched the futile efforts to possess the thing. He didn't
know if it was evil, but it was bad enough to be a weapon if used correctly,
even though it did no direct harm to those enamored with its sight, as yet. "Look
at this."
Maestro
had a second screen opened with Sally�s current information. Harry marked the
resemblance to a cat's ass saddle. He looked to see conformation in the old
Fay's eyes. The puzzle grew deeper.
"How
are we going to get that cat back in the bag? Look at Stubbs." The adopted
creature sat teddy bear like on the floor of the lounge while everyone tried to
catch something she could not see.
"It
must be invisible to her, but how does that help us? What the hell is that
thing, and where are all the rest of us? Ships roster, Sally."
Engineering, Hangar, and Thaycher's squad were all in
their spaces; the nerdy Interns were in a dorm of their own choosing. A screen
showed each in real time with details. He stopped on the scene in the newest
Toi's cabin.
Bridget:
still crying from when the first shot guaranteed no hope of survivors and the
lusty eyes of the man demanding the immediate surrender of the Ford vanished
with the heavy jar and thunder of non-calibrated light cannons.
Once
again violent death marred her otherwise pleasant life on board. Sallybot followed her tearful escape, bio-metric alarms
activated by the young woman's distress; following to give the only comfort it
could. Sex salves many wounds. The bot's mouth attended her wounds while
Bridget sobbed into a pillow, writhing under the treatment.
"Are
we going to watch porn or come up with a plan?" Harry closed that screen
and was left with the last group on the ship numbering 239 Interns, 1 puzzled
Crewman Stubs, 2 Toi, and 1 supernumerary, W O Thaycher.
242 of them were trying to subdue the elusive saddle, Stubs followed behind.
"My
plan is staying far away from that thing." Maestro reopened the view of
Bridget's cabin. "I thought we weren't going to watch porn." Toi
Harry grumbled peevishly.
"No,
look. We can use Sallybot. She's the perfect
solution." A plan was made to see if the device had any effect on it and
then contain the troublesome thing if possible. After Bridget fell asleep on
her tear-stained pillow, the bot covered her with a duvet and left, proving
very quickly the first concern null. Sallybot
followed for a bit. It was poetry watching the sexbot working its way between
the Interns before reaching up and drawing it down to where the hands of the
entranced mob made it difficult for the strongly built sexbot to hold as
command circuitry argued with low charge protocols.
At
last Sallybot curled arms and legs around it; her
form molded itself into a position that occluded all sight of the troublesome
device, ending their desperate attempts to possess it and replacing it with
blind stumbling sexual intoxication. Sally lost all connection to Sallybot, battery gone dead, left an erotic sculpture in
the rudderless throng.
"She's
gone!" There was anguish never heard in the AI's voice, then silence.
Even
unseen, the force of its physic magnetism had them casting sluggishly about in
search of its location, often as not lodged against similar searchers pressing
to pass just past you. In the end they went to the floor, screwing like piles
of blind undulating maggots as the device gave its last gift of rut and all the
sweaty skin of the moaning afflicted shed what little clothes they wore.
Maestro
went with Grom to remove Sallybot
from the mass of bodies in the lounge; it was grunt work shifting the Interns
but, once loaded, a quick trip to the hangar to help Henry put the bot and the
cat in shuttle dock. When at last they were anchored outside, the Interns
slowly orgasmed to puddles of deep sleep. They would remember little except
that first glimpse and their loving mates trying to help them catch it. Private
bits warming and the machinery between their flushed ears made that memory
slip.
House cleaning:
The
Toi remaining met in the wardroom. Nonny and Blynd still lay sleeping in one of the piles with Thaycher; a sad smile on a face exhausted beyond
recognition.
Chyna,
looking singed from dragging the last searchers inside his shuttle and haul ass
away, narrowly escaping the fireworks preceding crash and burn, but extremely
clean having missed the second event while in the shower with a few Interns to
soap him down.
Maestro
at Harry's right, grim faced, holding the bag Thaycher
unknowingly drew the cherry red curiosity from. He closed his eyes, reached
inside, and pulled out the only thing left.
The
goggles had milky white lenses, the material opaque to look at, but transparent
when worn. The fact that they were in the same bag suggested some nullification
of the visual lock of the cherry red amulet and were very sexy to boot. The
frame had deep engraved AG on either temple of the slick ruddy unknown gleaming
metal.
"I
want a pair of these." Chyna snagged them first and opened a screen to
admire his image wearing the pimped-out shades that seemed made perfectly for
his face. The pimp goggles were reluctantly passed around, each new wearer
appearing to have a similar fit.
Maestro
watched the replay from the start through them. The object lost most of its
glint and color but the commons and school of seekers appeared as usual to him.
He gave a start then dashed out the server's door.
"Toi
Maestro, what the hell? Where is he going, Sally?"
"He
says he has an idea and to carry on, Captain sweetie." (kiss sound) The
Toi were left alone with no further information. It was Chyna who spoke first,
tiredly and with some ire while looking at the door the old Fay went through so
quickly.
"He
took the goggles with him. We need coffee." They went to the galley for
fresh brew and nibbles as the hours of late night turned to early morning. The
view over the servers' line as they sipped from temperature controlled cups was
surreal; so unlike any of the great parties that had ended on that floor. An
erotic odor of sweat-slicked skin while they moved in sleep came in the
opening. Vacfiber softly hissed like a lullaby as it
removed spent fluids.
Toi
Chyna closed the opening with a shudder and turned away. The sight was gone but
the smell drove them away from the preparation table, holding their snacks and
cocks against the musk behind them, escaping the close confines. Sally guided
them through a maze of engineering spaces to where Maestro tinkered with a
device enabling the AI to look through the goggles at the entire replay. He
gave a lecture while thus engaged about spectrums, wave lengths, and ju ju optics.
On
a screen, the composite image changed in glints and sparks as Sally sped
through the library of multiple views of the release and capture until the last
portion of the enchanted sex toy was revealed; a golden rectangular plate,
incorporated along the curve of the twisted shaft connecting the two ends.
Cherry red Amorous Goods filled the the channels of
metal seamlessly. A long line of numbers and symbols suggesting an astronomical
location ran under the caption. Toi Harry began making plans.
Reset:
"Time
to unload and ponder while we square away. All Interns left will begin moving
the stricken to showers and racks. Thaycher squad
will retrieve and tuck him in then set tight. I'm going to wake Toi Bridget so
she can catch up. Shore leave for the others as they wake. Anything else
Maestro, Chyna?" Maestro walked out, again silent. The screen of the
completed curse closed behind him.
"Yeah,
is he finished with the goggles? We should have everyone sight free wearing
Mark 7 coveralls so we can tell who our specialists are. Cancel breach
conditions so I can get my Specialists moving."
"Sally,
pass the word to those left; start a replay on Bridget's screen, tell her I'm
coming if she asks or tries to screen me. Now get me out of here." Bridget
met him just outside her door, pale and drawn. Together they began the long job
of restoring a sense of normalcy to the areas affected by the ordeal and a
sense of excitement for the awakening victims as they hurried them to waiting
shuttles
Post capture:
October 8,
Aboard
the Hoochie Mama things were different; so different
that Harry was rethinking the decision to quarantine so many below for the
sheer reason it was empty as hell with all of those poor souls, gone but not
quite haunted, safe in a virgin paradise or summat. Nonny and Blynd were happy to go
and Crewman Stubbs with them.
Everyone
left was on a common circuit now, easier that way with so few. It was too
quiet; a lot better after all moving closer together, closer forever now. He
tried to name them off in his mind, there was Chyna and Hank, Maestro, Grom, and Thaycher, unable to be
left behind and carefully tended by his squad, whose names seemed to change
daily. Anise, Fred, Dave, Cheryl, Debbie, Deborah, and a couple of more he
hadn't sussed out yet.
Bridget
moved into Nonny's cabin, next to his, empty now of
all the knives, spears, bows, energy guns and weapons strange to behold. She
talked Maestro into making a connecting door into Harry's room as a
modification. Soon the first class cabins close to the central shaft were changed
into other systems to fit the needs of the Specialists and Toi. The commons and
galley were changed as well.
Dining
was greatly abbreviated; gained space became a grand cozy party area below the
big screen above. Chyna set up in the spaces beside the hangar booth. One floor
up, Thaycher and his squad rearranged the weapons
suites. Through it all Maestro worked tirelessly to accommodate requests and
improve conditions aboard. When asked how so much was done in such a short time
he replied 'It's amazing what you can do with a Plexiwelder
and no interruptions.' Life became routine while preparing.
Preparations:
Harry
shrugged off the Mark 7 coveralls, sighing as the wall butler snagged the
discarded garment leg, drawing it inside to be cleaned and presented fresh for
inspection the next time it was opened. Slowly walking to the shower and
running an unusual amount of hot steamy water and Sudz
to wash off the last two hours of exercise by the abusive, Ustis
Thaycher, channeling his angst into teaching all
specialist members and Toi for the expedition. Maestro was his pain partner in
last place on the corridor runs.
"I
really miss Sallybot." He shut off the shower,
wrung out his hair and walked away dripping the water normally removed by the
inert sexbot outside. He rolled on the vacfiber
floor, letting it suck the moisture from his body. Sally spoke above the hiss
of the fabric.
"Me
too, Captain sweetie. (kiss sound) I could feel through her fingers and body,
experience some of what she was doing; even use her in some particular fashion
to fulfill my own curiosity at some of the descriptions in the user
manual." Harry could only imagine what descriptions could be found the
voluminous manual that Yertzberg was rumored to have
written. "I'm so pleased Sallybot lasted long
enough to immobilize the thing." There was pain behind the simple
declaration.
"She's
a Hero and you are too. We're going to find out how to get her back. Bridget
walked in the adjoining door, stripped her sweaty Mark 7 's off, and seated
herself on Harry.
Recce:
"So
how are we going to do this?" Harry asked. The remaining crew were all
gathered in the new screen lounge. Maestro, Thaycher,
and Sally began explaining the process designed to inspect the co-ordinates
found on the cat saddle. It sounded pretty simple but the reality was another
thing. The big Ford torroids spun up as Hoochie raced to threshold for the first quick look.
They
left wiper drive some distance from the target. The torroids
gave off a tooth-grinding wail as they were fed just enough thorium to hover
below threshold. Harry gritted his teeth against the first in your face
discomfort of near threshold as they stayed just on this side of normal space
and all was the monochrome gray as a few eerie ghosts of Specialist laggards
fled abed.
"Mapping."
Sally reported ship wide then a pause of seconds that felt like much more
before the instant cold gray of wiper space that was almost a relief before the
next jump. In all there were five; one more than their plan had called for then
Hoochie was near Wildhoot
again with the torroids winding down, taking all that
discomfort away except for normal wiper landing nasty headaches. The last gray
hell lasted twice as long then the cold of wiper space descended for the trip
back to Wildhoot.
"I'd
rather go back and fight Assholes than do that again
1 hr
June 01 Amorous Goods: The Pendant of Min & The Ring - Part 2
Amorous
Goods: The Ring - Part 2
Why do her boobs
look bigger?
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
Back
home, the five us of smoked a little weed, and drank either Bourbon, Scotch, or
Tequila, depending on one's taste. I'm a Tequila girl, myself. Rod and Cole
went for the Bourbon, Dan went for the Scotch, and Becca just kept smoking.
The
obvious began. Dan and Becca were on the couch, and they started making out a
bit. It was just kissing, and Dan was feeling up Becca's boobs through her
clothes, but it was enough for Rod to get started with me. I had decided
tonight was the night Rod would get what he had been wanting, but I was a bit
put off by Cole being there. I knew I wasn't put off enough by Cole being
there, and that troubled me. I was having meta discomfort! Becca and Dan were
in their own world, and I guessed they would soon move to my bedroom, and they
did.
I
was now alone with Rod and Cole and Rod was kissing me, then Cole would turn my
head and he would kiss me, and then Rod again, and then Cole again, and I was
beginning to get dizzy. Each man had his own style, and as they kissed me, my
clothes gradually left my body. Rod had rendered me naked on our previous date,
but we didn't have sex, at least not in the Biblical sense. Cole had already
seen me naked, along with everyone else at the Halloween party, but this was
different because it was in an intimate setting.
As
if to underscore the intimacy, I quickly had four hands exploring every square
inch of my body. Rod went for my boobs, and Cole went for my feet. It was
pretty clear Cole had a foot fetish. I mean, the loving way he was caressing my
feet, kissing my toes, complimenting me on my toenail polish, and just
caressing them beautifully, over and over again, left no doubt at all about his
fetish.
I
was proud of my toenail polish. I had a fly painted onto each of my big toes.
Classy, right?
That's
when it happened. I realized this had happened to me before. When I had gone to
that party at Purdue, seven years earlier, when I was only eighteen, two men
had taken me to a bedroom and had begun to make out with me. I had been up for
it, eager to experience sex, and the two of them had teamed up to get me naked,
save for my panties, and then one man went for my boobs, while the other went
for my feet, and all the while they were both kissing me, sometimes on the
mouth, other times anywhere they wanted to kiss me. It had all happened before.
The
problem was I could not remember the faces nor the names of the two men. I
didn't even remember having had sex with them, although it was of course
obvious I did, since I became pregnant. The only thing I could remember was the
word "Cod." Now I was living through the same experience. Was it
possible it was a coincidence?
I
stood up, pushing them away. "Where were you, seven years ago?" I
asked.
"What?"
they replied together.
Oh
my God, Cole and Rod? Could that be the mythical Cod? Was it these two men to
whom I gave my virginity? Did they both enjoy me; that way; or was it just one
of them? I shivered at the thought that my first (and only) time could have
been a threesome!
I
was back on the floor. Cole was still going at it with my feet, but Rod
apparently was a more conventional man. Rod removed my panties (I raised my
hips to help him do it, even) and subsequently he was spreading my legs. Cole
now (finally!) left my feet and moved to my mouth and my tits. Uh-oh, it was showtime.
Rod
was fingering me as if he were a brain surgeon, as it seemed to be his fingers
had extraordinary delicacy and talent! I knew I was turned on; hell, everyone
did. I could hear the sloshing sounds of my own lubrication. I hoped Rod was
the kind of guy who would replace his fingers with something else, something a
little bigger perhaps, at some point? I was on the pill. I was ready. I was
more than ready! Hell, I was eager.
Rod
must have red my mind. It's also possible he had simultaneous, independent
discovery of what turned out to be; quite simply; a wonderful idea. He adjusted
his body, getting into position, and while I didn't actually lay eyes on his
cock, it was no secret to me where it was, and where it was about to go! I felt
as if this were my first time. In some sense, it was, since I had no memory of
the sexual act the only other time, when I had become pregnant.
My
goodness, it felt wonderful. Rod entered me and I lost it. I tried to speak,
but Colm's tongue was in my mouth. I was reduced to
moaning. Rod's cock sliding into me, and then sliding back out, or almost back
out, and then plunging back in, slowly increasing the speed, was sending
ripples of some special kind of pleasure running through my body. I was bucking
my pelvis up and down to match his thrusts. My enthusiasm was unbridled.
I
didn't fully comprehend it all at the time, but having one man give you a fuck
from heaven, while another man was playing with your tits and kissing you, was;
for me; perfection itself. It was only around two minutes after the fuck began
when I climaxed, moaning into Colm's mouth, as his tongue
was engaged with mine. I could feel Colm's hard cock
against my outer thigh as Rod repeatedly plunged his cock into me. I knew I
could never forget this!
Rod
had never asked where to cum, but I was glad when he chose to cum inside me,
just like the mythical "Cod" must have done seven years earlier. When
he was done, there was still Colm, as hard as a rock,
looking at me expectantly. I figured he wanted to fuck me too, and as I was
wondering if I could emotionally deal with that, my bracelet once again entered
my head. I knew what to do.
I
moved around so that I held Colm's thick cock between
my feet, and I caressed it with my toes. I had never done anything like this
before, nor had I ever even thought about doing it, and yet, it seemed
familiar, as if I had done it before. It's not the same as jerking off a guy,
because your feet can't grab the cock, unless you're a monkey or something.
It's just fondling and gently caressing, but with your toes, with my elegant
nail polish, and not my fingers. Luckily, I had enjoyed a wonderful pedicure,
just by chance, two days earlier, so my feet were all smooth and feminine.
Funny, I had splurged for the pedicure on impulse, which is not like me. Could
it have been due to my ring, too?
Colm, to my surprise, squirted up into the air, just from
the caresses of my toes and feet! After he squirted, Rod moved me around, and
he fucked me a second time! This time he lasted a good, long time, maybe twenty
minutes or more, and by the time he finished, I realized I had an audience of
three naked people: Dan, Rebecca, and Colm.
Rebecca
was sitting on the couch in between Dan and Colm, and
she had her right hand wrapped around Dan's cock, and her left hand wrapped
around Colm's thick cock, and she was jerking them
both, and at the same time! Whoa, Rebecca! You go, girl! I was super turned on
that the three of them had watched us fuck.
I
was tempted to fuck Colm, too, but he seemed happy as
it was, so I just relaxed and enjoyed the afterglow of Rod's amazing second
fuck, which had driven me to two more orgasms. I think I dozed off a bit.
"You
know, sweet Michelle, you remind me of my dream girl," Rod said, when we
were all awake and dressed, at least to some extent. I had my panties and a
T-shirt on, no bra, and so too did Becca who had borrowed one of my T shirts,
and the men were back in their Halloween costumes.
"That's
nice, I suppose. What happened to your dream girl? Maybe you should be fucking
her instead of me?" I said, showing my annoyance at Rod's idiotic remark.
Ignoring
my remark made in anger, Rod continued, "It was seven years ago. Cole and
I went to a Halloween party at Purdue. We were students at Butler University in
Indianapolis, but Purdue had the famous Halloween party. Girls went to it from
all over. Anyway, we got lucky, and met this super-hot freshman. She too was
named Michelle. She had a pretty face, similar to yours, but a very different
body. I was smitten."
"How
was her body different?" I asked.
"This
will sound crude, but she wasn't built like you, my lovely. She was flat
chested, and had almost no ass. I didn't care, because she was totally my dream
girl. It was love at first sight, maybe for both of us," Rod said.
"Did
she fuck like me?" I asked.
"Funny
you should ask. Yes, exactly! And she was a virgin, too, at the time," Rod
said.
"Her
feet were like yours, too," Cole piped up. "Her adorable little toes
curled up when Rod fucked her. I kissed her while Rod and her fucked, just as I
did with you, and she didn't mind at all. She seemed up for anything with the
two of us. We've never met another girl like her, ever again, until
tonight."
"Did
you both fuck her?" I asked.
"Well,
first she played with my cock with her toes. That's when I developed my foot
fetish, I guess. Maybe I had always had it, I don't know. But yes, after Rod
fell asleep, I fucked her, too. Boy, could she fuck! She was my first, you
know. Rod had been around the block, but Michelle was my first girl,
ever," Cole said. "You never forget your first. I'll never forget my
second, either," he added, looking me in the eyes, then letting his eyes
wander down to my toes.
"Some
people forget their first," Becca said from the couch, and I shot her a
death ray with my eyes.
"What
happened after that night? Did you continue to date her?" I asked. I had always
wondered why I had never heard from the guys who fucked me at that Halloween
party, seven years earlier.
"Oh,
I tried," Rod said. "Every weekend I'd head up to Purdue, looking for
her. I'd party hop, hoping to find her at a party, and I'd walk around the
campus looking for her. She never told us her last name, or anything,
basically. I never found her. Cole looked, too."
"I
sure did. We spent the last two years of college looking for her, it
seemed," Cole added.
"Really?"
I felt much better to hear that.
"Listen,
Michelle, you helped me get over my fixation on my dream girl from college. I'd
love to keep dating you. May I?" Rod asked.
"Yes,"
I said.
"Can
I come along on the date?" Cole asked.
"No,"
Rod and I said together. Cole looked crestfallen, the poor guy.
"Look,
Colm, how about we meet up, the three of us, for
brunch some Sunday, and I'll wear open toed sandals, and play footsie with you
under the table? I mean if Rod is okay with it?" I offered.
Colm's face brightened up considerably. We both looked at
Rod. He nodded. Com exhaled, and he replied, "I'd love that."
"Why
didn't you tell Rod and Cole you were their dream girl from seven years ago?
It's obvious you were," Becca asked me, when we met the next day for
lunch.
"I
want Rod to like me for me, not because I'm the incarnation of some fantasy
he's been having since forever," I said. "And I certainly never want
to tell him he knocked me up that night. If it was him. It seems Cole fucked
me, too."
"So
it sounds like you're taken with Rod," Becca said.
"It
seems so, at least for now. He's quite a strange guy, you know, and I'm not
sure I like strange," I said.
"Are
you okay with me seducing Colm?" Rebecca asked.
"Sure,
it would relieve the pressure on me, to fuck him, too, which is not going to
happen; but what happened to Dan?" I asked.
"It
turns out Dan is married. His wife was out of town. It's too bad," Becca
said.
"How
was his cock?" I asked.
"You
saw it; it didn't live up to the promise of his big nose, alas. When it was
inside me, however, it was perfection itself. I came three times during one of
his fucks alone!" she said.
"How
many times did he fuck you?" I asked.
"Four.
Can you believe it?"
"Four?
You didn't have time for four fucks!" I exclaimed.
"He
drove me home, remember?"
"Oh.
Right," I said. "You going to keep seeing him, on the down low?"
"No
way, no how. He wants to see keep seeing me, but I don't fuck married men.
Knowingly, that is," she said.
"Right."
"Colm, on the other hand;�
"He's
all yours," I said. "I promised him, though, to fondle his cock with
my toes at brunch on Sunday. Say, why don't you join us? My toes will get him
going, and then you can fuck him?"
"Where,
in the ladies' room of the brunch place?" Becca sarcastically asked.
"Sure,
why not?" I replied.
"Michelle,
your new jewelry is giving you one hell of a dirty mind!" Becca said.
"You need to get a grip."
"Are
you here to return the jewelry?" Vikki nervously asked, when Becca and I
showed up at her store.
"No,
I'm keeping it. Fabulous stuff," I said. Vikki smiled, and it seemed to be
a smile of relief.
Becca
was wandering around the store, checking out some dining tables.
"I
have a question, Vikki," I began. Vikki encouraged me, so I told her the
story; all of it.
"Has
your memory of your first time returned yet?" she asked.
"No,
and I still don't know why, but that's not the question," I said. Vikki
waited patiently, and I continued. "The ring and the bracelet wanted Becca
and me to go to a club, the week before Halloween, and so we did. There I met
the very same Rod and Cole I've just told you about. My question is this: Could
the ring and bracelet have somehow known about my Halloween deflowering seven
years earlier, and arranged somehow; I have no idea how; for me to meet the two
men again?"
"No,
of course not. The ring and bracelet couldn't possibly have those extraordinary
powers, such as you ascribe to them," Vikki replied.
"Okay,
then," I said, relieved in a way. It would be scary if this had all been a
set-up via the jewelry.
Becca
interrupted. "Is this Louis the thirteenth buffet enchanted? I'd like to
have a man be compelled to fuck me, bent over a beautiful buffet like this
one." The price, I had noted earlier, was $4,000. It's a good thing Becca
is rich!
Vikki
and Becca discussed things for a while. I heard Vikki remind Becca that she
didn't know which items were charmed, and which were not. "This other
buffet, also Louis the thirteenth, however, should do the trick. It was
returned for just that reason. So many men had fucked the woman who bought it,
that she was going crazy. She claimed almost every man who entered her house
fucked her, including her neighbor and his son, and both of them at the same
time! Every man, that is, but her husband. I can let you have it for
$100."
"Sounds
perfect. I'll take it," Becca said, as I just stared at her. Becca could
really surprise me at times. "Colm," Becca
said to me, as if that were an explanation, upon seeing my stare of
incomprehension. Vikki smiled broadly. I made a mental note to keep Rod out of
Becca's apartment.
Vikki
then turned to me. "No, the ring and bracelet could not have arranged for
you to meet this guy Rod in a club. No, that would have to have been the doings
of the necklace. You see, you need the added power of the gemstones for that
kind of magic. I'm sure my Great Aunt Elizabeth would be thrilled to hear about
your subsequent happiness. We have some ruby and jade encrusted earrings, too,
if you're interested?"
To
be continued, in the series, Amorous
Goods; a collaborative storyline for Literotica
Amorous Goods: The Ring - Part 1
Why do her boobs
look bigger?
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

"Are
you sure this is the right way?" Rebecca asked me.
"No,
not really, Michelle. It's a small town around here somewhere, though," I
said.
"What's
it called, at least? There's a signpost coming up," Rebecca said.
"Middletown,
what else? It's right, smack, dab in the middle of nowhere," I said.
"You
got that right," Rebecca replied. "Remind me again why we're doing
this? And Michelle? Please don't say again, it came to you in a dream!"
"I
told you: I saw a little squib about an estate sale in Middletown. We haven't
been to an estate sale in months, and I'll just bet there's some great antiques
there. I know you love antiques. Hell, we both do! Also, it came to me in a
dream," I said. Rebecca was looking at Google Maps on her phone.
"Take
your next left," she said. Then she glared at me.
"Boy,
this town is small! It's got like five stores total, and that includes the
grocery store and the general store. This place has to be it," Rebecca
said.
"Yep.
See the small sign in the corner of the window? It says Estate Sales." I
replied.
"The
sign above the door, painted rather poorly I might add, says Amorous Goods.
What the bleep does that mean?" Rebecca asked. "At least they spelled
Amorous correctly."
"Let's
go inside and find out," I said, and I opened the door, causing a small
bell to tinkle. A thirties something woman emerged from a back room, sweeping
her dirty blonde, longish hair from out of her right eye, and she looked at us
squarely.
"Welcome
to my store, Amorous Goods. I'm Vikki," she said.
"I'm
Michelle, and this is Rebecca. We thought the store was called Estate Sales R Us.
Is this not an estate sales store?" I asked. I was confused, because what
was inside the store looked exactly like the estate sales Rebecca and I have
enjoyed haunting for the last couple of years, but the store name didn't fit.
The furniture was so pretty, my mouth was watering. My apartment was still
seriously under furnished. It's hard, when all that you want is antiques.
"Oh,
yes, definitely, but now I've devoted it to just one estate: that of my Great
Aunt. She was a collector, you see, and what you see here is only around a
tenth of her collection! Her estate will keep me occupied for years, I
guess," Vikki said.
"Why
did you rename the store Amo
0 min
May 31 Amorous Goods: The Mirror & The Ring Part 1
Amorous
Goods: The Mirror
Middle-aged man buys
an intriguing object.
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
The
bell above the door chimed as JT walks into the store. JT is an overweight
middle aged man. His thin brown hair was falling out, leaving him with a big
bald spot on top of his head. His brown eyes were flat and lifeless as if the
world had completely broken him. His clothes mismatched and making him look
decidedly worse rather than better.
Vikki
greets him with her usual bright cheery smile. Her voice sounding clearly from
the back of the store.
"Welcome
to Amorous Goods. Is there anything I can help you find?"
"No
thanks. I'm just looking." JT says.
JT
walks around the store at a leisurely pace. Stopping on occasion to look at something
or another.
He
comes to a full length mirror. Something about it catches his attention. He
looks into the mirror and sees a gorgeous woman. He looks behind him, but
there's no one there. He turns back to the mirror, and she is still there.
Her
legs are impossibly long. The black stiletto heels showing them off to their
best advantage. His eyes tracing up them. He imagines how they would feel
wrapped around him. Squeezing him as he pleasures her.
Her
short black dress fits her body like a second skin. Hugging her curves and
barely containing her big tits. For several minutes he watches the rise and
fall of her tits. Each time she breaths in it looks like her tits will simply
fall out of that dress.
He
finally makes way to her face. Her sweet angelic face. Her ruby red lips are
full and so kissable that he wants to dive into the mirror just to start
kissing her. Her hauntingly beautiful blue eyes seem to promise all sorts of
pleasures. Her scarlet hair falling down almost to her waist in waves.
The
girl in the mirror smiles at him. He feels like he is the only person to ever
get to see that smile. His heart races as he continues to stare at her. His
cock straining against his pants. He tries to readjust, but it does no good.
Her
mouth opens and she mouths something to him. He watches her lips closely. She
mouth something to him again.
"Buy
the mirror, and I will be yours." Her smile seductive.
JT
nods his head, and her image disappears. The last part to fade away is her ruby
red lips.
"Excuse
me Ms." JT calls out.
"Yes
sir." Vikki says as she comes from behind the counter.
"I
was wondering how much this mirror is?" He states.
Vikki
looks for the tag but isn't able to find one. She looks the mirror over as if
trying to decide something.
"How
does a hundred sound?" She asks after a few moments.
"I
can do that." He states as he reaches back for his wallet.
Vikki
takes hold of the mirror and rolls it with her to the front counter. She rings
it up, and JT hands over his debit card.
He
impatiently waits for the transaction to go through. When it does he signs the
receipt and takes the mirror back home. The entire way he swears he can feel
warmth coming from the mirror, yet the woman is not there.
When
he gets home, JT puts the mirror in his bedroom. He sits down on the bed and
looks into the mirror. Slowly the woman comes back. It looks as if she's
sitting on the bed next to him. JT looks next to him but of course she isn't
there.
He
looks back at her. "I want you." He confesses. "Will you come out
of the mirror?"
She
gives him a smile and points up. JT looks up and sees writing on the frame of
the mirror. He thinks it might be writing but it is in a language that he
doesn't know.
"I
don't know what I'm supposed to do." He says. His voice full of despair
and longing.
She
makes a gesture with her hands and mouths a few words. JT watches her.
Wondering what she's doing. She points up again. This time when JT looks up he
can read what is written.
"From
the inverse of time and space, I free you. Come to me Xenova."
He recites.
Xenova steps out of the mirror. Her perfect body moving
with a fluid grace that any athlete would love to have. Her blue eyes locked on
his.
"Oh
Master. Thank you for freeing me from that awful mirror. An evil wizard trapped
me in there, ages ago. I am yours now and forever more." She says right
before leaning in to give him a kiss.
Xenova presses up against JT Pressing him back onto the
bed. She straddles him. Kissing him passionately. JT responds in kind. Kissing
her. His hands caressing her back through the material of her black dress.
Xenova sits up, pulling her dress up over her head. JT
marvels at her lithe body. Her full perky tits. Her sleek midriff.
He
moans with desire and rolls her over so he's on top of her. Starting at his
lips he kisses his way down her magnificent body.
He
quickly undresses. Watching her reaction to see if she's put off by his naked
body. Just the opposite though. She stares at him while biting her lower lip.
Reaching up she pulls him back down on top of her.
She
reaches down between them, and takes his fully erect cock into her hands.
Squeezing it ever so gently as she guides him inside her.
JT
gasps in delight as he slides inside her. He delights in how she is just tight
enough for him to slip inside of, yet also tight enough that there is
frictions.
JT
starts pounding into her. Her cries echoing in his small bedroom. J Tee�s mind
a complete blank as his body takes over.
A
loud frantic knock sounds just as JT is about to finish. JT tries to ignore it.
Nothing is more important to him at that moment then filling her with his seed.
"Sir?
It's Vikki. From Amorous Goods. It's imperative that I speak with you. That
mirror you bought wasn't supposed to be on the floor yet. A Succubus was
trapped inside and I haven't had time to get her out yet."
Something
about the word succubus filled JT with dread, yet he couldn't stop himself. His
need for her so absolute that nothing else mattered.
JT
felt his body clench as he began to cum. Xenova
holding him against her as he squirted thick stringy ropes of cum into her.
JT
could hear Vikki trying to get into the apartment, but he couldn't move. Xenova opened her mouth and sucked his soul from his body.
When she finished his body had shrunken. His life extinguished.
Xenova got up and got dressed again. Vikki and another guy
burst in just as she finishes dressing. She smiles at them, and jumps out the
window. Vikki runs to the window and looks out. Watching as Xenova
flies away.
"Come
on Mark. I guess we better find out what to do about this one. You really need
to be more careful with what you put on the floor to sell."
To
be continued, in the series, Amorous
Goods; a collaborative storyline for Literotica
Amorous Goods: The Ring - Part 1
Why do her boobs
look bigger?
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

"Are
you sure this is the right way?" Rebecca asked me.
"No,
not really, Michelle. It's a small town around here somewhere, though," I
said.
"What's
it called, at least? There's a signpost coming up," Rebecca said.
"Middletown,
what else? It's right, smack, dab in the middle of nowhere," I said.
"You
got that right," Rebecca replied. "Remind me again why we're doing
this? And Michelle? Please don't say again, it came to you in a dream!"
"I
told you: I saw a little squib about an estate sale in Middletown. We haven't
been to an estate sale in months, and I'll just bet there's some great antiques
there. I know you love antiques. Hell, we both do! Also, it came to me in a
dream," I said. Rebecca was looking at Google Maps on her phone.
"Take
your next left," she said. Then she glared at me.
"Boy,
this town is small! It's got like five stores total, and that includes the
grocery store and the general store. This place has to be it," Rebecca
said.
"Yep.
See the small sign in the corner of the window? It says Estate Sales." I
replied.
"The
sign above the door, painted rather poorly I might add, says Amorous Goods.
What the bleep does that mean?" Rebecca asked. "At least they spelled
Amorous correctly."
"Let's
go inside and find out," I said, and I opened the door, causing a small
bell to tinkle. A thirties something woman emerged from a back room, sweeping
her dirty blonde, longish hair from out of her right eye, and she looked at us
squarely.
"Welcome
to my store, Amorous Goods. I'm Vikki," she said.
"I'm
Michelle, and this is Rebecca. We thought the store was called Estate Sales R Us.
Is this not an estate sales store?" I asked. I was confused, because what
was inside the store looked exactly like the estate sales Rebecca and I have
enjoyed haunting for the last couple of years, but the store name didn't fit.
The furniture was so pretty, my mouth was watering. My apartment was still
seriously under furnished. It's hard, when all that you want is antiques.
"Oh,
yes, definitely, but now I've devoted it to just one estate: that of my Great
Aunt. She was a collector, you see, and what you see here is only around a
tenth of her collection! Her estate will keep me occupied for years, I
guess," Vikki said.
"Why
did you rename the store Amorous Goods?" Rebecca asked. "We almost
drove right past it."
"I
did it as a warning. My Great Aunt Elizabeth Jackson Howe was an enchantress,
you see, and a random subset of her estate is magically charmed. Don't worry,
though, she was a good witch. You have nothing to fear, unless you're averse to
sex and love, and nobody really is, right?" Vikki said.
Vikki
said it fast, nervously. Actually, I felt she was a highly nervous person. Her
hair was back in her eyes. She nervously brushed it away again. I idly wondered
how many times each day she did that?
"Anyway,
look around, and I hope you enjoy yourself. I'll be in the back room in case
you need me for questions, okay? Just ring the bell," Vikki said,
gesturing to a chiffereau in the center of the store,
which had a cleverly positioned bell in it. The chiffereau
was made of bird's eye maple, and polished to a shine.
We
both said thanks, and we began to look around. Clearly Vikki was a little nuts,
but the pieces at the estate sale of her Great Aunt Elizabeth were stunning,
and looked to be worth a fortune. They were priced accordingly, however, and
were way out of my range. Rebecca was rich (inherited money) however, and she
looked over things carefully, while I just walked around and drooled.
I
was disappointed. The whole point of estate sales, as opposed to antique shops;
was to find fabulous bargains, and clearly there were none here to be had.
None, that is, until I got to the jewelry counter. There was a ring made of 14
carat solid gold, with diamonds encrusting one small part of it, and the price
was $100. It was priced at least ten times too little; many even twenty times,
fifty times, or more! It came with a matching bracelet, and necklace. They too
were priced absurdly low.
I
called Vikki but she must not have heard me, for she did not come. I finally
thought to ring the little tinkling bell on a shelf of the chiffereau,
as she had said we should do. Immediately she was there, right behind me,
saying, "Yes, Michelle. How can I help you?" I wondered how she had
done that so fast, without me seeing her?
"I'd
like to try on some of this jewelry, if I may?" I asked.
"Yes,
of course. You have a good eye. They're really beautiful pieces," Vikki
said. Vikki was right!
"If
I may ask, is the ring solid gold, and are the diamonds encrusting it real
diamonds?"
"Yes,
exactly," Vikki replied.
"Why
is it so cheap?" I asked. I didn't want to take advantage of Vikki. Maybe
she had just left off some zeroes or something?
"Oh,
yes. Well. You see, a woman already bought the ring, the bracelet, and the
necklace, and she paid full price: $16,000 in total, plus tax. It seems,
however, that the jewelry she bought is enchanted, and the woman freaked out to
such an extent that she returned them. I offered to return her money, but she
just fled. So, I priced them to move. I don't want anyone returning them again,
nor do I want to profit from her unhappiness," Vikki said. "Returning
them to me, you see, seems to be the only way to break the charm."
"The
charm?" I asked.
"Oh
yes, you remember I told you a random subset of objects on sale here are
charmed? Mostly I don't know which ones are charmed, but from what that woman
said, this set of jewelry is most definitely charmed!" Vikki said.
"What
happened to make her think that?" I asked.
"She
wouldn't say. She mumbled something about too much sex. It didn't make a lot of
sense to me. She said she almost lost her husband because of it. Primarily, she
seemed anxious to put some serious distance between her and the jewelry as fast
as possible. Say, you're not married, right?" Vikki asked.
I
laughed. "Far from it. I'm almost a virgin and have no prospects right
now," I said.
"I
like the concept of being almost a virgin," Vikki said, clearly amused by
my diction. I had said too much.
"It's
a long, complicated story," I said, in that tone of voice we all know how
to use to end a topic of discussion.
"I'm
sure it is. Well, if I may say so, you look stunning in the jewelry. Did you
notice how the ring almost glows on your finger?" Vikki asked. "It's
good that you're not married."
"You
do look gorgeous in it," Rebecca added.
I
looked in the mirror. Wow. If there were a ten-point scale of prettiness, then
(let's say) before the jewelry I had been a five, or maybe on a good day a six.
While wearing the jewelry, however, I was a nine! Probably I was a ten, but
modesty prevents me from saying that. It was amazing, and amazing in a good
way. Vikki was right: The ring appeared to be positively glowing!
"Why
is it good I'm not married?" I asked. Vikki looked as if she had regretted
saying that. There was a little back and forth, but I insisted she answer.
"Not
all husbands are understanding if, for example, you were to kiss another
man," Vikki said.
"Oh,
I see!" I said, even if I didn't, and then the three of us laughed. This
whole enchanted jewelry thing was nonsense, but I was getting a true bargain;
almost a steal!
"I'm
glad you got the jewelry," Rebecca said. "You look stunning in it!
You really do. I know you're wearing only the ring, but it even brightens up
your face, somehow!"
"I
still can't get over how cheap it was," I said.
"It's
probably just paste," Rebecca said. "The point is, it fits you. You
look great with even only just the ring."
"No,
I think it's real. I worked at my Uncle Jim's jewelry store summers, and after
school, as a kid. I know fake from real. This looked real," I said.
"Back then, I saw women come in wanting us to buy their engagement rings,
with diamonds on them the size of Montana. Often, they were just gold plate and
the stones were cubic zirconium, and I had to deal with breaking the news to
them. It was heartbreaking. The same with their gold band wedding rings."
"How
can you tell solid gold from gold plate, just by looking?" Becca asked.
"Weight.
Gold plate weighs significantly more. Trust me, Becca, vee
have our vays!" and I said it with a fake Nazi
accent.
"Real
or fake, it looks great on you, and you look stunning when you wear it. Say,
this is going to sound weird, but did your boobs grow recently?" Rebecca
asked.
"You
mean like today? Like, since I slipped on this ring; which, by the way, fits me
perfectly? My bra does suddenly feel kind of tight," I said. "I'm
having my period, so maybe that's why my boobs are a little bigger. Do they
look good bigger?" I had always been flat chested, and spent my
adolescence waiting for my boobs to grow, which they never did. Until now, it
seemed, after I had become resigned to a flat chested life.
"Well,
I'm not a guy, but if I were one, then yeah, they'd be mighty fine. Mighty
fine," Becca said. "What's going on, Michelle?"
"Damned
if I know," I replied.
"If
I may ask, why do you always say you're almost a virgin?" Rebecca asked.
"It's
a long, and complicated story," I replied using a certain tone of voice
that indicates that's all I wanted to say. It didn't work.
"It's
a long drive back home; three she hours at least. Spill, Michelle," Becca
said. So, I finally told someone. I had never told anyone any of it before.
"I
had sex my freshman year, one time, one night," I said.
"Everyone
did. That's not a big deal, but it's reassuring to hear you're more normal than
I thought," Becca said.
I
shot her a look, even though I was driving. "That's it? That's the whole
story?" she said.
"No.
It was at a Halloween party, off campus. At a certain time of the party, my
memories stop. I woke up, alone, the next morning, in my own bed, with a sore
vagina, and it was matted with cum," I said.
"Yeah,
that sort of thing has happened to me, too. To lots of us girls," Becca
said.
"I
have no memory of it. None. I don't even have a clue who the guy or guys
were!" I said. "I had been a virgin, it was my first time, and it's
all a blank." As I remembered it, I was sort of reliving the horror of it
all.
"Guy
or guys? More than one?" Becca asked. How did Becca know to ask that
particular question?
"My
mouth tasted of cum, I felt nauseated, there was cum matted around my pussy and
all over my boobs, I was naked, and I had been fucked in the ass, too. Can only
one man do all that?" I asked.
"I
see what you mean," Becca said. "Wow, that's bad. No memory at
all?"
"None.
If it weren't for all the cum all over me and how
0 min
May 30 Amorous Goods: The Pendulum & Music Box
Amorous
Goods: The Pendulum
A demon-haunted
pendulum guides a man into a life of vice.
Based
on a post by ShowTime8.
Listen to the
Podcast at Explicit
Novels.

Prologue:
A
lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left
the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining
relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of
administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However,
she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted
with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series
is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
The
dreams had been getting intense since Jack returned from Canada. He always
awoke with flashes of imagery: torchlight against stone pillars, the reek of incense
smoke, a pair of inhuman green eyes. Also, a word ringing in his ears: "Rozrael".
Jack
didn't immediately make the connection between his dreams and the obsidian
pendulum he bought from a store in Toronto.
It
was the weirdest pawn shop he had ever seen: a red brick mansion that seemed
curiously out of place within the shopping district. It was called Amorous
Goods, which sounded like a sex shop.
When
he entered, it looked more like a shabby antiques store. Its items were a
curious mix of the mundane and erotic. Lamps and pill-boxes sat beside bizarre
pieces of erotic artwork; statues of nude women, early twentieth century
paintings of orgies.
Jack
really wanted the antique erotic art, but he couldn't afford it. The owner
didn't seem open to haggling. But he had to get a memento of the weirdest shop
in Canada.
So,
he picked up this obsidian pendulum, with a metal chain. It was cheap and
interesting. The pendulum looked like a pyramid with a hexagonal base. He paid
for it, chucked it in his satchel and left. The owner looked like he couldn't
wait to see the back of him.
Days
later, he was back in the UK, and the life from which he had fled for a week.
He returned on Saturday night, and was expected back in the office on Monday.
Jack
wondered if the money spent on the flight should have gone into something that
could have improved his career prospects. Or if he should have spent that time
doing something to get out of that job.
But
he had been down that path too long, and it led him straight back to where he
was now; in his thirties, doing data entry, and living with his parents. He
needed that holiday.
Sunday
night, the dreams came again. The exotic, torch lit temple. And that word:
"Rozrael".
He
woke to see the pendulum, previously in his satchel, now on his bedside table
beside his alarm clock.
"The
fuck!"
He
jolted upwards. Did he put it there? He was tired last night, maybe he forgot.
He looked over at his satchel, which was still in the corner of his bedroom
where he dumped it yesterday.
Sitting
on the bed, he picked up the pendulum, examining it in his hands.
"Take
me with you."
Jack
dropped the pendulum. He heard a voice. A female voice. Was he dreaming?
He
wondered if this was a side-effect of jetlag. He put the pendulum back on the
table, took out a notepad and biro and wrote down "Rozrael".
Amorous
Goods, Toronto. One year later.
Dylan
entered the shop floor holding a ledger open in front of him. Behind the
counter was a young woman with red shoulder-length hair, peering at a laptop.
"Vikki,
look at this."
"Umm
hmm?"
"You
know anything about a pendulum that uncle sold?"
"Ask
Marshall,' she replied, 'he knows about this stuff."
"This
one might be tricky," said Dylan.
"What
do you mean?"
"Uncle
sold it to someone in England."
"England?"
asked Vikki. "Someone came all the way from England to shop here?"
"Ever
heard of tourism?"
Vikki
slammed the laptop shut.
"Goddamn
it," she exclaimed. "Does this mean we'll have to pay for a flight to
fucking England to get this thing back?"
"Hey,
relax," said Dylan. "This thing was just a cheap trinket. Could be
nothing."
"I
hope so."
They
turned to see a middle-aged man with a stack of papers under his arm. Marshall
seemed unremarkable in khaki chinos and a button-down shirt. He was big-built,
but had developed a paunch with age. Once, he would have been physically
intimidating, but he still moved with youthful energy.
"I
heard my name," said Marshall.
"You
know anything about this pendulum in the ledger?" Dylan asked.
"Oh,
the pendulum of Rozrael? That item has quite a
history behind it."
"I
knew it," exclaimed Vikki. "It's cursed, isn't it?"
"You
could say that," said Marshall. "It houses a powerful demon."
"Okay,
tell us about this demon," said Dylan.
Plymouth,
UK.
Jack
had a whole morning to kill before work. He wanted to see if this pendulum was
an antique, if it was worth anything. He sat before his PC with a coffee.
First,
he wanted to google this word he kept hearing for the past two days.
Google
turned up results, but they were scarce. All he could find was the name of a
demon from some grimoire called Liber Virtute. There
was an online archive of historical grimoires, scanned from public and private
libraries across the world.
This
demon seemed to be on the lower end of a demonic hierarchy, nothing else to be
red besides a name and a seal. While other demons had descriptions of their
office and their position in the hierarchy, this one didn't seem to be worthy
of description.
So,
he was being contacted by a demon. Or he was losing his mind. There was only
one way to find out.
Jack
signed up to web forums frequented by occultists, people who actually practiced
this stuff.
He
made his intro post to several of them, and then posted his request for
information, along with a quick photo of the pendulum.
Then
he packed his rucksack and left for work.
"The
pendulum was created in sixteenth century Venice," Marshall explained,
"on commission by an occultist named Marcilio
Cellini for a merchant called Filipo d'Este. Filipo married into the
family who became the Hapsburgs that ruled England since the British Empire. Filipo did not simply want money. He wanted power.
"To
get that kind of power, one must be a commanding presence. Filipo
was simply a merchant who rode on the tails of his ancestors."
"So,
the only way he could get that kind of power was through magic," Vikki
interjected.
"Precisely.
He hired Marcilio to create a talisman for this
purpose. Unfortunately, he did his job a little too well. This thing housed a
demon of immense power, giving her a foothold in this world. She piggy-backed
on Filipo's earthly desires to establish her own
kingdom."
"And
this demon was Rozrael?" asked Dylan.
"Correct.
When the she unites with the owner, her power shines through them, making them
charismatic and unstoppable. She eventually was stopped when the pendulum was
passed on to his eldest son. He made too many enemies in business and politics.
And he slept with the wives of powerful men. One of whom had him assassinated,
ending his reign, and ending Rozrael's
influence."
Jack's
day at work was the same underpaid monotony he tolerated for years. He got off
the bus at the local depot, where he worked in data entry for a communications
company. Every day, for seven hours, he sat at a desk and typed in postal
addresses.
It
was an open plan office. Thousands of black and white address labels passed his
screen every day. Nearby, a huge window opened out onto an industrial
landscape, where he glanced at the sun as it set each evening.
Jack's
attempts at leaving this job in the past had been met with a wall of silence:
job applications, the occasional "informal chat" over the phone, a
half-assed Linked In profile. All of which no one cared about.
Every
day Jack started his shift with this thought, which he kept to himself. Until
he opened his rucksack, and found the pendulum at the top of the pile.
He
dropped the rucksack. Did he put it in there without thinking? He must have put
it in there by accident. Somehow.
Jack
took the pendulum out, looking at it. He noticed the cluster of desks on the
other side of the office where the managers carried out administrative tasks at
their own computers.
Among
them was Sadie, striding between desks with papers in her hand, obviously busy.
Sadie
would have been plain and unnoticeable. However, she knew what she was doing
with her hair, clothes and make-up, making the most of what she had. She had
long, dark voluminous hair that framed mousy features, although her lips were
full and luscious. She would flash a beautiful smile at him as he passed her in
the corridors.
Sadie
was slim, but curvy in the right places, and she dressed in a way that
accentuated her figure.
Jack
never forgot the Christmas Eve when the managers wore casual clothes. Sadie's
tight jeans made a lasting impression on him. When she bent over the desk in
front of him, his erection got so big, he had to spend his break sat at his
desk.
Jack
absent-mindedly fingered the pendulum, thinking about that ass as Sadie walked
towards his desk, a mound of papers clutched against her chest. He let the
pendulum drop between his fingers, watching it swing back and forth, always in
the direction of Sadie walking past. Jack looked at it, then put it back on his
desk.
"So,
the pendulum," Vikki asked. "What's so sinister about it?"
"It
houses Rozrael and is used to communicate with the
user," Marshall explained. "It answers simple yes or no questions. It
points him in the direction of business opportunities. Sometimes, it will point
to sexual opportunities. Filipo used it to judge
which ladies in the Venetian courts would be open to sleeping with him."
"Are
you saying," asked Dylan, "that this pendulum dowses for pussy?"
"Correct,"
Marshall smiled. "But to Rozrael, sex is a means
to an end. Any domain she establishes won't be in the interests of humanity. It
may be a portal between whatever hellish dimension she comes from into our
world."
During
quiet moments, Jack would pick up the pendulum from his desk and let it swing.
He noticed a pattern in its movements, always swinging in the direction of
certain women.
Perhaps
he was just horny. Perhaps it was his imagination. He had not had sex in years.
The
pendulum swung in the direction of Donna, sat nearby. A Goth back in the day,
she still wore band T-shirts in her thirties. Dark hair, pale skin, and
impressive tits that Jack struggled not to stare at. Her big tits jutted
through a black T-shirt with some obscure metal band print.
Donna
never showed him much attention. They never spoke. Jack never knew what to say
to her.
The
pendulum was interested in her though. It swung in her direction, not wavering
until Sadie walked past. Then it would follow Sadie, until her fine ass had
sauntered around the corner. Then it would go back towards Donna, until Jack
put it back on the desk, before someone noticed.
His
shift ended. He packed his rucksack, got up and caught the bus home.
An
hour later, sat at his PC desk, he logged on to see the responses to his
queries that morning.
Responses
were few, but revealing. It turned out that the Liber Virtute
had a small but dedicated following of experienced occultists, who had been
experimenting with it for years. And they were happy to share their advice.
"What
else do we need to know?" asked Dylan.
"She
appears to the magician in a way that is sexually enticing. She appears as a
woman, with certain features exaggerated."
"Certain
features?" asked Vikki.
"Tits
and ass, usually" Marshall replied.
"Thanks
for clarifying."
"When
she fully unites with the operator, she guides them, and her sexual power
shines through them into all they meet."
"How
do we stop her?" asked Vikki.
"You
probably won't have to. In fact, I would classify this task low priority."
"Low
priority?" exclaimed Dylan. "A demon is trying to take over the
world, and this is low priority?"
"Our
customer is highly unlikely to accomplish anything with the pendulum alone. He
needs the grimoire containing Marcilio's notes. It
tells us how to wake that demon back to life, and it tells us how to put her
back down again. And it's in our vaults."
"So,
we're safe?" asked Dylan.
"For
now," responded Marshall. "We should get it back at some point, but
let's focus on the real dangerous ones, the ones bought locally. Save this one
for a vacation abroad."
Vikki
frowned and pulled out her laptop.
"What
did you say his name is?"
Jack
sat on his cheap office chair in semi-darkness. His bedroom was lit by a single
beeswax candle on top of his cupboard. Illuminated by this candle was a piece
of paper, on which Jack had scrawled the seal of Rozrael.
In
his hand was the pendulum, hanging between his fingers as he gazed at the seal.
His
online friends had given him a simple ritual to contact Rozrael,
who was largely unknown and lacking established contact protocols. Jack was
glad he didn't need the complicated, near-impossible tools that more
established entities in the Liber Virtute required.
Jack
gazed at the seal and chanted the name over and over. He lost of count of how
long this took. His eyelids drooped, blurring his view of the seal.
The
pendulum clattered to the fiber glass surface of the cupboard, jolting him
upright. The room seemed to be lit by a golden glow.
Jack
swung around slowly in his office chair, and saw a light behind him. The other
side of his bedroom opened out onto a bizarre scene. Where his bedroom ended
was now a vast room, lit by flaming torches ensconced on huge stone pillars.
A
tall figure emerged from between the pillars, into the torchlight. A woman,
slightly taller than Jack. She was clad in black latex, buckled and strapped
across the front. She resembled a stereotypical dominatrix, her boots
resounding across the stone floor.
She
appeared human, although unearthly. She gazed at him with bright green eyes, in
a face that was inhumanly beautiful. Her should-length hair was blonde, shining
with a fiery aura.
Her
fingers were a little too long to be human, slender with claw-like nails.
She
seemed too perfect, like a photoshopped pornstar come
to life. Her tits were huge, straining to break free from the buckled latex.
And yet she had the body of an athlete, slim, with long legs.
"Rozrael?" Jack said.
"Of
course."
She
strode into his bedroom, standing a meter away. Jack stood, but remained
silent.
"What
do you want?" she spoke in an echoing voice.
"Are
you the one who calls me in my dreams?" he asked.
"Yes."
Jack
kept glancing at her tits, the cleavage behind the straps.
"Why?"
"I
think we can work to each other's benefit. I can make you powerful."
"How?"
"When
we unite, nobody will be able to resist you. Women will desire you. Men will
fear you. This way, your status on Earth will rise."
"What
do you want from me?"
She
reached forward with a long, slender hand and brushed it down his chest, down
to his crotch. Her touch was cool, electric. He let out a sharp intake of
breath as she gently reached for his balls over his jeans, holding them.
"Give
of yourself to me," she said. "And I will give of myself to
you."
With
her other hand, she unbuckled her top, revealing her magnificent cleavage. Huge
tits burst out almost to the nipple, as her top opened down to her midriff,
casting a shadow over her toned stomach.
Jack
was transfixed, as she ran her fingers up underneath his T-shirt, back towards
his chest. His cock was hardening already, straining beneath his jeans.
He
needed no instruction.
"It's
a deal."
Jack
unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down, revealing a semi-erection in his
black boxer shorts. Still with a hand on his chest, she pulled his boxers down
with the other hand, releasing his cock and gazing at it with a smile, as she
cradled his exposed balls with her other cold hand. He went fully erect
immediately.
She
pushed him towards the bed behind him.
"Sit."
Jack
lay back on his bed, his erect cock between him and the busty demoness.
Her
other hand reached down to the shaft of his cock, and she bent forward,
swallowing his cock. She cradled his balls as she ran her mouth up and down his
shaft, engulfing it right down to the base. He had never received a blowjob
this deep before. His entire groin felt charged with a cold, fiery energy.
Jack
expected to shoot his load in seconds. Strangely, this blowjob was prolonged,
like he wasn't allowed to cum, not just yet. He lay back as this energy
engulfed his body from his groin.
When
he exploded in her mouth, he convulsed a few times. It felt like more than just
semen leaving his body. The energy left too, and he felt empty.
Jack
lay back and watched her stand up from his body, releasing his spent cock from
her mouth, to his thigh. She knelt between his parted legs and unbuckled her
latex top further, pulling her top apart to allow her huge tits to fall out in
the torchlight.
Her
tits were round and firm; large pink nipples with areolas that seemed stretched
out by the size of her tits. Her nipples were thick and erect. The desire in
him was strong, but he was tired and weak.
She
took his hands, pressing them to her tits. He squeezed and fondled them,
feeling their weight, their smoothness. His thumbs went over her hard nipples,
and they seemed oddly moist.
She
reached behind his head with one hand, pulling his head towards her tit. His
mouth clamped eagerly over her tit, his tongue flicking against her hard
nipple. It tasted faintly salty. He sucked harder, and more fluid trickled into
his mouth, down his throat. He felt it build in his body. More fluid came out,
and he felt his lust return.
Eventually,
he didn't need her to hold him. He sucked eagerly on her tit until she wrapped her
arms around his head and pulled his face down between them. For a second it
seemed as though he breathed in her entire body into his, before everything
went dark.
Jack
woke up on his bed in darkness, his pants around his ankles, his stomach and
chest wet with semen. The temple scene was gone.
He
got up from the bed, pulled his pants up and walked to the bathroom. Wincing
when he turned on the light, he washed his hands. He splashed water on his face
and looked in the mirror, running his hands over his forehead, his cheekbones,
his jaw, like he had never seen them properly before. He liked what he saw. And
he felt powerful.
The
next day, Jack walked into the office, as usual. But this time, things seemed
different. People looked up from their desks as he walked in.
Maybe
it was the way he carried himself. He didn't know. He looked at the world
around him with new eyes, and he saw a world ripe for the taking.
Jack
sat at his desk, got out his iPod and water bottle, and then the pendulum. When
no one looked, he let it hang between his fingers. It swung towards the
stairwell nearby. He watched the glass doors to see who it might be pointing
towards.
Sadie
came up the stairwell towards the doors, and t
1 hr 13 min

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