LOST AND FOUNDRY
Martin staggered home in a daze.
The house was surprising empty.
His Aunt Rosie probably had to work a shift at the diner.
Summer, however, was nowhere to be found.
That struck him as odd, as his cousin never really went anywhere, especially on a Saturday.
But, right now he felt too tired to care, and headed upstairs to his room.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow responsible for Summer’s abrupt disappearance.
Upstairs, he collapsed on his bed, and then passed out.
But oblivion eluded him.
And, trouble followed him into that place beyond the waking world, where fantasy reigned supreme.
His eyes fluttered open, and yet he was momentarily blinded, as his sight adjusted to the darkness around him.
The smell hit him first. A mixture of honey and iron scented the air.
In the distance, he heard the clanging of metal, and the reverb surrounded him on all sides—making it hard to get his bearings.
He took a step forward, wincing as his bare feet touched the ice cold concrete floor.
A nagging voice at the back of his head urged him on, and soon he saw a light up ahead.
The light appeared dull, at first, and looked to be a mixture of muddy orange and gold that rain down from above in short bursts.
“Hello Martin,” a familiar voice called out.
Martin turned, and came face to face with a man sitting on a large throne.
The dim light made it hard to place the man. But, Martin could see that he was thin, so thin that the outline of his ribs seeped through the skin of his bare chest.
But, the thing that really stood out about the man was his long face, so long that it appeared almost wolf like.
“Henry King,” the man said, by way of introduction. “You remember me right?”
“The man from the park bench,” Martin blurted out.
The man grinned sheepishly.
“But why am I…” Martin began.
“Why are you here?” King asked innocently.
“Just checking in on you,” The man in throne answered. His smile widening. “How do you like my little gift? You slaying pussy left and right?”
Martin slowly nodded.
“B-B-But,” Martin stammered, “if it’s all the same to you M-M-Mr. King…”
“Henry,” the man said.
“Henry,” Martin corrected, and then continued, “I’d like to give the necklace back…”
The man’s eyes narrowed, making Martin nervous.
Strangely, Martin could swear he heard girlish laughter coming from somewhere behind him.
“I appreciate what you’ve done, but there’s this girl…”
“Say no more,” King said, but the way he said made it sound like a command.
King tented his fingers and sat back. The darkness clothing him, but left his eyes bare.
“What we have here, is a serious case of oneitis,” King announced. “Fortunately, I have the cure at my fingertips.”
The man snapped his fingers, and the room flooded with light.
Martin shielded his eyes, as the flash temporarily blinded him.
Sight soon returned, and yet Martin couldn’t believe his eyes.
Henry King did indeed sit on an iron throne, and he sat dressed in nothing more than his birthday suit. And, he wasn’t alone.
Kneeling before the throne were two women—one on the left hand side, and the other on the right.
Martin eyes boggled at the sight of them. They were both very beautiful and both very naked.
The one on the left looked Hispanic, and had the body of a porn star, complete with big tits, and nice large curve to her hips. Her lips were strangely blue, however, and glowed in the light.
The girl on the right, was Asian… no Native American. Just like Emily! But, the Native girl didn’t look anything like Emily though. Instead, she looked remarkably like a girl he used to have a crush on at his old school, who was Navajo. The Native girl looked rail thin, and had nowhere near the mouth-watering endowments of the other girl. Not only that, but the Native girl looked a little strung out, as her mouth hung slightly open and her eyes were half closed. But, the expression made her look slutty—a girl always looking to party.
Martin shook his head in disbelief.
“Welcome to our little forgery,” Henry King said, chuckling.
It took a minute for Martin to understand what he meant. Martin knew it was some kind of bad joke, but he wasn’t sure why.
A quick glance around told him the answer. The muddy orange/gold light that dripped from above: molten metal. They were in some sort of iron works factory: a forge.
Martin awkwardly returned the chuckle, out of politeness. But then, realized that he was just making a fool of himself, and quickly stopped.
Henry King rubbed his hands together, and grinned.
The man now leaned forward, and whispered, “Pick one.”
“Excuse me?” Martin said, as if he hadn’t heard the man at all.
“Pick one,” the man repeated, letting his long fingers curl around each girls’ neck. A second later he gently stroked their soft skin.
The gesture appeared both suggestive and dangerous.
Was King going to strangle one of the girls, right in front of him?
Martin’s head swam with indecision, and his brow beaded with sweat. He barely even noticed the growing erection in his sweat pants.
His gaze turned to the Hispanic girl again. The girl licked her blue lips, and then smiled at the attention.
Porn star body, he though again.
But, that wasn’t the only thing that the girl’s body suggested.
Her body was soft, sensual, and yet wholesome—she was the girl next door, who had matured over the summer.
The illusion was quickly spoiled by her face. Her face looked too thin. It should be more round, not narrow and sharp. It should have more of an earthy quality to it, to match the fertility of her body.
But, ultimately, what turned Martin completely off about the girl were her eyes.
Her eyes looked wild and half crazed. The kind of girl who would no doubt fuck your brains out, but just as quickly rip your balls off, and then laugh about it after.
Martin averted his eyes, and focused on the other girl.
The Native girl was the complete opposite. She looked Tom boyish with only a hint of femininity. She had closed her mouth, which now drooped into a frown, giving her a harsh appearance. But her eyes, gave Martin pause. She opened them, and her eyes looked incredibly sad. Not a party girl, then, more a damsel in distress. Martin’s heart went out to her.
“Her,” Martin said, pointing at the Native girl.
“Bennett?” King said in disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“No fair,” the Hispanic girl cried. “Make him pick again.”
“Now, now Marissa,” King said. “Don’t be jealous. Martin has made his choice.”
“Let him have both of us,” the girl, Marissa, said, her voice dripping with lust.
“What are you trying to do?” He asked. “Kill the poor kid?”
“Please,” the girl moaned. “I need it so bad.”
Martin watched, hypnotized, as the girl eagerly climbed into the King’s lap.
King sighed in annoyance, but offered no resistance, as the girl straddled him.
Once on top, the girl spun her body around, so that she faced away from the man on the throne.
The girl reached underneath her, and then let out a shivery gasp.
She ground her hips, her big breasts bouncing with the each sinful motion.
The girl knew she had an audience, and arched her back, while at the same time pushed her breasts forward.
Martin, watched in awe—his cock so hard it felt ready to burst.
The girl whimpered, fringing helplessness, and then touched a finger to her blue lips—as if pointing where she wanted him.
Martin nearly jumped out of his skin, when he felt something cold touch his hand.
He turned, and saw the Native girl, Bennett, standing there.
With her free hand, she put a finger to her lips, gesturing for silence, and then led him away.
Bennett moved like a snake, almost slithering as she walked, and every step she took caused her tiny ass to shake a little.
Martin could hear himself panting, and by the time the girl had lead him into a small alcove, he panted like a dog.
The smell of honey filled his nostrils, and drove him insane with lust. He wanted this girl, and he wanted her over and over again.
She pressed her naked body against him.
The girl wanted him. Her quivering lips spoke volumes.
But on the verge of glory, guilt raised its ugly head.
I shouldn’t be doing this, he thought. It’s not fair to Emily. It would break her heart if she found out.
His guilt quickly retreated, as he felt the girl wrap her fingers around the shaft of his cock.
Even through the fabric of his sweatpants, he could feel how cold her hand was.
She let him go, and wrapped her hands around his neck.
The scent of honey again overwhelmed him.
She was soaking wet.
The craned her head, and made as if she were going to kiss his cheek.
Instead, she whispered in his ear.
“We have to pretend,” she said. “The others, they’re watching. They’re always watching…”
Her breath felt hot against his ear, and this made his head swim. So much so that it took a moment, for him to realize that she had said anything at all.
“What?” He asked.
She pulled away, thought didn’t go far.
“So much I have to tell you,” she said. Her breath heavy. “It’s hard to focus…”
Their lips were close enough to touch.
“Don’t trust him, she said. Her lips quivering.
“Mr. King?” Martin asked.
She started to nod, and then quickly shook her head.
“Yes, him too,” she said. “But no, don’t trust the voice at the back of your head. The Yarca…”
Suddenly a loud groan sounded from underneath their feet.
The girl swallowed hard, and then continued.
“It attracts people like us.” She sighed, making her breasts raise, as an offering perhaps.
“The lost and the broken,” she continued. “Some of us embrace it willingly.”
Her eyes rolled in the direction of Henry King, and the Marissa girl.
“For the more reluctant—like me and you—it tricks us. Makes us addicted.”
Her naked body shivered.
Instinctively, Martin pulled her close.
Her breath again felt hot and heavy, but cold finger touched his cheek—causing him to flinch.
“You don’t know how much I want you to bend me over, and fuck me deep,” she said.
His cock throbbed at the suggestion.
The girl shook her head.
“A life of unending pleasure is what it promises,” she cried, “But it’s an empty promise… so empty.”
Again the ground underneath them groaned.
The girl opened her eyes wide.
“It’s too late for me,” the girl cried. “You still have time…”
She pulled away. Martin could see the fear in her sad eyes.
“It has a weakness,” she said. “This is a fantasy, a dream. But there is a way to keep the dream from seeping into the waking world. What you need is a dreamcat….”
“Bennett,” a voice shouted, and Henry King stepped out of the shadows,
Marissa at his side, flashing a wicked, little smile.
“Are you being rude to our guest?” King asked.
“No,” Bennett answered, shaking her head vigorously.
“Then why aren’t you fucking him?” King asked.
“We were just about too,” Bennett answered. Her voice high-pitched and nervous. “He was going to bend me over, and put it in deep…”
Bennett looked over at Martin. Her eyes pleading.
“That’s right,” Martin said. “She wanted to, but I was too nervous.
King nodded his head sagely.
One thing Martin now noticed about the man, was that the shaft of his cock almost touched the floor.
King caught him looking, and Martin quickly averted his eyes.
“Oh Martin,” King said, sculpting his lips into a grin. “You don’t need to lie for her.”
Martin took a step forward to protect the girl, but King moved faster, and was already in front of the girl.
“And Bennett,” King snarled, grabbing the girl’s dark hair. “Did you honestly believe you could keep secrets from us?”
King laughed, a cruel laugh, as he pulled the girl close.
Still grinning, King now grabbed the girl by the chin. His fingers were long, and stretched toward her eyes.
“We offer you so much, and you betray us,” King snarled.
He threw the girl to the floor.
Martin was soon at the girl’s side, helping her to her feet.
“Tell me Bennett,” King said, turning his back on the girl. “Do you wish to return to the service of the Queen of Sorrows?”
“No!” Bennett screamed. “Oh god, no!”
“Then I’m afraid there’s only one other option,” King said pointing up.
The girl didn’t try to run. Instead, she pressed her naked body close to Martin, clinging onto him for dear life.
It did her little good, for quicker than the eye could follow, a snake-like appendage roped itself around her feet. It began to pull, but the girl had a tight grip on his shirt. So tight, in fact, that Martin stumbled forward, only stopping when the fabric tore away.
“THEY’RE SKINWALKERS!” Bennett screamed, as she whipped into the air.
Bennett said no more. Only her muffled cries could be heard as she disappeared into the darkness above.
King sighed, and then turned to Martin.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, Martin,” King said, and the man seemed generally sincere. That sincerity didn’t last long, as the grin reappeared on King’s long face.
“Bennett,” he said, “is still learning the ropes.”
Martin snarled, as rage erupted inside of him. Rage at not being able to protect the girl, and rage at King for making jokes at the girl’s expense. Martin, however, had enough of a survival instinct to keep his silence. It would do him little good to start a fight here, where King had all the power. Not that Martin was much of a fighter anyway. His mother had taken all the fight out of him.
It’s attracted to the lost and broken…
Instead, Martin asked, “Will she be alright?”
King spin him around, and clamped a hand on his shoulder. His long finger dangling down to the tear in Martin’s T-shirt.
“Your concern is touching,” King said, humoring him. “But, Bennett will be fine. Sometimes all a girl needs is a good fucking to set her straight.”
“It did wonders in my case,” the girl with blue lips said, reappearing at King’s side.
King laughed. This laughter sounded genuine.
“Watch out for this one Martin,” King said now. “She’s the Queen of Unbridled Sex, and once she gets a hold of your dick, you’ll have a real fight getting it back.”
As if to prove King’s point, the girl fell on her knees in front of King.
And, now to both Martin’s and King’s amazement, she swallowed the entire length of King’s shaft down her throat.
“Jesus!” King cried.
She held him in her mouth for what seemed like ages, rendering King completely speechless.
When she finally pulled back, a torrent of spittle and cum poured out of the side of her mouth. But, her actions produced the desired effect, leaving King with a giant erection.
The girl started to pant, and a wild look flashed in her eyes.
King responded in kind, grabbing her reddish brown hair, and violently throwing her to the ground.
The girl snarled…
King stared her down, and then raised a hand.
Martin jumped, as King brought his hand down hard—slapping the girl hard across the face.
The girl licked her blue lips, tasting the blood that dropped from her nose.
She began to laugh—a mad insane laugh.
She kept laughing, as she got on all fours, and raised her bare ass high.
The laughter came to an abrupt end, as King pushed himself into her.
The girl lowering her head, as King roughly grabbed her by the hips, and pulled her back—the entire length of his enormous cock disappearing inside her tiny body.
The girl screamed, and continued to scream, as King violently thrust into her.
King quickened his pace.
The girl weakly raised a hand, trying to push King back.
It proved to be a futile effort, as King swatted it away, and smacked the girl roughly across her ass.
Her head snapped up.
To Martin’s surprise her lips were no longer blue.
Her face had changed as well, losing some of its sharpness, and blemishes riddled her chin.
But, the biggest change of all were the loss of her breasts. Her breasts had lost their fullest, flattening to the point that she lost all femininity.
With the mask stripped away, the Queen of Unbridled Sex proved to be nothing more than a small thin girl, that looked much younger than she had before. Not a mature woman, but a high school girl.
Making what King did to her, look all the more obscene, as he continued to have his way with her from behind.
As before, it was the girl’s eyes that told the real story. No longer were her eyes wild and aroused. Now they looked sad and pleading.
King slapped her hard across her ass, making her scream again.
“Look around, Martin,” King growled. “Find someone you like, but this one’s mine!”
King grabbed the girl by her hair, pulling her closer to him.
He raised her to a standing position.
But she had changed again.
Her tongue darted across her blue lips. Lips that quivered at the man’s touch.
Her eyes wild and hungry, as her big breasts bounced freely with every thrust.
For a moment, King disappeared behind her. The only indication of his presence were his long fingers wrapped around the girl’s enormous breasts.
The girl sighed, a shivery sigh, as she came.
King reappeared, but was now a changed man.
His eyes glowed a dull yellow.
His skin turned a dark gray.
His black lips, pulled back into a smile, revealing large sharp teeth.
Martin coiled back at the thing that King had become.
Martin wanted to call out, warn the girl, as King’s mouth drew closer to her neck.
But, fear silenced him.
Something slithered out of King’s mouth.
It was his tongue—unnaturally long and large.
It licked the nape of the girl’s neck, and then continued to worm its way down her body.
She whimpered, and soon cried out in orgasmic delight.
Martin found he could move again.
And, when he ran, they didn’t even notice.
They’re skinwalkers, that’s what Bennett had said.
His mind seized on that.
Native American werewolves.
No, that wasn’t quite right.
They were more than that if comic books and horror movies had taught him anything.
They were shape-shifters, but more in the vein of something like John Carpenter’s The Thing.
Not a perfect copy, and hideously distorted in some way.
Martin look down at the bulge in his sweatpants, and his mind reeled.
Is that what he was going to become—like them!
Now, more than ever he wanted to get rid of this thing around his neck, and just live a normal life with Emily.
He grabbed the pendant, but quickly drew back his hand.
It had burned him, but it wasn’t hot. It felt cold—so cold.
He looked down at his fingers. They had turned blue, and were now frozen into a claw.
A reprieve from above, interrupting his troubled thoughts.
Something had dripped onto his forehead.
Martin craned his head upward, but saw only darkness.
Something at the back of his mind told him to wait.
He didn’t have to wait long, as a minute or so later, his eyes adjusted to the dark.
Martin saw Bennett, and to his amazement, she floated in the air.
She flew Superman style: flat on her stomach and arms extended in front of her.
Gradually, more details came to light. To his horror, Martin could see that Bennett wasn’t flying at all.
Instead, she hung bounded by rope by her hands and feet.
And, the rope was alive!
In shock, Martin watched as long, thick strands of the rope whipped suggestively around the most intimate parts of her body.
Now in awe, Martin couldn’t believe what he saw. Watching, as one of the thick strands, slid inside of her.
A few second later, another followed, this strand entering from the top down.
Bennett jumped, struggling against her bounds.
But, she didn’t scream.
Martin soon saw why.
One of those things, had slid in her mouth, and he could see a large bulge in her throat.
Not ropes, he realized, tentacles.
Tentacles that filled every orifice, she had.
One of the tentacles soon wiggled free. It squirmed wildly in the air, until white goo poured out of the tip, spraying all over the girl’s bare ass.
Martin, stepped away just in time, before any more of the goo dripped on him.
Spent, Martin watched as it quickly retreated, but soon another took its place, as it wormed its way inside her.
But, worst of all, there were others, squirming in the dark, waiting for their turn.
Martin shook his head. There was no way to help her. Even if he wanted too, he couldn’t even reach her. Well, there was one way, but it meant being dragged up by his feet, and then probably being violated in the same way.
He dreaded that thought, and yet he couldn’t just leave the girl to her fate.
He scanned the area, looking for a ladder, or maybe some steps. He didn’t see any other way, except the tentacles, and Martin had no idea how to summon them. Only King knew that, and Martin no desire to ask him.
Martin was well meaning, but not much of a hero—never had been.
Still he searched, and this time he found something, or rather someone.
A man who sat in the corner of a walkway, just above Bennett.
He had been easy to miss, as the color of the walkway looked a sooty black, and the man seemed to almost melt into the background.
The man looked young, closer to a teenager maybe, and appeared to be Asian.
He sat in profile.
Even at this distance, Martin could tell there was something wrong with him.
He looked deranged, and his mouth hung open.
A large amount of drool spilled out of the corner of his mouth.
Something squirmed in his lap.
Martin couldn’t make out what, except that it was some sort of large mass near the man’s stomach.
The mass exploded. Tentacles jetting out from the aftermath.
They looped high in the air, before curving down, then paused as they leering down at him.
Martin ran, whatever bravery he had, fleeing with him.
He hid in a small alcove. Time passed, the seconds marked by his racing heart. When he felt sure that none of those things had followed him, Martin cautiously stepped out of his hiding place. He knew immediately that he was lost, which in itself wasn’t surprising, since he didn’t know where he was to begin with.
This “forgery,” King had called it, seemed endless.
He wandered, aimless, until he suddenly became painfully aware of the bulge in his pants. It hadn’t gone away, and if anything it looked like it had gotten bigger. Part of him wished that he had picked the girl with the crazy eyes, at least she put out. Then he thought of Emily, and felt guilty, and yet another part of him hated her. After all, he had tried to give the necklace back, and now he was being punished for it.
Martin took a few tentative steps forward, before doubling over, groaning in pain.
Martin reached into his sweatpants, and pulled his cock out.
His eyes widened at how huge and swollen his thing was. Not only that, but it felt heavy in his hand.
Martin began to tug, jerking himself off. But a mocking voice, in the back of his mind, told him that wasn’t going to work. A few frustrating minutes later, he gave up. Jerking himself off, had only made the problem worse, and now his cock throbbed and ached in want of release.
Martin tired to stuff his thing back into his pants, feeling embarrassed by his condition. But the cock proved too stiff, and finally he just did his best to cover the elongated shaft with the bottom of his T-shirt.
He stumbled forward, and suddenly went blind…
The blindness proved to be mercifully brief. His eyes, accustomed to the dark, had gone into sensory overload as bright lights from above shined down upon him.
Martin blinked, blinked several times, until he could see clearly again. But once he saw where he was, he had to blink again—this time in disbelief.
He stood in a video store.
It looked, just like the one he had spent many happy Saturdays in when he was a kid.
Fluorescent lights hummed above him, lighting the cheap, red carpeting underneath his feet.
In the distance, a back wall proudly proclaimed NEW RELEASES, while shoulder high shelves stood strewed about the rest of the store.
Martin lifted one of the blue boxes off the shelf, and to his surprise found a VHS tape inside.
The cover box had fallen on the floor.
Martin picked it up, and read the title: Lusty Redheads 4.
The picture on the cover showed a skinny, red headed girl, with tiny breasts, standing in a shower. Strangely, the girl wore a blank, expressionless mask.
Martin flipped the box over.
On the back he saw a woman, in a blue dress, getting railed from behind.
This woman was a lot more thick than the one on the cover, and had breasts like mountains that spilled out of the front of her dress.
The two women were complete opposites of each other, like some sort side by side before and after picture. But they did have one thing in common, for the woman in the blue dress also wore a blank, expressionless mask.
It creeped him out. But, he quickly dismissed the idea, as some weird BDSM thing.
That is until he looked at the cover of another box.
Again, another naked girl, wearing a blank, expressionless mask.
It was the same for all the others, naked girls all wearing blank, expressionless masks. The only variation between the covers seemed to be the girl’s hair, weight and skin color.
It’s a little weird, yes, his rational mind told him. But more than the likely they were produced by the same company, and the box art just had a uniformed look. That’s all.
Martin nodded, agreeing with himself.
He was glad that his rational mind seemed to be back in charge again. He had been running mostly on impulse and fear since he had gotten here. Even the throbbing pain in his groin seemed to have quieted.
But all rationally quickly fled, when he heard the crash.
Martin’s instincts took hold again.
He cautiously peaked over the shelf, toward the New Release section.
There, he saw cover boxes and blue VHS tapes scattered all over the red carpet.
Everything told him to run, but shelving surrounding him on all sides, save one. He could go out or deeper in.
He weighed his options.
If he ran out, there was a fifty-fifty chance that he’d run into whatever had caused the crash. So, he went deeper in. Hunkering down, hoping against hope that he hadn’t been seen, and hoping that whatever it was would go away on its own.
Another crash, somewhere to his right, and louder this time.
Martin glanced up, and saw that he now sat in the HORROR section.
Boxes rain down on top him, as something hit the shelf from behind.
“Play with us, Martin,” a tiny voice whispered.
“Play with us,” another voice said, and soon a hundred other voices joined chorus.
Martin pushed the boxes away from him, and looked up just in time to see a green leg hook over the top of the shelf.
The leg wasn’t human.
Instead, the leg appeared long and thin, and had a black hook on the end.
It hooked another leg on the shelf, and started to pull itself up.
Martin jumped up, only to fall again, as something grabbed at his pant legs.
He looked down, seeing tiny female hands reaching up from the boxes.
“Don’t go,” several voices cried in unison. “Play with us.”
Martin kicked the boxes away, hearing screaming as he did so, and once free he ran.
Outside, the darkness embraced him, which was alright.
He could hide in the dark.
But it was lonely in the dark, and his cock hungered for relief. The relief that could only been found in-between a woman’s legs. And right now, he didn’t care who the woman was. She could be young, old, thin, fat, pretty, or ugly. None of that mattered, just as long as he could spread her legs wide, and shove himself in so deep that he’d split her in half.
He heard soft moaning, and like a rabid dog scrambled after the sound. His efforts were soon rewarded.
There on a bed, sat a girl. She lay partially hidden by an alcove wall, but what he did see of her was enough to make his mouth water. His eyes zeroed on her chest. She wore a red sweater, but the cut was low enough to show off her impressive cleavage. Around her breasts were several white stains, some still wet and fresh.
Martin’s eyes drifted up to the girl’s face, and to his surprise, she looked remarkably like his cousin Summer, right down to the red hair.
The body was all wrong, though. Short and slightly chubby, to Summer’s tall and thin— but the two of them could easily pass for sisters.
The girl licked her thin lips, and her chest heaved, causing her cleavage to hypnotically rise and fall.
She wanted him.
And he wanted her, at least a part of him did.
Martin moved closer, and the girl fingers pulled the sweater open, exposing her full, round breasts.
I’ll put it there first, Martin thought. Let the shaft slide in-between. Titty fuck her, as she sucks the tip. Let her get me harder and harder, so that when I finally put it inside of her, it’ll tear her apart.
They were almost close enough to touch, and now she reached out for him…
…only to abruptly pull back. Her lips curling into a cruel smile.
A big black mass appeared behind the girl.
It frightened Martin enough that he cringed back.
The dark figure soon took shape, and now resembled a giant horse.
“Did we scare you,” the girl giggled. She continued to giggle, until the monster’s hand reached out.
Its giant fingers wrapping around the girl’s head.
The monster pulled the girl down to its crotch.
A few seconds later, the girl softly moaned.
Martin ached to touch the girl, to have his way with her, and reckless renewed his approach.
But, the monster growled, warning him away.
Martin moved on.
But soon, the throbbing pain in his groin proved too great, and he had to stop.
He again jerked himself off, knowing it wouldn’t help, but the lust proved too great to resist.
After a few minutes, he again gave up, crying out in frustration.
“Poor boy,” a voice said in answer.
It was a woman.
“Come here,” she beckoned. “Let me help you.”
He ran toward the voice, soon finding the owner behind it.
She stood with her back toward him.
He couldn’t tell if she was old or young, ugly or beautiful.
But, right now she was everything that he desired.
She stood completely nude, and she had a nice round curve to her ass.
Looming over her stood a large statue that grew out of the wall.
The statue’s hollow eyes were lewd and lustful, but it’s open mouth, spoke of sadness and regret.
A shower of blue dust rained down on the nude woman underneath.
The dust glowed in the dark, but the alienness of it made Martin slightly weary, until the woman spoke.
“It’s been so long,” she said, her voice breathy. “Since a man touched me.”
His body aching for her, but he held back, unsure.
“And I think if a man put his thing inside of me. I would go absolutely crazy...”
She bent over, exposing her pussy toward him.
Martin’s mouth watered at the sight of it.
She looked so wet.
He tore off his his clothes, and eagerly rushed forward.
The shower stopped at his approach.
His blood ran hot, but she felt cold to the touch.
He didn’t care. He could be hot enough for both of them.
She sighed, as he grabbed her hips, and roughly pulled her towards him.
“Mmm,” she moaned. ”Yeah that’s it, be wild. Make me scream, as my pussy chokes on your big, fat cock. And I want you to cum inside of me. Do that and I’ll be yours forever. My tight, little pussy will ache for you, but it will never be able to get enough.”
He shook with excitement, as he grabbed his cock, fumbling as he tried to guide it in.
“And don’t worry,” she whispered. “the one we serve, promises endless debauchery without any of life’s unexpected surprises. So, feel free to treat me like the whore that I am.”
His excitement proved to be short live, and again he cried out in frustration.
He was too hard, and the shaft stood straight up at full attention. Try as he might, he couldn’t flex it enough to shove it in.
The woman giggled, and then stood.
“As if I’d ever let a little pervert like you, fuck me,” she snarled.
She turned to face him now, and Martin gasped
His mother. It was mother.
Martin stumbled back, his earlier excitement and eagerness replaced by fear and revolution.
Her full lips curled back into a large, cruel smile.
A smile that Martin was intimately familiar with.
It was as familiar as her punk rock hair: jet black hair, except for a red streak, near the front.
She stood fully exposed, but this wasn’t the first time he had seen his seen his mother naked. Quite the opposite as a matter of fact. She always had a great body, even a blind man could see that. And, Martin had lost count of the number of times she had paraded around the house naked or semi-naked. Flaunting her body, getting him excited, only to quickly cover herself, and call him sick or a pervert for daring to look at his mother like that. It was her favorite game in the world, at least when she was still alive— it should be said— to humiliate him, to shame him.
He tried not to look, knowing that it would be a losing battle.
A battle he lost, a few seconds later, as he sneaked a peak just in time to see her chest heave, causing her big breasts to rise.
“Sick little boy,” she said, the cruel smile never leaving her face. “I can’t believe you actually wanted to fuck your own mother.”
His face burned red, but not out of embarrassment, he realized. This time it burned with pure rage.
But, in his rage, he had a moment of clarity. Realizing—in that moment—that he was a lot bigger and stronger than her. It would be so easy to throw her to the ground, and make her scream as he had his way with her. Paying her back, for all her sick, messed up little games.
As if reading his mind, she stepped back, the smile dropping from her face.
“Try it,” she snarled. “I dare you.”
She folded her arms across her chest, and frowned.
Martin smiled. He had won, albeit temporary.
“Let’s not fight,” she said, dropping her arms.
“It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” she said now. “I miss you.”
She sounded genuine, but his mother had fooled him this way before too.
Cautiously, she approached...
His rage dwindled as she drew near.
He realized too late, that by acting scared and helpless she had easily broken through his defenses.
She had regained control, and now pressed her advantage, pushing her naked body close to his.
She felt cold, so cold to the touch.
But, this close, Martin could feel the heat between her legs, and his cock throbbed in want of her.
“I was so wrong about this place,” she said, her voice breathy again. “This isn’t a nightmare at all. This is where dreams come true.”
Ice cold fingers touched his face. In response, his face burned in shame.
“And the best part of it is,” she continued, “they’re letting me come back.”
Her lips trembled, as she said it, “And you and I are going to have so much fun together, sweetheart.”
She embraced him, holding him tight, as her breasts pushed against his bare chest.
Martin sighed, a shaky sigh, as he returning her embrace.
Her body relaxed into his.
His fingers traced the curves of her hips.
And then in his ear, she whispered, “Now, wake up.”
TO BE CONTINUED...