Authors: Eric Stoffer
Lisa found the book on her first day working at the public library. It was perched on the top of one of the shelves near the back of the second floor. She strained on her tip toes to pull it down. The title was
. No author was listed. The black cover showed a single lit, red candle. Lisa pushed her red framed reading glasses up on her nose, and checked the spine of the book for the laminated Dewey Decimal number. She sighed, seeing that someone had torn it off the book. Book underarm, she headed back down to the office she shared with the other librarians.
There were six desks in the room, and hers was the only not yet cluttered with personal possessions. She sat down in front of her computer and typed in the name of the book. Nothing came up. She tried the author, but the library system. Again, no result. She checked the copyright page, and saw a Lecher’s Press had put the book out in 1966. She started flipping through the book, but after the copyright page, everything was written in Latin.
Each chapter had a pencil sketch of a young, beautiful woman, and a tall, handsome man. At first, they looked like a happy, well dressed couple, but in each image, they were closer. The man’s smiled with half his mouth. With each chapter, they lost a little clothing. She seemed surprised, scandalized, and lost in ecstasy, while he seemed vaguely amused.
“Alright in there?” Margery called from the front desk, where a line was forming in front of Lisa’s fat co-worker. Lisa yelped, and slammed the book shut, blushing at the image of the man smiling, his head between the legs of the woman at the start of the fourth last chapter of the book.
“Fine,” Lisa answered, hiding the book under a pile of orientation papers on her desk, and rushing forward. She spent the rest of the afternoon struggling with the horde of university summer students checking out books. She had become a librarian to spend times with books, not with people, and her first afternoon was stressful.
That night, in the tall narrow townhouse Lisa lived in alone, she spent her evening reading a cheap romance novel from a second-hand bookstore. Sometime after midnight, she set it on her nightstand with a sigh. It wasn’t very good, but she needed to finish it because she had started it. She placed her glasses on top of the book.
She laid there, listening to the rain patter against the window, trying to find sleep. She couldn’t. Something was nudging at the corner of her mind. Finally, after twenty minutes, she realized it was the book. That pretty girl, in all the drawings, running through all those emotions, while that handsome young man just smiled, slightly, toying with her.
She imagined him, walking quietly into her room. He stood over her, watching her. She kept her eyes closed, pretending she was asleep. His gaze fell on her full lips, and his smile grew, just a little. She opened one eye, just a fraction, to look at him. He was tall, and leanly muscled, standing naked over her. His hair was a deep, dark black, and his pale blue eyes shone in the streetlight sneaking in through the window.
He shook his head, slowly, disapproving of her subterfuge. He walked forward, to the edge of the bed, and ripped back the heavy quilt covering her. She gasped, and screwed her eyes shut. She was wearing a white t-shirt, and she could feel her nipples straining against the fabric. Slung across her hips was a pair of stretchy pajama pants. One hand flew to cover her full breasts, to hide her excitement. The other went down, between her legs, and she pinched her fingers between her thighs. She wasn’t sure why.
The man from the book tsked, and crawled into the bed beside her. With his strong hands, he grabbed Lisa’s wrists, and pulled them over her head, pinning them to her pillow. He held them there with one hand, while the other pulled her long, wavy black hair away from one of her ears. He laid down beside her, and she could feel his hot breath on her neck. His breathing was ragged, desperate.
“I want you,” he whispered, soft and deep. “I want to devour every inch of you.”
“I want to take you in every way I can imagine, and I want you to beg for it.”
Lisa mumbled something, but her voice wouldn’t work.
“I want you to forget who you are, for my pleasure, and become what I want you to be.”
“O- Okay,” she found herself saying softly, turning her face towards him.
His free hand grabbed her chin, and forced her to look back up at the ceiling. “No. You will beg me to use you for my pleasure.”
“Please,” she moaned. “Please use me.”
His rough tongue ran up her neck, and bit her ear. She squealed, louder than she thought was possible. “That’s not good enough, Lisa.”
“Please,” she said, more desperately. “I’ll do anything for you. Tell me what you want.”
“Better,” he purred. His hand pressed against her soft, smooth stomach. He ran it under her shirt, his fingers fanning over her navel. The cotton gathered around his forearm as he went. He began to knead one of her round breasts, pinching the nipple at the base of two of her fingers. She let out a happy sigh, and tried to pull one of her hands free, to slip it through the elastic of her pajama pants.
“No,” grunted the man quietly, pinning her arms more tightly. “You haven’t earned that yet.”
“Please,” she begged. “Please, let me touch myself.”
He chuckled softly in her ear. “Not tonight.”
Her pussy ached, but his grip on her wrists was a vice. “Please?” she whispered. “Please, please, please?” she begged. He laughed again, and swung his legs over her hips and straddled her stomach. His cock, long and thick, rested on the pale skin of her belly. She gasped at the size of it. He ran both hands up her sides, and it was a moment before she realized her wrists were free. His fingertips ran up her ribs, over and guided the t-shirt up over her head.
She reached for him, running her hands over the strong muscles of his stomach, loving the feel of him. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You should have asked,” he purred. His right hand reached out, wrapping around her slender neck, slowly applying pressure. A warm thrill shot through Lisa’s core. She gasped, and his fingers tightened. She traced a finger across his chest, and he started applying more pressure to her throat.
There was a darkness in those blue eyes, and she tried to smile playfully up at him. It didn’t work. She tried to take a short breath, but her lungs burned as nothing came in. Panic started to set in, and with both hands, she gripped his forearm, trying to pull his hand free. He grinned a little wider out of one side, and his penis pulsed, growing even larger, pulsing against her. “I use you how I wish,” he said darkly.
She felt a tear in the corner of her eye as she nodded.
“If I decide to kill you, you will die.”
Lisa tried to speak, but nothing came out.
“And when I give you an instruction, you are to follow it.”
Lisa nodded, and let go of his forearm. She placed her hands over her head again, where he had pinned them earlier. He watched her, and she felt her eyes slide away from the intensity in his. He slowly removed his fingers from her neck.
She coughed a little but didn’t look up at him.
“Oh, don’t be like that. Listen, sweetie,” Something about the way that he said sweetie made her shiver. “I don’t want to have to give you the hard lessons. If you’re a good girl, if you do what you’re told, this will go very well for you Lisa.”
She carefully kept her hands locked above her head.
“There we go. That’s a good girl. I don’t want you to die.” He chuckled, and she looked up at him again. “Not the big death.” He reached down, and kissed her. He slipped a hand behind her neck, and pulled her head up to him and kissed her again, and bit playfully on her lower lip. “Are you going to be a good girl now?”
Lisa nodded. He kissed her again. Then he kissed under her ear, down her neck, and across her collarbone. He slipped his hips down, and spread her legs wide with his knees. His member rested against her, pulsing. In spite of herself, she was wet, soaking her pajamas.
“Good girl,” the man purred again, his tongue circling under her left breast as his hands wrapped around her hips. His thumbs press against her, and she tried to hold in the moan. “Good girls get rewards.” He rubbed himself against the lips of her vagina, pushing the soft fabric of the pajamas against her. “What reward, do you want?” He kissed her left nipple, running his strange rough tongue over it.
Even in the darkness, she blushed. “Kisses.” The man smiled up at her and raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Kisses, down there.”
“Good girl.” He told her again, and trailed his tongue down to her navel. “But that’s not exactly what you mean, is it, Lisa? If you want what you’re looking for, you will need to be more specific.” Her blush spread. She was sure she was pink everywhere. “You’re going to need to beg me. You’ll need to say “Please, Master, kiss my cunt.”
“… Master?” Lisa asked softly.
“Yes?” he answered, his cock pulsing harder against her.
“I don’t know …” she said softly, looking away again.
“Liar,” he chuckled. The hands on her hips slid down, his thumbs hooking under the elastic of her waistband. He tugged, and she lifted her round little ass off the bed on reflex. His hands guided her legs upwards, until her toes pointed at the ceiling. He threw the garment clear, and gave her a playful smack on the butt. Then he took one ankle in each hand, and guided her legs back down, feeling his way up her. He spread her legs as he brought them down, so that her hot pussy was spread before him again. He rested his cock against her, not in her, but feeling the heat radiating out of her.
Lisa mumbled softly.
“You’re begging for it ‘down there’,” he teased, and rubbed himself against her. She found herself hoping the tip of that massive dick might slip into her. “Look at this.” He slipped one hand between her legs, between her pussy lips, not deep, but running up along the length. Lisa shuddered with pleasure, and he traced the wet finger through the soft curling pubic hairs and up her soft pale belly.
“Please,” she heard herself moan.
“Please, Master, do it.”
He shook his head, and traced his fingers around her, not touching her little pink fire. “Do better.”
“Please, Master, kiss my … my cunt.”
He slide down her bed, resting his hands on her thighs, spreading her legs wider. “This cunt? This dirty little cunt.”
Lisa’s face burned. “Yes, Master. Please kiss my dirty little cunt.”
Gently, he kissed the outer lips. “But Lisa, is that all you want?”
“Do you want me to stick my tongue deep into your wet pussy?”
His words sent an electric jolt up her spin, and her back arched and she moaned. “Yes, Master. Please stick your tongue deep into my wet pussy.” He slide his rough tongue, flat and wide, over her, running it over her labia. “Yes, Master, please, like that!” Again, he ran his tongue over her, but this time, as her reached the top of her, he slid the tip under the hood to tease her clit. She gasped with joy. “Please, Master, can I move my hands.”
He ran his tongue over her again, and then again, coaxing her clit, arching her back. Her breathing came faster, but she kept her wrists crossed over her head. “Good,” he said between licks, “Girl.” Now he slipped his tongue between her lips, along the inside of her vagina. “You … may.”
His tongue was long, and his strokes were deep inside her. He stopped lapping the long way he had before, and now Lisa’s Master began thrusting into her with his tongue. It was longer than she imagined possible, as long as her fingers, probing deep into her. She held her hands over her head for an instant longer, ensuring he had really released her. He glanced up at her, and his pale eyes gleamed. She reached down, and intertwined her fingers into his hair. He kept thrusting his tongue into her, faster and faster, and she knew she would lose it before long.
She felt her breath coming in gasps now, and his shoulders rolled back and forward as he tongued deep against her vaginal walls, flicking out every once in a while to tease her clit. “Yes,” she heard herself moan. “Yes, yes, yes!” she shouted, and pounded one fist against the headboard. Her other hand was clenching through the Master’s hair, pulling him deeper, with that impossible rough tongue.
Just as the first orgasm shuddered through her, her hand found something strange. In his hair was a long, curving horn. As she came, her hot juices bathing his face, her fingers clenched around it, and her spine arched, and she couldn’t let go. When the waves of it ended, she felt the curving twisting shape of a spiraling … horn? It was growing out of his skull. How had she not seen it before?
Then another wave hit her, as his tongue, wide and flat, washed over her again. The whole bed shook. She heard a squealing, and realized it was her, as her every muscle shuddered in joyous release. Looking down, glowing, she saw them, the long ivory horns growing out of his head. The pale blue of his eyes had spread across his skin now, and his wet face was now a soft, luminescent blue. He grinned, and rammed his tongue back into her again.
A third orgasm rocked her body, leaving her almost unable to breath. Her legs felt like rubber as the aching pleasure drained from her, leaving her coated in sweat. She took three heavy, steading breaths, and stretched her whole body.