Post by killfrenzy on Sept 17, 2020 16:55:25 GMT -6
Back in the sunlit middle-class-middle-England, awaited his stay at home wife, the love-child of an art history tutor and a pornologist, born into comfortable wealth and has earned her keep throughout. She is your student-for-life, militant vegan who enjoys the smell of her own farts more so than the company of others. She once lived in a small ramshackle of a flat on the shores of the city with disposable income – and moved on to work for the council in the tragic reality of hitting the dreaded thirties. She lasted a few years in the offices before a psychotic breakdown surfaced and she fell off the radar and the metaphorical ladder she was a few steps up. It took three years of sick leave before she had become habitual to sitting around eating tofu hotdogs and rubbing kantaganite stones to ward off evil spirits whilst masturbating wildly with the soothing voice of Sting playing loudly.
Post by killfrenzy on Sept 19, 2020 16:07:00 GMT -6
"Come on Dannii, wake up," she cooed, lightly shaking her sister, who gave a mumble of something before she spoke.
"I'm awake, I'm awake," she muttered, raising her head and pushing her hair back, pulling herself up and turning to sit, being greeted by a nice good morning kiss from Kylie before she was handed her mug of tea.
"There, get something hot and wet inside you," Kylie teased with a smile, sipping her own tea.
"Not quite what I'd like but it'll do," Dannii replied with a sly smile, looking sideways to Kylie before taking a good mouthful of her hot drink. Dannii leaned slightly against Kylie, both girls sitting comfortably topless next to one another, drinking their tea, both quite rapidly finishing their mugs in a bid to wake up. Dannii leaned across Kylie to stand her mug on the side unit and then wasted no time in stopping off for a good snog on the way back, Kylie a little taken back at Dannii's enthusiasm.
Post by killfrenzy on Sept 20, 2020 15:17:09 GMT -6
"You like that?" Dannii growled, holding her hips tightly and pulling back.
"Yeah," Kylie muttered, unable to deny that she did, still feeling a little discomfort as she got used to it, jiggling a little as Dannii pushed in again, Kylie's back arching tighter. Dannii didn't wait for anything else and held them firmly together, starting to pump in and out of her older sister, the rubber cock hugged tightly by Kylie's anus, the tight sphincter squeezing down on it, Dannii using her thumbs to spread the firm cheeks a bit so she could watch Kylie's rear swallowing it. Picking up the pace a bit more she started to really pump Kylie's arse, seeing her sister wriggle a little underneath her, delivering increasing thrusts, till she gave one hard one, burying her strap-on in Kylie and holding it there, Kylie tensing up tightly, her wrists yanking against the cuffs and making them chatter as she let out a strained squeal, trying to pull away from Dannii slightly.
Post by killfrenzy on Sept 22, 2020 0:37:04 GMT -6
With his niece infected, I,R Shogun had no choice but to call for help from his major competitor in the market kakashi. They have contacted their top expert and hunter from the east, Kiger, a 3000 year old legend in her field. Kiger stood in Shogun's office as if she owned it, her knowing smirk was already grating on his nerves, and Shogun did not like having to bow down one bit.
"What you mean to tell me is that your company has had a detail of this monster this entire time, has been made aware of its presence here, and didn't share the information to Code-Runner," Kiger asked incredulously. Her commanding voice boomed around the office, startling Liv who was dozing in one of the visitor's seats after a furious masturbation session in the company toilets during the lunch break.
Last Edit: Sept 22, 2020 0:38:01 GMT -6 by killfrenzy
Post by killfrenzy on Sept 22, 2020 23:32:08 GMT -6
I'm Markie, well, I'm Markie now. 3 weeks ago I was targeted by group of witches, one of which transformed into a wraith which was determined to make me it's thrall. I upset it, and as punishment I was transformed from a 6ft 2 tall, masculine man into a 5ft 3 tall feminine boy. I'd come to terms with it and decided to embrace it, I had a cute little body with a fat ass and a boyfriend who loved seeing me in girly lingerie, which I loved wearing for him. I'd never in a million years guessed this was how life would have turned out, but here I am, a femboy riding my boyfriends dick. Jason had banished the wraith and taken on the responsibility of taking care of me, I couldn't be transformed back, nor could I stop getting really fucking horny every night as a consequence of the curse. But luckily, Jason was willing to help me out.
Here I was bouncing hard on his dick, wearing this lacy black lingerie he loved seeing me in, his hands grasped my thighs firmly, pushing me down onto him every time I bounced too high. My little cock was flopping around as I violently rode him. He smacked my behind hard and it made me lurch upwards, I let out an embarrassingly girly whimper as his huge member pushed it's way back inside me as he pulled me back down onto him. He was grunting and moaning louder, I found it irresistibly hot hearing him getting close to cumming. He let out a long moan and dug his hands into my thighs as I squealed. Cum filled up my ass as my load leaked out onto his chest. I fell onto him and we panted together, as we calmed, he planted a kiss on my head and I wrapped my arms around him. Jason was the best. His silver hair reflected in the dim light and his piercing blue eyes had a magical warmth. I loved him.
We lay in bed together that night, I felt more safe that I'd ever felt in my life with Jason's arms around me. I sighed in contentment as I fell asleep.
"You can never go back." The words haunted me from the dark side of an old room. I was standing in this house, I'd never seen it before. I looked around, faded, peeling wallpaper surrounded me, the floorboards were covered in dust, covering years of neglect and abandonment. It was night time, the only window in the room was pure black. I noticed something forming in the middle of the room, a cloud of gas, or soot. The black cloud took the monstrous shape of a beast, standing over 8 feet tall, towering over me, reaching out claws to block my exit as silhouetted tendrils shot from it's body like spears hurtling towards me. I couldn't move, it felt like I was trying to run through molasses. I looked on in fear as the claws closed in on me and I screamed at the top of my lungs as the...
I woke up abruptly, a cold sweat on my forehead. I was staring at the ceiling in our bed, Jason was fast asleep next to me. I sighed in relief, thank god, I thought it was real. I ran my hands gently over his face, I'd never had a dream like that before, but I'd probably been listening to too many of this big oaf's stories. I shivered, one of us had left the window open, it was fucking cold outside too, guess we kept ourselves warm last night, heh. I got out of bed, threw on a t shirt and shut the window. I looked out into the dimly lit street at how peaceful the town was at night. We lived in a ghost town for sure, there was no sign of life at all, the surrounding forest us felt impenetrable like a giant wall that hemmed the town in, but it hadn't stopped everyone from leaving, the few that remained kept to themselves. Maybe it was the rumour of witches or the weird mist that swept into town every few days, who knew, but the people had gone.
I looked out to the forest and remembered the cave I found out there last month. I wonder what's there now? Is the mirror still there? Jason said it was a portal that the wraith summoned to let it's followers pass through to worship it. I didn't understand most of what Jason was talking about when he got into the occult, it was all weird shit to me. I knew what I knew, I knew I got fucked out there, by a trans witch in a circle of candles and lots of hooded people were watching. I remember it being the most terrifying thing to ever happen to me. I shivered at the memory, or maybe it was just that cold. I got back into bed with Jason and cuddled up to him.
The next morning I woke up to an empty bed and the sound of crackling coming from the kitchen. Jason was cooking breakfast, oh yes. The sizzling of bacon and sausages pulled me to the breakfast table, Jason stood there, wrapped in a towel, he'd already showered! Didn't even invite me! The audacity! At least he was making me breakfast, I was cursed after all. He noticed me sitting at the table.
"Oh, look who's up!" he said, a smile stretching across his face.
"Look who showered without me!" I replied. He faked the look of being hurt and turned back to tend to breakfast.
"You're a big boy you can shower on your own now." he said, thinking I couldn't see him smirking.
"Oh yeah, but I don't want to, need someone to help me pick up the soap." I grinned.
He chuckled and got back to work, I watched as he cracked some eggs into the pan, flipping things and dramatically shaking salt and other seasoning's. I was just wishing the towel would drop, but it never did. He scooped his creation into two plates as the toaster popped up two crispy slices of bread. He laid it all on the table.
"You'd make a great wife." I said, innocently.
"If you weren't such a little pervert, I'd treat you even nicer." he replied, seeing my eyes staring at the front of his towel. Whoops.
"Hey, you have to be nice to me, I had a bad dream last night." I said, poking a sausage with my fork.
"Oh, tell me about it." he said, his tone changing to the more serious, I forget this kind of thing is his speciality sometimes.
"This giant shadow beast thing ate me. It was stupidly tall and had tentacles coming out of it's back." I explained briefly before tucking into breakfast.
Jason had paused to hear me out but my explanation apparently set him at ease and he cut into his bacon.
"Sounds like you've been listening to too many stories, I thought that was something serious for a second there."
I finished chewing my food.
"So it doesn't mean anything, it's not like, some kind of supernatural boogeyman that's going to come turn me into a cute little hat or something?" I asked, getting a little paranoid myself.
"Well..." he said, pausing and looking right at me.
"Well?" I asked, getting very nervous.
"Nope, sounds like something you dreamt up, or at least it's nothing I've ever heard of." he said, sincerely.
I kicked him under the table, the jerk! Got me all worked up! He chuckled and we finished our breakfast, I got dressed for work and walked in, opening up the store. I'd recently gotten my old job at the comic book store back, before the transformation I would sit at the counter all day and run the register, but now I was in charge of imports. The old guy who we'd been working for suddenly moved much further away, he'd been living in a cabin just outside of town but out of nowhere, he moved a hundred miles up north. Steve, my co-worker had taken over my old post since I was getting a fair amount of harassment on the register. I kept on correcting people about my gender and sometimes things just went really badly, so now I was in charge of getting new things and keeping stuff in stock, I had a little office in the back of the store, which was like a fort made of books at this point. I didn't like giving in, but I was happier to be away from people now.
I let myself in and walked past the counter to my spot and sat down, there were a lot of books to check and sign in, I never appreciated Steve's job until I had to do it, it was pretty complicated. But sometimes I'd get to read them, so it wasn't all bad. A few hours passed and I was on break, feet up at my desk eating a sandwich. I used to just space out for a while, there wasn't much else to do. Customers were a rarity nowadays.
As I sat there I started to realise how cold the room was, winter was definitely coming, there was a cold breeze coming in from somewhere. I got up and followed the cold air to a vent. I looked inside but all I could see was darkness. I thought all the air con units were shut off? I couldn't hear the fan rotating, but there were some odd sounds coming from the vent. I put my ear to it... was that... whispering?
"What're you doing Markie?" asked Steve, making me jump.
"Oh, there's strange noises coming from this vent, I had a look but I can't see anything in there." I replied.
Steve got down and listened to it, then gave it a hard tap and listened again.
"Sounds like rats or something moving around, it's a metal vent, sounds twist in confined spaces," he explained, "I'll have a look in the vent later."
I wasn't convinced, either way it was still cold. I turned the switch on the unit and the slats slid shut. It didn't stop the cold completely but it wasn't blowing through there now. It was good enough, I got back to work doing the imports, we weren't taking much in any more. People were leaving town at a rapid rate, I wanted to go too but Jason said he wasn't ready to go yet because he said we still had to investigate the caves I'd been to during the last incident, and I wasn't ready to do that yet.
Just before closing time Steve walked back into my spot, brandishing a flash light and an oven mitt.
"I get the flash light, but what's the oven mitt for?" I chuckled.
"I'm going to bake you... into a pie!" he yelled mockingly, with a fake sinister English accent.
I gave him a sideways look, come on Steve, just admit your afraid to handle rats with your bare hands. What a baby. He was physically the bigger man so he liked to act like it, even if he couldn't, it was adorable in a way. He always treated me like a girl though and whilst I liked Jason doing it, it felt weird with Steve because of how long I'd known him. I stood aside and let him get to the vent, he unscrewed the cover and pointed the flash light down into the darkness.
"Can you see anything down there?" I asked, leaning over him.
"Nothing yet." an echoey voice replied.
I pulled back and looked around the office, unravelling the secrets of the vent was a lot less interesting than I'd hoped. I stared upwards, we'd been short on storage space and comic books were stacked in boxes all the way up to the ceiling, some of them were wrapped up in plastic and some were just loose. We were taking them in on request, but we weren't selling a lot of them. Scattered about the place were some promotional posters and cardboard cut outs of characters I didn't know, my little desk had a small lamp on it and that was about it. I'd run out of things to look at, so I turned around and patted Steve on the back.
"Where does the vent even go?" I asked.
"It seems to turn at an angle and go straight down. I don't know if the store has a basement, but it seems to go down there," he pulled himself out the vent, catching his shoulder on a sharp piece of metal, he reeled back in pain, "shit!" dropping the flash light down the vent with a loud metallic clang.
"Are you okay?" I asked, checking his shoulder.
"Fuck, I dropped the damn flash light." he walked off to tend to his wounds.
I stepped up to the vent and had a look inside, at the bottom the flash light was still turned on, projecting light into the side of the vent. Blood dripped from the sharp metal and a few spots dotted the bottom. I let out a sigh, now we'd have to find a way into the basement to get it back. Great. I went to check on Steve who's injuries were "merely a flesh wound" according to him, he swore to find the some blueprints or something to find out where the vent lead to, before he packed up and went home, leaving me to lock up.
I finished off a few bits and approached the vent again for one last look at the flash light, I could still hear something like whispering coming up from below, it was unsettling. As I peered down a cold breeze hit my face like something letting out a long breath and nope, that was enough checking that out. I'd seen enough paranormal stuff now, don't want to encounter any haunted air vents or whatever, I was done. I closed the slats on the vent and locked up the store. Even 3 weeks later I still expected to find someone standing on the other side of the road looking back at me. It felt like someone was there, watching, but I couldn't see anything.
I walked home and realised how eerie the town was, shops were boarded up and areas I remember being popular in my youth were pretty much abandoned. I stopped outside a clothing store and pressed my face up to the glass, behind the shop window dummies at the front were a few sporting some deep purple lingerie with black lace on the lining, thigh high stockings and garter belts in the same colours, the kind of stuff Jason would devour me over. I drooled and realised the store had been empty for some weeks now, before pulling myself away from it and walking home.
When I got home, I opened the door to our place to find Jason sitting down watching TV. Disappointingly, he'd gotten dressed and was lounging around on the sofa in his sexy harness, a nice button up shirt and some black trousers and boots. He dressed like the kind of person you'd expect to see stabbing vampires in the heart with a stake, vaguely Gothic, his bright blue eyes and silver hair made him look older than he was, he was only 32. I was feeling cheeky.
I walked in front of the TV and straddled him.
"Oh hey there cute guy, how was your day?" he asked, pleased to see me.
"Almost went vent-exploring today, then Steve dropped a flash light into it and now we have to explore the basement tomorrow." I said, keeping it brief so I could kiss his face.
Jason's hand quickly found it's way to my ass and gave me a squeeze, ooh yes. I could feel things stirring underneath me, wait until he saw what I was wearing under my work clothes today. It was getting later and around 11pm every night the curse kicked in, it was hard to explain, but I was overcome with sexual arousal, it became hard to think or do anything properly because my body desperately craved penetration. I'd tried dildo's and butt plugs but nothing satisfied me like a hard cock. It didn't feel like much of a curse any more, Jason made me horny anyway. I kissed him hard and before I knew it, he had lifted me up off the sofa by my thick little thighs and carried me to the bedroom. He plopped me down on the bed and we made out for a bit before I pushed him back, it was time to show him what I was wearing. I stripped off my work clothes and he watched as I revealed my thigh high socks and tiny white panties, he was visibly hard. I smiled and looked down to the bulge in his jeans and licked my lips for him.
A few weeks ago I'd never imagine myself in this position, let alone in it willingly. I'd always considered myself straight, but things change I guess. I dropped to my knees as he unzipped his fly and pulled out his thick cock, I smirked up at him and grabbed his shaft, licking the tip of it, tentatively, like a lollipop. He knew I was teasing him and grabbed the back of my head and pushed me onto him, my lips parted as his cock was forced between them, deep into my mouth. I let out a moan of pleasure as my tongue slid along the underside of his dick until I could lick his balls. I looked up at him, he was really far down my throat and my eyes were watering, he pulled out and let me breath, but before long I was back on him again, bobbing my head up and down on his dick.
"You're such a... good cocksucker." he said, heavy breathing through the pleasure I provided.
I slid my lips off his dick with a pop and my mind started getting hazy, it must have been time. I tried to get up but I was getting a little weak in the knees, I needed to be penetrated, more than anything in the world. It was a burning desire to be filled, I couldn't explain it, my little dick got rock solid in my tight white panties and Jason sensed my predicament. Lifting me up and onto the bed he pushed me down onto all fours, my head buried in our pillows. I felt his hand reach between the crack of my cheeks to pull the fabric aside. I wanted this badly. His wet cock was touching my hole, I heard him snap open a bottle of lube and felt the cold liquid on my asshole before he pushed his way on in.
I let out a squeal of pleasure as his cock pushed into me, sliding deep inside. He pulled out nearly all the way before driving back in hard, his groin slapping against my ass as he started to work me, I felt complete, the pleasure centre of my brain was going crazy as I was fucked like a little bitch by my boyfriend's huge dick. I always pretended to be cute and innocent outside of work but Jason knew what I liked, grabbing my hair and pulling my face out of the pillows as he slammed into me.
I looked up at the window placed above the bed and through the slats, for a brief second, thought I saw something outside. A shape against the darkness. I was still under the influence of the curse and even though I saw something and should have said something, I just moaned louder with Jason's dick working the pleasure points in my ass. My eyes were rolling back involuntarily which made it hard to get a good look at what was outside, the shape seemed to take the form of a flying giant humanoid with a cats face, flapping giant feathered wings behind the slats in the blinds. I stared right into it's emerging eyes as I felt pleasure building up inside me, I whimpered and came, shooting onto the bed as Jason pulled out, stroking his dick fast, and shot cum over my back. I rolled onto my back and looked up at the window, my sanity returning to me.
"I saw something outside!" I yelled through my fast breathing.
Jason tucked his dick back into his boxers and quickly approached the slats, pulling them up to reveal a cloudy night sky, totally devoid of life. He peered into the darkness for a while before turning around to look at me in confusion.
"I swear there was something out there! Didn't you sense anything?" I asked, trying to prove I wasn't making things up.
"I can't sense anything when I'm inside you little guy." he replied, scanning the horizon for anything.
"It was like a big bird or something, it had these blue eyes and the face of a leopard." I explained.
"Hmm." he replied as he pulled the blinds shut.
He went into another room and produced a book from his back, cycling through the pages. I sat on the bed, feeling pretty vulnerable. After a few seconds Jason stopped on a page and showed me a picture of something.
"Is this it?" he asked. The picture was of a human with large feathered wings, it's body was contorted in the drawing and it's face was of a leopard, it was crudely drawn, but seemed very similar.
"Yeah I think so, what the hell is it? Is this the wraith thing again?" I asked.
"Not this time, this is Sitri, he's a fallen angel." he explained in a grim tone.
"A fallen angel?" I asked, I didn't really understand what any of this stuff was.
"This isn't good little guy. If that is what you saw, then that ritual you were in from before might have had something to do with this, or someone else has contacted Sitri to encourage you to sleep with someone." he explained.
"Why would they want me to sleep with someone?" I asked nervously.
Jason didn't reply and started looking through the book some more, I didn't like the sound of this. I sat on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, I didn't know what to think, a few weeks ago I would have said it was a prank but I've seen too much now. I thought back to the wraith shaking the room as I cowered behind Jason, using a medallion to absorb it's essence. I knew nothing of occultism. I felt helpless, I was relying on Jason to figure this stuff out. He gave me a reassuring hug and we cuddled that night in bed, but I didn't feel safe, even with Jason's arms around me. I stared at the window until I fell into asleep.
Post by killfrenzy on Sept 24, 2020 15:36:08 GMT -6
"Ayulestari? Are you awake?" I didn't respond. She moved closer to the bed, almost sneaking up to me. I was dying to know what she had in mind.
It didn't take long to find out, though. After a little hesitation, she reached out and put her hand on my thigh, just below my cock. Her hand was cool, and I almost jumped at the feeling, but I held it together.
It took everything I had to lie still and stay in that position. Her hand slid up, slowly but deliberately until she had my cock in reach. She touched it with just a finger, and my cock twitched in response. I couldn't help it. I was stunned that she had done that. But she didn't stop there. She rubbed my cock with her fingers, moving it around, watching it grow.
And it was growing. I had no control at this point. As I stiffened, she took it in her hand and I swear that I heard her moan. She stroked up and down the length and I was quickly getting to full staff. Her touch was so good, and she seemed to be enjoying the feel of my manhood.
Then I heard her say something under her breath. "God, it's better than I dreamed of." I about lost it. She had fantasized about me!
I moved then, like I was shifting in my sleep, and she jumped away quickly. But I did my best to keep up the appearance of sleep, and she quickly calmed back down and reached out again. She took my cock in her hand and was stroking my full length. If she kept it up, she was going to make me cum!
I decided it was time to see what happened next. I moved my arm away from my face and said slowly, "Um, that's a nice way to wake up baby." And then I opened my eyes and saw Nancy, and she saw me, and she jumped and flew out of the room! I never imagined she could move so fast!
Post by killfrenzy on Sept 29, 2020 22:54:13 GMT -6
St. Marie-Thérèse's Orphanage sat silently in the dark night, its outbuildings huddled against the approaching storm, bricks gleaming dully in the moonlight. No owls hooted. No night animals howled. All was still save the bobbing speck of red that belonged to Jonathan Hawkins, the sole security man, taking his ten o'clock rounds and having his hourly smoke. Even the sight of him, wandering about the grounds did nothing to calm her jangled nerves nor had the large shot of whiskey that she'd imbibed minutes before. He's here!
Sister Bernadetta stared out into the darkness, shivering from a combination of anticipation and apprehension, her hands trying to coax goosebumps back down from her smooth shell of skin. Her mind went back over his terse note: Tonight will be our special night. Be alone at ten. S. So it was to be tonight. Tonight, she would give her virginity to her lover and tomorrow morning, she would leave the orphanage, heading for her new life as Mrs. Stephen Rathbun. The children would be upset at her departure and the other sisters angry at the breaking of her vows but God would forgive her. God would forgive love.
Her thoughts were lost deep in fantasy until a soft knock on the door interrupted. She half-turned, muttering, "Come in."
Young Sister Evangeline stepped in, her wimple long discarded and her glossy brown hair flowing loosely over her shoulders. "I'm heading off to bed, sister. Would you be interested in some tea or are you going to bed, too?"
"No, thank you, Evangeline." She said quickly. "I'm going to go to bed in a few minutes."
Sister Evangeline started to back out but hovered in the doorway for a moment. Something was wrong. Over the past few weeks, a change had come over Bernadetta. She'd always been regarded as the strict disciplinarian at the school but lately, she had seemed to be, to find a better word for it, detached. Or maybe a better word was distracted. She would breeze down the hall without so much as a word to the other sisters and would ignore the children who crowded around her for a word of care. She offered none.
"Um, Sister Bernadetta?" She stammered, uncertainly. "Are you feeling well?"
"Yes, dear child. I am well." Sister Bernadetta turned back to her study of the darkness, allowing only the reflection of the glass to witness her wistful smile. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason." Sister Evangeline said quickly, intimidated by the woman. "I'll see you at morning mass then?"
"Good night, sister."
Now that the last and probably only interruption of the night was over, she prepared for his arrival. She removed her nun's outfit, carefully arranging the dress over the arm of the chair so that it would not wrinkle and carelessly tossed the thin slip into the clothes hamper. Shaking with expectation, she opened her bottom dresser drawer and pushed aside layers of clean, folded sheets to expose something long hidden: a bright red teddy, fashioned of silk and lace that had been carefully secreted there. Bernadetta lifted it by its spaghetti straps, rose to her feet and quickly slipped her naked, perfumed body into it.
Perfect. A little lotion and a quick hair-brushing and everything was in place. Sister Bernadetta extinguished the light and laid down in the bed, her wavy black hair spread across the pillow like a blanket, her lips wet and glistening. He's here! She closed her eyes and waited for her lover to come.
* * * * *
Hercule Poirot ignored the tinny sound of the bell and instead focused his attention back on his lepidoptery collection. He had been successful in locating a Common Blue butterfly and it was taking all of his concentration skills to properly mount the new arrival. He moved the magnifying lens closer to the board, lifted the tweezers again and bent to conquer the task at hand.
"Sacre Bleu!" Frustrated by the interruption, Poirot jumped to his feet, striding to the door, ready to spew vitriol on the person whose impertinence had disturbed his precious private time. Instead, he was quite flummoxed to find his dear friend, Captain Hastings, nattily dressed in tails and bow tie, his eyes shining with mirth.
"Good evening, Poirot!" Hastings brushed past him, heading into the heart of the apartment and all but ignoring the look of incredulity on the Belgian detective's face. "I've got some good news!"
"Hastings, my friend, can't you see that I'm busy?"
The captain turned, taking in his friend's state of dress, noticing that he was in his evening house wear: comfortable pants, paisley smoking jacket, undercoat and loosely-tied ascot. "What, do you have someone here? A girl, perhaps?"
Poirot's nostrils flared in anger. "Hastings ... "
"I knew you weren't busy, old chap!" He grinned, taking a seat in the office area and making himself as comfortable as he had every day for the last ten-odd years. "Besides, you'll forgive me when you hear my exciting news!"
Poirot sighed, taking his seat and pushing the delicate butterfly aside, covering it in its tiny glass case and placing the lid back on his collection. "What is it, mon ami?"
"I have tickets for Joceline Tarrant."
Poirot's face remained impassive and unchanged compared to the unbridled frivolity that brightened the captain's features. "Yes. And who is this Joceline Tarrant?"
"You've never heard of Joceline Tarrant?" Hastings sat back, rubbing his chin in disbelief. "She's absolutely brilliant!"
"I know of no Joceline Tarrant, Hastings." Poirot fought the urge to quickly usher the captain out but forced himself to remain calm, convincing himself that the visit would only last a little longer.
"Well, it's just as well that I'm here. Go and get dressed, Poirot. Tonight, you will sit at the feet of an angel." Hastings grinned at the tickets that he held aloft. "Tonight, you will hear the incredible voice of Joceline Tarrant."
Poirot rubbed his temples, avoiding his friend's gaze. He really was not in the mood for this. Not tonight. He just wanted the companionable solitude of a book and his favorite radio program. "I am afraid that I cannot accompany you tonight."
"What? You have to!"
"No, my dear Hastings, I do not have to do anything."
"Poirot, you can't say no. Not tonight. You don't realize what you'll be missing."
"Yes, I do, Hastings. I shall be missing the vocal stylings of Joceline Tarrant."
"And you'll be missing the most fantastic show you've ever seen." Hastings stood, approaching the desk. "Come on, old chap. I know that your tuxedo is clean and pressed. I saw Miss Lemon bring it in yesterday." Hastings smiled, patting Poirot's hand. "Please?"
And so, an hour later, Hercule Poirot, immaculately turned out in one of his best tuxedos, found himself at a front row table at Club Tropic, impatiently awaiting the debut of Miss Joceline Tarrant. "I cannot believe that I let you talk me into coming here, Hastings."
"You won't be disappointed when you see her. She's a marvel!" Just then, the stage lights dimmed, blue lights filtering through cigar and cigarette smoke and bathing the stage in magic. "Here she is now."
Poirot turned his attention to the stage, his eyes searching the smoky darkness. A blue spotlight snapped on, targeting a woman in a sequin-laden dress, her partially-exposed back to the audience. She was not overly tall but the dress hugged her ample curves, sloping over a nicely rounded ass and hinting at long legs beneath. Her arms were raised above her head, clad in sequined gloves, the fingers unencumbered and moving freely.
The strains of Cole Porter split the air as she turned and Poirot gasped. She was what they called 'coloured'. Her creamy chocolate skin seemed to sparkle in the light, her shoulder-length glossy black hair wavy and playing a poignant counterpoint to the sparkling dewdrop earrings that swayed from her earlobes. His eyes traveled down her flawlessly shaved armpits to her beautiful breasts that strained against the material and continued down to her shoes, her small well-formed toes pressing against thin leather straps.
"Mon Dieu." He breathed, unable to comprehend the beauty that was swaying just inches in front of him. Her deep brown eyes swept over the crowd, catching eyes here and there and her straight white teeth illuminated her already remarkable features. She sang two more Cole Porter tunes, then segued to Artie Shaw, Ella Fitzgerald and ended the set with Duke Ellington. Everyone in the packed room stood and applauded when the last set finished and she disappeared in a cloud of smoke, followed by her band mates.
"I say!" Hastings breathed, sipping his drink. "She's the cat's meow, all right."
"On that, we definitely agree, Hastings. Might there be a chance that we could have her join us, mon ami?"
Hastings' handsome smile stretched from ear to ear. "I'll see what I can do." With the jaunty gait of the British air force ex-captain that he was, he went in search of the mysterious beauty.
Poirot gave his friend a nod of appreciation and took out his cigar case, extracted a cigar and lit it, drawing the smoke in and trying to relax his nerves. Never before had he been so affected by a woman. Normally, he responded to women as he had been trained to, like they were the daughters of Eve, placed upon the Earth to give life and beauty. He had come close to engaging the thought of marriage but there was always something that kept him from making that final commitment. He had shared holding hands and stolen kisses but he'd never touched flesh nor consummated a relationship, something that seemed unseemly to him.
But now ... this beautiful woman stirred feelings in him that he'd never encountered, feelings that reached past his immaculate exterior and threatened to cause chaos within. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hastings approaching with the woman and his mouth suddenly dried up. He wanted to reach for his crème de menthe but he was afraid that he would spill it in his anxious state. He uncrossed his legs and sat up a little taller, keeping his eyes averted.
"Poirot?" He looked up and stood immediately, his legs quivering like pudding. "May I introduce to you Miss Joceline Tarrant."
Joceline Tarrant was definitely a beauty. The shy smile she offered traveled to her dark eyes, giving her a sultry look that she unabashedly cast upon Poirot. She raised her hand and he took it, pressing a long kiss to her soft knuckles.
"Hercule Poirot, at your service, mademoiselle." He clicked his heels together as he lingered over her hand, lifting his eyes to hers. "Would you sit with us?"
"Uh, no, monsieur." She said nervously. "I cannot stay."
"Pish-posh!" Hastings exclaimed, pulling a chair out and standing behind it. "Sit and have a drink with us. We promise not to keep you overlong."
"Well, all right." Joceline accepted the seat, watching as both men sat after her and Poirot motioned for the waiter.
"I must say, Miss Tarrant, I had not heard of you before this evening but I have thoroughly enjoyed myself. Your interpretation of Cole Porter ... c'est magnifique!"
"Thank you, Monsieur Poirot, but I do not do it alone. My band is instrumental in my success."
Hastings guffawed at her statement. "That's a great joke! Instrumental in your success ... that's just perfect!"
Poirot threw a look of consternation towards his excited friend and turned his attention back to Joceline as the waiter approached. "What would you like?"
"A glass of champagne, please."
The waiter's uncomfortable glance traveled from Poirot to Joceline to Hastings and back to the detective. "Uh, yes, miss."
Satisfied, Poirot again turned to her. "What brings you to the Club Tropico?"
"Just a quick stop. I'm heading to Paris next week to join my friend, Josephine Baker. She's offered me a chance to sing in her show."
"Ah, Miss Josephine Baker." Hastings smiled knowingly. "Another extraordinary young woman."
Joceline returned his smile. "That she is. I feel so lucky to have a chance to sing for her."
"It is not luck, mademoiselle. It is talent."
"Thank you, monsieur. You are too kind."
"It is not kindness, mademoiselle. I merely speak the truth."
None of the table's occupants noticed that the club owner, Harold Messing, was approaching the table, his hands fisted tightly together, but Joceline caught sight of him. She stood immediately, prompting both Poirot and Hastings to rise hastily. "Monsieur Poirot?"
"Yes. I am Hercule Poirot."
The beefy man introduced himself, extending his hand and shaking with the detective and with Hastings. "You ordered a glass of champagne for Miss Tarrant?"
"Oui. The waiter, he just took the order ... "
"Well, there's a problem."
"Poirot ... "
Poirot felt anger curdling his innards, sensing the acute embarrassment that Joceline was obviously feeling. He ignored Hastings' gentle warning, his Belgian ire seeking a ready outlet. "A problem, monsieur? We have no ... problem here."
"Well, there is a problem. We don't serve her kind in the main guest room."
The beauty of George Gershwin's music could not pierce the veil of silence that fell over the table and its occupants. Poirot fumed, his anger reaching to the core of his very being. "I don't believe I understand you, monsieur. You do not serve women?"
"We do not serve 'coloureds' in the main room, Mr. Poirot. Her kind has its own room in the back."
Seeing the anger in both men, Joceline spoke up, seeking to avoid confrontation. "Monsieur Poirot, Captain Hastings, thank you for the drink any way, but I must go."
"No, Miss Tarrant, don't leave on his account."
Joceline leaned close to Poirot, whispering, "If I don't leave, he might not pay us and my band needs the money." She placed her hand in his, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Thank you just the same, monsieur. I shall count this a lucky day to have met the great Hercule Poirot."
"And I to have met you, Mademoiselle Tarrant." He pressed another lingering kiss to her hand, slipping his card into her palm. "Please do not hesitate to call upon me if my services are required."
"Merci." Her husky thanks reverberated in his ears, long after she'd left the table. When he came back to himself minutes later, he turned to club owner Messing, arising and grabbing his gloves as he dismissed him with an angry look.
"Come, Hastings." Poirot's beady eyes burned with intense hatred. "It is time to take our leave."
* * * * *
A creak awoke her. She was a bit confused at first but then realized that she'd fallen asleep waiting for him. A shiver coursed through her body and she began to breathe more heavily, her heart thumping in her chest.
"Are you here?"
"Yes." Came his answer. "Close your eyes, my beautiful girl." She did as he requested, not objecting when he looped a swath of dark cloth around her head, covering her eyes. His hot breath burned where it touched her neck. "Have you been waiting for me?"
"Yes." Her voice sounded foreign, even to her own ears. She felt like a schoolgirl, on her first assignation. Nervous and unsure. "Do you like my nightie?"
"Oh, yes." His hands traced the silk-limned outlines of her lush body, moving over her heavy breasts and wide hips, dipping between her fleshy thighs to rub her soft mound, drawing a deep moan from her. "It's very naughty."
"I ... I thought you'd like it." She gasped softly, arching toward his touch.
"You are so beautiful, my sweet Bernadetta. You are pleasing to my eyes."
A rush of pleasure infused her skin with blood and she squirmed under his control, loving the heaviness of his hand. His lips pressed against hers and his tongue thrust inside, scouring her mouth. She quivered uncontrollably as his mouth and hands began a concerted assault of her untried body, lips and tongue searching her neck and collarbones and his hands roaming over her aching nipples and brushing against her awakened slit. Two of his fingers worked past the cotton and satin panel and slid into her pussy, making her body arch in response. Bernadetta had never felt anything like this before. Even though she'd masturbated, his fingers felt so different; an invader subjugating new territory and she completely surrendered without knowing what the consequences would be.
"Oh, yes, my love!" She bit back a groan as she came, her pussy squirting juices onto the pristine sheets. Her breath caught in her throat as spears of pleasure rippled through her body. She was recovering when she felt him crawl on top of her, straddling her body. "Yes." She whispered to him. "Yes."
His body covered hers, his heat permeating the sheer fabric of the teddy. Her hands moved across his strong shoulders and arms and weaved through the thick hair on his chest while she inhaled his heady musk. His teeth nipped at her ears, drawing the attention from her sodden slit. She felt his thick cock head rubbing against her fat nether lips, steadily pressing inward as it split them and gently moved inside.
"Oh!" His broad tool slid upward, scraping the sides of her muscles until she was trembling with want and the mushroom head pushed against her hymen. He broke through it without warning and she yelped in pain, clenching around his prick until his movements caused her to forget the momentary discomfort. She could feel how deep inside her that he was and she rejoiced in the breaching. She was no longer a virgin, no longer a bride of God. She was soon to be Stephen's bride.
"Yes!" The word rushed out of her mouth with the first of his most powerful thrusts. She leaned backwards, enjoying his sensual attack, gasping at the feel of his hands on her sensitive breasts. His cock moved in and out of her hole, not pausing in its quest for her cum and receiving a healthy portion as she came and came again.
Finally, she heard his voice again, soft and close to her ear. "I'm going to cum inside you, my sweet Bernadetta. I'm going to make you a mother."
"Oh, yes!" She almost squealed in glee. Her life's wish was about to be fulfilled. He was going to make her a wife and a mother. She couldn't ask for more. Her hips splayed further to accept his thrusts and her mouth opened to his, welcoming his intrusion. When his hands encircled her throat, she thought nothing of it. But then ... the pressure, the pain. "Stop."
He didn't seem to hear what she was saying. His thumbs pressed harder at the base of her throat, cutting off her respiration. She thought to thrash but his body had hers pinned, his rock hard prick ruthlessly splitting her open. A cry of desperation erupted and was quickly exterminated in her throat and her hands arose, searching for purchase on his shoulders or chest and finding none. As the dark edges of the scarf began to fade into gray, then to white and nothingness, she felt him stiffen with release, tripping her own and filling her womb with seed that would never find fertile ground. A great sigh and a last breath escaped from her unresponsive body.
And so Sister Bernadetta of the St. Marie-Thérèse Orphanage found her greatest orgasm just as the light died in her eyes. She would not become Mrs. Stephen Rathbun this day. She would only find the marriage of sex and death and neither would console her soul.