Based on an idea in the forum by Schlank: "She writes stories about every fetish she can think of: public nudity, bondage, forced lesbianism, spanking, sex in front of large audiences, incest, strip searches, body-cavity searches, kinky medical exams, etc., involving succubi, shape-shifters and mythical nations were men and women can be kept as slaves and be led naked down public streets on leashes. After she's written dozens of stories in her book, and filled every page with stories that are just dripping in shameless eroticism, strange things start to happen to her."
*****
I was always the shy girl, gangly and introverted as a child, and much the same as an adult. I lacked any significant beauty, and lacked too the curves that made my friends so attractive to boys. My breasts were barely an A-cup, and seldom bared at all, and although my nipples could be wonderfully sensitive, my clit certainly wasn't.
A string of inadequate boyfriends had failed to satisfy me, and had taken my inability to climax as a personal criticism. I lacked the courage also to suggest more adventurous forms of sex; it takes time to develop the trust you need before you can ask a lover to tie you up, clamp your nipples and fuck your ass without mercy. For example. I had no idea whether I'd enjoy that.
At the age of twenty-four, I certainly wasn't a virgin, but my few experiences were vanilla, and I still hadn't had a proper orgasm.
My fantasy self, on the other hand, was wild. Bisexual. An exhibitionist. A nymphomaniac. A total cumslut and size queen. I shared my erotic fantasies with no one, but I wrote them in my journal. Sometimes just a phrase that I liked, or a paragraph sketching out an idea to explore later. Sometimes detailed stories going on for pages.
Some of it was almost romantic. Some of it outright horror, such as the one where a coven of vampires kept thousands of men tied up helpless and in a constant state of orgasmic bliss (perhaps not such a bad fate), their endlessly streaming cum flowing through long, clear, plastic tubes, to be deposited in glass bottles. (But that one was never more than a fragment of an idea. Once I'd got the image in my head of a vampire pouring milky cum over his cornflakes, I hadn't been able to take the eroticism of it seriously.)
And I even had a special journal for keeping all my secret fantasies. It was beautiful and perhaps ancient, perhaps even from the nineteenth century, leather-bound with tracings of silver, and with thick paper inside. I got it for a bargain in one of those witchcraft shops that sell crystals and candles and such stuff.
The smell of the leather and the texture of the paper made writing my fantasies a much more intimate experience than if I had just typed it at the computer at home. I spent hours every week at the cafe near my apartment, nursing my latte and cheesecake as I scribbled down scenarios that would have shocked anyone reading over my shoulder.
But that was just part of the fun.
So it was with no little regret that I found myself on the last page. I doubted I would find another such journal - at least, not at an affordable price.
"While I sipped champagne, affecting indifference," I wrote, "he parted my legs to give the driver a clear view up my skirt, and his immaculately manicured fingers teased their way ever closer to my impatient clit. 'I want you again,' he growled softly. 'One more time, before I let you escape...'"
I chose to leave it there, a suitable ending. I slipped it into my bag and stood to go, and collided with a young man who quite took my breath away.
Some people, when you first meet them, and fall for them, can seem so perfect they steal the focus of your world. Danny was like that. His blond-haired blue-eyed good looks could have made him a film star, and his easy confidence and Irish charm made his every word and move seductive.
He was out of my league. I knew that immediately. But then he smiled at me and I was lost. I knew right then that I would do anything, absolutely anything, just to keep him smiling at me. I don't remember what we said, or what we talked about, but as we parted, to go our different ways, he asked me to be his date that evening.
Of course I said yes.
But to a magic show? What was I supposed to wear to that?
"As little as possible," he said with a cheeky grin, making me blush. I really hadn't intended to ask it out loud.
He picked me up at seven, arriving in front of my apartment block in a limousine. He wore a cream-coloured suit, clearly bespoke, and I felt completely out of my depth in my store-bought blue summer dress, but we kissed and drank champagne and I yielded to the Cinderella fantasy of the moment.
His fingers caressed my thighs, and I wondered if he would part them to show my knickers to the driver. I wondered how I would react if he did. But this was real life, not fantasy. Improbable as our romance was, the chances of any of my erotic fantasies coming true was practically zero.
How wrong I was.
*
I was woken by Diane jumping on my bed and straddling me. "You fucking slut!" she shouted.
"What the fuck, Diane!" I shouted back, trying to shift her off me, without success.
She tapped her phone and showed me the screen. It was a video of a magic trick, clearly filmed by a member of the audience with a seat near the stage. You know that trick where the magician saws a woman in half?
The twist here was that the woman was an audience member. "I need a couple of volunteers," the magician had announced. "Preferably a couple. Preferably a young, attractive couple." Danny raised my hand for me, ignoring my shriek of protest, and then the whole theatre was waiting for me to come to the stage with him.
If being on the stage in front of such a large audience was terrifying, having the whole audience waiting impatiently for me to stand up was even more so. I yielded, and allowed him to lead me onto the stage. The magician had flashed a warm grin as he guided me to the box.
"What's your name, gorgeous?" he asked.
"Clara," I said, quiet as mouse.
"Clara! Welcome! Don't worry about a thing. Now, squeeze yourself through here."
It was not a big box, and it was quite a tight fit for my shoulders, but I managed to wriggle through until the box was around my waist.
It was at this point that the video started. There I was in the middle of the stage, with my head, arms and chest projecting from one side of the glittery red box, and my bum and legs projecting from the other. "That's you, isn't it!" Diane said.
I said nothing, but I could feel the heat in my cheeks. What I hadn't known at the time is that while I was threading myself through the box, my date was undressing in preparation. The audience's gasp I attributed to the huge square blade that the magician was wielding as he prepared to cut me in half.
Even in the video, the panic in my eyes was clear. "Trust me," the magician said soothingly, "you won't feel a thing."
Which wasn't exactly right. I felt a constriction, as if my waist had been gripped by a thick band, holding me firmly in place. The magician had then pulled the box forward, and turned me to face the audience - which was strange, because I didn't feel my legs move at all.
"How did you do that?" Diane asked. Quite clearly, the two halves of me were separate.
That was the moment that I had realised Danny was naked - and very erect. And standing behind what looked like my legs. I lifted my left foot to see what would happen, and I saw it move.
I shrugged. "Mirrors, I guess."
If I was astonished at this division of myself, I was baffled to see my date standing there naked. Why had he undressed? Had he been hypnotised? Was it legal to be erect in public? In front of children? The audience's agitation was loud in my ears, but as I searched the faces there, I could see no children. Clearly this was a much more adult magic show than I had realised.
Dropping onto his knees, Danny lifted my skirt up over the box, exposing my bare legs to full public view, and kissed my thighs and cheeks as he teased my knickers down about my ankles. I was so shocked by this sudden exposure that I froze. I didn't know how to react.
And his lips felt so good against my skin.
The whole performance was unreal. How could I have been cut in half? Was I really half-naked in front of a huge theatre audience? It was almost as if I were in one of my own stories, helpless and about to be ravished for the enjoyment of others.
Danny's mouth pressed against my pussy, his nose against my clit as his tongue swept lovingly between my labia. In the video, the astonishment in my eyes gave way to lust. "This has got nearly a million hits on Youtube," Diane said, laughing.
My cheeks were burning. My fantasy-come-true, that I hadn't quite believed at the time, had been watched by a million people? And now there were probably men wanking over it? Why did the idea of that make my clit throb with need?
You couldn't see clearly in the video how expertly Danny was working my clit. You could only see his face buried between the bare cheeks of my ass, while I made frantic and funny expressions with my face. This continued for two minutes and thirty-six seconds, according to the bar at the bottom of the screen.
Danny stood up, lined his cock up for entry, and inserted himself slowly. The 'Oh!' of surprise on my face was classic. There had been a smattering of laughter from the audience at that point, but I cared only about the fact that I was penetrated by a cock that was thicker and longer than any I had previously experienced.
Big cocks were something I often wrote about, but had never actually had the opportunity to evaluate. For it to be happening in such an odd way was, well, oddly frustrating. I'd wished I could stop everything and have a proper look, and take my time and enjoy it, somewhere safe and private.
Instead, I had thousands of faces staring straight at me as Danny thrust ever deeper, settling quickly into a steady rhythm. Trapped as I was by the box, I couldn't really move. I was being fucked. I wasn't fucking.
In the video it was almost comical. Danny was basically fucking a pair of legs attached to nothing, while the top half of me panted, my arms waving about uselessly.
I really can't say I didn't enjoy it. I've always believed that size doesn't matter, and that's it's how you use it that matters, but nothing, I was discovering, compares to a big cock used with true expertise.
"Let's make her come, Ladies and Gentlemen," the magician said. "Altogether now: Come! Come! Come!"
A section of the audience picked up the chant, and soon the rest joined in, thousands of voices calling out to me, "Come! Come! Come!" while Danny's cock pounded me with savage delight. In the video I could see saliva trailing from my mouth while my hands pinched at my nipples through my blouse.
"I wish I'd been there," Diane said. "I'd have freed your breasts and sucked your nipples for you."
And then Danny was coming inside me. We'd never had sex before, we'd never talked about protection. I'd only just met him that day! And yet he fucked me live on stage and came inside me. "Fuck!" I screamed as the sensation of his cum spurting deep inside me triggered the climax that the audience had been begging for, and indeed that I had been waiting for my whole life.
The audience was abruptly silent as they all watched me and listened to my cries of pleasure. My first ever orgasm, deliciously intense, prolonged by Danny's wonderfully thick cock pulsing brilliantly inside me.
Applause and cheering broke out as my orgasm tailed off. As Danny withdrew carefully, the magician swivelled me back into place, until I felt the clamp release and I was able to extract myself from the box. I stood next to Danny, half-naked and shell-shocked. Danny grinned fiercely as he waved to the audience, but then he turned to me and kissed me, and in that moment I was utterly content.
Diane laughed. "You can see the cum dripping from your pussy," she said, pointing at the screen. She looked around the room, spied my knickers on the floor by the bed, and snatched them up. "They're soaked with cum!"
"Don't!" I cried as she put them to her nose and sniffed.
She collapsed onto the bed next to me, laughing hysterically. "I can't believe I'm sharing an apartment with a world-famous porn star."
"I'm not," I whispered lamely.
"You are now."
*
"Why did you do that?" I demanded in a whisper as we made our way back to our seats, uncomfortably aware that his cum was soaking through my knickers and making my thighs slippery. And everyone was still looking at me. I would have run - to the bathroom, or just away - except that that would have been even more humiliating.
"Why didn't you tell me not to?" he'd replied, and I couldn't think of a good answer.
In the back of his limousine, on the way home, Danny told me he was falling in love with me, even though we'd only known each other a few hours. It wasn't like he was trying to get in my pants - he'd already been there. He seemed completely sincere, despite me feeling right then like a cheap hooker, a pair of legs with a pussy that anyone could fuck.
My beautiful, billionaire boyfriend parted my legs, tugged my knickers to one side, and slipped a finger into me. "I want you again," he murmured, "one more time, before I let you escape back to your life." He kissed me deeply while caressing my clit, and I melted in his embrace.
His cock was hard and slipping into me again, before I even knew he had freed it from his trousers. "God you're big," I whispered as he thrust in easily.
"I loved fucking you on stage," he said. "I love a girl who loves an audience."
It wasn't until he was driving me once more to orgasm that I noticed that the limousine driver was watching the whole thing.
*
How odd it was that two of my recent fantasies should have come true in the space of one day, without me ever setting out to make them real.
I picked up my journal and leafed through it. Turning to the last page, I read: "'I want you again,' he growled softly. 'One more time, before I let you escape...'" It sent a shiver down my spine. Danny had used those exact words.
He had seemed like a dream come true - maybe he was exactly that. A dream. A fantasy. Was Danny even real?
I phoned him. "Morning, sweetheart," he said. "Hey, how would you like to do that trick again? Seems everyone at the club here has seen that video of last night. For some reason, the idea of fucking a pair of legs, unattached to a real woman, has got them all excited."
I was speechless for a few seconds. "Are you suggesting I let your friends fuck me as if I'm nothing more than a pussy?"
"Well, my first thought was just to buy them a doll and let them do what they wanted with it. Bunch of pervs, if you ask me. But, you know, if you're up for it, I'd love to watch."
"I'll think about it," I said, and hung up.
I flicked back a few of pages in my journal and read: "He ordered me to bend over, my breasts squashed against the cold, polished mahogany of the conference table, while his partners lined up, ready to use me. I meant nothing to them as a person. I was just pussy to be used while my master watched from the side. I wanted him to watch. I wanted him to see how completely I belonged to him, even if that meant I was given completely to others."
If my fantasies really were coming true, I dreaded to think what would happen next.
*
I didn't have to wait long to find out. Diane's scream from the bathroom brought me running, but I found her wrapped in a towel and blushing furiously. "Sorry," she said quickly. "It's nothing. I thought I saw a spider."
She didn't look like someone who had just seen a spider. She looked like someone who was desperately trying to hide something - and I had more than a sneaking suspicion. "What is it?" I insisted. "You can trust me."
Inevitably there was a moment when it was no longer possible to pretend that all the sudden strangeness in my life was just a series of coincidences. And this was it.
Diane allowed her towel to fall to the floor.
The first thing I saw was how much her breasts had grown, her usual B cups now at least DD, and with huge nipples that jutted out proudly. Something else jutted out proudly, and that too was huge. Indeed, Diane's cock was at least the equal of Danny's.
"My parents always said this might happen one day," she said. "Apparently it runs in the family."
Maybe, I thought to myself, but it's also written in my journal. A fantasy of sharing an apartment with a futa, and of having to serve her in every conceivable way. It was not something I had ever wanted to actually happen, any more than I had wanted to be fucked in front of a huge audience by my billionaire boyfriend. Had I done this to Diane with my words?
And was there any way to undo it? Could I erase the words from the book?
"Wait there," I told her, and ran to my room, frantically searching for the futanari fantasy. I found it in the middle, written in black ink. Not a hope of erasing it. And the page resisted my efforts to tear it out.
Somehow, I wasn't surprised. Either I was completely insane, or powerful magic was at work. In neither case was the solution likely to be as simple as tearing a page out of a book. "Fuck," I muttered.
Diane was standing in the door of my room, stroking her new cock idly while she observed me with amusement and undeniable lust. There was something fiercely beautiful about her, and although I really wasn't into women, the thought of submitting to that cock was stirring quite a heat in my loins.
"I know you want it," she said.
I opened my mouth to object, and then closed it again. It was my fault she was a futa now. It would be cruel to deny her completely. "Let me undress first." If I knew anything about futa sex, this was going to get messy.
Fortunately, I was still in pyjamas, and quickly undressed. Diane threw me onto the bed and pounced after, positioning herself between my parted legs and guiding her cock to my pussy. "I've wanted to do this for years," she said. "I just never had the equipment for it."
In this position, her newly enlarged breasts looked enormous. I couldn't resist the temptation to put my hands on them, to feel if they were real. The certainly felt real. I squeezed her nipples gently, as she thrust into me.
She was definitely thicker than Danny, and longer too. Indeed, it was so thick that it had to be worked in inch by inch, and every inch astonished me. It's one thing to write about being stretched by futa-cock, but quite something else to experience it. It excited me in a way that sex never usually did for me.
I had discovered the key to pleasure: Big cocks. The bigger the better.
Diane pulled out slowly, and thrust in again hard, penetrating even deeper. "Fuck!" I hissed, though whether in praise or complaint I wasn't sure. I also wasn't sure whether any other cock could ever satisfy me again. "Fuck me," I begged. "Hard!"
And of course she did. It took her her few more thrusts before the combination of her precum and my own increasing excitement made it easier, but she was soon pounding deep and hard, her cock somehow pushing deeper into me than my cervix - not through, but past. That so huge a cock could bury itself in me entirely was thrilling.
Diane was tireless, her expression one of pure joy. "I love this," she said. "I'm going to come soon." She didn't slow down, but just maintained her rhythm, until I felt her stiffen.
It was like a cannon blasting within me, a torrent of cum firing into my depths. I cried out as I surrendered to my own climax, and we convulsed together in an ecstasy than continued on and on.
Diane withdrew slowly, and as the head of her cock slipped out, it was followed by a gush of cum. She flipped me over onto my hands and knees, and thrust in again. She was as hard and vigorous as before, and I realised this was just the beginning.
*
Satisfied a long last, Diane curled herself around me and slept. Once I was sure she was unconscious, I slipped out of bed and staggered through to the bathroom. My vagina ached from the rough usage, and my thighs and pussy were slick with cum. My face and breasts too, for she had made good use of my mouth. I had swallowed so much cum that my belly felt quite full of it. If she had spared my ass, it was only to save it for later.
I would gladly have slept too, but instead I showered quickly, dressed, slipped my journal into my bag, and escaped my apartment before it was too late. Even if it was my fault Diane was a futa, I had no wish to spend my life as her personal fuck-toy, fun though that might be.
No, I needed to try and understand what was happening, and destroy the journal - even if I had to cast it into the fire of some ancient volcano.
While nursing a double espresso in my usual cafe, I studied the magical book. I had bought it in a witchcraft shop, though I hadn't thought it was real magic. No one believes in that, after all. Where exactly the shop was, however, I couldn't recall.
The book was leather-bound, with silvery designs and words of mystery. I had assumed it was decorative, but perhaps it was the key to the riddle. My fingers traced a circle on the inside back, my lips mouthing silently the words inside that I tried to make out: "Nrwalleyn tal paeolin sadar ca prawsprah."
A woman's voice cut through my intense concentration. "You missed the bit about drawing a circle."
I looked up, startled at having a companion at my table, and even more startled that she was quite naked. She was lithe and sensual, and her breasts were perfectly shaped. A divinely proportioned figure. With midnight blue skin and long black hair. That she was literally from out of this world, something supernatural, was without question.
"What delightful chaos you are causing," she said. "Imagine writing such wild and explicit fantasies in book of alchemy!" She roared with laughter, ensuring that the few people who hadn't noticed her yet could ignore her no longer. "A hundred years I've been imprisoned in there, and now you unleash me into the human world without any binding. I'm almost inclined to be grateful."
Men were gathering around her, some scratching their crotches where their trousers were obviously tented, some taking it a step further, extracting their hard cocks and rubbing them. "Such a busy world," she said. "So many men to feed me."
She stood and bent over, clearly offering herself to those gathering behind her, and one man rushed forward.
"This isn't one of my fantasies," I said.
"No," she agreed, "but it could be."
I screamed as a cock thrust into me, filling my vagina with one fierce thrust - except it wasn't mine. It was hers. I could feel the man fucking her, could feel him in her as if he were in me. There was no gradual warm-up, no gentle preparation, just a ferocious hammering away at her pussy.
She grinned at me, her breasts swinging enticingly with each impact of the cock. "Stop it!" I pleaded, but she just laughed.
The man cried out, and I felt him coming inside me, his cum filling me, his cock jerking wildly, for longer than I'd ever known a man to last. Then he pulled out and stumbled away, gasping desperately for breath. His place was swiftly taken by another, and a different cock, shorter and thicker, slammed into me.
Looking into my eyes, she teased her nipples, and electric pleasure radiated from my own. I could feel cum trickling down my thighs. I jumped as a man's finger forced itself into my ass. No one was actually touching me, but I was receiving the dirtiest fuck of my life, and despite my horror at this virtual violation, I was beginning to enjoy it. I had to get away.
"Join me," she said. "It's the only way to save your world..."
I rejected her offer. I shouldn't have.
I escaped past the ring of semi-naked, frantically masturbating men, and past the ring of women whose expressions ranged from fearful and confused to frankly homicidal, and out into the street, but I could still feel everything that happened to the blue woman.
I ran, and ran, as best I could. It's difficult to do anything when there's a cock hammering away at your pussy and another fucking your throat, and two more being stroked by your hands while an assortment of hands and fingers maul your breasts and tug at your nipples and thrust into your ass...
The sensations faded gradually, until all that was left was my very own throbbing need to be fucked. As if I hadn't spent the whole morning getting my brains fucked out.
I phoned Diane.
"Clara!" she shouted. "Where the fuck are you? I need you!"
"The cafe," I said. "Meet me in the cafe."
A futa and a succubus - if that's what she was. Maybe they'd cancel each other out.
*
I was tired, and hungry. The only thing I'd had to eat or drink, apart from a bellyful of cum, was a coffee - and I hadn't finished that. So I hailed a cab. "I need a hotel," I said. "Anywhere east of here." Away, in other words, from the cafe.
We set off and I allowed myself to relax a little. Hopefully the day's weirdness was over. The driver turned to take the road through the park, which was normally quite busy, but not then. "Where is everyone?" I asked.
"Curfew soon," he said, as if that explained anything.
As if it explained why there were no streetlights, when there had always been streetlights.
Reality was still shifting around me, affecting the whole city now. My erotic fantasies becoming true, although I couldn't think why there would be a curfew, or a sudden absence of streetlights. Unless...
I peered up through the trees just in time to see the bright triangular craft move into place above us, and then the taxi died, the lights going dark, the engine silenced, the vehicle itself halting with a mechanical whine. Even the driver slumped to one side, unconscious at the wheel.
I remained conscious, my senses still alive but my body unresponsive, as I was lifted up a beam of light, passing through the solid roof of the car as if it were nothing. Up above the trees, until blinding white light enveloped me and time became meaningless.
*
The table beneath me was cold as steel against my naked flesh. My legs were stretched wide, my knees raised slightly. Spotlights shone at me from all directions, so bright that everything else was dark. Shadows moved within the dark, their forms indistinct.
As before, I was awake, and yet unable to move. I didn't even have a desire to move. Which is not to say I didn't panic as metallic serpents descended on me. Two aimed for my nipples and swallowed them, exerting a firm suction and vibrating gently. A third aimed for my normally insensitive clit, treating it likewise. My panic was washed away by this blissful assault.
More serpents descended, their tips needle-sharp, penetrating my flesh, paying particular attention to the edges of my areolae. I would have flinched away if I could. I would have tensed up for sure, but I remained perfectly still as needle after needle pierced my skin. Each was but a momentary agony, the pain forgotten an instant later.
A slender tentacle explored my pussy, then slowly delved within, pushing deeper and deeper. A second tentacle dropped down from above, coiling about the first as it slithered its way into me. Then a third, and a fourth, and more and more. I lost count, but I could feel my vagina being stretched and opened.
It wasn't sex. It was alien gynaecology. It wasn't just my vagina being opened up either. I could feel the tentacles penetrating into my womb, teasing my cervix open bit by bit. It was the strangest sensation.
I knew what was about to happen, of course. I had written it. Alien abduction, tentacles, impregnation. What I hadn't written, yet, was the sequel in which the alien egg would be removed. What did that mean for me? (At least I hadn't got around to writing my other alien fantasy, the one where I was stolen away from the Earth and given to every vine and slime across the galaxy.) The way my fantasies-become-real were mixing, anything could happen next.
The continuous sucking and vibration of my nipples and clit was keeping me very pleasantly distracted from my anxiety over the alien operation. I felt almost like a spectator rather than a participant. Abruptly, though, the suction became extreme, and it felt like knives were slicing into me. Inside my head, I screamed - though my body remained calm and relaxed.
And I guess that was the moment that the egg was implanted. Dimly I was aware of the tentacles slithering out from me, one by one, and retreating up into the shadowy dark.
As I spiralled into unconsciousness, my last awareness was of the incredible fullness of my womb, and the knowledge that I was with child.
*
I was naked in the park. Not far from where the taxi had stopped, but the taxi was gone. Along with my handbag and phone, and also the journal. What hope was there now of undoing the magic that was tormenting me?
Not that I felt any animosity towards the new life within me. A blue glow emanated from within my swollen belly. My alien baby.
I was secretly thrilled by the fact that my breasts had doubled in size - and, unfortunately, also in weight. They had grown to at least a C-cup. I was less thrilled that my nipples had expanded too. Worse, they were pierced now with rings that glowed blue, and were incredibly sensitive to the touch. My clit was likewise pierced with a glowing ring. Every move I made seemed to excite it in an endless tease. Although I had always bemoaned its insensitivity, I still cursed myself for ever thinking a pierced clit could be fun. Any touch now was almost too much.
The park was dark and quiet. The night was cold, and I was starving. Even naked as I was, I had to make for the lights. I would find something to wear, find a phone and call Diane or Danny or one of my other friends, if I could remember their numbers. I hoped people would help a pregnant woman, even if her unborn baby was glowing blue.
A car pulled up beside me. A police car, I noted with relief. "Thank God, Officers," I said to the two policewomen. "I'm so glad to see you."
"Past curfew," the shorter one said.
"Well past," the other said.
I still had no idea what the curfew was all about. "I, er, was abducted by aliens." I had the evidence to prove it.
"No excuse," the first one said dispassionately. "You'd better come with us."
One minute later, I was in the back of their car and being taken into the city. My wrists handcuffed behind me. I was under arrest. Yet another fantasy, and I really wasn't looking forward to this one.
Ten minutes later, I was being processed. They gave me nothing to wear, and ordered me to shut up every time I tried to ask anything. The shorter one, Officer Braiden, said, "We'd better search her."
Her partner, Officer Grant, nodded, and bent me over. I didn't dare put up a fight. I didn't even mind it really. I knew they were only following any of half a dozen scripts I had written. I just hoped they wouldn't hurt me.
But I couldn't help whimpering as Grant's fingers pushed into me. What I didn't anticipate was how good it would feel as she brushed against my pierced clit. "This slut is so fucking wet," Grant said, forcing her hand into me, and forcing a moan of lust from my lips.
"Find anything?"
"Not yet." Grant worked her hand in deeper, while I tried to resist the impulse to push back. "Nah, she's clean."
"Better check her ass too."
A finger forced its way in, making me squirm in discomfort. "No point. She's so tight she must be a virgin."
Officer Braiden chuckled. "Not for long."
*
The cell door slammed shut behind me, leaving me alone with three women. I was still naked and handcuffed, and starving, despite my pleas for clothes and food. The three women looked like biker chicks, all leather-clad and sporting tattoos and piercings. I could see their hunger for me in their predatory eyes.
"Hi," I said. "Let me guess. Jo, Erika and Tam."
Jo, their leader, a muscular woman with short black hair, snorted. "Congratulations, bitch. You get a prize. You get to suck my dick." She unzipped her trousers and a thick black strap-on cock emerged.
I glared at her without even looking at it. "I've had bigger."
Jo scowled. "Who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?"
"Look, just get me some proper food to eat first, and then you have me any way you like, for as long as you like."
She stared at me icily for a few seconds, but I refused to flinch. Her expression softened and she laughed. "You've got balls. I like that."
She walked over to bang on the cell door, and after a minute a voice demanded, "What?"
"We're hungry."
"Again? Whatever. Five minutes."
This, I supposed, was one upside. I knew my characters. Jo and her gang would have their way with me, I couldn't stop that, but at least I could use her friendship with the cops to some advantage.
And one downside, as I was reminded five minutes later, was the way my life was turning into an almost predictable sequence of erotic tropes.
There is no elegant way to eat sausage, mash and gravy when your hands are cuffed behind you. Erika, the tall blonde with the Swedish accent (of course), had me sit on her lap. "If you want it, let's see you suck it," she said, holding up a sausage.
I was so hungry, I didn't care how humiliating this was, or should be. I wrapped my lips about the meat and showed my appreciation, licking and sucking for a few seconds before savagely biting the end off - which they found hilarious.
Despite having never seen these women before, I loved them. They were recurring characters in my fantasies, a trio of man-hating lesbian bikers. I didn't, on the other hand, find them sexually attractive. I wasn't wired that way. But the idea of being their sex slave was still exciting.
Erika teased my overgrown nipples with gravy-coated fingers, and I whimpered as she twisted and tugged on my nipple rings. "Where did you get these?"
"Aliens."
"Cool. This one too?" She flicked the ring in my clit, and I jumped like I had received an electric shock. "How sensitive you are! I love it."
She fed me the rest of the sausage, along with a forkful of mash, then sucked on my nipples while my mouth was full. Those alien nipple rings made every touch a hundred times more intense. By the time my hunger for food was assuaged, my hunger for her fingers had grown almost intolerable. "Make me come, please, Erika," I begged, over and over.
"Get on your knees," Jo instructed.
Jo had stripped while I ate and I marvelled at the tapestry of ink and piercings. She was a work of art beyond even my imagination. "You're beautiful," I murmured, as I slid off Erika's lap onto the cold, concrete floor. My fantasies might be the template for this twisting reality, but the details went far beyond my words.
"Just suck it, bitch." She pressed her black, silicone cock against my lips. I opened obediently, and moaned appreciatively as I licked and sucked at the head. "I can't believe what a horny little slut you are," she said. Pushing deeper into my mouth, she added, "Get it nice and wet."
Out of the corners of my eyes, I saw Erika and Tam stripping too. Tam also wore a strap-on, but hers was more feminine, pink and slender. It matched the pink dye of her hair, and her pubes. Her tattoos were more floral too, and she was definitely the prettiest of the three.
Erika was clean-shaven, and her labia and clitoral hood were threaded with gold rings. As soon as Jo finished with my mouth, Erika ordered me to make her come. Without my hands to balance me, this proved very difficult, and the concrete was soon killing my knees. But I put my mouth to work, licking the tender folds of her pussy, teasing the gold rings, sucking on her clit, doing my best to penetrate her with my tongue.
Jo, of course, did not leave me alone. She positioned herself behind me and thrust easily into me. Between the thickness of her silicone cock and my new hypersensitive clit, I was in heaven. This, I understood, was how sex was supposed to feel. So good, in other words, that each thrust was utterly satisfying, and yet also never enough.
Yes, my knees ached, but I would endure it for the sake of Jo's divine fucking.
Tam squatted next to me, pulling on one nipple ring or the other, pulling so hard sometimes that I squealed in complaint and feared she might do real damage to me.
Erika's pussy was so wet. Her juices filled my mouth, and I swallowed them hungrily as my tongue explored her.
Jo fucked me with long, hard strokes. What she got out of it, I didn't know, but she was driving me to heaven. I could feel my climax approaching. "I'm coming," I said. "I'm coming."
Jo spanked me hard. "Don't you dare."
I whined with frustration and tried to control it. Erika grabbed my head and held it to her fiercely. "Make me come, bitch!" she hissed, and I doubled my efforts, concentrating now on her clit.
But I couldn't control my orgasm. It kept on building, and building, until I could hold in no more, and then I was lost to it, moaning against Erika's pussy as my vagina contracted about Jo's dildo, and Tam's tugging on my nipples was pure torture that only made my orgasm more intense.
Through it all, I continued as best I could, trying to make Erika come, sweeping my tongue around and across her clit. I wondered if I would enjoy it more now myself. Oral sex had never done anything for me, but surely the ring through my clit would change that?
"Mmm, yes," Erika said, her fingernails digging into my scalp. "Like that. Mmm."
Someone, Tam probably, was working saliva into my ass with her finger. Instinctively I writhed away from the contact, but all I gained by that was a hard spank, and then the finger was back with more saliva.
For all that I'd written about anal sex, I'd never done it for real. Officer Grant had fingered my ass, and now Tam was doing it too. I knew it wouldn't be long before her pink dildo followed. But it felt so unnatural to me.
Erika was coming. I could tell by her breathing and by the tension in her thighs. I continued my attention to her clit throughout, until she pushed me away, and Jo guided my mouth back to the black strap-on cock she had fucked me with.
Tam had two fingers in my ass now and was fucking me gently with them. Uncomfortable though this was, it was my knees that were really hurting from the cold, hard floor. "Put her on the bed," Erika suggested.
"Works for me," Tam said.
Jo grunted assent, and pulled the dildo from my mouth. "On your knees on the bed, slut," she growled.
I obeyed happily. If I was going to get my anal cherry popped, so to speak, at least I could do it without my knees killing me. And anyway, I was starting to enjoy those fingers. All my heroines loved anal sex, so it was only right that I should experience it for myself.
I knelt at the edge of the bed, leaning forward for balance as I waited for Tam's fingers to penetrate me again, but I was surprised to feel soft lips caressing my pussy, a tongue twirling about my clit. Erika's tongue. The question I had asked myself earlier was answered. Oral sex... could be fantastic.
Tam spat more saliva onto my ass, and then something thicker than a finger was pushing into me. Too thick. It wouldn't go in. But Tam was determined, and she thrust it deeper, forcing a cry from my lips. This... This was what it was like to have your ass stretched.
It's really difficult trying to concentrate on two new experiences at once. I wanted to lose myself in the bliss of Erika's tongue teasing my pierced clit while she fucked me with her fingers, but it's impossible to ignore a dildo thrusting steadily deeper into your ass. The wonderful sensation of being stretched, and filled, and the friction making your nerves resonate with pain and pleasure.
Tam's thrusts grew steadily longer as she penetrated deeper. The initial pain soon gave way to an intensity that transcended pain and pleasure. I no longer cared about natural or unnatural. I cared only that my ass was being most wonderfully fucked. No doubt it would be hurting for days, but right then it didn't matter.
How long it continued, I didn't know and didn't care. Tam pulled out of me eventually, and Jo took over, dribbling fresh spit onto her silicone cock before thrusting into me. It was a lot thicker than Tam's, but my ass adjusted quickly to the additional girth.
The divine combination of Erika's tongue on my clit and Jo's thick strap-on cock in my ass brought me swiftly to another climax. "I'm coming," I cried. "I'm coming." And then I was, my body convulsing in ecstasy as Jo continued to fuck me and Erika drank the juices that gushed forth.
They allowed me to roll onto my back, and I lay there catching my breath. "You really are a delightful little slut," Jo said. "I think we'll keep you."
"Yes, please," I whispered dreamily.
*
In the morning, still naked and still handcuffed, I was hauled into the Court to stand before the judge and the assembled media. "You stand accused of being out after curfew," he intoned, "and of being wantonly naked in the park in full view of the Public."
"I was abducted," I explained as patiently as I could, "fully clothed, from a taxi, before curfew. By aliens."
"Hmm. I can see that. I'll take it into account during sentencing. There is a further charge of gross public indecency that has been brought against you."
He pressed a button on a remote control, and the television screens mounted about the courtroom flickered to life. I was treated once again to the sight of myself being cut in half and fucked. It seemed so long ago now, back when things still almost made sense.
"Despicable," the judge said, shaking his head sadly. "To engage in theatrical sex without a license is quite unforgivable. I'm willing to be lenient with the other offences, but with this..."
He sighed heavily. "My hands are tied." The irony of this statement was clearly lost on him. "So be it. Twenty-four hours in the pillory, and thence to the Queen."
I felt my blood run cold. A whole day in the pillory? Had I really written that as a fantasy? And which Queen? There were dozens of queens in the journal, and I wasn't sure I'd like to meet any of them.
The pillory was on a raised platform in the public square in front of the Courts building. I was marched there through a crowd of curious spectators, many of whom grabbed at my breasts and pussy as if I had lost all right to human dignity. My wrists were released from the handcuffs, but only so they could be locked into position either side of my head in the pillory.
It forced me into an awkward position, slightly bent over and fully exposed. My pussy was visible to all. My breasts and my ass too. Visible to all except me, that is. I could only see forwards. Out over a sea of faces who seemed to delight in my misery.
There weren't any children amidst the crowd. In fact, I couldn't remember seeing any children at all since the morning I met Danny. Perhaps because there were no children in my erotic journal. But had they just vanished into thin air?
The first twelve hours were the worst - mostly because I was dying of boredom. Even the few rotten tomatoes thrown at me were preferable to the long hours where nothing at all happened. One or other of the Court officers came out from time to time with a bottle of water and a straw. It kept me hydrated, which was good.
No one, however, was inclined to help me pee. When the need to do so grew urgent, I waited until no one was watching me - at least no one that I could see - and let it flow. I couldn't see it myself, but I felt it splashing against my legs. There are few things in life as humiliating as being forced to pee like an animal, and then forced to stay in the midst of the evidence.
Nothing about it was fun. Erotic fantasy or not, I was on the edge of tears almost the whole day.
But then night fell, and the predators came out.
*
They approached from behind, naturally. I never saw them. I only heard them and felt them. Three to begin with. It was such a relief from the tedium that I was glad they were there.
"Do you think she knows she glowing blue," said one.
"Course she does. It's just jewellery." A rough hand mauled my left breast. "Nice tits on her. Check her pussy."
Fingers thrust between my legs and pressed up. "Dry." A third voice, deeper than the others. Dry, perhaps, but not for long, not with them touching my rings the way they were. It wasn't long before a cock replaced the fingers and demanded entry. "Aye," the deep voice said. "She's loosening up a bit."
It took him a minute to work his way in fully, but he was soon hammering away at me with enthusiasm. It wasn't a big cock. It would never have done anything for me before, but my new, hypersensitive clit was certainly excited. I'd gotten more pleasure from the dildos the night before, but there's definitely something about being fucked by an anonymous cock. And such a dirty thrill in feeling it come inside you.
"I'm done," he said, pulling out.
I didn't have to wait long for the next one. "What a sweet pussy," he said, thrusting in easily. "She's wet all right." This was a longer cock, and thicker too. He pounded into me with a steady rhythm, and with such strength that it hurt my shoulders as I was forced against the pillory. If only he'd lasted longer, I might have achieved orgasm myself.
He withdrew after depositing a second load of cum in me, and I sighed with disappointment. A third cock thrust in and used me for a while. "Her cunt's too wet," he said. Lining up for my ass instead, he thrust in without any gentleness. "Nice and tight here, though."
As before, the pain faded into a blissful intensity. Maybe Jo had been right to call me a slut. I was being fucked by complete strangers and loving every minute of it. It wasn't long before I had cum in my ass too, and for a while after they left, I could feel the cum leaking from my ass and pussy.
It was dirty. It was fantastic. I wanted more.
I got more. Sometimes it was one man alone. Sometimes they came in groups. They played with my breasts and called me a slut and a whore, and they fucked my pussy and my ass. Sometimes they came inside me. Sometimes they spurted their cum over my back and legs.
I didn't climax once, although I was close a few times, but I endured it happily. When the sun rose at last, and the city woke around me, I could hear passers-by laughing at the cum-stained mess on my legs, and I could still feel the cum dripping.
I was both proud and embarrassed. Proud because this was my fantasy playing out for real. Embarrassed because... being a slut was wrong - wasn't it? In the space of two days I had gone from a shy almost-virgin to a well fucked almost-nympho. Pregnant too.
All because I had stupidly written down my fantasies in a magical book, the whole planet - as far as I knew - was getting seriously weird.
Another two hours passed uneventfully, but then I was released and escorted, my back killing me, through a crowd of jeering spectators and into the Courts building again, where I was permitted to take a shower. Afterwards, they gave me a short dress to wear, and a hearty breakfast to eat. Feeling almost normal, I curled up in a comfy chair, and slept through the rest of the day.
I wasn't free though. I had an appointment with the Queen, and it was one I wouldn't be allowed to miss.
*
Where once had stood might skyscrapers, home to powerful global corporations and investment bankers, there was now a grand palace amidst extensive gardens threaded with illuminated walkways. Black-uniformed guards, all of them women, watched the city from the high wall surrounding the estate, interrogated all who passed through the gates, and patrolled the corridors of the palace itself.
This was no fairytale palace or tourist spot. This was the residence of a powerful and wealthy queen. Other wealthy women lived here also, it seemed. They were brightly dressed creatures, looking more like courtesans than nobility, with their tight corsets, short skirts and high-heeled boots.
The servants, in contrast, wore dull grey uniforms, and the slaves wore black, if anything. The slaves were marked in other ways too. All wore at least a black leather collar with steel rings embedded, and all were branded with the crest of their owner.
This was the devastating effect of my fantasies. A democratic civilisation transformed overnight into a tyranny of sexual slavery. A matriarchy without children. Monsters preying on the innocent.
In a deep pit in front of the throne, a minotaur paced restlessly. The bull-headed man was powerfully muscled, enough so to put any human weight-lifter to shame, and his cock, even semi-erect, exceeded Diane's futa-cock in length and girth. I stayed well away from the edge of the pit. That was one fantasy that wouldn't have a happy ending.
The Queen exuded power and ruthless intelligence, as well as a severe beauty. On the table beside her, beneath her sharp, steel fingernails, rested my journal. I dropped to my knees as I was brought before her, and I bowed my head subserviently. I recognised her now, not as one of my queens, but as all of them.
"Forgive me, Majesty," I said. "I beg you."
I waited patiently for her to speak. "So," she said eventually, "you're the girl who started this."
"Yes, Majesty."
"I've been reading your journal with interest. That's quite an imagination you have. You have unleashed a plague of misfortunes on this world. Sex-mad zombies. Cum-drinking vampires. Viruses that turn men into women, and women into sexbots. The jungles are home to vines that ravish all who venture in, and werewolves prowl the forests in search of mates. And you have created me! What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Forgive me, Majesty," I repeated. "I knew not what I did."
"Because I am grateful for my own existence, I will give you a choice of punishments. Your choice is between me, and the minotaur."
I understood. I could have a short life of brutal pleasure as the minotaur's fuck-toy, or surrender myself entirely to the Queen's command, branded as her slave for the rest of my life. To be honest, the minotaur was the more attractive option.
But there was another factor in my choice. The life within me. Who knew if I would ever give birth, but so long as I was pregnant, I couldn't just throw my life away.
"I choose you, Majesty," I said quietly.
*
I was given clothes to wear. The material was soft and warm where it needed to be, and firm and tight where it needed to be. It fit snugly and protectively about my swollen belly, and it supported and lifted my breasts while leaving my nipples and their rings exposed. My short skirt bounced airily about my thighs, making access to my pussy and ass easy to anyone who had the Queen's permission to use me, and my knee-high boots had platforms and high, sharp heels that took some getting used to.
And all of it was quite invisible. Sometimes it reflected the light like glass, or water perhaps, so that rays of sunlight shattered into rainbows around me, but most of the time, if you saw me, you would think me quite naked and floating about on tiptoes. I rather liked it.
Only the steel-ringed leather collar about my neck was visible. That, and the green-gold dragon inked into my chest, marked me as the Queen's property. Others suffered far worse fates, and all because I had written it.
The world was born of my imagination, and I, its main character, was never the Queen and always the slave. Now that I had what I had always secretly wanted, I had no right to complain.
Reality continued to shift over the following days, but the pattern had been set. The palace and the city transformed into a mighty citadel, ringed with high, protective walls. Centuries of technological development were undone almost overnight. Gone were smartphones and electrical conduits and gas pipelines, and in their place were books and candles and logs cut from the forest.
The citizens adjusted effortlessly to their new existence, their old lives nothing but a dream. Even the children returned - or some, at least - their laughter echoing through the streets of the outer citadel. "Where are the rest?" I asked the Queen.
"Where would you imagine them? I didn't read any tales of trolls devouring children in your journal."
"I would wish them to be safe," I said. "Protected from the monsters and the aliens."
"Then they are safe. In another world, perhaps, but they are safe."
Apart from the Queen, and me, I knew of only one other who remembered the old world. The Queen's new Captain of the Guard was a sensual beauty with navy blue skin. "Clara!" she said, catching me in an embrace when all I wanted to do was flee for my life. "What a wonderful world you've created - and what a wonderful gift you gave me in Diane. No one has ever been able to satisfy me the way she does. I am now doubly grateful to you."
"You're welcome," I said, praying that that was the end of it.
"Indeed, it seems only fair that you should share in the pleasure she gives me."
"That's really not necessary. I don't want to intrude on your privacy."
She laughed. "It is, and I insist."
And thus I was doomed to experience, twice a day at least, the passion of a futa for her succubus lover. No matter where I was, or what I was doing, and very often I was trying to sit quiet and still in the presence of the Queen, I had to endure a seemingly endless and utterly fantastic fucking.
As for Diane, she remained the closest of friends, but her memory of once being a human woman was entirely gone.
I was delighted also to discover three familiar faces amidst the guards. Jo, Erika and Tam cornered me one day. "You were supposed to be ours," Jo said accusingly.
"I'm sorry," I said sincerely.
"It's okay," Erika said, catching me for a kiss. "The Queen has given us permission to use you any way we like."
Tam laughed as she lifted my invisible skirt. "And as often as we like," she whispered in my ear.
"Well, thank the goddess for that," I said. "I'm desperate for a good fuck."
"You little slut," Jo growled. "You need to earn that fucking first. Get on your knees, bitch."
Trying to suppress a grin, I did as instructed. I was getting very good at obeying commands.
My billionaire boyfriend Danny suffered perhaps the strangest of all fates. I encountered him in the gardens one day, several months later, where he was, quite literally, fucking himself. The man who had once run a major global corporation had retired to an existence of walking about on all fours, quite naked, and munching grass and flowers.
His cock, that had been the first to give me an orgasm, and which therefore I would always remember fondly, was as thick as ever, but it had grown so in length that it resembled a python - and, indeed, it could coil about his torso with similar dexterity. So versatile was his cock, that he could with ease both suck himself off to a glorious climax, and savagely assault his own ass.
He claimed to have no control over his cock's whimsical desires, and was quick to warn any who came near of their danger. "But you should see," he added with a chuckle, "how far I can hurl my cum... No one is safe." As if to prove the point, his cock whipped from his ass and spat at me. Given that I'd been talking to him from about five metres away, it was truly impressive that his cum splashed across my face. I'd opened my mouth to scream, and ended up tasting him instead.
And now you know. I am the one who wrote this world and filled it with monsters. So heed me:
Beware the dragons in the snowy heights
and the orcs in the caverns deep
Tarry not by placid lakes
and go swift where the willows weep
I beg you all, my council keep -
for pleasure's price is far too steep...