Erotic Disclosure Chapter 8: My Demonic Lover

(story continues from Erotic Disclosure Chapter 7: My Inner Whore Discovered)

Chapter 8: My Demonic Lover

“What do you mean Paul?”  I asked, captivated by his statement. 

He continued to stare at me intently, carefully weighing up his response.  “I wanted to keep you on the side lines, keep you out of things – but Steve needed you so badly it just got more and more difficult.” 

“Sidelines of what, Paul – what are you talking about?”  My question had a slight edge, my curiosity sharp as a needle. 

“Steve runs a club, a club for men – but it’s different, very different.” Paul’s answer trailed off a little. 

I felt like poking him with a spiky stick.  I had to know what he was talking about.  “Different in what way?  What sort of club is it?”  The insistence in my question wasn’t lost on Paul. 

“OK, OK – I’ll tell you” he replied. There was a thread of anxiety in his voice.

“If a guy wants fast, casual sex, he can use a call girl, but these guys want more than that. They want something more intense, more satisfying.  They want a woman to be virtually begging for their cock.” 

I could feel my abdomen constrict at Paul’s words.  “Tell me more Paul – I want to know everything.” I looked at him fixedly, there was no way out. 

He continued, he had to,  “Steve works with their wives and girlfriends – training them, but it’s not a usual kind of training.  It’s kind of ritualistic. He operates by putting them in situations that turn them on, again and again.  It’s like introducing someone to an addictive drug.  In the end, some of the women feel deprived if they don’t have ten orgasms a day.  They’re horny most of the time.” 

I was fascinated.  I felt my breath coming a little faster.  I was impatient to know more. “Yes – and?” I probed.

Paul carried on, relaxing a little, “Most of the women shave their pubic area, or get it done for them – then it’s easy to see what’s going on.  Again, it’s kind of ritualistic.  Their outer lips seem to be very swollen most of the time – swollen and bright red – and the inner lips protrude out.   The clitoris always enlarges. Mostly you can see it bulging erect a centimetre or two, like a large, shiny cherry.  The women can come time after time, and still want more.” 

Involuntarily, my eyebrows arched, “So, you’ve obviously sampled the goods yourself Paul – tell me about it.” 

His face showed the briefest shadow of discomfort before he continued; “They gradually get introduced to the experience of having sex with more than one man, until they can’t do without it.  Then the men in the organization get to enjoy themselves with three, four or even five very willing ladies at one of Steve’s all day parties, or weekend retreats – and yeah, I’ve been to a few.”

I remembered my own responses.  Remembered how a floodgate at the base of my spine had been opened, releasing a pulsing sexual energy that before, I’d only glimpsed in brief, vivid moments. 

Paul’s voice continued, “Once they’re hooked in, it’s hard for the women to stop - but sometimes, it causes problems.” 

“What kind of problems Paul?”  I asked, intrigued. 

“Well, the men love fucking these horny, orgasmic women – but it’s not something that can be turned on or off like a light switch.  Once the genie is out of the lamp, some of the guys find they can’t control their partner any more.  Then it’s slap bang into problems.  They want their wives and girlfriends to act like prostitutes and then neatly put the whole experience away until it’s wanted again.  A lot of the guys are discovering it’s not possible.”

“Was that your problem with me Paul?  Was that why you kept me away from all this until just recently?” 

He nodded, affirmatively, in response. 

I smiled wryly at the dilemma of the modern male.  Seduced by the Whore of Babylon, yet wanting to possess the purity of the Madonna for themselves.  Like wanting to have your cake and eat it at the same time.  Poor babies – what a quandary.

I poured more coffee for both of us.  The kids were inside the house, still in their pyjamas and absorbedly playing their latest Nintendo game. I was glad they were amusing themselves for the moment. 

“Well, Kristin – now do you understand?  Where to from here?” 

Paul’s questions cut through my meandering thoughts.  “I don’t know Paul, I really don’t know,” I said the words contemplatively – sipping on that coffee as I did so. 

I noticed he was now sitting relaxed in his chair, legs spread apart.  The robe he was wearing had fallen open.  I could see all the way to the top of his powerful thighs - all the way to the point where his lazily resting balls nestled.  I pictured him fucking woman after woman at one of Steve’s all-day parties.  I pictured his face.  I pictured his desire.  I wanted to know more.  “What about you Paul?  What do you want to do?” 

He stared at me.  It seemed like he eyes had grown several shades darker, but they still shone.  He leaned forward a little.  “I can’t give it up Kristin, I can’t.” He emphasised the last “Can’t.” 

“OK,” I measuredly replied, “But what about me, where do I fit into this?” 

He continued looking at me, almost broodingly now, I thought. 

“Wherever you want to.  Come with me. Learn everything.” 

My belly shuddered and my nipples hardened at his words.  Just then, the kids came tumbling out from the house. 

“Mum! Mum!” They shouted, almost in unison – “The Nintendo’s broken!” 

“See your Dad,” I purred, looking pointedly at Paul, “He’ll fix it, he can fix anything.” The spell was broken. 

He gave me a lingering glance as Chloe led him by the hand in the direction of the now kaput toy.

My coffee finished, I wandered from the veranda to shower, to dress and slowly beautify myself – leaving Paul to deal with the children.  My hands wandered over my body as the water trickled off my curves.  I noticed my genitals were still aching and my clitoris was throbbing.  When I examined myself shortly after, in the full-length mirror hanging on our bedroom wall, I noticed my pulsing bud was very engorged.  It peeped lewdly and prominently from behind puffy folds of scarlet flesh. I saw my normal pinkness had been replaced by a glistening, vivid crimson gash.  I was also becoming aware of a tender heaviness in my lower body, at the very foundation of my backbone.  Fucking all those guys the day before - and Paul this morning - had obviously, I reflected, done something to my chemistry.

The morning had almost faded into lunchtime by the time I climbed into the family car, Paul driving, kids in the back.  We were going shopping, or rather, Paul and I were.  We normally dropped the children with Paul’s parents for a few hours on a Saturday. 

Paul was unusually quiet, but we had a good time at the mall. 

I wore my tight black jeans, a soft clingy top and strappy sandals that exposed my bright red manicured toenails.  I enjoyed the male glances that followed me.  I also discovered the heat between my thighs wouldn’t be ignored.  Relentlessly, it intruded into my thoughts. 

Paul and I were sitting in a coffee shop when I noticed a handsome, well-built guy eating his lunch at a table almost opposite our own.  In typical masculine fashion, his legs were splayed apart, tightening the cloth across his crotch.  My eyes rested on the outline of his manhood, drinking in the possibilities.  It was a while before I realised he was looking back at me with a grin on his face. 

He nonchalantly brushed the tight cloth with his hand and blew me a soft, surreptitious kiss. 

Blushing, I smiled back then swiftly averted my eyes. 

“Who’s that?” Said Paul, turning round in the direction of my gaze.  He noticed the guy.  “Bad girl,” he chided, moving my chin his way until he made eye contact.  “Perhaps you need to be punished,” he continued to tease. 

Returning his look, I ran my tongue around my lips and furtively trickled a finger along the length of his penis until I felt it respond. 

“Not now you horny bitch” he laughed – then looking at me more seriously, he continued, “There’s all the time in the world to watch while you get the arse fucked off you – all the time in the world to watch while you’re punished.”  The darkness had come back into his eyes.  I squirmed.

Shopping eventually complete, Paul and I picked the kids up from their Grandparent’s place.  By the time we got home, I was tired – very tired.  I left Paul in charge of the children while I collapsed into bed.  A deep, velvety black sleep quickly overcame me. 

Dreams came thick and fast.  I was in a large, echoing Gothic hall.  It felt real - very, very real.  Burning torches were fixed to the solid granite walls.  Shadows licked and danced.  The air was thick with a heady incense and the air buzzed with a soft, resonant chanting that tingled up and down my spine.  There were a lot of gently moving bodies around me, but I couldn’t make out their faces.  They were all wearing long grey robes with hoods that cast their features into gloom.  I didn’t feel frightened; rather, a throbbing expectancy pulsed in my throat.  I noticed there were two individuals next to me, one on each side.  Each had a tender - but firm - hold on a forearm.  I wasn’t struggling, but instinctively, I knew if I did, the soothing grip of my two captors would harden into steel. 

I was naked as they led me forward towards a massive, ornately carved altar.  I knelt down before it.  My pulsing expectancy became almost unbearable.  A creature appeared, like nothing I’d ever seen before.  It was half man, half beast.  The body and face were human, though it towered above me muscular and broad, taller than any human I’d ever known.  Its skin glowed with an eerie redness, not unlike the luminosity of hot coals.  This human/animal creature was totally devoid of hair.  On either side of its body, immense wings were fully stretched out.  They were as tall as the beast itself and bat-like in shape – though not in colour.  Like the rest of him, they shone with an uncanny crimson flush. 

I found myself gazing into a strikingly exquisite countenance.  I was being drawn, inexorably, into a much more intimate encounter.  The open, ravenous lust I found staring back at me completely melted the hidden crevice between my milky, quivering thighs. 

The next thing I was aware of, his nostrils flared wide and nightmarish flames danced in his eyes.  His huge penis sprung to life and stood massively erect in front of him.  I noticed oozing pearls of fluid were dribbling from its grotesquely bulbous, purple red tip.  No words were said, rather his thoughts, his demands, echoed through my head. 

“Drink me.” 

I couldn’t refuse. 

The chanting became more intense.  I pressed the bulging cock against my lips; it slid easily into my mouth.  I almost expected to be suffocated, but as soon as he was inside me, my whole body seemed to shudder with a dark, sensuous pleasure.  I began to suckle hard, an incommunicable delight coursing through me.  I wanted him so badly, wanted his juices so badly, I was consuming him with wanton greed.  A deep growl found its way up from the depths of his belly as my frenzy increased. 

“Suck me.  Drink me.  Feed from me.” More commands reverberated through my brain.

As ordered by the demonic creature, I found myself sucking and sucking, desperate to milk his sweet, creamy fluid – desperate to take it inside myself.  Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he started to spurt over and over again within my mouth.  Hungrily, I swallowed – then swallowed some more.  He just kept coming and coming in an endless orgasm – filling me up with his sticky ejaculate.  I wouldn’t let go, couldn’t let go.  I was, quite literally, nourishing myself with his semen. 

All the while, his roars resonated throughout the dark, gothic hall.

Then a strange thing happened – his cock turned into a searching python that pushed it’s way down my throat, but I wasn’t choking.  I was breathing through it, merging his inhuman energy with my own.  The thick snake slithered all the way down inside me, until - when it reached the base of my spine - I felt my genitals begin to throb with an indescribable heat.  At that moment, I heard an urgent whisper.

“She’s ready, she’s ready.” 

One by one, the shadowy men started to vigorously fucking me from behind, my mouth still filled to overflowing with the penis – or was it python - of the orgasming demon.  They were partaking in some sort of ancient ritual – consuming the life force of the creature as it pulsed through me. 

I experienced a frantic craving for every proffered sexual organ, pushing my buttocks lewdly against each new lover.  Mostly, they came quickly.  My vagina became a sticky, swollen, dribbling mess – but still deliciously enticing to the transfixed males and their searching erections. 

I didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to leave – but wrenchingly, the scene faded away as the black curtain of sleep gradually fell away. 

I opened my eyes slowly, vivid memories of the coarse orgy running through my mind.  I’d never had a dream like that before – never had one that seemed so real; never had one I’d remembered in such detail.  My hand crept down to my pussy, it was soaking wet and I noticed a damp patch on the sheet beneath me. 

I lay there for a while, contemplating the fantastic and arousing scenes – running them through my head repeatedly, like a film.  Then I looked at the clock – 8pm.  I’d slept for about two hours.

Unhurriedly, I pulled myself from the bed before splashing my face with tepid water and putting on my black satin housecoat.  I wandered out to our living room.  It was very quiet.  Obviously, Paul had fed the kids before packing them off to bed.  He was sitting on the sofa, glass of wine in hand, watching his favourite sci-fi series. 

After wetting my sleep-dehydrated mouth with a decanter full of icy orange juice, I poured myself some of the wine and joined him.  I sat at the other end of the couch, my feet gently resting in his crotch.  Distractedly, he massaged them.  It felt blissful.

When the TV programme finished, I started gently rubbing a foot along the length of Paul’s penis. 

He looked at me and grinned, then relaxed further into the cushions – his body inviting me to continue. 

I did and experienced some pleasure as I felt him harden.  The dramatic memories of my recent dream were still running through my head when I went down on him.  I sucked at his now swollen penis with a new passion - impatiently, shamelessly drinking him in.  It took him by surprise – a very gratifying surprise. 

He came quickly, in sharp, juddering spurts that filled my mouth. 

“Whoa babe!” He gasped breathlessly, “Where did you learn that?” 

Was it my imagination, or were those really flames that danced in my eyes when I caught my reflection in the mirror?  The thought quickly dissipated.  “I don’t know Paul,” I replied softly, “Perhaps you’re getting to be too much of a turn on for me.” 

He cupped my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze, “Yeah, pigs arse,” he replied, “You’re just turning into a horny little bitch!” 

“Any complaints?” I purred. 

“None at all,” he whispered, sighing in satisfaction.

Life went on as usual for a while.  Lynn had moved away, to the other side of the country, curtailing my experiment in erotic massage.  It wasn’t something I wanted to do on my own.  Domesticity crept back in, as it always does.  Housework, shopping, preparing meals – it’s all so circular.  You do it once and it still needs to be done again.  Women’s work, a bit like sex, I mused.  To day was Friday, the end of a tedious week.  I picked the kids up from child-care, they bubbled with energy and affection as I strapped them into the back of the car. 

I noticed Paul sitting quietly in his favourite chair as all three of us tumbled through the front door.  He had a drink in his hand; it looked like a whisky and soda.  Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” was playing softly in the background. 

He looked up, “Hi” he said, pensively and slowly. 

I thought his mood was a bit strange, but the kids cut any further questions short. 

“Dad!” They screamed in delight, launching themselves into his lap. 

They must have interrupted his reverie with a jolt. 

I switched on the light.  Evening gloom was beginning to cast everything into shadow.  It was peaceful for Paul, but not good for lively children.  My mind was caught up with getting a meal ready. I didn’t have time for further consideration.  I heard him playing with the kids as I cooked – or rather, opened the frozen food packets.

By 8pm, both our little darlings were tucked up in bed, fed, clean and exhausted.  I stripped off my working clothes and was stepping into something more comfortable, when Paul entered the bedroom. 

“Get ready Kristin,” he said, “We’re going out.”

I started in surprise at the firmness in his voice.  “What about the kids?” I protested. 

“I’ve arranged a babysitter, she’ll be here in an hour” he informed me in a businesslike manner, “Now get ready!”  He snapped the words - his voice beginning to crackle in impatience. 

“Fuck you!” I snapped back, meeting his gaze. 

He softened, “Please Kristin, get ready,” he murmured hoarsely. 

“Where are we going?” I asked, more gently. 

“To Steve’s place.” The reply dripped quietly from his lips in a prolonged whisper, as he ran his hands over my naked body.

I knew I shouldn’t go, but the mention of his friend sent heat coursing through my genitals.  It was like my body was responding to a kind of carnal conditioning.  My rational brain played no part in it.  “OK”, I said, stepping into dangerous territory.

Steve was pleased to see us.  “Hi mate,” he smiled briefly in Paul’s direction.  He reserved a longer, more searching look for me. 

Defiantly, I returned his stare – though inwardly I felt like jelly. 

The place was crowded with men. I could feel their eyes stripping me.  There were no other women there, at least, none that I could see.  I was wearing my black, fitted pencil skirt; black seamed stockings, heels and a deep burgundy low-cut clingy top.  My long, shiny red hair tumbled over my shoulders. 

Steve returned his attention to Paul.  His manner was dark and serious.  “Take her to one of the rooms Paul, you know which one.” 

Obviously, this masculine throng were itching for action. 

Fear shot strong surges of adrenaline through me.  It’s a powerful drug – repelling and attracting all in the same moment. 

Paul did as he was ordered, I wouldn’t have been able to escape from the grip he had on my wrist even if I’d wanted to. 

“Am I the only woman here?” I asked, my voice quivering with anxiety. 

“No, you’re not,” was his clipped response. 

I’d not been expecting this.  I’d not been expecting such open, crude need – not been expecting such a lack of social graces.

Paul took me to a small, dark room – it was like a miniature version of Steve’s main “Playroom”.  Walls, ceiling and carpet – everything was black.  There weren’t any curtains, I noticed, because there weren’t any windows.  It was lit by a single red wall-light that glowed softly in the corner.  All the accoutrements of sex were in evidence – ropes, a sling, a large armchair and a mattress.  Various lubricants and oils were neatly arranged on a small table that was draped with a black, lacy cloth. 

I was breathing rapidly and my palms were clammy, as Paul pushed me inside the room.

“Get undressed,” he ordered. 

Suddenly, I noticed the outline of two tall male figures behind him, standing in the now murky doorway. 

“No!” I shouted, apprehension overtaking me. 

That was their cue.  Paul slipped away – the two unknown men took over.  The door snapped shut.

Both strangers were powerfully built. 

I put up a futile struggle - it was useless.  Their arousal was blatant.  I was forced down on to my back.  One guy held me tightly by the wrists - while the other took great delight in removing every shred of my clothing.  As he did so, he took time to suckle on each of my erect nipples, drawing each crimson point deeply into his mouth.  He played his tongue teasingly around their hardness. 

Bolts of heat shot through my pussy as, almost involuntarily, I felt myself writhe.

“We’ve got something special planned for you,” the man who was holding my wrists gloated. 

In a swift, practised movement, my hands and forearms were bound very tightly above my head.  Next, I felt the two men lift up my now naked form until I was standing.  When my bound hands were joined by a length of rope to a pulley hanging from the ceiling, I was stretched until I was almost on tiptoe.  It sent sharp sparks of tension zipping through my body. 

Quickly, both men undressed. 

Soon, there was one insistent stud in front of me, one behind.  Both of them started rubbing up against me, each groaning in lewd enjoyment as they did so. 

I was sandwiched, hard, between them.  A slippery film of sweat began to grow.  I could smell their musk.  I was enveloped in their heat.  I quickly discovered my loins were responding with a satanic passion that blissfully soared past my habitual boundaries of rationality. 

Both male bodies were developing a rhythmic movement, which – animal like - I was emulating. 

Both penises were rock hard as they pressed into my flesh; they slid easily against my sweat soaked skin. 

“You like this bitch, don’t you?” One of them said. 

I didn’t reply. 

He became more insistent, “Say you like it bitch!”  He was holding on tightly to a handful of my hair. 

“I like it!”  The words stumbled out of me. 

“That’s better,” he hissed, “Now beg for my cock!”  He yanked even harder at the handful of hair he was still holding and bit savagely into my neck. 

“Please, please – give me your cock,” I stuttered. 

“Anything to please a lady,” he purred in response, “But first, I want you to beg me some more, tell me how much you really want me inside you.”  

By now, it felt as if he was drawing blood from my neck.  Defeated, I begged him with believable fervour, “Please, please, please – let me have your cock.  Please, I want you inside me so badly!” 

He groaned in delight at my pleading and I heard his soft, breathy words, “Well, my little whore – you’re going to get your wish.” 

At that moment, I felt the tension in my body relax a little. The rope, attaching my hands to the pulley above, was being lowered. 

The guy in front of me moved away a foot or so. 

I wondered what was happening.  I didn’t have to wait long. 

The guy behind me had obviously pulled up a chair.  He commanded me to sit on his lap - but first, I felt him roughly rubbing some oily lubricant into my asshole.  I started in surprise; he was ignoring my pussy. 

At first, the pain was intense as he pushed the whole length of his very large cock inside my anus.  I would have let out a cry of agony, had his hand not been firmly clamped across my mouth – but soon, the acute twinges faded, giving way to a deep, throbbing pleasure that radiated throughout my belly. 

“Good girl, good girl,” he whispered huskily. His hands were now clamped into the soft flesh of my hips as he rocked me backwards and forwards.

The guy in front was staring intently at the two of us, then - without a word – he knelt down and pushed my thighs apart slightly.  His lips began to work on my protruding clitoris.  He was actually sucking on it, drawing it into his mouth then rhythmically working on the tip with his hot, sticky tongue. 

Wave upon wave of a dark, intense pleasure washed over me.  I tried to squirm, but it wasn’t easy – both men gripped me relentlessly. 

Then the guy with his cock firmly embedded in my ass spoke again, “He’s going to make you come with me inside you.  I like that – I like my ladies to come when I’m fucking them.”  His voice was almost choked with lust.

The man in front kept up a steady tempo, sucking and licking on my engorged genitals.

The guy that was fucking me dug his finger deeper into my supple curves, as his excitement increased. 

Pain and pleasure mingled.  Later, I discovered deep purple bruises on my hips. 

I was building and building.  When my orgasm unstoppably crashed down, I found myself pushing and contracting my muscles in wave after delicious wave.  I ground my bottom violently into the man behind me. 

He loved it; he consumed each pulse in total ecstasy.  It was vulgar and obvious - he grunted loudly in animal-like appreciation each time I thrust against him.  Suddenly, he stood up – his cock still firmly inside me. 

I felt my hands being hoisted towards the ceiling again. My feet were lifted a foot or so from the floor.  I was dangling. 

The guy behind me now clasped his hands across my belly, still pinning me to his groin. 

The man in front started to kiss me, forcing his tongue into my mouth.  One of his hands was around the back of my head, making me return his passion – while the other was furtively pushing his eager erection inside my vagina.  He let out a sigh of profound satisfaction when eventually, the whole length slid inside me.

Both men were going crazy now. 

I had two throbbing, searching penises inside me at the same time.  I was squashed helplessly in between them, soaking in sweat. 

It was a huge turn-on for them. While they were fucking me, each luxuriated in the vibrations caused by the other. 

Suddenly, I felt the muscles of the man behind me start to contract violently.  He let out a huge, loud roar as he shot his load.  He was pushing and pushing, desperate to get inside me as deeply as he could. 

Needless to say, the guy in front spent himself shortly after – his ass jerking rhythmically as he pulsed out his seed. 

Now, I was trapped – quite still – between the two men.  Both cocks were still firmly inside me, half erect. 

Warm, sticky streams of fluid ran down the inside of my thighs when they eventually pulled out.

As soon as they were both finished, I was lowered from the rope pulley and my bindings were untied. 

I slowly rubbed my stinging wrists. 

Without another word, the men grabbed towelling robes from a small cupboard, thoughtfully throwing one in my direction. 

I put it on. 

The two strangers exited. The door clicked shut. 

I tried the handle.  It was locked.  I curled in the large armchair, nursing my swollen pussy and wondered what the rest of the night would bring.

 

 

08.11.06