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storm of desire
This is an adult story, including sexual
situations among women. If such things offend you, please
read no further. Reading is a voluntary act. Parents, take
responsibility for your children.
(c)2001 Sara H
This is posted by kind permission of Sara H. Do not
post elsewhere, in part or in whole, without the express
permission of the author.
Although this is just a short, light fantasy, I wish to
thank Tabico and trilby else for their inspiration. Also, a
nod to Cait, whose "Goo" peripherally affected this
in mid-process, and William Lee, who always makes it "nice
and tasty." And to you, if you've decided you're not
offended, thanks for reading.
- Sara
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Storm of Desire
by Sara H
Categories: (FF, MC, F-Dom, Horror)
--------------------------------------
Sharon looked out at the western sky and squinted. It was
going to be one hell of a storm, from the look of the
clouds gathered on the horizon. She didn't need the
weatherman to tell her to move indoors. Although she
figured she had at least an hour before the beast was here,
she began to prepare the storm cellar.
She got eight gallons of water, flashlights, candles,
food, and several changes of clothes just in case. She'd
never been stuck down there, but she knew people who had.
She didn't want to go where they'd been, wondering if
they'd survive long enough to be rescued.
She walked out to the back porch and felt her long,
scarlet hair whip and begin to tangle. The wind was already
making waves in the tall grass. She looked again at the
sky, and at her watch. This was a fast one.
More urgent now, she grabbed the few valuables she had
and, giggling at herself, grabbed her vibrator from the
drawer in the bedside table. Along with a radio, several
packs of fresh batteries and the first book she found, she
made her way to the cellar, coming back only to latch and
bolt the steel plate door.
She sent up a short, grateful prayer to her late husband
for his foresight and craftsmanship - and felt just a
twinge of the sadness that had plagued her for nearly three
years after his death. Now, after four more, she rarely
thought of him, except in times like these.
She lit the lantern that was always waiting in the small
hole in the ground -- waiting for times like these. She
opened the book and began to read. Soon, her eyes were
fighting her, and her head was drooping forward. And just
like everyone who finds themselves touched by the mystical
breath of fatigue, she didn't notice in the slightest when
her eyes closed and carried her off to sleep.
--------------------------------------
She woke up to the sound of hell. Even from her safe
haven, she could here the wood moan and stretch, shaking
the earth around her. Dust crumbled off the walls and fell
to the ground. The sound was deafening, and Sharon began to
feel panic nipping at the edges of her thoughts. It was
getting louder and louder, and going on and on ...
Sharon screamed and realized she couldn't hear herself at
all. She could only feel air moving through her throat as
the storm, so much bigger and stronger, screamed back at
her. She threw her arms around herself and curled up,
rocking herself in a vain attempt at comfort as the
maddening wind howled more deeply, as if angry it could not
take her.
Then, it was gone. Or almost gone. The sound nearly died
away, and the last whips of wind blew mocking laughter as
it faded altogether, off to torture some other woman, some
other house.
Silence, eerie and alien, fell like a heavy curtain, while
her ears rang for a long moment.
She unwrapped herself slowly and breathed deeply. The
lantern was lit, she was in one piece, and she was unhurt.
She went up to check the cellar door, but it wouldn't budge.
Even though she'd been afraid, she now felt resolved, and
even satisfied, in a way. This was why she'd prepared.
She'd won. She would deal with the house and whatever
damage had occurred later. For now, she had a book, water,
food, and a vibrator. Her own little paradise.
She stood up and took the lantern down, casting its light
around the small earthen room she'd be calling home. "Some
curtains and a throw rug would complete the ensemble,
setting off the room with understated elegance," she
thought, whispering and giggling out loud.
The sound of her voice reminded her, for a brief moment,
of how alone she was.
The radio was dead. Even with fresh batteries, it was
completely lifeless. Sharon still had water, food, and
several kinds of entertainment. A book and a vibrator --
perhaps she would diddle herself for a few days. The
thought brought another giggle, and the barest twinge of
arousal. There was something delicious and dirty about the
thought of masturbating herself senseless while rescuers
worked to find her.
She looked down at her bare feet, and noticed they were
covered by shadows. She moved her feet, and the shadows
moved with them. Taking a second look, she saw that it was
some kind of black, oily gook. Her immediate thought was
that it had come from a leaky can of something that her
husband had left down there years before.
All she needed was to be overcome with fumes. She took the
lantern, looking around, but there was nothing out of the
ordinary at all stored on the shelves, no other evidence of
the messy stuff.
Well, not so messy. It wasn't coming off, whatever it was.
She reached down and wiped some onto her finger. Odd. It
did wipe off. She waved it under her nose and a wave of
euphoric dizziness washed through her. It had a faint
chemical or medicine odor which was actually rather
pleasant, but the effect was certainly strong enough that
it didn't matter. It left her in a sort of daze for a
moment, except everything seemed more clear at the same
time.
She wiped it off on her shorts and swore. It wasn't coming
off again. "*Definitely strange stuff,*" she thought,
bewildered and a little peeved.
She looked back down at her feet. She could almost swear
there was more of the black gunk than only a few moments
before. It looked almost like she was wearing skin-tight
booties that even formed around her toes. She couldn't tell
if it was imagination or real, but her feet were feeling
warmer, too. Almost like the feeling when a limb goes numb -
- a kind of non-heat that was a little alarming.
There was nothing to be done, at least until she got out
of here. She picked up her book and began to read again. On
the third page, her mind wandered off as she wondered who
else had been trapped. Maybe Karen Jeffries, her friend
from the neighboring farm. She laughed as she thought of
both of them using their vibrators, cumming like crazy, and
never admitting it to each other, but always wondering if
they had acted alone.
"*You should never be alone.*"
Her mind went to her kitchen, and shameful admissions
between the two of them, and the half-embarrassed offer to
show each other what they had done. She could feel the heat
building as she unconsciously sniffed her finger again.
Yes, and if Karen wouldn't admit to it, she'd show her
anyway, and make her do it so she would understand how good
it was. How *fucking* good. And how much better when Sharon
did it to her with her tongue.
The new and shocking thought startled her back to her
senses, and she clasped her hands together, an embarrassed
laugh coming from her lips. She looked down, and froze. Her
entire right hand was shiny and black, and the stuff now
covered the palm and undersides of the fingers of her other
hand. She tried to wipe any of it off, but it still
wouldn't even smear. Her right palm was feeling hot now,
too. Her feet were nearly devoid of sensation.
For some reason, she brought her hands to her nose and
inhaled deeply. Her head swam in a pool of lust-ridden
desire. It was so easy. So good. So nice. She dropped her
hand, and with the desperation of a drug addict, pulled off
her pants and began to rub her swollen, wet clit.
She felt the heat and knew. Her clit was black now. She
didn't care. Her whole fucking would be black soon,
and that was how it *should* be. She inhaled the scent
again. Yes. She would fuck herself for Karen. For the
blackness.
She turned on the vibrator and rubbed it in circles over
her hot, steaming clit. She plunged her fingers deep
inside, copulating as she fell onto the floor, writhing
with need. The oily blackness let her finger slip easily
into her asshole, making it tingle and clench.
She could feel it pressing up into her. The black
goodness. She caught a glimpse of herself in the chrome
casing of the lantern, distorted and sexy, dirty and slutty.
It sent her over the top, her body thrashing in the dirt,
hands clawing at her crotch, toes curling crazily as the
pleasure ripped through her like a scythe, cutting away any
resistance, making her want it more, accept more, *obey*
more, feel more, more... and then do it again... more
entranced by the black oil, which was more pleasure which
was more obedience... burning itself into her mind, and
burning away the past...
Her thoughts were disjointed. As she swept upward to
another climax she tried to think of her husband, but she
couldn't him. She couldn't even remember his name.
Soon, she knew, she would not remember him at all. And then
she was smelling heaven again, and cumming and screaming
and cumming and screaming and cumming and...
--------------------------------------
She felt rather than saw the light shine in from the
cellar door. "Sharon?"
She waited silently and did not answer. A part of her
still wanted to, but her task was before her now.
"It's Karen. Are you down there?"
"Yes," She answered. "I'm here."
Karen stepped down into the darkness, but didn't see
anyone. "Where are you?"
She jumped as a rubbery hand covered her mouth and the
Woman who had been Sharon whispered in her ear. "I'm right
here, pet."
Karen took a sharp intake of breath as surprise and fear
hit her full force. What was Sharon doing? And what was...
that smell... that... nice... aroma...
--------------------------------------
Officer Suzanne Withers knocked on the door of the
Jeffries house. There wasn't any answer. Karen hadn't been
to church this morning, and she hadn't missed church since
she was a child. The last thing anyone knew was that she
was going to check on Sharon Osborne, her next door
neighbor, who had been missing in the two days since the
tornado.
Suzanne had already been to the Osborne place, and there
was no sign of life anywhere. It looked like Sharon had
made it to the storm cellar, but whether she had actually
been there or just prepared it was anyone's guess. She'd
been a loner anyway -- it was possible she'd gone away to
live with for awhile. There was certainly no sign of
foul play or damage to the cellar itself. There was nowhere
else to go but to Karen and Will Jeffries' place.
"Karen?" called the deputy, standing outside the Jeffries'
broken screen door. "You here? Will?"
She walked inside and took a cursory look around. Nothing
seemed out of place. Apparently it was simply a case of
Karen losing her religion. "*Not hard to do if you think
about being to Will Jeffries,*" thought Suzanne.
She walked out the back door and around the house to her
patrol car. As she pulled on the latch, she noticed that
she'd gotten her hand dirty somewhere in the house. She
reached in the car for a wet-nap, and tried to wipe it off.
"*Damned stubborn,*" she thought, "*and blacker than
sin...*"
She was still trying to wipe it off as she drove away.
Inside the house, a door cracked open upstairs.
A vision in black appeared in the doorway. "The officer is
gone, pet. I know you wanted to call her. You see how you
already obey? And I can feel your thoughts now. You think
she will report this, and perhaps return. She will, but
it's no matter. She has been Touched. She will be one with
the Essence, just as you will, and become Mine. The Essence
is as relentless as it is invincible. Breathe in the Scent
of Pleasure and feel how true it is."
Karen tried to fight the commandment, but it was so damned
hard not to give in to the voice ringing in her head,
making her body... *do* things. She was already finding it
hard not to think "Queen" instead of "Sharon". She looked
at her Torturer and Temptress,completely black except for
the inside of Her mouth and her eyes -- even her hair, the
envy of half the women in the county, had fallen out. The
horror of seeing Her like this made everything surreal, and
she could no longer tell if this was reality or delirium.
"Sh-Sharon. Why are you... doing this to... me?" Her hand
slid across the bed, pressed down tightly as if moving
under incredible weight. It slid up and over her to
a place beneath her flaring noes, and waited.
It was completely black -- almost like night, except for
its gleaming skin. Karen, unable to resist the addictive
euphoria, breathed deeply. Her eyes rolled back in her head
as a little more of her brain was captured and corrupted.
She could feel it happening, perhaps ten-thousand cells at
a time. Opposing thoughts were fighting for control, each
convolution a bitter battle of wills.
Karen was losing each fight, becoming more and more unable
to muster up resistance with each assault.
The Woman who had been Sharon turned to look at Her first
lesser one, who still managed to think of herself as Karen.
Her body was stretched across the bed, arms and legs held
tightly -- not by ropes or chains, but by the Word of the
Queen. The physical container of the lesser one already
obeyed Her.
"You might as well ask a bird flying by. I am your Queen.
The Sharon you remember is no more. Soon you will join with
the Mind of Essence. It is as pleasurable as it is
inevitable."
Karen tried to respond, to come up with some cursing
resistance, but all she could do was moan as waves of
obedience pounded her psyche into submission.
Sharon stepped over to the side of the bed where Karen lay
wrestling against her invisible bonds. She placed an ebony
hand, smooth as silk, against Her own navel. She pulled
outward slowly, creating a long, sinewy strand of viscous
jet-black. She pressed it into the navel of the struggling
woman and held it for a moment before letting go.
The strand began to thicken and pulse.
Waves moved down it's length and into the captive female
flesh of Karen Jeffries.
Her body began to undulate in time with the pulses.
Sharon closed Her eyes slowly, basking in the euphoria of
the unholy union. Her hips swirled to unseen fingers
playing at Her clit, while Her nipples lengthened and
distended. Karen's body began to move in concert. It was
subtle at first; a twitch here and there, like a subdued
version of the gyrations her friend -- her Queen -- was
making.
As Sharon's eyes reopened, Karen followed suit. Their
stares locked, wide and unblinking, as Sharon's lips began
to move. They seemed to be forming words but no sound came
from them. Karen's lips started to quiver. Sharon ran Her
hands over Her body and Her captive's hands broke free,
mirroring each movement.
It was as if a dam burst. Karen was soon moving in exact
unison with her Captor, her Tormenter, her Lover, her Life.
Yes, that was it. Her Life.
She heard the words first as they echoed in her mind, and
then as they both began to speak aloud in unison.
"*There is no old. There is only new.*"
"*There is Queen. There is Essence.*"
"*I love and serve Queen in all things. Obedience to Her
is the nature of existence.*"
Sharon began to fuck herself in earnest with her fingers
now. No longer resisting, Karen matched her in body and in
lust. Both women moaned loudly, the only difference found
in the natural pitch of their voices, creating an eerie
harmony of wild abandon.
"*I surrender. I obey. I live. I desire. I adore. I
become.*"
"*There is no old. There is only new.*"
"*There is Queen. There is Essence.*"
"*I love and serve Queen in all things. Obedience to Her
is the nature of existence.*"
"*I surrender. I obey. I live. I desire. I adore. I
become.*"
Their voices were shouting now, punctuated by moans and
gasps as their consummation came closer and closer. Over
and over the words came, driving them into deeper and
deeper oblivious passion. The Essence was visibly moving
over Karen now, taking more and more of her, leaving only a
few small patches of white skin uncovered.
Within moments, even that was gone.
Their locked vision broke and Sharon screamed in ecstasy
as the reward for Her conquest sprang through Her. Karen's
scream was equally intense as both women stepped into the
relentless pleasure of the Essence, flowing over and inside
them, consuming all that was not Essence, and giving only
blissful orgasm in return. They stiffened and shook as the
sensations went beyond their capacity to respond, burning
away into ash the women who had once been neighbors, had
once been human.
Neither could remember anything but now, and what they had
become. There was only the hunger for others to join them.
To join the Essence.
Sharon turned to look at the lesser woman, Her eyes now as
uniformly black as the rest of Her. Shapes and patterns
erupted on Her skin, forming intricate pulsating spirals
and facets that mirrored the light in ways that no woman,
no person, had ever seen. Karen's body followed as the last
of her humanity disappeared into ebony slickness.
The Essence had more than one way to capture its prey.
Pleasure sprang from them in molecules as they breathed
the Scent of Pleasure into the air. Their movements
hypnotic, they vibrated in constant orgasm as they licked
and nibbled their way up and down each others' bodies,
cycling the passion back and forth until the time to rest
was upon them.
There would be more coming soon. They could feel the
Essence growing in the distance around them. The Queen
smiled as She drifted off to sleep. Somewhere in the
innermost recesses of Her blackened mind, She had the most
delicious thought.
Officer Withers would be returning soon. And she had the
most delectable daughter...
Fin.
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If you wish to contact me, you may write me at:
sara_h2020@yahoo.com. Again, thanks for reading!