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4 Erotic Stories: Taboo Lust

Rosie Zweet








This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Rosie Zweet

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.



First Edition: February, 2018





Author’s note: This work is only for ADULT.

All characters are 18+



** Individual pictured is model and used for illustrative purposes only

Content

Her Captive (Part 1)

The Mistress’ Faithful Servant (Part 1)

Breaking the Curse!

The Beast of Borneo

Don’t miss out!

Also By Rosie Zweet

Her Captive

Central Europe, 100 AD.

Augustus staggered after receiving a hard kick on his rump. He knew these barbarians tried to humiliate him. But he straightened his back and kept his face impassive, ignoring the pain.

He knew the fall of Sisca, the northern garrison of the Empire was partially due to his stubbornness as the senior general and the leader of the Empire’s army. But he couldn’t possibly surrender to these barbarian or gave tithe as they demanded. He rather died fighting than lowering his dignity and paid the tribute.

Move, old man,” his jailor pushed him again. Augustus stumbled, entering a damp and dark hall. This place was dismal like a pile of crumbling stones. Here, everything was gray, colorless and gloomy, unlike Sisca, or any other cities near the Mediterranean Sea where he was born.

Sudden sound of loud jeering voices deafened his ears. People shouted, many savages’ eyes directed upon his person.

These mongrels! unable to feed themselves, only knew raiding and killing their neighbor. A stab of self-hate filled Augustus’s heart. Their sword, axes, and armors were inferior. Yet, he couldn’t hold them back. Maybe indeed, he was an aging man. He should have resigned from his post. But he was only forty and six, not yet fifty. He felt like he still could hold the sword in battle.

Augustus masked his anger and kept his silence, it’s the best way to deal with uncivilized people, according to his better judgment.

His jailor pushed him to his knee. “This’s the general,” the man announced.

Augustus lifted his gaze. In front of him was a tall and big man with a matted blond beard. A swift heat of bile rose deep inside of him. He remembered this man, Elmer the Black Hammer, the very man who stole Augustus’ first wife, twenty-five years ago.

“Strip him,” Elmer commanded in a smug voice.

The soldiers shouted some ribald jokes as they stripped him naked. They were going to kill him, he knew. But he refused to be their plaything. If they meant him to beg, he wouldn’t. He rather bit his own tongue!

Stood naked before them, he didn’t feel any shame. Let them saw, he had nothing to hide. His body was full of battle scars, decades-old wounds. He was still lean, corded with hard muscle. Even he was old and defeated, but once, he was feared general. One of the best in the empire.

“Well,” Elmer glanced at Augustus’ manhood. “You’ve big balls.”

People roared. “Make him decent,” Elmer added. “I have something or rather someone to show him.”

The soldier put a small loincloth; it’s barely covered his swinging manhood, but Augustus didn’t care.

The door opened, and Augustus’ heart skipped a beat as he saw a thin, frail woman walked in.

“Agrippina,” the name tumbled out his mouth unwittingly. Her eyes widened slightly before rapidly shuttered back. Dear Gods! It was his wife. He thought she had died decades ago.

“You still remember her, I see,” Elmer said in aggravating tone. He turned to his soldier. “Bring her back in. And fetch my daughter here,” Elmer paused and gave him another mocking smile. “I have a new toy for her.”

Augustus tried to see Agrippina’s face for the last time. She was still a beauty even now, yet she no longer the vivacious girl he remembered. Her warm brown eyes dulled and her face revealed nothing as if she had died years ago. Maybe indeed she had indeed died inside.

Augustus stood silent, trying to understand the game his enemy tried to play. He was still deep in thought when a young girl burst in. Her steps were light, the girl walked in bouncy steps, and somehow the gloomy room seemed brightened.

“Father, you found it?” she asked in a cheery voice, unaware of Augustus’ presence.

The girl was petite, but from the curves of her body, he knew she was old enough to breed, maybe eighteen or older. But her grayish-blue eyes held innocent. Her hair was so blonde, it looked almost white.

Elmer’s ugly face cracked into a grin. “He is here, my gel,” he said, smiling wider.

The girl turned around, and for the first time, she saw Augustus. Immediately she gasped as she spied his nearly naked state. She scanned his body up and down.

And Augustus’ face reddened despite himself. The girl could see his naked bottom for God’s sake!

This must be Elmer’s intention, shaming him in front of a mere slip of a girl.

Suddenly she frowned as if she found him lacking. “But Father, he’s old! Look he has many scars.” The girl pointed the battle scars on his midsection and chest. “I want a perfect doll!” she whined.

The great Elmer winced visibly. “My gel, I remember you ask for soldier toy. A live soldier toy. You see, this man was a general, of course, he has scars. Soldiers goes to battle, remember?”

Her frown deepened as if she was thinking hard.

“Or you prefer Albert there.” He pointed a young soldier with sandy hair. The soldier grinned, showing his rotten teeth.

In a flash, the girl shook her pretty head. “If you say so, Father. I’ll take this one,” she said reluctantly. “He won’t look so scary if I dress him up, won’t he?”

Now, it’s Augustus who winced. Damn!

Elmer’s blue eyes looked at him intently. “My daughter, Adela, is your new mistress now,” he said with a cruel grin on her face. “Do as she says. Or your lady love would pay.”

No need more explanation, Augustus knew who would pay if he decided to rebel. Oh, Agrippina, please forgive me. He had failed her once, and now, he didn’t plan to do it twice.


***


A shaft of light came from a small window on the wall. Augustus knew he wasn’t the only person taken to this godforsaken keep. He had spotted few of his comrades when he took his daily walk with Adela, the dimwit girl—er, no, he couldn’t say that. The girl wasn’t cruel like her father, only spoiled rotten by loving father. And it was true she rather naïve for girl of eighteen years of age.

“Oggie, which one is better?” the girl asked, holding two bright fabrics, blue and green.

Augustus fought the urge to scowl. His name was too long for her, so ‘Oggie’ she called him.

“Both,” he answered curtly.

The girl sulked, her full lips looked plumper when she pouted like this.

He sighed inwardly. It was better ‘both’ than ‘none’, but the girl seemed couldn’t understand.

The blue cloth is better,” he said finally.

Whatever clothes she chose or none, it wouldn’t matter. The girl was pretty, he reluctantly admitted. At first, Augustus suspected she was a plot to steal his seed. Maybe her father daggled her in front of him in a hope he would lose his mind and rape the girl, but now, it seemed unlikely. He was really a toy for her, a toy to dress, feed and other ridiculous plays.

Augustus tested the bell on his shackle. It chimed slightly. It’s hopeless.

Elmer had put the bell, so he could monitor where Augustus was, in case he decided to flee. But of course, he wouldn’t. Agrippina was here, so was dozens of his people. He had duty to those people. Besides, the shackle limited his movement, he couldn’t run.

He stole a glance at the girl before him. Breaking her pretty little neck was tempting. And it would be easy. They were alone in her bedchamber, only with two soldiers stood guards outside the door, but no, he wasn’t a monster. She wasn’t guilty of her father’s sin.

She pulled her cloak. Immediately, Augustus closed his eyes, but it’s too late he already saw her. Damn the girl! She was so shameless. Her clothes slithered down her small body, pooling on her feet. She giggled seeing his discomfort.

“Oh, Oggie, I just want to try the cloth, the fabric is so smooth,” she said.

Yes, the stolen clothes from my people!

He kept his eyes closed, but the image of her budding breast, tiny waist and slim legs and flared hips were already etched on his brain. He felt blood rushed to his cock. It began to throb and hardened unwillingly, tenting his loincloth. Damn!

Pulses pounded on his ears, his cock swelled more. He felt breezes caressed his throbbing length, his meager loincloth couldn’t cover him any longer, but he refused to hide himself. It wasn’t his fault, her father made him indecent.

He tried to remember that the girl was even younger than his own daughter, but it didn’t help.

It was because it had been so long since he fucked a woman, he tried to reason, but no, no woman was as fair as this one. Her beauty only rivaled to that of goddess.

He smelt her lavender’s scent before he felt her presence near. He knew without opening his eyes, the girl stood in front of him. He wondered what she was thinking. Did she see his raging cock?

He sucked his breath as he felt her tentative caress on his naked cock. Damn the loin cloth! His cock must be slipped out.

“Oh, Oggie, I’ve never seen this. It’s so big?” she said in awe.

He started to pant. Her curious fingers felt too much on his aching cock. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Glancing down, he saw her small hand on his rod. It seemed so wrong, yet he couldn’t stop himself. “It’s big because of you, little girl,” he growled.

She smiled sheepishly. “I want to try it,” she said, full of youthful curiosity.

Try it? Did she mean like what he thinks she meant?

Augustus knew her father wouldn’t approve, yet Augustus just stayed mute as the girl pushed him on the bed.

His bell rang as he fell.

“My lady?” the soldier asked in alarm.

Augustus’ heart beat erratically.

“I’m fine,” the girl replied.

She was gloriously naked, her hair tumbled down long to her hips. She stood, seeing him sprawled as a slow smile crossed her face.

His wandering gaze devoured her lithe body. Her skin was luminous, supple and healthy. The last shred of his sanity said he couldn’t do this. Her father would have his head, yet...

“Little one, we can’t do this, your fath—”

“He wouldn’t know,” she cut him as she climbed the bed and straddled his hips.

She took his erect cock again, and licked her lips in anticipation. His cock throbbed harder, imagining her pretty mouth around his red, angry rod.

Her small fingers moved, slowly at first, pumping, tugging his shaft, testing his hardness.

She blinked her eyes as she saw it grew, thickened and lengthened under her touch.

She bit her lips. He could see her mind worked hard now. She maneuvered; her cunt was dangerously close to his erect pole. His cock was so red, his veins seemed ready to pop.

His pulse pounded painfully loud in his ear. Her cunt was so pretty, small and puffy. He longed to sink his overeager rod in her. But he knew he couldn’t. Having her meant death, yet he couldn’t tell her to stop.

Tugging his rod, she aimed her entrance, “Oggie, is this right?” Her innocent question made his cock lurched up, brushing her lightly.

“Ohhhh,” she moaned before she pressed harder, rubbing his cockhead on her cuntlips.

Throwing her head back, her lips parted in silent moans.

Oh, Oggie, it’s so big,” she tried to push his cock in her tiny hole. “How?”

If his cock wasn’t aching so bad, he might laugh at her adorable expression, but as it happened his brain had stopped working properly since she put her small hand on him.

He kept his silence. He could say the girl had forced him if he stayed still and let her fucked herself on his cock. Yes, that’s a good idea.

She pushed again, her cuntlips parted, he could feel her wetness on his heated flesh, but her effort still for naught. She was just too tight.

She pouted and tugged harder. Annoyance clear on her young face, not giving up, she smeared his cockhead with her cream, using his cockhead to push her button, pleasuring herself.

Her breath ragged as she moaned softly. “Oggie, this’s nice.”

She brought him back to her small entrance and pushed harder, and this time, he slipped in, just a little.

He felt blinding pleasure. He threw his head back. This was torture. He wanted to sink deeper in her, but no, not yet. He gripped the bed sheet hard, stopping himself from giving it to her.

With another push, her cuntlips stretched wider, his shaft finally slipped in.

“Ohhhh,” she moaned, tossed her head in rapture.

Her cunt was so slick and scorching hot. His cock lengthened in her.

“Ahhhh,” he hissed.

Her blue eyes looked at him in wonder. She bit her lips. “It’s so good,” she said with rounded eyes.

He couldn’t help himself, his hips bucked involuntarily, penetrating deeper.

“Arrrgh,” they moaned together.

She leaned down. Her palm on his battle scared chest. Anchoring in his flesh, she shoved down, impaling herself on him.

He saw stars. His hips bucked, once and twice. Her cunt was too much. Her young muscled gripped him so tight. His cock twitched, spilling his seed deep in her.

He jerked hard. “Arrrgh… arrrgh,” he grunted as he emptied in her. He couldn’t help himself.

He didn’t remember ever losing control so fast like this, but here he was, cumming like a green boy.

“Oggie… ooohhh,” the girl moaned. It seemed she liked the feel of his hot release.

He panted hard, his cock had stopped cumming, but still hard. It planted deep in her scalding cave.

She pouted. “Why did you stop? It starts to feel nice very nice.”

Her innocent words made him twitched once more.

“Yesss… that’s it that’s it,” she crooned, rolling her hips.

“Again. I want that again,” she pleaded.

He still panted. He couldn’t believe this young girl craved his seed.

“Can’t, girl,” he croaked. “You have to make me.”

Her eyes lit up. “How?”

“Move, up and down, yesss… like that, pump my old cock,” he grunted, instructing his intrepid pupil.

Ohhh, it feels good,” she moaned as she rode him, up and down, faster and faster.

The sounds of slapping flesh filled the room. “Oggie… ohh… ohhh… ahhh…” she cried, enjoying herself on him.

“Shhh.” He covered her mouth with his palm as he bucked hard following her retreating cunt. “Your guards,” he reminded her as he pounded her small cunt.

She nodded, and he let go of his palm. Finally he dropped all pretenses of reluctant and filled her, in and out, as hard and fast as he liked to.

She kept her fist in her mouth to stop her moans of pleasure and bounced with youthful energy.

He was in heaven now. This tight, young cunt clung so tight on him. He didn’t remember the last time he fucked a woman this hard. He felt ready to cum again as he rutted in erratic pace.

Her body jerked and her cunt fluttered around him. Her cunt strangled him to death. A soft tortured moan tumbled from her lips. He leaned up, taking her cries with a kiss.

He circled her tiny waist as he pounded her deeper, thrusting up like a possessed man. His balls started to twitch. He felt a jolt of pleasure.

Uggh,” he grunted. He cried in her mouth as the first glob of his seed spurt deep inside her womb.

He jerked and jerked, filling her to overflowing. He could feel his seed seeping, she was just so small.

She fell limp, her pretty head nestled in the crook of his neck, but he kept pumping her. He still had seed left in his balls.

“Arrgh,” he moaned, couldn’t stop himself and shoved deep for the last time.

Finally, he spent and fell on the bed, bringing her with him.

Their skins were damp with perspiration. Her young and firm breasts nestled on his chest. Their hearts raced in the same rhythm.

“It’s wonderful,” she whispered.

Her small hand played on his scared chest. “You have many scars, Oggie,” she stated the obvious.

“Yes,” he grunted. Then he remembered his very life was in her small hand now. If she told her father, he would die before he could utter a word of appeal.

“You can’t tell your father about this, do you understand?”

She lifted her head, her blue eyes held his. “Of course, Oggie. I’m not that stupid. I know Father doesn’t like seeing me with a man.”

She smiled in understanding before she put her head back on his shoulders.

Yes, girl, you’re that stupid. Why else you gave your virginity to a slave?


Note: To be continued, but not sure when.


The Mistress’ Faithful Servant (Part 1)

Miss Titania Murray

1814, London, England.

As I sit in my parlor, I try to school my face into cheerful expression. I know as a mere mistress I don’t have a right to complain to Peter, my protector.

“Don’t be so sad, Love. I am going only for a week,” he says, cajoling. “My mother will have my head if I miss her house party,” he adds, smiling, showing me the dimples on his handsome face.

I lock his pleading green eyes. I know Lady Ravenshaw, his mother, well enough. We were neighbors in the countryside, after all. But I know as a fallen woman, I am no longer welcomed in her house, the house that was like a second home for me, back then when I was a respectable Miss Titania Murray.

“Of course, I’m not sad. I’m planning to visit my modiste this week, I hope you won’t mind the expense,” I say with a fake smile.

He smiles wider; it makes him look even younger than his twenty and one.

“Thank you,” he says, leaning closer and kisses me briefly on the lips before he says his goodbye.

Seeing his retreating back, I can’t help the squeeze in my heart. It still pains me that our relationship has come to this. We should be married by now, but by the turn of fate, I am just a mere mistress to my beloved lover. If only my father didn’t kill himself and ruin our family.

I let out a heavy sigh. It is no good to dwell in the past. But I feel that lately, Peter’s attention is waning. This is almost a month since the last time he visited my bed. I know that someday he will marry but, oh, it hurts so much just to think about it. And it makes me afraid too. I am afraid that he will tire of my body and womanly charm.

What should I do then?

A discrete cough from my loyal butler forces me back from my reverie.

“What it is, John?” I ask the old family butler. He is the only servant that I can’t bear to let out when my family came to ruin, one year ago. John is well past fifty if he is a day, too old to find another employment. He—like his departed father—is a loyal servant to the Murray, and always been there as I grow up. He is like a family to me.

“The cook said the biscuit is ready, Miss, perchance you want to sample it?” he asks with gentle blue eyes that framed with deep lines.

“Oh, yes, of course, I forget about it. Thank you, John,” I say.

The biscuit is Peter’s favorite. It is specially made just for him and it is useless now. Yet another thing that makes me sad.

***

I lie alone on my bed. I turn around, unable to sleep. I miss a man’s touch. I miss a hard rod inside me. It has been a week since the house party supposed to end and Peter is not yet visited me, not even once. He doesn’t even write a letter.

Is he truly tired of me? It seems I have to accept the truth now.

Maybe I should I seek another protector. I know I can get one easily. I am still young and beautiful. My face is delicate with big blue eyes and rose bud lips that beg to be kissed often and well. I remember many suitors I had years ago, I am sure one of them will gladly replace Peter’s position.

But the thought of new protector gives me a bile taste. In the nineteen years of my existence, Peter is my only lover, my childhood sweetheart that teach me what lust is, what man and woman can do together. The image of naughty things I did with Peter makes me tingle. I chase the image away as soon as it comes.

Maybe I should sell all my jewelry and this house, then move to a small cottage in the countryside and live a respectable, modest life. I shake my head and laugh bitterly. I don’t think I can live a chaste life after having a taste of man’s touch. I need a man as it is. My cunt still throbs persistently, reminding me of the fact.

Gingerly, I lift my nightgown to my waist, then I touch my naked cunt. I rub it slowly, imagining it is Peter’s hand doing the deed.

“Oh, Peter…” I moan. I rub fast and faster.

I really need a man’s cock.

I put a finger in my cunt and pumping in and out slowly.

Yes, I should seek a new protector, a man who will take care of my need. But I can’t do it at least until Peter formally set me aside.

I put another finger inside me and pump in and out, faster. I bite my lip to stop my moan.

A sudden knock on my door makes my hand stops mid-pumping.

“Miss?” comes John’s voice from another side of the door.

Why is it? It is almost midnight. And without waiting for my answer, John opens the door.

Abruptly, he stops in his track and the letter in his hand fall to the floor. “Oh, dear God,” he says as he sees my naked thighs and cunt in the dim light. “I… I’m sorry, Miss. The letter… I thought it will… ahh…,” he stutters but he seems unable to tear his gaze from my naked, young body. I see a glimpse of lust in his old eyes.

John’s body sways, ready to leave. “Wait, John,” I say, fast, preventing him from turning his back on me.

“Ummm, yes, Misss?” he asks, averting his eyes from my throbbing cunt.

I steal a glance at his trousers. My heart beats madly as I weigh the prospect.

I can’t as well take another lover besides Peter.

But John is my loyal servant. He won’t tell anyone about my wanton behavior. And John is still a man, isn’t he? The bulge in his trousers is the proof of it.

“Come here, John. I need your help,” I say, beckoning him closer.

I sense he almost bolted but finally with great reluctance, he walks closer to the bed, still averting his eyes.

“Closer, John,” I say. My heart beats harder with each step he takes. And my cunt pulsing madly, eager to be filled with John’s old manhood.

Lazily, I wake up and kneeling on the bed. I stroke John’s cock through his trousers with my small hand. It seems so big, making me shudder.

People say that commoner usually has a bigger cock. It is what ladies tittering about, and it will hurt us, a gentle-bred lady. But my maid says that the bigger the better. I never had any other cock other than Peter’s so I don’t know which one is true.

“Mi… Miss,” John stutters but he does nothing to stop my wandering hand.

My cunt is pulsing madly as John’s cock grows under my touch.

“Ahh…” he moans.

He throws his head back in rapture, his eyes half closed in pleasure. He seems can’t help it.

“We need the same thing… why don’t we help each other?” I ask as I see John’s face.

“Ohhh… Miss. I can’t believe you do this to me…”

“What John? I need a man. And you’re a man, aren’t you?” I say as I squeeze his manly part lightly to make a point.

He makes a strangling voice. “Ahhh… we can’t miss. How can I? You’re like a granddaughter to me. I saw you born, a wee thing you were,” he says but his throbbing cock says another thing.

“That’s why John. I trust you, you will never betray me, never hurt me. And you won’t tell Peter about this,” I say, still stroking his cock and determined to have my way.

Slowly, I fall back to the bed and open my legs wide, showing my glistering, needy cunt to John’s bugged eyes.

“Comes here, John. Put your old cock in my cunt,” I say with a sweet voice.

“Oh, Miss, why you do this?” he asks. I see a glint of tears in his blue eyes. For a moment I pity him, but it doesn’t last long. My cunt really needs his cock.

Propelled on my elbows, I glance down to my cunt as I spread my legs wider and bucking my hips slowly, mimicking the mating dance.

I see the change in John’s face, his eyes seem darker and his nose flaring. I know his control will snap soon.

“Please John… my tight cunt really needs you,” I say, biting my lip and look at him pleadingly.

With a low growl, he opens his trousers. I gasp as his trousers slip to the floor, revealing his erect cock.

Oh, my! He’s truly much bigger than Peter’s. It makes me take a pause. I am not sure I can take his big cock in my small cunt.

“You ask for it, Miss,” he says as he climbs the bed and crawls up to me.

I am transfixed at the sight of his cock. It makes my brain stops working and my cunt aching more.

And suddenly, I feel his hot tip on my slit. I shudder at the feel.

“Oh, John,” I moan as he nudges closer, dipping his tip on my slick, tight hole.

He grunts like an animal before he thrusts in and impaling me in one swift movement.

My mouth opens in a silent moan and my back arched. Oh, God! It feels like heaven having a big, throbbing meat inside me.

I never feel this full before. He stretches me so wide. I feel like a virgin all over again. His thick, long cock reaches the place that never been touched.

“Ahhh… so bloody tight,” John growls as he bucks, bucks and bucks, stroking my aching, needy flesh.

“Oh, John, oh… oh,” I scream. The pleasure is too much. I can’t believe John’s frail body can bring this much pleasure inside me.

I clutch the bedding as I buck and buck, following his erratic pumping. His movement seems out of practice but it makes me hotter by the thought that I can bring my faithful servant to the state of raving mad with lust.

“Take my cock, Miss… ahhh… ahhh…” he pants as he plows me in and out haphazardly.

He seems don’t care about the finesse art of love making he ruts me like an animal. Only pleasure that matters now. We need to scratch our itch. We only fuck, not making love.

Without slowing down his bucking hips, he leans closer and takes my hard nipple in his mouth through my nightgown while his hand dives under, trying to remove the offending garment away from my body.

I lift my hand, helping him removing my nightgown. And finally, I can feel his lapping tongue on my naked flesh.

“Sweet tits,” he growls as he pumps my cunt in and out faster. He seems truly can’t help himself. My young body does that to him, I marvel.

“I love your big cock, John,” I say as I clench my inner muscle on his pistoning manhood.

“Ahhhh…. Miss,” he growls before he grabs my hips and proceeds to hammer me again and again.

“Yesss… oh… yesss… oh,” I yelp with his each hard punch.

“I can’t believe that I finally fuck your sweet young cunt, Miss,” he grows, still fucking me with his thick rod.

I arch my back and yell as I come. I close my eyes. I feel like I see a firework. The pleasure is too much. I never came this hard before. I feel my release gushing out from my widely stretched cunt.

“John!Ahhh… John,” I moan as my cunt milks his pistoning manhood tight.

He stilled, stop moving his cock. “Arrgh… so tight… ahhh… yes milk me, Miss, squeeze your old servant,” he groans as he savors my tightness.

After a moment of mindless pleasure, finally, I come down from my haze. I feel limp and sated but John still not yet finished, of course.

“It’s my turn now, Miss,” he says as he starts to plow me erratically with ragged breath.

I let him do as he pleased. He jolts my body up and down with his hard thrusts. I feel too weak to respond.

His thrust quickened, I can feel his impending release. His cock swells even more inside me. I know I should tell him to pull out but seeing the sheer pleasure on his face, I can’t do it. John’s eyes are tightly closed and his mouth is half open as his raging cock slithering in and out me rapidly.

“Ahhh, Miss… I’m cumming… ahhhahhh…”

With a loud roar, his cock pulses inside me as he fills me with his seed.

His hips jerk, jerk, and jerk. He makes me come once more, draining the last strength out of my sated body. My cunt spasms around his spurting cock, milking his seed to the last drop.

“Oh… John,” I moan as my hip bucks involuntary.

Then, he collapses atop of me, breathing hard.

I stroke his back. His shirt is damp with sweat.

“Thank you, John. It’s wonderful,” I say, truly mean it.

He only grunts in answer. For a moment, I am afraid that his heart is given out. I heard some story that old man sometimes can’t stand the bout of love making.

“John?” I ask, almost afraid.

“Give me a break, Miss,” he says before he slowly rolls off me.

I am glad that he still alive. I won’t do if my butler dies on my bed. And I chuckle at the thought.

***

The morning comes. My cunt is still sore because John’s hard pounding last night.

Reluctantly, I wake up, smelling the coffee which my maid puts on the table. But it is the letter beside it that gives me a pause. The letter that John tried to give me last night before he fucked me senseless. I giggle, remembering what happened last night. I can’t believe I let my old butler fuck me like that. No, it wasn’t that I let him, it was I that seduced him, demanding he filled me with his old cock.

Poor John.

But it was the most wonderful thing. Now, I know what silly notion that commoner’s cock is too big for a lady.

I open the letter. It is Peter’s hand writing. I read it briefly. I let out a soft sigh. I don’t know what to say about his apology. I am not sure either whether his father truly needs his help on the estate’s matter in the countryside. I know his parents are trying to break our liaison. I am no longer a suitable bride for their son. I really should prepare my heart, for I am sure it will break soon.

As much as Peter’s profess to love me. I know he will bend to his parents’ demand to marry a wealthy heiress soon. And he will set me aside sooner or later.

Suddenly, the joy of last night’s fuck evaporates quickly like a morning mist.

Oh, Peter, why, why the fate is cruel to us?


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Breaking the Curse!

Missy the Cat

It seems today’s fight is worse than usual. My mistress screams and throws tantrum, her rage is a sight to behold. It is a common thing in this house; it has been like that since I don’t remember when. I know I don’t have a great memory. I don’t even remember where I am or who I am—or was. Vaguely, I remember a castle made of stone, a father and mother, and someone called me ‘Princess’. I am not sure if it’s real, though. As for now, I am just a tabby cat with golden stripes.

Seeing the master and mistress shouting at each other make a fleeting sensation crosses my chest. It oddly feels like sadness. One thing, I am sure of, a cat can feel too. I want them to stop. It was a useless battle. I understand Mistress’ resentment, her beauty demands an adoring husband, and she can’t find it in him. I had been that kind of girl before, in another life, a dream-like life where knight fight for lady’s favor, where a princess lives in the tower.

Had it been a dream, an illusion? I am not sure how many summers have passed since I saw him, the man I loved above all else, a man with hair as black as night and eyes as blue as summer’s sky. The only man who dared to love another instead of me, his beautiful princess, yet his face escapes me. I knew he was the only thing I could never have. The man I scarcely remember, yet he led me into eternal prison. I was young, I was arrogant, and now, I am cursed.

I meow and scramble out of the way as Mistress drags her wheeled-box, marching to the door in haste. Oddly, I know she won’t come back. I have lived so many lives; I know that some broken things will stay broken forever like me. And love, I no longer believe, it’s just a myth. I had crossed the ocean and outlived Mistresses and Masters to many to count, yet love still eluded me.

Wiggling my tail, I crawl, the jump into the couch where my master sits, slumped, looking at the moving picture on the flat screen with blank eyes. Somehow, he looks older, sad and defeated.

I nuzzle his thigh, drawing his attention. I don’t want him sad like this.

I meow again, and as if in a trance, he strokes my golden fur, and I purr in approval. He needs me, and I can’t leave him now.

My master is a good man, I know. Years have passed since I am his. I glance up, seeing soft lines in his tanned face. He was a young man when he took me from the street, and now, his brown hair is graying and thinning. His trim waist has thickened a bit since some years ago, yet I still can see the handsome, young man in him even though Mistress seems can’t. The kindness in his gray eyes is the same. And he loves me, Missy, his dear cat.

Out of sudden, he picks and puts me in his lap. “Will you leave me too, Missy?” he murmurs. His hand moves, brushing my golden fur.

“No, Master,” I want to say, but I just meowing instead.

He gazes at me, his eyes glazed with tears. “How old are you now, Girl?” he asks me. “You will leave me too… and I… I can’t live without you, Girl…oh…” he choked with tears.

I don’t want him to cry. I meow and meow again. Right now, I hate being a cat. Curse her, the fairy godmother!

***


I sit on the window sill, seeing the sun descends to the west as golden color creeps in the horizon. And slowly, the star and the moon appear in the darkening sky.

My master is right. I have been with him for far too long. I should leave years ago, but the thought of leaving him, especially now souring my mood. Not now, I say to myself. Years or maybe centuries have passed, and a few more years is nothing.

I tilt my head, looking at the moon. I almost forget today is a full moon, the only day in a month when I can try to find love and break the curse, but I don’t really care, maybe deep down I had given up a long time ago.

The moonlight hits my golden fur, making it glows and one by one it falls as my bone grows. I moan despite myself, feeling an intense sensation deep in my body, it is a mix of pleasure and pain. My body molds into a slender youth of woman, long limbs and tiny waist. I was nineteen when the curse befell me, and the time seems to stop thereafter.

I spy my reflection in the mirror. I glance up and down my young, nubile flesh. My tits aren’t overly large like Mistress’ mature tits, but it firm and perky, its nipples peeking between my long, golden hair. And I can’t find a fault in my face too. It still delicately shaped: full lips, dainty nose, arched eyebrows and high cheekbones. It still the same even after all these years, only my eyes are different. It is no longer blue, but hazel with golden glints.

Admiring my supple body, firm tits and curved hips, I know I am prettier than Mistress even in her youth. What will master think if he sees me? Will he like my body? I know he will, most of them do. And my master is a man too, I often see him fucks Mistress or simply stroke his pole by himself, and in those times I really wish I can reveal myself and help him to finish. Yes, I want to make him happy, my cunt is much better than his own hand. I will let him sink his manhood in me, and my cunt throbs in approval.

The corner of my lips tugs involuntarily, but the smile dies as soon as I remember that it has been years since the last time I mated, yet…

I bit my lip. Should I try? Yes, I should at least cheer him up before I am looking for a new master.

Moving, swaying my hips as I walk to the parlor. I know Master is there, still drowning in his sorrow. I draw a deep breath before I enter the room. And I am right, he is there, slouched on the couch, his gaze glued to the screen.

Halting my step, I peer at his loose, short pant. Seeing the bulge there, my heartbeat thumps hard and shivers run through my spine before it stops deep inside my cunt, making my inside quivers with need. Oh, I really miss having a cock in me. I know the princess in me won’t look twice at my master, but the Missy in me eagers to take care, pampering his aching member.

I come slinking, crossing the room, my steps are steady and sure. “Master,” I call him in a raspy voice, still unable to control it fully.

He turns his head, his eyes widened, staring my naked body dumbly. His mouth is hanging open in shock. He gulps. “Who are you?” he asks.

I move, gliding, swaying my hips, then kneeling between his thighs. I glance up, locking his gaze. “Master…” I whisper.

He swallows hard. “If Anna sends you—argh.” Feeling my face brushes his cock, he unable to finish his words. I nuzzle his crotch like I often do. It seems my habit as a cat is hard to die.

But I am no cat. Master is moaning, bucking his hips, rubbing his cock on my face as if unable to help himself.

I draw back. “Let me please you, Master,” I say with wide, earnest eyes.

He says nothing, just looking at me in wonder.

And it takes it as yes. With deft hands I open his pants, freeing his hard cock. It springs free and hit my face, making me purr in joy.

“Oh… it’s so big,” I murmur. And it’s truly big, I don’t remember I had a cock this big in me.

He lifts his hand to stroke my golden hair. “Yes, it’s big for a girl like you,” he says as he looks at me with gentle eyes.

My heart swells with happiness while another part of me swells with lust. Ever so slowly, I brush his hot flesh, up and down, coaxing it to grow even bigger.

He closes his eyes in rapture and panting hard. “I won’t give her this house if—arggh…. oh, god!”

I smile, happy that Master likes my hand on him. And pleasing him, making my cunt pulses and wet. I press my legs close to easing my aching core, but of course, it only deepens my need. Oh, it has been a long time.

With a loving hand, I stroke his veined shaft faster, drawing his moans and grunts. “Am I doing it right, sir?” I ask. I know times had passed and many things had changed.

“Arrrghh…. yess… stroke me faster, Girl arrghh,” he throws his head back.

Seeing the pleasure on his face, I can’t stand it anymore. My cunt needs his hard rod, so hastily I straddle him, aiming his cock at my entrance, ready for him.

“How old are you, Girl?” he asks, breathless.

I look at him blankly. How old? I don’t remember. Hundred? Thousand? “Nineteen,” I said finally. I was nineteen summers when I made the most stupid mistake in my life, I remember that.

“Are you sure?” he asks again. I know he wants me regardless my age, nineteen or nineteen hundred, doesn’t really matter to him, so I keep the lie.

Glancing at his ready pole, “Sir, may I?”

But he says nothing, he just grabs my tiny waist and parts my cuntlips with his mushroom tip, sliding inside my wet cave.

“Oh, Master…” I purr.

“Arrrg… so tight… yes… yes… fuck me, Girl,” he breathes hard.

Gradually, my wall covers his throbbing length. “Oh, sirrrr…” I moan. I really miss this!

He is panting like an animal now. I glance at his pained faces, his mouth is half-open, showing his appreciation of my tight cunt. My heart is filled with pride. I give him that pleasure.

But I feel the pleasure too. It grows with each inch of his shaft in me. My body is aching all over. I knead my tits as I continue to slide down inch by inch. Oh, heaven! His cock feels so nice, so big.

Master is old and wrinkled and no handsome knight, I know. But he is dear to me. I know he loves me, his Missy. And I want him to be happy.

“Oh, God! You’re so tight!” he grunted, shoving in harder to the hilt, stretching my wall, pushing it around his hardness.

Then, we are gone. We buck madly, rubbing our flesh in a rapid pace, seeking the promise of heaven. And each of his strokes brings me close and close to the edge of pleasure. I am so close… I want—no, I need him deeper and faster. Oh, God!

“So weeett…. arrggh!”

Suddenly, he put my nipple in his mouth, suckling hard while his rod slithers in and out without a pause.

I arch my back. The combination of his hard pounding and eager suckling is too much.

“Oh… sirrr…” The world seems to fade and I float in heaven. I can’t feel anything else but his pounding cock. And the feel of his in and out, prolonging my pleasure.

Suddenly, his cock lurches deeper. “I’m cumming… arrrgh!” he roars.

Oh, yes yes… I can feel his sticky globs deep inside my womb.

“Oh, sir…” I hold his shoulder as he jolts my body hard, again and again, injecting me with his scalding seed.

I am weak and sated. I rest my head on his shoulder while he keeps twitching inside me, feeding my hungry cunt more and more to overflowing.

I don’t know for how long his cock is emptying inside me, but it feels like minutes.

Our breaths are loud and sharp. I nuzzle his neck, seeking his soothing nearness. I feel a soft peck on the top of my head.

“Thank you, Girl,” he whispers hoarsely.


***


Even without opening my eyes, I know where I am. It’s Master’s bedroom. I stretch my body, and yawn.

I am still half-asleep when I feel something brushing my firm tits.

“Emmm…” I moan. I remember that Master and I, we were fucking all night. And my cunt is still sore. I press my legs tighter, marveling the sweet ache inside—my cunt!

My eyes fly open, and Master’s gray eyes smile at me.

“Finally, you’re wake up sleepy head,” he whispers while his fingers play with my rounded globes.

“Am I… Am I a girl?” I ask wide-eyed.

He looks at me with amusement. “Speaking of it, I don’t even know your name.”

Ignoring his question, I jump and padded to the mirror. My eyes sting as I see my reflection. My eyes are back to blue now. I am human!

“Ah… I understand. It’s just…” he pauses as his eyes dimmed and the joy gone from his face. “So how much is it, Girl?” he asks.

I glance at him. So I found love… Love? Him? Yes, I love him. It has been years since I care for him. I feel tear wetting my cheeks.

“Damn! Don’t cry, please. I know I am old and ugly, but I know my money as good as—”

I jump back to the bed and hug him tight. “Oh, Master. I love you. It’s Missy. I am Missy,” I say between sobs.

I know he won’t believe me, but I have years to convince me. Yes, I have years to love him… many, many years to love

The Beast of Borneo

Catherine Smith

Seeing, her son’s blazing eyes made Catherine remembered him. For a flash, her son’s eyes glowed in unnatural silvery color, just like his. Catherine’s heart skipped a beat, oh god, no


Borneo, two decades earlier.

Today, the sky was dark blue with many stars twinkling, splattering across its darkness. It was so beautiful and still so foreign to Catherine, all of this wildness of Borneo. She went here for the animal, the orangutan, but it seemed she fell in love with the land as well even though the wheatear little too hot for her taste, but still it was better than at home.

Catherine was eighteen, a broken-hearted girl, so when she heard about the volunteering’s opportunity for orangutan foundation in Borneo, she didn’t think twice to apply. Her parents were worried, of course, they had never heard of the island before, despite it just located in the neighboring country, but finally, they relented.

Tonight, Catherine felt a bit homesick, so she decided to wander outside the camp. She had made new friends here, but talking about the orangutan or people back home held no appeal for her. Besides she had been here for almost two weeks, yet she had never explored the ground properly. Many volunteers—the adventurous ones—had been familiar with their surrounding from the day one, but not Catherine.

People said that their Conservation Camp was built on an ex-lab of mad Dutch scientist, Arnoud Hendriks. He had already died decades ago, shortly after the country declared their independence. But people whispered that his creations were still roaming the forest. Catherine wasn’t sure what was it, but it made her more excited rather than afraid.

Slowly, Catherine walked through the muddy path. No rainfall today, but the ground was soft and muddy. Glancing up at the sky, she marveling how big the universe was, and how small and insignificance she was. Here, Brad—her ex-boyfriend—betrayal seemed insignificance as well. She was fine here. She even planned to give him her blessing when she went back to Sidney. Brad was her childhood friend after all and stayed sad forever only made her look pathetic.

Catherine sighed loudly. She felt getting old fast in the last two months.

Out of sudden, her ears picked a growling sound from bushes nearby. Catherine stopped in her track, her heart beat hard in her chest. With a trembling hand, she turned on her flashlight, trying to see in the darkness.

Then, she heard another rustling sound. Hastily she turned her back, and there, she saw it—or him. His eyes were like two metallic silvers. Catherine was paralyzed, unable to move as the creature walked—crawled on all fours and slowly came closer to her. He bared his teeth at her menacingly.

Catherine wasn’t sure what he was. He was naked, and his skin was slightly darker than Catherine’s. He looked like a human despite his glowing silver eyes, silver hair and canine teeth. He growled again, showing his fangs, making Catherine remembered her own puppy back home. But he was no puppy. He was big, she was sure he was more than six foot if he stood.

Slowly, she craned her hand, trying to pet the beast’s metallic silver hair, but he growled again and shied away.

Catherine had heard a story about the pair of mad scientists. They were not really mad at first, but after his wife died in childbirth, the husband descended into madness, people said. He refused to bury her body and insisted that he would bring her back to life. He vowed to find the secret of life and death. And what happened to his twin baby, people didn’t know. But likely they were the first victim of their father’s quest for immortality.

Suddenly, the beast jumped at her, tumbling her with him to the ground. Catherine closed her eyes, preparing for the worst. Instead of fangs, she felt a wet, hot tongue licked her face.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, their gazes held. He drew back and stopped licking her. His silver eyes stared at her in wonder as if he had never seen an odd creature like her. And maybe, it was indeed the first time he saw a blonde girl with blue eyes like her.

He made growled sound deep in his throat and bared his teeth slightly. Looking at him up close, with his square jaw and high cheekbones, he was a handsome man, Catherine thought. But Catherine couldn’t discern how old he was. It seemed he was older than she thought at first. He was a man at his early thirty perhaps, much older than her.

Slowly, Catherine lifted her hand to stroke his long silver hair. And this time, he let her did it. His hair was soft, untangled. It seemed different than human’s hair. It was softer and silkier.

He made a soft purring sound before he nuzzled her neck, making her nipple hardened involuntarily. It supposed to be innocent, but he was still a man, he looked like one. Out of sudden, he stopped licking her neck and drew back. They stared each other. Catherine’s breath was short and hard by now while her heart thudded madly below her aching breasts.

Inch by inch, he leaned down to lick her full lips. Oh, God! Catherine closed her eyes. His curious tongue felt nice. Brad was the only one who ever did this to her, but it not quite the same. The beast’s tongue was tentative, not quite carnal, he just tested her response as he nibbled her lips slightly with his teeth. Seeing no protest from her, he continued licking her down to her jaw, her neck… making her body trembling, hot and restless.

Suddenly, he stopped. Catherine heard it too. A rustling sound from nearby bushed. The beast growled and stared at Catherine’s blue eyes before swiftly, he leaped and ran, leaving her alone, still in a daze.

***


Catherine’s a month stay in Borneo almost came to an end. She went to the forest every night, hoping to see the beast again, but he never showed up, much to her dismay. He was a curiosity to her.

Tonight, for the last time, Catherine went to the forest. She wasn’t sure why she kept doing it, but her slender legs kept moving forward step by step, while her eyes stayed alert, looking for slight movement around the bushes.

Night grew late, and now, she was seated on the big grey stone, looking up at the full moon above. The sky was light blue tonight, and the forest not quite so dark as usual. It seemed her last chance to meet the beast was dashed. He wouldn’t be out about in the full moon night, people said.

Catherine had asked around about him, but what people told her seemed so absurd. It was more like a children’s horror story than fact. She couldn’t find a single clue until two days ago, she found an old note and a photograph in the old storage room. The photograph was the picture of the scientist couple, she was sure. But the picture was so old and blurry. She couldn’t see their face clearly. The only thing that clear was they both had light colored hair, maybe blonde like hers. And the wife seemed so young, maybe she was only a few years older than Catherine when she died.

Out of curiosity, Catherine even visited the wife, Anneke Hendriks’, burial ground. It seemed her husband was failed to bring her back, of course, no one could do that, mad or not.

From the information Catherine could gather, she knew that their twin was a boy and a girl. At first, she thought that maybe the beast was the boy, but she quickly scrap that possibility, for the baby—if he was alive must be close to sixty, and the beast wasn’t that old, except if his father had succeeded in finding the secret of immortality. And it was highly unlikely. So, the beast was still a curiosity to her.

Sadly, Catherine only knew a few local words, so it was kind of pointless to continue her little research.

Catherine stilled immediately as she listened a rustling sound. She turned her head and there, she finally saw him again, still naked, his skin gleamed under the moonlight. He was crawling like a beast that he was. His eyes glowed like burning silver.

Catherine stayed motionless, her heartbeat was racing. Slowly but surely, he came near her. He nuzzled and licked her neck.

“You’ve come,” she muttered low.

The beast stopped and glanced at her with his silver eyes, looking at her in wonder. He lifted his calloused hand up to her face, stroking it gently, making a shiver ran through her body.

“Who are you?” she panted.

But the beast just looked at her with his innocent silver eyes. He leaned closed to lick her cheeks, slurped and slurped, he went.

She knew this was nothing sexual to him, but to her, it was different. His hot tongue brought a fever in her young body, making her tingled in odd places.

Gently, he shoved her until she laid on her back. She could see his face very clearly as he was hovering close to her. His paw-like hand clawed her blouse, brushing her nipple, making it hardened in an instant. He tugged her clothes about as if he wanted to know what was inside. He bared his teeth when he failed to do so.

Catherine didn’t want to distress him, so, with trembling hand she opened her blouse, revealing her bra to his burning gaze.

He poked at her bra, making her ached more. Then roughly he tore it, baring her rounded breast. He growled in approval before he leaned down and took her aching nipple into his mouth.

Oh, God! She felt the pleasure right into her pussy. She arched her back, feeding more of her nipple into the beast’s mouth. He growled again as he grazed her soft skin with his sharp teeth. Oh, this felt so nice. She never went this far with her ex-boyfriend. This was the first time a man did this to her.

The beast suckled her faster, even as simple as he was. He knew how to suck a woman breast, sending butterfly into her stomach, making her core ached with need.

With a loud pop, he released her breast. He stared at her with a hungry, curious gaze. Maybe, just like her, this was the first time he ever did this.

Catherine brought her hand around his neck, drawing his face down and kissed him. He stilled for a moment, seeming not sure what to do. But soon, he kissed her hard. He made a growling sound while he plowed her lips with his hot tongue while his lips were shaping hers, molding her roughly, nibbling and biting her.


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