The Party Host

By DX

Copyrighted, 7/2026 all rights reserved.  No parts of this story may be reproduced in any format, or used in AI in any way.

 Brian felt the grey of the dismal day drain away as he entered his flat.  When the door slid closed and the pressure locks engaged, he stood in the quiet, the space illuminated by the dim light from the compu-monitor mounted on the fridge.  It was an efficient room, kitchenette, living-room bedroom, bathroom/shower space, sixteen meters square, with an additional one by two meter balcony that overlooked the central plaza.

 It was a tiny, tiny space, but his space, and he could afford it and still set aside enough to put towards his retirement, so that when the time came, fifty years into the future, he would not live in absolute squalor, or worse, sent to the Abattoir.

 He took off his resi-mask and set it on its charger before grabbing a soy-beer from the fridge.  He took a good pull from it, and winced at the horrible taste while forcing himself to like it.  He then turned and sat on the couch, grabbed his sensi-crown and slipped it over his head.  He leaned back and logged into his game, checking to see who was on-line and ready to go questing.  He checked his sword and shield, and made sure his forty watt plasma cannon had a full battery.

 As a party of adventurers formed, intent on heading to a dangerous area to mine for rare items, a notification popped up in the corner of his vision.

 Someone was at the door.

 His first instinct was to ignore it, not wanting to give up his queue in the party, but his door-cam continued to detect someone standing there.

 “AFK”  He said.  

 It was a phase everyone knew, although he didn’t know where it came from.  An older player once explained it was an antiquated term for ‘Away From Keyboard’, but Brian didn’t know what one was.  He had never even seen one in real life and wasn’t sure of their purpose.  The older player tried to explain it, but only confused everyone as the concept made no sense.  Typing?  What was that?  A type of what?  Keys?  Like access cards?  What would such a device look like, a board of access cards?  An access card could hold a billion keys.  Why would you need a board of them?

 Brian stepped back into the tavern area and opened a sub-window linked to his door video.

 Her azure eyes were sharp and cutting, as keen as her high cheek bones.  Her sculpted arched brows gave her a perpetual curious look.  She had an aquiline nose, but soft lips bent in a bemused smile, all framed by a cascade of vibrant scarlet hair.

 Through the door-cam her beauty was undiminished despite wearing a frumpy industrial orange jump suit.  She smiled, flashing her dimples.  “Hi, Brian.”  She said, her eyes hinting a darkness.  “Can we talk?”

 Her beauty alone was enough to open any door, and Brian wanted nothing more than to unlock the pressure locks and sweep her into his warm embrace, but Brian hardened.  “I’m in a game, Kare.”  He struggled to keep his voice even.  “We’re heading out.”

 “Please, Brian?”  She patted her thighs to show her orange suit.  “Look, you have every right to be mad.”

 “I’m not mad, Kare.  Just…”

 “I’m in a bad way, and…”  Her eyes dimmed and pleaded, and easily peeled back his resistances.  “Please, just five minutes, okay?”

 Brian struggled under his crumbling will.  “What do you want?”

 She kept her act up, a lone waif in the wild.  “Please, Brian.  Not in the hallway.”  She glanced around looking exposed, then back to the camera.  “I don’t have a mask… and the sun is going down.”

 He grimaced as the verbal punch to his gut landed solidly.  Even with the building’s air filters, at night the toxic air thickened and would scar the lungs of anyone without a mask.  

 He knew the game she was playing; her timing perfect.  She could have called or messaged, but she came to his door at sunset with no mask knowing that no matter how badly she had screwed him over before, he would not refuse her.

 “Gimme a second.”  He mumbled, then brought back the game.  “Sorry, guys.  Got to go.”

 “Want us to wait?”  Rangel the Ranger asked.  “We need a good tank for the Herlands.”  Her avatar made a flirtatious butt slap.

 “Sorry.  Get one from the queue.  GTG.”

 “Hey!”  She pressed.  “Maybe log in later and you and I can…”  Her avatar made a risqué ring with the fingers of one hand, then poked the ring with the other.

 “Yeah, I’m in.”

 Rangel sent a winking smiley face as he logged out.

 He took off his sensi-crown and sighed.  “Door, open.”  He commanded.

 An invisible voice responded:  “It is sunset, and the room will need to be depressurized.  Cost for unscheduled electric use will be .05 credits.  Do you accept the cost?”

 “Yeah.”  He said dismally, as he rose to his feet.

 As the room pressure changed, he swallowed to unblock the popping in his ears.

 Karen swept in, her aura almost blinding in the dim room.  “Brian!  Thank you!”  She held her arms wide to hug him, but paused and reigned her emotions in.  “Sorry.”

 “Door, close.”  Brian commanded.  “Light fifty percent, please.”  He called, and the lights rose in the room.  As the room repressurized, he looked her over.

 Karen was a state.  Her usual glossy makeup and style were gone.  Her cheeks were reddened from stress, or crying.  She didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she let them hang limply at her sides.

 His glare was unmoving.  “What do you want, Kare?”

 She struggled with different expressions before throwing up her hands in surrender.  “I’m meat!”  She declared.  “I reported to the Abattoir this morning.”

 Brian’s head knuckled back in shock and surprise as he stammered confusedly.  “What?”  He finally managed to say.

 “I know!  Plot twist!”  She tried to laugh, but it sounded like a hissing steam pipe.  She looked around.  “Can we sit?” 

 He sheepishly gestured to his couch-bed, the only furniture in the room.

 She picked up his sensi-crown as she took her place on the couch.  “Are these as awesome as they say?”  She looked at him with lidded eyes.  “Can you actually have, you know…”

 Brian bristled.  “What do you mean, you’re meat?”

 She nodded submissively.  “Yeah, that,”  She pointed to her nether.  “tagged, numbered, and graded.”  She looked up.  “They say they use a little numbing cream when they pierce your labia.”  She laughed breathlessly.  “Very little, hurts like fuck.”  She set the sensi-crown on her lap.  “I’m not a human being anymore.  I’m just a primary protein source.”  She looked up, pretending to be brave.  “So, how was your day?”  She said in a half attempt to be casual.

 Brian looked around as the memories of all of Karen’s past shenanigans flared up.  He dismissed them with a wave but they lingered like ghosts.  “Kare, is this about…”

 “No!”  She put in quickly, her face sincere.  “It’s not about anything.”

 He faced her.  “Karen, I swear, if this is…”

 “It’s not a scam.”  She said quickly, rising up.  “Here, see for yourself.”  She pulled down the zipper of her jumpsuit and exposed herself.  She flicked the tiny silver tag hanging from a ring pierced through her labia.  “There it is.  You can check the number if you like.”  Her voice was flat, but clear.  “I’m meat.”  

 She stood there, her creamy flesh like a pale stripe through the orange gap.  “No scam.  Tomorrow I will be ushered down a hallway that ends in a yoke.  I will lean forward and rest my neck on the lunette, and the yoke will clamp around my neck so I can’t move my head.”  She pointed to her temple.  “Air-hammer, ptchow!  Done.” 

 Her lips scrunched up as she fought back a tear.  “Then that’s it.  I don’t die right away, to ensure freshness, but my brains will be soup.  They say I will be unaware of anything.  I will be processed and… I donno, processed.”  She regarded him.  “Because I self reported I’m allowed to get my affairs in order.”  She sat back down.  “So here I am.”

 Brian paced back and forth in the tiny room, trying to work out what was happening.  He finally stopped and picked up his beer.  He set it to his lips, but didn’t drink as he continued to wrestle with what she had said.  He finally looked at her.  “Do you want a beer?”

 “Can’t.”  She sighed.  “I’m meat.”

 He blinked, as the realization caught up.  “How can this happen?”

 She motioned.  “Do you want to sit?”

 A hint of anger flared in his eyes.  “I’ll sit on my couch, in my apartment, when I’m ready.”  His voice was calm and level.  “Explain to me Karen, how you are meat.”

 “Yeah, about that.”  She set the sensi-crown aside.  “So, Tony…”

 “The man you left me for.”  He reminded.

 “Yes,”  She said carefully.  “the man I left you for.”  She frowned.  “The man I gave up happiness for.  The man who made me meat.”  She explained, then looked up.  “Please, Brian.”  She patted the couch.  “This is hard enough without you standing there staring at me.”

 He waggled his finger at her.  “You are not going to make this my fault!”  He took a pull of his beer, instantly regretting it.

 “No, this one is on me.”  She said quietly.  “All me.”  She went on.  “I didn’t love him.”  She admitted.  “I went with Tony because he was just a non-stop party,”  She shrugged.  “and wild in bed.  I wasn’t ready to be the loyal wife, and I betrayed the one man who loved me,”  Her eyes flickered up, then looked down defeatedly.  “who I hope someday will find someone who would appreciate that love.”

 Brian took a sharp breath.  “What is this?”  He challenged.

 She looked up, her eyes hard.  “I’m meat, Brian!”  She struggled to reel back her emotions.  “There’s no coming back from that.  Yes, you should be suspicious because I have pulled a lot of shit in the past and fucked you over several times.  I am sorry!  I regret that on many levels.”  She fingered her tag.  “More than you can imagine.”

 He took a pull of his beer and struggled to hide his grimace.  “Okay.”  He said.

 She accepted that with a slight nod, then pressed.  “If you hate that beer so much, why drink it?”

 “Because it is better than no beer.”  He replied, thinking.  “You still haven’t explained how you’re meat.”

 “Tony.”  She said simply, as if it was an answer.  “He is a non-stop party in everything he does.  Non-stop honeymoon, non-stop sex, non-stop excitement, and non-stop risk taking.”  Her lips tightened.  “He met an investor on-line.  They made some money.  Tony invested more, they made more money.  Tony invested even more, market crash, lost it all.  Fun while it lasted, we learn from our mistakes, right?  That’s not how Tony worked.  More investment, more losses,”  She looked away.  “and I was right there with him.  I fell for the non-stop party lifestyle.  Big wins, big loses.  I couldn’t get enough.”

 Karen sighed.  “When he said he was taking a loan to fund another investment, I didn’t flinch.  I didn’t protest.  When he lost that and said he was taking a bigger loan to pay off the first loan, I thought about putting on the brakes, but all I said to check him was to say, ‘are you sure?’”  She scoffed with breathless laugh.  “Well, he had already done it, and the pay out would be fucking huge.  When he lost that, I threatened to divorce him, but we were in too deep.  Double or nothing, let it ride.”  She looked up, her blue eyes flickering.  “Another loan, another loss, but the rage sex was killer.”

 She waved her hands, presenting herself.  “So yesterday I got the notice to report to the Abattoir.  Our debt was too great to be paid off in one lifetime.  So, we did the only logical thing.  We ran.”

 Karen laughed.  “It was thrilling for the first couple hours, and the sex was a fucking blast, but I knew it was over.”  She pulled her jumpsuit closed and zipped it up.  “Tony is still running.”  She admitted.  “Run where?  He can’t get out of the plaza.  Our travel passes have been revoked.”  Karen looked up, taking a cleansing breath.  “He’ll be caught, and processed.  Just like me.”

 Brian noticeably sagged as his energy waned.  “I’m sorry to hear that.”  He motioned with his beer as he looked to the door.  “Kare, look… for what it’s worth, we’re good.  Okay?  We’re good.”  He pointed with his chin.  “I have a disposable resi-mask you can have.  It should last until you get back to the Abattoir.”

 “yeah, about that…”  She looked dubious.  

 Brian visibly flinched.  “What?”

 Karen put her hands up.  “You have every right to say no.  I really have no right to ask you.”

 “What the fuck?”  Brian growled.

 “Please!  Hear me out!  I’m begging you!”  She said quickly.  “I’m asking as a…” she searched for the words, “person you once had feelings for.”  Brian didn’t try to hide his suspicion, but Karen pressed on.  “Nothing illegal!  I swear!”

 He pointed to the door.  “Get out!  Take a resi-mask from the drawer!”  He then called over head.  “Room, open the door!”

 “It is past sunset…”  The room cautioned.

 Karen launched up quickly.  “Buy my meat, Brian!”

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Copyrighted, 7/2026 all rights reserved.  No parts of this story may be reproduced in any format, or used in AI in any way.

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Upon the Iessia

By DX

Copyrighted 9/2025, all rights reserved.

 The dawn’s gentle light peeked through the thin gap in the shuttered curtains and caressed Corinna’s face, slowly, easily rousing her from her deep slumber.  She woke with a stretching yawn and a smile, before she blearily blinked her fawn pale blue eyes open.  She was hungry, and there was fruit in a bowl on the table, but she knew not to eat.

 Not today.

 The sun’s light flared gold and cast a sharp line across her naked body.  She sighed as she scrutinized her old stretch marks, but brightened when she hefted her huge, lovely breasts, and the beads of milk budding from her nipples.

 She glanced down at Tesia still sleeping.  Ordinarily, Tesia would be milking her mistress, and feeding her, and licking her for a lovely morning orgasm, but not today.

 Instead, Corinna reached over and picked up the milking device, wound its clockworks, and attached the brass cups to her swollen teats to let it do its wonderful work.  She reclined in her pillows, and sighed easily at the soft pull of the machine.

 Hearing the ticking of the milking machine, Tesia woke with a start.  “Oh, my goddess!”  She said, blinking her sleep swollen eyes.  “Mistress!  You’re awake!”

 Corinna smiled warmly.  “I am no longer your mistress.”  She said gently.  

 Tesia hazel eyes flashed in the dawning sunlight.  “You will always be my mistress.”  She glanced at the bowl of fruit on the table, and a hint of sadness pulled at her eyes, but she only smiled happily, then naughtily.  She eyed Corinna.  “If you are not my mistress, then you cannot command me to not do this.”  She smiled wickedly and gripped Corinna’s knees and pulled them apart, exposing her.  With a hungry grin she lay between Corinna’s thighs and kissed the blossoming mons.

 Corinna moaned in quick ecstasy as Tesia soft, puffy lips surrounded and sucked at her core.  She felt waves of joy and sensation fan through her, driving her heart to the quick.  Her skin prickled as Tesia’s hot wet tongue touched and prodded her swelling button.  As the milking machine pulled at her tweaking nipples, and Tesia pulled at her queenly crown, Corinna thought she was being pulled apart.  She felt the familiar rumble, low and inaudible, build deep in her body.  It spread like embers in the hearth, warm and glowing, and they consumed her, stoking her to flame.  She cried out as her body trembled and her muscles refused to obey.  

 The sun crest on the horizon, and cast light into the valley.

 Angelica burst into the room wearing her tunic and her royal toga.  She scanned the room with a hard glare, but when she saw the spectacle of Corinna and Tesia, she smiled, and swept to Corinna’s side.  

 She laid her lips over Corinna’s open mouth.  As her tongue pushed in and fought with Corinna’s, she felt Corinna’s unbridled orgasmic scream.

 Tesia and Angelica held Corinna down as another wave crashed over her.  As it began to subside, Corinna tried to shut off the milking machine with numb hands, but failed to find the switch.

 Casually, mercifully, Angelica turned it off, then removed the brass cups from Corinna’s swollen nipples without spilling a drop of precious cream.  “Good morning, mistress.”  She said.  “Shall I have Tesia whipped for her impertinence, or her precociousness?”

 Tesia wiped the shine from her face with the back of her hand.  “Presumptuousness.”  Tesia said, her brow cocked in challenge.

 “Neither,”  Corinna struggled to speak as she sat up.  “I am not her mistress.”  Her pale eyes looked up.  “As I am not your mistress.”

 Angelica jutted her with chin, almost sniffing in contempt.  “You will always be my mistress.”  Her lips folded as she smiled and took Corinna’s hand.  She kissed Corinna’s hand warmly before she spoke.  “Since you are not my mistress, then I can ask…”

 “I beg you not.”  Corinna spoke quickly.  “For you are now the mistress, and asking such is beneath you.”

 “Then I shall ask!”  Tesia intruded, as an errant tear creased her eye.

 Corinna’s cold eyes were bright in the sunlight.  “It is not your place, my dear, sweet Tesia.”  Corinna softened, and leaned forward and kissed the young woman’s cheek.  “Let me taste of the diamonds falling from your eyes.  By happy, for I am happy.  Let me dine on happiness.”

 Tesia nodded, sniffling.  “I am happy mistress.”  She said with a quivering voice.

 Angelica failed to stifle her sob, but Corinna ignored it, and instead, climbed out of bed.  She opened the shutters and let the full light of the bright sun bathe her naked body.  She turned slowly, letting the god Apollo see her completely.  With her eyes closed she smiled as she breathed in the chilling morning air.  She then reached over a took a leash from the wall and looped it around her neck.  She held out the bitter end to Tesia.  “I have a dinner engagement.  Indulge me one last time and see me there?”


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Copyrighted 9/2025, all rights reserved.
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Happy to be Their Dinner

By DX

Copyrighted 1996, 4/2025, all rights reserved.

Alice struggled to free a nostril from the soft padded floor so she could breathe, then waited patiently for Broome Hilda to take her knee out of her back.  Alice fought the instinct to fight, to rebel, she knew it was useless at this point and Broome Hilda had no qualms about sitting on her all day.

 Alice forced herself to relax and release the stiffness in her body to send the signal to Broome Hilda that she was done with her precursory resistance. She merely chewed on the gag stuffed in her mouth instead.

 Broome Hilda snorted as she wiped the perspiration from her brow and climbed off of Alice, before checking the buckles and straps on the straight jacket and cinching them tight. She was beginning to enjoy her little morning workout with Alice, bringing her back to her days of pro-wrestling and keeping her in that fighting shape. Alice gave her customary twitches of resistance as Broome Hilda strapped her into the wheel chair, but for the most part, this morning's wrestle was over.

 Broome Hilda gripped Alice's jaw firmly, and held her head steady, so she could adjust the straps holding Alice's gag in place. The heavy orderly ran her fat fingers gently, almost caressingly over the heavy leather face plate to insure it covered Alice's lower face properly. Alice was a fighter and a big pain in the ass, but her tiny, button nose and wide, expressive eyes made her irresistibly cute regardless of what expression of defiance she wore. Broome Hilda lightly brushed the tussled hair from Alice's face as she tried to catch a glimpse of her sapphire blue eyes, but the girl wretched angrily from her grip.

 "We have a special treat for you." Broome Hilda spoke as she pushed the wheel chair. "Today you meet your new doctor.” Alice moaned inwardly and started tugging on the straps that held her feet to the chair. She didn't want another doctor poking about in her brain. After all of their radical experiments, pet theories, and bizarre cocktails of drugs, they all came to the same conclusion.

 Alice was incurable.

 As Broome Hilda wheeled her down the hall, Alice could no longer smell the acrid stench of urine that soaked deep in the walls, barely covered by antiseptic. She no longer noticed the mindless wretches wandering the halls, mumbling to themselves.

 She could almost tolerate the orderlies kicking them around, molesting them in the showers.

 It was the sounds that got to her. The lonely, wailing cry of the insane that drove Alice out of her wits. Why couldn’t they just leave us alone?

 Alice squinted as Broome Hilda turned her chair into the office and the bright, early morning light from the unshaded windows streamed in. Alice could see a silhouette of a desk and a figure sitting behind it, rising as if a lady had entered the room.

 Broome Hilda took her place by the door, and dug her latest romance novel from the pocket of her smock, and finding her place, settled in for a lengthy session.

 "Nurse?" The doctor spoke. "If you would, please wait outside." He had a kind, but firm voice.

 Broome Hilda looked up, a little bewildered. "Of course doctor, but procedures with this client state..."

 “I understand those procedures. Alice and I will have a little talk and the session should be over in about fifteen minutes or so." The doctor's voice rang of a man who was accustomed to getting his way.

 Broome Hilda nodded, cast a side look at Alice, and stepped out, closing the door behind her.

 Alice's attention was caught be the sound of the shades being pulled. She watched the doctor walk from behind his desk.

 He was a handsome man of fifty or so with steady brown eyes. He leaned back on his desk, and opened a manila folder casually in his hands. "You've been in and out of here for quite some time, Alice."

 Alice rolled her eyes. She had heard this welcoming speech from countless doctors, countless times and this seemed to be no different. 

 The doctor ignored her expression of displeasure and went on. "Your first attempt was with pills, your second, slashed your arms from forearm to palm." The doctor looked up.  "They nearly lost you that time."

 Alice looked up. This was new. Doctors never brought up the past in the opening speech. This was a trick of some sort. A new technique.

 "Drew a gun on a cop. If his hadn't misfired, he might have just shot you instead of wrestling you to the ground." The doctor flipped a page. "Drank drain cleaner; must have done wonders for your singing voice." The doctor looked up to see the affect of his joke and Alice stared back at him, gagged silent and glaring.

 If she could speak, her voice was coarse and graveled.

 The doctor looked back to his file. "A whole host of other attempts, saved only by bum luck. Your last attempt, you leapt off a thirty-two story building while wearing your mother's wedding dress. The train of the gown snagged on the widow washer's gaff on the thirty-first floor and you dangled from the side of the building, unable to free your self. However, while the fire department mobilized to rescue you, you attempted to hang your self with the train.”

 Inwardly, Alice smiled to herself. She had forgotten the part about trying to hang herself. If the firefighter had not been connected to a safety line when he cut her free, they both would have plummeted to the pavement when she kicked off unexpectedly. Instead, the two dangled from the side of the building. He clutched her with a grip of death as she wreathed and scuffled to break free.

 The doctor closed her file. "I will be honest with you Alice. I don't think there is anything we can do for you."

 Alice eyed him carefully. It was a trick.

 "You've seen a convention of doctors, had a pharmacy of drugs, and been and out of the worst sanitariums in this country.  I would be a fool to believe that I had the magical cure for you." His steady brown eyes settled on her startled face. "You have a death wish." He said opening the folder and looking at the last page.  "And I don't think that increasing the voltage on your shock therapy is going to cure that."

 He looked at her carefully. "What I am about to tell you is illegal. If you tell anyone I spoke to you about this, I will deny it and no one will believe you. I know of a group who would make your life mean something, at least for a few hours, maybe more. A few fiery moments, a bit of pain, and a lasting memory.  You will have your wish."

 Alice could not believe her ears. Was he serious?

 The doctor moved beside her, sliding up a chair. "There is a society," He whispered. "Who have a unique taste in culinary fineries." He moved the hair from her face, exposing the burn scar from were electricity had been forced through her brain. “A group of Nouveau Cannibals and they would enjoy the sweet, succulent taste of a young, beautiful body such as yours. 

 “I have seen girls, decked out and dressed on the spit, rotating over a low fire, glistening with juices and seasonings, having orgasm after orgasm, watched intently by their hungry audience, until they finally drift off. Then they are consumed with culinary master skill and savory passion, to reside, albeit briefly, in swollen, happy bellies." 

 The doctor looked at Alice carefully, insuring that his words penetrated her. "I want you to think about it, Alice. I want you to think about putting a little meaning to your life, even if, for a little while. About giving pleasures to others. Giving the ultimate and final gift: yourself, to an appreciative crowd." He smiled gently, then rose and opened the door. As Broome Hilda lumbered in to wheel Alice out of the room, he smiled tenderly. "Our next session is in two days, Alice.” 

 Alice was limp in Broome Hilda's arms as she was lifted out of the chair and laid on the floor. Alice rolled over to her stomach to allow Broome Hilda easy access to the ring at the back of her collar.

 Broome Hilda was taken back by the lack of resistance as she shackled Alice to the wall. She looked at her carefully as she left the cell.

 Alice sat up and leaned against the wall, feeling the chain in her back, thinking about what the doctor had said. Doctors would lie to you if they thought it would do something. She had to take everything they said with a grain of salt. But if this was a trick she had never seen the likes of it before.

 Alice thought about being eaten, and the thought shot through her with excitement. She didn't want to believe the doctor, yet she had already conceded herself to the flames. Her only reluctance was  she would not be able to watch the diners smacking their lips and hear their sounds of pleasure as they dinned on her succulent meat. She closed her eyes and she could see them tucking in to their meals, smiling, absorbing her nutrients, filling their bodies with her aura, her spirit.

 Alice was startled by a warmth filling her body and she felt an unfamiliar wetness between her thighs. Because of the loads of drugs they had her on, she was unaccustomed to sex or desire. Suddenly, the idea of being eaten was charging her in a way she never imagined. Savory mouths licking her, biting her with stinging pain, feeling herself melt within in them. Being in them.

 She twisted her hips and tensed on her strait jacket, pulling the strap into her clit and she found a sexual spark as she did. She rolled over to her side, and masturbated with fury, wondering how she had never discovered this before. Her teeth clenched tightly into her gag as she came.

 She surprised Broome Hilda as she ate all of her dinner. She was thin, horribly thin from not eating and trying to starve herself, but now she wanted to put some meat on her bones to be the most succulent meal the group ever had.

 She stood under the shower head, her hands cuffed behind her, and felt the hot water roll over her, and she only wished it was butter.

 She pretended she was to be boiled alive and the thought drove her wild with passion. She looked over to Broome Hilda, and saw her with a new light. The orderly was a tall, curvaceous woman with expansive breasts, a girdled waist and a callipygous bottom. She had thick, smooth lips that when she wasn’t frowning, which was almost always, looked very inviting and kissable.

 Broome Hilda was suspicious of Alice's lack of resistance as she dried the girl off. Alice only batted her sweet blue eyes and tilted her head coyishly. As they stepped from the shower floor, Alice dropped to her knees. Broome Hilda expected this sort of behavior and went to haul the girl back up, but paused as Alice nuzzled her crotch, then looked at her with bedroom eyes.

 Alice wasn't much for talking as it hurt her burned throat.  She only smiled gently and nuzzled Broome Hilda's crotch again.

 She watched the big woman's face of confusion and mistrust melt into cautious apprehension. Alice rose when the woman touched her shoulder, then closed her eyes when the woman kissed her.

 Alice was surprised at the softness of the her lips and the passion of her kiss.

 Broome Hilda suddenly was inflamed by a fantasy coming true.

 She broke the kiss long enough to check the hall. It was empty, cleared for Alice's shower time because of the psycho girl's past explosive behavior.

 Broome Hilda went back to her kiss, catching Alice in mid-gasp. Alice shoved her tongue into Broome Hilda's mouth and the big woman sucked on it hungrily. Alice quivered with excitement as she thought of Broome Hilda biting her tongue off and swallowing it. 

 Alice tried to push it in deeper.

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Copyrighted 1996, 4/2025, all rights reserved.
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