By Geoffrey Merrick
( Illustations by Agnès )
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Michelle
lost consciousness after the man had slowly lowered her onto his lap’s
erection, gripped both her tits with one hand, and clamped her head back on
his shoulder by her mouth.
She dreamed an alien creature from outer space had trapped her in the cellar
of her home, ramming a thick,slimy tentacle deep into her mouth to keep her
from crying out to her family for help, then spewing noxious glue to lock
her arms to her side.
Then two more tentacles tore open her school uniform shirt, pulled down her simple white bra, and suctioned onto her breasts, needles sinking into her nipples. Then, finally, a pulsating tentacle snaked under her pleated, plaid skirt and into her plain white panties....
Then all the tentacles began to throb, oozing thick liquid into her, and sucking
her essence from her. The mouth tentacle pushed down her throat. The suction
at her breasts distended her tits while the needles in her nipples sank deeper,
sucking out her milk.
And the knobbed tentacle
in her panties pushed deeper inside her, scraping her clitoris, stimulating
her vagina, sucking up her juices.
The tentacles and needle pushed, stabbed, and thrust until they all met in
her exploding heart....
She
woke up slowly to find her mind still wrapped in gauze from the sedative soaking
the nose plugs. Even so, she was amazed by what she saw. This was not a mansion
in the countryside, miles away from any neighbor. They
were pulling across the sidewalk to a garage of a townhouse in the middle
of a city.
The garage door rose automatically and Michelle had just a moment to see the
activity of pedestrians and
other vehicles before the garage door sealed her in a simple, deep, cement
garage, empty save for their single sedan.
“Come along, my dear,” she heard someone say. Almost unable to
resist, Michelle stepped out of the car, amazed by the dainty, silver strapped,
high heel stiletto that balanced on the cold concrete floor.
Then, as she was guided and straightened, she both felt and saw how her breasts
were gathered, balled, squeezed and presented by the seamless, deep v, plunging,
hot ruby-pink, contoured lycra spandex lace bra, and her loins just barely
covered by the high-cut thong brief which held onto her hip bones for dear
life.
Her elbows
and wrists were cinched behind her with matching straps, and the daintiest
of silver ankle bracelets hobbled her legs with a tinkling, two-foot length
of chain. In her mouth was the ball, and once again the sides of her lips
were glued.
They only took a moment to pull her head back with her hair, moisten her inner
nostrils with a surgical thinner on a q-tip, then remove the nose plugs with
a pair of tweezers. Still slaving under the sedative’s influence, they
left the drying plugs on the garage floor and drew Michelle to a single door
to the side.
Opening it, Michelle was led into a small, plain chamber. Opening the next
door, she was led into a simple, square waiting room. Bringing her to one
of the three doors behind the single, empty desk there, she was standing in
yet another closet-sized vestibule.
But behind that door was a padded red leather door, and behind that, another world.
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