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From: Vivian Darkbloom <vdkblm-OBLITERATE-SPAM!@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Journey to Sxtlan - Synapse FUNf (purple, ped) psst-- more sex in this chapter!
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Date: Thu, 16 Aug 2007 08:10:02 -0400
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  WARNING !! XXX DANGER XXX !! HAZARD !! XXX WARNING !!

  This document is intended for the perusal of mature
  readers ONLY.  Those lacking in literary competence may
  find themselves in the disturbing situation of needing to
  reach for a dictionary, or (heaven forbid) a thesaurus.
  If you do not know what a thesaurus is, please inquire of
  your local neighborhood girl scout.

  If you have never read H.P.Lovecraft, you will find
  yourself a bit lost at first, but don't worry: sex will
  ensue shortly.


  To more fully enjoy this story in living, breathing HTML,
  please visit our website at:
 
    http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/vivian/www

  Now offering over 180,000 words of pure prurience!

  --------------------------------------------------------


 

                            Journey to Sxtlan

                          by Vivian Darkbloom

   As I peered into the gloom of the room, the darkness had ever so
   much of a dark quality to it, as shadowy as a shadow,
   impenetrable as the very core nature of impenetrability itself!
   Totally. Indescribably, the mushrooms filled the seeming void
   with all kinds of infranatural splendor ordinarily imperceivable
   by the average person unilluminated by psychotropic extrasensory
   enhancement, as snakes and molecules squirmed and collided,
   bouncing dots and squiggles perpetually dancing across the depth
   of nothingness. All were connected in a profound, iridescent
   manner to the complete ebony spectrum of nonillumination, plumes
   of paperback quills in ropelike tendrils of sticky spiderwebs,
   interwoven with serpent glow as the brightly colored reptiles of
   red and green paraded in parallel wavy lines across and through
   all objects in the nearby vicinity.

   It was at this particular point that I was really glad I had been
   gifted with the foresight to take the mushrooms, because
   otherwise I would have completely missed all of the vitally
   significant signs of the merging of universes. The spirit
   creatures would have gone by completely unnoticed, their splendor
   shining forth in vain, had I joined the mass of ignorant humans
   in their fastidiously obsessive clinging to ordinary "reality,"
   to normity, conformity and all the square boxlike limitations
   that pass for reason in the narrow-minded social reasoning that
   suffocates all creativity.

   Then, faintly in the gloom, a something. The multicolored snakes,
   like seaweed in the current, formed around a contour that looked
   somehow oddly familiar. A shape of a small thigh, naked from
   behind, sidewise, turning. Indeed, a buttock, slender and pale.
   Like neon lines, the serpents twined in patterns twisting wildly,
   yet subtle, easily missed by the naked eye.

   But alas, it was more than my eye that was naked. Indeed, as my
   eyes opened to swallow in the mysterious ribald reptilian energy
   of the darkness, I could see that there was a whole entire naked
   body, lying face down on a cushioned surface before me. And not
   the body of our infamous Sherry, for this corpus en vivacious
   videssence was too small, too timid, too petite and early in
   formation.

   "So, you dare venture into our domain!?" The soft, sultry voice
   startled me from behind. I whirled to see the bulk of our harsh
   mistress en regalia, dark eyeliner echoing the black
   crosshatching of fishnet stockings, black eyelashes and also the
   black lashes of her quirt as she witheld it backwardly before
   her, cocked back and ready for the blow.

   Sharp intake of breath.

   "Um, yes," I gulped.

   "And what, pray tell, brings you so foolishly into my clutches,
   my pretty? Come on, spit it out!"

   "I, um. It's complicated. See the guys were expecting -- our
   usual guy for procuring, um, you know. Out of town, and it's
   totally dry. All out, what with the weekend around the corner, it
   was my turn to, um, you know, procure the -- well, that of which
   I am speaking."

   She slithered towards me, tongue devilishly flicking, licking her
   lips. Soon she had me pressed up against a wall, immobilized by
   the heavy cushioning of her large breasts implanted into my
   chest, her thighs astride mine, pushing close. I smelled the hint
   of spearmint mingled with marijuana on her breath as she leaned
   her face close to mine accusingly.

   "You're trying to buy drugs, aren't you?" As she spoke, she had
   an irritating habit of twirling her quirt between my legs, so
   that it tickled ever so slightly.

   "Hey -- I don't do drugs," I said. "I already told you." I made
   the mistake of looking down, into her cleavage. I felt like a
   mountain climber who had accidentally glimpsed the terror of a
   dizzying gorge below him. Gorgeous it was, the abyss between the
   soft round hillocks that had me squished up against the wall.

   "You like that?" she drawled, her quirt-twirling building up a
   maddening itch, a desire to scratch the very center of my crotch,
   which activity was rendered impossible by the pressure of her
   body leaning into mine. My breath came in short gasps.

   "Well, I --"

   "Here, we can make it better," she said, somehow removing her top
   and her bra whilst keeping me still pinned. Now they lolled
   comically, her twin servants, for a moment before she recruited
   them once more into the urgent service of captivating me as her
   prisoner. Now the hardened nipples pricked me, skin sticky with
   sweat, yearning to scratch, to release, to break the flow of the
   multicolored serpents now dancing springlike as bouncing
   squiggles on all sides.

   "Now, about this bag of pot you want to score," she continued.
   "I've got ounces for thirty five dollars. Premium grade indica
   buds. Only a few left, so you had better go for it while you can.
   What do you say?"

   Red streaked lightning surges of rage exploded inside of me.
   "What? That's outrageous. It's robbery, that's what it is. Our
   usual guy only charges thirty!!"

   She shrugged. "So go buy it from him."

   "He's out of town."

   "Heck, when I'm out of town I only charge $25."

   Flusters of rage bubbled forth into my brain, flowing into the
   universe all around me, or maybe I was just mistaking the bubbles
   for the molecules that danced with the snakes. "Look, all I've
   got is thirty," I said.

   "Bit of a quandary, eh?" she said. "Here, is this more
   comfortable?"

   She let up the pressure enough that the stiffening snake between
   my legs could readjust. Then she squeezed back down, re-twirling
   the quirt, then aimlessly running the the end of it along
   maddeningly sensitive nerve endings I had never previously known
   to exist inside my inner legs.

   "Please?" I protested. "You gotta help me out. The guys'll kill
   me if I come back without any."

   "I see," she considered. "Killing's bad. Puts a damper on repeat
   business. Well, perhaps we can work out a trade."

   "Great," I exclaimed, exhaling relief, though still sweating
   under the heating-up pressure of the twin mountainous cushions
   that had me pinned.

   "You see, my young girlfriends here are in need of male sexual
   attention."

   Frighteningly, my relief fled, and panic resumed its
   electrocutional journey through my nervous system, jittering and
   jangling.

   Frantically, I made striving effort to reason with myself. I was
   well aware, the hazards of dealing with these scurrilous
   ne'er-do-wells with whom one must do business in todays corrupt
   and seedy counter culture, in the quest of procurement for
   sacramental herbs and healing shamanistic mind-opening
   substances. Yet this is a risk one takes of religious necessity,
   as the sole other alternative, namely the running short on the
   fuel of psychoactive stimulus, is simply unspeakable,
   inconceivable. How flimsy and pathetic, the overculture which
   precipitates such a dilemma, which marginalizes and pushes aside
   these voices of truth, those veritably reliable and chemical
   modes of exploration, the fathoming of that great unfathomable
   mystery within.

   Nonetheless, in that moment, I resigned myself to the necessity
   of self-sacrifice, to the suffering I must endure for the greater
   good. Bracing myself with virtuous abandon, I lifted my chin
   (brushing against the inner surface of her breast, which was ever
   rising on me as I sunk towards the floor. "What do I have to do?"
   I asked, trying to keep the panic from my speech.

   "Well then," she said, releasing me.

   Having been granted the relief of fraicheur, I drank fresh air in
   huge, cool refreshing volumes.

   She had vanished into the impenetrable darkness, which soon was
   no longer impenetrable, as she must have let down or up or
   sideways whatever dense curtain that had been blocking the
   sunlight rays from entering. Whatever was no longer the cause,
   the room was flooded with glorious bright illumination. The light
   made silent shrieking mockery of the former gloom of the room.

   "I don't know why you girls insist on reading in the dark
   anyway," I heard Sherry's voice around a corner somewhere.
   "You'll ruin your eyes."

   Now, with my exhilarating freedom, I could see the backside of
   the thigh, the slender buttock which had so subtly entered my
   consciousness previously. In the ever enlightening photons of
   illumination, it revealed itself to be the buttock of a young
   girl sprawled in the plush deep crimson cushiony quilt of a huge
   canopy bed that dominated the room, like a statuary lion.

   As discreetly as possible, I scratched between my legs.
   Unfortunately, I was so brief in my effort not to be seen that it
   left the itch only worse. Too late, for Sherry had reappeared.

   "Now hold on a minute," I said.

   "Oh, I'll hold on alright," she replied, staring at my crotch.
   "Fortunately, you've got a good solid handle to grab on to."

   "Now let's not be hasty," I began again. "How about we just sit
   down calmly and think this all through."

   The girl who had been lying face-down on the bed looked up at me.
   She must have been ten or eleven, with long dark hair and tiny
   freckles sprinkled like cinnamon over her youthful face.

   "OK," said Sherry, opening another curtain to send even more
   light streaming in. "You need drugs, you're short on cash, so we
   trade for sex. What's there to think through?"

   "Now hold on. . ." I said.

   "I already told you, I will!" she exclaimed, smiling. I saw the
   serpents circling around to bite their tails.

   "Now this sex, we trade for," I persisted. "I don't need to be
   naked, do I? Because I'm both very modest and really shy, so even
   the idea of taking off any clothes in front of a girl. My God, I
   don't know if I can do that. How about if I take off my socks,
   will that do? I'll take off my socks."

   I sat down on the floor and unlaced my shoes methodically.
   Circling serpents and quantum molecules were now only barely
   visible, ghostlike in the streaming sunlight. The girl on the bed
   watched, curiously. As I had observed before, she bore nary a
   stitch of vestment about her person, as she lay calmly upon the
   plush deep-red quilt.

   "Kalisha," said Sherry softly to the girl on the bed, "Maybe you
   can help the gentleman take off his shoes."

   With an amused smile, Kalisha swung around, and before I knew it,
   her full naked body was right in front of me, thin, translucent
   pale in the glorious sun. I felt the pull of her fingers on my
   shoelaces, an odd tingle of intimacy. Worried about how I would
   conceal my worsening hard-on from this poor innocent, without
   realizing it, I was staring straight at the smooth folds of her
   sweet secret place. She farted quietly, and smiled. The young
   musky scent of her vertical channel overtook me.

   My left shoe came off in her hands. She was squatting, leaning
   between her widespread upward-pointing knees, now working on the
   other one. My mind had halted, melting into a fused mush,
   funneled down to the single point of the muffled sensation I felt
   from her transmitted touch. There was a delicious elegance to the
   careless way she undid the laces. Their quiet slapping against
   the side of my shoes sent a tingle down my spine.

   Off came the right shoe, and soon after the sock with it. My feet
   were now naked before her. She gave an evil grin, glancing
   furtively around at Sherry. "Really? I can have him?"

   I looked up at where Sherry now sat, enthroned on a grand
   armchair, haloed by bright regal rays now pouring across the
   dancing particles. Only the shadow of her face I saw, before the
   fiery crown. Her large, stately breasts now stared outward,
   keeping watch on either side.

   It was then that I saw the other girl, a redhead of about the
   same age as Kalisha, sitting statuesquely on the carpet at
   Sherry's side. Only, unlike Kalisha, she was fully clothed.

   Sherry mused, quirt across her knees like a sceptre. "My child,
   this will be your test. He is yours to conquer, if you are up to
   the task. Ceridwen and I shall observe, noting carefully the
   strengths and weaknesses of your performance. Shan't we,
   Ceridwen?"

   The young redhead merely nodded.

   Kalisha turned back to me, baring her fangs as would a wolf or
   piranha, with the delight of a predator already certain of the
   outcome, but who has tarried solely to tease and make sport with
   the fated prey.

   I shrunk back, against the wall, folding my arms and legs against
   the impending fusillade. Deftly, she followed every move,
   shadowing my motions with her own. I felt warm, soft skin against
   mine.

   I whimpered, helplessly. "What about my girlfriend?"

   "She can come along and play," taunted the cinnamon-freckled
   Kalisha, licking her chops. "I like girls too, don't I Ceridwen?"

   The redhead at Sherry's side nodded, vigorously.

   "What girlfriend?" inquired Sherry.

   "Well, not girlfriend, exactly. My spirit guide, sometimes
   manifesting as a hummingbird, whom I encountered on a shamanic
   dream quest where we met on a separate plane of reality, as the
   spirit realm is merging more rapidly now with our mundane, but
   only those with the spiritual eyes of hallucinogenic power plants
   are equipped to receive the bounty."

   Sherry nodded. "Deep." Her breasts both indicated their agreement
   by nodding subtly in harmony. Titular heads.

   While the nefarious mistress had been busily distracting my
   intellect, Kalisha sensed the opportunity, and dove towards my
   painfully restrained cobra of penetrating knowledge, unwillingly
   coiled and ready to strike. To be struck was her sole goal, and
   in my fumbling weakness I soon found myself out-wrestled,
   unbuckled and unbuttoned, unzipped and slipped asunder, revealing
   what was under, though still shrouded thinly throbbing with the
   pulse of ache and yearning, burning arrows of desire. My legs now
   bare, her soft cinnamon-freckled face between them, nosing the
   nose of the cobra, making friends.

   Shamelessly, she reached down to favor an itch at the upper end
   of her smooth folds, tensing briefly, with a glottal brace,
   witholding her breathing, then with a quiet "Uh," she grabbed at
   my final elastic.

   But this time I was ready for her. I held on tight, and my poor
   flimsy garment was soon in knots. The struggle lasted several
   minutes, with her giggling and tickling while I grimly fought for
   my dignity, cursing our dealer for being out of town, frantically
   trying to think up another method of requisitioning the bag of
   buds, but to no avail.

   Finally she just grabbed a mouthful right through the cloth!
   Getting icky slobber all over my nice clean underpants. I made a
   mental note that they would need to be laundered as soon as I
   returned home. My fatal error was, that I tried to grab her head
   in order to draw her off, but the moment I released the elastic
   in order to do so, she had it down my legs, and in a flash I felt
   her tongue slyly slithering across the nerve endings of
   electricity, sending galvanic blasts in searing waves rippling
   throughout my entire body, my hands unwittingly caressing the
   soft long dark locks as she bobbed up and down in sinister
   syncopation.

   I heard applause over from the regal corner from which the sun
   shone in.

   At this point, I must confess that my sense of reason may have
   become somewhat distorted. Alas, this precocious libertine had so
   deftly succeeded in distracting me from the purity of my quest,
   extricating the virtuous pillars of my psyche to the point in
   which I not only ceased to resist her dreadworthy incantations,
   but even to desire further commingling with her dastardly design!

   "But," I protested. "You're so young!"

   Giggling and peals of gaiety were the sole reply. It was then
   that I noticed I had crossed over, that rather than being
   repulsed by the sexuality emanating from such a youthful body, I
   found myself intrigued and entranced by it. The pulsing urges
   crinkled, expanding in her white palms. I watched my own
   apple-red cherry as her head bobbed over it, emerging and
   immersing between her lips as she sloppily slurped, gnawing on
   that exact bare root of sensitivity, nerves which, like tree
   roots penetrating the soil drove living, gripping tendrils deep
   into my psyche. The sturdiness of her grip tugged powerfully at
   the willfulness of my soul, as she levered me jauntily back and
   forth, delightedly toying with my planetary spheres, eying me
   ravenously.

   All the while, as the surges of joyful sensation swelled within
   me, every time I glimpsed her bare chest, featureless and flat,
   the longing, even the loving of her rose higher and higher in my
   throat, until I had no choice but to cry out, again and again
   with the unspoken "yes" to her touch, to her fascination, to her
   youth and sensation.

   I must have closed my eyes, or faded into a temporary dream
   state, inspired by the ecstatic touch, lying there splayed out on
   my back. For there was an interval of time missing, and I only
   know that when I regained my sensibility, it was to see her
   smooth young boyish chest right before my nose, and when I looked
   down her wee hole was closing over my kundalini, another wet
   mouth, but this time her tongue gave forth a gasp and a faint
   whimper at the tightness of the fit. I felt her warmth weighing
   down into me, met by the pressure of the soft carpet against my
   buttocks.

   Yet the cinched knotted grip of her tight noose encircling my
   enormity only gave spark to her determination, as she kissed my
   lips, with lips as soft and full as spring cherry blossoms, while
   she worked her way down my shaft, her own opening moistening and
   loosening, rocking back and forth, fore and aft, until there was
   a subtle collapse, and I found myself thrust in to the hilt.

   "Yes!" she yelled, startling me. She was clearly out of control,
   careening madly, single-mindedly, insanely obsessed with the
   pleasure she sought from my body as I felt the pull of my swollen
   shaft plunged deep in her libidinal channel, navigating the pure
   central harbor of her precious sweet love and desire as she
   frantically forced herself onto me, pushing my throbbing bundle
   of burning passion deeper and deeper into her near-virginal
   vagina.

   Seemingly forever did she pursue her urgent goal, as sweat turned
   from hints of moisture into beads and droplets dousing her face
   and hair, all the while her innocent featureless breast heaving
   and pounding. Her face glowing supernal red and blue auras
   beneath the chocolate specks of freckles, eyes closed and mouth
   widely articulating syllables of ancient gutterals, head thrown
   back, until finally that imperceptible tingle signalled the
   mighty tremble of orgasmic tremors, as unimpeded she shuddered
   again and again pressing herself harder and harder into my
   pelvis.

   The feeling of this virtuous pure sweet angel lost in such
   devilish rapture of bliss nearly pushed me over the brink, but my
   bastions of virtue were columnularly more sturdy than that, as my
   column-turned-piston continued pumping.

   Sensing the imminent issue of life-giving essence, the ancient
   sacred transfer of fluid from male to female, she widened herself
   around me, bucking and arching. "Give it to me," she whispered
   repeatedly, "Give me your stuff," she added.

   Deep within my mysterious depths, her call was answered, as
   flashes of flooding flooded flashing into the waterways, making
   swollen with rain the gushing burst forth stardust exploding the
   dammed up expressions of ancient yearnings seeding life deep
   inside her furrow, answering her wordless primal call echoing,
   coursing through inner waterways, and again and again I released
   screaming blissful drops of pleasure ramming deep into her
   channels, again and again we pressed together until it was only
   the pressing into each other that remained, and finally she
   collapsed onto me, a hot, damp rag scattering droplets of sweet
   near-virgin sweat on my body below her as together we caught our
   breath in a duet of lustful sighs.

   And another round of applause rang forth from the corner of
   sunshine nearby the window.

   "My turn!" called forth Ceridwen.

  _______________________________________________________


  For more stories, please visit our site:
    http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/vivian/www



  

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