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Subject: {ASSM} Wet Dreams (teen, lesbo, cons)
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Date: Sun, 04 Jan 2015 18:10:02 -0500
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Title: 	  Wet Dreams
Author:   MeatBot
Keywords: Teen, lesbo, cons

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/MeatBot/

A young girl leads an active dream life that she almost can't tell
from reality.

Apologies to James Thurber.

Disclaimer : 

Copyright by the author. Permission is granted to archive, repost, or
publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals, anthologies of
this type of material if unaltered and attributed to the author. This
is a work of fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity
among persons under 16 in real life.

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to reality is accidental
and would be damn surprising. Be warned that this story may involve
explicit descriptions of sexual activities, including some defined
under law as "Weird Shit". Do not read this story if you believe that
fictional characters should not have fictional sex, or if you are less
than the age of consent in your social or legal group, or if you live
under a repressive, totalitarian regime in an out-of-the-way place
such as the USA. If you like it, I did it. If you hate it, I didn't.
If it offends you, it was a misprint. If you want to sue me, I don't
exist. Sue the internet instead. Nobody's twisting your arm. Leave if
you don't like crap like this. These are just words, people. Just
words. 

Be warned, this is a goofy, infantile, poorly written, disgusting and
depraved story with bad punctuation, bad grammar, and lots of
misspelled words. I am not an English major. Deal with it. This story
is all made up. If you don't like it, read something else. Don't bitch
at me. You have been warned.

This story is graded <TAME> compared to some of the shit I've read in
this newsgroup.

This story is what happens when you have too much free time at work.





The beast paused, and sniffed the air. The air was thick with oily
black smoke. The whole city was overcast with the haze from fires that
burned here and there. He wheeled as some people ran screaming out of
a burning building. He laughed slightly, because it amused him. The
silly little worms. How easily they died. Caught between their fear of
him, or burning alive. He leapt, twice, and took a few running steps,
and was in the middle of them. He seized a man in his teeth, shaking
him like a mad dog. The man screamed, and died. The others scattered
like roaches when a light came on. He started to chase them, but he
was hungry. He sat down on his back feet, and started to munch
contentedly on the biceps of the man's upper arm.

He heard a noise behind him. What, he thought, did they meet something
worse than me? Are they coming back? As he turned, he distinctly heard
someone clear their throat. What is this shit? he thought.

He turned, and faced the newcomer. Shit, he thought, his beastly brain
racing to figure out a way to take on this new threat. And I was doing
so good, he thought. I've killed a thousand at least, in the last few
days. I might have been made a centurion when I got back to the ship
and they downloaded my brain.

But the beast knew he was fucked. Word had gotten around. There were
two things that the beast and his brothers feared, in this new world.
One was the Overlord, who, although he rarely put in an appearance,
pretty much every one feared. And the other thing. Shit. The other
thing stood right in front of him, idly slapping her sword against the
palm of her left hand.

The Virgin, he thought. Now? Here, and now? The fucking Virgin? What
did I do to deserve this? 

The Virgin had already killed over half of the beast's brothers and
sisters. She had a fearsome reputation. The beast knew that he could
never take her, in a straight fight. She was beyond fast, and her
blade sang when it tasted Shrike blood. She had killed at least one of
his family every night, for the last thirty days.

She slowly, easily began to walk towards him. The beast whined, and
limped backwards a few steps, favoring his back left paw. He shook his
head, hard, and blood splattered from his muzzle. He stumbled and fell
sideways, crying loudly. He could see her approaching from his
peripheral vision.

"Awww..." he heard her soft voice. "Poor beastie. Are you  hurt?"

He whined loudly, and sat, hard, in the street. That hurt, there was
broken glass and chunks of rock and brick scattered everywhere. He
whined again, whipping his head back and forth, and rolling his eyes.

"You are a crazy one," she said. She was holding her sword down by her
leg, now. He didn't think she looked ready to fight. He wondered if he
was fooling her. If he could just get a second's head start, he might
have a chance...

He felt a great satisfaction as he thought of being the one to kill
her. He would garner fame and fortune, if he could do it. If he could
stop the threat. He would be rich beyond imagining. Beast-rich. He
would get slaves and meat, much meat. And, he'd get the first choice
of his many sisters to mate with. No one would mate with this beast,
right now. He was a nothing, a nobody, at the moment. All that would
change, if he could kill this bitch, the Virgin.

The Virgin was less than twenty feet away. Barely a hop, he thought.
He didn't tense up for the jump, thought, he knew she'd see his
muscles move if he did. He relaxed, and lay on his side, panting and
whining.

"Poor beastie!" she said again. She really sounded sympathetic, he
thought. Just a little closer, he thought. Just come a little bit
closer, bitch.

Jump! He thought. He put every bit of strength he had into the leap,
knowing his massive weight would crush her, no matter how tough she
was. His eyes were wide open, looking for her as he fell back to the
ground. Shit, he had time to think. He hit the pavement hard, and
rolled. Shit! He hadn't landed on her, somehow. He had missed.
Blinding pain consumed his legs, his ankles, as he fell. She wasn't
where he'd thought she would be.

He tried to stand, but fell back onto the street. The backs of his
ankles burned like fire. Worse than fire. He scrabbled with his arms
on the broken street, trying to lift himself back to his feet. His
feet just wouldn't work, though. The searing pain finally gave him a
clue. He'd been hamstrung. The bitch had cut his hamstrings as he flew
past her. He roared in pain, frustration and rage. He saw a flickering
movement out of the corner of his eye, but just for a split second.
Warm fluid gushed down his cheek, spewing from his right eye. Shit.
She'd cut him again, she'd split his eye open with her bastard blade.

He knew she was somewhere on his blind side. He whipped his head
around, right into her blade. The tip of it sliced into his soft ear,
going deep inside his head. Weirdly, this one didn't hurt any. He felt
a great tiredness consume him. He wanted to just lay down in the
street and rest. Once he killed her, he could do that.

He batted out with his front paw, to where she'd have had to stand to
cut his ear. His paw slapped the pavement, though. He had felt the
slightest of contacts, though, with something. He wondered if it was
her. Damn. How did she move so fast? Something struck the back of his
wrist, hard, and he felt another searing pain. This one did hurt. He
looked down with his good eye. His paw was gone, literally. There was
just a stump there, spraying blood. Shit, he thought again. Something
kicked him hard, on the back. He began to turn. But he was going so
slow, now, he knew it would take forever to turn all the way around.
He forced himself to do it. I can rest after I kill her, he thought.

He was unconscious when she slit his throat, ear to ear. He went,
quietly, his soul departed and he died. If these things have souls,
she thought. If souls exist in the first place.

She slung her blade in a wide arc, hard, and most of the blood on it
sprayed out around her. She gave it a perfunctory examination, pleased
to see no nicks in it. She'd hit bone twice on this one, she was
getting careless. She felt a slight sting on her right forearm, and
looked at the tiny scratch. He'd gotten her, alright. If she'd been a
thousandth of a second slower, he would have cut her good. These
things had claws as hard as iron, as sharp as razors.

She heard a noise and spun, ready to kill again. A man and woman crept
through the wreckage, towards her. They looked like refugees, but you
could never be sure. Not now.

"Help us. Please," the man said. The woman was crying, staring blankly
ahead.

"You should have left the city days ago," she said, feeling sorry for
them, but irritated by their obvious stubbornness. Why did people hang
around, she thought. We knew weeks ago these bastards were coming.

"We need food. She hasn't eaten in days."

The Virgin reached into her pocket and tossed a few power bars on the
ground in front of the man. 

"You need to get the fuck out of here," she said. "Find some soldiers,
they'll show you where to go. I don't have time to take you there
myself."

"Thank you, oh, thank you," the man said, tears streaming down his
cheeks. She was disgusted at how sorry she felt for the couple. No
wonder we're losing this war, she thought. The man gathered up the
food, took the woman's arm in his, and hobbled off. The woman had
never spoken or even looked at her, the Virgin realized. She had
looked shell-shocked. The Virgin wondered what the woman had seen, to
knock her mind out like that. The people who'd stayed saw the shit,
she thought. Nothing like life even a month ago had been. How quickly
we get used to the unimaginable. She sighed, and turned back down the
street. Deeper, into enemy territory. She was hungry. She had beasts
to kill.





Charity Leann Spivey had a problem. Most teenaged kids had problems,
but she'd never heard of another kid having anything like her problem.
And her problem didn't happen at school, or during the evenings at
home with her family, like most other people's problems. Her problem
happened in the middle of the night. Charity dreamed like crazy, all
night long sometimes. She woke up tired, almost exhausted at times,
from dreaming so much. And real, her dreams were so realistic. Whacky,
but realistic. Tonight had been no exception.

And the dreams matched reality, surprisingly good, at times. This time
for instance. She'd dreamed some kind of beast thing had scratched
her, and sure enough, this morning she had a scratch on her arm.
Probably last night or even maybe during the night she'd scratched
herself on something, and her mind had incorporated that scratch into
her dream. Crazy. Totally crazy. She dressed, brushed her teeth, and
headed for school.





School was okay, dullsville at best. She had lunch with Darlene, her
best friend. She related her latest dream to her, and Darlene analyzed
it in her own peculiar fashion. 

"You were the virgin?" Darlene asked. Charity nodded.

"That was my name in the dream, yes." she replied.

"Charity. That's the key. Your subconscious is either concerned that
you need to keep your virginity, or that you need to lose it. You just
need to figure out which."

Charity snorted. She didn't have much confidence in Darlene's armchair
interpretations, but she didn't want to hurt her friend's feelings.

"And what?" Charity finally said. "You mean if I get my cherry popped,
these dreams will stop?"

It was Darlene's turn to snort. "It's probably not that simple. But
your brain is trying to tell you something. You need to be more
receptive."

"Yeah, yeah." Charity said, finishing up her burrito. She crushed the
wrapper into a ball and tossed it into the trash can, ten feet away.
Darlene's jaw dropped.

"See, see how good you are?" she said. "Didn't you have a dream last
week you were a basketball pro? You shouldn't want these dreams to
stop, they are helping you."

"Ugh, don't remind me." That one had bothered Charity. She hated the
dreams where she was a guy, and the shower scene in that one had been
pretty difficult. Eye-opening, and a little frightening. Charity had
actually spent time wondering what went on in the boy's showers in the
past, but for some reason that one bothered her. She wondered if her
subconscious thought all those rumors about basketball players were
true. It sure was in the dream.

"You are the most incredible lucid dreamer I know," said Darlene.
"Well, you are the only lucid dreamer I know. I'm so damn jealous of
you, girl." She sighed.

"I just want to get some sleep," said Charity. "Damn. Every single
fuckin' night."

"I never dream. You are lucky, girl."

"Yeah, yeah."





The starship spun in place, re-orienting itself. Lieutenant Placid
Strength turned her own ship slightly, and lined a gunsight up on an
engine cluster. She waited, almost holding her breath. She imagined
the enemy pilot flicking switches, and finally grabbing the stick. The
time just felt right. As she squeezed the trigger, she saw the enemy's
force-field falling, preparing for thrust. Bingo.

Her laser hit the engine pod just as the chambers flooded with highly
reactive fuel. The explosion was pretty intense, and the ship spun
madly off to the side, almost out of her field of vision. She felt
debris bouncing off her hull. Shit. She whipped the stick around, and
inched the throttle forward.

After a few minutes the bad guys managed to get the spin stopped, and
stabilized the craft somewhat. Placid hit them pretty hard amidships
about that time, and fired grapples into a few portholes. She winched
the two craft together, and gave the grunts in the belly a go.

Her men swarmed out, and a few demolition charges later they were
pouring into the hatch. The bastards are as good as dead, now, she
thought. This whole war had been take no prisoners, and this battle
was no different. Guessing from the size of the craft, there would
probably be two hundred, maybe two fifty crew on board. That was a lot
of killing. That would take some time.

"Ahem." said a soft voice behind her. She spun her seat, and
confronted the newcomer.

"Well, well... very heroic, lieutenant." said the woman. Placid
squirmed. This bitch. Why this mission, of all times? Why'd they have
to send an observer this time? She'd never even been told the woman's
name. Just pretend she's not there, they said. Forget her.

"Just doing my duty, ma'am," she finally said. She unbuckled, and
stood up. The other woman backed up a step.

"lieutenant," she said. "I'm sorry we seem to be on the wrong foot.
And I'm sorry if that sounded sarcastic. I shouldn't have said it like
that. I'm sorry."

"It's okay... I'm sorry too, I know I haven't been in the best of
moods the last few..."

"Lots of stress, lieutenant... this war brings out the worst in all of
us."

"Yes."

"When's the last time you went on R&R?"

"No idea. A year at least."

"That's not very reg..."

"No, I know it's not. But I do what I'm told."

The woman approached, stopping just a foot or two away. Placid smelled
her, she was so close. A hint of perfume or deodorant, and some honest
sweat. The woman was attractive, she had to admit. They guys had been
just plain nuts about her when she came onboard. She was beautiful.
They watched through the window as the last of the troopers funneled
into the hatchway.

"Now what?" the woman said.

"Now we kill a few hours while they mop up, and yank the AI cores out
of the 'puters." Placed said.

"Placid. I like you. I've already given you a completely green sheet.
This should help your career, immensely. Can you come back to my
cabin? I got a bottle of clear, we can have a sip and celebrate. I
know that's not reg..."

An hour later Placid lazily lifted her head from the woman's crotch.
They kissed, long and slow, with lots of tongue.

"Yum..." the woman said. "I taste good."

"Sure as fuck," said Placid, dropping her mouth back down to the
beautiful, aromatic cunt below her.

"How much time we got?" said the woman.

"I'd guess at least another hour..." Placid said, her voice muffled by
the woman's genitals. The woman's clit was out of this world. It was
like sucking a little boy's dick. Shit, she thought. This is turning
out way better than I thought.

"Think you can make me cum again?"

"I'd stake my life on it, darling."

"Thank you."




Charity woke, her heart pounding. She lay in the darkness, trying to
slow her breathing. Jeezus. That had been intense. A woman! she
thought, giggling. I was making it with a woman! Sometimes these
dreams were worth the trouble. That was one of those times. She'd been
cumming like crazy in her dream, she was sure she'd really cum. She
reached down, and touched her pussy. Jeezus, it was dripping, oozing.
And she just felt that warm glow, that feeling that she'd just cum.
She knew she'd cum. Why can't I have one of those every night? she
thought. That's about as much fun as I've had in a long time. And with
a woman! She giggled some more.





The next day she told Darlene a mildly edited version of the dream.
Darlene was envious, and just sat there with her mouth open. When
Charity finished, Darlene said, "Jeezus H, girl. You are too much.
Your dreams are too cool. I'm jealous, I'm really jealous."

"Well, they're not always that good..."

"Damn. You made it with a woman. That is too cool."

Charity giggled. Darlene had confided in her several times that she
thought she might be gay. But Darlene seemed to be about as afraid of
girls as she was boys. At the moment, the two of them had classified
themselves as "nonosexuals". Darlene was too shy and scared. And
Charity... Charity liked boys, but she was too nervous. She wasn't
exactly shy, but boys just made her nervous. So intense and eager and
all that. In her dreams, though, she always seemed to know what to do.
Too bad life isn't like that, she thought.





Charity had tried to talk with her mom about her dreams, in the past.
She felt like her mom kind of blew it off, though. She realized that
she probably didn't get across the idea of how intense they were.
Well, she didn't want to sound crazy. She just wanted a sounding board
about it, not to get committed. She'd thought about going to the
school shrink, but she didn't was to have it on her record. So she
just suffered through it.

Most of the dreams were nonsensical. Some of them she forgot, almost
instantly. Some were intense, and some were scary. She'd had one about
the end of the world that still gave her chills. She had taken a class
on psychology, but none of that stuff seemed to help her. She couldn't
help speculating on the origins of these dreams. Why was her mind
doing this to her? she thought. She still had no answers, though.

She sat that evening, at dinner with her parents, and listened to
their chatter. I was flying a spaceship last night, she thought.
Wonder what they'd think if they could have seen me. Wonder what
they'd really think if they'd seen me eating that other girl's pussy.
Shit. I wish my life was just one tenth as busy and interesting as my
dreams are. And sexy. She sighed and took a bite of pot roast.





The wind blew icy knives through her ragged coat. She shivered, and
winced when a hole in her gloves let the frozen steel of her rifle
touch her finger. Shit, it was cold. It was always cold, here on
Destiny, but the last few weeks had been colder than ever. Just about
the time the skeletons had shown up. She wondered, again, as just
about every one in the colony had, if that was coincidence, or nature?
Did the skeletons migrate? They seemed to be coming down out of the
north, where the blasts of cold came from. But the weather
observations from orbit had shown no real seasonal weather changes,
the planet had no tilt. And here, of course, on the equator, it was
milder than the rest of this godforsaken world. It was supposed to be,
at least. She softly cursed, for the millionth time, the world brokers
that had sold them this piece of shit. And the piece of shit transport
that had broken down and left them stuck here.

She heard something crunch in the snow outside the cave. Her eye met
Wilbur's, across the mouth from her. He raised his gun slowly, and she
lowered hers to the ready. They stood, waiting.

God, those fuckers are fast, she had time to think. Her AK747 was
gone, yanked from her hands. It had fired once, as her fingers raked
across the trigger, and she hoped the bullet at least hit something.
Wilbur was gone, her peripheral vision told her. She'd seen him get
yanked out into the cold, as quickly as her gun had. She stumbled
backwards, fumbling for her pistol. She never had a chance to get it
out. A skinny arm, just bone with a thin layer of hairy flesh over it,
came out of nowhere and smashed into her face. As she lay stretched
out in the ice she finally felt warm. The pain had only lasted a
second. For the first time in months, she was warm. It felt good. She
sighed, contented. 

The skeleton laid her crumpled form in the snow, and cried over her.
It cried for all the evil in the universe, it's frozen heart almost
melting with sorrow. Glittering icy tears froze on it's leathery
cheeks. It cried for what it had to do, for what it had done, and for
all the deaths it caused. It cried for sorrow, and for joy. That's
what the skeletons did. They just cried.





Charity sat with Darlene, in the stands. They hardly even glanced at
the basketball game beneath them. Well, Charity did a little, mostly
to sneer at the clumsy high school players. She'd been playing pro
basketball a week ago, she knew some moves that would blow these guys
out of the water. But, piss on that. She wasn't interested in
basketball.

Darlene was leaning way out, trying to see around a dozen people if
Chuck Simone was looking her way. Shit. He wasn't. 

"He doesn't even know I exist. What's the use," whispered Darlene to
Charity.

"I thought you had decided to be gay," Charity whispered back.

"I haven't decided anything. You don't get to decide shit like that,
you just have to figure out what it is you are." replied Darlene,
leaning out into the aisle again.

"I see," said Charity. She had just seen Donald Feldstein and one of
his friends climbing the stands, heading their way. Well, they would
pass close by the girls, if they made it this far. And... wasn't that
Dick Johnson with him? Dick the dick? Charity had heard rumors about
that guy. 

"Darlene!" she hissed. Darlene turned. She still hadn't seen Don and
Dick, Charity realized. Charity nodded her head down the stairs at the
boys. Darlene's eyes followed. 

"Look available!" Charity, said, and slid out of her seat and into the
one next to it. There, she thought. Empty seat, a girl, empty seat, a
girl. They'd have to be gay to pass this shit up.

Darlene had a funny look on her face. Shit, don't blow this for me,
Charity had time to think, when Donald stood even with her. She'd
talked to him just last week, outside of class, well, just for a
moment... but he seemed to think she was okay... she casually glanced
his way, and hoped she didn't look desperate.

"Hi, Charity!" Donald said. Dick looked like he was going to keep on
walking up the stairs, but then he stopped.

"Hi, Don," said Charity. "Fancy meeting you here." She winced. What a
dumb thing to say.

"Well," said Donald. "It is a school game. And we go to the school.
Not too surprising, when you think of it."

"No," said Charity. "Not too surprising."

"Are these seats taken?" Don asked, indicating the seats next to and
inbetween the girls.

"Oh, no. Please." said Charity, wincing again. Why did I say please?
she thought. Donald moved in front of her stepping on her toes.
"Sorry," he said, and she nodded. He sat, and then Dick moved past
him, also stepping on Charity's feet. "Sorry," Dick said. "S'okay,"
she replied.

She looked down the row, satisfied. Darlene had a slightly horrified
expression on her face, but so what. This was a sign, Charity thought.
This is like one of my dreams. Maybe it will end up that way, too.

The game progressed. Charity and Donald talked, and giggled, laughed,
joked, and finally even whispered to each other.

"Your friend seems very shy," Donald whispered in her ear. His breath
was hot, and felt good on her ear.

"She's like that," Charity whispered back. She tried to breathe as
much hot breath into his ear as he had hers. "She'll warm up
eventually."

"I'm glad we met you guys," Donald whispered, when they had moved
their heads back to his speaking position. 

"Me too," Charity said, giggling.

"You are too cool," he said, and she giggled some more.





"White man come. Red man die. Red man must survive," said Sky Chief.
The other chiefs grunted assent. Hidden Brook listened, her face down,
her eyes averted. She got to listen to the chiefs when they met,
because she was the serving girl. She fetched them food and water,
when they desired it. And... sometimes other things that they
desired...

"White man must be stopped. This Red man's land." said a chief. Sky
Chief nodded.

"White man bring rifle, horse. Is not all bad," said one of the
chiefs. A few chiefs grunted assent to that, too.

"And firewater. Don't forget." said another. There were more grunts at
that, vigorous ones.

"Firewater bad," said Sky Chief.

"But taste good," said someone else. Sky Chief grew frustrated. He
didn't feel like he was communicating effectively.

"Hidden Brook!" he called out, and she stepped forward and bowed low.

"Tell us of that dream," Sky Chief said. Hidden Brook gulped,
embarrassed to have to speak in front of such a large, important
group.

"It was in the time which is yet to be," she said shyly. The chiefs
listened. Some of them were shocked that Sky Chief would let a lowly
woman talk, at the assemblage of chiefs. Out of respect for him they
listened, though. She continued.

"In that time, red men were equal to white men, and very wealthy. They
had much wampum, and women, and firewater, as much as they wanted.
They built great teepees that the white man came to, and the white man
gave away much wampum when inside. Food and firewater was served, and
celebrations happened. Things made of wood and iron and glass made
noises and rang bells, and lights lit up without fire or heat.
Sometimes wampum came from these... things... but never more than was
put into them to start with. It was beautiful but also frightening and
confusing to me, a simple woman."

She ran out of breath and stopped, embarrassed. Sky Chief nodded
thoughtfully.

"This is a prophecy. It is truth," he finally said. "This is why red
man must survive. Some day we will be wealthy and own large teepees,
if we just survive. Someday we will take the white man's wampum, and
grow rich."

The other chiefs seemed satisfied. They nodded and agreed among
themselves. They each clasped Sky Chief's arm. Everyone seemed to
agree, the red man must survive. The future looked bright, if they
could just survive.

"Hidden Brook!" Sky Chief called out. He was already loosening his
loincloth. "These are my friends! With your lips you must polish their
totem poles!" He sniggered wickedly.

Hidden Brook shyly came forward again, embarrassed. She dropped to her
knees, as she did before the chief every night. Who will be first, she
wondered. A chief named Fast Antelope seemed to be the bravest. He
dropped his loincloth. Goodness, thought Hidden Brook. His name should
be Big Antelope. She was glad to do this, for the chief. She was glad
to bow before all the chiefs.





That morning, Charity just lay in bed, laughing to herself, bemused,
remembering her dream. She was a little embarrassed, as Hidden Brook
had been. What on earth inspired that dream, she wondered. And damn,
she thought. My jaw is even sore. What the fuck? She remembered the
feeling of those stiff tubes of flesh in her mouth, and the musty
taste of their... manly essences. Why would I dream that, she
thought... putting ten men's penises in my mouth, one after the
other... why the fuck would my head do that to me... although... in
the dream, I did seemed to enjoy it... I am not telling Darlene this
one... I wonder if real sex is that good. Well, not just sucking guys
off, sex, real sex. Missionary position sex. She hoped to find out
someday. Lord knows, she thought, I wonder if my real sex life will
ever be as interesting as my dream sex life. Though I don't really
want to suck off ten guys at a time.




That afternoon, Charity and Darlene met Don and Dick at the Hardlee's
next to the school. Darlene hadn't been too crazy about the idea, she
still wasn't sure about Dick. 

"I swear, he tried to feel my boob with his shoulder at the game," she
told Charity, who just laughed. Charity wished Don would have tried
that with her. She'd have let him, she thought. She was ready for
interesting things to happen. She was ready for her life to start.

They sat for maybe twenty minutes, growing more and more impatient,
until the boys finally showed up, embarrassed.

"We had a... parental malfunction," said Donald. "My dad locked his
keys in the car."

"It's cool," said Charity. They ordered, got their shit, and she and
Don sat on one side of the table, while Darlene and Dick sat on the
other. This is working out well, thought Charity. And Darlene seemed
to be coming out of her shell.

Thirty minutes later they walked down the sidewalk, through the
gathering gloom. As natural as could be, Don had taken her hand,
outside the restaurant, and she had let him. They'd been holding hands
the whole way, now. Very good, Charity thought to herself. Her mind
was feverishly trying to think of ways to speed the process up a bit.
The four of them approached the elementary school playground. She led
the group into it.

The girls sat in the swings while the guys pushed them. Oh, thought
Charity, this was a good idea. Every time she came back, Don put his
hands right on her butt and pushed her. This is fun, she thought.

They finally gravitated to the merry go round, and sat on it, and
lazily spun it around with their feet. Darlene and Dick sat on the far
side, and Charity and Don whispered and giggled to each other. Charity
was having a great time.

"Did you talk to Dick?" Charity whispered. Don nodded.

"Yes. He likes her. He thinks she's hot. Did you talk to her?"

"Yes. She already liked him. And she's curious..." Charity shut up.
She wasn't sure if it was too early to talk about things like this, so
she shut up.

"Curious? About what?" said Don. Charity shook her head.

"Nothing," she said. He laughed.

"I know what. The rumors. Big Dick Johnson, the Dick with the big
johnson. Yes, they're true."

She looked askance at him.

"Hey," he said. "Gym class. The showers, you know? That's the only
reason I know."

"Okay, okay," she said. Enough information. And, interesting
information that she could pass on. "I don't think it matters that
much to her. She just wants a nice guy."

"Dick's a nice guy, once he gets to know you. At least he's not a...
dick," whispered Don, and Charity giggled.

Darlene's house was the closest, so they walked her home first. Then
Dick followed behind Charity and Don as they walked to her house. Then
Dick waited patiently at the mailbox while Don walked Charity up to
her front porch. They said goodnight and hugged for a moment.

"Charity," Don said.

"What?"

"May I kiss you? Just a quick little kiss?"

She giggled. "Of course, Don. You don't have to ask."

He leaned forward, and gave her a quick peck on the mouth. Shit, she
thought. That was not enough.

"Don," she said. "That was not enough." She leaned forward, closed her
eyes, and pursed her lips. To her satisfaction he gave her a good one,
right on the lips.

"Thank you," she said, and smiled at him.

"No. Thank you," he said. He smiled back, and then turned, and she
stood and watched him and Dick walk away. My goodness, she thought, I
am moving up in the world. That was cool. My first kiss, my first kiss
in the real world, not the dream world. She turned and let herself in
the house. She could smell barbecue in the kitchen. Excellent, she
thought. Excellent.





She touched the pistol, still tucked in her garter. She knew she could
not afford to let the pirate put his hand beneath her skirt. He seemed
satisfied at the moment, to just paw her breasts. Her corset was all
the way untied, and her breasts were exposed to his attentions. His,
and any one else that might walk by the cabin. She glanced to the
corner. The children were watching her, wide-eyed. She winked at the
girl, and got a weak smile in return. She knew they were scared. Hell,
she was scared, too.

The pirate grunted, squeezing her fat nipples. That actually feels
good, she had time to think. His hands were rough and calloused, but
that seemed to add to the experience. She casually glanced down to his
codpiece. It was pretty pronounced, she thought. He must like me.

A roar of rage came from the door. Goodness. It was the captain. In
just a few short steps he was in the room, and he slugged the pirate
hard, in the head. The man fell, and began to crawl to the door. The
captain pulled a flintlock from his belt, and put a soft lead ball in
the back of the man's head. Brains and bits of bone splattered
everywhere. She stared, aghast, and heard the children crying in the
background.

"You should treat a lady," the captain snarled, "like a lady."

He turned and gently lifted her corset to hide her nakedness. He
carefully laced it up again, and pulled her blouse down from around
her neck.

"Lady Wyndor," the captain addressed her. Good, she thought. She
hadn't known her own name up until now. "You must forgive the
barbarities of my crew. Many of them have been at sea for... many
years."

She nodded, and fanned herself with her hand.

He continued. "I, too, have been at sea for... many years. The
pleasure of female companionship is something that I haven't had...
well, since Jamaica, to be honest. Would you do the pleasure of dining
with me, in my cabin, tonight?"

"Yes, captain, I will," she replied. Ha, she thought. Alone, at last.
Then maybe I can do some good with this pistol.

The scene changed, that quickly. She felt a moment of disorientation,
then realized she had just finished dinner with the captain. A servant
cleared the table, and the captain poured some brandy into two
snifters. She touched her gun, and was dismayed to find it not there.
What had happened? Had she left it in her cabin? I thought I came here
to shoot him, she thought. Shit. Where is this headed?

The brandy made her cough, and then sneeze. The captain laughed, and
offered her his handkerchief. She delicately blew her nose in it, and
then kept it, not sure he'd want it back after that.

There was some mumbling conversation that she didn't really
understand, although she took part in it.

"It would give me great pleasure to give you great pleasure," the
captain finally pronounced, causing her to stop and think. What did he
mean by that? He stood, and reached down. He placed one hand behind
her legs, and the other behind her back, and she fell, without even
intending too, into his arms. He carried her to the large bed in
center of the room. What is happening? she thought.

She had looked closely at him when they'd been brought on board. After
he had sank the ship they were traveling on. She'd looked at him
critically, wanting to hate him. He was everything, to her, that a
pirate captain was usually not. Young, handsome, polite, even
debonair. He was wasted, she thought, as a pirate. He should be a
nobleman, or even a prince. How had he come to be a pirate?

The captain gently slid her blouse over her head. He slowly unlaced
her corset, and also lifted it over her head. The cool sea air felt
good on her naked breasts. She looked down. Oh, she thought, what nice
breasts I have. Full and round, with two plump pink nipples. How
kissable they are. She was already hoping they'd be kissed tonight.

The captain found the button that held her skirt on, and unbuttoned
it. She lifted her butt so he could slide it down her legs. He
inserted a thumb on each side of her hips into the elastic of her
bloomers, and she raised again so he could slide them down. A stray
thought passed through her brain, making her wonder if they'd actually
had elastic way back then. Way back then? Way back now. What?

Oh, she thought. I thought I was shaved. Instead, a nice furry bush
confronted her. What the hell, she thought. The captain had stopped to
stare, captivated. She laughed softly, starting to unbutton his
trousers for him, then remembering that he might not like his women to
be so forward.

"My dear, you are delectable. I want to eat you up," he finally said.
She knew he was under her spell. Ha ha, she thought, the captor is now
the captive. How can I turn this to benefit me, now? To benefit us,
she belatedly remembered the children, her charges, still left back in
her cabin.

"Captain, you may," she said. He turned a puzzled eye to her.

"I may what?" he asked.

"You may eat me up," she simply said, spreading her legs slightly. He
got the hint.

In just a few short minutes, she came hard. She had an earth-shaking,
wall-breaking orgasm. She wrapped her legs around his head, and
pressed his face into her cunt. He laughed, somewhere down there, and
kept licking. Oh, she thought, go for two, go for two. He went for
two. The second one was even better. She writhed, feeling the sweaty
sheets beneath her. This even feels like my bed, she thought.

The captain had had enough of the munchies. He was ready for his
reward now. He stood, and unbuttoned his codpiece. Oh my, she thought,
as he drew his manhood out. He is indeed master of this ship. What a
torpedo he has. Lord.

She was so wet he didn't even have to spit on it. He placed the head
of his massive cock at the entrance to her womanhood.

"Captain... dearest..." she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
Yes, she thought, I really did that. "I am still a... still a... still
a virgin... please be gentle..."

His eyes lit up. That interested him. Virgins were pretty rare, for
pirates. And this one was... just wonderful. He was almost in love
with her already. And he was getting to take her maidenhead. He knew
that every man she made love to for the rest of her life would be
measured against him. His size, and his technique. He wanted to make
this something special for her, he already loved her that much.

He pressed into her, deeper and deeper. She gave a cry, and he
thought, virgin no more. Two tears streaked down the sides of her
head, but she dealt with it well. He did feel good, inside her. Other
than that momentary sting. He filled her up, he made her feel full. He
made her feel good. He idly rubbed her clit with his finger, and she
squirmed all the harder.

When he hit bottom, she thought she was going to burst, she was so
full of him. When he pulled out, and pushed back in, a wave of
pleasure washed over her. God, that feels good, she thought. I want to
do this every day from now on. He began to speed up, and she sucked in
air, breathing in time with his pounding. She felt tightness in her
legs and thighs, and her back was slowly arching, further and further.
This was going to be a good one, she thought, a really good one. Wave
after wave broke over her. She felt good.

The cabin door burst open. A sailor stood at the door and screamed,
"Captain! Warship off the port bow! Flying the royal colors!"

"Oh, bother," said the captain, still pumping. Lady Wyndor picked that
moment to cum. 





"Yes, I know that sounds kind of cliche," said Charity. "But they were
pirates."

"A pirate. Like captain Hook?" said Darlene. 

"Yes, but much younger and much more handsome. He popped my cherry."

"Lord, girl. You are so lucky." Darlene said, shaking her head.

They were sitting in the cafeteria. Well, they were waiting to see if
the guys showed up, too. So far, nothing.

"Charity," Darlene said, a faraway look on her face. "You say that
your dreams always mirror reality. You say that when you get hurt in a
dream, and wake up, you have the scar or whatever."

"Yes," said Charity, wondering where Darlene was going with this.

"Have you checked... have you checked to see if you are still a
virgin? If your cherry really got popped?"

Shit. That was kind of embarrassing. She hadn't, no. I mean, who keeps
and eye on something like that? She knew she was a virgin, although
she'd never admit it to Darlene. She'd tried sticking her fingers in
herself, many times. Her little finger would reach, a ways. But that
was it. Her maidenhead was strong, and the hole was pretty tiny. She
knew she was still a virgin.

"Darlene, the shit you think of sometimes... I don't know about you,
girl."

"Well, check and see. It'll prove something to you, either way."

"Darlene... I've heard of girls popping their own cherries from
gymnastics and tumbling and stuff. It won't prove anything."

"Well, check it, tonight. Let me know."

Charity wasn't sure that she wanted to keep Darlene updated on the
condition of her hymen. That seemed kind of personal. Still...
wouldn't it be freaky if I checked it, and it was gone? she thought.





It was freaky. It was damn freaky. Charity racked her brain to think
of when last she'd played around with herself, and felt her hymen.
Less than a week... she couldn't think of any strenuous exercise she'd
done, since then. Hell, none of that shit in a year, at least. And
now, as demonstrated by her middle finger, her hymen was gone. Damn,
damn. Damn peculiar. Could it have just happened on it's own, with
nothing precipitating it? Spontaneous remission of the hymen or
something? Could it be called that? This begged for googling. She lay
in her bed, idly sniffing her middle finger. I smell good, she
thought, just like that lady the other night. I wish I could have that
one again. That girl was hot. Her finger strayed back down to her
crotch. Just to make sure, she plunged it in again. No problem. She
began to wiggle and worry two fingers in it. Oh, that felt pretty
good... not as good as the captain had felt, but pretty damn good.





Darlene's eyes got wider and wider as Charity told her that she was no
longer a virgin. They just sat, finally, in perplexed silence.

"You know for sure it's gone... you looked?" said Darlene. Charity
squirmed.

"I felt. And yes, I know for sure. It's gone. And it was there, a week
ago."

"Charity," Darlene finally said. Charity looked at her. The other girl
looked positively spaced out, whacked. Like she'd just seen a ghost or
something.

"Charity. I'm working on a theory. It's just a theory, mind you. But
it might explain what's happening to you. I think that when you sleep
your spirit or soul or whatever goes to alternate universes, and
actually does these things. I mean, that explains the scars and shit,
right? And your cherry being popped?"

Charity shook her head. She was no rocket surgeon, but she saw holes
all in that idea.

"Darlene. If it's just my soul, then scars wouldn't show up on my
body. Or my cherry wouldn't have been popped. It's just coincidence,
that's all. That's all it can be. If your theory is right, my body
would have to go, too, right?"

"Well, like I said, it's just a theory," said Darlene defensively.
"There are always details to work out."





"Ogg!" Thum shouted. She was angry. Little Thum-Thum was hungry. Ogg
had brought no meat home the day before. Now, her daughter was hungry.

"Ogg! Go hunt!" she shouted. He snorted and finally dragged himself up
from beside the fire. She thought about kicking him, but she knew he
kicked back. She'd only made that mistake once. 

Ogg finally found his club, and stumbled out the mouth of the cave.
That was good. Ogg would kill something, and they could eat. She might
try that new thing again, of putting the meat in the fire for a while.
All the others were doing it, now. It took a little longer, but it
tasted good. 

Thum-Thum was crying again. Thum knew that her tummy hurt. She rocked
the little girl, holding her and humming to her. She finally went to
the back of the cave, using a burning stick for light, and found some
cave crickets. She fed them to the little girl, hoping it would shut
her up for a while. It seemed to.

She sat in the mouth of the cave, content to let the sun heat her
body. Her furs did not smell good, she thought, sniffing herself. We
will have to go to the river, and soak them for a while. Sometimes
that helped. She scratched under her arms, and between her legs.
Stupid fleas. She picked at them for a while, and managed to get a few
of them. She idly cracked them between her teeth, and spit them out.

Finally, after the fire in the sky had almost touched the mountains,
Ogg showed back up. And happiness! He brought with him a large
bassalope. Thum helped him skin the animal, and cut up the meat with
sharp pieces of flint. She built up the fire, and tossed some of the
meat into it. She hummed and petted Thum-Thum. The meat smelled good,
as it sizzled in the coals.

"Ogg mighty hunter!" Ogg shouted. Oh, fissle, she thought, which was a
caveman swear word. Do we have to do this every time? Couldn't he just
bring the shit home, I mean, isn't that his job in the first place? Is
that too much to ask?

Ogg beat on his chest, and coughed slightly. "Ogg bring back food! Ogg
mighty hunter! Bassalope run, but Ogg faster! Ogg kill, with mighty
club!"

"Yes, Ogg, mighty hunter," she sighed, wanting to get it over with.
Wearily, she sighed. She knew what was next.

"Thum!" Ogg yelled at her. "Come! Ogg want zug-zug!"

She sighed again. She climbed to her feet and approached him. She
turned and presented her butt to him, pulling her furs up. She bent
over, the way he liked it.

"Ogg best zug-zug on whole mountain! Thum love Ogg zug-zug! Say it!
Thum love Ogg zug-zug!"

"Yes!" she said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Thum love Ogg
zug-zug!"

"Good. Is good." Ogg entered her. Zug-zug does feel good, thought
Thum. And end is best part. He began to pound her, grasping the crease
of her thighs with his rough hands. Ogg not so bad after all, Thum
thought. And he does good zug-zug. Go for long time. Long time zug-zug
good.

Thum-Thum filled her mouth with raw bassalope meat. Parents whacky, or
the equivalent of, she thought. Always wanting to do zug-zug. What big
deal with that?





"Let me get this straight," said Don. "You dreamed you were a cave
woman?"

"Yeah. Crazy huh?" said Charity.

"Yeah. Crazy, but cool."

"She's probably not telling you all of it," said Darlene. Charity
shushed her, embarrassed already. She certainly was not telling him
all of it.

"Oh really. Did somebody hit you on the head with a club and drag you
off by the hair?" he said.

"No... but he did kill an animal and we ate it." She hadn't intended
for this to be embarrassing.

"Well, you are lucky. Most of my dreams are stupid. Stupid or
embarrassing," Don said.

"Really!" said Charity brightly, "you must tell them to me sometimes.
Especially the embarrassing ones."

Don actually got embarrassed at that, so she figured they were wet
dreams or something. She giggled, and he giggled back. Darlene felt
left out, Dick hadn't showed today, for some reason. Charity wondered
if she could tell Don the real dream, if Darlene left. If she'd have
the nerve. That might get the ball rolling between them.





That night, Charity's parents told her something that sparked her
interest. They were going on a cruise, for their anniversary. She
would be on her own for five days. The idea of that really appealed to
her. She would be the master of her destiny, for five days. That would
be cool, she decided. She wondered if she could have Don over to the
house. If she was brave enough. Some privacy, she thought. Privacy, at
last.





The air in the dungeon was thick and moist. It was almost hot down
there. It smelled like sweat and piss. Elsa strode through the open
doorway, her riding crop in her right hand. Three prisoners were on
the walls tonight. Three to break, she thought. She approached the
first man, making sure the manacles were locked securely around his
hands and feet. The quislings weren't always as careful as she was.
Yes, he was secure. She slashed her riding crop down on his bare
buttocks, and was rewarded with a yelp of pain. Good. He was lively,
she could tell. He would be... enjoyable, tonight. She pulled his
groin from against the wall, and peeked at him. Not a giant, she
thought, but nominal. Nominal will do.

The second man was secure, too. She experimentally whipped him also,
but just go a jerk out of him. He looked pretty rung out, anyway. He
probably wouldn't be much fun. She pulled his body out from the wall
slightly, to look at his organ. Hmmm, she thought. I bet your nickname
in school was tiny. She went to the third man. He was a big
motherfucker, she thought. A giant. She gave him a spank on the butt,
and he jerked and glared at her. He looked nice and angry. Good. She
bent slightly, and peered through his legs. A giant nutsack, and
hanging down even further in front of it, a giant schwanz... goodness.
A true summer sausage. She would save this one for last.

"Elsa!" Shit. It was der Kommandant. She knew what was next. Every
time he came hunting for her, she knew what was next. She felt nervous
already. She felt like a little choirboy, about to confront the pope.
Or a tiny sparrow, about to go into the chambers of a magnificent
eagle.

"Else, der Fuhrer wishes your company tonight. He says to bring your
special... appliance."

She nodded, and gave der Kommandant a salute. He saluted, winked, and
left. She felt breathless and eager. der Fuhrer, again. This was the
third night this week. He must really like her. She left the dungeon
in a hurry. She must return to her room and bathe for tonight. She
must get ready.

Suddenly, it was later. She realized with a start that she was on her
back on a couch, and a man was standing before her. Something buzzed
loudly, and she looked down. She was naked, and an electrical cord ran
from the wall to her crotch. Something was deep inside her body, and
it was vibrating like a angry hornet. Damn, she thought, that feels
good. Shit. She felt another orgasm starting. She'd had one already?
She missed that part. Well, this one was shaping up nicely. Her calves
almost cramped, she was tensing up so hard. 

She looked into the face of the man watching her. His intense eyes
bored into her vagina, watching the ivory penis enter and exit her
body, over and over. And the vibration! Damn, that felt good. She
pulled it out for a moment, and pressed it against her clit. God that
felt good. Der Fuhrer snickered, and she smiled. She knew he loved
this shit, for some reason.

"Elsa," he spoke, and she gave his her complete attention.

"Yes, mein Fuhrer," she said.

"You must..." he paused. She knew it was hard for him to say. "You
must... put that in my body. You must fuck me with it. Like you do
yourself."

Not exactly, she thought. Different hole. But she was glad to obey.
Choirboy, and pope? Hell, More like choirboy, and God.





Oh god, thought Charity, laying in bed. Her stomach was in turmoil.
She'd hoped for a good one tonight. Not jamming a vibrator up some old
man's ass. Jeezus. What a goofy fucking mustache, she thought. The
dream had started well. She had felt powerful, alive... she'd even
kind of enjoyed whipping those men who were tied up. She could have
stood some more of that. But the dream went to shit real quick.
Literally. Fuck. Here's another one that's not for public consumption,
she thought.





That night, she talked to Don on the phone, and told him about her
parents leaving, for almost a week. She mentioned that he could come
over and watch TV, and he agreed, that would be cool. She had intended
on bringing him over earlier, but now she didn't want to, she didn't
want her parents to get cold feet about leaving her by herself. She
didn't want them to know that she had a kinda boyfriend, not now. 

Don asked about what she'd dreamed last night, and she told him a
heavily edited version of the dungeon dream. With no sex at all, and
especially no butt-fucking. He giggled about it, and she did too. 





The week passed slowly, and the day finally arrived. Her parents drove
away, for the airport. They had left a nice long list of do's and
dont's for her, which she scanned perfunctorily. It said nothing about
having boys over. Good, she thought. It did say no wild parties, with
a smiley-face after. That was no problem. She hadn't planned on a wild
one. Just a little two-person party.





Her and Darlene met the boys at McDerp's that night, and enjoyed some
tasty cheap food. They walked out into the fall evening air, and
wondered what to do.

"Let's go to my house," said Charity. "My folks are gone. We can just
hang out and watch the big-screen."

They walked the short route to her house, and she let them all in. She
turned on the TV and they all sat, looking thought the channels.
Nothing was interesting, but so what, in a while they were all talking
and giggling about school and shit. 

Darlene asked to use her computer, and her and Dick disappeared
upstairs. Don scooted over on the couch, right next to her. He put his
arm around her, and hugged. She turned her face to his. They were just
inches apart. She could feel his breath on her face. She wished she
could go brush her teeth. All part of the deal, she thought.

She was surprised that he was brave enough to kiss her, when he did.
But she loved it. She melted against him, and they kissed again. And
again. She lost count. She wiggled her tongue against his, and
giggled. This was almost as fun as one of her dreams, she thought.

"Charity," Donald said, in one of the rare moments when their lips
weren't locked together. "I love you. I love you, I love you. Will you
be my girlfriend?"

"Of course," she replied, and they kissed again. She slid against him
further, and felt him lean over onto the couch. Before long they were
laying side by side, barely fitting on the couch. His arms were around
her, and... my god, she thought... he's touching my butt. Her titty
nipples were so hard they hurt. Shit, she thought, go for broke.

"Don," she whispered in his ear, trying to sound seductive. "You may
touch me wherever you choose."

It still took him a good ten minutes to get to her boobs. But, at last
she was happy, as he squeezed and massaged them. And, damn... it felt
good... as good as it had felt when that damn pirate squeezed them.
She wondered what Darlene and Dick were doing, if they were just
looking shit up on the computer, or doing something a little more
entertaining. She hoped so.

Don seemed happy with her boobs. He finally slid his hands beneath her
shirt, and the feeling of his bare skin against hers electrified her.
His hands felt hot on her. He squeezed her bare nipples, and she
squirmed with pleasure. He finally began fumbling behind her, and got
her bra unsnapped. There, she thought, that's much better. It felt
good to get out of that boobcage anyway. He rubbed and scratched the
underneath side of her breasts, and she fell in love all over again.
Damn, that feels good.

Thirty minutes of this was not enough, she thought, but she wanted to
see some progression. She didn't want it to get stale.

"Don," she whispered again. He seemed like he had a good handle on
this making out thing to her, he just needed a little guidance every
now and then. "Don, touch me... down there... please..."

Yes. Guidance, and encouragement. She felt his trembling hand slide
down her belly, past her belly button, and into her jeans. She made a
wordless little cry, and unsnapped and unzipped her jeans. There. Get
on with it, she thought.

She wondered if he would be surprised that she shaved. She had seen,
from the showers at school, that a lot of girls shaved, and she'd
started, a year or two ago. She liked the feel of it, especially right
after she shaved. It felt so soft and so goddam sexy... this will be
very interesting she thought.

Freed from the constriction of her jeans, his hand plunged further and
further into her pants. She felt his fingers, at last, on her holy of
holies. Her private of privates. And damn, did it every feel good.
Good and sexy. He rubbed his finger down her pussy crack, and she
could feel her juices already smearing beneath him. She hesitantly
reached her hand over, and positioned it above his zipper.

"Allow me," he said, politely, and unsnapped and unzipped his pants.
She felt the waistband of his underwear, and slid her hand beneath it.
Almost immediately, she ran into something. Something hard. Hard, and
fleshy. Of course he's got an erection, she thought. He's got his
hands in a girl's pants. Mine. 

He was rubbing her clit, at that moment, sending waves of pleasure
washing down her body. Something about clits, she thought, just
something about them. Damn. She remembered sucking that woman's giant
clit in her space dream. Damn, she thought, I wish mine was that big.
That was sexier than hell. 

She finally got her hand around the shaft of Don's cock. She rubbed it
a bit, and then grasped it tighter, and moved it up and down. He
sighed, and moaned. She knew it felt good. She finally pulled his
underwear down, and pulled it beneath his balls. His cock stood up, in
all its glory. She stopped kissing him for a moment, and looked at it.
It looked cool. It looked much like what she's seen in her dreams. It
wasn't as big as the captains, but still, it was a nice one. She
grabbed it by the shaft again, and began to pump.

"Stick your finger in me," she whispered, and Don complied, pressing
his index finger into her body. "In and out," she clarified, and he
began a kind of sawing motion. That felt good, and when his thumb
bumped her clit every now and then, all the better. 

Shit, she thought, this is a good as one of my dreams. She was content
to just lay here, jacking him off, and let him finger-fuck her. She
wondered again what Darlene and Dick were doing. Damn, they'd been
gone a long time. But she hoped they stayed gone a while longer.





An hour later, when Darlene and Dick finally stumbled down the stairs,
Charity and Don were sitting primly on he couch, watching the
Simpsons. Charity had gotten a dishtowel from the kitchen, and cleaned
most of Don's cum from her legs and the couch. He'd seemed as
surprised as she'd been, when he came, and she wondered why. Surely he
jacked off, didn't all boys do that? Well, whatever. She was sure that
the room still smelled like semen, and she giggled softly to herself,
wondering what Darlene would think. If Darlene guessed that's what it
was, that is.





Don and Dick both seemed kind of spaced, and the rest of the evening
passed fairly quickly. They had to leave at ten, and finally the girls
were alone. Eagerly they shared their adventures, to find them
surprisingly similar. With the exception that Dick hadn't ejaculated,
that is. Charity was sure the boys shared their stories on the way
home, and she was glad she'd given him that part to tell about, at
least. She'd half-way thought about offering to put it in her mouth,
but maybe that was moving a bit too quickly. There would surely be a
next time, she thought.

She walked home with Darlene, and spent the night with the girl. They
cuddled in Darlene's bed, and giggled most of the night, going over
the evening again and again.





She was beneath the ocean. The sunlight flickered and flashed, far
above her. She was rising, her breath almost gone. She felt slightly
faint. The surface rose quickly, though, and she knew she'd make it.
She burst through into open air, and splashed back down. She sucked a
ragged breath in, glorying in the feel of it. Pure, clean sea air. She
looked around her, and there the boat was. She paddled to it, and
handed her find up to the man waiting on the deck above. He took it
and gazed at it, holding it up. It looked like a pearl to her. She
wondered why she hadn't known that before. The man grunted, and nodded
his head. He passed her a jug, and she took a drink of some harsh,
aromatic liquid. It burned her throat, but it tasted good. She nodded
her thanks, and rested for a moment, holding onto the side of the
boat. The man talked to her in a sing-song language she didn't
understand, and she even answered in the same tongue. She had no idea
what she'd said. It didn't matter to her, for some reason. She took a
few deep breaths, sucking air into her lungs until she felt dizzy, and
dove down into the water.

She was topless, she'd noticed. Another girl had been approaching the
boat, and she was topless too, her fat nipples hard in the cool water.
It felt good to be topless she decided. She loved this job. And the
sea was so beautiful. It was a different world, beneath the waves.
Fish slowly swam by. Octopuses played. Crabs scuttled along the ocean
floor. Huge plants waved slowly in the gentle current. She wished she
could be a fish, and live here, beneath the waves.

She swam along, just a few feet from the bottom. Suddenly, she saw it.
A huge, huge mollusk. Two feet across, probably. Half open, the
creature fed as the ocean currents washed nutrients into its shell.
And... to her surprise, there was the single most desirable pearl in
the universe. Just a foot away.

Desirable mainly because of it's size. It was huge. Unbelievably huge.
This was what she'd waited her whole life for, she thought. This will
make me rich. This is one I will not turn in. She was naked, almost,
except for a small tight loincloth, pulled up between her legs. As big
as this pearl was, if she hid it in her mouth, she could not talk. But
she did have one hiding place, where it would never be found. Her
sweet little cunt. She would press it up into her cunt, and swim to
the surface. No one would ever know. When the white pearl merchants
came to town, she would take her brother with her for protection, and
go deal with them. They would pay greatly for this pearl.

She looked around in the murky water, pleased to see that she was
alone. None of the other girls were within sight. She felt a twinge
from her lungs, and knew that she had less than a minute left. She
needed to snatch the pearl, and rise.

She slowly moved her hand to the mouth of the clamshell, careful not
to disturb the currents too much. The mussel was blind, but it had a
very well developed sense of touch, of the water flowing across it.
She wondered if it already knew she was there.

She knew the second she touched the pearl, the mollusk would slam
shut. She didn't want her hand to be caught in it. An idea struck her,
and she looked hurriedly around, finally swimming down and grasping a
large rock that had been sitting on the sea floor. She placed the rock
at the mouth of the clamshell, and before she had even started to go
for the pearl, the mollusk had closed on it. Ha ha, she thought, I am
more clever than a clam. She picked the pearl, holding it's
magnificence in her small hand. It felt like money, to her. It gleamed
its soft luster at her. This was her lucky day.

She stopped halfway to the surface, and reached beneath her loincloth.
She pressed the pearl into her body, deep inside herself. It slid
easily, and it felt good. Not as good as some things that she'd had
put up there... but it felt good. She rearranged her loincloth, and
continued on up to the surface. 

She climbed in the boat. The day was pretty much over. The other girls
were coming in, too. She shook her head sadly at the overseer.
Nothing, this time. So sorry. He glared at her for a moment, and then
turned the key to the engine. The days accumulation of gas fumes that
had filled the entire inside of the boat exploded into a thunderous
fireball. There were no survivors.





Charity awoke, gasping for breath, the darkness claustrophobic and
cloying. She'd had dreams before that she'd died in, and they were
always like this. Her heart was pounding and her head hurt. She
fumbled for the lamp beside her bed, and finally got it turned on.
That helped a little, her room reassured her. It was only a dream, she
told herself, only a dream.

School that day passed, uneventfully. At lunch she'd told Darlene her
dream, in what had become a daily ritual for them. Darlene seemed
disappointed that there wasn't any sex in it, and that amused Charity.
Darlene seemed well on her way to becoming a highly charged sexual
particle, Charity thought. Amazing what an evening of fondling a boy's
hard dick with do. And not just any dick, Darlene was getting to wrap
her hands around Big Dick's big dick.

She first noticed the strange feeling in one of her classes. She just
felt like something was in there. In her pussy, of all places. I
wonder if it's a pearl, she thought, joking to herself. She finally
excused herself from class, and made her way to the girl's bathroom.
She locked herself in a stall, pulled down her jeans and panties, and
prepared to scratch the itch.

To her utter and complete shock, when she slid her finger inside
herself, she hit something. Something hard. Something hard was in her
pussy. Her cunt. Something was up inside her cunt. She gasped for
breath, her heart in her throat. What the fuck was this, she thought.
She scrabbled on it, almost pushing it deeper, wondering how to get it
out. There seemed to be no way. She finally pulled her jeans back up,
and made the short walk to the cafeteria. A worker gave her a spoon,
with the promise that she return it when her "class project" was
completed. I'm not sure you'd want it back if you knew what I was
going to do with it, she thought.

Back in the bathroom the spoon made short work of the problem. She sat
there, on the toilet, tears streaming from her eyes, and stared at the
giant pearl in her hand. What is happening, she thought? What is
happening to me? How did this get up there? This one there was no
explaining, short of the dream. A scratch on her arm was one thing,
but a pearl in her pussy? She felt like her life was completely out of
control. What is going to happen next? she thought. Anything can
happen to me, if this can. 

It occurred to her that although the pearl had passed from dream to
wakefulness, her death in the explosion had not. But that was somebody
else, she thought. I kind of understand that. But how did the pearl
get transferred from her body to mine? There was no explanation for
something this profound. She finally stuck the pearl in her pocket,
and slowly walked back to class.

She had no idea how to tell Darlene all this, that afternoon. She was
still in shock. Finally, she just yanked the pearl out of her pocket.

"Come on, we're going to the jeweler's." she told Darlene. Darlene
looked at her, puzzled, but followed dutifully. The jewelry store was
downtown, and as they walked Charity let the whole story spill out.
Darlene's eyes got wider and wider.

"I told you. I tried to tell you," Darlene finally said, seeming to
also be in shock. Charity still was in shock. Parts of her brain still
seemed to be frozen. They stopped, in the middle of the sidewalk, and
Charity let Darlene examine the pearl. Charity was almost afraid to
turn loose of it, and she was relieved when Darlene handed it back.
She was doubly relieved that Darlene had believed her about where it
had been and hadn't sniffed it.

"And that is real?" Darlene finally asked.

"Shit, Darlene, why do you think we're going to the jeweler's? I have
no idea."

The man was helpful, at the store. Helpful, and interested in her
made-up-on-the-spot story of finding this in her late grandmother's
possessions. He took the pearl reverently and subjected it several
test, bouncing it in his hand to determine it's weight, and examining
it with a loupe. He finally motioned the girls to follow him, and they
went in the back of the store where he used a microscope on it. He
finally sat back, and shook his head.

"Ladies." He rose and took the pearl, and gave it back to Charity.
They returned to the retail area. "As much as I want to say it's not,
I believe that is a real pearl. I have never, in my career as a
jeweler, though, seen one this large. Large ones do exist, of course,
but size isn't all there is to it. Luster is important, and this pearl
has a very good luster. And most unbelievably of all, this pearl shows
signs of being a natural pearl, not a seeded one. Seeded ones are
rarely large, anyway. Guard that with your life, girl. My advice to
you is go to New York City, and have it professionally appraised. In
any case, you are holding a small fortune in your hands. I would love
to buy it from you, but I couldn't even begin to give you what it's
worth."

After some more talk of this variety she thanked the man, and they
departed the store. Deep in thought, they walked back to Charity's
house. She carefully placed the pearl in her jewelry box.

"Well. What now?" she said, turning to Darlene.

"I dunno. Charity, I'm sorry, but I'm in over my head. I don't know
what to tell you."

"S'okay. Thanks for being there."





Charity spent the rest of the evening kind of in a daze. She wished
her parents were home, though she was not sure why. She would never
have the nerve to tell them the whole story, like she had Darlene.

Don called that evening, and they talked for what seemed like hours.
He could tell she was distracted, though, and asked her several times
what was wrong.

"Don," she finally said. "I just been through a lot today, and had a
shock. I'll be okay. Thanks for being concerned, though."

They made plans to meet the next day after school. She was planning to
somehow politely leave Darlene out of the scene this time. Time for a
little private time.





As a gladiator, she had her pick of which temple to visit the night
before a deathmatch. For some reason she chose Saturn. She wasn't very
religious, and didn't even have a favorite god, but Saturn had always
appealed to her. Cronus. He ate his own children. She liked that, for
some reason.

Her guards stopped at the doorway. She went on in, and made a
perfunctory bow to the massive statue dominating the room. That was it
for worship, she really didn't believe in the gods, anyway. She
snooped around the alter a while, looking for something to steal, but
found nothing. She finally took a seat and let an hour of relaxation
go by, before she exited the room and walked with her guards back to
the Colosseum.

Everything blurred. She was standing on a pile of sand, looking down
at a man in armor, holding a trident. Shit. She was fighting. Why did
it go right into the middle of the fight? He came towards her, and she
pointed her spear at him. Let him impale himself. Some fighters had
done just that, to get it over with. This guy, though... he looked a
little tougher than that. He was a giant, a good head taller than she
was. Why did they match him with me? she wondered if the judges had
decided it was time for her to die. But the crowd loved her so.

He feinted, and she parried. He was good, but she realized from just
that, that she was quicker. Unless he was holding back, trying to fool
her. She finally came down off her pile of dirt, and they circled each
other slowly. The dull roar of the crowd grew quieter and quieter in
her ears as she concentrated on killing this man.

Why was she here again? Did women really fight, in ancient Rome?
Ancient? What had she meant by thinking that? This was modern Rome.
Ruler of the known world. From Britain to Asia. But women? Fighting in
the Colosseum? Had that really happened? Of course it happened, it was
happening in front of her. She had some doubts though, about the
historical accuracy of her reality. She shook her head. What was
happening to her? What was she thinking?

The man came at her, hard and fast. His trident barely caught on the
chain mail of her sleeve, and that messed her aim up. Because of that
he lived. Her spear went into his underarm instead of his throat. He
danced away, roaring in pain, spewing blood into the sand. She knew
now she just needed to keep him occupied for a while, and let him
bleed out.

The end was sad, after such a good beginning. He stumbled, and he
poked him again, hard, in the bare upper thigh. He could barely move
to fight after that, and the throat stab she'd intended much earlier
finally finished him off. She raised both hands high, holding her
spear above her head, and let the roar of the crowd carry her away.
The rest of the day was just a blur, literally.

She came to that night, back in her room. She had just finished a
feast, a victory dinner. All this luxury, she thought, and there's
still a lock on my door. The door opened, at that moment, and a boy
was shoved rudely inside. Dessert has arrived, she thought.

The slave boy was young, maybe too young, she thought. She rose from
her chair slowly, languidly, like a cat. He gazed at her with fearful
eyes. Oh, honey, she thought, don't be scared of me. I don't want much
from you... just your love for an hour or two...

She held out her hand, and he hesitantly held his out. She guided him
to her bed, and seated him on the side. She sat beside him. Within a
few minutes she was holding him, feeling his heart beating like a
frightened rabbit. Surely he's still a virgin, she thought, if he's
still this scared. She looked down at his legs, and hers. His were
strong, muscular, but thin and pale. Her legs were thick and strong,
scarred here and there, tanned from her hours on the practice field,
but still attractive. She knew she was attractive. The other fighters
still yelled and hooted at her, when she went to the practice field.
She knew a lot of them would pay handsomely to trade places with this
scared little boy. But, she had no interest in them.

She lay back, and pulled him over on top of her. She whispered to him,
trying to calm him. He finally seemed to get over his fear, and she
felt him begin to respond to her. She kissed him at last, and it was
sweet. This will be fun, she thought. This one will be enjoyable.





"Some kind of Roman gladiator shit," Charity said to Darlene. Darlene
had just asked if Charity dreamed last night. Darlene laughed at her
reply.

"Swords and sandals?" she said, and Charity laughed.

"Not quite. Spears and bare feet. And giant statues." They both
giggled.

"You were a guy?" Darlene asked. Charity shook her head.

"No, I was a girl. A girl gladiator."

"Darlin'. There might be a problem, there. I don't think there were
girl gladiators, in ancient Rome."

"I don't either. And I even thought that in the dream. But, that's the
way it was."

"Well, who knows."

"Yeah."

"So, did you get to make out in it?"

"Yes, with a slave boy..."

"Did you... do it?" Darlene asked, looking around to make sure no one
else in the lunch room was listening.

"Yes..." Charity said, and giggled some more. Darlene giggled too.
Charity knew by now Darlene liked hearing this shit. "And he had
enormous... guy parts." He hadn't really, but she knew Darlene wanted
to hear details like that.

"So... after that pearl... and your cherry being popped... you think
you really did it with him?"

"Oh, Darlene, I have no idea... it did seem pretty real... I just
don't know, I don't know what's dream and what's reality, any more."

The bell rang, and they stood. "Shit, girl," said Darlene. "You are
one lucky sumbitch."





That night, she cleaned the house a little, well, actually she just
picked shit up. Promptly, at 4:30 the doorbell rang, and she ushered
Donald into the house. He was kind of giggly, as was she, and she
wondered if he knew that tonight might be... the night. She'd given a
lot of thought to the subject, and could see no reason why not to. She
was an adult, well, kind of, and she was ready to do adult things. She
was no longer a virgin, through no fault of her own, so why not enjoy
it a little? She knew the basics, from her dreams, well, she knew
quite a bit more than the basics, although she did question the
accuracy of some of the events in her dreams. If the dreams were just
simply coming out of her head, then her dreams shouldn't know any more
than she did. If they were being influenced by some outside agency,
now, that was different. She just hoped that what she thought she knew
was accurate. Like on how to give BJ's, for instance. Well, she might
find that shit out tonight.

They sat and watched TV for a while, and ended up wrestling around on
the couch like they had the other night. Don finally pulled his cock
out of his pants, and Charity grabbed it and pumped, after cautioning
him against cumming. She didn't want to waste it. Or waste him. She
had bigger plans. 

"This is our fifth date," Don announced, and Charity giggled. 

"Does this count as a date?" she asked, and he nodded. Their lips met
again. They just stayed glued together for a while, his hands on her
breasts, beneath her bra. She finally pulled away and yanked her shirt
and bra off.

"There," she said. She unzipped her pants and pulled them off, too.
She stood before him in just a pair of panties. Well, what the fuck,
she thought, and dropped them, too. She was naked. Damn, she thought,
it feels good to be naked. 

"Come on, slowpoke," she finally said, and he got the idea. He took a
little more time, and seemed nervous. 

"Yes, my parents are on a ship somewhere," she said, wondering if that
was part of his problem. He seemed a little relieved after that. Soon
he was naked to.

"Oh," said Charity, staring at his hard dick. "Are you glad to see
me?"

"Oh, hell yeah," he said, and they lay back on the couch. He held her,
and it felt good. She could feel his stiff cock poking into her groin.
That felt good, too. She reached down every now and then and gave it a
rub.

"Charity," Don whispered into her ear. "I brought some rubbers, just
in case,"

"Good," she said, and they locked lips again. He lay back further, and
she crawled on top of him. His cock was rubbing right in her pussy,
now. She rubbed against him, feeling it push into her pussy lips.
Damn, it could go right in, right now, she thought.

"Don," she said. "Don't be shocked. I'm going to do something to you
that I've only ever done in a dream." He giggled. He was getting the
idea that she left parts out, when she told her dreams. He'd suspected
stuff like this went on. He was right.

She slid down his body until his cock was in her face. Oh, she
thought, that is cool. She tentatively licked it on the cap. Oddly, it
didn't have any taste, there. She finally put the whole thing in her
mouth, and sucked it down her throat, almost. Don sighed in pleasure.
She ran it in and out, in and out, sucking hard. She could tell he was
enjoying it. She was enjoying it, too.

He held her head in his hands, and gently rubbed her. This is just too
cool, she thought, wait until I tell Darlene. I put a guy's weenier in
my mouth. I sucked a guy off. She sucked harder, feeling the cap
expand in against her tongue. It was hard, damn it was hard. She ran
her tongue down the bottom of it, feeling little ridges of skin here
and there, loving the feeling of it in her mouth. This is why Hidden
Brook liked it, she thought. Because it's fun. Fun, and cool.

Don finally made her stop, apologizing, saying that she turned him on
so much he was going to cum if she didn't stop. She pretended to pout.
"Charity..." Don said, almost shyly. She raised her eyebrows.
"Charity... dearest... can I taste you?"

Oh, hell yeah. She sat on he couch and spread her legs. He dropped to
his knees, and crawled inbetween her them. Almost immediately she felt
his tongue on her clit. Ah, she thought, bullseye. Damn, that felt
good. She had always loved the idea of getting her pussy eaten out,
and she loved the dreams were it happened. This was better than a
dream even. This is the real thing, she told herself. This is really
happening. He licked down the slit of her pussy, and licked her
asshole, as best he could. She pushed her butt up and spread her legs
further, so he could get at it better. That feels cool, she thought.
She was glad she'd showered before he came over. She knew she tasted
good, down there, she'd rubbed and sniffed herself. She knew she
smelled sexy.

The minutes raced by. She had no idea how long she let Donald eat her
pussy, but she did cum twice, at least. Good ones, she almost squished
his head with her legs. She felt happy, and basked in the afterglow of
completely fine orgasms. 

He finally crawled back up her body, stopping to kiss her tits, and
they kissed again. Damn, she thought, I do taste good. She realized
how much she liked the taste of pussy. I'd do it, she thought, if I
had a girl available. I'd damn well fucking do it. She wondered what
Darlene would say if she asked her to trade pussy licks. She giggled
at that one.

"Don, come on." she said, "let's go to my room."

The climbed the stairs, and entered her bedroom. She locked the door,
just in case, feeling foolish. Better safe than sorry, though.

Don pulled a small square package out of his pocket, and she watched
with interest as he rolled the rubber on his hard cock.

"Don, honestly. You did that pretty good. Have you put one on before?"
she asked, teasing him.

"I've put one on before, but I've never done it... with a girl." he
said.

"Have you done it with a guy, then?" she asked innocently.

He grabbed her around the waist and wrestled her down onto the bed.
"Of course not, you silly..." she thought he was going to say more,
like call her a slut, but he wasn't that brave. She giggled some more.

She wiggled around on the bed, and got comfortable. He slowly moved
over, and lay on top of her. She could feel his hard prick poking her,
in the crease of her thigh. 

"Don," she breathed, kissing him and pulling away. "Don... make love
to me..."





The next day she traded stories with Darlene. As she figured, she had
much more to tell. Donald and her were moving along at a much faster
pace than Darlene and Dick. Anyway, she related the whole process to
Darlene, amidst many giggles. Darlene was interested, but still seemed
a little unsure if she wanted to try it.

"Did you... have an orgasm?" she asked Charity.

"Hell yeah. That's the point, isn't it?"

"Yes, but it doesn't always happen, from what I understand."

"Shit. I didn't know that. I thought it kinda had to happen."

"Well, if he cums first, and his weenie goes down..."

"I guess. Yes, I suppose that could happen. But Don was very
considerate, and made sure that I came first, before he did."

"Did you look at it? Did you smell it?"

"No, he took it off and tied it in a knot. Sorry."

"So'kay. Just wondered."

"I did have it in my mouth, but that was before he came."

"You should let him cum in your mouth once. Just to see what it tastes
like."

"Yes, I'll put that on my to-do list." said Charity, and they both
giggled some more.





She flew. She put her head down, and flew like her life depended on
it. It did. She had fucked up. She had fucked up bad. She had let her
mouth get her in trouble, again. The fairymiester was looking for her,
now. She was sure she'd at least get her legs spanked with a switch,
when he caught her. Shit. On she flew, deeper into the woods. She'd
never been in this area before... or at least, it didn't look
familiar. The trees grew taller and taller, until she couldn't see the
tops of them through the lower cover. She finally lit on the ground,
and walked deeper into the woods. It was kind of spooky, she thought
to herself.

She walked out into the grove before she realized what it was. Oh,
shit, she thought, and backed up, peering around a tree. A half dozen
hooded members were on their knees before an alter, and she heard a
low mumbling. More people came out of the woods and joined them. The
chanting grew louder and louder, as more people joined them.

You need to get the fuck out of here, she told herself, but she
didn't. She wondered what was going on. That fairy curiosity, which
had almost been the death of her in the past, was strong. What was
going on here? Were they summoning someone, or something?

The grove was finally full. The chanting was loud, now. A large man,
fully robed, his face hidden, entered the grove, and stood before the
worshipers, his arms held high. She was aware of the ground shaking,
slightly, pounding, like some gigantic footsteps or something. Oh,
shit, she thought, oh shit. But she was powerless to move.

The next being that strode into the clearing was a good ten feet tall,
towering over the priest. His body was thick, and muscular. It glowed
red. His face was leering, sneering... demonic. Huge yellow eyes
peered here and there. Fangs hung from his mouth, over his lower lips.
Two gigantic horns protruded from his forehead, immense. He was naked,
and his enormous manhood jutted from his groin, half erect already. Oh
shit, thought Firefly, oh shit. This must be the Dark Lord himself. As
long as she'd been around here, the woods, she'd never seen the Dark
Lord. Few had, and lived to tell about it. She tried to turn and run,
but her feet were rooted to the ground.

The Dark One sensed her presence immediately. He gazed right at her,
his eyes burning into her, and crooked his finger at her.

"Come here, little one," he said, in a rough guttural voice. Powerless
to disobey, she walked towards him, in a daze. She felt lightheaded,
like she was about to pass out. A deep part of her mind wondered if
she'd live through this.

She walked around the back of the huge stone alter, and stood before
him. He was magnificent, she thought. And evil. Evil exuded from his
very pores. She felt his darkness, from three feet away. She stared up
at him, entranced, like a bird in front of a snake. She couldn't move
unless he told her to.

And his... cock... She was used to fairy cocks, nice little things.
This monster was massive, as big around as her neck. Christos. It must
be two feet long, she thought. Well, actually, she translated feet
into fairy measurements. You get the idea, though.

He leered down at her. Her personality was blasted from her mind, and
she stood before him, pure, simple as a new-born. She was no longer
afraid, there wasn't enough of her left to be afraid.

His huge arm swung down, and grasped her shoulder. He tossed her
easily onto the rough stone of the alter, on her belly. Her legs hung
over the edge. She drew a ragged breath, and her mind began to assert
itself again, now that she was out of the hypnotic gaze of his yellow
eyes. She had a moment to wonder what was going to happen next, before
it happened.

"Mmmm," his massive, deep voice said. "Fairy pussy. Nice."

Oh shit, she thought, tearing up. He's not going to put that thing in
me... There's no way it'll fit... I'll die, I'll literally be split in
two...

She felt something touch her, right on the outside of her pussy. Shit.
He began to push harder, harder and deeper. Her pussy expanded and
expanded, until she thought she was going to burst apart. Tears
squeezed out her eyes, and her breath came in ragged gasps. Her poor
little pussy, she thought. It had been so small and tight. It would
never be the same, now. If she lived through this.

The Dark Lord pressed deeper and deeper into her body. She felt pain
in places she didn't even know she had. She felt like she was
literally splitting in two. She'd never dreamed something that large
could fit inside her. Or go that deep. This must be what mortals feel
when they give birth, she thought. Oh shit. It just kept coming,
bigger and bigger. She wondered at what point she'd just split in two
and die.

He finally, literally hit bottom, and she screamed in pain. He laughed
softly, and pulled out, and pounded back in again. There had been a
slight pleasure, but it was mostly pain.

The next ten minutes was a nightmare beyond her imagining. There was
moments of pleasure, true, but it was mostly pain. He pounded her,
often ramming into the bottom of her vagina, causing her acute agony.
She was dizzy and felt faint. Her personality was about gone, again,
and she just existed as a blob of pain, with occasional quick arrows
of pleasure shooting through her.

When the Dark Lord ejaculated, she was almost pistoned off his massive
cock. He finally staggered back a step or two, moaning in pleasure,
and she felt his cock slide out of her tortured cunt. A few last
squirts of satanic sperm sprayed over her body, burning wherever it
touched her. He finally took a step forward and grabbed her, and
yanked her up from the alter.

"Run along, little one. I usually kill what I fuck, but what's the
point, you don't have a soul. Run along."

She ran. She ran like her life depended on it, although... what he
said... she guessed it didn't. She finally slowed to a walk, and made
her way through the woods, in the direction she hoped her village was
in.

What the fuck had that been all about, she thought. Why would the Dark
Lord want to fuck a fairy? Mortals had way more magic, although they
didn't know it. Fairies were not much different than angels, simple
beings, with neither souls or consciences. She finally took a leaping
step into the air, and flew. She was ready to be home, back in her
hollow tree. And damn. Damn, her cunt hurt. She wondered if it would
ever be the same again.





Charity awoke, alone in the house. Her heart was pounding. She was
scared. She wished her parents were home. Goddam, she thought. Goddam.
I just got fucked by the devil. Shit. She slowly sat up, feeling
twinges of pain from between her legs. Oh, shit, she thought, making
her way to the bathroom. Oh, shit.

She was shocked by the blood. Blood streaked down her legs, from her
vagina. She was crying again, and the tears made it hard to see. She
tentatively pressed a finger into herself, almost relieved that her
whole hand didn't just fall into it. She still felt tight, at least,
as tight as she had the other night. Shit, though. His dick had been
six inches in diameter, at least. Shit, she thought. How did it ever
fit up there.

She finally got a washrag and washed the blood from her legs and
pussy. She didn't feel that bad by then, although her heart still
pounded in her chest. She looked in the mirror at herself, halfway
expecting a 666 or upside-down star on her forehead. The devil fucked
me, she thought, for the hundredth time, the fucking devil fucked me.
Shit. What, if anything, does that mean? Does that even mean he
exists? Is this just sympathy... sympathy pains, or something, when a
dream affects me in the real world, like this? What the fuck is going
on. What the fucking fuck is going on?

She finally went back to bed, and lay there, bemused. You'd think I'd
actually be more upset than this, she thought. She wondered if she was
still in shock. But, before she knew it, it was morning.





"I don't know if I can tell you," Charity said, when Darlene asked
about her dream last night. They were walking to school. Charity's
parents were due home today, and she was glad of it. The house seemed
so dark and empty without them. Almost threatening.

"Tell me what you can."

"I was a fairy. I met the devil in a grove in some woods, and he
fucked me. He was... enormous. I even bled, if you can believe it."

"Holy shit!" said Darlene, impressed.

"Unholy shit," said Charity. 

"You mean you woke up bloody? Down there?"

"Yup."

"The devil actually fucked you?" said Darlene.

"Darlene, I have no idea. I don't think I'd be standing here, if the
devil actually fucked me. I think that one was just a dream. And maybe
my period is starting way early."

"Well, you thought the pearl one was just a dream, too," said Darlene.
"Have you bled any more, since then?"

"No, but... Darlene... don't make this difficult..."

"Sorry. But you gotta admit, that pearl shit is pretty damn hard to
explain. As is bleeding."

"Yeah, I know. Shit." They were finally at school, and went their
separate ways. The day passed, uneventful, and Charity arrived home
that night to find her parents home and unpacked. She hugged them
both, getting funny looks from them.

"Hey," she said defensively, "I missed you guys." They both laughed.





Charity was almost afraid to go to sleep that night. After that last
one, lord. The dreams seemed to be getting more and more intense. She
wondered where there was to go from here. Hours after midnight she
finally sighed and lay her head down, and surrendered.

She awoke that morning, refreshed and invigorated. She remembered
splintered moments from dreams, but nothing concrete. Good, she
thought. About time.

Her mom fixed her breakfast, and she went off to school. She got the
pleasure of disappointing Darlene when she asked about her dream, and
the day played out.





Charity didn't tell Donald about the devil one. It felt too private to
her, or something. They walked around the park, and finally sat on a
bench. He put his arm around her, and she snuggled up underneath it.

"All I think about is you, darling," he said, nuzzling her ear with
his mouth. She giggled.

"Me too."

"All you think about is you?"

"No... you know what I mean..."

"I wish we could have some more... private time..."

"Yeah, me too," she said.

"Think we could rent a motel room?" he asked.

"Naw... gotta be twenty-one to do that," she said. "And have a credit
card."

"Shit," he said. "What do they expect us to do?"

"Donald. They expect us not to fuck," Charity laughed at him. He shook
his head.

"Well," he finally said, "There's always my treehouse."





Finally, two days later, there came an evening when both his parents
were out of the house. Don tried to get her interested in just doing
it in his room, but she felt like that was tempting fate just a little
too much. It wouldn't be as nearly as obvious if they were in the tree
house.

The tree house was rickety, and kind of wobbly. But at least it was
fairly private, unless somebody climbed the ladder. We'll hope, she
thought.

They killed twenty minutes kissing and necking, until Don finally
rolled a rubber and his cock with practiced ease. Charity giggled,
thinking of him sitting alone in his bedroom and practicing, for the
time when it became necessary. 

Charity wished she were on birth control, but she was too nervous to
talk to her mother about it. She remembered something from school
about getting on it without your parents knowing. Have to ask somebody
about that, she thought.

There was an old couch cushion in the treehouse. Don finally lay down
against it, and she crawled on top of him, rubbing her pussy with his
hard cock. This was going to be fun, she thought. It was. He pressed
deeper and deeper into her, and she felt full of him. Not as full as
when she'd fucked the devil, but reasonably full. It felt good. She
sighed and moaned, and sank onto his cock.

Ten minutes later she came, good and hard. He still pumped away, and
she hoped for a second one, like she had when that pirate captain
licked her. Somehow they rolled over, and now Don was on top of her,
pumping away. She relaxed, and let her body carry her away. Again.





"Yes, Darlene, we fucked in his tree house," Charity clarified, and
Darlene giggled.

"Damn, girl, you gettin' good at this."

"Yeah... I just don't wanna get caught, though..."

"Caught, or pregnant..."

"Darlene... I'm worried about something..."

"Yes?"

"I can't control what happens in my dreams. And we see that my dreams
seem to occasionally be true, in the real world, as well as the dream
world... the pearl, you know... and the blood..." The pearl still sat
in her jewelry box, at home. She checked every day to make sure it was
still there. She now regarded it as her college fund.

"Yes..." 

"Darlene. What if I get pregnant, in a dream? Will I still be pregnant
when I wake up?"

"Oh, shit. Oh holy fucking shit. You need to get on birth control,
girl. Right now. Today."

"I can't! My parents would freak, because that would mean I'm having
or planning on having sex!"

"Shit, girl. We need to get you to a clinic and see if they'll give
you pills without telling your parents. I've heard they'll do that.
Shit fire."

"Shit, I know. This sucks."

"I'm sorry, girl. Hang on, I'll google it."





The next day after school they walked downtown, to the Ophelia Farmer
Medical Building. After a perfunctory exam, a doctor talked to Charity
while Darlene waited in the waiting room. She finally emerged with a
sore arm, and her head full of medical crap.

"Darlene," she said, on the way home. "You need to get that shot,
too."

"I dunno..." said Darlene. "I'm not sure if Dick and I are gonna do
it. I'm not sure if he's the one."

"Well, you should get it, just so you're ready, just in case."

"I suppose you're right," Darlene mused. "I just hope that fuckin'
shot works in your dreams."

"It's all I can do, Darlene. It's an attempt to meet the problem
head-on, at least."

"Yeah. Yeah."





The doctor wheeled, his expression maniacal. Shit, she thought, he
looks like just Hitler in that other dream? Dream? What did that mean?
Dream? This was as real as shit. Crumbling stone walls, machines
everywhere, arcs of electricity, the works. This was truly a mad
scientist laboratory, and there, in front of her, was the mad
scientist. She tried to think who he reminded her of, really, other
than Hitler. No one rose to mind. Shit. That she was having a doctor
dream didn't surprise her, after all she'd just seen a doctor. What?
What did that mean? A dream? What the hell was going on?

She was chained, by manacles, to a large wooden board, tilted up
slightly. A machine pumped away beneath her, and pushed into her body.
She felt the almost weary tiredness in her legs that meant she had
already cum at least once. The machine plunged deep into her body, and
pulled out almost all the way. When she stopped and thought about it,
it felt almost better than the real thing. And it just went on and on.
She wondered if you could die of exhaustion from cumming too much. It
looked like she would find out. The scientist cackled again, tickling
her nipples with a feather. Shit. That wasn't too high on her list of
excitements, but she pretended and squirmed, just so he wouldn't go on
to something worse. She felt the familiar tightness in her upper
thighs again, and knew that she was going to cum, again.





"Naw, it was some stupid laboratory shit. Mad scientists and all
that."

They were walking home from school. It was Friday evening. They'd made
tentative plans to go to the movies with the boys. They were just
going to Charity's house and wait for a phone call, then all four walk
to the movies.

They sat around in Charity's room, idly talking and watching TV.
Finally her phone, rang and it was Don. They boys were on their way to
the movies, so they piled down the stairs and took off for downtown.
All went well, well, actually the movie was boring, and they finally
walked around downtown until way past dark. The weather was cool, but
nice.

Charity wished there was somewhere they could go, and make out. She'd
planned on some of that in the movie theater, but there were too many
people behind them. It sucks, she thought, that I just can't bring him
home. Life is going to be way cool when I finally get to move out.





There was nothing unusual about that night. She puttered around, told
her parents good night, and went upstairs and slid into bed. She spent
a few moments going over the events of the day, and soon enough sleep
took her. She woke up from a nap, the steady pounding of the surf in
her ears. She stretched, lazily, and yawned. She looked down, and was
slightly surprised. She was just wearing bikini bottoms, no top. Her
breasts were succulent, full and dark brown, with huge puffy nipples.
Well why not, she thought. She gazed to her side, at the man laying
next to her.

Don was older than she remembered, but it didn't surprise her any. He
was muscular, hard looking, and fit and tan. Deep deep tan. He lay on
a towel beside her, a straw hat half over his face. Palm trees led
along the shoreline, marching into infinity in both directions.

"Don," she said. "What we got to eat, back at the hut?"

"Lot's of shit," he replied. "The fridge is still pretty full. You
ready?"

"In a few," she said. He nodded. 

She looked out over the calm ocean. Maybe after lunch they'd surf, or
even fish. That would be fun. Life here was idyllic, and spontaneous.
She loved it here. She had no idea how much longer they'd stay. As
long as they wanted to. That was the beauty of dreams.

Dreams? This is a dream? she thought. So what if it was. She could
live like this. She cupped a handful of sand and brought it close to
her eyes. She could see individual grains of sand. Could things be
this detailed, if it were a dream? 

She rolled over on top of Don. He murmured, and reached up to squeeze
her butt. She untied the knot to her bikini bottom, and stripped it
off.

"Time to pay the piper!" she said, wrestling with the snap of his
pants. He laughed and put the hat on his head, exposing his face.
Damn, she thought, he looks good, this sun has done him good. She knew
there was no worries about skin cancer and such silly shit in dreams.
Good thing, that.

He lifted his butt and slid his trunks down his legs. He was already
hard, and she felt him poking her in the crease of her leg.

"Well, get it in, big boy," she said, reaching down to help it a bit.
His cock felt nice and fat in her hand. She didn't remember it being
that big, but what the hell. This was turning out nicely.

She gasped for breath as his fatness slid into her. Jeezus, she
thought. Damn, she felt as full as when the devil had fucked her. This
was fun.

They established a rhythm, and she began to ride him like a rodeo
horse. He reached up and grabbed her tits, squeezing and kneading
them. How could this not be real, she thought, feeling his legs on her
butt when she dropped down, and feeling his prick slide inside her
cunt. Damn, that feels good. She forgot that shit, and just let him
carry her away. 

 



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