King: Cocksure

Chapter IX

Dez and the Girls

This novel include graphic sex scenes, some involving minors, rape and forced sex. It is purely a fantasy and is not depicting real people or events. It is intended as a satire and is meant to be both funny and stimulating. The stories have a political slant as you will see. I hope you enjoy them. New chapters will be published as they are finished.

(Mffffffffff)

On what was supposed to be my last full night in Minnesota, the young girls at Dez’s house planned a special surprise for me when I returned to the guest house after the backyard blow job session.

Frankly by the time I returned to the guest house that night, I was dead tired and had forgotten about the special surprise, figuring maybe that the girls were worn out by the time I got there, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The girls were all lined up on their haunches with their butts up in the air pointed right at me. The scene had a déjà vu feel to it.

“Hello, Mr. Cocksure, “ Allie said in a voice that could melt butter, “We understand you like to stick your thingy in little girls’ butts.”

Her asshole was wet, slimy and almost pulsating sex. Breana was next to her. She was poking a large purple dildo so deep in her crapper, it seemed to overwhelmed her tight teen ass.

By far, Baby’s ass was the loveliest. Rosy pink, firm and not even a hint of darkness around her virginal looking pucker.

“My butthole is waiting for you, too,” Baby said.

“What about my bung, Mr. Cocksure?” Marie cooed. “Don’t you love how it glistens and calls to you. It craves your dick.”

“Wait a second, wait a second,” I said. “I’ve done this scene before, only not with you girls.”

“Yes, in Bung Hole Semen Slurpers II,” Terry said. “I didn’t think you’d remember because it was so early in your career.”

“Yes, the girls put a blindfold on you and you had to guess whose butt your dick was in,” they said.

“Yeh, well didn’t we try something like that the other night?” I said.

“But we wanted to re-enact the part where the girls drink your cum out of other girls’ butts.”

“I think its kind of gross,” Peyton said, “But Allie said you’d like it so you could revisit your youth and would probably make you come more.”

“Yes, the girls who get cummed in let it drip out of their butts and into a cup,” Brayden said. “Then the other girls drink it and pass the cum around between them. Wouldn’t you like to see us do that?

“The thought of these young girls re-enacting a part I’d done years earlier and seeing them pass my cum around between them did have a certain appeal.

“Okay, you girls are the experts, how do I start?”

“First we put a blindfold on you and you stick your tongue deep in all our butts,” Marie said.

“But before then, we’ve re-positioned ourselves and you have to guess who is who by taste alone.” said Peyton

“Yes, this time no using your dick. You have to tell who you are tongue fucking up the butt,” Baby said.

“Then when you are finished with that, you grab the girl on the far right end and start poking her hard in the butt,” Allie said, “after grabbing her arms and pulling them way back behind her so her butt gets pushed way up in the air and her face gets pushed way deep in the carpet.”

“You fuck all seven of us in the tush like that hard…I mean really hard and then you cum in one of our butts,” Baby said. “And that girl squeezes your cum out so the other girls can drink it.”

“This is one of my favorite of your movies, Brad.” Terry added. “So even though it’s not in the movie I may squirt because…well, I can’t help myself.”

“No one would like any less of you, Terry,” I said. “Okay, let’s begin.”

With my blindfold on, it was difficult telling which girl was which. I don’t have the same sensitivity in my tongue that I do in my cock. But I gave every sweet tasting ass the attention it deserved, bathing it deep in the hole with frothy saliva and savoring every fresh young female scent released.

I guessed correctly on two of the seven asses I tasted, but when it was time to cum, I knew already who would receive my milkshake cocktail.

“Baby,” I panted. “I am beginning to think your high fiber diet may be doing some good. Your bung has loosened up just a bit.”

My cock pumped what seemed like gallons of cum into her tiny, quivering pink rosebud while she screamed like a banshee. She was incapable of moving when she stopped rocking back and forth. She just lay sighing with her hair draped on the floor covering her face. Cum leaked voluminously out her ass and Allie caught it in a cup and started to drink. She passed the cup to other girls and they started to drink as well. Soon they were passing my cum back and forth between them as if it were some great prize to be protected within the warm, wet chambers of their mouths.

As I watched this scene, I had the strange sensation I was watching some ancient historic secret rite, with origins buried deep in the folds of history and in my own blood. This feeling of déjà vu wasn’t just related to a scene I’d performed a few years ago before these girls were born. This was an almost earth-quaking experience that I’d done all of this before in another time and place, perhaps another more primitive life. I had to shake myself back to reality.

As I write this, Terry is sitting bare butted on my lap running her wet, rubbery pussy lips on my cock. She wanted me to tell you that yes, she did squirt that night.

After that night, however, I decided to extend my stay in Minnesota by several days. I really shouldn’t have done so, but my emotions were raw and elemental and I wanted to explore with these young maidens their sexuality and my own place in history and society. Every night at the guest house, the girls re-enacted a scene from another of my movies and videos. From Pussy Pizza Pie, we redid the scene where I-- as a pizza delivery guy—stumble into the midst of a teen girls slumber party. The scene in the movie was, I thought, always rather lame. I mean if pizza delivery guys get sex in real life as often as they do in porn, every man would be begging to get those jobs. But as re-enacted by the girls, it was the first scene where they really licked a man’s ass—my own—and enjoyed it. They were quite good at it, in fact.

From Five-Year Missionary Position, the girls dredged up a Star Trek rip off I done when I was nearly just a teen myself. The girls played sexual aliens who evolved into pussies and then whole girls from little balls of fur called quibbles. They were sci fi fans and loved playing with the little balls of fur they’d made from an old coat Dez was about to give to Goodwill. It was quite wonderful to see these little pixies stretch their bodies in a slow sensual dance from a completely enfolded position to arch their backs up in the air to accept my penis. I don’t think the women in the original scene did it quite so well. Once again, I felt I was witnessing something ancient and profound, not as strongly as the first time, but just as mysteriously puzzling.

From Palace of Pleasure IV, the girls played young maidens in my harem and I was the Sultan of Swat, quite literally. I got to smack their little bottoms with my hands and explore every delectable crevice and cranny. I was surprised that the girls seemed to be enjoying their rumps getting turned a bright crimson. Here again, there seemed to be some out-of-time experience they reacted to and the role I played with them.

I left Minnesota in a somber mood, somewhat buoyed by the thought that Dez and the girls had begged to come out to visit me in California before school re-started in the fall.

“I want to go to DisneyLand and ride Magic Mountain,” Terry said.

“I think we have been riding Magic Mountain,” Baby added.

But first things first. Before I could head home to visit with the girls after my meeting with Exeter, Dez, Creech, Devin, Claire, Piglet and I went to Westbrook’s funeral. It was a sad affair. He had a large family and group of friends who came in from all over the country. The church was full and the procession to the cemetery stretched for miles.

“Thanks for coming, Brad,” his sister, Donna, told me. “He always spoke highly about you despite the work you do. I’m glad you could make it.”

“We’re honored to be here,” I said. “Wes was a terrific guy. Have you learned anything more about the accident…about how it happened?

“It was kind of strange, and that’s what I want to get to the bottom of,” Donna said. “Wes either fell asleep while driving or passed out rounding a corner, according to the police. He must have been driving pretty fast because they found the car a good ways out from a cliff at the bottom of a ravine. Wes drove that route nearly every day. I can’t totally believe he just suddenly one day forgot how dangerous that mountain road was and ended up crashing.”

I told her about my suspicions about Buchner and that Westbrook was bringing us news he’d uncovered about Loyola Marin.

“Well that’s interesting,” she said. “Some strange things were found in Wes’s car.”

Donna, in addition to being strikingly lovely and smart, was a CIA-trained operative who now worked for domestic security, spying on and uncovering terrorist cells. I’d watched her demolish a five-man combat team once and she was no one to get on your case if you were a criminal or had terrorist ties. Indeed, the whole Westbrook family was involved in law enforcement and security protection. I was confident she would track down who murdered her brother if murder, indeed, it was.

“Can you tell me what you found?” I asked.

“Well, I’m not at liberty to say just yet,” she said. “Let me talk to my bosses to see if we can release it and if so, I will send it over to you.”

I told her thanks and headed back to the office. I had a couple or more tasks to perform before I could call it a day.

All week the Grisham twins had been pestering me to come down to the workshop to examine their latest technological wonder. The girls are brilliant and operate all of our associate web sites with a staff of perhaps 200 working with them, mostly women. This differs from most male-dominated tech shops but we get an extra benefit. Dirty female minds come up with the most creative innovations and know what pleases men better than men do.

Kerry and Kristy are twins but you wouldn’t know it to look at them. Both have similarly curly brunette hair but there the similarities end. Kerry is drop dead gorgeous, with full pouty lips and a slim almost boyish body. Kristy is pretty but not in the same way. She is a female body builder who competes in body beautiful matches throughout SoCal when time permits. She once bragged to me she could twist my dick off with her overly developed vaginal muscles. I’d never been tempted to take up her bet but now she was showing me a device connected to a computer that potentially threatened the same type of destruction.

“We call it the Hole Internet,” Kerry said. “You plug the wireless sensor into the USB port on a computer and then place the fake pussy or mouth lips over your cock and when you go to an interactive sex web site, it actually responds to the oral or vaginal stimulations of the woman on the screen.”

“It also responds to your own body movements and even senses when you are about to cum,” Kristy said. “It is the closest thing to interactive sex without touching or actual fluid exchange possible now.”

“Let me get this straight,” I said. “The woman can be in China on the other side of the world and you can have all the sensations of having sex with her.”

“That’s right and for all practical purposes, you couldn’t tell the difference,” Kristy said.

“Wow, and I thought my dick was long,”

“Yes, and that’s why we’re not using you as a test subject, Brad,” Kerry said. “This is made for average-size males. We’ll have larger-size models later. But I’ve asked Oscar here to demonstrate our prototype.”

Oscar was a good-looking kid in a white lab coat wearing glasses and carrying a clip board. His lab coat pocket was filled with pens and he had this shy, almost frightened rabbit look at the moment .

“Come on, Oscar, we’ve seen penises before,” Kerry said. “Drop trow.”

I wondered what it must be like for a young man with Oscar’s looks to be working amid so many attractive, horny women in an environment where sex was literally in the air and water. I wondered how much we were paying him and whether I needed to send him to classes on recognizing signs of sexual harassment.

Kerry dropped matter-of-factly to her knees and began to fellate him with long slow, sloppy strokes. Oscar fidgeted and sweated nervously, but still held deliberately to his clip board. He was determined to be an objective scientist to the bitter end.

When satisfied that Oscar ‘s oscar had reached sufficient size, Kristy helped Kerry place a small black cone over it.

“Does Kerry have to come over to ever user’s home and blow them to get this thing started?” I asked.

“Look, who graduated from MIT here?” Kerry said sarcastically. “We’re not stupid. I was just giving Oscar here a boost to get him started because he’s so nervous.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to insult your engineering or oral prowess.”

“Kerry’s spent a lot of time on this studying men’s reactions to oral, vaginal, even anal stimuli,” Kristy said. “She’s overly sensitive and eager to get this thing into production. “

On the screen, one of the female research scientists located across the room had begun to slurp a penis-shaped fleshy object. The reaction on Oscar was electric. His body suddenly came to attention, his clipboard clattered to the floor and his hair stood on end.

“Maybe the stimuli is set a little too high for Oscar,” I suggested.

Kristy dialed down a knob on a keyboard and his body slumped a bit but he was still panting.

“The amount of stimuli the user receives is controllable by the user and Penny over there can sense the reactions in Oscar’s body and adjust her sucking and licking accordingly,” Kristy said. “Both devices are wireless so the user doesn’t have to sit up right next to the computer. They can be lying in bed across the room and watching the screen.”

“We’ve tried to make everything as natural as possible,” Kerry said. “Notice that unlike a lot of devices on the market, we didn’t surround the cone on Oscar with a fake pussy or butt. Here the visual stimuli is on the screen and the sensations created by the device can more closely mimic real sex through electronic stimulation.”

“Penny over there can use the phallus on herself , inside her vagina, and sense Oscar’s hip thrusts and other penile movements to satisfy herself if she wanted,” Kristy said.

“So a man and wife separated by business could still have sex even though separated by miles?” I said.

“Yes, or a man or woman in a loveless and sexless marriage can have sex with others without actually cheating,” Kerry said.

“Well, I’m not sure most couple would see it as not cheating,” I said.

“Why not?” Kristy said. “There’s no exchange of fluid, no chance of disease, no actual sex. Is masturbation cheating? One day, of course, this will all be done through stimulating senses in the brain, but we’re a couple of years away from that now.”

“Somehow I’m still guessing we’ll not get the endorsement of the Catholic Church or the Good House Keeping Seal of Approval,” I said.

“Well, the Catholics will be upset that no kids can result from this kind of sex,” Kerry responded. “Good Housekeeping? Well, maybe if we make the cone a decorator item. But Good HoseKeeping will name us Women of the Year.”

During our ruminations, we’d ignored Oscar and Penny.

“Ohhhh, my shit, fuck Christ,” he suddenly exploded. “Take this you cock-sucking whore bitch.”

Oscar suddenly grabbed his cone and started jerking and running around the room like a crazy man. Think early Steve Martin on a manic tear.

Penny looked up from her phallic ministrations; her face contorted in an odd mix of anger and hurt feelings.

“Oscar Brunwich,” she shouted from across the room. “I work with you every day in this office and you have the nerve to call me a cocksucking whore bitch. I’ll never speak to you again.”

Kerry and Kristy looked at me with puzzled faces.

“I think we may have discovered one minor flaw in your marketing plan,” I said. “Put a warning label on this puppy.”

I passed Gloria later as I walked into my office. She had a sly smile and a wink for me and was humming a pleasant little ditty.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Creech said when Gloria was out of earshot. “She is so much more pleasant to be around. Was it tough for you?”

”My only problem with Gloria is that she’s a full-time director,” I said. “I like her and she’s attractive, but damn, she wants to direct the entire production like it is Lawrence of Arabia. Nibble on my left nipple for five minutes. Lick my bellybutton for one minute, then mosey on down to the pussy and attack. I’m surprised she doesn’t use a bullhorn.”

“She represents the new woman,” Creech said. “Demanding as hell and won’t take no for an answer.”

“Yes, but I got her to promise that she won’t blab about the video she saw this morning.”

“That’s great but I wish we could be sure about Loyola,” Creech said.

“How was she when she left?”

“Subdued,” Creech said. “Like she had the weight of the world on her mind.”

“Well, she knows the Republican Party eventually will discover our trick, and they’ll blame her,” I said. “And she’s knows the group Buchner represents is sniffing at our heels and hers. I’m not sure I’d like to be in her position right now.”

“I think we made some very powerful enemies today,” Creech sighed.

“I think they already were our enemies,” I said. “Today, we just let them know we can fight back.”

Dez showed up at the door.

“Are you ready, Mr. Cocksure, to head home and face your fans.”

“Yes, did they spend the whole day swimming?”

“No, they told me they discovered something interesting down in the basement.”

“Oh Christ, Dez, do you know what kind of trouble they can get into down there?” I said.

“No, but I am sure it’s the kind of trouble you and they will heartily enjoy all weekend,” Dez said, slipping her arm in mine. “Goodnight, Creech.”

“I’ll be here another hour, boss, anything you want done?

“Well, if that packet from Donna Westbrook arrives, have it sent to the house.”

“Okay, but don’t expect me this weekend,” she yelled after me. “I can’t take two consecutive weekends of sitting around waiting while you screw a bunch of little chicklets.”

“Creech, it’s my job,” I yelled back.

Walking arm in arm down the hall, Dez said:

“Why don’t you take that lovely young women and fuck the living shit out of her? You know she has a crush on you and is just waiting to be invited?”

I suddenly felt guilty.

“I know, Dez,” I said. “I love Creech with all my heart, too much to disrespect her or use her. It could ruin the only pure, unsullied relationship I have. Sex I can get anywhere. What Creech and I have…that’s gold and I can’t risk losing it.”

“Well, you ought to at least ask her to see if she feels the same way,” she counseled. “I’m sure you’ll find she could handle it. She’s just puzzled why you never have put the moves on her.”

“Because I am afraid of where those moves might take us,” I said.

When I built my house several years ago, I insisted on a large, open basement for “recreational” activities. It has a bowling alley, a basketball court, a media center, a gym, pool table and many of the amenities you’d find in many Southern California homes. It also has a dungeon.

And there, not surprisingly, was where Dez and I found the girls, when we returned home. Three of the girls were naked and handcuffed to the walls.

“Remember this from, Tails of the Creept XX,” Terry said.

“Terry Dendrige, there is already water or something all over the floor,” Dez said. “Don’t tell me you…”

Terry just grinned sheepishly, shook her manacles and stuck out her butt.

“We’re waiting for Brad to torture us and stick all sort of implements up our pussies and butts,” she said.

“My God, that girl is going to have to start carrying a mop with her full time,” Dez said.

Later, Dez excused herself to return up stairs while the girls and I played. A few minutes later the heavy wooden door to the dungeon flew open and Dez was shoved unceremoniously into the room. I had my tongue up Baby’s ass at the moment and was taken completely by surprise.

Elizabeth Martin stepped into the room followed by a wiry young man who held a gun to her head.

“Is this the bastard that fucked you in your ass and humiliated you?” the man said.

“Yes, he’s the one,” Elizabeth screamed.

“Who the fuck are you?” I said, standing to my full height. I was naked but I towered over and seemed to intimidate him.

He pointed the gun at me and told me his name was Curtis Martin, Liz’s husband, and he wanted me to re-enact what I’d done to his wife. He grabbed her by her hair and shoved her to the ground so she was on all fours. He yanked her skirt up over her head and insisted that I stick my erect member up Elizabeth’s ass. She wore no panties.

“”Look, Liz was completely innocent in this,” I said. “Leave her out of this. She doesn’t…”

“Shut up, porno man,” Curtis said. “She told me what you did. You defiled her. Stuck your wanker in her sin hole and shoved her head in a toilet bowl.”

“Curtis, he did more than that,” Elizabeth said. “He fucked me so hard I saw the face of God. Make him do it again or kill the mother fucker.”

“You heard her,” Curtis said. “You defiled her in the eyes of God and now show me what you did so I can blow out your brains while you do it.”

“Curtis, this is crazy,” I said.

“Do it,” Curtis said, waving his gun in my direction

I positioned myself behind Liz and stuffed my sausage in her tight bung. Danger and sex always have gone together in my mind. You might remember a scene I did a few years ago with a team of naked female sky divers. Keeping a good woodie was no problem.

“Look Curtis, he’s fucking me in my ass,” Liz screamed. “Make him do it harder and harder.”

She was pushing hard back against me. I was already excited by my games with Dez’s girls and it did not take long to build to a climax. I started to yell loudly.

“You bastard,” Curtis screamed.

The gun went off behind me just as I came. So this is what heaven is like, I thought awaiting the bullet I was sure would be passing through my brain.

“You know,” Dez said later in the upstairs study. “Elizabeth Lawrence planned all of this to get rid of her husband and re-enact the thrill of her life.”

“So what are you telling me I don’t know?” I said. I was sitting on a sofa in a robe. The girls had all gone to bed and Dez was sitting crossed legged in a chair across from me. The police had left only minutes earlier.

“I’m saying that if they can prove it,” she said. “The police say they may charge her with second degree murder.”

“They will never make that charge good,” I said. “Apparently, he’s been beating her for years.”

“I’m just saying that she’s a conniving little bitch and I sure am sorry I let them in the house,” Dez said.

“And why again did you do that?” I said.

She explained that there was a knock at the door and she went to answer it. She found a package sent by Westbrook’s sister lying on the porch, but when she went out to get it, Curtis Martin had pushed his way inside along with his wife. They he forced Dez to lead them all downstairs to the dungeon, promising he would spare her and the girls if she complied.

“No harm done,” I said, “Although it will take awhile to get Curtis’ brains cleaned up off the floor of the dungeon. I never thought he’d shoot himself.”

“Evidently, Elizabeth did,” Dez said. “She knew how to push his buttons. Anyway, this night has been too traumatic. I’m going to bed. I left the package Donna sent you there on the desk. “

“You and the girls, okay?” I asked.

“We’ll be fine,” she said as she got up to leave. “This is one vacation we’re not likely to forget.

After Dez left, I was still too wired to go to bed, so I studied the material Donna Westbrook had sent over. What I read convinced me I had a call to make.

“Mom, “ I said when I heard her familiar voice. “How are you and Tisha?”

“We’re fine, baby,” she said. “But what about you? “We’ve been up for awhile. But what is it , about 4 a.m. there?”

“Close,” I said. “But we had some excitement here you may be hearing about in the New York newspapers.”

“What happened?” she said.

“Before I tell you that, I have to ask you about great¸ great grandpa Mortuse,”

“It’s been a long time, son,” she said. “I knew this day was coming. I was waiting for you to ask. So it has begun, has it?”